#I’m actually so passionate about it ugh it’s almost like I took care of a loved one in my personal life and now it’s my day job

[loverboydotcom]

my brain is mush so i cant write prose but do know that i as usual am thinking about best friend dynamics and caretaking dynamics, and the way they integrate in beau and bobby’s relationship arc, and what it means to not just require increasing levels of daily care but to receive it from the person who’s always been your peer, the same guy you grew up with and experienced teenagehood and adolescence with, and now you need him in a vulnerable way you never expected to need from anyone, and how them being best friends shapes that caretaking dynamic in both positive and negative ways, but ultimately in the end it integrates with that friendship and deepens their bond in a way nobody could understand but just them

[franstastic-ideas]

I guess I’m numbering these!!

LACONIC WANDERER. I learned a whole new word from you, honestly that synonym works better than saying “silent” or something, it adds a new layer of mystery. Maybe the style and spelling and vibe of the word. Ignis hehe, Latin for fire, that one sure is popular, granted I’ve only seen it used one other time, but def much nicer than other fire based English names.

Kotone, ah the Johto games always gave off a more justice vibe to me. I had to erase a whole spiel I accidentally went off on here, but it definitely captures the passion in those games. Even TR acknowledges that about the protagonist. Cute Pokémon name too!

Haruuukaaaa my 2nd fav, ugh weren’t those Pokémon Evolution episodes SO good for her and Leaf? Adventurous Darling!!! Oh she SO is, under the SEA into SPACE, the varied climate for Hoenn is BUILT for adventure. And v cute too, very lovable. Steven got roasted by his dad and Zinnia over the better newer Champ AND by Hoenn Radio, only game to have it too I think? I’m biting my lips to not launch into a rant about every girl and their region, you’re activating my Pokémon Fanatic side and this CAN get into deep meta territory if I’m not careful.

Candeloro!! Yes, Blaziken, giant candle, I can see it, very shaped. The whole loro at the end is very nickname-y, and I wonder if I feel that way bc of the nickname Toro by her manga counterpart from Pokespe.

Congrats to BW for being the only game to deliberately call the protagonist a hero of something of prophecy. Very battle-ready, good ol’ Unova where they demand active students for competitive programs but god forbid you actually fight for social change. You said every girl’s personality was different and honestly I see it, and it fits them and where they grew up perfectly. Throw them in a room together and it will be so interesting how the dynamics work. Gretchen? I had to look that one up, and it’s interesting. Even if someone didn’t know the meaning of any of these names, just the way they roll off the tongue feels like a name that matches each girl’s character. Vowels and consonants and all that.

I’m scared of this thing refreshing on me so I’ll continue in another ask.

So! Leaf was in fact the last of the girls to receive her title. I knew I wanted to use the adjective 'Laconic', but no matter where I looked, there wasn't a word to describe someone who happens to appear at the right place at the right time.

And that's kind of what she does? Leaf didn't set out to track down Team Rocket, she kept arriving at just the right moment to interfere. But Wanderer works well for her, because that's what she loves to do. Leaf travels at her own leisurely pace, that's her approach to life too. She enjoys stopping to sniff the Roselia, so to speak.

Kotone's was another one that took some time. I wanted a title that conveys her strongest quality, her compassion. She is ceaselessly gentle and kind, no matter how combative and rude Silver is towards her. Her patient attitude towards him also contrasts well with her friends' feelings. Hibiki is easily intimidated by him, and Kris thinks what the redhead needs most is a good kick to seat of the pants.

Even though Kotone is almost always shown with Chikorita as a partner, I think Typhlosion is best for this AU's incarnation of her. Kotone's Typhlosion, Eva (who is actually male), his name means 'life'. Fire doesn't have to only bring destruction. It can also bring warmth, and I feel that's something which matches Kotone's outlook. She tries to see the good in everything and everyone.

Haruka, I've always described how I see her as 'the perfect blend of tomboy and girly girl'. She can be both! She's traveled all across the region and has even gone to space, she's become the strongest trainer in Hoenn, she also collects Poké Dolls and performs onstage as a beloved Contest Star.

Similarly to Kotone more often than not being shown with Chikorita, Touko usually is given Tepig/Emboar as a partner. Without looking at who her partner is in Sisterhood, one may assume from her title that this is the case here as well.

However, a Serperior is her starter! The 'Hot-Blooded' in Touko's title pertains to her being Reshiram's Chosen instead. I think if someone were to tell her that a Fire-type suits her better, she would respond with something like,

"My partner may not have flames on the outside, but that doesn't matter! The flames of passion burn bright inside her!!"

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Heeey! Can I request for the Father of Mine universe? Something along the lines of hickeys, maybe smeared lipstick all over their faces at an event, family dinner or something like that?

“Just skip it and stay here with me,” Jason offered as he leaned against the bathroom frame, shirtless and with his arms crossed.

He had been watching Y/N get ready for at least 15 minutes.

She was currently putting on blood red lipstick that went perfectly with her black winged eyeliner.

Jason wasn’t a big lipstick guy – mostly because it prevented him from kissing his girlfriend the way he wanted to. But he couldn’t deny that it looked incredibly sexy.

“I can’t. I promised Bruce,” Y/N explained as she looked at him through the mirror.

“There will always be other charity events,” he answered with a roll of his eyes.

But he’d had enough of keeping his distance and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He started peppering kisses on her shoulders since her dress was leaving the skin completely exposed and he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know,” she began, “you could always come with me.”

Jason stopped his kissing.

“Guess that’s a no?” Y/N sighed with a shy grin.

But she didn’t really care.

Y/N understood that Jason hated these events. To be honest, she might hate them just as much. But Bruce kept asking her and she tried to go when she could. Sometimes she needed breaks and her father understood that.

Jason ignored her question and his hands started roaming heatedly across her body.

“Don’t even think about it,” Y/N warned, immediately pushing him away.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Jason laughed innocently.

“Not yet,” she spun around and pointed at him. “But you were going to!”

“And is that so bad?” He asked with a crooked smirk.

“It is when I’m running late. And the reason I’m late is because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me an hour ago.”

Jason tilted his head and narrowed his eyes playfully. “I didn’t exactly hear any complaints…”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from laughing and shook her head.

No, there had definitely been absolutely no complaints from her.

“I won’t be there long,” Y/N promised.

Then she brushed past him and walked into the giant walk-in closet.

Barely even glancing at all the shoes, she grabbed a pair that matched her dress.

“Can we order pizza or something when I get back? I’ll be starving.” Y/N asked mindlessly as she slipped the shoes on, using the wall to balance herself.

Jason didn’t even realize he was staring.

But how could he not?

The dress was simple. Just a little black dress. It was a charity event after all. But it fit Y/N like a glove, hugging her in all the right places.

Her heels were at least 4 inches, putting her eye level with Jason – if not a tiny bit taller. She would be above the majority of men at the event, except for probably a small handful.

“What?” Y/N asked self consciously. “Too tall?”

“No such fucking thing,” Jason quickly answered.

Y/N usually wasn’t self conscious about her height. She kind of had to get over that back in high school when she was taller than most of the boys in her grade.

But that didn’t mean she completely stopped having slip-ups. Slip-ups that involved questioning her heels or outfit.

Thankfully, Jason was quick to remedy such situations.

“You just look so beautiful,” Jason added as he stepped forward and grabbed her hips possessively.

Y/N kissed him. “Thank you.”

But she opened her mouth to give another warning.

“You’re gonna be late,” Jason spoke for her. “I know. I know.”

Y/N tried not to laugh at her boyfriends desperation as she grabbed her clutch.

“Remember: pizza!” Y/N called over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

————

Bruce and Damian were waiting for Y/N at the venue.

Dick and Tim skipped, going to these things less and less as they became fully grown men with lives of their own.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce greeted as he kissed her on the cheek.

Y/N was about to turn her attention to Damian and give him a hug.

“What the hell is on your neck!?” The boy cried out before she could.

She blinked in surprise, completely unaware of what her half brother was talking about. Self-consciously, her hand went to the sides of her neck, not sure what she should be hiding.

“Can Todd not keep his hands to himself for 30 seconds?” Damian growled.

That’s when it clicked.

Y/N had a hickey on her neck.

“Damian, lower your voice,” Bruce warned his son.

Meanwhile, Y/N started feeling hot from embarrassment.

“Father, make him stop,” Damian whined.

To her surprise, Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Damian, Y/N is a grown woman in a relationship. She can do as she pleases.”

It was the right answer, but Y/N was still sweating from the embarrassment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she quickly mumbled, before disappearing to the nearest bathroom.

But Y/N swore she heard Bruce continuing to scold Damian for his rudeness and for embarrassing her.

When she reached the bathroom, she lifted her head to see that she very much did have a hickey on her neck. It was perfectly hidden in the shadow of her jaw, which was why she hadn’t noticed it while getting ready. If she had, she would’ve put 5 layers of makeup on it to make sure her family didn’t notice.

Thankfully, she brought some cover up with her and quickly started going to work.

After 10 minutes, it was invisible and Y/N let out a sigh of relief.

She pulled out her cellphone, glaring at it as if were her boyfriend.

“You better start behaving. Damian and Bruce just found a hickey on my neck. I’m so fucking embarrassed,” Y/N texted to Jason.

“Who cares?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course he’d answer with that.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’d prefer not remind my father and younger brother that I do in fact have a sex life.”

“A healthy, satisfied, and passionate sex life *,” Jason corrected.

Before she could respond, he texted again with, “Did you cover it up?”

“Obviously.”

“What a shame. Maybe it would’ve kept the spoiled rich boys away from you.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jason Todd.”

“Ooo. I love it when you use the full name. Gets me all hot and bothered.”

Y/N sighed and tossed her phone back into her clutch.

She’d given up on making Jason feel any bit of sympathy. That man would never feel guilty about showing the world how obsessed he was with her.

—————

Jason was reading on the couch when Y/N returned home.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted before returning to reading his book.

“Ugh. I drank too much champagne. I have the worst headache.”

“I’ll order some pizza,” Jason offered and pulled out his phone.

Y/N sighed in relief when she took off her heels and then she collapsed on the couch, laying her head on Jason’s lap as he placed their order.

Without thinking, his free hand when to her head and started massaging it, hoping it would help with her migraine.

“Hmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed. “That feels better.”

“Order has been placed,” he confirmed.

“Thank you.”

“Arrives in 30 minutes.”

She didn’t say anything, knowing exactly where he was going with it.

“What could we possibly do with 30 minutes?” Jason teased as he inched closer to her face.

She opened her eyes and giggled up at him.

“Ya know, I heard that sex helps cure migraines…”

“Does not!” Y/N yelled out.

Before she could argue with him further, his lips shut her up real quick.

For as large as Jason was, he managed to maneuver his body very gracefully, until he was hovering above Y/N while she lay comfortably on the couch.

“You look beautiful with lipstick,” Jason said it as if it was law. “But I like it even more when I ruin it,” he added with an almost evil smirk.

It was hard for Y/N to have a clever quip when he said things like that to her.

“How about I mark you up even more?” He threatened.

“Jason…” she warned.

But they both knew Y/N was pretending to be annoyed by it – or against it. When in reality, she kind of loved how obsessed Jason was with the idea.

Just when Jason hiked Y/N's dress up and was tracing her legs, someone cleared their throat.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and actually growled. Then he quickly lowered Y/N’s dress and tried to make her modest again.

Y/N covered her face and groaned. “Please, please, please tell me Bruce is not standing at the window right now.”

Jason smirked. “And Damian.”

Y/N pushed her boyfriend off of her and sat up to face them.

There stood Batman and Robin.

Tonight was just not her night.

“You have lipstick smeared all over you,” Damian pointed out to Jason smugly.

“I’d say one day you’d see the appeal, but I’m struggling to imagine anyone ever having that kind of interest in you,” Jason shot back.

“Jason!” Y/N scolded in a yell.

Then she quickly turned to Damian with a sympathetic look, “Dami, he didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jason corrected. “What do you guys want?”

“Red Robin is missing,” Bruce stated darkly.

“So…go find him,” Jason replied.

“We need your help,” Bruce clarified.

Jason groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. But we’re setting some fucking ground rules from now on. I’m sick of you guys invading our personal space. We have a door for a reason. Use it.”

Bruce just nodded.

Then he looked down at Damian and with a glare, got him to nod, too.

“I gotta change,” Jason told them, annoyance clear in his voice.

Y/N followed him into their bedroom, to give them a moment of privacy.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Y/N sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“They spent all night with you and now they have the balls to interrupt?” Jason shot back. “And I want my damn pizza.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I promise I’ll save you some.”

Jason was in his full gear now, Red Hood helmet tucked under his arm.

He took in a deep breath, tension easing off of him as he saw how cute she was looking up from the bed at him. Her lipstick was half off her lips, but she still looked beautiful.

“Promise you’ll be careful,” her tone was nothing but serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason dismissed as he leaned down at kissed her.

"And be nice to Damian."

"Never."

Jason went back to the living room where Bruce and Damian waited.

“You might want to rub some of that off,” Bruce mumbled as he turned and jumped on the window.

Jason glared at Batman’s back as he reluctantly rubbed Y/N’s lipstick off his mouth with his gloved hand.

Then he looked at Damian. “Say another word about it and I'll skin you alive.”

Damian gave him a dirty look, “I’m not scared of you.”

–––––––––

Let me know if you liked it!!!

[d0llpie]

Angry confessions

Summary: You’ve tried everything to make Kyotani realise you like him but he thinks you’re joking

Kyotani x reader

Warnings: cursing

angst to fluff, mutual pining

a/n: i might make a part 2 but i’m not sure, lmk if you want one!

wc: 2.5k

Kyotani couldn’t stand you. Your annoying smile and indifferent attitude while he told you to get lost. Couldnt you take a hint? Apparently not as you continued to greet him the same warm way every time you saw him, slipping him notes during class and flirting with him. Couldnt you flirt with some other poor soul? he couldn’t handle it anymore, knowing you weren’t really flirting with him. Maybe you did flirt with others, that only made it worse, knowing it wasn’t just him who got to see your smile and teasing laugh everyday. Honestly he didn’t know which way was worse, all he knew was that he was sick of you.

It started at practise, he was used to Oikawa’s fan girls attending their practise just to ogle at the captain, that always annoyed him but he soon found you to be worse. Oikawa has tossed him a ball to spike down and you started cheering for him. He whipped his head around to see you smiling brightly down at him, waving. He was taken back, his scowl dropping for a minute as the tips of his ears turned red before he continued on with practise, trying to ignore your cheers everytime he spiked. You trailed behind him to the school date, chatting on about your day and how amazing Kyo’s spikes were while he just grunted and continued walking in front of you, trying to speed up. Every time he sped up, you did too, he wasn’t sure if you were just stupid or if you didn’t care that he was trying to get away from you but either way it confused him.

Since then you’d follow him around, having one sided conversations with the back of his head on the way to the gym, in between classes and sometimes even during lunch times when you weren’t with your friends. He wished you wouldn’t flirt so much, it was the worst part of your whole fan girl act. You’d compliment his hair, his spikes and his eyes often, it came out so naturally that it made him tense up and pause every time, trying to calm down the beating of his heart in his ears. Why couldn’t you just stick to fangirling over Oikawa? Kyotani could take you following him and talking about your day if it wasn’t for the flirting act. He even liked hearing about your day, it was cute to hear you ramble on until you decided to give him false hope with your remarks, sometimes even trying to hold his hand or rest your head on his shoulder.

~

It had been a few months now and you weren’t sure what to do. You were in a small cafe with your cousin Iwaizumi, opting to seek out the spiker for advice as a last resort.

“I don’t know Iwa, i’ve been flirting with him for months and coming to all your games to cheer him on and he doesn’t even look at me” you fiddling with your fork, huffing out dramatically.

“We’ll have you actually told him you like him or asked him to hang out?” you glared at his condescending tone

“I shouldn’t have to tell him! I don’t know how much more obvious i can get...plus i ask him to have lunch with me all the time” you sighed, feeling your heart sink. You’d thought that he didn’t like you, it was obvious at first that he found you irritating but overtime you thought he’d warm up. Maybe you were just being stupid, setting yourself up for heartbreak at your inevitable rejection. Still, you held on tight to the tiny bit of hope you still had.

“hey.” Iwa waved his hand in front of you, pulling you from your thoughts “I mean surely him ignoring you can’t get any worse if you actually confess right? Plus maybe i’m wrong and he does like you so you’ll actually make some progress” you hummed in agreement, though you were hesitant

“How am i supposed to confess though? He doesn’t even look at me when we talk, well, i talk..” you realised just how pathetic you sounded, how desperate. Was this how Oikawa’s fan girls felt? Ignorantly hopeful for someone who was out of reach? Well at least Oikawa spoke to his fan girls...

“Y/n...not to sound rude or anything, but why do you like this kid? He’s not exactly treating you very well..” you looked up at your cousin who was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Well he may not seem like the sweet type but i’ve seen him when he’s alone, he’s really cute when he doesn’t look like he’s on the warpath, plus i think he’s just shy around me and doesn’t know how to act around others, he’s sweet though, he doodles in his notebooks. Also, he’s really passionate about volleyball! i remember the first time i saw him spike, he actually smiled!” you giggled at the memory, blushing at the thought of Kyo. 

“Whatever y/n, you need to confess before i do it for you.” you gasped in feign shock “You wouldn’t dare iwa-chan~” you laughed at Iwaizumi’s enraged expression “Stop hanging out with Oikawa ugh” you laughed at him, sipping on your hot chocolate you’d forgotten about. 

~

Kyotani had woken up earlier than usual, deciding to go for a walk. While he was walking his mind drifted back to you, looking behind him half expecting you to be there talking his ear off about random things, making him blush with your flirting. It was cruel how you could flirt with him so shamelessly and not mean it. He so badly wanted you to mean it. He grunted in frustration, picking up his pace until he was running, he was running past a few shops and cafes when he saw you. You were sitting by the window as the sun hit you, his eyes widened, you truly were so pretty to him. He almost stopped running until he saw who you were looking at, Iwaizumi was there. Of course you’d be on a date with him, he was so strong and open. You deserved someone like Iwaizumi he supposed, someone who could actually talk to you, someone who was better than him. He continued running despite feeling his own heart in his throat, making it harder to breathe. 

~

“I’m not writing him a letter Iwa.” you rolled your eyes at his suggestion, looking out the window to see a familiar head of blonde flash past in a blur. “Iwa! He just ran past” you stood up from your seat excitedly, smile crossing your face. “Wow you’re worse than i thought. Y/n, you’re a simp.” You weren’t even offended at his words “i mean can you blame me?” you sat back down, “Yes y/n, yes i can. You probably want to go after him right now” although he was joking he looked up to see you staring back at him hopefully. “Oh my god y/n, fine! Go. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. “ You got up and hugged Iwa squeeling, “Thank you thank you, if i don’t come to school tomorrow i’m either crying about being rejected or on a date with my handsome boyfriend, bye!” “Do not skip school y/n!” Iwa yelled after you as you ran out of the cafe, heading down the same path Kyo took. 

As you passed by a park, you noticed Kyotani sitting under a tree, panting heavily. “Kyo!” You called out, smiling brightly as you made your way over to him, ignoring the frustrated frown on his face. “What” he gruffly replied, clearly annoyed but you were ecstatic to get a reply from him. “I actually wanted to tell you something!” It’s now or never you thought, this was a perfect time to do it, you were ready for either response, you waited for him to look up at you before continuing.

