#I did Every golden egg in that background

[mintytrifecta]

All That Glitters

[bloodylullaby]

Author's Note: It's been a while since I wrote Smut, so I am a little rusty.

Parings: Noah Sevastian x Reader

Word Count: 1739

Warnings: 18+: heavy making out, sex

MasterList

Today marks your and Noah’s four-year anniversary, and boy, did he go all out. As a man with golden retriever energy, his love language is giving, and he certainly showed it today. From the minute you woke up, he was pampering you. Your day started with brunch in bed; Noah served you your favorite breakfast foods along with his version of bottomless mimosas. The tray was filled with freshly baked pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and a small fruit platter that looked like it belonged in a magazine. He refilled your glass with a smile, ensuring you had everything. Every detail, from the freshly squeezed orange juice to the perfectly chilled champagne, was meticulously prepared to make you feel cherished and adored. As you enjoyed the delicious meal, he sat beside you, his eyes shining with joy and affection, soaking in every moment of your happiness. This was just the beginning of a day filled with love and surprises.

After your giant breakfast, he hurried you into the shower, where he joined you. The warm water cascaded over both of you as he gently helped you wash your hair, his fingers working through the strands tenderly. He gave you a scalp massage that felt like a full-body experience, his hands skillfully kneading away any tension. Every touch was deliberate, ensuring no part of you was left untouched or unworshipped. He moved with loving precision, his hands gliding over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and relaxation. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the soothing rhythm of the water, made you feel cherished and adored. This was more than just a shower; it was an act of love, a celebration of your bond.

After begrudgingly leaving the shower, you both got dressed for a day full of fun and laughter. He took you everywhere, and anywhere you wanted to go. Your first stop was a romantic trip to the aquarium, where you marveled at your favorite sea animals. The gentle swaying of the jellyfish, the otters' playful antics, and the sharks' majestic glide captivated both of you, filling your hearts with wonder. 

Next, you had a picnic lunch in the botanical gardens, surrounded by your favorite flowers. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming roses, and the vibrant colors of the garden created a picturesque backdrop. You sat on a cozy blanket, enjoying the delicious food Noah had packed, from sandwiches to fresh fruit and homemade baked goods. Laughter and conversation flowed easily, making the moment feel magical.

The day's final stop was a pottery place, where you got to pick pieces to glaze together. You opted for a mug, imagining cozy mornings sipping coffee, while Noah chose a dog bowl for your puppy. As you both carefully applied the glaze, you couldn't help but giggle at the splatters of paint and the creative designs you came up with. The experience was fun and intimate, a perfect ending to an incredible day. 

Once you got home from your long but fun day, you found a little black dress on the bed. “Put it on,” he gently said with a smile. As you slipped into the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric against your skin, Noah quickly dressed up alongside you. He looked dashing in his suit, his eyes twinkling with excitement. Hand in hand, he led you to the nicest restaurant in town. The ambiance was perfect, with soft lighting, elegant decor, and the gentle hum of live music in the background. The host greeted you warmly and escorted you to a private table adorned with candles and fresh flowers. The evening unfolded like a dream, with exquisite dishes, fine wine, and heartfelt conversation.

As the night progressed, you both eventually made your way back home. Noah sat on the bed, looking more beautiful than ever. After all the effort he put into making today so unique, you wanted to do something special for him. You start to make your way over to him seductively, ensuring every move catches his eye. His gaze follows your every step, filled with anticipation and admiration.  As you finally reach him, you straddle him and feel the warmth of his body beneath you. You lean in and give him a kiss filled with pure passion and hunger, your lips melding together in a fiery dance. Running your fingers down his arm, your hands interlock, creating a connection that sends shivers down your spine.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his ear. He gently moans, a sound that stirs a deep hunger within you. You continue to kiss him, your lips trailing down to his neck, tasting the salt of his skin as his heartbeat quickens. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths as you both lose yourselves in the moment. Noah's hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you. 

The room fades away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. Your whispered promises and his soft responses create a symphony of desire, filling the space between you with a palpable energy. You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes, seeing the same hunger reflected in them. "Let me take care of you tonight," you murmur, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. His eyes close as he leans into your touch, a contented smile on his lips. 

You guide Noah’s hands to the zipper on the back of your dress, encouraging him to undress you. He takes the opportunity to tease you, his fingers lingering at the zipper before slowly, tantalizingly undoing it. Each inch the zipper descends feels like an eternity, heightening your anticipation and driving you wild. He peppers your neck with soft kisses and gentle nips, his breath warm against your skin as he continues. The combination of his deliberate touch and the sensual assault on your neck sends shivers down your spine, making your pulse race. His hands glide over your exposed skin as the dress loosens, adding to the electric charge between you.

It was your turn to undress him. Slowly, you unbuttoned his shirt, your fingers lingering on each button, grazing his skin with every movement. His breath hitched with each touch, his eyes locked onto yours with anticipation. You slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and trailed your fingers down his chest, planting soft kisses along the way. You savored the moment, enjoying how his body responded to your touch. As you reached his belt, you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, taking your time to undo it and then sliding his pants down. Once the both of you were entirely naked, you both locked lips again. 

With one hand traveling down between your thighs, Noah put his other hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down so he could kiss you deeply. Despite the intensity of his kiss, you could barely concentrate as his fingers continued to move with delicate and expert precision on your clit. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it hard to focus on anything else but the overwhelming ecstasy building within you. Noah's touch was both tender and skillful, his every movement sending you closer and closer to the edge of bliss. With each stroke, each caress, he brought you higher until you were teetering on the brink of release, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his touch and the passion of his kiss.

You pulled back a little to look into his eyes. “Lay back,” you said. Noah complied, propping himself up on the pillows. As you climbed back on top of him, you positioned yourself at his entrance. With slow, deliberate movements, you began to sink down onto him, feeling the exquisite sensation of being filled. As your bodies joined, you both moaned in unison, the shared pleasure amplifying the intimacy of the moment. He placed both hands on your hips, guiding your movements as you rocked back and forth, each motion sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The sensation of his touch, combined with the rhythmic friction between your bodies, heightened the connection between you, deepening the intimacy of your lovemaking.

The more you continued, the harder it was for him to sit back. Sensing his increasing urgency, he changed tactics and pulled you closer to him, his grip firm yet tender. You felt him slightly lifting off the bed, his hips rocking back and forth in a synchronized rhythm with yours. The new angle intensified the sensations coursing through your bodies, heightening the pleasure and deepening your connection. Lost in the moment, you moved together in perfect harmony, each movement bringing you closer to the peak of ecstasy.

He changed positions swiftly yet gently, flipping you onto your back. He positioned your legs on his shoulders with precision and care, creating a new angle. You gazed up at him, feeling a rush of anticipation and desire as he leaned in closer, his eyes locked with yours. In this new position, every touch and every movement sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fiery passion between you.

In the heat of passion, you and Noah lose yourselves in the rhythm of your affectionate intimacy. With each thrust and caress, your connection deepens, as if every touch speaks volumes of unspoken words. The room fills with the sound of your shared moans and the symphony of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. As the intensity builds, you feel yourselves teetering on the edge of ecstasy, on the brink of release. Noah's movements become more urgent, his touch more vibrant, as he strives to bring you both to the highest level of satisfaction. And then, with a shared gasp and a final surge of passion, you both reach the peak, exploding in a cascade of blissful release.

Breathless and spent, you collapse into each other's arms, your hearts racing synchronously. In the quiet aftermath, you bask in the warmth of your shared intimacy. As you lay there, entwined in each other's embrace, you know that this moment will be a testament to the depth of your love and the beauty of your connection. Nuzzling closer to Noah, you drift into a peaceful slumber, eagerly anticipating the next four years' adventures.

[thefirstknife]

I have not played since The Traveler left and Rasputin died. WHAT is GOING ON in there? THere's pyramids, Eris is a Hive god, Xivu Arath is dead(??? unsure), there's a. A Veil in the Traveler? ??????????????????????

Oh dear, welcome back! I highly recommend checking Destiny Lore Vault for playlists for the campaign, post-campaign quests and seasonal stories (Defiance, Deep, Witch, Wish)!

Speedrun cliffnotes:

Lightfall! Witness found something called the Veil on Neomuna. The Veil is to the Darkness what the Traveler is to the Light; a paracausal entity that controls aspects of it. We also knew about it because Osiris had a vision of it and Rasputin confirmed that! We go to Neptune where we find Neomuna and Cloud Striders, a civilisation that escaped the Collapse. The Witness tricks us into getting near the Veil and uses our Ghost to create a link between the Veil and the Traveler which opens a big portal on the Traveler. The Witness goes through and has been missing since. This whole year was dedicated to figuring out how to follow it into the Traveler!

Defiance! The Witness left its fleet to attack Earth, we defend the Earth from its forces. Mara and the Awoken help us, Crow and Mara begin their reconciliation, Amanda dies sacrificing herself to save civilians.

Deep! Titan returns from the anomaly! We've been told previously that we have to go there because an "enemy of the Witness" lives there; the enemy is a proto-worm Ahsa who fled the Fundament and settled on Titan back in the Golden Age. Ahsa helped Sloane survive on Titan. The two of them team up to help us against Xivu Arath and to figure out the portal. Ahsa tells us that Savathun knows how to get into the portal which means we have to rez her.

Witch! We meet up with Immaru who tells us that Sav left instructions for this exact situation; she will only tell us about the portal if we "deal with" Xivu Arath. Eris embraces her Hive side and bonds with Ahsa, to become a temporary Hive God of Vengeance. She collects tithes from us, the Guardians, and becomes super powerful. Once she's ready to face Xivu, we rez Savathun and Eris kills her, scooping up all of Sav's power on top of our tithes and becomes the most powerful Hive god briefly. She uses that power to cut off Xivu Arath from her throne world; Xivu is now mortal. Eris releases her power and returns to normal, rejecting the Sword Logic and laughing in the face of every Hive ever. Savathun honors her deal and tells us that she already showed us how to get through the portal, then she strikes another deal; she is to be free, but we keep Immaru so if she does anything we don't like, we can crush him. Savathun's answer is hidden in the pattern of her wings - it's the 15th wish. The 15th wish is to get one person through the portal. We need an ahamkara!

Wish! Mara and the techeuns conjure Riven's spirit through her cleansed heart; ahamkara persist after death! Riven tells us she will grant the wish only if we help save her remaining uncorrupted eggs because she wants her children and her species to go on. We agree to this and spend weeks saving her eggs which were scattered through the ley lines to protect them (this was done by Riven's mate, Taranis, a kind and benevolent ahamkara). We fight the Sol Divisive Vex for these eggs, who are doing incomprehensible things as Vex do, and when we succeed, Riven grants the wish. Crow is the one to go through the portal because he and Mara share a bond and through that bond, Osiris and Mara figure they can use the Veil just like the Witness did and forge a connection that will open the portal for the rest of us. We're currently waiting for the final mission of Season of the Wish which will likely conclude by showing us that Crow made it and that the portal is opening.

That's the shortest I could get! Definitely recommend checking out DLV and all the stuff because there's A LOT going on and there's a lot of stuff also happening in the background, especially in dungeons, and with everything that appears to be hinting at post-TFS content. There's also a lot of stuff with the Veil and the nature of Light and Darkness, mostly in LF campaign and Parting the Veil quest from post-campaign; some incredibly cool reveals and information going on.

I'll be happy to answer any further questions, if anything interests you more than other stuff, but also feel free to dive into the content yourself! And as usual, Ishtar Collective will help as well, with all the lore books and lore tabs.

We're currently in the free update, Into the Light, which focuses on the continued attack of the Pyramids on Earth, something that appears to be a last ditch effort of the Witness' forces to prevent us from following it to the portal.

[hurricane-heatt]

for the trope mash up, may i request summer camp au + accidentally married + martian? :P

hello!!!! you’ll have to forgive me for both the time this took and the brief accidentally married bit but it made it in there and it’s sweet i think!!!! i hope u like it :)

seb and mark as camp leaders! they both have their own group of about ten kids and their groups go together on adventure walks in the mornings (an hour for the kids to get all their energy out and then do nice quiet things in the afternoon). the groups joining together is not by choice.

it’s a problem because the two group leaders bicker. a lot. the camp is very underfunded so a lot of the equipment is missing and/or on its last legs. they mostly argue about silly things like Well you had the stove last night so can my kids have it tonight? But we’re toasting marshmallows! You toasted marshmallows last night!!!! no one seems to think why don’t we just collaborate and share a stove. (one of the other camp leaders will sigh and push their own stove towards whoever’s moaning abt it)

they are also deeply competitive on behalf of their camps. children are children and love games and winning and beating each other and seb and mark sort of might maybe use this as an excuse to wind each other up. the whole ethos of the campus is Be Kind Everyone’s a Winner Teamwork all that rubbish. seb and mark, upon hearing there’s a egg and spoon race across the wider camp, are strategically planning who is best suited to compete for their team.

it always comes down to Webber vs Vettel and the kids love it because children are desperate to shout and cheer at anything that moves, especially when the thing moving is their friends and in the background their camp leaders are elbowing each other when one wins and the other loses

anyway. one day they’ve gone on an adventure walk. afterwards one of the kids comes and taps mark and has a very sad little look on her face. she’s lost her camp backpack and it had all of her stuff in it (the way kids bring every item they own everywhere). she’s all teary eyed and nervous and so mark says don’t worry, i’ll go and look for it. can’t have sprouted legs and walked off!

but then mark realises the girl is from seb’s group. so he goes and tells seb and he’s like Oh we’d better go look for it. mark is like Um. We? seb shrugs. says Well she told you so. You have to come with me. It’s only fair actually. Anyway, two sets of eyes are better than one!

(lots of flimsy excuses to spend time with mark, who he’s had a little bit of a crush on since seb started working here last summer, that’s irrelevant, though.)

cue plenty of huffing. but off they go! into the woods! they follow the same trail they did in the morning, up the hill, through the twisty trees, as they’re colloquially named for the way they wrap around both the sky and themselves, the huge and constantly muddy puddle on a concrete path that the kids delighted in getting their boots in.

and it’s a nice day so maybe they take a little longer on the way, while also peering around bushes in case any passersby have been kind enough to drop the backpack in for safekeeping.

maybe seb takes a little longer in the dirt, checking behind trees because when he turns around mark’s got one hand on his hips, squinting into the sun with the other hand covering his eyes and he’s actually really toned and his arms are very nice. he’s noticed before obviously. how could he not. he’s just a guy. but this is different, especially when mark turns to look at him and seb feels particularly caught out when he grins knowingly. Shut up. Keep walking.

and maybe mark lingers a bit behind seb as he runs ahead thinking he sees a glimpse of red on a fence post. maybe he watches because seb’s hair turns golden in the light like a halo and it’s very beautiful. like art, mark thinks, and he wishes he had a camera. or maybe he can keep it all to himself in his memory

seb turns back around when he sees it isn’t the backpack, just a bit of a torn fabric from a tent, and mark sighs but they’re nearly at the end of the trail (a big loop around the campsite) so Surely it must be ahead!

the last part of the walk is always the children’s favourite, a big hill leading into a sunken in field, a valley of sorts. there’s a footpath worn out by adventurers over the years but they all, everytime, get on their stomachs and roll down on the grassy part, tufts sticking to their shirts as they land at the bottom, giggling. seb looks as if he’s itching to recreate it but they carry on down the grown up route.

something catches their eye in the middle of the field, and there sits a bright red backpack, looking very lost. they run towards it as if it’s some precious artefact and they cheer and hug each other and then laugh it off nervously. because they’re stupid.

the running wore them out, though, so they sit on the grass. the kids are fine with the other camp leaders, probably being better behaved than they do for mark and seb themselves, so they’ll take a break. seb notices (after he stops looking at mark who’s leant back on his forearms and looking sweaty and handsome) that there’s little braided stems littered in the grass.

