#and wouldnt ya know it i flipped the colors on his arm too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go · 5 months

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Be warned. They're gay and I wrote this a 2am while listening to G.I.N.A.S.F.S on repeat.

"I'm home! Andy, Joe and the brothers are still -" pete opened the door and promptly dropped his keys. "What the fuck?"

The kitchen was a mess, shattered glass all over the floor, someone had dropped and entire bottle of what seemed to be rosé onto the tile. Something caught his eye, next to the remenents of a bottle of gin. Pete gingerly stepped around the sharp fragments to lift the item off the floor. Patricks glasses.

Pete looked around, this was strange. "Patrick?"

No response.

The room suddenly seemed to warm.

Fuck, not this again.

Pete gripped the edge of the counter. Patrick had touched his arm that morning, god his hands . . .

"Stop it," Pete mumbled, "stop."

He couldn't think about Patrick like that. But Patrick was just too fucking gorgeous.

Where was Patrick? Pete snapped out of his fantasy and took another long look around the room. Who had drank all this? Certainly not Patrick, he was such a lightweight he could get tipsy from two beers.

Pete walked carefully doen the hallway. He paused outside each door, listening for sounds. He finally reached Patrick's. Someone was it there.

Pete peered around the doorway. All the lights were off. He found the hallway lightswitch and flipped it on, illuminating the room dimly with a second-hand glow.

"Patrick?" Pete asked quietly.

Patrick was sitting on the edge of his bed, a bottle in his hand and several more strewn across the carpet in front of him.

"What the fuck?" Pete said for the second time in five minutes.

"Pete!" Patrick finally took notice of him, I didn't know you were home!"

"Yeah, I just got back," Pete crossed the room but paused a few feet across Patrick's carpet. "Are you fucking drunk?"

"Maybe," Patrick smiled lopsidedly.

Pete shook his head and knelt down to pick up thd empty bottles from the floor. Luckily, these hadnt shattered. "How on earth did you drink all this, Pat? Youre gonna get alcohol poisoning."

"Pete!"

"Wha-" Pete turned to face Patrick and was instantly aware of his position. Kneeling in front of Patrick, in his dark bedroom- fuck fuck fuck. Stop fucking thinking, Pete scolded himself mentally.

To make matters worse, Patrick stuck his hand out and ruffled Pete's hair. "Your hair is sooo fluffy," Patrick giggled. Fucking giggled, Pete could not handle this. "Should stop straightening it. Looks good natural."

"To scared of the shit I'd get if I did." Pete mumbled. "Can I have that?"

Patrick looked confused.

"The bottle?"

"Oh!" Patrick looked at the bottle, seemingly just becoming aware of it, "yeah, sure!"

"Thanks." Pete took the bottle from Patrick. There were a few inches left. He downed them and then piled the bottle with the rest near the door.

Patrick was still sitting on the bed, his eyes glazed over slightly. "More." He whispered.

Pete paid his mumblings no mind. He walked to the bathroom and filled a glass of water. "Drink this," Pete handed the glass to Patrick.

Patrick obliged.

Pete sat down on Patrick's bed and watched him drink. God, it was hot in here. He could fuck Patrick. Right here. Patrick wouldnt remember anything, based on how much he had drank. Pete wanted him so bad it hurt. He could, he really could.

And he would be lying if he said he didnt consider it. But Patrick was drunk, pete couldn't take advantage of him, he just couldn't.

Patrick set the glass down and leaned against Pete's shoulder. He hummed lightly.

Oh, dear lord, Patrick was right there. He was leaning against Pete's shoulder and he was so close.

Had Pete always felt this way about patrick?

Patrick pulled away and Pete immediately longed for the younger man to lean on him again.

"Can I ask ya' a question?" Patrick asked.

"Sure." Pete could feel their fingers touching. God, he wanted those fingers everywhere, in his hair, on his face, his neck, his chest . . .

"Whats your favorite color?"

Pete stared at Patrick. That was not what he expected. "Blue." He said. Blue, like your eyes, he didn't add.

"Cool. I like orange." Patrick smiled. "Now you get to ask me a question!"

"Can I kiss you?" Pete blurted. He didnt wait for an answer, leaned in, and pressed his lips agsinst Patrick's.

There was one moment of bliss in which pete was completely lost in the moment, but suddenly everything slammed back into his mind. He didnt get an answer. Patrick was drunk. Patrick was straight. Patrick was kissing him back.

Every instinct pete had failed at once and he pushed patrick back onto the bed, still kissing him. Oh, this was quite possibly the best kiss pete had in two years. And it couldnt even be considered a real kiss.

But it was Patrick. Patrick Patrick Patrick.

Pete pulled away and gazed down at patrick in awe. The blue-eyed boy grinned at him. "Yeah," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah you can kiss me."

"Oh." Pete couldn't think. Patrick was right there and pete was doing all he could not to undress him on the spot. "You taste like whiskey."

Patrick shrugged.

Pete kissed him again, shifing to straddle him.

Patrick made a small noise and ran a hand through Pete's hair.

Any ounce of self control abandoned pete, he grasped at Patrick's shirt, his jeans, anything he could find. He kissed along Patrick's jaw and down his neck. And, oh God, the noises he was making. Pete couldn't stand it, he couldn't keep himself from this any longer, he couldn't

"WHAT THE HELL?" Someone shouted from the kitchen. Joe.

Pete pulled away so quickly he thought hed get whiplash. He hurriedly climbed off patrick and flattered his hair. He rushed out into the hallway, "We're okay! We're both okay!"

#the first part is somewhere idk go through the paranormal au tag #the paranormal au

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

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december 18 - chris motionless

title: die hard for the holidays

++++

prompt: Person A has secret feelings for person B. person B has secret feelings for person A. one of them suggests having dinner together for the holidays since neither of them will be spending time with their families and all their other friends are busy

request from: @svintsandghosts

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou

@xyours-eternallyx @joeynihil

++++

i looked over his newest Instagram post and sighed. god was i that desperate? simping over my best friend? of course i was, but we'd known each other long enough that i knew nothing would ever come of it. when my phone dinged it almost startled me, prompting me to look up at the new text notification. it was my mother. i sighed, opening it and reading it.

