#we have five more pages btw

[llumimoon]

I just sketched out the last comic page of The Talk…….. the end is in sight guys

[angelfic]

— IT’S SO SWEET

pairing: jason todd x best friend!reader

summary: the 3 times jason takes care of you and the 1 time he lets you do the same. alternatively, jason thinks he's invincible, but his best friend needs to be protected at all costs.

warnings: unedited. again. pls don't kill me. swearing, kissing, mentions of blood/weapons/injuries, mentions of periods, reader is a nursing student, best friends to lovers!!! <3

author’s note: *shoves it at you* another one of these fics with the same format, this time with jason :) listen to 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex while reading this btw. and let me know what you think!! drop an ask or a message, don’t be shy!💌

1. when finals are going to kill you.

Sometimes you think being a vigilante like your best friend is worth the constant risk of dying if it means you never have to open another textbook again. When you voice this to Jason, he scowls like you've just threatened to kill a kitten in front of him.

"That's not funny. Don't even joke about that," he scolds, still frowning at you from the opposite end of your kitchen island. His Red Hood suit is sprawled out in front of him as he stitches up a loose hem, compliments of the last goon he most likely beat to a pulp. You make a face at the fact that his sleeve is covering your anatomy notes, ignoring the way he leans down in attempt to catch your eye. He resorts to snapping his fingers in your face. "Hey. Hey, I'm serious."

"Jason," you sigh, setting down your pen and resting your chin on your hand as you talk to him. "I'm studying for nursing school finals in my kitchen, because I didn't want to walk the five more steps it takes to get to my bedroom after making instant ramen. Do you really need me to tell you I'm not being serious about becoming a vigilante?"

His shoulders relax very slightly, but his expression stays annoyed. "You're going to give me an entire head of grey hair before I'm even thirty."

"Well, at least we know it'll suit you," you say through a yawn as you point to the white streak running through his hair. "So, if anything, you're welcome."

He gives you another withering glare, going back to his stitching. The tiny needle in his large hand distracts you for a minute until you realise that Jason has stopped sewing and you're actually staring into nothing now. He notices your eyes that have glossed over and immediately reaches over to slam your textbook shut, startling you back to attention. It isn't until he does this that you feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, emphasised by the knot in your neck and the cramp in your writing hand.

Jason drags your textbook away from you, along with your notes. You take a second to appreciate how careful he is not to crease the pages, knowing you'd lose your mind. "Okay, you're done for today."

"Huh?" you mumble stupidly, his words registering in your mind too late and you realise he's just hijacked your study material. "Wh- Hey! Give it back, Jay, I have-"

"Finals, I know. Last I checked, you need to be alive to take finals and I don't see that happening unless you take a nap," he says, voice a little too calm for someone who you're about to pounce on and claw at until you get your textbook back. You sluggishly clamber off your stool and step in front of Jason, who immediately raises his arm to hold your textbook out of reach.

You look up at him and attempt an intimidating glare. "Hand over the textbook, Todd."

Jason raises his eyebrows, huffing out an exasperated laugh. "Lift one of your arms to get the book and its yours."

Your finger doesn't so much as twitch, but you sway a little until you reluctantly accept that maybe he's won this one. And maybe a nap does sound pretty good right now, you think with a groan, dropping your head so it rests on Jason's chest. Your arms hang floppily at your sides. "I'll kick your ass after my nap," you mumble into his shirt.

"I'm terrified," he deadpans, and you hear the thud of the textbook on the counter before his large hands come up to grip your waist so he can walk you backwards to your couch, knowing you well enough to anticipate your grumbles if he were to attempt to take you all the way to your bedroom. You smile into his chest.

"You've met your match, Red," you say as dramatically as you can for someone who's practically the equivalent to a sack of potatoes against Jason right now. When you feel the back of your legs hit the couch, you grip onto the bottom of Jason's shirt and tug at the fabric before he can let you go. "You're my human pillow, where do you think you're going?"

Before he can answer, you nudge him onto the couch and he obediently lies down so you can nestle in next to him and plop your head back onto his warm, muscled chest. You blame your exhaustion for your shameless behaviour.

Despite the tiredness, you can't help irritating Jason just a little bit more. "Hey, Jay. What would my vigilante name be?"

"Shut up," he says without any bite, resting his chin on top of your head. You snicker into his shirt, half delirious with fatigue but awake enough to feel his face moving as he smiles when he thinks you're not looking.

"Something cool. Like Nightwing," you mutter sleepily, poking the bear.

"What? Nightwing is not as cool as-" Jason starts incredulously, but cuts himself off. "Whatever. Go to sleep."

You hum, eyelids feeling heavy and you start drifting off, the last thing you register being Jason's fingertip tracing circles on your back.

When you wake up, Jason and his suit are gone, but you have a blanket tucked around you and a box of your favourite cookies on the coffee table.

2. when, apparently, you aren't immune to the streets of gotham.

Considering you live in the most corrupt city in the world, you probably should be a little more cautious about going out at night. It's not like you don't take precautions, though. Like every woman in Gotham, you're loaded with pepper spray every time you leave the house. Unlike every woman in Gotham, you also have multiple vigilantes in your phone with whom you share your location with.

Even then, you aren't stupid enough to step into any alleyways. You wish that were enough to stay out of trouble, but as soon as you realise the streets have completely emptied while you've been distracted with your thoughts, you start panicking a little.

You're fine, you reassure yourself as you slide your phone out your pocket to pull up your recent texts. You keep your screen open just for some reassurance, gripping the sides of your phone tightly when you hear some distant footsteps.

It's only ten more minutes to the convenience store, so you're more irritated than scared when you hear the footsteps quicken behind you, catching up. Your fingers fumble to text an SOS to Jason, but you accidentally tap send on your chat with Dick instead. With slightly shaky hands, you try and send one to Jason as well, hoping it's gone through when your phone is suddenly knocked out of your hand.

"Oh, for the love of-" you hiss, when you hear the cracking noise of your screen against the pavement and you don't risk reaching down to grab it. Instead, you turn around slowly to face a dark figure, clad in a cliche, all-black outfit and stood in a threatening stance. God, you hate Gotham.

"Hand over your-"

"Wallet, money, most prized possession," you cut the man off, probably very stupidly. "I know the drill, hang on."

He falters for a moment before anger clouds his expression and he pulls out a knife before you can get your wallet out. You try not to sigh in relief. For anyone else that might sound crazy, but knives you could manage. Being best friends with Jason Todd means of course you've been made to learn self-defence. Disarming someone with knives was doable enough to learn as a nursing student. Guns, on the other hand, are out of your league.

The fact that you know how to defend yourself doesn't make the knife look any less threatening and sharp, though.

"Hey, look, I'm not gonna be difficult," you say, dropping your voice to a low murmur as though you're trying to coax a cat out of a tree. "I'll give you my money."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do that," he rushes out, sounding confused. You kind of feel bad for him. Most people confronted with a mugger would probably be a lot more scared than you're acting and it's clearly throwing him off his game. You almost regret bothering to send your SOS and as you're thinking about how you're going to apologise to Dick for wasting his time, you go to grab your wallet to try and stall before the mugger becomes violent. "Stop! Put your hands up. I'll grab it myself."

You furrow your brows, about to argue that no, he fucking won't. But you see that the man's face suddenly becomes ten times paler than before and he's looking behind you instead. Your shoulders sag with relief as you spin around to see Nightwing in all his black and blue glory.

"Is there a problem, ma'am?" he lowers his voice an octave and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. He seems to be focusing hard on acting like strangers, because anyone with eyes would see the problem very clearly in the form of a man wielding a knife.

"Please, help me," you respond, drily. Dick raises a brow at your flippant attitude, so you clear your throat, kicking it up a notch. You glance at the man behind you and try to look more terrified than you feel. "Please help me, Mr Nightwing. This guy's got a knife, and he's going to stab me with it."

The man frantically shakes his head, dropping the knife immediately and backing up. "I wasn't! I swear, man, I was just trying to scare her. Look, I'll just-"

"Hey." You hear another familiar voice boom, this time through a modulator. You sigh, lifting your head to see Jason, all the more threatening as Red Hood. His guns are already in either hand by his side and you have to respect the mugger for not passing out where he stands. If you didn't know it was Jason behind that mask, you'd be terrified to death. He tilts his head, evaluating the man. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere, I-"

"Exactly," Jason's warped voice comes out tight, and you hear the cocking of his gun, making you whip around to send a panicked look to Dick. He runs closer to you and you drop your voice to a whisper.

"I've got Hood, you take care of the guy."

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, not unkindly and the two of you snap into action.

You run back over to the mugger and step in front of him, making Jason falter in his movements and lower his gun. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths like he's exercising real control. "Move."

You stay as still as possible, arms splayed out in an attempt to cover the man behind you, despite the fact that Jason definitely possesses the skill to take him out even with you in the way.

"Put your guns away," you hiss when Dick has successfully restrained the man out of earshot and is dragging him away with ease. Jason steps towards them, but you stay in his way, using both hands against his chest to stop him. It's more of a symbolic gesture than anything, since you know you wouldn't be able to budge him an inch even if you threw yourself at him with full force. He stops anyway, looking down at you with his hands gripping his firearms tightly. "He was practically harmless. Let Nightwing deal with him. Please."

You're talking him down, trying to waste time so Dick can leave before Jason is able to do anything. You know you've succeeded when he tucks away his weapons, albeit reluctantly. Dick is too far away with the man now, anyway.

"What the hell were you doing out at this time?" he says, raising his voice instead of the usual quiet, deadly anger he reserves for the people who deserve it. It's how you know he's worried, when he doesn't try and control his temper. "And without dropping me a text first, so I could check on you? You do understand where you live, right?"

"Don't yell at me!" Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence and you feel your lower lip tremble slightly. Jason stills. You refuse to cry, cursing your damn hormones and the fact you're a woman and the fact that you're cramping again. You aren't in the mood to talk to Red Hood right now. You want Jason. "And turn off your stupid voice thing!"

He obliges quickly, stepping closer to you. You're angry at one less thing now that his voice is back to normal. "I'm sorry for yelling. Please don't be upset with me, I was just worried-"

"You were going to kill that guy."

"Damn straight," he fires back, defensive again.

You glare at him and he has enough sense not to speak further. Shaking your head, you let out a frustrated groan. "He was a lousy mugger. That hardly deserves a bullet through the head."

"Are you forgetting that he had a knife?" he exclaims, throwing his hands up. Suddenly, as though he's remembering something, Jason folds his arms across his chest. "Why'd you call D- Nightwing for help first?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. How about next time, I'll ask the guy with the a knife if he can hold off for a second while I select the right contact number!" you grit out, hit with another wave of cramps, extremely tired of this conversation. "It was an accident, you idiot. I meant to text you first."

You can't see Jason's expression beneath his Red Hood mask and you aren't going to ask him to remove it in the middle of the streets, but you imagine he's mollified with the way his shoulders relax a bit.

Huffing, you walk away to get your phone, gingerly picking it up to inspect the newly made cracks all over. You vaguely register Jason standing over your shoulder before you shove your phone in your pocket, a problem for tomorrow. You turn around to face him and clutch at your lower stomach, breathing turning shallow.

"I was on my way to the convenience store," you explain, gritting your teeth. "I assume you're coming with me now?"

"Why did you need to go so late?" he questions, typically not letting it go. Instead of responding, you screw your eyes shut and puff out a few pained breaths. He immediately grips your shoulders and begins inspecting you. "What? Are you hurt? What happened, did he get you?"

"I have cramps, you ass," you groan, shoving his hands away. He ceases looking for an injury, and you don't need to ask him to remove his mask to know that he's relieved. "I was going to the store so late because I'm out of my sanitary products."

"Oh," Jason says gruffly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice due to his excessive worry. "Well, I kept a whole box of pads and stuff from the other month in my apartment. It's closer, come on."

You sag with relief, dragging your feet to follow him as the two of you walk to his place. You're in his apartment so often that you're not surprised it's stocked up with period products as well as your usual things for when you stay the night. You feel a funny little flip that has nothing to do with cramps when you consider how he kept everything.

"Do you need me to carry you?" Jason asks, completely serious, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I know how bad the cramps can get."

"I took some meds a couple hours ago, they're not the worst yet," you explain, shaking him off and trying not to think about him offering to carry you all the way to his apartment just because you have cramps.

You reach his complex quickly and he sends you up while he enters through the fire escape from a back alley as not to expose Red Hood's living quarters. By the time you've entered through his door, Jason is already there, judging by his helmet sitting on his kitchen counter.

"Be out in a second," he calls from his bedroom and so you flop down on his couch, face down in one of the cushions as you try to think about something other than the sharp needles stabbing your lower belly. He walks out while you're writhing in pain and sets down some pads, two painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table. "Here, take them now and go sleep in the bed. There's some snacks in my nightstand if you get hungry. Do you need me to stay home?"

You reluctantly turn over onto your back and see that he's also holding your fluffy panda hot water bottle. You might combust, there and then. Pouting, you reach out for the panda, grabbing it to hold it close to your body and sighing at the slight pain relief. "I'm okay, you can go back to patrol. Thanks for looking after me, Jaybird."

"It's nothing," he shrugs, turning away to hide the pink flush appearing on his cheeks and grabbing his helmet. He shoves it on quickly and you try not to let out an unattractive snort of laughter. He turns on his voice modulator. "Text me if you need anything."

With that, he slips out of his window, making sure to shut it tightly behind him. You stay on the couch after knocking down a couple of painkillers  and try to entertain yourself with some TV while you wait for Jason to come back.

You mournfully scroll through your phone, trying not to cut your fingers on the broken glass. The actual phone seems to be giving up on you as it takes forever to click on one thing to the next. Giving up, you toss it on the table and close your eyes. Making make a mental list in your head of things to do tomorrow, you add buying a new phone to it and prepare to say goodbye to a healthy chunk out of your bank account.

You don't remember dozing off, but your alarm startles you awake and you grab around for it on the nightstand next to you. Turning it off, you decide to brave the world outside the comfy sheets and realise you're in Jason's bed. He must have gotten back late and put you there, you think with a smile, suddenly happier than you were when first waking up. This happy attitude sours a bit when you nick ur finger on the broken glass of your phone screen trying to turn off the rest of your alarms.

Making your way out of his room and following the smell of toaster waffles, you see Jason plating up some breakfast for you. "Morning," you yawn, plopping down on a kitchen stool. "How was patrol?"

"Same old," he says, giving you the usual, non-descriptive answer. For all you know, he could have taken down an entire drug ring single-handedly and you'd be none the wiser. He sets down a plate in front of you, as well as a rectangular box. "Here."

You inspect the box, confused and wanting to focus more on the food before you process what it is and your jaw drops. "Jason Peter Todd. What the hell did you do!"

"Your phone broke," he says, gruffly, clearly trying to downplay the fact that he bought you a brand new smartphone, a later model than the one you already have. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"Of course I'm going to make a big deal, Jay," you say, frowning. "I was going to get one myself today. Why did you waste your money on me? How much was it?"

"Don't worry about it," he says flippantly, plating up his own waffles. You should have known better than to ask. There's no way he's taking money from you.

You sigh, shoving your waffles and the phone out of the way to make your way over to him. "Jay," you say softly, grabbing his face in your hands. His eyes widen slightly and you fight the urge to smile. "I can't accept it."

"I said it was nothing," he replies, furrowing his brows and you release his face in favour of hugging him instead. "And it's not a waste if it's on you. You're taking the phone."

"It's everything," your voice comes out muffled by his hoodie. The cost of a phone really is nothing to Jason. It wouldn't have made even the slightest dent to his bank account, but that's not the point. "You need to let me take care of you for once. Oh, one more thing."

He hums in question, resting his chin on your head and wrapping his hands around you.

"If you buy anything for me again, I'm cutting a heart shaped hole in your suit."

