#this post has been sitting in my draft box for a year

[thekarenpagebulletin]

HOLY GUACAMOLE

THEY’RE BACK

I’M SO HAPPY AHHH !!!!

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[puckinghischier]

The 7th Year

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils

notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼

[4.4k]

“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.

“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.

Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.

Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.

“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.

You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.

“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.

People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.

All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.

“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.

Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.

Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.

“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.

“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.

“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.

You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.

“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.

You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.

“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.

You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.

Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.

Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.

You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.

You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.

As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.

Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.

“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.

“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.

Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.

Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.

Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.

Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.

“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.

You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.

“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.

You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.

“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.  

You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.

“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.

Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”

You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.

When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.

You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.

What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.

When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini. 

You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.

“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.

“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.

You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.

When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.

You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.

“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”

He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.

“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.

“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.

You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.

“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.

As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.

You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.

You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.

You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.

Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.

“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.

Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.

A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.

You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.

“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.

You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.

“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.

“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.

“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”

He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.

“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.

“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.

When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.

Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.

You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.

You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.

“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.

Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.

You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.

“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.

You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.

“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.

Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.

“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.

You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.

“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.

“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.

The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.

“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.

“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.

“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.

He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”

You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.

“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.

“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”

Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.

You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”

This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.

“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.

“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.

Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.

His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.

He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.

“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.

You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.

“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”

You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.

“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.

He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”

You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.

You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.

“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.

[a-lexia11]

Birthday cake

Leah Williamson x reader

Words: 1,9k

Summary: Your best friend surprises you with a unique birthday cake.

Note: This fic has been in my drafts for weeks, so it’s about time I finally post it!! I got inspired by a TikTok I saw of a Leah Williamson-themed cake. This cake is made by @cakesnbakes.byphoebe on TikTok.

Seven months. It’s hard to believe that it’s been that long since Leah and I first got together.

Sometimes, I still feel like the fangirl I was before everything changed, the one who stayed up late watching highlights of her games, scrolling through her social media, and screaming at the TV whenever she made a spectacular play for Arsenal or the England team.

Leah Williamson. Just saying her name used to send butterflies through my stomach. Now, I get to say it while holding her hand,kissing her or waking up next to her.

But some things never really go away, and one of them is my complete and utter admiration for her. No matter how much time passes, that’s a part of me that I don’t think will ever fade.

It’s not something I try to hide, either. Anyone who knows us can see how much I admire her.

Whether it’s wearing the latest Arsenal jersey with her name and number on the back, showing up to every home game, or reposting her pictures with proud captions—I’m still her number one fan, even if now I get to be more than that, too.

——

The first time I saw Leah in person feels like a lifetime ago. It was at an Arsenal game at the Emirates Stadium, a match I’d been anticipating for weeks.

I had the best seat I could afford, close enough to the pitch that I could see every expression on her face as she directed the defense, her voice cutting through the roar of the crowd.

Leah was, as always, incredible. Her presence on the field was commanding, every movement deliberate, every pass precise.

I could hardly keep my eyes off her, completely absorbed in the way she played. But the real magic happened after the match.

I lingered outside the stadium, hoping for a glimpse of her, maybe a quick photo if I was lucky.

The crowd was thinning out, and I was beginning to lose hope when suddenly, there she was—walking out of the stadium with a few of her teammates, laughing and talking casually like she hadn’t just been the best player on the pitch.

I felt my heart race as I awkwardly approached, phone in hand. “Leah, can I—um, can I get a picture with you?” My voice trembled, betraying how starstruck I was.

She turned to me, those sharp blue eyes softening as she smiled. “Of course!” she said, her tone friendly and warm. She put an arm around me, and I tried to stay calm as someone snapped the picture.

After the photo, I managed to stutter out, “You’re amazing, Leah. I’ve been following your career for years. You’re, like, my hero.”

She laughed softly, a little embarrassed but clearly touched. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

I stood there for a moment, watching her walk away, thinking that would be the last time I ever saw her up close. But fate had other plans.

——

Now, fast forward to today—my birthday. Seven months into dating Leah, and I’m still in awe of how it all happened.

My best friend decided to throw a small party to celebrate, inviting some close friends and, of course, a few of the Arsenal girls who I’ve become close with through Leah.

Lia Wälti, Beth Mead and Katie McCabe—all of them had welcomed me into their circle, making me feel like part of the team in their own way.

The party was exactly what I wanted—nothing too crazy, just a relaxed evening with the people I love.

We were all gathered in my living room, chatting, laughing, and sharing stories. Leah was by my side, her arm casually draped over the back of the couch, occasionally joining in on the conversation but mostly just sitting back and watching me enjoy my night.

After a while, my best friend disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a large cake box, a mischievous grin on her face. “Alright, everyone, it’s time for the cake!” she announced, placing the box on the coffee table in front of us.

I looked at her suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! It’s just a cake,” she said innocently, but the twinkle in her eyes told me otherwise.

She lifted the lid, and laughter erupted throughout the room.

My jaw dropped as I saw the cake in front of me. It was decorated with small paper cutouts of Leah mounted on sticks, scattered across the surface.

In addition, the cake itself was adorned with edible pictures of Leah, all covered in a layer of red and white cream.

Leah in her Arsenal jersey, Leah in a suit, Leah lifting a trophy,Leah in a sport bra,Leah in a training kit,Leah frowning—everywhere you looked, it was Leah, Leah, and more Leah.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, feeling my face heat up as everyone laughed and cheered.

“You’re such a huge fan of Leah Williamson, so we thought, what better way to celebrate your birthday than with a Leah Williamson cake?” my best friend said, her voice barely audible over the laughter.

Leah, who had been quietly observing from the sidelines, finally broke into a grin. “Well, this is certainly a first,” she said, chuckling as she leaned over to get a better look at the cake. “I have to admit, it’s pretty flattering.”

I covered my face with my hands, torn between laughing and dying of embarrassment. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Katie, never one to miss a chance for a joke, picked up a piece with Leah’s face on it and pretended to give it a little kiss before taking a bite. “Sorry, Leah, but you taste even better than I thought,” she teased, earning more laughs from the room.

Leah smirked, shaking her head at Katie. “Watch it, McCabe. Don’t make me regret letting you in here.”

The jokes continued as everyone grabbed a slice of cake, and while I was mortified at first, I eventually joined in on the fun.

After all, it was all in good spirits, and it wasn’t like the cake was wrong—I was a huge fan of Leah, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Not anymore.

Leah caught my eye from across the room, and the look she gave me was one of pure affection.

Despite all the teasing, I could tell she found the whole thing endearing. She walked over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

“You know,” she said softly, her lips brushing against my ear, “I think it’s kind of cute that you’re still my biggest fan, even after all this time.”

I tilted my head up to look at her, grinning despite the flush in my cheeks. “I told you from the beginning—I’m never going to stop being your number one fan. You’re stuck with me, Williamson.”

She smiled down at me, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. “Good. Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As the night wore on and people began to head home, Leah and I found ourselves alone in the now-quiet living room.

The remnants of the cake still sat on the table, half-eaten, with a few stray crumbs scattered around. I sighed, feeling a content warmth settle over me as I leaned back against the couch.

Leah sat down beside me, her arm naturally finding its place around my shoulders.

She glanced at the cake and then back at me, a smirk tugging at her lips. “So, are you going to get a cake with my face on it every year now? Or was this a one-time thing?”

I groaned, playfully nudging her with my elbow. “Don’t even start. I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

She laughed softly, pulling me closer until my head rested against her shoulder. “Probably not. But hey, if you ever need a reminder of how much you love me, just look at the cake.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

She tilted her head, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You love it.”

I shifted slightly so I could look up at her, my gaze locking with hers. “Maybe I do.”

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the room quiet and still around us.

Then, Leah leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that was soft and slow, the kind of kiss that made my heart skip a beat.

I melted into her, letting the comforting warmth of her embrace envelop me while the familiar taste of her lips lingered on mine. As I straddled her, I felt an intense connection, fully immersed in the intimate moment we shared.

When we finally pulled away, I was breathless, my fingers still tangled in her hair. “You know,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, “I think you might be the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

Leah chuckled, looking slightly up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh yeah? Better than a cake with my face on it?"

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "As much as I love that cake, you definitely top it."

She smirked, leaning in so that her lips were only inches from mine, her hands sliding up and down my thighs. "Good answer," she murmured.

I kissed her again, more deeply this time, letting myself get lost in the moment.

Leah had a way of making everything else disappear when she was close like this, and right now, all I wanted was to stay here in her arms forever.

When we finally parted again, Leah rested her forehead against mine, her breath warm against my skin. "You know," she said, her voice low and teasing, "since you’re such a dedicated fan, maybe you should show your appreciation a bit more often."

I raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Oh? And how exactly should I do that?"

Leah grinned as her hands moved to my butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I can think of a few ideas," she said.

I laughed, swatting her lightly on the arm. "You’re terrible."

"Terribly in love with you," she countered, her voice full of affection.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. "You’re lucky I love you too."

Leah leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a kiss that was soft but full of promise. "Believe me, I know."

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away as we shared quiet moments filled with laughter, teasing, and the kind of love that felt unshakeable.

Eventually, though, the night began to catch up with us, and I found myself yawning despite my best efforts to stay awake.

Leah noticed, of course, and gently nudged me toward the bedroom. "Come on, birthday girl. Time for bed."

I pouted but let her lead me down the hall, feeling a content warmth settle over me as I climbed into bed.

Leah slid in beside me, pulling me close until my head rested on her chest, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat lulling me into a peaceful state.

Just before I drifted off, Leah whispered into the darkness, her voice soft and filled with affection. "Happy birthday, my love. I’m glad I get to spend it with you."

I smiled, my eyes already closing as I mumbled, "Best birthday ever."

And as I fell asleep in her arms, I knew that no matter what the future held, as long as I had Leah by my side, every day would feel like the best day ever.

FIN

[hcsarchive]

BOXER

nct dream (hint of the boyz)

details ␥ fem!reader x boxer!jaemin (ft. haechan)

genre ␥ smut with a plot, fluff?, lil angst +

━ after getting cheated on, you get invited to an underground boxing match but you stumble into some dangerous territory and that’s where things take a turn.

warnings ➠ explicit language, drugs, alcohol, overstimulation, flirty banter, praise kink, threesomes, corruption kink, fingering, dry humping, knives, rope bunny, blood, cheating, violence, and if there is more please let me know. *some may not be included in all parts*

MINORS DNI

!!these characters are completely fiction and do no represent the idol!!

