jesus my hair is getting long


Color me SHOOK right now. Look at this ethereal beauty ???oh my GOD. 

OMG!! Long hair don’t care, boy I wanna run my fingers through and pull it and I—*ahem* anywayyyy…



Wow this photo quality….DID JUMIN TAKE THESE?????? JESUS. ANYWAY. 

So, man…wow. From these photos like, is this some time after Rika and you are thrown into the mix. Not only Saeran but Jihyun’s hair is sooo long. They look more mature, Saeran looks as if he may be a bit in his recovery. Longer hair is definitely a way in art to show time has passed. 



I am so ready. 

I. AM. SO. DAMN. READYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Deadpool x Reader

Warnings: It’s fucking Deadpool. 

Summary: Your girl Nega hooks you up with Wade Wilson. 

Originally posted by my-daily-space

The bar was dingy as fuck.

Fuck it was downright biowaste, but it was the place your date picked. And now you were questioning the whole damn thing.

Cursing Nega under your breath for setting you up with her ‘friend’, you hustled into the bar and looked down at your phone. Quickly you texted the number of Wade Wilson, the man you had been talking to on and off for the last week and a half.

“I’m here.”

A second later, your cell buzzed. “Holy shit you’re way hotter in person. Fuck me.”

Another buzz. “Full disclosure, I have a boner.”

Another buzz. “Also my penis is big.”

Keep reading



Kind of just a random mishmash of cc that I thought was cool. You get:

- Anto’s Brave clayified. Need (MESH)

- 8 group poses, MUST have these 3 props: (tipped/upright shopping cart, accessory iphone)

Have fun! Like, reblog, bla bla bla


MTV CRIBS… Starring Sirius Black: 

Sirius: *ponders* … Or now… 

Remus: *shouts from the other room* You can’t take a laptop into the shower Sirius! 

James: Yeah… Cribs is the wrong show for that!  

Remus: *sighs* For fuck’s sake James. 

Sirius: SPOIL SPORTS!!! 

Remus: *grumbles* What possessed you to buy him a webcam? 

James: *grins* Are you kidding? This is prime entertainment. 

Remus: *long suffering sigh* 

Sirius: *hops out of the shower and continues his “tour”* 

Sirius: *winks at himself in the mirror* 

Sirius: Whoops.

Remus: … WHAT DID YOU DO!?

Sirius: *grins and opens the door to the dorm room* 

Remus: *jumps, gaping* Jesus Christ Sirius! Get your naked-arse off my bed!

James: *grins* Yeah! It’s not that kind of show Pads!


Sirius: *smirks* 

UP NEXT: GAME OF THRONES… Starring Sirius Black. 

my favourite musical moments

“we had a spy on the inside that’s right hERCULES MULLIGAN”

“is it really true? I’m your favowite person?” “yeah, we’re never not gonna be a team”

“she was a light-skinned Puerto Rican Dominican, long hair, mature in the body like whoa (like wHOA)”

“for real though, imagine how it would feel going real slow down the highway of life with no regrets”

“we’re close, but not that way! the only man that I love is my dad”


“you would not believe how easy it is to get pills and weed”

“what do you want, burr? what do you want, burr? if you stand for nothing, burr, what do you fall for?”

“cause she was CHEATING ON MEEEEEE” “hey hamlet. be. more. chill.”

Flowers - Alfie Solomons

Can I ask for an Alfie imagine? His wife is his total oposite, sweet, calm and hes totally whipped. Im just a sucker for romantic Alfie😍 


“Mornin’ Ollie!” I call as I walk into the ‘bakery’.

“Mornin’ Mrs Solomons,” he mumbles before turning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s always the same when I walk in, a mumbled greeting and then complete avoidance of eye contact. I don’t take it personally because I know Alfie’s threatened each and every one of these men, individually, about making eyes at me, but I still always make the effort to know them all and engage in friendly conversation.

“How are you feeling now Ollie?”

“Umm, not too bad I suppose,” he replies, keeping his eyes on the book in front of him.

“Honestly? Because if you need some time to rest up you can-”

“No! Alfie would kill me, he needs me here.”

I’ve learnt over the years not to argue with Ollie when it comes to Alfie; his loyalty will always prevail over common sense.

“Well, I know a doctor who’ll see you out of hours. Want me to give him a call?”

His lack of objection says enough.

I place a gentle hand on his arm. “Take it easy though, yeah? You don’t need to go at 100% all the time.”

He nods and mumbles his thanks before rushing off clutching his books and papers to his chest.

I carry on towards Alfie’s office, greeting the men I pass on the way.

Keep reading

Four Times | Baron Corbin

Title: Four Times (I should’ve told him I loved him)

Pairing: Baron Corbin/ Reader

Summary: I want all that is not mine. I want him but we’re not right.

Word Count: 4,670

Warning: I don’t really think this needs a warning! (feel free to correct me if I’m wrong).

Tags@calwitch | @rebelfleur22 | @xfirespritex | @blondekel77 | @abschaffer2 | @alexahood21 | @taryndibiase | @isawthesights | @swedish-strong-style | @wrasslin-rollins | @megnog | @kitkat8 | @ellothelongwaydown | @wwesensualfanficsPlease let me know if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Originally posted by baellinswithstyles

Keep reading

Hi my name is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, first of her name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and of the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons and I have long silver blonde hair and purple eyes and a lot of people tell me I look like Rhaegar Targaryen (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I have pale white skin. I also have three dragons (I’m sixteen). A lot of masters stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Long Distance (Chapter Six)

Oh my god you guys, the fluff in this chapter is ridiculous. I mean honestly, we’ve basically lost any semblance of a plot and the three of them spend all their time texting and video-ing and it’s so fluffy oh my god.

Can’t wait to hear what you guys think lol

All the AMAZING ART for this chapter provided by my darling @latelierderiot​. I love her and you guys should too. Click on the links in the fic to see the pics, otherwise visit her page!!!!


Enjoy :)

{Group Chat}

From Bucky– Tony honey sorry I missed our video call this morning, had to be up early to help get the team on the road

From Tony– they don’t take you with them on the road? But who keeps the boys from eating cheeseburgers and getting fat instead of working out

From Steve– sweetheart, bucky is usually the one bringing the cheeseburgers. That’s why they don’t take him on trips anymore

From Bucky– I resent that. Anyway, babe just wanted to check in, I know you have a busy day today.

From Tony– not too busy to text you guys, no worries

From Bucky– that’s great. I was going to text you all day whether you were busy or not

From Tony– stuck in the office all day. Tried that new mocha mint drink from the coffee shop down the street and spilt it down the front of myself. Don’t have any extra clothes, so I get to sit in my office all day until everyone leaves.

From Steve– honey that’s awful! Can’t Pepper bring you a shirt?

From Bucky– I can’t stop laughing

From Tony– bucky you’re an ass

From Steve– bucky you’re an ass

From Steve– spending the day grading, no classes so I’ve got to get caught up

From Tony– that sucks, artist man. You definitely need to find something better to do with your time.

From Steve– why don’t you send me a picture Tony, maybe that will give me something better to do

From Tony– oh my professor. Should I wear my glasses and tie?

From Steve– oh honey, yes please

From Bucky– hey guys maybe take it off group chat if you’re going to start talking gross

From Tony– you don’t want a picture of me in a school uniform Bucky? My feelings are hurt.

From Bucky– does the school uniform include a plaid miniskirt? Cuz I’m on board for that

From Steve– Bucky! Omg Tony ignore him.

From Tony– I am completely scandalized right now. Scandalized and horrified. Who are these boys I’m texting? Deviants.

From Steve–…. On second thought, I don’t hate the skirt idea

From Bucky– hell yeah!

From Tony– wtf you two

Keep reading

You Don’t Sound Like You

Summary: Namjoon and Y/N broke up because of his schedules, and his lack of time. A year and a half later, he finds out she has a new boyfriend, and that she has changed completely. Will Namjoon work his way into Y/N’s heart again or will he leave Y/N be?

Word Count: 3015

Song: That Don’t Sound Like You - Lee Brice

Originally posted by jjeonguk

Girl, I’m glad you called, first heard you talk

It took me a second cause I couldn’t hear your drawl

And that don’t sound like you

No, that don’t sound like you

“Hey Joon, uh, I know you’re busy right now, and you’re probably still at the award show, but I just wanted to call and congratulate you. I’m happy for you and the boys. You did it Joon, you did it.” And with the sound of ruffling and fuzziness, the call ended. Namjoon looked down at his phone, and instantly pressed play again on the voicemail that you had left him.

He listened to it - 2, 3, 4 times. He couldn’t help but think to himself that you sounded different. Almost as if you were tired, there was no excitement in your voice. You sounded too proper, you were trying too hard. He had to keep checking the name, just to make sure it actually was you.

He was used to the screams of sheer excitement you shared with him after he performed, or when they released a new song. He was used to your voice being so loud, that he had to tell you several times to lower it, and even though it never worked, he still loved it.

And now, when he finally hears your voice, when he finally took the time to listen to it - it wasn’t the same.

I know it’s been a while, I don’t mean to pry

But when I asked you if you’re happy I didn’t hear a smile

“Hello?” Namjoon’s eyes went wide, and he set down his wallet that was in his other hand. He was just expecting the call to go to voicemail, but he was in shock when you actually picked up.

“Y/N.” He pressed the phone closer to his ear, to make sure he can hear you and focus on you and nothing around him.

“Hey Joon.” There it is again, your voice. It has no life in it, and it’s bothering him way more than it should be.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, as he leaned forward at the edge of the bed, with his elbows on his thighs.

“Yeah,” you took in a breath and let it out, trying your best to sound happy, because you were right? “Everything’s alright.”

“Thanks for the call, it means a lot.” You nodded your head like he could see you, and you forgot that you had to use your voice.

