but this whole thing

Quit playing games

For @jadepresley 💖
This has been stuck in my head for daaaays! 


“Are you going to eat that?”

Draco frowned but shook his head and pushed his plate across the table. Potter attacked it as if he hadn’t just stuffed his face with three servings of scrambled eggs and croissants.

“Thanks,” he said, beaming at Draco. Clearing his throat, Draco had to look away, otherwise Potter might have noticed how pink his cheeks had suddenly gotten. He really didn’t understand Potter. He didn’t understand this whole strange situation they were in. Who would have thought he and Potter would become the kind of friends who would meet on Sundays for brunch? As much as Draco had always fantasised about becoming friends with him, this was an unexpected outcome. But not as unexpected as what had happened a few days ago…

“Potter, I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

“Dracoooooo! Don’t be such a drag!”

Draco blinked, the sound of his own name still ringing in his ears. Was this the first time Potter had said his given name to his face? Draco hated how much he enjoyed it. Watching Potter sway as he tried to make his way to the bar, Draco grabbed his arm.

“No more drinks for you,” he said resolutely.

“Dracoooo.” Potter knitted his brows together and started pouting. He actually pouted. Draco felt like he was going to faint.

“No, you’ve had enough.” His eyes darted down to Potter’s mouth. His lower lip was trembling and Draco wished he could stop the trembling by softly biting into it. “This won’t work on me,” he said, mentally cursing his voice for sounding so unsteady.

“Are you sure?” Potter said, his mouth stretching into a smile. “Then maybe this will!” With childish enthusiasm, Potter threw his arms around Draco’s neck. Their bodies were suddenly flush against each other.

“What are you-?” Before Draco could finish his question, Potter’s lips were on his, moving slowly and softly. Draco was too stunned to push him away. And honestly, he didn’t want to. Potter was kissing him! And the way he was kissing him… He didn’t seem as drunk as Draco had thought. Or maybe, he was just an exceptionally good kisser.

Against his better judgement, Draco closed his eyes and tentatively placed his hands on Potter’s hips. Potter let out a deep sigh that send a delicious shiver down Draco’s spine. But wait… this wasn’t right. Potter wasn’t in his right mind.

Reluctantly, Draco detached his lips from Potter’s and stared at him. He was not prepared for the sight that met him. Potter was gazing at him dreamily, a wide smile plastered on his face.

“See? I know it would work on you,” he mumbled, before his head collapsed on Draco’s shoulder. The added weight, from Potter going completely limp in his arms, made Draco stumble.

“What in Merlin’s name was that?”

Draco had asked himself that question a lot over the last couple of days. He still had no idea. Potter had acted like nothing had happened when they had seen each other again. Maybe he didn’t remember. But something was definitely off; Potter kept finding excuses to touch Draco in seemingly innocent ways and whenever he thought Draco wasn’t paying attention, he kept giving him these looks.

At first, Draco had thought he was just imagining things, but it kept happening and it left Draco confused and frustrated. What was Potter doing?

“Hey, I thought we could go to the movies tonight,” Potter said, completely nonchalant.

“The movies,” Draco repeated flatly.

“Yeah, you know, the Muggle-”

“I know what it is,” Draco snapped. He took a sip of his coffee and slammed the cup back down on the saucer.

“Is that a no?” Potter asked. Draco looked away, not sure what to say. As much as he enjoyed spending time with him, the way Potter was behaving made everything so hard. Draco wasn’t sure he could do it for much longer without exploding. Maybe it would be better to pause this friendship thing for a little bit. When his eyes found Potter’s again, his mouth opened involuntarily. Potter’s eyes were piercing and there was an odd expression on his face.

“Hold on, you’ve got some crumbs-” He leaned over the table, his hand outstretched. Draco blinked as Potter’s fingers brushed the corner of his mouth. They definitely lingered there longer than necessary. This was it! Draco had enough of this teasing.

Slamming his hands down on the table, he pushed himself out of his seat and stormed out of the café. What did Potter think they were doing? He acted like they were just friends, just friends, and then he did something like that. Seriously, it was all Potter’s fault. If the git hadn’t kissed him-

“Draco!”

Draco stopped in his tracks, a warm feeling spreading inside his chest. Stupid, stupid! He shouldn’t be feeling that way.

“Draco, wait!” Potter caught up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around. “What’s going on? Why did you just leave like that?”

Draco scowled at his feet, not wanting to look Potter in the eyes.

“Is it something I did?” Potter asked, sounding genuinely unsure. Draco snorted. “What is it? Talk to me?” Potter lowered his head to catch Draco’s eyes and Draco suddenly felt fingers brushing the hair out of his face.

“This! This!!” Slapping his hand away, Draco finally looked up. “You’ve got to stop doing that!”

Potter looked shocked. He clearly hadn’t expected such an outburst.

“You can’t just do that all the time. Touch me like that.”

Draco watched as Potter’s face fell. He bit his lip and started wringing his hands.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it made you that uncomfortable.”

Wait, why did Potter look so crestfallen? That didn’t make any sense.