A/N

Hope you enjoy my first piece of writing! This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year and i finally decided to post it.

part two

PART ONE

You and your boyfriend Sunwoo are on the couch watching a movie until his phone goes off. “babe I have to get going, chanhee will be here soon” he kisses your cheek and he leaves since he was already dressed before you even arrived.

Recently every night before your Friday night shift, you seem to notice he leaves at the same time and uses the same excuses to leave. Of course, you want to hang out with your best friend but you also want to be with him. You hardly get the chance to spend time together and the only time you see one another is after classes and twice a week which is not enough.

You watch him from the corner of your eyes as he gets ready to leave. Where is he going and why isn’t he telling you? Tears start forming around your eyes but holding them until he leaves is the best option. Speaking up about what is hurting you isn’t the easiest to do.

You are tired of Sunwoo throwing you around. He was the perfect boyfriend up until recently he started to be weird and his anger was getting unmanageable. One wrong thing you’ll say and he will start blaming you for everything which made you mad because you tried your best to be good to him.

Sunwoo hated seeing you cry, it angered him….

The door opens and Chanhee spots you crying once again. “Sunwoo again,” he says while rolling his eyes and dropping his bag on the floor. “Come here y/n” he pets your head as you’re crying.

“He left again and I didn’t even get the chance to say anything. Do you know where he goes” you look up at him and he nods no.

“Next Friday is our 6 month anniversary and if he leaves again we are over. I can’t hold on any longer I’m sorry” Both of you stay there in silence while tears fall down your eyes.

“I’m tired of seeing you hurt, do what is best for you and the rest I can take care of” Chanhee wipes your tears and stands up to get you a glass of water.

Two figures come in and Chanhee shoos them away. “Whyyyy we want to spend time with y/n too” Hyunjae screams “y/n tell your bff to stop hogging you” Jacob joins in. You laugh at the tiny blue-haired boy trying to push two buff men out of the living room.

“Chanhee it’s ok I’m fine now,” you say standing up and walking towards them.

“Did Sunwoo leave already? He was supposed to carpool with us” Hyunjae furrows his eyebrows. Chanhee looks at you and with that look, you already know what to do.

“He didn’t mention he was going with you guys” chanhee starts.

“Did he say anything to you?” Jacob points at you.

“Nope he just received a text and told me he has to go” you respond. 

“Weird…do any of you want to come instead?” Hyunjae whips out 3 tickets.

Chanhee takes them and smirks because he did overhear his roommate say something about this  the other day “I’ll pass- take y/n instead, I can cover your shift”

You grab the tickets and it’s a ticket with an unrecognizable location on it. The back has a bunch of little letters that state some sort of agreement.

“Where is this?” You ask.

“It’s an underground boxing show. They have these huge matches and two of the famous boxers are fighting tonight which would be a huge cash price” Jacob nudges you “wanna come”

“Yeah, I’m down. Can I get ready? I have a couple things here already”

“Sure we still have time” Hyunjae looks at Jacob then you.

“awesome” you grab your bag and hug Chanhee goodbye because he is already heading to his room.

“call me if anything happens ok” you both do thumbs up and then you go to sunwoo room to get ready.

*on the way to the match*

You play with your nails nervously because you are still a bit sad about earlier. The boys drive off the road and drive through a concrete tunnel with graffiti all over with glowing red tape which you assume is a symbol. For about 10 minutes of driving through a dirt road, you see loads of trees.

Jacob hands the keys to the valet parking worker and parks his car somewhere. You follow them through another dirt pathway which is lined up with a few securities.

"How did you even find this place," you ask.

"Our trainer transferred here, so he can start working here full time. Supposedly Sunwoo was offered a spot here which I am not surprised because he is a great fighter" Jacob said.

"Oh" is all you can say. The weight off of your shoulder left after hearing that. Of course, you don't like the idea of him getting hurt while boxing but you also were relieved that you finally know what he has been doing.

For now, you just want to have fun since you hardly have time to do anything different around here. You see a gray building and small windows at the top with loads of lights.

The men at the entrance take tickets and they make everyone sign papers while being metal detected. The building is filled with thousands of people and the building was definitely soundproof because you could not hear the amount of talking outside.

You sit in between both of them and look around at everything. The whole place looks like a concert arena, just this one smells like a mix of all sorts of drugs, alcohol, and sweaty men. Your eyes land on the line of girls dressed in provocative costumes and beautiful hair, topped with glittery makeup. You were amazed at how confident they all looked.

The first pair of fighters start and Jacob gasps "It's Lee Jeno he is the second-best boxer in the history of dungeon boxing."

"Who is the first?" You wonder while looking at how fast he is throwing and dodging punches.

"Na Jaemin, this new generation is beating all of the past generation records. Those two together will whip out everyone in here" blood streams down the other opponent's mouth while Jeno’s hand is raised up.

 Lee Jeno wins which makes everyone chant his name while he puffs his chest and throws his fists up for everyone to chant even louder.

More people fight and you have the urge to go to the bathroom. Both of them look very concentrated “I’m going to the bathroom real quick” you say to Jacob.

“I can take you, the best match is at the end,” he says standing up right away but someone behind us yells at us to sit down.

“It’s fine I’ll go on my own I see the bathroom sign” you lie and leave towards a random door before he gets the chance to react.

There were so many people in the pathway that you had to push through as politely as possible but someone bumps into you which makes you bump into this couple towards the back wall. You apologize regardless of them paying attention to you since they were making out.

You felt the back of the jacket being pulled back aggressively once you turned around. “Why the fuck did you bump into us you dirty bitch” you were met with some angry girl’s eyes but then your boyfriend’s?

Her body is still pressed against his. “Pathetic” you grab the girl's arm off and throw it down with all your force.

You pass through two security guards and through the gray doors. It's another door but it’s locked. You were already hysterically crying and trying to twist the door with blurry teary eyes. The security guards just stare.

A couple seconds later the door opens and it’s two other males with clipboards and suits on. “Why were you trying to open the door,” the short one says.

“I was trying to go to the bathroom and this was the nearest door I saw,” You say.

“Where’s your ticket,” the other says.

“I don’t have it with me it’s-“ they cut you off again.

“Ok so not only don’t you have a ticket but you went through the VIP area and passed security to a door you aren’t even supposed to see”

The back doors that you just went into, opened. It was Sunwoo and the girl. “Oh look it’s the little lost girl who harassed us,” she says.

“Do you guys know her?” the short one asked them. Your teary eyes meet Sunwoo’s but he is avoiding your eyes. “Obviously not! why is she even here” she smacks her gum even more.

“Look I wasn’t looking for trouble I just want to know where the restroom is and move on with my day” tears stream down your cheeks on how frustrated you feel.

“Fine I’ll take you to our bathrooms but this is a one-time thing because-'' the short one was about to talk but the girl cut him off.

“Don’t let her in, she is probably undercover investigating us. Treat her like the rest of them” she says.

You were tired of standing there, you were trying to leave without saying anything or else you would start uncomfortably sobbing. “Jisung grab her” before you can even think, you feel a pair of arms lift you up.

“Put me down. Why am i- Can I at least let my friends know where I’m going”

They didn’t respond and all you saw was sunwoo at the end of the hallway walking into another room. You are too stunned to even be hurt about it. As you pass the many gray doors with numbers on them you start to feel sick.

He stops in front of room 07 and it’s the biggest door in the hallway. They both scan their faces then the door opens. After those doors, there are glass sliding doors. Again they scan their face and get a finger scan “Put your belongings in this bin and take off any layers” you take off your bag, shoes, and jacket.

You are left in your dress. The sliding doors open to reveal an elevator. You never expect such a trashy building on the outside to have these things like this on the inside. As you guys are going up, you notice how good-looking they are. “Do not look at us, look at the wall” Renjun says getting out his taser.

“Renjun relax” Jisung says, you laugh then Renjun puts away his taser and says sorry.

“He has trust issues, don't take it personally. We are just dragging you here or else Jia will complain to Haechan and we all hate her” Jisung explains.

“Why do you guys keep her then?” you ask.

“The crowd loves her and we don’t want to look for another person to replace since it’s a whole process. Plus she’s crazy” Jisung says.

“Stop talking to her until we investigate. You’re saying too many names and too much information” Renjun eyes you every three seconds while typing away on his phone. You had no idea who they were, what they did, but you know this is getting serious.

“We will have to keep her here for a month just to make sure she doesn’t say anything” another guy appears with a black silky button-up and dress pants as soon as the elevator doors open.

Your mouth dries up not only because of what he said but how he looks. His eyes are staring at you intensely up and down. 

“We haven’t investigated her yet” Jisung says since Renjun also seems to be confused. 

“No need. I found her right away and although she is not connected to anyone, she is dating the dude that has been seeing one of our show girls so that is a little suspicious. Explain why you are trying to get in and how you even got here.” Haechan questions you.

“I was trying to get out. There is no way I am staying here! i have a job and i’m a student” you try to turn around to leave but he pulls you back. 

"Do not make another move until I say so. I know your weaknesses sweetheart or should i say [your username] " meaning he probably looked through everything you have done online and you catch on to what he means. You don't move but he leans into you "go it" he whispers into your ear and you nod yes.

"Words sweetheart".

"got it" you respond.

"So now you are mocking me" he smirks and towers over you. His tie dangles over your face as you look up at him.

"Renjun, Jisung you guys are good to go now. Make sure Jaemin is prepared. Do not let anyone enter until I say so, including you guys. We will have a meeting about this one later”

"I have a name" he shoves two fingers into your mouth. "You are not aware of what I am capable of doing and who I am so do not even think about talking back to me"

You start to heat up by the way he is speaking to you because he basically knows more than anyone if he got your laptop information. You want him to get even angry at you, so you suck on his finger that is pointing at you and swirl your tongue around. He hovers over you and shoves his fingers deeper into your throat. "Stand up" he lifts his fingers with you attached to them and releases his fingers out of your mouth. You just got cheated on so the most you can do is live up to your fantasies.