Oh, she must’ve got distracted when making the daisy chains! Easy to do, replies mark with a smile, eyes shut as he soaks up the sun

seb picks one chain up, inspects the way they’re intricately laced into one another, finds some half finished ones too. he gets to work piercing a hole through the stem with his nail, threading it through, over and over until it fits neatly on his wrist. flimsy and delicate but he grins and shows it to mark

mark will smile and say, Can I have one? and seb would say Make one yourself you lazy arse, and then mark would pull himself upright and scramble to launch at seb, who laughs loud and bold like it’s so easy to do. he fights because because he’s no quitter and the smell of grass and the sun beating down on them mixes in their lungs and Oh, look, you’ve snapped it!

seb frowns but stops when he realises he’s now on top of mark, was pinning his wrists to the dirt when he notices his bracelet has broken and fallen off. mark doesn’t say a word, just breathes and looks straight up at seb. they both breathe like that for a while, seb in two minds, a dozen fleeting thoughts while mark looks so calm. how can this be so easy? how can it be so hard?

Pull me up, then. Sure, sorry. S’alright. I’ll make you another bracelet.

so then they sit quietly against each other, knees touching, and occasionally mark let’s out an exasperated sigh as he splits the stem (big hands, clumsy) but eventually there’s a semblance of a bracelet for the both of them. they gather up some of the smaller rings too, to bring them back for the kids. finally, seb hoists the little red backpack over one shoulder, and they make their way back to the camp

it’s late afternoon so they’re getting ready for dinner around the fire, and some of the kids are comforting the little girl who lost her backpack. It’ll be okay! They’ll find it! Mark found my hat, remember! Yeah, and Seb found my pencil case!

when seb and mark return it’s as if they’ve brought home a golden trophy. the girl hugs seb’s knees and they both scruff her hair and say Be careful next time!

the kids crowd around them, hailed as heroes, and one points to their arms and gasps, turning to their friend and giggling. then they’re all in fits of laughter.

What’s so funny? says seb, putting a chain that’s far too long on his hair. everyone keeps laughing and mark looks at him like he’s an angel, with his crown of daisies atop his head. You’re married now! says one of the little boys, and he smacks his hand over his mouth as if he spoke without thinking.

How does that work, then! mark laughs but doesn’t look at sebastian, who’s looking at him with pink cheeks and a wide smile. Because you both have the bracelets on! It’s fairy magic, it means you’re married forever! one girl chimes in, her tone of voice as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I can’t be stuck with him forever! and all the children cackle with laughter and run back to their seats around the campfire as dinner is called, plastic plates on their laps.

and they both should go and help serve the food but instead they just stand there for a little while, watching the flames dance in the pit.

and then maybe mark slips his hand into sebastian’s, just gently, the daisy chains sliding against one another. and seb squeezes, once, and doesn’t let go. like it’s easy.

[polyhexian]

I was just thinking about Lazulas and how funny it is that she's, like, not a super important character, she's there if the plot needs her but otherwise she's just kinda in the background, and yet she somehow manages to get butterfly effected in every universe. Every AU gives her a completely different fate.

Like in Agony we're told that she retired (after having a probably-Kikimora-induced nervous breakdown) and funnily enough that's the kindest fate we've seen for her so far.

In MH she gets eaten by Hooty.

In eventually she…was gonna get petrified for some reason?? Unclear if they succeeded since the CATTs interrupted the petrification ceremony, but like, what did she DO that Belos decided to petrify her? What the heck led up to THAT?

I think those're the only 3 post-Jabberwocky stories she's been mentioned in so far, but those're 3 wildly different ends so I think that's neat. You should make Lazulas's fate an easter egg in every fic lol. Insert a mention of it in the most wildly coincidental way possible.

God you are SO right. Like I wanna be clear that I DO actually know the series of events leading up to each outcome and how the butterfly effect of Jasper's different outcomes caused them lmfao

In agony, kikimora wanted her job and caused her nervous breakdown. Obviously we saw what happened in MH. In runaway without jasper or s golden guard without jasper or a golden guard in training Lazulas took over his responsibilities, whereas normally that falls to Lilith so that she can train hunter to do them. Kikimora got her job without having to do away with her for it, but unfortunately that meant that Lazulas was a little more obsessed with her own power, and thus kikimora couldn't get her out of her position without killing her. Only she got caught, which is why she's a fugitive. And then finally in eventually, because of jaspers early and open rebellion it led to Raine forming the CATTs earlier and more formally, which means a LOT more shit for the emperors coven to deal with. With Lilith dealing a lot with hunter that made Lazulas feel frustrated because she felt like she was doing the work of a coven head without the credit, so she took a note out of kikimoras book and tried to kill lilith. And thus, public execution.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Cookies - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1065

Summary: Reader teaches Tyler how to bake her signature cookies

Tyler Joseph loved eating cookies. And I loved making them. I’d made my brown butter chocolate cookies for him and Josh every week since we met. Except this time was different, because this was the first time Tyler and I were living together in our own house. And this time I was teaching Tyler how to make them himself. 

“Shouldn’t we be using a recipe?” He asked, grabbing out the ingredients as I called them out. I’d made these cookies more than 10 times, I knew the recipe by memory. 

“I’ve got it Ty, it should be fine,” I said, grabbing out measuring cups, bowls, and a pot to brown the butter. I measured out the butter before placing it on the stovetop to brown. 

“And what’s this supposed to do?” Tyler asked, standing behind me and looking over my shoulder. I could feel his breath on my neck and I smiled to myself, happy he was actually interested. 

“Browning butter makes it have this nutty flavor that makes the cookies taste so good. It’s hard to not burn it though so that’s why I’m doing it for you.” I continued to stir the butter until it foamed up, started to smell nutty, and was a golden brown color. Tyler’s eyes widened as I moved the hot pot off the stove to let the butter cool. “Can you measure out the sugars please? I wrote down the measurements for you,” I asked. He nodded and started pouring white and brown sugar into the bowl. 

“Hey Siri, play y/n’s (insert favorite non tøp band)‘s playlist,” he called out to our smart speaker. I grabbed out the eggs and cracked them into a bowl along with some vanilla extract which Tyler called ‘spicy’ when he dipped a pinky into the bottle. Once the butter had cooled enough I poured it into the sugar bowl and had Tyler stir it. I danced and sang along to the music playing in the background, waiting for him to finish mixing. I added in the eggs and vanilla, he continued mixing. I added the flour, salt, and baking powder. It always got harder to mix once the flour was added and I struggled to watch Tyler be so slow at something I’d done for weeks. 

“God could you stir any slower?” I laughed, snatching the bowl from him and folding the flour in. 

“Well, is there anything else I can do?” He laughed, leaning against the counter. 

“Uh yeah actually. Can you preheat the oven and line the baking trays?” I nodded towards our oven as I grabbed the block of baking chocolate and started to cut it into little chunks. Tyler looked entirely clueless but he was trying and it was cute. He ran a hand through his hair and squinted at the oven dial. “Shit!” I swore, feeling the blade of the knife nick me like a paper cut. 

“I swear y/n if you just cut off your finger with that knife,” Tyler turned around and grabbed my hand to inspect it. He squinted extra hard at the cut till he saw a couple drops of blood and ran to grab the first aid kit. 

“I’m fine, Ty. It happens all the time in the kitchen,” I say, slapping on a bandage and reaching for the knife again. 

“Ah ah, I’m not letting you hold a knife ever again babe. It’s not happening,” he stole it from my grip and started chopping the chocolate exactly how I had been. We finished mixing everything in and put the cookies into the oven. 

“Did you wash those?” I asked, pointing to the pile of dishes we’d been using. 

“Of course I did,” he smiled, pulling me into his chest. “Now we just wait for y/n’s amazing cookies to be done and we can send half off to Josh.” We sat on the floor in front of the oven, me in between Tyler’s legs and his arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel the rising and falling of his chest with every breath. 

“How’s the songwriting stuff coming along?” I asked. He’d been spending a lot of time in the home studio lately. Normally I wouldn’t ask, knowing that his process was very personal and that he’d mention it when he was ready but it felt right to ask. 

“Not too bad. I think you’ll like the new album if that’s what you’re wondering,” he responded. I’d missed spending time with him like this. The last time we properly got to spend time together was when we were on tour and the boys had a lot of spare time waiting around. I was grateful he’d taken the time off, the warmth of his presence filling my heart. 

“I love you,” I rested my head on his chest as he caressed and curled my hair in between his fingers. 

“You’re my everything y/n. I love everything about you,” he pressed his lips softly to my neck, a fluttery feeling running across my skin. “I don’t know where I’d be without your cookies,” he stopped, desperately trying to hold in his laugh and knowing full well that I was about to destroy him. 

“Oh fuck off,” I grinned, jumping up to check the oven, each cookie a perfect flat golden brown treasure. “They’re done if you want to call Josh and Debby to come over,” I placed them on the cooling rack and wrapped one in a napkin for Tyler to eat fresh out of the oven. He responded with a keen hum before taking a bite. 

“Ugh this is why I love you. Because you make the BEST cookies I’ve ever eaten in my entire life,” he groaned with satisfaction.

“Well now you can make them for yourself,” I felt my lips tug up in a smirk, knowing there was no way he’d ever make them for himself. He would just complain they didn’t taste as good if he made them.

“Or… you can just keep making them every week instead of paying rent.”

“I already don’t pay rent, we own the house,” I said, watching him take another bite. 

“Well if you don’t make these then I’ll start charging you, good enough?” He clearly hadn’t thought through the rent joke before attempting to crack it. 

I nodded, chuckling under my breath, “yeah good enough Mr Joseph.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[genuflectx]

Tw for talking about animal death under the cut

After only two years together and a slow decline, we had to make the call to help our dog Rosie pass last night when she became suddenly very ill. 😞

There is a lot to say about Rosie... we adopted her a few months after my childhood dog passed, and she was the first pet Jester and I picked out together (but being honest... it was mostly Jester's choice). Though she was a bit shocked at the shelter she was quiet and sweet and kept scratching us for pets, so we took her home.

We quickly realized she was not quiet and that she had severe emotional issues. She could hear but didn't respond to human speech, doors made her so anxious that she would yell and rip apart baby gates even if she had tons of space, and she lost a tooth during (failed) crate training. There were a lot of sleepless nights and a trip to a vet behavioralist when we decided to keep and work with her instead of rehome her. This year we realized she was likely far, far older than the vets estimated, given her beginning to lose walking in her back legs (something that can happen to elderly dogs, it happened to Jake at age 13-14 before he passed).

Getting her on anxiety meds/arthritis meds and keeping her out of crates significantly helped and for about a year she was as calm as she'd ever be, save for general anxiety, but no more late night barking. She even got used to seeing closed doors and stopped freaking out at every baby gate. Of course, then we had to deal with her anxious drinking water issue and her inability to learn how to tell us when she wanted out to pee. So we just took her out every 2-3 hours, and that generally worked with a combination of diapers and puppy pads.

She would wag her tail sometimes when she saw us, and when she was silly she'd roll around on her back but she never wanted to play. She didn't know how to be a dog. But still, when I had oatmeal on the weekend she'd sometimes come up to the couch and wag her tail, staring with her insane eyes, and then try to lick the bowl in plain sight if I put it on the table. That was the most "being a dog" she ever did, and I'm glad we were able to get her from "self destructive because she saw a baby gate on the stairs" to "naughty dog stealing oatmeal." Even if it was only for about a year.

Last night I stood her on the grass in the yard for some exercise because she never really enjoyed walks much. At dinner, she sat and shook paw the way I taught her (back when I thought she could not learn I was overjoyed she learned to do a few tricks) to get her favorite dessert, a quiche flavored dog treat. Hours later the slow decline elderly dogs get took a sharp downturn and it hit us like a train. It was immediate and got worse over a few hours.

I will spare details, but I believe it was either a stroke or a third bout of vestibular disease, but this time she was too much on the decline to come out of it alright. Even if she did we knew she would never fully recover (she didn't the first two times, always had a tilt, but happy). I believe we made the right decision. At 1am at an emergency vet we said goodbye and the anxiousness she'd carried with her for who knows how long melted away into rest and peace.

It feels good to talk about her life even in a ramble on a Tumblr post. We did the best we could to give this elderly, neurotic dog two golden years of retirement from whatever background she came from. And we may not have had a week to prepare and to cook her a big farewell dinner like Jake, but she had bacon and eggs and oatmeal and cheese for her adoption day party only a few months ago, so she at least got that. Even getting petted by so many people at the dog park, and they all gave her treats for her special day, and she was the happiest I'd seen her for a while.

We'll miss you Rosie Posie Daisy Doo. I'm glad you're not afraid and hurting anymore, and that we could be friends even if just for a little while.

[couldntbedamned]

Baby, You Don’t Gotta Fight - 8

Summary:  Dr. Christine Palmer is just living her life, content in her job as a trauma surgeon and happily moonlighting as Peter Parker's general physician at her old friend Stephen's request.

One evening as she finishes up examining Peter, she encounters the force of nature that's Sharon Carter, who seems to have a reckless streak a mile wide.

She's not sure what to make of the spy-turned-Avenger, but she can tell Sharon's hurting, and Christine's healing nature won't be ignored.

AO3 Tags/Warnings:   Background Relationships, Awesome Christine Palmer, Snarky Sharon Carter, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Stephen Strange is a Good Bro, Blood and Injury, Medical Procedures, Field Medicine, Sharon Carter Needs a Hug, SHIELD-critical, mild (non-explicit) sexual content, Sharon Carter Loves Burgers, emotional constipation, ethics

<<<>>>

Chapter 8

<<<>>>

Eight times in two weeks.

She'd been to that damned pub and eaten the Lucky 10-3 with a side of parmesan truffle fries eight times in two weeks. She'd fairly gorged herself on that delicious, sinfully juicy burger with the garlic aioli and bacon jam. On one of the visits she'd asked them to add a fried egg and it nearly sent her to a state of bliss.

Her out-of-character eating habits meant she'd been to a goddamned hot yoga class every day she wasn't scheduled for doubles at MetroGen. She'd even gone to the gym in her building and used the elliptical machine. Which, gross.

It was all Sharon's fault.

Except for the fact that it wasn't.

It was hers.

Damn it all, it was her own damn fault.

Her box in the department's mail center held a fancy black envelope. There was some heft to it, along with pretentious looping golden writing. Experience told her what to expect.

The East Coast Surgical Society humbly requests…

Christine rolled her eyes. Another gala. Of course.

She read through the rest of the invite, did a benefit-risk analysis in her head of if it was worth it to even bother attending or just sending in a small donation. Galas were always boring and full of equally boring people. In the end, it was the highlighting of a new scholarship for assisting medical students who had been victims of the Blip in getting back into medical school.

How could she, in good conscience, say no to that?

She tucked the envelope in her bag and looking at her watch, decided she could go for a visit to a nearby Thai place before making her lonely way home.

“Doc?”

She whirled around. James Barnes leaned against one of the pillars holding up the giant port over the main public entrance to MetroGen.

She smiled, puzzled. “Can I help you, Sergeant?”

“Please, call me James or Bucky,” he said, striding over to join her. “I happened to be in the area and figured I’d check in, see how you’re doing.”

“Oh?” she asked, eyebrows raised as they started walking towards the nearest subway entrance. “Am I supposed to be in some kind of trouble?”

“No,” he said. "But it’s not every day an Avenger comes through your ER."

Ah. She understood.

“I’ve yet to have an Avenger come through my ER,” she said, voice deliberate. “I just assumed you were there supporting a friend. Nothing extraordinary about it, to say nothing of the privacy laws I and my colleagues are bound by.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “She’s doing well, since you’re not going to ask.”

She smiled and nodded. “That’s great. I’m glad, really.” She was glad.

“Heading home for the day?” he asked, following her down the steps.

“I thought I’d grab dinner first. There's a restaurant near my place I’m a frequent flier at.”

He swiped his card after hers. “Mind if I join you?”

She studied him. He was a tall man and with his neatly cropped hair, very handsome. His eyes seemed to see more than most would be comfortable knowing and even with the glove, the power that his arm seemed to lend to how he carried himself was evident.

“Is it really a question?” she finally asked.

He smiled, genuinely. “Yeah, I ain’t looking to cause trouble.”

“You’re buying,” she assented.

With a laugh, he stepped into the railcar after her.