“Yeah no problem, I’m proud of you.” It’s like you didn’t even care is what bothered him. You seemed so lifeless, and it was finally enough for Namjoon to speak up.

“Y/N?” He covered his mouth with his fist and coughed into it. You hummed in response. “Are you happy? You know, with him?” He felt vulnerable, he felt like it wasn’t his place to ask this question, yet it was. He was concerned, you were different, you weren’t you.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”


And that don’t sound like you

Nah, that ain’t the girl I knew you always sounded like

After he pressed the red button to end the call, he laid back into his bed and slid his hands down his face letting out a huge sigh. He was always worried about you, but not to this extent. Hearing you talk to him, and him finally paying enough attention, it’s eating him alive.

He just wants the old you back.

Truck tires on a gravel road

Laughing at the world, blasting my radio

Cannon ball splashing in the water

Doing whatever whenever you wanted


The sound of laughter was heard throughout his car. Loud enough that the music that was turned up as far as it could go, wasn’t loud enough for you. You were in the passenger seat, as you stuck your hand out the window and felt so carefree, laughing at everything around you, making up jokes along the way.

And with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other one interlaced with yours, Namjoon looked over at you and smiled like he never before. He had everything that he could dream of: BTS, making music for a living, family, friends, and most importantly - you.

“What are you looking at?” You giggled as the car came to a stop, where you reached your destination of a private pool.

“You.” He leaned over and kissed you on the lips, and when he pulled away your smile was engraved in his mind.

He sat in the pool and waited for you to come out of the bathroom after changing. As everyone was enjoying their drinks, and talking amongst their group of friends, there was no other person that would cannonball into the pool other than you. Water went everywhere and people covered their drinks as they glared at you. When you came back from underwater, you slicked your hair back and giggled and bowed at everyone.

“God only you would do something like that.” Namjoon wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. You splashed his face and tried to get out of his grip but he held on tighter and splashed you as well.

Your laugh was his favorite sound on the earth.

*End of flashback*

What did he do?

‘Cause you don’t sound like you anymore

And that laugh is still his favorite sound to this day. It’s hard to remember when the last time he heard it. But after hearing you on the phone, he’s almost positive that you don’t laugh like that anymore. He’s almost positive that you aren’t as happy.

He’s almost positive, that you need him.

Your pretty brown hair, you always loved it


“Jesus Y/N you need to cut your hair. I get tangled in it every time I lay down!” Namjoon moved a little from his spot on the bed as you gathered your hair into your hands and did a small hug. He rolled his eyes at your actions laid back onto the bed.

“Never Joon! My hair is too precious to cut!” He laughed and shook his head, as he moved closer to you.

“Whatever you say Y/N, you look stunning with long hair, and I bet you would look gorgeous with short hair.” He kissed your nose.

“I’m still not getting a hair cut.”

“I’m okay with that.” He ran his fingers through your hair, as your eyes fluttered shut from being so relaxed. “You’re beautiful Y/N.”

*End of flashback*

Guess he didn’t like it so you just cut it

And that don’t sound like you

Nah, that ain’t the girl I knew you always sounded like

Here you were, backstage with a headset on, a clipboard in your hand. You landed a job at MBC Music, and you were to keep the idols on time for their performance on stage.

You knew that one day you would see Namjoon. You knew that one day you would have to knock on BTS’ door, and tell them that it’s their time to perform. You knew all of this would happen, and today is the day.

You walk up to the door, and knocked loud enough for them all to hear. Someone responded with a ‘yeah’ and you opened the door with your clipboard close to your chest.

“BTS. You’re on in ten.” All of the heads flew up in the air. They all knew that voice, and who it belonged to. Hoseok took the one earbud out of his ear and looked at you. “Y/N? Is that really you?” You nodded your head and bowed at them.

You only saw 5 of them, Namjoon and Jin weren’t there which you were fine with. “Hey guys. Uhm, you need to head to the stage.” They all got out of their seats as you walked away from them and bumped into someone’s chest. “I’m sorry.” You bowed and took a step to the right, but his voice caught you off guard.

“Y/N?” You turned around and there he was. You were face to face with Namjoon.

“Hey.” You said it quietly, and gave him a little smile.

“I didn’t know it was you, your hair.” He pointed to your shortened hair now. It was in curls and it came past your shoulders, something you never thought you would do.

“Yeah, uh Y/BF/N actually thought I would look better with short hair.” And that sentence made something bubble up in Namjoon’s body. You changed the way you look just because he thought you would look better. You would never do something like that.

“Long or short hair Y/N, you look good either way.” You let out a nervous smile and bowed at him.

“Well, I have to go. You have ten minutes to be up on stage.” And with that, you turned around and walked away from Namjoon as he stood there in the middle of the hallway watching you leave.

What kind of hold does this dude have on you?

Truck tires on a gravel road

Laughing at the world, blasting my radio

Cannon ball splashing in the water

Doing whatever whenever you wanted

Namjoon watched as silver car came into the back lot to pick you up. You opened the door and slammed it shut, and the window rolled down. You had a blank stare on your face. What exactly was going on?

He watched as you were leaving, and you reached your hand to the radio to turn up the volume, that someone else’s hand slapped yours away indicating that the music shouldn’t be too loud. And when the car got closer to Namjoon, he saw you with your hands placed perfectly in your lap, and the guy in the driver seat telling you something. You look uninterested.

And as the car tires squealed away, he knew that you weren’t happy.

What did he do?

'Cause baby you don’t sound like you anymore

Oh, anymore

KM: I saw you leave today from MBC… is everything okay?

Y/N: Never better.

KM: Cut the shit Y/N. What’s going on?

Y/N: Nothing. Get off my case.

KM: You aren’t happy Y/N, I know it.

Y/N: I may not be happy, but at least he’s always around when I need him.

And just like that, Namjoon was out the door heading to the apartment that you still lived in when you two were together.

That town, that job, that guy

You can leave them behind, girl, you know you’re better than that

If you wanna come back, you can come back

Baby, come back to

“Namjoon what the fuck?” He walked right past you, fuming. You closed the door that he left open and you leaned against it. “Why are you here?”

“Because of that!” His voice was booming. You didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Because of what?”

“Because of the way you talk Y/N! You’re so fucking laid back now! There’s no life in your voice! What the hell happened!”

“Namjoon, nothing happened this is me.” He shook his head and licked his lips.

“This isn’t you Y/N. The Y/N I knew wouldn’t cut her hair because her boyfriend told her to. The Y/N I knew would turn the radio up so loud that it would make your eardrums bleed. The Y/N I knew would always have a smile on her face, and would always be laughing at something. This isn’t you Y/N.”

“Why do you even care Namjoon! We aren’t together anymore! You were never around to see the true me anyways!”

“Well dammit Y/N because I fucking love you! That’s why I care!” He walked closer to you and place his hands on your shoulders and ran them down your arms until your hands met. “Because I love you Y/N.” He whispered to you, almost inaudible. “And don’t bring up that I was never around, I know I wasn’t always there, but I made an effort to always be there. You were my world Y/N, fuck you still are.” You turned your head to the side and shook your hands out of his. Tears were forming in your eyes, this was something you weren’t expecting tonight.

“Namjoon,” You looked back at him. He never took his eyes off of you. “Don’t say that please, I have a boyfriend now.” You were begging him. You were telling yourself that you loved your new boyfriend, he was everything to you, but Namjoon was still above him.

“Leave him.” It came out of his mouth so naturally, so confidently.

“Namjoon…” You got interrupted.

“Y/N. Please.”

“I can’t.”

“Let me show you why you can.”

And he grabbed your arm and lead you downstairs to his parked car.

Truck tires on a gravel road

Laughing at the world, blasting my radio

Cannon ball splashing in the water

Doing whatever whenever you wanted

The windows were down in his car. The same car that the two of you rode in everyday. The radio volume wasn’t up too loud, until one of your favorite songs came on. You quietly hummed it to yourself, until the chorus approached and you started singing out loud, but whispering the lyrics. Namjoon noticed and turned the volume up, and with each verse and chorus he turned it up more and more until you were singing the lyrics out loud.

It was like the old days. He would catch glimpses of you with your hand out of the window and your lips moving to the song. One step in the right direction.

A car was driving by you, and with your hand out the window they thought you were waving so the kids in the backseat started waving back to you. You smiled at them and waved back. You giggled and turned you head back to face the front. Another step in the right direction.


“Namjoon what are we doing here?” The car was in park as you looked out the lake.

“Going for a walk.” He hopped out of the car and came around to your side and opened up your door. You got out as he shut the door and looked around at your surroundings.

You and Namjoon walked together, making small conversations here and there and then the rest of the time was walking in silence enjoying each other’s presence.

You came to a cliff a little above the lake and you stared off into the sky. It was beautiful.

“I’m gonna jump.”

“What?” And before you know it, Namjoon ran to the edge and dove to the bottom.

“NAMJOON!” You heard the sound of water, and gasping for air and then the sound of laughter rung your ears. “Namjoon get out of there!” The water had to be cold, it was night time, you couldn’t risk him getting sick.

“I’m not getting out until you get in!” He shouted back up to you.

“Are you crazy!”

“Yes!” You took a deep breath and kicked your sandals off and before you know it, you were running to the edge of the cliff and cannonballing into the lake. You felt the water hit you, and a splash hit Namjoon’s face. You came up from underwater with your fingers plugging your nose and your hair slicked back.

You started laughing. Something you haven’t done in what seems like forever. “That was insane!” Your voice got higher with excitement, it wasn’t monotone. You laid on your back and started to float as you looked up at the cliff and the stars.

“You wanna know what’s more insane?” Namjoon said and you hummed in response. He grabbed your cheeks and kissed your lips. It was soft and gentle at first but then desire took over, and the feeling of you two missing each other for so long took over as you were trying to make up for lost time.

