#weekdays prediction

[deus-ex-mona]

omg are we finally gonna get h10w announcement 6 tomorrow??? (delusional)

[finalproblem]

Almost time for today's Sherlockiversary Party watchalong!

We’re watching A Study in Pink on Tuesday, July 25 at 9:00 pm UK time / 4:00 pm US Eastern time (convert to your date & time).

Be sure to arrive early in The Giant Chat of Sumatra Discord's #giantchat and have your copy of the episode ready to go.

When this countdown hits 0:00, we’ll all press play and watch the episode exactly 13 years after it was originally aired! (If you arrive late, the counter will be going up instead of down. Just fast-forward your episode to match it.)

For more info on upcoming Sherlockiversary Party Series 1 watchalongs, go here.

[girltakovic]

good afternoon himejoshi nation. i don't want to be at work right now

[mybreadsmybutters]

they should invent a not doing my assignments that doesnt completely fuck up my gpa

[burningembers91]

On Display - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to Freak of Nature

Synopsis: When you break your routine, the Salesman is forced to break his.

A/N: I'm still not sure how dark I want this to be. I mean, he's obviously certifiably insane, but I also want him to retain some likeability.

Warnings: 18+ only, The Salesman is a stalker, the MC has been crying.

Something was off. He sensed it the moment he sat down and spied the empty chair that was usually occupied by your perfect frame. You were never late, and today it was 4:08pm and you were nowhere to be seen. The muscles in his jaw tightened, his molars grinding together as his temples twitched. He didn’t like it when things didn’t go as expected. It was one of the reasons he liked you so much; you were predictable. He knew exactly where you’d be at all times, but today you’d thrown him off his schedule.

You always finished work at 3:30pm sharp. You took 15 minutes to have a catch up with your colleagues, 5 minutes to freshen up in the staff bathroom and then 10 minutes to walk from the school to the coffee house. He’d seen you through the staffroom window, had seen you smile as you spoke to your colleagues. Cursing himself, he adjusted his position on the park bench, smoothing down his grey blazer as he tried to abate his rising anger. He’d had such high hopes for you. You’d done everything exactly the way he'd wanted until today. Of course, you had no idea what it was that he wanted because you had no idea he existed, but that was the beauty of it. He could test you out from afar before deciding whether to approach you. You were so nearly perfect, but today you’d let him down.

He took another look at his watch: 4:11pm. He was a patient man, but even he had his limits. He knew you didn’t have any other plans today. The handy little tracker he’d implanted in your phone one day at the coffee house when you’d been in the bathroom gave him full access to your phone. Your diary was clear, as it always was on a weekday. So where were you? He checked again, staring at your blank calendar as seething rage consumed him. Why, why did you have to break your routine?

His hands began to shake, and he closed his eyes, taking deeps breaths as he counted to ten. Therapy hadn’t been a complete waste of time; he’d learned a few coping mechanisms to help when he felt himself losing control. There had to be an explanation for why you weren’t here. Something must have changed.

Reaching 10, he opened his eyes. And there you were. Your eyes were red, your makeup smudged with tears. You’d been crying. He’d never cried before, could never understand why people did. Nothing in life was worth crying over as far as he was concerned. But something had obviously upset you. Was it your boss? He knew from your work emails that he’d been giving you a hard time. Maybe he needed to pay the man a little visit…

He watched through the window as you dumped your belongings in your usual seat, haphazardly wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands, which only smudged your mascara more. You looked beautiful like this; so vulnerable and soft. He wondered what you sounded like when you cried, whether your sobs were soft and gentle, or whether your body wracked with the tears you shed. He hoped you weren’t an ugly crier; it would be such a shame if you were. He needed to get to the bottom of this, needed to find out who had done this to you.

Picking up his briefcase, he marched into the coffee house. He needed to be careful about how he approached you; the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off. Not after he’d worked so hard to learn everything about you. You were the next in line to order, and he slotted himself behind you with a quiet ease. This was the first time he’d been this close to you, so close he could touch you. The familiar scent of your perfume wrapped him in a comforting blanket. Of course, he’d tracked down the scent and bought himself a bottle, spraying it whenever he couldn’t be near you. You were shorter than him, as he’d expected, but perfect in absolutely every way. He chastised himself for the anger he’d felt for you earlier. Someone else had made you late, had made you cry, and whoever it was would pay.

“One latte please,” you said to the barista, your voice hoarse with tears. He clenched his fist at the sound of your voice, the usual melodic tones now scratchy and gruff. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all. “Please.” He stepped forward without thinking, his default smile plastered to his face. “Let me pay.” You looked up at him, your red rimmed eyes filled with confusion. He watched you take in his appearance, watched the tip of your tongue dart out to wet your lips. He fought to control himself as he watched you, wondering how it would feel to for him to do it, to run his tongue over your lips before biting down until you moaned at him to stop.

He coughed, ridding the overly erotic image from his mind. He’d pictured you in a thousand positions, in a thousand different scenarios, but somehow the simple act of you licking your lips had put him into overdrive. He was struggling to concentrate, losing control of himself. He didn’t like to lose control.

“Thank you,” you finally said, your perfect eyes meeting his. “That’s very kind.” He smiled at you, brushing past you to pay for your coffee, adding his own order. The smell of your perfume was overwhelming, memories of long nights spent inhaling the scent he’d sprayed on his pillows as he pleasured himself to thoughts of you.

What was happening to him? He could feel his stomach dropping, feel a wave of nausea pass through him. Is this what panic felt like? “Would you like to join me?” you asked, taking your coffee from the barista. “Yes,” he managed to say, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead as he followed you and that damned perfume trail to the seat by the window. He was in over his head. He needed to get away.

“I’ve seen you before,” you said to him, as you sat down. “You like to sit on the bench.” You pointed to his usual vantage point, eyeing him curiously. “Yes,” he smiled, “I like to sit and watch the world go by.” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed him; you were always so engrossed in your work. There was that stomach dropping feeling again, but this time it was accompanied by the most delicious feeling, like his stomach was fizzing. His shirt felt too tight, his tie a little too snug around his neck. What the hell was happening to him? Was he losing his edge?

“You like to people watch?” you smiled, “so do I. It’s why I sit here. I find people fascinating.” He was trying to concentrate on what you were saying, but your mascara-streaked cheeks were such a distraction. He wanted to wipe them clean, to remove the inky black stains that spoiled your perfect skin. He wanted to lick away the tear streaks from your face, to tie you down and fuck you until the tears you cried were for him.

You watched him, maintained eye contact as you waited for him to speak. He was so lost in his thoughts that he couldn’t remember what you’d said. “You’ve been crying,” he observed instead. “Why?” You laughed nervously, wiping at your makeup-stained face. “Oh, just ex-boyfriends,” you laughed, “nothing serious.”

Nothing serious?! In all the meticulous research he’d done, there had been no mention of an ex-boyfriend. How serious had it been? Was he still in the picture? Evidently, he was, if he was still able to make you cry. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he managed to say, barely clinging to his polite persona. He wanted to tear this man apart, whoever he was. He wanted to make him feel agonising pain in every inch of his body. You were his, and his alone. He managed to maintain his composure for the rest of your chat, his mind drifting between your perfect features, thoughts of fucking you until you begged him to stop, and thoughts of ripping apart the man who had made you cry. The time was approaching 6:00pm. You’d be heading home soon, to cook some dinner and watch some Netflix, or read a book. He’d have to be content to watch you from the restaurant across the road, your figure outlined in your cream curtain against the soft glow of your lamps.

“You know,” you turned to him as you pulled your coat on, “you don’t have to watch me from the window. If you wanted to talk to me, you could just come and sit down.” You smiled slyly, and left the coffee house without a further word. Never in his life had he been left speechless. He thought he knew you, thought he had you all figured out. He’d spent months learning all there was to know about you. He knew the names of your parents, knew how much money you had in your bank account, knew the name of your first-grade teacher, but you’d blindsided him in a single sentence. You knew he’d been watching you at the coffee house. You knew and you chose to stay in that same spot and let him stare at you every day. You knew what you were doing when you sat in front of the window at 4:00pm each afternoon. You were enticing him. You wanted him to play with you. You put yourself on display for him.

As he followed you to your apartment, a good few meters apart so you didn’t catch on, he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time he’d finally met his match.

[mead-iocre]

Wife? | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: "accidentally" calling Leah "wife"

warnings: none

wc: 3.7k words

There is another new tiktok trend. 

Again, not a viral dance routine.

This one was definitely more nerve-wrecking than the one you did a few weeks ago. With the other tiktok trend, you could pretty much predict how your girlfriend was going to react. However, with this one, it could go either way. 

The good thing was that the trend itself was still a fairly simple one. All you need to do was to call your boyfriend/girlfriend “husband” or “wife”, and film their reaction. 

From the embarrassingly long time you’ve spent scrolling through videos of other couples doing the trend, most of the reactions have been pretty positive. The ones getting pranked either grew shy or reacted excitedly at their new nickname– kissing their partner and playing it up with the camera. However, there was a video that you saw where the reaction was exactly what you were afraid of. A viral video of one couple, where the man getting pranked reacted quite cruelly. He immediately shut down the implications of the new nickname, leaving his girlfriend awkwardly staring at the camera in shock.

You just prayed Leah wouldn’t react as bad as that. 

Marriage was something you and Leah had talk about before. In passing. It was always a fleeting part of the conversation, something that never really went beyond the mutual agreement that you both saw yourself getting married one day. Whether that marriage was to each other was never really a topic of conversation. However, you could see yourself being married to her. Early mornings would be a hectic time since you both had had to leave for practice early. Afternoons on the weekdays would probably be spent having brunch by the river with friends, or spending time at home cuddled up on the sofa while a football match is blasting in the tv. Evenings would be spent cooking together, or arguing about who should be the main builder for the latest Ikea furniture that was purchased.

You just hoped she pictured a similar future. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Hey everyone!” You smile brightly, waving at your phone’s front camera. A flood of hearts started floating across the screen, comments pouring in. Your phone is propped nicely by the new tripod your girlfriend had recently gotten for you. Leah had grown tired of you using random bits around the house to prop your phone up everywhere you had to do your tiktok lives, grumbling about how you always forget to put things back where they belong so she had to do it for you. 

In the middle of Leah’s kitchen, you were stood on the other side of the island, checking over the ingredients one more time. The kitchen around was a charming, lived-in space, with mismatched mugs hanging from hooks and spices haphazardly arranged on a shelf.  You were dressed in your favourite comfy loungewear set, your hair cascading down your back, and fuzzy slippers on your feet. You loved filming these tiktok videos and fans often left suggestions for your next video. However, what you enjoyed more was having someone with you to film. Usually, you could rope a teammate or two to participate in the latest tiktok dance, but other times, when you begged hard enough, you could sometimes convince Leah to film with you. 

Leah, oblivious to the prank looming ahead, was standing right beside you. Clad in a worn-out vintage arsenal t-shirt and grey nike track bottoms, she leans casually against the counter, arms clasped behind her back. Her hair is tied away from her face in a loose ponytail, short strands of blonde hair framing her face. After much nagging (and kisses), she agreed to go on live with you again. 

“I’ve gotten quite a few requests to have Leah back for another video.” You gesture to the blonde right beside you. “And I know you guys really enjoyed the last cooking live where we attempted to make Leah’s infamous pasta dish–“

“Which is a Williamson secret recipe mind you” Leah interjects with a signature finger point at the camera. “You lot should be grateful I shared it!”

amanda: first time im joining a live!!!! hellooo

maise: pls say JONAS OUT!

woso.fc: I made it and it was actually really good

katiesgirl: leah looks gooddddd. respectfully, y/n MOVE

“Yeah well thanks for sharing the recipe, Lee. Who knew a basic bolognese sauce and some pasta would taste so good”

“Oi! You love my pasta!”, Leah exclaims as she points at you accusingly. 

You laugh loudly, head thrown back. “To be fair the pasta that Leah makes is quite good” 

“good? good. mate you go for seconds–” You place your palm over her mouth to shush her, playfully glaring at her. The delicate skin around corner of her eyes wrinkle in amusement.

“Alright. I'll admit it. Your pasta is delicious.”

Leah pulls your hand away from her mouth, pressing a quick kiss on the back of it, and keeping it held hostage in hers. 

“Okay. Let’s get started. Today we will be making red velvet cupcakes!”, You turn to the blonde beside you, squeezing the hand that she was holding, practically bouncing on your toes in excitement. Red Velvet cupcakes were one of your favourite treats and Leah knew exactly how much you were craving it lately, hence why she had no complaints when you suggested the recipe. 