Jason huffs out a laugh and you feel the vibration through his chest. "What about the coffee I get you after class every Friday?"

You stay silent.

He snorts, knowing he's got you. He drops a kiss on your head and grins when you look up to frown at him. "That's what I thought."

3. when this guy just won't take a hint.

Jason owes you big time. You've had the longest week of your life and yet here you are, in a floor length, dark red dress and heels, for crying out loud.

Realistically, this is the least you could do for him, showing up to a gala thrown by his father to keep him company. You're more than happy to do this as a favour to him, but that fact doesn't make the heels pinch at your toes any less.

"I haven't worn this dress since high school," you grumble, twisting it around your waist where it fits snugly. You're thankful for the fact that it falls loosely past your waist, or you'd have ripped it from your body by now. "If I eat one thing, it might actually tear."

"I'll give you my jacket when you spot the appetisers," Jason says, absentmindedly. You squeeze his bicep gently in thanks from where your arm is looped in his as he leads you into the venue. "Anyway, we'll be in and out, as always. Just making an appearance for Bruce."

"In and out," you repeat, lowering your voice as the two of you enter a more populated area. You know even though Jason moans about these events, he wouldn't be here if he really didn't want to be. He cares, even though he'd never admit it.

Groups of businessmen, celebrities, entrepreneurs; basically a bunch of rich people who are dressed in clothes that are definitely more expensive than your rent are milling about, every one of them with a drink in their hand. Their unwavering smiles and the constant trips to the bar are nothing new and you wrinkle your nose at the atmosphere of the place. "Do they even know what charity Bruce is throwing this for?"

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Bruce could be throwing this thing for homeless badgers and they'd be none the wiser," he mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Rolling his neck, he takes a deep breath. "I should go say 'hi' to him, while he's talking to a bunch of people. Prove that I actually showed up. You wanna come?" 

You almost agree, not wanting to be left alone, but just before you reluctantly trudge over to a group of Bruce's boring business associates, you thankfully spot Jason's brothers by the bar. "I'll just go hang out with Dick and Tim, is that okay? I can come with though, if you want."

"Nah, go ahead," he says, detangling his arm from yours and giving you a reassuring smile. "Come grab me when they start getting annoying."

"Be nice," you warn, gently shoving him towards the group of men as you make your way to Dick and Tim.

"Hey," Tim greets you with a smile, glancing up quickly before returning to his phone. He does a little double take, eyes snagging on your dress and his smile turns devious. "Well, you look nice. You're wearing a very... nice colour..."

"Tim," you heave a deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes, but he can't help the corners of his lips quirking up. "You can't keep doing this every time I wear red."

"I'm not doing anything, just making an observation," he shrugs, rocking back and forth on his heels in an attempt to look casual. Tim glances around to see make sure no one is in earshot before lowering his voice. "Hey, totally unrelated, but I heard Jaybird nearly shot a guy for almost mugging you."

"Tim."

"Leave her alone," Dick intervenes before Tim can needle you further. He definitely enjoys it too, but ever the golden boy, he seemingly wants to keep the peace. "How are you doing after that, anyway?"

"Fine," you nod reassuringly. "Thank you, again for showing up, Dick. I really appreciate it."

"Don't be silly, it's-"

"I heard he got you a brand new phone, too," Tim pipes up, cutting his brother off.

"Tim," you groan, thwacking him in the arm with your clutch. He barely flinches. "For the last time, Jason and I are just friends."

Tim opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes dart behind you and he thinks better of it, choosing to just smirk like the troublemaker he is.

"That's good news." You whip around to locate the source of the voice, finding yourself looking at a guy you've never met before. He seems to be around your age, dressed smart and very rich looking. You stand there stupidly.

"For who?" you ask, chuckling nervously.

He shrugs, giving you a charming smile. "Anyone who wants to buy you a drink. May I?"

Understanding dawns on you and you glance at Dick and Tim with wide eyes, feeling a little awkward that they're here for this interaction. Dick keeps his expression carefully neutral as he considers the man, whereas Tim frowns when he meets your eyes, jerking his head as subtly as possible in Jason's direction.

This has you glaring at him and just to prove a point, you plaster on a wide smile of your own and return your attentions to the stranger. "Yes. You may."

The two of you walk closer to the end of the bar and away from the others. You pointedly don't look at them. "What was your name?" you ask the stranger, mostly for the sake of being polite.

"George." A rich guy name, you think to yourself. If Jason were here, you know he'd have a million things to say.

He asks your name and you give it to him as he orders you a drink without actually asking what you want.

"Pretty name," George remarks, handing you a glass of something you've never had before. You pretend to take a sip, smiling in thanks. "So, what's your story?"

You try not to outwardly cringe at the question, sorely regretting tonight's decisions despite the fact you've been here less than half an hour. "I'm just here to keep my friend company." You keep the story short, not bothering to explain how you know the Wayne family.

"Ah, well. I dont blame you for looking so bored. I'm just here because I have to be as well," he mutters, swirling the contents of his glass. "Business connections and such."

"Oh." You find yourself being less and less interested in this conversation. "Do you know what the fundraiser tonight is for?"

"God, no," George laughs, taking a sip of his drink. You try your hardest not to grimace, mentally checked out of the conversation already. "It's always the same shit, anyway. Forget all that. Drink up and we can get out of here."

You nearly choke on your own saliva at his sheer confidence and set down your drink. "I really shouldn't. I'm, uh, I'm okay staying here."

"Aw, come on," he leans in a little closer than you'd like and you try to look as imperceptibly as you can for Dick or Tim, but it seems they've left you to face the consequences of your own actions. Traitors. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself. What, you don't like me-?"

"Hey." You feel Jason's presence at the same time as hearing his voice. You almost laugh at how relieved you suddenly feel and you and relax into his hold when he places both hands on your waist. Jason drops his voice to a murmur that only you can hear. "Ready to go home?"

You nod, turning to leave. About to bid a quick goodbye to George as not to be rude, you open your mouth but get stopped in your tracks.

"She's fine right here, man," George says, voice as smooth as glass. If the glass is shattered into sharp, pointy spikes that are as uncomfortable as this conversation, that is.

Jason's previously polite smile hardens as his front is now practically plastered against your back. "She can talk for herself."

"She was actually just-"

"She's right here," you interrupt, squirming out of Jason's arms to step back. He drops his hands immediately, but doesn't look at you. Instead, he assesses George through a narrow eyed gaze. You can't decide if George is being brave, or stupid for not cracking under the weight of Jason's intense glare as he stands there, all six foot two of him posing a threatening picture. "Right, well. I'm just going to-"

"Hey, hold on," George says, averting his all-too arrogant gaze back to you and gripping your upper arm, jerking you slightly. You flinch a little when he moves into your personal space. "You aren't going to give me your number?"

His grip doesn't hurt, but it's a world away from gentle and you almost gape at the fact he doesn't seem to be aware of how uninterested you are.

Jason immediately clocks this, stepping forward. "Yeah, I don't fucking think so," he says darkly and then he shoves at George. Hard.

The people nearest to you gasp and titter when they see George careening into the stools at the bar and you slap a hand over your mouth, shocked. Shocked that Jason had actually gotten violent as Jason and not as Red Hood. All over a random creep, no less.

Before George even has the chance to recover from the surprise of Jason's brute force, you pull harshly on Jason's suit jacket, steering him out of the venue and into the hall. He follows you without protest, still breathing heavily.

"What the hell was that?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, despite being alone out in the entrance hall.

"He grabbed you," Jason says slowly, as if he's confused as to why you're upset. His expression is tight, like he's being careful to control his anger even now that you're away from George. "I would have done a lot fucking worse to him if you hadn't dragged me out of there."

"You cannot go all Red Hood when you're Jason! It's suspicious as hell. Not to mention how you were practically back-hugging me like some sort of reverse bulletproof vest."

"I always do that," Jason says, calmly. The fact that he isn't raising his voice just spurs you on to raise yours higher. The multitude of emotions swirling around in a confused whirl around your stomach makes you nauseous.

"You hate being touchy in public," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Last month, you punched Tim in the stomach for putting his arm around your shoulder. Anyway, that's not the point! You're so occupied with trying to take care of everyone that you never consider yourself. Or let anyone else do so. Yeah, that guy was an asshole. But he was just an asshole trying to talk to a single girl. He wasn't some... some crime boss or villain or evil freaking mastermind for you to take down!"

"I don't need looking after. And he didn't know you were single," Jason scoffs, running a hand through his neatly combed hair, mussing it up. If you weren't so irritated, you'd take a moment to appreciate how much you prefer it when he looks like this. Real and raw, like the current expression on his face rather than closed off and emotionless. "You came here on my arm, wearing my colour, like Tim's always fucking going on about. You... you're my..."

"Your what, Jason?" you ask, hysterically. You're almost yelling now, finally ready to snap at Jason's inability to share his thoughts with you. He stays silent, face going blank again, an indication that he's closing himself off to you. Your shoulders sag from exhaustion. "Come talk to me when you can give me an answer. I'm going home, I'll get Dick to give me a ride."

You don't wait for a response as you walk back into the venue. Thankfully, Dick is near the entrance and you don't have to subject yourself to too many stares before he takes you home. You don't glance at Jason on your way out.

4. when he asks for your help.

You're moping. You don't bother trying to deny it, but you're definitely moping around your apartment since your fight with Jason. You wake early every day and get dressed and study, but your movements are almost robotic in nature.

Dick has tried texting you a few times, but you've decided to just avoid looking at your phone, because it's the one Jason bought and it just makes you feel even worse. You aren't sure if Jason's tried contacting you, but your phone stops going off around the same time as Dick's evening patrol and you don't let yourself dwell on it further.

The two of you have never gone this long without speaking and aside from the pit of unease in your stomach as well as the sadness hanging over you like a dark cloud, you're also just bored. You have acquaintances from your nursing course, but no one close enough to do anything with this late at night.

Oh, well, you think to yourself, Chinese food and Grey's Anatomy for the second night in a row it is.

You take a quick shower, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary to let the time pass. Getting out, you change into your second pyjama set of the day, opting for a hoodie when you feel a chill in your room that wasn't there before.

You go to shut your bedroom window with a frown, not remembering why you opened it. The handle is stiff and you internally curse your landlord for still not fixing it as you finally succeed in shutting the damn thing after a particularly hard tug.

It shouldn't have taken that much energy out of you, but you're panting when you walk out of your bedroom to enter the living room so you can sit in front of the TV and order the takeout that you probably shouldn't be eating.

Before you can even attempt to regulate your breathing, you look up in the direction of your couch to find Jason sitting there in his Red Hood suit and slap a hand over your mouth to smother your shriek.

"Oh my God," you gasp, your free hand flailing out frantically to grasp the door frame in an attempt to steady yourself. The minute it takes for you to catch your breath is enough time to take in the state of the vigilante sitting in the dark of your living room.

You switch the light on and Jason winces at the sudden brightness, but you take the opportunity to give him a thorough once over. His dark hair is disheveled and falling into his eyes from hours of confinement in his helmet and he has a fresh bruise blossoming across his cheekbone.

You hardly ever use the main light, usually opting for a warm-toned lamp instead, so when the main light casts the cuts and scrapes on Jason's body in a harsher light, you want to turn it off even more.

Jason's eyes flutter shut for a second and you immediately rush forward to assess him for any injuries causing major blood loss. "Did you get stabbed?" you ask clinically, your voice void of any emotion. "Are you bleeding under your suit? You need to stay awake-"

"I'm fine," Jason mutters, opening his eyes to peer up at you through tired eyes. "I'm not bleeding or anything. Just wiped out from patrol."

You relax slightly, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of you. "Oh. You snuck through my window to tell me that you're tired?"

"Anyone could have snuck through that damn window," he says, brows furrowing in disapproval. He's been hassling you about the security of your apartment since you can remember and you usually wave him off, but in this moment you bristle.

"You don't get to be annoyed at me right now," you say, crossing your arms and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you here, Jason?"

He grimaces at the use of his government name coming from you and takes a deep breath. "I haven't slept."

"So, go home and take a nap," you say, exasperated, letting your hands fall to your side as you're about to turn around and walk back into your room. Before you leave, you hear your Nursing teachers' voices in your head, reprimanding you and you sigh. "And you want to clean those cuts before they get infected."

"Could you do it for me?" Jason asks quietly, barely audible. His jaw clenches with the effort of asking you the question. "Please?"

You blink at him. "But, I- You've never..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. Jason has always refused to let anyone else patch him up after patrol. Hell, he's even learned how to do stitches on himself when you're the one learning how to do them for a living.

"I want... to let you look after me," he whispers, looking at you imploringly like you're going to refuse. Your irritation immediately melts into something else that you don't want to analyse any time soon.

"Oh," you exhale softly, heart twisting unwillingly. You nod slowly, words escaping you again. "Okay."

Jason's head flops back onto the couch cushion and he sighs like all of the tension is leaving his body. His hair covers his eyes, but you don't miss the dark circles under them, contrasting starkly with his skin, pale from exhaustion.

You consider letting him stay there, but you know it'll be easier in the bathroom where you keep all of your first aid supplies and the lighting is better for when you're practicing your techniques. "Come on. Up," you say, gesturing to the bathroom with a jerk of your head and you walk away, allowing him to come in his own time.

While you're digging through your bathroom cabinet for all the supplies you've haphazardly thrown in after using them, Jason slips in and you glance over at him quickly. "Sit down," you mutter, reaching up for the disinfectant. It sits on one of the higher shelves and you have to get on your tiptoes to reach it. Jason instinctively moves to help you but you shoo him away, managing to grasp it yourself. "Sit down."

"Yes, nurse," he huffs out a quiet laugh and you bite back a smile, opting to roll your eyes at him instead. Setting your supplies down behind Jason, you focus your attentions on unzipping his suit. The way his arms are resting limp in his lap tells you that he's not wanting to move anytime soon. You bring the zipper down yourself and pull off each sleeve cautiously, not wanting to rip the suit further where the torn fabric is clinging to the bloody cuts in his skin.

Once the suit is hanging loosely around his waist, you see from the black tank he's wearing that the cuts are localised to his now bare arms from where he's been defensive, whereas the fabric on his chest and abdomen are intact.

Jason's eyes track your face as you assess the extent of his injuries and when you lift your face to look at him, he's unabashed, continuing to look directly into your eyes. Your cheeks warm and you stutter out a sentence "I-I'll be right back, one sec."

You rush out of the bathroom and into your kitchen to pull open the freezer and scramble around for a bag of frozen anything. Settling on a bag of peas that you have no intention of cooking anytime soon, you hurry straight back to the bathroom.

Jason eyes the peas warily and you raise a brow, daring him to challenge you. When he stays silent, you move forward to shove the peas onto his cheek where the bruise is a darker red mark than before. He hisses when the icy bag makes contact with his face, flinching away from it.

"Ouch," he mumbles belatedly, giving you a sheepish smile when your mouth sets in a line. You should probably be gentler with him considering it's the first time he's allowing someone to physically care for him and it's you he's choosing to cross that boundary with. It's not like you want to scare him off so he never asks you again, but you can't help still being annoyed with him after your fight.

You sigh, trying to relax your face into a non-threatening expression. "Sorry. Keep it on your face to stop the swelling."

Jason grasps the bag slowly as you let go, letting his fingers brush over your own. You clear your throat and focus your attentions on the cotton pads, dousing them with disinfectant. Jason looks at you through one open eye, the other obscured by the bag of peas. "You shouldn't be the one apologising," he says, after a beat.

You purse your lips, bringing a cotton pad up to Jason's shoulder. "I know," you say simply before you press the disinfectant into one of the larger cuts, harder than probably necessary. Jason screws his eyes shut and works his jaw, but stays quiet. "Did that hurt?"

Jason shakes his head immediately, letting out a short breath he was holding. "Nope. Felt good actually. Kinda like a cooling effe- Shit," he hisses, tensing his arm. You think that's enough torture for now, instead continuing to gently wipe away the blood and dirt.