“It does,” Draco said through gritted teeth. “It would be much easier if you could be… a little more decisive.” Draco really didn’t want to have this conversation. He was pretty sure he’d just end up humiliating himself. And maybe, it would even mean the end of his friendship with Potter.

“What do you mean, more decisive?”

Draco sighed. Maybe his friendship with Potter was already over. Draco couldn’t stand to be around him like this.

“Maybe you behave like that around your friends. I don’t. There’s a line between- It’s not something you just- There’s a difference between-” Draco didn’t know how to explain it to Potter without sounding like a lovesick fool.

“Do you mean- I-… Are you talking about the kiss?” Potter sounded extremely nervous. Draco gaped at him.

“You remember? I thought you didn’t remember.”

“No, I remember,” Potter said quietly.

Draco’s mind reeled.

“Then why- What are you doing? I can’t even tell if that was accidental or not? If you regret it or not? What is this- What are we-”

“I don’t know, okay?” Potter interrupted him. “I don’t know.”

Draco studied him, taking in the insecure expression on his face.

“Even if you don’t know, you can’t just do that to me,” he murmured. “I have no idea what to think anymore.”

Potter bit the inside of his cheeks, before taking a step towards Draco.

“But you like me, right?”

Annoyed, Draco clicked his tongue.

“I’m pretty sure the answer to that is painfully obvious.”

Potter took another step, so that their chests were touching. Reaching for Draco’s hands, he interlaced their fingers and peered up at him from under his lashes.

“Would you…” His voice quivered slightly. “Would you want to kiss me again?”

Draco opened his mouth but no sound came out. Had Potter really just asked him-

“Potter, what are you doing?” he said, almost choking on the words. His eyes darted down when Potter licked his lips in one swift motion. “This is what I’m talking about. You can’t just keep playing these games with me.”

“It’s not a game,” Potter said, his expression turning serious. “I have no idea what I’m doing, okay? I have no idea how to handle… this.” He gave Draco’s hands a squeeze and guided them to the small of his back. “I’ve never fallen for a bloke before. Not like this. And you’re not just any bloke. It’s a little overwhelming, alright?”

Draco was glad Potter had stopped talking. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to hear anything else over the ringing in his ears.

“Did you just say- You… What?”

Potter laughed, loud and wide. It made Draco weak in the knees.

“Can we please not dwell on this? This is embarrassing enough,” Potter said, pressing his body against Draco’s. “So, you still haven’t answered my question. Would you kiss me again?”

Instead of answering, Draco made a deep gurgling sound at the back of his throat. Before Potter had the chance to comment on it, Draco grabbed his face with both hands and started kissing him like he had wanted to for as long as he could remember.

“I swear to Merlin, if you take back what you just told me and we go back to being friends, I’m going to hex your testicles off,” he growled against Potter’s lips.

“Oh, I think we can make use of them in a much better way,” Potter chuckled, burying his hands in Draco’s hair. Draco groaned. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. After all this time. Finally!

Happy birthday Sam <3


“How do you even get into that?” Sam complains loudly, gesturing at T’Challa’s Black Panther suit.

It comes out a tad too dramatic, maybe, but it’s already bad enough that Pepper paired him up with Mr. Tall, Dark and Deadly for the photo OPs, Sam shouldn’t also have to suffer through 2 hours of that ridiculous and stupidly tight cat costume.

Not that normal, non-superhero clothes would’ve been much better – T’Challa could probably make a pair of old sweatpants and a floral print shirt look regal as fuck. His clothes seem to always hug his muscles in all the right places, no matter what he’s wearing, so a suit or a jeans & black Henley combo weren’t going to make Sam’s evening any easier.

The problem, really, is that Sam wishes he could be the one hugging T’Challa’s muscles.

The problem is the goddamn suit looks like it’s been painted on, and Sam’s already starting to feel all hot and bothered in his own uniform, and they haven’t even stepped out of the waiting room yet.

T’Challa shoots him a smirk, and that, too, is deadly.

“You ask me nicely,” the man replies.

Well, fuck.

It’s a joke.

It’s very clearly a joke, and Sam’s too fond of teasing people himself not to appreciate it, but fuck if it isn’t putting images in his head, and god, that’s the last thing Sam needs right now.

He tries to cover the fact that he almost just choked to death on his own spit with a derisive snort, but he’s pretty sure it comes out too high-pitched to be convincing, and his sweaty palms aren’t helping.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” T’Challa asks when Sam fails to come up with a witty response. And god, Sam wishes. It’s getting really fucking hot in here.

T’Challa’s obviously enjoying poking fun at him immensely, if the way the corners of his eyes are crinkling is anything to go by. If he wasn’t so drop-dead gorgeous, Sam would punch him.

“Are you always such a smartass or is it just ‘cause it’s my birthday?” he grunts.

T’Challa blinks, and then raises an interested eyebrow. “It’s your birthday?” he asks. Sam just shrugs. “And you’re here doing this?”

“Pepper offered to change the date, but whatever man, it’s just a few hours,” Sam says. “It’s cool.”

T’Challa doesn’t reply right away, just stares at him like the cat that ate the goddamn canary, killer smile still on his lips and doing all kinds of things to Sam’s stomach. “I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he tells him a moment later. “I would’ve gotten you something.”