“But…”, Pausing for dramatic effect. You grab the box of ready-to-make mix and show it off to the camera. “We’ll be using cake mix to cut time”

The comments flood through- probably laughing at you for cheating the recipe. You were so excited for the cupcakes that you almost forgot that you were supposed to also be doing a prank on your girlfriend.  

Pulling out a mixing bowl from the cupboard and a couple of measuring cups, you set them on the counter with a clatter. “So, step one!” Leah read aloud, reading from the back of the box. “Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.”

You turn around to the oven behind you, dramatically turning the dial on the oven, earning a sarcastic round of applause from the chat and a few teasing comments.

“Now,” she continued, tearing open the box, “we need to pour this into the bowl. I think this is the most technical part.” She dumped the powdery cake mix into the bowl, a small cloud of white dust puffing into the air, making you both cough and laugh. You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing Leah’s as you worked together, the warm glow of the kitchen light casting a soft shadow over your figures. 

You moved through the steps, laughter echoing as you watched Leah comically crack the eggs into the ball, exaggerating her movements and making faces at you. You glance at the chat that was a constant stream of comments and emojis. “I feel like we’re on a cooking show, but with way more judgment.”

“You lot can’t judge! we’re professional footballers— not professional bakers,” she warned playfully waving the spatula in the air. You giggled as you poured in the vegetable oil, watching the amber liquid sink into the cake mix. “Someone just asked what flavour of cake we’re making,” she read aloud. “It’s red velvet! Her favourite” Leah points a finger at you. 

“I wish more weddings served red velvet. It’s always vanilla or lemon— red velvet is superior!” Turning to the camera, you wave the whisk around. “I’d serve red velvet cake at my wedding” 

You don’t weren’t a hundred percent certain, but you swear you heard Leah mutter “noted” under her breath, but you pay it no mind. Maybe it was you brain playing tricks on you. 

The both of you two exchanged amused glances as the sound of the stand mixer continued to fill the room. It was then you noticed the a smudge of white flour on her chin, the pale powder a contrast to her lingering tan from your last holiday. How she even managed to get flour on her chin, you have no idea. 

“Look at me, love” Leah turns her attention from the chat back to you with an eyebrow raised. You gesture for her to turn her cheek to the other side so you can wipe away the dust of flour. Thumbing it away gently, you grin at her and whisper “messy girl” only for her ears. 

Unable to resist, Leah sneaks a quick kiss, planting a peck on your lips. You get a quick whiff of white musk and pear before you felt her lips soft against your own. Between the two of you, Leah was always more affectionate, uncaring for any eyes and attention from others around you. You, however, were shy by nature; however you weren’t opposed to how much your girlfriend loved on you so you gladly welcomed her affection.

“Thanks, baby” She whispered back to you, kissing the crown on your head since you were bowing your head, trying to hide your cheeks that you had no doubt were blushing bright red as of that moment. “Okay! Now we have to pour this into the pan and wait!”

As she carefully tipped the bowl over a greased cake tin, the batter flowed smoothly into it, spreading out evenly. “I’m actually enjoying this. Reckon I should quit football?” she said,  turning to you with a grin on her face. She taps the bowl to get the last bit of batter out. 

“Let’s perfect this recipe first, Lee. And stay with the football thing for now” 

lacy: stick to football we need youuuu

paige: no leah no arsenal

stephanie: Leah on Great British Bakeoff when?

awfcsgirl: im craving red velvet cupcakes now 

“Now into the oven it goes!”

You opened the oven door with a mock bow, and she slid the cake pan inside. Closing the door together, you give the camera a triumphant look. “And now we wait!” you say, leaning against the counter with a grin.

The live chat was buzzing with messages, some asking about decorating, others just enjoying the playful banter. Leah grabbed her phone to read a few comments. “People are really invested in what we’re going to top this with,” he laughed. “I’m thinking frosting. Lots and lots of frosting.”

You both moved to the kitchen table, pulling up chairs to chat with the audience while the cake baked. The timer on the oven ticked softly in the background. The conversation was relaxed and easy, filled with laughter as you both responded to questions from the chat. Every now and then, you would glance over at the oven, impatient, and Leah would joke about how you had the patience of a toddler.

When the timer finally beeped, you both jumped up, racing to the oven. The scent of baked goods filled the kitchen as she carefully opened the door and pulled the tray out, red and perfectly risen. “Look at that! It didn’t burn” she exclaimed, holding it up for the camera.

After letting it cool for a few minutes, you got to work on the frosting, spreading a generous layer of cheese cream cheese frosting over each of the cupcakes. The soft white contrasting beautifully with the deep red.

“There you have it!” she said, holding the cupcake you were working on for the final reveal. “From cake mix to masterpiece, with love and a little help from you guys!”

You turn towards the camera. “All right, guys. We’re about to do a taste test. Red velvet cupcakes, made from scratch, and zero fire alarms were set off in the process. A win for us.” 

“Moment of truth,” Leah whispered, glancing over at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. You nodded, handing Leah a cupcake, your fingers brushing against each other as you exchanged the treats. You caught her eye and smiled, a playful glint in your gaze. And if Leah was paying attention to you she would’ve noticed the way you were pressing your lips together and nervously shifting on your feet, a telltale sign that you were up to something. However, your girlfriend was completely oblivious. She was already too focused on the cupcake in her hand, studying it like it was a masterpiece.

“Ready?” You asked, holding your cupcake up for the camera. Then, without any ceremony, you each took a bite at the same time. Leah took a generous mouthful of the soft, velvety cake, while you hesitated for a second; debating on whether now was the right time.

You took a smaller bite and instantly the rich, velvety cake melted on your tongue. The sweetness mixed perfectly with the tang of the cream cheese frosting. You closed her eyes, letting out a quiet hum of approval, savouring the flavour of your favourite sweet treat. When you opened your eyes again, you found Leah already watching you, her lips dusted with frosting. She grinned at you in approval, and prepared to take another big bite of the cupcake. As you watched her chew thoughtfully, you took your chance.

“You look like you’re enjoying it. Let’s let my wife give her review first” You said, your voice surprisingly dripping with casual nonchalance, as if you hadn’t just thrown a verbal grenade into the middle of your taste test. Instead, the endearment came out quite naturally from your lips.

Leah froze mid-chew. Her eyes wide, she slowly turned towards you, cupcake still in hand, as the word wife echoed in her mind.

“Wife?” She managed to say through her mouthful of cake, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. In the warm glow of the lights, you can see the slight flush of her cheeks, though she tried to cover it by taking another bite; her eyes narrowed at you, who was now struggling to contain your laughter.

The TikTok chat went wild.

awfc_fc: WIFE???

sav: Did she just say WIFE??

liv: DID I MISS A CHAPTER WHAT

zachary: WIFE??? HELLO?!

Unable to hold it in anymore, you burst into laughter, the kind that made you double over and clutch at your stomach. “What? It was an accident,” you say, though the mischievous twinkle in your eyes said otherwise.

Leah swallowed her bite, narrowing her eyes at you, though you can see a smile tugging at her lips. “An accident? Really?”

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you straightened up, still grinning. “Yeah, it slipped out. Didn’t mean to call you my wife, love.” You sneak a quick wink at the camera. 

The blonde shook her head, trying to stay serious, but the grin she was holding back finally broke through. “You’re lucky this cupcake is so good, or else I’d throw this at you right now.”

“Oh, c’mon, you love it,” You teased, taking a victorious bite of your own cupcake. Now that the prank was over, you can freely enjoy the sweet treat. “And, technically, I’m not wrong. I mean, future wife, right?”

Leah felt her heart skip at that as she continued to gaze at you. She watched you enjoy your cupcake, humming after every bite. Your earlier words still hung in the air, lingering and nagging.

In the midst of you enjoying your treat, you noticed a small shift in her expression. Your teasing demeanour melted a little, ever so slightly. You tilted your head at her, trying to read the expression on her face. “I mean… eventually, right?” You asked, quieter this time, like you hadn’t meant for those words to slip out either.

Leah’s heart fluttered again at the way your voice caught slightly against the back of your throat when you spoke. Like there was a blanket of uncertainty and doubt over your words, which was a rarity for someone as self-assured as you.

She cleared her throat, feeling it tighten and clog as a result of the palpable tension in the air. This raw, vulnerable moment awarded a fleeting pause in the midst of a long day filled with football practice, article deadlines, red velvet cupcakes, and now sudden talks of the future-- it was overwhelming.

As you both sat in brief silence, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Every heartbeat seemed louder than the last.

Always the fixer, Leah broke the silence first. She cleared her throat again, rolling her eyes playfully at you, trying to steer the mood back to light. She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. Are you rushing me? Otherwise I wouldn't put up with your pranks and accidents." The last bit was accompanied by finger air quotes.

She felt you were rushing her?

You looked down at your half eaten cupcake, absentmindedly tracing the edge of the wrapper. The prank was meant to be fun, but as the words "future wife" slipped from your lips earlier, you noticed the way leah's smile faltered, just for a second. Barely noticeable, but it was like a neon sign in your mind, glaring and buzzing, leaving your stomach knotted.

Had you unintentionally placed a burden on her?

You forced a smile, hoping it masked the uncertainty bubbling inside. It wasn’t like you meant to bring up marriage all the time—well, maybe you did. Looking back, it was always you initiating the conversation on marriage or your future together. But it was hard not to. After three years together, you could already picture every detail: the dress, the flowers, the vows. It was all so clear in your head, yet now it felt like you was rushing towards something Leah hadn’t even fully considered.

The uncertainty now gnawed at you. Part of you wanted to blurt out, “Are we okay? Do you really feel that I'm rushing you?” But the fear of hearing something you weren't ready for kept you quiet. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, feigning relaxation, while your thoughts swirled like a storm you couldn’t control.

"I really got you there, didn't i?" You tried to lighten the mood with another joke. “Who would’ve thought I could leave Thee Leah Williamson speechless by calling her my wife”

Shit.

Silence. 

Silence.

Silence.

There you go again, carelessly throwing the word away without making sure she was comfortable. You wanted to smack your head against the table, mentally cursing yourself. Maybe she really wasn't comfortable with the implications of that word yet. Maybe it was too soon.

Thinking you had made the moment awkward again, you try to backtrack. “I-I didn't mean--I'm not rushing you. At all. I was kidding--“

“Baby” 

You ignore her at first, turning to the camera to cover up your embarrassment. You desperately try to settle the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Maybe this prank wasn’t such a good idea in the first place.

“Baby”

You finally look at her. You lips were pressed tightly in a line, ready to end the live if she said the word.

“I got it.”

You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows, very confused by what she meant. “Wha–“

“I heard you the first time” You really couldn't read the expression on her face right at that moment. However, the corners of her lips were tipped up slightly, which is a good sign. 

You did not expect to hear the next thing that came out of her mouth. 

“I’ve already got the ring. I plan on marrying you. Just give me a minute to plan something, yeah?”

Your breath hitched, heart thudding in your chest as your eyes widened. You stared at the blonde, completely caught off guard, as if the rest of the world went still for a moment. Her expression was soft, teasing still, but there was something undeniably real in her eyes.

You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words seemed to escape you. This time, it was you who was rendered speechless. You had known that a proposal might come sometime soon. In fact, you had been having thoughts about proposing to her yourself, but getting confirmation that she was thinking about it too has caught you completely off guard. But it was just like Leah to throw you completely off guard when she proposes. This was probably the most Leah-proposal ever. 

meademaa: CHAT IS THIS REAL

mac: I HEARD HER SAY RING DID SHE SAY RING

lacely: NO FCUKING WAY

goonerrr: PAUSE DID SHE JUST

“I know you lot aren’t acting surprised!” Leah turns her head towards the camera with a little laugh, completely oblivious to the fact that you still hadn’t spoken a word for over a minute or so– which was a new record for a yapper like you. 

You were usually quick-witted and composed, but in this moment, you felt utterly stunned, as if time had slowed to a crawl. Finally, you snapped out of it and turned towards the camera. There might be tears already welling in your eyes and your voice might’ve come out a bit shaky but no one could blame you. 