Haechan smirks at you then looks where you were seated. You left a small puddle of your wetness. "Now that you have done your little show...it is time for your punishment" he sits down and pulls you to sit on his lap.

He takes off his tie and puts it over your eyes, you hear his belt come off and he buckles it onto your mouth. "Since you don't listen when I tell you not to speak or move" he spanks your ass "once you step into my office you have to obey me pretty girl" his hands grip your hips.

You start to move your hips against his thigh. You cannot stand the heat pulsing through your soaking core. He grips you harder and speeds your movements, moans start pouring through the belt.

"Who knew a person like you would be this desperate that fast. Exactly who I have been looking for but you bark back and I do not like that. You know what bad girls like you get" you nod your head no furiously so he can do something other than guiding you through his clothed thigh.

He demands you to get on all fours on top of the couch. Haechan unzips your dress and unclasps your bra. The belt from your mouth is removed and it is covered in saliva. The belt comes in contact with your ass which releases a couple fluids that are now dripping down your thighs so you cross your legs for some sort of friction. "What part of do not move do you not understand" he grabs both of your hands and belts your wrist. Your face is now smashed into the couch. 

"What do you fucking earn from edging me this long. Look at your fucking pants just whip it out for fucks sake, you are-"

"Shut the fuck up" he puts his knee between your legs and starts rubbing it around. "You need to learn how to keep that mouth shut" he shoved his knee further and pressured more. Your plan trying to hold back the screams fails.

He has a rope in his hands and you smirk "fuck" he rolls his eyes and starts to tie your hands then wraps it around your chest and stomach. Haechan tightens it even more in your thighs and brings the ends of ropes to your ankles.

He was about to put the rest around your mouth but you looked at haechan with lust. His face is spotted with moles and his eyes are framed with beautiful lashes. "You are pretty you know that" he looks at you in the eyes with anger but lust. "Do not sweet talk me"

"Are you going to kill me? you can at least make me cu-" he shoves a gag in your mouth and ties it. Your hair was pulled back by his hands and you looked up at him. He kneels down to be eye level with you "why aren't you scared of me?” 

-END OF PART ONE-

authors note :)

I hope you enjoyed the first part! this is my first time writing these types of things or in general so hopefully, I improve further on. If you have the time please leave some feedback it would mean a lot.

Thank you for reading <3

[princessconsuela120]

☾ Padfoot vs Prongs ☾

— ☾

Summary: A pregnancy in 7th year isn't exactly ideal...neither is your best friend and brothers annoying antics.

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff

Author's Note: just a shorty drabble i had sitting in my drafts. ill be posting requests soon!

— ☾

“Whisky!” James shouted, barreling into the room with Sirius a close foot behind. You rolled your eyes at the nickname, looking up from the book that had been occupying you for the past half hour. Ever since the boys had discovered your animagus was a cat, your brother James had deemed you the nickname Whiskers. Ironic that Fire Whisky had also been your favorite and dearly missed drink since the start of your pregnancy.

“Can I help you bozos?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the two boys who had wide smiles adorning their faces.

“Who has better hair, me or Padfoot.” James asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I’m not doing this you guys.” You replied quickly, shifting in your spot as the boys appeared from behind the couch.

“Come on just tell us.” James asked, stomping his foot slightly like a child.

“I said I’m not doing this, where’s Moony he needs to help me up.” You grumbled, still trying to get up from your spot and failing.

“He’s out.” Sirius said, a smirk on his face as you groaned, rolling your eyes.

“And you can’t get up and walk away without our help so, answer the question.” James teased, making you groan even louder, throwing your head back with frustration.

“I hate you both.” You hissed, making James hold his Chet with fake hurt as Sirius smirked.

“We love you too. But that wasn’t the question.” Sirius said, causing you to hold your hands out with anger,

“Please just help me up.” You mumbled, struggling to stand with your large bump in the way.

“No.” 

“Oh come on.” You whined, flailing around slightly with frustration.

“Not until you answer us.”

“I am not answering you, this is ridiculous!” You shouted, letting your head fall back angrily, as the door gently swung open, catching everyone’s attention. Your face couldn’t help but light up with a smile when your boyfriend, Remus, appeared at the doorway, his hands full of bags from Hogsmead.

“Okay, I’ve brought you the new chocolates from Hogsmeade. Not only are they delicious but Honeydukes swears by it’s healing power.” He explained, walking over to hand you a box.

“Remus, thank god, come help me up.” You said eagerly, before Remus shook his head.

“Nope.” He said quickly, sitting beside you. You stared at him for a moment in shock.

“What?” “Ha!”

You and the boys yelled in unison, causing Remus to sigh.

“Sorry love, but you’re on bed rest. Can’t risk hurting you or our little moon.” Remus explained, rubbing your bump gently with a kind smile on his face. You couldn’t even be mad at the sweetness of it.

“This is a travesty.” You sighed, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Perfect, now you can’t move, and you need to answer our question.” Sirius teased, causing Remus to perk up slightly with interest.

“What’s the question?” He asked, making James smile proudly.

“Which one of us has the better hair, me or Padfoot?” He asked.

Remus turned to face you, a nervous look on his face as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright come on, to the common room we go.” Remus said, helping you get up as you cheered to yourself.

“Hey!”

“She just didn’t wanna hurt your feelings cause you’re her best friend.” James said angrily, shaking his head as Sirius shoved him.

“You’re her brother! She’d wanna protect your feelings more!” He argued, before you appeared quickly in the doorway.

“For the record, the answer was Padfoot.” You said quickly, before gesturing to Remus to hurry up and help you out the room.

“Hey!” James shouted, about to come run after you before he noticed you had taken his invisibility cloak from his desk.

“Yes!” Sirius cheered, looking at himself in your mirror proudly, shaping his face, and his ego.

[decolonize-the-everything]

Ok, you seem to basically be saying project 2025 is inevitable so don’t vote because Joe Biden is evil. So then, how do we survive when contraception is made basically illegal, lgbt people are outlawed and possibly murdered, etc? Or are we supposed to just lie down and die?

These are two extremely specific scenarios that heavily play into self victimhood and narratives of powerlessness and frankly, I don't have the energy to pretend it's something else when there are a handful of rebels with literal fucking sticks fighting against a genocide being carried out by the world's richest powers.

You are neither a rebel nor are you fighting the world's richest powers with makeshift weapons or your bare hands. You are stressing about which box to check off in November, so my genuine advice is take your head out of your privileged asshole and consider that you have way more options than "vote" or "die" and lying to yourself about those being your only options is only gonna help you sleep for so long.

There are people like you and me literally fucking fighting for their right to live and exist, for their homes, for crumbs of food, dying for water, etc.

And you with your little American ballot in your hand have the audacity to say "should I just lay down and die" cuz I don't think you should check the Genocide Joe box???????????? And then you ask ME what IM going to do about it if cops possibly murder you when Trump is elected?

And you ask like that isn't ALREADY a daily reality for anyone living under Biden in the USA!!!!! We had protests for a whole fucking summer about police brutality cuz cops won't stop killing Black people! And they haven't stopped, you know.

So what was your answer when they asked us for our intersectional solidarity to save their lives? How much effort did you put in? Did you learn about mutual aid or direct action or how to protest? How to organize or draft demands so you can effectively make change year-round?

Cuz I remember how often those posts were going around. I know you saw some of them at least.

Did you make the effort to save someone besides yourself? Or did you think it was all unnecessary because you were fortunate to be wrapped in privilege?

You know, I didn't see one viral post from any white queer ppl saying "WE NEED TO (x) YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!" about defunding police departments or masking 🤧

What did you expect Black people to do when you didn't care enough to listen? When BLM stopped trending? What about Palestinians? Did you expect them to lay over and die? Did you think about what would happen if you abandoned them? Did you care?

But it matters now that you're on the other end, don't it?

ANY singular marginalized, oppressed group on earth can tell you letting them kill you has never been an option.

Stonewall didn't happen in a voting booth. Neither did the civil rights movement. Nor did our treaties. Even suffragettes committed arson and bombing campaigns.

We have never just laid down and let them kill our community or treat us like we are lesser. We have always taken what was ours because the nature of oppression is that you will never be given what you deserve, even if you vote for it.

"do we just lay down and die"

Liberation doesn't have a manual so I can't give you the step by step. But I assure that we will not find it through a bureaucracy and government built to silence, erase, and oppress us. And it sure as hell won't be found in a boomer that sleeps peacefully at night after killing children and denying genocide.

And the only fucking people that use others as stepping stones for their own comfort and well being are oppressors and fascists.

So additionally if you're sitting there upset because my morals don't bend for the privileged and you're thinking about how awful I am cuz I can't be convinced to justify killing people from Sudan and the DRC and Palestine instead of queer Americans then get fucked. Cuz you would be the EXACT type of person I loathe.

We are all in this together or you are with the oppressors. No more in between. We don't have the luxury of having the time to pretend there's any good reason to be a fascist apologist.

At this point, you're either fighting for progress and human rights or against it.

"are we supposed to just lay over and die"

If I die it'll be a warriors death and I think every single person on earth who has asked me "so what are we supposed to do?!" should work on having the same answer.

[crossthread]

Okay I swear to God I hope the directors of avatar (the alien movie) sees this post somehow but the whole reason the way of water flopped so badly is cause it was written over 10 years ago. So I like avatar. I thought it was a cool concept and good characters and overall a solid action movie. But the characterisation is just a dacade old man. It's really outdated. It instantly turned me off when Jake was seen to be a 'hardass' to his kids, and having them call him Sir, and have Neytiri taking kind of a secondary role as the 'peacekeeper' parent who goes 'but your dad loves you, he just wants you safe' bullshit trope that's just really not what this generation is looking for rn.

