#for those who know me u should also know that i had a team cap url on Tumblr in the Civil War days

[leonidskies]

Thinking about the habitual lack of empathy fandom extends towards women. Thinking about Wanda Maximoff (MCU specifically). Thinking about Tony Stark (MCU specifically). Do you know how many times when I was trying to read DAREDEVIL FIC that I scrolled past fics that were tagged with some variation on 'not Wanda friendly' or 'Wanda critical'. Do you know how frequently those same fics are Tony Stark centric in a setting where he endangered a child where fandom worships their "parental" relationship.

I just think it's funny that Tony is forgiven by the fandom for what he does to Peter (enabling and encouraging a child to enter a position of responsibility where he is in constant danger) while Wanda is not forgiven for an arc that is functionally the result (see: Wandavision) of exactly the same situation...which Tony also bears some responsibility for.

I am not asking ppl to love Wanda (even though she deserves it) but I DO think it's exceedingly Inchresting that a male character's trauma = thousands of explorations of how he can heal through the power of found family while a female character's trauma = unforgivable crime

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts

f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader

A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr

The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,

Word Count: 3.7k

The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.

His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.

His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.

Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.

“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”

Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.

After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.

Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.

——

Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.

Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.

He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.

Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.

Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.

“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.

Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.

“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.

You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.

“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.

“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.

A quiet scoff left your mouth.

It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.

You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.

Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.

But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.

Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.

Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.

“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.

“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.

Charmer. You thought.

Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.

“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.

Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.

“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.

“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”

“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.

“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”

Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.

“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.

This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.

You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.

Now you had his attention.

“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.

“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.

Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.

A tension blanketed the conference room.

Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.

Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.

They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.

Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.

Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.

Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.

“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.

Roy Harper. You thought.

One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.

“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”

You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.

And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.

——

The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.

Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.

The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.

Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.

“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.

“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.

A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.

Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.

The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.

“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.

Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.

“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.

“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.

He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.

Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.

“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.

Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.

“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.

“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”

You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.

“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.

“Why not?”

“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”

You put your pen down. Really listening.

“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.

“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.

“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.

“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.

Your mouth formed into a firm line.

You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.

“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.

Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.

“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.

“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”

“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.

“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.

“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”

“I love to talk about myself, so why not?” Jason shrugged his shoulders.

You sighed.

“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“

“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”

“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.

“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.

“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.

Jason laughed, truly laughed.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.

“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”

——

You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.

It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.

You looked in awe.

“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.

You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.

“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”

Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.

“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”

Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.

“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.

“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”

“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.

Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.

“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.

Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.

“What?” You questioned his stare.

“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.

“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.

Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.

You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.

“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.

“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”

“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.

“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.

“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.

“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.

“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“

“Aren’t you a charmer—“

“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.

You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.

Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”

“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.

“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”

You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.

——

After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.

It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.

You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.

Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.

You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.

You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.

It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.

Jason came five minutes late this time.

“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”

You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.

“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.

You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.

“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.

“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”

“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.

You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.

“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”

“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.

“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.

“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.

“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.

“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.

“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.

Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.

You smiled to yourself.

As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.

“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.

“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.

You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.

“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.

You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.

“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.

Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.

“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

Your ears reddened at his words.

You nervously played with your spoon.

Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.

“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.

The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.

[esposadejoyhuerta]

This acc is becoming an mcu twitter for me but I fucking HATE secretary Ross so fucking much and vision is a dumbass.

Correlation does not mean causation that’s the first thing they teach u in ANY lower division fucking undergrad research class. So wtf was that toaster going on ab with the rise in superheroes and rise in threats like. CorrELATION DUMBASS. You’d have to do years of empirical research to determine causation. Also has any of them heard of critical refugee and border studies???? Reading a SINGLE article from that field would give u the fucking answer. Like come ON. The Sokovia accords shouldn’t even be a fucking debate—it’s a stupid ass idea and the only person I understand besides those who refused to sign is nat’s position of disagreeing but wanting to regain public trust and keep one hand on the wheel. Everyone who wholeheartedly trusted in the accords is fucking wrong. Also I blame Ross for nat’s death. Bc he’s the whole fucking reason thanos won. The scarlet witch should’ve just killed him “so ur saying they’ll come for me” Wanda says but it’s fine baby just kill them it’s ok god I’m so pissed and this is all fake. Also wtf is up w rhodey being like “omg this is the UN” like. No one in any REAL social justice field likes the UN. No one likes human rights studies. Like. They’ve been wrong ab most things and everyone is critical of them FOR A REASON.

Cap’s all like “we failed” after infinity war NO it’s bc everyone scattered yall and u were a DISASSEMBLED team and were very disempowered. These gov officials, the UN, and all these ppl who liked the Sokovia accords, y’all deserve half your loved ones disappearing. You brought this upon your fucking selves now suck it up and deal w the consequences of ur own actions u whiny whores

Edit: oh I did not know there was a whole subsection of mcu fans who r actively anti Sokovia accords and dive deep into what it entailed and how it’s wrong. It seems as tho some ppl in that subsection come from a legal background too which is so cool. Y’all r cool and I’d love to join in on convos w my theory background and comment on how theoretically the accords aren’t for the protection of the ppl and only aim to solidify existing racialized and sexualized nationalist tools such as consolidated military power and borders, which are inherently polysemic and overdetermined in nature (Balibar 2002) are are for those exact reasons that the accords r being drafted and that should honestly be enough to make the general public and world leaders question it in the first place. But anyways. Would love to elaborate one day if let into the fanclub😌

Another edit: im just mad and ranting to the void at this point but y’all who try to argue FOR the Sokovia accords in a legal matter. It straight up DOESNT. MATTER. Bc if u look for even a second at critical social theories, you’d understand that the accords literally cannot work for the people. So you’re arguing for something that strengthens the power of those already in power. Which is fine, but just admit that. Also on the lowest key that’s equivalent to arguing for white heteropatriatchal power. But like. Just admit that. Bc. Again. I repeat, the accords are not FOR THE PEOPLE. Now, we literally don’t know the full content of the accords so there’s only sm we can all say ab the details of it. But as an overall idea, that’s what it does. But if this was a real thing I’d be concerned abt yalls ability to critically think and also that y’all get a say in this country (yikes) ESPECIALLY to that one user I blocked saying that all they needed to see was that cap, a white man, is arrogant, wants to keep his white power, and therefore the accords must be signed, to keep white power in check, then Jesus fuck you’re dumb as hell. Like yes, I had that same initial thought too, but then I THOUGHT AB IT for longer than a SECOND and the same damn thing could be said ab Tony, that his white guilt is clouding his judgement and making him sign. Also non white ppl backed both sides. Like. Use the one brain cell u have for the love of god. Do u rlly think the mcu cares enough to make a racial statement here? And to all Sokovia acc supporters, don’t u think it ended w thanos winning FOR A REASON?! Also. To say “but we need regulation therefore we need the accords” is the same exact thing as saying “we need safety therefore we need cops and the military” like Jesus fuck there r other options. Be creative for a SINGLE SECOND. I hate this world and I hate that I have to share it w ppl who have such smooth brains y’all concern me a LOT

[maximoffwitch]

Not Your Cup of Tea?

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: none

summary: Natasha keeps making you coffee, little does she know that it’s not your cup of tea.

word count: 2k

a/n: idk what this is lol but here you go! also if u sent me a request, don’t worry i see it. i just like to keep it so i don’t forget and can reference them :)

Your phone buzzed against your night stand, pulling you from your slumber. Rolling over, you internally cursed whoever was calling you. You had specifically not set an alarm, hoping you’d get to sleep in for the first time in weeks, seeing as you’d just gotten back from a long mission.

“‘llo?” you grumbled, your eyes still closed, as you answered the phone.

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s voice sounded through the speaker. “Where are you?”

“In bed,” you answered, finally opening your eyes, confused as to why Steve was calling.

“You’re late,” he deadpanned.

“For what?” you racked you brain for anything you could be forgetting but came up empty.

“Debriefing,” Steve responded, causing you to close your eyes once again, this time in frustration.

“But, Cap,” you whined, “we just got back last night, and it’s,” you pull the phone away from your ear to check the time, “8:42 in the morning.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” he said, sounding at least slightly apologetic. “Be down in 15 please.”

Before you could further argue, Steve hung up the phone.

Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of bed, slipped on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, not bothering to change out of your pajamas.

You decided to stop by the kitchen and grab a quick bite to eat before being submitted to long-winded lectures from Fury and piles of paperwork.

“Morning, Nat,” you greeted the redhead, who was making herself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she smiled softly at you. The two of you weren’t the closest, considering you were a fairly recent addition to the team. “How’d the mission go?”

“Good,” you nodded, moving to grab a bagel, “only a few scrapes and bruises.”

Natasha snorted with amusement. “That’s good.”

“Now, I gotta go do,” you were interrupted by a long yawn, earning a small chuckle from the other woman, “the worst part of the mission.”

“Here,” Natasha slid over the freshly brewed cup of coffee over to you, “you look like you need this more than me.”

You raised your eyebrow and smirked. “You saying I look like crap, Romanoff?”

“What? No,” Nat sputtered, her eyes widening. “That’s not what I meant. I was just—,”

“I’m kidding, Nat,” you chuckled, enjoying the edge you had over the normally calm and composed assassin, even for a brief moment. Accepting the warm drink with a tiny sip, you gave her a little grin. “Thanks for the coffee.”

—

A couple of days later, you find yourself back in the kitchen on another early morning, this time wanting to get a proper breakfast before your training session with Wanda.

As you enter, you see Natasha perched on the barstool, reading the newspaper and sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” she laughed at your tired state. “I made you a cup of coffee, seeing as you’re clearly not a morning person.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you brought the mug to your lips, allowing a small amount of the warm drink to enter your mouth. Quickly, you put together a piece of toast and grabbed a hardboiled egg from the fridge before joining the redhead at the island.

“You always up this early?” you asked, as you took a bite of your food.

“Routine,” she answered with a shrug.

“Probably should get myself one of those,” you joked, earning a small chuckle from Natasha.

“You have training?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, still chewing. “Wanda and I are going through the new ropes course today,” your eyes lit up with excitement.

You and your best friend had been begging Tony to try out the newest agility course he’d built, but the billionaire kept putting off the final fixes he had to make. Though when the team finally got a small break in their long streak of missions, Tony finally finished it, allowing you and Wanda to have a go.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes,” Natasha said, trying to hide her smile at your eagerness.

“Of course,” you took the last bite of your breakfast, finishing the coffee gifted by Nat to wash it all down. As you put your dishes in the sink, you turned back to her and smirked, “Though I doubt you’ll be able to beat my time.”

“Oh?” Natasha raised her eyebrow at you, a smirk of her own playing on her lips. “I was going to tell you to ‘be careful,’ but now I’m not so sure.”

“Aw, Nat, you were worried about me?” you cooed teasingly, causing her to roll her eyes. Picking out an apple as a snack for later, you toss it up and catch it midair, as you head out for training. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“See ya, (Y/N/N),” Nat shook her head, amused by your sudden energy.

—

From that day on, you and Natasha formed a routine. Natasha would always be up before you and make coffee for the two of you, but when you joined, you prepared the breakfast, which you forced Nat to eat.

“Nat, it’s the most important meal of the day,” you argued, holding out a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

“I’m not hungry,” she retorted, moving to grab her coffee.

“You can’t rely on black coffee to get you through the day,” you pulled the mug away from her reach, replacing it with the plate of food. “Eat.”

“It’s not black,” Natasha grumbled, as she reluctantly picked up the fork and started poking at the pile of eggs. As she took a bite, her eyes widened. “(Y/N) this is amazing.”

You ducked your head to hide the slight tint creeping onto your cheeks. “It’s just scrambled eggs.”

“I’ve never had eggs this good,” Nat took another big bite. “Seriously, what’d you put in them?”

“Now, that, Miss Romanoff,” you set your own plate down in front of you, as you took a seat across from the redhead, “is a secret.”

“Fine,” Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. “As long as you make breakfast for me every morning.”

“Whatever you say, Nat,” you chuckled, starting your own breakfast.

Often times, the two of you would share stories of your lives, as you got to know each other better, and sometimes, you’d just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the stillness of the morning.

You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t started developing feelings for the assassin. There was just something about her that interested you, even as you got to know more and more about her life.

Little did you know that Natasha felt the same way. It was unusual for her to be so open with someone she knew hadn’t known for too long, but there was something about you that made her feel safe.

—

Natasha frowned when she still hadn’t joined her for breakfast. While it was still only 9 o’clock, and Tony did throw a massive party last night, she couldn’t help but stare at your untouched cup of coffee, wondering where you were.

Hearing footsteps pad into the kitchen, Natasha snapped her head up, slightly disappointed when it wasn’t you.

“Morning, Nat,” Wanda greeted, as she walked over to grab two mugs from the cabinet.

“Hey, Wanda.”

“Who’s that coffee for?” the younger woman nodded to the full cup sitting on the counter.

“(Y/N),” she revealed, causing Wanda to make a face of surprise and confusion, one Natasha did not miss. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Wanda asked innocently, moving around the kitchen to make some tea.

“That face you just made.”

“I didn’t make a face,” Wanda continued the act, her back turned away from her mentor, as she sorted through the selection of tea bags.

“Wanda,” Natasha warned.

“It’s just,” Wanda gave in with a sigh, turning around to face the confused assassin, “(Y/N) doesn’t like coffee. Like at all.”

Natasha’s lips parted and her eyebrows furrowed at the revelation. All this time she had been making you coffee and you didn’t even like it? An awkward silence hung in the air, as Nat processed her thoughts.

“Is that why she’s not down yet?”

It didn’t take a mind reader for Wanda to tell that Natasha was feeling self-conscious asking your best friend about you.

“No, of course not,” Wanda smiled reassuringly, as she picked up the two mugs. “She actually woke up with a cold, hence the tea.”

“Wait, Wanda,” Natasha called after her before the younger woman could leave, “I’d like to talk to (Y/N), if you don’t mind.”

A knowing grin appeared on Wanda’s face, her plan having worked out to perfection, and she held out the cups of tea for Natasha to take, “Of course.”

“Thanks,” Nat took the drinks with a nod before heading up to your room.

She gently pushed open your door, her heart melting at the sight of you bundled up under the covers.

Hearing the door creak open and soft footsteps against the carpet, you stir groggily. “Wands? Did you find the chamomile? I think Bucky saved me—“

You stopped yourself as you rolled over and saw that the person sitting on the edge of your bed was in fact not your best friend.

“Sorry,” Natasha offered an apologetic smile, “not Wanda.”

“I can see that,” you smirked lazily, your voice coming out raspier than usual.

“Wanda, um, told me that you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you some tea,” Natasha explained nervously, scratching the back of her neck. “Well, actually, Wanda made the tea but I asked to bring it up to you because I wanted to see you and make sure that you were alright but if you want to see Wanda I can—“

“Nat,” you chuckle, cutting off her rambling, as you move to sit up so you could drink your tea, “thank you. I appreciate it.”

Nodding, she carefully handed you the mug, her heart fluttering as your fingers brushed briefly.

“Do you know what kind it is?” you asked, blowing on the steaming liquid in an effort to cool it down.

“No, sorry,” Natasha answered sheepishly.

As you took a sip, you closed your eyes contently, the warm liquid soothing your sore throat. “Mmm, it is chamomile, my favorite.”

“Good, I’m glad,” the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, as Nat hid the forming smirk behind her cup. “So, Wanda told me something interesting…”

“Oh, god,” your eyes widened and a pit formed in your stomach, as you hoped your best friend didn’t expose your feelings, “what’d she say?”

“She told me that you don’t like coffee,” Natasha revealed, the playfulness in her tone now gone.

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled nervously. “It’s just so bitter and the caffeine makes my body go crazy.”

“And yet you’ve been drinking it every morning for the past month?” Natasha arched her brow, both confused and amused, implicitly asking for an explanation.

You nodded bashfully and looked up to meet her watchful gaze. “I didn’t want to be rude and not drink the drink you made me,” you said before adding, “plus I enjoy spending time with you.”

“(Y/N/N), you don’t need to force yourself to drink a drink you hate in order to spend time with me,” Natasha teased, though you could see a faint blush forming on her cheeks. “But I like spending time with you too.”

“Yeah?” you beamed and bit your lip hesitantly. “You think I could take you out to dinner sometime?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), are you asking me on a date?”

Before you could voice a response, a violent sneeze interrupted you. Natasha carefully took your tea from you, making sure you don’t spill it.

“How about this,” she began, setting down the mugs on your nightstand so she could pull the blankets over you, “you rest up and get better, and then we can talk about that date?”

“Hmm,” you hummed tiredly, as you sunk into your bed, your eyelids becoming heavier by the second, “sounds like a plan.”

“Get some sleep, dorogaya,” Nat leaned over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[correctdangerousfellows]

first date with ethan and harry

anon asked:  first date headcanons for the dfel bois

a/n: this request made me so happy u don’t understand, i’m sorry this was super late and i didn’t want to take too much time so here is ethan’s and harry;s first! i’ll publish zion’s, eugene’s, and lawrence’s super soon <3

ethan

- my precious,,, but very awkward giant,,,,,

- you probably had to initiate the first date. you guys were just chilling outside of a classroom talking about random stuff until the topic of baseball was brought up, and u said something around the lines of “oh my god we should go to one of those baseball games together :D”

- insert dying ethan here he says yes with the most eager and straightforward face

- THE MOST NERVOUS MF he doesn’t show it but when i mean he is dying inside i mean HE IS DYING INSIDE

- he wakes up early for once in his life and waits patiently outside of your home with absolutely everything prepared. he brought a mini backpack filled with snacks, water bottles, and a sports jacket in case it was windy

- asked if he could hold ur hand bc baseball stadiums r so big and he’s not risking losing u in a big crowd

- there was a cameraman going around and he asked u guys if u wanted a photo together and he was like “YES,,,,,,, if u don’t mind of course.” it’s a cute polaroid of u two together with matching baseball caps

- yall the photo is NOT GOING ANYWHERE. he takes it with him everywhere he goes

- if u were familiar with baseball, he would talk about what the teams were doing with u and guessing who was going to win,, it’s basically commentary and it’s so cute bc he gets lost in it and when he realizes he gets shy and goes “oh wait sorry i think i talked too much” MF IF U DON’T TALK MORE

- if u weren’t familiar with baseball, he would explain absolutely everything to u and would keep an arm slung around ur shoulder so u have easy access to ask him anything :”) he is open to every single question and is completely patient with u. in fact he just falls deeper in love with u if u sound into the sport

- what is a sports date... if no kiss cam.....?

- you guys were way too into the game so u guys didn’t notice the kiss cam was on u two until the crowd got ridiculously loud

- ethan really wanted to kiss u but also he didn’t want u to feel pressured at all but if u gave him permission he would give u the most gentle and soft kiss of all time

- doesn’t process he kissed u until an hour later

- dies when he does

- 10/10 would do again even if he died of cardiac arrest

harry

- harry was the one who initiated the first date! he’s actually been wanting to ask you to a date for the longest time but he had no idea how to approach u,, and also he’s pretty scared of making u uncomfortable so he was in this very poor position of oh my god what should i do

- he asked his mother for advice n everything and finally went for it

- pretty casual about it freaking inside he first asks you if you’re available next weekend, then proceeds to be like ,,,”so i heard about this movie right and it’s insert favorite movie genre here” because he’s very tentative to your interests so

- when you said yes he was like “oh, okay cool! see you then : ^ )”

- he thinks he looks composed on the outside but in reality,,, you see harry with the reddest fucking face ever and he’s grabbing the back of his neck and looking away shyly with a small smile

- went shopping for the first time with his mom and got decent looking clothes

- bought the snacks beforehand ofc my mans is already prepared

- the most gentlemanliest gentleman ever u already know he’s there like an hour early, he insisted on taking you safely to the theatres, paid for all the tickets, “your daughter will be back by 9 pm sir”

- no matter what type of movie you guys are watching he is always leaning towards you so your shoulders touch,,, and he’s so warm and he’ll glance at u a few times throughout the movie to see ur reaction

- if you guys are watching a horror movie, he’ll hold your hand very gingerly and squeeze it whenever a jumpscare pops up

- for romcoms, he’ll probably be distracted from the movie just to stare at u HE IS OVER THE MOONNNN FOR U

- action? he’ll be as engrossed as u are and u guys are just sharing snacks subconsciously and sometimes your hands would brush together and he’ll smile at u gently

- HE IS SO CUTE OMG once the movie finished, he walks you back home with your arm around his arm and he’ll quietly listen to you ramble about the movie with the most loving eyes

- got so engrossed in the conversation that he didn’t even notice u were in front of ur home

- he gave u a big fat hug and he was SO WARM he lowkey did not want to let go bc everything in that moment was so comfortable and he buried his head in ur shoulders as he thanked u for the fun date

- everything kept replaying in his head later that night when he was going to bed and he realizes just how bad he’s got it for u :’)

THIS WAS SO FUN TO DO AHH i feel like i did harry a bit wrong here so,,,,, i’ll probably edit it once i finish all my requests. thank you once again for requesting and i am super sorry that this was late, but i’ve finally recovered fully from covid so i should be back to regular posting again!!! i’ll have the rest of the fellows done soon <3

> lychee

[romanogers-lyrics]

TFAWS EP 3: *screeching intensifies*

Bucky “Let me float you a hypothetical” Barnes.