He ordered in actual Thai. She didn't bother pretending to not be impressed, especially when the older man taking their orders smiled so wide she half-expected a sun beam to emit from his mouth. Her order was not in Thai, though she always made a habit of trying to pronounce the dishes correctly.

“Any other languages you speak?” she asked as she squeezed the lime wedge into her water.

James smiled ruefully. “It's less that I speak them and more that I know them. I'm not sure how all of the stuff they shoved in my brain got there, but it's useful sometimes.”

“I'm both fascinated and horrified,” she admitted. If she'd gone with a neurology specialty, she'd probably have wanted to do a paper on James and his unique mental condition.

“At least you're honest about it.” He did nothing with his own water, save for stirring the straw around. "Not many people are."

“I'm know you didn't drop in just to invite yourself to my dinner," she finally said. "Is everything okay?"

He focused his attention on her, as if everyone and every thing in the cozy little restaurant was miles away. She didn't flinch, didn't shift in discomfort. She knew the game well, just from a different sort of arena.

"What about your reaction to her scared you?"

Okay, that she hadn't expected. Damn.

"Is that what you think happened?"

The side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. "I know that's what happened. And so do you, or you would have answered the question."

"I really don't like you," she muttered.

James let out a short laugh, eyes twinkling. "Yes, you do."

She stewed in annoyance until their food was brought out and then proceeded to stab at a piece of the crying tiger steak with more viciousness than it deserved. Once she'd eaten a few bites of the steak and the sticky rice, she settled. At least the food was always delicious.

Meanwhile, James seemed wholly unconcerned as he added a mix of chili oil and peanut sauce to his phat thai.

"I've never liked uncertainty," she finally said. "Even knowing that she will bring nothing but uncertainty, I want that kind of rush."

"Present tense," he murmured.

"Yes, present tense." The admission was both a relief and a sentence. "I want her."

James absorbed that information. "She's not easy, and I don't mean that in the hopping into bed sense."

"Oh, I've figured that much out by myself," Christine said.

"Are you going to call her?" he asked.

"I doubt she'd even take my call," she said. "And anyways, she's still my patient."

"Then make her not your patient," James suggested. "You haven't seen Sharon Carter as a patient at either your hospital or the clinic you volunteer at. You've treated two different women and there's no paper trail to suggest it's her. Just hand her treatment off to someone else."

"You say it like it's simple," she argued, food forgotten.

"Because it is simple," James said, taking a bite of his noodles. He chewed and then swallowed. "You either want to take a chance on a relationship with Sharon or you don't. And even if you don't, you might as well stop trying to be her doctor, because all it's going to do is hurt her. I think she's been hurt enough."

"I don't want to hurt her," she said. "That's the last thing I want to do."

When they finished dinner, she tried not to be alarmed by James's offer to walk her home. His smile was probably meant to be reassuring, but it was missing the mark by a degree or two. Still, she wouldn't gain anything by saying no, considering how dangerous the man was.

"Listen Doc, I like you," he said when they stood in front of her building. "So I'm going to help you out. Sharon likes to go watch amateur baseball and softball in Central Park when she wants to do some thinking. You might find her there some afternoon."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Christine wasn't much for sports, though she'd been known to attend a Rangers or Mets game on occasion. She also used her disinclination for the great outdoors to avoid spending long stretches of time in Central Park. But she found herself wandering around near the Hecksher Ballfields one Tuesday afternoon. She spotted Sharon sitting at the bleachers and watching a softball game.

"Who's winning?" she asked, sitting next to her.

"Definitely the finance team," Sharon answered. "Engineering can't seem to hit off of the pitcher."

"Did you play?"

Sharon watched the game, smirking when the pitcher struck out the first batter of the inning with a ball that looked as if it would be out of range but then curved back in.

"I never got the chance. My free time was used for martial arts, trips to the shooting range, and foreign language lessons." She let out a low whistle when the next batter hit a double. "I think I would have liked it, though. Maybe it would have made me a better team player."

"My parents insisted I pick a sport while I was growing up. I finally chose swimming because I hate running and getting dirty," Christine confided. "I could have gone to college on a scholarship for swimming but I was done."

A single.

"What events did you swim?" Sharon asked.

"Hundred yard backstroke and backstroke in the medley relay. The coaches also signed me up to dive one time, but all it took was seeing another diver hit their head on the board and I went "nope!" I just did cannonballs and to this day I have the school record for lowest diving scores."

Sharon laughed. "Not the sporty type?"

The latest batter walked and the bases were loaded.

"Any and all exercise I do is under protest," she said. "Any my yoga instructor knows that."

The next batter struck out.

"So, you're not into sports and particularly outdoorsy. What brings you here of all places?"

"I wanted to see you."

Sharon was silent as the batter stepped up to the plate. Ball one. "Let me guess, Barnes?"

"Yes." There wasn't any point in denying it.

Strike one.

"That man is the biggest pain in my ass," Sharon said.

"Well, he helped me find you so I can't really agree."

"You found me. Now what?"

The batter swung, connected with the ball, and it went flying up and over towards them. Christine didn't have a chance to react before Sharon pushed her down against the foot section of the bleachers. She looked up to see that Sharon had one arm extended, and amazingly, that her hand held the foul ball.

"Are you okay?" Sharon asked. She tossed the ball over the fence to the nearest team's coach and helped her up.

"Yeah," Christine said, voice shaky.

"Good."

"How did you catch that bare-handed?" Christine asked, taking Sharon's hand in her own and checking for fractures. "And how are you not screaming in pain?"

Sharon shrugged. "My time on the run left me with good reflexes. And this is far from the worst pain I've felt in my life."

How did Sharon just brush off pain like it was nothing? The only person Christine knew who could do the same was Peter, but he was enhanced with that spider-healing of his, not to mention he had Stephen, who was almost obsessive about ensuring Peter's health and safety. Sharon, to her knowledge, was simply a dangerously trained spy of a human.

"I would feel a lot better if we put some ice on this," she said.

Sharon eyed her suspiciously. "Just the ice?"

"And four ibuprofen," Christine added.

"Two," Sharon countered.

"Done. Come on, I have a first-aid kit with instant cold packs back at my apartment."

"Your goal was actually two, wasn't it?"

Christine simply smiled. "I'll never tell."

"This isn't going to keep happening," Christine said as she wrapped up Sharon's hand. She'd had Sharon sitting on the couch so it could be iced on and off. Every switch-up she checked that circulation and sensation were good. "The whole being your doctor thing. If you're under an alias, that's one thing. But as Sharon? I can't. Not at my hospital. You'll have to see someone else."

"Okay?" Sharon asked, confusion clear on her face.

"I can't be accused of a breach of ethics if you're not officially my patient."

"And what exactly would the breach of ethics be?" Sharon asked.

She was really going to make Christine spell it out. Well, that was fair enough.

"I'm planning on starting with asking you to be my date to the EC Surgical Society gala on Friday evening. Then, if that goes well, I'd like to bring you back here and spend the rest of the night kissing you senseless."

Sharon nodded. "What changed?"

Christine let out a breath. "I have this thing about control," she said. "And you... you can't be controlled. You're reckless and seem to have zero regard for your life and you're capable of things that terrify me. But I feel more alive when I'm around you than I've ever felt outside of the operating room. You make me want throw away caution and I'm tired of trying to talk myself out of it. So, if you'll let me, I'd like to give this whole thing between us a shot."

There it was. Out in the open. And Sharon was just studying her with dark brown eyes that betrayed nothing.

"I'll let you on one condition," Sharon finally said.

"Which is?"

"You go ahead and kiss me senseless now."

With a laugh, she pushed Sharon back into the couch and did just that.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Eye to Eye, Hand in Hand

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

This time, Ramsay’s students are from two social extremes. When they’re bringing drastically different viewpoints and backgrounds to the table, can food be the great equalizer?

Imagine this...

Gordon’s time at Night Raven College had been... extremely eventful, to put it mildly. When he closed his eyes, those memories would shoot across the darkness like fires flaring in the night.

Shouting, wailing, confused cries. Strange smells and odd, colorful concoctions. Flowing hair and the silver flash of blades handled by untrained hands. The blood, sweat, and tears of all his past pupils.

“Right, let’s make this as painless as possible,” he had told his newest duo—trying to stay optimistic. It was directed both to them and to himself.

The last thing Gordon wanted was another kitchen nightmare.

But...

Crack, crack, crack!

A row of eggs sailed through the air in an elegant arc. They were caught one by one, their shells gently knocked against the flat of a clean counter and eased open. Golden yolks and translucent whites dropped into a large, waiting bowl.

Two hands working at once, not a single shard of shell tainting the eggs. Efficient and clean.

Gordon blinked. “... Bloody brilliant.”

“Nishishishi. Impressed, teach?” Ruggie glanced up from his work to pass along an impish grin. He playfully moved an egg back and forth between his palms, as though expertly handling a softball. Fast hands—and even faster fingers, practiced in pilfering.

“You’ve clearly got experience,” Gordon said carefully.

The hyena nodded, busting open another round of eggs. “I could do this with my eyes closed.”

Ruggie jabbed his chin to the counter adjacent from his. “And looks like Malleus-kun can too!”

Gordon warily followed where Ruggie guided his eyes—and the chef’s jaw dropped, nearly colliding with the floor.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Dozens and dozens of eggs floated in the air, emitting a strange neon green light. As if guided by an invisible hand, they tore themselves open, their contents separating into two bowls: one for yolks and one for eggs.

A whisk, also giving off the same green glow, beat the whites, which turned frothy in a matter of seconds. Following that, a rubber spatula gently folded runny yolks into the whites.

The mixture was poured onto a greased pan on the stove, a line of emerald flames cooking the eggs into omelettes. When the tops had set, the omelettes folded themselves in half, lifting from the heat and onto plates. Rows and rows of great, golden, wobbling mounds were set out. Each perfectly identical products of magic.

And there, hovering over the mass-produced omelette army, was Malleus Draconia, his mouth curled into a satisfied smirk.

“I trust that this amount is sufficient for the judges, Chef,” he declared matter-of-factly.

Gordon stared at him.

Then his expression grew hard as a jagged stone—as did his voice.

“Start from scratch.”

There was a pregnant pause as the order soaked in.

“... Excuse me?” Challenge took residence in the fairy’s tone. Unseen embers licked his every word.

“You heard me.” Gordon slammed a hand down on the counter, rattling all the plates. “No magic in my kitchen! We do things the old fashioned way around here.”

Malleus’s features sharpened.

“Is it not more efficient to use magic for meal preparation? It would take a great amount of time to master the various techniques and appliances to be found in the kitchen—but with magic, that issue is greatly alleviated.”

“Lazy cooking is what it is. It’s like sticking eggs in a damn microwave. How do you expect to be self-sufficient if you’re relying on something else to do all the work for you? The texture, the searing... The results would never be the same, and the food loses all its heart.”

“Heart, you say?”

Sparks flew between their gazes, charging the air with tension. Ruggie’s fur stood up, his skin tingling, as if grazed by lightning.

Uh-oh. Is a fight gonna break out or what?

To the hyena’s shock, Malleus brought a hand to his chin, his face turning pensive.

“I see. So you are also no fan of metal contraptions. That is one thing we can see eye-to-eye on.”

“You mean microwaves? Yeah, I can’t stand those bloody things. They’re no replacement for what your mother gave you.” Gordon thrust up both hands. “If you have them, then put them to good use, god damn it!”

Malleus frowned slightly. “To liken magic to machinery... it is odd, but perhaps not incorrect. They are both marvels that serve to lighten one’s workload, defeating the point of a course which prides itself on instilling ‘self-sufficiency’ in its students.

“How curious. I had no idea that cooking was meant to be so laborious.”

“Well, you had better get used to it.” Gordon placed an egg in Malleus’s open hand, then indicated a bowl.

The prince tentatively curled his fingers around it.

“Go on then. Get cracking.”

Malleus did.

CRACK!!

The egg was cleanly crushed between Malleus’s pale fingers. Its insides ran down his hand, painting his skin in shades of sunshine and viscous rain.

Malleus frowned, and grabbed another egg.

CRACK!!

Again, it shattered—this time, bits of eggshell sticking to the glue of yolk and whites. Malleus’s brows furrowed in mild frustration. His strength, frightening.

“Keep at it,” Gordon encouraged. “You’re bound to get the hang of it sooner or later--but for god’s sake, loosen up your grip!”

“Hmm, that’s strange. I was already holding back as much of my strength as I could...” Malleus glanced over at Ruggie, who had procured a whisk and was furiously beating his own eggs. “You appear to be quite skilled at this, Bucchi.”

“He~ I’m being complimented by the great Malleus-kun. Should I shed a tear?” Ruggie snickered at his own sarcasm. “Nah, I’ve just been cooking a lot longer than you have. Unlike you rich people, the rest of us gotta fend for ourselves, sometimes without microwaves or magic.”

(... Though he wouldn’t say no to a free microwave—it would certainly cut down on cooking, freeing up more time for picking up additional odd jobs.)

“So I see. I initially enrolled in Master Chef to answer a particular query of mine, but... It seems that I am learning far more than I had initially anticipated that I would.”

Malleus gave a small smile. “For the common folk to put forth this much effort into making meals... It makes me all the more appreciative for the food which appears before me.”

“I’ll bet it does~”

Ruggie’s mouth was wry as he lifted his whisk to check the consistency of his peaks. They were slightly stiff, falling off in thick, creamy glops. From the corner of his eye, he could see Malleus carefully observing the consistency. On his other side, Gordon peaked over his shoulder, nodding in approval.

Must be nice being a big shot. Waited on hand and foot, never having to give a second thought about where your next meal will come from. And being a celebrity chef from another world ain’t half bad either. Must make the big bucks back home.

“... Have you got something to say?” Gordon suddenly asked, his gaze locking with Ruggie’s. “Come out and say it then.”

“Nothin’, Chef~ Just a hyena hard at work!” He put on his best innocent face. “Oh, by the way! Speaking of work, we’re not gonna let Malleus-kun’s go to waste, right?” Ruggie indicated the magical omelettes.

“We’re not serving those to the judges. They weren’t prepared with the proper parameters in mind.”

“We’re not tossing them, are we? It sure would be a waste of ingredients.” A mischievous grin spread across the hyena’s face. “Nishishishi... I’d be happy to take’m off your hands for ya!”

Ah, so that was his true aim all along.

Gordon’s brow knitted together. “Don’t be daft. By the time this class is over, the air will have gotten out them. You’ll have cold and deflated omelettes.”

“So?” Ruggie shrugged. “Food’s food. Sometimes you don’t have much of a choice with what you can eat or how fresh it is. Can’t afford to be picky.”

Gordon passed a look to Malleus.

“I have no qualms with his proposal,” the prince replied. “However, it would be a shame to partake in food when it is not at its peak.”

Malleus smirked, raising a hand. “You are employed by Kingscholar for menial tasks, correct? Then what say we make a pact of our own? Favors for favors, one might say.”

“A pact with you?” Ruggie stiffened at the suggestion. A great risk—but, perhaps, even greater reward. “I’m listening.”

“It is no feat for me to retain the freshness of the omelettes. My wind magic shall keep the air from escaping. In exchange, you will lend me your instruction on egg handling, seeing as you are adequately versed on the matter.”

“Huh? That’s it?”

“Yes. Of course, I can always ask Ramsay for the same, but I believe it may be just as valuable to hear advice from the common man. It is important for someone of my status to understand the people from various countries and walks of life. This is merely a stepping stone to that end.”

“Seriously...? Sheesh, you’re shrewd...” Ruggie bit back a laugh, and seized the opportunity. “Well, alright! It’s an easy win-win for me. Listen and watch closely, Malleus-kun~”

“Fufu. Please instruct me well, Bucchi.”

Gordon crossed his arms, wearing a gruff grin. Like a fond father, he watched over the duo as they leaned closer, shoulders bumping—Ruggie muttering something, Malleus looking intense as he absorbed it.

Quiet words slipped out of their mentor.

“... Now that’s what I like to see.”

Poor and wealthy, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia, peasant and prince, beastman and fairy. As different as the were, both needed to eat. At the dining table, nothing else mattered. Their very reason for gathering was the same.