Emotionally mature parents is what's on topic rn. Dad's that step up and know what they're doing and don't have the 2000s 'military hardass emotionally distant' bullcrap. Just look at all the other movies and shows with family themes that did really fucking well. The Last of Us. Ultraman: Rising. Nimona. Even Maleficent, which I think is one of the earliest movies of this trope that's well known. They did well for a reason. You can't make Jake Sully a bad father and think the current audience will dig it. All of his kids, one way or another felt the pressure of living up to their dad's expectations, and im sure, whether he really loves them. And I assure you for all intents and purposes it felt like Neteyam died thinking he wasnt enough. You can't have those 'your dad loves you but he just doesn't know how to show it' bullshit anymore and expect the audience to like or even relate to that character cause a lot of us don't take that shit anymore from our own parents. A lot of millennials are actively trying to be present and good parents to their kids. So yeah. The way Jake Sully, and to a certain extent, Neytiri were characterised is probably one of the biggest reasons this entire movie flopped. It could have been great. But it isn't. And I kind of hate it actually.

My point is: if there's gonna be a third movie, the best bet to make sure it doesn't follow the way of waters footsteps is to overhaul a lot of the characterisation and plot. See what the audience wants rn, and what they audience relates to. It was clear the writing to that movie was old as balls and gen z or gen alpha don't take that shit man. Give us good parents

Edit: okay as someone pointed it out it wasn't actually a 'flop' flop because they grossed by over a billion or smth in the box office I think but to be fair half this post has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 years and I wrote this soon after I watched it back then, and a LOT of people werent that happy with it. But yall know what I mean. I waited for this movie for 10 years and all I felt was this low simmering disappointment because it could have been so good, but it wasn't.

[pablitosgf]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 ! — jb05

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! — jude bellingham x fem!reader

𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ! — in which you surprise jude with a special vacation.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! — nothing!!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! — this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS! even before i posted on this blog. so i hope y'all love it. btw i wrote this before he turned to the big 20 thats why it says 19. <3

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ! — writing

As you sat in your office chair, you couldn't help but smile as you thought about your anniversary with Jude. You had met him back in grade 11, and now he was a professional football player while you were studying to become a pediatrician one day. You had always wanted to have children, but of course, not at the moment. You and Jude were only 19 and had graduated high school a year ago. However, you had it all planned out – from engagement to marriage, pregnancy, and kids – for the future.

But for now, you needed to focus on finding the perfect anniversary gift for your beloved boyfriend of four years. You didn't want to give him something too basic, but you knew that he had always wanted to visit the Bahamas. Unfortunately, with his hectic schedule, there had never been a good time to make the trip. As you brainstormed ideas, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the time you had spent with Jude so far and excited for all the adventures that lay ahead for the two of you.

"That's it!" you exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face. "I'll surprise him with plane tickets for a week in the Bahamas. He has the whole next week off, so it's perfect timing." You couldn't wait to see the look on Jude's face when you told him.

With the apartment to yourself for a few hours due to his training, you quickly went to your laptop and booked a flight from Dortmund to the Bahamas. As you clicked "confirm" on the booking page, your heart raced with excitement. You knew that this trip would be a lifetime experience for the both of you, and you couldn't wait to share it with Jude.

After printing out the tickets, you headed to the store to pick up a fancy box and some accessories to go with it. As you were putting the finishing touches on your surprise, you heard the doorbell ring. Your heart racing with excitement, you ran to the door to greet Jude.

"Baby, you're finally here!" you exclaimed, barely containing your excitement. "I know we were supposed to exchange presents after our date, but I just can't wait any longer."

Jude raised his eyebrows, intrigued by your eagerness. "I can't wait to see what you've got for me," he said, leaning in to give you a light kiss.

You took his hand and led him to the box you had prepared, a huge grin on your face. Jude looked at you with a mix of confusion and anticipation as you urged him to open it. "Just open it," you said, barely able to contain your excitement.

Jude eagerly unlatched the box to reveal the tickets inside. At first, he looked confused, but as he examined them more closely, his eyes widened in disbelief. "What is this?" he asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

"You're joking, right?" he exclaimed, unable to believe his luck. But as he looked at you and saw the excitement written all over your face, he knew that this was real.

“You've always talked about how much you wanted to go," you said, smiling at him. "So I thought, why not make it happen?"

Jude's response was immediate - he wrapped his arms around you and began showering you with kisses all over your face, murmuring countless "thank yous" in your ear.

“You're welcome, my love," you said, feeling your heart swell with happiness.

You woke up to an enthusiastic and energetic Jude. "Come on, babe, get up!" Jude exclaimed, pulling your arm. You groaned and tried to resist, but Jude's excitement was contagious.

"Ugh, I'm too tired. Let me sleep," you complained, sinking back into the bed.

"No way! We have to get ready," Jude insisted.

"I just wanna sleep…" you muttered groggily.

"What did you say?" Jude asked, looking confused.

"Nothing," you replied, shaking your head and trying to shake off your sleepiness.

You posted a story on your Instagram and now you were sitting at the gate, waiting for the plane. You let out a sigh of boredom, and Jude noticed. "Hey, do you want to play chopsticks?" he asked.

You looked at him quizzically, "What's chopsticks?"

Jude was taken aback, "What?! How do you not know what chopsticks is?"

You just shrugged, which earned a loud puff from Jude.

"Fine, I'll teach you," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. He explained the rules and how to play, but you made snarky remarks here and there, calling it "boring" and "not fun." Jude being Jude, responded with a sassy retort.

As Jude turned his head to you, he exclaimed, "We're actually here!" His lips barely missed yours as he spoke, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

"Of course, my love," you replied, returning the almost-kiss with a soft one of your own. "I'm so happy we're finally here in the Bahamas together." You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand as you headed towards the exit, eager to start your week-long adventure in paradise.

[pa1nkill3r]

Day 2,557 [G.W]

[Pairing:] George Weasley x GN!Reader

[Summary:] A boy comes into the joke shop with his mother; It felt all too weird for the one-eared owner to feel so at ease, something he never felt for the past 7 years.

[Warnings:] angst, sad, major character death (not Fred obv), reincarnation, grief, mourning, swearing

[a/n:] Scrolling through facebook and getting videos of children talking about their past lives really intrigued me. This is my first fic and it might be bad so please don’t bully me, I’m sensitive <3 (jkjk but I am open for constructive criticism!)

[a/n; March 2024] I wrote this draft back in 2021 or 2022 I believe, waiting desperately for the opportunity to finish and post this. That time never came. Now, 2 or 3 years later, I gravely admire my vocabulary, creativity, and passion for writing back then. Honestly speaking, moving schools killed my spark and I am desperate to get it back. For now, I am working on reviving that spark within me by going back to where I started. Even though the HP fandom isn't as active as it used to be, I would still like to share this piece I made because I am so, so proud of my younger self.

╰┈➤✎*+:｡.｡⋆·˚ ༘ **ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

There was something about Y/N wearing white that George loved so much. He always got so giddy and cute which in turn made their eyes roll and mouth grin.

The way Y/N looked sitting at the Great Hall with their white sleeves rolled to their elbows, one hand under their chin and the other twirling a spoon while their eyes dragged along their charms textbook, cramming in as much information as they could for the upcoming test that afternoon. 

Or that time at the Yule Ball when they thought it’d be funny to wear an all white ensemble because: “What?...I wanted to feel like a bride at their wedding.” whilst having the best night with George, their “groom”.

Even small moments like when they would steal a shirt from George’s drawer and wear it to sleep. He loved every single bit of it, even if it cost him many shirts.

He truly never got enough of them wearing white. So seeing them in a casket wearing that same color 7 years ago, looking so peaceful and so… dead. That killed him. That’s the last time he will see them in white; That’s the last time he’s going to see them at all. 

That was the last time he could actually feel their hand rather than just dried oil on linen canvas, framed in oak and hung atop his bed. How he wished their eyes could roll one more time at how stupidly in love their boyfriend is with them, especially in white.

Voldemort’s reign of terror had ended, as well as the lives of many others, and maybe even George. They were a horcrux he never made, his life force created by deep love and affection rather than the hunger for immortality.

It never got easier even after 7 years, he simply just got used to it. 

He got used to the feeling of an empty bed. He got used to gripping onto a cold body pillow instead of a warm figure and a heartbeat with Y/H/C hair disturbing his lips. He got used to counting the days since their death which gravely disturbed Fred, his twin. He got used to waking up everyday and checked off a box from the calendar with an absurd amount of numbers on it. 

Admittedly he is doing better than he did 7 years ago. No more jumping from every small sound and drawing out his wand in the middle of the night. No more vivid dreams of several dead bodies laid across the Great Hall. No more crying himself to sleep. No more missed dinners. No more grieving. 

He’s longed for them longer than he has actually been with them. But his love never faltered. Not once. 

╰┈➤✎*+:｡.｡⋆·˚ ༘ **ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Day 2,557

It's now exactly 7 years since the Battle of Hogwarts. And in a month it would be the 7th anniversary of his obituary for Y/N on the Daily Prophet, a suggestion made by Percy to try and help his grieving brother. It helped, but not really. 

The small May 2nd, 2005 box wrote “Baby Vic’s Birthday!” in bold red ink. George moved the yellow paper star that stuck gently onto the calendar with paper tape as Fred walked into his room. Envelope in his hands, bread between his teeth, and a beautiful haughty looking owl on his shoulder.

“Fun to finally see you up, Georgie!” Fred greeted sarcastically as George hummed in response. “Bill just sent an owl that little Vicky’s turning 5!"

"That is usually how birthdays work, Freddie." George joked, grabbing his wand and with a flick, his bed is magically fixed. "I'm not a dumbass, you know?" Fred chuckled lightly as he handed George the letter from Bill and Fleur, "They're hosting a party for her at the Burrow at 5."

He took the piece of parchment and flattened it by his desk before pulling it closer to his face, his back mindlessly pinning itself to the wall. 

Dear Fred and George, 

Bill here, As you should know, it's baby Victoire's 5th birthday today and we would really like love to have you two come by the Burrow at 5 pm. 

Vic really misses you both. Uncle George this, Uncle Fred that. She’s going to be like you two one day, I’m tellin’ ya. She loves listening to stories you tell her, especially the ones about Y/N and Tonks. She thinks that they’re the coolest people ever and that she wished she could meet them. I simply told her that one day she would, but it’ll be far far away from now. 