"I won't apologise about that one," you say, shrugging. Jason cracks a smile and you find yourself hiding one of your own as you clean off the other, smaller cuts and scrapes that don't need bandaging. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Promise I'll be nicer about it this time."

Jason shakes his head again, so you dispose of the cotton pads and get the band-aids, the only noise in the bathroom being the sound of you rummaging through your supplies. When you spot the choice of band-aids, you grin. "Pick one."

Surveying the two that you hold in your hand, Jason's gaze lingers on the dinosaur patterned band-aid, before flicking his eyes up to yours and raising an eyebrow. He points to the other one. "I'll take the Hello Kitty."

Your grin widens, knowing he's only choosing the pink Hello Kitty band-aid to appease you. You're certainly not going to challenge him about it as you carefully peel off the backing to stick it over his shoulder. Stepping back, you tilt your head to evaluate him and nod. "You look very pretty."

Jason smirks, but the slight blush creeping across the cheek that isn't covered by the frozen peas doesn't fool you. "Pretty enough for you to forgive me for being such an ass?"

"That depends." You take a tentative step towards him, crossing your arms. "Are you going to stop being stupid?"

Jason lowers his arm holding the bag of peas and places it behind him. With both hands, he reaches over to your arms, uncrossing them to bring you forward until you're standing close. He's so impossibly tall in your tiny bathroom that even standing up, you're only eye level with him as he sits on the closed toilet seat.

"I can't promise that I'll never be stupid in front of you again. You kind of have that effect on me," he says, sighing like it's some curse inflicted on him. You thwack his rock-solid arm and he grins. "I can promise I'll let you take care of me from now on, though. And that I'm going to stop lying to you."

"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. You're even more confused when Jason places his hands around your waist to guide you onto his lap, both your legs hanging off one side of him. You raise both eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his answer, but he merely stares at you, smiling. "Jason. When have you lied to- mmph-"

He cuts you off by pressing your lips together in a kiss, one hand still holding yours, intertwining your fingers while the other tilts your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. You're a little slow on the uptake, frozen from shock for a second, but it isn't long until you're kissing him back just as eagerly. You shift in his lap, lifting one of your legs to swing over to his other side until you're straddling him and Jason takes a sharp inhale, sitting up straighter and pulling your body closer to his.

He pulls away for a millisecond, before his lips reattach to your jaw, travelling down to pepper soft kisses down your neck and you let out a noise halfway between a sigh and an embarrassing whimper. Jason groans at the sound, nipping at your neck and you feel like you can't breathe enough air.

He pulls away again to catch his own breath and you take the opportunity to come to your senses and lean back, gently pushing at Jason's chest. You breathe hard, trying to lift your gaze from Jason's swollen lips and he seems to be having a hard time looking away from your own.

"Jason," you say, voice shaky and uneven.

"Mhm?" he hums distractedly, pressing a soft kiss on your jaw before looking at you again.

"You kissed me," you point out, stupidly. "You really, really kissed me."

"I did," Jason murmurs, both hands cupping your face. He swallows, expression going from dazed to nervous before he speaks. "You asked me what you are to me before you left the other night."

You nod slowly, head still reeling from the kiss. Truthfully, you were willing to pretend the conversation never happened if you could go back to being friends again. You missed Jason. 

"You're everything to me." Jason's shoulders are relaxed, his face free of tension as he says this. You're so shocked by the fact that he doesn't seem to be in pain as he opens himself up to you, that it takes a minute to process the actual meaning of his words. Your lips part but he shakes his head, continuing to speak. "You're everything. And sometimes I can't even think about that too much, let alone speak it, because I'm scared it'll consume me. I'm scared you'll consume me. The idea of compromising your safety, the idea of you loving me back, all of it. I'm... I was scared."

You lift your hand to place it over Jason's, still resting on your cheek. "That's okay. I can think and speak enough for the both of us," you tease and Jason laughs quietly, his breath tickling the inside of your wrist and sending a shiver down your spine. "You're everything to me as well, by the way. And sometimes all I can think about is loving you. I was just waiting for you to say it first."

Jason smiles and you think the corners of his lips lifting up and his eyes lighting up is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, each time blowing you away like it's the first time you've witnessed it. "Does that mean I lose? Kinda feels like I've won," he tilts his head, pretending to think about it.

"Oh, you've so lost," you furrow your brows in a mockingly serious frown. "And I'll be telling Tim as much."

Jason stills. "Please do not tell me that he bet you fifty dollars I'd confess first as well."

Your jaw drops. "That little bastard was playing both of us?"

You start laughing when Jason lets out an irritated groan, dropping his head onto your shoulder to bury his face in your shirt. You thread your hands in his hair and wrap an arm around his neck. He sighs, half content and half resigned. "I say we don't tell him for as long as we can get away with it. Live in peace for a while."

"We're talking about Tim here," you remind Jason, leaning back to lift his head and look at him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. And he'd literally never talk to you again if he knew we were hiding it after he finds out."

"I don't care," Jason says, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. He leans back to run his eyes over your face, drinking you in like looking at you is a rare occurrence that he doesn't get the opportunity to do much. "You're all I need, anyway."

© angelfic 2024.

[theemporium]

Hii!! May I request 💜 violet fluff number 37 for Luke hughes? Maybe he gets injured in a game and the pain meds he’s put on have him begging for reader to continue playing with his hair as it brings him a comfort?

(btw I love your writing it’s always so so good and when I see your page it always brings a smile to my face <3)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

37. “You should play with my hair some more."

.

All things considered, the hit could have caused a lot more damage. 

It was a dirty hit, a nasty one that had the whole Devils bench exploding with complaints when the referees had only given the other guy a two minute minor. Luke hadn’t even been allowed to play the rest of the period or the rest of the game for precautionary reasons, instead taken straight to medical to do a full evaluation. 

Nothing was broken but his shoulder was a little roughed up and it hurt like a bitch right now—a pain the doctors assured would ease in the next few days. The doctors had prescribed some strong painkillers to help ease the pain and allow enough relief for Luke to rest tonight. 

Painkillers that seemed a lot more that strong if the boy’s current state was anything to go by. 

“You’re really pretty,” Luke sighed as he turned his head to look at you with a goofy smile. “Like, reaaaaaally pretty.” 

“I know, baby,” you grinned back at him. “You’ve only told me a hundred times in the last ten minutes.” 

He frowned. “That’s not enough. I should tell you more.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “Those painkillers are really hitting you, aren’t they?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding his head. “Feel really good right now.” 

“Oh, I bet,” you mused as you reached towards him, pushing some of his curls out of his face and pushing them back. 

“Wanna go home,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Can we go home now?” 

“Five more minutes, babe,” you assured him, your nails lightly stretching along his scalp as he let out a noise of contentment. Almost like a cat. You had to bite back your laugh at the thought. “Jack is gonna bring the car around so you don’t have to walk too much.” 

“That’s nice of him,” Luke mumbled, his cheek pressed against the pillow as he gave up keeping his eyes open. 

“Gotta stay up for me,” you murmured as you pulled your hand away, lightly stroking his cheek instead but the boy just whined in response. 

“No, why did you stop?” His words were slurred together as he blinked his eyes open, frowning up at you.

“I don’t want you falling asleep right now,” you told him in a soft voice, smiling a little when he leaned his cheek into your hand. “We still need to get home and I don’t think me and Jack will be able to carry you the whole way.” 

“I’ve seen how much he can lift, he’ll be fine,” Luke huffed out in response, slowly blinking as he yawned a little. “You’re going against doctor’s orders.” 

You raised your brows in amusement. “Am I now?” 

“Mhm, the doctor told me what I needed to feel better so you should listen to me,” Luke said, his eyes hooded and tired. “You should play with my hair some more. It’s the quickest road to recovery.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, if the doctor said so…” 

“S’the first thing he learnt in school,” Luke told you, only to be interrupted by a yawn.

“You’re so lucky Jack isn’t here to hear this,” you murmured as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before returning your fingers to his hair. “He would never let you live any of this down.”

.

[stall1iion]

champions love - five

Liked by f1wags, y/nupdates, maxverstappen1, y/nofficial, redbullracing and many others

f1 and there is our ice queen, arriving in fashion to her first race of the season in Spielberg! 🇦🇹 A new fashion queen on the grid perhaps? 👀

#F1 #Formula1 #AustrianGP

view all comments

username1 oh she looks beautiful

⤷username4 right? Like can Max fight??

username69 so we're gonna ignore that f1 admin is a figure skating fan??

⤷f1 of course I am 😼

username15 f1 fashion game is SO BACK

⤷username27 lewis and her are about to show up slaying 🫡👏🏾

⤷username9 no literally, Fashion Queen and King of the Grid

username90 I met her! She’s genuinely so nice!

username62 lewis has some competition fr

username12 she flew to austria for a MAN?? 🤨

⤷username44 to be fairrrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN and her boyfriend so….

username8 of course she’d be more focused on an outfit then supporting max

⤷username7 relax?? She’s literally wearing a flowy shirt and some jeans, just because she got dressed doesn’t mean she’s not there to support

username37 ice queen? Ice flop maybe

⤷username35 oh yes, a two time olympic champion, truly embarrassing of her 🙄

username3 great another american ruining the sport

⤷username77 surprised she isn’t fat like all the others or is her shirt hiding that?

⤷username98 I was trying to ignore your blatant xenophobia and sexism but like I genuinely can’t, one: her and logan aren’t ruining the sport at all and two not all americans are fat, you see fast food and automatically assume and it’s crazy when one good click on the comment above and you’d see she’s an olympic figure skater and better than you’d ever hope to be

⤷username35 let them hate, they find every little thing to hate on because they can’t be them. See how many hoops they have to jump through to say anything offensive

liked by bsf1, bsf2, maxverstappen1 and many others

y/n.jpg time to see my first ever vroom vroom race in person but at least I have my newest pookie with me 💗

tagged: lilymhe

view all comments

bsf1 pookie we miss you 😢

⤷y/n.jpg i miss you too 😢it’s time for me to watch men go vroom vroom in fast cars

bsf2 why didn’t you take us??? 😭😭

⤷y/n.jpg because you had work pookie?? 😞

⤷bsf2 oh…yeah….like i wouldn’t quit to go to a race 😞😢

⤷y/n.jpg yeah no…keep that bag, I promise i’ll take yall when you guys are free ♥️

alexalbon omg is that where my girlfriend went???

⤷y/n.jpg sorry she’s my girlfriend now 🫶

⤷lilymhe I know where home is 🫶

⤷alexalbon UMM???

maxverstappen1 was the meme necessary?

⤷y/n.jpg yes it was, my vibe was incomplete without it

⤷y/n.jpg expect more btw 😋

⤷maxverstappen1 oh god 😐

⤷y/n.jpg good luck on your race ☺️

liked by landonorris, bsf1, bsf2, and many others

y/n.jpg …so that was a tough loss um…how do you feel after that?

view all comments

landonorris how the fuck you think I feel?

⤷y/n.jpg I have a gift for you

⤷landonorris stop I’m supposed to be mad rn

⤷y/n.jpg what he say fuck me for? 😟😔

username2 😭wtf? why is she so unserious

bsf1 how was the race in person?

⤷y/n.jpg loud as fuck 😭

⤷y/n.jpg it was like going to a hotter, louder monster truck show

charles_leclerc the meme?

⤷y/n.jpg your very memeable charlie, it’s a talent really and one that will be showcased on my page way more often

⤷username99 CHARLIE??

lilymhe we still on for drinks?

⤷y/n.jpg of course

⤷username5 max didn’t win and literally caused Lando to crash, what does you need to get drinks for?

⤷y/n.jpg see I don’t know if you know but it’s called, I’m my own grown ass person who can get drinks whenever I want

username4 not her making fun of Lando after her boyfriend ruined his race

⤷username7 *liked by author*

what are you talking about? Lando quite literally responded and he’s obviously not mad at her nor is she making fun of him

username9 both were scrapping and made mistakes. We’ll get em next week!

username23 just wait till next weekend, those guys are going to boo every chance they get, don’t be discouraged!

⤷username44 oh you must’ve missed it but they already started making comments towards her, apparently a fan of hers asked for a autograph and some butthurt fans called her all kinds of names

⤷username23 oh wow, yeah I would’ve never guessed from this post

⤷username1 y/n is not new to getting hate, after her first championship some commentators were calling her a possible “one hit wonder” and fans were saying her coach was better off coaching others

Y/N L/N Talks All Things Sport-Like, Relationships And Careers

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon 163,713 likes

View transcript

“Our next guest is an expert on skating and ice, her olympic career on the rise, please welcome Y/N L/N!”

[Inserts Y/N with cheers] “Welcome to the show! Uh you look fantastic, thank you so much for being here”

“Thank you for inviting me, Jimmy! And for the food!”

“No problem! Figured it was the least I could do after the flight here, um…so y/n your career has always been eventful but it's currently exploding right now and everyone’s talking about Y/N L/N and so I wanted to show you this photo and tell me if you remember how growing up in figure skating was” [shows a picture of younger y/n in her first competition]

“Oh….this was when I was 12, I had just started competing after begging my mother to sign me up for a skating academy for like a whole year [laughter]”

“Did you win this competition?”

“No [laughs] I got like fourth place and was convinced I wasn’t made out to be a skater and went home that night and cried the most i’ve ever cried I think”

“Wow, here’s you like what..six competitions later and look you’ve got a gold medal” {shows a different picture of her on the podium with a bright smile] [insert cheers and laughter] “I’m so happy for you, what did it feel like?”

“Um, well it felt like I was right all along, that my mom and coach were right and it just gave me a huge boost in confidence after that”

“And- I mean- look at you now two time olympic champion back to back, that is amazing- absolutely amazing. Uh- a little birdie told me that when you first signed with Team USA- um you were in a Chick-Fil-A drive thru when you got the call”

[laughter] “Um..yeah! I was actually at work- um, i worked in a chick-fil-a like ten minutes down the street from my house and I got the call from the recruiter and I was like “oh god, I can’t be on my phone at work but I have to take this…screw it” and i picked up the phone and if you ever watched the draft for the nba then it’s kind of like that, I remember I squealed and dropped to the floor as I accepted and I just could not shut up about it for the rest of the day”

[laughter] “yeah well that must’ve been an amazing feeling! To know your accomplishments have been recognized and that you were about to go to the big leagues”

“Oh yeah, I was riding on that high for like a week, it felt like- yeah- i did it. I mean, I felt like I kind of made it already when I won the rest of my competitions growing up but that call was the little cherry on top, you know? I was 18 years old at the time of the phone call, just out of high school but then it was like a massive dump where I was unsure of myself and if I really was that good. Hate really got to my heart during that time, I had already reviewed a large amount of misogyny that I had almost given up too many times to count”

“I had to push myself and remember why I was there, first and foremost my passion for the ice, and I wasn’t going to toss away my dream due to bigoted men around me. They wanted to see me fail and I wasn’t going to let them succeed”

“Beautifully said. I know recently a few fans have reacted poorly after the results of the most recent grand prix in Austria..how do you feel about that?”

“Well um, I get that they're mad, you know? No one wants to see a driver forced out of a race following a collision but again, I had nothing to do with that, you know? [laughter] Um..just because I’m dating Max does not give them that excuse but again, there will always be haters and so I do what I do best and ignore them the best I can; I know not everyone can respond maturely and things can be said in the heat of the moment so I try not to hold it against them”

“Right, well what are your plans for the future? Is another championship in the cards? Another career even? Maybe a more serious relationship outcome with Max?”