Together at the table, they were equals.

[tlbodine]

Horror Directors: Jordan Peele

A big part of what got us set on the "horror directors" theme for our film series was wanting to rewatch Peele's first two movies in preparation for NOPE, which was the cinematic event of the summer. So we did! Let's do a quick recap of GET OUT and US, and then I'll follow up with some thoughts on NOPE.

This post will be spoiler-free.

Jordan Peele's background is comedy, having started out on Mad TV doing sketch comedy in the early 2000s, then joining with Keegan-Michael Key to do Key & Peele on Comedy Central, and a bunch of other miscellaneous TV projects. But his directorial debut was a horror film you've undoubtedly heard about by now....

Get Out (2017) was a critical darling, helping to usher in what at the time seemed like an inevitable golden age of horror. It was nominated for four awards, and Peele became the first Black person to win Best Original Screenplay. There was a fair bit of controversy surrounding it, too, which I think ultimately helped to propel Peele's career more than hinder it.

If you somehow managed to miss this movie, or just need a refresher: The film centers on a young Black man going to visit his white girlfriend's upper-middle-class parents for the first time. His anxieties about that meeting turn out to be more than justified when he arrives to discover some...ah...very unsettling things.

I won't spoil it in case you somehow have managed to never see it, because it's a delightful romp of a film. It's also painfully uncomfortable to watch, not just for the horror elements but because of the second-hand embarrassment of seeing people say agonizingly inappropriate things to one another.

Us (2018) came out right on the heels of Get Out and I think everyone was very eager to see what he'd come up with next. This one was not as universally loved, and in my opinion the plot suffers a little bit from some logical problems, but it is visually stunning and genuinely terrifying.

This one's plotline, in brief: a family's summer vacation to the mom's childhood town is horrifying interrupted by the arrival of dopplegangers who perfectly mirror their family...and who might have a personal axe to grind (or scissors, as the case may be).

Nope (2022) is Peele's third film (he didn't direct the Candyman reboot, that was Nia DeCosta). This one is about a family of horse trainers who work in the movies, and the unusual events that befall their ranch when an otherworldly visitor apparently takes an interest in them.

The less you know about this one going into it, I think, the more fun you'll have.

For my money, NOPE was a very solid film, and one I'm enjoying more the more I think back on it. I want to see it again in theaters, maybe in IMAX. I think it's the kind of movie that gets better with multiple watch-throughs.

Which, in general, I think is true for all of Peele's films.

I really do enjoy his work as a filmmaker. I think sometimes his movies can be a little ambitious and overwrought, but I deeply appreciate that he makes original work with depth and layers and themes and that he's not shy about making those themes accessible. His movies are smart, but they're not pretentious at all, and if you put in a tiny amount of work in parsing them, you'll be rewarded.

As a writer, I also have a TON of respect for how tight his storytelling is. Especially in NOPE, where everything ties together with so much more consistency than you see at first blush. And as a director, he manages to squeeze so much visual information into every scene that there are always little easter eggs to discover later.

Anyway, I love what that dude's doing with movies, and I love that somebody's out here making original, thoughtful horror that's doing something different, and that he's so gosh-darn good at it. Keep doing your think, Peele, and I'll keep chucking my money at you.

[kawaragimysticalsenju]

Clarity | Tokyo Rev

Chapter Three

Synopsis : Toman doesn't have weaklings and a girl definitely didn't mean a weakling. Hanagaki discovers Baji's cousin to be Toman's spy and Naoto's higher-up is a little too similar to her. Did he gain another ally?

Word count : 2K

OC used : Kawaguchi Hanabi

Warning : Gang violence, smoking, swearing

Previous [Current] Next

Peace was some presumptuous bullshit. Anyone involved in gang business abided by that law. Whether it was an unspoken rule or not, nobody gave two shits. Just like the warring states era, conflict between gangs with opposite morals was inevitable.

Having a spy allied with a gang was like getting a duck who can produce golden eggs. But Hanabi wasn’t just a spy for Toman. Very few, even in the ranks of their own gang, knew the origins of Toman. The five founding members who represented their values – Mikey as the pillar, Draken as his rock, Keisuke Baji and Hanemiya Kazutora as the wild cards, Mitsuya Takashi as the grounding factor, Hayashida Haruki as the peaking point and finally, Kawaguchi Hanabi as the mind behind every conquest Toman set its eyes on.

Ever since the gang became active, not a single plan went through without her ‘go ahead’. That was just how things worked. So, naturally, when a meeting was called for the captains by his third in command, he knew better than to question her judgement.

“So…”, he chewed on his creamyaki, “Ken-chin, where’s Hana-chan?”

The tall bloke sighed, producing a napkin from his pockets, “Don’t be so messy, Mikey. Hanabi should be here any minute.”

“Hanabi, huh?” The new third division captain was only glared at by the first division vice-captain. “What business does Toman have with a girl? Let alone someone who’s not even punctual?”

“Hey, watch your mouth. You don’t get to shit-talk about Miss Spy.” Smiley’s passive aggressive voice rebuked. “Got that, Kisaki?”

“What? How’s it my fault? I’m just stating facts. Personally, if you ask me, having a girl at such high position of power only throws the hierarchy off balance. Ain’t that right, Mikey?”

The amused commander only snorted, abandoning his seat atop the monkey bars. “You better take the advice. It’s better for your own well-being.”

Pushing his glasses upward, the sophomore chuckled mirthlessly. “I doubt that.”

“Well, you should. Being self-aware is a good trait to have.”

The sudden voice evaded the growing tense atmosphere. The guys looked to their left and there stood a feminine figure, dressed in a puffer jacket and biker shorts. The light from the lamp post illuminated her face as she stepped forward. Going around the Commander, she appeared beside Kisaki, a hand placed on his collar to tug him down to her eye level.

“But…being too aware is equally as lame. Tetta Kisaki, fifteen, attending Shibuya Private School. Single father, rich background. You have a little sister too, don’t you?” She smirked at his widened gaze. “If you ever, and I mean ever, disrespect a girl because of her gender, I won’t hesitate to castrate your sorry self. Am I clear?”

“Let go of me!”

And she did, sending him flailing to the ground. Turning around, she met the rest with a cheeky grin. “Let’s get this meeting started, shall we? Unless anyone else has a problem with my gender, that is.”

“The stage is yours, punk”, Mitsuya called out, much to the chagrin of his stiffened vice-captain.

“Great”, she stepped onto the elevated pedestal, surveying the faces of everyone present. “So, as most of you are aware, I’m sort of the intel gatherer of Toman. As such, I’m not always present. No, I’m not a division captain and mostly have contact with you lot. So, communication within us is slightly troublesome.”

Mikey interjected, his posture relaxed, “You got a report for us?”

Confirming his thoughts, she continued, “I’ve been meddling around Shinjuku and Yokohoma. Stuff’s not looking good with the Kanto region gangs, as of late. The Haitani brothers are changing locations like crazy and recently conquered all of Roppongi.”

“What about Yokohoma?” Draken questioned.

“With my connections, I was able to get info from some smaller biker gangs. Apparently some of them got into trouble with dudes wearing red uniforms. Then there’s the Black Dragons…” Unbeknownst to Hanabi, a certain bluenette clenched his jaw. “Shiba Taiju has practically turned their turf into a military system. Some kids from Shibuya were hospitalized last week. If this continues, their next target will definitely be Toman.”

“It’s gonna be a pain to deal with all of these at once…”, muttered Mikey. “What do you plan on doing?”

With a steady gaze and a steadfast resolve, she answered, “I’ll go out of station for a while. If we take things for granted, it won’t be long before they come after us. I’ll try to find more about the ‘red uniform’ gang and someone needs to keep an eye out for the Black Dragons. But there’s one single problem.”

“What?” Blurted a blonde boy that Hanabi recognized from the August 3rdconflict. But to her knowledge, he wasn’t a captain or an acting one. “Sorry…”

Dismissing his embarrassment, she turned to their leader, “What’s he doing here? Hanagaki ain’t in-charge of anything, is he?”

“He…uh…”, Chifuyu stuttered at the sudden attention from the female. “He’s with me, Kawaguchi-san.”

Cocking a brow, she mocked the use of formality, “What am I? Thirty? Just Hanabi’s fine.”

Kisaki groaned, a sound that irked her more than it should have. “Can we get back on topic?”

“Right~”, she voiced, clearing her throat. “Also, I had a chat earlier, with former first div. captain Baji Keisuke.”

From the way Mikey’s frame straightened, she knew she had his full attention. “What happened?”

Heaving a sigh, she shook her head. “No luck. He’s adamant on joining Valhalla. And with Kazutora out of Juvie, war’s not too far from ensuing.”

Mitsuya closed his eyes, gritting his teeth in frustration. As did Draken.

“War with Baji-san? That is a whole another level of messed up…”, the Matsuno murmured audibly.

“We won’t back down”, Mikey finalized. “If they want war, war is what they’ll get.”

The murmurs from the group were of confusion and wariness. Scoffing, the female jumped down from the elevation. “Easy for you to say, Manjiro. Look, if I visit Yokohoma, I’ll be doing recruitments as well. It’s gonna take time. Meanwhile, you cannot, at any cost, rush into things. If anyone tries to pick a fight, aim for minimum damage. With Toman’s rising popularity and comparatively small numbers, a red target is stamped on our backs. Be careful.”

At her expense, her friends only snickered.

“Oi, Hanabi”, Mitsuya started, “What do you take us for? We’ll manage a few days without you.”

“You know”, Draken drawled out playfully, “She reminds me of a mother hen. Always fussing over her children. Our firecracker is growing up~”

Mikey nodded, tugging at her hair, only for her to pinch his hand. “We’ll be fine. You go do your job at Yokohoma, Hana-chan. Toman is safe with me.”

And maybe it was because she had known those guys for a long time, that a sense of calmness washed over her. The corners of her lips tugging upwards, she turned away from the concentration of testosterone. “Alright, you assholes. I don’t want a single casualty, understand? Or I’ll bag you.”

As the meeting was adjourned, Takemichi could only stare at Hanabi in awe. Not only did she put Kisaki in his place, she joked around with the founders of Toman!

“Close you mouth unless you wanna eat flies, Takemitchy.”

Chifuyu’s interjection snapped him out of his reverie. “I thought Toman was a strictly boys-only gang. But that girl is so cool!”

The other male coughed, “Well, she is Baji-san’s cousin. She’s one of the commanding powers in the gang and equally as strong as Draken-kun.”

“No kidding!” Takemichi blanched. The boy found it hard to believe. If this girl truly was that important in Toman, how come she wasn’t mentioned even once to have connections with the corrupt one of the future?

But before he could dwell on his thoughts, Chifuyu had started dragging him towards her departing form. “Let’s go talk to her.”

It wasn’t until when they were in her line of sight that he started second guessing. “Uh…what do I say to her?”

“Just act natural, man”, the Matsuno assured. His hand rose up to tap the female on her shoulder. “Hey, Kawagu- I mean, Hanabi-san.”

She looked up from her cellphone, flipping it close and pocketing it. “Yo. What do you want?”

Chifuyu took Takemichi by the collar, pushing him forward. “This is Hanagaki Takemichi. He’s in the second division. We were hoping to get a word in with Baji-san.”

“H-hey...”, said guy waved awkwardly.

In a moment, her gaze turned from accepting to as if she wanted to say ‘are you kidding me?’. “And you want his address?”

“I went to his house and he refused to talk to me…”, Chifuyu admitted, rubbing his nape. “If you know where we can find him, that’d be a huge help.”

A few more seconds of squirming under her gaze, Takemichi was pleasantly surprised when she pulled out a stack of post-its and scribbled something down before handing it to his newfound partner.

“I don’t know for sure but he should be there tomorrow. Around five, if I were to make a guess. Though I doubt he’ll co-operate.” Next her eyes shifted to him, and an odd look crossed her face. In the end, she held a hand out for him paired with an eerie smile, “Nice meeting you, Hanagaki Takemichi. Hopefully you stick around after your first fight.”

Those words were odd. So much so, that Takemichi found himself repeating those same words over and over in his head till he leaped into the future. Something wasn’t right and he needed Naoto’s input to figure out what.

As he regained consciousness, he found his girlfriend’s brother sitting hunched over the desk. “Hey, Naoto!”

The man quite literally jumped in his seat before placing a hand over his chest, glaring at him. “Damn it, Takemichi-kun. Give me a warning at least!”

“Yeah, but I’ve got some info that I need you to check.” He sat up on the bed, getting to his feet alongside the ravenette. He proceeded to narrate everything that happened, from Baji leaving Toman to the discovery of Kawaguchi Hanabi.

Surprisingly, Naoto only smirked at the mention of the female. “I must say, you have a good timing.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The detective huffed a laugh. “While you went back to the past, my higher up dropped by. She wants to officially meet you.”

“Your higher up?” It took a few seconds for Takemichi to realize something and he outright panicked. “You mean, you told someone else of my time-leaping powers?! Naoto!”

The younger man gave him a look. “How else was I supposed to get clearance for every bit of confidential info that you keep asking for? Anyways, you’re lucky she’s working in late today.”

Takemichi was hesitant but he followed Naoto down the dimly-lit hallway. They took a left and then another before Naoto stopped in front of a wooden door. He knocked and earned a faint, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Tachibana, ma’am. Hanagaki Takemichi is back.”

Shuffling was heard in the room beyond and then the voice instructed them to come in. In the back of his conciousness, Takemichi swore he recognized it from somewhere. It wasn’t too rough, nor encased with softness. It was the voice of someone who seemed to have seen too much in life and spoken too little.

Yet, the last thing he expected going in was to see an extremely familiar face, black hair framing her pale cheeks and a knowing smile stretched across her lips. She was leaning on her table. Stacks of paper covering the tabletop and her dark circles were a clear symbol of her overworking nature. She removed the cigarette from her mouth, swatting away the puff of smoke that was released.

“Yo. I’ve been awaiting this meeting, Takemichi.” The teasing lilt to her voice was unsettling. “So, ‘time leaper’, huh? You haven’t changed your ways of accomplishing the impossible then…I’m glad.”

And suddenly, it was too obvious why Baji’s cousin wasn’t involved with Toman. Or alternatively, she was. Just not in its activities.

*Notes :

- This fic doesn't directly focus on canon events but the timeline is the same

- I should be doing my assignments yet here I am, uploading three days in a row...huhu😭

[infernal-fire]

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k 

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you. 

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day. 

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway. 

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated. 

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

//

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep. 

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen. 

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word. 

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast. 

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered. 

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby. 

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name. 

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names. 

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer. 

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles. 

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.” 

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone. 

“You didn’t say my name.” 

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?” 

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team. 

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter. 

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward. 

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him. 

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised. 

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded. 

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with. 

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him. 

Or so you think. 

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye. 

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised. 

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow. 

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.” 

He tried to speak, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear. 

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question. 

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.” 

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly. 

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down. 

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up. 

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react. 

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle. 

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal. 

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck. 

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason. 

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now. 

At last, he snapped. 

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists. 

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them. 

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for. 

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision. 

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face. 

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself. 

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face. 

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

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[baronessblixen]

Fictober prompt 🍂 Mulder, Scully, and William at a pumpkin patch OR making a pumpkin pie together — Bonus if it’s a gloomy, rainy fall day ? 👉🏻👈🏻

Pure family fluff! Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2021

Wc: 1216

Fictober Day 3

A Day As Sweet as Pie

"Now?" William is staring up at Mulder like a pleading puppy. He smiles at his son, picks him up, and hoists him on his hip. He’s waited long enough.

"Now," he says and the boy cheers in his arms. Together they walk into the kitchen where Scully has begun preparing for operation Grandma's Pumpkin Pie. William picked the name - and the dessert.

"So, how do we do this?" Mulder asks, sitting William on the kitchen counter. He and Scully share a small, secret smile. Their son has been planning this for weeks. Making a pumpkin pie. Not just any pie, no. It has to be his grandmother's recipe - and it has to be a gift for her. He's been obsessed with the idea ever since they visited a pumpkin patch. Mulder and Scully promised him to help him bake the pie but never found the time. Until today.