Hope to see you later! Please owl back immediately, Vic’s got Ginny’s temper.

xx Bill

“I’ve already owled them my ‘happy birthday’ letter before Chouette came.” Chouette, the owl cooed at the mention of her name. Slightly shuffling her feathers therefore lightly tickling Fred's neck, making him shiver. The haughty owl flew from Fred's shoulder to George's making the younger twin chuckle. 

"Seems like Chouette is telling you to take a bath, mate." George laughed as the back of Fred's hand flew to his forehead. "I got us crepes and bread for breakfast! And you go on and call me stinky?" Fred exclaimed dramatically. 

"How 'bout you be a dear and write to Bill and Fleur that we are going to Vic's party, alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that." George agreed, taking out a roll of parchment from his desk drawer as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. "While I eat my breakfast and write this, will you be a dear and take a bath!" Fred cackled at his younger brother's statement. Though in a bit the sound of water dropping down the shower head echoed through the small flat above the shop.

╰┈➤✎*+:｡.｡⋆·˚ ༘ **ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

School owls poured in as numerous Hogwarts students wanted to take advantage of the annual “54% off ‘End of War’ sale” at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes held in memory of the fallen 50. Because in Fred and George’s philosophy, “...We might not be able to save them, but they can save our customers over 50% off of all our products!”

It seemed insensitive but it’s the thought that counts. They wanted to make sure that their passing didn’t go to waste, even if it is counted as a discount to the famous Diagon Alley shop. 

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were rather busy picking up and shipping out their joke products, sending it to the owls who were perched up in a little area at the back of the store, nibbling on insects Verity; a part of their staff had handed them before sending them back to the school her bosses previously dropped out of. 

It was nearing lunch time when everyone wearing magenta robes stocked up the shelves again, having been sending out owls since 8 in the morning when they heard a clanging from the front doors, signaling that a customer had finally came; A middle aged woman looked starstruck whilst holding onto a young boy that’s slowly getting out of her grip, having the same eagerness as his mother.

It wasn’t unusual for customers to react this way coming into the Weasley’s joke shop. The boy’s eyes sparkled while the mother looked in admiration. The mother crouched down to hold onto her son, keeping him from running while his mouth spilled with words. 

“Mum, we have to get something for Mia!” the boy cried out eagerly, eyes darting towards every single corner of the store. George’s mouth upturned into a sloppy grin whilst listening to the boy. 

“Marty, that’s sweet of you, but we already got the quill she wanted.” The mother said quietly, running her hands over the boy’s shoulders, easing it. “And it’s your birthday...” George didn’t know what came after that as he took the chance and walked towards the small family with a big smile on his face, quickly followed by Fred. 

“Heard it’s a little man’s birthday.” inclined George, hands in his pockets and head down turned. The mother looked up and stood from her spot, giggling slightly as she kept a hold of her son’s shoulders. “What’s your name?” he asked, now being the one to crouch down in front of the boy.

The boy tilted his head to the side, eyes slightly strained. He looked both confused and hyper focused at the same moment. Though weird, George thought nothing of it. After all, he was a kid, the man he’s looking at has one ear, and the hyperfixation was quickly ended by the slight shake of his shoulders. The mother looked down at her son, silently telling him to introduce himself. And so he did. 

"I'm Martin! I turn 6 today!" the boy said enthusiastically,bringing a smile on George's face. Being around Martin felt odd, it felt so unapologetically peaceful and rather… familiar. 

"SIX?!" Fred loudly piped in. "Well now that's big, little man!" 

The mother was slightly startled by the appearance of the ginger's twin, though the same cannot be said about Martin who simply smiled absentmindedly. 

"I knew you before." said Martin, eyes targeting the younger twin. George smiled and kept close to the boy, keeping the conversation going. "Really?" he asked with vivid curiosity, he did not recognise the boy or his mother but fueling a child's imagination wouldn't hurt anyone. 

"How?" piped in Fred, now also crouching beside his twin, "And why just him?" he asked comedically, pointing to his brother. 

"Since we were 11." Answered Martin with no signs of struggle on his face. The red haired owners looked at each other, though more in disbelief than in confusion. 

"Thought you said you were 6, Martin?" George asked with a kind look on his face. The boy’s mother shook her son’s shoulder harder than she did the past few times, mumbling “Marty, what did I tell you?” in tired disbelief.

“M’sorry mum.” Martin said with a pinch of sincerity before turning back to face the bigger man in front of him. “I was 20 before I became 6.” “Marty.”

Chilling, the owners thought. As they were 20 at the time of the battle of Hogwarts. 

“I’m so sorry Mr.--”

“Weasley.” Fred replied as the confusion simmered throughout his twin brother. “S’really nothing to worry about Mrs.--?”

“Edevane. But I truly am sorry, he’s just a very imaginative little kid. Always has stories of his quote-unquote ‘past life’.“ she explained, making the kid become a bit mad. “But mum, it’s true!-”

“Marty, how about we look around the store, alright? Mr. and Mr. Weasley could show us around perhaps?” Mrs. Edevane hinted to the twin owners, relief gracing their legs as they were now able to stand on their feet. 

“Yes, we can certainly do that! Come along Marty, tell us more about this ‘past life’ of yours.” Fred’s arm wrapped around the small boy’s shoulders, showing him around the color filled shop. “Sorry about that Mrs. Edevane.” he added mischievously, “Here at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, we like to encourage creativity and imagination.”

“--As it is the reason we got here.” George finished, giving Mrs. Edevane a kind smile as they start roaming around the shop. “Uhh. Mr. Weasley.” Her fingers tapped onto George’s shoulder. His head whipped around and mouth about to open when suddenly the 6 year old spoke; “Mum, Mr. Weasley’s name is George. This one’s Fred.”

The utter shock that went through the twin wizards was clear as day. No where in the shop did it say the owner’s names. Even their name tags; The little badge pinned on their suits merely wrote ‘Mr. Weasley’. Fred, being the initiator that he is, leaned forward. “Now how can you be so sure, Marty?” he teased, “What if I tell you that you’re wrong?”

Martin simply smiled, angling his head a bit to the side again. “Mr. George has a longer face, down turned eyes and eyebrows, he’s a bit taller than you, Mr. Fred. You have a squarer face and shorter features than him.” he explained smoothly and innocently. As if it’s something he’s observed over the course of his whole life.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid your son’s a genius.” George joked, even if he’s visibly disturbed, though nonetheless intrigued. Nobody has ever differentiated them this way, even their own mother. Though one person did. The one he cherished most. The mother smiled, holding onto her son once again. 

“I’m no genius.” Martin spoke, a shy smile gracing his small little lips, so identical to the person’s portrait above George’s bed. He even said their typical response to their mind being praised. 

“-- I just quietly observe.”

Martin spoke but George merely whispered. A shiver ran through his spine, heart pumping, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. It could’ve all been a coincidence. One big coincidence served on a silver platter, garnished with confusion and terrifying accuracy. 

“Mr. Weasley?”

He snapped back, giving the woman a sign to continue. “Uh, I just wanted to ask... err. Why that big of a discount? Why is it 54% off of everything? That doesn’t really sound like a good marketing strategy, doesn’t it?” She asked curiously. 

“Well Mrs. Edevane.” George started, seeing as Fred and little Martin were still going around the shop. “Remember the last wizarding war?” Mrs. Edevane shook her head. His smile faltered a bit but still kept his composure. “We’re, what you call it? Muggle--born?” Her eyebrows furrowed while her teeth sinked into her bottom lip. “Well, my daughter... err. Just started her first year and that McGonagall woman said that she’s a ‘muggleborn’.” 

They truly didn’t know who they are.

“-- What I’m trying to say, Mr. Weasley, is that we, or at least I, am not magical. Nor is my husband.” He nodded, breathed in a bit as his mind tried to ease itself. The boy couldn’t have known who he is as they wouldn’t have known anything about the prophet, or could they?

“Well, Mrs. Edevane. 7 years ago at this date. The second wizarding war has ended. My brother-in-law defeated... him.” It was still hard to say his name, even years later. “V-Voldemort.”

She looked curious but silently let him continue. “Uh, remember when. Uh-uhm that bridge collapsed in muggle london? 7-8 years ago? A big hurricane happened? When a lot died like-” It was hard to explain. Truly. It was hard to live through it again.

“Like that Emmeline Vance lady?”

“Yes, exactly!” He exclaimed. “It was all caused by him. By wizards! Dark wizards!” Her previously bright face now looked horror struck. It was all making sense. “Seven years ago, this day. Everything ended at Hogwarts. As well as the lives of 54 on our side.” He wanted to mention one very special loss, but figured that she doesn’t need to know about it. She was just a muggle mother who brought her son birthday shopping. “We wanted to commemorate them.”

A sincere look graced upon her face, out of pity. “Is there any chance that you’ve seen anything from the ‘Daily Prophet’, Mrs. Edevane? Or your son?” He asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She shook her head, now gracing a look with pure confusion. “A-Anything. Like a paper? A newspaper with moving photographs? Or maybe a-a Quibbler?”

She shook her head. “Why’re you asking Mr. Weasley?” His mouth opened, about to burst out his concerns and held in grief to a complete stranger when; “George!”

It was Fred, hand resting on his twin’s shoulder as the six year old boy beside him just stood. “-- Can I talk to you? I need to talk to you.” He said, fright gracing his features and panic in his voice. 

George nodded, bidding a quick goodbye to the mother and son who came in a few moments ago and calling for one of their faculty to give them the tour they wanted.

Fred pulled his twin to an empty corner of the shop. Sound muffled by the stacks of products ranging from fireworks to extendable ears. “That boy George.” Fred panted. Voice shaking. “He knows too much. Is there a chance that you put anything about how Y/N saved me?”

“Briefly. Why?” His heart was about to pop out of his chest at any moment. Any moment now his heart would be a new WWW product. 

“He explained everything! Everything George! Knew things that he shouldn’t have!” Fred said, terrified. “What did he say?” asked George. Croaking out whatever’s left in his heaving lungs. 

“He said that he saved me. Me and Percy! From the explosion! I didn’t think much of it at first, George! I knew that you wrote that in their obituary. But he just kept going.” Frightened. They were both frightened. “Everything they did. He knew.”

“How accurate was he?”