“I think we should get to shore.” You told him and you started swimming back with him beside you. Once you got out of the water, he tackled you to the ground and started kissing your lips yet again. You missed the feeling. Everything about this felt right, you were supposed to be with Namjoon and not your boyfriend.

“I missed you Y/N. Please come back.” His forehead settled against yours as you were both on your sides facing each other.

“Okay.” You nodded your head and rubbed your thumb against his cheek.

You were coming back to him, something he’s been wanting since you broke up.

What did he do?

'Cause you don’t sound like you

Gimme the girl I knew

'Cause you don’t sound like you anymore

Mmm, anymore

Breaking up with your boyfriend was easy to do. He agreed you two weren’t working out and that was that. You had a hint of guilt knowing that you weren’t fully committed to him.

You thought of all the times that you felt weak with him. You cut your hair, you felt stressed around him, you weren’t in love. He wasn’t for you.

Namjoon was for you, and you were for him.

Girl, I’m glad you called, first heard you talk

Took me a second cause I couldn’t hear your drawl

Namjoon woke up early, and found your face next to his as you were still sound asleep. He pushed strands of hair out of your eyes, and saw that your hair was getting longer as days passed.

Making up for lost time wasn’t hard, you both knew that you missed each other, and when you were back in each other’s arms, you both felt at home.

Thinking about it all, Namjoon was glad you left that voicemail, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now.

You were back.

Flood my Mornings: Round and Round

anon said:

I would love to see Jamie at a like carnival or fair and Claire introducing him to all those weird foods in FMM! What would he think of cotton candy or a funnel cake?

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Unimaginable (Jamie and Claire pick a name for the wee bun in the oven)

May, 1951 


I thought the last word was likely, ‘God,’ but it was anybody’s guess, really, drowned out as it was by yet another bout of vomiting and the sudden blast of music from a nearby loudspeaker. 

“Oh, love…That bad, is it?” My tender, spousal concern was acknowledged only with a string of Gaelic curses, surprisingly creative ones for a man so laid low.

It was a gorgeous hot day (bright enough that I was grateful for my broad hat), but it did make the scent of vomit that much more inescapable. The county fair had come to town, and with both of us having the rare treat of being off on a Saturday, we’d decided to make a family outing of it.  Though it was hardly a grand exposition, both Jamie and I felt giddy as Bree strolling around amidst all the merriment, taking in the exhibits, music, livestock, food, and rides…including a deceptively innocent-looking Merry-go-Round. 

“It was so good of you to try it for Bree’s sake, love.” I rubbed Jamie’s back, trying my level best not to laugh at the way his hunched back seemed to have lost all its vertebrae. “Is there anything I can get you to make you feel a bit better?”

He raised his head a fraction from the garbage can, high enough only to glare at me. “How about a trip through the stones to ten minutes ago so I might choose to SPIT on the fool contraption instead of ride it?”

“Not sure that’s quite how it works, my love,” I whispered, laughing and kissing his shoulder. 

“Daddy? Da!? DA!?!” Bree chirped from below. “Can we go—go an’ do the round’n’round again??”

Jamie looked down at our two-(no, two-and-a-half-and-then-some!)-year-old. “Do ye want to send your poor Da to his death?”

“Doesna—doesna’nt go to DEFF, Daddy,” Bree laughed as if he were being hilariously obtuse, “Goes ‘round and ‘ROUND.”

So I noticed,” he groaned, hunching once more over the garbage can and spitting.

“Okay, lessgo DO it!!!” and she was tearing off back toward the Merry-Go-Round. 

“Ohhhh, no-you-don’t, little monster,” I said, swooping her up into my arms before she scuttled off. My sunglasses slipped to the tip of my nose, but I couldn’t immediately get them back up. Between the heat, the sudden movement, Bree now like a boulder on my hip, a heavy handbag banging against the other, and my back abso-bloody-lutely killing me from toting around a seven-months-grown-human in utero, I suddenly felt woozy and completely spent. “Here, lovey,” I panted, trying to keep from toppling over, “Can you help push Mum’s glasses up? Yes, just—There we go, thank you, sweetheart.” 

“Melcome!” she chirped and gave me a wet kiss on the mouth. 

I mmm’ed happily and kissed her cheeks as we swayed together next to Jamie. “Was the ride fun for you, at least, baby?”

"Uh-HUH, s’was BUNCH fun!”

“Hear that, darling? ‘Bunch’ fun.” 

From the plastic depths, I thought I heard him name a few other choice things it was ‘bunch’ of.

I did feel for Jamie. We should have known it would be no better than a boat for motion-sickness, and he’d spared ME from having to ride the thing, after all (though truth be told, I quite liked such exhilarations when not pregnant). But I was ALREADY shaking with silent mirth imagining the photos I’d snapped, all laid out in the cherished family album. The first few would show a sweet and lively scene: Jamie smiling cheerfully, standing with his hand on Bree’s back, she triumphantly mounted on her plastic chestnut steed waiting for the ride to start… and then would follow the play-by-play of the situation’s rapid deterioration, every revolution of the Merry-Go-Round showing a Jamie still more pale and hunched and desperate, until—Well, that LAST one was a blackmail goldmine for the ages.

“Daddy?” Bree asked suddenly, her face scrunched up as she peered at her father. “You mad’it Mama?”

That got Jamie’s attention and he straightened. “Mad at her?”

“All…” She waved her hand. “…mean.”

His eyes softened and they flicked up to me, verifying that I wasn’t in fact upset. “No, I’m no’ cross at either of ye, a leannan,” he promised her. “The ride on the Merry’round just made my wame all wobbly, such that I forgot my manners.” 

I bounced Bree on my hip. “I bet sometimes you feel a bit grumpy when your tummy hurts, too, right?”

“Oh, aye,” she conceded, a flash of pure Scottishness beaming through, as it did from time to time. She leaned over and gave Jamie’s elbow a clumsy pat. “Sorry for y’r tummy hurted.” 

“That’s verra kind of ye to say, mo chridhe.” 

“Havva snack, w’feel ALL bedder, okay?”

“…Suggests the young miss with NO motive of her own,” I said, nuzzling my nose against hers.

“Oh, definitely not,” Jamie agreed soberly, eyes twinkling. He stretched, replaced his hat, and exhaled, then gave a small ha! of surprise. “I will say, Bree-love, a wee bite does sound just the thing.” 

Good, let’s HAVV’it.” 

“If there had been ANY doubt about your parentage, Bree, that bottomless pit of a stomach would have been proof-positive.” I sighed. “Alright, you two, let’s see what we can rustle up. Here, Jamie, will you—?” I honestly felt like I was going to fall over.  

Jamie obligingly plucked her out of my arms. “Jesus, lass,” he said with an exaggerated groan, “but you’re getting big.”

“Nuh-uh, Da, I’m the little.”

“Aye, you’re still the little, for now,” he agreed, tenderly tucking her hair behind her ears, “Before long you willna be the littlest, though.

She nodded, sagely. “When Beeyin’s comin.’

“Aye, cub,” he agreed, grinning at me, “when Baby Ian comes.”

Brianna couldn’t be convinced for anything that just ‘Ian’ would do, and insisted each time on referring to her brother by what she considered his full title: Baby Ian. The only problem with this was that she couldn’t seem to manage all the syllables in a row; hence, “Beeyin”; hence as well, many private family jokes, such as equating him to a wee bean; or when the wee lad would start jouncing me about like a racehorse, Jamie cocking his head to the side and asking, ‘Beeyin your bonnet?’, and other such delightful silliness. 

“Alright, let’s see about some chow. You two stay here,” I indicated a nearby shaded picnic table, “and I’ll see what I can scrounge for us. What kind of snack do you want, Bree?”

She screwed up her face in ferocious concentration before saying definitely, “Som’fin GOOD.” 

“Well, thank you for being so specific. Very helpful, I don’t think. Any preferences?” I asked Jamie.

Som'fin good sounds perfect,” he said with an attempt at a wink. 

“Ooooooooo!” Bree squealed a few minutes later when I returned with the goodies.

“Cotton candy,” I explained, carefully passing Jamie the paper cone supporting the precarious pink cloud. 

“Cotton?” he asked dubiously. “And it’s edible?”

“Just spun sugar,” I said with a grin. “Now, Bree, take your fingers and—No-no, just pinch a little off with your—oh—Oh, well.”

Bree had stuck her entire face into the sticky mass and taken a monumental bite, pulling back with wisps of pink in her eyebrows, enraptured. 

Jamie looked skeptical to the extreme. “Does it taste nice, cub?”

“Uh-huh!” Bree clawed out a fistful of fluff and shoved it upward toward Jamie’s mouth. “TASTE!” 

Jamie gave me a preemptive grimace and took a tentative bite. “Holy Moses,” he said, blinking hard and shuddering as he swallowed. “It’s like pouring the whole sugar bowl direct into my mouth.” 

“It’s GOOD,” Bree insisted, chowing down with relish. 

“None so verra filling, I’d wager, but as long as ye like rotting your teeth out—” 

“Here,” I laughed, “I came prepared with other options as well.” I pulled the next item from the bag. “Care for some Elephant Ear? Just a silly name, I promise,” I said hastily, seeing his alarm. “No pachyderms harmed in the making of this treat.” 

“What is it, then?” he asked, peering around Bree’s head. “Pastry?” 

“Try it while there’s trying to be had,” I said, handing it to him. “I’m eating for two, and we fully intend to eat our way through the entire elephant.” 

He did enjoy the fried dough, going back for several huge bites, licking powdered sugar from his fingertips. “Lord, though I dinna ken if I can manage wi’ any more sweeties.” 

“Alright, let’s see how you manage this.” 