Sam “Keep talking but I want it on the record that I objected to this plan” Wilson

Damn Zemo got a whole ass jet and garage of cars. How is it that his assets were still intact after he was arrested? Can you get Sam his loan please, daddy?

On a serious note, to all those saying the stakes in Civil War were fake bc tony and Steve made up I demand you look at all the ways team cap was affected by the accords.

The theme of “doing the right thing above all else” is clearly so important to both Sam and Bucky. Goddamn I love team cap 😪

Sharon is a wealthy art dealer and I love it!

People including me were so worried about her being just another love interest but she literally saves their asses twice!!! She has agency and motives entirely her own.

The entire Madripoor sequence was gorgeous. Nothing was half assed set and cinematography wise.

The baby bois all dressed up and ready to kill people 🔪

Sam caring and being worried about Bucky like 🥺

I am honestly so fucking proud of Bucky for being strong through Zemo’s orders. It had to be so hard. Can someone tell bucky “I’m proud of you”?

Goddamnit take your eyes off Zemo for one second...oh wait he didn’t betray them yet...

No! Sharon come back! *grabby hands*

Anyone notice how the CIA was the first to try and make the serum after Siberia. The CIA who literally locked up and hunted Bucky another super soldier then tried to lock up cap. Same agency. No wonder the world hates American imperialism jezusssss

Sam: “I made a mistake (with the shield)...” yes! Say it! “I should have destroyed it.” Goddamnit smdh.

I get the shield is a mixed legacy but you can’t also destroy the good and the potential for good. One of the examples is sitting right in front of you, Sammy. Also I REFUSE to believe that SAM “on your left” WILSON would destroy his one gift from cap. I suppose “I should have kept it in my house” doesn’t sound as dramatic🙃

Bucky says he’d take over the shield before letting it be destroyed. Hopefully as Sam warms to Bucky he’ll see how the shield can symbolize good.

Truly I believe symbols/mantles are just tools that you can use for good or evil. I believe that in Sam’s hand it could be used for good. It’s a lot to ask but I forget the saying but something like: “those who fear power are the best people to hold it”

It’s so hard to know who is the “bad guy” in this show. Probably the point I know. The freedom fighters have a seemingly good agenda but then they blow up a building. Smdh we don’t trade lives dontcha know...

Who is the power broker? What’s his plan? We haven’t met him/her yet...

Bucky likes 40s music and is PROUD of it. He wrote his redemption list in Steve’s notebook 😭

Fake!cap gets 0.0001% of the screen time 🤣😂(which I find so mf comforting 😘, maybe that’s why I like this episode so much). That being said gotta analyze the small time he did have... he literally thinks he’s TOO GOOD to speak in another language than English. Forces his friend to do the talking but still expects respect 😬. Fuuuuck u fake!cap 🖕🏻. I’m sorry my non American friends. We don’t know this white man 🙇🏻‍♀️

The ending THE ENDING had me YeLLiNg at the screen. Fakdkwbfjw I’m not gonna spoil it but I just-

On the writing/directing- I feel this episode had better pacing of rising action and drama. More showing less exposition dump which honestly is hard in marvel (some audience are walking encyclopedias and some just started watching this year).

The traumaaaaaaa in this whole show. I just wanna give everyone a 1 minute hug. Godddamn. Especially given the context of this show coming during the covid pandemic hits so hard 🙃

Fr though I know the topics in this show are triggering for some people so please take care of yourself ❤️

On another level I think it’s kinda funny how Steve thought he was so special for having the serum then it was like ACTUALLY Bucky is a super soldier OH AND there are more super soldiers in Siberia. OH and like 8 more super soldiers in TFAWS. Oh there’s ALSO a black super soldier. 😂 like Steve is still special because of his morals and personality but yeah... love you cap 😘

Please feel free share your thoughts! Would make my day! Love ya’ll💕

My episode 2 review:

[fruitcoops]

would u write about the night of remus’s first goal and sirius just WORSHIPPING remus

Did someone say 3200 words of Coops being comfortable around each other even while ~spicy times~ are happening and the start of a 3-part smut series? No? Oops :)

Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, a rampant praise kink, and both people laughing during sex

The Lions were everything to Sirius. They were his brothers, his family, his whole life. With Remus on the team, that feeling had only grown, and celebrating a win with them brought a sense of euphoria that was unmatched by pretty much everything.

And yet he wanted to be anywhere but the locker room right then.

Talker and Remus were laughing on the other side of the room while the cubs chanted “Loops, Loops, Loops!” at the top of their lungs; Remus’ two goals had given them the edge they needed to crush the Badgers 6-2 in the first game of the season; Sirius was bursting with pride, but the wait was killing him.

His leg bounced up and down as he zipped and unzipped his duffel for the millionth time. Remus was flushed with victory and alight with latent adrenaline—Sirius felt a little guilty for wanting to pull him away from the celebration that he rightfully deserved. You’re beautiful, he shouted internally. You’re so beautiful and how am I supposed to wait a decent amount of time before dragging you home?

“The fuck are you scowling at?” James laughed as he leaned over his stall and smacked Sirius on the shoulder with his glove. “Hey, earth to Cap. We won the game, man.”

“I know, I know.”

“We won by a lot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Your fiancé scored two perfect goals, I don’t see the prob—oh. Ohhhh.” His eyes widened and he bit his lip mischievously. “I get it now. Hey, Loops!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sirius hissed as Remus looked over at them. His smile softened when he saw Sirius. Pretty, was all his brain supplied.

“Sup, Pots?” he asked, wandering over and running a hand through his hair.

“You two should head home early,” James said faux-casually.

Remus frowned. “I thought we were going to get dinner with the team?”

Sirius died a little inside at that, but it was fine. You’re the captain, he reminded himself. You have to be part of team events.

But I don’t want to, the hyped-up, besotted, and incredibly horny part of him whined.

“Nah, I’ve got to plan for…Lils and I’s anniversary. Also, nobody really made final decisions on where we were going anyway.” It was clearly a lie, but Sirius appreciated his effort.

“Okay,” Remus said suspiciously, drawing out the word. “Is this some sort of prank? Are you trying to get me to leave so you can fuck with my stall or something? If I find anymore shaving cream, I swear—”

“Oh, my god,” James groaned, grabbing Remus by the shoulders and giving him a little shake. Thinnest patience in the world, Sirius thought wryly. “Go home. Celebrate. Please get railed by your fiancé before his grumpy vibes seep into the walls.”

Remus’ eyes went wide and he looked down at Sirius, who was desperately trying to suppress a blush. “Wha—you—oh. Okay. Um, yeah, that’s cool.” His eyes narrowed when he turned back at James. “Bold of you to assume he’s doing the railing. Stereotypes, much?”

“That’s your issue?” Sirius asked incredulously.

James rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please go home and get laid or do whatever it is you do to banish the cranky captain aura. Better?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Remus glanced back to Sirius. “Are you ready to head out?”

“He’s been packed for ten full minutes,” James said, turning him around and pushing him toward his stall. “Go.”

“Was that really necessary?” Sirius sighed as Remus packed his bag in a rush.

“I could have yelled it across the room,” James pointed out. “Also, you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you for not being as much of an asshole as you could have been.” Sirius stood up and knocked their foreheads together. “You played really well tonight, by the way.”

“Thanks, Captain,” James teased, giving him a little push. “Not a bad start to the season, eh?”

“Not bad at all.”

“Baby, you ready?” Remus asked, his voice a little tight as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Heat flashed through Sirius’ body and he gripped the edge of the stall; next to him, James started snickering. “Shut it, Pots.”

“Have fun, you two!” James called as they headed for the door.

“I’m telling Lily you forgot your anniversary!” Remus shouted back over his shoulder while Sirius dragged him along by the hand.

By the time they made it to the parking lot, Sirius could feel his heartbeat in his ears. He crowded Remus against the passenger door and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, gripping his waist and grinding slowly until their breaths came in short gasps.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” Remus panted as he pulled on Sirius’ lower lip. “Any particular reason?”

“You. Just—you.” Sirius moved to his neck and Remus keened as he nibbled along his jawline and throat. “You have no idea how good you look on the ice. That first goal was perfect, and then you got another one—”

Remus laughed, combing his fingers through the curls that fell into Sirius’ eyes. “Now you know how I felt for months. We should definitely get in the car or else I’m getting on my knees right fucking now and that’s going to be embarrassing for us both.”

Ten incredibly tense minutes later, Sirius was fumbling with the house key as Remus kissed his neck and slid his chilly hands under the back of his shirt. As soon as the door swung open, he spun around and dragged him inside, kicking the door closed behind them and all but slamming Remus against the wall.

“Have I told you recently how much I—hnnn—love that you’re a switch?” Remus’ breath caught as Sirius pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor next to their shoes.

“Ditto.” Sirius felt him wobble a little and grinned. “Sweetheart?”

“Mhm?”

“We should go upstairs.”

Remus sighed and let his head fall forward onto Sirius’ shoulder. “Since when are you reasonable?”

“Since we need a bed as soon as possible.”

“We do?”

“We really do.” Remus grabbed Sirius’ hand and they practically ran to the stairs, pausing every few moments to kiss or bump against whatever they left laying around earlier that afternoon. Hattie cocked an ear when they passed her, but she settled back down—it was far past her bedtime. They made it halfway up the staircase before Remus pressed Sirius’ back into the wall, kissed the living hell out of him, and pulled his shirt over his head. “Twenty more feet.”

“Right here.”

“Twenty more feet and I’ll get you off twice.”

Remus’ breath audibly rushed out of his lungs and a full-body shiver ran through him; Sirius took advantage of the pause to take his hands and guide him backwards up the remaining stairs and into their bedroom. “Is this how you always felt after games?”

“Winning ones, yeah,” Sirius managed as he pulled Remus’ belt off with a sharp snap. Remus’ pupils dilated at the sound, and he raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“Totally okay, but I’m going to be laying awake having a very interesting inner monologue later,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Whew.”

“You’re going to be too tired to do anything once I’m through with you.”

Remus bit down gently on the side of his neck. “Promise?”

“You’re so fucking kinky, holy shit.” Sirius’ stomach filled with butterflies and he picked Remus up—the bed bounced as he dropped him on it, hovering over his heaving chest. “I love watching you skate, you know.”

“Clearly.”

“You were incredible out there.” Their jeans and socks came off quickly until only boxers were in the way. He carefully lowered himself and Remus’ leg jerked up on reflex as he ground down in a hard roll. “So fast, so graceful. They always underestimate you.”

“I am not going to last if you keep that up.”

“Yes, you will. You know why?”

A spark of interest lit in Remus’ eye. “Why?”

Sirius leaned down next to his ear. “Because you’re good.”

“Oh, fuck,” Remus breathed, canting his hips upward until Sirius shifted so the heels of his palms pressed against those sharp bones and held him down. “My heart is beating so hard right now.”

“I know, I can feel it,” Sirius laughed as he moved to kiss Remus’ throat and collarbone, which caught the moonlight through the bedroom window perfectly and cast shadows on the left side of his chest. “Mon coeur. Do you have the lube?”

Both of them winced as Remus’ hand smacked against the nightstand in his rush and Sirius kissed his knuckles, rubbing away the redness with one hand while uncapping the lube with the other. He scooted down the bed until his shoulders fit between Remus’ thighs—his thighs, holy fuck, Sirius had almost forgotten about those—and ran a light finger down the front of his boxers.

Remus twitched as Sirius leaned in to mouth at the hard line of him and ran one of his hands down the soft skin on his inner thigh, but he couldn’t move much and that only turned him on more. He squeezed tightly once with a desperate, half-gasped plea, then relaxed as Sirius kissed the inside of his knee. “Deep breaths, sweetheart. You’re doing so good.”

“I am?”

“You are, I promise.” Sirius slid back up until they were face-to-face and began pulling Remus’ boxers down as he kissed each of his cheeks. “Hey. You scored two goals tonight.”

“I did,” Remus said with a foxlike smile.

“I think that calls for a certain degree of celebration.” Sirius pushed his finger in at last and Remus arched his back, practically begging him to push him down again with a silent challenge. “I promised to get you off twice, right?”

“You did.”

“Except you also won the face-off.” Sirius couldn’t keep a smile down as Remus’ eyes widened. “Think you can do three?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, his eyes glazing over as Sirius added another finger. “I’m going to win every single game we play if this is what ha-happens do that again baby please.”

“Really? You’ll win every game?” Sirius crooked his fingers again and drew a low groan from him.

“Yes. Yes, every time.”

“I believe you’ll win, but I think you’d miss topping. I’d miss it.” Remus’ hands returned to his hair and tugged lightly until he kissed him. “You always feel so good, sweetheart, and I know you like being in control sometimes.”

“Are you calling me bossy?”

“Yeah. I love it. I love you.” The words were sweet on Sirius’ lips as the sharp edges of Remus’ smile smoothed out and he practically purred beneath him. The third finger slid in without an issue; as Sirius internally lost his mind, Remus rolled his shoulders back happily. “Ready?”

“So ready, c’mon.”

The first glide was immaculate, and it only built from there. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ chest as he moved—the frantic fuck-me-now adrenaline rush they had arrived with had begun melting away sometime during the last ten minutes, but Sirius still buzzed with energy and he felt the slight tremble of Remus’ anticipation everywhere their skin touched.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, running his hands down Remus’ ribs. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were flushed rosy red, mussed curls tumbling over his forehead and splayed in a halo against the pillows. “Look at me, mon coeur. You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, like liquid gold.”

“Hopeless romantic.” Remus shuddered a sigh as their gazes locked and a well-placed thrust rippled through him. “Good?”

“Good.” Sirius ducked his head and laughed quickly. “I’m so fucking glad you have a praise kink, by the way.”

“Oh, really?”

“It’s the best. All I have to say is you’re taking me so well—” he lowered his voice to a satiny rumble and the tendons in Remus’ neck seized. “—and you’re a puddle.”

“I am, I am, just—just a little higher, please.”

“Look at you, using your manners,” Sirius teased. He obliged, though, and he felt Remus’ skin heat up beneath his palms as his knee pressed into Sirius’ waist.

“Oh, fuck off.” Remus shook his head with a smile and drew him back in for a long kiss.

Kissing Remus was something special. His lips were soft and demanding at the same time, growing progressively more urgent as Sirius picked up the pace and small sounds punched from his lungs.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Remus managed, tugging on his shoulder. Sirius stopped immediately, but when he went to pull out Remus placed a hand on his hip. “No. Stay.”

A tingling sensation washed over Sirius when he registered Remus’ change in tone. His voice was lower, smoother, brooking no room for argument. “Are you alright?” he ventured.

The corners of Remus’ lips quirked up and in a smooth motion, he flipped them over so he was straddling Sirius’ hips and kneading his chest with the heels of his hands. “There we go,” he said, tilting his head to the side and jutting his chin at the angle Sirius knew as hold on tight.

And then he just kind of…stayed there.

Sirius relaxed into it, settling his hands on Remus’ hips as he ground down a bit. “You can move if you want,” he said after a moment.

Remus’ jaw ticked. “I’m trying.”

Oh, shit, is it me? Sirius took his hands away, but he hadn’t been gripping hard enough for there to be light marks, let alone stop Remus from moving. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, I can’t actually…” Remus’ nose scrunched up and his thighs clenched, then quaked and gave out. “I’m okay, but I think my legs are tired.”

“From the game? Are you kidding?” Sirius leaned back on the pillows and laughed, long and loud. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“Shut up!” Remus swatted his chest, though he was laughing as well. “I can do it, just give me a sec.”

Sirius wheezed as the pressure on his chest increased and batted at his wrists. “Nope, nope, you’re going to break me. We can go back to what we were doing before.”

“I can do this.”

“No, you can’t,” Sirius snickered.

Remus readjusted himself and tried again—he rose less than an inch before the trembling in his thigh muscles took hold and sank him back down. It felt fine and Sirius was glad for the closeness, but he knew it would feel better if Remus let him turn them over.

After a moment of hesitation, Remus stared up at the ceiling and burst out laughing again. “You’re right, I’m so sore right now, this is ridiculous.”

“Come here.” He slid off him with a slight wince and Sirius sat up against the headboard, holding his arms out. He closed his eyes with a contented hum as Remus kissed his forehead and snuggled into him. “I’m sorry you’re sore.”

“It was worth it.”

“Do you want to take a break?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love cuddling with you, but I was promised three orgasms tonight and I’m still so horny.”

“Oh, thank god, me too.” Sirius guided him back to the mattress by his shoulders and grabbed the lube from where it had been abandoned at the foot of the bed. He slicked up his dick again and stroked Remus a few times as well before pushing back in with steady pressure. “Still okay?”

“Hell yeah,” Remus sighed, reaching out to trail his thumb under Sirius’ eye. “It’s always good with you.”

Sirius turned to kiss the inside of his wrist. “You’re always good for me.”

“That was smooth.” Slender fingers traveled up and tucked a stray curl back into place. Sirius hadn’t even realized it was in the way until Remus moved it.

“You’re obsessed with my hair, aren’t you,” he said, sliding his hands down to scratch lightly at the sides of his thighs.

Remus shrugged, though his hold tightened minutely. “It’s soft and it’s pretty.”

Sirius dragged his lips down Remus’ forearm, kissed the crook of his elbow, and then continued along his bicep and shoulder. His summer freckles were tragically faded, but the salty tang of sweat and Remus was more than enough incentive for him to leave small love bites in his wake. “You’re soft and pretty.”

“Hmmm, okay.” He didn’t have to look up to know what Remus’ face would look like—eyes closed, sated smile, light lines of tension through his neck and upper chest. “I love the sound of your voice when you’re turned on.”

Sirius paused. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of like thu—huh.” Remus shifted his position at the same time Sirius leaned up to look at him; whatever he did, it must have been good, because his mouth fell open in surprise. “Thunder. Um. Hmm. Can you…?” Rather than telling Sirius what he wanted, he squirmed for a second, tilting his hips up and making small, frustrated noises.

“Hold on—hold on, Re, what are you trying to do?”

“You did something really good right then and I don’t remember what it was but I’m so fucking close.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius blinked away some of his own sex-induced haziness and registered the slight tremor in his hands, as well as the glassy look in his eyes.

“Oh, okay. Hey, lay back and let me take care of it. Tonight is all about you.” He pulled Remus’ hands up to his back and pulled his leg up around his waist, tracing the muscle divots lightly.

What did I do before? Sirius thrusted in with slow, deep rolls while he thought. He had been leaning to the side a bit, and then Remus lifted up slightly…oh. Smug pride filled his veins as he kept one forearm firmly across Remus’ navel and brushed the other hand over the top of his dick.

“Yeah, that,” Remus said weakly as he stretched his arms over his head.

“This is it?” Sirius added a little extra pressure to his arm and his dick throbbed in response. “Good job, using your words.”

“Mmm.”

“How close are you now?” he asked, running his palm around the head until Remus’ legs jolted around him.

“So close,” he whispered. “C’mon, just a little more, pleasepleaseplease.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Sirius said, sliding his hands beneath Remus’ lower back and propping him up an extra inch for the best angle. “Come for me.”

His harsh grip on the sheets relaxed as he came, eyelashes fluttering and mumbling under his breath. Remus didn’t fall apart or seize up, just melted into Sirius’ arms with a low moan. Sirius didn’t even realize his own orgasm was approaching until he heard his name on Remus’ kiss-swollen lips and the world vanished for a moment.

When he came back into himself, gentle fingers were running through his hair. “Sweetheart,” he said fondly. He pulled out nice and slow, but remained a boneless weight on top of Remus.

“Hey, handsome.” Remus’ voice was scratchy.

“Congratulations on your first goal.”

“I thought that was just for the face-off?”