[laughter] “Um well figure skating is definitely the dream, you know, a lot of people will say I’m too old to be on the rink but frankly, there is no maximum age to figure skating, i’ll retire of course when I’m ready but um, that’s no time soon [laughter] um growing up I was really into psychology. Obviously as an athlete I know the importance of mental health and how it can truly affect your performance and career but I was obsessed growing up, probably from all the late night reruns of crime shows like law and order and 48 hours {laughter}’

“and um I don’t know about the last one, we haven’t really talked about anything like that, I think we both enjoy our lives together but i wouldn’t be opposed to any sort of change”

“Great! Well um, Max if your watching, there’s your sign right there [laughter] um…I googled you today to see what pops up and um..”

“Did you not know who I was beforehand?”

“No [laughter] no- i can do..I know all your poses and I can do it”

“Oh can you?”

“I can do it, no- no I just wanted to see what pops up and it says did you mean: ice queen or ice princess and I think that’s kind of fun, tell us about that”

“Um, I definitely didn’t do that- I guess someone at google loves me or something [laughter] but the nicknames ice queen or princess is from the 2018 Olympics when I won my first championship and that day I was wearing a white and silver costume that I was absolutely shivering in [laughter] but um- yeah, the judges and everyone liked it so much and I think the name came from one the judge's comments on my performance actually and everyone just ran with it and i liked it so much that I kept it [laughter]”

“Can I just tell everyone some of the stats you have right now, because wow. You are currently the highest paid figure skater at a net worth of 90 Million dollars. You are a 5 time US champion from 2011 to 2016 and 6 time World Champion from 2017 and 2023, you have countless endorsements with brands such as Disney, McDonald’s, Starbucks, Visa, Campbell’s Chevrolet, Coca-Cola, Kraft, and United Airlines. You’ve been given the James E. Sullivan Award for ‘Best Amateur Athlete, U.S. Olympic Committee ‘Sportswoman of the Year’, Readers’ Choice ‘Figure Skater of the Year’, Teen Choice Award and ‘Cosmogirl of the Year’” [takes in a deep breath] “phew…that was a lot to read [laughter] but yeah, that is all you’ve done since you were 12, that’s amazing!”

“It sounds so much grander and shocking when you read it all out like that! [laughter]”

“Yes well it was lovely speaking to you and wearing out my vocal cards reading all that [laughter] this is Y/N L/N, everybody! [cheers and applause] Thank you for coming! Stay tuned for our next guest after the break!”

→ Face claims: (completely forgot to do these but we have: Lori Harvey and Zendaya) 

→ y/n and lily left the grid while waiting for the race to start to get food (she wanted authentic local food)

→ in the interview y/n did shade both lando fans and lando himself 

Author's note!

Hey guys! I worked hard with this one lol! Could not figure out how I wanted to do the interview and just decided to type it as if it was like a little youtube clip of the show so the brackets are like youtube captions. I wanted to wait until after Austria since I finally got the story aligned with recent events (obviously a fictional version of them). Plz don’t send any hate for the shade I threw in here, I love Lando and in fact do have his merch but his response to today’s race was slightly immature and dare I say whiney, plus i did steal some actual comments from instagram posts under red bull so :/ also had to include the weird thing europeans do where they hate on americans for seemingly no reason? Like I've gone to Europe and the hate I get is actually mind boggling. ANYWAYS! Hope you enjoy this chapter, maybe put in some request for what you’d like to see in the next because i have NO IDEA. 

Taglist: @boiohboii @ale-522 @ietss @theseerbetweenus @jaxx-7 @sainzluvrr @the-untamed-soul @ashy-kit @hc-dutch @nichmeddar @delululeclerc @sweate-r-weathe-r @dhanihamidi @tellybearryyyy @luvsforme @samantha-chicago @theblueblub

༉‧₊˚  CHAMPIONS LOVE ༉‧₊˚

⤷ Following the messy breakup between Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet, Max’s manager comes up with a solution to divert the attention – a fake relationship. His new girlfriend? Two time olympic gold medalist figure skater, y/n for the USA team. Easy? Well…

[vanishingstarrs]

decode

eijiro kirishima x reader, secret admirer trope, soft vibes, sfw

( do u guys prefer these drabbles to be longer ? shorter ? split into multiple parts ?? pls feel free to let me know !! <3 )

For weeks all you could think about were the little notes folded up into hearts that you’d been finding in your locker every day.

The first one appeared over a month ago and stated: you look badass in your new costume.

You’d been pretty insecure when submitting in the new design for your hero suit and despite all your friends encouragement you still felt a bit out of place among the rest of your classmates, who always looked confident and powerful in theirs.

You weren’t expecting anything, but the next day another fell out when you went to grab a textbook in between classes and it said— that new move was impressive, your improvement and dedication amazes me each day.

And the next day.

have a great day, gorgeous

And the next.

you were awesome in that training exercise

And more.

that test was rough, hope you did better than i did— your concentrating face is cute btw <3

you kicked bakugo’s ass today (and looked hot doing it), it was great!

you’re so strong and pretty

They continued every day to the point where you had finally called an emergency meeting with your friends, you laid back on Momo’s luxurious bed with a sigh,“I have no clue, who could it be? It has got to be someone in our class with the way they know so much, but…”

“But…?” Kyoka urged you on.

Another sigh left your lips, and you couldn’t help scrunch up your face as you looked at your friends,“None of the boys in our class seem to give off secret admirer potential, what if it’s just some sick prank one of them is doing?”

“For that long?” Momo questioned before shaking her head,“I don’t know, not even our guys seem capable of something so cruel.”

“Maybe you just haven’t given the right one the chance to step up?” Ochaco offered up.

“I mean what are her options?” Mina snorted, she held a list of all the guys in their class.

You guys had gone through and already crossed off a couple that were definite no’s, people like Mineta, Sero, and Kaminari who were self proclaimed “ladies men”. You considered that it might be one of the quieter boys, maybe Kirishima or Todoroki, even Ojiro.

You had reassured Ochaco that Midoriya wasn’t even a possibility, considering the boy was loud and open about his admiration for others and could tell she was relieved when you did.

You shrugged, having gone over any interactions with the boys in your class multiple times. “I don’t know, I’m not really close with any of them… I mean I sit next to Kaminari and Kirishima so I guess they’re my friends? But Kaminari has eyes on a new girl every day and I could swear Kirishima had told me about…”

“Who?!” All four girls sat up impatiently.

“No one.” You smirked,“I don’t spill your guys’ private conversations.”

“Boooo!” Toru threw a crumbled up piece of paper at you.

You opened up your latest two notes.

golden hour looks breathtaking on you

you’ve officially taken up a permanent residence in my mind, i think of you all day long…

“Wait!” Jiro stood up suddenly, snatching one note along with her as she began digging around in her backpack.

“Hey!” You pouted, but she shushed you.

“I know how we’ll solve this mystery.” She pulled out a notebook from class.

“How?!” Ochaco asked excitedly.

You almost didn’t want to know, what if you confronted the person and it went awry?

“Okay, so last week I asked Shouji to borrow some notes for a lecture I wasn’t really listening to and look!”

All five of you leaned forward to look at the notebook and the messy scrawl on the page.

“His penmanship is quite poor.” Momo pointed out and you silently agreed.

Jiro rolled her eyes,“Not why I’m showing you guys this, what I’m getting at is that we can just ask all the boys to write something down and compare their handwriting to the notes!”

“Genius!” Mina shot up,“I was just thinking I was really hungry, we could tell them we’re ordering some takeout and have each individually write out if they want anything.”

“Perfect, we should split up and do it quick.” Ochaco agreed.

Your heartbeat picked up and you anxiously wrung your hands,“Okay, but also can we actually order food? I eat when I’m nervous and right now I’m a wreck. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Girl, you got this!” Mina turned to you with a big, encouraging smile and you returned it, albeit not as bright as hers. “Let’s find this guy!”

The group quickly agreed and everyone split up to take the class’s requests for dinner.

By the time you all met up in Momo’s room again, you were tense. You each had a note and several options to compare from, a few were easy to immediately knock off. You continued going down your list until you gasped, unable to help yourself as you met the gazes of your friends.

“What?!” Mina’s eyes bulged.

You swallowed,“I know who it is.”

Your friends all eyed the pieces of paper with matching handwriting and by the next day had convinced you to go up to the boy. You could feel their stares on you as you called out his name and beckoned him into the hall during homeroom period, asking if you could get his advice on something. You took a deep breath as you led him to a secluded window further down the hallway, mentally preparing yourself for denial.

“So what’s up?” He didn’t hesitate to follow you and ask,“You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You shrugged,“I guess I’ve just been a little… anxious, I guess? Good anxious, but still anxious nonetheless. You see, I’ve been getting these notes in my locker ever since day but there’s no name attached to them so it’s just a little weird. I’ve been trying to figure out who it is, racking my brain like crazy.”

“Can I see one?” Kirishima asked.

“Sure, here’s today’s.” You handed him over the crisply folded sheet of notebook paper, one you could now recognize and knew was getting thinner by the pages being ripped out daily. The note read: i wish i could tell you who i am.

You could see him gulp and leaped to take your chance.

“To be honest, I’d just wanna thank the person. I’ve been struggling with some confidence issues lately and their notes every day have really been keeping my spirits up.” You turned toward the window and away from him with a sigh,“They must not think they’re brave enough to tell me, but they shouldn’t be scared of—”

“Y/N…”

You turned around immediately, eyes widening at the fact that he’d used your first name. Kirishima was standing pin straight, holding the note tight in one hand and you almost felt bad for pushing him… but you had to know if your suspicions were correct. Besides, you hadn’t been lying. You really did want to thank him for always making you smile every day.

“It’s… I wrote the notes, I’m the one who’s been sneaking them into your locker every day.” He bowed slightly,“I apologize for not being man enough to sign my name or just say all these things to your face, but I wasn’t sure of how you’d react or what you would think of me.”

“Eijiro.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised as he straightened himself up.

You smiled,“I knew it was you.”

“How…?”

You shrugged, smiling slightly,“A lady never reveals her secrets.”

This made him laugh.

“I’m sorry that I pushed you to confess, I just wanted to know if I was right and I’m glad that I was, glad that you were the one, that is.” You smiled at him,“Your notes are very sweet and I’ve enjoyed having them every day.”

As the bell rung and your classmates started filing out of class you realized your time had run out, you smiled at your friends who were giving you questioning looks. You motioned with your hand for them to move along, smiling bigger when Kirishima turned around to find them gone.

You brought his attention back to you when you spoke again,“Anyway, thanks again. I should get going, I’ve got to get to math and start studying, I’ve got a makeup coming up since I didn’t do all that great on the last exam.”

He nodded, seemingly speechless.

You couldn’t really wait for a response regardless as you rushed to pack up your things and head to your next class before the final bell rung.

You did your best to focus on the extra lessons your teacher was nice enough to give for students who’d been confused about the last test, but all you could do with think about Kirishima and whether he’d stop leaving his notes now that you knew it was him. You somehow managed to avoid him for the rest of the day, and when your friends asked about it all you could do was shrug. Nothing happened, you would say, and it was true.

Nothing happened.

Until the next day, that was.

You were headed to your locker a little earlier than usual, eager to get back to your studies when several notes fell out of your locker. Your face heated up as you rushed to pick them all up, opening the first one carefully.

Only a single word was written on the sheet of paper and you worked quickly in order to unfold the remains slips, reading through it several times just to make sure you weren’t imagining it. It read:

will

you

go

out

with

me?

— eijiro

You shut the locker, forgetting all about your textbook in favor of trying to find him instead. Which was made extremely easy because when you turned around, there he stood.

Eijiro Kirishima.

He held a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and you spotted a plushie of your favorite character in the center of the arrangement. You thought his eye might’ve twitched nervously as he gave you his best smile, you quickly returned it.

“I was just coming to find you.”

“You found me.” He chuckled as he took a few steps closer,“Y/N, would you please do me the honor of going out on a date with me?— it doesn’t have to be today, I know you signed up for the makeup exam in math tomorrow, and actually! If you’d like, that is, I can help you study. I think I know the material well now, and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d love nothing more than to have the chance to be the man you deserve.”

“One condition.” You smiled, knowing there was no way you would’ve ever said no.

“Anything!” He agreed immediately.

You held up the unfolded hearts he always wrote his notes on,“I still get these every now and then, nonnegotiable, they really make my day.”

Eijiro’s cheeks went as red as his hair as he grinned big, nodding,“Every day.”

“Then yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” You accepted the bouquet he was holding out to you before leaning up slightly and placing a kiss on his cheek,“It’s beautiful, Eijiro, thank you.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

Now you were the one blushing, he’d used a nickname and you definitely liked it.

“You’re cute when you blush.” He complimented.

“Oh my god.” You tried to hide your face in the flowers, unable to stop the large smile from taking over your face.

He was quick to take them back out of your hands, as well as grabbing your book bag from you,“Better get used to it, princess, the notes were just a placeholder until I was able to man up enough to confess, but not a day will go by without a compliment from me, I can promise you that. And no more lugging around heavy textbooks when I’m here either.”

“Thank you, Eijiro.” You felt the blush move higher, your ears feeling warm now too.

“So, study date tonight?”

He’d never admit it, but he’d stayed up late last night going over the necessary chapters in order to be able to help you with your upcoming test. In truth, he had no clue how he passed over you, but he’d make sure it never happened again.

You took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you agreed,“Definitely.”

This time, he was the one to place a kiss onto your cheek as he led the way to homeroom, smiling— beautifully and unabashedly.

Princess treatment?

You could definitely get used to that.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

[nameuserlee]

“The heartless are the most faithful.”

Another part of Sylus’ lines compilation, all from interacting with him at the café. He is the gift that keeps on giving. Part 4 (links back to part 3, and so forth.)

“People who don't overthink things tend to sleep well. I'll think about you more when I can't sleep.” (I might be missing a few words here, I only got the first half of the line.)

“Having more plants in the bedroom isn't always good. You don’t need to keep bringing some back for me. They don’t produce oxygen when I'm awake.”

“You got me. I do have something in my hand that will pique your interest, sweetie. Have you decided what you’ll trade for it?”

“Is this a ticklish spot? I’m checking so you don’t accuse me of sneaking up on you later.”

“I found your weak spot. Heh, I won’t go easy on you now.” (Choose “Don’t do it!") “Good. I’ll take my time finding all your sensitive spots when I make my move.” (Choose "Nope.")

“How do we compare neck lengths? With a ruler?”(I’m sorry but LMAO.)

“You want to leave your scent here [on my neck]? You’ll have to work for it.”

“Are you planning to tie a red ribbon around my neck as if I’m your present?”

“(Y/N), keep it up. I like feeling your breath on my skin.”

“Your lips almost brushed against mine. It was hot.”

“I often place my hand here [on my heart] as well. It makes me feel alive.”

“(Y/N), does rummaging through my belongings provide a joyful experience? Your tail’s standing up straight, kitten. We should get a mirror so you can see for yourself.”

“At the fashion show, I saw a dress with the night sky stitched over a river. I ordered one for you. It'll be sent once the measurements are correct.”

“The scenery on page 37 of the travel magazine you were looking at a few days ago is nice. When we’re free, let’s clear our minds. Should we make that place our travel destination?”

“Do you want a distraction? Night fishing might work. If you spend one whole night fishing, you might get things like drift bottles, tattered hats, or plastic dinosaurs. They’re just jokes that fate throws at you.”

“When you feel like night fishing next time, head straight for that shop by the sea. Should I have someone get the yacht ready? We can set sail tonight.”

“Why am I inviting you to go fishing? No reason in particular. If I must give one… I’ve never a kitten catch a fish before. I’m very curious.”

“You already have Luke and Kieran acting like they’re your henchmen?”

“Anyone who has crossed me isn't active for long. Do you think you’ll be any different?”

“Those people's tracking skills are laughably bad. I lost them by just taking a random turn.”

“Do you see those 'little sparrows' keeping watch outside the window? Let’s make a bet. Guess how many will remain after a gunshot.”