"dads sick, doctor says its viral so we wont be able to do Christmas this year. i hope you and your siblings can get together to do something else but if not that's okay. we both hope you have a blessed Christmas anyway and will be mailing gifts out in the next week. love you."

i hummed to myself before answering her.

"hope dad gets better soon and send him my best. i don't see any of them making plans to get together but i guess we'll see. ill mail gifts too if you're okay with that and hopefully ill see you in the new year. love you both."

i closed my phone and set it upside down on my chest, rubbing my hands over my face.

"so much for getting out of the house."

i said to myself. then my phone dinged again, making me roll my eyes in annoyance. to my surprise though it was a text from Chris.

"mom cancelled Christmas this year cause they won a cruise lol. you doing anything?"

i sat up abruptly and typed back.

"my dads sick so mine was cancelled too. when and where do you want me? lol"

i waited patiently for a second before seeing a new message.

"hope he gets better soon. but how about Christmas eve, dinner at my place?"

i nodded quickly to myself.

"ill be there."

---

when the day finally came i wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. we'd hung out millions of times but this was the first time we'd be together for Christmas alone. usually we all had a party with the band and other friends but that was pushed to new years. lets just say i was beyond nervous. plus he told me to dress nice, whatever that meant. no matter what it meant to him, here i was stood in front of my full body mirror, looking over the sparkling blue velvet dress i had on.

"this is too fancy."

i said, moving to my closet. as i started flipping through things i heard my phone buzz. it was Chris.

"you on your way?"

i looked to the time. shit, it was almost six.

"getting my shoes on now. ill be there in fifteen."

i replied. so much for changing. i grabbed a Christmas jumper and pajama pants just in case and shoved them in a bag, pulling my heels on and running out the door. the car ride was fairly quiet, apart from the light Christmas music playing through the radio and my complains about the snow. i wish i would've known it was supposed to snow but it was a little late for that i guess.

as i pulled into his apartment complex parking lot i could see his Christmas tree through the open window. it looked nice, covered in colorful lights and shiny ornaments. i got out of my car and walked quickly across the lot and up the stairs to the second floor, knocking on his door and shivering as the snow flew around me. when he opened the door he offered a wide smile.

"hey! how's it going?"

he asked as he pulled me in for a hug. i breathed in deeply, trying to warm up.

"I'm good, and you?"

i asked as he let me into his apartment. i still felt over dressed, even seeing him in his button down and tie, the two peaking out from under his sweater.

"oh ya know, same old same old. i hope you're hungry, cause dinners about ready."

he said excited and i laughed.

"you know me, never not hungry."

i said and he sent me a knowing look.

"how about you go sit, and ill bring it out."

he said, motioning to the made up table. i nodded.

"you sure you dont want help with anything?"

i asked and he shook his head.

"of course not, you get to be the guest this time, now go relax."

he instructed.

"okay, okay, im going."

i said as he pointed, a demanding look on his face.

---

after dinner we both worked on dishes and things before moving to the couch, the lights all out except the tree as he looked for a movie to watch.

"im glad we could get together for this."

he said, clicking the remote and i smiled.

"you and me both. i think this is the first year i would've been alone since moving out of my parents place."

he laughed a little bit.

"you and me both. even when im not home i still usually have the band to be with."

i nodded solemnly.

"speaking of which, how are they all doing? i feel like i haven't talked to any of them in a while."

i said and he shrugged.

"theyre as good as they always are, keeping busy thats for sure. but youll get to see them for new year."

he mentioned and i nodded.

"yeah i guess so."

it was quiet for a moment, and i looked over him, his focus still on the tv.

"got any suggestions?"

he asked and i hummed.

"uh, no, not really."

i said bashfully, catching his eye when he turned his head with a frown. i guess i wasnt exactly making it subtle that i was staring at him huh? oh well.

"how about die hard?"

he asked and i laughed.

"oh yeah, a christmas classic."

i said sarcastically as he clicked on it.

"you know it."

he said, setting the remote on the coffee table, settling back into the couch. i thought for a second before slipping my arm into his and resting my head on his shoulder.

"you cold?"

he asked and i nodded, looking up as he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and down over me.

"thanks."

i said, getting comfortable against him again. we sat like that for most of the movie, until i heard him yawn, then he moved to rest his head against mine. i smiled to myself, sliding my hand slowly into his as it rested against my knee. when the movie finally ended neither of us moved.

"ya know, it looks pretty bad out there, maybe you should stay."

he said, never once looking away from the tv. i could feel a small smile making its way to my lips as we sat there cuddled together on the couch.

"you sure? i wouldnt want to be an inconvenience."

i said, feeling his head lift off mine and prompting me to look at him. he squeezed my hand.

"you're never an inconvenience. and besides i wouldnt want you to get stuck in the snow or anything."

i smiled at him.

"i guess i cant argue with that logic, huh."

i confirmed and he nodded his head once.

"great, we can watch another movie then and then go to bed together."

he said, freezing for a second.

"i mean, uh, not together together. but, like, uh-"

he said, flustered, tripping over his words. i pressed a finger to his lips gently.

"its okay chris. i get what you mean."

i said and he sighed.

"fuck it, i did mean together."

he said, slipping his hand out of mine and bring it up to cup my face. he pushed forward and kissed me fervently. a thousand things rushed through my brain at once as i melted into his touch but at the moment none of them mattered. all that mattered was that he felt the same. when he pulled away i didnt open my eyes just yet, sitting there trying to engrave into my memory exactly what he felt and tasted like. when i opened my eyes he was staring down at me, his lips sucked in like he messed something up.

"wow."

i said softly, laughing a little bit.

"im sorry, i shouldn't have done that."

he said, looking down. i shook my head.

"like hell."

i said, making him look to me in shock. i grabbed his face and kissed him again, his hand moving to the back of my head as our mouths moved together. when we both pulled away for air we panted lightly, smiling at each other like idiots.

"it took ya long enough."

i said, making him laugh.

"merry christmas y/n."

he said, stroking my cheek lightly with his thumb and i could feel a blush rising to my face.

"merry christmas chris."

#25 days of christmas requests #chris motionless #x reader #miw #imagines #one shots

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tomdiddlyumptious · 4 years

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PP| House Of Disaters

Summary: you and peter do a lil sum sum and your dad catches you, causing something unexpected

Warning: smut in the beginning, probably terrible, language and flying couches.