“Um, i haven’t really thought of what to say so i’m just going to say it, i like you. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me? You don’t have to of course but i really wanted you to know” you played with your hands while you waited for him to say something, silence was not what you expected but- “are you serious right now?” he was angry?, you tilted your head to the side “of course, i’m surprised you didn’t already kn-” “What is wrong with you? First you follow me around everywhere, flirting with me and annoying the fuck out of me, now this? haven’t you played around enough? Honestly i didn’t think you’d take it this far, that’s just low y/n.” the tone in his voice was enough to have you back away a little, confusion covered your face, you definitely hadn’t anticipated this kind of response. Despite your heart sinking at the rejection, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry as well. Who was he to talk to you like that. “What the fuck are you talking about Kyo. A simple ‘Sorry i don’t feel the same’ would’ve sufficed, honestly this is the most you’ve ever said to me and it’s this?” He was taken back by your reaction. You were serious? “Why would you try confess to me while you were just on a date then huh?” you furrowed your brows in confusion before it dawned on you, he thought you were dating Iwaizumi. Now you understood more of what he was saying, you opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted you. “Yeah, I saw. You can drop the act now it was very funny. Now you can fucking leave me alone and stop acting like Oikawa’s clingy fangirls. I’ll finally stop having to hear you yapping in my fucking ear all day.” he wasn’t expecting to look up and see tears rolling down your cheeks. “Iwaizumi is my cousin..” you whispered meekly before turning back in the direction of the cafe, running home. 

Kyotani sat there dumbfounded. You were serious. He just called the girl he liked annoying and clingy after she tried to confess all because he was too insecure and jumped to conclusions. “Fucking idiot.” he cursed himself out under his breath.  

~

He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t sleep, every time he closed his eyes he just saw that heartbroken look on your face, eyes filled with tears. Because of him. He groaned before going to his desk, he begun to write a letter. The thought of you never coming to his games anymore, you never cheering for him again, telling him about your day and that new show you start, even the flirting, he knew he couldn’t get through the day without it. You weren’t annoying, you were the only person who managed to make him stop scowling, he was relaxed around you.

You walked into your first class, finding a letter on your desk. Your eyes flitted over to Kyo who was sitting a few seats away looking away nervously, you could see how red he was from here. You tucked the letter into your bag, he didn’t deserve your attention and you were determined to not talk to him or look at him anymore. Kyotani watched you put away his letter, he frowned, you’d probably just read it later. He didn’t want to get discouraged so he waited for you during lunch but you never came. He was getting antsy, it was so quiet. After his final classes he was excited to go to practise, getting there on time for once, only you weren’t there. Instead he was met with an angry Iwaizumi “what the fuck did you do to her!” he boomed, gaining the attention of everyone in the gym. Kyotani looked down, surprising everyone “where is she?” he asked quietly, Iwaizumi quirked his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s probably at home or the cafe.” Kyotani looked up, running out of the gym ignoring Oikawa’s calls to come back and train.

You were sitting in a booth at the cafe, scrolling on your phone when you remembered the letter. You opened it despite your hesitation and began reading.

Y/n,

I used to find you irritating, i couldn’t understand why someone as pretty as you would follow me around and talk to me when i was so cold to you. I took your flirting as you either making fun of me or just you having a flirtatious personality so i would get annoyed. About yesterday, i misunderstood completely and i’m so sorry for snapping at you. I never meant to lash out on you and i never wanted to. I was fed up with the person i liked toying with me and when i found out you liked me back i didn’t believe you.

I’m sorry for hurting you, if you let me be yours i swear i’ll never hurt you again. I never want you to cry because of me ever again, i like you too y/n and i’m sorry i was too much of a pussy to tell you sooner.

I hope you forgive me

-Kyotani.

You smiled at the letter, looking up at the sound of the cafe bell ringing to see Kyotani, out of breath staring at you. You smiled up at him like usual and he returned it, moving towards you quickly. “Kyo-“ he cut you off, smashing his lips against yours, his lips were gentle despite the desperate hold he had on you, cradling your head in one hand and gripping your collar in the other. You smiled against the kiss, cupping his cheek before pulling away. “Hi” you giggled as he sat down in front of you, holding your hand on the table “Hi” he smirked at you. “Y/n, can i take you to dinner?” you nodded happily “of course you can handsome~” he blushed furiously and this time you got to see, you cupped his cheek again, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, only making it worse. “C’mon doll” he pulled you up, holding your hand as you exited the cafe, walking side by side as he intertwined your fingers, smiling down at you with a soft expression. How was he so blind?

[bts-weverse-trans]

210104 Weverse Magazine ‘Be’ Comeback Interview - Suga

SUGA “I'm grateful that there are still unvisited areas in the world of music” BTS BE comeback interview 2021.01.04

SUGA has this way of talking passionately with a deadpan look on his face. Full of passion about his life and music.

How is your shoulder? SUGA: Good. I think it’ll get even better once I take off this brace. Apparently, it takes several months for a full recovery, but I'm trying to get better as fast as possible.

How does it feel like to have resolved a problem that has distressed you for long? SUGA: First of all, I'm glad. The pain is one thing, but when my shoulders got worse, I couldn't even raise my arms. But when I heard that this might recur when getting the surgery at a young age, I waited for the right time and had decided to get it done early next year regardless of the COVID-19 situation. I had planned to get the surgery after the year-end stages, but I got it done this year (2020) because my doctors advised me to start preparing early for next year’s promotions and activities.

How does it feel like watching the other members doing promotions? SUGA: I can't say it feels great. I could see the emptiness because we've been together as a group of seven for so long. Not necessarily because I'm not there but because something that should be there is missing?

Is that what made you join the promotion as much as possible? You shot lots of video footage in advance and you even appeared in the Mnet “2020 MAMA” through VR. SUGA: Fake SUGA (Laughs). There’s this 3D studio where we shot it. I shot, scanned, and acted there, but couldn't see the actual result at the studio. I thought a sense of displacement was unavoidable, and that was exactly the case. (Laughs) I acted normal because it would have been aired anyway even if I hadn’t had the surgery, but it seems a lot because it’s aired after the surgery.

You must feel restricted not being able to go on stage. SUGA: The thing is, it's only been a month after I got surgery, but my absence on stage is so apparent. But my doctors keep telling me that I shouldn't be impatient and in fact, many athletes get a resurgery when they return to the field without proper rehabilitation. So I'm working on trying to care less. For the first two weeks after surgery, I felt so frustrated that I tried out new things. I even watched movies I didn't watch.

What movies did you watch? SUGA: I watched ‘Samjin Company English Class’ as it happened to be on IPTV, and now I have ‘Tenet’ on my list. ‘Parasite’ was the last movie I saw at a cinema. As the social distancing measures became stricter, I haven’t been going outside, except going to the hospital. I even eat at home. I'm also watching a lot of TV nowadays. Watching music shows like ‘Sing Again’, ‘Folk Us’, and ‘Show Me The Money 9’ made me think of what I should do in the upcoming days.

Could you elaborate on that? SUGA: A lot of candidates on ‘Sing Again’ are very talented but hadn't had the opportunity, and on ‘Folk Us’, I noticed that many took their own guitars on stage. I started playing the guitar lately and I'm having this urge to broaden my scope of music. And since my interest in the music industry in the U.S. grew, I'm getting prepared, studying English and all.

What fueled your interest? SUGA: In some ways it’s the most commercially developed market. You could lose the industry attention in a flash if it's not feasible. So in this system, you would try everything and that would be an efficient way. I want to do music for a long time, and to this end, I always want to learn more about the global music industry because I want to do music that’s loved not only in Korea, but also in the U.S., Japan and Europe.

Speaking of which, it seems BE was influenced from music of the past rather than today's trends. SUGA: I especially like impromptu music. I love the songs that were made in one take instead of being recorded several times. In this era of crossover genres, the desire to do better in music is growing inside me.

As the genres become more blended, the melody you use must be more important. Does starting to play the guitar affect your composing in any way? SUGA: I always liked using guitar sounds. And I have always liked the Eagles. If you play the guitar, it’s way easier to write songs because you can carry it along wherever you go, pluck on the strings to create melody lines. Keyboards are difficult to carry around. (Laughs) I usually work on my laptop but I had this thought that I definitely needed an instrument. It accelerates my work and improves my understanding of chords.

It makes me think you could intuitively make melodies. SUGA: It’s easier to write a song because you can intuitively make a progression and try many different things. During my work on ‘Eight’, IU had recorded and sent me a song from her phone. At the time I couldn’t play the guitar, so we tried to make sure we’re working on the same page when keeping track of each other's progress. That made me feel the need to learn an instrument.

This is actually before you started playing the guitar, but I found ‘Telepathy’ in BE very interesting. The varying melodic progressions between hooks for each member made me wonder if you wrote the melody intuitively for each part. SUGA: I tried writing a melody for the first time this year (2020), and as I started knowing the fun of music, it opened a lot of new doors for me. So it was kind of easy working on it. I just played a beat and wrote from the beginning until the end. Done. I wrote it in just 30 minutes. The song almost wrote itself. The trends of pop and hip-hop these days cross boundaries between vocals and rap. I like this trend.

When I listen to your singing, it feels like you’re hitting the beats rather than singing along the notes. So I thought perhaps you're singing as if you're rapping. SUGA: When you're rapping, you just think of the rhythm, so it’s like simply putting on a melody to a rhythm. To define which comes first, I think melody adds to it while writing the rap.

In ‘Life Goes On’, the lyrics ‘Thankfully between you and me, nothing’s changed’ are somewhere in between. It's not rap but it’d be mundane to say it's a mere melody. SUGA: There are obviously songs where the rap needs to be highlighted. For example, in ‘Dis-ease’ or ‘Ugh!’, you have to be good at rap. But in songs that should be easy to listen to, impressive raps are not always the way to go. Sometimes, you want smooth transitions without obstacles.

In that sense, the rap flow of ‘Blue & Grey’ was impressive. Rather than a dramatic effect that emphasizes each part, you extended the rap just as much as the slowing beat. SUGA: To be honest, this beat is difficult to rap to. The beginning of the song only has a guitar line, which made it even more difficult. I participated when we wrote lyrics for ‘Blue & Grey’ and I've always wanted to work on a song like this. It was because verse 1 talks about the theme of the song.

It seems you achieved almost everything that you wanted in BE. SUGA: I think it took less than a week to make my part in the album. After having written one or two melodies for ‘Life Goes On’, I wrote a version complete with rap, and liked it that I even worked on a separate arrangement and lyrics. Rather than pondering over the ways that might work, I choose to simply play the music and write.

Many creators are unsure even after they’ve produced good work. How do you get the conviction to release your work? SUGA: Many musicians are unsure whether they should release their music or not. It was the same for me, but the thing is, you’ll never release anything if you nitpick everything. For example, if we release 10 songs, we have a chance to unveil them in concerts or fan events. And sometimes, as we listen to the song, we think, ‘Why does this part that had bothered me no longer bother me?’ Some things might feel awkward at some point, but in time, it no longer feels awkward. Even I forget about it. So it's more efficient to fine tune, looking at the big picture, rather than thinking too much about the details. On top of that, during promotions, I don’t have the time to pick tracks that others have sent for 10 hours. It would be a success for all of us if each of us play and write a melody in their own time and collaborate with others on the details. So the way of songwriting has evolved in many aspects.

What motivated such evolution? SUGA: I think it evolved naturally. I've changed in personality this year (2020), as well as in terms of my interpretation and attitude toward life to the extent that I almost thought I've been rehearsing. How would it feel like if there were no stage to go to or anyone looking out for me? This thought made me realize the value of these things.

In ‘Dis-ease’, you sing ‘I don’t know if it’s the world that's sick’. Was it this lifestyle that changed your thoughts about your work? SUGA: Yes. When I was young, I had embraced the belief that ‘It must be my fault’, but as I got older, I realized that this is not always true. Most of what I had thought was my fault was in fact, not my fault. On the other hand, there are things that I did well and times I had been lucky.

‘I NEED U’ came out during a time when you were still thinking, “It must be me”. After the members put on a stage with ‘I NEED U’ in KBS' ‘Song Festival’, you wrote on Weverse, “It’s the same as five years ago.” How would you compare with back then? (This interview was held on December 19, 2020.) SUGA: We've matured quite a bit. And our stage performances have become more natural. I still like ‘I NEED U’. Just listening to the beat makes me sentimental, and above all, the song came out nicely. So as I was watching this and that when I stumbled across old videos. Watching them made me think that we haven’t changed much.

In what aspect haven't you changed much? SUGA: Before the social distancing measures got stricter, I talked with the photographer for BE, whom I had met four years ago. The photographer was surprised that we hadn’t changed much after all the success, even though he had assumed we’d be very different.

I'm amazed personally. I’ve had the chance to meet the members before your debut, but from your way of talking with members or others, it seems you haven't changed. SUGA: I think it's because we don’t give it a big deal about success. For example, it's incredible to be ranked first on the Billboards, but there’s also this sense of, “Okay, and?”

Even the Grammys? (Laughs) SUGA: When we got nominated for the Grammy Awards, we thought, ‘Is this real?’ (Laughs) Of course we were delighted, but it didn’t make us think, ‘We're singers nominated for the Grammy.’ If you're nominated, you're nominated, and if you get the award, you get the award. You don't get shaken by that. I know it's a great award and would be so grateful if we receive it, but we know that nothing is possible without the tremendous support of our fans. What’s more important is that the fans are more flattered than us when we receive a great award. So everyone's rejoicing, but it’s like, ‘Let's do what we have to do.’ We've been training ourselves to keep finding our places, so no one remains overexcited.

In ‘Fly To My Room’, there are lyrics that say, ‘This room is too small to contain my dream’, and ‘Sometimes this room becomes an emotional trash can, but it embraces me.’ I had this feeling that the room had been such a place and that you were accepting that you have changed. Then the essence must have remained the same. SUGA: It wasn’t easy to accept that we eventually change. But I think it's a good thing that we changed. What we did back then was possible only at that time, and we could change because of the things we had accomplished.

Then, what new things are you dreaming about? SUGA: I'm eager to continue doing music. Since all performances were canceled due to COVID-19, I had a chance to talk to so many musicians in Korea. I talked with legendary singers as well as people who are my contemporaries. Talking with them once again made me realize that I love music so much. Because music is my profession, I can’t imagine myself not doing it. I'm grateful that there are still unvisited areas in the world of music.

What kind of music do you think you’ll be engaged in in the future? SUGA: I was greatly motivated when I saw the concert of Na Hoon-a last Chuseok . I wondered how many musicians would actually be able perform and write music for so long like he has. At that moment, it occurred to be that ‘I want to be like him’. He has passion and desire, and most of all, he is a superstar. A few years ago, I took my parents to a Na Hoon-a concert, and when they watched the performance last Chuseok, they said it was way less impressive to see him perform through the TV. (Laughs)

That must explain your interest in a broader spectrum of music from instruments to composing and musical genres. Because you want to be doing this for a long time. SUGA: My goal is to continue doing music in any shape or form. In that sense, I have this great respect toward Cho Yong-pil. He takes the best sound there is and reinterprets it into his own. I think that’s something I want to emulate and keep changing and evolving so that I can continue doing music for decades to come.

The lyrics ‘Thankfully between you and me nothing’s changed’ must sound more meaningful for the fans because they will be listening to your music for a long time. SUGA: A month and a half in the current times must seem like a lifetime for the fans when we're far apart. I feel the same. But I think that's proof that we worked hard for the past seven years and that the fans have been passionately reaching out to us. I'm striving to get to them as fast as I can, and I'm eager to go on stage. I'm going through this because I want to be better on stage in a better condition, so don't be sad, and please hang in there a little longer.

Trans © Weverse

[topperscumslut]

Let Me Take Care of You (PT 2) - Topper Thornton x Reader SMUT

Set the morning after Let Me Take Care of You when Topper and Y/N wake up together

Smut/fluff

Words: 2k

You woke up in Topper's arms, stark naked from the night before. He still had his crotch pressed against your ass and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, as well as his head resting in the crook of your neck.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered into your neck, kissing it and making you giggle from how much it tickled.

"I love you too Top- what's this?" you smiled, seeing a table with a plate of food standing right next to your spot on the bed.

"I made you breakfast, baby. Cinnamon toast, waffles, some fruit, and uh, I made you runny eggs, just the way you like them," he flashed you a sweet, crooked smile, "I was actually just about to wake you up so it didn't get cold, but um, you kinda beat me to it." Topper planted a kiss on your forehead and ran his fingers through your hair. "Eat up, baby."

"Awww, Topper, you're so sweet!" you said, turning around to kiss the blond boy, him still sitting behind you in the bed with his arms wrapped around you.

"You deserve a treat after how good you did last night, babygirl. You're such a good girl, Y/N. Last night just reminded me how much I love you. And how good you make me feel…"

"I'm glad I could make you feel that way, Top," you mumbled into his skin, planting kisses along his jawline.

You finished your breakfast that Topper had made you as he put on a couple episodes of Parks and Rec, still holding you tight from behind as you ate and pressing kisses on the back of your neck and your upper back periodically, sending shivers down your spine. Once you were done you turned around to face your boyfriend, thanking him for the meal and playing with his hair.

You absolutely loved Topper's hair. It was so soft and he looked so cute when you would fluff it around and make it all messy, him giving you a sweet smile and kissing you everytime. After a couple more episodes, Topper turned off the tv and escalated the moment from a few stolen kisses and giggles here and there to a full on make out session.

Topper kissed you with love and passion, biting and sucking your lower lip gently every now and then. He placed his right arm on the bed beside you, causing you to gently fall onto the bed underneath him as he deepened the kiss, moaning lightly and pulling away every few minutes to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were, a string of saliva still attached to both of your lips.

"I'm so happy you're my girl, (Y/N)," he whispered to you, smiling.

His words combined with the make out session were starting to make your body heat up and your core start to tingle and wetten.

"I love you so much, Topper," you whispered, kissing his hand that was beside you on the bed.

He kissed your forehead. "I love you more, princess."

You laid there in silence for a couple seconds, Topper still holding himself up above you and admiring your beauty before he started to get off of the bed.

"Babe, I'd love to stay with you like this all day," Topper said with a sigh, "but I really need to take a shower." You whined, displeased. "Hey, don't worry, sweetheart, I'll be quick. Then I'll come back and we can cuddle, okay?" he asked you, playfully mimicking the pout that was plastered on your pretty face.

You agreed, and though you loved cuddling with Topper, that wasn't what you wanted right then. The night before Topper had been so sweet, so gentle - which you absolutely loved. It was exactly what you wanted in the moment and he could tell that. Sometimes you liked it more gentle like that. But in this moment all you wanted was for Topper to lay you down and take you, hard. You wanted your boyfriend to pin you to the bed and have his way with you and make you cum until you couldn't take it anymore. You were already starting to throb between your legs as the blood flow quickly increased. This wasn't unfamiliar to the two of you, where you would both be naked from the night before but with no intention of having sex but seeing the other's exposed body would cause one of you to become incontrollably horny. As you heard Topper switch the water on in the shower of the bathroom attached to your bedroom you reached under the covers and started to touch yourself.

You rubbed yourself gently and sighed with relief, eyes closing and mouth falling open as the pleasure started to build. Pleasuring yourself while thinking of Topper was nothing new to you, in fact often you did it on the daily. You loved that Topper's libido was just as high as your own (which was seriously saying something) and that he was almost always able to keep up with you in the bedroom. You slowly rubbed up and down your vulva and circled your clit, moaning at the sensation.

You were soaking wet at this point, making your self pleasure quite loud as your head sank into the pillow, your lip quivering from the intense pleasure you were giving yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and you couldn't bring yourself to think of anything besides how good you were making yourself feel. Waves of pleasure washed over you as you fantasized about Topper and all the things he had done to you the night before. You slipped a finger inside of yourself, gasping as you hit your g spot and starting to gently massage it, close to screaming at the sensation but clasping your other hand over your mouth so Topper wouldn't hear you. You knew he wouldn't be upset with you for pleasuring yourself, he knew you did it often and he did the same, but the thought of him catching you made you blush. Your orgasm was approaching quickly at this point as you fingered yourself, and you were getting extremely desperate. You didn't even hear Topper turn off the water and get out of the shower as you started to clench around your fingers, about to release until-

"Baby!" You jumped, seeing Topper standing in the doorway staring at you. His expression was a mixture of surprised and aroused, somewhere around the realm of entranced or amazed as he walked in on you working yourself to orgasm.

"Are you playing with yourself, babygirl?" he smirked at you, already knowing the answer. You nodded at the boy, slightly embarrassed.

"I can take care of that for you if you'd like me to… only if you want," Topper offered, shyly scratching the back of his neck.