“R-right then. We’re ending the live here. Thanks for watching, everyone!” You round the kitchen counter hastily, practically speed-walking to turn off the recording button. You give the camera one more watery smile and wave, eyeing the flood of comments who are already giving ‘congratulations’ messages. 

alessiasextensions: DID WE JUST WITNESS A PROPOSAL

lessifc: CONGRATS MOTHESR

amber: wheres my invite to the wedding????

jordy: might cry or something 

You turn around to face your girlfriend– soon fiancé perhaps. You couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled, the blues reflecting the gentle glow of the setting sun. Every feature of her face was etched into your memory – the curve of her smile and the crinkle at the corners of her eyes when she laughed.

Leah was in the midst of bringing another cupcake to her lips, and she’s got the widest grin on her face. She also looked lighter, more relaxed somehow, like she'd been finally free of a heavy load that's been weighing her down.

And in that moment, as your eyes meet hers, you knew with absolute certainty that you would wait for however long it took for her to ask you the question. You knew the moment you met her she would be someone special to you, so you could afford to wait a little longer. Besides, you already knew your answer. It would be the easiest ‘yes’ in your life. 

Sitting back in your seat beside her, you narrow your eyes slightly, pointing a finger at her.

“I want you down on one knee when you propose for real, you cheeky fucker” 

this has been in my drafts for a whiiiiile. i wrote and rewrote this one so many times until i was satisfied with how it played out.

dedicating this fic to the anon who gave me the idea back in march and everyone else who was waiting so patiently for it to escape the WIP jail lol.

hope it was worth the long wait <3333

comments and reactions appreciated!

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Thursdays

Kinktober Day 5: Double Penetration

Male Yandere Cat Hybrids x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, cum as lube, double penetration, some fluff, clingy yanderes, general yandere behavior, cat men, centaurs mentioned

Word Count: 457

(Wrote for kinktober though I have been meaning to write it for a while. Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy it even though I rushed. This is the long awaited fourth day in the farm harem series Animal Farm. The original fic and other days can be found HERE!)

It was Thursday. That meant two horny cat men. Leeko and Meeko. It wasn't so bad; their dicks weren't any bigger than a significantly well-endowed human's, and most of the day was cuddling and playing rather than just fucking. 

You didn't even bother washing off from the last round with the centaurs. Cum still dribbled down your thighs. What was the point? The cat men would lick every inch of you when they saw you, no matter what.

When you entered their shelter, your prediction was proven correct immediately. They had been waiting in anticipation to ambush you as soon as you walked in.

"Farmer!" They exclaimed in unison. 

Leeko, the pale cat man who looked human except for his furry orange cat ears and tail, started at your neck. Meeko, the dark-skinned cat hybrid with calico fur, started cleaning at your thighs and happily lapped up the centaur cum.

They made short work of the task, though they left a bit of cum to use as lube when they made love with their favorite human. 

The calico laid down and pulled you on top of him. He quickly slipped into your cum-lubed hole that had been so kindly pre-stretched by the centaurs. 

Leeko rubbed up your sides as he cozied up behind you and slid his dick into your entrance to join Meeko's. He nuzzled and licked your neck as he pounded you.

So much for a break from huge cocks. It didn't matter that they were smaller than the others when they were both in you at once.

Both cats were purring loudly as they plowed you hard. Neither of them lasted very long. They were just so excited to have time with you. They quickly added their own seed to the cum already inside you. 

They had much more stamina and resilience than a human and quickly went back to railing you together. When the three of you were tired from several orgasms each, you could finally rest.

They laid down with you between them, kissing, nuzzling, cuddling, and cleaning their precious farmer before you fell asleep on one of their chests. 

With the mandatory sex out of the way, the rest of the day would consist of lazing about, using a laser pointer and watching them "hunt,"  spending time outside watching them run about, and maybe a bit of fishing on the lake that bordered the farm.

Though fishing with them was more them pestering you into fishing and then purring, nuzzling, and clinging to you while you tried to catch them fresh food. 

There may be one last round of sex before bed, but overall it would be a nice break from the non-stop fucking that filled most of the other weekdays. 

[too-antigonish]

Gävlebocken! It's time!!!!!!

What are the chances? Since 1966 only 16 goats have survived completely intact. More often than not, the goat has been set on fire—lately by increasingly nefarious and/or ridiculous means. It has also been tipped over, hit by cars, kicked to pieces, stolen, etc.

What constitutes success? It has to make it from today until January 2nd (the first weekday after New Year).

My stance on the goat: Technically, I'm firmly pro-goat. I like to root for the underdog. I also once watched a documentary (Christmas Begins in Gävle) about the ten guys who build this thing every year and I'm a sucker for a sob story. On the other hand...you can't make this stuff up!

Last year's goat: Eaten by jackdaws! The straw used to construct the goat contained an unusually high percentage of seeds which attracted the birds. The goat was consumed at an alarming rate.

The Fate of the Goat Year-by-Year:

Laconic "We Do Not Glorify Goat Violence" Swedish Version

Detailed Everything That Could Ever Possibly Go Wrong with a Goat Wiki Version

This year's predictions:

According to the official Gävlebocken FAQ:

Question: Does the straw harvest look more promising than last year? Answer: Yes, the straw harvest looks good this year! Question: What other potential measures do you have to prevent the birds from eating the goat? Answer: Given that the straw looks good this year with long stems, good quality, and no seeds (as far as we know), we hope that any bird visits won't cause as much damage this year. Question: Already last year, bird experts stated in the media that the jackdaws would likely return. Have you consulted bird experts in preparation for the upcoming season? Answer: "We know the straw is of better quality this year. If the jackdaws return, we will monitor the situation and address it accordingly."

[nostarfights]

Stay A Little Longer

Pairing: congressman!Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky spend a quiet morning together before he has to leave for the day.

Warnings: Cuddling, kissing, established relationship, reader making Bucky late for work and a little cursing.

Word Count: 2K

a/n: i’ve been in my bucky brain rot era recently so here’s yet another bucky oneshot lol

the photos below do not belong to me

It was a quiet sunny Monday morning when you woke up, the only sounds flowing through you and Bucky’s bedroom being the soft sound of Bucky’s snoring and Alpine’s gentle purring. You felt incredibly calm as you laid next to your sweet boyfriend and cat and if you could, you’d stay here with the two of them forever. 

A smile slowly broke out across your face as you continued to lay there in your beloved spot in his arms and you relished in this moment before Bucky soon woke up, he always did as if he had some sort of sixth sense for when you woke up or left the bed. 

And just as you had predicted, his blue eyes began to slowly open a few minutes later while the sun filled the room with a warm, comforting glow. He tightened his once loose arms around you and brought your body closer to his own, prompting you to rest your head on his bare chest once more while your legs became tangled underneath the blanket on your bed.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What time is it?” he softly said, still partially half-asleep, while he placed his right hand on your cheek and slowly tilted your head up so that your eyes met his, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once they were within reach.

“Good morning. It's 6:30.” you replied in between kisses, desperately trying to stop yourself from brightly grinning as you kissed him back. 

As Bucky processed this information, a mild shocked feeling washed over him. He’d woken up before his alarm had gone off for once. But even so, he still had only an hour left to go until he would have to leave you and Alpine and go to work. But he promised himself that he would cherish every minute of the time he had left with you this morning.

—-----------------------------------

The next thirty minutes you and Bucky spent together in bed before he had to start getting ready for the day flew by and before you knew it, it was now time for him to leave your warm, soft bed, making you frown as you watched him get up. 

He opened his mouth to speak as you followed him into the kitchen, “I promise that I’ll be back in your arms before you know it.” he said with a soft smile as he walked backwards into the room, addressing the frown that was still present on your face, making that frown turn into a smirk as an idea quickly popped into your head. 

Your idea was that once Bucky sat down on your bed to get dressed, you were going to convince him to stay home with you a little while longer by running your fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. That always got him to melt like ice in your hands. And sure, you knew that you were probably going to make him late but all you wanted was at least ten extra minutes with Bucky this morning.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked while he quickly grabbed a few things from your fridge and began to make breakfast for you and him on the stove, his back to you as that smirk on your face turned into a grin. 

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking of something funny I saw on TikTok the other day.” you explained as you leaned against the counter, trying to hold a laugh back so that you wouldn’t give yourself away.

Which worked, “Okay, doll, if you say so.” Bucky said, dragging out the last word as a grin rolled out across his own lips. He didn’t believe you, knowing that you were probably plotting something, but he let it go anyway.

Soon enough, Bucky was done making the quick breakfast he whipped up for the two of you each weekday morning. He then carried your two plates over to your living room, setting them down on the coffee table while you followed and sat down next to him.

And as you sat there, your thighs touching due to how close you were to each other, you spoke again, “What’re you getting up to today?” you asked him, making him smile as he told you about all of his plans for the day. 

From the boring meeting he had to attend in a few hours to the speech he had to prepare this afternoon, you listened intently to every single thing he told you in this moment as you leaned back on the couch and rested one of your legs over his. And once he was done speaking, you told him about your own plans today and how you’d been dreading the presentation you were supposed to give today. 

“I’m sure it’ll go great, doll and if it doesn’t, I’m always just one phone call away.” he reassured you as he held out his pinky, prompting you to take it in yours and shake your two fingers together.

“I know, I’m just nervous is all.” you explained, eliciting an understanding nod from him as you looked into his eyes. 

Once you were both done eating breakfast not long after this conversation ended, Bucky picked up both plates and set them down in the sink as you followed him into the bathroom, he’d deal with the dishes later when he got home from work that evening. 

You admired his reflection in the mirror as he combed out his shoulder length hair and as much as you loved his short hair as well, seeing him with longer hair made you feel as if you were falling in love with him all over again. It reminded you of how he looked when you first met him all those years ago.

And while Bucky started to brush his teeth a few minutes later, thoughts of you easily began to fill his mind. 

He thought about how gentle, understanding and loving you’d always been with him, especially when you first met. He thought about the slow, quiet mornings you’d spent together like this one and how they included some of his favorite moments he’s ever spent with you. He thought about the first time he ever told you that he loved you and how you were able to make him feel human again.

As soon as he was done getting ready in the bathroom, he then followed you out to the kitchen where you started to make his lunch for today, a simple pb&j sandwich. Your cheeks blushed as he appeared behind you and pressed kisses to your cheeks and neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you cut the crusts off of the bread. “Bucky!” you softly said as you held back a smile, making him laugh a little.

He had never forced you to make him lunch, he was completely fine with doing it himself and you knew that but insisted on it anyway. You wanted to do something nice for him, something that would remind him of you whenever he opened his lunchbox in his office during his break.

When you finished preparing the sandwich a few minutes later, you safely placed it in a sandwich bag, put it inside his lunch box where his water bottle already resided and zipped it shut. Now that that was done with, you then walked with Bucky back to your bedroom and picked out his clothes for the day, a white undershirt, a white button up that always hugged his muscles in a way that made your heart pound, a black blazer and black dress pants.

You watched him with admiration in your eyes once more as he sat down on the edge of the bed and started to get undressed, the clothes he’d picked out now sitting folded up next to him. He looked so handsome, breathtakingly so. You wanted to stare at him forever as if he was going to disappear the second you looked away from him.

“What’re you looking at?” he asked as he buttoned his shirt up, a shy smile on his face as you sat down next to him and began to run your fingers through his soft hair.

“Nothing, I’m just so in love with you, Bucky.” you told him, causing his cheeks to blush as he looked at you and took your free hand in his. 

As you spoke, you let your fingers sink down to his roots and started to massage Bucky’s scalp, making his eyes shut almost right away. This feeling as well as your presence always comforted him and made him feel safe. Like he could finally let his tense shoulders drop for once and all his worries melt away. 

“Stay a little longer? Please.” you asked as you inched yourself closer to him, resting your legs over his once again.

“Whatever you want, baby.” he muttered in response as he let himself fall back onto the mattress below him, no longer caring that he had to leave for work in five minutes.

And as you laid down with him, your head resting on his chest and your hand still in his hair, Bucky felt himself grow sleepy almost in an instant.

You’d always been great at relaxing him, making him wish for just a second that he hadn’t given into the feeling of your hand in his hair but he did it anyway because even though he knew he’d end up being late, he hated being away from you so he was perfectly content with being a little late as long as that meant he got to be with you for longer. 

He was so in love with you and would do anything to spend every single minute he had to spare with you, no matter if it got him in trouble at work or with his friends. He would do whatever he possibly could to ensure that you were always happy.

The longer you laid there together, the sleepier the two of you became and soon enough you started to doze off. But all too soon fifteen minutes after you initially laid down with him, Bucky’s phone started to loudly ring from its spot on his bedside table, causing you both to abruptly wake up. His assistant, Chris, was calling him. 

