#just randomly gets ideas and Will is the one that anchors him down and makes sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid

[wakkoroni]

hey so i saw your post about nico being happy and the line about him being manic: could you expand on that hc, I'm curious now you've said it

Heyyy sorry im kinda answering this a little late but id love to expand on it!

I’m glad you asked I was kinda waiting for someone to comment on that and I was going to expand on it and then… forgot- I actually had like a whole fic planned for it and never followed through because idk life happened or smth BUT

Just want to clarify that I have done research to the best of my ability and although this may not be the most medically accurate hc, it is a hc so don’t take it too personally

So manic episodes can happen regardless if the person is bipolar or not, someone doesn’t have to be bipolar to experience manic episodes. Sometimes highly stressful situations and trauma and cause manic episodes (both of which Nico very much has and if Nico is bipolar I wouldn’t be suprised but anyway-)

I don’t think the headcanon of Nico being manic is too far-fetched because have you seen him??? Like I just think it fits because he is pretty impulsive and I feel like there would be times where Nico just has really high energy levels (which is a good and a bad thing) and when it first starts Will is like “oh yay- are you okay?” Nico dismisses it as like “I’m getting better” and Dionysus is just staring at him like “I have news for you-“ and ruins his day

With the help of Dionysus he learns to manage it and Will helps out too by noticing the signs. Mania has different levels so maybe his might not be a high extreme so maybe hypomania or smth but it’s there.

It’s the little things that sell the hc really

Thanks for the ask! I wish I could explain how I got to this hc but I really don’t remember how- I just have the hc running around in my head

[dcxdpdabbles]

I’ve seen you said you take prompts, so, I had an idea if you’re interested.

So, imagine Danny has an assignment from Clockwork, and as punishment for a prank he pulled where he messed with something and unintentionally pulled CW’s attention away from the timelines for long enough for the Flash to accidentally ruin the timeline, after the timeline was fixed Danny’s forced to go and fix every single broken clock in the solar system. This includes stuff like watches and the batcave clock, maybe a few timed bombs, something on the watchtower, villain bases, etc.. Everyone is extremely confused and concerned as to how and why this eldritch kid with the Mark of Kronos is appearing randomly in their secret bases. Danny isn’t just fixing the clocks, sometimes he pulls Shenanigans depending on where he has to go. If he sees clones in a lab, he’ll call up Dani and they’ll pull off a heist together and she’ll take care of teaching and raising them afterwards. Talons? Danny opens a portal to a section of the infinite realms and gives them their own island after having the yetis go through deprogramming with them and stuff. He sees some stuffy fruitloop batcave? Graffiti and glitter. Lazarus pits? Free smoothie! Of course, he’s respectful to civilians when he bumps into them, giving little unmeltable ice statues to kids, helping people who need it, etc. He fixes a family heirloom watch, bringing tears to a grandson’s eyes. He’s helping people while on his mission, while also messing with any fruitloops he finds. So all of these people around the world are just really confused and being like, what in the world, who/what is this kid?! And sharing stories about him online, painting him as a cryptid or god or whatever. The Justice League and the villains are just Concerned because the kid feels like Kronos, time, and death energy, and have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish. Maybe they think that working clocks give him power, idk, just thinking of the conspiracy boards about Danny as he goes through his punishment and fixes every single clock, including on other planets (Danny practically squealing the whole time as he meets *aliens* in *space*! What cool technology and life!) This is meant to be a punishment but Danny’s living out his dreams. Sure it’s boring at times, but all this traveling is interesting and can help him bond with Dani, so this isn’t much of a punishment for him. He gets to be mischievous and help people out, it’s a win-win. Meanwhile everyone else is thinking that the end of the world is coming and that Kronos has been reborn and is trying to take over the world somehow with clocks. If you’re willing to expand or add to this or make it your own, please do!

I love the idea of Danny just *poof* "Yes, hello, I am the clock-smith" in the middle of, say, the watch tower. Floating up to the clock wall to adjust the time while pulling out a manual on time zones in different parts of space. The watch tower is within Earth's intergalactic waters per se, but which Earth time did he set it to???

Should he anchor it to one place or just place a spell on it to show all the time zones in a cycle? Does Clockwork have a procedure for this?

Meanwhile, all the heroes in the cafeteria are jumping to their feet, some whispering, "A fifth dimension imp!" and others yelling, "It's Kronos!"

Wonder Woman kneeling before the flouting teen does not help these accusations, as she loudly proclaims, "It's an honor to be of service, Lord Kronos."

Danny looked down at her. "Oh hey, an Amazonian."

"Why have you graced us with your presence? Is there anything this lowly servant can help you with?"

".....Can you gather all the watches for me?"

"At once!" And that's how the rest of the heroes almost have heart attacks because Wonder Woman herself is rushing at them at terrifying speed to rip away any form of watch from their bodies. She's on a war path, and no one can stop her. They can see it in her eyes- she'll draw blood if she has to.

They hand over their watches without much of a fight, feeling like they are being mugged. Wonder Woman sprints away to the next few levels- the screams of fellow heroes echoing in her wake.

Batman isn't as willing to cooperate with Kronos until he knows why the god is here, but Danny doesn't give him much of a choice. Mostly because he is uncontainable. Thankfully, he seems fixated on watches (Bruce writes in his notes, "Can gods be autistic???), and he leaves once they are all fixed.

He changes everything to be precisely twenty-nine hours ahead of whatever time they originally were at. Wonder Woman basically barked at everyone to not switch them back, banishing her sword.

From there, Batman does research with his sons and daughters. Tim finds the information of Danny appearing throughout history to fix watches, and Hal finds similar historical text in Oa's archives—usually right before a horrible tragedy. Further investigation shows a horrendous discovery.

Danny adds or subtracts the same number of hours from the told time as before the tragedy.

He was on Mars three hours before the tipping point of the civil war when the tremendous green Martian massacre happened. He added three hours to the green Martian's capital clock tower.

He was there on Krypton twenty-five hours before the planet was swallowed up by a black hole and exploded. Every public area with any form of time telling was changed to twenty-five regardless of whether it matched the planet's time zone.

And now he was here in the clock tower.

Bruce realizes that they have only one hour left, so he commands everyone to rush about and search for what could be the issue. It's only thanks to the Speedsters' quickness that they find the malfunction in the tower's core—the thing keeping them flouting. Had they been one hour too late, it would have caused the Tower to get pulled into Earth's gravitational pull.

Leading to them crashing into Earth- right above the most populated country of the world, possibly killing millions and leaving the world without their heroes.

The tragedy is avoided but now everyone is weary of when or where Kronos will appear.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is watching the timeline, amused that they think Danny is him when, in reality, Danny is just picking a random time and sticking the clocks to match since it's less math.

[lady-of-endless]

hi!! can i please request for a cuddling headcanons with law and kid with a fem reader? thank you so much and hope you're having a great day <3

Cuddling headcanons (Trafalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid)

Author's Note: I've been waiting for this one! And especially for these two. Thank you ❤️ Hope you'll like it!

Trafalgar D Water Law

- Cuddling with someone like Law might feel awkward and uncertain at first. His reticence might be mistaken for discomfort. It makes you ask if he really wants it or not. But again, this is only at first.

- After a few moments, he starts to feel less awkward and more accepting with the sense of vulnerability and physical closeness.

- Law is prone to having nightmares or overthinking. When he wakes up from a nightmare breathing heavily and gripping his shirt at his chest, only holding you close to him calms him the fastest. However, when he's overthinking, you'll notice him laying down somehow far away from you. Leave him a little space for some moments and after that gradually get closer until you can embrace him. The feeling of your arms around him anchors him back in the present.

- Once the roles switch and he is the big spoon, there's no turning back. So get used to how his facial hair tickles your shoulder as he puts this chin there.

- With him, I feel like you're the one to initiate cuddling more often. Not because he's opposed to it but because he's busy.

- He also stays up all night quite frequently studying or planning. So just pull him by his sleeve and guide him somewhere comfy. Of course he'll throw some comments about it but ignore those.

- He looks at cuddles as an opportunity for connection. Expect him to be a little more open in this moment of closeness and intimacy. He'll talk a little more. The sound of his calm and relaxed voice is also oh-so soothing.

- Both Law and Kid were used to resting alone, not cuddling with someone. This only means that it will take a while for them to get used to it. Law will probably be the last.

- He has cold hands and feet. Sometimes he tries to warm them up before getting close to you, sometimes he puts his cold hands right on your back just because he finds your reactions amusing.

Eustass Kid

- Not to compare these two in any way but Kid's cuddles might be a little more comforting, physically.

- Cuddling with Kid feels like a safe heaven because of how he's embracing you tightly in his grip.

- His larger frame definitely helps. Imagine that you were to share a bed (oh this is another good idea for some hcs), a small bed. It will be impossible for him to put some space between you two because of his size. He'll just grunt and get closer to you.

- He doesn't want to feel vulnerable so under no circumstance he'll be the small spoon. (Spoiler: there might be an exception)

- However, until then, good luck convincing him to come cuddle with you. I think it's more plausible for him to randomly lay down next to you without saying anything than accepting your wish.

- Once Kid gets the taste of it and how good it feels, he'll start initiating cuddles more often. He doesn't do it verbally, he just tugs you lightly towards him.

- He suffers from phantom limb syndrome, which manifests pain when he takes off that prosthetic. So, it especially happens at night when you cuddle. Kid is stubborn enough not to accept painkillers. But you can help him. Be close to him, keep his mind off it, caress him, talk to him as you're holding him. Yes, that's the only time he will let himself be held.

- He's so oblivious to how messy his hair gets after cuddling. Don't say anything to him, let his crewmates see and giggle at their captain's activities.

- Opposite to Law, he's a human radiator. You'll probably get sweaty but he won't mind it. He'll just tease you about it but won't let you go from his arms.

[sh0tanzz]

shotaro as bf and ideal type pretty please, thankyouuu

SHOTARO AS YOUR BF based on astrology ~

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)

Sagittarius Sun: In a vid Riize made around the time love119 came out Sohee asked the guys what they'd do if they accidentally liked their crushes posts and Sho said he wouldn't care and would let it be to show that he's interested...and yea that sums him up 😭. He'd be pretty blunt about being interested in you in the beginning..like imo when a sag sun genuinely wants you you'll know and they'll definitely LET you know, he'd ofc be your friend initially but he would most def be flirty (especially with that scorpio mercury sextile his cap venus) and try to have a specific personal rapport with you and inside jokes between you two. Would be a personal mission for him to make you laugh and spend time with you. Once you two are officially together he'd want to have so many fun memories with you. He also may have this want to "wow" you or show you things nobody else has shown you before.. "a taste of what youve been missing" type of guy yk. Similarly to Sohee, it would be like dating your bsf. There's an idea that Sag suns can be flighty but his cap/scorpio placements help anchor him down imo.

Scorpio Moon: Super Observant pt.1. The moon is in fall in scorpio and his moon is opposite to saturn so he might have a hard time expressing his more intense emotions. He might similarly to Eunseok keep things to himself and not really letting you know unless you pry it out of him or if he does attempt to tell you himself he'd be pretty vague to ensure that you don't worry. On the other hand, he's pretty big on things such as loyalty and honesty and that would be a big theme in the relationship. Super protective. He reads into your feelings and is pretty emotionally intuitive so he'd know how you feel without you needing to say much. A downside is he can take things pretty personal and if he feels hurt or betrayed he could be very struck down by it and might even feel like "returning the energy", it would be more passive since libra is in mars but it would be sooo obvious. Also his eye contact goes craaazyy.

Scorpio Mercury: Super Observant pt.2. He is very analytical and pays deep attention to what you say and how you say it, so he sometimes might overthink or worry himself by looking way too deep in between the lines of things you tell him. He has moon conjunct mercury so similar to Anton he can speak deeply from the heart as well as remembers everything in regards to you (downside if you said something that hurt his feelings he'd remember it FOREVERR). He also has venus sextile mercury so he most def has a seductive charm within his words or his flirting can be very upfront or comes naturally to him and since his mercury is in scorpio he'd know exactly what to say from your past reactions. Also he might stalk your insta when initially getting to know you to find out things himself.

Capricorn Venus: LOCKED IN LIKE GLUEEEE. Would prefer to take the lead or be the dominant counterpart. Cares sm about loyalty. Would rather talk through problems and endure throughout a relationship rather than just dropping everything. He loves physical touch and gift giving both ways. A common occurrence in Capricorn venus men is to kinda just constantly provide to keep their partner pleased so he may just randomly give you gifts and not just plain gifts they’d have a specific value to them or acts of service/doing tasks for you in order to keep you happy. Takes the relationship pretty seriously especially since he has a Scorpio moon. Since he has Venus square Mars he lowkey likes having to “endure” and for things not to be super easy? He enjoys a cat and mouse dynamic or for one partner to not give in so easily..kind of as though he kinda has to work for your love and attention or a "hate"/love kind of situation. He might also deal with a lot of "right person, wrong timing" scenarios or have periods where he just can't be 100% there for his partner and the guilt of it probably eats him up inside. Quietly possessive, seems ok and says he’s ok on the surface but inside he’s seething trying to not start tweaking. 😭

Libra Mars: Pretty avoidant when there’s a severe conflict in the relationship. He might wait to actually get to the bottom of the issue and may jump around the topic but when it’s time to finally speak up and out he really does try to speak from his heart from his Scorpio mercury. He just really cares about coming together again and keeping the peace 😭. If there were issues he’d either become distant or passive aggressive. His Mars is sextile Pluto so he can be very intense and even obsessive about things like passion and consistency but due to the fact the aspect isn’t harsh and his mars is in libra his approach isn’t as harsh or threatening. Very quick to become your friend or at least familiar with you when he’s first interested in you because how else will he find out as much as he possibly can.. He might lowkey put his emotions to the side to pay more attention to yours and what you have going on/your happiness and deal with his issues on his own. He also has mars trine uranus so he may have random bursts of being passionate and energetic and then a random switch to being chill and more to himself.