“Very. George. Disturbingly accurate.” Back straightened and composed, Fred stood back, eyes darting back and forth from his brother to the entrance of the shop. “He knew that they transfigured the rubble to sand. He knew that they cast that ring of fire shit they did. The diabolica thing to ward off the death eaters? Yeah. He named the spell. HE NAMED THE SPELL, GEORGE!”

“I heard you the first time!” George yelled back. Disturbed, yet he felt at peace. He could have the last goodbye he’s always wanted. “We need to talk to the boy, Fred.”

His twin nodded fervently, about to walk away from the corner when he felt an arm tug on his elbow. “Oi, how can we do it without worrying the mother?”

“Give whatever he wants for free. It’s his birthday after all. Now come on!”

╰┈➤✎*+:｡.｡⋆·˚ ༘ **ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Luke’s Debut Edition

SERIES MASTERLIST

idk the dates they lived in toronto so this is my diy timeline now tysm

this seems moot now but it’s fine

TUESDAY, APRIL 11TH

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, and 8,643 others

yourusername tonight was a very special night for the hughes family, a family i’m proud to say has become my own. tonight, my favorite little brother, my favorite (for tonight) son, and one of my best friends whom i love so dearly had his nhl debut tonight and i couldn’t be more proud of him!

i remember sitting with you at jack’s draft and telling you, “that’ll be you next!” i sat in the stands during your games back when you were in elementary school and i remember you running straight to me after your team won post losing a few games in a row. you told me that you’d win for me next game i went to; and you did! you ran right past jim and ellen and shouted, “sissy, i told you i’d win for you!” i’m crying writing this out but it was too pure to not share during this moment. you won for me tonight, too, bubs❤️

i’ve seen you annihilate the collegiate hockey world, and now i get to watch you do the same in the nhl. it was a privilege to sit in those stands tonight and watch you take your solo rookie lap, and i hope you know how hard i cried over it. we’ve been waiting for this day since the day i met you all. i was there for quinn’s debut, i was there for jack’s, but being there for yours is a memory that beats them all. maybe it’s because i feel like a proud older sister and i’m younger than the other two, or maybe it’s because of how good our bond is. whatever it is, i will never stop being proud of you. you’re going to be golden, lukey moosey, and i hope you’re excited for it. i love you so much!

p.s. i can’t end without say congratulations to my soulmate! he best a 22 year devils record tonight with his 43rd goal! poetic, isn’t it? i’m proud of you and love you so much, jacky boy <3

with love,

sissy❤️ #RaiseHell

tagged lhughes_06

view all 411 comments

lhughes_06 sissy, you’re going to make me cry! i love you too❤️

yourusername hurry home then and cry with me while we watch quintin!!

lhughes_06 tell your ex husband to get ready faster!

yourusername brb

dylanduke25 you DID make me cry, sissy! so proud of you luke!

yourusername i’ll let the sissy pass because it’s a special day! i miss you, duker!

dylanduke25 i miss you, too!

lhughes_06 thank you, duker!

user6 hughes curse broken…?

_alexturcotte so proud of you lil bro! you are the superior hughes! @/lhughes_06💯💯

yourusername me and ellen are the superior hughes’s but it’s lukey moosey’s night so i’ll let it slide

lhughes_06 thank you, turc! miss you!

lhughes_06 @/yourusername you really are the superior hughes

jackhughes facts

_alexturcotte facts

_quinnhughes facts

user92 the stories in the caption i can’t

jackhughes i am beyond proud of you, lukey! you’re going to do amazing things for the devils and the league! love you! (sissy, please don’t have us all crying on the couch)

lhughes_06 thanks, jacky! love you, too. (you’ve met sissy, right?)

yourusername (reminder that lukey moosey said the same thing to me after his first umich win)

jackhughes (FUCK)

_quinnhughes (i don’t cry, so don’t make me)

lhughes_06 (psa i did tell sissy i’d win for her tonight just like that game)

_quinnhughes (this is fine)

umichhockey that’s our boy!

user77 i’m crying oh my god

edwards.73 @/lhughes_06 we all watched your game together! so proud of you, bro! can’t wait to join you!

yourusername lukey’s debut already killed me don’t remind me of yours! rude head

lhughes_06 thank you, eddy! you’ll love it here!

edwards.73 @/yourusername i’m sorry…?

lhughes_06 @/edwards.73 correct

yourusername @/edwards.73 i accept your apology, child number two

user6 new lore just dropped and it’s a tear jerker😭 so proud of you, luke!

_quinnhughes i remember that game! he was excited for days after. i’m proud of you, lukey! i’ll be hiding in the stands during playoffs! i love you! @/lhughes_06

lhughes_06 i love you, too, quinny

yourusername big brother of the year alert (kinda)

jackhughes @/yourusername you can sleep outside

yourusername @/jackhughes mom would have you sleep outside before me

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes that is true

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes stone cold fact

user22 congratulations luke!

trevorzegras @/lhughes_06 i’m proud of you, bud! congratulations on your debut! go ahead and cry my girlfriend out so she runs out of tears when she comes home!

lhughes_06 thanks, z! and i’ll break out more elementary school me stories for you

trevorzegras thank you for your service🫡

yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras we aren’t friends/dating/siblings/mom and son for the next fifteen minutes

trevorzegras @/lhughes_06 look what you did

lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras LOOK WHAT YOU DID

user38 i might be crying harder than y/n

yourusername you can try, but you will not succeed

nicohischier proud of you, luke! can’t wait to see what you do here!

lhughes_06 thank you!

yourusername nico!!! light of my life!!! welcome to my comment section!!! i love you sm come cuddle!!

nicohischier @/yourusername i love you, too! and okay, sure

jackhughes @/nicohichier careful she clings

jamie.drysdale @/jackhughes when did she start climbing under shirts to cuddle

jackhughes @/jamie.drysdale quinn

_quinnhughes she was scared of storms when she was younger, okay! @/jackhughes @.jamie.drysdale

mackie.samo go little rockstar

lhughes_06 heading for our last fight before our worlds part

yourusername that lyric would’ve been suitable post frozen four semi finals but do your thing baby smurf

lhughes_06 i will thank you

mackie.samo he will thank you

_quinnhughes added this to their story

jackhughes added this to their story

[yurimother]

An Update on YuriMother

As I'm sure many of you have noticed, there has been a distinct lack of my regular news coverage and articles as of late. I recently moved and started working at a new school (for those who do not know, teaching is my day job). While I love this job, it has considerably taxed my time and energy, which compounded with my strained focus and dedication that was already affecting the volume of my content, resulting in the near month-long silence.

However, I hope to recommit myself to YuriMother, as nothing in my life brings me more joy than my work with Yuri, and I want to continue celebrating the genre as I have for the past 11 years. This means resuming coverage of Yuri news stories, conducting more research, writing more reviews and articles, filming videos for TikTok, and working towards some of my personal larger goals for YuriMother.

Rather than going back and trying to cover everything I have missed over the past month, I am posting an article with a quick roundup of many major Yuri manga and light novel releases. The rest of the news slate is planned out for the week with, of course, room for any new stories that break. Additionally, I have several articles of varying scope, both for the main YuriMother website and for the Patreon exclusive "Secret Garden" line, at different stages of conceptualization and research. I look forward to drafting and editing these soon. Some are pieces that have floated around my head for over a year, and the prospect of finally putting them to page for you all to enjoy and learn from delights me.

I also created a poll on Patreon for members and the public, whether they subscribe to me or not, to decide the subject of my next review. Perhaps more than anything, I am thrilled by the prospect of actually reading Yuri again, as I practically have not consumed anything since I spent the majority of July burning through over a hundred webcomics and several times that amount in dollars because forget those free period wait times, I've got lesbians to fangirl over, for the 2023 Yuri Guide. There are so many incredible new titles and returning series sitting on my bookshelf, or more accurately, sitting in or on top of moving boxes next to my as-of-yet unassembled bookshelf, that I am thrilled to share with you.

Lastly, I want to thank you all for your continued support and patience with me during this time. I know many of you back me, and my work with your hard-earned money,  a fact which persistently baffles and humbles me, and I acknowledge that I have not always lived up to my end of that relationship.

I cannot promise that I will be perfect or that there will not be times when I struggle to deliver YuriMother content, but I can at least assure you that I will try my best every day and once again express my enormous gratitude to all of you. Thank you, everyone, especially my wonderful Patrons, for your engagement, kindness, support, and love of Yuri.

Sincerely,

Nicki Bauman The Holy Mother of Yuri

As always, if you can, consider joining the YuriMother on Patreon. Patrons can check out news, reviews, and articles early, get access to exclusive content like "The Secret Garden" an series of essays all about Yuri , and help support me and my work celebrating Yuri anime and magna.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

Happy WIP Wednesday!!

So apparently some of y'all have been busy and well I'm gonna get this in now before I don't get a chance to because while it's still rough draft, this bit of 'baby just say yes' (that tswift fairytale) is really quite cute and deserves to be seen by more than just me b4 April

so thank you @adreamareads @stellarm @duchessdepolignaca03 @suseagull04 @sophie1973 @england-would-fall so much for the tags I am so excited to read what ya posted ❤️