"Please do," you moaned, slowing the pace of your fingers inside of you in order to hold off your orgasm until Topper was able to please you.

Topper quickly threw off the towel that was covering his lower half, making his way over to the bed. "You must have been so desperate, weren't you baby? You needed to cum so bad you couldn't even wait ten minutes for me to get out of the shower? You're such a good girl, you know that? I love that my girl can get herself off. That's so fucking hot, babe."

You squirmed as he threw the covers off of you, wasting no time and making you mentally thank him like crazy for not teasing you as he plunged two fingers inside of you while still talking dirty to you. "That's so sexy, babygirl. It's so sexy that you can make yourself cum like that. Maybe sometime I'll come over and just watch you touch yourself, how would you like that, babygirl?" You whined as he continued to hit your g spot, his fingers filling you up so much better than your own.

"T-topper…"

"That's it, baby. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good."

"Ugh, yesss, Topper," you moaned in ecstasy. The boy was providing you so much pleasure your vision was starting to blur and you could feel your orgasm approaching again. Topper continued to rub the spots deep inside of you while rubbing circles around your clit until you couldn't hold it any longer and released with a loud moan.

"Topper, that felt really good. Thank you, love." You planted kisses on his jawline and pulled him in close, his erection hitting your thigh.

"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. I love doing that for you. Now… would you like more, or no?" Despite how pleasured you felt, you still didn't feel fully satisfied. You needed more. You needed to feel him inside of you.

"More, Topper. Fuck me. Please."

"Your wish is my command," he whispered in your ear, pulling a condom out from beside your bed and slipping it on quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Once the condom was on he pushed slowly inside of you. Even after all the times you had done it and even when he was being more rough, Topper always took his time entering you to be sure he wasn't hurting you. You felt him hit the sweet spot inside of you before he even started moving and you could already feel your second orgasm fast approaching.

Topper started to thrust, slowly at first, and then more quickly. You could feel his cock noticeably pulsing inside of you, he was clearly just as desperate as you as he fucked you into the bedsheets, nearly screaming your name as your walls tightened around him.

"Ugh… good girl Y/N," he whined through breathy moans as he struggled to hold himself up above you, nearly collapsing from the pleasure. You could tell he was close to cumming and from the way you were feeling him in your stomach, you were beginning to feel the exact same way.

"Y/N I-I'm gonna… oh!" You felt Topper nearly release before stopping himself when you spoke up.

"T-top… n-not yet… I'm getting close… c-can you hold it?"

He nodded, clearly struggling to meet your request but willing for you. You could feel his dick growing inside of you, fighting hard not to burst. The feeling of Topper's cock getting bigger and bigger against your walls and him reaching down to rub your clit at an insane speed had caused you to scream with pleasure and tears were now streaming down your face from the amazing sensation. Topper felt the same, pleasure flooding his body and overwhelming his member as he felt you nearing your orgasm.

Topper was now whining with desperation. He needed to cum, badly. You could tell your boyfriend was having a really hard time holding it and seeing the need to release in his eyes turned you on more than words can say, causing you to hit your high and moan out his name.

"Topper, ohhh, now!"

The two of you came in unison, pleasure overtaking both of your bodies and causing you to scream each other's names as Topper pushed one final thrust into you. You were both so incredibly satisfied and sighed with relief after he pulled out, collapsing next to you and snuggling you lovingly.

Topper kissed all over your body, running his fingers through your hair. "Thank you, Y/N," he said "two days in a row you've made me feel so good. I couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. I love you." He kissed your nose and giggled cheekily.

"I love you too, Topper." You nuzzled into him and pressed your head against his chest, so at peace listening to his heartbeat. Before you knew it you were taking a late morning nap in Topper's arms, snoring loudly as he rubbed your head and fell asleep minutes after, holding you close, happy knowing he would never have to let his girl go.

[novamirmirsblog]

Stubborn

Genre: Fluff, hurt? a little angsty? Idk. you tell me ;)

Request: Yes

Word count: 1135

Warnings: Swearing, mention of drugs, injury, blood (I think that's it but lemme know if any more should be added)

This is the request: May i humbly request a Natasha x reader where R comes back from a mission all messed up and doesn’t want any help. R hides their injuries from the team but Natasha can see something is up. Later that evening, she tries to talk to R but they are stubborn and shouts they want to be left alone! Suddenly the reader starts coughing up blood due to internal bleeding and collapses. A worried Natasha screams for help while holding R. Feelings are confessed after R wakes up at hospital. Happy ending!

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted anon!

The mission had gone okay. It was a success for all intent and purposes and on paper, it looked like the perfect mission. Perhaps the paper should talk to your definitely bruised ribs and chest. Unfortunately, Stark's newest 'shock absorbent' fabric was more shock and less absorbent. You'd have to let him know that this was nowhere near the finished product he had promised. You'd do that tomorrow though. Right now, all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep the pain off. When the medics came to check you over, you waved them away, saying that you'd had worse and a bottle of painkillers would do just fine. You were hoping to just slink in unnoticed, have an extremely hot shower, followed by an even hotter bath and then pass out on your bed.

This did not happen.

Bless your team, you really did love them but when Stark decided today would be the perfect day to throw a little 'Congrats on doing so well' party, you wanted to scream. The only saving grace was that it was just the team attending.

The adrenaline had slowly begun to wear off and as you watched Peter's mouth move incredibly fast about a topic you didn't have the strength to listen to, you suddenly felt very faint.

"Sorry Peter, I think I had a little too much to drink. I just need to get some air."

"Oh sure - I'm sorry y/n - I completely forgot - you must be so tired from your mission and-"

You patted his shoulder tiredly and moved away before he could draw you back in with another conversation. Little did you know that a certain redhead's eyes hadn't left you since you came in.

"and then that's when- Natasha are you even listening to me?"

"Yes. And that's when you saved the kitten from the tree. Now if you'll excuse me. I think I need some air."

"But I was talking about the time Morgan gave me a makeover." Tony sulked. The sulk was abruptly replaced with a smirk when he realised who else 'needed some air'.

When Natasha made her way to the balcony, you had your back turned to her and were coughing. Your coughing fit stopped and you pulled your hand away only to see tiny red spots.

"Shit."

"I didn't know my company was that undesirable y/l/n." Natasha made her way next to you, leaning against the railing.

"Tasha! How've you been?" You nudged her and tried to wipe the blood into your hand.

"I'm pretty sure I should be asking you that question. Did you even go to medical before coming here?"

"Umm yes? Maybe?" Natasha gave you a look "Okay, no. I didn't. But it's not even that bad okay? Just some minor bruising. It's not like the time I got shot!" Even as the words left your lips, you could feel yourself slowing down, moving your mouth just took too much effort. That's when you were sent into another coughing fit.

"Y/n, we are going to the medical bay right now." Natasha looped her arm around your waist and tried to ignore the warm feeling she got by being so close to you. Now wasn't the time.

"Get off me, Natasha." You pushed her away and leant on the wall. "I don't need your help. I'm perfectly fine. I just-" You shook your head quickly, trying to clear the fog that was infecting your brain. "I just need to sleep." Apparently, sleep came a lot quicker than you expected because your vision suddenly went black.