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 22

A/N:  So this chapter actually marks the end of the plot line of the movie “The Devil Wears Prada” -- I’m sure the dialogue after the Zamboni driver game from last chapter and the “By all means, move at a glacial place, you know how that thrills me” line was a bit of a hint.  Also, we’re striking that last scene where Andie apologizes to Nate in the restaurant because she had absolutely nothing to apologize for 😤 ANYWAYS, this means that from this point, up until maaaaaybe the final FINAL chapters (whenever this thing ends, because I still don’t know when), all content and storyline is original and not based on the movie, although it will still obviously be inspired by it.  We love consistency!  Have a great read, and enjoy!  Let me know what you think as always!

February 24th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom watched as Brendan and Kyle were answering phones left, right, and centre.

Seriously.  At one point, Kyle had three on his ears.  He didn’t have three ears.  All because of the damned trade deadline.  And it was still only 9:30 in the morning.  

The room was set up the way she was told to set it up; prepared how Brendan wanted it prepared.  Every major voice for both the Leafs and the Marlies was in the room – Brendan, Kyle, Brandon, Dave, Reid, Leanne, Sheldon, Paul, Dave, Andrew, Jim, Troy, and even Laurence, Mike, Greg, AJ, and Rob from the Toronto Marlies.  At the front of the room, on the whiteboard, there were the names of all the players – even those in the system – glued to magnets so they could move them around.  On the other side were magnets with names of some other players from teams that they’d been looking at bringing in through a trade.  Three phones were hooked up in the room, and Brendan and Kyle were on their cellphones a lot.  There was a TV set up for video playback and hooked up to Reid’s laptop.  Brendan would exit and enter the board room at will while he was on his phone.  So would Kyle.  Kyle was dealing with most of the possible cap stuff.  There were worksheets everywhere.  

And in the back of Aberdeen’s mind, all she could think about was Tyson Barrie.

He’d been on her mind since the drive home, really, and since all the ramp up for the trade deadline started.  And she couldn’t help but wonder if Brendan and Kyle knew of him wanting to be traded and him being unhappy.  Did Brendan and Kyle concern themselves with the private lives of their players?  Even if the player said nothing?  That was the ultimate question Aberdeen needed answered, because now that she recognized all the clues, it was glaringly obvious to her how much Tyson wanted out.  She hadn’t said anything, obviously.  His name magnet wasn’t moving around much, but she knew how much he wanted to be moved.  She was conflicted.  

“This motherfu…” she heard Brendan mumble as he looked down at his phone.  “Can someone post a memo to the entire fucking league that we’re not trading Nylander, for fuck sakes,” he announced to the room.  “The core isn’t on the fucking table unless Connor Mc-fucking-David is in the mix.”

Aberdeen let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she was holding in.  William being traded was not, for some reason, a worry of hers, if only because everyone knew he was having a banner year and Kyle had made explicitly clear that he wasn’t going to be traded so long as he was GM.  

Kapanen.

Johnsson.  

Gauthier.

Holl.

Ceci.

“It’s not in his contract but Spezza won’t go anywhere.  He wants to be here.”

“If Johnsson goes it’s one less player we offer up to Seattle when the time comes.”

“Can Kappy go?  He’s good bait.  He’s got a friendly contract.”

It didn’t help that everything ended at 3pm.  It also didn’t help that they had a charter flight waiting for them at 4:30 to take them to Tampa for their game tomorrow.  Aberdeen didn’t know how they were going to handle this timeline.  What if they made a blockbuster trade?  What if someone was shipped off to the west coast at 2:59pm and had to uproot his whole life?  Everybody in the room wasn’t exactly calm, but she didn’t know how they could take about trading these players as if they were cattle being moved.  She knew this happened in all sports, but now that she was a part of it (well, in the room – it wasn’t like she was making decisions), it made everything more complicated for her.  

“Tyson’s staying.  Tyson – no – Tyson – Tyson is – Tyson is staying,” she heard Brendan repeating to Kyle, in what looked like a semi-private conversation.  She couldn’t hear some of the other things he was saying, but some words were said loud enough.  Contract.  Avalanche.  Kadri trade.  Defense.  Rielly-Barrie.  

Happy.

Aberdeen gulped.  Did Brendan think he was happy here?  Did Kyle?  Because she knew the exact opposite.  She knew Tyson wasn’t, but she was sworn to secrecy by Tyson that she wouldn’t say a word to Brendan.  But Brendan was wrong.  Tyson wanted out.  

Should…should she say something?

She liked Tyson.  She wanted to see him happy.  It was complicated, though, because she had no loyalty to him.  She did, in a way, as an acquaintance – as someone who overheard a private conversation and then was asked not to share the details of it – but she had more loyalty to Brendan.  Her boss.  The guy who was trying to build a team that would win the Stanley Cup.  The guy that her job depended on.  

“Aberdeen.”

Like, who was she loyal to the most?  If she actually said something to Brendan, would Tyson hate her forever?  Would the entire team turn their back on her and hate her forever too?  Because she couldn’t shut her mouth?  Because she was a tattle-tale and exposed—

“Aberdeen.”

—exposed a secret of one of the players to the boss?  But that secret was tied to his mental health.  It’s not like she saw a guy hook up with a teammate’s girlfriend or escort or do blow off a toilet seat or something.  This was integral to the well-being of a player—

“Aberdeen!”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see and hear Brendan calling her over.  She jumped out of her seat and ran over to him.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  Sorry.  What do you need?”

“I think Chipotle is in order for lunch for everyone,” he said.  “Do you mind taking everyone’s orders?”

Seventeen Chipotle orders later, Aberdeen was waiting in the restaurant at a bar table, most definitely holding up the line that was starting to form due to her massive order.  She took out her phone and saw that William had texted her a heart earlier but she hadn’t seen it.  He had the day off.

how bad does tyson want out of Toronto? be honest

how do u know?

i overheard him and emma talking when they drove me home once is it really bad?

can i call u?

no

it’s not that he doesn’t like it here bc he loves the guys and he likes the city well he really didn’t like babs i think that’s a given but he found it really hard to transition from colorado to here like he couldn’t adjust and support wise he didn’t or doesn’t feel he’s been supported enough and he’s trying his hardest to mesh within the lines and be the guy he was in colorado but he just can’t and it’s driving him crazy

Aberdeen felt herself take a deep breath.  Not that she thought the conversation in the car was out of the blue or a one-off, but at least she had confirmation from another source now.  She couldn’t help but wonder if Tyson talked to the guys on the team about it.  Like, was it an open secret between them?  

why r u asking minskatt

She knew she’d have to lie about that one.  Even though William was her boyfriend, she couldn’t reveal any secrets of what was happening in that war room.  If she did, Brendan would probably put her head in a guillotine.  

all i see on twitter and the sports channels is us moving him they think they’re in the war room with us but they’re not and it’s just funny to me that they already think it’s a done deal

welcome to the toronto media i am getting traded too, haven’t u heard 😉

Aberdeen smiled.  He was such a little shit.  

you’re never leaving me.

never, minskatt ❤️

“Alright, I got seventeen bowls!” the cashier yelled, and Aberdeen knew that was her cue.  They were all stuffed into multiple bags and labelled appropriately, so she handed over the company card to pay.  Holding the four bags in both hands, she made her way back towards the office.  

When she got back, it was very chaotic.  The reports were now everywhere.  Half the people in the room had left to do God knows what.  Kyle was frustrated on the phone with someone.  And Brendan was nowhere to be seen.  “You might want to find him,” Kyle said as Aberdeen handed him his burrito bowl.  His hand was covering the receiver.  

Aberdeen nodded frantically.  She stopped putting all the burrito bowls on the table where people had been sitting, but for some reason grabbed Brendan’s before she began running around the halls, popping into rooms to search for him.  He was nowhere.  She tried texting and calling.  Nothing.  She thought about screaming his name down the hall.  Her mind was getting the best of her.  Why did Kyle need him?  Who was he on the phone with?  

Were they about to make a trade for Tyson?

She needed to find him.  She needed to tell him.

After circling the halls twice, she finally saw him walking, his winter jacket on, phone to his ear before ending the call and walking towards the board room.  “Brendan, Brendan, wait.  I need to talk to you,” she scurried to his side.  “Tyson Barrie wants to be moved.  He told—I overheard a conversation between him and his girlfriend in the car once when they were driving me home after a flight about how deeply unhappy he was here and how he sort of knew he was going to get traded or at least wanted to get traded somewhere so he wouldn’t have to be here and have the pressure on him and maybe be happy again and I promised him I wouldn’t say anything to you but now I am because I thought that maybe if I told you, that you could fix it—”

“Do I smell chicken?” Brendan asked suddenly, taking off his jacket.  

Aberdeen stopped.  Her brain felt like it just short-circuited.  “What?  No.  I—I specifically told them the beef bowl for you—”

“If I have chicken in mine, I will be very disappointed,” he said, taking his burrito bowl from her hands and giving her his jacket instead before disappearing into the conference room, leaving Aberdeen standing there in shock.  

***

The New York Rangers traded Brady Skjei for a first round pick.  The Edmonton Oilers acquired Tyler Ennis, who Aberdeen knew was one of Bee McTavish’s best friends.  Patrick Marleau went to the Pittsburgh Penguins.

But the Leafs stayed quiet.  Calle Rosen came back.  That’s it.  Tyson wasn’t moved.  He was staying a Toronto Maple Leaf.  Aberdeen wondered what he was feeling right now.  She wondered if he and Emma already had their bags packed for nothing.  As everybody went home, Aberdeen cleaned up the boardroom.  When it was time to go to the airport, she went to her desk to grab her suitcase.  Brendan was waiting outside his office.  

The walk to the town car was quiet.  The loading of their suitcases into the trunk was quiet.  The getting into the back of the car together was quiet.  The sitting there as Lou drove through the downtown streets and onto the highway to get to the airport was quiet.  

“You thought I didn’t know…” Brendan began, his voice low as he stared out the window.  When she heard his voice, Aberdeen turned her head slowly towards him.  “I’ve known what was happening for quite some time.  It just took me a while to find out what to do with Tyson.  A few teams were interested, and were probably willing, come July, to make him absurdly overpaid that he would have jumped at it.  But I had to tell everyone he was unavailable.”

Aberdeen felt a shiver run up her spine.  Unavailable?  If Brendan knew Tyson wanted to be moved – if he knew how unhappy he was – then why wouldn’t he move him?  

“The truth is, there is no-one available in the league right now that can fill his place on our team, regardless of how unhappy he is,” Brendan continued.  “Any of the other players would have found this job impossible and the team would have suffered.  Especially because of the way the media is here.  The list of writers, journalists, media personalities, analysts…they eat the players alive.  It takes a very special type of player to want to play in Toronto.  That’s why it was, and is still, such a big deal that John came home.  Hockey is a business, Aberdeen.  I’ve known for a while he was unhappy.  But I couldn’t trade him.  I couldn’t reconsider.”

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  And there it was.  Tyson Barrie was more valuable deeply unhappy here than he was happy somewhere else.  The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.  Hockey was a business, just like Brendan said.  Despite her best intentions, good people had to make tough decisions – Brendan’s was to keep Tyson on the team.  Brendan wanted to win more than anything, and he still thought he could do that with Tyson.

“But I was very, very impressed, by how intently you tried to warn me,” Brendan continued, finally looking at her.  Aberdeen found it hard to meet his eye, not showing any emotion on her face.  “I never thought I would say this, Aberdeen, but I really…I see a great deal of myself in you.  You can see beyond what people want and what they need…and you can choose for yourself.”

Aberdeen shook her head slightly.  “I don’t think I’m like that.  I – I could do what you just did to Tyson.  I couldn’t do something like that.”

“Hmph…but you already did,” Brendan said.  “To Peter.”

Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out dramatically.  “That’s not what I – no, that was different.  I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh no no no, you chose,” Brendan said sternly.  “You chose to get ahead.  You want to be successful in this life, those choices are necessary.”

Aberdeen felt like she was about to cry.  She could feel her cheeks redden.  “But what if this isn’t what I want?  I mean, what if I don’t want to live the way you live or be in a career the way you conduct your career?  Not caring about people’s happiness and only caring about success.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aberdeen.  Everybody wants this.  Everybody wants to be successful.  Even writers.”

Aberdeen hadn’t even noticed Lou had stopped the car because they’d arrive at the airport.  She could only watch as the door unlocked and Brendan slipped on his sunglasses for the bright winter sun, getting out of the car and walking back to the trunk to get his suitcase.  Aberdeen took a minute to process everything.  What Brendan had just said.  What he revealed to her.  

Dumb.  She was so dumb.  And she still had so much to learn.  

Aberdeen was quiet as she walked into the airport with Brendan.  She was quiet as they checked in, quiet as they walked to their private hangar, quiet as she saw some of the boys and quiet as she plopped down into a seat, stuffing her headphones into her ears.  She knew she should be thankful to be spending her 22nd birthday in Florida, but now, all she could think about was the conversation she’d just had with Brendan.  Even William arriving almost didn’t even register with her.

She napped on the plane, not wanting to deal with hockey for at least an hour of her day.  

***

The hotel was taking too long to get the key cards and reservations sorted for everyone.  Aberdeen tried not to huff and puff, but she was tired.  She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to out for dinner.  After the stress of the last two days, and especially today, she just wanted to get under the covers of her bed and sleep.  Sleep would make her happy again.  More than anything, she wanted to be in a good mood for her birthday tomorrow, even if she was working.

“Ab-er-deeeeeeeen Blooooooooom,” the way-too-perky helper called out her name.  Aberdeen approached her and got her room key, mumbling a thank you.  She was on the 5th floor.  

Auston had followed behind her, grabbing his as well.  When they rejoined the loosely assembled group, he took a look at her.  “You look really tired, Aberdeen,” he commented.

She glared at him.  She couldn’t believe the audacity of him.  She’d just been up for almost two days straight because of the stupid trade deadline.  Lucky for him that he didn’t have to work the last two days.  And lucky for him that he didn’t have to worry about being traded like most of the other guys on the team.  He could at least sleep at night knowing he wasn’t going to be traded for the next five years.  “You can just say I look like shit, you know,” she deadpanned.  

Auston’s eyes bulged out.  “No no no—I didn’t mean—”

“Whatever, Auston,” she grumbled, shaking her head.  “I know I look like shit, alright?  I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Aberdeen, I didn’t mean it like that at all—”

“It’s fine,” she shook her head again, grabbing her suitcase and dragging it behind her as she stomped away from him.  She didn’t have time for his excuses or for him trying to cover up his tracks.  She practically punched the elevator button so she could go up to her room before everybody else.  Screw waiting for everyone.  

She was barely able to unpack her toiletries into her washroom before the first text came through on her phone.  Of course, it was William.

saw u stomping away what happened?

She wasn’t exactly going to tell him what Auston said because God knows what he would do.

I’m just tired Willy.  I’ve practically been up for 48 hours.

but u need to eat

I’ll order room service, but I’m not going out for dinner.

She left it at that.  She heard her phone buzz a few times afterwards but she made a conscious decision not to answer it.  She needed to be alone with her thoughts instead.  She didn’t need to be around Auston telling her she looked tired.  She didn’t need to be around Willy who would be staring at her all night.  She didn’t need to be around Mitch and his hyperactive puppy personality.  She didn’t need to be around Tyson who was probably sulking at the fact that he wasn’t trad—

A knock.

She took her sweet time going to open it.  When she did, she was greeted with Jason Spezza and Jake Muzzin on the other side.  She almost wanted to shut the door in their face but knew that would be the rudest thing she’d ever done.  “We’re going for tacos.  You in?”

“No.”

It was actually Jake who looked more taken aback by her statement than Jason.  She figured it was because Jason knew better.  “No to tacos?  I think that’s the first time in my life I’ve ever heard anyone say no to tacos.”

Aberdeen cracked a half smile.  “Have fun guys, but I’m exhausted.  I’ve been up for like two days because of the deadline.”

“That’s all the more reason for you to get a healthy meal in,” Jake pressed.  

Before she could politely decline again, she saw two figures out of the corner of her eye walking down the hallway towards them.  One was William – she could figure him out from miles away just by how his hair looked – but once the other came into focus, a lump formed in her throat.  Tyson was with him.  

“We goin’ for tacos or what?” Tyson asked.  There was a smile on his face.  A fake one for sure, Aberdeen thought, all things considering.

And then it happened.  She felt the blood and emotion rush to her cheeks, and she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility for the man that was standing in front of her right now.  She’d tried to help him and her attempt failed.  And in that attempt to help, she betrayed him.  She couldn’t even look him in the eye.  “Please, just go,” she shook her head.  

“What?  What’s going on?” Jake looked in between Tyson and Aberdeen.

“Will you guys just leave me alone?” she pleaded, her voice strained as she felt tears well in her eyes.  “Please.  I’m so tired and I’m so—”

“Inside your room, now,” Jason pointed to her bed, not even waiting for her to make the first move, and instead just walking in himself.  Everybody followed – everybody except William – who took his spot leaning on the doorway so he wasn’t actually in her room.  But he was watching.  And every muscle in his body wanted to walk in with everyone.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked softly.  “What’s the real issue here?”

Aberdeen shook her head.  She still couldn’t look Tyson in the eye, but when she could, she almost broke down.  It took every ounce of strength in her not to burst out crying and maintain some type of composure.  “I’m so sorry.  I tried, I really tried—” she began.

“Tried what?” Tyson asked.

She hesitated.  “Listen, I know – I’ll understand if you hate me forever because of this – I know you told me not to tell Brendan what I heard Emma say in the car, but I couldn’t help it,” she began.  Tyson’s face visibly softened.  “I thought that maybe if I told him he’d actually deal you out, and you could be—you could be happy again, you know, or at least somewhere where—”

“Aberdeen—”

“—but he couldn’t, and he didn’t, and I just feel horrible for betraying you by telling him and I feel so responsible now for everything that happened and I can’t live with myself—”

“—Aberdeen, are you apologizing right now because I wasn’t traded?” Tyson asked.  Aberdeen didn’t respond.  “Aberdeen, come on.  You’re not the general manager or the president.”

“But I could have helped—”

“No, you couldn’t have,” he shook his head.  Though his words were short there was a softness and a sentimentality in his voice, even a hint of surprise that she’d even go so far as to feel responsible for not being able to deal him to another team.  He understood what she was getting at, understood why she was mad and was feeling this way, but ultimately, he was shocked that she was getting so emotional over it.  “You’re not responsible for that sort of stuff, Aberdeen.  I know you were trying to help, and I thank you for that, but the responsibility of what happens on trade deadline day falls on absolutely nobody in this room, not least the personal assistant to the president.”

She sniffled slightly.  “I just thought that if I told him he’d be more inclined—”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he shook his head, looking her in the eye.  “But thanks.  I appreciate what you did in its own way.  Just remember that it’s not your job to write the narrative.”

He was telling that to an aspiring writer.  Go figure.  But Aberdeen took in the words, really took them to heart, as she nodded her head quickly.  “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.  And I don’t hate you,” Tyson said.  “I see where you’re coming from.  Just maybe don’t try to do it again.”

She let out the slightest of chuckles.  “Yeah, I think that’s best.”

“William?  What are you doing in Aberdeen’s room?”

Everybody whipped their heads towards the doorway to see Brendan Shanahan peeking in.  Aberdeen thanked the fucking Lord (and would probably pray the entire rosary tonight) over the fact that she was able to control her emotions and not cry during the interaction, and also that two of the men currently in her room were married with children and the other had a serious girlfriend or else it would all look very suspicious.  Brendan took a few steps in and saw Jason, Jake, and Tyson.  He didn’t look suspicious, but he didn’t exactly look happy.  He had a neutral look Aberdeen couldn’t make out.  “I’m not sure if I like four of you in Aberdeen’s room like this,” he said.  

“That’s my fault,” Jake piped up immediately.  “I was forcing her to come out to eat with us.  I was making sure she had at least something to eat since she kept saying no.  Tys and Spezz followed to make sure, too.”

Brendan’s look became much more neutral at Jake’s words.  “Hmm…I get it.  Healthy meals and all.  But she can order room service if she doesn’t want to go out.  She’s been up for the past two days almost.”

Jake smiled.  “Her words exactly.  We were literally just on our way out.”

“Have fun boys,” he said, dismissing them.  “And I’ll see you tomorrow, Aberdeen.”

She nodded.  Everybody filed out of her room, each one of the giving her one last look before leaving.  William was last, of course, letting his look linger for longer than the rest before letting the door close behind him.  She let out a deep breath.

love how that was the closest we’ve ever been to getting caught and i wasn’t even in ur room

The text came from William not even two minutes after he left.  Leave it to him to make light of it, she thought.  But it was the following text that got her thinking.

can u tell how the boys wouldn’t say a word now?