He then sleepily reached as far as he could and retrieved his phone, “Hello?” Bucky said as you sat up, his sleepiness very evident in his voice.

“Sir, where are you? The meeting starts in twenty minutes!” Bucky’s assistant said, making him perk immediately.

“Right, shit. I’m so sorry. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky replied before he then hung up and started to finish getting ready.

A frown appeared on Bucky’s face once he became fully dressed, “I’m so sorry, doll but I gotta go.” he explained, now standing in front of where you were still sitting on the bed as he slipped his shoes on. You frowned back at him as you stood up, you knew your plan wouldn’t keep him home for long but you were still sad to see him go.

“It’s okay, we’ll see each other again soon.” you replied as you softly smiled at him and fixed his messy hair. 

“I’ll call you on my lunch break, okay?” he promised as you walked over to your front door with him, grabbing his bag for him on the way there.

“Okay, Bucky. I love you.” you told him while you stood up on your tippy toes a little and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” he replied after he’d kissed you back, his arms wrapped tightly around you, making you blush for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

And before you could completely close the front door once Bucky was out in the hallway just moments later after your drawn out goodbye, he blew you a kiss through the crack in the door. “I love you, baby!” he said somewhat loudly while he started to walk away, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps as you giggled. 

Now that he was gone, it was time for you to get ready for your own job and finally feed a now hungry, screaming Alpine.

NAVIGATION send me a request!

[ms-snape]

Ok but perhaps you can please write something about severus having a to take his chubby little one year old daughter to work with him because mom was tired that day? Like just fluff

Title: Hope Eleanor Snape

Warning: Pure fluff

Words Count: 2800+

Masterlist

---

Severus Snape had never imagined himself the type of man to carry a baby through the halls of Hogwarts. Certainly not on a weekday morning, with a class full of inattentive students awaiting his arrival in the dungeons. But here he was, doing just that, the weight of his one-year-old daughter settled comfortably on his hip as her small hand tangled in the collar of his robes.

Hope Eleanor Snape was everything Severus never thought he deserved—soft where he was sharp, light where he was dark. Her chubby cheeks, flushed from a restless night, were pink against the stark black of his robes, and her eyes, a deep, intense black like his own, gazed up at him with an innocent curiosity.

It had been one of those mornings. Y/n, his wife, had been up with Hope for most of the night, soothing the little girl who had stubbornly refused sleep. When the morning sun peeked through the window, Y/n had barely stirred, her exhaustion evident in the deep circles beneath her eyes. Severus had kissed her forehead gently and told her to rest, knowing full well he would have to bring Hope with him to class.

As he strode through the corridors, Hope seemed fascinated by everything around her. The echo of his boots on the stone floors, the soft flutters of a tapestry as they passed, even the flickering of torchlight caught her attention. She babbled, her tiny voice filling the silence of the usually foreboding dungeons, and Severus found himself listening, a faint smile playing on his lips despite himself.

The doors to his classroom loomed ahead, and Severus sighed quietly, preparing himself for what he knew would be an unusual lesson. He adjusted Hope in his arms as she tried to reach for a lock of his hair, her small fingers grasping at the air with determination.

"Let’s see how you handle this, little one," Severus murmured under his breath. He could already predict the scene that awaited him: distracted students, whispers, stares. Not that he cared for their opinions, of course. His concern was that Hope, with her boundless curiosity and penchant for grabbing things she shouldn’t, might cause a disruption he’d struggle to manage.

Pushing open the door with a sharp flick of his wrist, Severus entered the classroom.

It took precisely three seconds for the room to descend into absolute silence. The students, who had been murmuring among themselves as they set up their cauldrons and ingredients, froze in unison, their eyes wide and disbelieving as they took in the sight before them.

There stood their typically dour, imposing Potions Master, dressed in his usual billowing black robes, holding a small, chubby child who was currently sucking on two of her fingers and blinking curiously at the room.

Severus didn’t need to speak to command their attention; the sheer absurdity of the moment had done that for him.

Hope, oblivious to the stunned looks from the students, wriggled slightly in his arms, tugging insistently at his robes as if trying to gain his attention. She was used to being the center of attention, after all—especially from her mother, who doted on her endlessly. And even though Hope loved his daughter with a fierce, protective intensity, he wasn’t as effusive with his affections as Y/n was. It was just his nature, but Hope didn’t seem to mind.

The baby let out a soft coo, her voice high-pitched and cheerful, and Severus felt the eyes of the entire classroom zero in on her. He could practically hear their hearts melting. He sighed.

"As you can see," Severus said in his usual low, silken tone, "My daughter will be joining us today. Your focus, however, will remain on your potions. I will not tolerate any distractions." He let his gaze sweep across the room, daring anyone to challenge him.

But it was a hopeless demand.

The students’ attention was already fixed on Hope, and there was little he could do to break the spell she seemed to cast. Several girls in the front row were exchanging looks of utter adoration, their eyes wide as they took in Hope round cheeks, the way her tiny fists grasped at her father’s robes, her dark curls tousled in an adorably messy way.

"She’s so cute," someone whispered, followed by a chorus of murmurs.

Severus raised an eyebrow, his lips tightening, though he couldn’t bring himself to truly reprimand them. Eleanor was, in fact, a spitting image of her mother, save for the eyes. Those deep, fathomless black eyes that mirrored his own made her seem more serious than any baby had a right to be. But her chubby face, her sweet, infectious smile—those were all Y/n. It was as if the world had taken Y/n’s softness and poured it into Eleanor, creating this little bundle of joy who had quickly become the center of Severus’s universe, even if he was reluctant to admit it openly.

He walked to his desk, settling Hope into a conjured playpen near his chair. She babbled happily as she was placed among her toys—plush creatures that Severus had charmed to move on their own, a small wooden wand Y/n had given her to wave around harmlessly, and her favorite—a stuffed dragon with large, flapping wings.

"Now," Severus said, his voice sharp as ever, "today’s lesson is on the brewing of Draught of Peace. You will follow the instructions precisely, or you will face the consequences."

But even as he spoke, he could feel the collective attention of the students drifting back to Hope. It was impossible not to be captivated by her. She sat happily in her playpen, one pudgy hand holding the dragon’s tail while her other hand reached for her mouth, gnawing on her fingers as she gurgled contentedly.

Severus began to pace the classroom, his usual routine of observing students’ progress, though today his sharp remarks were fewer. He found himself glancing over at Hope more often than he would have liked, just to ensure she was content. She, in turn, occasionally caught his eye and gave him a bright, gummy smile, causing an unexpected warmth to flood his chest.

She really did look so much like Y/n.

As the students measured out their ingredients and stirred their cauldrons, Severus heard more than a few muffled giggles from the back of the room. He turned just in time to see Hope standing up in her playpen, holding onto the side for support as she bounced on her chubby little legs. She was clearly proud of herself, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Sit down, Miss Snape," he murmured, almost to himself, and with a wave of his hand, the playpen gently lowered her back onto her bottom. Hope blinked, momentarily confused, before resuming her exploration of the toys.

The class went on, but the students were hopelessly distracted. Severus caught Hermione Granger looking over at Hope at least three times, her hands hovering uncertainly over her cauldron. Even Draco Malfoy, usually so focused on his potion work, had his attention split between stirring his potion and watching Hope as she waved her little wand in the air, making nonsensical motions.

Finally, one student—a Slytherin girl with wide eyes and a nervous smile—raised her hand hesitantly. Severus nodded toward her.

"Professor, uhm, sir, is she always this—um—energetic?" the girl asked, glancing at Hope as she attempted to chew on the stuffed dragon’s wing.

Severus arched an eyebrow, casting a glance at his daughter, who was now gnawing intently on the plush toy, her face scrunched in concentration. She paused only to look up at her father and giggle softly, a sweet, bubbly sound that filled the room.

"She is… persistent," Severus said at last, his voice a touch softer than usual. It was the truth. Hope, much like her mother, had an unyielding spirit. Once she set her mind to something—whether it was staying awake through the night or trying to stand in her playpen—she did it with all the determination a one-year-old could muster.

The students exchanged looks, their smiles widening. Severus knew he had lost their attention completely by this point. And yet, as he glanced at his daughter, now thoroughly entertained by her toys, he found he didn’t mind nearly as much as he thought he would.

The lesson continued, albeit with more focus on Hope than on the potions. Severus moved between the desks, making the necessary corrections to students’ work, though his mind was never far from the playpen by his desk. Every now and then, Hope would let out a delighted squeal, drawing the eyes of every student in the room.

By the end of the lesson, as the students began packing up their materials, Severus returned to his desk. Hope was beginning to tire, her little head bobbing slightly as she fought off sleep. Her dark lashes fluttered as she rubbed at her eyes with a chubby fist, and Severus could see that she was losing the battle.

He bent down, lifting her from the playpen and cradling her against his chest. Hope sighed softly, her thumb finding its way into her mouth as she nestled into the warmth of his robes.

The classroom had fallen silent again, the students watching with wide eyes as their stern, no-nonsense professor gently rocked his daughter in his arms. It was a sight none of them would forget—a rare glimpse of a different side of Severus Snape, one they hadn’t known existed.

"Class dismissed," Severus said quietly, his voice softer than usual. The students filed out, casting one last look at the sleeping baby in his arms before leaving the dungeon.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Severus looked down at Hope. She was fast asleep now, her small hand clutching the front of his robes, her breathing slow and even. He stroked her hair gently, his heart swelling with an unfamiliar warmth.

"You’re too much like your mother," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that’s a good thing."

For a moment, standing there in the quiet of the empty classroom, Severus allowed himself to smile. It was a small, fleeting smile, but it was real. And in that moment, with his daughter safe and warm in his arms, the world seemed just a little bit brighter.

With a practiced hand, Severus gathered the lesson plans and potion ingredients, all the while cradling Hope effortlessly in his other arm. It was a strange sensation—this constant awareness of her weight against him, the softness of her small form in his embrace. He hadn’t planned on being a father, hadn’t imagined this life for himself, yet here he was, completely captivated by the little girl who had somehow become the center of his universe.

Gently, he draped his black cloak over her, tucking it around her tiny body to shield her from the chill of the dungeon air. The familiar sweep of his robes trailed behind him as he strode out of the classroom, his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The journey back to his quarters was a quiet one, with only the soft rustling of Hope’s breathing to break the silence.

As Severus neared the entrance to their private quarters, he murmured the password under his breath, and the door swung open with a soft creak. The warmth of the room hit him immediately, a sharp contrast to the cool dungeons. The hearth in the corner flickered with a soft, golden glow, and the scent of herbs—Y/n’s doing, no doubt—permeated the space, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

Y/n was curled up in one of the armchairs near the fireplace, a book in her lap, though she looked as if she’d only just woken up from a long-needed nap. Her hair was tousled, and she wore a loose sweater that made her look even softer and more serene than usual. As the door closed behind him, she looked up, her eyes immediately softening as she saw Severus standing there with Hope in his arms.

A small smile spread across her face, the kind of smile that made his heart stumble in his chest, though he’d never admit it. "There you are," she said quietly, her voice still tinged with the remnants of sleep. "How did it go?"

Severus crossed the room, moving toward the fireplace as Hope stirred slightly, her little head nuzzling further into his robes. He adjusted his hold on her, cradling her with the kind of tenderness that still surprised him, even now. He lowered himself into the chair opposite Y/n, careful not to jostle Hope too much.

“It was… interesting,” Severus replied, his tone dry, though the corners of his lips quirked ever so slightly.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting, hmm? Do tell.”

Severus leaned back in the chair, one hand still resting protectively on Hope’s back as she dozed. “It seems our daughter has a talent for distracting an entire classroom full of students,” he said, his voice laced with a rare trace of amusement. “No matter how much I tried to focus them on their potions, they were more interested in her antics.”

Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “Well, can you blame them? She’s impossible to ignore.” She set her book aside and rose from her chair, moving over to sit on the armrest of Severus’s chair. She gently brushed a lock of dark hair away from Hope’s forehead, her fingers soft and tender as they moved over her daughter's sleeping face. “She’s always been a bit of a scene-stealer.”

Severus glanced down at Hope, watching the steady rise and fall of her tiny chest. He couldn’t argue with that. Hope had a way of drawing attention without even trying, her innocence and joy a sharp contrast to the darker, more complicated world around her.

"She’s just like you,” Severus said quietly, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that he rarely allowed to surface. “She has your light."