A/n: i will still be continueing Pretty Colors, but with these pictures I couldn’t help it. This story is kinda like @spideyyeet go check out her tumblr!

“OH- oh shit! Peter don’t stop!” Your words night pitched as peter is under the covers, eating you like a fucking animal.

He moans onto you in return, so good you don’t know where to put your hands. “Fucking shit pe-Peter!” You let out a distant moan.

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your sweet pussy like this? Mmm” he swirls his tongue around your clit making you whimper and reach down for his hair, biting your lip and trying to buck your hips up.

“Ah ah. Take what you get” he remarks, wrapping his arms around your legs and shifting them down, licking a long strip of your wet womanhood, making you whine and tug.

“Peter please!” You whine, he chuckles and kissing your clit. “Don’t make fun of mee!” You whine again, pulling his hair making him grunt and run his tongue over your hole, slowly entering as you sigh. He raises the pad of his thumb and rubs your nub harshly, applying very tight circles. “Oh my god!” You let out a high pitched moan, trying your hardest to buck your hips up but it was no help.

He hums sending vibrations up you, causing your back to jolt. You scratch his scalp while he trails up, sucking on your clit and entering his fingers in your slit without warning. “Fuck!” You moan loudly, honestly not caring about who hears you. He rubs faster, you feel your body tighten as you desperately open your legs wider, itching for that release.

“Are you okay!” Steve busts in the door. Seeing your messed up hair and your mouth wide open with the print of your legs open under the covers, your eyes closed. “WHAT THE FUCK!” He lets out a high pitched scream, you wanting peter to stop, but of course he didn’t. He feels you are nearly at your release, and he’s not allowing it to pass, needing your release. “WHAT ARE YOU- STOP IT!” Steve yells again, looking at the body under the cover squirm a bit.

Peter shakes his head no, making you release on his mouth and chin, you yell peters name as he pulls away with a pop noise. “Sorry?” You say, more of a question, turning to your dad. Steve’s mouth agape in shock as peter comes up, wiping his mouth and giving a weak smile.

“Don’t you dare smile at me. I guess we are having sex Ed class now, please get dressed” Steve says weakly, he stance hunchaback as he walks out. “I can’t believe he put his mouth on my daughter” he mutters shaking his head, closing the door, just so Sam and Bucky can come in laughing, recording saying things like

“oh peter! You missed a spot”

“Oh no he didn’t, more like he hit the spot!”

You roll your eyes and throw your pillow at them, making them continue to giggle and walk out, also closing the door.

Peter chuckles and gives you a kiss “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop. You just taste so fucking good,”. You bite his lip pulling away, tasting yourself on his lips.

“I know but like that was my dad pete! We need to go before he busts the door down” you laugh, getting up and cleaning yourself before putting on a fresh pair of panties, and out on peters boxers for shorts.

Peter bites his bottom lip and puts his shirt back on, smacking your ass and walking behind you to an interview room, that you guys had for whatever reason. “You look really good in these” he whispers.

“Thanks, cocky Parker” you giggle, sitting down on the other side of your dad, peter joining.

“This is professional, how dare you wear those small things to this interview” Steve says, highly offended and Sam and Bucky walk in and set up the cameras, Sam making a snarky comment.

“He must have a real small penis” Bucky cackles while peters face flushes, Steve groaning “this is my daughter for heavens sakes!”

…

“Alright, do you know how offended I am peter? Did you atleast brush your teeth this morning before you put your mouth, possibly your teeth, on my daughters privacy?” Steve says, his hands a certain way and his face in all seriousness. “You understand that you might have a mouth disease and you put that on MY daughter, even your fingers! Do you masturbate?” He adds on, making peter choke.

“W-what?” He asks, barely above a whisper. Hiding his mouth with his hand. Your eyes widen as memories play, Steve noticing and he whines and slaps his hands on his lap.

“What the fuckkk!” He whines, looking at Peter in a pleading way. “No! I haven’t! I don’t do that!” Peter quickly says, raising his hands to stop him any further.

“And you! How could you let him do that? How long!” He asks, you look at Peter then at your dad and shrug. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Steve yells making Sam and Bucky cackle behind the cameras.

“Let the kids breathe, Capsicle” tony says, walking in throwing popcorn in his mouth. “How would you feel if she was your daughter?” Steve snarks back, making tony raise his hands up in defense. “But she isn’t so I’m chillin” he shrugs, sitting on the couch watching behind the scenes.

Your dad sighs and sits up straight, peters face a bit relaxed because Tony’s here. “Did you guys- ya know?” Steve asks, putting his index finger between is circled index finger and thumb on the other hand. You suck in a breath, trying your hardest not to burst into laughter.

“Woah woah woah! What’s goin on here!” Thor says, coming back from training and his eyes stuck on Steve’s hands. “It seems here that peter” Steve lays his hand infront of peter “and Y/n” he does the same “did something that’s unforgivable, plus they did it RIGHT IN MY FACEE!” He yells while turning to peter, who’s face gets flushed again.

“Oh, well that’s cool” he pokes out his lower lip, sitting right next to tony as he laughs and hands Thor some popcorn, that he gladly accepts.

“NO NO! NOT MY BABY GIRL! PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS A LIE!” Wanda says, running in. She could basically hear Steve’s thoughts. You furrow you’re eyebrows.

“I don’t even know what’s happening” you turn to look at the camera, flipping it off. Bucky reminds himself to blur it out later.

“What’s happening is peter BASICALLY ATE YOU OUT!” Steve exclaims, everyone cringing at his words. Tony throws popcorn at the back of peters head, slowly.

“Mr-mr. stark! Stop it!” Peter says, finally turning around and rubbing over the spot, his face scrunched while tony just throws another one, making you laugh.

“Good job young spider” Thor cheers him on, Wanda turns to him and shakes her head.

“NOT GOOD JOB! ARE YOU NUTS?!”

“NO! NO IM NOT!” Thor stands up, pointing at Wanda.

“WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Carol yells, coming in the room filled with some avengers, Bucky and Sam nod in agreement and swiftly change the camera to carol.