[kyber-crystal]

Baby Fever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.4k

Summary: Sometimes, all you need to work up your courage is a little push. And Steve receives just that. When the two of you go to babysit Morgan, he gets a little sneak peek into what a future with you could be like - and he doesn`’t want to let that thought go.

Warnings: this sucks lol, but it’s just a bunch of fluff

A/N: so a lot of my oneshots are about getting INTO relationships instead of being in one prior, but I just couldn’t resist this trope ugh. I CANT RESIST DAD! STEVE UGHHH. also i decided to start making moodboards, inspired by @marvelsswansong teehee. dedicating this to @rynhaswritersblock​ , who recently joined tumblr! I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU 

...

“Are you guys sure about this?” Pepper looked back and forth between you and Steve as she packed up the last of her things, rolling the suitcases to the front door. "She's a lot to handle...and I know you guys already have a lot on your plate and all.."

"I'm sure," you gave her a reassuring smile, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We're going to have fun, right, Morgan?"

"Yeah!" the little Stark giggled, raising her arms in the air, "We're gonna have so much fun together!"

"We'll be back by tomorrow night," Tony informed you, leaning down to kiss Morgan's forehead, "Bye, sweetheart. Make sure to behave for them, okay?"

"Okay!"

"I can't thank you guys enough," Pepper stated. "It's been forever since we were last able to get a break like this."

"You deserve it," you nodded, "now go! Shoo! Don't worry and just relax! That's the whole point of you going on this trip."

"Alright, alright," she chuckled, "see you soon, then!"

As soon as the door closed behind them, Morgan immediately jumped up into your arms. "Let's go play!"

"What do you want to do?" you asked.

"A tea party!"

"Well..." Steve looked down at his watch, "it's getting close to lunchtime, so how about we have something to eat first, and then we'll play, okay?"

"Yay!"

While you kept Morgan busy, Steve got set to making a simple lunch of grilled cheese for you all to eat. When he brought the plates to the living room, he saw saw you sitting in between Morgan's legs as she was plopped down on the couch, pulling your hair up into a high bun.

"Now, what's this?" Steve raised an eyebrow as he set down the food on the coffee table, ruffling Morgan's hair. "Did you bother her?"

"She didn't," you laughed lightly, "don't worry."

"Do you like it?" Morgan giggled. "I think she looks super pretty!"

"I approve," Steve nodded, giving the little girl a thumbs-up.

"So, Morgan," you cleared your throat, "Who's your favorite Avenger?"

"Daddy is!"

"Besides your dad."

"You!"

“And why is that?”

“Because you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and control the weather! And that’s really really cool!”

“I think you just hurt Steve’s feelings,” you reminded her.

“He’s my second favorite!”

“Really, kiddo?” Steve raised a brow, “after all I’ve done for you? Who took you out to ice cream after your dance recital? Who let you have dessert before dinner when your dad was too busy working? Who let you go sledding with their shield?”

“But Y/N is the cool auntie!”

"See that, Cap? She likes me more than you," you smirked, nudging Steve in the shoulder. "I'm her favorite."

Steve scoffed. “I’m right behind you. I’m her second favorite.”

"I'm better than you are, though."

After you were all done eating, Morgan grabbed Steve’s hand, then motioned for you to all follow her upstairs to her room. Within five minutes you were all dressed up with feathery boas, colorful scarves, bejeweled sunglasses, and bright pink birthday hats.

"You look ridiculous," you snorted as you adjusted Steve’s fuchsia feather boa and sunglasses. "I could just take a picture of you right now and store it for future blackmail use."

"Don't you dare," he warned.

Too late. You already had your phone out and he blinked in surprise as the flash went off. You giggled as you saw the surprise evident in his face.

"Ooh! Let's take a group selfie!" Morgan jumped up and down. Steve let out a sigh but as soon as he saw the eager look in her eyes he couldn't resist. You crowded together as you quickly took the group picture, making funny faces because she insisted on doing so.

Pepper was right in saying Morgan was a lot to handle. If being an Avenger was the most difficult thing to do, this had to be the second hardest job to take. By the time dinner rolled around, you were tired out of your mind from running around the backyard throwing a Frisbee back and forth, commentating on Barbie movies together, cartwheeling through the halls, climbing trees, and her undoing and redoing your hair.

"Why don't you take a break. I'll get dinner ready," Steve offered. "You need to rest."

"But St-" you began.

"It's fine," he waved you both off, "you deserve it."

"Thank you," you yawned, stretching your arms up in the air. As soon as you flopped down onto the couch, you drifted off.

“Auntie Y/N? Where are...oh!” Morgan hopped over and peered over the sofa, seeing that you were fast asleep. She picked up the blanket that had been strewn aside from earlier, and carefully pulled it over your body, before patting your forehead and skipping off to the kitchen to find Steve.

“Uncle Steve!” She tugged on the super-soldier’s pant leg, and he looked down from where he was chopping up cilantro at the counter. The heavenly smell of Italian spice blends began filling the air. “What are you making?”

“Garlic tomato basil chicken,” he responded with a soft smile as he set his knife down and washed his hands, crouching down to her eye level. “It’s almost ready. Is Y/N still asleep?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why don’t you wake her up for me, while I go set the table. Sounds good?”

“Yup!”

"Y/N, WAKE UP!" she began jumping up and down wildly. "Wake up wake up wake up wake up!"

You groaned and stirred awake, rubbing your eyes as you stood up. "Who woke me u- oh, hey!"

"Were you tired?"

"Yes, Morgan, very," you gave her a tired smile, "so I took a nap. Are you not tired?"

"Nope!"

“Alright,” you exhaled, picking her up. “Let’s go eat!” She instantly rested her head against your shoulder.

Steve watched you pick Morgan up and spin her around as she let out a squeal - and felt a rush of pride wash over him in seeing you being so playful with the little girl. You'd make an excellent parent to his future child, he thought to himself. All you needed now was a ring around your finger. 

He felt his heart race at the thought - since when did he start feeling this way about you?

"Dinner's ready!"

"Uncle Steve, are you one of those chef guys on TV?" Morgan's eyes widened in awe as she slid into her seat, looking down at her plate. "This looks super cool! How did you do this?"

"No, I'm not," Steve laughed, "This just takes a lot of practice."

For the majority of dinner, Morgan retold little memories along the lines of 'Remember when that one time you came over for Daddy’s birthday and then Uncle Steve came too and I went sledding with his shield? That was so fun!" 

The five year-old was definitely talkative, but nobody minded at all. She was too adorable that it didn't matter how chatty she was - even you, the tough, seemingly coldhearted Agent Y/N had warmed up to her.

After a long, jam-packed day, Morgan was completely knocked out, splayed out across the couch clutching her favorite stuffed duck. You quietly crept towards her and picked her up, carrying her upstairs to her room and gently laying her down in bed.

You lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as her brown hair fell around her face like a little halo, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. A small smile found its way onto your face as you stood there.

Suddenly you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"Hey," Steve exhaled, resting his chin on top of your head. You could feel his warm breath against your neck as he spoke. "What're you standing here for?"

"Hmmm...just watching, making sure she's alright..." you hummed, placing your hands over his as he gently rocked you both from side to side. "Uh...what time is it?"

"10:30."

"Wow. Who knew she could tire you out so quickly," you let out a yawn. "I normally don't go to bed until 1 or 2, or at all for that matter."

"You should get ready for bed, too," he suggested, leaning down to kiss your temple. "Come on. You’re sharing the guest room with me, if you don’t mind."

"Sounds good," you yawned again as he released you from his hold, closing the door before turning around and following him down the hall.

You were too worn out to change or wash up, crawling underneath the covers and pulling them up to your chin. Steve slid into bed besides you, and within minutes you were both fast asleep.

"Yeah!" Morgan squealed, jumping up and down on the mattress. "Auntie Y/N! Uncle Steve! Stop cuddling and get up because it's time to eat!"

The two of you slowly stirred awake, then when you realized the compromising position you were in you quickly pulled apart, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes and ducked your heads slightly to hide the blush on your faces.

"Are you guys dating?"

"No, we're not!" you and Steve replied in unison. 

"Uh huh."

Much to Morgan's delight, you ended up eating Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes for breakfast. Afterwards you took to playing Frisbee and several other games outside for a couple hours before heading back in and bingeing several episodes of Sofia the First while eating macaroni. 

Though sometimes when you glanced over at Morgan laughing and enjoying herself throughout the day, you felt a pang in your chest. You'd missed out on so many years with your parents - your early graduation from Penn State, being promoted to commander of SHIELD’s strike team at just 21, becoming an Avenger - only being able to experience a fraction of your life with them before their lives were unfairly cut short.

"Are you okay?" Steve glanced at you worriedly, placing a hand on top of yours.

"Yeah...I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Come on...what's up? Just tell me," he pleaded. "I don't like seeing you sad. It makes me sad, too."

You bit your lower lip, squeezing your eyes shut. "I miss Mom and Dad...seeing Morgan reminded me so much of what I was like as a kid...the memories came flooding back. It’s been so long since then, but..."

"I know. I miss my Ma and Dad, too," he sighed. "I know it hurts, but...don't worry. Time heals all wounds. You’ll be alright."

You lifted your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, smiling slightly at him. "You know, I think that's the wisest thing I've heard you say. Not Captain America hasn’t said a lot of wise things, though."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm happy to help...you know I'm always here for you, right?"

"Mhm. I love you."

"I love you too."

When Tony and Pepper arrived the next day, they saw all of you sprawled out across the living room, cuddled up together amidst fluffy blankets and pillows. You were clinging to Steve like a koala, while Morgan was using his arm as a pillow as she hugged her stuffed duck close to her chest.

"They must've been exhausted," Pepper chuckled, resting a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"They're completely knocked out."

Morgan was the first to wake up. "Daddy!" she giggled, rushing forward and jumping into Tony's arms. "You're back!"

"Hi there," he ruffled her hair, "how did you like spending time with them?"

"It was awesome! They were the best!"

Tony's expression immediately softened as he glanced over at the still-dozing you and Steve. "I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. Now. Let's wake them all up so they can head back to the compound."

"Hey, Cap? It's time to head home," Pepper gently shook Steve awake. He stirred slightly before sitting up, blinking several times in confusion before he saw her in front of him. "Hey."

"Oh, hi, Pepper..."

"It looks like Y/N isn't about to wake up anytime soon, though..." her brows furrowed together in concern. "She must've done a lot, huh."

"Yeah...she did..."

You stirred awake, sitting up and yawning loudly. “Oh. Tony, Pep...hey! Did I...”

“You knocked out completely,” Steve laughed. “I’ll drive. I know you’re tired.”

"Thanks,” you yawned again, placing a hand over your mouth. “I owe you.”

“No worries.”

He nodded, carefully scooping you up into his arms as Bucky woke up.

"Alright...let's get going. And Tony...it was great seeing you again."

"Likewise, Rogers. We still up for Barbados next month?"

"Definitely."

After a last round of goodbyes, you were on your way back to the Avengers HQs, leaning your head against the cool glass of the window as Steve drove.

"So,” he exhaled, adjusting his grip on the wheel, “you did good over there, putting up with her. She was a lot to deal with.”

“But we had fun, didn’t we?” you turned your head to the side, giving him a soft smile. “I now have a dozen new perfect blackmail photos of you to bring back with me.”

Steve just laughed and shook his head, “I have some of you too, you know.”

“Are you serious.”

"It’s nothing bad, you just fell asleep and I took a picture. You looked cute, if anything.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh.”

“You’re really good with kids, Y/N.”

“...Thanks. You are, too...Morgan loves you.”

“I’d think you’d be an amazing mother to my child someday.” The words came out so swiftly, so smoothly that he didn’t realize what he’d said until he saw your reaction.

You froze in shock. “What did you...what did you just say?”

“When can we have kids?”

“Did I just...hear you correctly...”

“But if you’re not ready to start a relationship, then I understand...I’m in it if you are. When I saw you playing with Morgan...it was like getting a little glimpse to what life with you would be like in the future, of starting a family together...and I don’t want to let go of that idea.  I can't imagine doing that with anyone else other than you."

"What's with the...sudden...confession?" you spluttered, cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.

“I love you,” he said softly, gazing at you out of the corner of his eye, “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know it seems early for me to be saying something like this but I couldn’t be more confident in my answer. And if you’re willing to let me in, then...I’d be more than happy to become that ideal man you’ve always wanted to have.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”

[just-fandomthings]

For the kiss writing prompt 💕 frostiron + 29. "...as a promise"

Read on AO3 (Post Avengers, 2012)

...as a promise. 

“During my invasion, why did you offer me a drink? You were trying to stall, I’m aware, but why was that the method you chose?”

Stark startles, dropping the gauntlet he’s working on. “What the hell, warn a guy before you appear like that, would you? I’ve got a heart condition.”

“Apologies,” Loki says honestly. “I would have thought you were expecting me; JARVIS told me you agreed I could come down.”

“Yeah, I said you could, but I wasn’t expecting you to be here thirty seconds later. Doesn't matter, I heard you say ‘drink’, are you here to finally collect on my offer?”

“Sir, Loki asked permission to join you ten minutes ago,” JARVIS inputs.

Stark blinks. “Oh. Guess I lost track of time. So, what was your question?”

Loki clears his throat. “I was wondering why you offered me a drink in your tower when you first came to threaten me.”

Stark gives him a strange look. “Well, I needed the bracelets behind the bar so I’d have a suit in case we fought- or, in your case, if you decided to throw me out a window.”

The words are said lightly but Loki still grimaces. “That doesn’t explain why you offered me the drink,” he points out after a moment.

“Why not? I needed to get my bracelets and was planning to pour myself a drink to keep you distracted, so I offered you one too. I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for here.”

“I was not your guest, you owed me nothing. I was your enemy who had just killed your friend- you should have left your armor on when you came inside, instead of selecting a new armor to don.”

“The other one was damaged,” Stark says. “Needed the upgrade- besides, do I have to remind you that was my tower you were using as home base? JARVIS had my back the entire time.”

“Indeed I did,” JARVIS agrees.

“Is this you trying to tell me I’m reckless?” Stark squints at him. “Trying to tell me not to take on an enemy in battle when I’m out of armor or something? Because I gotta tell you, out of everyone on this team except maybe Bruce, I was expecting you to understand that I am more than just-“

“No, that’s not it,” Loki interrupts quickly. “Well, I would rather you not die since you are the least annoying person on this team I’ve been forced on, but I know that you are more than well-equipped to handle any difficult situation with no more than the clothes you are wearing.”

“Thank you, I don’t know why people always assume I’m helpless outside of my armor. And right answer, by the way, I was gonna stick Dum-E on you with the fire extinguisher if you were trying to pull a Cap on me. So, what’s with the third degree, what’re you trying to figure out?”

“I suppose, I am trying to ask why you were polite to me,” Loki mutters. “You did cleverly insult my manhood not a mere minute later, but you saw me in your building, in your home, and your response was to offer me a drink. You certainly weren’t expecting me to accept and talk with you, so why offer it?”

“Uh, common courtesy? Because I wanted to?” Stark frowns at him. “Either of those, both of them really, have your pick. I really don’t see what the big deal is, you know. It‘s not like I had time to stop and think everything through beforehand, so I just did it. And either way, I was going to get a drink as a stalling tactic so I could get to my armor, so why not offer you one too? You haven’t even taken me up on it in the three months you’ve been here, by the way, what's up with that? I thought you would have, to be honest.”

Loki is quiet for a moment. “May I do so later this evening?”

“Seriously?” At Stark’s incredulous inflection, Loki bristles, about to take it back, insult him, and storm out, but Stark surprises him by agreeing, “About time you took me up on my offer! I’m game, but I need to finish this upgrade first. Is my penthouse at eight-thirty alright, maybe later?”

“It’s not as if I will be busy with nefarious plans at that hour,” Loki huffs. “Yes, that is fine.”

Stark grins. “It’s a date then.”

The first two minutes of their conversation is stilted and awkward, with neither of them apparently knowing what to say. It lasts until Stark glances at him, drains the rest of his glass of scotch and goes, “Oh what the hell, I’m going for it. Please don’t smite me for this, okay, because I know you’ve gotten defensive every time someone has asked, but I really want to know about your Seiðr. How you learned it- I’m assuming you were taught- what the scope of your abilities is, and mainly, how it works. From one genius to another, can you please give me some answers?”

Loki blinks, retort dying on his lips. “You truly wish to know?”

“Uh, why would I not? It's probably the most powerful and complex thing I’ve ever come across- which hurts to admit- and I know nothing about it, which sucks, by the way. I hate not knowing things, especially things that interest me.”

“And my Seiðr interests you?”

“Yeah, thought I’d made that pretty obvious by now. I mean, Cap told me off for practically drooling during that battle last week when you eviscerated those doombots. I would have paid good money to see Doom’s face when he saw you literally rip his bots apart with just a wave of your hand.”

“That is but a simple trick,” Loki murmurs. “You are truly fascinated by my Seiðr, aren’t you?”

Stark’s gaze is expressive and searching for a moment before he nods. “It’s probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, and I don’t say that lightly.”

Loki exhales slowly. He thinks Stark might just be genuine. “What do you want to know first?”

It takes only an hour of discussion for them to rearrange the furniture of the penthouse against the wall to give them an open floor space so Loki can show off his Seiðr. Stark keeps up with his conversations remarkably well for a mortal, far surpassing Loki’s expectations, and he finds himself relaxing, indulging in discussion of the more technical aspects of his Seiðr.

When they finally call it a night, hours into the morning, Loki is surprised when he finds himself wishing to stay longer and discuss his Seiðr further with Stark. So few have ever been kind in consideration of his Seiðr, even less have expressed an interest in it, and for Stark to have done both...

Loki doesn’t have words to describe it.

(Later, Loki will consider that evening as the dawn of their friendship.)

It is invigorating to engage in a battle of wits and intellect with Stark, Loki soon comes to find. Such was what had initially impressed him about Stark when he had been under the control of The Other, but with his presence in his mind gone, Loki finds himself naturally drawn to the inventor now. Their conversations are thrilling, and Loki finds himself leaping at the chance to flex his intellect with Stark.

They spend the following months spending an increasing amount of time together, even more so following the cease of Stark’s relationship with Pepper Potts. (Stark isolates for two weeks after that, before he emerges with an impressive performance of being fine.) They discuss in length his Seiðr, Stark’s technology, and other pieces of their lives that they both find interesting.

Stark’s technology, in particular, holds Loki’s attention, for while the designs that Stark has managed to come up with are far superior to anything else on Midgard, a select few are also unlike anything he has come across in his travels of the Realms. It’s an impressive feat, and Loki tells him so.

Loki is also especially fond of Stark’s creations, finding himself impressed by how his bots seem to have such curiosity and personality. (Dum-E and U both, he quickly realizes, are fiercely loyal of Stark.)

As their conversations of his Seiðr continue, it grows impossible to go without mentioning Frigga. Loki isn’t sure what he expects Stark’s reaction to be when he first mentions her, but Stark’s gentle smile and, “She sounds incredible, she must be proud of how talented you are,” far surpasses anything he had expected. The sentiment touches him, and something in their dynamic changes that night.

(Perhaps, it is because that is the night Stark changes to Tony.)

Despite this, they still do not engage in conversation easily about personal topics, both of them with too many difficult stories to wish to recall such information. Still, however, there are many nights where their respective nightmares leave them stripped of their shields, with only vulnerability left behind. It is on those nights that their bond is solidified; empathy and understanding found through sharing stories of past tortures and betrayals.

During one of those nights, Tony tells him of a man called Stane, sharing with him how Dum-E first, and then Pepper, had saved his life. His voice is broken, no more than a whisper, and his hand remains firmly on the device in his chest the entire time he speaks; a further testament to the pain of that betrayal.

Loki vows to him in that moment that he will never betray Tony, he swears it, for he would rather stab his own heart than cause his (only) friend pain in any way.

Tony just looks over at him, his expression sad and resigned all of a sudden. “I don’t think that’s a promise you want to make,” he says quietly. “Not when I’ll likely give you a reason to break it.”

“You know me; I say no less than what I mean,” Loki tells him. “And I can think of no reason that would ever make me want to hurt you or betray you.” He has betrayed others throughout his life, for reasons so little as for fun (stabbing Thor), but he knows he could never harm Tony.

Tony just shrugs. He doesn’t seem to believe him, but he provides no further argument. The blanket covering their laps as they sit together on the sofa suddenly feels stifling, but Loki resolutely ignores it. He understands that Tony’s skepticism is not personal, it is just a mere consequence of being betrayed time and time again by the people he cared about most. Loki knows he would hesitate to accept such a promise as well, even from Tony. Life has taught them both that it’s not safe to trust.