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

requests are open?? umm,, yes please! i love your writing so much!!!

“...” “...” “do you want to kiss?” “yeah.” with jake, but jake’s the one asking as opposed to his usual just going for it.

Az, you are wonderful!! My inbox is always open for you <33 and everyone else!!

Prompt under the cut

Jake seresin x bestfriend!reader

word count: I have no idea probs around 1k??

warnings- nothing really, just tooth rotting fluff :)

Being with Jake was…normal. It was a natural to love him, to laugh or smile when he was around. He had that old school charm, whether he learnt it from his parents or just had it in him naturally. It never went unnoticed in a room full of people. It had never been awkward or silent with him, he always found a way to slither his way into a new conversation. It was natural being friends with Jake seresin, but sometimes you wished you were more.

You sat on the couch of your living room once dinner had been taken care of; Jake had asked his mother for the recipe of a favourite childhood meal of his.

You sat on the couch of your living room once dinner had been taken care of; Jake had asked his mother for the recipe of a favourite childhood meal of his.

He wasn’t the best at cooking but man could he cook a good meal when he was determined. It received many praises across the dinner table, the man was blushing, hard before he could even take his first bite.

All of you were a couple of glasses of wine in, slightly tipsy but not drunk enough to not be able to drive home. You sat next to Jake, calves extended to rest on his thighs, one his hands was warmly resting on top of it, motioning them up and down as you slowly doze off on the back of the couch.

“Looks like someone is asleep.” Rooster piped up from the foot of the sofa, reaching up to cover your exposed shoulders with the blanket that was hanging off of you.

Everyone slowly fell silent, quietly gathering themselves and their things; saying their goodbyes to Jake, who had managed to get to the door without waking you.

Once everyone had poured out of the house, Jake dimmed the lights of living room and the rest of the house. A thing you liked to do when you were trying to sleep or work, which usually ended with you dozing off on the couch. The blinding lights were not something you were the biggest fan of when you randomly wake up in the middle of the night.

Jake made his way towards you, carefully picking up a few glasses of wine that were left and a few bowls. Placing them in the kitchen sink before returning back to your sleeping figure.

He contemplated whether to wake you or take you straight to your room. The thought of you panicking over sleeping in your makeup and yesterday’s clothes the next morning is something he did not want to see.

So, as any good roommate would do, he snaked his arms under your legs and back and charged towards your bedroom. Carefully, making sure that he doesn’t slip on anything, he opened the door to your room across the hall. Your arms unconsciously hooked to his neck, tucking yourself in his chest just as he is about to lower you into your bed. One knee on the mattress while the other is

He moved back just a little to give you some space, but your hands stay anchored to his neck. Lowering him into you as you try to get comfortable without realising the hold you have on him.

He fully loses his balance with one tug of your hands, collapsing on top of you with a grunt, causing you to wake up with a groan.

“Ughh, what the-“

“Sorry-shit, sorry, I was trying to get you into bed but you just…didn’t let go.” He repeated getting off the thick mattress only to fall back clumsily on his ass.

You laughed, a little too loud than you’d meant to. He shoots you a glare and you clamp your lips together only to let out a fit of giggles as he tries getting up.

“Don’t…laugh at me, y/n/n,” you wear a shit eating grin while he fumes, failing to hide the smile behind the faux anger.

“You wanna laugh? Oh yeah I’ll show you how to laugh.”

In a brink he is climbing the bed, crawling towards you as his hands dash towards your sides. Holding onto them as his fingers work their way up and down them. You struggle to pry him away, laughing while spewing out pleas, thrashing around in his arms.

“No, Jake! No, stop!” Your breaths are getting heavier, chest rising and falling rapidly when he finally stops, holding your hands above your head to try and stop you from ripping his precious hair out that you had tried to pull in order to get him off.

He looks in your eyes, really looks. In a way no one has done before, you wonder whether the gold and emeralds specks were there when you met him for the first time. Or was it the lights? Why does he look so beautiful? The soft light of your room shines brightly off the mop of golden locks, creating a halo on his head.

There a moment of breathlessness between you, chest heaving as two breaths become one. You can smell the wine on his, while your is a little fruity, probably from the mango juice you had earlier.

You’re not sure if you are imagining it or not, but you can swear confidently on your left kidney that you saw his eyes shift to your lips, just an inch. Your eyes follow his lips, pretty pink and chapped.

“…”

“…”

You see them shift again, this time, it’s not tentative or carefully done. He stares at your lips for a moment longer than he should have. Hoping you would get the hint. But you don’t, instead, you are busy admiring the way he looks from this view, the warm light bouncing off him as his eyes shine. Beads of sweat making him glow.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question snaps you out of your daydream. Eyes widening at the carefully put question, you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You hope that he wouldn’t take it as a rejection, so you nod. Shaking your head up and down to indicate that he could.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” He commands gently, pushing a hair out of your face. His touch is hot, burning. Marking you in its wake.

You try again, closing your eyes to take a breath before muttering;

“Yes please.”

His lips latch onto yours like an anchor to the deep sea. Drowning in them, gently weaving it’s way through them before you are gasping for breaths, opening your mouth to let some air through and before you know it his tongue has swiped a taste of your sweet mouth, moaning at the taste.

He breaks away from you, a string of spit still keeping the two of you connected as his mouth is only centimetres away from yours, noses touching. Your hands somehow have found their way into his hair, as one drops down to his face; you realise he is shaking, holding his entire weight on his hands as he stays on top of you. His skin hot, flaming in a cherry red that has coloured both of your ears red.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Yes, please”

Taglist:

@bussyslayer333 @fandomunite2107 @wolfiealina @crthurston @ravenhood2792 @elicheel @arson-tm @lemur46 @harrycherrylove @dempy

@fandom-life-12

[herblackabyss]

About • Tag List • Ask • Series Masterlist •

[Title] 7 Dates, 7 Conflicts [Rating & Genre] [M] 18+, strangers to lovers, slow burn, Collage AU [Pairing] Jeon Jungkook x Reader (Amaya Bradford) [Trigger Warnings] a few cuss words

[A/N] I'm baaacckkk~! I apologize for my absence, but I truly struggle with this whole social media and social interaction thing. I had to restructure this part because I've come to the realization that my brain doesn't quite know how to write multiple events into one part...

P.S the last bit is a mess but I'll update it soon...<3

ALSO HAPPY HUNTER DAAYYY!!

[Word Count] 2740

"This is an absolute colossal fucking disaster, Chenle," I hiss under my breath, pacing across my bedroom with my phone clutched tightly to my ear. On the other end, the low hum of my best friend's tired yawn slips through the line, the digital clock on my nightstand casting an ominous glow – 10:47 PM.

I roll my eyes, my frustration lacing into the very syllables of my words. "I mean, how on earth are we even supposed to tackle this if he's out there getting his dick sucked instead of meeting me to work on the assignment?" Veronica had given us a unique homework assignment during our last COMM101 class—a creative pair-building exercise intended to break the ice. It was supposed to be an opportunity for Jungkook and me to explore each other's perspectives and come up with something that was at least halfway decent. Yet, instead of paying even a sliver of attention, Jungkook seemed to be far more interested in sketching bizarre doodles across my meticulously taken lecture notes. Since that fateful Monday morning, I've embarked on a one-woman crusade to pin him down and get him to work on it. But every attempt I make is met with flimsy excuses and empty promises. He's always conveniently "busy" or "tied up with something else." And me? I'm not naive enough to swallow those slippery words whole, not when they spill from his slick, slithering tongue like a practiced dance. As the relentless ticking of the clock emphasizes the looming deadline for my not-so-friendly essay, the harsh reality sets in. I realize that I know next to nothing about this bumbling baboon, except for the fact that he can't seem to keep his... cock out of people's mouths. The idea of crafting an essay detailing his countless escapades with the campus coeds is tempting, but it also feels like a peculiar form of self-inflicted torture. I flop onto my bed, clutching my phone as if it's my only lifeline in this chaotic situation.

"Guess I'll just have to corner him tomorrow," I murmur to myself, feeling a potent mix of determination and resignation settle in my chest like a heavy anchor. I reach out for the worn notebook resting nearby and flip it open, its pages ready to receive my thoughts and ideas for the upcoming project, even if, for now, it's a solo endeavor. After all, if Jungkook insists on making things difficult, I'm more than willing to return the favor. "Key word: 'probably,' but I can't take that risk with Jungkook," I try to speak as calmly as possible, frustration mounting within me. There's no way I can just sit here and hope he comes to his senses. I need to take action. I shouldn't be in this position, having to babysit a grown man when it comes to his academics. I mean, seriously, I'm baffled by his attitude towards this assignment. How on earth is he the top student in the Computer Science department? Does the university randomly select his name from a hat filled with sheets of paper with only his name on them? Or is he secretly paying someone to do his assignments? "But I hope you're right," I concede with a sigh as I wrap up the call and head to bed.

"Jeon!" I shout, my voice slicing through the noisy street, instantly grabbing the attention of curious onlookers. He strides purposefully toward Avery's Bagel Shop, his arm wrapped around the waist of a wavy-haired blonde. Her stunning long legs propel her forward, her eyes locked on him, with hearts practically sparkling in them. As I watch their interaction unfold before me, it becomes painfully evident that this is a heartbreak in the making. Jungkook, of all people, isn't exactly renowned for his ability to commit, and that's common knowledge around campus. He cycles through new romantic interests every week, and he's openly professed his disinterest in love on countless occasions. Yet, here she is, hopelessly falling for him—poor thing.

I raise my voice, frustration bubbling within me as I call out to him once more. But he remains utterly indifferent, his gaze fixed solely on the entrance of the quaint, inviting eatery. With a graceful sweep, he swings the door open, his hand tenderly resting on her lower back as he ushers his companion inside. I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, my impatience growing by the second. I shake my head in disbelief before navigating my way across the bustling street. What the fuck is his problem? Stepping through the gleaming silver double doors, I make my way to the established ordering queue. Contrary to any wild ideas he might be concocting in his thick skull, I'm not here because of him. I wanted to get some work done on a few of my assignments before making my way to Chenle's place. Avery's holds a special place in my heart— it's been my favorite spot to grab a bite and study for years. Avery, the owner, is a culinary virtuoso in her mid-thirties, a mastermind behind a medley of bagel creations that are nothing short of life-altering. Over time, she's expanded her menu to include other breakfast and lunch delights, all of which keep people coming back for more.I became a regular of Avery's in her food truck era. Back then, she operated her modest business right in the heart of the city, serving her delectable creations from a weathered, banged-up red truck.Since then, I haven't looked back, it feels like I've gained a good friend and a great place to study when I need to. "Are you planning to ignore me for the rest of your life?" I say, my voice filled with frustration as I approach Jungkook. He's engrossed in a conversation with the blonde, oblivious to my approach. It amuses me how much effort he invests in girls he never intends to pursue beyond a casual fling. I mean, what's the point of all this when there are no intentions of going any further?

I watch as he slowly turns his head to identify the source of the voice. When he realizes it's me, his expression shifts, but he doesn't reply. The blonde clinging to his arm shoots me a nasty glare, clearly annoyed that I've interrupted their conversation. It's even more amusing to me that there are girls who willingly put themselves in such situations with guys like Jungkook, thinking they can be the ones to change them. "The assignment is due in just four days, Jeon, and I haven't even started because of you," I huff, frustration gnawing at me as I rummage through my bag to find my purse. Earlier, he had told me he had important matters to attend to today, which was why he couldn't meet with me. When I proposed meeting later in the day, he promptly shot down the idea, insisting he didn't have the time. So you can imagine my surprise when I spotted him with his little date. Emerging from the depths of my bag with my purse in hand, I shift my gaze toward him, awaiting his response. But there's nothing. No glimmer of recognition in his eyes, no hint of acknowledgment. He just stands there, unmoving, as if I'm invisible.

Is he really going to stand there and ignore me like a petulant child

I exhale a deep sigh, my eyes narrowing as I focus on the back of his head, frustration bubbling up inside me like a simmering volcano. A million wicked scenarios play out in my mind, each one more devious than the last, all focused on how I could effectively sabotage his date.

A mischievous thought dances through my mind. What if I were to swing my bag, aiming it at that unsuspecting, utterly useless head of his? And just for good measure, I could give his blonde friend a forcefully playful shove, a move that would surely knock her on her ass.

Or perhaps... A sly smirk gradually creeps across my face as a more subtle, yet equally potent, idea blossoms in my mind. It's nothing too extravagant, but I have complete confidence that it will work like a charm.

As I stand here, contemplating my revenge plot, I can't help but notice that the queue opposite the one I'm currently in has emptied out. Without missing a beat, I smoothly slide into that vacancy, feeling a rush of anticipation building within me. My eyes immediately fixate on the illuminated board behind the cashier's head. I tilt my head to the side, carefully examining my options before allowing my gaze to shift to Jungkook, whose irritated expression is now in plain view.