Natasha's heart dropped. She didn't know what to do. She caught you before you fell to the ground but after that, she was frozen. She snapped out of her fear-induced haze and shouted for help. She didn't care how she looked, she just needed you to be okay.

~~~~~

An annoying beeping woke you up. "5 more minutes and ugh, turn that light off."

A low chuckle rumbled out, indicating that you were not alone. "Detka, I can't turn off the sun." Although Natasha would have surely tried to.

"Tasha" You reached your hand out and slowly peeled your eyes open. "What happened."

That was the wrong thing to say because her face switched from being concerned to pissed off.

"You didn't go to medical when I told you to." Her voice was low and dangerous. You had never been afraid of Natasha but right now, you weren't so sure you were going to make it out unscathed.

"I really didn't think it was that bad..." You at least had the humility to look a little guilty.

"You had internal bleeding Y/n. How is that 'not that bad'?"

"Okay so maybe it was a little worse than I thought but you're not exactly one to talk." You were offended that she had the audacity to shout at you when you remember multiple occasions of her walking around with bullet wounds just because she wanted to have a shower instead of being fixed up.

Natasha scoffed. "That's different."

"How. How is that different Natasha? Do you think I like having to find out that you're bleeding out because you refuse to go and get stitched up?"

"It's different because I care about you."

"Wow. You're saying I don't care about you? News flash Natasha - you're one of a few who I actually trust and care about."

"That's not what I-" You cut her off

"No no. I'm glad we cleared this up."

"If you would just lis-"

"You know I really thought we had something special Tash. Nice to know our movie nights were meaningless."

"THAT'S THE THING! Our movie nights weren't meaningless. They just meant more to me than they did to you. I came straight back from missions just to see your face Y/n. I didn't want to go to medical because I wanted to get to you as fast as possible. When you fell to the floor I realised I had to tell you. I've been sitting on this for far too long and today made me realise that. The thing is Y/n, I like you. Like a lot. So much that when I think of my future you're the only thing in it."

"I-" You didn't know what to say. The painkillers they gave you were pretty strong and words weren't being your friend at the moment. "I really like you too."

Natasha's lips reached yours and the kiss was slow and gentle, almost as if you were both afraid that if it was too passionate, it would break.

"I would really like to continue this but I'm on so many drugs Snoop would be jealous."

Natasha kissed your head "We'll continue this when you've come down off your high then."

[darthzero22]

A break

Hunter x Reader 

Between missions there were times when you could rest, and sometimes you were lucky that Hunter could rest with you. Those moments are the ones you appreciated the most. 

Added to the Masterlist

Warning: alcohol 

Being the partner of your sergeant was the most beautiful, but at the same time the hardest thing you ever experienced. It was beautiful because you obviously loved him more than anything in the galaxy, and he loved you in the same way; and the hardest part was that, Hunter was the sergeant, so he had more work to do than the whole squad. 

Every time you were able to rest before each mission, you appreciated it and took full advantage of it.

Today you thought the missions would cover most of the day, but to your surprise there was a moment where you could rest. You were in your room, sitting on the floor using your bed to rest your back, and you were reading a book on your datapad. You had a bottle of an alcoholic beverage you took from 79's, with a glass next to you. That was a good break, but it was going to get better at any moment.

“Well, that's interesting. Enjoying the life?”

You smiled at the sound of Hunter's voice, so you looked up and saw that he was standing in the door of your room with his arms folded and a charming smile on his face.

“You have no idea how much, my sergeant” 

“I can see that” he smiled. 

“And you? Do you finally have some free time?”

"At least for a few minutes, yeah” he looks at the bottle on the floor next to you, then raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Whoa, whoa. Where did you get that?”

"Oh, that drink? I took it from 79's the last time we went"

“Uh-huh. You shouldn't drink at work, you know that?

“I know, but... How about you sit next to me and we drink together?” you smiled. 

“Ha! You know how to convince me, cyare" he smiles again and sits on the floor next to you. “But I'm offended that you didn't offer me a drink together earlier"

You knew he was joking, so you laughed a little.

“Sorry. It's just that I saw you so busy, and you know I have no intention of offering alcohol to my sergeant at work” you put your datapad in your lap, and you give Hunter another glass you had there, because you expected him to show up. 

“Well, I'm the sergeant and I can afford to drink” he takes a sip from his glass. 

“Taking advantage of your rank, huh? In that case, what about me? I'm your cyare”

“I think I can let you drink on the job, just a little. Just don't tell the others” he winks at you. 

“Of course" you smile. “That's good enough for me”  

After taking a sip from your glass, you see Hunter grab your datapad from your lap with his free hand.

“All right. What were you reading?" he takes another sip from his glass.

“Well, nothing new. I'm reading the same book”

“Really? You've been reading it for a month. I even remember when you bought it"

“Please, you can't remember that” 

Hunter raises an eyebrow, but puts on a smile that showed you how confident he was in himself. You had your arms folded, still firm in what you said, but you felt you were wrong. You guys stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, until he chuckles a little and finally speaks. 

“You bought it at a store on Coruscant, and it was on sale. I know that because I was by your side" 

“Fine, fine” you lowered your arms. “You remember”   

“And you doubted it. That breaks my heart” he joked, and takes a sip from his glass. 

“Uh-huh. Sure” you smile and pull his knife out of the armband of his armor. “You have such a sensitive heart, my sergeant”

“Ha. You know that more than anyone else, cyare” 

“I know. That’s why I am lucky”

You were silent for a few moments, drinking, and you looked at Hunter's knife, sometimes even moving it between your fingers trying to imitate those tricks he used to do. Hunter rests his foot on the floor lifting his knee, and rests his elbow on top of it. He looked at you with curiosity, he wanted to see if you had improved since the last time he taught you.

“Your fingers are too close together, try to separate them"

“Like this?” you listen to him. 

“Yeah. Now try again"

You moved the knife through your fingers again, now the way Hunter indicated you, and although you did it better than before, you still lacked a lot of practice. Because of that, and because you moved your fingers closer, the knife falls out of your hand to the floor. Hunter laughs a little as he takes another sip from his glass. 

“Ugh! Really? Kriffing knife”

“Hey, hey, have more respect for my knife" 

“Sorry. But, seriously, your knife hates me" you joked. 

“Nah. I think my knife is actually jealous”

“Of what? You pay more attention to your weapon than to me. I should be the jealous one”

That made Hunter suddenly lower his glass from his lips to look at you with a raised eyebrow, and you had a smile on your face. He brings his hand to your chin to caress it with his thumb. 

“Should I worry about it? You're jealous of a knife” 

“Oh, I don't know. It's up to you to worry about me or not" you smiled. 

“Yeah, I think I'm going to worry, at least a little"   

Without further ado, Hunter breaks the closeness between you and joins his mouth with yours. You reciprocate that kiss, and bring both hands to his face. Clearly now the sensation of that kiss was different. You felt the taste of each other's mouth mixed with the taste of the drink you were drinking. 

It was a delicious combination, a delicious taste. 

You always made Hunter's senses go crazy, but now they went even crazier because of the drinking. You start caressing his face with both hands, while he had his hand now on the back of your neck, caressing it. You only broke away from the kiss to catch your breath and then brought your mouths together again, in a more passionate kiss. You were like that for a couple of seconds more, until you finally separate, and you smile when you see Hunter blink a couple of times. 

“Easy, love” you stroke his cheek and his hair. “Your senses again?” 

“Ha. Yeah” he lets out a big sigh. “My senses went crazy, again. I don't know how you do it"

“It's a little secret” you smiled and brush your lips on his cheek. “And it has become clear to me that I don't have to be jealous” 

“I'm good at giving messages” 

“You are” you give him a little kiss on the lips. “You are good at many things"

“I’m glad to hear it. But and am I bad at something?”

“Well... I have doubts about your learning method, you know?” you caress his chest. “I still can't learn those knife tricks"

“Oh, no. That's not my fault, cyare. You're the one who doesn't listen to me"

“It's not my fault! I have a very handsome sergeant, and that's why I get distracted"

“Uh-huh. It's not your fault at all” he said with sarcasm. 

“I'm glad you understand" you smile. 

“Well, you are unique” he laughs lightly and kisses you on the forehead.

Then you continued drinking for a few more minutes. Now you were with your head resting on Hunter's shoulder reading your datapad, and he was finishing what little was left of the drink in the bottle. You felt that this beautiful moment was going to end, because after all it was a break.  

“That was almost interesting" he was reading with you, because from the position you were in he could read your datapad. 

“Yeah, it was not the best chapter of the book" you put your datapad aside and move closer to Huntee, almost hugging his arm. “I'm glad you were able to come spend some time with me"

“That's what I wanted most, cyare” he rests his cheek on your head.

“I wish it would last a little longer"

“Me too. But I promise we'll go to 79's tonight"

“Oh, good. I'll be able to take another drink for another time like this" you smiled.

“I didn't expect otherwise” he smile. “You are the best, really" 

“All for my sergeant”

When you look at each other, with a smile on your faces, you start kissing. It only lasts for a few moments, and when you separate, you bring your foreheads together, closing your eyes. 

“Let's just not get drunk tonight" you said.  

“I can't promise that” 

“Take it easy, sergeant"  you smiled. “We have a reputation" 

“When did we care about that?” he smiled. 

“Good point"

[chaozsilhouette]

Moonlit Musings

The night is such a perfect time to face one’s darkest truths. Shrouded in the moon’s light what can one do but admit to their flaws. It can be a time of rejuvenation and rebirth, only if you let it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

It was a quiet night.

The full moon hung high in the heavens accompanied by millions of stars. Not a cloud to be seen, an ideal night for passions to run wild. Normally people would be taking out their telescopes or arranging romantic picnics.

Sadly, nights like these only filled Sun Wukong with dread. It was a night like this when he was finally able to return after the Journey. That was the night he learned he had lost a precious treasure.

When he returned, he expected to be greeted by his subjects until Macaque showed himself. He expected to be strangled as the pale furred monkie admonished him for his recklessness. He expected to watch as fury transformed into tearful joy as they embraced one another for the first time in over five hundred years.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The moment he set foot back onto Flower Fruit Mountain, he sensed something was very wrong. Like his previous return trips, his subjects greeted him with loud celebrations. The new mothers showed off their infants. The young ones wasted no time climbing all over him, taking in the scent of their king.

The immortal elders, however, looked concerned.

That was when he realized Macaque’s scent on the mountain was far too faint. Even the magical signature of his clones no longer felt fresh.

Macaque was nowhere to be found. The monkeys reported Macaque had returned a few years after he stopped by the mountain earlier in the Journey but not as his usual self. He didn’t respond to any of their questions. He didn’t even take time to check in on the infants. He didn’t say a word.

He just entered the mansion, but no one saw him leave.

Entering the mansion, Wukong dashed to their room desperate for answers. Opening the doors, he saw the room was horribly empty, sure all of his belonging were exactly as he remembered them, but all of Macaque’s stuff was gone. Macaque’s closet was empty and all his books had vanished. Despite his desperate hopes, there wasn’t any signs of a struggle or hidden messages to be found.

Macaque left of his own free will, but why?

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed they shared so many nights together. Every time he dared, he awoke expect to be greeted with the comforting warmth of familiar presence, instead he opened his eyes to a cold emptiness.

The lack of answers broke his heart, but he didn’t have time to start tearing the landscape apart trying to find him. Now that he was back for good, he had so many responsibilities to catch up on. He was determined to be a good king for his subjects and that meant ughthinking things through. Plus, he wanted to spend as much time with his master and brothers as possible.

Then there was the concerning fact all his previous allies had severed their alliance with him.

Apparently after all the fuss with the Demon Bull King, word had spread that Wukong broke their alliance by disrespecting protocol and attacking the royal family. Plus, his new position as a defender of humanity annoyed more than a few respectable demons. Combined with the sheer number of powerful demons he killed on the Journey cemented the idea that having an alliance with him would only end poorly.

He was banned from court meetings and the other kings in the surrounding areas wanted nothing to do with him. The chaotic nature of his past had finally caught up to him and in the worst possible way.

He was still recognized as the Monkey King of the Sun Court but was effectively blacklisted. No one wanted to mess with him, but they also didn’t want to interact with him. Not good for his mental health to say the least.

Simians are naturally social creatures. Wukong was used to constantly being around other people and learning new things. His time imprisoned was not kind. His first year of freedom had him constantly climbing over his brothers and master just to reassure himself that this was real.

And now that he couldn’t reconnect with old faces unless it was through a battle to the death…It forced him to delve into old memories. Memories that while sweet only made the emptiness more pronounced.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Sun Wukong smiled as he watched Macaque’s reaction.

The six-eared monkie was furiously pinching the bridge between his eyebrows after he shattered a boulder with a careless headbutt as though it would make his life mercifully easier. “You’ll have to explain it to me again. What did you mean by ‘no longer under Yama’s jurisdiction’?”

“Exactly what I said. I was napping. Having some time to myself, when out of nowhere some idiots tried to take my soul to the afterlife.” Wukong explained as though having entities of death rip out your soul to drag it to the underworld was no big deal.

“Bet you weren’t happy.” Macaque couldn’t help but smirk at the flippant tone. He just made it so difficult to stay mad.

“Not in the slightest. I barged my way to the top brass, bunch of cowards called the Ten Kings (totally undeserved titles by the way) and demanded what the fuck was going on.” He was still ticked off even if the payoff was sweet. Seriously! Did immortality mean nothing to these cowards? They couldn’t even play it off as him dying in battle. He was in the peak of his youth! “Can you believe they tried to play it off as a misunderstanding? Should have smacked the loudmouth when I was there.”

“So, through a series of ridiculous events, you erased your name from the records of the dead.” Macaque could easily piece together the rest from there. No matter how ridiculous the odds. He learned never to bet against his friend when a problem could be handled with brute strength or intimidation. If it didn’t look like such an answer was possible, clearly, they hadn’t experienced the force of a determined Wukong. Something about facing a ticked off monkie of practically infinite strength and invulnerability left harden conquerors pissing themselves.

It was hilarious.

“Not just mine. In my infinite wisdom, I erased the names of several of the monkey inhabitants of esteemed Flower Fruit Mountain, including yours.” Wukong playfully booped Macaque’s nose.

Turning away to hide a light blush, Macaque scoffed to cover his embarrassing response. “Typical. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something insane.”

“I know. I’m just that awesome.”

“So what? Are we now double immortal?” That was the question wasn’t it. Due to their master’s instructions, they were immortal and ageless, so what exactly would this give them? He didn’t feel any different. He couldn’t sense any new powers or changes in his instincts.

His counterpart, however, had other things on his mind. “Who cares. All I know is that those idiots have no control over our souls anymore.” And with that the King took his rightful place across Macaque’s lap as the other returned to his scrolls.

Wukong instead took the time to examine his friend, who finally gained enough confidence to fully drop his glamour and embrace his true appearance.

He still couldn’t believe Macaque actually had six ears. The weird part was how natural they looked, almost as if seeing him with only two was bizarre. The coolest part was how each pair softly glowed a different color. Blue. Purple. Red. Sometimes Wukong would just stare at them, imagining that he could see glittering stars emanating from that glow.

Suddenly those magnificent ears twitched. Macaque didn’t bother looking up from the bamboo scroll. “A trespasser...multiple, boar and vulture demon. Another hunting party”.

“Again. Ugh. Don’t these idiots ever give up!” Don’t get him wrong, Wukong loved a good fight. What better way to prove how superior you are to others than to steal what’s most precious to them? But even he was starting to grow bored with the sheer number of hunters that thought kidnapping his subjects was a quick cash grab.

After the fifth army he returned in pieces to the surrounding upstart lords, you’d think they’d take a hint.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only powerhouse on the mountain. “I haven’t tasted blood in a while. Why don’t I defend the kingdom while your highness enjoys a show?” Macaque set aside his reading material, eyes glittering with bloodlust.

Wukong returned the smirk with one of his own. “I’m always up for a good thrashing. One request: make it glorious.”

“Don’t I always.” Macaque joked as he retrieved his spear from his own shadow.

Wukong summoned his cloud and claimed a good vantage point. Once again, he marveled at his friend’s hearing. Judging by the distance it would have been at least three hours before he would have detected their presence.

Kicking back, he transformed some hair into a fruit platter and waited for the screams.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

To this day, Wukong knew Macaque was alive. Thanks to his efforts combined with the intense training, the monkie was double immortal. Besides, that monkkie was way too stubborn to die. He would survive purely on spite if he had to.

Macaque left, but why?

While he may have effectively isolated himself, that didn’t mean he didn’t hear about the other courts. A few centuries ago, he heard rumors about the formation of a new court by someone under the title of the Macaque King. Supposedly they were a powerful monkie who knew way more than he had the right to. For a brief moment, Wukong dared to hope it was his old friend, but it didn’t last. The few recounts he caught described him with black fur. Besides, he knew how much Macaque hated the title of King. Even when Wukong offered him the position as co-ruler of his kingdom, the pale monkie adamantly refused.

Still, he was curious.

For a few weeks he could have sworn he detected a familiar scent hiding underneath Mk’s. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the immortal monkeys questioned him on the mango infused scent and what his plans were. It was almost too much to take in.

To think he returned to teach his student instead of showing his face. It hurt just to think about it. He chose to ignore the beckoning scent until it became impossible to ignore MK’s leap in progress. Then it just vanished like it hadn’t been testing his patience. Like it hadn’t brought him to the brink of shaking the kid upside down until he confessed where his old friend was hiding. The kid probably grew wise, or someone told him to change his bathing habits, and by the next training session it was all but gone.

Dragging his hand down his face, Wukong tried to reevaluate his thoughts.

Getting mad at the kid wasn’t going to solve anything. He knew he hadn’t been the most attentive master. Hell, the whole hammer exercise at its core was a desperate attempt to remove a painful reminder of better times. His master would be disappointed in how he was running away from his problems, but would encourage him to take the steps to be better. Zhu Bajie would be a sarcastic little shit, trying to get him riled up so the monkie would prove him wrong. Sha Wujing would sit him down and wouldn’t let him leave until they talked everything through.

He had to make things right with the kid. He deserved a better master. And this New Years he was gonna get one.

He spoke, praying the winds would carry his voice to his Warrior.

“Macaque. I know it’s been a while, but…I-I want to talk. I know you’re out there, somewhere I can’t reach. I miss sparring with you. I miss lazy days napping in the shade by your side. I miss defending the mountain as we held contests to see who could take out the most trespassers before their common sense kicked in. I miss you. Please come home.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The moon was high in the sky. Stars danced in the heavens as the faintest hints of vibrations pulsed through the concrete from the late-night dance clubs. MK lay awake, his mind struggling to make sense of it all.

Ever since Macaque disappeared in order to remain undetected, he kept thinking about his relationship with the Monkey King. Sure, he was being trained and he was definitely making progress. The monkie was still on his case for supposedly cheating on him with another mentor. Nothing MK said or did could make the monkie think otherwise. Thankfully, he was no longer shooting him suspicious glares, but the underlying tension remained.

The sad truth is they just weren’t that close.

He would have expected to learn more about the Monkey King on a personal and emotional level, but he just couldn’t get past that wall. Their training sessions felt more like just the Monkey King arranged just to get it over with. There was no passion at all.

Okay, perhaps that last bit was an exaggeration.

When you peered past the arrogance and pride, you found one socially awkward monkie. It was similar to Red Son the more he thought about it, both seemed to find it difficult to talk to or relate to others in a friendly setting. Sure, Monkey King projected a friendly demeanor and called him “bud”, but if he didn’t know any better he could have sworn the monkie was afraid to take that final step.

The last few sessions had taken a bit of a turn in a positive direction as Sandy would say. Maybe Monkey King decided it was time to make a change? Maybe this was all a trick so MK would lower his guard and reveal Macaque’s identity? Maybe he was just tired and should have conked out an hour ago?

Maybe.

Reality was so different from the legends. When Tang first introduced him to the Monkey stories, he was hooked. He loved listening to the tales of the infamous trickster that flipped off every major religious figure with unbridled confidence. Meeting the Great Sage in the flesh was like a dream come true until he was exposed to the King’s less pleasant tendencies.

Mk couldn’t help but wonder just how much confidence the Monkey King had in his training skills. Did he ever train someone before? Could MK talk to someone about this without appearing even more ungrateful than he already looked? Why didn’t he stop Red Son from unsealing his father when he was there? Why didn’t he simply seal the entire family when they were reunited? Why did the five times immortal sage decide that now he needed to train a disciple? Was Monkey King not telling him something important?

He had so many questions and not even the foggiest idea of where to start looking. Or perhaps he did?

The truth was he missed Macaque. The dark-furred monkie may have only taught him for a month, but the progress he made and the level of care he was exposed to made him feel as though he had finally unlocked the ability to fly.

He missed the regular grooming. He missed learning about the demon community. He missed learning new ways to mess with Red Son through appropriate court manners.

Watching the fire user freeze up at the term “honorable prince of the Iron Bull Court” just made him laugh, when his hair combusted it really matched his face. Now that he thought about it, were those horns starting to peek out of his forehead? And maybe the slightest hint of a tufted tail swiping the bottom of his coat? Seeing the demon frantically compose himself was a treat he didn’t know he needed. He still had the video saved as one of his favorites, didn’t hurt that Mei caught it at the perfect angle.

Oh yeah, he missed that.

With any luck, New Years would be the start of something better.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On an island that remained surrounded by unquenchable storms, a single black-furred monkie sat cross-legged in a secluded part attached to the palace. All around him fruit trees and bushes bore a hefty bounty releasing an intoxicating scent of life.

Ears twitched.

Macaque opened his eyes, aroused from his meditation. It was odd. He had the faintest sensation that someone had been talking about him. Now that wasn’t exactly unusual, he made plenty of allies and enemies across the centuries. What was odd was that the voice sounded like someone he once cherished.

But that couldn’t be right.

The deceptive silence of his personal orchard gave him no answers. Not that he really expected it to.

For some reason he refused to identify, Macaque turned to the single peach tree in the grove. A tribute from his past and a reminder of his mistakes. But it was also a valuable resource once he learned the truth about the peach’s properties. He used its powers to protect many happy relationships, if only it could have helped him so long ago.

No matter.

He still had many projects to work on, including one successor just rife with insecurities. He honestly felt bad ducking out as he did. If things were different, he would have offered him a new life. His Stars were always happy to welcome a new member into their budding community.