(Perhaps together, they can learn to trust again.)

The other members of the team remain wary of him, distrustful to the point that Loki is certain he will never be able to earn an ounce of trust with them. Outside of Tony, Thor seems to be the most accepting of the fact he is serving a ten year sentence for his attack on New York as a member of their team. Knowing he has Tony‘s friendship makes it easy, however, to disregard the fact that the others do not trust him, even on the field of battle. Never mind that his Seiðr has been limited to keep him in check, they clearly do not trust him to fight on their side. Loki pays this no mind; their belief in him or lack thereof is of no importance to him.

When he finally meets Pepper Potts, Col. James Rhodes, and a man named Happy Hogan, they all threaten him past the point of any return should he hurt Tony in any way. He believes them. The CEO of Tony’s company, his ex, however is the one whose threat genuinely gives him pause. He knows better than to anger her.

But for all their initial threats, the three of them all seem to accept him as Tony’s friend, therefore, as a part of their lives as well. It is awkward at times to be around Potts or Hogan, or even Rhodes when he is able to return home, but those moments of awkwardness, he finds, are worthwhile if it means he can remain at Tony’s side.

It’s a thought that should scare him, that he wants to be wherever Tony is, but he finds himself oddly at peace with that fact. They have grown close over the last five, almost six months since they first shared a drink in Tony’s penthouse, and Tony is incredible, a force of light wherever he goes; it is impossible not to be drawn to Tony, he thinks.

It’s a brisk day in mid-March when he and Tony crowd together on the sofa in his penthouse with a video feed in front of them to watch the fallout of their latest prank on Barton. Tony bursts out laughing at Barton’s indignation and leans against Loki as he praises their prank, saying they absolutely have to prank Cap next. Loki is overcome with joy realizing just how lucky and happy he is to have a friend who partakes and enjoys mischief just as much as he does.

That is also the moment Loki realizes he’s falling in love.

Tony has gone quiet as his side, eyes still sparkling with joy even as he asks, “You okay, Lokes?"

“I’m fine,” Loki reassures. “Just thinking of what to include in our next prank against Captain America himself.”

“I love the way you think,” Tony laughs, snuggling into his side the way he seems to do so frequently, now that Loki thinks about it. “Well, hit me with it. What’re you thinking?”

It’s easy enough to conjure a list of possible pranks at a moment’s notice, and from that moment onward, Loki’s feelings fall to the back of his mind, always quietly lingering in his every thought. Given enough time, he knows they will become a force he cannot hope to control, but that is a problem he can deal with in the future; the present includes planning a prank, and that comes first.

(Later, Loki will consider the moment he realized he was developing feelings for Tony as the day everything changed.)

“Can I join you?”

Loki startles minutely, so caught up in his reading, so relaxed, that he had not been paying attention to his surroundings in any capacity. But this is Tony who has come to his bedroom, and Loki knows he need not keep his guard up when the inventor is around. "Are you alright?" Loki asks, lowering his book to his lap.

"Fine," Tony says automatically. He looks uncertain. "I know you're reading and it's late, so if you want me to leave, don’t hesitate to say so.”

“Nonsense, I always enjoy your company,” Loki reassures absently, frowning at Tony’s haggard experience. He gestures to the space next to him on the bed, adding unnecessarily, “Please, sit.”

Tony hesitates for a moment and then sits down on the bed next to him, leaning back. His hands twist unnaturally together; a sign of his anxiety.

Loki marks his page and sets his book on the nightstand. “Do you wish to talk about what has you so tense?”

“Not really,” Tony mutters. “Not like there’s much to say anyway though. I fell asleep working on an upgraded set of arrows for Clint and woke up screaming. J said you were awake still, so I came up.” He pauses and then adds, "You've been reading all this time? Usually you call it a night at midnight."

"I got enthralled in an old journal on Seiðr and lost track of time. When I realized it was past two, I figured I would wait until I came to a natural stopping point before I retired for the night,” Loki admits ruefully. "I'll be tired in the morning, but it will be well worth it."

"I think I'm rubbing off on you," Tony says lightly. "Staying up until all hours of the night to finish something is my shtick, not yours."

"You have a point. You did, after all, initially encourage my pranks, then you took to assisting me with them, and now you have me staying up to all hours of the night," Loki points out, teasing, participating in the lighthearted atmosphere Tony seems to be trying to create. A distraction for his nightmare, perhaps, and Loki is happy to help. "You are a rather bad influence on me."

"Guilty as charged," Tony agrees, snorting. "Though I'm pretty sure everything prank-related is a result of you being a bad influence on me."

"A mere pleasant consequence of our friendship. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you first let me share a drink with you in your penthouse."

"I did knowingly sign up for all the mischief and chaos, you're right." Tony shrugs, looking pleased. "But as Rhodey will be more than happy to tell you, I caused plenty of trouble throughout my life, so you sadly don't get the privilege of claiming responsibility for all of my evil ways."

"I plan to ask about those stories, just so you know."

Tony laughs, looking lighter now than he had when he had first appeared in Loki's doorway. "Pretty sure you'll have to clear your schedule for the weekend when you do- but keep in mind, Rhodey did also participate in a lot of my plans. He was my partner in crime. So don't let his exasperated tone fool you, he's just as much a prankster as we are."

"In that case, we will have to include him in our plans to prank Thor whenever both your colonel and Thor are present in the Tower," Loki muses.

"Deal," Tony responds instantly. He goes quiet just a moment later, his expression darkening a little.

Loki frowns at the sudden shift in mood. "What's wrong?"

"I should probably go, let you finish the chapter you were reading so you can go to bed."

“I am more than happy to have you here," Loki says carefully, sensing that there is something else weighing on his mind. "But if you wish to go, that is your choice to make.”

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Then prepare for bed and lay with me,” Loki says without thinking. He pauses, realizing what he just said. Norns, he had not meant to offer that, but the offer has been extended and he is not one to take back his words. Still though, he clarifies quickly, “It’s an innocent offer, no more than the simple opportunity for you to not be alone tonight, if you don't want to be.”

Tony looks startled. “You want me to stay?”

“You are welcome to, if you want.”

“Why?”

“You are my friend,” Loki says simply. “We have fallen asleep watching movies together on the sofa before and that is fine, is it not?” At Tony’s nod he continues, “So too would your decision to stay here for the night. Nightmares are painful, and if I can offer some small comfort or reassurance of safety, I would happily do so.”

“You’re sure?”

“I mean every word I’ve shared,” Loki says gently.

Tony sighs and leans against him, his head on Loki’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he says softly. “For letting me stay and for not judging me.”

“You know how common my own night terrors are,” Loki points out. "I have nothing to judge."

Tony shrugs but doesn’t offer a response.

“Go, get ready for bed,” Loki says, nudging him with his elbow. “I have placed an additional toothbrush and nightwear for you in the bathroom.”

Tony nods silently and gets up, disappearing into the bathroom. Loki uses the privacy to lay down, trying to quell his racing thoughts and pounding heart. There is something charged and vulnerable between them; it feels like he is balancing precariously on a fraying line. What may happen if it snaps, he’s unsure.

When Tony exits the bathroom a few minutes later, he pauses at the side of the bed for a moment before he pulls back the covers. He doesn’t lay down, however, just says quietly, “You don’t seem as bothered anymore to be serving part of your sentence on the Avengers.”

“Is that a question?” Loki asks, never one to make things easy when he can help it.

“An observation, I think. Am I wrong?”

“No, you are not wrong,” Loki says. He takes a shuddering breath and admits, “I hated this team in the beginning. I was no more than a collection of broken pieces being held together by pure spite, and being placed on this team felt like a death sentence. I expected to hate every moment of my time here, for an abundance of reasons.” He swallows hard, suddenly certain he should not keep going, not when he has already stripped himself bare.

“But?”

As always with Tony, he is the exception to the expectations and restrictions Loki sets for himself. He finds himself staring up at the ceiling and admitting, “But I made a friend, someone who cares about me genuinely for all that I am. It took the work of months before I realized that all the reasons I expected to hate being on this team were insignificant in comparison to the friendship I had found. These last several months, I have found myself slowly recovering from the damage The Other inflicted on me- I am trying to at least- I am trying not to be the monster I was destined to be, and I somehow even find myself happy on occasion, something I thought I was only capable of when creating chaos.”

His bedroom is quiet for a moment. “Sounds like your friend is pretty special,” Tony quips.

“Special is not the most accurate term; short, on the other hand, or perhaps, talkative, or even-”

“You're an ass,” Tony interrupts him, laughing. His expression is pensive, however, as he lays down on his side and looks over at him. “Is that all we are though, just friends?”

Loki freezes. It takes a moment for him to remember to breathe, and then he exhales slowly, rolling over on his side to face Tony as well. “I’m not sure,” he admits, “Are we just friends, in your mind?”

“I asked you first,” Tony points out, smirking a little.

“I gave you a response, however vague, and then asked your thoughts. It’s your turn.”

“Uh huh, you want my thoughts on what exactly? You haven’t really specified what we’re discussing.”

Loki refrains from rolling his eyes despite the way his heart is threatening to pound out of his chest. “What are your thoughts on us,” he emphasizes. “That is what I wish to know.”

Tony’s eyes search him for a moment, perhaps trying to assess if this is part of a joke or if he is being genuine. “I think that you’re a royal pain in the ass a lot of the time, as well as dramatic and passionate, but I like that about you. You’re also mischievous and clever; you're a genius that speaks the same language as me. I also think you have feelings for me, just like I do for you. And I want to see if there can be an us...but maybe after I kiss you?”

“Is that a promise?”

“The romantic speech or the kissing part?”

“The part where you mentioned wanting to see if there can be an us, do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it." Tony pouts at him.

It suddenly is so easy now to see what has been in front of him for months: their close proximity to each other, the way they are drawn to each other's side, their flirting; it has all been leading to this.

Loki leans over and kisses him. Tony gives a quiet sound of surprise and then relaxes, easing into the kiss with an approach that somehow already feels familiar.

“We need to do this more often,” Tony murmurs when they pull back. He's grinning.

Loki laughs, happy. “That is a promise I can easily keep,” he vows, and kisses him again to prove his point.

End.

[shinymooncolor]

For my fellow Sweater Weather fans ❤️ @lumosinlove - thank you!

Kudos to @frombeauxbatons for helping me with Finnish.

@wxlfstxrx and @siriuslyqueer love youuu 💕

Sweater weather chats #10

The team goes to Vegas. Kris gets a new phone. Olli speaks Finnish. Remus and Sirius are in their honeymoon phase. The team dads ship it. Kasey gets cuddles. Logan gets lost. Leo is mad. Everyone bets on Sergei. Dumo is not a fan of Russian cheering during sex. Will we ever find out about Prague?

Wednesday 9.22 pm

Eliascookie: eyyy fucking love wifi in the air. 🤪

Dumodad: shhh someone is trying to nap and you guys are loud 🥴

Logantremblayzzz: sorry grandpa. Not all of us are old and cranky.

Sergei_81: careful I fight people for you

CarbO’Hara: and we love you dearly for that. But no denying you and dumo are old and cranky. You could literally both be Leo’s dads

Ollibear: he looks more like sunny and sergei’s baby than dumo’s

Blizzard: ohhh a love triangle 🙊😳

Sunnysideup: as much as I love sergei, I wouldn’t get between him and dumo. They’re the bromance of our gen :) also not my type

Kaneyoudigit: yeah. Where does that butt slap come from anyways? Even when one of them is out or injured they find time for that 👻

Bradygunz: I don’t think anyone understands it... where does it come from? Something about Prague - Allison was super cagey about it.

Dumodad: shhhh let us sleep. Night boys. Got another few hours and practice tomorrow is not optional. Sleep.

Nadotheman: VEGAS BABY

Krisvolley: practice and a game Nado.

RussianGod: DONT be boring krissy

——

Friday 12.33 pm

Remus created a group chat

Remus added Dumo, Sirius, Sergei, Sunny and Krissy

Remus named group chat HELP

Remus: okay boys. Sorry for this but I’m a little worried. We’re in Vegas and with a whole day of no games and only practice tomorrow once we touch down in LA, I can’t keep an eye on the entire team.

Dumo: haha dont worry go have a nice date with cap. God knows he’s cranky enough that you were away for that course for three days.

Sunny: don’t worry I sleep with ear plugs anyways 😜

Remus: hey we have separate rooms!

Krissy: wE hAvE sEpErAtE rOoMs....... it’s ok remmy 😉 cap plays better after you do whatever it is you do.

Sirius: alright stop. I wasn’t cranky. And leave Remus alone. You’re supposed to be the mature ones. Also Krissy?

Krissy: yes. I got a new iPhone and made the mistake of asking timmers and Olli to help me set it up on the plane. Now I can’t get it to change back. They set it to Finnish. Have no fucking clue and haven’t managed to get hold of Olli yet. 😳😳😳😳

Sergei: cap and re go enjoy honeymoon we take care of babies

Sunny: 😜😜😜😜😜 enjoy it while it lasts. Before you know it’s chores, babies and using alone time to catch up on sleep

Dumo: yeah. Don’t take your blissful kid free life for granted. 😈

Krissy: didn’t Logan and the other two walk in on your guys doing it in the kitchen last month?

Dumo: so?

Sergei: haha just kitchen? I’ve caught them worse. Is ok. You understand when you have babies. 😆

Krissy: I have a baby. I’m just single 😫😫😫

Sunny: want us to find a girl for you?🤓

Krissy: no thank you. Leave my sex life alone.

Sergei: u even have one?

Krissy left the group chat

Dumo added krissy to the group chat

Dumo: Sergei is sorry......... also he walked in on us maybe 5 times calm down. There’s nothing like Russian cheering to kill a mood....

Sunny: 5? That can’t be right. You were bunnies when she was pregnant last. I saw things I cannot unsee 🤯🤯🤯

Sirius left the group chat

Remus: you broke Sirius. Anyways I’ll leave the babysitting to you guys then.

Sunny: HAVE FUN REMUS 🥳🥳

——

Friday 2.54 pm

Logantremblayzzz: guys I’m lost. I’ve been walking towards that big pointy thing and the map from the hotel is crap and I got away from finn and he’s not picking up

*picture of map*

Blizzard: Logan.

Blizzard: THATS A MAP OF PITTSBURGH. WE’RE IN VEGAS. ALSO ITS UPSIDE DOWN.

Blizzard: how the fuck have you lived to see 23? 😆

Logantremblayzzz: oh. That makes more sense. 🙈🙈🙈

Newt-leo: what do you mean you lost Finn? Are you both lost somewhere in Vegas? Just use your phone and get back to the hotel...

Blizzard: Finn left his phone here in the room😂😂😂 better send out a search party

Logantremblayzzz: well I don’t know what happened. I can’t find him now. 😭

LeWilliam: There’s literally one strip of road in Vegas and you’ve gotten lost. 🐸

Dumodad: I swear to the fucking hockey gods we were never this stupid. Idiots. Get back here for 5, and we can go have a team dinner for those who want. Sergei is buying

Evanderbell: ohh @tylerthemighty and I are in!! Thanks @sergei_81!!!

Sunnysideup: he’s sleeping? Hahahah he’s gonna be unhappyyyy 😂

RussianGod: hehe thanks we’re play too...

Nadotheman: he means game. But yeah. Free dinner 😎

Prongstar: I think this one @logantremblayzzz has to go into the promo videos hahahahah 😂😂😂 I’m telling Marlene.... 😘

Ollibear: is anyone looking for Finn?

Newt-leo: yeah me and @krisvolley are going out now

——-

Friday 3.44 pm

CarbO’Hara: THANKS FOR DITCHING ME LOGAN

Logantremblayzzz: I was lost too! Not my fault you wander about

CarbO’Hara: I was talking to a puppy and when I got back up you were gone 😔 didn’t have my phone. Had to ask two Cher’s and an Elvis how to get back. 😫

Newt-leo: you’re back at the hotel now?

CarbO’Hara: yes. Forgot my phone.

Newt-leo: WELL THATS FUCKING GREAT. 😡

Walkietalkie: uhhh someone is in the dog house 😂😂😂

Nadotheman: bad fish... no goalie love for youuu

Blizzard: I can cuddle ya Finn. No worries. 😘😫😘

Logantremblayzzz: you’re not cuddling Finn. Go cuddle Nado if you need to.

RussianGod: come on blizzard. We do goalie sandwich 🥪🥪🥪🥪

Blizzard: gimme five minutes boysss 😍

Krisvolley: we’re heading back now. You’re paying for our cab Finn. Leo is really mad 😉

Friday 3.52 pm

Timmyforrealz: awww 😍

*nado and Kuny cuddling blizzard in a goalie sandwich*

Ollibear: there’s a lot of bromance in my room right now. 😂

Walkietalkie: at least they’re fully clothed. 🤞🏻

——

Friday 6.33 pm

Sergei_81: IM NOT PAYING FOR YOU All

Dumodad: yes you are. It’s your turn. 😘

Sunnysideup: u know it. It’s the deal. Shouldn’t bet if you can’t pay up.

Sergei_81: is thanks I get for fighting for you all.

Sirius: you keep bringing that up. But you love fighting for us. We love you for it 😜

Dumodad: haha cap’s got a point my friend. And you’re a glorious fighter. Haha your punches are feared through the league. Even the linesmen try to avoid getting between you and your victim

Nadotheman: you know there’s a bet in the league? First rookie to take you down gets a Rolex from a draw? Everyone chips in at draft? 😜

RussianGod: is true hehehe I put money in on never so I want watch

KrisVolley: was that an option? 😳 how did I not think of this

RussianGod: I’m smart just not in English. English stupid. Russian best 🥳

—-

Friday 9.33 pm

Ollibear: Mä oon niin ilonen mut mulla on ikävä kotiin. Mulla on ikävä muumeja.

Ollibear: Ja mun äitiä.

Ollibear: Tykkään myös tosi paljon pannukakuista.

Prongstar: Olli.exe stopped working…….

Sunnysideup: eh anyone’s got an eye on Olli? He’s defaulted to Finnish… 🙊🙊🙊

Dumodad: @timmyforrealzzz @nadotheman @russiangod

Dumodad: WHAT DID YOU IDIOTS DO NOW

KrisVolley: hahahaha Olli just had some shots. The waitress was making googly eyes at him and I guess he couldn’t say no 😆

Timmyforrealz: I think we should get him back to the hotel 😁😁😁

Nadotheman: not it!!!!

RussianGod: I got him. He dont walk

——-

“Kuny, he can’t even walk”

“I’m got him. He very drunk. Hehe not hold liquor well for Finn. Is embarrassing” Kuny snorted and hoisted his teammate more firmly over his shoulder.

“He owes me $100 for bribing the driver to take us”

“Sä oot hyvä venäläinen. Et ilkee venäläinen. Tunnen pahoja ja ilkeitä venäläisiä.”

“Any idea what he’s saying?”

“Not sure is even Finnish. Sound like just words”

[izzyizumi]

Digimon Adventure x Digimon Adventure tri ~ featuring CHARACTER: Koushiro[u] Izumi [Koushiro “Izzy” Izumi in US dub] (+relationship with Mimi Tachikawa) [+Taichi Yagami] + IMPORTANT DIALOGUES (in Adventures & connecting to tri.) + CHARACTER/STORY PROGRESSION

also known as: KOUSHIRO vs. COMMUNICATION {further a.k.a: Communication Is Hard.}

{the following related quotes and information relates more specifically to Tri!Koushiro. There will be minimal spoilers for both his & Mimi’s roles in tri, without majorly spoiling the ending / plot surrounding Meiko.}

“I WISH THAT KOUSHIRO would act more spoiled and unreasonable instead of always keeping it inside”

“like a 'GOOD BOY’”

“I want him to tell me what he LIKES”

“and” “HATES”

“That’s what being A KID is all about!”

“...Don’t you think so?”

- Mrs Izumi, Adventure Episode 31 (Japanese version)

{... Or maybe it would have been better if you

NEVER SAID ANYTHING AT ALL.}

- {Koushiro, internally, @ himself, Often, Probably} [?]:

Original Posters’ {Mine} Commentary:

{Some Food For Thought TM, Maybe}

(a refresher, of relevant Koushiro backstory potentials from the novels written by Adventure director Kakudou!) {I tend to refer to these passages a Lot when discussing or analyzing Koushiros concepts for Reasons}: [with translations thanks to Onkei; as tumblr refuses to show posts with links in the tags nowadays, please check in comments if you want the links to novels, thank you!]

- from the opening chapters; when lost on File Island

- from the part covering Adventure episode 28; a.k.a. “the Gate”:

“Before now, before he had come to the Digital World, Koushiro had considered himself

an insignificant and WORTHLESS human being.”