As I observe, a smug grin slowly creeps across my face. I can't help but revel in the satisfaction that washes over me as I witness the subtle twitch in his furrowed brow and the rhythmic clenching of his jaw. The tension practically oozes from his pores, an electrifying aura that I can almost taste. After all, he doesn't deserve to have a good day, not after all those lies he's been feeding me these past few days. I'm in absolute awe of his extraordinary ability to seemingly disregard my very presence. My eyes meticulously track his every move, from the way he confidently places orders for both himself and his date, to the charming, heart-melting smile he offers her and with a delicate touch, he tucks a strand of her golden locks behind her ear. It's almost as if the world revolves around them, and everyone else in the room merely fades into the background. I watch, captivated, as he tenderly grasps her hand, guiding her with a gentle assurance toward a cozy booth nestled in a secluded corner of the establishment. They settle in, their bodies so close that their shoulders brush against each other, creating an aura of intimacy that's impossible to ignore. Their conversation flows effortlessly, brimming with laughter and whispered sweet nothings. I have to admit, this guy knows exactly what to do to make a girl feel special.

A simmer of irritation bubbles beneath my skin, while amusement dances at the edges of my thoughts. Jungkook, so blissfully unaware of just how persistent I can be and utterly clueless about my insatiable appetite for pettiness, continues to test my tolerance for his behavior daily. What he doesn't know is that I've always been known for my excellence in theatrics, and quite frankly, if Jungkook wants to put on a performance, I'll give him a whole damn show.

As soon as I place my order, I waste not a single second in moving toward my target. I stride with unwavering purpose toward their booth, my head held high, my hips swaying seductively as I saunter across the room. A mischievous glint flickers in my eyes as I gracefully slide into the seat right beside him, his murderous glare meeting my unflinching gaze.

I respond with a sickeningly sweet smile, my voice dripping with a teasing tone, my eyes twinkling with faux longing. "I haven't seen you since Monday, Jeon. I really missed you," I say, letting a pout form on my plump lips as I lean in closer to him. My gaze shifts to his date as I rest my head on his shoulder. "Who's this, Kook?" I mumble, deliberately ignoring the way his fists clench between us. I'm fully aware that my intrusion on his little date will undoubtedly annoy the ever-loving shit out of him.

He exchanges a quick, awkward glance with his date, who appears thoroughly confused and uncomfortable with my sudden presence. I release a sigh, my gaze carefully assessing her features. "My replacement, perhaps?" I ask, shifting my attention back to him. I catch that split-second flicker of surprise on his face – he clearly didn't expect me to say that. "Amaya," he warns, his demeanor growing stern as he clenches his jaw, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. But if I'm completely honest, I've never been one to heed warnings; Chenle always claimed that it would take a miracle worker to handle my attitude. "I'm Amaya, by the way. You?" My focus shifts to her.

"Kiarra," she whispers, her voice barely audible, and I notice her eyes closely following my fingers as they delicately trace the contours of Jungkook's exposed neck. Her lips curl into a condescending smile as she shifts to the seat opposite ours. Girls like Kiarra, the quintessential "it" girl, always seem to gravitate towards guys like my insufferable group member.

To be honest, I've got her type down pat. Her shallowness cuts through the layers of designer labels and caked-on makeup. She gives off vibes of someone who places an exorbitant amount of importance on her position within the social hierarchy, evident in the meticulous effort she pours into her appearance.

She's undoubtedly frequented the finest surgeons, splurged on the most lavish clothes, and surrounds herself with a clique of girls who are both beautiful and, well, rather uninteresting. "So, how did you end up meeting my favorite boy?" I ask, a gentle smile gracing my lips, my head still comfortably nestled on his shoulder, my gaze locked onto her as we engage in this unspoken standoff. She's challenging me for control of the situation. "We met at Jimin's party last week," she responds with a manufactured smile, her impeccably white teeth on full display. However, I can discern the underlying annoyance in her eyes, even through her facade.

"Jimin's party," I inquire, my brows furrowing in faux hurt, pretending to be genuinely surprised as I maintain that delicate touch along Jungkook's collarbone. My fingers trace a slow, teasing path, eliciting a subtle shiver from him. "I'm hurt, Kookie. You told me you were too busy," I pout, my tone dripping with feigned disappointment. I shift my gaze to Jungkook, my eyes wide and glistening, attempting to make it appear as if I'm truly saddened by his recent evasiveness.

Kiarra, caught off guard by my interaction with Jungkook, shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She clears her throat, her irritation growing the longer I linger. "Well, I guess he had some free time after all," she retorts, her voice laced with hostility. The cracks in little miss perfect's facade are becoming more apparent, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off Jungkook in waves. He's obviously annoyed by my intrusion, but by the look on his face, you could never tell well aside from his clenched jaw. "Amaya, what are you doing?" His deep voice carries a warning as he slowly turns his head to look down at me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

I maintain my act, tilting my head ever so slightly to meet his gaze, a playful smile dancing on my lips. "I mean, I have to get your attention somehow, right?" I respond, my voice brimming with faux innocence. Leaning in a little closer, my lips hover dangerously close to his ear, and I whisper, "Besides, it's been weeks, and you've been so absorbed in... other endeavors." I punctuate my statement with a sly wink.

Kiarra's perfectly manicured nails clench onto the edge of her designer bag as she observes our little spectacle, clearly flustered.

Drawing even nearer to Jungkook, my lips graze his ear as I murmur, "You know, we do make quite the convincing pair, don't you think?" My words are laced with just enough mischief to set him on edge, and I can see the gears turning in his head as he contemplates how to navigate this unexpected scenario. "Excuse me," she mutters, abruptly pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Her frustration is palpable in her tone.

"Leaving so soon?" I inquire, my voice dripping with feigned concern.

Jungkook attempts to intervene, but Kiarra is already making her way toward the exit. "Kiarra, wait," he pleads, reaching out for her, but she brushes past him without a second glance.

With a theatrical sigh, I rest my head on Jungkook's shoulder once more. "Well, that didn't go as planned, did it?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement twinkling in his gaze. "You're un-fucking-believable."

I flash him a mischievous grin, my façade dropping as Kiarra departs. "Just rescuing you from a bad date, Kookie," I remark with a wink. "And reminding you that you can't keep avoiding our assignment forever." With a satisfied hum, I smoothly slide out of the booth and stride toward the exit, shooting him a playful wink before making my way to Chenle's place.

← PREVIOUS | NAVIGATION | NEXT →

[scienceoftheidiot]

Find the word tag game

I was tagged back by @littleragondin thank you ^^ and since you said you read my original stuff I tried to find more of it for this one :P but when I found both, I shared both, because why not ? :D

My words were : hands, kind, hope, scream, white

Since it's the second time I do it, I just keep it as an open tag (please show me what you find !!) and here are your words if you want to play: book, beer, dog, friendship, light

(you have no proof I just randomly picked stuff that are around me)(still I like this combo !)

Hands (1) - Like the back of your hand - Original story (one shot, complete) 

They had not seen each other in weeks. 

Diane had left for a hike - that was the perfect time of year, no tourists and good weather - and when she’d come back, drained, sunburned, and happy, Desden had been in a rush at work and so stressed he’d avoided her. 

That was in fact perfect, in Diane’s point of view. Three weeks exactly. Perfect. 

She still whined a little, for form. She knew him - if she understood right away and just left him alone, even if that was what he actually wanted and needed, he would feel she was drifting away from him. Even if nothing was less true. 

When they eventually met again, Desden had come pick her up at the bookshop. They were supposed to go get dinner somewhere. In reality, they barely managed to take the time to run to Desden’s flat before crashing against each other, kissing as if they had not seen each other in years rather than barely a month, hands everywhere. 

No, not really everywhere. Diane made sure to divert his hands from a small spot on her arm. 

Not yet. She did however let him expertly undress her and guide them both, still kissing, to the bedroom. 

Hands (2) - Royai WIP (codename Hayate)

To be frank, Roy had as much offered to take Hayate out to help her than to check on his lieutenant. Which was surviving. But not in great shape. 

Roy was thinking about where he could find a good takeaway soup to have it delivered to her tonight, when Hayate had decided to run after a squirrel. 

The squirrel was long gone now, and forgotten, after it climbed a sad looking tree, but Hayate didn't come back. 

Roy buried his hands – wearing actual leather gloves, not the light ignition ones – in his pockets and his nose in his scarf, grumbling, angry at this damned dog, at this awful weather, at winter in general, and maybe at his lieutenant for falling sick, just because. 

(oddly enough (no) I have lots and lots and lots of "hands" in my wips so I just selected two randomly lol)

Kind (1) - The Old Man - Original story (complete)

He sat down. Today, there were two sandwiches in his backpack, and a bottle of apple juice. He hadn’t felt at ease with the idea of bringing alcohol. 

Desden waited, thinking that in this era of cellphones and instant communication, it was some kind of revolution to just wait for someone on a bench, not knowing if they would come. The sun was strong again, this day, and he re-adjusted his glasses on his nose, still tilting his head back to enjoy its warmth. It wouldn’t be that warm for a long while, now. 

Kind (2) - Royai WIP - President Grumman's Little Puppet Theater

Hawkeye was just standing there, straight, almost rigid, her arms against her body, hands on the side of her thighs, and looking intently at him. She wasn't smiling. But she was there. 

When their eyes met, she relaxed slightly, tying her hands behind her back. She didn't smile, but her eyes did. 

This, he managed to mirror, as a wave of warmth rushed inside of him, threatening to make his knees buckle. He blinked, trying to get his bearings back. She blinked in response, steadying him once more. 

Suddenly, the rest of the unit was still crowding him, he still couldn't really tell what was happening, but it felt more like support, like pushing him further, than it was stifling. Pushing him towards her. She was his anchor, always had been. And she was still there. 

She was there. 

He gave Havoc his embrace back, had a nice word and a kind ear for Breda and Falman, thanked Fuery. 

And let them push him again, this time intently, towards Hawkeye. They stayed behind him, and he could tell without seeing them that they were moving aside, respectfully talking lower and probably looking away. And he loved them all even more for this. 

Hope (1) - Royai WIP (codename Dismissed Roy)

Riza could tell Falman was definitely put off by Roy, in the way he looked at him without moving. After all, he had not seen him since he'd left for Briggs. But, after a quick side glance to her, he took Roy's hand and shook it firmly. Roy was still smiling. 

"How's Briggs?" 

"It's getting very nice, this season. I don't have to wear gloves anymore. I hope summer allows me to ditch the winter coat." 

"Don't hope too much," Miles said sternly, opening his mouth for the first time since they got there. "Mustang. Lieutenant Hawkeye. I thought traveling with a, ah, known face would be a nice touch. And the lieutenant here will also prove pretty useful."

Hope (2) - Original WIP - Flowers

When she even opened the door for him, he wondered if she would go all the way up to pay for his flowers… but the florist came to his rescue, and the lady left. 

Too bad. Flowers were expensive.

“Hi, I remember you from last week! No problem with the plant, I hope?”

Scream (1) - Original WIP - Life During Wartime (WW1 AU)

Doctor Durand, as covered in blood as they all were, entered the overcrowded tent and ran towards them. His expression of determination changed to anger when he saw Diane. 

"What is she doing here? Get her off my patient."

"I need arms. She's a nurse. She's got work to do."

"She's cursed. Away with you, girl," Durand pushed Diane forcibly away. "I'll take care of this one, and he isn't going to die."

Diane knew better than to contradict the man who was after all their superior. She let go of the already weakening soldier, only to turn around when a loud scream rose, immediately followed by others.

It was like home, where echos sent you back whatever you yelled at the mountains. 

Except these echos sounded a lot more dangerous. 

“GAS ! GAAAAS !” 

Scream (2) - Royai WIP - President Grumman's Little Puppet Theater

The silhouettes were still walking towards him. There were more and more of them, as if the barn contained hundreds, thousands of burning men, women, and children. 

Roy wouldn’t, couldn’t move. 

The first searing hand caught his left wrist. 

Immediately, a hundred more reached for him, his other arm, his legs, his shoulders, his neck, his face. Scalding hot fingers tore at his skin, everywhere, every inch of it, pulling in every direction, setting his uniform aflame. 

And all Roy could do was scream. Scream at the top of his lungs. 

I’m sorry. 

White (1) - Original one shot - Fairy Lights

“I need an explanation.”

Diane came back from the living room into the kitchen, where Desden was finishing a gratin. Nothing spectacular, but the whole flat smelled of the various vegetables and mushrooms he’d previously sautéed. Diane, who often managed to fail boiling pasta, just couldn’t fathom how Desden did it. Stupid gratins became absolutely heavenly when he was the one cooking them. Go figure.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, watching him place the gratin in the oven. Night had already fallen, and the kitchen was only lit by the light from the living room - a special kind of light.

Desden finally turned around, his face going from pink to green, then to blue - in this light his eyes glowed almost white.

“An explanation for what ?”

“Why someone like you has fairy lights in his living room.”

(Desden might be angery and anxious but Diane is the bluntest woman ever to walk this earth, hi)

White - FMA Royal WIP (codename Swap) 

"Oh, shit, what –" 

Roy stepped aside, ready to leap outside of the randomly activated transmutation circle – 

And found himself in the middle of nothing. A very white and bright nothing. 

" – the fuck…" 

Narrowing his eye, he looked around, seeing only white until he was fully turned. 

He was standing in front of a gigantic, ornamented gate. It was set in the middle of nothing, a big pillar on each side, under a lintel adorned with statues. 

The inhumane ways the stone bodies twisted promised nothing good. 