As a bonus, his presence would have interrupted their constant attempts to set him up with new dates. He adored their efforts but being paired with partners who only wanted power or he would view only as friends was not something he enjoyed. Although watching them mentally destroy those they didn’t find suitable for him was quite entertaining.

Either way, New Years was coming up fast and he still needed to approve a few changes. His Stars were determined to make sure this event topped last years in every way possible, but they had to make sure they didn’t set the orchard on fire again. Or worse, they could launch the fireworks into the storm barrier. He wasn’t sure why or how, but the tornadoes and clouds turned different colors as explosions rang throughout the night.

It was beautiful but lost its charm after the third day.

[slytherinnbitch]

Day 26: Accident

when harry woke up in a hospital bed for the millionth time, his first thought was hermione is going to kill me. and it was true because hermione had threatened to do exactly that if he landed himself in the hospital yet again. 

but when he finally opened his eyes, there’s no red or bushy brown hair in sight. just the pale blond one which belonged to the prat he hated the most. Draco Fucking Malfoy. and for some reason he looked relieved to see Harry. that couldn’t possibly be right. because draco hated harry with passion and he would have been happy if he died-

“Merlin, Harry, gave me a right scare. can’t you play one game without getting injured or is that too fucking much for you?” draco asked, and while the words and the tone of his voice were in perfect contradiction; one thing was clear. Malfoy was concerned about Harry. but that was something he would focus upon on some another moment when his mind wasn’t full of some half a billion questions. starting with what in merlin’s name was malfoy doing here?

“Malfoy, what the fuck are you doing here? he asked, annoyance clear in his voice. and because he couldn’t help himself he asked the other question which was burning a hole in his brain, “what game are you talking about?”

as far as harry was concerned, he had last played in hogwarts, although he did still participate in some of the impromptu Weasley weekly sunday matches but he doesn’t think Draco knew about that. harry’s words seemed to stop malfoy in his tracks. he frowned at harry, then he stared into his eyes for a long time before harry looked away. 

“uhm, okay. Ha-Potter, could you tell me what year this is?” malfoy asked, did he really think harry to be so dumbheaded that he would forget the year. 

“malfoy, do you really be asking me that? don’t you have better work to do? or did your small brain forget the date?” harry scoffed. malfoy was undetered, he asked harry the same question again, as if he hadn’t even heard harry’s words.

“ugh, you’re so annoying. its January 2001, unless i was unconsious for more than two weeks, then it would be february 2001.” harry replied, and the fuck was he alone? that too with malfoy to keep him company. he was about to ask just that when malfoy said-

“i’ll contact hermione and ron. just- sit here and try not to break anything or get out of bed.”

“and who would you be to comand me that?” harry challenged, like seriously what right did the poncy git have?

“as your appointed healer, if nothing else.” malfoy replied before leaving his private hospital room. 

.

"okay so it's 2011 and I have somehow forgotten ten years of my life. So what's up with me right now then? Senior Auror? Please don't tell me I went for Minister!" Harry tried to joke, it wouldn't do good to panic now afterall. "and however did I end up here? Malfoy mentioned something of a game?"

Ron and Hermione share a look. Harry always hated when they did that, especially after they got together.

"and why did you both allow Malfoy to be my healer? What were you both even thinking?" he added because he can't help but feel slightly betrayed by his friends. Malfoy entered at that exact moment, nosy git that he is, can't let people have some privacy.

"so does he know then? Doesn't look like it," Malfoy claimed, and Harry wanted to strangle him because he was aware that the he was him.

"harry was just asking about his job, and ... other prospects of life." Ron said, looking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy.

"well, I would be going really blunt now because reg would be wanting answers soon." Malfoy motioned his hands around as if whatever he said made sense and who was this reg person even?

even if Malfoy had appeared confident just a moment ago, he took a deep breath before he started, looking determinant, "you're a professional quidditch player. You resigned from the aurors about nine years ago and have been persued by various teams, and have changed teams twice. You now are the main seeker for Puddlemere United. You got hit pretty hard by a bulger before losing consciousness. And then here we are two days later. Does that answer your questions?" Malfoy asked calmy, it's a lot to take in. Well, Harry never fancied being a Auror all that much after defeating that noseless bastard so it's a good decision on his part. He wondered how he came to the decision.

But more importantly, he still had plenty questions let, "who are you? I know your name, malfoy. I am curious to your status in my life." Harry asked and by the look on Hermione and Ron's face and pain reflecting on Malfoy's, he wondered what was so wrong about it.

"Harry, I must have forgotten to tell you. I'm the Minister now. And Ron became head auror just six months back! don't you think that's incredible?" Hermione asked but Harry knew when a topic was being changed pretty well.

"it's no use stopping the inevitable, Mione. He would know eventually and I rather face it myself firsthand. Would be the best route for my heart, you know?" Malfoy said sadly. As if he had something to be sad about, Harry scoffed mentally at that. And what ths fuck? Mione? Not only was Malfoy on first name basis but he also called his best friend by their nicknames? What had the world turned to?

"We are married, Potter. And no, I haven't used any illegal or inauthentic means to achieve it. We have been together for the almost nine years now. And married for the past six." Malfoy said in one breath and what the actual motherfucking fuck?

"Yeah, right. So what's the real shit?" Harry snorted because malfoy might have a humor but this was so fucking far from the truth that it was downright ridiculous.

"Draco is telling the truth, Harry. You both are married." Ron said, and are these people alright? Harry was getting worried.

"what did he do to the two of you as well? What kind of potion did you use? Or is it a spell? Tell me, Malfoy. How have you been doing it for what did you say? Nine years, yeah?" Harry sneered. Malfoy's face shattered, as it should. He had been caught afterall.

"Draco..." Hermione started but Malfoy quickly put up his hand.

"I can't, not right now. It's fine, Mione. Don't worry about me." Malfoy said with a broken voice. Harry had never seen Malfoy showing this kind of emotion publicly before, but Harry didn't care.

"oh, and if we are actually married. I would like a divorce, immediately if possible. You can take whatever you want from my vaults if you want, if money is what you have been after. Reckon you wouldn't need much, what with your family fortune but I guess some people are never satisfied." Harry taunted because that's what he knew best, even if Malfoy looked like he was on the verge of crying.

"are you sure you want that? You won't regret it when you get your memories back?" Malfoy asked slowly.

"oh, absolutely. I think my actual self would be actually thankful. And please do this as soon as possible." Harry requested, although his tone showed anything but.

"very well, Potter. If that's what you wish for, then that's what you get. Don't say I didn't warn you," Malfoy said one last time. Harry just snorted at that.

Ron looked torn between shocked and upset and Hermione was actually crying. She started protesting but Draco just shook his head and smiled at her.

"I always knew this dream would break, mione. I'll be fine. I have reg." Draco sighed before he came to stnd directly infront of Harry.

"break the bonds then, the certificate would already be produced after we do that. I'll contact the advocate right after." Draco put forward his hand and Harry hesitated for a bit before putting their hands together. The touch was familiar, the skin soft and tender. Harry didn't even dwell on that for more than a second.

Malfoy spoke a foreign language, although Harry did catch a few Latin words in there as well. He didn't really care, but when Malfoy finally extracted his hand. Harry gasped loudly, his heart felt lighter and there was a whole comfortable weight on his shoulders that was gone. He didn't like that feeling even one bit.

Malfoy silently wiped the tears in his eyes, as if that was insignificant. He stared at Harry for a long time, to the point that Harry started feeling uncomfortable.

"well, goodbye Potter." Draco said atlast and Harry just lifted an eyebrow and sneered at him. He gave a sad smile to Harry's bestfriends as well. Then, malfoy actually hugged both of them, together.

When they pulled apart, he said, "don't worry, you both. He is not my Harry anyway. I'll be fine." Malfoy didn't look fine and even Harry could tell that.

"what about reg?" Hermione asked. Seriously, who was this reg?

"I'll be taking him with me. Or since ha-potter is the one who is leaving. Reg would be staying with me."

Draco then smiled, Harry didn't like that look one bit, he looked at Harry through his red eyes and said, "i must have forgotten to mention but I'll make sure Regulus stays with me. What with you being unable to even remember him. I'm sure I would have no problem at all. And don't even try otherwise. Consequences would be deadly." Harry shivered at the words but still, didn't understand who Regulus was. The only Regulus he knew was Sirius's brother and he was long dead.

"Potter, Regulus is, Regulus Malfoy-Potter is our son. Or I should say my son." malfoy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "and don't even try contacting him by anymeans before- no even after you have gained your memory back. Because trust me it will, and it won't be pretty. I don't want my child to go through anything that would cause him trauma, and trust me when your own dad can't remember you, that's going to fuck up anyone's mind real bad, especially for a one and half year old." Malfoy spat out.

Harry could still hear some words ringing in his mind. Child? He had a child? He was a dad? He had to-

"Your rings, Potter." Malfoy out forward his hand, Harry frowned at it.

Malfoy finally gestured at his left hand and he say it, a solid but thin band of gold with small diamonds encrusted. It looked perfect. Just what Harry would have wanted for himself. Did he choose the ring himself then? Not detered, he slid the ring out of his finger. It was with some struggle but it came out atlast. But malfoy was still standing with his hand open.

"what now?" Harry asked, irritatedly.

"the family ring." Malfoy coldly stated. Oh, he then noticed the Malfoy family ring on his tiny finger of his right hand. He practically threw that into Malfoy's hands. Who wanted to be even near that thing?

Malfoy's hand pulled into a tight fist and Harry noticed that he still had a wedding band. So of course, Harry asked, "what about the ones you are wearing?"

"what about them?" Malfoy inquired and Hermione asked at the same time Hermione cried out, "harry, can you please not?"

Harry ignored her and lifted his eyebrows at malfoy again, "well if you take away the ones I had. It's only fair, I get those back."

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily before the icy facade was back on, "i didn't want dissolve the marriage. I have no obligation to return the rings. And even if I did, I won't. My Harry gave them to me afterall." Malfoy said coldly, but his voice broke at the end.

"and the child-"

"nothing of it. Regulus is my son and he'll be known as such from now on. I would like to see you try otherwise." Malfoy basically growled. Then he gave one mock salute to Harry and turned his back to them and strode out of the room.

The three of them sat in silence for thirty more seconds before Hermione got up, mumbled something about Draco and left the room hurriedly. Ron took off soon after.

He patted Harry on his shoulder and said, "mate that wasn't good. You're going to regret it." Ron had said it with such conviction that it had Harry frowning for several minutes.

In the empty hospital room, with no one but himself to provide company, he felt a strange sensation of dread creep up. He looked down on his ring finger and the slightly lighter skin tone seemed to taunt him.

Harry felt extremely lost, again.

Day 25: Battle || Day 27: Babysitting

Part 2

[just-come-baek]

out to lunch

Pairing: cooking show chef!xiaojun x personal assistant!reader

Themes: smut

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You come over to the kitchen set of Xiaojun’s cooking show to tell him you managed to get him what he had always dreamed of. However, once you reveal the big news, you discover his priorities have changed, and right now, the only thing he wants to do is you.

Warnings: dirty talk | fingering | kitchen set sex | unprotected sex | creampie | Xiaojun’s inner diva is showing | 

A/N support WayV lol | writing this for neosmutcollective mini wayv event

Xiaojun was utterly immersed in his world. Though it was already late at night, he was still behind the kitchen counter, chopping ingredients with his favorite knife. Right now, Xiaojun was in his element, oozing precision and determination to perfect his new recipe, and it somewhat felt like a sin to interrupt him.

You had big news to deliver, though. Having heard you out, Xiaojun would surely forgive you for your disruption. He had to. After all, you just managed to get him that cooking book contract he had always dreamed of.

Ever since you two had started working together, it was your goal to make Xiaojun a published author. Though he already owned three restaurants and starred in his own cooking show, Xiaojun was insatiable. The more fame and recognition he got, it was never enough.

You cleared your throat to obtain his attention, but it didn’t quite pull him out of his trance, so you decided to give him an extra minute.

Xiaojun looked incredibly attractive in his own habitat. In his white uniform and ridiculously big chef hat, Xiaojun looked like a whole damn Michelin three-star dish. No wonder he kept beating his viewing records with each new episode. People all across the country swooned over his culinary talent, incredible charisma, and breathtaking looks.

Having approached the kitchen counter, you knocked on the marble surface in hopes of obtaining his attention.

“Earth to Xiaojun,” you softly spoke, looking at his face. Apparently, the timing couldn’t have been worse as Xiaojun dropped his knife on the cutting board and swung it onto the floor, making a huge mess.

“What do you want!? Don’t you see I’m busy!?” Xiaojun barked before he turned around to get a clean set of kitchen utensils. “Get lost. I don’t want to talk to you,” he added, waving his hand at you, trying to chase you out of the kitchen space.

“Ugh, for the love of God, Xiaojun! How many times have we had this conversation? That diva tone doesn’t work on me,” you answered firmly, staring into his eyes, challenging him. His gaze was intense, his jaw was tensed, but you just smiled at him, ignoring his shenanigans altogether. It wasn’t the first time he lashed out at you, and you knew how to handle him.

“Okay, fine. What is it?” Xiaojun huffed, giving in. With his arms folded across his chest, he tapped his foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the news.

“I got you that book offer. You’re gonna be a published author,” you exclaimed, ready to jump up and down in joy. However, Xiaojun didn’t seem to be particularly excited. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? I don’t get it,” you spoke, creasing your eyebrow in confusion, trying to read his bizarre expression.

Xiaojun seemed indifferent at best.

“Cancel it. Undo it. I won’t write it,” Xiaojun replied before he proceeded back to his previous task. It wasn’t wise to disturb him now, so you waited until all vegetables were neatly cubed and thrown into a bowl.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand. I thought you’ve always wanted it,” you inquired, trying a much calmer approach. Xiaojun didn’t use his knife now, but he was still holding it, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone earned a cut during a heated argument in the kitchen.

“I have,” Xiaojun replied with a deep sigh as he poured the chicken broth over the vegetables. “But it gets tiring, you know…” he added, as he took off his chef hat and threw it on the countertop, running his hand through his hair. “Everything is happening too fast. I thought I wanted it, but now, when I actually live that life, I realized I am not cut out for this.”

It was heart-breaking to listen to it. You two had been working very hard to get Xiaojun where he is right now, only to come to a conclusion it’s all wrong. Fame was a heavy cross to bear, and Xiaojun was slowly stumbling under its weight.

“Don’t tell me you want to quit,” you whispered, anxious to know the answer. Xiaojun’s eyes were trained on you, and you could see how tired he was. “How about you take it easy from now on instead of quitting it all together? It would be a shame to quit right at the finishing line,” you reasoned, hoping Xiaojun would consider it.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s talk about it, okay?” you interjected before Xiaojun would impulsively ruin his career. “We’ve got only three more episodes to shoot. I could put you on hiatus until you decide you want to continue with another season. In the meantime, you could work on the cooking book at your own pace. Probably, I will make you record some cooking content on social media to keep you circulating on the web, so people won’t forget you. Except for that, your schedule would be clear to focus on whatever you need to focus on.”

Silence.

Xiaojun was staring at his chef hat, pondering your damn good points. When you put it like that, it was hard to say no. Besides, he had a feeling you would talk back instantly if he found faults in your argumentation.

Seconds passed without Xiaojun’s response. You were his voice of reason; he had to listen to you. Besides, not only was his career on the line. If he actually quitted, your superior would murder you. Xiaojun was the cash cow of the company; they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was at their rising star.

“Why do you always know what to say?” Xiaojun rhetorically asked, and you beamed, ready to grace him with an answer.

“I’m really good at my job,” you pointed out proudly. Thanks to your impeccable management and problem-solving capabilities, you managed to help Xiaojun rise to the top. “And also, I care about you. Sometimes, you’re a pain in the ass, but after all, you’re a good person. You are my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

“Fine, let’s do it your way. But we’re not shooting another season until I say so,” Xiaojun caved, smiling brightly at you. “You know what I really want to do, though?” He challenged as he rested his elbow on the counter, straightening his back, trying to appear taller and overall more confident.

His voice was quiet, and it suspiciously sounded as if he told “you.”

Shaking your head, you asked, “what?”

Xiaojun felt a sudden wave of confidence rush through him before he repeated himself clearly. No, there was no shred of doubt. You heard him loud and clear. Confidently, Xiaojun admitted that he really want to do was you.

“You seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Xiaojun spoke in a somewhat accusing tone, eyeing you from head to toe before he took a cautious step toward you. Intimidated, you took a step backward, and that timid action made Xiaojun smirk.

He knew exactly what type of effect he had on you. All memories of lingering glances you had stolen of him when you had believed he hadn’t been looking came back rushing to you. You weren’t as sly and discreet as you thought you were.

“It really flatters me,” Xiaojun teased with a smug smile. “Don’t deny it, and come here,” he urged, spreading his arms, waiting for you to run into him.

At first, you were sure Xiaojun was just messing with your head. You believed he was teasing you. You imagined him flick your forehead if you walked into his personal space. It was obvious he was mocking you. There was no way in hell that he wanted you the way you wanted him. You must’ve been seeing things.

“Jesus, woman! Hurry the fuck up,” Xiaojun warned you, losing his patience. “If you’re not coming here, I am coming there,” he added, giving you one last chance for a change of heart. “Screw it,” he cursed, surging forward, trapping you in his tight embrace.

His actions spoke louder than words. All your previous thoughts were gone; Xiaojun wouldn’t have bothered this much to pull a prank on you. He was genuine. Xiaojun held you still in his arms, waiting for you to make a move. He would never try anything without your permission, regardless of how delicious your lips looked.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and you rushed, smashing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It was everything you imagined it to be, but tenfold better. You had fantasized about his moment plenty of times, and weirdly enough, Xiaojun’s mouth somehow felt both soft and rough at the same time. “Now, we’re talking.”

You two completely lost it. Hands were running on your bodies as you engaged in a heated moment, relieving your much maddening frustration. It felt amazing, and you wished you could carry on until you both lose all your energy.

“Let’s go to my place,” you mumbled once you pulled away. Xiaojun still held you pressed against him as he waited for you to elaborate, being painfully clueless to your ulterior motive. “It’s much closer from here than yours,” you added, and Xiaojun only smiled dumbly, waiting for you to word your request in an even more ridiculous way.

“Why bother going anywhere when I can have you here?” Xiaojun playfully announced, giggling as his gaze shifted from your gorgeous eyes to the countertop. Almost instantly you realized what his crazy proposition was. Did you really want your first time with him to be on the kitchen island inside the cooking show set? It would be a blatant lie if you said you had never considered this.

“Fuck me then,” you urged, giving Xiaojun permission to ruin you right there.

Xiaojun didn’t waste any time. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around your thighs as he picked you up and gently sat down on the countertop. Except for your pencil skirt, your legs were bare, so you let out a slight hiss once you felt the cold marble against your skin.

Biting your lips, you spread your legs, letting Xiaojun stand right between them.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you here,” Xiaojun confessed before he leaned forward, stealing another desperate kiss. “You remember that time when we fought over the Oreo cake? I was so hard back then. I wanted to bend you over the counter so bad. I almost didn’t hold myself back.”

“You should’ve gone for it,” you whispered as you remembered that quarrel. That night Xiaojun had been the star of your fantasies when you used your vibrating friend to get yourself off. “I was so horny then. Almost as horny as right now,” you added, pulling him by his funny black tie, melting into yet another kiss.

Xiaojun was getting impatient. It was nice, but it wasn’t enough for him. Having untangled the knot of his apron, he yanked it off his hips, throwing it over his shoulder.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he murmured as he slid his fingers under your skirt, pulling your panties down your legs. “Let me prep you up,” Xiaojun uttered when his digits gently fondled your folds, gliding his knuckle inside of you. The moment you felt him, you let out a quiet moan, enjoying his little ministrations.

Xiaojun knew how to please a woman. He curled his fingers inside of you, stretching you out for his length. With your eyes shut closed, you focused on your pleasure, letting Xiaojun spoil you rotten. Though it was just mere petting, it felt nice as hell. He was getting you ready for his cock, and you basked in simple delight.

“Enough of that; I want you to fuck me now,” you kindly spoke, wrapping your palm around his wrist. “Please,” you added when you noticed how hesitant Xiaojun was of letting go. He planned on making you come first before properly fucking you with his cock, but since you asked him nicely, he decided to give you exactly what you wanted. Though he’d love to tease you some more, your pleading tone seemed to do the thing.

Swiftly, he yanked down his pants, revealing his member. It was standing proud, and you looked down at it, admiring it. Without any doubt, Xiaojun was to make your day.

As much as you wanted to return the favor, Xiaojun didn’t let you. Impatiently, he gave himself a few strokes before he aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing its tip against your folds. Slowly, he pushed his hard length inside of you, making you groan.

Your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened as Xiaojun filled you up with his erection. At first, Xiaojun maintained a slow and steady rhythm. However, as you kept moaning his name and encouraging him to go faster, his thrusts became more rapid. Quickly, Xiaojun snapped his hips, finding your sweet spot in record time.

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, feeling the knot inside of you tighten. You were moments away from your peak. Xiaojun’s cock stroked all the right places, pushing you off the edge. “Fuck, I am coming,” you shouted, kicking your head backward, welcoming the bliss that ripped through you.

When you were slowly descending back on Earth, Xiaojun kept chasing his release.

You could feel him throb inside of you. Then, an idea crossed your mind. Until now, it was Xiaojun who did all the work, so the least you could do was to encourage him to fill you up, to talk him through his orgasm.

“You fill me up so well. I came on your cock, and you’re still rock-hard. Do you want me to come again?” You complimented him, spilling filth. Though you weren’t sure if Xiaojun would be into dirty talk, you were certain he was eating it all up. Xiaojun was moaning your name as he snapped his hips, falling out of his even rhythm.

Xiaojun was near. His grip on your thighs tightened as he pounded inside of you, being only a few strokes away from his sweet bliss.

“Come inside of me,” you urged him. It was all it took to make him reach his peak. With a choked grunt, Xiaojun came, buckling his hips as he painted your walls with his release.

You remained silent as Xiaojun breathed heavily, trying to come back to his senses.

“If we’re ever doing it, here, again, I want you to spank me with this,” you commented as you reached for the spatula that sat on the other side of the counter. Xiaojun smirked upon seeing the kitchen utensil, tempted to try it out soon.

However, on second thought, tonight was just good as any other day.

“How about we take it with us over to your place,” Xiaojun proposed, and you cocked your eyebrow, excited to hear his suggestion. “Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he added as he bent down to pick up his apron. His release was dripping down your thighs, so he wiped it off with the fabric, looking rather pleased by the fact that you let him come inside of you.