{Note: it should be important to be kept in mind that Koushiro within this point of the pre-series story [Novels, above] is 10~ years old and he’s been feeling those things SINCE HE WAS A TINY CHILD [Ages 5~10].}

{“THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING [INTO/OBSESSED WITH] COMPUTERS!”} [Note: in novels, it’s translated as “obsessed with”.]

BONUS:

{from later in the same sequence of Adventure #31, above}:

{from later on in Tri; Kyousei ending}:

THE BIGGEST BONUS:

tri. head Director Motonaga: As tri. is connected to 02, the entire theme of this work is depicting what the first generation of Chosen Children would be thinking about as they become adults.

Because the question of what kind of adults they’ll become has already been answered, we’re working on the problem of getting to that answer, in a sort of reverse problem-solving.

(on Koushiro) As Koushiro begins to try changing his clothes in Part 1, he wants to become someone who can do something by himself.

- Otomedia, February 2016 (Digimon Adventure tri. interview) [with translation credit thanks to website DigiLab Blog!]

“what they were learning in Tri.”: (KOUSHIRO):

“ After understanding about himself, GAINS ABILITY TO UNDERSTAND OTHERS. Learns to easily/OPENLY ACCEPT OTHERS’ LOVE TOWARDS HIM .”

- from a post-Tri livestream interview given by Kazumasa Habu (who, along with Kenji Watanabe and Mr. Maekawa, are members) of the Digimon Staff that works with the LCD Virtual Pets [with translation via Onkei]

{pictured: Habu holds up the planning sheet for Tri.}

MIMI - ‘selfishness’{-like quality, aka ‘Jikochu’ in Ketsui} disappears, learns to be courteous towards others

[&] Learns not to expect others to be sweet on her "just because she's a girl." {<- this includes Koushiro Izumi!} learns that when it's necessary, she'll have to get dirty herself and give in to things.

start of {Kokuhaku} / {Confession} [Movie #3]:

(earlier on, as well), {Ketsui}:

{Kyousei} / {Coexistence}; Movie #5: {when she becomes stuck in a familiar-to-the-viewers setting with Tentomon}:

[hey, wouldn’t you know, she’s very clearly not upset with Koushiro anymore?]

{Kizuna}:

[the last we have of Original!Koushiro so far, from the credits; he’s now the head of his own company, having learnt how to UNDERSTAND others while openly ACCEPTING LOVE towards HIMSELF, from the people who CARE about him, {and even simply learning how to communicate in TEAMS}]

(people who CARE ABOUT HM): {ALSO KNOWN AS: HIS FRIENDS} & {HIS FAMILY}

“KNOWING NOTHING is just a chance to learn new things, RIGHT?”

“PLEASE KEEP LEARNING NEW THINGS,

... AND ENJOYING IT.”

{Note: this post is part of a series discussing Koushiro using canonical references and quotations from the original Japanese version [and not the U.S. dub] to attempt to explain his progressing storyline; you can view more of my headcanons thoughts and analysis at my Neurodivergent Koushiro analysis series!}

caps/gifs by @izzyizumi,

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{Additional note: this post is mainly intended SPECIFIC CHARACTER/POSITIVITY FOCUSED. please remember + RESPECT this when interacting {Failure to acknowledge interacting rules WILL result in a block}

[Note: commenting/tagging positively/respectfully is ok!] (Please AGREE TO BANNERS BEFORE interacting) (Note: click on the banners to enlarge!)

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[thebluenoteblog]

Give me That Title

Summary: You have been hooking up with Colton for months and though you have feeling for him you’ve known since the beginning what your relationship with him is. You’re okay with it. You’re also okay with being perpetually single. That is until you meet someone that makes you want to date for the first time in a while. Though Colton’s reaction to hearing about your date... well that’s more surprising than the fact that you decided to go on a date in the first place.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 5.1k

*Inspired by Meghan Trainor’s Title*

I know girls ain’t hard to find

If you think you want to try

Than consider this an invitation

To kiss my ass goodbye

You were on the floor in front of your floor length mirror, with makeup spread out on the floor all around you when your phone buzzed. You paused with the mascara wand next to your eye, finished what you were doing, reinserted the wand into the tube, screwed on the cap and then picked up your phone already having a pretty good idea of who it was.

Colton had just gotten back in town from his road trip earlier that day and odds were he wasn’t in the mood to go out partying tonight. He wanted someone to come to him. The most recent notification on your phone, right above a few from the NHL app was indeed a text message from Colton. You had been his most regular hook up for the past seven months and at some point, in that time he had given you his phone number when he got tired of dealing with snapchat.

If you were being fair, the two of you did a lot of talking to. If someone were to scroll through your text messages they would never know that you were just some twenty-one-year-old girl who had gotten caught up in a lifestyle that you had no business in. They would probably think that you and Colton were friends. Friends who just hung out a lot late at night.

You unlocked your phone, opened the text and scanned the message. You busy?

You glanced up into the mirror, at your half-done makeup. Yes.

His response was fast, like he’d been waiting for it. No, really. Do you want to come over?

Okay, if you were being fair, it was a very rare occasion that you passed him up on an offer to come over. You always responded to his messages and you were basically at his beck and call. Your only serious obligation was your college courses. Your work hours were pretty much ‘come and go as you please’ and so you did. Whenever Colton asked. He knew when you were in class and he knew it wasn’t now.

Being tied to a man who had no intention of ever committing to you wasn’t a huge issue for you. Committing your time to him wasn’t either because he was gone so much and spent so many nights out with the team that you could still have friends and a life of your own. Besides, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t hooked up with a few other people in the beginning just as he had. You assumed he still did, but you didn’t bother anymore, the sex didn’t compare.

Then two weeks ago, you met Chase. You were sitting at a coffee shop on Main Street, enjoying your tea when he had walked in. He’d sat down on the couch beside you as he drank his coffee. He turned to you, stared at your Blues t-shit for a moment and then said, “Can you believe how badly the Blues got it handed to them last night?”

You’d spent two hours talking after that, about anything and everything. He’d asked you out. You’d given him your number. Now you sat in front of your mirror getting ready for the first real date you’d been on in over a year since you had broken off your engagement and sitting there, on that couch next to Chase, in his faded St. Charles County Firefighter t-shirt, you’d realized something.

This thing with Colton wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted a real relationship. Someone you could imagine a future with and not roll your eyes at yourself for being ridiculous. Someone who would really love you and not just love getting you naked. Someone who saw in you whatever it was that Chase saw that made his eyes light up when he talked to you that day.

You wanted someone who would someday ask you to marry them. You would buy a house together. Make one of those salt plaster ornaments with your first house key to put on the tree that you would decorate together every year. Build a fence in the backyard for your dog and your kids to run around.

Maybe that would be Chase, maybe it would be the next guy you went out with, or the next. Maybe you would find him a year from now. But you knew one thing for sure. No matter how much you wanted him to be, no matter how much you loved Colt, he was never going to be that guy.

He would never commit to a girl who looked like you.

Hell, you didn’t think he was ready to commit at all, despite how nice of a guy he was and his picture-perfect image. He enjoyed living it up, he enjoyed his parties, he enjoyed his bunnies. A girlfriend would cramp his style.

You glanced down at your phone and saw that ten minutes had passed, you needed to hurry up and get your makeup done and you still had Colton to deal with. I can’t. I’m going out tonight.

Again, he responded before you could pick up your mascara to finish your other eye, so he must not have been doing anything. He was probably laying on the couch watching TV. Oh. Are you going out with (Y/F/N)?

You didn’t really think about what you were typing before you just hit send, you just did it and then dropped your phone before going back to your makeup. This time you finished all of your eye makeup and were on to your lips when your phone eventually buzzed.

It wasn’t until you picked it up that you read what you had sent him and actually felt a little bad. You knew you both saw other people. You knew you weren’t a couple and you were both free to do whatever you wanted, but neither of you ever made a point of talking about it. You only knew about it his exploits from the girls who bragged about it online and occasionally posted pictures of them together to corroborate their stories. No, (Y/F/N) is out of town. I have a date tonight.

He’d responded five minutes later with. You have a date?

You glanced at the message, not sure how to respond at first then decided on simply, Yeah, he’s really nice.

The dots appeared and then disappeared about five times before they stayed long enough for him to type out his response. You never go on dates.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to a guy in the NHL to think he had a girl locked down because she didn’t go on other dates for a little while even though he was still fucking other people. I decided that I want something real. Is that so bad?

You finished your makeup and made it out to your car before he responded. I guess not.

If it ain’t no thing

Then I won’t be hangin around

But don’t be blowin up my shit at three am

Sayin how you need me now

You had now been out on two dates with Chase and Colton had coincidently texted asking you to come over as you were walking out the door to get into Chase’s truck the night you went out with him for the second time. He’d taken your rejection slightly less… diplomatically this time which was uncharacteristic for him. You’d only turned him down a handful of times, but you could never remember him being upset. He’d always continued to talk to you until one of you got too busy to hold up the conversation. This time though, he was clearly upset.

Can you come over? I have food that I shouldn’t be eating that you would love.

You smiled when you read the message, because it almost sounded like he was inviting you over for a date even though you knew that wasn’t what it was. You could still dream. Then you remembered that outside your apartment complex, Chase was waiting for you.

I’m sorry, I’d love to but I’m busy tonight. Raincheck?

He’d responded quickly like he didn’t even think about what he was saying before he said it, Big date tonight?

You narrowed your eyes at the phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

You waited for his response before you walked outside into the bitter February air. Nothing. I just wanted you to come over.

Now it was three in the morning and you were lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Still thinking about how uncharacteristically spiteful Colton had been that night. Then your phone went off for the first time. You ignored it, because, well, it was three in the morning. But then ten minutes later it went off again. And five minutes after that it went off again. Not five minutes passed before there was another. Then soon after another alert. Finally, you sat up in a huff, grabbing the phone off your bedside table and unlocking it to see the notifications.

All messages from Colton and he appeared to be drunk. Very drunk.

(Y/N) r u home

i miss u

u should com over

r u still with him

u should be here instead

You squeezed your eyes shut then opened them to make sure you were reading the messages correctly. Is that why he had been so spiteful that night? Was Colt… jealous? You couldn’t go over to his house now, because regardless of what you suspected, nothing had changed. He wasn’t going to commit to you. He wasn’t going to give you that house together or the Christmas tree with the first key ornaments or the kids running around in the backyard. It just wasn’t in the cards for them. Besides, he was drunk off his ass right now. He would never, in a million years send u or r in place or you or are if he wasn’t well past the legal limit.

Colton, go to sleep. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.

The dots appeared right away but it took him awhile to type the message.

i no wht im saying i miss u com over ur with him arnt u

It took you a moment to decipher the message but when you did, you sighed and responded carefully. Colt, I’ve been home since 10:00. I can’t come over, its already three in the morning and you’re so drunk you’ll be passed out by the time I get there. You won’t even be able to let me in.

He didn’t like that answer. ill take a shower to sober up before u get here

Colton.

fine goodnight

You sighed again, Goodnight Colt.

Don’t call me boo

Like your some kind of ghost

If you don’t want me seeing other guys,

Then here’s what you need to know

Come stay tonight.

It was just those three words. The team was leaving for a road trip and they had the next day off. You had always in the past cleared your schedule on those days for him if he asked you to. The two of you would stay in bed all day, you would cook for him when you got hungry and he would leave for the roadie the next day relaxed and happy. This had started off as an occasional arrangement but had become a routine and now almost every time he had a day off in town, this was the plan.

You cleared your schedule.

When you got to his house with your overnight bag, you had just knocked on the door when it opened. He was standing there looking perfect as ever in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, but his hair wasn’t styled like usual. It was tousled and limp like he’d been running his fingers through it enough to destroy whatever effect the gel had previously had on it.

He stepped to the side to let you in and closed the door behind you as soon as you were out of the way. He turned to face you, “I’m sorry… about the other night.”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes, continuing to face the living room. You didn’t want to talk about this. You knew your time together was limited. This may very well be the last time they spent a night together before you had a boyfriend and you had to end… whatever this was. you didn’t want to spend it talking about what he’d said two nights ago and how he hadn’t meant it. How he was just drunk. “It isn’t a big deal.”

You slipped off your shoes, leaving them by the door. You always felt weird wearing shoes in his house, everything was so much more expensive than what you were used to. You walked away from him before he could say anything else, placing your bag on the couch and then leaning against the back of it and turning to watch him. He was frozen in place, staring at the spot you had previously been standing. After a minute he shifted his eyes to you and made his way into the living area.

He stood directly in front of you, with his hands in his pockets. He looked unsure for the first time since you’d met him, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. “I made dinner.” He said. “It’s almost ready.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You made us dinner?” You asked. “I always make dinner.”

“I know…” He said, he shifted, looking over her head at something in the distance, “I just thought… I don’t know. It was an early game and I got home at seven… I don’t mind cooking, so why not?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, I guess I just figured I would be cooking for you tonight.”

He looked down at you, meeting your eyes and smiling softly, “You don’t always have to do stuff like that. You can just come over and relax with me.”

Something was off. Colton was a nice guy. He was an amazing guy. But this was so far out of left field for your relationship that you didn’t know what you were dealing with. Then again, that’s how everything with him had been since the day you told him you were going on a date. He’d make sure to mark you up with hickeys everywhere when you hooked up the couple of times it had happened since. He was usually rough, but he never was one to leave dozens of hickeys all over you. Maybe one or two, nothing like that. His sideways remarks. Drunk texts. Now this?

You were in love with him. You had been for a long time and you knew it. Hell, you’d known when you let this start that you would fall in love with him. He was just the kind of guy you couldn’t help falling in love with. That’s why he had girls falling at his feet. He was a twenty-six-year-old professional hockey player, rich, attractive, with a great personality and he could have any girl he wanted. You never had any illusions that you would be the one to lock him down. Hell, at the time you weren’t even looking for a relationship. You were running from one.

But when he looked at you and said things like that, things like you can just come here to relax with me, it made you angry. Because you were in love with him. And when he said things like that and sent you a string of drunk texts at three in the morning, it gave you this irrational hope that he cared about more than just your pussy.

There was no way though.

And even if he did, did you want that life?

Constantly worrying about whether or not your boyfriend was with some other girl because he could have whoever he wanted? Always feeling like you weren’t good enough for him? Never being able to contribute equally to the household? Would he ever actually marry you even if he did date you? No. Probably not. You weren’t NHL wife material. Not pretty enough or classy enough.

But you smiled at him and pretended this battle wasn’t going on in your head and said, “Why don’t I help you finish cooking? I’m starving.”

After you ate, an amazing meal as it turned out Colton was actually quite the cook, when you made to help him with the dishes he turned around and set you on the island behind him, effectively banishing you from the soap. “I always help.” You protested.

“I’ve got it, (Y/N).” He said, his back muscles working as he washed a pot. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, “As if that’s possible.” He turned to look at you over his shoulder, narrowed eyes and you bit your lip before responding, “Sorry, did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah. Don’t say it in your head either.” Then he went back to the dishes.

After the dishes were clean you expected to end up in the bedroom, but instead he guided you to the couch and handed you the remote, “What do you want to watch?”

You stared at the remote for a moment, then looked back at him. “I don’t know. I only watch movies in the theaters and I don’t think you’d like any of the shows that I watch.”

He frowned, “You only watch movies in theaters?”

“I don’t have the attention span to watch them unless I’m forced.” You said, “I’ll do anything to get out of it. Write, sleep, read, sex. Anything except watch the movie unless it’s a favorite and I’m in the mood to watch it. Which I’m not.”

“Okay, you like the Flames, right?” He asked. You nodded, “They’re playing now. Want to watch that?”

You smiled up at him, “That sounds awesome.”

By the time the game ended, you were curled into his side with his arm wrapped around you and you were ranting about every missed call while going on about Tkachuk’s game winning overtime goal. “Are you like this when you watch us play?” Colton asked, with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify and a smile on his face.

“Oh, I’m worse.” You said laughing and shaking your head, “When I lived with my sister she used to get so mad at me on nights you played late games because I would wake her up yelling at the TV.”

Colton placed a hand on your cheek and moved in. He pressed his lips to yours the same why he had so many times before, but this time if felt different. The kiss was long and slow and there were no hands pulling at clothes. One of his remained spanning your cheek and neck and the other rested on your waist, holding you in place.  Your hands, after the initial shock of the randomness of the kiss wore off, went up to his shoulders. He pulled you closer like he was afraid you were about to push him away, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You didn’t know if you knew how.

Especially not after the way this kiss made you feel.

You were the one to separate your lips, resting your foreheads together. Neither of you spoke for a stretch of time and the only sound filling the room was the Flames postgame in the background. Eventually he broke the silence. “I don’t like you dating other people.”

“Colton…” You said, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want him to tell you how he didn’t like seeing you with other people, but you could never be his. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear and if he said it… well if he said it you were going to have to get up and leave. You were going to have to end this.

“Please listen to me,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper but their faces were so close that you had no trouble picking up his words. “It hurts thinking about you dating someone else. It hurts thinking that I’m so close to losing you and if you don’t want me to stop you then there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

You pulled your forehead away from his and leaned back a little, looking at his hardwood floors, “Colton I can’t just be some girl that you call when you want to screw for the rest of my life.” You said it softly, but the words were harsh and he cast his eyes at the floor along with you, “I want something real. I want someone who is going to take me out on dates. We buy each other birthday presents. Set up a Christmas tree together every year. Have dreams of a future with each other in it. Someday I want a house with a backyard full of kids and a husband playing with them. I can’t have that if all I am is another girl who you mess around with but never want anything more from.”

When you were done he looked up at you and your eyes met. Before you could look away, he said, “But what if I want all of those things with you? What if I want something real too?”

Tears sprung to your eyes. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he just let you walk away when it was easier because you thought he would never love you. “Colt I don’t know if I’m cut out for that life. I’m just some girl who got caught up in a lifestyle she had no business being part of.”

“What’s so bad about it?” He asked, looking a little panicked. Like he hadn’t actually accepted the possibility of you walking away tonight for good. “Why couldn’t you date me?”

You shook your head, “I’ve been around your friends. They party. They drink. And athletes… they cheat. I know it’s a stereotype, but I would always be worried about it. Especially since the entire time we’ve known each other you’ve had the ability to just… do whatever you want. Besides the fact that I’m not pretty enough to ever be seen in public with you.”

Colton looked genuinely offended, “I don’t cheat. I never have, and I never will. I was raised better than that.” He placed a hand on your chin and forced you to look into his eyes, “And you are beautiful. I would take you everywhere. You would be all over my Instagram even.”

You blushed, “Colt…”

“(Y/N), give me a chance.” He said. “I messed up. I didn’t realize I was in love with you until someone else was already doing a better job at what should have been my job than I was. Please, let me fix it.”

You studied his face, trying to decide if he was serious. Trying to decide if you should give up what you saw in Chase for what you knew was there in Colton. There were obstacles, many of them, but if he was that determined to make it work then you would give it a try too.

“Okay, we can give it a real shot.”

I’m lovin’ what you got

But I’m hating what you doing

You gotta show me off, off

If you embarrassed,

Then thats the case I’m long gone

You’d been officially dating for four months now and things were going great. He knew how you felt about him going out drinking with the guys, so when he went, he invited you along. There were no more bunnies bragging about their conquest with him online, in fact they were beginning to suspect that he had settled down with someone. You were at every home game wearing his jersey with the other wives and girlfriend and even flown out to one of the away games. Pictures of the two of you together started appearing online, especially on websites that people used to track the habits of players and the speculation started.

Did Colton Parayko have a girlfriend?

The thing was, he wouldn’t confirm anything. People would tweet him, asking him about it. Nothing. People would message him on Instagram asking him about it? He ignored them. He posted a picture of himself with your dog on his Instagram and the comments were filled with the same question.

Do you have a girlfriend?

Is that your girlfriends’ dog?

Did your girlfriend take that picture?

Still he didn’t respond to any of them. You were beginning to wonder if it was because he was regretting his decision to enter a relationship with you. Was that what the issue was? Was he embarrassed of you? He’d promised that you would be all over his Instagram, but he hadn’t even let you tag them in a picture together. Did he wish he’d found someone more conventionally beautiful?

You were scrolling through a speculation post when he sat down beside you on the couch. “What are you reading?” He asked, looking over your shoulder.

You quickly locked your phone and dropped it into your lap, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, “I know your password and my arms are longer than yours.”

You sighed, “Why haven’t you gone public with our relationship?” You asked.