[divinolenta]

one last time

diluc x gender neutral reader, angst/sfw

additional notes: uh randomly hurt myself by thinking of this right as i was about to sleep so here it is! my writing never turns out as good as the initial idea i swear...for this i would recommend listening to "the swan" by saint-saen. just a heads-up, starting tomorrow, i won’t be able to post as often as i’m going to be busier.

word count: 1,272

the winery, once busy and raucous, is now quiet as diluc prepares to close for the night.

you remain at the bar, finger tracing over the rim of your untouched drink, deep in contemplation.

you're jolted out of thought when fingers ghost against your hand, and diluc lets out an apologetic hum as he takes the glass from you.

silence descends once again, and you sigh softly, standing up, the stool screeching against the floor. it's time to go.

before you can make your way to the door, diluc speaks up from behind the bar, almost timidly. "when are you leaving?"

you offer him a melancholic smile. "tomorrow at dawn."

duty calls you to a far-away nation, and you have no choice but to obey. it meant endless exploring and adventuring, but you had to leave behind mondstadt, a place you had come to love dearly, along with close friends. a bittersweet opportunity, indeed.

"have you thought of staying?" the desperation in his voice is fleeting, but it’s there and you hear it.

"it’s not a choice, diluc, and you know best out of everyone."

he goes silent, but the way his jaw is clenching lets you know that he's frustrated. carefully placing down the glass that he was drying, diluc steps toward you.

you stiffen. out of everything, diluc is the only one who ties you so strongly to mondstadt. should you have guarded your heart more closely?

"it really is goodbye, then." he whispers, eyes cast down. you frown, reaching out to comfort him, but your hand hesitates, lingering, before retracting.

"before i leave, lets dance. one last time." you utter. not only to lighten the somber mood, but to remember fond memories, when you first met diluc at a masquerade ball a year ago. only a year with diluc, how cruel the gods were, to call you away so soon.

a hint of a smile surfaces, and he nods, offering you his hand. you grin, placing yours in his. diluc pulls you closer to him, and his hand lays on your waist while the other grasps your hand tightly, like you were grains of sand, destined to always slip through.

swaying gently, the only sound is the rustling of fabric as you automatically fall into the rhythm of a waltz, and you start to sing a familiar melody, lilting notes that are like honey to his ears.

diluc twirls you, and you laugh giddily. you wish for this moment to never end, to spend the rest of eternity in his arms.

yet, moments like these always end. moments that fill you with joy, like watching the sun shine, clouds breaking to show cerulean sky. however, the sun will disappear behind dark and foreboding clouds again, and all that's left is only the faintest memory, only a shadow of its former beauty.

diluc stills, and pulls your body flush against his, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. you blink back tears, dreading the inevitable goodbye.

"it's getting late" you murmur, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. diluc looks up, and you're enraptured by the intensity of his eyes. deep crimson, the colour representing the fiery passion of his very being, the passion that he's loved you with.

diluc is left vulnerable in your presence, and as you stare in his eyes, you hate to know that he's shattering into a million of pieces, and that it's because of you.

he's your anchor, the one you look for to seek shelter from the tumultuous world, to pull you back to reality, so when his eyes gloss over with tears, you find yourself unsteady, drowning in despair.

you're leaving. just like everyone in his life has. diluc should hate you with venomous intent, but all he feels is bitter sorrow, and all he wants to do is forgive you.

diluc presses his forehead to yours. "stay with me." he begs, and you break at how desperate he sounds. he wants you to stay but you can't, and he knows that.

tears begin to fall, and you feel like someone is squeezing your heart, twisting it viciously. it hurts so much, you shake, and grip his coat with trembling fingers to steady yourself.

your lips nudge against his from the proximity of your faces, and diluc captures them feverishly. you taste the saltiness of tears but you're not sure if it's from yours or his.

his kisses convey what he can't. stay with me, please. i love you. don't leave me.

he kisses you like his life depends on you, because it's true. if you leave, he'll be lost to the turmoil of his thoughts, alone to hopelessly claw through memories, sift through his past and climb that ominous mountain to confront the truth. he needs you, just like how people need oxygen to survive.

diluc pulls away, breathless, and he's a mess, but even so, you find him captivating. you reach to cup his face, eyes roving over his features. tears have dried on his porcelain skin, and his lips are swollen from kissing you senseless, but he's still so beautiful.

you want to brand his face into your memory, never wanting to forget the exact shade of his eyes, the way his hair curls, or the curve of his mouth.

slowly, diluc sinks to the ground, too shaky to stand. you follow him, pulling him into your chest as you stroke his hair. he's so strong yet fragile, and for a brief second, you wish diluc has never met you, to save him from this.

"i could write you letters everyday." you mention meekly, but the attempt at comforting him is futile, because diluc knows just as well as you, know that letters will only be a temporary solution.

what comes after letters? after the initial feelings of loneliness and longing, all that would be left of your relationship would be faded memories of times that would no longer be significant to either of you.

he lifts his head, eyes boring into yours insistently. "it's no use." he whispers, and your heart sinks at how defeated he sounds. just like that, he’s given up, knowing that destiny has called, guiding you further and further away from him. 

maybe it’s meant to be. 

his lips curve into a tentative smile as he brushes his fingers against your cheek. "i love you."

your eyes fill with tears at the sheer adoration in his voice. you shake your head, fingers clasping around his wrist, as you lean into the warmth of his hand. "please don't." your voice cracks, and diluc falters.

"i love you." he repeats, more firmly this time.

"i love you too." you answer, slumping against him. diluc holds you, not a word escaping as you simply bask in each other's company, cherishing the little time you have left together.

you want to grow old with him, quit adventuring so you can work at the winery with him and share his burden, enjoying the security of having a home, where you can always return to. you want to travel the world with him by your side, fingers intertwined, just as how you’ve given each other your hearts and trusted the other not to break it. you want to hold him as you sleep and wake up every morning and know that he’s next to you, sleeping soundly. 

alas, it’s too late to regret everything, too late to let yourself get lost in wistful thoughts when you’ve already made your decision. 

as the moon continues its steady climb into the sky, you stay there, in diluc's arms, hearts united, one last time.

[leqclerc]

how is your workfow when you're making an edit? (the thought process behind it, etc!)

Oh, this is such an interesting question! 👀

Honestly, it depends. The 'simple' gifs are just clips I've seen around that I thought were kind of interesting and worth giffing. It's so funny, because it's always the stuff you giffed randomly, the silly stuff, that ends up exploding and getting like 700-1k notes completely unexpectedly 🙈 Case in point: my top two gifsets on this blog are literally Charles complaining about being called French and Charles struggling with a pen in Bahrain ajsdjedjf

Then for the more complex edits... Not gonna lie, I draw a lot of inspiration from bigger fandoms, usually media-focused (TV show, film fandoms.) They obviously have an advantage over us with the quality and quantity of footage available to them, which lets them do really crazy, insanely creative things. So sometimes I'll pick up on trends that are popular across other fandoms - the colours, the typography, the blending - and try to bring that over to F1blr. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but it definitely pushes me to challenge myself and try things that I wouldn't normally do.

Other times it's just a quote or song lyric I saw somewhere that I figured would be cool to use. Then I try to use clips that convey the emotion/message behind that quote or lyric. This is still one of my favourite gifsets that I've made.

Oh, also, I find it helps to find some kind of focal point or "anchor" of sorts for a gifset. For example, I've watched probably hundreds of hours of F1 footage at this point, so I really like picking up on parallels across those clips and recurring themes and things like that. It helps you to focus on something specific - say, Seb interrupting Charles's interviews and Charles saying hello mate to him, or every time they reference a conversation they've had in private or something - and then you just need to find clips that meet that criteria. I'm kind of meh on DTS and the way the editing is kind of disingenuous and designed to create ~drama that seems believable if you weren't there to actually watch the season, BUT for us humble gifmakers on F1blr it can be a good source of footage and/or gifset ideas. Again, I find it helps to focus in on some aspect that will tie the gifset together and then build from there. For example, I made one gifset that showcases all of Seb and Charles's DTS appearances (together) and used a layout to make it look a bit more fun and visually interesting. I also like this one, playing on a similar concept.

And sometimes...I just like having a bit of fun asjdjf Even things like ao3 tags or TV Tropes or Tumblr tags or Tweets or whatever can be used for a more ~lighthearted/funny gifset.

I keep a list of potential gifset ideas on the notes app on my phone as well. Not all of my ideas are documented on there, but sometimes I just jot something down when I get a lightbulb moment of "oh, that could be a cool idea!" before I forget.

As for the actual creation process, it helps to know where your footage is/have some kind of organisation system. I definitely have a few go-to clips that I know are applicable in most gifsets, I know exactly where they are on my computer, I know I can colour them/tweak them relatively easily, etc. There's definitely a lot of trial and error involved ajsdj Sometimes you think a certain clip will work really, really well with your idea and then you just can't get it to work the way you imagined at all. I've had moments where I just DNF on a gifset because I get so frustrated that it's not working out the way I imagined. Sometimes I'll step back from a project, go back to it later with a different idea/angle and then find something that works for me even if it's not exactly like I'd imagined in the beginning.

[gandrewheadcannons]

I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.

Title: Undetermined

Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki

Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished

Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.

“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.

“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.

“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.

"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.

"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.

"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.

"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.

"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.

"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.

"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.

"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.

"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."

"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.

**

The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.

Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.

“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.

“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.

“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.

“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”

“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.

“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to

“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.

[gentlemancrow]

Ohh prompts! Maybe 21 and some shippy JonTim?

OK I know I agonized about this one but NO REALLY THANK YOU IT WAS GREAT <3! It was a GREAT exercise for writing in so many ways for me! Also I know the prompt "Maybe you should sit down" sort of implies getting bad news or something more than what popped into my brain, but this is what popped IMMEDIATELY into my brain so I went with it 83 Also again this is my first JonTim so be gentle with me uwu! Honestly it's my first time writing Tim in general for longer than one sentence so there's that too jfhlsajf XT Anyway enjoy!

Jon would have infinitely preferred to think of his bungled little excursion as a calculated risk that the whims of capricious probability had simply decided he had lost on that particular doomed occasion. What it truly was, however, was an infinitely predictable culmination of skipping his physio stretches for three mornings in a row, deciding a quick jaunt into the stacks to hunt for a statement to cross reference with the one he had been working on all morning did not, in fact, require the aid of his cane, and several cups of black tea on an empty stomach with their resultant caffeine jitters that had left him splayed and wobbling like a newborn fawn with one hand anchoring him in a vice grip to the handle of a file drawer. His bad leg ached in that special way it did that he knew all too well could be catastrophic if he moved it even slightly wrong, and set him back significantly on his physio progress. That oft repeated foible would also attract the ire and derision of literally every single person who knew him, never mind the physical therapists at the clinic, and he was very much not prepared to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lucky for him he wasn’t even supposed to be back at the institute in the first place, so no one would be looking for him, and he was reasonably assured that he would have plenty of time to figure out how to escape unscathed, or at least enough to hide a suspicious limp for a day or two. Unlucky for him, probability it seemed, also liked to double down.

“Alright there, boss man?”

Tim’s jovial voice echoed through the file cabinets like the worst song on the juke at the pub out of all of the hundreds of better selections just as Jon was preparing to gingerly move his spasmodic leg. He sighed and closed his eyes bitterly.

“Oh, yes, just fine, just dangling precariously from this file cabinet to try out a new stretch, it’s called the ‘mind your own business’,” he growled.

Tim chuckled, the echoes of it raising pinprick hackles of irritation on the back of Jon’s neck as he emerged from the shadows, hands on his hips and wry, crooked grin on his scarred face.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“And pray tell where, Timothy?” Jon snapped in a low growl.

Tim made a low whistle.

“Yikes! Busting out the -othy today? You must be in a bad way.”

“You think so? Whatever gave you that brilliant idea?” Jon drawled, rolling his eyes, “Are you going to stand there gawking and making me feel even more like an invalid or are you going to deign to render me aid?”

“I think I can spare a moment, just for you,” came the predictably smug retort, “What exactly would you like me to do?”

“I just need to sit a moment and massage it out, so fetching a chair from somewhere ought to suffice.”

Tim pondered the request as he strolled to Jon’s side, chewing his lower lip pensively.

“Well, I could do that for you, but seeing as you’re not actually supposed to be here yet I am a little concerned that dragging a chair randomly down to the archives would attract… unwanted attention? You know Martin would have a conniption.”

Sighing heavily, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Good point.”

“How about my lap then?” Tim continued without missing a beat.

Jon choked on his own tongue as the tips of his ears burned like cinders.

“TIM! Is this really, truly, and honestly the appropriate moment to be… making a pass at me?”

Unfazed, Tim pressed a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Jon, I’m wounded! Ordinarily I’d be deeply offended you’d think my flirting skills so inelegant and crass, but I was actually being sincere this time.”

A dark brow slid skeptically, pointedly up Jon’s forehead.

“Beg pardon, but how could that possibly have ever, in any situation, been construed as sincere?”

“Well, we’ve determined a chair is too risky, the floor isn’t going to do you any favors, and I know you won’t let me carry you back to your office, so I won’t even bother to ask, so where does that leave us, hmmm? Plus, if you recall, I had much the same physio you did, I know the massages and the stretches, I can have you patched up and out of here in no time,” Tim elaborated, counting off on his fingers.

Jon hated it when anyone other than him was making the most sense in the conversation, and he gnashed his teeth and growled his begrudging acquiescence.

“…Fine.”

“Brilliant. Alright to touch?” Tim asked brightly, hands hovering a respectful few inches from Jon’s hand and shoulders.

Eyes narrowing to smoldering brown slits, the last embers of a dying fire, Jon made him wait a few moments for the wordless nod of approval.