He's a menace, what can I say. A cheeky, thoughtul, playful, and secretly sweet menace. I'm still cackling about that ruler line, btw. Let me go get one actually, hold still-

I think this'll be the last part for a while, I'm trying to raise his affinity level now. I've already exhausted basically all of the interesting lines I came across. Hope these were fun for you as much as they were for me :)

edit: he then proceeded to spew like five more new lines at me what a TREAT. might be able to squeeze one more compilation after all.

[relaxxattack]

can you imagine if they left the epilogue as it was without adding hs2. like if they leaned more into the “fanfic parody” aspect of it.

imagine if you read the homestuck epilogues and instead of being forced to contend with fascist jane for the next five years, the epilogues just ended with dirk saying “Oh and this was all a dream. Btw.”

like i think that would have been insanely funny. there would have been so so many memes about the officially licensed homestuck parody where rose and jade cheat on their marriages and dirk makes davekat kiss. i think everyone would have found that to be such a riot

it would have been way more fun to analyze too because instead of being forced to take 40yrold divorced dave seriously everyone could be like “what does it mean when on page 42 dirk described him as a white lanky bitch… what level of irony is this… what does it symbolize”

instead it feels like we got told a joke that we weren’t exactly in on, felt hurt about it, and now we’ve all been sitting around for half a decade waiting for a punchline that might never come

[rintaroll]

❝ INSIDE THE LINES. ❞

— during matsukawa's time babysitting your niece, more than a couple realizations occur to you.

⊱┊pairing. matsukawa issei x gn!reader ⊱┊tags. fluff, established relationship, reader has a 6 year old niece and works at the bakery, food mention, mattsun has a sleeve tattoo :], unedited ⊱┊wc. 1.3k ⊱┊note. cleaning out my drafts hehe this was back when i had my mattsun brain rot (OH btw while writing this he works as a tattoo artist in my mind but i didnt mention it anywhere)

© RINTAROLL

"issei, i'm so sorry-"

"it's fine," matsukawa waves his hand dismissively. his eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. "when are you coming home?"

"soon. i just have to frost the cupcakes and wait for the customer to pick them up." you pan your phone to the chocolate cupcakes, fresh out of the oven and still steaming hot.

"those look really good, babe." matsukawa muses.

you hear a small voice squealing from behind the camera. "i wanna see!"

your boyfriend chuckles, eyes trained on your niece, himeko, whose ears have perked up at the word 'cupcakes'. the six-year-old scrambles onto the sofa, comfortably nestling herself into matsukawa's side. her eyes widen when she finally sees the cupcakes in all their chocolatey goodness. "yummy..." she says, eyes boring into matsukawa's phone screen, unblinking and shiny.

you pan your phone back to your face. "they're not for you!" you remind her.

"i know!" himeko sighs dramatically, strands of hair falling onto her face. mattsun effortlessly brushes it back. "i have to wait for tomorrow so we can make them together."

"yes, that's right." you nod in approval.

"why can't it be tomorrow already?" she pouts. mattsun doesn't realize, but your eyes are trained on him while he stares at your niece while adorning an amused smile.

"hm," you ponder. "maybe if you sleep early tonight, then tomorrow will come earlier?" a sly grin forms on your lips.

himeko narrows her eyes at you. "that's not gonna work on me!"

you shrug. "worth a try."

matsukawa snickers at your failed attempt to trick her. "smart girl," he praises her before raising one of his hands, which is met with a high five from himeko. your niece then proceeds to stick her tongue out at you.

you shake your head, but there's a smile on your lips despite you doing so. she might as well steal your boyfriend at this point, you think to yourself.

you can almost remember the good times—when himeko was four and hiding behind your legs, while matsukawa was crouching in front of you. she was terrified, little hands gripping onto your pants. she told you he looked like a gangster, with all the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm. "what if he kidnaps me?" she wailed once he leaves, to which you comfort her by saying that he won't. from her skeptic expression and her glassy eyes, it was safe to say that she was far from convinced.

and yet now here you are. with your boyfriend and your niece in cahoots, conspiring together to overthrow you someday.

"anyways, i was calling because she wanted me to tell you she finished her coloring book, isn't that right, hime?"

halfway through his words, himeko lets out an 'oh!' and jumps up from the couch. she picks up her coloring book off the floor, where it was surrounded by an assortment of colored pencils and markers in disarray. flipping to the last page, she proudly shows off her latest piece of work. "look!"

you gasp, genuinely admiring the effort she's put into coloring in the drawing of a fish. considering how she's just turned six, she's done a wonderful job in coloring inside the lines. "that looks so nice! did you do that all by yourself?"

"yep!" she chirps, nodding excitedly before stopping to ponder for a moment. "hm... i guess, uncle mattsun did help me color the amenomies..."

"anemones," matsukawa stage whispers.

"right, amenemones."

you and matsukawa bite back your laughs. "it looks really good, himeko," you comment, still smiling.

himeko nods absentmindedly. it becomes obvious to both you and matsukawa that her attention is not on either of you anymore. she goes out of frame as she continues to flip through her coloring book and zeroes in on her work, leaving matsukawa the only one left in view of the camera.

your eyes flit to the top of your phone screen, clicking your tongue when you read the time. "alright, i better go and start frosting. the customer will be here soon. bye, himeko! bye, baby."

matsukawa's heart flutters helplessly. he will never get tired of you calling him that. "see you," your boyfriend beams. although still engrossed by her coloring book, you hear your niece mumble a soft 'bye' right before the call ends.

pocketing his phone, matsukawa turns his focus back on himeko only to find her tiny lips curled into a frown. "something wrong, sweets?"

she looks up, with her brows all scrunched up. matsukawa feels his heart melt at the sight. "i'm out of pages. what will i color now?"

"i'll buy you another one tomorrow, okay?" he pokes her nose.

with a giggle, she scrunches her nose in effect. "okay."

an idea spontaneously strikes matsukawa. it might be one of the best ideas he's had in a while—the realization that himeko brings out his creative side more often than not quickly becomes an afterthought.

"actually, hime..."

her ears perk up, big eyes staring up at him. those big, doe eyes he has not learned how to say no to.

"i know something else you can color."

matsukawa was sure he saw himeko visibly light up when he offers his tattooed arm. he doesn't need to tell her twice. she expeditiously collects her markers off the ground—she's big enough to know that pencil colors won't be able to color in your skin!—and spreads them out on the sofa next to where both of them sit.

snuggled into his side, matsukawa has his tattooed arm around her as himeko starts to color in the tattoos from the ones on his forearm. "i'll make sure your arm looks extra pretty!" she exclaims excitedly.

"can you make it look as pretty as you are?"

himeko tilts her head to the side as she thinks of an answer. "hm... maybe. i'll try." the earnestness in her answer makes matsukawa chuckle.

as himeko continues, her inquiries about his sleeve don't stop. did it hurt? (just a little bit.) what's the meaning behind this one? (there's no meaning to that one. this one, however...) are you gonna get a tattoo of y/n? (i already did.) can i get one too? (matsukawa laughs awkwardly when he hears the last question, immediately changing the topic by asking her what her favorite color is. he doesn't want to get into trouble.)

the conversations tone down when himeko makes it halfway through matsukawa's forearm. he knows himeko turns quiet once she's focused. it's only when matsukawa feels her marker slip that he realizes that she has nodded off. making as little movement as possible, he closes the cap on the red marker that she was holding and puts it aside.

half an hour later, you tip-toe into your living room with the intention to surprise your boyfriend and your niece at heart. as you get closer, suspicions start to arise when you realize that it's awfully quiet.

wait, are they-

oh.

they are.

your heart blooms at the precious sight of matsukawa and himeko fast asleep on the couch. matsukawa's head is lolled back on the back of the sofa, his arms around himeko as she is curled up into his side. they look so comfortable and peaceful, soft snores coming out of the both of them with hideko's head rising up and down along with matsukawa's chest with every breath that he takes.

you just finished snapping a quick picture when realization sets in.

and no, it's not about how matsukawa has successfully won her over for good—that realization has set in a long time ago.

but it's realizing that you want to spend the rest of your life coming home to this sight. him dozing off on the sofa, waiting for you to come home, and maybe a child, or two, of your own curled up next to him.

vocabulary !

himeko is written like so: 姫子 in kanji. 姫 (hime) means princess, while 子 (ko) means child. mattsun's nickname for her is hime, which essentially means he calls her 'princess'.

[pluckyredhead]

Did I just read your Super Sons primer from 2020 at 3 am on a Monday morning because I'm having a real normal one? Maybe?! I'm wondering how you feel about how they and their relationship has developed since then. IMO it's... Pretty bleak. 😩

I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT IT. (Also here's the primer for anyone who missed it.)

So I will say that 95% of everything Jon has been in since he got aged up has been hot garbage, but I do think the exception is when Damian is around. But let's take it from the top!

First of all, I don't necessarily think they should de-age him again. Generally speaking I think it's better storytelling to focus on fixing things moving forward, rather than undoing things moving back. Sure, if DC came up with some big cosmic event that reset Jon to 11, I certainly wouldn't complain, but I'd rather see them, uh...do literally anything with Teen Jon that doesn't suck.

But yeah, aging Jon up to begin with still makes me livid because:

I want my baby to have had a childhood.

It's fully character assassination for Lois and Clark. They would NEVER let their 11-year-old go to outer space with a supervillain. Lois would NEVER just abandon him out there, and Clark would NEVER respond with "Well, I'm sure he's fine, wanna have marathon sex?" I honestly have no idea what Bendis or his editor were thinking.

They have not done a single interesting with him since!!!

Putting this behind a cut because it got LONG. Also spoilers for Beast World in there.

I've said this before, but I have to assume that Bendis wanted to age Jon up because he wanted to write a Legion book. But he also in his wisdom decided to bring Kon back into continuity at exactly the same time, which means we have two nearly identical Superboys that DC didn't and still doesn't know what to do with. Kon clearly couldn't have joined the LOSH because he already had a team, but you know what Super teen was available, and not 11, and who has a history with the Legion that goes back almost as long as Clark's? KARA. But I will save that rant for another day.

And honestly, Kara dodged a bullet, because that Legion book was unreadable. Bendis at his most Bendis-y wall of text interrupt-y conversations and no plot. If I give Tom Taylor any credit it's that the second he got his hands on Jon, he torpedoed Jon/Imra as a ship. GOOD.

And when the LOSH book finally went out with a whimper (that JLA/LOSH miniseries! what was that!!!), we entered the Taylor Era. Taylor's quirks are less stylistic and more narrative than Bendis's. You can spot Bendisian dialogue at twenty paces, but a Taylor comic tips its hand when it sets up a really interesting premise or a really high stakes threat and then immediately undercuts it with a little wet fart noise of nothing. To wit:

Jon's starting college! This will be an interesting challenge for him to readjust to normal life after six years in a torture-volcano and an indeterminate amount of time in the future, and also considering he never graduated from sixth grade. I wonder what will - oh no he dropped out after three pages. (He has done NOTHING in his civilian identity since, btw. I guess he's too busy hovering just behind Dick at all times to work on his GED or whatever.)

Jon is going to confront Ultraman! Finally the comics will have to engage with all the trauma he must have - oh no Ultraman's dead.

Jon is trapped in the Injustice Universe! This is a really dangerous universe that might make him question everything he knows about - oh he just lectured everyone and flounced off home.

Beast World is a perfect example. Taylor seems to think that having a hero effortlessly solve a problem makes them look badass, but it's actually the effort that makes them look badass. So like, we spent five months keeping the Kryptonians and other A-class heroes away from the spores because the spores are attracted to power and if a Super got spore'd everyone would be in big trouble...but then in the last issue, they just have Jon fly up to everyone with a spore in them, wait for the spore to jump at him, and catch it? That doesn't make the Titans look smart or Jon look tough. It makes all of them look like idiots because it it was that easy, why didn't they do that in the first place?

On top of that, Taylor doesn't ever really earn relationships. Jon and Jay is the obvious one. Jay has no personality. There's no chemistry between the two characters. Jon might as well be dating a cardboard cutout labeled "Proof of Queerness." (Or "Bernard." Ahem.) But we're supposed to be like, yes, give Tom Taylor a GLAAD award for using queer characters as props, when he's going to turn around and kiss Chuck Dixon's ass on social for being homophobic about Jon? UGH.

Honestly worse for me though is the Jon and Dick relationship. Because Taylor is writing both characters, we're supposed to believe that there's this close mentor-mentee bond there? I don't think they EVER interacted before the Taylor era. (And don't even look at me with that retconned-in scene of Dick finding lost baby Jon. You're telling me that Superman, with his X-ray and telescopic vision, needs to call Bruce and Dick for help finding his own son? Fuck off.)

Anyway it all combines to make basically every Jon appearance for the past three years profoundly unsatisfying. Even the stuff that isn't by Taylor never goes anywhere. Remember when he was jealous of the Super Twins for two panels? And then everyone forgot about it forever? SIGH.

HOWEVER.

However.

If there is one thing that Bendis and Taylor and every other writer got right, it's that Jon is crazy bonkers in love with Damian always and forever. Jon has been written like shit since 2019, but he has also not wavered in his devotion for even one single solitary second.

THE EVIDENCE:

This is the first thing Jon does when he gets back to Earth:

He then tells Damian he's contemplating not joining the Legion because he'll have to leave Damian behind. Damian tells him to go and then come get him if it's cool.

Turns out the Legion is cool. Jon comes and gets Damian. The Legion isn't happy about it and Jon threatens to leave if Damian can't stay, while gazing adoringly at Damian's unconscious body cradled in his arms:

Eventually LOSH is canceled and Jon comes home and starts following Damian around by listening for his heartbeat. LIKE PALS DO!

Then Damian gives him a pep talk!

Then there's this ABSOLUTE CUDDLE:

The way Damian nuzzles into Jon's shoulder! Can you even stand it!

And then there's this:

The climax of Son of Kal-El, btw, is one of the several times Jon is saved by Damian and confides in Damian and turns to Damian for comfort or advice...and Jay is just sort of standing there off to the side. I am fully aware I have ship goggles on but the degree of emotional investment Jon has in these relationships is not the same.

Then they had a special issue teamup:

Then we got Dark Crisis, and I actually love this interaction between them, because they are very different people with very different upbringings and this feels extremely in character to me for how they would both handle the loss of their fathers:

But even when they disagree, they still instantly support each other. Jon comes back with information? Damian makes a plan:

Also, we got the 2022 Pride issue where Jon, Jay, and Damian go to Pride together. I know that story is...contentious...but leave me here with Damian sulking while Jon and Jay kiss, okay?

Then we get Adventures of Superman, which is objectively awful, but Jon does spend his whole time in the Injustice universe thinking about Damian like the seagulls in Finding Nemo saying "Mine? Mine? Mine?"

This whole arc is truly hilarious. Jon finds out that Damian accidentally killed Dick and his response is to a) go find Batman and yell at him for not supporting Damian enough for accidentally killing Dick, and then b) go find Damian to be like "Wow, that must have been really hard for you (accidentally killing Dick)." There's being ride or die for your BFF, and then there's whatever the fuck Jon has going on.

(Meanwhile there's an incredibly uncomfortable scene with him and Injustice Jay where Jay "tests" him by trying to get Jon to cheat on regular Jay. So. That happens.)

And then just this past month we got Nightwing #110, where we learn that Jon is still listening to Damian's heart:

He completely freaks out watching Damian in danger, and immediately intervenes when it looks like Damian is about to kill someone because he knows what matters the most to Damian. Also, this happens:

YOU WIN THIS ONE, TAYLOR.

AND THEN THEY BICKER I LOVE IT WHEN THEY BICKER:

AND THEN DAMIAN LETS HIMSELF BE VULNERABLE BY ASKING JON IF HE HURT ANYONE WHILE HE WAS A KITTY, AND JON GIVES YET ANOTHER SPEECH ABOUT HOW DAMIAN HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG EVER, IN HIS LIFE, AND DAMIAN STAGGERS OFF, LEANING ON JON.