“That sounds like a plan.”

[not-using-this1]

Don’t shut me out ~ N.Romanoff

Time for another angst/fluff oneshot I think so here you go :)

In which Natasha knows she has feelings for a certain woman on the team, but she knows that she can't and tries to ignore it, avoiding y/n like the plague. Y/N has had enough of being avoided by her and confronts her about it...things get complicated.

Prompts: "Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier".

Warnings: none

Word count: roughly 1990

She had been trying to avoid her for the passed two weeks, going on missions for Fury, so she didn't have to be around the Avengers tower. But when she was, it was straight to her room that she had or even the training room if that woman was not there.

Y/n L/n, one of the most badass women who could control fire and bend it at her will, a woman she had known for only a few months since y/n was new to the team. In those few months, she had actually formed a friendship with the woman. And that went from one thing to another...The Black Widow started forming 'feelings' for her. It wasn't her fault, she's only human, but Y/n' beautiful h/c and absolutely gorgeous e/c orbs were always in her mind, especially that smile.

Natasha wasn't scared of these feelings per say, she just knew that it was wrong considering that this woman, this adorable, badass woman was a teammate of hers. Sure, she had a relationship with Clint (Hawkeye) but that was before they even joined the Avengers, all they are know is just partners and good friends.

So what made her think this could work out? Nothing, because it can't - that's just a known fact.

Continuosly avoiding her seemed like the better option, shutting out everybody on the team when she was around. Clint had tried to ask her a few times what was going on but like usual she was easily able to make sure he couldn't read her very well.

Walking down the hall to the kitchen of the Avengers tower, she spotted Y/n, Clint, Thor and Bruce. So as quick as she could she went to grab a drink and walked away, disappearing back down the hall to her room. Locking herself into the room. Who needs to be social anyway?

Y/n tried to say a simple 'hi' to her and she knew it. When she walked straight passed her and ignored her, she saw the hurt in her expression no matter how hard she tried to see it Natasha saw through her facade. But it wasn't just saddness, a hint of anger shown through.

Just when the redhead agent thought she could spend some time alone as per usual, somebody knocks on her door. But she doesn't answer it, she pretends as if she isn't there. They will go away eventually - probably, right?

Nope.

"Natasha, what's going on with you? You've been avoiding everyone for a while. I just wanted to know if you were okay." Y/n' soft voice was heard on the other side.

She heard the clear hurt in her voice which made the redhead feel guilt in her heart for what she had been doing, but that was for Y'n' own good. Nat waited for a good few seconds, not replying just to see if y/n had anything else to say.

Of course she did.

"Please Nat, we're all worried. I'm worried." And that just makes it all better does it? The redhead was feeling even more guilty now. She walked up to her door and put a hand on it, her forehead pressed up against it.

A heavy sigh left her lips, what was she supposed to tell her? That the reason she is the way she is because she likes her? No, that's not her. It's so out of her character to admit these things. Natasha never even had 'feelings' like this before, regardless of her past relationships.

Before she could even let her words come out, y/n spoke up once more "Don't shut me out", Oh god Natasha could hear how much she had hurt her, it's all coming out now. Y/n was usually good at keeping her emotions in check but right now in this moment, she couldn't.

"Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier." Natasha replied, no hint of any real emotion, she just out right and blankly spoke the truth. The redhead was always blunt no matter what, her brutal honesty was an incredible trait and bad trait at times but it did the trick for her. She heard a sudden slam of a hand on the door. "Then stop, Nat! I get it, I've shut people out too, but trust me it isn't easier than telling somebody you trust what's wrong. It will eat you up inside, especially if it's about someone you see almost everyday. Let me in." y/n shouted but rather softly.

"Please, trust me." Y/n added softly. That's all she wanted from the redhead, to be trusted, to be let in. She already knew of her past that barrier was down but a new one was made up when Natasha started shutting out once more. Nat sighed heavily again, turning the lock on her door so the door could be opened. But the question is, will she open the door? And let the woman she is so madly in love with in?

Or does she want to continue shutting everybody out and risk losing her?

"Natasha, please." Y/n whispered just enough for Natasha to be able to hear through the closed door. The h/c avenger sighed, she was trying to be as paitient with the redhead as much as she could, honestly she would wait for her forever to open up if she had to but maybe right now wasn't a good time for it, maybe Natasha needed longer. "Take your time, just...please don't ignore me anymore, don't ignore any of us." Just as y/n was about to leave, Natasha door opened and she was pulled inside.

Both women looked at one another, never taking their eyes off each other. Their eyes perfectly trained on one another, before Nat sighed and looked away sitting on the end of her bed. Y/n joined her, and the two of them sat in silence.

One of them eventually had to break it but neither seemed like they wanted to, but y/n stepped in when she saw that Natasha could no longer hold her expressionless facade up when she was around her. "Nat, tell me what's wrong." It wasn't even a question now, more of a demand but in the nicest way possible with such a soft voice behind it. Frankly, the woman was clearly getting annoyed with her.

Again with the sighing, Nat tried to look directly at y/n and hold her gaze but all she could do was take small glances every now and then, taking out her beautiful red hair from the messy bun, trying to distract herself, this wasn't even going to work but it was worth a try, anyway.

Another moment of pure silence crept over the two women, Natasha was mentally preparing herself. All thoughts running around in her mind at once, something telling her to just tell her because she just couldn't 'lose' this woman, especially not right now...quite possibly not ever.

"I've been having these feelings, feelings I have honestly felt so strongly about even in my past relationships with men. I don't know how to comprehend them" Natasha started to explain, she probably worded it wrong but who cares? The wall she put up in her emotions was starting to crack and crumble on the ground once again ever since y/n became apart of the team...apart of her life. Remembering that entire month she pretended to 'hate' her when she was just being cautious, to getting to know her, sparring and kicking each others asses, to then even going out places together, and even missions. Those few times Natasha took y/n to her favourite coffee shop in New York.

God, why was this so hard?

"Okay, so first tell me what you're feeling." Y/n broke the silence, she wasn't so sure how to deal with either, none of them were very good with feelings and that much was obvious. "Seriously? Do I have to say it?" Natasha rolled her eyes, she really didn't want to say that four letter word that she never got used to. But y/n nodded, she had to say it either way. "Ugh fine".

"Любовь" She didn't want to say it in english, so she used her first language, russian. Hoping that y/n didn't understand a word she had just said, but the twist was she knew exactly what she meant.

"Love, right. You do realise I took russian, chinese, latin and spanish in high school right and continued them in college before being recruited to SHIELD?" y/n laughed. Natasha cured at herself quietly, thinking she got away with that. The redhead agent should've known that she was smarter then that. "So whose the man you like?" Wow what a way to assume things. Now, Natasha could just go with the fact that y/n had just called her love interest a 'man' and lie completely...but that wasn't the truth, besides she really does like her.

Natasha lightly chuckled at the h/c avengers last statement making her raise an eyebrow in question, not knowing why the redhead found that even remotely funny.

"Bold of you to assume it's a man." She laughed before going back to being all serious. "This was a mistake." Her mood changed so quickly that y/n didn't even have time to comprehend what the hell was happening. Natasha had grabbed her and walked her over to the closed door to basically kick her out...but before she could y/n got in front of the door.

"No, you have to trust me. Do you?" She asked.

Of course Natasha does, but she just doesn't know how to open up about this at all. The woman she loves is standing in front of her and this isn't easy, it never is. The agent simply nods her head staying quiet. "Just tell me about them, the way you know best." Tell her about them? How the fuck is she supposed to do that? It would be so much easier if she just showed her but what if she didn't like her back?

Oh fuck it.

Natasha wasted no more time, grabbing the back of y/n' neck with her hand and pulling her in for a kiss, not sure if this was the right move. Y/n was taken aback by the action but before she could even kiss Natasha back, the redhead pulled away regretting her decsion. "I am so sorry that was-"

"Shut up" Y/n spoke pulling Nat back into a kiss. They kised each other with such passion that Natasha backed y/n up against the door, trapping her between her and the door. Pulling away Nat smirked "don't tell me to shut up." She added.

Y/n laughed "when were you going to tell me?" She added, knowing full well what she meant Natasha kissed her for a good few seconds again.

"I wasn't but now I'm glad I did it through actions." Natasha replied with a small smile forming in her lips.

"Promise not to shut me out again, okay? Because I'm here for you, we all are."

Natasha knew that, but she couldn't make that promise, not now. Maybe if she was a different person she could but right now that wasn't going to happen. "Kiss me again?" Natasha replied.

Y/n couldn't say no to her, so she pulled her back in this time taking some control of the kiss until Natasha got comfortable and took over completely.

[beetthereet]

an analysis on alice oseman’s writing in radio silence (only radio silence since i’ve yet to read any of her other books) because wow this human can wRITE:

(this will contain spoilers so don’t blame me if i did spoil you<3)

this will just be split up to sections because i have a lot to say and this is how i organize my thoughts best.

The way she writes first person P.O.V;

The entirety of ‘Radio Silence’ is written from the perspective of our main character, Fraces Janvier, speaking from a future stand. The entire story is written in a past tense from the perspective of an older Frances who knows what will end up happening, who knows everything.

From someone who enjoys writing, first person point of view is sO HARD TO WRITE. I was honestly mesmerized by the way Oseman wrote this book. Another thing about the writing is that the first-person point of view, truly made the story feel genuine and real. I don’t know what was Alice Oseman’s age while writing this book but it honestly feels like such a true experience of a 17-18 year old who goes a huge change in her life and doesn’t really know what to do with herself, and then finds something she’s passionate about. Truly passionate. It just really feels genuine and true and so I wanted to point it out.

The way the plot builds up;

I think, one of the main reasons Radio Silence is a comforting and fun book that many people enjoy reading _and _rereading, is because of the way the plot is built. Because the book is written in the point of view of Frances, in first person, she describes the plot of the book like she experienced it. It was getting to know someone from ‘saving his drunk ass in a pub’ to ‘this is my very close friend that I truly cherish and don’t want to lose’. And because of that, the entire feel to the plot up to when the universe city fandom figures out that Frances is Toulouse and through that, that Aled is the person behind the anonymous podcast, is so... organic in a way. 

The way this book is written truly makes you feel like you’re a little speck of dust in the air, looking down at these two absolute nerds slowly become so close. You have fun with them, you laugh with them, you get shocked with them, you feel with them. You feel with Frances throughout the book in its entirety. Feeling with these characters as they slowly build their friendship is what makes the big blow when tumblr (and the internet) find out Aled’s identity. An identity he wanted to keep secret. He needed to keep that secret. Because there he could be anyone he wanted. He didn’t need to think of what X, Y or Z would think about him after he said this or that. It was his space. And through Frances, we learn that. And we learn how much it matters to him. And like Frances, we want Aled to have this space. To have this bubble. 

And as the plot moves forward from that big blow of that tumblr post revealing who Radio is (aka, Aled), we feel with Frances and for her. Because after the action of some anonymous user on the internet, she lost her closest friend at the time. She lost a person she cared so much for. And that is emphasized so well when Aled snaps at Frances outside the pub. When he yells and shouts and says things until Raine takes Frances away. And we feel so bad, with Frances. Because Aled lost his bubble, Frances lost her friend and her safe space, and everyone lost something from the situation. 

This is brilliantly brought to light even more with the ‘Childhood Kisses’ episode, where we finally see Daniel talking. We see how bad and heartbroken he feels, and we feel so bad for him because he doesn’t deserve this. None of the main cast of characters did. 

And so, Alice Oseman made us feel for her characters. From Aled, to Frances, to Daniel, to Crays, to Raine. We feel for the characters because we care for them.

The stakes;

The stakes in Radio Silence are directly tied into my last point — the way that the plot was built up. Because, if we hadn’t seen Frances and Aled build their friendship like we did we would’ve never cared about how Aled snapped at Frances. We wouldn’t have had any connection to him, and I mean yeah, losing a friend is hard, but if we hadn’t seen that the personal level of empathy to both Frances and Aled would’ve been lacked in this situation.

This is also very well seen in both the time Aled was struggling to keep his identity a secret and the time Carol almost took Aled with her on the train from uni (at the very end). We know Aled and we know how important it is for him to 1) have universe city, 2) be able to keep universe city a secret from the world and his mom specifically, and 3) not go “home” with her because that’s dangerous for him. If we hadn’t seen Aled and Frances grow close (as I’ve mentioned before), these situations would have had no emotional affect on the reader because you wouldn’t have known Aled.

Basically Alice did an amazing job, I’m in awe<33

Alice Oseman will have you falling for each and every one of her plot twists;

In the entirety of the book Alice has planted multiple little ‘traps’ for you, the reader. These ‘traps’ are just pieces of information that are never confirmed to be true, but are assumed to be based on what we know from Frances and the story so far.

Examples; the whole ‘who is February Friday ordeal’, wtf is going on with Aled and Daniel’s relationship, what’s going to be Frances and Alex’s relationship status, whether Aled was going home or not, and so much more because she is good with this shit.

Using the correct tone to convey whatever she wants to, Alice Oseman managed to keep the reader at the edge of their seat, making them think “oh this is so obvious! I know this!” thinking they had figured it out when she is ten steps ahead of you the entire time. That’s such a smart way of keeping your readers interested and invested and she did it in a way that didn’t feel annoying or ‘ugh i didn’t get this right as well damn it’ but in a interesting and enticing way because the clues — and the solution — to the actual answer were and are right in front of you the whole time.

More on the tone of the whole book;

This book can pride itself on correct tone usage with its writing. Something I personally love to look for while looking at writing critically is the tone of the writing. Does the writing feel like this or that, specifically in dialogue or first person point of view. Does it actually feel like different characters speaking or thinking or narrating, if it’s one person, is the narrating consistent? And with radio silence I can say it just checked all of the boxes.

With every chapter I can feel the exact tone Fraces would say this in if this was spoken, I can understand exactly why it’s her speaking and when she’s speaking to her mother, or Aled, or Raine or Daniel I know who’s she’s talking to and why. There’s so much personality splattered through their words both while speaking (and in Fraces’s case) while narrating honestly it was so brilliantly done I was just having so much fun the entire time.

A little conclusion since I tend to ramble;

In her book, ‘Radio Silence’, Alice Oseman tackles the first person point of view as if it’s a piece of cake, builds the plot brilliantly in a way that makes you connect to the characters and feel like they’re just chatting and enjoying their time together while actually building a plot so nicely, and when it comes into play it’s so well executed, not out of the blue, just *chef’s kiss*.

Through the first part of her book, Alice creates stakes to further conflicts so well and so smoothly it’s honestly mesmerizing, and plants little traps, tricking you into thinking one thing without confirming it while the answer is right under your nose. It’s just so well done I’m gonna sob smh.

+ the tone usage of the entire book was superb.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed my ramble. Have a good day babes <3

[freddie-weaselbee]

Reflection//F.W.

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Implied eating disorder, implied body dysmorphia, body insecurities, insecurities in general, mentions of food/drink, language, angst, fluff, sad and insecure Freddie :(

Summary: Fred can’t even look at his reflection without feeling bad about himself and thinking about how you deserve so much more than anything he has to offer. 

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. No matter who you are or what you look like, you are absolutely beautiful. If you or if you know anyone who suffers from body dysmorphia (specifically men because it’s not talked about enough), please reach out to someone and learn more. My messages are always open!

Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Bill Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Percy Weasley. Fred and George Weasley. Ron Weasley. Ginny Weasley. The Weasley family. While all connected by their Gryffindor house and flaming red hair, each member of the family was unique in their own sense. 

Arthur and Molly were the parents. Arthur’s fascination with Muggles as a Pureblood and Molly’s blunt but loving motherly nature were what set them apart. 

Bill was the oldest, the golden child. He was loved at Hogwarts and became a successful curse breaker. No one ever had problems with the wonder that was Bill Weasley. 

Charlie forged his own path. The great Hogwarts Quidditch star who likely could have gone professional, had he not found his passion in dragons and made a new life for himself in Romania.  

Percy. Perfect prefect Percy, the one who would grow up to be the Minister of Magic, at least that's what everyone thought. He had every aspect of his life perfectly planned out down to the last detail, and oh how Molly loved her rule-abiding son, never a troublemaker. 

Ron had a more difficult time making a name for himself. The youngest brother in the family and yet not quite the baby. However, his friendship with Harry Potter and their knack for getting themselves into trouble every year made Ronald Weasley a known name around Hogwarts. 

Ginny was the only girl, which made her unique already.  Not only that, but she was fantastic at Quidditch, had the heart of a true Gryffindor Lion, and was overall a kind, vivacious, adventurous soul. 

Each Weasley had one thing that set them apart. Everyone, that is, except the duo that could never be separated. 

Fred and George Weasley. Not Fred Weasley and George Weasley. Fred and George. As if they were one person, joined at the hip with the same ideas, the same personalities, and the same feelings. No matter how hard they tried when they were younger, everyone always came back to calling them Fred and George. Even their own mother often got them mixed up, and showed no care in doing so. As long as it was one of the twins she was alright

. 

Once their years at Hogwarts started, the two boys decided to stop fighting the inevitable, and thus began their reign as “Fred and George Weasley, Prank Master Extraordinaires.” They were always together. They were both Quidditch beaters. They pulled some of the finest pranks Hogwarts had ever seen together. They sat next to each other in all of their classes and would sometimes switch seats or call each other the wrong name to see if anyone else would notice. They never did. 

“Freddie, you coming?” you asked your boyfriend, jumping up onto his back. It was Hogsmeade weekend, which meant the tradition of you and your friends raiding Honeydukes, Zonkos, and finishing out at The Three Broomsticks was minutes away from happening once again. Fred laughed and spun around, quickly getting dizzy and pulling you both down into the Gryffindor couch. 

You rolled on top of him and pulled his chin in for a quick kiss, limbs awkwardly tangled in each other as you shared a sweet moment with the ginger you’d been dating for the last 3 months. 

“Ugh my eyes!” George stood behind the couch, hands covering his face in order to shield his view from the innocent scene in front of him. 

“Oh shut up George,” you said. “You’re just jealous.”

Fred smirked at his slightly younger brother and pulled you down into a deeper kiss. “Yeah, jealous,” he mumbled against your lips, which resulted in George physically separating your faces with his hands. 

“You two disgust me,” he scoffed. “Are you guys ready?”

Fred struggled against his brother’s hand for a second trying to recapture your lips once again, but he eventually gave up once you caved and pulled away. 

“I’m all set, has everyone else already left?” The rest of your small friend group consisted of Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, who you had been close with since your first year. The three boys would run off and pull horrendous pranks while you, Angelina, and Alicia would roll your eyes, secretly coming up with new ideas for jokes to pull on Filch. 

George jumped over the couch and hoisted you up by your arms, his strength making you fly through the air for a few seconds before you landed shakily on the warm rugs decorating the floor. 

“Yep,” replied your friend. “They said they’d meet us in the Courtyard and we can go from there. If I remember correctly it’s your turn to buy butterbeers.” 

You groaned and threw your hands to your pocket, making sure you had the money. “I thought you would’ve forgotten about that.”

George wrapped his arm around your shoulder and gave you a brotherly squeeze. “Never, love. Let’s get going.”

Giggling, you walked in step with your best friend and wrapped an arm around his waist. You turned your head and put out your other arm, gesturing for Fred to come join you. 

“C’mon, Fred, what’re you waiting for?”

Fred wasn’t waiting for anything. In fact, the longer he saw you interact with George, the less he wanted to spend the day watching it continue to happen. He didn’t look at you and instead just fiddled with his sweater, the one you had stolen from him so many times until he finally took it back to appreciate how it now smelled like you. 

“I’m not feeling too well today, you guys can just go.”

You pouted and fully turned to face your boyfriend. “You were fine just a second ago, do you want me to stay with you?”

He could tell you were about to walk back over and crawl into his lap, but he really needed to be alone. “I’m ok love, just not feeling it today. Bring me back something from Honeydukes though, will ya?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded, wondering if there was anything else you could do to help. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” said George, “I can take care of you. We’ll have a blast!”

“I can take care of myself, Georgie,” you said. Fred winced at the nickname. “But I thank you kindly for the offer.” You bowed sarcastically and began to howl with laughter as George tickled your sides and threw you over his shoulder. “See you later Fred, don’t have too much fun without me!”

He looked up at the last second, only catching a glimpse of your face contorted with giggles as his twin carried you through the halls of the castle. 

Fred sighed and got up from the couch, sulking as he made his way to his now empty dorm room. He lied down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, imagination and worries running wild. What were you and George doing right now? Was he still holding onto you, laughing as he clutched your perfect body in his arms? Fred’s jaw clenched, thinking about his brother holding you, kissing you like he did. Because what was the difference between him and his brother? Why would you care if it was George that was touching you instead of Fred. They were the same. To everyone in the world, they were just the mirror images of each other. Just a stupid, unoriginal reflection. 

He felt a few hot tears well up, so he turned onto his side and curled up, letting sleep take over and wash his troubles away. 

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

“Alright George, put me down, you’ve had your fun.” The Weasley boy pretended to drop you, only making you clutch his shoulder harder. 

“Oh I see,” George said smirking, “now you don’t want me to put you down, huh?”

“Sod off, loser.” You wiggled out of his loosening grasp and elbowed his side. George had decided to carry you not only out of Hogwarts, but also almost the entire way to Hogsmeade itself. An act quite impressive, but the beater was known for his renowned upper body strength. 

Angelina came up and grabbed your arm, slowing you down so you would fall away from the rest of the group. “Not trying to steal my love, are you Y/N?” she asked, trying to glare at you but breaking quickly and smiling in the end. 

“I don’t know Angie,” you teased, “if you don’t make a move soon maybe I’ll have to take both twins. Paris does sound very nice this time of year.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a soft shove. “The annoying part is that you could probably pull both of them too. I see the way George looks at you.”

Your best friend, usually so confident and collected, was now very shy and insecure about her love for the younger of the Weasley twins. You and George had no feelings for each other. Both of you knew that and she of course knew that. But sometimes dumb thoughts plagued people’s minds. 