“IM SO SORRY, BUT THIS ONE RIGHT HERE JUST DID SOMETHING WITH MY DAUGHTER!” Steve exclaims, throwing both of his hands at peter making him flinch.

“WELL IF YOU DIDNT WALK IN THIS WOULDNT BE A PROBLEM-“

“EXCUSE MEEEE PARKER!” Steve cuts him off making peter jump back, holding his hands on both sides of his head.

“Thor is crazy, this whole thing is crazy, Peter. Your crazy” Wanda says, turning to him and pointing at him. They turn the cameras and giggle behind them.

“The boy needs his deeds! Let him breathe, he ate the girl out, he thinks she’s delicious-“

“OKAY SHUT UP!” Carol cuts him off, extremely disgusted by his word choice.

“MAYBE YOU NEED TOO, PESANT!” Thor screams, walking up to her and also pointing at her ferociously, saying some very fine asgardian words.

“Brother do you know what sleep is? Because I’m trying to do that” Loki says, walking in. Only to be ignored and Carol screaming at the top of her lungs, her face mad and angry as Wanda also joins, teaming up on thor. But he doesn’t give up without a fight. He continues to scream also, Clint running up and holding him back.

Suddenly nat comes in and walks up to you, Steve, and peter. She sits on your lap and takes your hands to put them around her waist. “What’s goin on?” She asks, yawning.

“Peter is a fucking douchebag” Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring the commotion infront of him while Sam and Bucky manage to steal the popcorn from tony, who’s to busy tying his shoe.

“Wait how?” Nat asks, turning to look at Peter who scoffs and hides his face in his hands. “Yeah, how peter? Say it!” Steve exclaims again, throwing his hands and waving them up and down stiffly.

“I-I” he stutters, fiddling with his fingers. “Oh quit the act, you weren’t doing that when you put your nasty breath on my daughter choo choo!” Steve says, nat makes a face as if she’s trying her hardest not to laugh, she turns to you in the same face making you chuckle and nod. “It’s true” you mutter.

Scott comes in with a book in his hand, sitting at a small table, trying to read. But of course, the debate if it’s okay to have hands on your stuff is still causing commotion. It got extra extreme when Thor hopped on one foot to take off the other, throwing it at Wanda. She gasps and furrows her eyebrows, turning to carol as they both nod in agreement.

“HOLY-“ Bucky yells when the couch gets lifted, making Tony fall on the floor as he groans and sits down criss-crossed. “SHIT! HOLY SHIT!” Sam finishes bucky’s comment, turning the camera back and forth, as Steve also starts yelling at peter.

Scott starts to have a pounding headache, “BE QUIET, I just want to read and I can’t even do that!” He yells, making everyone turn to him, his eyes watering as he rubs one of them, the book in the other. Everyone stitches their eyebrows in confusion, looking around and seeing the couch not in its place, you, nat, angry hot head Steve, and Peter sitting in a casual interview. Sam and bucky’s face full of popcorn, only hearing their chews and Thor’s heavy breathes, Clint still holding onto him as carol has her hands on her hips, Wanda having her hands on her knees and gasping for air, Loki sitting across from Scott and looking at him as if he’s disgusted, but mentally he is thanking him.

Peter gives off a face making you look at him and giggle silently, Tony now laying down and smirking at you both.

“So….. did she taste good?” Sam asks, turning the camera to Peter and you, breaking the silence. You look at the camera as if you're in The Office, blinking your eyes repeatedly and your lips in a tight line.

“Let’s go” Steve says, standing up and exiting, everyone else walking out until he stops Sam. “Not you” he puts a hand to his chest.

“D-don't do this to me man, it- I didn’t mean it” Sam stutters, his eyes suddenly getting red and watery.

“Nah man, it’s good,” Steve says, softly pushing him in the room and closing the door. Locking him from the outside he rests his hands on his hips, turning to you and peter “not again”.

Everyone else got to their normal thing, except Sam. He sat in the chair until he got an idea to take pictures, he set it up and took a few, trying to make himself happy. “Eh man I fucked up” he sighs and sets himself in the tall chair, but smiling as he re-looks at the pictures.

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captain-jinguji · 4 years

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Hai again! Could I request a yandere alphabet for Tokiya?

Boi i had way too much fun with this one 👀

TOKIYA ICHINOSE YANDERE ALPHABET

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

His way of showing love is by forcing his darling to be around him at all times. Whether that be at concerts, practices, gardening, taking a trip to the moon. His darling has to be there.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Will and has killed people. Don't try him. His flip is bigger than Cecil's and he's not known to be merciful at all. But if someone accuses him of something? They got no proof.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Mocking is an understatement. He cries with them, makes fun of them, and calls them out. Why are you crying? Do you want to be punished? He gets quite sadistic.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Anything lol. He would do anything against his darlings wishes, especially if it means that they are bound to him. So killing people, hunting things (the low-key family business IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW) both sexually and not, he feels no mercy.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He shows them enough for them to believe that he "loves" them. And he does, to a certain extent, at least feel some type of attraction otherwise they wouldnt be his darling in the first place.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He wouldn't take it lightly. They would need to be disciplined and put back in place. Very much a "master-slave" type of scenario. His darling needs to be obedient or his darling might experience some losses.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

At first it truly was a game and he almost begged his darling to escape so he can punish them, but he quickly realized how its much more than that and how he hates the thought of them attempting such bothersome things.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Tokiya was *this* close to cutting off their legs because they have attempted to run away one too many times. In the end, his darling had a broken foot and was bedbound for a week or so. Which he didn't mind, they couldn't fight back that way.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He doesnt have a clear plan for the future, surprisingly. All he knows is that he wants them in it and he will keep them in it by any means necessary.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He does get jealous but he actually copes with it quite well, ESPECIALLY once his darling is starting to crack; he knows they wont leave him in fear of being punished.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It depends on. Most times hes sweet, caring, almost relaxed, but sometimes he's wild, irrational, and temperamental. His darling just has to hope that neither they nor anyone else has done anything wrong, and that's a tough one.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Hes naturally very attractive and his mysterious aura tends to pull people in fairly easily. His darling was most likely attracted from what they saw on the outside and decided to hunt after him. Which resulted in him successfully catching them

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

No. Tokiya has always been stoic, quiet, reserved, and maybe even a bit dangerous. Of course, no one else knows the extremes he takes, but his personality doesn't do a whole 180° ya know?