Jamie had probably never had American corn in any form before, I reflected, let alone on the original cob. I certainly hadn’t grown up eating it, and so it didn’t occur to me to buy it at the market. From the gusto with which Jamie inhaled the roasted ear, slathered with butter and spices, though, it was going to have to become a regular staple. 

“No foolish name for this one?” he asked as he was finishing the last few bites. 

“Not as far as I know,” I shrugged, trying to wipe Bree’s face, which was an unmitigated disaster-zone.

"Pity. Missed a good chance.” 


He waved the naked cob suggestively. “Corn on the co….” And the barest-whisper of “…ck.”

“You’re a ridiculous human being,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss him. 

“And you are absolutely lovely,” he murmured back against my lips, squeezing my knee. 

“C’n I havva cornna-cock, too?” 

Dating Tony Padilla would include...

Originally posted by female-winston

  • helping him work on his car
  • “You know y/n, you’re the one thing I love more than my car.”
  • “I’m honored Padilla.”  
  • cooking dinner together when you have the house to yourselves
  • he has tons of pet names for you including babe, mi amor, and hun
  • him and his brothers “taking care of” any one who hurts you in anyway
  • car sex
  • random drives in his mustang
  • making mixtapes for each other
  • he’s not big on pda, but he still holds your hand in the hallways
  • when you’re alone he’s all over you
  • hickies on your collarbone
  • he loves taking pictures of you in or next to his car
  • “My two babies.”
  • very thoughtful and out of the box dates
  • sex with Tony is always insanely passionate
  • climbing up the same mountain he took Clay
  • “Can’t keep up Padilla?”
  • “Maybe I’m just enjoying the view.”
  • double dates with Clay and Hannah
  • he’s always looking out for you (making sure you eat your food lmaooo)
  • giving each other massages after stressful days
  • stealing and wearing his leather jacket
  • kissing his tattoos
  • laughing at how long it takes him to get ready in the mornings
  • “Jesus you take longer than I do!”
  • “Hey! It takes time to look this good!”
  • messing up his hair later that night (;
  • he’s an amazing listener and always manges to give the perfect advice
  • “Clay was wrong you know. You’re totally a helpful Yoda.”
  • him casually slipping Spanish into his sentences (which you absolutely love because you get to hear snippets of his accent)
  • everyone at school shipping you together

The Kitchens

part ix

Sirius’ world stopped like a punch delivered to the jaw. It was roaring, the fight was on, and then he was down, wind knocked out of him. He slammed the door against Regulus and leaned against it, breathing hard into the humid wood.


Sirius slammed his hand against the wall, the smack of skin against stone echoing through the hallway. He hit it again, and again, needing the sting to combat the pounding in his chest. Blood felt like it was rushing out of his veins, into his being, flooding and choking him. He felt too hot, too breathless, too much.

The wedding.

He’d always known it was coming but now that it was here he felt as if he had never known it was coming at all. Reality is very different from eventuality. He pushed off the wall, feeling drunk with his sorrow, and stumbled, eyes aimless, towards the stairs. He gripped the railing as he walked down, feeling his head start to steady with the now familiar path. He stopped at the kitchen door, just out of sight. Waves of heat coming from the ovens inside brushed his more visible cheek. His breath panted through his parted lips, heart beating too fast for his lungs. He clenched his teeth and tried to breath slowly through his nose, and then forgot all about his breathing all together. Maybe air too.

Because suddenly Remus was there, walking into his small window of view, breathless smile on his face and laughing, hands full of strawberries. Someone was stoking the fire, the loud whooshes of the blower and the crackling flames overtaking most of the sound and conversation, but Sirius was content to watch. The sight brought a awful throbbing up behind his eyes and he squeezed them shut hard for a second before opening then onto the scene that, if he had to define heartache for someone, he’d show them this. He’d show them them. Him and Remus. Happy and doomed. On a very quickly burning wick. One that had felt like they could slow down, or maybe keep relighting, until just now.

He swallowed. He didn’t want that to be true. He couldn’t lose that smile, not yet.

Remus’ hair was curly from the heat, smaller curls sticking to his skin at his temples. He’d gained more freckles from the summer sun and he was tanner too. Sirius’ eyes moved to his neck. It had a slight sheen of sweat and Sirius had to lean his temple against the wall for a moment at the thought of how, just there, at the hollow of his throat, it always smelled so sweet. Like sugar and firewood smoke. He couldn’t lose that, he couldn’t. His hands suddenly felt empty with lack of holding him, and Sirius looked to the loosely tied apron around Remus’ waist, wanting to pull the strings loose and hold him around his hips.

How much longer will I be able to do that?

The thought was enough to deliver the punch all over again and he let the air out of his lungs, as if he really had been hit in the stomach. For a second, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to breath in again.

“Hey-” Sirius jumped, turning to see James standing there with a hand over his mouth. He put his hands up, looking sheepish, and exaggeratedly tip-toed to Sirius’ other side, out of view of the door, “Shit, sorry. Are we spying on lover boy? How very french of you.”

Sirius definitely couldn’t breathe now. He just stared at his friend, watching him try to get a look at Remus.

“Hm, chopping strawberries. Delicious. Sort of sexy. You know,” he shrugged, “as far as food goes, I suppose.” He craned his neck, “Want me to get mum out of there? I mean, try to. If she’s doing dessert it’s going to be pretty difficult but-“

James took one look at Sirius’ face and stopped talking, smirk melting like chocolate over flames. His brows pulled low, eyes flickering over his face, “Sirius- God, what’s wrong?” James placed a strong hand on his shoulder, “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Sirius finally dragged his eyes away from James, looking back to Remus, at the way his eyes and nose crinkled as he laughed particularly hard, at the long fingers he pushed through his hair, getting it off his forehead.

“He looks so happy.”

“Well,” James shook his head a little, looking briefly to Remus then back, “Yeah. Of course, he does. You did too a few days ago, I don’t… I don’t understand, what happened?” Then his eyes widened, “Fuck, is this about what I said? Because if it is, Jesus, don’t listen to me. You’re fine, I was just being- I don’t know, my mum. Sirius-“

“It’s not what you said.”

James cut off, swallowing unsurely, “Oh. Okay, then… then what?”

Sirius turned back to him, desperately not wanting to say it, desperately needing his friend to just know. The throbbing was back, along with a lump in his throat, “James…” He felt his voice crack.

James blinked, then blinked again, and then the understanding was there. His hand tightened on Sirius’ shoulder, “Oh god…”

Sirius closed his eyes, turning away.

“God… Sirius.” And then Sirius was being pulled away into what he vaguely registered as some sort of office, and against a chest in a very tight, very welcomed hug. They swayed silently, James fingers sure and solid against the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” James’ voice shook a little, and the fact that his grief could bring James so much as well made him want to cry too. Does he bring nobody anything but grief? “I’m so sorry.”

Sirius pulled back and he looks at the darkened spots on the shoulder of James’ shirt numbly. James’ hands were still on his shoulders, steadying him, “When did this happen? At dinner?”

Sirius pressed his palms to his eyes, nodding, “To Bellatrix. To Bellatrix, James.”

By the time he was done telling him, about Bellatrix, about the society, about Regulus, James looked as ready to throw something as he did when he woke Sirius up only to discover he had a fresh black eye.

“Fucking hell… And there’s no getting out of it?”

Sirius shot him a look and James swore again.

“Why did this have to happen now?” Sirius kicked the chair with enough effort to make it wobble, not enough to knock it over. He pushed his hair off his forehead, letting it fall back with a sigh, “When I have everything to lose… I- I can’t even imagine…”

For a fleeting moment, a terrible image of him as king, Bellatrix by his side and Remus, just down stairs, a million miles away filled his head. He felt sick.

James took a seat on the chair he’d kicked, possibly a subtle gesture to keep him from doing it again, and didn’t answer right away. Then, tentatively looking up at him, “Are… Did you come down here to tell him?”

“No.” Sirius said immediately.

James raised an eyebrow, “No?”

Sirius turned away, “No.”

There was a slight pause, “You aren’t going to tell him?” Sirius didn’t answer, “Sirius.”

“I don’t…” Sirius pressed his lips together in frustration, I don’t want to, “I don’t know.”

He heard James get to his feet behind him, “Jesus Christ, Sirius-“

He turned, “Not yet.” James took a step back at the bite in his tone but didn’t look surprised. The anger on Sirius’ face melted as soon as it had come, and all he felt was hopeless. He looked at James, desperate for him to understand, “I can’t. I can’t lose him yet. I can’t…”

James hesitated, then nodded, eyes roaming the room as if looking for an explanation, “He’s going to find out though. You know that, sooner or later-“

“I know.” Just not yet.

“Well… Then you’re going to have to pretend like everything’s, fine, normal, whatever it is between you too.”

Sirius sank into the chair that James had occupied and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back in frustration, “No, no, he’s going to know something’s wrong.”

“Not if you-“

“He’ll know.” Sirius cut him off.

James fidgeted, “Oh..kay.” He drew the word out, sighing, “Well.”

Sirius opened his eyes, “Well?”

James shrugged, looking helpless and sorry for it, “Play it by ear.” Then, after a hesitation, “It’d be easier to just tell him.”

Sirius shook his head, “Not now. Please. I’ll- I’ll figure something out.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was begging. James couldn’t do anything, couldn’t force him. Sirius pressed his palms to his forehead, letting out a shuttering breath.

“Just don’t keep it from him forever. It’ll ruin him and yourself if he finds out the wrong way. You know it will.”

Sirius looked down, turning his head away sharply as if that would send away the images of Remus’ smile falling from his face that filled his mind.

The path to ruin already felt well underway.


Remus untied his apron, deliberating whether or not it was too early to sneak up the main staircase to the secret passage way. He’d slept in Sirius’ room four nights now and he already almost couldn’t remember what it felt like not to sleep next to Sirius. Of course, he always had to get up before him, rising with the sun. He usually just settled with pressing a kiss to Sirius’ still sleeping form but, once, Remus had woken up to Sirius’ eyes already on him.