Y/n tilted her head, her gaze softening even more as she looked at him. "And she has your strength," she murmured. "Those eyes of hers—they’re yours, Sev. And that determination? That’s all you."

For a long moment, they sat there in the quiet warmth of the room, the fire crackling softly in the background, casting a golden glow over the scene. Y/n’s hand rested on Severus’s shoulder, her touch grounding him, while Hope’s small form was tucked safely against his chest, her warmth seeping into his very bones.

Severus’s gaze drifted to Y/n, taking in the gentle curve of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she looked at him. He had never imagined himself in this kind of life—never imagined that he could feel this kind of peace, this kind of contentment. But somehow, against all odds, it had found him. She had found him.

After a moment, Y/n stood and moved back to her chair, but her eyes lingered on the scene in front of her—Severus Snape, the man who had once been so distant and untouchable, cradling their daughter with all the tenderness in the world. The sight filled her with a quiet sense of joy, one that she had never quite expected, but was grateful for every day.

“So,” she said softly, settling back into her chair, “do you think you’ll bring her to class again?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in something that resembled a smirk. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I’d prefer not to lose control of my classroom every time she decides to babble at them.”

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and musical. “I’m sure they were all enchanted by her. You know she has that effect on people.”

Severus hummed in agreement, his fingers absently tracing small circles on Hope’s back as she shifted slightly in his arms, her tiny hand clutching at his robe. “She certainly does,” he admitted quietly.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the fire crackling softly and casting flickering shadows across the room. Hope remained blissfully unaware of the world around her, tucked securely in her father’s embrace, her tiny breaths filling the space with a sense of peace.

Y/n’s gaze softened as she watched them, her heart swelling with love for the two people who had become her entire world. She reached over, her fingers brushing against Severus’s hand. “You’re a good father, you know,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet sincerity.

Severus didn’t respond immediately, his eyes focused on the sleeping form of his daughter. But after a moment, he squeezed Y/n’s hand gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied, “Only because of you.”

And in that moment, as the fire crackled softly in the hearth and the world outside seemed so far away, Severus Snape allowed himself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he was deserving of the happiness he had found. Because here, in this quiet corner of Hogwarts, with his wife beside him and his daughter safe in his arms, he had everything he had ever wanted but never thought he could have.

[rudyking]

Piercings:

JJ spots your new ear piercings and goes wild for them.

The sun is warm on your skin, the gentle rhythm of the waves a soothing soundtrack to your afternoon. Fine, white sand cushions you as you stretch out on your beach towel, the salty air filling your lungs with a refreshing crispness. You close your eyes, letting the warmth seep into you, chasing away the last remnants of daily stress. This is bliss.

You’d decided on a whim this morning to treat yourself. Work had been relentless, and the city had started to feel oppressive. Escape, your inner voice had urged, and you, always one to listen to your intuition, had packed a bag and headed straight for the coast. It was a weekday, thankfully, so the beach wasn’t overcrowded, just a pleasant scattering of people enjoying the tranquility like you were.

A sudden gust of wind whips through, playfully tugging at your hair, lifting strands from your face. You subconsciously reach up to smooth it back, your fingers grazing the delicate studs in your upper ear, new additions from last week’s impulsive piercing adventure. They’re tiny, barely noticeable, but they feel like a secret rebellion, a whisper of something slightly edgier beneath your usual calm demeanor.

You settle back down, the wind dying down as quickly as it came, when a shadow falls over you. You open your eyes, shielding them against the sudden dimming sun, and there he is.

JJ.

Your breath hitches slightly, a familiar flutter in your chest. He’s leaning over you, a wide, sun-kissed grin stretching across his face, deepening the dimples that you find utterly irresistible. His shaggy blonde hair is tousled by the wind, and his blue eyes are sparkling with an almost mischievous glint. He’s wearing his usual faded black t-shirt, slightly too tight but somehow perfectly him, and board shorts that hang low on his hips. He looks like he’s just stepped out of the ocean, droplets of water still clinging to his eyelashes. Simply put, he looks breathtaking.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, his voice a low, rumbling melody that always manages to send shivers down your spine. He’s not close enough to touch yet, but his presence already feels electric, a warm current drawing you in. His gaze isn't on your face, though. It’s fixed somewhere higher, towards your ear, and you feel a faint flush rising in your cheeks.

“What?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart is doing anything but.

He doesn't answer immediately. He just keeps staring, his grin widening, if that’s even possible. His blue eyes seem to have darkened, intensified, as if he's focused on something incredibly intriguing. The silence stretches for a beat, two, three, and then he lets out a low whistle, a sound that’s part admiration, part pure, unadulterated excitement.

“Piercings,” he breathes, finally looking at you, but his eyes keep flicking back to your ears. “You got piercings. Plural.”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, last week. Just a little something.”

“‘A little something’?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow, humor dancing in his eyes. He drops down onto the sand next to you, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He props himself up on an elbow, turning to face you fully. “Yn,” he says your name like it’s a secret he’s been waiting to share, his voice laced with a playful conspiratorial tone, “you are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

His gaze is still fixed on your ears, but there’s something else there now, something beyond just noticing the piercings. It’s… appreciation. Admiration. And something that feels distinctly like… recognition.

“They’re just piercings, JJ,” you say, though a thrill is already coursing through you at his reaction. You've always been a bit reserved, a bit… predictable, perhaps. JJ, on the other hand, is a whirlwind of impulsive energy, a walking embodiment of carefree rebellion. And for him to notice, to react this way to something you considered a small, personal whim… it’s unexpectedly exhilarating.

“Just piercings?” He chuckles, a low, husky sound that vibrates right through you. He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your jawline, sending a jolt of electricity through your skin. His touch is feather-light, tentative, but it still manages to ignite a fire within you. “Yn, darling, there’s no such thing as ‘just piercings’ when it comes to you.”

His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze captive. The playful teasing is still there, but there’s a depth in his blue eyes now, a smoky intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I knew it,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, but you hear it loud and clear. “I knew there was a little bit of wild in you.”

Your heart thumps harder against your ribs. Wild? You? You’ve always considered yourself the epitome of ‘nice girl.’ Kind, sweet, caring, responsible. Wild was never a word you’d associate with yourself. But looking into JJ’s eyes, seeing the way they are alight with something that borders on… desire? You start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a wildness buried deep inside you, waiting for the right spark to ignite it.

“And you, Mr. Rebellious incarnate, are impressed by a couple of ear piercings?” you tease, trying to keep your voice light, masking the sudden rush of nerves and excitement that’s bubbling within you.

He grins again, wider this time, if possible even more dazzling. “Impressed is an understatement, sweetheart.” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, his breath warm against your ear. “I’m… intrigued. Completely, utterly intrigued.”

He pulls back slightly, but his gaze remains locked on yours. “These little studs,” he says, his eyes flicking back to your piercings again, “they’re like… a secret code. A signal.”

“A signal?” you ask, genuinely curious now.

“Yeah,” he nods, his voice low and conspiratorial. “A signal that you’re not as… innocent and sweet as you pretend to be.” He winks, and your stomach flips. “That you’ve got a little bit of bad girl hidden beneath that kind, gentle exterior.”

Bad girl. The words hang in the air between you, charged with an unexpected current of attraction. It’s ridiculous, of course. Piercings don’t make you a bad girl. But the way JJ is looking at you, the way he’s saying it… it’s making you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. A thrill of excitement, a sense of daring, a spark of… rebellion.

“And you,” you retort, matching his playful tone, “are assuming a lot about me based on a few holes in my ear.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Or maybe, just maybe, I’m just good at reading people. Especially you.” He leans in closer again, his voice dropping even lower, a husky murmur against your skin. “And maybe, just maybe, I’m really, really hoping I’m right.”

His gaze is intense, searching, holding yours captive. The playful banter has faded, replaced by something deeper, something more real. You can see the honesty in his blue eyes, the genuine curiosity, the undeniable… attraction.

And in that moment, something shifts within you. The carefully constructed walls you’ve built around yourself feel a little less solid, a little less impenetrable. There’s a pull towards JJ, a magnetic force that’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

“And what if you are?” you whisper, the question barely audible, lost in the sound of the waves.

He grins, slow and knowing, a flash of pure, unadulterated bad-boy charm. “Then, Yn,” he says, his voice low and husky, “we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

He reaches out again, this time his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your ear, brushing against the cool metal of the studs. The touch sends shivers down your spine, awakening a dormant part of you that you didn’t even know existed. His touch is possessive, yet gentle, a perfect blend of his complex personality.

“Show me, Yn,” he murmurs, his eyes locking with yours, a challenge and an invitation all in one. “Show me that bad girl hiding inside.”

And in that moment, looking into his passionate blue eyes, feeling the heat of his gaze, the electricity of his touch, you know you want to. You want to shed the layers of predictability, to embrace the unexpected, to explore the wildness that JJ so intuitively senses within you.

“Maybe I will,” you whisper back, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, a spark of mischief igniting in your eyes. And as JJ’s gaze deepens, as his hand moves to cup your cheek, drawing you closer, you know this is just the beginning.

[thebatdadnomad]

𝕄𝕠𝕟 𝔸𝕞𝕚

Pairing: Dick Grayson x GN! Reader Summary: Dick was pining, and he was pining hard. He tried to forget his feelings and be the friend you deserved, the friend you wanted him to be, but his heart just wouldn't listen. At all. You were just too damn cute. Tags: Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Confession A/N: Thanks for the likes and reblogs~ I hope you enjoy this part!! <3 Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (end)

2

Dick and your friendship was unlikely but made possible by your shared continued commitment to stopping tragedies.

You liked being an informant enough to continue the gig, which meant Dick saw you – a pretty civilian he otherwise wouldn’t have ever ran into – here and there.

The first time that came to mind was the social hosted to celebrate stopping the war that originally brought you to them. It was an odd event. For one, all the informants and new recruits were invited to what would usually be a smaller affair. For two, considering that most of the team on that case were Titans, and the sheer number of games they had, it was hosted at their base instead of the Watchtower. And for three, it was held on a weekday because of an upcoming storm.

Everyone was still in costume, so it wasn’t as though the informants or new recruits couldn’t attend, it was just Dick hadn’t expected anyone would have the guts to. He especially hadn't predicted that you would be here, nor had he expected that his heart rate would pick up so suddenly at the sight of your legs in those shorts.

But it did and Dick decided to do what he did best and rolled with it, gently patting you on the shoulder, intent on pretending to have nothing but platonic intentions with you who clearly had no interest in him. Especially since he had told himself to forget about you and his feelings the moment he realised that.

"Hi," he greeted.

You jumped, whipping around with an empty cup once you recognised him. Dick’s originally small smile grew wide without his permission.

"Hi. Don't do that please," you smiled right back, quickly pushing his arm away. While you were visibly better rested, you still had that polite stiffness to you. Dick wondered if it would ever go away and then shot down that thought. It wasn’t as though he was planning on being around to see. "You scared me."

"Sorry, sometimes I forget I have light footsteps. My social skills could use a bit of work…"

You huffed. "That’s not true. According to what Wonder Girl said, you're a charmer."

"Oh really?" Dick smirked, unable to control it again.

"Yeah," you easily nodded. "So, I’m looking forward to that. How are you doing?"

"I'm alright. What about you?" Dick continued before you could answer, and dutifully flashed his most charming expression. "How is the gig going?"

You tilted your head in question like a cute baby bird. Oh man. "What, being an informant? It's fine. It's good. Scary, too, but very fulfilling. It feels like I'm actually doing something useful with my life for once so I like it. And! I get to make so many new friends I would have never met," you turned away and looked towards the rowdy group of heroes in the middle of the room with poorly hidden awe. "I don't know if you know this, but your friends have already started to call me an honorary Titan. At least that’s what Captain Fission said.”

"I shouldn’t be surprised," Dick returned even though he was. It's not like the Titans were clique-ish, especially since every member had been excluded from the masses and never wanted to replicate that feeling amongst themselves. But you must've really hit it off with the others tonight for them to be calling you that. Although, thinking back to how he felt in that hallway you first properly met in, Dick wasn't all that surprised.

If he was charming, you were the charm master. Nice. Witty. Endearing. Irrefutably good. And he doubted you even noticed that drew people in.

You shrugged. "I guess we’ve been getting along, so they think about me in that way now. I know this is the second time us two have met," you looked back at him once more, with an expression equally open as it was unsure, and Dick nearly melted into the floor. Reign it in, Grayson, reign it in. "So maybe it's a bit soon to say we're friends, but...”