It’s been raining since the early morning, the sun without a chance to bathe the fresh fallen leaves in red, golden hues. But William found a few he liked anyway on his morning walk with Mulder. They’re pinned to the fridge, along with a picture he drew of himself, and his parents. All three of them having pumpkins for heads.

"I'm in charge of the eggs," William says, pointing at the carton. He's been watching them like a hawk for days, afraid Mulder would use them to make scrambled eggs. That happened last week and William has vowed to never let the eggs out of his sight again.

"You are, egg man," Mulder says and the boy giggles.

"Mommy, can we start?" He's so excited that his tiny legs repeatedly kick against Mulder who is standing in front of him.

"Yes, baby. Are you ready?" Their son nods solemnly. "First we have to start making the crust."

"Does it need eggs?"

"We need the eggs for later." A disappointed look appears on Will's face.

"We need flour and butter now."

Mulder prepares the cups of flour under the watchful eyes of his son. He hides a grin, knowing exactly where the boy is getting his meticulous work ethic from. Scully, too, watches him, probably thinking of that one and only time they tried to bake a cake for his birthday, back in the day when they'd just started dating. They'd gotten everything wrong and almost set his kitchen on fire when they started making out and forgetting the cake in the oven.

"Mulder, attention."

"Yes, boss."

William giggles.

"You think this is funny, young man?" The boy nods enthusiastically, showing his baby teeth.

"I'll show you funny," Mulder says and dips his finger into the flour and boops William's nose.

"Daddy!" William says, laughing. "Mommy needs a flour nose, too!" Mulder grins at his son, agreeing. He does it again and looks at Scully. She's smiling at him so he touches her nose gently, much to Will's delight.

"Now you!" Before either parent can intervene, William's whole hand disappears into the bag of flour and then lands on Mulder's face.

"You've got flour on your nose!" William exclaims happily, clapping his hands and making a small flour cloud.

"Not just nose," Scully says, clearly amused, trying to remove at least some of the flour from Mulder’s face. "Let's get back to work."

When it's time to roll the dough, Mulder holds William in his arms while Scully puts her hands over Will's tiny ones to help him find the right pressure. It comes out perfectly and Will grins proudly. It doesn’t last long though.

"Is it time for the eggs now?"

"Almost." As excited as William was at first, he's slowly beginning to lose interest in pie making. He stares at the eggs, rolls them around while Scully works on the filling.

"Will," she says a moment later and the boy's ears pike up, "it's time for the eggs."

The boy picks up the first egg with both his hands and looks at his mother.

"I can crack it?" He asks and she nods.

"Do you want your dad to help you?" William shakes his head no. But Mulder watches, holding his breath, as Will cracks the first egg and lets it run into the bowl.

"You did it!" He says, cheering him on. William takes the next one, just as carefully, and cracks it. His tongue sneaks out in concentration when he cracks the third and last one.

"Well done, honey," Scully says, kissing his head.

"That was hard work," William says with a drawn-out sigh. He watches his parents mix the ingredients together, helping whenever he can. His mouth is half open in constant awe and when Mulder offers him a taste of the filling, the boy almost eats the whole spoon.

"There's just one thing missing," he says. Both William and Scully glance at him with matching sets of skeptical eyes.

"The secret ingredient."

"Secret," William repeats in a whisper.

"Ginger," Mulder replies in the same tone. He winks at Scully, knowing that even she didn't know about it. Maggie Scully only told him.

"You know why your grandma adds it, Will?" The boy shakes his head. "Cause she always had a house full of gingers and putting ginger in the pie was like making sure they'd always come home for Thanksgiving." He and Scully share a long look while William laughs, too young to fully understand. Mulder sees a tear in the corner of Scully's eye and moves to remove it.

"She's gonna love this pie," he says to William, but keeping his eyes on Scully, "because it's filled with love."

William spends the first twenty minutes in front of the oven, watching his pie bake.

"How much longer?" He asks every five minutes and Scully, with the patience of a saint, tells him each and every time.

"Come on, time for your bath," Mulder says, picking him up.

"I don't want to miss it being done," William complains. “I don’t need a bath.”

"You won't, I promise. And you do need one. We both do.” Scully throws him a thankful smile.

Half an hour later, Mulder and William return to the kitchen, both freshly showered, both smelling like Will's bubble gum shower gel. Will, pajama-clad and hair still wet, plants himself in front of the oven again.

"How much longer?"

"Five minutes," Scully says and William groans, sounding much older than his five years.

"He gets that impatience from you," Scully says to Mulder, getting on tiptoes and running her hand through his wet hair. He grins at her.

"I know," he replies proudly.

"Operation successful?" Mulder asks Will when they take the pie out.

"Yes!" William exclaims. Then his mood changes just as quickly.

"What's the matter, honey?" Scully asks. "Your grandma is going to love it."

Will nods slowly. "Yeah. But I want to eat it now."

With the smell of freshly baked pie wafting through the apartment, they all three agree on a bowl of ice cream as a treat. They huddle together under a blanket on the couch, a movie playing in the background.

"Today was the best day," Will says a while later, already half asleep. "Wasn't it?"

"It was," Scully confirms, ruffling his hair, and Mulder couldn't agree more.

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 3

summary: sometimes things just don’t go as planned... 

warning: smut (first time writing it, i hope it’s not shitty), cursing, fluff

w/c: 3,432

a/n: hey guys! my new trimester of nursing school just started completely which means that all the parts after this one won’t come as quickly. i’ll still be writing just not as fast. but anyway, happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~

The next day rolled around, both Y/n and Tom stayed home from work. They needed a much deserved distraction from everything they have discovered. Y/n woke up first to go to the backyard and do some morning yoga. She did that everyday but that morning she felt extra relaxed since she wasn’t going to work. The yoga session was longer too, taking more time to meditate and pray to the heavens (a/n: or the universe, in case you don't believe) for tranquility, happiness and love. Tom on the other hand, enjoyed sleeping in. He would sleep the whole day if he could. He’s the kind of person that would eat breakfast at 4 in the afternoon cause he had just woken up. When Y/n was in her last minutes of meditation, Tom walked outside in his grey sweatpants, shirtless, no underwear due to the eventful night from before. He stood there for a few, hands in his pockets, watching his wife take deep breaths. The wind blowing through her hair as she meditated the stress and anxiety away. 

“Morning, love.” he said breaking the silence which made her open her eyes and turn to him.

“Good morning, honey.” she said smiling as she uncrossed her legs and started standing up. Tom stayed there, getting a great view of her ass. She stood up and skipped to him, giving him a tight hug. Y/n took away her face from his neck and stared into his eyes which made him kiss her immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring every move and shape of each other's lips. They fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were meant to touch since the beginning of all eternity. 

“Let’s go get some coffee.” she whispered against his lips as they parted from the kiss a bit. Tom chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking inside towards the kitchen. After a few minutes, they sat down at the dining table, drinking their coffee, eating their fruits and eggs while Tom read the newspaper. Y/n sat there and admired him the whole time. The way his freckles shone with the sun, the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. 

“I forgot to tell you. We have to visit the docks later today..”

“What for exactly?” she said looking up from her plate. 

“When Harrison came to my office yesterday, we looked over all the buyers from this month. One of them has worked with Adam before. I’d like for both of us to check it out, maybe he’s intimidated by a woman.” he smiled and he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb against it. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. 

“Whoever‘s not intimidated by a female mob boss, is fucking insane.” Tom cackled making Y/n giggle and lean in to give him a small kiss. 

After breakfast, they started getting ready for their business outing. Y/n wanted to look intimidating so she went for the pant suit. Tom went for the suit of course but this one had a few golden details in the fabric. He was ready very quickly since his wife had to do her makeup and her hair. About 10 minutes later, she finally came downstairs. Wearing a black pantsuit with a red bralette underneath, red heels, a low bun with a few hairs framing her face and her purse and sunglasses in her hand. Tom was in complete awe, he always has been since the first time he met her. 

(flashback to the night they first met) 

Every important mob boss was there, mostly men, drinking and talking business. The only women there were the wives, mistresses and sexy waitresses. No one had really expected a woman to be boss. Everyone pictured them as accessories for men to “look pretty” or some sex toy. 

“So, Tom tell me. Don’t you have any arm candy?” a man asked him, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

“No. Not today.” Tom said, chuckling nervously as he scratched his eyebrow. 

“You know, you should find one soon. There’s nothing better than a celebration after these things.” another man smirked, grabbing the ass of the woman next to him and taking a sip from his champagne. Tom got bored of the conversation which made him look around at everyone. He was on the second floor looking down over the railing. That’s when every single jaw hit the floor when Y/n walked in. The only powerful female mob boss in the country. The room went silent as she strutted into the place. People started murmuring, not expecting her to show up since she had disappeared for some time prior. 

She was wearing a long red dress with a long slit on the side, her hair curled perfectly. Tom stared at her in awe, like time had stopped and he felt that his breath was taken away. Y/n looked up and caught him staring. They stared at each other for some time, feeling sparks as their eyes met. She looked away when a waitress tapped her shoulder to offer her a glass of champagne which of course she took. When she looked up again, Tom was gone. She frowned as she continued to look around, trying to find him. Suddenly, as she was standing in the middle of the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned and met with the same chocolate colored eyes that made her melt. 

“Hello.” he said smiling making her smile too. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m Tom.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. 

“Y/n.” she shook his hand as his face went serious for a bit. Not believing that this was the woman everyone feared. 

(end of flashback) 

She stood in front of him and smiled. 

“You ready?” he nodded and opened the front door for her to walk out. They finally made it to the car and started making their way towards the ports. 

“Can you give me a background check on who we’re gonna meet?” she asked, putting on her sunglasses. 

“His name is James Cavanaugh. This is the first time we ever make an exchange with him. That’s why I did the background check in the first place.” 

“And that’s when you saw he had worked with Adam before..” 

“Yep. For all we know Adam put him up to this so he could spy on us some more.” he said, running his hand through his hair and clenching his jaw in anger. 

“Well we’re not gonna let him do that.” Y/n said softly as she grabbed her husband’s hand. He looked at her and placed his other hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was quick, both of them sitting up straight again as the car tumbled into the port. The car came to a stop which caused Tom to open the door and quickly jogged around the car to help his wife out. He opened her door and she swung her legs out. Y/n stepped out and started walking towards the men standing on the dock, her heels clacking against the wooden surface. Tom was right behind her with his hand on her lower back. 

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” he said as they got closer to him. 

“Well, hello Tom. Good to see you.” Jame said, shaking Tom’s hand as he looked Y/n up and down. 

“And who may this beauty be?” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, thanks to her sunglasses, he didn’t see that. Tom was filled with rage at that moment. That’s his wife the guy is raging over. All he wanted to do at that moment was shoot James in the head.

“I’m Mrs. Holland.” she said with zero expression on her face. 

“Oh, the infamous Y/n. Well, it’s a privilege to finally meet you.” he said, smirking as he extended his hand, waiting for her to shake it. 

“I don’t shake hands, Mr. Cavanaugh.” she said and walked further down the dock. 

“Alright, well… let’s talk business.” he said, turning around as Tom made his way to his wife. 

“That is what we came for, didn’t we?” she said crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yes, we did-“ 

“Then let’s get to it, James. We don’t have all day.” Tom said, interrupting him as he fiddled with his wrist watch. 

“Okay, well… let’s talk about the trade. Your best partners in exchange for my incoming shipments.” he said squinting his eyes due to the sun with his hands in his pockets. 

“What shipment?” Y/n asked, taking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Some exclusive guns from Canada. Some drugs too.” he said looking at the couple with nerves. They stayed quiet, Tom drawing patterns on Y/n’s lower back signaling her to start asking questions to see if he mentioned Adam. 

“Have you done this with anyone else?” Y/n asked seriously making Jame look at her and then at Tom. 

“Yeah. A couple times actually.” 

“With who?” Tom asked, gaining a questionable look from him. 

“Why is that so impor-“

“Because we only work with people we trust and if you mention someone we have worked with, that means we can trust you too.” she said a bit harshly interrupting him in the middle of his question. 

“What she said.” Tom smiled, tilting his head towards his wife and taking off his sunglasses and turning around to look at the ocean behind him. Y/n knew that made James think, she knew he was going to mention Adam. ‘Jackpot’ she thought, smiling internally. 

“I’ve worked with Adam Matthews… multiple times..” he said fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You hear that, honey? He’s worked with Adam.” Y/n said turning to Tom which made him turn and walk to her. 

“Oh well, that’s nice.” he said as he stood next to his wife with his hand on her lower back. 

“Do we have a deal or not?” James asked, feeling uneasy. He was desperate to know. 

“Well, James we do have to think about it. We can’t just jump into these things. You know this, being a businessman yourself.” she smiled devilishly and looked at her husband, who was smiling too. 

“We’ll get back to you, James. Very soon.” and with that, Tom grabbed Y/n’s hand and started walking towards the car. Leaving James alone on the dock, thinking about what just happened. The first thing he wanted to do was call Adam, to tell him that his plan wasn’t working. What he didn’t know was that the Holland’s driver put a tracker on his car. His secret location wasn’t going to be a secret anymore. 

The Holland’s made it home with bright smiles on their faces. Their plan was in motion, everything was going smoothly. Plus, they had the whole day to themselves. 

“That went well.” Y/n said putting down her purse on the kitchen counter as Tom took off his suit jacket. 

“Did you see how nervous he was?” he laughed as he rolled up his sleeves watching his wife step down from her heels.

“Yeah. I swear, I saw him sweating.” she chuckled and turned to her husband who was staring at her with a smirk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said putting a hair behind her ear. 

“Your intimidating side is really sexy… and hot.” Tom whispered as he walked to her grabbing her waist and burying his face in her neck. His lips were soft against it. He bit and sucked on the sensitive skin to mark her, making her moan a bit. 

“You only find me sexy and hot when I'm intimidating?” he quickly took his face out of her neck and looked at her. 

“I didn’t say that. You’re always sexy and hot and beautiful. Just… today you were extra sexy.. and hot… and beautiful.” he smiled and kissed her lips slowly, teasing her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, making him move his to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss got intense immediately, both hungry for each other’s touch. Tom grazed his tongue on her bottom lip making her grant access. Their tongues battled for domination as Tom unbutton her suit jacket, revealing her thin bralette. Her nipples hard with excitement, poking through the lace fabric. Tom moved his hand upward, very slowly until his thumb graced her sensitive breast making her jump at the sudden contact. She parted from him to breath as she placed her forehead against his. 

“We should go to our bedroom.” Y/n whispered, making him smile. Tom then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to go upstairs. Once inside, Tom pushed Y/n against the door placing his lips on her again. Her hands went to his hair pulling it slightly as his hands went to her back to unhook her bralette. 

Y/n bit Tom’s lip sensually making him groan in pleasure. She then moved her hands to his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress making him fall flat on his back. He moved one of his arms under his head to get a better view of his wife who was starting to take off her clothes. She unbuttoned her pants, letting them fall to the floor which left her in her underwear. Y/n moved her hand to her back and unhooked her bralette, letting it slide off her arms. Tom was drooling at this point, he couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and perfect was with him. She slowly moved her hands down her torso and played with the hemline of her lace thong. He quickly sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to straddle his lap. 

“I wanna take it off, darling.” he muttered against her lips while playing with the g string on her lower back. Y/n placed her hands on his jaw, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His hand roamed all over her back, ass and hips. Feeling every bump and line of her skin. She started moving her hips against him, making his member grow in size quickly. A moan got caught up in her throat as Tom’s hard member rubbed against her bundle of nerves. He quickly turned, getting Y/n under him to start grinding harder on her making her whimper in desperation. 

“Don’t tease anymore, please. I want you.” she moaned against his lips making him groan and stand up. Tom quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. He looked up and saw his wife biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together to create some kind of friction. That almost made him cum right then and there. Y/n sat back up as Tom leaned down which made her grab his face to pull him into a kiss. Her legs immediately opened making him fall between them perfectly. Her nails scratched his back muscles yearning for him to be inside her. His lips moved to her neck, down to her breast onto her stomach.