He hadn’t looked like he was thinking, or wondering, or analyzing. He was just smiling, only a little, with his eyes hooded and tired. Once Remus’ eyes opened, fast and awake in a moment as usual, his smile had grown and he had brought his hand to Remus’ cheek. Remus could almost see the way the orange morning sun had softly bathed his face, making his grey eyes a sea-glass-like blue instead of grey. Luminescent and layered, like pools of shallow water. They had just laid there, staring and smiling at each other, letting the sun warm their bare bodies and tangled limbs. No words had been said, not even when Remus left with a kiss to Sirius’ lips, but the feeling was there. The feeling that was so strong, Remus couldn’t even be sure they hadn’t put it into words, in their own way.

As he picked his way through the dark passage way now, the back of the bookshelf-door coming into view, the words played in his head on loop.

He pushed the bookshelf, letting it give away easily to his strength and slipping through the opening. He waits for the hands, for the lips that are usually on him the second he arrives, but they don’t come. He blinks and looks around.


“In here!” And then a second later, “Don’t bother bringing your clothing!”

The voice comes from the connected bathroom, echoing a little off the tiles. A thrill shoots up Remus’ spine at what he might find when he walks in there. He slipped his shoes off on his way, biting back a smile. He entered the bathroom a little hesitantly, poking his head through first. He’d never been in this part of Sirius’ chambers before. He had to lean against the wall for a second at what he finds, grin spreading across his face.

Sirius was sat in a steaming, large, ceramic bath, skin gleaming with the moisture, hair curling from it, and grinning lazily. His arms were thrown over the sides, giving Remus a very good view of his broad shoulders and chest, both well muscled. He looked practically golden against the white tiles, traced with smaller green stones. Remus pressed a hand to his chest, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Thought I told you not to bring your clothes?” Sirius flicked the water with his fingertips, the tiniest of drops reaching Remus.

Remus raised an eyebrow, hand shifting to pulling at the ties of his shirt, slowly loosening the neck as he walked forward. He wasn’t exactly fond of his body, as it was quite thinner than Sirius’, but the look in Sirius’ eyes as the shirt slipped down one of his shoulders let him know that he was the only one. He felt confidence swell in his chest, “Thought you might enjoy the show instead.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered a little as he laughed, sinking into the water up to his neck, “Fuck.”

Remus tugged his shirt over his head, letting it fall on top of the pile Sirius had already started. He picked his foot up, stretching his torso back a little to pull his sock off, “Unless you want to help, of course.”

Remus had barely finished his sentence before Sirius was pushing forward, floating a second in the water before he hit the other side, water sloshing dangerously and fingers wrapping around the edge, “God, yes.” His hands were instantly on the buttons of Remus’ trousers, material becoming dark with the wetness on them. He pushed the material down over Remus’ arse, pausing only for a moment to let Remus kick them away before he was nuzzling against Remus’ stomach, “So warm.”

Remus’ breath hitched at how soft his voice was, his breath against his stomach. His fingers automatically went to his hair just as Sirius’ came to wrap loosely around his hips, stroking the backs of his thighs lightly. Despite the heavy steam filling the room, Remus shivered, “Yeah?” He breathed.

“Mm.” Sirius started pressing open-mouthed kisses to Remus’ skin, lips parting to bite gently at his hip bone, “So warm and… God, your taste…”

Remus let his eyes close, his head fall back at the feeling of Sirius so close, holding him. He waits for this all day. This closeness, it never leaves the back of his mind. He tightened his fingers in Sirius’ hair, looking back down to him, watching the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He ran his fingers through the dark, slightly damp strands, pushing them away from his forehead, letting his fingers press into his skin, “Sirius-”

“Let me. I’ve got you..” There was suddenly a note of urgency to Sirius’ voice and Remus felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his thighs, “I’ve got you..”

“I know.” His breathing hitched, voice rising a little in tone, “I know-” And then Remus’ jaw was falling open as, for the first time, Sirius’ took him in his mouth, “God. God, Sirius…”

Sirius’ palms flattened against the small of Remus’ back, running up and down as if he was trying to soak in the heat. He knelt up on the tiled seat beneath the water, and brought one of his hands forward to wrap around the base of Remus’ cock. He took long, slow drags, breathing in through his nose.

Remus’ thighs hit the cool edge of the bath as his knees gave way a little, sinking into the feeling of Sirius’ lips around him, “God…”

Sirius just hummed, causing Remus to jolt and grasp his shoulder, fingers digging into the bone. The feeling suddenly brings him much closer to the edge than before. It was everything, really. The waiting, wanting to see each other. The secret. The heat. Sirius and his glistening skin, on his knees in front of him. The irony of that last part, for the moment at least, was lost on Remus. Sirius’ fingers tightened on the base of Remus’ cock, causing his breaths to come shallowly, his hands to tremble. He looked down again, and when he saw the way one of Sirius’ hands was working on himself, he was gone, letting out a cry and gripping Sirius’ shoulder, “Yes. Yes, Jesus…” His words only seemed to spur Sirius on and he stiffened a moment later, his moan sending jolts of pleasure up Remus’ spine.

As his breathing came down, Sirius pulled off slowly, switching to pressing soft kisses on his hips. His mouth was slow and he seemed to be more simply pressing, feeling, than actual kissing, “You know, I could kiss every inch of you.”

Remus grins sleepily, eyes hooded but bright, hands still in Sirius’ hair, “I don’t think I’d protest.”

His hands are back on Remus’ hips, pulling slightly, urging him into the water with him. Sirius is grinning but his eyes look slightly tight around the edges, “Come here.”

Remus obliged, lifting one thigh, then the other, laughing when Sirius bent to kiss the soft skin between them as he did. When his feet hit the water, he gasped despite himself. He had known it was going to be warm, he’d seen the steam, but it took him by surprise.

Sirius’ brows creased as he looked up at him, seating Remus on the ledge, water coming up just around his calves, “What? What is it, what’s wrong?”

Remus let out a little surprised laugh at the ferocity of Sirius’ concern, “Nothing.” He let the pad of his thumb run briefly across Sirius’ lip, then reached up to smooth his brow, “Nothing’s wrong at all, I just…” He shrugged, a little embarrassed, and let his fingers drag through the water, “It’s hot. It’s not usually hot.”

Sirius’ frown disappeared in understanding and he grinned, pressing up on the step once more so they were chest to chest. His skin was warm, “There’s coals beneath the floor.” He leaned in a nipped gently at the skin below Remus’ ear, “I can have them stoked as long as I’d like… We can be in here… for hours, and hours…”

Remus grinned, throwing his arms around Sirius’ neck as he pulled him into the water. They were pressed together, and Sirius wrapped Remus’ legs around his waist, walking them backwards until they were sat at the far side of the square bath again.

“This-” Remus let his eyes close as Sirius kissed his neck. He can’t remember ever feeling so warm and, as he realized, safe. He’d never felt so safe, “This is more like a small pond than a bath.”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, too busy nosing at the hollow of Remus’ throat. He tried to push away the pangs to his chest that the sweet smell there brought.

“It is this size for the sole purpose so that you can come in here with me.” He felt the slight tension in Remus’ back muscles and moved swiftly to press a long, hard kiss to Remus’ lips, murmuring, “And no one else.”

“Hm.” Remus hummed. He pulled back, only for a second, to see Sirius’ face, “Good.” Then he smiled and kissed him again, letting Sirius’ tongue part his lips and pressing his palms to Sirius’ cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the heated flesh. His hands moved to the back of his neck and he freezes, lips parting in surprise against Sirius’.

“Hm?” Sirius says breathlessly, “What?”

“What’s this?”

Sirius tilts his head a little and then he feels what Remus’ fingers are running over. He swallows, “Oh. I…Oh.”

Remus tilted his neck forward a little, hands running through his hair to push it away and then cursing, “Jesus. Sirius are these- are these from- fingernails?”

Sirius bites his lip but he knows there’s no point in lying. He runs his hands over Remus’ back, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to comfort more, “I- yes. Look, it’s, I don’t know-“

“Don’t say it’s fine.” Remus’ eyes are hard, “It isn’t fine-“

“I know, I know.” Sirius desperately wants Remus to stop looking at him like that. Not when they have so little time. Not now, “It’s just- It’s like her way of reigning me in. Like pulling on a horse’s lead.”

Remus’ hands tighten in his hair, his face going slightly white, “Sirius, do you even hear yourself-“

Sirius feels panic swelling in his chest, and he brings his hands to Remus’ where they are placed on his chest and holds them between his, “Please. Please, Re, I don’t want to talk about this now.” He brings Remus’ knuckles briefly to his lips before releasing them in favor of holding him against him, “Please.”

Remus’ cheeks were flushed and pink in the dim candle light of the bathroom, his eyes worried. He reached out and touched the pink scar on Sirius’ lip, thick and raised from years of being re-opened, then leaned forward and brushed his own against it, “You can’t keep secrets for her. Not this one. Not like this.” He lets their foreheads fall together, “This is not your secret to keep. You don’t have to-“

“I do have to.” Sirius paused, eyes squeezing shut, trying to focus on Remus, his heat, his smell, him, “There are so many things I have to do… Remus…” Tell him Tell him Tell him.

I can’t.

“No, there aren’t.” Remus said it simply, pressing his face into the warmth of Sirius’ neck. Sirius relaxed into the water, leaning back and resting his palm on the back of Remus’ head, holding him there. His cheek rested against his temple, “There aren’t.” Remus said again, softer.

He wanted nothing more than that to be true.

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Sirius said just as quietly. He closed his eyes, feeling Remus’ breath and fingers tracing over the small crescent moon scars on his neck. He felt a flutter and realized it was Remus’ eyelashes, blinking against his shoulder, “I’m okay, Remus. I am.”