“Okay, just taking your hand there, my other hand’s got your other arm, and easy does it…”

With surprising finesse and gentleness, Tim took Jon’s hand and eased him onto the ground with him and into his lap, taking great care to keep his seized-up leg straight and comfortable. Jon melded against his assistant, looping his arms loosely around Tim’s waist while he tipped his head against his shoulder and let his twisted-up bones and sinew go slack against the radiantly warm aegis of him. His shirt was screamingly loud and his hair was freshly pink and he always smelled crisp and free and wild, like a sea breeze on a sun-soaked twilight. Jon liked the way he smelled, and the self-assured posture of his broad shoulders and the heartening solidness of a body meant to be shirtless as often as possible holding him so secure in the humming powerlines of his care. Just to be touched was a visceral melody of nerve endings and synapses, to be touched by him was a blinding symphony of electric light and sound perfectly in tune to the aria of his core where so few dared to go.

“Not so awful right?” Tim teased, squeezing his affected knee with care.

“Get on with it, Stoker,” Jon murmured languidly into the crook of his neck.

“Ohoh, last name now. I’m on real thin ice, aren’t I?” he chortled in reply, pads of his fingers feeling out the ridge of a patella and skating down his calf.

Jon winced, opening one eye to glance guiltily up at the ever-chipper mien of Tim.

“I-“ he stuttered, his protest melting into a sigh, “No, you’re not. I’m sorry. You’re being helpful and I’m being an ass.”

“Mmm, that’s a smidge hyperbolic. You’re being snappish because you got caught being naughty, and you’re in pain, and you also got caught being in pain, which is probably the worst offense out of all of them.”

“I suppose…” Jon conceded, closing his eye and letting his body go slack again.

“Okay to roll your cuff up? Or would you prefer trouser leg down?”

“You can roll it up, I don’t mind.”

Tim promptly, neatly, folded the cuff of Jon’s trousers up only to just above the knee, baring the cratered mares of his leg. His fingers felt them out, felt the places where the worms bored holes in him that had forgotten which way to mend and pulled and tugged in a confused riot of fibrous muscle and scar tissue, and rolled through them with slow, deliberate tenderness. Jon hissed softly in pain, but Tim’s fingers knew the weft and trail of his muscles, and he squeezed and massaged and tilled them with expert care. Unhurriedly, painstakingly, Jon’s knee unlocked, and it bowed gratefully outward with the sigh of relief into a Hawaiian print collar.

“You’re allowed to hurt you know,” Tim whispered at length, fingers just stroking idly now.

“Everyone’s allowed to hurt,” Jon replied automatically, “It’s only that those of us who can bear it have the duty to do so for those who can’t.”

Tim chewed his lip in the wake of that, weighing his feelings against his words carefully.

“And what god decides who is who?”

Only silence from the clinging, boneless and wounded creature in his lap.

“I’m just saying. I was right there with you, the same thing happened to me, so maybe share a little of this one, hmm?” he tried again, nudging at Jon’s temple with the tip of his nose, letting the silvered chestnut hairs tickle.

The strings of Jon’s body wound taut again around Tim’s fingers still tracing blind patterns on his shin, and he glanced up, daring to ensnare his irises only for a moment.

“I’ll try.”

A soft, breathless laugh whisked past Tim’s lips as he shook his head fondly.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get out of the high and mighty head archivist,” he huffed, “But I’ll take it. Now, where can I kiss it all better for you?”

It took Jon a full cycle of pouting, scowling, and digging vengeful fingers into Tim’s back before he could conjure an answer.

“Forehead, please.”

“You got it.”

Jon ducked his head to receive Tim’s lips pressed against his creased brow, and while he knew he bore a burden too great to be carried away with velvet kisses and frank words, for a moment at least he could feel just a bit lighter.

[diary-of-an-onliner]

feet on the ground [f.w.]

word count: 3381

warnings: none

a/n: this is based on, and a counterpart/continuation of @ickle-ronniekins 's head in the clouds — thanks for the inspo babe, this one is for you

Fred Weasley was not happy. Sure, he had made a lot of questionable, or as other people like to say 'bad', decisions in his life, but taking Care of Magical Creatures was one of the worst. Yes, it made Hagrid ecstatic, and that's always a good thing to see; yes, it's useful for his future business. However a hellfire-cracken the size of a shoebox was making him rethink his choices.

For the lack of a better distraction, he focused on digging a hole in the grass with his trainer as Hagrid’s rumbled instructiones flew over his head, missing both ears and zooming away into an indifferent oblivion. George is taking this already, he looked to George, who was quite enchanted with his partner, and thoroughly enjoying it, couldn't we have split up? He kicked the dirt lightly, startling the girl next to him.

Neither Fred nor his Slytherin partner were thrilled with each other,but misery loves company, so it might be for the best.

"How's the weather up there?" said his partner, who was crouching eye — er, shell-level, with the creature, but keeping her distance nonetheless. Her hair waved and flickered on her shoulder as she bounced on her heels.

"Immaculate, thanks for asking." he said, not wanting to get closer to the scorpion-lobster lovechild from the asshole of hell. "Y'know Hagrid said those things burn, bite, and sting, right?"

"So do I.” she said sarcastically, still keeping her gaze tied to the monster. “I'm not going to touch it, I'm just looking. You're aware we need to sketch it, label its parts and write an essay about it later?" Fred shifted his weight from foot to foot restlessly.

"Yes." his nostrils flared.

She pursed her lips and, after a moment of silence, said: "I dare you to touch it."

He crossed his arms. "I am not taking dares from you. We met three minutes ago and I haven't enjoyed a second of it."

"What's up your ass?" she turned to him, still crouching. "Actually, I don't care. Just don't take it out on me." The creature clicked their — tail? — pincers? — their something.

"I wasn't—" she raised an eyebrow and he fell silent, and looked away.

"'m not very thrilled to be here." he mumbled. "And that ugly death trap isn't making it better. Can we start over?" he asked, sighing and tiredly sweeping his left hand through his hair, and offering his right to her.

She took it and pulled herself up, then promptly smoothed out her skirt, shook his still proffered hand, and introduced herself.

Unlike his messy untucked shirt, her uniform was pressed down to the socks and her shoes held no traces of mud. It gave her a calculating, and slightly cold aura, as if she was drawn with a set of rulers and a compass. She was probably more geometrical than anyone who had ever taken Care of Magical Creatures.

"Fred." he said, even though she knew.

"Well Fred, we will be working together on this Blast-Ended Skrewt for the next few weeks, so that 'ugly death trap’ is our son you're talking about." she chided with a smile that better belonged on a sly fox rather than a girl.

"You sound very attached to it." he shot back. An idea, a thought, a silver of a notion that this might be fun slithered along the floor of his skull.

"Him.” She corrected with her pointer finger in the air. “And it's called being a good parent." she lightly jabbed him in the chest.

"Okay then. Go pet your son." Fred smirked.

They turned toward the beast which was playing in the grass like a puppy. It seemed to be wiggling its tails.

Her eyes narrowed: "Which part is the head?"

"I don't know. We should probably figure it out, since the other side shoots flames." he said in an amused tone.

"It's supposed to be a sucker, so it might be the penis-looking side." he chuckled, but when she turned to stare at him expectantly, his red eyebrow jumped in question. A breeze ruffled their hair.

"Go on then, don't be shy, we need to compare." she said flatly.

He burst out laughing so hard, a few people around them turned to stare - quite a dangerous thing to do at the moment seeing as some of the beasts started snipping. A yelp sounded from afar, and Fred laughed even harder.

At least his partner is funny.

"Seriously though, this thing is going to fire-fart on us soon and we need to figure it out."

“You don’t feel better in nature?” her tone piqued as she turned the pages of a book. Their desk was covered with them, during the first of their many study meetings.

“No.” Fred played with his quill, spinning it through his fingers. “You do?”

“I feel clearer, especially near water.”, thump, she shut her book and discarded it.

“How come?” he balanced on the back legs of his chair, eyes darting around.

“I don’t know. It’s not a thing I question.”, flip, flip, flip, “It just lures me out of my head, and makes me feel a little more real, like I’m aware of my own existence. Sharper, yknow?”

Fred shook his head.

“I don’t have a need to get out of my head, it’s great in there.” he joked. She snorted and passed him a book with a piece of paper sticking out.

“Don’t you? You seem to be in there a lot though. I think you think too much.” Fred chukled, “That’s something I've never been told.”

“Then it’s about time.” she threw his way, but she had yet to look at him, Fred noted. The idea of her as geometrical played around in his head. “Try it next time. People exist a little sharper sometimes. It stops you from feeling like you’re going to float away.” her eyes finally flickered to him like two needles of her compasses, and shot him down. His chair hit the ground.

Before Fred had a chance to say something else or roll her idea around in his brain, she passed him a piece of parchment with a soft order to, “Write.”

His diagram of their unnamed child was much neater than hers, but his illegible handwriting distracted from it perfectly.

"That is not a t."she said, her hair almost electrified from stress-combing it with her hands.

"It's obviously a g." he chirped, but his tone sounded worn down all the same. She squinted at the paper with her mouth open for a moment, then gave up.

"How are you still this peppy?" she asked as her gaze lazily rolled itself away from the books. His tie was completely undone and being used as a bookmark, his shirt unbuttoned and ruffled like his hair, ha, carrot head!, but he took no note of it as he balanced on the back legs of his chair again. Every so often, a clank would sound amid their conversation when the chair struck against the stone floor and his feet hit the ground, before he leaned back again.

"What are you talking about? I'm knackered." he yawned.

She looked up, and her thoughts leaked out of her head. The scenery through the window behind him was gorgeous, lit on fire by the dusk— oversaturated reds and pinks which lined the dark purple clouds.

With a loud tap on the library floor, the front legs of Fred's chair touched the ground and his head covered the sun perfectly, giving him a golden lining and making his orange hair melt into the background. The clear lines of his face looked almost chiseled in contrast to the haziness behind him.

A weight settled in the center of her torso, an iron bowling ball rolling between her stomach and her heart. He was handsome. She knew this. But she used to know it the way one knows they should drink water when they’re thirsty. Knowing you needed it after you drink him in, swallow, and sign, is another story.

She felt a warm metal line grow out of her chest, like a vine towards the sunlight, enter his chest and settle.

For a few moments she imagined it. She tried to note the dragging sensation of warm iron and let herself be pulled to him. She imagined the ball rolling in his center, and all his squirming being in an attempt to adjust it instead of just staying awake.

Then she blinked. Took in the real scene. Despite being exhausted, she felt tranquil in their little corner filled with books and a few very ugly sketches. She picked one up.

“Are we allowed to call his head a dick?” She questioned, but Fred just yawned and shrugged. His chair tipped back again.

“You’ll hurt yourself.” She said flatly, words moving from line to line like trains with the shittiest track designs ever.

“The thrill keeps me awake.” he closed his eyes, hair still a burning red. She didn’t dare look at the Sun for too long. Her eyes tried to follow the words. The ball rolled.

He slid another sketch towards her. “I think we should use this one.”

She put the first one aside, their hands brushing as she took the new parchment. She heard the scraping of his chair on the floor as he moved closer until his collarbone pressed against her shoulder as he leaned over to point. The body heat he was emitting only reminded her of the weariness her body carried. It also refashioned her bowling ball into an anchor slowly sinking through her stomach, tickling her insides on the way down.

The sketch was neater and much simpler than others, no more than a handful of black lines on a yellowing parchment.

“This part is the head.” Fred pointed out. “I think. It looks weird and there isn’t exactly a good reference for a randomly cross-bred demon.” He seemed so focused on his drawing that she got the feeling he was avoiding her eyes intentionally. Stupid, really. They’re both just tired and have a lot of work.

Look at me.

He didn’t.

She banished all her stupid silly thoughts, and tried to turn to the books for the next few hours.

Fred stayed circling warmly on the edge of her orbit, moving around her but never looking, never acknowledging her as anything other than a voice and a pair of friendly working hands. The silly stupid thread she felt earlier vibrated. She didn't bring it up for fear they wouldn't finish all their work if she were to derail the conversation, so she waited until the end of their study session.

However, when the anticipated end neared, his chair hit the stone the last time and when she turned to him, Fred was lying on his arms on the table, asleep. His outline was as bright and as sharp as ever, but his face was soft and smooth from relaxation, like a marble statue melting. The anchor in her stomach lurch up at the sight, but she swallowed it down, smiled, and laid her head on the table too.

Another sunny afternoon had George almost skipping to his quirky partner. And Fred was glad, he liked to see his brother happy and loved teasing him for being in love even more — but he still hated the bloody beasts. He was thankful for George's efforts to cheer him up, but Fred refused to move out from under his personal gloomy cloud, choosing to carry it alone instead, the way one would an umbrella.

As soon as George mentions his partner, he knows it's time to leave him to his beloved, as he does, with minimal mocking involved (—but come on!).

As Fred approached her, he saw her roll her eyes. Funny. Something about knowing she's as un-excited as he is made his chest swell up with what can only be described as the sudden understanding of the real depth of companionship between you and a stranger, an acquaintance, a friend. I might not like this, but I am not alone.

"They're four feet long already. Your future sister-in-law," said his partner, gesturing to George's love with her head, at which Fred smiled warmly, "said we only get to work with them for another class. I think she might cry." His clouds stopped thundering.

"Don't be rude." he replied but did not sound angry in the least.

"I'm not. She's a nice girl and God bless her for being passionate about this. We need people like her, otherwise the rest of us would have to care as well." she reasoned.

"There's that warm and welcoming Slytherin care I've heard all about." he said sarcastically.

"Rude. Gingers truly are soulless." Fred got nudged in the ribs.