“Baby, I don't want foreplay.” she whimpered making him look up at her and smirk.

“No foreplay?” 

“No, I need you… please.”  she said against his lips as he climbed on top of her once again. Tom grabbed his member and aligned it with her entranced. She was soaking wet which helped him slide in easily. Y/n gasped as he stretched her out the deeper he went. He halted his movements letting her get used to the size. Of course, this isn't their first time but every time was just as overwhelming. 

“You okay?” he whispered against her lips making her nod and give him a peck. Tom moved his hips back and moved them forward again making Y/n moan. One of her hands stayed on his hair and the other went down to his ass to give him a squeeze, making him go faster. His pace became faster as he sucked her right nipple making her moan into his ear. 

“Oh my- fuck, Tom.” the room was filled with moans and praises as his pace continued to go faster. He groaned into her neck as she clenched around him making his dick twitch inside. Y/n started to move her hips trying to meet his thrusts. Her back arched as his member hit her g-spot repeatedly. 

“Fuck, darling. You feel- fuck- so good.” he groaned as she gave him pornographic moans which made him go faster. Slapping sounds filled the room as Y/n clenched around him. He suddenly pulled away making her open her eyes quickly, giving him a questionable look. 

“I want you on top of me.” he whispered, making her bite her lip as he moved to sit against the headboard. She straddled his waist and licked her hand, gaining a confused look from her husband. Y/n grabbed Tom’s hard member and started moving her hand up and down slowly, running her thumb over the tip. 

“Fuck.” he groaned placing his hands on her hips, watching his wife’s move a bit faster. After a few more hand movements, Y/n moved forward and lowered herself onto the hard member. She went slowly, feeling him stretch her a lot more from this position. Her head fell back with a moan as Tom attacked her neck and chest. She moved her hips inna circling motion, then started to lift them up and down. He moved his hands to her ass, helping her with the pace. 

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good, so tight.” he said against her breast as he licked and bit her sensitive nipple. She placed her hands on his chest for leverage to bounce faster, making her tits move up and down. Tom looked up at her in awe, pieces of hair falling from her bun, her face expressing an intense feeling of pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned his name over and over. He was so whipped for her. Her entrance got tighter as she got closer to her climax. 

“Baby… I’m close.” she whimpered into his neck getting lost in the feeling. 

“Come around me, darling. Fuck- please, I wanna feel ya.” he muttered into her shoulder after biting it. He then moved to grab her ass and thrust fast into her making her scream. 

“Oh fuck!” she moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than before. Her moans got louder as his movements got faster until they both reached their climax. Y/n fell on top of Tom, both of them completely out of breath. She slowly rolled off of him and closed her eyes. They stayed there for a bit, regaining their breaths. Y/n then sat up and wobbled to the bathroom making Tom giggle.

“Shut up, Holland!” she shouted from the toilet making him laugh more. She walked out and got into bed with him, laying her head on his chest while their legs tangled up together. 

“I love you.” he muttered with his lip on her hairline as she drew patterns on his chest. 

“I love you too.” she said looking up at him, then moving to peck him on the lips. 

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we have to check the tracker.” Tom said, playing with her hands.

“I know… but can we stay like this longer? We can check it later, my computer is right there.” she said softly pointing at her dresser. 

“Alright then.” he mumbled and pulled her closed feeling each other's skin. They stayed that way for a few hours. Talking about random things about their childhood, the places they wanna travel to and just things they love about each other. The couple was in the middle of a conversation when Tom’s phone started ringing. It was Harrison. He then took his arms off of Y/n and stretched to the side to grab the phone. 

“Hey, mate.”

“Tom, where are you?” 

“I’m at home, why?” he asked, smiling looking at his wife who was staring at him with heart eyes. 

“Get your ass to Le Royale, right now!” 

“Why? what’s going on?” 

“James Cavanaugh is dead.” 

“What?!” Tom shouted, making Y/n sit up. 

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed 

‘James.’ he mouthed back leaving her confused as he listened to Harrison rant. 

“They found him in Adam’s office this morning.”

“Where’s Adam?”

“Nobody knows. We have to be really careful, Tom. No one is safe right now.”

mr&mrs.h: @ilovefandoms102​ @themaddies-obx​ @guillerminacaba​ @teenwishes08​ @runawayolives​ @theartisticqueen​ @quacksonlover81​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @spidernerdsblog​

[carriagelamp]

Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

[pregnant-piggy]

Mum’s getting married again

Blaise Zabini x reader

words: 10.1k 

warnings: light swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, crappy mother-son relationship, making out scene

written for @sleep-i-ness​ writing challenge

prompts: ‘This, right here, is where I’m meant to be.’ and ‘Kiss me, you idiot.’

A/N: I’m finally back! I worked hard on this in the past two weeks and I am quite proud of it, I hope you will like it too!

The chill of the fridge fell on your bare legs as you opened the door, searching for the juice that you swore you had bought last week. The upper half of your body was hidden behind the open door and the other half stuck out, revealing your pyjama shorts and bare legs with your feet in socks to anyone who’d walk into the kitchen. Humming a song to yourself you pushed aside the eggs and butter, having found the juice in the back of the fridge.

Someone behind you cleared their throat and you jumped up, almost hitting your head on the top shelf. With an angry frown on your face you turned around and met eyes with your roommate, Blaise. He had a smirk on his mouth at your annoyed face.

The tendency to make a rude comment left your mind as you noticed he had a pink letter in his hand. You raised your eyebrow and nodded to the letter, while you closed the fridge with your hip. ‘Got a letter from your lover?’

Blaise rolled his eyes and he took place at the breakfast table in front of you, waving the letter through the air. ‘It’s from my mum,’ he said plainly.

‘What’s she written ‘bout?’ you asked, taking a bite from your toast. ‘And why is it pink?’

Blaise sighed and he tossed the letter over to you. It landed right in front of your plate and you lowered your toast to look at it. While Blaise got up from his chair and walked to the kitchen counter, you took up the letter and read what it said.

‘She’s getting married?’ you asked surprised, after realising that it wasn’t a letter but a wedding invitation. ‘Again?’

Even with his back to you, it was clear to you what Blaise’s facial expression was. Though he didn’t hate his mother, the relationship with her was not what you would call good. In the past Blaise had tried to get closer to his mother, but after she had left all attempts cold he had given up. Now there was a letter every once in a while and she came over for his birthday once a year. That was, if she didn’t forget.

As Blaise’s best friend you had stood by his side and had watched how much effort Blaise had put in repairing the bond with his mother and how much pain it had caused him. You had seen him slowly grow numb over the issue until the point where he was now; completely indifferent. Or at least, that was what he wanted you to believe. Being Blaise’s friend had learned you to look further than he let out to anyone and you could see that the issue with his mother still made him angry and disappointed. But as long as he didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t push on the subject.

‘Did you know she was dating anyone?’ you asked carefully, after you had read the entire invitation. ‘Has she ever mentioned—what’s his name?’

A denying grunt came from Blaise as he shrugged. He turned around and you saw the grimace on his face, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. You offered him a reassuring smile and poured yourself a glass of juice, giving him some time to recollect himself.

After a minute he sat back down at the table and stole a slice of toast from your plate. You didn’t even bother to make a notion of it and gestured to the letter, silently asking him what he was going to do about it. Blaise stayed silent for a while and his brows scrunched together as he thought. With a faint smile you watched Blaise’s concentrated face, admiring how his eyes squeezed closer and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

Anyone would be a fool to deny Blaise was handsome. Although you weren’t a fool in that respect, you knew that the feelings you were harbouring for your best friend were nothing but foolish. At first you had thought it was just something that would disappear after a while; just a crush. Nevertheless, time passed and the crush did not go nor fade. In contrary, the feelings only grew more intense to the point where you cursed yourself every day when you woke up for not being able to control yourself. With every sign you thought you got from him, you had to remind yourself that Blaise was just your friend.

Yet, you couldn’t help but admire the man that was sitting in front of you in moments like these. There was no harm in that, you figured. The worst thing that could come from it was that Blaise noticed and his ego grew even bigger, if that was possible at all.

Blaise’s eyes glittered in the light from the lamp over the table and you shook your head and looked away. Instead you focused on the pink card that lay on its side on the table. The design of the card was simple; it was a pink background with golden letters announcing that the ‘happy couple’ would make their promises to each other in a mere two months from now.

‘It wouldn’t be the worst thing if you went,’ you said slowly, after Blaise had been quiet for a while. ‘I mean, maybe it is good to see your mother again. She wasn’t at your birthday either.’

Blaise ripped his gaze from the point he had been staring at and looked at you. A hot streak shot to your cheeks at his intense stare but you kept staring back at him, waiting for him to answer. You drowned in the darkness of his eyes and the sparkles that danced in them.

He was the first to break eye contact and looked down at the letter, his hands coming on the table to hold the card. His fingers played with the edges and he cleared his throat thrice before he finally spoke.

‘Would you come with me?’ he asked and pleadingly looked up to you.

Maybe this was the reason why you had fallen for Blaise; the softness that he seemed to wear around you. When he was around you he was more than the Blaise that he was with others. He was more caring, was not afraid to show his soft side and weaknesses. It may have costed you almost a decade to get there, but you wouldn’t want to trade this Blaise for any other person in the world.

‘Of course I will,’ you said and took his hand over the table. He shot you a thankful smile and nodded content.

‘You better look amazing because I don’t wanna get there with the mess I’m sitting with right now,’ Blaise said and his cocky smile came back to his lips.

You let out a loud laugh and shook your head. ‘When has that ever been a problem? I always look fabulous!’

‘Whatever makes you sleep at night, love,’ Blaise chuckled and he messed up your hair when he walked past you out of the kitchen. You turned around and watched him leave, arranging your hair and feeling the heat on the place his fingers had touched your scalp.

-=-=-=-=-

‘You’re going to the wedding with him? As his date?’

‘No! As his friend, you moron!’ you said, throwing a fry to Pansy, who was wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Together with your two friends, Pansy and Daphne, you were sitting at a table in the far back of the bistro, surrounded by empty tables. When you had told them about what happened over the phone, Pansy and Daphne had immediately called an emergency meeting and ordered you to meet them.

Playing with the straw of your drink you looked at the two girls sitting opposite of you. Daphne was picking the tomatoes off her burger, placing them carefully at the side of her plate, while Pansy was rolling her eyes at you and she threw the fry back at your plate.

‘You know what this means, right?’ Pansy asked and shot you a sly smirk. ‘Going to a wedding with someone is a big step.’

‘God, Pansy, it’s just a wedding,’ you said, throwing your hands up in the air. ‘He wouldn’t go alone and I think he should see his mom again. What else was I supposed to do when he asked me? Say no? You don’t know how he was looking at me!’

‘Was it something like this?’ Pansy asked and she dropped her jaw and made the most googly eyes she could manage.

‘That is actually quite accurate,’ Daphne snickered.

You stared at Pansy and tilted your head to the side, knitting your eyebrows together. Taking your drink from the table, you leaned back in your chair and shrugged. ‘What are you doing? Why is that accurate?’

Pansy’s jaw dropped for real now as she noticed you weren’t kidding and Daphne shook her head. You stared at your two friends, waiting curiously for their answer.

‘Sweetie, it’s obvious he likes you,’ Pansy said and her soft voice told you she wasn’t kidding anymore. Your eyes widened and you looked between Pansy and Daphne. The first one was giving you a sweet smile and Daphne took your hand over the table and gave it a little squeeze.

‘No,’ you breathed and you cleared your throat, trying to find back your voice. ‘No, he doesn’t like me! If he did he would’ve told me, right?’

‘Like how you told him you like him?’ Daphne asked and Pansy chuckled softly.

‘Well, that’s different,’ you tried, even though you knew that it was actually the same. However, the more you thought about it, the less it made sense to you. Blaise couldn’t like you. If he did you would have noticed; you had known him for years, you would have seen it. But in the back of your mind there was a voice telling you that he hadn’t noticed you liked him too and he knew you as long as you knew him.

Pansy gave you a comforting smile, but that couldn’t help the balloon that was growing in your stomach. Your plate with food seemed cold and tasteless and the drink in your hand was bland. After what felt like an hour, you got your voice back and leaned forward in your chair.

‘No, it’s bullshit,’ you said determined, placing your drink back on the table with more force than you had intended. ‘Blaise doesn’t like me. He can’t.’

Daphne and Pansy snorted and they glanced at each other before Daphne said, ‘Remember when he asked you to live with him?’

In the living room of your parental house you were half-sitting, half-lying on the couch while you stared at the TV on the other side of the room. This was the summer that you had thought would be the best of your life, but so far you had done nothing on your list and almost every night you had spent on the very same couch you were on now, mindlessly watching soaps and films. The days were filled with trying to find a cool place in the shadow of trees in the garden of the house and eating strawberry icy lollies. On some days you would meet with your friends and do the exact same with them.

This day had been no exception to the rest. In the morning your parents had dragged you along to a flea market on the other side of the city and you had been forced to feign enthusiasm on forty year old sticky tables and paled garden gnomes. The afternoon you had spent on the phone with Daphne, who was with her parents in France.

And now it was after dinner and you had stationed yourself on the sofa, while your parents had a glass of wine in the garden. Time passed by slowly as you blankly gazed at the moving figures on the TV-screen, not even registering what they were talking about. Maybe someone died, maybe someone slept with their best friend’s boyfriend. Whatever it was, you didn’t know.

The characters completely lost your attention when there were footsteps in the hallway. You lifted from the couch and leaned forward a little to see who it was. Honestly you hoped it weren’t your parents wanting to spend time with you; you had had your fair share of that already today.

So a smile formed on your face when Blaise stepped into the room. Muting the sounds from the TV, you sat up straight, creating some space for Blaise to sit. His eyes glanced at the TV as he sat down.

‘Whatcha watching today?’ he asked, knowing you were bingeing any series you could find at the moment.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrugged. ‘I wanna say something with a hospital, but I am not sure.’

Blaise chuckled and then he cleared his throat. You raised your eyebrow at him, noticing that there was something different about his behaviour today. He seemed a little nervous and his gaze was pointed at his hands as he spoke to you.

‘I wanted to ask you something,’ he started and his voice got smaller with every word.

‘Blaise, if you want me to understand what you’re saying you have to speak up,’ you said and you bumped your shoulder against Blaise’s. He looked up and smiled faintly at you, causing you to fill with worry. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I wanted to ask you if you wanted to live with me,’ Blaise said and while his face was turned to you, his eyes weren’t looking at you—they were staring at a place above your shoulder.

‘Live with you?’ you asked and a big smile formed on your lips. ‘I’d love to!’

Blaise’s face filled with hope and he grinned at you. ‘Really?’

‘Are you kidding?! Of course I want to!’ you exclaimed and threw your arms around your friend. ‘Oh, Blaise, this is amazing! Just when I thought you couldn’t be a better friend!’ You got up from the couch and danced around the living room with your arms in the air.

Blaise was watching you with a smile from the sofa and you felt a weird twitch in your stomach under the stare of your friend. You lowered your arms and smiled happily at him. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss on the top of his head and spun around when you pulled back.

‘I gotta tell my parents!’ you exclaimed and ran out the of the living room, leaving the giddy Blaise alone on the sofa.

‘So? What about it?’ you asked, slapping Pansy’s hand away as she reached for your fries. She shot you a hurt look and let out a whine, as Daphne shook her head and moved her chair a little closer.

‘You said yourself that he was nervous. He is never nervous around you!’ she said and moved her finger in the air to emphasise her point. You took her finger and pushed her hand down to the table.

‘And? I’d be nervous to ask him to live with me too,’ you said.

‘Yeah, because you’re in love with him too,’ Pansy mumbled, but you ignored her.

‘You gotta come with better arguments than this,’ you said, though you felt your inside slowly turning to believe your friends.

‘Alright, how about the time you got stood up by Neil?’ Daphne said, leaning back in her chair as if she had already convinced you.

The restaurant was filling with happy couples as you sat at the bar, nursing the drink in front of you. With every time the door opened you turned your head, hoping that your date, Neil, would walk into the place. He was already forty-five minutes late, but you figured that it must be traffic.