This isn't even getting into the Trinity backup stories in Wonder Woman, which, like...Tom King is not valid but Jon and Damian are such an old married couple in them? It's truly incredible?

It took me like 45 minutes to parse Jon's line here as the general 'you" and not specifically Jon saying Damian wasn't straight. But like..."That's for straight people, which has nothing to do with us" is a hell of a thing to say, Jonathan.

I ALSO haven't even talked about DCeased because it's a different universe, but! Jon sitting with Damian while he dies??? MY HEART.

IN CONCLUSION:

Yes, they should never have aged up Jon.

Yes, most of his appearances since have been terrible and bland.

But OH BOY, do he and Damian remain in love.

[mydetheturk]

your requested reminder to post knives going nuclear on zazie when you can :)

ok so im going to be reblogging this to the body horrors week later cause. uh. well. knives. quite literally goes nuclear?

all of these screenshots are from the overhaul project cause i haven't managed to catch the dark horse digital editions on sale yet, though i'll provide the dark horse translations where i can because i have physical copies, and the dark horse translations are imo clearer here.

there are ids in all the alt texts for the photos, it's why this took several days longer than i'd originally planned -finger guns- alt texts might look a little weird in the first set btw - tumblr started eating the photoset and i had to spend an extra half an hour fixing it -finger guns-

the pages are volume 11, pages 90-92, and 114-17, because a lot of the pages in between are leadup pages and also have the zazie control worm. thing.

pages 90-2 are the distant explosion (you can click on the first image and see it in the photo viewer, if for some reason it will not view in dashboard mode. But it does exist!)

(on page 90, dark horse is a lot more specific, with "the northeast sky is glowing" instead of "the whole sky is glowing". the other two boxes with text read "what is--?!" and "oh my..!" respectfully as if they were cut off mid sentence.)

so uh.

knives went uh.

literal "nuclear bomb exploded just above a town"

because he kind of did. Unlike a true nuclear bomb, he did not form a mushroom cloud, but the metaphor is still there. that is a nuclear metaphor

per pages 114-117 (pages are from left to right, read the pages right to left. sorry)

(legato's speech bubbles on page 114 in the dark horse edition read: Survival of the fittest is the law of nature. What is about to happen now is a just a logical extension of that. Be very afraid. You are in his presence. Did you not notice, Leader of the Sand Worms?

It reads very differently, imo, more like Zazie was caught up in their own plots and schemes to realize the control worm didn't work. Legato is also telling Zazie that Zazie should be afraid of Knives. Okay? Not asking if Zazie is afraid. Telling Zazie to be afraid. Like some sort of reverse "Be Not Afraid" from the bible.

Zazie's thought bubbles on page 115 are translated as "the dark hole is swallowing the poison" which reads more like knives made a black hole. given the visuals? that sounds more likely. Black holes, as a real life thing that we know about and have tried to study, are often referred to as swallowing things that pass too close. knives made a mini black hole to eat the poison from the sand worm venom. knives has consumed the dependent plants.)

the fact is, as a metatextual read, plants are nuclear reactors. independent plants are walking nuclear bombs. Nightow did this on purpose. We're meant to read them as something nuclear.

This is, as i was saying to @needle-noggins the other night when i was working on it in an attempt to get more of the alt texts written, a casual display of power. Knives is throwing a hissy fit! Knives is throwing a multi-megaton display of power because Zazie tried to take him over with the control worm. Page 91 had needle-noggins and i speechless because on the low end that tower of debris from the explosion is (if we did the very, very rough math right) THIRTY MILES TALL. Twice as tall as the tallest mountain in the solar system, Olympus Mons! or roughly five and a half times as tall as Mount Everest. On the outside, because we figured its anywhere from 25-30 times taller than the cloud cover, it could be up to thirty seven miles

Over halfway to space on earth.

like.

I know we love the independent plants and all. But Holy Shit. just.

holy shit

[saturnznct]

getting ready | ldh

➸ request from anon; sorry i just managed to see ur masterlist which you have already done that request i just sent😆 i will read! but could you instead write reader wearing dresses on and her bump getting bigger and husband haechan telling her constantly how in awe he is whilst reader is pregnant? complimenting and telling her how beautiful she looks and maybe even joking how he doesn't mind making another baby right now haha your page is godsend btw im so happy to have come across 💚

➸ note; hehe thank you angel i appreciate it so much! hope u like this <3

➸ word count; 526 words

➸ sunhee; in the womb lol

➸ warning(s); quite suggestive, issues with body image? brief vomit mention

nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Oh wow,’ Donghyuck makes you jump as he appears in the doorway. 

‘Stop, you scared me,’ you whine, ‘could’ve put me in early labour.’

‘Sorry,’ he grins, ‘you just look gorgeous.’

The four, nearly five of you had recently moved back to Jeju in preparation for the birth of your final child, the gender of which you had decided to leave a surprise. Your house in Jeju is beautiful, you’ve had it for a number of years now. It’s close enough in-land to be close to your in-laws, but far enough out that the seaside is not too long of a drive away. It was such a difference from Seoul, the air infinitely cleaner and life more slow-paced and relaxed. Rather than spending your evenings listening to cars honking, opening your curtains to see the grey smokey air, you hear seagulls and can see the ocean from your windows. Your move made infinitely more time for your family to spend time together, especially in the run up to welcoming your baby. Now that the weather was warming up, you would spend a lot of time outside, going on picnics or walks on the beach.

You were currently getting ready for one of these outings, going for an evening dinner at an outdoor seafood restaurant you frequented. 

Not much fit you these days, so you opted for a flowing maternity dress that reached just above your ankles. You’d worn minimal makeup, figuring you would sweat most of it off walking around in the heat. You felt huge, feet and ankles all swollen and sore, the size of your baby putting pressure on all of your organs, making it painful to move around sometimes. Yet Donghyuck was still so enamoured with you, taking every opportunity to dote on you and your body.

‘You look so beautiful,’ he approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around you in a back hug, ‘my beautiful glowing wife.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ you fidget with your dangling earrings, attempting to brush him off, but he reminds persistent.

‘Don’t argue with me,’ he whines, ‘you’re stunning, gorgeous.’

‘I don’t feel it,’ you laugh dryly, ‘but thank you Hyuck.’

‘Well, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me,’ he kisses your neck, ‘especially when you’re carrying my baby. In fact, why don’t we make another one after you pop this one out?’

‘Donghyuck!’ You slap his arm, ’there is no way.’

‘Pretty please,’ he whines, ‘wanna put another baby in you.’

‘Donghyuck! No more babies after this one, like we planned.’

He huffs, knowing you’re right, ‘spoilsport.’

‘Whatever,’ you roll your eyes, reaching up and pinching his cheek, ‘you’ll change your mind once the baby’s here and crying and throwing up constantly, and the kids get jealous and start acting up.’

‘True,’ he shrugs, ‘but it’s worth it to see you like this.’

‘Daddy,’ your children call from down the hall, ‘are we going yet?’

‘We’re coming!’ Donghyuck calls back, before kissing your cheek firmly, ‘come on, lets go get dinner. And then, when we get home, we can have dessert.’

‘Whatever, Donghyuck,’ you laugh, knowing he will definitely follow up on his plans. 

[bleachbleachbleach]

[Bleach 072]

This scene is important to me for the express reason that Hitsugaya was apparently the one to tell Jidanbou about these rules. Because they are friends! We know this not from any in-story interactions but from one line in Hitsugaya's Souls profile:

[Souls 133]

I'll be honest with you, I've never actually read Souls and have never thought about where it ties to canon temporally, but the answer to that is apparently sometime before Hitsugaya confronts Ichimaru.

This amuses me because at this point we know all of five things about this guy, and one of the five is that he's friends with Jidanbou. We don't even know the name of his Zanpakutou (that's the "?" in his stats profile box), but we know he's FRIENDS WITH JIDANBOU.

I don't have the English version of this page, apologies, but basically it's just like, Hitsugaya is a shinigami who comes from Rukongai, he's the youngest Captain in history, and he's currently investigating the Rukia business and trying to bring Ichimaru's shit to light. By the way, he's friends with Jidanbou and taught him the "Rules of the City." (Then the bottom sidebar is about how Hitsugaya treats Hinamori like blood, and wants to protect her.)

Which honestly makes this Jidanbou connection even funnier because Hinamori, the reason Hitsugaya is even in this story and the only reason we know this much about him (through Hinamori's Academy flashback), gets a neat sidebar, but the line about Jidanbou is just thrown in at the end of the main narrative like, beeeeee-tee-dubs!!

I've always wanted to write fanfic about this, but I haven't yet come up with a premise that was actually interesting to me. I assume they get paired up in this way for the size kink, though internal to the narrative that only gets us so far. After that it's like, okay, they're both associated with West Rukongai, so there's that. They're probably both socially ostracized: According to himself, people in Junrinan find Hitsugaya off-putting because of his white hair and his, well, off-putting demeanor; people probably make fun of Jidanbou because he's enormous and speaks with a lisp (though this doesn't carry into the Viz)/doesn't come across as normatively cognitively developed. But I'm kinda like, okay, sure, whatever. The most interesting part about that for me is still that Hitsugaya has a casual friend at all, because what few relationships we do see are extremely not casual. But also BTW Jidanbou!

I still think my favorite version of this relationship is the one where, while Hinamori's been off at school, Hitsugaya casually mentions to her that he's friends with Jidanbou the Gate Guardian, with absolutely zero explanation, as a child might about a brand new ride-or-die friend, as though this were completely normal and natural for him, and that's all that's ever said about it. Hitsugaya is definitely someone who has a mental white paper for anything he's ever done, which is why I find the contrast/discrepancy so appealing.

If my life depended on writing Hitsugaya Jidanbou friendship, though, I'd probably start with the City Rules. Because:

Jidanbou has been guarding this gate for 300 years. We don't know how long Hitsugaya has been living in Junrinan, but we do know he would not have had first-hand experience with any City Rules more than ~35 years ago. Not that you need to go to the city to know the rules, but I think canon Hitsugaya establishes pretty well that he doesn't talk about things he's not interested in or things that he doesn't have personal verified knowledge of. So for the first 265 years, no one bothered telling Jidanbou very much about this place he was guarding (not even his brother). He's a utility, and one that lives outside the gates (FUGAIKUUUU)--also one that's not perceived as smart enough for that information to be meaningful. But that whole vibe is not really Hitsugaya's style, because he loves an infodump--but also because he has a bone to pick with the notion of instrumentality.

If we're making a point of saying that Hitsugaya taught Jidanbou the "Rules of the City" (in quotation marks), we're introducing an interlocutor's specific POV. I'm not saying Hitsugaya's just making shit up for the hell of it, but how important these rules are, why these would be the top 3, what their original contexts were vs. being pulled out like this, and what's a literal municipal code vs. a social more vs. just something Hitsugaya has personal commentary about, are up in the air. What I'm saying is, I feel like these have "a gigai is for eating beans" energy.

At minimum, I enjoy this because this is all information that is completely incidental not only to the main storyline but ALSO to the Detective Hitsugaya B-side. But I love that Bleach is consistently so, so interesting about all these characters and their POVs and the rules that do or don't exist in the world, particularly at these early junctures, where most of what we've heard about Soul Society is from Rukia, and a lot of it we've already seen contradicted; and we'll continue to as the arc unfolds. Who even NEEDS Kyouka Suigetsu??

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 16. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, Sex pollen / Love Potion so copious dub-con. Cormac calls Reader a Slut (during sex - not during an argument).

Summary: You want to celebrate Carmichael's return but you have anxiety. Thankfully McLaggen can always help you let some steam off.

A/N: We're really just killing time with the power of friendship (and smut) until the Battle of Hogwarts here.

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana(let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 16: Relax

The party is in full swing as you sit anxiously on the couch, absently toying with the label from an unopened bottle of Madam Rosmerta’s mead in your hands. From here you can keep an eye on the front door and watch the others milling around in the kitchen.

You’re supposed to be joining in with the others, celebrating Eddie Carmichael’s release from Azkaban but when you look at the discarded Daily Prophet on the coffee table, a knot twists in your stomach.

Three photos dominate the front page under the headline “Mass Breakout from Azkaban: Quidditch Conspiracy?” Two professional headshots of Krum and Davies respectively, looking intimidatingly composed in their Lyon Quidditch robes and a picture of you in your Azkaban ones, looking quite the opposite.

You reread the caption underneath, although at this point it’s committed to your memory - permanently. 

‘Undesirables. Contact the Ministry of Magic immediately if you have any information concerning the whereabouts of the organisation known Dumbledore’s Army or the disappearance of Cormac McLaggen and Marietta Edgecombe. Reward five thousand galleons.’

“You alright, Keeps?” 

You look up when Alicia drops herself onto the sofa next to you. You nod and stop fidgeting with the bottle, trying to appear nonchalant.

“You’re not. I can still tell when something’s on your mind,” she says.

“I’m just keeping an eye out. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us all to let our guard down.” You look edgily at the door. 

She chuckles. “You haven’t changed a bit. Always so serious - too serious. Relax. Enjoy the party.”

You purse your lips, holding back the rebuttal on the tip of your tongue. Her statement is half true but you can’t help feeling her assessment is an unfair one. You have changed. But to give yourself credit - this is serious. There’s a war going on and you’re all in here, partying as if it’s the end of term and you’ve just finished your exams. Nobody’s behaving like you’re wanted by the Ministry.

“I just think at least one of us should keep their wits about them. Just in case something happens.” Your eyes find the door again.

“What are you gonna do? Fight off the Death Eaters single-handed while we watch?”

“What are you gonna do? Get so wasted you can’t point your wand straight?”

“We’ll be fine.”

You look up at Carmichael and McLaggen, laughing together at the other side of the kitchen. 

Carmichael, even more so than you, bears the gaunt look of someone who’s spent time in Azkaban but his smile lights up his face so brightly that it’s almost easy to forget how recently he escaped. Your brow softens when you see him slap McLaggen on the back in reaction to some joke you can’t hear.

“Well, maybe something about you has changed,” says Alicia, watching you observe the two of them across the room.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I kind of had a feeling you’d settle down with a guy when your experimental phase was over.”

You snap back around to look at her. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?”

You feel adrenaline rising in your chest, your body instinctively reverting to a state of readiness for one of your and Alicia’s notorious screaming matches.

“You know what, Alicia? You broke up with me so I don’t have to justify who I end up with or why.”

“Well, it might have been different if I’d known you’d resort to dating an idiot like McLaggen when there were no other lesbians left at Hogwarts. I could have at least warned you.”

“He’s not an idiot.” You hear scuffling at the other side of the kitchen and look up to see Carmichael and McLaggen play fighting, trying to put each other in a headlock. You close your eyes and let out an exasperated breath. 

Alicia laughs. “Come on, he’s everything you hate. Arrogant. Entitled. I heard he even got into an argument with Harry Potter when he wasn’t picked for the Quidditch team.”

“He was confunded!”

She pulls a face. “He was? He was reminiscing about the whole sorry tale with Wood and Angelina about it yesterday morning and never mentioned that bit. Just seemed to think Potter had just missed a trick, not recruiting the amazing Cormac McLaggen.”

Your stomach drops. He still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that you knew Hermione Granger confunded him and never said anything.

“I’m not listening to you talking shit about my boyfriend - yes, boyfriend - when you’re staying here at his place,” you say and get to your feet. “You know, you haven’t changed either, Alicia.”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me why.”

“You’re still a dickhead.”

You hear her scoff behind you as you go to the kitchen and interrupt McLaggen and Carmichael’s boisterous laughter.

“Hey,” McLaggen says in a cautiously optimistic sort of way when you come over. “Do you need a bottle opener?”

“No. Do you have a minute?” you ask him and his expression becomes serious.