"Oi!"

"Oi yourself!" she flipped her hair and flashed her foxy smile. No, it's fox-like. "Don't start things you can't finish."

"Well, I'm ready to be done with this thing." he looked pointedly at the snapping creature reaching out to them like a baby in a cot.

They received their instructions from Hagrid to feed, entertain, and check the health of the creature and set off to work. After a few minutes of silence, Fred spoke.

"I think there's something wrong with this thing." he squinted.

"Him." She corrected, "He's our son."

"Well I think our son is pregnant." Fred’s face soured.

“No way." she replied, kneeling closer to the beast than she'd ever dared before. "How do you know?"

"A hunch?" Fred shrugged his very nicely shaped shoulders. No! "I'm not sure. It did eat three times as much as the others. It should be a lot fatter."

"He." She absent-mindedly corrected, trying to get a good enough look.

"He doesn't look sick but he's being weird." he squatted next to her, bouncing on his heels.

"Maybe he's lonely. We both ditched a few times." She bumped her knee into his. "I dare you to touch him."

Fred laughed as he turned to her. "I'm not that commited of a father. You do it."

"Why me? You need to do something too!" she whined as their son approached in a rather puppy-like gait, as if he was going to rub against their legs, and Fred's gaze slipped off her, like that day in the library.

"I'll do whatever you want.” he paused "Within reason, of course."

"Touch him."

"Within reason."

"Fine." their dark-shelled son stood before them now, but they were not as hesitant this time. The beast looked at Fred with either his head or his stinger (how is it still not clear?).

Slowly and shakily, her hand reached out. She almost withdrew it, but it already made contact with their son's back and he made a sound similar to purring, which was both surprising and unsettling. Her face bent in disgust as her entire palm pressed against his black shell, gleaming maroon in the sunlight.

"Ew. He's slimy." she detached her hand to see a catran-like substance coating it. "How is he slimy?"

Fred's nose was scrunched as well but an amused gleam flickered on his face nonetheless. “Disgusting.”

"Well, I did it." she complained, trying to wipe her hand on his arm, but he rose to his feet quickly, laughing.

“Keep that to yourself.” Fred warned, trying to avoid her swift attempts to use him as a rag.

“Come on!” She whined. “We’re in this together. If I have to be gross then so do you.” she jumped up after Fred.

He felt weightless as he maneuvered around her and the clawing beast that still purred by their feet, and he realized how warm the sunlight was. His little cloud was gone. In that distracted second of their impromptu three-creature quickstep, she wrapped her clean hand around his hand and pulled herself closer to him.

She grinned from ear to ear, and Fred felt her wet, cold hand sliding down his shoulder. She wiped a few times down his arm and chest with a wickedly satisfied look in her face as he wondered why he didn’t mind it so much. His eyes danced over her face the way his trainers had over the grass mere seconds ago.

“What?” she asked. Wait, she was speaking.

“Um, nothing.” his face rearranged itself from a goofy smile (What?) and he looked at his stained shirt. Before he even had time to comment, her voice made the center of his stomach tighten.

“Do you think he'd lick one if she asked?” Fred followed her gaze to George, looking as dreamy as his partner who was purring back at their Blast-Ended Skrewt. Sunlight covered them too.

Her hand still held onto him.

Fred sighed, both amused and lightheaded from a new discovery threatening to unveil its face in his mind. George laughed so loudly it reached Fred’s ears, and he responded, “Yes.”

“Would you lick one for me?” she batted her eyelashes.

“Absolutely not.” he said without missing a beat.

“What kind of a father won't even lick his own son?” she put a hand on her chest, faux-horrified.

“I still think our son is pregnant.” he said, grinning at her.

“What kind of a father won't lick his own pregnant son?” she humored.

“You're making this worse than it has to be.”

Her eyebrow rose as she offered: “You can always do this alone?”

“No.” something ugly and covered in spikes spun in Fred's stomach.

“Well then,” she said smugly, as if she knew, “you need to start cooperating.” She tugged on his arm with her hand that was there the whole time. Her arm slid around his as she pulled him along, and Fred adjusted his collar with his fingers. When did they get so far away from the group?

“You don’t pet him, you don’t groom him with your tongue like a cat, what do you do? I haven’t seen you change a single diaper!” she over-exaggerated. “I’m basically a single mother!”

He laughed and apologized, feeling lighter and sharper than he had all day.

His future sister-in-law was wrong. They worked on their loving, puppy-like hell scorpions for three more classes, and had another one in a classroom, correcting their essays. During that class, they found out that their son really was pregnant, at which they laughed all the way to the Great Hall.

Fred felt something heavy rolling over his intestines when he thought of the end. It wound itself around his organs until his lips dropped. Nevertheless, he grinned at George (who definitely saw through him), and, with his chin up like a proud lion, departed from him to sit next to his partner, one last time.

He thought about her more often than he expected to, and he feared he might have to stop soon.

As he slid next to her, his metaphorical tail curled closer to him. She beamed brightly at him, and offered her closed fist.

“You ready, partner?”

No, he curled his fingers with a smile, I don’t think I am, and bumped their hands together.

“Doesn’t have to end? Didn't you listen?” she asked him incredulously as he caught up with her. He couldn’t say he has, as his ears buzzed deafeningly loudly since they received their O.

Maybe she had a point when she said there were moments when people felt more defined as he was more sure than ever that he existed in the corridor leading to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom, as his limbs filled with lead at the way she spoke.

“I just thought if you—” his mouth shit on its own. “You know—”

“Holy shit, you really didn’t listen?” but this time she laughed. “Hagrid said we can pick our own partners for the next project.” Her arm curled around his own, “So unless you want to dump me, we march on.”

Whatever heavy thing has been making his stomach a winter home the past week flew off to their summer residence.

She definitely had a point about grounded moments, because when her hand squeezed his arm, the lead leaked out and the awareness of every part of his body slammed into focus.

And Fred smiled back.

She smiled promisingly at him, his heart stuttered, and his sneakers sunk into the stone beneath him.

[suggiebabe]

Red Feather

A/N: Hey guys....... I know I said I wouldn’t post anything today, BUT HAWKS HAS BEEN AT THE BACK OF MT MIND FOR SOOOO LONG I JUST HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR HIM! Tytytytyty SO MUCH to the cutie who is @domhoni​ for coming up with this idea uwu, if it weren’t for u, this would just be a complete mess LOL! Enjoy!

Summary: Soulmate AU where when you’re 18 your world starts randomly dull in color until you come in contact with your soulmate. If you haven’t found them by age 30, your world would be permanently colorless. Your world was bland, barely any color left as you turned 24. When an earthquake struck causing your building to collapse, the only think you could see before you blacked out was a bright red feather.

Pairing: Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Depression, thoughts of dying, needles (hospital), angst(???) with a happy ending

It was believed that when you were 18, your world would randomly start to lose its colors if you didn’t come into contact with your soulmate. One by one, the colors would fade. Reds would turn into pinks then to whites, green to mint then to white, orange to marigold then to white, your whole would would be as white as a winter wonderland if you failed to find your soulmate by the age of 30. This thought haunted you for your entire life. You couldn’t imagine seeing the world without color. You loved looking up at the bright blue sky, the yellow sunflowers in your backyard, and even just staring at the black screen on your phone. Colors made life worth living for you, and one day they could all just disappear? Just because you couldn’t find one person? You absolutely hated it.

It was your graduation day, and you were excited yet terrified for what your future life would bring to you. Luckily for you, your friends were able to distract you from the thought of having to find your soulmate. After the ceremony, you and your family got together, and they started to congratulate you on your success. Your mother handed you a bouquet of roses. “Here you go (Y/N)! It was hard to find them, but I just had to get you your favorite flower! Red roses! Aren’t they so pretty?” she asked excitedly. 

You stared down at the flowers, your smile slowly disappearing. The flowers were pink. 

🌹

Nothing was the same anymore, each year colors started to fade, your soulmate nowhere to be seen. It had been 6 years since you started to lose color. Beautiful yellows becoming pale, purples turning lilac, your world becoming pastel. Your life had become boring. The pain of losing color becoming so overbearing, you barely had any motivation to do anything anymore.

College went by quicker than expected. You slowly started losing connections with your friends. Working in a boring office job didn’t help with your depressed emotions either. Everyday was so painful, nothing looking lively anymore, what was the point of even moving forward? 

You were 24 now. 6 years left for you to find your soulmate. Everyone in your town knew each other because it wasn’t very populated, meaning if you hadn’t already found your soulmate, you probably weren’t going to. You begrudgingly accepted your fate.

🌹 

Every year the Pro Heroes scheduled a tour around Japan, trying to meet as many of their fans as possible. Today was the day they were scheduled to come to your small town, and when you heard from the news anchor on TV say they arrived safely, you couldn’t care less. To you they were way too overrated. Everyone loved them but you couldn’t understand why, all they did was tie up bad guys, ANYONE could do that. You finished eating your white pancakes and headed off to the same boring office job you went to everyday. 

As you sat down at your desk, you couldn’t help but notice that today felt odd. There was a weird feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake off. At first you tried to play it off as some bad breakfast, but that just didn’t seem to be the case. 

Your gut was correct, because as you logged on to your computer, you felt the building start to shake. Everyone in the office had started to freak out and start to leave the room, but you couldn’t get yourself to move from your chair. You sat there at the computer questioning if you should move, of if you should let this building crush you. 

The walls around you started to collapse, and dust filled the air, making it hard to breath. You were having a battle within yourself. You wanted to get up, but what was the point of living such a boring life? Your vision slowly started to turn hazy, and you thought that was it. You were going to die. Regret instantly filling your thoughts. 

As your vision was going black, you felt yourself being lifted by someone. You tried to see who it was, but when you looked up the only thing you saw before you blacked out was a red feather.

🌹 

You had been in a coma for the past week, your body had taken damage from all the dust you had inhaled, so the doctors thought it would be best. When you woke up you stared at the ceiling in front of you. You felt needles in your arms and a ventilator over your nose, but that didn’t matter. You were in shock because the room around you had bright blue walls and there was a colorful “Get Well Soon!” balloon floating around near the window. You could see color again. 

You saw something next to you move out of the corner of your eye, and when you looked over, you saw a man with messy yellow hair stretch out his large wings. He rubbed his eyes and looked at you, and that’s when his bright yellow eyes widened. He scooted his chair closer to your bed, and held your hand in his calloused one.

“When did you wake up?” he asked, looking straight into your eyes. You blushed a bit at the staring, but muttered out a soft, “just a little while ago...” “And you didn’t wake me?” he pouted. Your eyebrows furrowed barely realizing that you didn’t really know who this man was. “Who even are you?...” you asked weakly. “My name is Takami Keigo, and I’m your soulmate.” Your eyed widened at the word “Soulmate.”

“You’re my soulmate? Are you sure?..” you asked, still not fully believing him. “I am 100% sure, kid. My life was full of color as soon as I picked you up in that building.” he said trying to convince you. “Y-you saved me? But the person who saved me had re-” you halted your words as you looked at his wings, “red feathers...” you reached out to touch them, they were soft. “Takami... we’re soulmates..” you said quietly stroking the bright red feathers. “It’s Keigo for you, kid” he smiled at you and took your hand in his again, lightly squeezing it. “Thank you, Keigo.” You said testing out the foreign name on your tongue, lightly squeezing his hand back. He kissed your forehead as if you were made of fragile glass. 

“I love you, (Y/N)” he said softly. “I love you too, Keigo.”

Another A/N: GUYS I DID IT!!! I HOPE I DID THIS IDEA JUSTICE!!! THIS IS MY FIRST SUPER LONG FIC AND I AM SOOOO HAPPY WITH IT AGAHAHAG Hawks is so cool >:(

[dr-ethan-ramseyy]

Never Stop

Pairing: Jonathan Hayes x f!reader

Word Count: 3.57K

Warnings: implied sex, pregnancy

Summary: some snapshots of a future with our boy Jonathan 

✨ Find the prequel here. ✨

(The title comes from “Never Stop” by SafetySuit, in case anyone is wondering. That song is the sweetest thing ever and it reminds me of him)

Nearly six months after Jonathan and I had decided to start looking for a place to move in together in Maine, we were pulling up to our new house. Our. HOUSE. 

Jonathan turned to me with a huge smile on his face and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. 

“I can’t believe we’re really here,” he breathed, his eyes trailing over my face. 

“I can’t believe it’s really ours,” I smiled. 

He leaned across the center console, kissing me sweetly before getting out of the car and rounding to my side to open my door for me. Before I could react, he had lifted me into his arms, carrying me bridal style to the front door. 

“Jonathan!” I laughed. 

“What? This is a big day for us! You know I like to be a romantic from time to time.”

 I couldn’t help but laugh again as he set me down momentarily on the porch to fish the key out of his pocket, opened the door, then picked me up again before walking into the empty house. 

It was just a small starter home, the most we could afford, and really, all we needed. Jonathan kissed me and slowly set me on my feet. The kiss started out sweet but quickly turned heated. He backed me up against the wall, then moved his hands around to grip my backside. 

“Jump,” he grunted between kisses. 

I jumped, and he pinned me to the wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist. 

“I think,” he said, his breath heavy, “we should make use of every single one of these rooms before the movers get here.”

I raised my eyebrow. “That’s quite the tall order.”

“I’m up to the challenge, baby,” he winked before surging forward to kiss me again. 

“Then I’m up for it, too,” I moaned. 