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Torture, starvation, spanking, orgasm denial, you name it and he's probably done it. If it's something ~Simple~ he might opt for a spanking and some rough pounding, but if it's really bad, hes not a stranger to torture devices.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

All of them. They completely and utterly become depended on HIM, just like he wants it. If he could without raising any suspicion, he'd also get rid of their arms and legs.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He gets aggravated with them VERY easily. Unlike his outside persona, tokiya with his darling does NOT fool around.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You cant escape him so thats off the table. If they die, whether it be from his own hands or naturally, he would kind of become emotionless, the pain so great that he'd numb out completely.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Lol no. He picked his darling like a perfect rose in a garden and he does not feel guilty about cutting them off from anyone else.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

The need to control, definitely. He has a lot of pride and the feeling of perfection follows him everywhere he goes. Everything has a rightful place, and that includes his darling. Beneath him.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

If it's not his fault, he actually hates seeing his darling upset and tries to cheer them up in any way possible. If it is his fault, he mocks and toys with their feelings until they either give up or get angry at him, so he can punish them.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Hes pretty classic yandere plus some torture ya know.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He has no weakness. Hes alert about anyone and everything and knows everyones moves before they're even made. His darlings best shot at living a somewhat livable life is to follow his orders and just submit.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes and has done it before. Not a stranger to using force.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

His darling is perfect in his eye; there's no flaw on them, and he tells them so. Body worship, especially during intimate times, and compliments everywhere are his thing. His darling is beautiful and the soft stroke he leaves on their cheek while they cry into his shoulder makes it sound almost believable.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As long as it takes him to win their heart. He needs their feelings for him to be real so it'll be easier to manipulate them.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

A perfect darling is a submissive darling, so yes. Unless they're naturally submissive, he very much uses force and manipulation to get them submissive and as perfect as possible.

#uta no prince sama #uta no prince shining live #utapri starish stillnotsorry #quartet night #starish #utapri headcanons #utanoprincesama #ichinose tokiya #tokiya ichinose #utapri tokiya #yandere alphabet #yandere

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riseandshinelittleblossom · 5 years

Text

Go Mets!

A/N: This is my submission for the wonderful @mf-despair-queen‘s 2019 Dylan O’Brien Baseball Week. This is my first ever Dylan fic, as well as my first ever reader insert (ish) fic, so keep that in mind hahahaha I hope you enjoy it!

Also! DISCLAIMER: I write this purely for fun, I don’t get paid or anything like that, I’m just borrowing our favorite Mets fan for a bit of good natured fun...

Warnings: light swearing, because it wouldnt be a riseandshinelittleblossom fic without it. :D

Shout out to my wonderful friend @ao719 for indulging me and pre-reading this for me..girl your rock!

Tags: @leelee10898 @fullbeaumonty @kennaxval @superapplepie @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @stiles-o-dylan24 @ownworldresident @mrscutiefandobhaz

Dylan held out his arm, staggering backwards a bit as he caught the baseball in his well-worn mitt.

“Hey, nice one Maggie!” He chuckled.

The six year old across the yard beamed at him and he couldn't help but feel his heart melt seeing her snaggletooth grin.

He was so proud of how much she had progressed since he first started bringing her out back to play catch two years ago.

His friends had all warned him to steer clear of getting into a relationship with you because dating a single mother also meant “you have to play Dad,” but that had never worried him in the least. Maggie was a good kid, really smart, and she shared Dylan's passion for baseball and the Mets. These days he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his time off between filming than to be in the backyard helping her practice for her little league games.

She flipped her long, chocolate- colored plait over her shoulder and resumed her batting stance.

“Okay, Dyl. Let's have another one. And don't go easy on me this time.” She sassed.

“Go easy on you? I would never..” he feigned innocence, grasping the ball firmly and grinding into the mitt a few times.

Maggie rolled her eyes, the bat falling to her side.

“I'm serious, O'Brien. You think the girls on the Grizzlies are gonna go easy on me this weekend? Not a chance! They're out for blood after we wiped the floor with them last season.”

“Out for blood, huh? Okay, well pick up the bat and I promise I won't hold back then, Princess.”

She resumed her stance and Dylan shook his head.

“Here,” he began crossing the yard in a few strides to stand behind her. He widened her grip on the bat and helped her crouch a bit lower. “Gotta widen that stance, baby girl. Otherwise the first speed ball's gonna knock you right off of home plate.”

He returned to the makeshift pitcher's mound that he and Maggie had made with a pile of her kinetic sand. It was a project that you had been none too happy about.

He stomped his feet a few times before releasing a steady pitch.

With a loud crack, the young girl sent the ball sailing away from her. Dylan hit a backwards run in an attempt to catch it, but it soared over the fence anyway.

You watched from the open kitchen window as your boyfriend raced across the yard and hefted the small girl onto his shoulder.

“And the Mag-ster rounds first! She's off to second! Oh my God, she's flying past third! Aaaand she makes it all the way home!” He shouted as he ran a circle in the yard and Maggie cheered, her small fists pumping into the air as Dylan mimicked the sound of a crowd roaring. He placed the child on the ground and you couldn't help but chuckle.

You and Dylan had been going steady for two years now, but it always made you smile to watch him with Maggie. He was the best daddy to her that he never had to be and it made you love him even more.

You thought back to the day that he first entered you and Maggie's lives as you finished washing up the mountain of dishes in the sink.

***********”**

You adjusted the settings outside of the batting booth before crouching in front of your preschooler.

“You sure you want to do the batting cages? We could go for another round of skee ball instead.” You suggested as the little girl before you adjusted her baseball helmet and shook her head. The child-sized aluminum bat in her hand still looked humongous and you bit your lip, wondering why you'd agreed to let her go in there and let a machine lob baseballs at her.

“I wanna baseball! I'm tired of just tee ball! It's time to break into the big girl game, because one day I'm gonna play for the New York Mets.” She told you matter-of-factly as she stepped into the cage.

You blamed the babysitter. She was a sweet woman that kept Maggie for next to nothing and she had two boys of her own that were only a little older for your daughter to play with.