Prince Alex is still ten years of age when it happens, just days before Prince Henry is to turn twelve, they are practicing their magic lessons together in the garden, learning how to wield their magic together. They are working on a lesson they learned from Prince Henry’s parents, Princess Catherine and Royal Earl Arthur, on strengthening each other’s magic. They have been working at it for quite some time to no avail, and young princes are growing frustrated when there is a sudden poof! of magic between them.  Prince Alex closes his eyes at the flash of light accompanying the burst of magic, and when he opens them, Henry is no longer sitting in front of him. The young prince lets out a screech that he denies whenever the story is retold as he feels something small jump in his lap. The young prince looks down, and the most adorable, almost-blonde kitten is staring up at him; the kitten's eyes look like Henry’s shade of blue in them. The prince is so excited to show Henry the kitten when he finds out where he is. When Arthur finds him, Alex is still sitting with the kitten curled up in his arms, petting and kissing its adorable face. The magic emanating from the area gives some indication of what happened, but he asks anyway, “Alex, where is Henry? I was under the impression the two of you were out here practicing.” Alex sets the kitten into his lap and looks up; the fear in his young eyes is evident to any who takes a moment to look. “Well, we were practicing, working on some of the tandom magic you and Catherine showed us, and - something happened. I don’t know what, but there was a poof!” Alex says with an exaggerated movement of his arms, continuing, “And I closed my eyes because of the very bright light, and then when I opened them, Henry wasn’t here, and this adorable kitten was instead. I may have gotten a little distracted when we were working, and now I don’t know where Henry is.” Alex stops speaking when the kitten starts to bat at his arms, which are still moving around. He picks the kitten back up into his arms, and it snuggles into his chest. Arthur barely has to use any of his magic to know that the kitten Alex is so attached to is his son, Henry. The young prince, Alex, is devastated when he is told that his friend, his best friend, other than his sister, June, is now a kitten. He is so smitten with the kitten that he only lets it out of his sight when he falls asleep. He deems it his job to care for Kitty Hen as he has taken to calling the kitten; after all, he blames himself for the magic mishap that caused the change. Alex spends his days at the palace in Windsor caring for his friend; he asks his favorite cook in the kitchen to help him make a cat-friendly cake for Henry when it’s obvious that he won’t be turning back before his birthday. He finds only the best tuna for his friend, which he finds funny because he’s never known his friend to eat tuna when in human form. Alex brings Kitty Hen with him everywhere and sometimes swears to those around them that the kitten is trying to communicate with him; the prince has yet to figure out how to understand the cat, though. The Prince has found that if the kitten must do his business inside, he will attempt to climb onto the toilet rather than use the litter box that has been provided. This leads to Alex finding the kitten fallen into the toilet the first day, and from then on, he has spent almost every waking moment he can outside with the kitten to give it somewhere it won’t fall into to do his business. If when Henry is in human form, Alex gets them into most of the scrapes they get into, then in kitten form, Henry is definitely making up for that - as Alex follows the kitten everywhere, and kittens have a much easier time getting around unseen. Every time Alex receives a scolding for one of their adventures, the kitten that is his friend climbs into his lap and purrs until he forgives him, only to do it all again.

Ok so some no-pressure tags going out to (if you've already posted - just saying 'hi' cuz well I didn't check today) @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @dragonflylady77 @firenati0n @firstprinces @forever-fixating @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @nocoastposts @piratefalls @priincebutt @sunnysideprince @taste-thewaste @typicalopposite and bcuz it's relevant to our convo @littlemisskittentoes

[petrichor-idyllic]

Vol and Friends Information | The Maze Runner Fanfic Concept

This is a character and idea I wrote a long time ago and found sitting in my drafts. So, I figured I would finally share her with you guys. Character writing is my thing and I thought I should post something since I've been so inactive.

UNIVERSE WRITING NOTES

As most of you know, the Maze Runner movies and books are actually quite different from each other. Of course, I prefer the books but there are some things I think the movies do better, so I've decided to use aspects from both the books and the movies to use in this potential fanfiction.

From the Movies

Takes a couple of days to recall names.

Layout of the Glade/the Maze is the same.

Characters look like their Movie counterparts for the sake of simplicity.

The Grievers look how they're depicted.

Alby is kinder and less brutal like how he's depicted in the movies.

The Gladers have been there for three years (as of the arrival of Thomas, the story starts a year before the end.)

From the Books

The Beetle Blades exist and are how the Creators observe the Glade.

Thomas and Teresa have their telepathic connection and psychic style dreams/flashbacks exist.

Minho is more sarcastic like how he is depicted in the book.

Grievers don't only come out at night. Whilst not as common, Grievers are active during the day. The Runners have encountered them many times.

The Changing isn't rare to go through and the Gladers already have the serum provided by the Creators.

The Box comes up once a week with supplies and once a month with a new Greenie.

I thought it would be smart to clarify and show the best aspects of both media.

GENERAL CHARACTER INFORMATION

Protagonist Name: Vol

Named after: Voltaire; François-Marie Arouet, also known as M. de Voltaire was a French Enlightment writer, historian and philosopher in the 1700s. He was famous for his wit, and his criticism of Christianity (especially of the Roman Catholic Church) and of slavery. Voltaire was an advocate of freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and separation of church and state.

Subject: A0 "The Trespasser"

Sex: Female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Age: 17-19, exact age is unknown

Job: Builder, then later a Med-jack

Appearance:

Face claim: Iva Varvarchuk

About 5'4" with a slim but lean build, she has white skin with freckles and some scarring. She has brown almond eyes and dark eyebrows. She has short, slightly messy brown hair that is often tied half up half down or pulled back in a tight messy french braid. She wears whatever clothes she can get her hands on, but is normally seen wearing the worn leather jacket and off-white hoodie combo that she came up in the box in. She also can be found wearing the grey tank top and baggy cargo pants she arrived in.

Personality: Vol is fiery and critical with a slight violent streak and a drive to do what's right. She believes strongly in equality and that she is just as capable as her male counterparts. She has no problem putting the boys in their places if they stare for too long or make an inappropriate comment. She often gets in arguments for her beliefs and ideas and isn't above going against the Keepers and Alby to get her point across. She's often described as "too smart for her own good"; her intelligence and quick nature often being a tense point in the Glade. Her intelligence is also exaggerated by her suspiciously good biology knowledge. She's very easily frustrated, especially when people don't listen to her. Despite being very critical and harsh, she can't always take what she dishes out; Vol struggles to take valid criticism and is quick to become defensive as she takes most things to heart. Due to her politically charged nature, she's often routing for the underdog and has a soft spot for Greenies and struggling Gladders- she's almost always willing to risk her mental and physical health for anyone that needs it. She's also beyond willing to jump to anyone's defence should she believe they need it. Because of this, she becomes somewhat of a big sister figure in the Glade- caring but sarcastic and occasionally violent. When she's around the few people she actually looks up to/admires, she becomes more relaxed. She's genuinely witty and often makes jokes that go over people's heads, but she's not nearly as reckless and cutthroat. She tries to lighten the mood after rough days and try and lift spirits, especially after the dreary repetition the Runners go through. She even makes flirty comments and jokes just to watch the boys squirm. Though, the pressure can get too much, especially after certain events skyrocket her into more popularity and conflict than she'd already managed.

OTHER ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

LEO

Name: Leo

Named after: Leonardo Da Vinci - Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (15 April 1452 – 2 May 1519) was an Italian polymath of the High Renaissance who was active as a painter, draughtsman, engineer, scientist, theorist, sculptor, and architect.

Subject: A17 "The Deliquent"

Sex: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 16 - 18

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship to Vol: Friend

Job: Slicer

Appearance:

Face Claim: Benjamin Wadsworth

About 5'11" and with a pretty strong build. He has tanned skin and several scars and can often be found stained with blood.

Personality: He's extroverted and boisterous, often causing problems and liking being the centre of attention. He's weak-willed and doesn't seem to care about leaving as much as the other boys. He doesn't get along with Minho and most of the Runners for this reason. He's a thorn in Alby's side and has a record for breaking most of the rules- the Slammer is basically his home. He can be incredibly overprotective and forward with his feelings and opinions. He loves to argue and get a rise out of people. He is a definition problem child.

OTTO

Name: Otto

Named after: Otto Hahn - a German Scientist known as the "Father of nuclear chemistry."

Subject: A23 "The Shield"

Sex: Male

Pronouns: He/they (the latter going unused in the Glade)

Age: 16 - 18

Sexuality: Homosexual

Relationship to Vol: Best friend/found brother

Job: Track-hoe

Appearance:

Face Claim: Unknown model

About 6'1" and very skinny. He has slightly crooked teeth and a slit in his eyebrow.

Personality: Otto is more timid and introverted than his counterparts. He lives is Vol and Leo's shadow, opting to just be known as the boy that came up with the girl than making a name for himself. He's kind of a pushover and can be talked into pretty much anything. He kind of a hopeless romantic but he's fueled by logic, providing a much needed level-headedness to his friends, especially when Vol is worked up and willing to go along with Leo's schemes.

DALTON

Name: Dalton

Named after: John Dalton - An English chemist best know for introducing the atomic theory into chemistry.

Subject: A19 "The Statue"

Sex: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Asexual/Aromantic

Relationship to Vol: Friend/Body Guard

Job: Bulider

Appearance:

Face claim: Mukasa Kakonge

About 6'4" and well-built. He towers over most of the other Gladers. Has a lot of scars on his hands from his job.

Personality: Dalton is the quietest one of the group. He prefers to stick to himself and the only reason he's social at all is because Leo was the Greenie before him, and had to show him around - now they're friends. Though, unlike Otto, he isn't timid. He has a very intimidating presence and simply doesn't care for the Gladers' conversations or opinions. He is very protective of the people he does care about, though, and isn't scared to intervene when the others get themselves in trouble.

RELATIONSHIPS TO VOL

Friends

Otto: After waking up in the Box, Otto was lost and dazed but had enough common sense to try and wake up the teenage girl who was also passed out. After that, Vol took to protecting her timid friend and is often the more offensive of the pair despite her being the odd one out. Otto is the only person she truly trusts because they're the only person that she's knows for sure is in the same situation as her.

Leo: Vol meets Leo during her trial as a Slicer. He offers her advice and helps out, giving her tricks and ways to make the job easier. He's also the person that convinced Vol to ask Newt about becoming a Med-jack due to her anatomy knowledge. He's more laid-back than most of the Gladers around her so she gains some respect for him and they quickly become friends. Though, Leo quickly shows himself as a bad influence, causing problems in Vol's other relationships. But, due to Leo's unfaltering loyalty, she sticks by him.

Dalton: He kind of came as a deal package with Leo. Vol wasn't sure what to think of him at first, but Dalton proved to be a big softy that would crush anyone that got too close to her, and the pair became close fairly quickly.

Newt: Like most of the Gladers, his relationship with Vol is few and far between as she's got her own little group and she chooses to spend time with them. That being said, Newt is probably one of her more favoured people in the Glade. He's one of the most respectful Gladers and he helps where he's needed, even if he can be sarcastic and nihilistic.

Alby: Alby is more of a leader than a friend to Vol, probably because he is. Though, he does have a soft spot for the girl and sees the same admirable traits in her that he saw in Minho when he first assigned him as the Keeper of the Runners. He tends to keep an eye on her so that he can make sure none of the boys are causing her problems.