"No!" He yelled, making you flinch away. Dick laughed it off as best as he could. Fortunately, he was good at this – lying to himself and others  –  because you believed him. "We're friends.”

"...We're friends."

"Mhm. We're frienderoonees."

A small smile appeared on your face. "Great."

There was a beat of silence as the pair of you just looked at each other, and stupid hope and impulse took over.

"But I wouldn't be opposed to being mo—"

"Hey!"

Saved by the amazon.

Donna walked up to you, easily wrapping an arm around you that you didn’t move from. In fact, it only made your smile grow, even if your shoulders had yet to genuinely relax. Dick felt envious in that moment – wondering why when he tapped you you instantly pulled away, but when Donna touched you it was fine – then felt embarrassed by his own pettiness.

"We've set the game up,” she announced.

"Finally!" You exclaimed, breathless.

"It's just cards," Donna turned to inform Dick, playfully nudging him with her free hand. "Hi, by the way."

"Hey."

"But we are going to play Monopoly with Starfire and Cyborg later if you want to join that," you added.

"Oh, yeah," Dick blinked. "Sure."

A memory struck you physically just before you made your way there. "Oh yeah, what were you saying before?”

So, Dick calmly looked from you to an inquisitive Donna before shaking his head.

"Nothing," and followed his friends into the party, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with these useless, uncontrollable feelings a third time.

Naturally, after that night, you proceeded to attend half of the Titans' socials. That was right, half. Because since when did the universe let Dick Grayson catch a break?

The next time he saw you, you still looked awkward and out of place. Like you weren't sure what to do with yourself and Dick took one second to squash down the intense urge to reach over, pull you into him by your waist and whisper words of reassurance into your ears. He firmly reminded himself again that you clearly weren't interested in any level of intimacy with him and that he had to be OK with that. He was OK with that. Relieved even. Getting into a relationship now would just be another weight on his already heavy shoulders.

And then the second passed.

"Here again?” Dick teased once he joined you standing behind a full couch of heroes like Captain Fission all aptly watching Garth and Raven hog their massive TV.

You didn’t seem as surprised as last time, even if you did jump a little. "Unfortunately, I just don't have it in me to reject your team's invites."

He looked your way behind his white lenses. "You can, there's no pressure."

But you shook your head, your expression turned amused. "When the famous Titans invite you to hang out, you say yes. Plus, I've got a Mario Kart tournament to win."

Dick shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do.”

“Hn,” Dick bit his lip when he realised how much he sounded like his dad just then. “So, who’s winning? I bet it’s you.”

“No, it’s Aqu—”

Garth’s voice cut in just as the match finished with him in 1st place and he whipped around to gloat. It was obligatory, Dick didn’t judge him. Especially since... “Did you really think you could beat me at Dolphin Shoals?”

Raven's voice was dry as she replied. “Stop pretending that being an Atlantean had anything to do with getting a blue shell at the last minute.”

“It made Jesus watch over me.”

“You’re not Christian,” Raven insisted.

“Who knows? With my luck today, I might convert.”

“Coming?" You gestured to the gaming area, stifling a laugh. The game had ended and Garth was now asking for some new players. He even went so far as to point your way.

"Yeah, I've got to put you all in your place," Dick mocked, getting a head start to the empty two-seater to the side.

You rushed to sit beside him. "We'll see.”

If Dick let you win despite having beaten every Titan at Mario Kart since he was eleven, you were none the wiser.

The time after that, it seemed like you felt somewhat stable about your place in this group.

"Leader! Mr Leader!"

“One sec!”

Dick had been setting up party decorations for M'gann's surprise birthday party. She loved this Earth tradition with a passion, and when an impromptu mission left her and some of the others off-world, it was the perfect opportunity for a group of them to spice the place up.

Everyone had their own tasks. Dick was on decor duty despite Wally protesting his sense of style, the bastard. After buying snacks, Kaldur and Wally were currently trying to find a DJ booth and a photo booth last minute, and Gar was on baking duty.

Yeah, they had let the inattentive, hyperactive shapeshifter with the taste buds of a lion and a fish bake a cake. Gar was lucky everyone had a soft spot for him; otherwise, it would've never happened and he was even luckier that you had the time to assist him in his endeavour and stay for the party.

“Sir! Mr! Mr Head of the Titans, sir!"

"You know, Nightwing is fine, right?" Dick asked from the top of a ladder, securing another line of fairy lights before flipping high off of it to see you closer. You ignored his theatrics and shoved a spoon in his face.

"You've got to try what Gar made! It's so good!" You then slipped said spoon into his mouth without warning. Dick reached to hold your hand still, half to stop himself from choking and half just because. Your hand immediately darted away at the contact, and he was self-conscious of the way his gloved hand tingled beneath the bewildered face he presented as he chewed.

Dick wasn't blushing, it wasn't something he allowed himself to do when in his Nightwing costume, but today was the first time in a long time that he had gotten so close to breaking his cool. You clearly didn’t notice, though, and instead only cared about what he thought of the too-sweet cake in his mouth, much to his relief.

"It's...edible?" Dick eventually said.

You smirked. "Right? It's so much better than I expected."

"You know why, right?" Dick dramatically whispered, channelling his inner performer.

"No," you leant in, confused. "Why?"

"It’s because you helped him."

“…Maybe,” your smirk turned sickly sweet, and the sight of it made his chest throb.

Then there was the time that Kaldur organised a pool party Dick might have cleared his packed schedule to attend, knowing you would be there. Because if this was going to happen, he might as well embrace his downfall and hope that the act of acceptance would help him forget his affections.

It didn’t.

Usually, Dick was much more subtle, but all he did that day was look at you. He would be engaged in a conversation with one of his friends, avidly paying attention to them, and then he would see you in his peripheral vision dressed in swimwear that seemed designed to make his pulse race and completely check out, only for them to knock some sense into him.

After it happened a third time, Roy quite literally shoved Dick your way because, of course, literally everyone but you had caught onto him by now.

You jolted in your position on a pool ladder as Dick stumbled into you. You had been about to get in the pool again when the collision happened, but he was able to yank you away from falling into the water just in time. Dick would be infuriated with Roy if he wasn’t so excited to be touching your wet, naked skin as he helped steady you.

Rein it in, Grayson, rein it in.

“Sorry,” Dick breathlessly chuckled. “Roy’s being an asshole.”

“As he’s prone to being. It’s fine,” you swiftly pushed him off once you were stable and only then did Dick realise that he had been holding you close even after steadying you.

“So…how’s swimming been?” He tried after a beat.

You easily smiled. “Fun. I’m not the best, but at least I haven’t drowned yet.”

“That’s always good.”

You laughed at his vague answer. “What about you? Having a good time?”

"Yeah! It’s fun, and speaking of fun...where did you find that thing?" Dick asked, subconsciously licking his lips as his eyes subtly drifted down.

"What? My swimwear?” You looked taken aback by the question, but not suspicious, obviously oblivious to him checking you out, thank fuck. “Do you like it?"

"Do I?” Dick smirked. “I mean, you’re gorgeous."

"Flirt," you simply snorted with a raised brow and it was so damn hot, he wanted to take you right there. “The brand is a bit overpriced, but I'll send you a link to their website."

Dick’s mind halted at the words. "Oh no, I meant it looks good because of you."

"But mostly the design, yeah," you brushed him off, strolled over to the benches, wiped down your hands and smoothly pulled out your phone from your bag. "They have some stuff in a blue that kind of looks like Nightwing blue too. So, it’s good you like it. I'll get those links to you now."

Before Dick could say anything else, you decided to teach him about luxury brands he already knew inside and out and recommend him items that Alfred had probably already purchased for the next time Jason, Tim, Steph or Duke randomly dragged him out to their backyard for more ‘target practice’ aka another impromptu water gun fight. But he never let you know that and acted innocently, if only so you would speak to him more.

Because you were a good friend, and he was not.

Your impersonal demeanour had practically disappeared during a social event not long after the pool party.

You were leaning back into a bean bag Vic recently bought for everyone's comfort after a long mission when Dick noticed it. When he saw how relaxed you were as you chatted all of their heads off about what the news was saying about a foreign royal family before and after Dick led the team to save their prince.

You looked so off-edge, so laid back – literally. It was incomparable to the first time you met. Your guard was down, your muscles uncoiled, and you seemed comfortable in your own skin. It was what had attracted him to you so much in the first place, the glimpses of your real personality behind the politeness. Dick wished he could take credit for helping you progress, but he was too busy being surprised by it to try.

Dick thought that this was what he wanted. He had hoped that once you felt like you had a place as a friend of the team, he would be able to squash his feelings for you once and for all and properly accept you as just another one of his friends like the others had already.

Instead, when he noticed you casually leaning into Captain Fission’s shoulder or curiously beeping Vic’s metal arm to the beat of the music playing on the speakers around them, all he could bitterly think was lucky him. Because had it been Dick’s arm, you wouldn’t have touched it.

It was clear that no matter how hard he tried to keep a tight grip on his heart to prevent it from falling whenever you were there, it never worked. All it took was your soft lips smiling or your beautiful eyes curving, and he lost control of it all over again. Every single time. And you were never there to catch him.

It even happened when you weren't pointing your gaze at him. When you slowly teased the stubborn Roy out of his shell, when Wally challenged you to rock paper scissors for the fiftieth time or when Donna convinced you to go to a waterpark with them next time. But Dick couldn’t do anything about it.

You fit right in here hanging out with his friends and him. He couldn’t make a move and ruin this. It wasn’t like you would say yes. Dick didn't want to believe he had no chance, but it was only he you couldn’t stand physical contact with so how could he be wrong? He had no shot. Emotional distance was the natural next step.

Yet Dick couldn’t stop himself from saying hi to you at events, from greeting you with a hug you always pulled away from first, from joking back and forth and letting you win every game they played. No matter how much he wanted to forget you and treat you the same as everyone else, it was becoming clear the longer this went on that you, too, fit into a different spot in his mind. Just for the opposite reason.

Dick was stuck in a stalemate for a while. A long while.

During that time, your shared friends decided that a year as a Justice League and Titans informant was good proof that you could be trusted and beared their secret identities to you. He did the same, revealing himself to be the handsome darling Dick Grayson. The eldest son of Bruce Wayne, whom everyone and their mothers fawned over. But instead of acting any differently around him, you simply asked whether he wanted to order pizza or Chinese food afterwards.

Usually, Dick would be ecstatic to not be treated any differently. It would be a blessing. Especially since you had recently moved to a place in Blüdhaven that sat right next to its Zeta Tube for your safety. Your knowledge of who he was behind the mask could be dangerous.

But this wasn't a usual scenario, and this wasn’t anyone. This was you, and Dick was devastated to know that you didn't find him physically attractive either.

Well, he wasn't certain that you didn't, but it was just the way that you spoke casually to him compared to potential dates that stuck out most. Like when you were at their more exciting meetups in bars or clubs, and he saw your bashful face for the first time. When he watched you play with your fingers and let your eyes linger elsewhere in a way that was beyond innocent.

No matter how much Dick attended those meetups in particular and showed more and more skin, he never felt that hot gaze on himself. He never saw you shy away from him or grip whatever you were drinking because of something he said. Matters were only made worse by the waves of people that approached him during those nights. Because it proved that, no, he wasn't losing his touch, you simply weren't interested.

It was hell.

Dick was stuck feeling like he was in the ‘friend zone’ for the first time in his life and he knew there was nothing he could or even should do to try to get out of it.

Worse than that, it wasn’t often that Dick didn’t understand his own emotions, but with you…it was complicated. It would be unethical to pursue you. No matter what he wanted, Dick was genuinely incredibly busy all the time and he knew dating people in his profession – or in general – never seemed to last for him. His long-term history of on-and-off relationships proved that. And, most importantly, you weren’t interested.

Dick spent many evenings listing the many reasons Dick shouldn’t be into you, and yet he was.

Immensely.

It was only when you were kidnapped a fortnight after the big identity reveal that he finally understood why.

The daughter of a mob boss was furious. Her father had been put away for good after your testimony tipped the judge in their favour, and she had decided to get her ridiculous revenge by snatching you up one night.

It all happened in Blüdhaven, so Dick was the first on the scene with fury thrumming through him and the first to get you out of those degrading ropes and away from the burning curling iron in the vindictive mob boss’ daughter’s hands. Too close, that had been way too close.