“We need to get started then,” he teased, moving to lift up my shirt. 

~~~

“Hey sweetheart,”Jonathan called as he came through the door one afternoon, slinging his backpack off his shoulders. 

“Hey!” I smiled, looking up from my spot on the couch. “How was class?”

He shrugged, flopping down on the couch next to me and pulling me into his arms. He kissed the top of my head before answering, “Fine. I have to make up some building designs for next week, which I’m excited about.” 

“I’m so proud of you,” I said, leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder. “And I’m so glad you’re enjoying your architecture classes.”

“That means so much to me, thank you, Y/N,” he grinned, kissing me. “I’d much rather hang out with you all day than go to class though.”

“Well, obviously,” I laughed. 

“You know what? We should do something fun today.”

“Like what?”

“We haven’t gone out on the boat in a while.”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “You do love the boat.”

“I love what you and I get up to on the boat,” he murmured in my ear, making me shiver.

“Well…” I pretended to think about it, drawing it out to tease him. “I am off today. And you’re done with class for the day…”

“And you look really sexy in your bathing suit,” he said quietly, slowly inching his face closer to mine, his eyes trained on my lips. 

“Hmm. So do you.” 

“Mmhmm. Say yes, baby.”

I decided I had tortured him enough. “Yes,” I said. 

He grinned, moving forward to pin me under him on the couch. He kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing mine. 

“Are you sure we’ll make it to the boat?” I asked after he pulled back for a moment to catch his breath.

He tangled his hands in my hair and grinned. “What’s the rush? We’ll get there eventually.”

It took a while, but we eventually did make it out to the boat. Jonathan and I were in our bathing suits, and he pulled me to sit on his lap as he drove us around the waters that he knew so well and that I was growing so accustomed to. 

I leaned back against his bare chest, reveling in the feeling of the sun against my skin. Jonathan ran his fingers back and forth slowly over my bare thigh. 

After a bit of wandering the waters, Jonathan put the anchor down, and we laid on the boat, looking up at the blue sky, feeling like we were the only two people in the world. 

Jonathan rolled on top of me, bracing himself on his forearms so he didn’t crush me. He gazed into my eyes intently with a small smile on his face, running his thumb along my cheekbone gently. 

“What is it?” I asked.

“Hmm?” he hummed absentmindedly, still tracing my face.

“You’re looking at me weird. What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not looking at you weird,” he said quietly, dipping his head down to brush featherlight kisses across my cheeks. 

I giggled, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes, you were. Tell me what you were thinking,” I teased.

He sighed theatrically, lifting his head to look at me again. “I was thinking,” he brushed a lock of hair away from my face, “that I love when it’s just the two of us…” he trailed off, his eyes fixed on mine.

“But?”

“But…” He smiled, a small, almost shy smile, “it might be nice to add to our family a little.”

“What did you have in mind?” I raised my eyebrow. 

“I may have been looking around at some of the local shelters… they have quite a few dogs looking for homes,” he said, sounding hopeful. 

“You want to get a dog? You think we’re ready for that?”

“Well,” he sat up, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “Not if you don’t think we are. It’s just, we have a house, and I’m not leaving all the time anymore, and you love dogs-”

“I love dogs,” I cut in, excitedly. “And I love you,” I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I definitely want to give a dog a home, if you do.”

His whole face lit up and he hugged me closer. “I’m so glad you do.”

~~~

I should have known I would cry at the shelter. 

Jonathan and I had decided to swing by after he got out of class to look at the dogs they had. We walked along, his arm around my waist. 

And then I locked eyes with a little brown and white mutt with floppy ears and the biggest puppy eyes I had ever seen and I broke down crying. 

Jonathan looked at me, concerned but not surprised. “Should I ask if we can meet that one?”

I nodded, and he squeezed my arm affectionately before going off to find an employee to help us. 

I dropped to my knees, not taking my eyes off the dog until Jonathan came back. The employee let the dog out and he ran right to us, excitedly wagging his tail. 

“I think we were meant to be,” I said, scratching behind the dog’s ear. 

“Kinda like us,” Jonathan grinned, petting the dog, too. 

And that was that. We brought Wally home with us and we were a family. 

Jonathan and I took Wally to the park, we went on walks, we hung out in the backyard. It was perfect. 

~~~

Jonathan swore under his breath as he closed the door behind him, shaking snow out of his hair and stomping the excess snow off his boots before putting the wood he had grabbed from outside in our fireplace. 

“I thought our first winter here together would be a little more magical, but so far it’s just cold,” he joked as he got the fire going. 

Wally watched him intently, as he often did. The two of them were the best of friends; Wally followed Jonathan around everywhere. I would be jealous if it wasn’t so cute. I couldn’t blame him, really. Who wouldn’t be obsessed with Jonathan?

“I don’t know, I think it’s kind of magical,” I smiled. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all I need.”

Jonathan grinned at me over his shoulder. Once he got the fire going, he went back to the front door, kicked his boots off onto the mat, wiped up some of the water that he had trekked into the house, and finally settled in next to me, draping our favorite blanket across our laps and pulling me into his side, resting his cheek against the top of my head. 

“You’ve made a good point, as always, baby. I can’t believe we’ve had our own house for half a year,” Jonathan said, running his hand up and down my arm soothingly. 

“We’re really nailing this home ownership thing,” I laughed. 

To my delight, Jonathan laughed too, kissing the top of my head before saying, “You want to watch a Christmas movie?”

“It seems like the perfect night for it,” I smiled.

Jonathan picked up the remote, scrolling through our several streaming services until he found my favorite Christmas movie and played it. 

We cuddled there under the blanket and watched the movie, Wally settled in on Jonathan’s other side. Occasionally Jonathan would lose interest in the plot and pull me on top of him, kissing me until I was breathless.

“Jonathan,” I groaned into his mouth one such time.

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, pulling away and shifting so I could rest my head on his shoulder, his arm draped around me. “I’ll let you get back to your movie.”

Once the movie ended, he looked at me, raising an eyebrow mischievously. 

“Oh no, what does that face mean?”

He laughed, kissed my forehead, and stood up, grinning at me. “I have an idea. Wait here, sweetheart.”

Turning on his heel, he disappeared into our bedroom for a moment, then came back, smiling. 

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he said, walking over to our stereo and putting on a Christmas song. A slow instrumental. 

I smiled. 

Jonathan walked towards me slowly, his hand outstretched. “You remember this one, baby?”

Standing up with a small smile, I placed my hand in his. “It’s the same one from your parents’ house. When we talked about moving out here.”

He pulled me close, and we swayed back and forth. “That’s when you randomly started crying and scared me half to death,” he joked, gazing down at me lovingly. 

I rolled my eyes. “I know. That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s one of my favorite memories, actually,” he said gently. He was leading us in small circles around the living room, careful not to trip over Wally who was curiously watching us, right at our heels. 

“It is?”

“Of course. That was a big moment for us.”

I gazed up at him, and he leaned down to kiss me sweetly. “I want to make so many more memories with you,” he murmured, his lips barely an inch from mine. 

He pulled back then, and took both of my hands in his, his eyes lit up with joy and love. “I love you so much, Y/N. I know you know that, but I never get tired of saying it. I want to keep saying it to you every day for the rest of our lives.”

He took a deep breath, glancing down at the ground before looking into my eyes again. “I love everything about you. So, I was wondering…”

My breath hitched in my throat. Was he doing what I thought he was?

“Every day I think about how lucky I am that we matched on that app all that time ago. I’m even more lucky that you waited for me. That you love me back. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, sweetheart.”

Jonathan shot me a small smile before dropping down to one knee, still holding onto one of my hands, but letting go of the other to pull a small box out of his pocket. He looked up into my eyes with the most hopeful expression I’ve ever seen. He opened the box as he said, “Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

Tears burst into my eyes even though by that point, I knew it was coming. “Yes!” I practically yelled.

“Oh, thank god,” he laughed gleefully, standing up and reaching for me, lifting me up and spinning me around in a circle. 

He set me down after a moment, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me with so much passion, my knees felt weak. 

Finally, we pulled back and he slipped the ring onto my finger. It was perfect. Everything I’d ever wanted. 

We both looked at it for a moment, and then we looked at each other, just smiling because there was too much joy to put into words. 

~~~

I felt all eyes on me as I slowly walked down the aisle, but all I could see was Jonathan. He looked good-- wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that he had picked out. His eyes were shining as they locked on mine; it looked like he was close to crying. It took all of my willpower not to run to him. 

Looking into Jonathan’s eyes as I got closer, I thought back to the night that he proposed, before the whirlwind of wedding planning.

“I was going to wait until I had a plan,” he whispered as he held me in bed, lightly brushing my hair off my face as he gazed at me. “I was going to plan it all out but… then we were there and I was holding you and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I love you. I was just so happy, and I had the ring and… I couldn’t wait.” he smiled sheepishly. 

“It was perfect,” I whispered back, leaning forward slightly to kiss him. 

And all the months leading up to the wedding had been perfect, too, though nobody could believe it. We worked well together, Jonathan and I. Sure, there were little disputes but we figured them all out together. 

I finally made it up to Jonathan, who really looked like he might cry now. He smiled at me in awe as I stood in front of him. 

The officiant started the ceremony and Jonathan kept his eyes on me the whole time. “I love you,” he mouthed.

I grinned and mouthed it back.

The rings were exchanged. We said “I do.” Then it was time to kiss.

Jonathan wrapped me up in his arms as soon as the words left the officiant’s mouth. He kissed me passionately, lifting me up off the ground. 

The two of us were together for most of the night, taking up the dance floor with every slow song. Even after endless pictures, we couldn’t stop smiling. 

As the night was winding down and guests were starting to leave, Jonathan wrapped his arms around me, leaning down so his lips were touching my ear as he murmured, “Did you have a good night, sweetheart?”

“I had the best night,” I said, looking up into his eyes. “We’re married.”

His eyes lit up. “We are absolutely married,” he said before kissing me slowly, like we had our whole lives to do it. 

~~~

I sighed, cutting up vegetables for dinner that night. Frankly, I hated when it was my turn to make dinner these days. Everything was just so tiring. But, Jonathan was doing a lot more around the house when he wasn’t working late, which was always so appreciated. He always was doing so much for me, but it had really increased in the last few months. He was sweeter than ever, really. 

I heard the front door open and couldn’t help smiling. It was my favorite time of day, when we could both finally come home and be together.

“How are my two favorite people doing this evening?” Jonathan asked, coming up behind me and placing his hands on my ever-growing belly. 

“Mm. I’m okay. Baby’s feeling rambunctious, I think.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jonathan kissed my cheek. “What’s he doing?”

“She has been kicking me constantly for the past hour and a half.”

As if on cue, I felt another kick. Jonathan chuckled, feeling it, too. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I know it’s uncomfortable for you, but I have to admit, it excites me every time.”

“It is exciting that she’s growing and healthy but,” I sighed. “It’s exhausting being kicked from the inside all the time.”

Jonathan moved to stand next to me, gently nudging me away from the cutting board, gingerly taking the knife out of my hand. “I’ll take over, you go lay down.”

“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to complain. It’s my turn for dinner duty.”

He set the knife down on the counter and turned to me, rubbing my upper arms affectionately. “Baby, you’re growing a human and working full time. You have a right to complain about how tired you are.” He gently kissed my forehead and made a “shoo” motion with his hand. “Go, take care of yourself and our little boy.” 

I laughed, doing what he said. Jonathan and I had been arguing about whether the baby would be a boy or a girl since we found out I was pregnant. Really, neither of us cared what the sex was, and gender is just a construct anyway, but it had turned into a goofy game we played with each other frequently. 

Wally came up and snuggled with me as I watched Jonathan expertly move around our kitchen. He told me about his day, all about how he loves working with architecture. I grinned. I was so proud of him for doing what he wanted to do, and so thankful that he would be here and safe with our family from now on. 

Jonathan helped me off the couch when dinner was ready (even though I’ve told him several times it wasn’t really necessary), and we laughed and talked all the way through the night.

“I’m so excited to be a dad,” he murmured as we were getting ready for bed that night, pressing a light kiss to my stomach. 

“You’re going to be the best dad,” I said, running my hands through his hair as he knelt in front of me. 

“You think?” he said, looking up at me with a smile.

Just then, the baby kicked. “Yeah. The baby knows it already, too. She always kicks when she hears your voice.”

Jonathan's eyes were shining as he pressed his lips to my stomach again and whispered. “I love you so much already, little one. I can’t wait to meet you.”

I fell asleep that night in Jonathan’s arms, feeling more thankful than I ever thought possible.

~~~

“Dad, will you push me on the swings again?”

“Hey, he just pushed you! It’s my turn now, right Dad?”

Jonathan glanced at me, beaming, before turning back to the kids. “Lucy’s right, Sam. It’s her turn now, but it’ll be your turn again next, okay?”

Sam groaned and ran to my place on the park bench, sitting next to me and leaning his little head against my arm. “I can’t wait til the new baby comes so you can push us again, Mom.”

I laughed, running my hand through Sam’s blond hair and looking back to watch Jonathan and Lucy laughing by the swings. “Are you excited to be a big brother again?”

“Yeah!” he grinned up at me. His smile reminded so much of Jonathan’s, it almost hurt.

They went on like that for a while before Jonathan said, “You two push each other for a while, okay? I’m gonna go check on your mom.”

Jonathan settled in next to me, draping his arm across my shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of my head. “How are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice.

“I’m good, Jonathan, you don’t have to keep such a close eye on me. I’ve done this before,” I joked.

He kissed my cheek. “You know I can’t help it. I love keeping my eye on you,” he said teasingly, nuzzling my neck.

I laughed. 