He looked caught off guard, “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t posted any pictures of us. You haven’t answered when anyone asks about us.” You looked away from him and down at the phone you were twisting in your hands. “If you’re embarrassed of me just tell me. We can end this.”

“No!” He said it before the words had even died on your tongue, “Of course I’m not embarrassed of you.”

You still didn’t meet his eyes, because honestly, you didn’t believe him. “Colton…”

“(Y/N),” He said, “I’ll post pictures of you right now. I’ll tweet out a response to the next person who asks me. I’m not embarrassed, why would I be? I didn’t know it was that big of a deal to you or I never would have kept it a secret. I just don’t like my private life to be all over the internet.” He grabbed your hand and pulled your phone away, setting it aside before taking your hand in his. “Please believe me.”

You looked up into his eyes and all you saw was love. He looked so genuine. How could you not believe him? “Okay,” you said. “I believe you.”

“We don’t have to keep it a secret,” He said, “I love you. I don’t care if people know.”

You smiled up at him, “I would like that.”

Give me that title, title

Come on give me that title, title

Better give me that title, title

Better give me that title, title, yeah

They’d been together for two years now and they had come a long way from the day that Colton had sworn she was going to walk out his front door and end up in the arms of another man. As she sat on her towel with her toes dug into the sand next to him, glass of wine in her hand, staring at the sun setting over the ocean, he couldn’t believe that he’d ever come close to letting that happen.

The words she spoke that day stuck in his mind every single day since she said them. Someday I want a house with a backyard full of kids and a husband playing with them. They already bought each other birthday presents and set up a Christmas tree together every year. They talked about their future together every day. But that was something that he hadn’t given her yet.

She was so distracted by the sunset that she didn’t notice him set his wine glass on the small table between them, low to the sand, before reaching into the beach bag, into the zippered back pocket that she never would have had a reason to open and pulling out the small velvet box. He settled back onto his towel with the box in his hand, but kept his eyes focused on her.

He’d had the whole moment planned out, but now that they were here, and he was holding the ring and she was sitting next to him, it was like he had never planned a thing.

He shifted to his knees so that he was facing her, and that action was enough to pull her away from the sunset. She turned to him with a smile on her face so genuine that it made his heart swell. “What’s that look for?” She asked, “You should be watching the sky, it’s beautiful.”

“I’d rather watch you.” He said, and her cheeks flushed. Whether it was from the tropical heat or his words he didn’t know. He kept the box hidden under his hand as he said, “(Y/N), the day we decided to be together, you said something. You said that someday you wanted a husband and kids and an entire life with someone.” He looked down at his hand which still hid the ring, then back up at the most important person in his life who was looking at him with wide eyes, like she wanted to believe what was happening but didn’t quite want to get her hopes up. He lifted the hand that wasn’t concealing the ring and used it to guide her into standing up. She rose to her feet, burying them in the sand.

He rose to one knee and finally reveled the box, snapping it open, “I want that to be me. I want that life with you. I’m ready for it. If you say yes, I promise that we’ll have a house with a huge backyard and a fence and a swing set for our kids to play on. We’ll be the family that you always wanted to have. So, (Y/N), will you marry me?”

She was completely in shock, staring at him like she couldn’t believe a single word he had just said had actually come out of his mouth. But it had, and as soon as she realized that, she answered him. “Of course, I will!”

He slid the ring on her finger, tossed the box on the towel beside them and then was up and twirling her in the air in a second. Yes, they had come a long way in the past two years. And god was he glad they had.

[nostalgic-pancakes]

Watching the starlings as autumn draws in

Summary: Tommy and his friends try on some skirts, and he reflects a bit on how they all got here. (It's a happy story) Title from September by Sparky Deathcap

Pairings: None! Platonic everyone (esp in irl fics_)

Read on AO3 (preferred place to read)

Word count: 2570

Warnings: None, except for surface-level references to the exile/prison arcs, but not much.

Other notes: I wrote this in a fit of madness last night in like three hours at 2 am, so i’ll probably edit it honestly but for now, enjoy! (If the CC’s ever display discomfort with this type of fic I will take it down)

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"WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM, BOYS!" Tommy exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he starts rapid-fire answering questions about the stream, and the stream title from chat. It's funny, how over time, Tommy's come to see Chat as this one entity- an old friend. The nervousness of answering questions as a fifteen year old with nothing but a big personality, a twitch account and a copy of Minecraft is all but gone now, nineteen years old and happier than he's ever been.

Dreadfulzombie19: what are u doin this stream

"THANK YOU FOR ASKING, Dreadfulzombie19, today is gonna be a bit different, innit Tubbo?" Tommy raises his voice a bit at the end of his sentence, just loud enough for one of his flatmates to hear him. When Tubbo yells back an affirmative, Tommy turns back to his setup. Chat's gone a bit wild again, even though he, Tubbo and Ranboo have been living together for over a year now.

"Okay, okay, calm down chat- so recently I was at university, as usual right? And I had an eight AM class again, and… yeah I can see you all can relate."

"BUT! BUT! On my way back to the flat, I saw something really cool." Tommy hesitates in his speech to take a sip of coke again- his blood pressure's been acting up lately and watches Chat to wild again, asking him what he saw.

"Okay, so there was a shop- new place, which doesn't happen often this is fucking Brighton- and they sold skirts and dresses and stuff with adjustments for AMAB sizes!" Chat goes a bit bonkers, but Tommy's mod team- a little smaller than it used to be, now that he isn't the centre of YouTube or Twitch attention anymore, none of them are- are handling it, and pretty well.

"So I had to go, right? As many of you probably know, last year, I made the astounding discovery that gender-based stereotypes and expectations are, in fact, fake and I should not give a SHIT. And so I go in and look through the stuff- it's a really poggers shop by the way, and I find the perfect thing- it was the most poggers skirts and shit, okay? So, today's stream is going to have me wearing this pogchamp shit and wearing it right, with the help of…" Tommy ends his monologue by picking up the joke shaker-things that Phil had gotten him as a housewarming gift last year and indicates for his first two helpers to enter the office.

In walks his mother, face obscured from view as always, waving to the camera, and Wilbur, also wearing one of his only skirts for this occasion. Eret had taught him, on a phonecall in the skirt shop that week about the different types of skirts with a handy diagram. Wilbur's was a pleated circle skirt, brown to offset the bright yellow of his sweater and beanie, the same colour as his hair. It's very swoosh-y, so he's wearing black leggings with his regular shoes too. Motherinnit's also wearing her favourite skirt, a baby blue prairie skirt, Tommy thinks, and it's one he's seen fairly often.

Wilbur ducks down in order to show his face to Chat, and ruffles Tommy's hair while he's at it. Tommy's taller, but not by much, so Wilbur still fucking makes short jokes, That fucker.

Chat is now going so fast that he simply cannot read anything but some of the all caps messages and can barely make out some of the emotes.

"Okay, OKAY, CALM DOWN CHAT! WE HAVE TO GET TO FUCKING BUSINESS!" Tommy yells into the mix, like he did when he was sixteen and used the 'many people find me annoying at first' intro. Nowadays he just lets the content speak for itself. Anyone who wants to be here already is, by now.

Wilbur laughs a bit, and that hasn't changed at all. "Tommy, how is chat supposed to calm down if you're not calm?"

"I am their god!! They will obey via sheer digital willpower!" Tommy replies back, pretty zealously (What? An English Literature class is mandatory for his film degree, and The Great Gatsby by Zelda Fitzgerald is a good book, as are most of the other assigned ones. He's had entire conversations with Techno with just lit quotes and it drives everyone insane. Tommy loves it.) Chat seemingly has listened to his godlike abilities, with a few OG's spotting his half-quotation of one of Dream's last lines in the Dream SMP. The rest are spamming 'MOTHERINNIT'.

"If having a shitty magic trick book from a washed-up politician makes you a god, then what does that make me?" Wilbur replies, with one of Foolish's lines and swatting his hand at Tommy. Tommy swats back.

"Bitch" "Arsehole" "Shithead" "Fuckface" Wilbur finishes cheerily, as if this happens all the time. It does. Chat's used their antics now, four years of consistently making content together will do that for you.

Eventually Motherinnit reminds them both to get back on Topic, and Tommy goes back to facing the camera, addressing Chat directly.

"Today, my beloved mother, and my idiot brother-" "hey!" "And maybe my flatmates will be joining me to show off some cool as SHIT skirts! And a dress or two. We all have our selections, right?" Everyone nods in affirmative, even Tubbo and Ranboo. Though the camera can't see them. Ranboo's just come home from his final class, then. He should probably take the first hour back off, and judging by how Tubbo is forcefully judging Ranboo to the shower, he probably gets it. Tommy signs an affirmative to both of them, and gets back to the camera, where Wilbur's showing off all of his (very poggers) very stupid brown or yellow skirts. Tommy's are in cool colours, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah, Puffy just confirmed she'll be on stream! She'll be here in about twenty minutes, accounting for fucking traffic, and Niki' going to get onto VC after her own stream, what game is it this time?"

"GRIS." Wilbur answers.

"Poggers- she is the SHIT and will join us soon! So expect some QUALITY QUALITY content this stream!! Remember to not spam her chat to finish faster." Exclaims Tommy, even if it ends up as a light warning, as he picks up his own very poggers skirts from the extra armchair in his office to show the camera.

One is the classic red and white, mostly white but with bright red on the waist (elastic) and the bottom, and it reached to about Tommy's knee, if worn at the hip. It had no pleats, but the red bits were a very nice velvet texture, and while the skirt was heavy, it still had very much swoosh value, and pockets!! Big ones!! He slips the skirt on top of his jeans before entering camera view, the skirt visible in all its classic Tommyinnit glory, as he takes his place right next to Wilbur, who just took. a quick spin at the behest of several dono's., Skirt spying out from his lower shins all the way to his knee, making visible one of his (many) petticoats. ("What? It's cold all the fucking time here, Toms.") Tommy also makes a quick little spin, skirt flying outward, not upward, so it looks like he's hula hooping for a moment there. Lastly, Motherinnit spins around too, and while her skirts do not swoosh, she looks opulent, like she was about to go to waltz with the enemy, for whom she has a dagger in the back of her dress for. (He finished Anna Karenina and the Six of Crows duology within the same week and has not yet recovered. Jack Edwards is laughing at him as he thinks in his English Lit Graduate glory.)

It's fun, trying on different skirts- he and Wilbur accidentally bought the same dress at one point, which they paired up to wear, darting off into their respective changing rooms while giggling like idiots with their checkered blouses and the grindl skirts that Niki had sent over when she heard of this stream idea, laughing the whole time. Tubbo enters as dramatically as possible with Puffy, and while Tubbo looks really fucking good in his handkerchief skirt with embroidered bees and plain white shirt, it's Puffy who steals the show with an exact, real life version of her red banquet dress.

Fans from way back in the SMP, before Tommy had started branching out start going insane and are bringing back emotes Tommy wasn't sure were still available, but she is fucking stunning- deep shades of red and crimson, with slits on either side of her waist and all the detailing. She'd gotten the contact for her dressmaker through Bernadette Banner, Tommy recalls- she was so fucking cool when she streamed with him once, and gotten him to swear less and supplant those world's with bigger ones to intimidate instead. While he still curses like a sailor as part of his persona, it's less so and he does way less in real life these days, unless the situation calls for it. It's also just rude, especially in uni libraries, where he spends too much time these days wondering why he didn't read more as a kid.

Puffy's stolen his audience for a WHILE, and Niki coming on hasn't helped any, so Tommy exits camera view for a while to hug Ranboo really quickly- he's had midterms and has basically been dying all month.

Everyone on this stream- Tommy, Wilbur, Motherinnit, Tubbo, Puffy, Niki and Ranboo enter the camera frame after entering their dressing rooms for the last time on this particular stream, Puffy with full in-character wigs and makeup, Tommy in an Edwardian-Gothic reminiscent black and red dress, Ranboo in something he bought when he gap-yeared in Japan, punk lolita or something, Niki flaunting her pink in a Marie Antoinette style show of finery, Tubbo dressing in all green this time, something like a very deranged biology teacher who hasn't slept in days (Tubbo hasn't-Tommy has to get into that), Wilbur like a forest-nymph, all earthy tones and swishy fabrics and nature highlights, and finally Motherinnit, who hasn't changed but is here to take pictures as they all lean in together to fit into frame, as drastic as their height difference is. Niki is going to be edited in later, and everyone on the 'Dream SMP but nobody does Dream SMP and we're all fucking nerds' discord server is going to get a copy.

The stream wraps up there, after about two hours, and it's only about six in the evening- a far cry from the late nights and long hours from the beginning of Tommy's career, so everyone runs to their changing areas for the last time, into pajamas now, and packs away all of the clothes they wore, properly, as to not incense Karolina Zebrowska, and Jemma, Dan's wife, who would look at them disappointedly and nobody wants a sad Jemma because that means no cooing at their son. Also it just feels shitty.

Everyone huddles in Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo's living room, and they out on UP for like, the millionth fucking time (they still cry when Ellie dies), and Tommy is leaning into Wilbur's side and feeling his mum play with the hair in his very small, stubby ponytail he's developed by being in Uni as he and Tubbo intertwine their legs together and Ranboo rests his head in the tangle of limbs, playing with his fidget cube. Puffy stays on Wilbur's side, intently texting someone and smiling the whole while, and Tommy takes a moment to reflect (something he's been getting better at doing) on how the actual hell they all got here.

The Dream SMP was always going to end- everyone knew it, if course, they were the fucking writers. But by the time they did, not only were their respective brands too closely intertwined to just… sever that quickly, but they'd become too close to even want to. So the SMP discord never shut, even though Dream and George had planned it months ago, and they continued supporting each other with their interests. Wilbur made a lot more music solo, with his band and even just random ass streams where he practiced guitar for an hour. He kept playing Minecraft, but it wasn't his main focus. A bunch of people left. More stayed. YouTube left him alone.

Dream, George and Sapnap are still Minecraft streamers, but their YouTube channels are mostly blogs of them being poor excuses of adults with other former SMP members joining in sometimes. Tommy and the Dream Team were closer than ever, even though the seeds of their friendship had been sowed when they used to linger after heavy streams together, reassuring each other that none of that was true and that nothing like… that would happen in real life, because Dream had used real abuse tactics, and those still hurt unless immediately taken care of. So they were. It was a running joke that Dream was stuck at 99 million subscribers since nobody really wanted the face reveal anymore. The other Dream team members were doing peachy.

Phil and Techno were also still primarily Minecraft streamers, but they also released things like advice videos and mental health stuff, especially for relationships. They had a new scripted series where Tommy was a minor character. The dadza jokes were still as real, and yes, outside of streaming, both of them were lovely people and responsible adults (mostly). They collaborated with DanTDM and co a lot more now.

Puffy and Niki kept doing games, but did lots of different ones, testing point and clickers to triple A titles, and making it all fucking hilarious while they were at it.

So where had that left Tommy?

After the Dream SMP, he'd kind of had no idea what to do, and he was going to University for the first time, so he just… did whatever he thought would be fun. He learned about vintage fashion from the queens themselves- Mina Le, Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska and had fun learning how to sew for the first time, fixing and making his own clothes for the first time, clunky as they were, Wilbur had cried, genuinely, when he saw the Lovejoy shirts that Tommy had made for the band. He'd found a genuine love for literature in university, so Tommy started talking to booktubers and studytubers like Jack Edwards and Noelle Stevenson. Tubbo and Ranboo had joined him, fucking around in any YouTube niche they found even remotely interesting. Eventually, they all found a happy medium- a bit of everything.

Some people obviously weren't happy with that but Tommy was happy as he was, making what he liked with his best friend's, living together close enough to most of their friends (family) to have fun and drop in on one another at ass-o-clock in the morning to comfort, to laugh. His sub count hasn't gone up in a while- most of his audience is static, with about 80-90k online on a stream at any time.p

It was a nice feeling, to have carved out a space for himself and the people he loves, and be is so, so glad that he got this chance.

Looking at his mostly asleep family, Tommy thinks 'yeah. Life is good.' as the last thought before he sleeps.

[sweeethinny]

You’re The Right One - Chapter 1

There are people we would walk through the fire for, people we never imagined we could meet, and for James S. Potter, that person is Mira Hazel. The temperamental madwoman who was in the compartment next to him in Hogwarts' first year, and who has been by his side ever since. In the fifth year, however, Mira begins to gain another angle through James' eyes, however much he doesn't want it. You shouldn't look at your best friend that way, let alone want to kiss her every time they're close. He definitely shouldn't be jealous of her. She is just your friend, best friend, and James should put his head in place and forget about all this crazy stuff to avoid problems ... But he never went after problems, anyway, they always find a way to find him.

AO3

first of all, I would like to thank @theroomofreq​ who is beta of this fic, thank you very much for helping me to put this story in the world <3  this is a story that is almost finished in the original version, so my days of creative block will not hinder her progress

that’s it, thank u if you’re read till here, i hope you like my characters and my vision of the next gen <3

Walking excitedly among all the people, carrying his owl and bags in the cart, and rushing his parents every moment they were less than two steps behind him. James grinned from ear to ear on a lively September morning, the one where he would mark his first school year at Hogwarts.

''Let's go!’’ He pulled his father by the hand, who had stopped to show Lily, the youngest of the family, the huge dog that was walking illustriously beside the owner.

Both Harry and Ginny walked slowly to enjoy what would be the last time they would see their eldest son until Christmas, when they would force him to return to spend the festivities at home. For the father, it was a joy to see that little kid who barely reached his chest, saying what a great Quidditch player he would be and that Gryffindor would be, certainly, his house.

'' What if it happens to be Hufflepuff? Albus asked, a little frightened by his brother's enthusiasm that morning

'' It won't happen '' He rolled his eyes when none of the parents looked at him '' I'm too brave '' And the two laughed among themselves, thinking that the son was a copy, much more genius should be said, of the mother and the uncles Fred and George. And Harry was not ashamed to admit, that he saw himself much more in Albus, frightened by that determination, than by the flames of excitement that prowled James eyes. At least not at that age.

'' Come on, you and me first '' James barely waited for his father to hold the stroller bar, safely crossed the 9 3/4 barrier, reaching the spot where his eyes twinkled, and his whole body shook from nervousness and anxiety. Soon the mother with Albus and Teddy appeared, as always, the calm face of the woman making the boy brake and answer the silent request of '' wait! ''

'' How do you feel? '' Wizards were everywhere now, there were owls hooting, cats purring on their owners' legs, and frogs in the clothes of some, showing only their big eyes.

'' Anxious '' He spoke the truth for the first time, still smiling, but now a little more slowly. '' Do you think I'll be able to fly? '' This time he addressed his mother, speaking quietly so that only she could hear, watching Albus and Lily listening to his father's story about his first day there, while Teddy made some joke about how old he was. Ginny smiled kindly, warming the boy's heart, arranged the hair that fell in his eyes and rubbed his young face

'' Of course James, but if you have difficulties, which I doubt, we can train at Christmas '' He nodded, more hopeful this time. If her mother, a famous Quidditch player, had told him he could do it, then it would become true. Right?

'' Let's go just before the train leaves '' This time it was Harry who stirred, pushing the way while James saw the faces that would soon become known to him. Whether they are friends, colleagues, or enemies. (Even though his father made him swear that he would not start  unnecessary fights)

Smoke spread in the air, a lot of students - young and old - boarded the train and packed their bags in the cabins, then returned to hug their parents, be  scolded, or just talk. Heads floated in the window, students laughing excitedly with the anxiety of finally leaving, and James couldn't help feeling different.

'' I'm going to miss you, brat '' Teddy ruffled his brother's at heart hair '' First year is an important year .. write me if you need anything '' James nodded, slightly nervous as he watched the man change his hair for go dark like his, smiling a little too watery for his opinion

'' Me too. And ok, I will '' James hugged him, and then turned to his parents, almost feeling like he was about to scream in excitement and fear.

'' Be careful '' The father looked at his son, a little laughing and a little serious, raising his eyebrows '' I'm watching you ''

'' Ok '' He nodded excitedly '' And I know you will ''

"Take care, okay?" It was Albus' embrace, two years younger, tight and full of anticipation that made James smile without grace, his cheeks warm with that affection. As annoying as he could be, he would miss having someone smaller than himself to win the blame.

'' Yes, I’ll miss you too '' And then everyone got together for the squeeze, almost breaking his ribs, and making him blush with embarrassment '' No ... I can’t ... breathe ''

The little sister gave his cheek a wet kiss - which James automatically wanted to wipe but did not do when he saw his father's gaze - his mother had passed on some instructions about the houses and how he should be calm regardless of the choice.