McLaggen puts down his drink and opens the kitchen door into the garden. When you follow him outside he shuts the door behind you and leans on the edge of a planter filled with lavender and sage.

“Everything alright? I saw you talking to Alicia. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Cormac, I need to tell you something.”

He straightens up with the demeanour of someone bracing themselves, pulling his shoulders back. “Cormac? Something must be up if you’re calling me that.” 

You take a deep breath. “Do you remember your Quidditch tryouts? How you missed the last penalty?”

“...Yes? Sort of?” he says uncertainly.

“Well -” You swallow nervously. “- Hermione Granger confunded you. And I found out and didn't tell you.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows knit together worriedly. “Then what?” 

“That’s it.”

“That’s what you came out here to tell me?” He laughs and runs his hands through his hair. “I thought you were about to break up with me or something.”

“What? No!” His palpable relief is confusing you. “You’re not annoyed with me?”

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you close to him. You stand between his legs and rest your forehead against his chest. His arms are like a warm, weighted blanket around your shoulders. “I’m not annoyed with you about school Quidditch tryouts. You’re acting like you confunded me - not Granger.”

“I should have told you or Madam Hooch or, well, anyone,” you tell his chest. “But I didn’t because I thought Ravenclaw’s chances would be better if Weasley was Keeper.”

He snorts a laugh. “Well, you were wrong. I was awful when I played in that one match, remember?”

“You’re really not mad at me?”

“You’re forgetting I already know how ruthless you are when it comes to Quidditch. I just can’t believe you’ve been feeling guilty all this time.”

“I sort of forgot about it until I was speaking to Alicia.”

“What else were you guys talking about? I looked over and, well, it looked deep.”

“Definitely not deep. She was just saying I’m too serious and that you’re arrogant and entitled.”

“Lots of opinions for someone who broke up with you and barely knows me.” McLaggen rolls his eyes.

“Do you think I’m too serious?”

He looks down at you, considering you for a moment. “I think you worry a lot and that it’s probably exhausting to live in your head. And don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot to worry about right now, but sometimes I think you think you need to be responsible for it all. And you don’t.”

You nod. “I don’t feel great about having a party when people like me are in hiding.”

“We’re still hiding. Or have you also forgotten you’re a fugitive responsible for my kidnapping?” He raises an eyebrow.

“And you’ll never escape,” you say, allowing yourself a small smile.

“I hope not.” He smirks. “What about me? Think she’s right”

“Entitled? No. Arrogant? Yes. But in fairness, you don’t have a lot to be modest about.”

“Lucky you,” he says, with that cocky look you love so much, waiting for your usual sharp retort. But you just bring your hand up to touch his handsome face.

“I am.”

“You’re supposed to argue and say I’m the lucky one. Now I do sound like an entitled dick.”

“I can’t believe you thought I might be coming out here to break up with you.” You’re not sure where you’d be without McLaggen right now. Probably holed up somewhere alone, or worse, still in Azkaban. 

“To be honest, that still sounds more plausible than you apologising for keeping a secret about Quidditch tryouts last year when there’s a war going on.”

“Yeah…” You frown when you hear raucous laughter coming from inside the lighthouse.

He kisses the top of your head. “How about you and I sit this one out? The Fidelious Charm is impenetrable. Everyone who knows about headquarters is in there right now. But if it makes you feel better, we can.”

And his words of comfort make you believe it in a way that Alicia simply dismissing your concerns and telling you to relax didn’t. Really believe it. That you’re safe. 

And that you’re not overreacting. That he gets it. 

Gets you.

You shake your head. “You’re right. I need to stop worrying. At least for tonight. Let’s go back inside and enjoy ourselves. Angelina, Wood and Alicia are going home tomorrow - when are we all going to get to do this again?”

He tilts his head. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m always sure when I’m with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weave your way through the party, chatting and occasionally accepting drinks thrust into your hands as music plays from McLaggen’s Uncle’s radio. You pass Davies as he leaves Krum on the sofa to get more drinks. You replace his empty seat next to Krum.

“I like this,” Krum says, looking appraisingly around the room.

“It’s all Carmichael’s doing. If there’s one thing he’s mad for, it’s a party. He was probably planning the whole thing in Azkaban.”

“Not the party. It is like having friends. Not just fans.”

You look at him a little sadly. He’s not expecting sympathy but the matter-of-fact way he said it makes your heart sink. You know what it feels like to not have many friends. It was only this year, after all, that you made your own.

“You can’t take part in a prison breakout without becoming friends at the end of it,” you smile.

He takes a sip of beer thoughtfully, looking at McLaggen. “At first, I am not so sure when he says you are his girlfriend. You are very bossy. But now I am thinking you are a good match. He is a good leader too. He fought vell in Azkaban.”

His unsolicited, backhanded compliment out of nowhere makes you laugh.

“Thank you. I think?”

Krum nods at Cho talking to Davies. She laughs hard at something he says and her long, shiny hair swishes in the dim light of the kitchen. “I also think your friend is very pretty. But I knew Diggory. They were together at the Yule Ball.”

“They were. But she can’t be expected to be alone forever. She’s had boyfriends since Cedric if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“This is good to know.” He stands up. “I’ll see you later,” he adds bluntly, standing up and making a beeline for Cho as if worried that any time she spends talking to Davies instead of him is an opportunity wasted.

Before you have time to be offended by Krum’s abrupt departure, Carmichael launches himself next to you, followed closely by McLaggen who slaps Carmichael’s head and squeezes between you. 

“Keep your bloody hair on. You could have just asked me to shift over,” says Carmichael, slapping him back. “You alright, mucker?”

You nod. “You’ve done it again, Carmichael. Some party.”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about in Azkaban for the past month,” he says and you feel warm satisfaction - somehow knew that’s exactly what he’d have been doing without you there. “Needed something to think about when you done a bunk.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie -“ you start but absurdly he just laughs.

“Only winding you up.”

“I didn’t want to leave you there alone. I swear.” Even though Carmichael is just teasing, you still feel like you need to explain. 

“It’s true - it’s the first thing she said when she saw me,” confirms McLaggen with a slightly awkward look. “I wanted to get you out at the same time, it’s just that -“

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, alright? Maz got me up to speed, didn’t she? You broke into Azkaban for me. Can’t ask for much more than that.”

You nod. It still barely feels real. You did it. You got him out. And he’s doing… surprisingly well. “I can’t believe you’re so upbeat. I was a mess.”

“The Patronus every night kept me going. And I kept our old routine up.”

“What routine?” asks McLaggen, looking confused.

“You never told him about our very exciting schedule?” asks Carmichael.

“I’ve not told anyone anything about Azkaban, to be honest. Except the layout so we could draw up a plan.”

“Well, we’d recite facts all day and do burpees all night to keep sane. I think I’ve nearly remembered every plant from ‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’,” reminisces Carmichael.

“That was basically all we did until the Patronus came. We couldn’t chat or anything or else the Dementors would sense us having fun. But when your Patronus showed up we could actually talk about things that mattered,” you add and squeeze McLaggen’s hand.

“You really did us a solid, mate.”

McLaggen nods at Carmichael and returns the squeeze of your hand gently.

As the night goes on, you, McLaggen and Carmichael are soon joined by Marietta as you catch up sitting on the fat leather couches. Leanne and Rodger Davies appear too and McLaggen pulls you onto his knee so Leanne can sit down, while Davies plants himself on a cushion on the floor. You look at the old grandfather clock - Krum and Cho have been conspicuously missing for almost an hour.

“You think they’re… they’re alright though?” you ask, looking at the kitchen window. You’re worried they’ve accidentally stepped outside the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm. 

“They’re fine,” insists McLaggen. “Trust me, you don’t want to stumble across something you can’t unsee.”

Just then, Cho and Krum burst through the back door in a more giggly fashion than you’d have expected from the internationally famous player.

“Oi, oi,” grins Carmichael. “Where you been?” They glance at each other and there’s an obvious silence as they hesitate. The only the sound is of The Weird Sisters coming through the radio.

“I remember this,” says Krum, changing the subject. “This vos the music at the Yule Ball.”

“Isn’t it funny that we were all at the Yule Ball?” asks Leanne. “Who would have thought three years later, we’d all be here together?”

Not you, anyway. For most of your time at Hogwarts, your only close friend was Cho and briefly, Alicia. Now you’re quite literally surrounded by friends.

A thought strikes you. “Who did you go to the Yule Ball with?” you ask McLaggen. You didn’t really know him back then.

He clears his throat. “Er, one of the girls from Beauxbatons.” You don’t fail to notice the sympathetic look Leanne gives him. Neither does McLaggen. “It’s alright,” he laughs. “I’m over it now. Really.”

“Wait, what happened?” you ask.

“Took his V-card and fled the country,” says Carmichael.

“Oi, it wasn’t like that.” Carmichael raises his eyebrows at him. “Alright, maybe that was the jist of it.”

“I hear that, mate,” says Davies and you give him a tight-lipped smile in commisseration, remembering how he was devastated when Fleur Delacour went home to France and never wrote back to him.

“What about you?” asks McLaggen. “Who did you go with?”

You shrug. “I didn’t have a date. I just went alone.”

“Yeah, but you never finished the night alone,” says Alicia, coming over with Wood, Katie and Angelina. “Remember?”

At the Yule Ball, Alicia noticed that you didn’t have a date either. And you hadn’t wasted time in finding out why she too had spurned invitations from the boys at Hogwarts. But you’d rather she didn’t flaunt it in front of your current boyfriend, who you notice, holds onto your waist a little firmer than before as you sit in his lap.

“I am thinking that I am not the only one who vos heartbroken after the Trivizard Tournament,” says Krum, and you’re grateful that the normally stoic Seeker has warmed up enough to change the subject again. He looks intently a Cho. “I vos sorry about vot had happened to Diggory.”

Cho smiles, a little sadly but she doesn’t look upset. “He would have been here too. At headquarters with us. He’d have loved being part of the D.A.”

As the night draws into the small hours of the morning, the group begins to retire to bed. Alicia, Angelina and Wood make their excuses since they’re getting up early to leave tomorrow. Soon after Katie and Leanne yawn and declare they’re tired and go upstairs too, shortly followed by Davies. 

“Right then. Party favours anyone?” asks Carmichael, wiggling his eyebrows at the five of you remaining.

Without waiting for a reply, he leaps off the sofa and runs up the stairs.

“Where’s he going?” you ask Marietta.

“Probably to get something from his bag.”

This perplexes you. “Where’d he get his bag?”

“I stole it from the Department of Magical Confiscated Items before I left the Ministry.”

“You did?!”

“Marietta Edgecombe.” McLaggen whistles, impressed. “It should be your mug shot in there.” He points to the front page of the Prophet, still open on the table. But Marietta just flips her hair over her shoulder with a proud smile as she hears Eddie trundling back downstairs with something clutched in his hand.

“Right, here we go,” says Eddie putting three heart-shaped vials on the table.

“Nope, no way,” you say. You recognise them immediately as love potion.

“Look, it’s different. You drank a whole bottle last time, didn’t ya? If you have half each it’s a better experience.”

You and McLaggen exchange glances. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself again.

“What was it like last time?” Cho asks you. “I’ve never had a love potion before.”

“What do you mean ‘what was it like?’ - you saw me.”

“No, I remember that. Vividly,” grins Cho, and you expect she too is remembering you trying to kiss her like a possessed maniac. “What did it feel like?”

“I dunno, I was in a weird state of mind.” You and McLaggen were broken up and you remember begging him to fuck you in the cubicle as he resisted your pleas. “But it still felt… good, I guess. Circumstances aside.”

That’s an understatement. It felt really good. You wonder what it’d be like if McLaggen wanted you in the same insane, feral way you wanted him that night. It’s not as if he’s shy when he’s feeling amorous but still, the idea makes your cheeks flush. 

“Should we?” you ask him.

“You want to?” He reaches across your legs to pick up the small bottle. “I’m not doing it right here though.”

“Good, I don’t even remotely want to know what your turned-on face looks like, mate,” laughs Carmichael before swerving a cushion that McLaggen tosses at his head.

“Are you guys…?” You look between Marietta and Cho. Marietta nods but Cho looks at Krum waiting for his answer. He shakes his head and Cho looks slightly disappointed. 

“Not tonight,” says Krum. “I vant to be lucid when I’m with you.”

She looks taken aback by his forwardness but it cheers her up significantly. McLaggen hesitates looking at the bottle but you press his hand closed and look at him meaningfully. Maybe, just maybe, using it with him could repair your so-far tainted relationship with the potion.

McLaggen tears his eyes from your hungry look and helps you to your feet. “Right, we’re turning in to get some rest. See you guys later.”

You squeal when he grabs your hand, dragging you towards the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You close the bedroom door behind you and lock it with a wave of your borrowed wand. You pause thoughtfully. “I’m gonna move the chest of drawers in front of the door - just in case.”

“A bit overkill, isn’t it?” asks McLaggen.

“I wanted to fuck anything and everything last time. It’s just an extra precaution.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, turning the small vial in his hands and sitting down on the bed. “You sure it’s not going to be too intense for you? We don’t have to.”

“I mean, based on what happened to me last time, you know you lose most of your autonomy, right? All you’ll want to do is fuck me.”

“That’s all I want to do most of the time as it is,” he grins. 

“I’m serious. It’s like losing yourself and only listening to the horny part of your brain.”

He doesn’t look too concerned with this revelation. “Sure you want to do it again? You hate love potions.”

“I just hate bad experiences with them. Are you sure you want to?”

“I’m always sure when I’m with you,” he says as you sit down on the edge of the bed beside him. He opens the stopper decisively and takes a drink. You both stare at the bottle.

“That’s almost all of it…” you say, your pulse rate quickening, remembering how you felt when you drank an entire bottle. 

“It felt like barely a sip!” He holds it up to the light. “I think there’s about a quarter left.”

“That’s a generous estimate.” 

McLaggen is much bigger than you after all - maybe it’s fine if he has more. You take the tiny bottle, drink the last few drops and when the liquid spills down your throat you immediately feel it warming in your chest. The burning sensation sinks lower and lower into your pelvis.

You look at Cormac. God, he’s beautiful with his messy curls and his eyes focusing intently on your face. But his usually bright green eyes almost look black right now. 

“Your eyes…” you say, blinking up at him.

“My eyes?” He blinks a few times. “What about your eyes? They’re so pretty.” He cups your face with both hands. “So, so pretty.”

With difficulty, you tear your eyes off him and look at the door.

“Let me just move the drawers,” you say, turning on the bed to face the door so you can grab the wand lying on the other side of the mattress. “Wingardium Leviosa - oh fuck -”

Your careful movement of the drawers is interrupted when Cormac crawls behind you on all fours and clambers over you, squeezing your tits from behind and knocking your wand arm so they crash into the door with a thud.

“Wait - Cormac -“ The feeling of his hot breath against your ear as he nuzzles into your neck makes your cunt throb. You extend your wand arm towards the door again. “Muffliato.”

White noise buzzes around the bedroom door as you place your wand down and try to turn around to kiss him but his body cages you in, preventing you from changing position. 

Cormac roughly pushes your T-shirt and bra up over your head so he can grope the bare flesh of your chest from behind. 

“Fuck. You smell so good,” he says, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

You feel his cock pressing against your backside. You want his touch more than anything right now but there’s a niggling feeling at the back of your mind. The sensible, ‘too serious’ part of your brain is yelling at you. Calling you an idiot for locking yourself in. But the love potion flowing through your veins is shouting louder. Telling you to do whatever will ease the throbbing sensation in your underwear.

Your core burns when he removes a hand from your chest and you hear the gentle clinking of his belt unbuckling. He’s never asked to fuck you like this before - you don’t mean under the effect of love potion - but from behind. And without any preamble, insistence on eating your pussy first or sweet murmured words of how much he loves you.