Frypan: Due to his small crush on the girl, Frypan is very kind and understanding towards Vol, often letting her vent and giving her extra food under the table. Because of his kindness, Vol occasionally helps out in the kitchen, even delivering and making food for the Runners before they go out into the Maze for the day.

Chuck: She becomes somewhat a mother figure to Chuck, her need to protect and look after him coming to the forefront of their relationship. She's definitely one of Chuck's favourite people in the Glade.

Jeff and Clint: Her coworkers who try and keep her out of trouble. She likes them both equally and appreciates their help and the lack of questioning of her abilities.

Love Interest: Minho

Kinda Enemies to Lovers.

They got off to a bad start when Vol tried to escape the Glade on her first day and Minho had to stop her.

She punched him in the jaw and had a meltdown.

She tried to apologise once she'd calmed down (and Ably made her) but Minho was just sarcastic and bitter. Due to her stubborn nature, she insulted him and stormed off.

Leo's negative opinion of the Runners only adds to this.

Tension lies in physical attraction and occasional staring at first.

Minho comes to admire her morals.

She comes to admire his work ethic.

The pair argue for fun, but no one else seems to notice the spark behind their sarcastic exchanges.

Alby thinks they don't like each other because they're too similar.

Which is exactly why Newt thinks they do like each other.

Other

Gally: The pair got off to a rough start on her trail as a Builder, and then later arguments during her time as a Builder, so there is some tension between them. She eventually comes to admire Gally and his passionate and caring ways, even if he doesn't show it in the best way. She finally starts to respect him as a Keeper, even if their frenemy status still remains.

Thomas: A late arrival to the Glade, she tried to be kind to Thomas when he appears but since he moves at a million miles an hour and is more reckless than she is, she's normally too busy to spend time listening to his antics.

Teresa: Initially, she was beyond pleased to have another girl in the Glade, but overall they don't spend much time together apart from Vol attempting to befriend the girl, who's all too interested in thinking up ideas with Thomas.

Ben: Since he's a Runner and spends a lot of time with Minho, the pair have had a fair few conversations and he witnesses a lot of arguments. He actually likes siding with her because he enjoys annoying Minho. But she wouldn't exactly consider him a friend.

Winston: He's a Glader she sees around and doesn't really talk to. He seems nice enough and she has nothing against him.

Zart: The same applies to Zart as it does Winston.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Six-sentence Sunday:

All the colours look brighter now

“I am back!” Silence. Kazuki tried again. “I am home, you guys!?” Still no answer, until Kazuki noticed the chaos.

Not at all surprised that the loft was not in tiptop condition when he returned, he finally accepted how slovenly his little family was. It was time to teach them how to do the housework. He eyed at the kid’s toys that were scattered on the floor. The discarded pizza boxes decorated the dining table and the carpet. Half-consumed soda in grimy bottles and cans. Cups and glasses were everywhere. And the little girl’s coat and daycare bag were still lying on the now dried floor. Truth to tell, the chaos was an eyesore. It reminded him of the day he got a first glimpse of Rei’s living condition back when they were not roommates yet. It was their fifth mission, and, for a change, Rei invited him to his loft albeit reluctantly after “destroying” Kazuki’s flat unplanned courtesy of the goons who managed to follow Rei when the latter stole their money.

Where are those two rascals anyway?

The apartment seemed empty except for the detritus of life that were present in front of him.

He searched all the rooms saved for Miri’s sleeping chamber.

When he finally went up to see it, he opened the door slowly and was a bit skeptic. He was still feeling cross, dejected, mind. Expecting boisterous laughter and raucous blabbering coming from an energetic four-year-old girl, there was utter silence. Kazuki raised his left eyebrow.

What’s happening here?

Read the rest on AO3.

* I managed to expand a bit and posted this short story on AO3. This has been sitting on my drafts for more than half a year. To celebrate the first anniversary of Buddy Daddies, I offer you this. Lily might be busy with their other projects (Blue Exorcist for one), but we are still lucky that they don’t forget us even if PA Works might have. May we have more illustrations from Lily. Happy Anniversary of one whole year of Buddy Daddies!!! So vote for this family as an anime wild card !

[bonny-kookoo]

hii bonny 🤍

i‘m also very curious about what happened in crossroads can you maybe still post what is in your drafts 🥺

This is a random scene from my notes on my phone, set somewhere (I think? It's been a long time since I wrote those notes..) after his (failed) tattoo appointment. It was unfinished, so I cut off the last part of it that was a little scrambled and ended in an open sentence haha.

Only a warning for angst, being drunk and smoking. That's it.

It's not hard to realize that he's not the same person you used to go out with years ago- if not just by the way he visually changed, but also internally.

Still- if you had the ability to open up his chest and repair all the damage done to his back then soft heart, you'd do it in a beat of your very own with no questions asked. Then again, maybe you shouldn't- maybe you should just leave him alone just like you were told to years back. Did it do any good?

Did he grow up well? Are his piercings and tattoos his choice, or were they just a decision of rebellion against his parents after you left?

Had you already fucked him up too much to have someone save him?

"Hey- oh, you're cold." He notices the second his warm hand finds your rather cooled down, naked skin fleetingly, before he sits down next to you on the large rock in Taehyung's backyard. The music is still booming inside the house, and everyone's clearly conversing and having fun- so why is Jungkook out here with you of all people?

Especially after avoiding you like the plague?

"It's fine." You say, pulling your knees up to your chest, heels of your shoes scraping a bit before they find hold on an edge. He runs his fingers through your hair, his cheeks a bit reddened and nose shiny from the alcohol he still holds in his hand, before he sets down the beer bottle into the grass in front of him. "I get a headache from the loud music." You mumble, looking at a frog jumping into a bush. Taehyung fails to really maintain a proper garden- everything's wild and untamed back here, and you actually like the sight.

"I swear he keeps turning it louder every song." Jungkook chuckles, clearing his throat before he pulls out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes- offering you one that you take rather reluctantly. You're not sure when he started to smoke- but you won't question it either, just as much as he doesn't question if you still smoke or not, apparently. "I won't stay much longer. They're getting too wasted for my taste.." He mumbles to himself, before he lights his cigarette- holding out the lighter to you. "Taehyung keeps kissing people on the cheek."

"Well, you're pretty bad already too." You sigh, lighting your own for yourself before you give it back to him-

noticing the pink glued yarn on it, right before he snatches it back to put it into the small cardboard box he stuffs in the front pocket of his blue sweater.

Does he know that he still keeps something of you with himself?

Or did he forget that it was yours years back?

"Not really, no." Jungkook laughs, though he does rub his eyes a little, and it stings because his timing to your thoughts couldn't be anymore painful. "Really. Why do you think I'm drunk?" He accuses with a slightly playful hint in his tone that you don't feel fits the moment.

"Cause you're out here with me." You simply tell him, avoiding eye contact because he's been avoiding you the entire night until now.

"Hm, you have a point." He shrugs, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his fingers before he continues. "I can't handle you when my brain works, I guess." He laughs, and you just silently smoke next to him, watching the ash from it fly off with red sparks every time you flick it off. "I wanna ask you why you left." He says, lowly, seriously, and now you start to feel the cold too.

Or maybe it's just him.

"But I'm not drunk enough to do that." He chuckles, leaning back a little, moving his neck until it cracks- a habit he still has.

"Is that why you're here now?" You ask quietly, worried about his answer, somewhat- but at the same time, you're already scolding yourself for not letting it go. "So I tell you without you having to ask?" You continue nevertheless, brain too fogged up from the amount of alcohol to really sustain the ability to think thoughts quietly it seems like.

"No." He shakes his head, before he huffs out a long drag of smoke. "I just wanna.. pretend? Remember? Fuck." He laughs to himself, face in his hands for a good moment, cigarette burning on it's own tucked between to fingers.

It takes you a moment to realize he's probably crying. Or trying not to. You can't tell.

"Can't you at least say sorry?" He suddenly says, and once his hands are gone from his face, you can finally spot all the lights from the inside of the house behind you reflect in his glassy eyes like they're mirrored. His tears don't fall until he blinks-

then they're gone again, the lights and the tears, frustration replacing all of it, shaking you awake especially when you realize he's looking right at you.

"I can't." You tell him, bottom lip quivering as you keep it together the best you can. "I can... only say sorry for not being able to say sorry." You laugh, and he shakes his head.

"So you just.. left, fucked me over, and you don't regret that at all?" He argues so softly it hurts. It would feel a lot better if he yelled at you- because you can deal with anger, with resentment and all of that, you grew up with it, it's normal-

this isn't. You don't know what to do.

"Never said I didn't regret it." You deny, killing the burning cigarette bud by scratching it over the rock you're sitting on. "...I just can't say sorry for something I.. didn't do." You deny, and at that, he looks at you standing up, hugging yourself, before your heels sink into the soft ground, making you trip-

and him get up too quickly as he stumbles just as much, almost falling into the bushes with you if it wasn't for the flimsy fence your back hits instead, his hands on either side of you, face right next to yours.

"What did they do to you?" He asks, and you want to scream, yell, call police or whatever just to get out of it-

because you can handle him hating you. You're okay with him using you as the villain and reason he ended up mending his relationship with his parents. You can handle being the breaking point of the young Jungkook who finally woke up and realized that his parents and home had always been trying to help him. You can handle that.

But you can't handle tearing all of that apart. Not because he doesn't deserve the truth, but because you won't get a happily ever after anyways.

"They had something to do with it." He keeps going, only slowly giving you space again, and suddenly you want him close again, just so you don't have to look at him. "I know they did-"

"Jungkook-" You start, when you hear the door of the house opening, glass door swinging open, some people laughing as they walk out as well, shattering whatever moment just transpired between you both as you slip right underneath his arm. "I should get home now." You tell him with a tight-lipped somewhat smile, but his face is dangerous.

"Hoseok drives you home, right?" He asks, and you nod, unsure. "Cool." He says, completely catching you off guard as he walks past you. "I'll tell him you wanna go. I'll just go and say bye to Taehyung." He says, making you look after him confused, before you realize.

Hoseok mentioned he'd drop someone off on the way to your place.

And apparently you now know who that someone might be.