You hadn’t missed the looks full of pity from the guy behind the bar and the waiters that were walking around the place but you wouldn’t give up yet. Already on your third drink, you sighed and took your phone, checking it for the umpteenth time to see if maybe Neil had sent you a text.

There were no texts from your date, but there was one from Blaise, asking how your date was going. It was a thing you always did, checking up on each other while you were on a date. It had started after you had been on a terribly boring date with some guy and you had texted Blaise halfway through, pleading him to call you with an emergency so you could ditch the guy. At your next date, Blaise had jokingly messaged you and ever since then it had grown to be a habit. He did it when you were on dates and you did it when he was on dates.

You knew Blaise was on a date too and that you probably just should text him that it was going great, but you didn’t want to lie to your friend.

It’s shit, he hasn’t shown up yet and the waiters are giving me piteous looks.

For a second you hesitated with your finger above the ‘send’-button, but as you made eyes with the man behind the bar, you pushed aside all your ego and hit send. You saw the message being sent from your phone, arrive at his and after a minute it was read by Blaise. He was typing for a second and his message back came.

Wait a minute

A sigh slipped from your lips and you dropped your phone on the bar, taking your drink in your hand instead. For a few minutes you waited for a response back from Blaise back, but when none came you figured he had forgotten about it and was having fun on his own date.

When you placed your empty glass back on the bar, the barman came over and silently asked you if he should refill.

‘No, I think I’ll head home,’ you said, failing to hide the disappointment in your tone. You jumped from the barstool and took your phone. As you reached for your purse to pay for your drinks, the door of the restaurant opened again and against your better judgement you looked up.

The last person you expected to enter walked into the place. Dumbfounded you stood up straight and stared at the person.

‘You’re still here! I am so sorry, darling, my boss wouldn’t let me get out of the meeting. You know what an ass he is.’

Blaise wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, so to everyone around it looked like you were kissing. Instead, his lips were hovering over yours and you gulped at the sudden proximity. The cold from his hands sent a shiver down your spine and all the air was knocked out of your chest.

‘Play along to save your dignity,’ Blaise whispered and his lips almost touched you.

Without saying anything—afraid that all you would let out was a whimper—you nodded and Blaise let you go. He got his wallet from his pocket and paid the barman, flashing him a smile. As he turned back he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you with him.

‘Let’s go home, love. We’ll get dinner another time.’

Something about Blaise’s words put you back to your feet. You conjured a smile on your face and you glanced around the place as Blaise helped you into your coat. The waiters that had been looking at you with pity, now had looks of jealousy at the handsome man by your side. You couldn’t help but feel like you had proven them wrong and a genuine and slightly malicious smile came to your mouth.

With Blaise on your arm you walked outside, like nothing had happened at all.

‘Okay, what do you want to say with that?’ you asked as you were walking outside with Pansy and Daphne through a park, on your way back home.

‘He ditched his date to help you out!’ Daphne said and she shook her head as it was clear that you still had trouble believing her.

‘So?’

‘He. Ditched. His. Date. To. Spend. Time. With. You,’ Pansy articulated.

‘Any good friend would to that,’ you shrugged. Nonetheless, there was some part of you that actually started to believe that what your friends were saying could be true.

‘I love you very much, but I would not pass on a date because you got stood up,’ Pansy said. ‘Just because you have to pay for your own drinks once, I won’t ruin my chances to get some.’

‘Pansy, shut up,’ Daphne said and she nudged her shoulder with you. ‘Are you convinced yet?’

You didn’t want to give in to your friends so easily so you shook your head, making Pansy groan dramatically and Daphne’s eyes sparkle. She locked her arm with yours and smiled cheerfully.

‘Alright, this one you can’t deny: last Valentine.’

Valentine’s day was a stupid day, created by capitalist manufacturers to make more profit on their products, and had no meaning whatsoever. Who was Saint Valentine even? Just because some dude died on February 14th eighteen hundred years ago, everyone suddenly had to send each other cards and roses?

However, none of this made you feel any better about the fact that you were lying in bed surrounded by empty chocolate wrappings at nearly midnight. Your Valentine’s day had been without a date or secret admirer. Nothing—no card, no flowers. Just self-bought chocolates that hadn’t even tasted that good.

But maybe you could have gotten through all of that if Blaise hadn’t had a date. You knew that it was pathetic to think, yet you couldn’t help but wonder how much better this day would have been if you had been able to share it with your best friend.

Or with your crush.

It didn’t matter how you put it, everything sounded bad in your head. You knew that Blaise was just your friend, that he would never like you the way you liked him, but there were those hopes. Those damn wishes that you knew would never come true.

When the front door of the apartment opened, you—although you weren’t quite sure why—pushed  all the empty wrappers from your bed and brushed a hand through your hair.  Whatever made you do that was a mystery to you, but you thanked it when Blaise burst into your room.

The blouse that he was wearing was fully unbuttoned and even in the dark you didn’t miss his abs. You discarded the thoughts that came swimming into your mind quickly and looked at Blaise, expecting him to explain why he had come into your room.

Instead of an answer, Blaise walked over to your bed and let himself drop on it. He fell on your legs and you let out a whine, but he didn’t seem to hear it.

‘I take your date didn’t go well?’ you said, pulling your legs from under Blaise’s body. He crawled further on the bed and rested his head near your cross-legged legs. You patted his head comfortably and saw a little smile on his face.

‘You’re amazing,’ Blaise blurted out and by the double tongue you heard he was drunk. ‘Did you know that?’ He got up and sat on his knees in front of you. ‘You’re like an angel! So sweet and beautiful…’

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you shook your head. Although he was drunk, it did feel good to hear someone say those things about you. It was Valentine’s day after all.

‘Such an innocent angel and yet I can’t help wanting to do all those bad things to you,’ Blaise continued, a rasp laced through his deep voice and he brought his face so close you could taste the alcohol from his breath.

You gulped and your heart stopped beating for a moment, only to go thrice as fast as normal after. Your throat was dry as a desert and as much as you wanted to say something, you couldn’t.

Blaise had meanwhile brought his face so close your noses were touching. His breath stroke over your lips and he smirked as he looked at them. Your hands were clasped around the sheets around you and you didn’t dare to move.

‘I won’t,’ Blaise then rasped. ‘I want to, but I won’t.’ He leaned back and you took a deep breath, refilling your empty longs with air.

‘You should go to sleep,’ you stammered, even though your inside burned with curiosity.

‘Yeah, I should,’ Blaise said and, completely different to what you had thought to happen, he took off his clothes and crawled under your sheets. As he lied on his back, he looked up to you and gave you a cocky smile. ‘Well, shouldn’t you sleep too?’

For a moment you stared at the almost completely naked boy in your bed, until his dark eyes convinced you to lie down too. Awkwardly you shifted to the side of your bed to give Blaise some space, but before you had even fully closed your eyes, he had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest. His strong arms held you in place and you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

Blaise’s breathing soon calmed down and he fell asleep, but you couldn’t catch sleep. You felt his heartbeat on your skin and tried to focus on his breathing so you would calm down, but just when you thought you were drifting off to sleep, Blaise’s hand travelled down your body until it rested on your hip and he, in his sleep, pressed his body even closer to yours.

‘If that doesn’t convince you, you’re just crazy.’

‘No… I’m not crazy,’ you said, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

‘We convinced you?’ Pansy said and she stopped walking. You turned around to her and nodded insecurely. ‘We’ve convinced you!’

‘But how? When? Why? How?’ you asked, giving your two friends a desperate look.

Pansy threw her arm around your shoulder and led you to an empty bench. Daphne sat down on your other side and she took your hand, giving a nod to Pansy. ‘I think it is time.’

‘It is time? For what?’ you asked, looking between your two friends.

‘Time for the plan,’ Pansy said.

‘What plan?’

‘Just listen…’

-=-=-=-=-

It was the afternoon of the wedding; you would leave in ten minutes. Time had flown by the past two months. Now you knew Blaise liked you back, everything had changed in the dynamic between the two of you. It took great effort not to give in and just kiss him when he was lying on the couch late at night or to place your hands on his chest when he came out of the shower. But you had to wait. Only for a few more minutes now.

You were standing in front of your mirror, looking at the dress Pansy and Daphne had given to you. The dress was part one of the plan that your friends had come up with and that they had been drilling into you for the past two months.

If you were honest, you liked the dress. It wasn’t something that you would usually go with, but Pansy and Daphne had good taste—you had to give them that. The light green colour of the dress matched perfectly with your skintone. Tight were it accentuated your curves and just revealing enough to make people wonder. With the high black heels you were a few centimetres taller, though Blaise was still bigger than you.

Your hair was tied up, bringing the attention to your shoulders and bare back. The thin straps of the dress rolled over your skin as you brought up your arms to put the final touches to your make-up. That wasn’t much different from any other day; you didn’t want to be like a completely different person all of a sudden.

Around your neck was the necklace that Blaise had given you for your last birthday. You could still feel how his fingers had stroked on the back of your neck when he had put on the piece of jewellery that day.

‘Are you almost-’

Blaise walked into your room but stopped talking as soon as he saw you. His eyes widened and he gulped visibly. With your sweetest smile you turned around to him and giggled at his baffled face. He seemed to recollect himself quickly, but you saw there was still a faint lingering in his eyes.

However, you weren’t done yet. You walked closer to Blaise, with the same innocent smile on your lips and when you were in front of him you turned around, showing him the open back of your dress.

‘Would you do me?’ you asked and although you could not see Blaise, you heard he sucked in his breath.

‘What?’

‘Would you do me up?’ you asked again and Blaise let out a quivering breath. His hot breath on your skin caused the blood to rush to your cheeks and you were lucky Blaise couldn’t see your face.

Blaise’s fingers started at the top of the dress and they ran down the zipper, until they had reached the bottom. He placed one hand carefully on the top of your bum while the other pulled up the zipper slowly. His movements were slow and your breath hitched in your throat at the burning feeling on your skin.

The hands stayed in their position a second longer than was necessary and you could not help the smile that formed on your lips. Once again you had to hold yourself back, even though all you wanted right now was for Blaise to unzip your dress again.

The moment had caused the air in the room to grow thick and you had to swallow away the lump in your throat before you turned around to Blaise and smiled at him.

‘Ready?’  

-=-=-=-=-

The hotel where the wedding would be was beautiful. Although you knew that Blaise’s mother had the fair share of her ex-husbands’ wealth, she never failed to amaze you with what she spent her money on. Whether it was lunch at one of the fanciest restaurants of the city or expensive gifts for Blaise’s birthday. Everything she did had to show how wealthy she was.

Just like the wedding. As you walked into the lobby of the hotel you were astonished by the beauty of it. It was like taking a step into the world you knew you would never fit in. Marble floors, glass all around, the biggest flower ornaments. All the people around you were dressed up in fancy clothes and in your dress you felt out of place between the women with jackets and shawls.

Blaise seemed to notice your discomfort and he placed his arm around your shoulder, taking you with him following the direction from a sign that told where the wedding was. You walked through hallways with high ceilings and chandeliers and passed rooms with golden frames around the doors.

‘This place is beautiful,’ you said and Blaise hummed in agreement. ‘Maybe we can have our wedding here.’

Blaise’s head snapped to your side and his arm dropped from your shoulder. For a second he stared at you, shock and curiosity radiating from his entire body, until you flashed him a grin and he relaxed. He let out a chuckle and cleared his throat, while looking away.

‘It was just a joke, Blaise,’ you said, bumping your shoulder against his. ‘But nice to know where you’re at.’

‘No, that’s not- I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t- You just-’

‘Relax, relax. I am just messing with you,’ you giggled as Blaise was rubbing his neck while looking for the right words. You pulled his arm down and took his hand, dragging him into the room where the ceremony would be.

There was a handful of guests already, chatting to each other with a glass of champagne in their hands. Upon entering the room, a man in a dark grey smoking approached you and Blaise with a tray with glasses and program booklets. You let go of Blaise’s hand and took one of each, while Blaise only took a glass.

‘Could I show you to your seats?’ the man asked, lowering the tray and when you nodded, he pulled out a little paper from his chest pocket.

‘Blaise Zabini and plus one,’ Blaise mumbled and the man nodded.

His eyes slid over the paper, scanning the floor plan, until he found Blaise’s name. ‘Ah, Blaise Zabini, I see. Right there, fourth row, third and fourth on the left.’

Something in Blaise’s stance changed and the grip on his glass got a little tighter. His shoulders broadened and he straightened his back, but he managed to conjure up a polite smile. He followed the man’s direction and walked away, his steps a little harder than usual.

You flashed the man a smile before you ran after Blaise who was standing at the end of the fourth row with chairs. Carefully you placed your hand on his shoulder and the harsh look on his face changed when he saw you. You smiled softly at him and he huffed and shook his head.

‘Let’s sit down,’ you suggested. ‘Unless you want to talk to anyone, of course.’

Blaise raised his eyebrow at you, while you took place on a chair and he snorted laughingly when he saw you were joking. He sat down next to you and leaned back in his chair, resting his calf on his other leg. ‘Believe me, there is no one here that I’d rather talk to than you.’

Looking around to distract yourself from the stupid grin Blaise was giving you, you patted his thigh. ‘I wish I could say the same, but that guy over there is definitely checking me out,’ you said, feeling the smirk grow on your face.

Blaise’s head snapped around to look who you were talking about, but there was no one behind him. ‘What guy?’

‘Why? Are you jealous?’ you asked, raising your brow at Blaise. He was still looking around, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously, before they settled on you.

‘No, I’m not jealous,’ Blaise said, throwing his arm over the back of your chair, his fingers brushing your shoulder in doing so. ‘I was just curious.’

‘If you say so, sweetie,’ you said pretending you were already focusing on something else, but actually looking at Blaise from the corner of your eye as you opened the program and looked at it. He was looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, but he said nothing. A smile fought its way on your lips and you hid it by clearing your throat and reading the program booklet in your hand.

The ceremony would start at five and the reception would at half six. There was a little free time between the ceremony and reception for the bride and groom to make the pictures and refresh themselves before dinner would start. What the guests would do at that time was up to themselves but the reception hall would open and there was an open bar, so you figured you and Blaise would find a way to entertain yourself.

Slowly the space began to fill with more people. You knew exactly none of them and even Blaise didn’t know a lot, but he could provide gossip on some. You learned that the bald man in the second row was the brother of one of Blaise’s mother’s first husbands, with whom she had always kept in touch for whatever may be the reason. The woman in the seat behind you used to be his mother’s best friend, but she had slept with her third husband. The two children on the right side of the chairs, were supposedly the groom’s children, but that was never confirmed.

When all the guests had taken their place in their assigned seats, the groom and his best man walked into the room. The groom was a tall man with a shiny bald head, that reflected the light from the candles along the aisle he walked down. He was wearing an azure blue three-piece suit with a baby pink tie and puff pocket. He looked fit, a lot better than the previous husbands you had seen. And you had seen your fair share.

After the groom and best man had taken their place, the guests stood up when the music started to play and the door at the beginning of the aisle opened. Blaise’s mother stepped into the room and all eyes were focused on her.

She was wearing a beaded tight fit with a low neckline and small straps. Her hair was half put up and there were little crystals in there that glittered when she moved her head. Around her neck hung a big necklace with glistening clear crystals that matched with her earrings. Even those who had no sense of fashion could see that a lot of effort had been put in the look.

Blaise had stiffened up next to you and he was staring at his mother as she walked by without noticing her son. He sighed as he sat down again, while his mother took place at the altar and the ceremony began.

‘At least she looks happy,’ you whispered, taking Blaise’s hand and offering him a reassuring smile.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and gave your hand a squeeze, one that was a little too hard for someone who didn’t need comfort. There was a smile on his face, but his eyes stood sombre as he watched his mother getting married again.

‘She does…’

-=-=-=-=-

The room for the reception was loud and filled with people that neither you nor Blaise wanted to talk to. Together you sat on a little sofa in the corner of the room, legs pressed together, as you sipped your drink and watched the other guests. So far, no one had tried to talk to you and although you were glad they didn’t—for they did not seem your type of people—it did feel a bit strange. Blaise was the bride’s son after all.