“You don’t have to—”

“In Wakanda,” T’Challa cuts him off, taking a few steps in his direction, “we have this way of wishing people a happy birthday.”

“What way?” Sam asks. But before he can stop to think about how close T’Challa is all of a sudden, or about how it’s getting a bit harder to breathe, there’s an arm wrapping around his waist and a big, strong hand at his throat, tipping his chip up.

T’Challa kisses him unhurriedly, but firm and hot and claiming, swallowing Sam’s gasp right up and then licking into his mouth just right while his hands keep him securely in place. Which is good, because god, without them Sam would probably just slide down to the floor.

When T’Challa pulls back Sam can’t help but try to chase his lips, and even whimpers a little at the loss of him. Later, he might worry about how pathetically desperate he probably seems, but right now he can only think of how pleasantly dizzy he feels, and maybe lament the fact that he didn’t use this chance to let his hands roam over T’Challa’s magnificent chest.

“Wow, I… Dude, I think I want to move to Wakanda,” Sam manages to let out.

T’Challa laughs softly. “Happy birthday, Samuel,” he says, thumb still stroking Sam’s jaw.

“So, um…” Sam tells him, because hey, it is his birthday after all. He might as well. “If I were to ask you nicely… would you be okay with that?”

“Well,” T’Challa says, smiling. “This was just a happy birthday wish. Wait until you get your present.”

“Can’t wait to unwrap it,” Sam jokes, and then forgets how to breathe, because T’Challa is kissing him again.

You know, there are these solar driven wobbling flowers.

As soon as the sun gets on them, they start dancing.

As soon as I saw them, I wanted to extend them into Floweys.

(So here have a small gif! I decided to make it smol so it’ll be able to view even with low internet?)

anonymous asked:

I'm not American, I don't get why the White House thing is a big deal? Can someone explain?

I’m not american either.

you don’t have to be american to know that trump is a heinous person who does not respect either his own office or the rights of the people he purports to represent.

the pens visiting the white house while he’s in office reads as tacitly supporting his presidency and his ideals (whether that is the case or not), whatever they claim about ‘respecting the institution’, the visit actually disrespects many of their fans, not to mention some of their players, by association.

it is also particularly unfortunate timing from the pens, given trump’s recent rants about players who opt to take a knee during the anthem, and his ‘univiting’ of the golden state warriors after stephen curry expressed doubts about going to the white house, amongst other things.

anonymous asked:

hc of an au bc of who i am as a person: if alma had survived the lab w/o killing anyone except first two crows and grown up as an exorcist he would haaaaate flowers. he'd never say it out loud, bc kanda loves flowers in a quiet never-tell-anyone-shit-about-shit-but-meditate-in-the-garden-for-hours way, and alma loves kanda with literally his entire life, but alma can't stand the things. (kanda brings small ferns and candy when alma's sad. kanda will not admit to doing this under pain or death)

Ohhhh, anon.  I like this.  I like this a lot.  (And I hope you don’t mind me commenting on this further, because I’m really fascinated with this idea now.)

It’s really easy for people to headcanon Alma as liking flowers (at least from what I’ve seen, as well as based off my own interpretation of Alma).  After all, Alma’s past incarnation liked lotuses for their symbolism, so it makes sense that Alma would as well, right?  But the fact that Alma could actually harbor a hatred for flowers is a unique interpretation that actually fits really well.

If Alma were to grow up to be an exorcist in an AU, it’s difficult to imagine him not harboring any hatred toward the Order and all they’ve done.  Even with that childlike wonder and curiosity he exhibits early on, he would eventually learn that despite being a second exorcist (or apostle of God) that he would inevitably die with no chance of truly being free in the world.  He’d always be fated to return to that dark place he came from, or the mud so to speak, like a lotus.

So, maybe Alma does hate flowers.  He might not be sure why - it could be a residue of his past incarnation’s memories.  There’s that torturous hope with thinking of lotuses as reaching toward the light, yet in the end they die and sink back into the mud.  It’s pretty upsetting when you think about it like that.  And then you wonder - does Alma see the lotuses as well?  Kanda does, but maybe Alma does too.  And he hates them.  It’s probably really painful for him to see them if he does, but he doesn’t know why.

The opposite end of Kanda liking flowers works well with this - it balances out Alma’s hatred, and also could be a subconscious yearning to be with “that person” who seemed to love lotuses so much.  And as you pointed out, Alma clearly cares about Kanda to where he probably wouldn’t say anything outloud about it - Alma would do damn near anything for Kanda, so he just tries to ignore the flowers for Kanda’s sake.  They give Kanda a sense of peace, so Alma tolerates it.

Sweets would definitely be what Alma likes - I always headcanon him as being partial to those.  The ferns are nicer than flowers to him probably, too, and Alma is okay with those since maybe it’s a reminder that Kanda knows that Alma is fond of flowers.  (I bet Alma teases Kanda about being sweet when Kanda brings him things behind closed doors - the cuties.)

Thanks for sending this headcanon in!  (Also, could I possibly use this headcanon in a future ficlet?  Let me know!)