“I know.” Remus’ voice was slightly muffled against his skin, “Just… I don’t like that you think they have this much control over you.”

Sirius trailed his fingers down the nobs of Remus’ spine, feeling, memorizing, “I was born into this life.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to live this life.” Remus lifted his head, brow creased, “It’s your life.” Remus watched Sirius’ face for a moment, tilting his head a little, “You don’t believe me.”

Sirius sighed, “It isn’t about belief-“

“Yes, it is.” Remus cut him off, “Sirius,” he licked his lips, gathering his thoughts, “You started believing, somewhere down the line, that it was okay for your mother to do this to you. It isn’t. You believe that your life course is set. It isn’t. I mean, God, shouldn’t the fact that we’re sitting here talking—bathing—together right now be enough to prove to you that courses change? Paths change, life, beliefs change?” When Sirius just looked at him, something unreadable in his expression, Remus pressed on, “When we first met you were so, so rude. You thought you were above and I was below. Do you believe that now?”

“No.” Sirius said immediately, “No, of course not-“

“See?” Remus’ fingers wound themselves through Sirius’ hair, suddenly feeling desperate. He wasn’t talking about Sirius’ mother anymore, no matter how important it was. He was talking about them, about himself.

Believe in me. Believe in us. Don’t leavedon’tleavedon’tleave don’t leave me.

“See, you changed. You changed your beliefs about me. You can do it again.” He pressed a soft kiss to Sirius’ mouth, “Sirius, you don’t deserve this torture. You don’t deserve to be hurt, or to be ‘reigned in.’” Remus whipped wetness from Sirius cheek and Sirius blinked a few times, like he hadn’t realized it was there, “You deserve the world, no matter how big or small it is—I have no idea—but you deserve it. Look what you grew up in and look how you are.” Remus’ voice cracked, “You’re good. God, you’re so good… You deserve to choose.”

Sirius’ cheeks were streaked now, eyes brimmed with tears, “I don’t know how. What if it’s too late, I don’t know how-”

Remus pressed his forehead to Sirius’, “Yes, you do. You do, Sirius-“


Remus stopped talking at the note in Sirius’ voice. He thinks he might have stopped breathing too. He’d never seen Sirius cry, not like this. He’d never seen him look so… hopeless. He just looked hopeless. His hands were on his cheeks in a moment, hating the way Sirius seemed to crumple against them. His tears fell into the hot water just as fast as Remus could wipe them away. Sirius pulled at Remus’ hands, turning away, causing panic to swell in Remus’ chest, “Sirius- Hey. Hey, it’s okay, love-“

No.” Sirius voice caught, but at least he was looking at Remus again. His eyes were wild, and Remus didn’t know what was more present there, tears or fear, “No, it isn’t… It isn’t.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, and he pulled Remus against him, causing the water to ripple out around them. His fingers dug into Remus’ ribs, “It isn’t okay.”

Remus’ fingers were shaking now, on the verge of tears himself, “Shh. Please, shh…”  He pushed the hair back from Sirius’ forehead, “Okay, don’t think about it now. It’s just us here. None of that, none of them..” He put his lips shakily to Sirius’, soft presses, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Sirius nodded, tilting his chin up into the kisses, “Re..”

Remus cupped his face, palms on his neck, thumbs on his cheeks, “I know. I’m sorry, I pushed too hard, I’m sorry… You’re okay-“

“No. No, that isn’t-“ His voice choked off, “That isn’t what…” Sirius let out a shuddering breath, “God, I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Don’t say that.” Remus whispered. He couldn’t seem to still his hands, comforting, feeling, needing Sirius to know he was there, “I’m- What can I do?”

For a few moments, there was only the soft sound of the water against the sides of the bath, and of their breathing. Ripples appeared on the surface of the water when Sirius reached up, cupping the back of Remus’ neck. He shook his head a little, leaning into Remus’ palm.

Tell him tell him tell him.

I can’t.

“Don’t leave. Just don’t leave.”


They threw Sirius’ windows open, dragging the large, soft sofa in front of them and letting the warm night air dry their bare skin. They were a tangle of limbs and calming breath, passing the time with kisses and soft touches; Remus’ to dry Sirius’ tears, Sirius’ to memorize, re-memorize, and cherish.

Remus was draped over Sirius’ body, skin against skin, hands in his hair and mouth parting his with slow, long kisses. Sirius’ lips were pliable against his own, letting Remus taste every inch of him. Every once in a while, he’d feel Sirius smile into the kisses, and his heart felt a little lighter each time.

“‘m here.” He said again. He’d been repeating the phrase every few minutes for the last half hour, and he wasn’t prepared to stop any time soon.

Sirius smiled a small smile again, “I believe you.” His voice was still a little thick from crying, eyes puffy, but it only made Remus want to kiss him again. He leaned in again only to find his way blocked by a thumb pressing into his bottom lip. He sent Sirius a questioning look and was rewarded with another soft grin, a little nervous this time, “I… I have something for you.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, then bit softly at Sirius’ thumb, making him crinkle his nose a little but smile, “For me?”

“Mhm.” Sirius nudge his nose against Remus’, “You’ll have to let me up a moment though. To fetch it.”

“Well then.” Remus attempted to make himself as heavy as possibly, dropping his head into Sirius’ neck, “I don’t know if I want it if it means giving this up.”

Sirius laughed, sniffling, but Remus grinned as he felt the rumble in his chest, “It’ll be a moment only. Please? Here,” Remus felt a hand press against his back, keeping him in place while Sirius leant up, snagging a blanket from the far end of the sofa and dragging it loosely over Remus’ body, “To keep you warm while I’m away, yeah?”

Remus sighed dramatically, biting gently at Sirius’ neck in protest before rolling off him, throwing his arm over his eyes, “You take me in the bath and then leave me. How typical.”

He heard Sirius laugh, cough a little, and pad across the room. He heard a drawer open and close, and it was only seconds later before a heavy weight was back on his chest, causing him to choke out a laugh and blink against the flickering candle light, “Jesus.” Sirius’ face hovered above him, thighs straddling his hips. Remus rubbed his hands up his sides, “Back so soon?”

“With gifts.”

Remus pressed his hands to the warmth of Sirius’ back, feeling the hard muscles there, “I don’t need gifts.”

“You get them anyway.” Sirius sat up, perching himself on Remus’ hips. Remus tried not to think to hard about the fact that the only thing separating them was a very thin blanket. Sirius held out two fists, “Pick a hand.”

Remus grinned, hands inching up Sirius’ thighs, “Can’t I pick something else?”

A flush appeared on Sirius’ neck, cheeks heating with arousal, and he smiled down at Remus, subtly admiring the way his hair was splayed against the pillows, “After, be my guest.”

Remus hummed, satisfied, and looked between the two, “Okay… That one.”

Sirius hesitated, then the corners of his mouth turned down in the way they did when he was trying not to smile, “Um. Pick again.”

Remus snorted, then pointed to the other, “That one, then.”

Sirius grinned, “Right, now close your eyes.”

Remus groaned, “You take an awful long time to give presents.” He mumbled.

“Oh, hush.”

Remus flicked his hands in surrender and closed his eyes.

For a moment he felt no movement, just the breeze coming in from the window. Then there were fingers trailing on his cheek, his neck, his chest.

“Please tell me I’ve said how gorgeous you are.”

Remus smiled, the candles creating soft oranges and pinks through his eyelids, “You have.”

The fingers trailed down his arm to his hand, catching his fingers, “Remind me to tell you more often then.” Then, something cool pressed around one finger and Remus’ eyes flew open, falling instantly to the small golden band that now adorned his hand.

He pushed himself up, only just catching Sirius from sliding off his lap, hand clutching his hip, “Sirius…”

“It’s not all the trouble you’re thinking of right now. It, um. Well, it was mine. Only I think it’s kind of stupid to wear your own initial around but…” Sirius took a large breath, “But I thought… maybe you’d…”

Remus blinked and, looking closer, he saw that there was indeed a small, delicate SB inscribed on the ring. The air in his lungs suddenly felt all too slight. He adored it automatically.

“I mean, I know you can’t actually wear it with, you know, work and- well, the fact that this is… what it is but… knowing you’ll have it… I’d like that.” Sirius huffed, fiddling with Remus’ fingers, “I just know it’s hard to see each other sometimes.” Then, quieter, “I just want you to know…” Remus looked away from the ring to Sirius’ face. His eyes were fixed on their hands, eyelashes long and lip between his teeth, “Remus, I think of you always.” He looked up, brows drawn together, “And nothing will change that. No matter what.” He swallowed, shaking his head, “Not ever.”

He was kissing Sirius before his brain caught up. And the thought was in the back of his mind, the melancholy, the need to memorize this moment for later. For after. And the words were there too. The words that felt like they had been said so many times. And the feeling, so overpowering that Remus felt dizzy. He wanted to say it, he needed to say it… But what happened then? This ring, these promises… what then? When the spell broke and reality set it. Remus kissed Sirius harder, pressing him back against the pillows, feeling the cool metal of his promise around his finger, pushing the thoughts away.

Love was a very real thing, a very permanent thing. Love broke down walls. And Remus wanted so badly to leave himself unprotected.


Sirius was late to dinner the next night. He’d spent almost the entire day sleeping or eating, as Remus had made clear that he would be taken to the doghouse by Ms. Potter if he was late to any more meal preps. He was right, really. They were slipping. They had to spread out their visits, not let anyone catch suspicion. And it killed Sirius, but Remus was right.

He’d overslept and was trying desperately to fix his hair as he walked in, only to freeze. There, filling the usually empty seats, was the Lestrange family. Ice had replaced the air in the room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sirius.” Duchess Lestrange smiled at him, thin lipped and rigid.