Silently he reaches around and unbuttons your jeans and when his hand brushes over your pussy you let out a whimper. It’s only the lightest graze but your skin tingles in response. Cormac pulls your jeans and underwear down to your knees, not even bothering to remove them completely as you remain on all fours.

“Fuck,” comes his low, ragged breath when he sees your pussy - blushed pink, sopping wet and ready for him to do whatever the fuck he wants with you.

Suddenly his chest is pressed up against your back and the length of his cock rubs underneath you, along your lips and brushing your clit. Every sensation is heightened. From the way his hands find your hard nipples to how his stubble scratches your shoulder as he kisses and bites your skin.

You feel yourself getting stickier and wetter from the way he’s dragging his length along your cunt. Until you realise he’s barely moving at all - that it’s you who’s pushing back against him chasing the gentle friction while he sucks a fresh bruise on your shoulder blade.

Cormac’s hands cease their rough groping of your body and you feel him position himself at your slick entrance. The head of his cock slowly glides between your folds but you can’t wait for him to slowly sink into you. Full of longing, you urge your hips backwards, feeling a shiver go up your spine as he penetrates you.

“So fucking tight…” he groans as he grips the soft curve of your hips and you rock on your knees until he’s pressed flush up against you. You unsteadily bring your hand to your clit but he reaches round and pushes your own hand aside so he can toy with the pulsing bundle of nerves, begging for attention. The rough pads of his fingers, coated in your juices, dance against you in time with your rocking. 

Bright, white light - brighter than any Patronus - flickers behind your eyelids as you chase the sensation. You pant and whine under his touch, feeling like a wild animal in heat as you get yourself off on his cock. But why isn’t he moving? You had expected from the way he crawled on top of you that he’d be desperate to fuck you too. 

“Cormac, fuck - fuck me… please,” you babble, knowing how much he likes it when you beg for him. The steady rhythm of his fingers picks up, rubbing in circles all over your clit.

“I can’t - can’t -” He swallows.

You push your hips back harder, gyrating into him as far as you can, feeling the stinging stretch of his cock opening you up as your body cries out for him. You bounce back wildly against his still body and your pussy clamps and convulses around him. Cormac frantically works your clit under his hand, guiding you to the blinding light just out of your own reach.

“Why?” You sob, in a pathetic, drawn-out wail. You were sure he’d want you the way you wanted him in the Prefect Bathroom. The way you want him right now. But here you are, making an idiot of yourself again, the love potion making you act in a way that you know is embarrassingly unbecoming but your body doesn’t seem to care.

He grits his teeth. “If I start - I won’t - I can’t be gentle.”

Oh shit.

“Don’t be gentle, then. Fuck me - fuck, fuck…”

Pleasure floods through your entire body, the love potion setting every nerve ending ablaze as your orgasm takes hold of you. You don’t even realise how loudly you’re cumming until he grunts your name and you can barely hear it over your own mewling.

Your arms give way and your face presses against the sheets as you collapse in a dishevelled heap, catching your breath and feeling your cunt twitch helplessly in the wake of your orgasm. The feeling you’ve only experienced once before, of love potion evaporating from your consciousness and your thoughts becoming instantly coherent, washes over you as your chest heaves and intense clarity sets back in.

He pulls out of you and your hips slump down to meet the bed too. But the anticipated sensation of his cum leaking out of you doesn’t happen.

“Did you…?” You look over your shoulder and watch him silently remove his T-shirt over his head. He clenches his jaw as he takes off his jeans. Cormac straddles your lying figure from behind and his hands massage the flesh of your ass, roaming over your curves until his thumbs spread your pussy - still flushed and swollen for him.

“Are you okay?” you ask. He doesn’t reply - he simply adjusts himself, taking hold of his warm, wet cock. You suck sharply through your teeth when he forces himself down into your sensitive cunt. 

Oh, fuck.

You can barely move. You try to tilt your hips up, to find a better angle but his weight on your thighs presses down on you - hard. Maybe if you had a pillow to lie on…

“Let me just grab -”

His hand comes down with lighting quick reflexes and pins your outstretched arm.

“No.”

He grinds down on you, using his forearm to push on your back so you’re flat against the mattress as his cock rams undiscerningly against your G-spot. And you realise, as he ramps up pace, that he was fighting against the love potion, letting you cum first so he could finally give in to the urge to fuck you mercilessly.

Cormac’s hand laces through your hair and wrenches your head back. He kisses you desperately but you wince and attempt to pull back. He makes a shushing noise, his lips pressing against the side of your face. 

“Shh, just take it… take it… take it…” Every hushed insistence is punctuated with a thrust.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Cormac is taking your permission not to be gentle seriously. Your pussy leaks as you forget to protest and your body willingly accepts the uncomfortable hold he has on you. His fingers remain firmly entwined in your hair as he fucks himself into you. You wonder if he can even register that you’re his girlfriend and not just a warm, wet fucktoy for him to do whatever he pleases.

You know he’s being too rough with you. He knows he’s being too rough with you. But right now he doesn’t care. You wonder if he’s always wanted to fuck you like this and it’s just that the love potion has made him lose all sense of how he should behave.

The thought makes your pussy clench - that he’s always been so loving and gentle with you because he knows he ought to be. That he makes himself hold back because knows he’s so much bigger and stronger than you.

And now…

You let out an involuntary whine and quickly feel yourself blush right down to your chest when he laughs in response. A triumphant laugh, with his teeth bared against your cheek as he continues to thrust down into your pussy, his hips slapping your backside so hard it stings.

Fuck, you’re going to cum again. Going to cum from being used as nothing but a hole for Cormac to empty himself into. His free hand slides under your chest and squeezes your breast roughly. It’s definitely going to leave a mark. 

Your thighs twitch as your G-spot is fucking pounded into submission. You can’t tense and squeeze the way you normally do so you just have to accept your fate and pray that his cock keeps hammering into that same exact spot that you’re so desperate for. You wonder if he’d listen if you told him to keep going.

“Please, Cormac - there. Keep - fuck - right there.”

“Yeah? Fuck. You’re such a slut. Such a pretty, fucking, slut,” he slurs his words right against your ear.

Oh shit.

He’s never called you that before. Probably because he knows under normal circumstances you’d curse him. But you’re in no position to do so right now. And what’s worse - for some reason, it turns you on in a way that you never imagined it would.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“That’s right,” he says, gritting his teeth. “You gonna cum for me like this?”

You try to reply in the affirmative but instead, a broken yelp is ripped from your throat. The bedsheets bundle up tight under your fists as another wave of ecstasy takes hold of you, dragging you by your hair under the surface. 

And then you feel the drop approaching without any indication of slowing down. 

An empty dark space filled only by Cormac fucking you so hard that his hips drive you right down into the mattress. So deep and so tight that the air is forced from your lungs under the sheer weight of him. Every part of your walls constricts around his cock, gratefully squeezing him, thanking him for making you cum like this.

He lets go of your hair and anchors himself to your body by holding onto your tits. He gasps and groans wildly, and with a few more deep, grinding thrusts he pushes as deep as he can, cumming deep into your cunt. You twitch involuntarily around his cock, the aftershock milking every last drop he empties into you.

Cormac’s dead weight collapses on top of you and he pants breathlessly for a few moments. Even though you’re crushed, you’re comforted by his warm body. But it doesn’t last long. He pulls out of you and lies on his side, quickly brushing loose strands of hair out of your face.

“Baby… baby, are you okay?”

You remain lying on your front and turn your head to look at him. His eyes are full of deep concern.

“Yeah, I’m - I’m more than okay… are you?”

“I dunno, I - I tried to hold back but… fuck -” He brings his hand to his head. “I - called you a slut,” he whispers.

You laugh and pull yourself close to him, lying on your side and feeling his cum leaking out of you onto your thigh.

“Are you sure you’re alright? The love potion’s not -”

“Yes,” you stress. 

He looks at your breasts, covered in blotches. “Oh, god.” Cormac moves downward and places soft kisses on your chest, so gentle it makes you giggle.

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you - it’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“Just - fuck - I never let myself lose control like that.”

Your suspicions are confirmed.

“You know… you’re allowed to lose control when you’re with me. I’m not that fragile.”

“But -”

“No, listen, I know you’re a gentleman and I love that you make me feel loved, even adored when we have sex. I do. But if I’d known you had wanted to just pin me down and fuck me hard before, I would have let you. Wanted you to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You shuffle down to meet him and smirk. “I’m not saying all the time. You know how much I like being adored.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, before pulling you close.

“I don’t want to break you.”

“Psht, I can handle it.” you smile. 

You lie quietly, breathing in the warm amber and jasmine scent lingering on his chest. It smells like home to you.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you that time in the Prefect’s Bathroom. I mean, after that, I almost feel bad for not fucking you back then,” he murmurs into your hair and inhales deeply. You wonder if you smell like home to him too.

You laugh. “It was rough. But you made the right decision.”

“I mean, fuck, I had you. And I still felt like… I dunno. Like I was going crazy. You were right in Slughorn’s class.”

“In Potions class? What?” Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, trying to recall.

“Way back in our first lesson together, when you said they should be banned -” He frowns. “- I feel sick thinking what would have happened if it was me instead of you who drank it at the seventh-year party. I was able to hold you but if it was the other way around you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

You shrug. “I’d have done alright if I had my wand.” 

“Unlikely. I’ve seen you duelling, remember?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have duelled you - I’d just have done a binding spell.” You mimic waving your wand. “‘Incarcerous’ - then you’d be tied up so I could just wank you off. Sorted.”

You said it as a casual joke but Cormac’s breath catches in his throat as he holds you. 

“What?” You look up and see his face has turned pink.

“I think…” He clears his throat and laughs. “I think that’s just awoken something in me.”

You gasp in mock scandalisation. “Cormac McLaggen tied up and forced to cum by someone who ‘wouldn’t have stood a chance’ otherwise.”

“It was you who suggested it!” He protests as he laughs and rolls on top of you, lying between your open hips. He presses his forehead against yours and you look in his eyes. They’re normal again. Devastatingly green. 

“Imagine the Daily Prophet found out that’s what I’d been doing to you the whole time you were here, kidnapped.”

“Stop, I can only get so hard,” he smirks.

Cormac kisses you and runs his hand down the back of your thigh. You suck on his bottom lip before grinning up at him wickedly. “Who’s a slut now?”

Chapter 17: Purpose

[nobrain-the-silly]

The plot of Little Shop of Horrors explained by a new fan who hasn’t watched the movie yet

Hey everybody hey! It had been not that long since I joined the fandom, but I already have a bit of an understanding of the plot. Yeah, here is the Little Shop of Horrors plot explained by me! A person who hasn’t watched the movie!

[Plot under the cut btw!]

Now, I am only going over the 1986 movie’s plot.

Okay so our protag is Seymour. He is autistic because I SAID SO. He is loserboy and works at a flower shop, with his gf Audrey and his boss (and possibly father figure) Mr. Mushnik. Seymour has this stupid plant that he found after a TO-TAL E-CLIPSE OF THE SUN (which is a major plot point). The plant is Audrey II! I am using She/Her pronouns for this plant.

Seymour is like “Hey guys! If we want more visitors to our florist shop, we should put this plant on display.” THE STORE IMMEDIATELY GETS LOTS OF COSTUMERS. The store suddenly is now popular.

However, poor Seymour does not fucking know what Audrey II survives on. The answer is blood. Seymour fucking HURTS HIMSELF (f u, roses!) and that’s how he figures out what the FUCK the plant eats.

Some time later, we get introduced to Orin Scrivello, Audrey’s abusive dentist boyfriend. He is not important yet.

So now Audrey II is big! And then Seymour realizes “Holy shit Mushnik is my father figure👍” via musical number. And then Seymour sings about how his life is changing so fast, and how the flower shop is becoming more better and shit.

So then Audrey II says “Feed me!” and Seymour is just like “HOLY FUCK! Twoey you talked!” So now Audrey II is explaining that she is hungry, and Seymour is just like “But you’re an INANIMATE object!” Audrey II is just like “I can talk, and I can move, so I think I can get you a Cadillac.” (That quote was from @lithuanianking’s review of this movie btw!)

So now that Seymour has his first target (which is Orin), we can finally see GAY SEX! Yea. Gay sex happens. Bill Murray appears for five minutes, to have gay sex with the dentist, and then is never seen again.

At some point, Orin accidentally overdoses of that gas and fucking DIES! Is it Seymour’s fault? Idk. But hey at least somebody can be chopped up and fed to a hungry plant!

After Orin is cutely fed to Audrey II, that is where Act 1 of the theatre production ends. And then Act 2 begins. DON’T ASK WHY I AM USING THEATRE TERMS HERE.

So Mushnik thinks Seymour is being suspicious. Mushnik proceeds to be eaten by plant. Some time later, the human Audrey (which she has hardly been mentioned in this entire post) is tricked into being eaten by Audrey II.

Now, this is where the story splits in two. This movie has not one, but TWO endings. I’ll go over the good ending first.

Seymour saves Audrey before she is eaten, and he kills Audrey II by electrocuting her. (“Oh shit!” are Audrey II’s last words. I know because I looked at all the TV Tropes pages for this movie.) And then everybody lives happily ever after.

Okay, time for the bad ending! Both Audrey and Seymour get fucking eated. Oh and capitalism reigns supreme, because Audrey II is being sold everywhere. Death to America happens.

That’s the end of my miserable plot recap of a movie about a bloodthirsty plant! Thank you for reading.

[springtrappd]

i still think about "afton has dissociative identity disorder" guy sometimes not because he was outright wrong but because of how utterly insane the way he was wrong was. because the thing is that he wasn't wrong! afton does display various symptoms that indicate something is up with his sense of self*; he experiences extreme mood swings and shifts in personality, he references his various personas in the third person, doing elaborate dance routines to declare that that version of himself is dead, that he has numerous masks that he switches out at all, and just. Everything about him-as-spring-bonnie in tse**. i'd have to reread the trilogy to get you complete sources, but absolutely none of the things he says (or thinks of himself) are normal***, and they draw attention to this in the text every single time it happens. and naturally this is all up to interpretation, but it's a completely reasonable one to make given the circumstances****

like he was so so close to getting it but the ableism- and conspiracy-worms ate his brain and he jumped to "william afton has a split personality and is scott's secret self-insert meaning that the entire character is scott explaining that he, Real Guy Scott Cawthon, has dissociative identity disorder" rather than. just. "you can easily interpret afton as displaying symptoms of mental illness". which he does and you can.

CLICK HERE FOR FOOTNOTES:

[*] - psychiatric labels are names given to collections of symptoms to better categorise them for treatment/study; human beings are multifaceted beings by nature and thus often exist outside their narrow confines. it is pointless to argue the distinction between personality, mood and dissociative disorders in this context, as these titles are -- again -- tools to aid understanding. they exist to fit us; we do not exist to fit them. fictional characters, as entities that do not exist, cannot be definitively diagnosed or expected to behave in ways that satisfy the more psychiatrically-minded; however, viewing them through such a lens allows for a new perspective on their actions, and that is something vital to media analysis. the use of labels here are tools to assist in your understanding of what i'm discussing, not definitive statements of what something is (or isn't). He like definitely has a personality disorder though have you seen this guy, jesus christ

[**] - whether he's actually himself here (just concussed) or outright possessed is up to you. this is just a possible take on it, not necessarily the definitive one. i'm demonstrating an argument.

[***] - i do not know your own experiences and you should not judge yourself based on a random tumblr post about five nights at freddy's. it's okay if this aspect of afton's character resonates with you, or if you don't understand why a statement like this would be noteworthy from a psychological perspective. he is a fictional character who has been written the way he was with particular intent; you are a real person with lived experiences that cannot be confined to the page. there isn't (necessarily) anything wrong with you (and it doesn't matter if there is, btw) (see note 1), but this is used as a way to show that there is something wrong with him.

[****] - i have a dissociative disorder. you do not need to know anything more about it than that, and i will not be telling you.