He would’ve been the first one here regardless of where it happened because it was you, but Dick found himself relieved this happened in his city and he was able to get there extra early because once he brought you to BPD outside, you fell into his arms with a sob. Into his arms that could hold you close. His arms that you normally pushed away from without a second thought.

It was a shock. You had been completely silent the whole time he had walked you past mob lackeys whom he had already beaten bloody. Dick had been angry as he got you to safety and you had been quiet, but now as tears flowed down your face and onto the blue bird on his Kelvar suit, Dick felt his rage fade and his body swell with a fierce protectiveness he couldn’t tamper.

“Nightwing,” you gasped in relief.

Dick closed his eyes and gently rested his head on top of yours. Trying not to overstep boundaries despite tightening his hold on you. “I’m here.”

“I-I’m sorry, I…”

“Shh,” he gently rubbed your back. “It’s OK, Y/N. I’m right here.”

The protectiveness clouded Dick’s judgment as he kept you in his arms and paramedics tried to check you over. It made him growl at them, unable to smile and be nice and rational as he held onto your scared, trembling body. He had never seen you like this, and he had never wanted to. He would never let anyone else. Not your shared friends and especially not Captain Fission who you seemed to be growing closer to recently.

All this time Dick had resisted touching you because of how quickly you tended to push him alone away compared everyone else, but for this to be the first time you truly embraced one another…it wasn’t exciting, it wasn’t thrilling, it was utterly heart-breaking.

It was the way you fell apart in his hold, and he realised his touch would never mean what yours meant to him. The way he couldn’t comfort you to the extent that you would have been able to comfort him. And the way that he wasn’t the one for you, but you were the one for him.

The moment you were able to gather yourself up and let him go, Dick didn’t protest, because he finally understood.

“I’m OK,” your voice was almost stable as you turned to smile gratefully at him. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

When, at the next social, you went out of your way to greet him with a hug that Dick held onto for a little too long, Dick got why he couldn’t forget his affections. Why he couldn’t move on from you who would never be anything but a friend. 

He wasn’t airborne anymore, he had landed.

Somehow, amid those social events and casual interactions, Dick’s feelings had developed all on their own. He had solidly, inequitably fallen for you. You who took over his mind every time you even breathed near him. You who were the only person that could make him forget the perpetual weight on his shoulders even for a blissful moment. You who had no feelings for him whatsoever.

And now that he knew that, all Dick could do was tell you the truth before things spiralled even further out of control and accept whatever your response would be. Even if it meant the end of this friendship as he knew it.

⇨ Part 3

MASTERLIST

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Derin you had a post a while ago (at least several months ago if not more than a year) where you detailed a calendar system that was extremely well thought out and sounded really practical. Something about the months being segmented so that the days of the week would be predictable (ie the 1st of the month is always a monday or something like that). all the months were the same length i think there was 13 or 14 of them and there were provisions for free days around new years and leap days and all. it was just a fantastic system i saw it and was like i would switch to this calendar system in a heartbeat.

but i cannot for the life of me find the post. i would like to find it. i am trying to work out a schedule for my newly-self employed life and our current common western calendar system is just really stupid in a lot of ways. do you have your derin calendar system to hand or do you know how to find the post. it was so good!! i would like to see it again at least for some inspiration for how to organise my life!! i would really appreciate some help with this <333333 thanks in advance!!!

You might be talking about the Time to Orbit: Unknown calendar, which works thusly:

Six days per week

Five weeks per month, giving 12 30-day months for a total of 360 days

A "thirteenth month" rest period at the end of the year of five days (six for leap years)

The advantages of this calendar should be obvious:

6 day weeks are better than 7 because they can be easily divided by 2 or by 3. There's a lot of things that people do every second or every third day, or that they want to spend half a week doing; 6 days makes for MUCH easier scheduling. Whoever decided the number of days in the week should be a prime number was a fucking idiot.

Even months also, obviously, make for much easier scheduling.

Every month within a year starts on the same weekday. If Jan 1 was a Tuesday, Feb 1 and March 1 will also be Tuesdays. Again, this makes for easier scheduling -- there's a lot of events that take place on "the second Wednesday of each month" and stuff like that, and it's also much easier to remember if the 14th is going to be on a weekend or not if it's the same throughout the whole year.

A 5 or 6 day transitional period at the end of the year makes for a very convenient rest and reset period, a "new year's week" that can be an extended public holiday that fits naturally into the calendar and gives everyone a chance to prepare for a new year. I think the cultural and psychological benefits of having an extended New Year holiday baked into the calendar would be large.

[lurafita]

Alec: "I'm not predictable."

Izzy: "Alec, please, you are the most predictable man on earth." then quickly crosses her arms over her chest and mimics as Alec does the same and says ""No I'm not.""

Alec frowns: "That doesn't proove anything."

Izzy smirks: "I mean just look at your clothes! You still choose your outfit according to the weekday."

Alec: "That's ridiculous."

Izzy: "Oh yeah? Then you wouldn't have any trouble wearing that sweater tomorrow, a tuesday, would you?"

Magnus, just then steps into the room: "Ah, there you two are. Clarissa just announced that she and Jace will be inviting us out for dinner today."

Alec: "Magnus, what do you think of my sweater?"

Magnus, smiles: "Looks just as good on you as it does every monday, Darling."

Izzy: "See?"

Alec, annoyed at his sister, takes off his sweater in a huff: "There! Anything else you don't like about my clothes?"

Magnus, surprised but an opportunist at heart: "To be honest I'm not a big fan of those pants."

Alec's hands move towards his belt, Izzy throws her hands in the air: "I'm outta here."

[sugrhigh]

FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )

summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.

warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo

“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.

“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.

it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.

“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.

“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.

“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.

“gross.”

“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”

“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.

“keep lying.”

you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”

“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.

“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.

“oh for sure.”

he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.

“someone’s confident.” you laugh.

“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”

“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”

“that’s because i’m not trying to.”

for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.

you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.

it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.

“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.

chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”

“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.

a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”

“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.

“no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“i just want to sleep.” you lie.

chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.

you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.

“now you’re just humoring me.”

he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”

you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.

“do i?” you question.

“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”

“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.

“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.

“if you insist.”

you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.

“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.

“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“don’t move like that.”

“i’m not allowed to move now?”

“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.

“oh.”

your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.

“who’s scared now, huh?”

you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.

he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.

you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.

“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.

“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.

you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.

you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.

“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.

“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.

his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.

“fuck.” you gasp quietly.

“no bra, huh? just for me?”

chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.

his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.

just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.

you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.

“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.

his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.

“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.

you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.

you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.

chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.

you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.

he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.

it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.

“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.

he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.

you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.

chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.

“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.

ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.

without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.

“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.

you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.

you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.

“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.

“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.

“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.

“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.

his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.

“spit.”

fuck, this is hot.

you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.

chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.

“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.

he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.

“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.

he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.

“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.

“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”

such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.

he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.

“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.

“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”

his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.

“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”

“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.

his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“i’m—”

“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.

“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.

he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.

“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.

“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.

you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.

“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-Four

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Four: Calla Lily for Beauty

Summary: The Host Club tries to help Misuzu and Mei. (Y/N) and Kyoya are amused.

            “Riding the commuter line?” said (Y/N) as they walked with the rest of the Host Club.

            “Not my idea of summer break, but Tamaki insisted,” sighed Kyoya.

            “And Mei is coming? Not Haruhi?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes,” said Kyoya.

            “Hm. Tamaki doesn’t seem bothered,” said (Y/N). “Is he planning something?”

            “He’s not interested in Mei,” said Kyoya. “This is about Misuzu and Mei, I believe. He’s making sure Mei’s food is what Misuzu used to make. He’s quite a good cook, and Tamaki believes that may help them rekindle their relationship.”

            (Y/N) smiled slightly. “That sounds like Tamaki. I’m curious to know what will happen now. I guess I can go along for this for a while, then.”

            “Even getting embarrassed by our associates on the train?” said Kyoya.

            (Y/N) sighed. “Even that…”

            “Hey, come on, catch up!” said Tamaki, waving his hands. “We have to pick up Mei before going for a ride.”

            “She’s not expecting this,” chuckled (Y/N).

            “No she is not,” said Kyoya.

            “She’s probably expecting you all to prefer the expensive things in life,” said (Y/N).

            Kyoya smirked. “We do. Tamaki likes to explore, though.”

            “You should try spoiling Haruhi and I more,” said (Y/N). They chuckled. “We’ll feel inclined to bring in more clients.”

            “Haruhi has her debt as encouragement,” said Kyoya.

            “Then you should spoil me,” said (Y/N). “You never know when I might get bored.”

            “I highly doubt you’re leaving,” said Kyoya. “You like us too much.”

            “Hm, perhaps I do,” said (Y/N), smiling.

l

            The day of train commuting and visiting shrines went about as (Y/N) and Kyoya had anticipated. Their friends waved at other trains, mimicked the announcements, ate dango, bought talismans from old ladies, and generally brought attention to themselves no matter where they went. Mei was predictably confused and, by the end of the day, exhausted. She had anticipated expensive restaurants, chic boutiques, and spa days, but instead she had gotten the Host Club—and they were lovable but oh-so-energetic (translation: tiring).

            Still, Mei did have fun, if she did get embarrassed and exhausted each day. The zoo proved interesting, karaoke was fun, and markets were more fun with friends.

            However, as the end of summer break approached, Tamaki’s plan had to come together. He was working at Misuzu’s pensione on the weekend and weekday mornings, making sure to learn how to further help Misuzu and Mei connect again. Haruhi had even joined in—a development which pleased (Y/N). Things—feelings—were far from evolving, but things were…progressing. Haruhi’s heart was beginning to feel more than she realized she could. Tamaki’s was as bright as ever. The words were still missing, but their hearts were there.

            The only question was whether or not Tamaki’s plan for Mei and Misuzu would come through. It all came down to Karuizawa once again.

l

            “(Y/N), someone’s at the door,” said their aunt, leaning into their room.

            (Y/N) looked up from The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. “For me?”

            “Yes,” said their aunt, smiling. “It’s one of those boys from that club you’re in. Kyoya, I think?”

            (Y/N) smiled. “He’s here? That’s unexpected.” But nice. They walked to the door of the apartment. “Hi, Kyoya. I didn’t expect you. I thought Tamaki was working on the weekends at the pensione and we got our freedom.” They smiled.

            “Tamaki has been discussing his plans, and there is a summer festival at Haruhi’s local shrine,” said Kyoya. “He wants us to have yukatas ready for the event.”

            “Always in uniform,” chuckled (Y/N). “Okay, I can find something of my aunt’s to wear.”

            “Actually,” said Kyoya. “I was going to offer to get you your own.”

            “What?” said (Y/N).

            “Your own yukata. Tailored to you, your specifications, your measurements, everything,” said Kyoya.

            “…This is unusual. What’s your angle?” said (Y/N).

            His angle? His angle was that (Y/N)’s words earlier about spoiling them had piqued his interest. Yes, he knew they were independent and were teasing, but Kyoya wanted to treat them well. They deserved it. (Y/N) was kind, intelligent, quick-witted, ambitious, and every other good quality. Kyoya loved them. His angle was that they deserved to be treated well by someone who loved them.

            “You deserve it,” was all Kyoya said, gazing at them.

            They were three simple words, yet (Y/N)’s breath caught in their throat. The way he was looking at them made their heartbeat quicken.

            “…Thank you,” said (Y/N) softly.

            “Of course,” said Kyoya. Always.

            “But one rule,” said (Y/N).

            Kyoya tiled his head. “A rule?”

            “I get to surprise you with what it looks like,” said (Y/N), smiling and taking a chance at something akin to flirting.

            Kyoya smiled. “A fair compromise.” He would have something to look forward to, then.

l

            “Kyoya, (Y/N), you made it,” said Honey, smiling. He and Mori already sat inside the pensione at Karuizawa. Unsurprisingly, once all the hosts learned that Haruhi was there with Tamaki, they had begun arriving.

            “Of course,” said Kyoya, sitting down.

            “We’re here to support Haruhi and Tamaki,” said (Y/N). “And, undoubtedly, create the next phase of the plan for Mei and Misuzu.”

            “It’s just Hikaru and Kaoru who are missing,” said Honey.

            “They’ll be here,” said Kyoya. “They called me asking where Haruhi was. They know she and Tamaki are here, and they cannot be left out.”

            “Oh, look, everyone has finally arrived!” exclaimed Misuzu at the door.

            Kyoya and (Y/N) looked up to see Haruhi push Kaoru and Hikaru into the room. Each held a broom and a terrified expression.