“Angie, wanna know a secret?” you asked. 

She looked up and nodded slowly. 

“The reason George and I’ve been hanging out recently is because he keeps asking me about you. ‘What’s Angie’s favorite food?’ ‘What does she like to do when she’s not kicking ass on the Quidditch pitch?’ blah blah blah.” 

Angelina laughed at your horrible impersonation of George’s voice. “You know he’s like a brother to me. I mean, if things between me and Fred keep going how they are then maybe one day he’ll be my actual brother.”

She nodded gratefully and sighed a breath of relief. “I know, I know. It’s just a little weird for me that you two are so close. I feel like I’m third wheeling whenever you guys are there, and you aren’t even the ones dating!”

“That’s just how George is. He’s so sweet, so he’s always there to cheer me up. But you have to trust me, there is not and will not ever be something between me and him. No offence to George, but that’s gross.”

“You’re dating his twin brother! How is that gross?”

“You of all people know that they’re not the same. I prefer my men cocky, arrogant, and pretty,” you quipped, calling Fred out. 

“And I prefer mine sweet, compassionate, and handsome, but it looks like George has got a long way to go before he can earn that title.”

Angelina was referring to the scene in front of you, where the man in question was currently shoving Lee’s face into the snow-covered ground. 

“Maybe we both need better taste in men,” you said, running with Angelina to tackle George and save your dear friend. 

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

It was 2 weeks later, and Fred was once again missing out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Gryffindor had just played Slytherin in the game of the year, a close match that had the entire school screaming and on the edge of their seats. 

“And there Malfoy and Potter go, racing into the sky with their eyes on the snitch,” Lee Jordan shouted into the microphone. “The current score is Gryffindor with 130 points and Slytherin with 110. It all comes down to who can catch this flying bugger.”

A loud crack resounded across the pitch as George sent a bludger straight toward Malfoy, hitting his broom and almost knocking him off. 

“Amazing hit by Number 6, beater George Weasley. This could be the end of the game folks, this could be it. Oh! Malfoy’s back on his broom and racing to catch up to Potter. Weasley gave the young Gryffindor seeker a great head start, and it looks like he might have it!”

“Fred!” Angelina cried. Fred looked to where she was gesturing and saw the bludger coming straight toward him. This was his shot. He had a clear path to hit Malfoy, securing the win for Gryffindor. 

You were in the crowd, screaming at the top of your lungs. He didn’t want to disappoint you, or the team, or his house. He didn’t want to disappoint people anymore. 

“Number 5 Fred Weasley winds up to hit a bludger, he’s got a clean shot toward Malfoy! If he can get this hit it’s game over and victory for Gryffindor!”

With all of his strength he sent the bludger flying, but apparently his aim hadn’t improved with the extra practice he had been doing. 

Lee continued to comment on the disaster that was about to happen. “One strong hit to the bludger, but it looks like it’s going in the wrong direction. Oh no! Instead of hitting Malfoy the bludger just hit Potter, sending him and his broom spiraling out of control! Malfoy has taken this opportunity to catch up to the snitch and...and...he’s got it. Malfoy catches the snitch, making the final score 260 for Slytherin to 130 for Gryffindor. A well played match by everyone.”

Except it wasn’t a well played match for Fred. He had let everyone down, again. He was used to it from his parents and older siblings, even most of his teachers. But he had never let down his house before. He had never let down his team. 

Fred locked himself away in his room, refusing to talk to anyone. He pulled off his Quidditch robes and shirt and stared at his reflection in the wall length mirror hanging in his dorm room. 

He stared at his body, something many girls would comment on and swoon over. He was Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and resident hottie at Hogwarts. Except he wasn’t anymore. 

The definition of his abs weren’t strong enough. He was gaining too much fat, eating too much food. He wasn’t working out enough, that was it. If he would've worked out more then he would’ve made the shot during the game. 

Fred wasn’t as ripped as George, he knew that for a fact. Living in the same room for their entire lives, Fred knew how strong his brother was, how defined his biceps were and how he could lift you with absolutely no problem. Fred knew that George was the better beater. It was just statistics. He made the most hits, had the best aim, and won the team the most points.  

The only thing Fred was better at was making jokes, but he knew no one liked them. His friends must’ve laughed out of pity. There was no way anyone could not find him annoying, especially with how cocky and overconfident he came across. They just tolerated him because of George. You just loved him because you saw him as another George. You should be with George. 

Fred stared into the reflection of himself in the mirror, the one that looked equal parts like him and his twin brother. He groaned as he bent down to the floor, quickly starting another repetition of countless pushups until he would pass out from exhaustion.

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

Fred had stuck to his cycle. Wake up, eat (but not much), go on a run across the castle grounds, go to class, work out for 2 hours, eat dinner (but once again, not much), work out again and then pass out from working so hard. Any time he had outside of class was spent on the Quidditch pitch or locked away in his dorm, overworking his body and secretly comparing it to his brother’s. No matter what he did, he never caught up. He was still the more annoying, weaker, less attractive reflection of his twin. 

“There’s something wrong with him,” George said to you, walking to the courtyard for one of your breaks. “He’s been so off lately and I can’t figure out why.”

“You’re telling me!” You had noticed Fred’s changes in behavior and tried to talk to him about it. He had become quieter and less outgoing, usually choosing to be alone and do God knows what while you went off with your friends. In fact, the two of you hadn’t had an evening to yourselves in over a month. Not ever seeing your boyfriend was beginning to take a toll on you too. 

“I’ve tried talking to him and asking if anything’s wrong, but he always blows me off,” you complained. “He just seems so sad and miserable, and the worst part is, I have no idea why!”

George just shook his head. “Me neither. He’s my bloody twin brother and we never even talk anymore. He’s always on his broom or locked himself in our room. Doesn’t ever let me in, so I don’t know what’s going on back there.”

Thoughts began to race through your head. “Do you,” you gulped. “Do you think he’s hiding something from us? Or...or someone?”

“Oh Godric no,” George said suddenly, wrapping you up in a hug. “Fred would never cheat on you darling, he loves you too much for that. He would go on and on about how bloody beautiful you are and how you’re the perfect person for him and it took everything I had not to strangle the git sometimes cuz he would never let me sleep.”

You squeezed him back tighter. “When...when did he say these things?”

George paused for a few seconds. “A little over a month ago. I...I haven’t really heard him talk much recently…”

You broke down sobbing in your friend’s arms, lowering yourself onto a bench and turning to cry into his chest. 

“Shh, shh darling, it’s not your fault. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. Freddie loves you so much, he would never hurt you, ever.” He grabbed your chin so you were looking up at him. “Do you understand me?”

You nodded, eyes red and puffy before going back to his chest to cry. You spoke to him through broken sobs. “I...I’m gonna talk to him tonight. I need to f-find out what’s...wrong.”

George stroked your hair soothingly and rubbed your back. “Sounds like a plan, love. You’ve got this.”

You thanked him and continued to cry until you felt all of your sadness release. George helped you up and walked you to the bathroom to get your face cleaned up for the next class. Little did you or George know that Fred, from afar, had just witnessed the entire scene. 

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

In his usual place as of late, Fred was curled up on his bed, unable to move from the intensity he had just put his body through. He tried to shift to get into a more comfortable position but it only made him groan and his stomach growl. 

His arms, which were supposed to be getting stronger, were weak from malnutrition. He wasn’t even strong enough to sit up and do his Potions homework, which only made him feel worse about himself. 

All his life it had been Fred and George. It didn’t matter that his name was first, because there was always George to follow. They were the same person, and yet he still felt inferior to his brother. No matter what he did, how hard he worked, George was always going to be better. He was the stronger twin, the kinder one, the more compassionate one who knows when a prank has gone too far. He was everything that you deserve, and everything Fred wished he could be. 

Fred was startled by a knock on the door. “Freddie,” your muffled voice called through. He stayed quiet, hoping you would leave and look for him somewhere else, or better yet give up on him altogether. He couldn’t stand to look at you at the moment. 

“Freddie I’m coming in.” Before he could do anything you had cast alohomora and were standing next to his bed. 

Fred turned his head away from you, trying not to let you see how red his face was from crying. He pulled the covers up over his face, blatantly ignoring you. 

“We need to talk.” You sat down next to him and ripped the blanket off, revealing a mostly naked Fred aside from his pair of boxers. You grabbed his shoulders to roll him over to face you, but you jumped back as he let out a pained groan. 

“Get out, Y/N. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You haven’t wanted to talk for the past month and I’m tired of it. I know there’s something wrong, and it’s killing me to see you like this. Please, Fred, you need to tell me what’s happening.”

The boy rolled his eyes and slowly moved to face you. “Why?” he asked. “So you can run off to George and have him comfort you? Why don’t you just save us both the trouble and go be with him.”

You were shocked by his words. Fred had never been the jealous type. Whenever you would talk casually with your exes or other boys would flirt with you, Fred was understanding and calm, always saying that you were his and he knew he didn’t have to worry about anything. But now for some reason he was seething with jealousy, and over his brother no less. It didn’t make any sense. 

“What in the world are you talking about?” you asked indignantly. “You know that George is just my friend, my best friend. He’s in love with Angelina and I’m in love with you.”

Fred scoffed. “Yeah, alright then. What did you and Angelina do, draw straws and decide who gets who? It’s not like it would matter, as long as you got one of the twins.”

You sat down on the bed, fuming with anger. “Where is this coming from? You know I love you. I don’t love George, at least not more than a friend or a brother. I don’t love anyone else and I don’t want to be with anyone else, just you.”

Your hand traveled to his shoulder but he jerked up so that he was inches away from you. “Don’t lie to me. You’re just like everyone else. You got one of the twins, and then you realized that you got the worse one, so off you are to go seduce George, because he’s just my reflection but better. I know exactly how you think you worthless bitch!”

Both of you went silent. Fred had never spoken those things to you before. Never once had he raised his voice in anger, and he had never even thought about calling you a bitch or anything of the sort. 

You brought your hand back to slap him, but you hesitated when he just gave up and sighed, awaiting the hit and not even trying to do anything about it. He was weak and exhausted and had completely given up on everything. 

Lowering your hand, you moved it to caress his cheek. He leaned into the touch, letting small tears fall from his eyes and drop onto your fingers. You pulled him into your shoulder slowly, where he sniffled and cuddled up next to you. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean that. You’re perfect.”

After a few seconds you finally spoke up. “I love you so much. You cheer me up when I’ve had a bad day with your jokes.” Fred hummed into your shoulder. “You’re always helping me relax when things get too stressful, and you take me on the best adventures I could ever imagine.” He turned his head to meet your eyes. “You and George, while you might look the same, are completely different. I could never love him the way I love you, because he’s not you. He’s sweet, compassionate Georgie, and you’re fierce, loyal, loving, optimistic, beautiful Freddie.”

Fred nuzzled into your shoulder and pulled you down so you were both laying down on his bed. He mumbled something that you couldn’t make out. 

“What was that love?”

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” He spoke so shyly, pieces of his insecurities finally becoming apparent. 

You held his face in your hands and stared into his mesmerizing brown eyes. “I think you’re beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, pretty, and absolutely perfect the way you are.” You ran your hands down his toned abs, starting to understand what he had been doing those many hours each day. “No matter how much muscle you have or how big or small you are, I’ll always love you. You look perfect to me.”

To show Fred exactly how you felt you kissed him all over his body, starting at his neck and moving to his chest all the way down to his thighs and calves. “Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean you have to be super buff and toned. All bodies are beautiful, and that goes for men too. And you are the most beautiful of them all.”

Fred squeezed you tight, mentally hitting himself for not talking to you earlier. You loved him and he knew that. You didn’t love George and you didn’t love him because he was one of the Weasley twins. You loved him because he was simply Fred. Fred Weasley. 

You shifted out of his hold and started to leave the room. “Where are you going love, please stay,” he asked, giving you his biggest puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m gonna sneak into the kitchens and get you some food. You need to eat, Freddie. I’ve seen you skip meals and it’s not healthy.” He nodded reluctantly, still self conscious about the weight he thought he gained. 

“Speaking of not being healthy, I think you should slow down with the workouts. There’s nothing wrong with getting a better body, but you’re destroying yourself in the process. Can you take a break for a few days and rest up before reevaluating your workouts?”

It took Fred a second to think over. He still wanted a body like his brother’s, but you were right. He wouldn’t get it from not eating and constantly hurting himself. “Yeah, alright.”

“I think there’s leftover ham and potatoes from dinner, does that sound good?” Fred agreed, cozying himself back up under the covers. 

“Perfect,” you said. “I’ll get food and we can eat and catch up, and maybe read that book I was telling you about? You said you wanted to read it with me.”

“Sounds perfect, love. Thank you so much.”

You nodded and walked out the door, closing it softly. Fred looked around the room he had spent so much time in recently until his eyes landed on the mirror hanging on his wall. With what was left of his strength he got up and stood in front of it. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. He had so many deep seated insecurities that he would need to work out, and it would take time. But for the first time in a while, Fred could finally look at his reflection and smile. 

[wonder-womans-ex]

See It In Your Eyes

The sequel to ‘Cause Boy I was Made for You 

When Finn O'Hara was eleven years old, he got two things for Christmas: an Iron Man action figure and a telling off. There were probably other things, too, but in ten years (or eleven, or twelve, or even thirty for that matter) he wouldn't be able to remember them. 

But the action figure had been the one he'd eyed in the toy store window for the past seven months, and the telling off had been from his Aunt Isla. 

"There are two things you must never ask a lady," she had scolded. "Her age, and to see the mark on her wrist. Remember that, Finnegan." 

(For the record, he hadn't asked to see her wrist. He had asked her to pass him the stuffing, and he'd said "What's that?" when her sleeve got bunched up around her elbow.) (Not like she cared.)  

***

When Logan Tremblay was eleven years old, he nearly broke his jaw. One of the boys on his team tied his shoelaces together after practice and he fell and smashed his face on the locker room bench. 

After three and a half hours in the ER, he met his own eyes in the bathroom mirror, cheek swollen comically huge, and thought, don’t let it get to you, even though it already had. 

***

When Leo Knut was eleven years old, he got his first job. Sure, it was only a paper route, but to Leo, it was everything. Not only was he making money (real, actual money; his dad couldn’t tell him his Monopoly skills were just pure luck anymore) but he was the first in his family to learn anything interesting. One morning, halfway through his rounds, he flipped to the sports page. The words Local Team Manager Loses Job over Sexuality glared up at him. 

At lunchtime, when his parents asked about the news lately, he merely shrugged and took another bite of his taco. 

*** 

When Finn O’Hara was fifteen years old, he fell in love for the first time. Not with a person, no, but no one could deny that he was in love—by the fourth rewatch of Mamma Mia, his mother was resigned to promising him extra dessert if he would please, for the love of God, just sing anything else.

***

When Logan Tremblay was fifteen years old, he and his sister Noelle woke up at five in the morning on April Fool’s to rig their house. Noelle, admittedly, was behind most of it, but Logan came up with five spectacular (if he did say so himself) pranks: baking soda in the cereal and vinegar in the milk, which caused his father’s breakfast to fizz and explode the moment he poured it out; semi-permanent hair dye in his mother’s shampoo (her hair kept the blue tint for almost a month); all the hard-boiled eggs in the fridge swapped out for raw ones and vice versa; glue in his father’s shaving cream; and, just because he felt like it, all the toilet paper in the house hidden in the downstairs freezer. The day was a bright spot in a patch of darkness—it had been only a week before that he had found the tumblr post about anxiety symptoms and thought, maybe…

***

When Leo Knut was fifteen years old, he quit baseball—for good this time. His coach was confused as to why anyone would give up an 84 mph fastball and a glove that could catch any pop fly in favour of the ice, but Leo was sure. Hockey was his destiny. The pitcher’s mound had nothing to offer him, not anymore. 

***

When Finn O’Hara was eighteen years old, he met Logan Tremblay. His first thought—though he would not accept it until years later—was, He has very nice lips. I would like to kiss them. His second, mere moments later, was, Wait shit no fuck no dammit shit fuck.

***

When Logan Tremblay was eighteen years old, he began to wonder who his soulmate was. Maybe she would have coffee-brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head. Maybe she would be taller, with wide hips and sharp elbows and long eyelashes. 

He tried to shake his fantasies of fiery red hair and gorgeous grins, because Logan was a hockey player and hockey players weren’t queer. 

*** 

Leo Knut is eighteen years old, and he is being pulled down a dimly lit hallway by Finn O’Hara. His wrist is warm beneath Finn’s grasp, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking. 

“Where are we going?” Logan asks from his place at the end of Finn’s other arm, but he gets no answer. 

Finally, they reach what Leo assumes is their destination: the…. Well, Leo isn’t sure where they are, actually. Some sort of storage room, he guesses, judging by the net in the corner. 

He still has no idea why they’re there. 

Logan is looking at Finn expectantly, a curious expression on his face. He looks like he knows what’s happening, and the thought bites at Leo’s heart. Great—he’s the only clueless one here. 

Finn takes a deep breath, and then another. “Hi,” he begins, and then stops. 

Not sure which of them he should look at, Leo focuses on a spot on the wall between Logan’s and Finn’s heads. He senses one of them watching him. He doesn’t check which it is. 

“So,” Finn tries again. “Ugh. I’m bad at this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?” Logan’s brow, when Leo sneaks a glance at him, is furrowed, only a sliver of green eyes visible beneath his squint. 

There’s a thunk as Finn lets his head fall back against the wall. “This is me finally deciding to man up and tell you I’m in love with you.” 

Leo’s head turns to look at Logan so fast his neck hurts. He sees Logan blink once, and then twice. 

***

Finn meets Logan’s eyes. He can practically feel the electricity crackling between them. 

Because Logan knows.

He has to. 

He has to know that Finn’s heart nearly beats out of his chest every time Logan smiles. He has to know that sometimes he’ll be talking to someone, anyone—Cap, or Coach Weasley, or the press—and he’ll think about Harvard and he’ll forget how to breathe. Logan is half of Finn’s heart. 

But whether or not Logan knows it, the look on his face says he feels the same. Finn feels his lips start to curve into a smile. 

And then Leo says, “Why am I here, then?”

There are a hundred ways Finn could answer that question. One of them is ‘Why wouldn’t you be?’ and another is ‘I don’t know.’ He could be passionate. He could be tactful. He could be poetic or blunt or gentle or any of those things. 

What he goes with, in the end, is philosophical. 

“Who decides it’s wrong?” Finn says to the floor. “Any of it. The feeling. The wanting. The having, even. If it’s real, then how can it be wrong?”

He can’t see Logan’s face, nor Leo’s, but he imagines they must be confused. He goes on, not entirely sure he knows what he’s saying and not entirely sure he cares. “And maybe it’s destiny. And maybe it isn’t. Why does it matter? If it’s real and painful and there for the taking, why bother about whether it’s supposed to be?” 

Finally, he looks up. He senses that one of them is going to say something, and whichever it is, he cuts them off. 

“Maybe it’s not you. Fuck, maybe it isn’t either of you, and maybe I’m the only one who thinks it should be. But it has to mean something, doesn’t it? Because if it doesn’t… why bother at all?” 

And maybe, Finn thinks, I’m going to start crying.

***

Logan, mind still wheeling, is the only one who gets an inkling of what Leo is going to do before he does it. Finn certainly doesn’t, and he’s not quite sure Leo does either. 

He grabs Finn by the collar and pulls him up, their faces smashing together, red and gold curls tangling between their foreheads. Logan watches them slowly break apart, far enough away to lock eyes, yet still so close they’re breathing into each other’s mouths. His heart surges—with jealousy, yes, but also with something fiery and sweet. Something akin to excitement, or—dare he say—love. 

“Whoa,” he says out loud, not realizing it until Leo and Finn both glance over at him. His cheeks start to colour.

Then Leo places a hand on his shoulder and leans down to kiss him, too. This one is more gentle by far that the previous; a dance rather than a battle. It makes sense—Finn’s always been the brash one, the impulsive one, while Logan is tentative, sturdy—and it seems fitting that Leo is the one to remind them of that. 

Logan still doesn’t know what they’re doing there. 

Well, he knows what they’re doing, of course. They’re kissing. But he doesn’t know why Finn picked now to haul them halfway across Hogwarts arena and make it happen. Maybe if he really thought about it, something would come to him. 

But of course he’s not going to think about it, because Leo is still kissing him. 

When one of them finally pulls away—Logan isn’t sure who—Leo reaches one hand up and touches Logan’s lip. They stay there for a long moment, neither of them moving, before calloused fingers carefully skate across his waist. He turns towards Finn. 

They surge forward together, meeting in the middle. One of Finn’s hands fists in Logan’s hair, the other slipping under his shirt, as they kiss for the first time in nearly four years. 

He can taste salt. One of them is crying; it’s probably him.

When Logan starts to break away, desperate for air, Finn chases his mouth. Within a few seconds, though, he’s pulled back, too. It’s almost simultaneously that they remember there’s another person in the room. 

Leo’s lip is between his teeth as he worries at it. He doesn’t speak for a long moment; the silence, before it shatters, if practically tangible. “You two have history,” he says, like it’s a question he already knows the answer to. 

“We do,” Finn answers easily. There’s something fierce in his eyes. “But it’s the future that matters.”

Logan wishes Finn would stop sounding like Plato. Or Socrates. Or Aristotle. One of them, anyway. Finn is an American in his 20’s, not a 2000-something-year-old Greek. In any case, mystery is decidedly not Finn’s colour. 

Leo shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean, then?” 

“I mean you guys are—you’re practically—” he breaks off. One of his hands moves towards Logan, only stopping when it hovers mere centimetres from his wrist. “May I?” 

“I—sure.” Logan’s heart skips a beat when their fingers brush. Leo gently turns his hand so Logan’s palm is up, and it’s not until Leo starts to push his sleeve away that Logan realizes what he’s doing. 

But by then it’s too late—those three paw prints he spends so much time agonizing over are on display, no longer private, no longer just for him. For a split second, he considers covering his wrist again and leaving. But he does no such thing. 

Because if he can’t trust Finn and Leo, he can’t trust anyone. 

Finn’s mouth opens slightly in surprise. “It’s—” he says, and there’s barely any hesitation before he’s pulled his sleeve up, too. 

It takes a moment before Finn’s soulmark registers in Logan’s mind. When he does, he starts to smile. 

They’re soulmates. 

***

Leo feels his jaw clench. He knows he should be happy for them—and he is, really. They’ll smile at each other, and they’ll kiss again, and they’ll go on with their lives as that one couple who are so in love it hurts to look at them. 

He turns away when tears start to pool in his eyes. He’ll go back to the locker room; they obviously want to be alone right now. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Just as soon as he takes his first step towards the door, Finn grabs his arm. “Wait,” he says, and Leo stops. 

“Logan and I are soulmates,” says Finn, all in one breath, “But there are three prints. Not two. And I know that it’s rare, but Re—but I’ve been told it’s possible. That it’s happened before.”

Leo thinks he knows, but he has to make sure. “Do you mean—do you think we’re—”