The sitter's oldest son, Jacob, was nine and he played little league, which meant he and his brother often tried to get Maggie to play catch with them outside. Jacob was Maggie's hero and a die-hard New York Mets fan. All the time she spent with Jacob had ignited a fire within your near five year old. It had started with endless tee ball games in the local junior league and now...batting cages at the family fun arena.

You wrung your hands nervously as the first pitch shot out. You'd set the machine on the lowest setting but it still felt like the ball was the Roadrunner, jetting away from Wile E. Coyote as it hurdled towards your small child. Certainly anyone watching must have thought you were insane to let her in there.

Maggie held her own, swinging confidently even though the ball barely glanced the end of her bat. The metallic ting caused her to giggle wildly.

“I hit it!” She shouted.

“Hey, good job!” a male voice came from behind.

You whipped your head to see a tall slender man wearing khaki pants and, coincidentally, a Mets jersey. Your eyes scanned over him, your bottom lip tucking itself involuntarily between your teeth.

He twisted his baseball cap, leaving the bill sticking out behind him and tucked his folded sunglasses into his shirt. He gave you a polite smile and nod, the fluorescent lights overhead catching his honey colored eyes just enough to make them sparkle.

Your heart all but stopped as you smiled back and quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed that he'd no doubt noticed you checking him out.

“Thank you. She lives for this stuff.” You said shyly.

TING

“I hit it again!” Maggie squealed in delight, turning to face you. “Who's he?”

She scrunched her face up as she stepped out of the cage.

“Oh I was just waiting my turn is all. I'm going to use the cage when you're finished. Nice form in there,though. If you'd like, maybe I could give you some pointers.” The man said.

“You would?!” She squawked.

You were taken aback by the way he peered directly into Maggie's eyes when he talked to her. Not many people were so attentive when they spoke, especially to children. It made your knees feel weak as he trained his eyes on you in the same fashion.

“I'm Dylan.” He offered, extending a hand.

************

Your attention was pulled back to the present as you heard Maggie's sassy, near whiny voice through the window.

“I am NOT a baby anymore, Dylan. I'm getting bigger everyday, you know.” She scoffed.

He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

You stepped onto your tiptoes to get a better view of the two loves of your life, straining to hear their conversation. They were seated on the patio now, Dylan helping Maggie oil her own glove as well as his own.

“Mommy says that if I want to keep playing I have to take good care of my equipment. She said only responsible players get into the big leagues, so I have been trying to oil my mitt like you showed me, but sometimes it's hard.” The girl huffed as her mentor lifted his large hands-the ones that plagued your every day dream- and placed them over hers, patiently guiding her movements.

“You want to make sure you get into every groove, Princess. Every crevice. See? You've got it. I'm so glad to hear you've been listening to Mom while I've out of town, though.”

You let out a sigh, a warm feeling spreading from your chest throughout your body, a small chuckle escaping you. How did you ever get lucky enough to find him?

“Dylan, can I ask you a question?” Maggie piped up.

“Anything, squirt. What's on your mind?”

“Why were you and Mommy yelling at each other last night?”

Dylan's eyes went wide as he turned his gaze to his own mitt.

“Wha..wuddaya mean? We weren't-”

“Come on, O'Brien. I'm not deaf. You were saying, ‘Oh, Y/N,’ and Mommy kept screaming 'Dylan, oh my God’. Were you guys fighting?”

You tried to stifle a laugh, your hand flying over you lips as you remembered the absolutely mind blowing events from the night before. The ones your daughter had apparently overheard. You could barely see your boyfriend's cheeks turning bright red right about now and you would have paid good damned money to get a view of that up close.

“Uh, no. We weren't...we weren't fighting, Princess.” Dylan tried to be vague and he cleared his throat. You knew he was silently hoping that his answer had been enough to end the conversation, but you also knew Maggie better than that.

“Oh. Well then what were you doing?”

Dylan turned to wipe off his hands, holding the towel out for Maggie to do the same.

“We were...we were talking in our sleep.”

“I heard banging, Dyl.”

The dark haired man gulped audibly, one hand rubbing over the days old stubble of his chin.

“Uh...that? Oh we were… okay listen. You know I love your Mommy, right Princess?”

Maggie nodded, “Yep! And she loves you.”

“That's right. So we love each other. Sometimes, uh...when a boy loves a girl...ya know...they...dance...together?”

You cackled softly listening to Dylan not even buying his own bullshit.

“Oh. But I can dance without banging, see?”

Maggie hopped from her seat and swept into a graceful ballerina twirl, her hands above her head.

“Well that's because you're a beautiful baseball-playing ballerina, and as such you're very graceful. Mommy and I...well, we're sort of clumsy.”

The child laughed. “So you mean you guys fall down a lot?”

“Exactly.”

“So that's why you were yelling right? You just kept knocking each other down?” the six year old cocked a skeptical eyebrow and Dylan nodded.

“You're gonna have to do better than that, Dyllie. I'm not buying it.”

Your boyfriend let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay how's this? We were dancing together because we love each other and we're clumsy so we kept falling down, but then he had...um bruises..?” He stopped short, clearly at a loss.

“The truth, please. I was born at night but not last night, ya know?” Maggie sassed with an eye roll.

“Okay the truth is... The truth is that I love your Mom and she loves me and sometimes when you love someone so much you just...you want to show them. There are things that you will learn about when you're older that help grown ups show each other how much they love their boyfriend or their girlfriend. And so..that's what we were doing. But those things are for grown ups only. I mean...grown ups that love each other and want to get married someday...not just any old boyfriend and girlfriend…”

Your heart stopped at the thought. You and Dylan had been together for a long time, but somehow you'd never talked about marriage before.

Maggie stared at him, one eyebrow cocked, her face scrunched in thought.

“Do you..? You understand anything I just said?” He asked nervously.

“Uuuuhhhh…..go Mets?” Maggie replied still obviously confused.

Dylan laughed loudly as he ruffled her hair. “That's my girl!”

“I don't even wanna know anymore,” she shook her head. “As long as you promise you and Mommy aren't breaking up.”

Dylan wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a tight hug.

“No way, Princess. You two aren't going to get rid of me that easily.”

“Hey, Mommy!” Maggie beamed as you appeared in the sliding glass doorway.