            “And here they are,” said (Y/N), smiling in amusement.

            “I’m so happy! I’ll be counting on you!” said Misuzu.

            “Haruhi must have caught them and put them to work,” chuckled (Y/N).

            “So, the new help has arrived,” said Kyoya. He smiled as Hikaru and Kaoru looked over to see all the hosts. “Would you get us another cup of tea?”

            “I’d like cake and more cake!” said Honey.

            Mori nodded hello, and (Y/N) waved.

            “You’re all here?” said Haruhi.

            “We’re here to help,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I don’t see any of them cleaning,” said Haruhi doubtfully.

            “Contributing to sales is also helping out, right?” said Kyoya.

            “Yep!” said Honey.

            “Could you really trust them to properly help out?” said (Y/N), glancing at them with great amusement.

            Haruhi groaned as she recalled all the mishaps with Tamaki over the last few days. “No.”

            “Everyone’s here?!” Tamaki appeared at the top of the stairs and bounded down with a grin. “Great! I need to talk to you all, and fate has brought us together! We will now use our work break hold a Host club meeting, Karuizawa-style!”

            “What’s this meeting for? No one’s told us anything,” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            “It’s for the Mei and Misuzu Reconciliation Plan, of course,” said Tamaki proudly. “I apologize for my clandestine behavior, but I couldn’t risk Mei diving our intent. However, from now on, I need everyone’s help. Okay? Stage One consists of delivering Misuzu’s love to Mei through his recipes. We’re achieving excellent results due to the magnificent teamwork by Haruhi and me. Mei might not have consciously realized it, but on a spiritual level, she is definitely missing his cooking. Right, Haruhi?”

            “Well, I don’t know about spiritual levels…” Haruhi smiled softly. “But it’s clear that Mei doesn’t really hate him. At first I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t understand how she felt, but then I noticed how she reacted to the food I made using Misuzu’s recipes.”

            “Then the results aren’t due to the Boss’s plan—they’re due to Haruhi’s culinary expertise,” said Hikaru.

            “And now that Stage One has melted the ice around Mei’s heart, it’s time for Stage Two,” said Tamaki, proud despite Hikaru’s words. “In Stage Two, Kyoya will play the part of a lowlife and attack Mei. Then Misuzu will save her!”

            “Idiot! Is that your solution to everything?” said Kyoya.

            “I think you’d play the role well,” said (Y/N) “innocently.” Kyoya gave them a look, and they chuckled.

            “Don’t call me an idiot! I want to try the lowlife plan!” pouted Tamaki.

            “Then how about ‘mentally deficient?’ ” said Kyoya.

            “Incompetent is a good word,” offered (Y/N).

            “But Tama-chan, where would we do that?” asked Honey.

            “Great question, Honey! Next week, Haruhi’s neighborhood is having a summer festival at the local shrine,” said Tamaki excitedly. “Misuzu said he took Mei to that festival when she was two years old. It’s a place full of memories for her!”

            “She won’t remember if she was two,” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            “I told you, we’re reaching her on a spiritual level!” said Tamaki.

            “Wouldn’t it be better to remind her of good memories instead of trying to scare her?” said (Y/N), a voice of reason as usual.

            “No, we must melt the ice around her heart!” said Tamaki.

            “Spiritual levels, souls…You’re just leaving it up to fate, Boss,” said Kaoru.

            “Are you going to dress up as a lowlife, Kyoya?” said Hikaru. “We’ll be your stylists!”

            “Not I,” said Kyoya.

            “What a pity,” sighed (Y/N), shaking their head in fake disappointment.

            Kyoya ignored them and the temptation to smile. “As the saying goes, we need the right person for the right job. Surely someone is better for the part.”

            Everyone blinked at him. They looked back at Mori. Nervously, Mori raised his hands.

            “N-Not me,” he said.

            “Oh,” said (Y/N), straightening. “I know.”

l

            “Haruhi looks so cute in her yukata!” exclaimed Tamaki with a blush as he saw her and Mei appear at the festival.

            “Super cute!” agreed Honey.

            “This place is really bustling,” said Kaoru.

            “I smell the food of the commoners. I want yakisoba!” said Hikaru.

            “Do they have cake here?” asked Honey.

            “Probably not,” said Kyoya, distracted as he looked around for (Y/N).

            “They’ll be here soon,” said Honey, noticing his distraction. There was only one person who would cause Kyoya to look around like that.

            “Sorry I’m late!” (Y/N) hurried up through the stalls. “My aunt insisted on doing my hair, and it took longer than expected.”

            Kyoya turned to look at (Y/N), and his breath caught.

            They wore a green yukata with a cream obi. There was a pattern of white calla lilies across the sleeves and bottom of the yukata. Their hair was pinned up with white flower barrettes, and they smiled as they looked at Kyoya. He started when he realized they had makeup on to redden their cheeks and darken their lips.

            Simply put, (Y/N) looked classically beautiful. Kyoya couldn’t stop looking at them in the fairy lights of the festival, the golden glow highlighting each of their features.

            “You look so nice, (Y/N),” said Honey, smiling. Mori nodded.

            “Super cute!” said Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki.

            (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you.” They glanced at Kyoya surreptitiously. They wanted to see his reaction. Hopefully he liked how they looked…After all, (Y/N) had a solid self-esteem, but they wouldn’t mind getting a compliment from the boy they loved.

            “You look lovely, (Y/N),” said Kyoya softly.

            (Y/N)’s smile widened. Their heart thumped. “Thank you, Kyoya. You look very handsome yourself.”

            Kyoya was always put-together. He had to be. Yet when they complimented him, he felt suddenly prouder of himself. He really loved them, didn’t he?

            “Hi, guys,” said Haruhi, walking up to the ground.

            Instantly, Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki, Honey, and (Y/N) grinned at her. “You look so cute!”

            “Ack!” Haruhi batted them away as they cooed over her adorable appearance.

            “Hey!” An irk mark appeared on Mei’s forehead. “I’m wearing a yukata, too!”

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Mei!” said Tamaki, smiling. “The floral pattern of your yukata sets your tan. You’re like a tropical princess. Would you allow me to be your escort this evening, princess?”

            “Okay! That’s enough! You’re embarrassing me!” said Mei hurriedly.

            “Kyoya, (Y/N),” whispered Haruhi. “Where’s Misuzu?”

            “Further observation is necessary before putting the plan in motion,” said Kyoya.

            “Misuzu is waiting near the back gate,” said (Y/N).

            “The operation launches on our signal,” said Kyoya. “Many of my undercover staff are in the crowd, and I talked to the organizers so there won’t be trouble if things get a little rowdy.”

            “Does it have to be such a big deal?” said Haruhi.

            “Kyoya is enjoying himself!” said Kaoru and Hikaru.

            “He hasn’t played a big role in a while, so he’s probably happy,” said Honey. “A bit of focus on his story would be good after so much Tamaki.”

            “What does that mean?” asked (Y/N).

            “Nothing,” chirped Honey.

            “Things are going nicely. The rest is up to Bossanova, now,” said Kyoya. “It was the right decision to ask him to help.”

            “We might as well put his tough appearance to use,” remarked (Y/N).

            “So we just wait?” said Haruhi.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Haruhi, lets get some cotton candy!” said Honey.

            “No, Honey, yakisoba first!” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            “Look, Haruhi! They have candied apples!” said Tamaki. “Here, I bought you one.”

            “Oh, thanks,” said Haruhi, took it.

            “There’s a shooting game. Should we try it?” said Tamaki excitedly.

            “I’ll pass. There aren’t any prizes I want.”

            “Don’t be like that, it’ll be a good experience!”

            “Haruhi! They’re playing taiko drums over there!” said Kaoru and Hikaru. “Let’s go see.”

            “Ah, okay,” said Haruhi, knowing the plan did have to go through.

            “Hey, listen,” whispered Mei to her. “I’m gonna go off with Tamaki. Thanks.”

            “Huh?” said Haruhi, but Mei was already moving.

            “Hey, Tamaki, I want one of those yo-yos over there,” said Mei.

            “Which one?” said Tamaki.

            Mei pulled him towards another game, separating them from the Host Club.

            “What about the plan?” said Haruhi. She frowned, and (Y/N) raised a brow. They doubted it was just the worry for the “plan” that caused her to look at Tamaki and Mei together like that.

            “Don’t worry. We won’t lose her,” said Kyoya. “For an altercation, two guys will be better than one. And using Tamaki will give us a better chance at success with Mei.”

            “So now we just…wait?” said Haruhi.

            “Exactly,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “There’s the signal,” said Kyoya.

            Tamaki had turned around and begun to flail his arms at them with a strange expression on his face.

            “Master Kyoya, the operation stars at Point C-3,” said one of Kyoya’s guards over the phone.

            “Roger. Misuzu, you’re up,” said Kyoya.

            Misuzu, dressed as a man for the first time since (Y/N) met him (which weirded them out, to be honest), nodded nervously. “Okay!”

            “H-Hey you scum-heads!” said Bossanova, walking up to Mei and Tamaki.

            Maybe we should’ve told him to just glare. Scum-head wasn’t much of an insult.

            “Quit hogging the goldfish scoop!” said Bossanova. “Little kids are waiting to play.”

            “Master, that sounds too nice,” whispered Tetsuya.

            “Maybe I should teach you a lesson,” declared Bossanova.

            Mei turned around and glared. The ferocity of the gaze made Tetsuya, Bossanova, and Tamaki jump.

            “What do you want?” snapped Mei, unafraid of confrontation. “I’m in a very bad mood! Can’t paying customers use the goldfish scoop? And what’s with that awful haircut?”

            An attack on all fronts, thought (Y/N).

            “Uh? I didn’t—” Bossanova floundered.

            “H-Hey! What are you doing to my daughter?” Poor, frightened Misuzu stepped in finally.

            “What are you doing yourself, girly-man?” said Mei, glaring at him.

            Oh, dear, thought everyone.

            “I-I heard a street thug was threatening you, s-so I…” Misuzu trailed off.

            “Huh? I can take care of myself,” scoffed Mei.

            “I thought you’d prefer a manly father,” said Misuzu.

            “Huh?!” Mei glared at him. “What are you blathering about? If you could’ve changed this easily, there’d have been no need for the divorce! Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been? You chose to live this way and left me behind!”

            “Mei,” said Misuzu softly.

            “So live your life to the fullest!” said Mei. “Only then I’ll accept you as whatever you are.”

            Misuzu’s eyes widened, and he smiled slightly. “Mei…”

            “I’m outta here,” said Mei, waving a hand. She paused. “Next time, though…be sure to send me your cherry jam. Don’t forget. It’s one of my favorites.”

            “Is this a success or not, I wonder?” said Kyoya, watching her grab Haruhi and walk away.

            “She told Misuzu how she feels. She misses him, but until Misuzu is also living without regrets and until she feels close to him as he is now, then they won’t move forward,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Complicated feelings take time. It’s rare that they are simple.” They looked at Kyoya as the lights twinkled around them. “And love is the most complex of all.” How long had love crept up within their heart before they realized what it was? It was truly powerful.

            “I disagree.” Kyoya looked back at (Y/N), at the warmth shining on their face, at the softness of their smile, at their shining eyes. “Love is quite simple.” He loved (Y/N). It felt as natural as the sun rising in the east each morning. He took (Y/N)’s hand in his. “It is quite simple indeed.” He raised their hand and kissed the back as he gazed at their eyes.

            “Kyoya?” said (Y/N), their heart pounding against their chest.

            “(Y/N), love is simple. I know it because I—”

            “(Y/N), Kyoya, come on, it’s time to play games!” said Tamaki from further down the aisle.

            The peace around (Y/N) and Kyoya broke as they both looked at him. Tamaki looked at them, down at their hands, and then back at them awkwardly.

            “Tama-chan, you’re an idiot,” said Honey, sighing.

            “Tamaki…” An irk mark appeared on Kyoya’s forehead.

            “…Kyoya, the shooting game is for targets…” said Tamaki nervously as Kyoya picked up a toy gun.

            “I see a target on your forehead,” said Kyoya, smiling unpleasantly.

            Tamaki yelped and ran for his life as Kyoya aimed and fired. The other hosts watched with smiles and laughs. (Y/N) touched the back of their hand where Kyoya had kissed them. Their hands raised to their still-beating heart. Their heart thudded thunderously.

            What was he going to say? (Y/N) wouldn’t dare voice the possibility of what they wanted so dearly. Oh, but how they wanted to.

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