'' The house that Hat draws will be the right one for you, and we will be happy regardless of the result. Write to us as soon as you can, preferably today '' He nodded laughing, thinking of the red and gold lion.

'' Now, listen '' The father had crouched down, keeping close eye contact, his green eyes almost bursting into orbit '' I don't want you to be around getting in trouble, understood? '' For the fiftieth time he nodded '' Don't worry if you are alone, people always arrive in the compartment , you can meet great friends inside '' Once again he moved his head

'' Stop being so melodramatic, man. '' Teddy laughed, winking at James, who seemed to have read the mind of the boy who was thinking about the whole castle to explore.

'' I'm going to send you news '' he assured, entering in the train

'' Every day. '' James frowned, eliciting laughter from his parents '' Answer us always, and if you need to ... ''

'' I know, Dad, I know ... Professor Longbottom can help me. '' The train started to leave, they exchanged a few more words, he waved at them as they got smaller, and then that was it.

James was finally on his way to the Witch School.

Anxious, he ran to the  single empty compartment  he found and began to contemplate the path they were taking. It seemed that magic was already taking place there, it was like the sensation of climbing up  a gigantic peak, analyzing the view from the top , the fall that he would soon make. It was scary, but impressively, it also seemed to cause a huge euphoria that would make him jump.

"Can I come in or is it full already?" The female voice woke him from his daydream. He had heard many love stories that began in train compartments , his godfather for example, swore he was one of those who unknowingly knew the love of his life. Grandpa, whose name he honored, met Grandma in one of those too. But if James knew anything, it was the  girl, a few inches shorter than him, with long blond hair braided, wearing a funny black cap and school robes, would not be his love.

She wasn't ugly, but she looked ... clumsy. Her eyes were large pits of the darkest pitch, the pupil barely visible, her  cheeks pink and large, eyebrows as clear as lashes (little more colored than the fair skin), and her  teeth a little apart, in addition to a pink lip fatty. Her legs looked  long compared to her  body, even under her robes, and her arms were thin, as if she had started to stretch-but only on some limbs.

'' Uh ... no. '' But you couldn't deny friends, of course. "You can sit down."

'' So ... '' She packed her bags '' It was full up front '' Justified herself by picking up a 'Quidditch History' book and sitting in front of him '' And I thought .... Hey, I think I know you from somewhere '' James blushed, even though he straightened up and tried to look more secure than he really was. Being recognized was never fun. '' You are Ginny Potter's son, I saw you on the Prophet's cover! My God, your mother is awesome '' She spoke in a way that her eyes almost popped, such excitement, gesturing and bulging her eyes.

'' I know '' James bragged, even if uncomfortable '' She's the best '' He spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His mother had retired as a chaser  after Lily was born, however, he had gone to a few games and could remember it  being amazing. In addition, every time they played in the vegetable garden, the father had to sweat so that they would not lose by more than 100 points - even if someone on his team caught the snitch.

'' I want to be like her , you know .. '' The girl straightened up on the bench, pulling her legs up, leaning her back against the cold window, the book resting on her knees '' I want to play like that. '' James thought she was funny, but he didn't comment, a little scared by how intimidating she looked. '' My parents hate flying, but I like it. I mean, I’ve only  flown a few times, but it's soooo fun. '' He wanted to laugh, staring at her curiously. Her hair resembled Aunt Fleur's hair, long and light, but it was much less styled than the hair of the older woman  '' I really like to imagine myself playing. ''

''To imagine? Have you never played? '' The nameless girl denied, making a face

'' My parents are not the biggest Quidditch fans, so to go to a game, it was like Mass '' "Mass?" He frowned.

The blonde looked at him, this time curious, '' Yes, it's a muggle thing, you know, about religion, some are too long ... so the saying... '' James nodded

"Are you Muggle-born?" She shook her head, fiddling with the worn book unpretentiously, and then shrugged.

'' My parents are wizards, but my grandparents are muggles and I spent  a lot of time with my maternal grandmother, so '' she shrugged '' That's why I never played, I had no one, but I know how to play volleyball and maybe it will help me. And Tennis '' the girl shrugged again '' Anyway, your mom is a big inspiration to me, I wish I could have seen her play. ''

'' So ... you didn't say your name '' And again she moved, sitting forward and holding out her hand to him, which was full of different rings. James wondered if that girl could be weirder than Dominique. Or Aunt Luna.

'' Sorry, I was so excited ... I'm Mira Hazel. '' He smiled kindly

'' James '' Even though he didn't need to, he was happy to say '' What house do you think will be in? '' She straightened up again on the bench, without opening the book this time, looking at him with full attention.

'' I hope Ravenclaw. What about you? '' Mira Hazel said, as James grimaced.

'' Gryffindor, obviously. Why do you want that one? It's so full of ... idiots '' The girl raised her clear eyebrows, her body moving into an attack position as if she might pounce on him, much like a cat. James was concerned that she was carrying a cat beside her, but there was no sign.

'' My parents are from there .. You know. Gryffindor is not the only good house at school, if it were, it wouldn't make sense to have others, would it? '' James swallowed the words, arranging his back on the bench and thinking what he would say Next. Of course, his father had warned about this, but how could he not want to go to the house that housed his whole family?

Before he could give a bullshit answer that would make coal eyes explode, the cabin door was opened again, this time a boy with black hair and frightened eyes appeared, his cheeks flushed and what appeared to be a frog in his front pocket. "Sorry, wrong cabin."

When the door closed again, silence radiated over them, James too affected to admit that maybe, for a few seconds, she was right. Only the pages broke the silence,, as she leafed through the book almost aggressively,.Mira seemed to have read it many times judging by  the yellowish color that marked the edges, in addition to the lower spine looking punished with use. He thought of asking what Quidditch position she wanted - for he had imagined that if they both wanted to be keppers, they would fall off their brooms before the snitch was even released - but he kept the words to himself.

The food cart was not long in arriving, much to his delight, and the two bought what looked like food for five more, still without speaking a word, which was driving him crazy.

"Aha! I finally found you. '' The female voice broke through the air. Mira smiled at the chocolate frog, taking the card in her hands

'' Who did you find? '' James smiled when he saw Merlin smiling on his own card.

'' Hermione Weasley '' And as if it were pure gold, she carefully tucked it inside the Quidditch book.  '' My mother met her ... they made Runes together '' Mira nodded, seeming to talk to herself more than to him '' A very smart witch ... I should want to be like her too, don't you think? ''

'' Are you always this weird? '' He joked, happy that she had talked to him again. Her silence was claustrophobic, which was very strange, since Albus used to give him a cold shoulder whenever they fought, and it was never this bad. 

'' Ah ... no, I’m just nervous. '' It seemed like a lie, but he didn't say anything 

'' But tell me, what is it like? Having these people in your family '' Mira asked. 

James grimaced when he swallowed a Bertie Botts every flavor bean,  '' Ear wax, ew, I don't know how I was wrong. I thought it might be popcorn ''

''Normal '' He moved his shoulders, precisely choosing a bean, loving the taste of strawberry when he threw one in his mouth '' They are normal people most of the time '' 

'' It can't be normal '' She rolled her eyes '' There must be something extraordinary about being the son of Harry and Ginny Potter '' 

James tried to shake the thought from  his mind, remembering all the years living in his family and all the stories that he had heard (even if in half).

Sometimes it was quite difficult, people used to be so intrusive  at partie, s it was almost impossible for them not to be stopped by some journalist wanting to know the latest gossip that involved their name.

James thought it all sucked. It was very tiring.

He had thought that now as he was going to Hogwarts he could finally be James. Simply, James, and no longer,live in the shadow of his parents great deeds. Even if no one asked him to follow in their footsteps, stressing the irrecoverable losses they had made along the arduous path, he felt as if nothing he did was really interesting.

Going to Gryffindor, being a good keeper and a good student, was not just to ensure that his track record was brilliant, but to guarantee a place in the genius tree. He hadn't fought like his mother and father, but he had done something good while he was at school, proving his worth. Proving to be brave and fearless.

'' Except I can get a lot of cards from chocolate frogs more easily '' He smiled at the girl who laughed in denial, her cheeks turning pink again, and her eyes no longer seemed to carry the fury she had earlier presented.

She wasn't all bad, after all.

[...]

‘’James Potter .. what an honor!’’ Hagrid, a half-giant who always showed up at his house telling stories about strange and dangerous animals, smiled at him, hitting him on the back with a force that made him walk two steps forward.

‘’Hi Hagrid.’’ He returned the smile, looking  excitedly behind him and seeing the boats positioned.

After the rookies were summoned and put on boats, crossed the river below the night sky with few stars, Mira was beside him, her eyes looking like a part of the sky, shining with the magnificent view of Hogwarts. The castle looked bigger and more splendid than any photograph, description, or drawing he had ever seen and heard. It was real, grand, and now it was his new home.

As they left the boats and were led into the castle, the children's voices seemed to triple- the excitement of standing in that hall, waiting to be called up for the sorting. A tall, strong, well-groomed professor, showing a scar that cut his eyebrow and a little bit of his left eyelid, appeared. ,He explained the houses, the hat and introduced himself, Frank Johaan, Defense Against the Dark Art teacher . When they entered the Great Hall, which his father had spoken so much of, James thought he might fall over right there, looking at the tables, the teachers, the decoration above him, the walls laden with flags of the houses, the ghosts walking around. .. It was almost like daydreaming. No photograph  lived up to what James was seeing

And just as his father had informed him, when the time came, the Sorting Hat on a stool, looking old and worn, began to sing.

When Headmaster McGonagall gave a slight smile after welcoming the students - and James thought he saw her smile bigger when she saw him - Professor Johaan stood erect beside the stool, a scroll in his left hand and the right on top of the hat

‘’When I call your name, come here and sit down.’’

The names began, applause whenever the house was shouted at by the patched hat.With each person, the boy felt more apprehensive, looking around anxiously and seeing Mira from a short distance, looking confident, hardly even blinking during the wait.

‘’Potter, James Sirius’’ He could have sworn he saw the Headmistress getting ready in the chair to watch, making him feel even more nervous; And with weak legs, but without showing it, he started the long walk to the stool, everyone's eyes following him, and the teachers looking at him with curiosity. He took a deep breath before sitting on the stool and left his mind free, listening even to his heartbeat.

‘’Ah a Potter ... I know them so well. A brave heart ... ‘’ Said the hat, and he thought it was magnificent ‘’I can't help but notice, too big even for a giant's body’’. Without thinking, he looked sideways at Hagrid, who was smiling anxiously while sitting in one of the chairs set for the teachers. ‘’But would that only help you? .. A vast intelligence, certainly, but I cannot deny the truth ... Gryffindor!’’

The Gryffindor table rose to a fuss, eagerly applauding and welcoming him, with huge smiles and nods when he sat down, everyone congratulating him and talking about how amazing it was that they had a Potter there.

‘’Hazel, Mira’’ She walked confidently, not even blushing.  Her braided hair trailing behind her and her black eyes looking like two black holes in her pale face. She sat on the stool, waiting for the call, the sorting hat was put on, and stayed there for some time.

James’ godmother had told him about this, about students sometimes sitting up to five minutes waiting, they were students who confused the hat, they had many attributes that stood out and could easily fit in more than one house, as had happened with her.

The blonde was waiting in the same way as when she sat down, calm and seeming to assess with the hat, after what seemed like three or more minutes - he hadn't been there so long, and if he had, he would have died of anxiety - the hat screamed;

-Gryffindor!

His  house table began to clap again, the blonde descending cheerfully and full of smiles, greeting those at the end and sitting next to James, her eyebrows half-arched and in an almost balmy way, showing in her eyes

‘’It looks like we'll be colleagues, Potter.’’ Mira said as she raised her chin and exuding confidence , drawing a laugh from James. 

‘’So it seems.’’ And for some reason, he was happy with that.

[datleggy]

Prompt: Eddie and Buck are together and Buck has never felt as serious or as committed as he does once he and Eddie get together. But the rest of the group doubt his seriousness/ability to be with Eddie only because of Buck’s previous wild ways and they continue to make side comments about it, until Buck starts doubting himself and wondering if Eddie deserves better which infuriated Eddie when he sees how horrible it has made Buck feel

this is short and very cheesyyyyyyyyyy i hope u like it anyway!

COMMITMENT

Buck knows he’s being sensitive about this whole thing. 

He tries to brush it off and pretend not to be phased by the remarks his team makes regarding his relationship with Eddie. They announced about a week ago that they’re moving in together--a decision they came to after dating for the past seven months. 

Buck is beyond his wildest dreams excited about the move, excited about spending more time with his boys, and most of all excited to be starting this new chapter in his life. 

He had really been hoping the 118--his family--would also be thrilled about the new development. 

Instead he’s gotten comments like: “Eh, I give it two weeks tops.” And, “Moving kinda fast, huh?” Or, “I never thought I’d see the day.” and so on. 

And it’s fine. Really. They’re just joking.

Buck is making a way bigger deal out of it than he should be. He knows this. So he tries his best to ignore the ribbing; it’ll pass soon enough, he just needs to wait it out and stop being a baby. 

Except that on his way to Eddies--or rather, what is soon to be his home--Captain Nash stops him as he's leaving the firehouse. “You got a minute?” he asks. 

“Yeah Cap, what’s up?” 

“Listen, I just wanted to say, you’re still young, and sometimes we rush into things without thinking them through entirely and--” 

Buck tilts his head. “Um, what are you talking about?” 

Bobby sighs. “It’s about you moving in with Eddie. I know you two have been dating for a few months, and you’re having fun, but I need you to understand that Eddie has a child, and when you move in you’re making a big impact on that kids’ life, it’s not just about you and it’s not just about Eddie anymore. You need to be one hundred percent sure, one hundred percent committed, before taking such a big step. You get what I mean, right? No one here would judge you for reconsidering, maybe taking some more time to think it through?” 

Buck can feel the heat rising up from his neck to his ears. Is this what it feels like to get the shovel talk from your prom dates dad? Only instead of ‘if you hurt him you’re toast’ it’s more like ‘don’t even bother trying’. 

“Uh, yeah, no, I know what you’re saying. I will, don’t worry.” he rushes out of the station after that, unable to look at Bobby in the eye. 

Is that what the team thinks this is for him? That he’s just having fun and passing the time with Eddie? 

But it’s not like Buck hasn’t given them enough ammunition over time. It makes sense that they wouldn’t think he’d be serious about this relationship--when he’s rarely been in the past. It reminds him of the time that guy online had been using his photo and name to date women on the internet. Abby and his team had all been pretty skeptical over his claims of innocence back then. 

What if everyone is right? What if he reverts back to his old immature self and what if he’s not enough for Eddie? What if he and Christopher hate living with Buck? What if Eddie decides he doesn’t need him in their lives, after all? 

By the time he makes it home--to Eddie’s--Buck is spiraling with crippling self doubt. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look pale---well, more pale than usual.” Eddie jokes lightly, putting down the book he’s been reading. 

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Buck blurts out, before he can chicken out. 

Eddie sits up, concern and confusion knitting his brows together. “What? Buck, what are you talking about?” 

“You know, us. Us and moving in together. Is it too soon? Because I get it if you need more time, to like, think about it and stuff. It’s kind of a big decision and I don’t want to rush you into anything--” 

Eddie stands up, walks over to Buck, and rests his hands over his shoulders. “Hey, look at me, breathe; you gotta’ calm down and then we can talk about this super sudden change of heart you’re having? Here, sit.” he gently leads his boyfriend into the living room so they can have this conversation more comfortably. 

Buck sighs. “I’m sorry, I know I’m freaking out, it’s just…” 

“What happened?” 

“I’m happy with you, with you and Christopher, and I just really don’t want you to regret this next step we’re taking, if this is too fast for you or for Christopher." 

Eddie shakes his head. “Buck we talked about this. And honestly, this whole moving in thing is more a formality than anything--in case you haven’t noticed you’ve been basically living here for the past two months. 

“Your toothbrush is in the bathroom, your hair gel, your shampoo and conditioner, your body wash, all of it’s in there; all your favorite foods are in the fridge and in the pantry, also all your clothes are in my closet, your underwear are in my drawers--and it’s not just stuff. 

“Buck, my abuela calls the landline looking for you more often than she does to talk to me, you drop and pick Christopher up from school so much his teacher invited you to the next parent teacher conference next week. And last month when you had to go back to your apartment for a whole week because your moronic upstairs neighbor flooded your bathroom Christopher and I were miserable here without you. 

“I have never been more sure of anything, Buck. I want you to move in. Officially.” Eddie takes his boyfriends’ hands into his and squeezes. “Now, tell me what’s really wrong.” 

Buck chews on his lip anxiously. “It’s nothing, really. I let all these little comments get to me, and then Bobby’s weird shovel talk made me feel some type of way, I guess. It’s dumb.” 

“What comments? And I’m sorry, did you say Cap gave you the shovel talk?” 

Buck shrugs, looking away. “Just, you know,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “Before you joined the team I was this wild, immature kid who never really thought with the right head, if you get what I’m saying? And so, I get why they think that maybe I’m still that same guy, who hops around  from person to person, and can’t commit. That’s the word Bobby used, he said if I wasn’t a hundred percent committed to this, to you and to Christopher, that I should reconsider. But I don't want to." 

"You are committed. I don't even have to ask you to know it." Eddie says fiercely. 

Buck breathes out. Relieved. "I am. I've never wanted anything more. I love you. The both of you." 

Eddie leans in, slowly closing the distance between them. "And I love you." 

Bucks eyelashes flutter and his heart stutters for a beat. He lets himself be pulled in the rest of the way. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, kissing him softly on the mouth, and Buck can feel Eddies warm breathe on his face as he pulls away. 

"I'll be back." He gets up from the couch and grabs his jacket off the hook by the door. 

“Um, where are you going?” 

“I’m just gonna’ go have a chat with Bobby, that’s all.” He says, putting his keys in his back pocket. 

Buck blinks. “Wait, what--” 

Eddie opens the door and leans in to kiss Buck one more time before stepping out. “Christopher’s asleep. Leftovers from dinner are still warm in the oven, I’ll be back in a bit. Love you.” 

Buck is left standing at the doorway, a crooked smile on his face. Even though it feels as if he just sent the equivalent of a raging storm over to the 118, it also feels nice to know that Eddie cares that much.

Bobby looks up, surprised to see Eddie--who was off today--at the station so late at night. Hen and Chim, who are fighting over a video game, pause it when the younger man stomps inside. 

“Everything alright?” the Captain asks. 

“Oh yeah, everything’s great--except for the fact that apparently my boyfriend needs to reconsider moving in with me?” 

Bobby raises his hands in a placating motion. “Eddie, that is not what I meant. Buck can be impulsive sometimes, I don’t want him to end up hurting you or Christopher because of it, that’s all. It's nothing to do with you.” 

“After all this time, is that really what you think of him? You know damn well how much he values your opinion--all of your opinions--” he says, pointing at Hen and Chim, too. “But most especially yours, Cap. He’s been so ecstatic about this move, and today he came home miserable, doubting himself because of what you said." 

Bobby looks suitably chastised. "Miserable? That wasn’t my intention at all--I just, sometimes I’ll admit I still see him as my ki--a kid--" he corrects himself last second, “I should know better. I didn’t realize my opinion meant so much to him.” 

"Of course," Eddie shakes his head. "Buck cares a hell of a lot what you all think of him." 

Bobby grimaces. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things to him."

Chim sighs, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, Cap isn't the only one. Maddie and I teased him about the big move last week at dinner." 

Hen nods. "We've all been less than supportive. I feel awful, guys." She looks at her watch. "Shift ends in five. I think we should all go and apologize."  

Bobby looks to Eddie. "Only if it's not too late. I'm sure Christopher's asleep by now; I wouldn't want to intrude so late at night." 

Eddie shrugs. "Never too late to say sorry." 

Only the light in the hall is on by the time Eddie gets home with three other firefighters in tow. 

Christopher must have woken up some time after he left. 

In the living room, on the couch, Buck is sat half slouched with Christopher laying on top of him, head against his chest. Charlotte's Web is loosely held in one of Buck's hands, almost falling off the couch. They're both soundly asleep. 

"On second thought, maybe midnight was a little ambitious for an apology." Eddie mutters. Buck had just finished a twenty four hour shift, after all. 

Seeing Buck like this, with Christopher, it makes Bobby feel that much more ashamed for his unnecessary little talk earlier in the day. Buck is ready. How had he not seen that before? 

He claps Eddie's shoulder lightly. "We'll be back tomorrow. He's had a long week. We should let him get some rest." 

Eddie nods, leading everyone back out quietly. "I'm holding you to that."