He glanced at his mother who was already twisting her ring around her finger, as if preparing, eager to slice it against his cheek once more.

“My apologies.” His voice came out stronger than he’d expected and he was grateful for that. Remus’ voice played in his head. You don’t deserve this.

He began to move around the table, to sit beside Regulus, when the duchess motioned for one of the servants.

“Boy, pull this chair for him.”

Sirius kept his eyes down, already knowing who that chair would be next to. He stiffened and sat without a word, ignoring Bellatrix’s eyes on him to his left, his mother’s to his right.

“Good.” His mother said, “Now that we’re all present we can discuss business.”

Sirius straightened, “No need to stall on my account.” He grumbled.

“Quiet.” His mother snapped. She turned to the duchess and Sirius promptly tuned out. He tried to focus on what would come after dinner. Remus would appear through the bookshelf and, for a time, everything would be alright.

He ignored the bread basket being offered to him from a servant to his right. Remus would be there. Perhaps he’d draw them another bath. He’d ruined that last one, or almost did at least. He’d lied away for what felt like hours after Remus fell asleep, angry with himself. He’d wasted so much of the night, the night that could be one of their lasts.

Sirius huffed, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again his brother was staring at him, and, strangely enough, the bread basket was still there. He leaned away a little, as the basket was being pushed rather insistently into his face. He rolled his eyes, ready to wave his hand and snap at the waiter that he obviously did not want bread.

Only it wasn’t just bread that surrounded the basket. A glint caught his eye and set his brain in motion. Sirius’ breath caught. He noticed the long fingers first. The familiar chip in the thumbnail that had yet to grow back, the pink grease scars that littered the back of the palms. And a ring. A ring with a small SB carved faintly into the band. Sirius swallowed, an uncomfortable mix of dread and elation filling his chest. He glanced up, taking a roll at the same time, needing an excuse to be staring at a servant.

Remus stared back at him, dressed in a uniform that looked to big for him. To anyone else at the table, his face would have appeared blank. But Sirius could see the delight in his eyes. Remus’ mouth curved upwards, just a little. Sirius wanted so badly to smile back. Any other night this would have been the best of surprises, having Remus here at dinner with him, just beside him. He would have made a game of brushing their hands together, of making eye contact across the room and rolling his eyes at what his mother was saying, trying to make him laugh. Any other night. Sirius felt his face pale and a crease appeared between Remus’ brow when he, no doubt, noticed how white Sirius had just gone. How he was in no way smiling back at him.

Sirius turned sharply in his seat, away, causing his water glass to rattle, breathing hard.

No. No, you can’t be here. Not nownotnownotnow. Why was he here?

Sirius looked around for James and didn’t see him. A replacement then.

“Oh, do try to sit still, Sirius.” His mother snarled, “For God’s sake, you’re not a child anymore.”

The table went strangely silent as they waited for Sirius to bite back and, when he didn’t, the conversation resumed too slowly. Sirius looked up then, glancing at each person, making sure they hadn’t noticed his small panic. Most were preoccupied with each other or food. Bellatrix seemed to be trying to shove an entire slab of butter onto her bread. His mother and aunt were in quiet conversation. Regulus…

Sirius’ stiffened, what little bread he had taken turning to ash in his mouth.

Regulus was staring right at him, his own roll in hand. Remus was to his left, moving on to the next guest. Regulus’ face was neutral, but the roll in his hand was nearly crushed. Sirius straightened and looked away.

“It’s certainly a fine plan, is it not?”

The duchess nodded once, back straight as a steel rod, “It will certainly bring in a generous sum. You have your younger, to thank for that.”

Regulus inclined his head stiffly, “I would do whatever it takes to keep the crown in power and at peace.”

His mother raised her glass at him, “A marriage is a fine solution to both necessities.”

And that was it. It was out.

Sirius felt sick. Sweat dripped down his spine. He saw Remus look up from where he was now standing against the wall, hands respectfully behind his back, waiting to be of service. Sirius couldn’t look at him. Instead, he trained his eyes on his mother, silently begging, willing her to change the topic of conversation. It was no use.

“Now, Sirius, Bella, I feel I must ask your opinion on dates. A summer wedding would possible, if not a little rushed-“

“I don’t want to get married when it’s cold.” Bellatrix wined, “I want a summer gown.”

The two women laughed and Sirius winced, keeping his eyes firmly on his plate. He held his hand over his glass, preventing the servant from serving him more wine.

“Well, it’s settled then. Sirius, I assume you want nothing to do with such… trivial matters.”

“Yes.” Sirius looked up at the venom in his mother’s tone, “All he has to do is show up.”

Her eyes bore into him. They said what she didn’t have to. And you will show up.

There was a sudden clatter, making everyone jump. Everyone except Sirius, who wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to move again. Sirius eyes went instantly to the now empty place Remus had been, and then to the source of the noise. Remus stood there, wine bottle in hand, face white and expression shocked, blank.

The Queen stood up, whipping her napkin down, “You fool!”

“I-“ Remus’ voice barely came out and Sirius heart ached. Their eyes met across the room, for just a moment, but Sirius tried to cram every single word that he couldn’t say into that look.

I’m sorry. You weren’t meant to find out like this. I’m sorryI’msorryI’msorry-

“Your Highness, my apologies, I… I- I stand in for another today-“

“And are clearly not up to the task.” The Queen bit back, falling restlessly back into her seat, “I shall have a word with Ms. Potter. Clean this up.

Remus was out of the room in a second, fingers shaking on the handles of the servant’s door.

Sirius couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even remember a time when there had been air in his lungs. He felt as though he were falling apart. Or was it that he was being ripped, piece by piece. He stood, seeing stars.

“Sirius. Sirius, sit this instant.” His mother sounded as though she were speaking through a layer of cotton in his ears.

Regulus was looking at him again, and his firm, dark eyes were the last thing Sirius saw before he fled the room, big, oak doors banging shut behind him.

(A.N.: Ooooh we are getting so close to the end! Just one or two more chapters really… I just want to say how much everyone’s support on this story, their comments, tags, and fucking fan art (I mean jfc do you know how much that means to me??) is so wonderful and kind and beautiful. Thank you so much!! Hmm.. what else can I say… Oh, yes: prepare yourselves. Angst ahead.)


- Wine and Dine. { Negan X You 

Smut under the cut. 1.8K word count.
Summary: You are one of the wives and Negan calls for you. *winkwink*
Note: I’ve been MIA so coming back I thought I’d freshen up with this gem before breaking out much needed chapters! Just some quick writing, enjoy.<3 tags have been random, please let me know if you want to be taken off.~

@negans-network @negansmutweek @fandomfreak202 @negansxlucille @buckybarnesisalittleshit @sub-miss-me @loreleilara @nattiedaunicorn @britbrat7502 @wadeyourebarelyalive @linqobe @prettyepiic @natjm13 @kawaiirepublic @happysgeishadoll @megalittlemaya @ohmyneganimagination-twd @ashzombie13 @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @greasernegan 

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Today I had to get like three shots and medication out the butt because my body is constantly trying to kill me but at least i got starbucks and a roommate who’s kind enough to deal with my whiny ass.

I looked and felt like shit today so I thought why not try too look cool on snapchat when i get home with my new purple hair :v  

My Favorite

Request:  What about a blurb y/n having body image issues ?

“Hey, are you ready?” He asks walking into the bathroom. 

You quickly wipe your tears and look at him, he’s fixing the cuff of his jacket. He’s struggling with the button and looking up to ask you for help but he stops when he sees your tears.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He says, walking up to you, taking you into his arms.

“Nothing, sorry.” You shake your head. 

“It’s not nothing, talk to me.” He says picking you and setting you on the counter so you can’t get away from him. 

“Just, I saw some comments on your picture.”

“Oh.” He says frowning.

“I know I shouldn’t worry, but I can’t help but notice I don’t look like the rest of your friends or co workers.”

“And I don’t want you too.”

“It would be nice if I did, we wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb in pictures.”

“Stick out like a sore thumb?” He asks, eyebrows raised, “Why because my hair is always messy.”


“No, stop. You look fucking amazing and everyone who says otherwise is fucking blind. Simple as that.”

“Shawn.” You start to push him away.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“Do what?”

“Go down the list of everything I love about you.”

“Let’s start from bottom up. Your feet are cute, and I love how you slip them under my thighs when their cold. You long legs kill me, especially when you wear those dark blue jeans. Jesus, like all I can think about is getting between them.” He smirks. 

“Shawn.” You slap his chest.

“Hips, christ Babe, they could knock me dead. And they just happen to fit perfectly in my hands. Were up to torso, which is just perfect. I like to run my fingers up and down it. Now were up to your boobs.” He smirks looking down at them. “They are perfect, they love to tease me.” He chuckles. “Collarbones, they are something else.” He looks up and then back down. “Neck.” He leans into it. “Perfect for my kisses.” He leaves a peck on your neck. 

“Lips.” You sigh. 

“Mmm, my favorite.” He grins, kissing you. “Need I go on.” 

“You can if you want.” You sigh.

“Are you feeling better? Because I can go on.” 

“Yeah I’m feeling better.” You smile at him.


You look down and pick up his hand, taking his cuff in your hands. 

“Shawn Mendes, how did you get so perfect?”

“Been around you too much.” He grins.

Christmas in Newcastle

Pairing: Will Lenney (WillNE) x Reader
Word Count: 2,350
Warnings: A couple of swears
Requested: Yes!
Requests: Open (Sidemen, sidemen of the sidemen, ChrisMD, WillNE, Joe Sugg, Caspar Lee, Buttercream Boys etc etc.)  