“Hey, kiddo. Why don't you take your gear upstairs for me? Dylan and I need to talk.”

She complied with your request, gathering her belongings and tossing them into her athletic bag before hefting it inside.

You grinned widely at Dylan as your daughter disappeared up the stairs. He exhaled audibly, silently mouthing “thank you,” as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

He ambled across the patio, wrapping his long arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

“I know you were listening, you evil woman. Way to leave me hanging.” Dylan muttered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. His whiskey eyes were locked on yours, making your knees suddenly feel weak.

“I dunno, you seemed to be handling things pretty well on your own.” You smugly replied.

“Yeah? You think so? I'd love to show you a few other things I can handle pretty well.” he pressed his lips to yours and you giggled into the caress.

“You mean like...Go Mets?”

He scoffed, giving you his near award-winning, lopsided smile.

“You're damn right, go Mets.”

#dylan o'brien #dylan obrien fan fic #dylan obrien one shot #go mets #dylan baseball week #baseball week 2019 #yeet

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zoraspetpetunias · 7 years

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“Afternoon Zora.” Called the frumpy man behind the deli counter as he bent around to offer a brown paper bag to a customer. The customer quickly ducked towards the door around the throng of people in the line. The large man wiped his hands on his rustic brown apron and lifts the bar counter, coming about towards Zora. He calls over his shoulder “hey morty, take over the counter for a spell.” As he approached smiling and happy to see her a turtle of a man slinks out of the door behind the counter and with the air of a flighty reptile, begins taking orders in a nasal alto.

“Figured it was about time for you to get back in town. How ya feelin kid.”

Zora rolled her eyes up at the man, still slouched into the booth with her legs crossed at the ankles and head thrown back over the seat. "Gio, can i bum 'ere? Jus make a nest or sum'in under the booth?" The man, Giovanni, sat down heavily opposite zora; squeezing his budgy yet muscled frame into the too small seat.

"Now kid, I know home isn't much fun these days, but it beats the hell out of a bakery booth." He tried to give joking smile.

Zora rolled her eyes at him. "is got biscuits tho, and pies, and tarts." She sighed, not making him waiver. "I know it does, im jus not that excited abou' all the fightin, ya know?"

He nods sagely, scratching the week old growth on his cheek. "Your ma is doin her best, it's not easy getting over stuff when you're older; us old farts get set in our ways and that kinda change is hard to get over, no matter how long it's been." Zora crosses her arms and shrugs, scouring the table with her simmering angst.

"I had to, why can't she?" She mutters to the table.

"Because, you're tougher than the average jane kid. By far. Your ma's always been on the gentle side. Even before you were born." Gio's tempered New York accent gets a bit thicker as a touch of sorrow enters his voice. He lifts a brown thin cardstock box from next to him on the seat, as if by magic. "I had your favorite ready." He slides it slowly across the table, thick fingers leaving flour fingerprints on the side of the crispy brown cardboard.

Zora took a long pause, rolling his words around in her head before deciding that she liked what he was selling, and looked up. "Thanks, fer..."

He shook his head fatherly, letting her know no explanation was necessary. "Rest, eat, let me know when you leave." He knocked a knuckle on the table top softly, as if to add a finality to the words; an gentle authority to it, and got up.

Zora watched him walk away. She always saw something in him, a kindness that reminded her of what her dad had been like. Charming, awkward, just a dash of command; the kind of flair in his manner that came from seeing the bad side of a war, and coming out the other side. They'd served together in the gulf, and on a break Her dad had convinced Gio to move to England afterwards. He'd visited, just before they went back, and her dad had named Gio Zora's unofficial godfather. Gio had mentioned several times that he wasn't Italian, he was a bit polish, but it had stuck.

That same stint, Zoras dad had gotten caught in crossfire pulling another soldier out of the field. She had visited at the service and had talked to Zora. The words were hard to recall, but that look of apologetic sorrow on the pretty woman's face, all scared from a gunshot, was an easy thing to recall in her mind; insidiously easy.

Eyes blinking back sudden tears, Zora wipes her face over with her sleeve and lifts the edge of the box's lid with her fingertip. Inside sat a plump cupcake, lemon with buttercream icing and bits of lemon sherbet sprinkled on top. A single piece of craft white chocolate sat atop the whole things, a sphere with a pair of wings extended behind it in flight. Gio had called that specialty cupcake 'Lemon Fireflies' but any wizard would know what it was.

She flipped the box open all the way, and dug in her oversized backpack for a patchwork diary and opened to a fresh page. 'Love is a Firefly on the wind' She began, before sampling the cupcake in tiny, measured bites and writing down her feelings for it.

Gio stopped by, set down a mug of thick hot chocolate that had purposefully been left to chill, and went back to work without saying a word; looking pleased with how things were going. The lines ebbed and flowed out of the door, fancy and delicious baked goods were made and left, and a steady handful of hours ticked by in the bakery. The door rang open, as it always did, but the room went quiet for a heartbeat; and that's when Zora began closing the box, saving the other half of the cupcake without looking around. She stowed her diary, pushed the heavy steamer trunk away from the edge of the booth, and climbed out.

Standing rigid and alert behind her was a slim man in a off-the-rack suit, black and simple. He nodded to her, "Mam." And took hold of one side of the steamer trunk and rolled it towards the door. Zora hastily glided to the counter, letting herself behind it and hugged Gio around one arm and left without saying a word.

Gio called after her "Be good to your ma." And she threw up a hand over her shoulder in response, following her families Gentleman out the door. She glanced back after the door swung closed, getting another look at him before she went into battle. She stepped off the curb in front of Kowalski Bakery, and toward the waiting automobile.

* * * * *

Outside, trunk loaded in the boot, Reggie held the door open for Zora to step into the car. She slung her bag into the back and stepped in, avoiding touching Reginald at all possible. He smartly closed the door and stepped round the car and got in, religiously checked his mirrors and seatbelt, and shifted gears. "Home Jeezes." She whispered, hoping he wouldnt catch the off-color joke. She idly pushed the cupcake box across the leather seat next to her as she impatiently awaited what was to come.