“I know you’re only eighteen,”  Finn continues. “And I know there’s no way of knowing for a while. But does it matter? Even… even if I’m wrong? I love you—I love both of you—soulmates or not.” 

Leo waits for one of the others to say something more. When neither does, he wonders why, and quickly comes to the conclusion that it’s because they’re waiting for him to say something. 

“Who told you?” he asks the moment it pops into his head. It’s not the best thing he could say, but it’s not the worst, either. 

“Told me what?” 

“You said someone told you it was possible to have two soulmates. Who was it?”

There’s a pause as Finn cracks one of his knuckles, deep in thought. “Loops,” he whispers, but not until Leo has decided he’s not going to say anything at all. “I was talking to Loops yesterday, and I told him I thought… anyway, he said I should tell you.”

“You told him we’re soulmates?” Logan’s eyes are wide and fearful. “He knows we’re…?”

“Not you guys, no. Well, Leo, maybe. I just said you were both on the team, that’s all.”

“But you would have had to say something about my age,” Leo concludes, the dots starting to connect in his head. “And I’m the only one who’s not nineteen yet.”

“Yeah.” 

Logan swallows, the almost comical gulp audible in the quiet room, and he crosses his arms over his chest. There’s something about the gesture, however, that tells Leo it’s an act of protection, not defiance. “He’s not going to… tell anyone, is he?”

“No. And if he doesn’t, I won’t.” 

“What?” Leo thinks he might be missing something. 

“He won’t tell anyone we’re… gay.” It’s the first time any of them have said it—that three-letter word that, in their profession, could ruin everything. “Because he has his own secrets. There’s a difference between being ashamed of something and wanting to keep it private.” 

Logan’s eyes widen slightly. “You mean… we’re not the only ones?” His voice is incredulous, choked with emotion, and Leo reaches out a hand to him. 

“I don’t think we ever were.” 

***

Finn feels as though he’s floating. No—this is better than floating. This is dreaming. At any moment, he’s going to wake up staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Leo asleep just a wall away. A mile away. 

It’s like he’s watching, not experiencing, the way Logan’s fingers twine with Leo’s, love overflowing from the gaze they share. He’s imagining the kiss Logan leans forward to plant on his cheek. Leo’s arm wrapping itself around his shoulders is all in his head. 

But it isn’t. Without having to speak, the three of them make their way out of the storage room and back into the hall—blond and brunet hand in hand, blond holding redhead so close it seems he’ll never let go. Finn leans into the warm body to his side, and he feels Leo stagger slightly as Logan does, too. They seem as though they would be perfect on the cover of a book, or a movie poster—Three’s Company, his mind provides, and he files it away just in case he ever decides he wants to sell the rights to his life story. 

He’s a long way from that, though. After all, it’s been barely half an hour since they started to unravel this knot they’ve spent so long tangling themselves into, and right now all Finn needs to do is try his best to make sure they don’t get tied up again. 

The locker room is almost abandoned. Pascal’s packing up the last of his stuff, and he smiles when they enter. Logan, for one, stiffens slightly in fear, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need to. Indeed, the only thing Pascal says as he does up the zipper of his bag is, “Be good to him,” and none of them knows who he’s talking to, so they all nod. 

Finn waits until they have the room to themselves to pull Logan close to him. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise.”

“But if people find out—”

“Then we’ll have to deal with that—all of us will. But you don’t have to be afraid. The team’s family. And family means no one gets lost behind or forgotten.” 

Logan nods, chewing his lower lip. It’s obvious when the gravity of Finn’s words clicks in his head—the expression on his face twists into one of confusion. “Wait a second—why does that sound familiar?”

“Because it’s from Lilo and Stitch.” 

Swiveling his head towards Leo, Finn stage whispers, “Shhhhh!” This gets a smile out of Logan. 

“I knew I’d heard it before somewhere. Shame on you, Finn—plagiarizing the words of an innocent blue alien!” He stops, blinking. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.” 

Finn smiles. This is his life now. He thinks he’ll have a lot of fun getting used to it.

***

Skates swishing over the ice, Logan lets the world fall away. He stops thinking about everything—even Finn’s contagious laughter and Leo’s broad grin fade from his mind as he gets closer and closer to the goal. 

Almost there, almost there—

He shoots. The puck whizzes past Kasey’s elbow, only barely missing him. 

“Nice one, Tremblay!”

Moody is nodding in approval. Logan feels a rush of pride—it’s an easy, everyday drill, something he’s been able to do in his sleep since he was a kid, but praise is always a good thing. When he can’t have a cheering crowd, he might as well have a coach who admires his talents. 

“Merci!” he says, beaming, and then, on second thought, adds, “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Finn and Leo bump shoulders. His heart swells—they love each other, and he loves that they love each other. Somehow, he finds it hard to believe it’s only been a day since the storage room and the kissing and—

“Tremblay!” Logan is shocked back out of his thoughts by Coach Weasley’s (albeit slightly amused) shout. “Stop daydreaming and take another shot!”

“Yes, Coach.” 

He’s sweating by the time he’s finally allowed to sit down again. He takes a swig of Gatorade, watching Finn try and sneak up behind him. 

“Boo!”

“Hi, Fish.”

“Dammit.” Two red eyebrows lift and fall again. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I saw you. You’re not inconspicuous.”

“You don’t just love me so much you could sense me from halfway across the world?”

Logan can’t help it—he glances around furtively, heart pounding, hoping desperately that no one heard Finn’s comment. “Well, that, too,” he adds, once he’s sure everyone else is sufficiently distracted. “But mostly that ginger head of yours just sticks out like a sore thumb. I call you mon rouge for a reason, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

"Peut-être plus tard.”

“In English, please?”

“...Maybe later.”

“But I want to know now.”

(If only he knew.)

Logan feels giddy as he realizes they really do have time for ‘maybe later.’ They have time, and they’ve earned it. After all, it’s been a day. It’s been eight years. 

It’s been forever. 

***

It’s almost a year later that Leo wakes up in an empty bed. He yawns, stretches, arches his back and hears his joints pop. For a moment, he wonders where his boys—even now, the thought that they really are his boys makes him unbelievably happy—are. 

Then he hears the voices from the kitchen. A smile spreads across his face at the exclamation of “Oh, shit!” and he swings his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor and preparing for whatever disaster may greet him. 

(Honestly, who thought letting Finn and Logan cook was a good idea?)

And true enough, the moment walks into the kitchen he’s greeted by two things: the grinning faces of his boyfriends, and the smell of smoke. 

“What’s burning?”

“The bacon.” 

“Of course it is.” He reaches over, taking the pan from Finn, and scrutinizes it. “Salvageable,” he declares, “But please never try to make anything other than instant ramen again.”

Logan nods sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says. “We just wanted to make you something special. Y’know, for your birthday.” 

Right. 

His birthday. 

He’d actually forgotten about that. 

He’s not sure how—it’s all he’s been able to think about for almost a month now it’s here and he knows all three of them have the same thing on their minds. Sure, he’s excited, but right now, he’s leaning a little more towards terrified. Today’s the day. 

But he knows, when he lets a very real grin spread across his face, that they won’t pressure him. They know it’s his choice, and they’ll respect that. He has nothing to worry about except for the fact that the smoke detector is around six seconds away from going off. 

“Here,” he instructs Logan, putting the frying pan down on the stove. “Grab the fan from the bathroom—the little portable one—and bring it in here if you don’t want the fire department racing lights-and-fucking-sirens down our street.”

“Oui.” 

“Finn… just try not to set anything else on fire.” 

The hustle and (incredibly mild, all considering) panic only lasts for a few minutes. Finally, Leo presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s head, ruffling Finn’s hair, and opens the fridge. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

“...Or not.”

They all laugh at this, and when Leo grabs the milk and pours out three glasses, he watches them. He sees Finn pull out Logan’s chair with an exaggerated bow, glancing over and smiling when he and Leo lock eyes. 

It’s the classic movie dilemma. Will he, won’t he. Won’t he, will he. 

He waits until they’re all seated to bring it up. In the meantime, he rubs his wrist through the long-sleeved shirt he wore to bed yesterday for this very reason. It meant he was warm last night, but at least he gets a choice this morning. 

“So.”

Finn and Logan both look up. “Yeah, Peanut?” one of them asks—probably Finn, but Leo’s mind is too far away to give it much thought. 

“Are we going to talk about it?”

This time, it’s definitely Logan who responds, shrugging and poking at his bacon before saying, “Do you want to?”

“I think so.”

Here Finn cuts in. “I only have one thing to say, and that’s that whatever’s on your wrist? It doesn’t change anything. You’re mine—you’re ours—no matter what. We don’t have to be soulmates to be in love.” 

“I know that. I just… I used to feel like I was missing something, you know? It’s been ages since I did, but at the beginning I felt like this was your relationship, and I was just an extra part of it.” 

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Logan’s eyes are earnest, emotional. Leo thinks he might see tears there. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. No, really—I felt that way, sure, but I don’t anymore. I know you guys love me. That’s what matters. I’m just tired of having the ability to tell myself I don’t belong, and this… this is what confirms it either way. 

“I want to know. I really do. But I can’t help being afraid of the answer.” 

Finn opens his mouth to speak, but Logan beats him to it. “It’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. You can do it today, you can do it tomorrow, you can do it in a year, you can do it never. Je t’aime, mon amour. Toujours.”

Time seems to slow down in the instant it takes Leo to reach into the deepest recesses of himself to gather all the courage he can find, take a deep breath, and pull up his left sleeve. His hands are hidden under the table, so neither Logan nor Finn knows what’s happened until Leo’s face spreads into the widest smile he’s ever worn and a choked, happy sob escapes his lips. 

He can see in both their eyes the instant they realize—Finn first, Logan following mere instants later—and he rubs a thumb over the golden print. Somehow, he knows that one’s his. 

He’s already seen this mark a hundred thousand times, but it feels so much more real there on his skin, blue and golden and green and—

“Yeah.” They know what he means. He wants to shout it out loud, sing it boldly as he walks down the street, because they’re his soulmates, and the only thing that matters more than that is that they’re in love. 

thanks to @peggyrose19 for betaing and @lumosinlove for the incredible characters <3

[butwhyduh]

The Batmobile

Jason todd x reader

Warning: angst, fluff, smut, it’s fucking in the fucking batmobile 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

It was a whole year ago that you found out about Jason being Red Hood. He had left a spare helmet in the back of his closet and you had pulled it on top of you when you grabbed a hoodie. After mentally freaking out, Jason had gotten you a bag of ice for the knot on your head.

It took a whole freaking year of knowing his secret and almost 2 years of dating for you to be invited to the Wayne Manor. Okay, actually Bruce had invited you within the first 6 months of dating. Jason was the one who wanted to keep you a secret.

You spent a good 2 hours looking through your entire closet to find something to wear. What the hell do you wear to dinner at a billionaire’s house? You relaxed a little when you saw Jason wearing plain jeans and a hoodie. Okay, yeah good. Casual was better. Not to mention that you were taking a motorcycle there.

You arrived in skinny jeans and a leather jacket that felt like a protection. You could act like a punk and most people won’t touch you. Especially when Jason had the scowl he was currently wearing. You followed his eyes to see the unmistakable form of Bruce Wayne in the drive.

Did Bruce specifically find children that resembled him? Much like Jason he was tall and muscular with dark hair and as you got closer you could see he also had blue eyes. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair that seemed to add to his beauty rather than take it away. You’d never met a billionaire before.

“Hello,” Bruce said.

“Hello.” You shook his hand.

“I apologize for not having you over sooner but Jason seems to have wanted to keep you a secret,” he said with a tiny smile you almost missed.

“I wonder why,” Jason whispered sarcastically. Bruce ignored it. “Hello demon spawn,” he said and you gasped at the person you hadn’t seen before standing only a few feet from you.

“Damian Wayne,” he said with his hand out to you. You shook the young man’s hand and stated your name. He was only a inch or two within your height despite his youth and heavily resembled his father except for his deep olive skin tone and green eyes.

The door opened and a voice called out, “perhaps you should bring your party inside the manor. It will be snowing soon.” The polished English accent must have been Alfred.

Bruce moved to the side and you all walked in. Alfred had walked to the dinning room. The hallway had deep polished wood walls and was dimly lit by candles on candelabras. As you walked towards the room, a warm body grabbed your hand and you shrieked.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He said releasing your hand. You flushed, embarrassed. “I thought you saw me. I’m Dick.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Jason grasped your hand and stepped towards Dick with a look of murder on his face. You put your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an accident,” you said with a little awkward laugh. Jason relaxed a little.

Alfred stood in the doorway to the dinning room with a small smile. He gently cleared his throat and you all followed him in the dinning room. It was then that you truly took in the beauty of the house. You had been too nervous about meeting his family when walking in.

The room was breathtaking. A long mahogany table was lined with emerald tuffed chaired and heavy gold curtains over the windows. The wooden floor gleamed and you noticed that your feet were the only ones making any noise as you sat down.

“Hello master Jason. It’s nice to see you here again. And you must be y/n. I’m glad he finally brought you around,” Alfred said quietly, shaking your hand. “Excuse me, I must serve dinner.”

A lovely smelling soup was placed before you all and water and wine was served. You watched as everyone ate. Bruce ate casually while Dick animatedly told a story. Another brother, Tim, shook your hand across the table before eating and typing away on his phone. Jason stared at Damian while eating and the teen glared back. You put your hand on Jason’s knee and he seemed to relax a little.

“I need to speak you, Jason, about work after dinner,” Bruce said casually. All of Jason’s tension came back.

“Not today,” he said. “We can talk later.”

“Well it’s quite important WE business,” Bruce said and everyone at the table watched the two closely.

“Is that why we came over? For you to talk business?” Jason said. He almost had a grimace on his face.

“Of course not. We wanted to meet your girlfriend,” Dick interjected. Jason ignored him.

Bruce finally spoke. “He’s right. We can talk about it later. Tell us more about yourself, y/n.”

“Oh, uh...” you said quite put on the spot. “I’m a photographer.”

“You should have brought your camera. The courtyard can be very pretty in the evening,” Bruce said. “Do you work for a newspaper?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Jason scoffed.

“I don’t. I mainly take portraits but I have been taking urban photos lately,” you said. “Like the effects of urban areas. I mean-“ you felt a loss of words to describe what you meant.

“She takes photos of the worst parts of Gotham to expose the poverty. That’s where we met. I don’t really let her go alone anymore,” he said with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s pretty damn dangerous.”

“I’ve been fine,” you insisted and Jason thought back on the multiple shady characters he’s had to beat for you to get your shots without knowing what he was doing. “But I’m putting together a piece for South Gotham Gallery. A few more shots and it will be complete.”

“I’ve heard certain areas can be very dangerous,” Dick commented. “I would be very careful. Especially with a camera.”

“Yeah, like the East End,” Tim said.

“I grew up there,” you admitted with a laugh. “Stay away from Crime Alley and you’re probably okay. During the day.”

“It’s unwise to visit at all. Crime has risen 11 percent in the past 3 years,” Damian said. Alfred served a salad next.

“And unemployment by over 15 percent in the Bowery. That’s why I’m doing my piece. Poverty and crime is caused by wealth,” you said frankly before realizing that you just said that to a bunch of billionaires. Jason stifled a snicker.

[[MORE]]

“I suppose so,” Bruce said slowly. Jesus, you had just insulted your boyfriend’s adoptive father.

“Sorry,” you said quietly looking at your salad.

“It’s fine. It’s true,” Jason said with a shrug.

“So do you two live together,” Dick asked, changing the subject.

“You’re saying that crime is caused by wealth? Can you explain,” Damian said. Jason almost crushed the stem of his wine glass.

“I just mean, Gotham’s rich have gotten richer and the poor poorer and the ones with the money can control that,” you said delicately.

“So the rich can prevent poverty? All poverty?” Damian asked. And to the 13 year old’s credit, he just seemed to be curious. He could clearly feel the tension he was creating but didn’t actually care as he wanted answers.

“Paying people enough to live, healthcare for all, rehabilitation services that actually rehab, good education. All will help prevent crime and poverty. Many studies have shown this,” you said and you wanted to remain impartial but your voice betrayed your passion for the subject.

“We donate and run many foundations that support most of those things. Right father?” Damian asked. You sighed but kept silent. Throwing money doesn’t solve a problem.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Drop it Damian,” Tim said. He roughly stabbed at his salad.

“I just want to know how she could possibly know what the rich do if she has always been poor.”

Jason crushed the stem at this point. “Shit,” you said quickly wrapping his bleeding hand in a handkerchief from the table. He looked close to exploding.

“Don’t forget that she’s not the only poor kid at the table. I grew up on the streets and moved here. Rich people are shit,” Jason said. He started standing and Damian watched him with a glint in his eyes. He was ready to fight too.

“Sit down, Jason,” Bruce commanded. “He’s just a curious boy.”

“Not surprising. He gets it from his old man. Disregard for anyone else,” Jason all but growled. Tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. You put a hand on his forearm. The last thing you wanted was a fight.

“You’re angry,” Bruce said quietly. He swallowed harshly. “Sit down.”

“I’m a grown man,” Jason said scoffing.

“Not acting like that,” Bruce said. Jason’s hands twitched towards his gun on his hip but he resisted the urge.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Alfred, food was great. Fuck you, Bruce,” Jason said grabbing your hand.

“Don’t leave,” Dick called as Jason pulled you down the hall. He didn’t go towards the front door but downstairs to a garage. There was probably 20 cars. Many of them were cars you had never seen in person.

“You wanna go for a drive?” He asked and you felt a thrill.

“One of these?” You asked.

“Nope,” Jason said pressing a code into a computer. A hidden garage door opened to expose a very conspicuous vehicle. The batmobile. You’d definitely never seen that car in real life.

“Seriously? Won’t he get mad?” You asked a little shocked.

“Fucking furious. We’re just going to get something to eat,” Jason said grabbing the key and unlocking it.

“Ugh... what the hell? Why not? Yeah,” you finally said. You knew the value of not missing a ride in the freaking batmobile. He grinned and opened the door for you. You climbed in and noticed a billion buttons. As Jason started the car, a string of lights pulsed on before the car showed multiple sensors. Jason pressed a few buttons before shifting the gear and driving out of the garage. The front gate automatically opened and he started putting on some speed once the car hit the road.

It felt like he was driving 50 when the speedometer was showing a cool 120. Your heart beat quickly in fear and excitement. Jason slowed down to 70 and grasped your hand. You could see tiny little cuts on his hand from the glass he crushed earlier.

“Is your hand okay?” You asked looking it over.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all. Let’s get some food. I know a spot. But you’ll have to wear this,” he said pulling out a small black mask to cover your eyes. He took his own. “Can’t exactly drive the batmobile and show our face.”

The spot he knew was a tiny little taco truck strung with Christmas lights and a white board advertising “elotes con chile y limon.” It was on an empty corner lot in a not so great area of Gotham. It was extremely conspicuous as the pair of you got out of the car. Most people watched but as they thought they were watching freaking Batman order tacos, they didn’t say or do anything.

“Hello,” said the truck owner nervously. “Would you like something to eat? Elotes? Carnitas?”

“Yeah, 6 carnita tacos with cilantro and lime. A Mexican coke. 2 orders of sopapillas. What do you want?”

“That’s all for you?” You laughed always amazed at the amount he could eat. It made sense with all the energy he used but still. “Same but just 2 tacos and and a coke.”

Jason wrapped an arm around you waist and swayed slightly to the Mexican music playing in the truck. People started to get used to you both being there. Maybe Batman just wanted some tacos?

After receiving a plastic take out bag with foil wrapped tacos, a sign of good tacos, you both climbed back in the car. The masks were haphazardly tossed on the dash. Jason drove you both back the way you came and you wondered if you were going back to the manor when, no he was taking you to a quiet rest stop outside the city. You ate the tacos and sopapillas on the hood of the car. You watched as Jason added way to much spicy green chile sauce to his tacos.

“Want some?”

“I choose life but thank you,” you said. You giggled as he cleared his throat and gulped down his coke. But to his credit, he ate it. Maybe he just enjoyed pain? “Now what?” You asked watching the stars. They weren’t visible in the city.

Instead of answering, Jason pulled you close. Your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You held his hands and looked at the little scars that littered his skin. Always fighting. Jason bent to kiss your neck.

“Wanna be really bad,” he asked with audacity that you knew meant something interesting. You leaned into him more.

“What do you mean?” You purred. Dating a guy like Jason Todd, you weren’t exactly new to taking some risks.

“Let’s fuck. Right. Here,” he said and with every word he slowly spoke in a husky voice, he pushed his hips against you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You went to turn in his arms but he moved quicker and you were quickly bent over the car with a gasp. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the hood. Little did you know but he was covering the camera.

Jason’s hand ran along your back and you shivered as your skin pressed against the hard metal. He kissed the back of your neck and kneaded the flesh on your hips and he ground his hard on against you. “Fuck you’re pretty. And letting fucking Bruce know what you think of the rich. That was hot as shit. I’ve been wanting to do this for months.”

“This was on your bucket list,” you asked grinding your hips back against him. “To bend me over the batmobile and fuck me?”

“Jesus,” he said before pulling down your jeans and panties in one push. You shivered at the cold air touched your ass. “Your fucking mouth, Princess. I love it.”

You weren’t cold for very long because after a few seconds of rustling with a belt and zipper, you felt Jason press against your ass. He rubbed his cock through your folds a few times before pulling away. You turned to whine only to see him rolling on a condom. He sunk into you without ceremony. His fingers roughly held your hips as he thrust into you.

You moaned and the echo reminded you that you were outside. Anyone could come up on the pair of you fucking on the goddamn Batmobile. It made you moan even louder. He rubbed his hand up and down your spine before sliding down to the front of your body to rub your clit. It didn’t take long for you to grip him tighter.

“Fuck, Princess, are you close?” He moaned in your ear. His thrusts were rough and deep and his fingers moved quickly over your clit.

“Yeah, oh shit, yeah,” you moaned. “Jay,” you whined when he readjusted his hand.

“I got you. Let go, Princess,” he purred in your ear. You reached a hand up and grabbed his hair. You pulled him close and moaned his name on repeat as you came. He grunted and a few more thrusts found his release. Jason pulled out and pulled up your pants with a pat on your ass and took care of his condom.

“We probably need to get the car back before Bruce come looking for it,” he said grabbing his jacket. Jason gave you a long sweet kiss before getting back in the car.

“Does he have a tracking device in it,” you asked with sudden realization.

“Yeah but all we did was get some tacos and stopped to eat them,” Jason said with a wink. “He won’t care too much. Plus he’ll only be mad at me anyways. Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

You held his hand all the way back to the front drive of Wayne Manor. As soon as you were in his car, his phone lit up and before he put it away, it was a message from Tim. “Clean it before you bring it back. I don’t even want to know what happened and Bruce is ofc mad.😩”

You laughed a little and Jason went from grinning to laughing out loud. “At least we didn’t fuck in the car,” you said. He laughed some more.

“Maybe next time, baby,” he said with a wink before speeding out of the drive.

“Oh god. I wouldn’t do Alfred like that.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason. Let’s get home. It’s cold as balls out here and I’d like to spend some time with my hot as shit girlfriend before the other shoe drops,” Jason said taking your hand again.

“That’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”