We grew quiet for a bit and he looked at me quizzically. “Are you okay? Something on your mind?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking…” I trailed off, not sure if I should bring it up.

“About?”

“Well, the kids love playing outside.”

“Yes…”

“And we don’t have much of a yard…”

“True,” he said, looking at me with anticipation. 

“And we’re about to have another kid.”

“I had noticed that,” he joked.

“So…” I trailed off again, looking at him. 

He was smiling. “So. I think we're going to need a bigger house.”

I grinned. “I think so, too.”

Jonathan got a mischievous glint in his eye, and he leaned close to my ear, so the kids wouldn’t be able to hear a thing. “We’ll need a babysitter the day we move in.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“Well, we’ll have to consummate every room, just like we did in our house now.”

I burst out laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yes! It brought us good luck, I think.”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” I asked as he leaned in to kiss me.

“Ewww!” Sam and Lucy shrieked in unison. 

Jonathan sighed, smiling at me. “I love you, sweetheart.”

I beamed. “I love you, too.”

[justalarryblog]

💮give and take by @sky_reid (1k) | Explicit

sometimes louis just needs.

💮One for Luck by @leavingonatrain (96k) | Explicit

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles’ deep, deep voice, he’s just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he’s officially back on Great Britain’s Olympic team. He’s also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there’s a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life’s grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

💮Am I More Than You Bargained For Yet? by @afangirlfantasy (45k) | Mature

“It sounds to me like the people you’ve allowed to be a part of your life, don’t deserve even a fraction of a minute of it.” As they repeat over and over, Harry calls out to fate and destiny, asking them why that can’t be true? Why can’t Harry be deserving of love? Why can’t Harry be as special as Louis argues he is? Louis’ beliefs ring in Harry’s mind like the most hopeful of gospels, and Harry wants to proclaim them as his new religion. But when his hands reach out into the vast emptiness of his flat to grab them, to grab Louis, there’s only a shard of a memory to clutch onto.

Or

AU where Harry doesn’t know what it means to be in love, and Louis’ still in love with somebody else.

💮I Cannot Dream Tonight Series by @afangirlfantasy (50k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮Birds in Gilded Cages by @graveyardwitch (157k) | Mature

There is a hotel in London where beautiful young men and women are kept like birds in a gilded cage, prisoners bound to satisfy your deepest darkest desires….

After being kidnapped as a teenager, Harry Styles was forced into high-class prostitution by the evil Mr Cowell. Louis Tomlinson is heir to his father’s corporation, set to inherit millions…But engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and deeply unhappy. When they meet at a party sparks fly and they embark on a passionate and dangerous relationship…But can it ever be true love when one of you is being paid? And can Louis ever rescue Harry from The Bird Cage Hotel?

Warning-This story is about prostitution so there will be a LOT of sex. I do not own One Direction etc etc. I do ship Larry but I don’t care if it’s real or not, I just like reading and writing the fanfic.

💮Don’t Waste Your Time On Me, You’re Already The Voice Inside My Head by @afangirlfantasy (28k) | Not Rated

At 16 years old, everyone takes a compatibility test on their birthday. At some point after taking the test, and along with other data collected, everyone finds out if they are a Dom or Sub.

At 17 years old, everyone receives a bracelet that notifies them when they have been matched. Every Dom needs a Sub. Every Sub needs a Dom.

When Louis’ bracelet lights up weeks after getting it, let’s just say that who he is matched with, is not quite what he had been expecting.

💮driving instructor fic by @LoadedGunn (104k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is a 25-year-old driving instructor and Harry is a 17-year-old virgin who’s really awful at seduction, except for the time he gets Louis to fall for him and fuck him senseless and take him on kinky adventures.

💮His Submission Series by tonystankyall (orphan_account) (152k) | Mature

Louis Tomlinson lives in a world where Domination and Submission is a norm. When you are born you are either branded Sub or Dom. Subs get a little pink or blue, depeneding on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck. Doms get Red or Black, depending on gender, series of swirls on the back of their neck.

Louis Tomlinson was branded with a Blue tattoo and his day has finally come. The day of his 18th birthday where he will be randomly assigned a Dom. This dom could range from younger to older, poorer to richer, and male to female. You never knew what you were going to get. Some Doms were more harsher and stricter than others. Louis didn’t want a harsh Dom to submit to.

Harry Styles was branded with a Black tattoo and he just recieved in the mail that he was finally getting a submissive. Harry was a 32 year old man, settled in, and very very rich. He’s been waiting for an assigned submissive to be chosen for him for a very long time. His Dom friend, Zayn, has gotten his submissive two years prior, a little spit fire irish boy, Niall.

*The rest is in the note*

💮Loving You Is Free by @littlelouishiccups (91k) | Explicit

Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn’t been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

💮sex shop fic (dildornado ‘verse) by @istajmaal, @LoadedGunn (96k) | Explicit

AU where Louis is the most helpful sex shop salesperson in the history of sex shops, and Harry really was just looking for a vibrator with simple instructions (yet ended up getting a hands-on demonstration).

💮Dance Floor Whore by @ropewithnoanchor (7k) | Explicit

Louis and Harry go to a club while on tour to blow off some steam, but Harry gets too drunk and lets another man dance up on him in front of everyone. Louis takes him back to their hotel and spends the next morning punishing Harry, making Harry work to make it up to him.

💮Hold On To The Words You Spoke (Anchored Down In The Throat) by @justletmegohome (13k) | Explicit

“No, no. Louis, just stop. It’s not stupid, it’s never stupid. Believe it or not, I care. I care so much. Do you honestly think I’d still have my dick in your ass if I didn’t?”

Louis chuckles at that, but it’s sad, Harry notes it’s not right. “That will change when I tell you.”

“Never.” Harry kisses every bit of his face he can reach, he has no idea how that can help but he’s going to do it anyways.

“I don’t like the way I sound. ’S all,” Louis says in one breath, going coy as soon as he’s done speaking, his eyes casting downwards.

For a moment, Harry can’t believe his ears. Or the words Louis just said even if he can see them hanging in the air between them. Harry is not even sure if he listened He doesn’t want to believe them, maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time coming up with his own words.

*** Basically, Louis is loud. And then he isn’t. Harry ties him up to find out why. ***

💮I’m Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by @Phillipa19 (6k) | Explicit

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry’s sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

💮leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

💮Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account (16k) | Explicit

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

💮smile in slow motion by @istajmaal (24k) | Explicit

“It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.”

or, Louis is Harry’s dom and maybe also his soulmate.

💮sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me by @moonlightlouis (4k) | Not Rated

harry’s been a naughty boy and needs to be punished and louis is there to do it

💮Sweet Dreams by @dormant_bender (5k) | Explicit

When fantasies become reality.

💮To Be Loved To Be In Love by @Angel_Dust (129k) | Mature

At 18, every Sub must take a Match Test to find their Dom.

Poor, Farm kid Louis Tomlinson is matched with Rich, Businessman Harry Styles.

Or, where Harry thinks giving Money, expensive presents and luxuries proves how much you love someone, but Louis is about to turn his world upside down.

✨You can also check My Fic Tags for more fics! ✨

[thefloorisbalaclava]

pairing: frankie ‘catfish’ morales x f!reader

warnings: SMUT

a/n: someone saw this listed on my freaky frankie hcs and wanted a little fic so here it is!

You and Frankie cuddle in the bed of his pickup looking up at the stars. It’s become one of your favorite things to do ever since you started dating months ago. It was a little cooler tonight so you curl up against him under the blanket he keeps in his truck.

“I think that’s Orion's belt,” he says pointing to the stars that seem to be in a straight line.

“Looks like it.” You always love when he randomly decides to drive out far enough to get away from all the light pollution. If he could live out here, you’re sure he would.

“You’re not too cold, are you?” he asks.

“That’s your third time asking. I’m fine, Frankie. Promise.” You look at him and he smiles. “You’re so cute.”

“Nah, you are.” He pulls you against him and nuzzles your cheek before kissing it then slowly moves towards your lips.

“I was wondering when you were gonna kiss me.”

“Oh, you want a kiss?” he teases, brushing his lips against yours playfully before pulling away. “You could ask nicely you know.”

“Kiss me now,” you say and he looks offended.

“Rude.” He dips out of the way before your lips connect.

“Frankie!”

He looks at the sky again. “I’m stargazing. Sorry.”

“Okay, fine. Guess I’ll get in the truck.” You sit up and he wraps an arm around your waist quickly, pulling you back down.

“Babe…don’t leave me. It’s cold.”

“A kiss could warm you up, but you don’t wanna give me one.” You shrug and try to scoot away from him.

“C'mere,” he says through his teeth before kissing you, smiling against your lips as he pulls away. “You’re right, that did warm me up.”

“Want another one?”

“Yeah.” He moves in for another kiss, pushing you onto your back so he can get on top of you. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Frankie…what are you doing?” you ask.

“Kissing you. Getting warm.” He kisses at your neck now and you pull his hat off to get to his hair.

“Lips, please.”

He moves back to your lips kissing you a little deeper this time. He makes a low sound and you feel…

“Oops.” He pulls away only for you to see the smirk on his face.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, hm?”

“Kissing you…always…does this to me.” And now he can’t stop kissing you. They’re slow, teasing kisses, but kisses nonetheless. “You wanna…uh…”

“Francisco… are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Well, we’re in the middle of nowhere and we’re under a blanket so…” He shrugs and waits for you to respond. “But if you don’t wanna that’s-"

“Never said I didn’t want to. I just…” You look around. He is right—it's pretty secluded up here and you’d be lying if you said you never thought about this. “How?” you whisper as if someone would hear.

“Take your pants off,” he says quietly, lifting himself off you to help. The blanket hangs over his shoulders as he sits up on his knees to pull everything on your lower half off. He settles on top of you again and moans. “Now that’s warm.”

“Jesus...,” you hiss, covering your face.

“Okay…so…” He slips his hand between your legs and you yelp then cover your mouth.

“Sorry, but your hands are freezing.”

“I’m warming ‘em up right now, baby.” He kisses you as he touches you, rubbing you in all the right spots. You pant against his lips, trying your best to keep up with his kisses.

“Fuck…Frankie…” His fingers are certainly warm now, at least two of them are, tucked snugly inside you. He moves his thumb up to touch you just the way you like and you arch into his hand.

“Wow, you really like this, huh?” He kisses and nips at your neck again and that’s enough to help you finish around his fingers with a gasp and whimper.

“Okay…wow…” You look around again as you catch your breath.

Frankie sucks his fingers clean before reaching down to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, reaching in to free himself. He groans in relief and slots himself between your legs again.

“I can’t believe we’re fucking doing this,” he says.

“Your idea. If we get caught, I’m blaming-" Your last word is cut off with a loud moan as he pushes into you and Frankie is quick to cover your mouth, chuckling and hiding his face against your shoulder. He turns his head only to see you laughing too.

“Warn me next time,” you giggle against his palm.

“If we get caught, I’m…blaming…you.” He trembles on the last word as he pushes as deeply as he can. His hand was no longer on your mouth, but you stay as quiet as you can. Soon, he’s the one trying to stay quiet, the truck rocking precariously with each of his thrusts.

“This is…crazy…and really fucking hot,” you say quietly, pulling Frankie closer so you can kiss him. The feeling of his jeans rubbing against you with each thrust is something you never expected to turn you on so much.

“Mm what’s so hot about it, hm?” he asks, looking down between your bodies.

“Everything. You. Doing this in your truck under the stars.” You gasp on the last word as he starts touching you. “Frankie…god, that’s amazing. Don’t stop.”

“Why would I stop?” He sits up on his knees and thrusts harder, his hand still working between your legs. He uses his free hand to hold on to your thigh. “Can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner.” His thrusts begin to falter and you know he’s close.

“Come here, Francisco.”

He lets you hold him as he nears his end, his thrusts losing any kind of rhythm they once had. His raspy, stuttered breathing in your ear is something you’ll always love. The little whispers of sweet and dirty words are like music. He grunts once, twice, then whimpers your name and that’s all it takes for both of

you.

“Ah, fuck,” he says through his teeth, trying his best not to collapse on top of you as you hit your peak right along with him. You’re used to scratching at his back but all you can do now is pull and claw at his shirt.

“You sure know how to make me see stars, don’t you?” you breathe as he pulls out and lays down heavily beside you.

“I saw ‘em too,” he admits and you both know this had nothing to do with the stars in the sky.

You look over at him and he’s already looking at you. You both burst into laughter. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Believe it, baby.” He shuffles around a little, fixing his pants then buckling his belt.

“It’s kinda hot…you keeping your clothes on,” you confess as you play with his belt buckle.

“Really? I wish I could’ve taken everything off.” He sits up and finds your discarded clothes then helps you redress. “Nothing like your body against mine with no barriers.”

“One thing I can say is that it’s not really all that cold anymore.” You take his hand in yours. “Nope. Nice and warm.”

He moves in close. “Yeah, well, anyone would get warm tucked inside you,” he murmurs playfully before laughing again.

“Francisco!” You shove him jokingly then he kisses you and the laughs fade into sighs of happiness. “Now, take me home so I can get…cleaned up.”

“As long as I can help,” he says sliding out the bed of the truck then helping you down. “Bath or shower? I’m thinking bath.”

“Do I not have a say?”

“Of course. Which one do you want?” He waits for your answer.

“Bath,” you mumble and he scoffs.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Hush.” You nudge him and he grabs you.

“Make me.” His arms around you, anchoring you against him.

“Oh, I’ll make you…”

You both smile as your lips touch.

permanent tag list: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @tiffdawg​ @smartsexycalmreflective @cryptkeepersoul​