Your feet were already beginning to hurt and you regretted wearing the high heels. The reception was approaching its end and dinner would be in just a while, but you couldn’t wait to sit on a chair that was more comfortable than the low lounge sofa you were sitting on now.

From your purse you could hear the sound of your phone and when you took it out of there, you saw Pansy was calling you. Flashing Blaise an excusing smile, you lifted yourself from the couch and stumbled to the restroom.

‘Pansy, thank god,’ you groaned as you closed the door behind you and after making sure there was no one else in the room, you kicked off your heels. ‘This wedding is awful! Blaise’s mother hasn’t even come looking for him. I’m not even sure she knows he is here.’

‘Yeah, yeah, who cares?’ Pansy said rushed. ‘But how is the plan going?’

‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘My feet hurt from your stupid heels and it doesn’t seem like he is about to budge any moment. Maybe the plan’s not that go-’

‘You better think again before you finish that sentence!’ Pansy cut you short and you chuckled. ‘Believe me, at the end of the night he will be putty in your hands. Just make sure to execute every part of the plan! Now, do you remember what to do at dinner?’

‘Of course I know. Pansy you have been drilling me for the last two months,’ you said as the door of the restroom opened and a woman came walking in. ‘Look, I gotta go. I’ll keep you updated.’

‘Okay, have fun!’ Pansy said and you said goodbye while you stepped into your heels again, getting ready to go back to the reception room again.

As you walked back to the couch where you had left Blaise, you noticed he was talking to someone. And when you came closer you noticed it was no other than his mother he was talking to. She had changed her wedding dress for a shorter white cocktail dress, showing off her legs in her high white heels.

Discomfort could be read from Blaise’s face and you tried to make your way over to him as quickly as you could, but halfway you were stopped by a girl that had had plenty of drinks already. She grabbed you by your arm and stopped you.

‘Hi!’ she exclaimed and the penetrating scent of her alcoholic breath made you almost gag. ‘Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I know you from somewhere!’

You smiled politely at the girl and tried to free your arm from her grip but she kept holding you. ‘I so feel like I know you! Did we ever, y’know, do something?’

‘Okay, honey,’ you started, stopping her before she could say more. ‘We need to get you sobered up!’

You glanced over your shoulder at Blaise who was still taking with his mother and tried to get his attention. After some attempts he caught your movements and he visibly relaxed when he saw you were asking for him to come help you. He said goodbye to his mother and rapidly made his way over to you.

‘You’re my saviour,’ he said, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You tried to ignore the fire in your stomach and turned to the girl in front of you. She was still holding your arm, but she was now looking at Blaise.

‘Is he your boyfriend? He’s hot!’ she whispered to you, her eyes wide.

Blaise cleared his throat to deny the girl’s question, but you were quicker and nudged him in his side. ‘He is, isn’t he? Lucky me, huh? Come on, let’s get you a water or something.’

You wrapped your arm over the girl’s shoulder and took her with you to the bar, sending Blaise a smile over your shoulder as he followed. He had a slight baffled look on his face and the corners of his eyes only lifted a little when you smiled at him.

-=-=-=-=-

‘That was a nice thing you did for that girl,’ Blaise said over dinner. He was leaning his elbow on the table, turned away from the person next to him at the table, and was looking at you while you waited for dinner.

‘Ah, you learn what to do after a few drunk girls in the club-bathroom,’ you said waving off the comment. ‘Sorry I couldn’t come help you escape from your mother earlier.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Blaise said, flashing you a smile that made your cheeks heat up. ‘You came right on time.’

Before you could say anything else, the waiters came with the food and your attention was taken by your plate. You had made sure you had ordered something else than Blaise, so you could without suspicion steal food from his plate. It was a simple yet effective move, all courtesy to Pansy and Daphne’s plan.

‘How’s are the asparagus?’ you asked innocent, after Blaise had taken a few bites.

He shrugged. ‘They’re alright.’

Without a warning you pricked your fork in one of the asparagus on Blaise’s plate and took a bite out of it.

‘Hey!’ Blaise cried out and he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from taking another bite. ‘Why’d you do that for? You have your own food!’

‘Yeah, but I don’t have asparagus,’ you shrugged as a smirk played on your lips.

Blaise’s grip loosened a little and you tried to bring the fork back to your mouth for another bite, but he tightened his hand and held your arm in place. You could feel your heartbeat accelerate and you were sure that Blaise could feel your pulse too. Swallowing deeply you looked up at Blaise, who was watching you with slightly furrowed brows. You bit your lip and Blaise let go suddenly, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a big sip.

A content smile spread on your mouth and you took another bite of the asparagus on your fork, turning back but keeping an eye on Blaise. He was staring at his plate and shook his head before he turned to you, giving you his usual grin.

During the rest of the dinner there was an easy conversation between you and Blaise. Once you tried to start a conversation with the people at the table, but after a few questions on your side they fell silent and you gave up. Not that you really wanted to talk with them, you were having more than enough fun with Blaise alone.

After dinner it was time for the bride and groom’s first dance. As the DJ asked everyone to gather around the dancefloor to watch the dance and so the waiters could clean the tables, you drank the last of your wine and pulled a reluctant Blaise from his chair to where everyone was gathering. Pushing past a few people you got to the edge of the dancefloor where Blaise’s mother and her new husband were standing in the middle, their arms wrapped around the other. The music started and a slow song played.

Letting go of Blaise’s hand you wrapped it around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. A rush of butterflies shot through your stomach when, without saying anything, Blaise wrapped his own arm around your shoulder. His fingers stroked the bare skin of your upper arm slowly.

They were a beautiful couple, but you, just as Blaise, could feel there was something off. You had seen his mother’s previous husbands and boyfriends and although this man seemed genuine in his attractions there was something that didn’t fit. Something about the scene didn’t feel right to you and when the music got louder, you realised Blaise felt the same because his movements stocked and he took a little step back.

You turned your head to look at him, letting your arm fall from his waist. He gave you an apologetic look and shook his head lightly, before he stepped away and disappeared in the mass of people.  

Quickly, you ran after him, pushing the people that were in your way aside. Only now you noticed how many people were actually at the wedding, as it took you a while to get through the rows of guests that were watching the first dance. When you finally stepped into the clear space, you saw Blaise leave the room and you followed him swiftly.

In the corridor to the lobby of the hotel you caught up with Blaise. He had taken off his jacket already and was struggling with his tie when you ran into him. A frustrated sigh came from his lips when his hand slipped from the tie and you quickly stepped forward, pushing away his hands and taking his tie instead.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked softly, not feeling the need to talk loud because you did not want people to hear you and also because you were standing very close to him. You loosened his tie a little and rested your hands on his chest for a while as he tried to find the words to say. His heart was beating fast; you could feel it through his shirt. When you looked at him, he swallowed deeply and you took a step back.

‘It just… it doesn’t feel right! I have seen this all before, you know? With all the guys before this one—it was the exact same. She gets sick of them after a year and then she meets someone new and the whole cycle starts over. I mean, good for her that she enjoys herself and everything, but I am sick of being involved in her shit. I don’t want to go to another wedding, visit another birthday party or housewarming.’ Blaise sighed and he dropped his head to his chest. ‘I know it is selfish, but I can’t help thinking it.’

You stepped closer to Blaise again and lifted his head with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. ‘It is not selfish. Actually I was thinking the same,’ you said and Blaise looked surprised. ‘I don’t think it is fair that you have to go through all of this. You deserve to be happy just as much as she does, love.’

Blaise smiled at you and he nodded slowly. You took his hand and tilted your head to the side. ‘Now, we could go home or stay here and get the money out of that open bar. Your choice.’

Blaise laughed and he brought your hand to his face, pressing a quick kiss to it before pulling you back to the wedding. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

-=-=-=-=-

The music was loud and the bass thrummed in your chest. The lights around the dancefloor changed the colour of the wedding hall in all the shades of the rainbow. On the ceiling hung a disco ball and it reflected the lights to all over the place.

Screaming along to the lyrics of your favourite song, you threw your hands in the air and moved your body to the beat of the music. There was a big smile on your face and Blaise laughed at you as you danced.

The smile on your face turned into a smirk as you heard Pansy’s voice in the back of your head, encouraging you to get closer. But, just as you were planning to make your move, someone patted on your shoulder. You turned around and were faced with a guy you hadn’t seen before.

The man had dirty blonde long hair, gelled back on his head, and his forehead shone with sweat. When he opened his mouth you were met with the scent of alcohol and you stumbled back, right into Blaise’s arms. He held his hand on your hips.

‘Care to dance, lovely?’ the man asked, flashing you a smooth smile.

Blaise’s fingers dug into your hips and you got hypersensitive of the closeness between the two of you. An awkward smile painted your lips as you shook your head at the stranger. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said. ‘I’m already here with someone.’

The guy nodded understandingly and he headed off again, disappearing in the dancing people. You laughed relieved and turned around to Blaise, while his hands stayed on your hips. He seemed to be contemplating something and after a silence said: ‘You can go dance with him if you want to.’

‘Are you kidding?’ you laughed, searching Blaise’s face for a trace of joke.

‘No, I’m just saying—I would understand if you want to…’

Finally making the move you wanted before, you placed your arms around Blaise’s neck and pulled your body closer against his. You brought your face close to Blaise’s, so there were only a few centimetres between your noses. ‘This, right here, is where I’m meant to be. Now shut up and dance with me!’

Blaise’s eyes darkened for a bit and the grip on your hips got stronger. His hands moved along as you swayed your hips and a smile played on his lips as he finally gave in and danced with you. Not once did he break the eye contact with you and you drowned in his dark eyes. The bass of the music was lost in your body as your heartbeat accelerated and it got so heavy you felt it throughout your entire body.

A fire was spread through your inside, coming from the hands on your hips. You didn’t know what music was playing anymore or who was around you, where you were. It could have just been Blaise and you in an empty room.

Your eyes were glued to his, fearing the magic would break if you lost eye contact. All the stars in the sky could not compare to the sparkles that you saw in Blaise’s eyes as he looked at you. A warm, strange feeling rose low in your stomach the longer you looked at Blaise.

The air around you was delicate and filled with electricity. But so delicate that it was broken immediately when someone bumped into you. You were almost knocked off your feet but Blaise caught you.

A nervous chuckle escaped your mouth when Blaise put you back to your own feet. A quick glance around the room was enough to see that a few people were leaving already and as another guest bumped into you, you turned to Blaise.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, understanding your look. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’

-=-=-=-=-

The streets were cold and empty this late at night and a chill ran down your spine as the wind blew over your bare arms. You rubbed your arms as you felt the goose bumps forming on your skin. Blaise was quick to notice you were cold and he took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

‘I told you to bring a coat,’ he said as his hands lingered on your shoulders.

‘And miss the opportunity to wear yours? No thanks,’ you shot back, an innocent smile on your face.

‘So you planned for this to happen?’ Blaise joked and you felt your cheeks grow hotter.

A silence fell and you stared at your feet while you walked. They had been hurting all day now and you feared your toes would be dead when you’d finally arrive home. To make things worse, the street you were walking in went upwards. With every step the bottom of your feet started to burn more to the point where you had to stop for a moment.

‘Hold on,’ you muttered, grabbing Blaise’s arm to stop him. You clung onto him as you lifted one foot, moaning in relieve as the pressure was taken off it.

‘What’s wrong?’ Blaise asked a little worried, giving you one hand to lean on while the other steadied your back.

‘It’s the stupid shoes,’ you said, now lifting your other foot. ‘They hurt like hell.’

You groaned again as you put your foot back on the ground, but quickly put a fake smile on your face when you noticed Blaise’s worried look. You managed a little step but with the next one you couldn’t help the painful whimper. Blaise rolled his eyes at you and held your hand back, preventing you from taking more steps.

‘Come on, get on my back,’ he said, stepping in front of you.

Not needing to hear that a second time, you jumped on Blaise’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his big hands under your thighs and proceeded to walk.

It wasn’t far to your apartment anymore and within fifteen minutes you turned the corner of your street. As much as you didn’t want to, you patted Blaise’s shoulder, letting him know that you would walk the final few metres. He lowered and you stepped of his back, pulling your dress, that had crept up high on your thighs, back down, not failing to miss the look Blaise shot at your legs.

The final steps to the apartment building you made in silence, holding onto Blaise’s hand. Without really realising it you had intertwined your fingers. Not letting go of your hand, Blaise opened the door of the building and he stepped in with you into the dark.

You eyed the stairs for a second before you stepped towards the elevator. There was no way that you would walk the stairs with so much pain in your feet. However, when you wanted to press the button, your eyes fell on a paper with ‘out of order’ on the door of the elevator.

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ you whined and threw your head back in your neck.

‘Okay, drama queen,’ Blaise said and he at last let go of your hand. ‘I’m only doing this because you’re in pain!’ He placed one arm behind your back and the other in the crook of your knees and he swept you off your feet. You squealed and immediately wrapped your arms around Blaise’s neck, almost bumping your heads together.

With you in his arms, Blaise walked up the stairs and even went so far as walk to the door of your apartment, where he finally put you down to get his keys from his pocket. There was a loaded silence as you stepped into the dark apartment, stumbling into the living room with Blaise behind you.

You kicked off your heels and moaned relieved as you dropped down on the couch. Blaise chuckled lightly as he stood in the doorway behind you. You turned around to him, moving to sit on your knees, and looked at him. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t really place.

Averting your eyes you played with the hem of your dress. You had hoped that whatever was about to happen had already happened because right now you didn’t really know what to say. So far everything had been included in Pansy and Daphne’s plan but they hadn’t prepared you for this part. Now it was all up to you and you knew that if you didn’t say something right now, you would lose your chance.

‘Blaise-’ you started but you were stopped when Blaise walked towards you and pressed his lips on yours.

A gasp came from you and your eyes widened at the sudden move. There was an explosion of butterflies in your body and electricity shot through your veins. Before you could do anything, Blaise had already let go of you and he was stumbling back.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, avoiding your eyes and taking a deep breath. ‘I just—I’ve liked you for a long time and after tonight I thought that maybe-’

‘I know,’ you interrupted and Blaise looked up to you in surprise. ‘Pansy and Daphne told me two months ago and they helped me to crack you tonight.’

‘Crack me? What do you mean?’

‘I mean that I like you too,’ you said with a smile and walked over to Blaise, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt. Your face was only mere centimetres away from his, his hot breath on your skin. Your lips were hovering over his, the smirk on them growing with the second.

Blaise’s eyes darkened at your closeness and he placed his hands on your lower back, pulling your body against his. You raised your eyebrow at him, your fingers toying with the button on his collar. A groan came from the back of Blaise’s throat as you didn’t move any closer to him, keeping the little space between your lips.

‘Kiss me, you idiot,’ he breathed, closing the space between the two of you.

The electricity that you had felt at the first kiss was nothing compared to the fire that started in your body at this one. Your skin grew hot as it ached for you to be closer, to feel more. Your lips were on fire and you knew right at that moment that nothing could ever be so addicting as Blaise’s kiss.

Blaise’s hands travelled down your body, slipping under your dress. His fingertips created electric shocks on your skin and a thousand tingles shot through your body on the places he touched you.

You wanted him closer. You wanted more. Never leaving his lips, you unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie. Your hands got familiar to his chest as you traced the lines of his muscles, feeling like you could shoot flames from your fingers. Blaise’s skin felt warm under your touch, growing hotter the longer you were in his touch.

When you finally pulled apart you were breathing heavily. You stared into the dark eyes that made you forget all your troubles. Blaise’s thumb stroke the smile on your face and you hummed happily.

‘I think I’m in love with you,’ he whispered, never breaking eye contact with you.

You nodded and brought your face close once again, letting out a quivering breath before you spoke. Lips brushing over each other and noses bumping together softly, you spoke in a whisper.

‘Good, because so am I.’

- - - - - - -

general HP taglist: @harry-pottery-barn @missmulti @kingalrdy @missswriter @figlia--della--luna @aspiringsloth20 @awritingtree @bi-andready-tocry @lilulo-12fanfiction @ananad1 @treestarrrrrrrr @your-hispanichufflepuff​ @thefandomplace​

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