Y/N: Your name
Y/B/S: Your birth stone

“William!” I yell, jumping on top of him where he lays asleep in bed.  Gee has let me in their flat because I decided that its been too long since I’ve seen him.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Will groans, pulling the blankets further over his head.  I yank them back and climb in beside him, cuddling up to his warm body.  He wraps his arms around me and looks at me sleepily, “What are you doing here?”

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Shaved hair

So, I have gone back and forth from fully shaved head to mohawk for about 20 years. I have gotten every kind of remark you can think of. From the Amtrak bus driver who asked me “Are you gay” without a single word of preamble, to the cancer patient who gave me a hug without a word.

A shaved head on a woman is a sort of message: “I am different.”

I know it can be terrifying for some, but I seriously do encourage all women straight or not, healthy or not, to do this once. It is liberating and enlightening in ways you cannot conceive. I am not joking. Even when it begins to grow back. Even for your closest relationships.

Case in point: my family just after I got engaged to be married to my physically male, non-binary husband.

Remember I have known this boy since the age of 11. Our parents were kind of like “Jesus Finally!” But one week after I got engaged, I shaved my head again because I’d had long hair for a bit and couldn’t deal anymore. I was with my mom, and she says to me “You cannot get married with a shaved head.” I asked why. She said “Please…the wedding is for me. Just be a girl for a short time. Please.” Promise me no shaved head and no combat boots.“

She was paying. I didn’t know what to say.

I never had a good relationship with my mother. It is better now, and there are reasons I would rather not hash out in public, but this…fucked me up. Because I was me, living alone, had a job and a partner, out of college. I was the person I wanted to be and just like that, it wasn’t good enough. From my mother.

It hurt. And a couple days later, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I went to my fiancé and I said, “Babe, mom says I have to grow my hair out.”

He was joking with me, trying to make me feel better. He said “It’s not hard to deal with long hair!”

I gave him a dirty look. “How would you know? You have never had long hair. I fucking hate long hair.”

He said, “If it will make you feel better, I will absolutely grow my hair out with you.”

“What? Like…our wedding is in two years!”




And he did. He did. We got married with full heads of long gorgeous hair. He had his professionally curled the day of. I shaved mine off two days later. He…left his there for a few more years…well five more. And then he took me to a special salon where they donate the hair to cancer patients and hacked it off.

“Beauty” and the concept of “pretty” are cages. They are chains. I am a woman even if I am not female. I am powerful. I made a baby. I wrote books. I dealt with shit you wouldn’t believe. I married a person who is incredible. We have an amazing life. My hair has nothing to do with it.

This pride, if you dare, if you want to see what it is like to know yourself without all that societal bullshit, shave your head. Have pride in that which lies within. If you’re a guy? Grow it out. Do something that people would immediately assign to another gender.

Do it. You only live once. Don’t go to your death thinking “God I wish I had just been me.”

Be you.

I love you guys.

anonymous asked:

aww man if youre still looking for prompts, i would love to see the first chapter of if we bite from nursey's point of view? like, what exactly was he thinking when he brought up blowjobs to dex etc? that would be amazing!


He’s not sure why he says it.

It might be the stress, or the way that studying Shakespeare makes him think about sex more than usual, or the fact that he’s scatterbrained and tired and that makes him lose his filter, but–

“God,” Nursey mumbles, mostly into Dex’s bedspread. “I’m so tense right now. I just need to suck a dick, you know?”

Dex chokes on his Red Bull and starts coughing, bending over his desk. He’s totally red, and Nursey’s not sure if it’s from what he said or the fact that he can’t breathe, but he snickers as he gets up and smacks him on the back a few times. “Jesus, Poindexter,” he laughs. “Chill.”

You chill,” Dex chokes out. “What the shit, man, you can’t just say that.”

Nursey blinks at him, all innocence, just to be a dick. He and Dex are friends now, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like riling him up. “Say what?”

Dex rolls his eyes, then puts on his Derek Voice, which he usually reserves for terrible reenactments of stories where Nursey’s done something embarrassing. “‘I just need to suck a dick,’ bro? Really?”

Satisfied that Dex is breathing again, since he’s chirping, Nursey flops back onto Dex’s bed. “Hey, we’ve all got our stress relief.”

Dex’s cheeks go pink. Nursey refuses to find this attractive. “Yeah, but like…Don’t you mean, uh, have someone suck yours?”

Oh. That’s what this is about. Nursey raises an eyebrow at him pointedly. “No,” he says. “I said what I meant.”

Dex flushes redder, mutters something about how he doesn’t think that could be relaxing, and Nursey snorts, chirps him gently. They go back and forth like that a bit, Dex getting redder and redder but still asking, not dropping it, and finally, Nursey gives up. “You really wanna know?”

Dex’s throat works as he swallows, and he shrugs. “Good to know how your d-man ticks, right?”

There’s something under his words that Nursey can’t really place, and the room feels warmer than it did before, the weird tension that’s always hovered between them thicker, tighter. Nursey licks his lips and closes his book. “Yeah, okay.” He sits up, hesitating slightly as he thinks through what he wants to say. He knows how he feels when he’s going down on someone, but he’s never had to put into words to another person before.

The closest he’s ever come is putting it on paper, but even that has just been snippets of sensation, and those poems have never seen the light of day.

“I guess it’s about turning my brain off,” he says slowly, carefully. “Y’know, you’ve just got an objective that you’re going for, and you don’t have to think about it. And it’s a lot of sensation, so there’s that, too.” He smiles, thinking a little absently of his favorite parts. “Hard to think too much when your mouth is full and someone’s got their hands in your hair and–”

“Okay, I get it,” Dex says quickly, cutting him off.

Nursey grins. “What,” he teases. “C’mon, you don’t get the same thing eating pussy?”

He knows Dex has had at least one long-term girlfriend, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’s done oral–he hopes he has, at least, Jesus, he’s an asshole but he should at least be a gentleman in bed–but Dex flushes again. “Not exactly,” he says. “I was definitely still, uh, thinking.”

Huh. Nursey shrugs. “Maybe it’s just my thing, then.” Dex still looks uncomfortable, though, and honestly, he sort of is, too–this is more than they’ve ever talked about sex, just the two of them, and it’s sort of weird. And not just because the way Dex keeps looking at him when he talks is making him half-hard in his jeans. He’s grateful for the notebooks in his lap. He changes the subject to something safer. “I mean, it’s no Finer Arts of Maplewood Sanding, but–”

The tension breaks as Dex rolls his eyes. “I swear to God, bro–”

They manage another hour or so of work before Nursey has to give up again, too stressed and annoyed with his essay to keep trying to make his points flow together the way he wants them to. He closes his laptop and gets up. Dex asks if he wants to get dinner, but Nursey turns him gently down–he’s too jittery to eat, and he needs something to calm him down before he can do anything else. He’ll text Lardo first, see if he can get a joint off her; if not, he’ll try one of Sadie’s art friends–

“Or,” Dex blurts out, as Nursey’s halfway out the door.

Nursey stops. Slowly, hesitantly, he turns. Dex is staring at him, upright and rigid in his desk chair, looking a little bit like he’s not sure saying something was a good idea, but like he still has more to say. Nursey raises his eyebrows. “Uh,” he says. “Or what?”

Dex stares at him for another moment, deer-in-the-headlights, and then he seems to force himself to relax, leaning back in his chair, all casual. “I mean,” he says, letting his legs fall open slightly. Nursey does not let his gaze flicker down. He doesn’t. “I’ve got a dick?”

Nursey’s brain does the thought equivalent of a record scratch. He stares. His brain plays the Mac OXS startup music. Chimes. He stares. Dex looks back.

“Are you fucking with me right now,” he says finally, “or are you serious?”

“Serious?” Dex says. It sounds like he’s guessing. Nursey frowns at him, and Dex flushes, backpedaling, talking quickly. “I mean, y’know. Giving blowjobs relaxes you. Getting blowjobs relaxes me. Seems like a win-win?”

He’s rambling by the end, and all Nursey can do is keep staring at him, his mouth open slightly. He blinks a little, and swallows. “I thought you were straight,” he says.

Dex shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe,” he says, and Nursey thinks, wildly, maybe???, but then Dex gestures at Nursey, encompassing his whole body, which…what? “But I’m not fucking blind.”

And it’s Nursey’s turn to flush a little, his cheeks warming. Because he’s used to compliments, yeah, used to people looking at him, but for some reason it feels different, coming from Dex. He’s not really sure why. Not really sure he wants to think about why.

He takes a breath. “If you’re fucking with me, this is a seriously dick move, even for you,” he says. “Like, grade-A asshole move. You know that, right?”

Dex nods, raising his hands, as if in surrender. “Genuine fucking offer, I swear.”

Offer. Like he’s doing Nursey a favor, letting him suck his dick. Like it’s a nice thing to do, letting Nursey get his mouth on him, see what he tastes like, feels like, see if he flushes all the way down his body when he’s turned on–

Fuck. He’s really going to do this. Nursey schools his face to calm. “Yeah, alright,” he says easily, smiling, and closing the door properly. “Chill.”

Dex looks almost as startled as Nursey feels, and for a second, Nursey thinks he is going to pull a “just kidding!”, but he doesn’t. He lets Nursey chirp him about the fact that he and his suitemates are computer nerds who never get laid. He takes off his jeans. They talk about condoms and STIs, because assholes or not, they’re not idiots.

And then Dex is sitting down on the edge of his bed in his boxers and t-shirt, his cheeks flushed, the outline of a semi visible through the thin cotton of his underwear, his eyes fixed on Nursey. Nursey watches his throat move as he swallows. “You wanna?”

He pats the bed next to him, clearly expecting Nursey to blow him from there, and Nursey hesitates. That’s the piece of this that he didn’t mention, but that’s okay. Dex’ll figure it out soon enough.

“Nope,” he says. Nursey smiles, making sure he holds Dex’s gaze, steady and unbreaking, and, slowly, he sinks to his knees.