They left the city and drove for half an hour, ending up in a small village of stately homes, each on its own modest mile or so of land. The town was reclusive, almost occultishly so, and had always bothered Zora on some level. There simply were not enough people for her taste. The car pulled towards a circular drive made of flagstones that led to a three story home that many in the city would deem to hang the word 'mansion' on. As the car stopped before the white steps leading up to the large cedar doors of the mansion, Reggie got out and around to open her door, but Zora had immediately exited and went around to open the boot. He came over and used a key to unlock it, somehow pushing her out of the way without having touched her. "Shall I place this in the wash room to be gone through miss?"

"My room, as always Reginald." Zora clipped. Her voice had a new quality, a refined old family british lilt that was anathema (ann-ath-emma; contrary or polar opposite, to the point of violently so) to her voice at school. "I appreciate your work, but if you could refrain from handling my things 'for' me while I am here on break, I would appreciate it." He nodded, this routine had played out before but he never deviated from script; he was a cock like that. She tucked the cupcake box close to her chest, slung her bag on, and marched up the steps toward her mothers home.

The front door was opened in front of her by the Maid, Sarah, who Zora actually sort of liked. She serviced a few other houses in the area, unlike Reggie, and was only a handful of years older than Zora herself. She always found a piece of chocolate or two hidden behind the spoons when Sarah knew she was back home.

"How was boarding school miss?" Sarah asked as she shut the door behind Reggie who began trudging up the staircase towards the bedrooms.

"Board-ing" Mumbled Zora, before giving a thankful smile to the woman. "How has life here been?" Zora awkwardly adjusted her bag.

"A new family moved in last week, they've got a lazy son who likes to paint. So not too boring, if ya know what i mean." She gave her a wink.

Zora tried not to roll her eyes, though the impulse was strong. "Of course, I hope he's nice." Zora turned away before making more of an awkward conversation, stepping carefully through the once wide hallway; now packed with displays and dressers and shelves of collectibles.

There was something odd about the Abbott house, Her mother, Rhatamiwa, was a hoarder. Of their once extensive family, only Zora and Rhatamiwa were alive. All the worldly possessions of her various cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, grand aunts and uncles, and great grand parents were organized somewhat haphazardly and put for melancholy display about the endless house. Right next to the entrance, like a sentinel, was a display with a military coat folded neatly on top and a picture set above it. Zora absently ran her hand over the coat as she passed it, a ritual of hers for luck.

In the den she found her mother, drinking wine and reading over a large-print book. Around her were a few others, partially read, and a scrapbook turned to a random page. It was difficult to get to the couches that her mother favored in the middle of the room, and consequently her mother rarely left this room except to sleep or lounge on the lawn in the back on temperate days. "Mother." Zora cooed.

"Yes?" The nearly middle aged woman removed her thick glasses and slipped on another pair that dangled from a thin gold chain about her neck. Her thin, frail, but lithe form twisted towards Zora. "Zoralia Rosaline Petunia Turquis, come give your mother a hug." She got up slowly, almost dramatically, as Zora snaked around china cabinets and shelves of clothes. She tried to hug her mother tenderly but the woman still gave a small jolt of pain from the embrace. "Welcome home my little bird, I hope you kept up with your Bible reading while at that," she paused over the word, almost finding a way to not sound condescending, "school."

"Yes mother" Muttered Zora as she pulled away, glancing around the room for some means of escape. "I'm feeling a bit off from the train ride, I think I'll go upstairs."

"Of course dear, reggie will fetch you when supper is prepared." She sat back down airily, picking up her glasses and book. As Zora was almost gone she called after "And do your reading before bed, God knows when you don't."

* * * * *

That was the general mood of the entire christmas break, up until the day of. Solitude, false bible study, and sneaking down her roof outside her window to explore the woods on their land. A few creatures lived there that shouldn't. Zora would take as many opportunities as she dared to visit her transplanted pets, her odd little family of a streeler, a handful of spiteful knarls, some odd toads, and a snake that protected the woods from muggle poachers. Senya, Zoras friend snake, would slither up close to a muggle and then rapidly go right past them; too fast to catch or shoot, but enough that they ran for the safety outside the woods.

On christmas morning, having said three prayers already, Zora's mother handed her a present. "To keep you safe, I know it will get frightfully cold." She opened the unwrapped box (mother did not appreciate shiny, flashy wrapping for a few years now.) and inside was a slightly moth-eaten scarf of deep green material, soft and girly. "It was your great aunt Geraldine's. She wore it whenever she wanted to look fancy at winter, always matched her eyes. She will watch over you if you wear it." Zora refrained from any words other than. "Thank you mother." and set the box aside.

She handed a small, simply wrapped box to her mother. "It just pops open, no ripping." She made sure her mother knew that before getting obstinant about having to rip it open. She lifted the lid and inside, on a bed of satin, were a pair of half moon reading glasses much like her real glasses. She lifted them out and turned them side to side, admiring the rose gold frames. "This is lovely, just lovely." She unfolded them slowly and slid them on, turning to Zora to show her. "Oh." She said sharply and her hand drifted up to grab the glasses before she caught herself. She peered around the room, down at the books still littering the table and couch, and then back at Zora.

"It is a new type of lense, from the store mother. A new type of optical layer on the glass." Her mother looked at her sharply, a fit of anger behind her eyes.

"This didn't come from your school, little bird? You wouldn't lie to your mother." She said it not as a question, but as a warning.

"No mother, from the store. If you don't like them I can have Reggie take me to retur-"

"No that is fine dear, just fine." Her fit seemed to deflate and Zora exhaled, mentally tallying the days until break was over in her head. "They work wonderfully. Thank you." Zora relaxed, knowing that the enchanted lenses she had gotten work done on from a curly haired boy in gryffindor would greatly help her mothers eyes.

"May I go into town, to see Gio for christmas, mother?" Zora asked politely. She had a little gift for him as well, a miniature tree that grew candies from Diagon Alley.

Her mother made a show about looking about, thinking hard on the topic, as if it were somehow improper to ask. "I suppose, but be home before dark." Zora got up and left, hopeful for just a bit more actual enjoyment from her break before returning to school. With plant-in-box under one arm, and dressed in a more mother-approved sunday dress and low heels, Zora slipped into the car and left for the city.

The rest of the break swept by. Zora said goodbye to her woodland friends, and Sarah one last time before packing her trunk and departing for platform nine and three quarters.

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