#i am so tired of pretending i don’t if it wasn’t for spring it’d be my fav

[sunriseindigo]

❄️❄️❄️❄️

#dra #danganronpa another #fanganronpa #mikako kurokawa #danganronpa another despair academy #multimedia #watercolors #crayola markers #colored pencil #winter colors #wintercore #I FUKCIHG. LOVE WINTER #i am so tired of pretending i don’t if it wasn’t for spring it’d be my fav #i’m writings this outside!!!! and it’s snowing!!!!! tons of snowflakes on me!!!!!!!

[jiminrings]

I REQUEST A SOFT BADBOY DRABBLE WITH SHY READER AND HES TEASING HER BUT SOMEONE ELSE JOIMS IN AND THEYRE DOING IT TO BE MEAN BUT HES LIKE STFU BEFORE I PUMCH UR FACE ONLY IM ALLOWED TO BULLY SHY READER GRR 😡😡😡😡 and soft readers like 0.o but *squeals incoherently* 😭😭😭😭

last name, jeon.

drabble week: day two

drabble week masterlist

pairing: badboy!jungkook x shy!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "can't you tell that i really don't want you to be here?"

notes: a tiny change on the plot!! also: frat boy!jimin from day four makes an appearance :D

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“do you wanna form-“

... yes

you DO have an alliance with jungkook

it's a very fair trade honestly

he pretends to be your boyfriend!! there's no specific boundaries to it, but he springs into action as soon as you're put into an inconvenience

in exchange, you whore him out to your friends!!! :D

no but literally that's how he called it

the whole reason this came to be in the first place is because you hATE confrontation with a burning passion

especially when it comes to those "i have a crush on you" moments that people spring on you all of a sudden

you don't like them back!!! that's the truth!!! but the problem is that you aLWAYS feel guilty letting people down

you obviously don't have the obligation to like someone back just because you sit next to them in class :// IT'S JUST IN YOUR NATURE TO FEEL THAT WAY

you wouldn't get into a relationship with said confessor to ease your guilt, clearly

do you plan on denying their advances? yes

but hOW????

you always take the passive-aggressive approach

you get jungkook to carry your bag and hold your hand, walk in front of said person and pretend not to see them, jungkook makes sURE to put some snide eye contact in there aaaaand the whole ordeal is finished :D

you've managed to let someone down slowly without having to speak to them in-person!!!

jungkook comes more handy than that too

you take him when you want to eat out because you're too anxious to eat alone

you take him when you want to go somewhere in which lining up is essential and you're also too anxious to stand by yourself

you take him when you want to go shopping when there's a sale but you're almost always intimidated by the barrage of people and salespeople so he asks and answers the questions for you

jungkook, in hindsight, is the perfect fake boyfriend for you <3

ALSO jungkook wants something from you

"whore me out to the girls from the families your family's friends with, and it's a deal :D"

that alliance and exchange is going pretty well so far

you mAY be on the more-reserved side but that doesn't mean you're self-aware!!!

you know that your parents are loaded and your shy nature could be somehow chalked to that since you didn't really have anyone that wasn't as non-superficial as you'd like, since they were the overprotective helicopter two-rotor seven-blade parents :(((

jungkook, however, is the only constant you have in your formula

you've known him since childhood and have been friends ever since

his mom's your mom's personal assistant, and one day when mrs. jeon couldn't find a babysitter for jungkook, your mom didn't hesitate to let four-year old jungkook come with her to work

jungkook's your fIRST actual friend that hates gold spoons with you because of how tacky they look :-) he's your emotional support person basically

your emotional support person who was sO close to running late from picking you up during his free day >:( you were about to break into a sprint if he arrived a second later, because you managed to spot a jock coming to you from the corner of your eye awhile ago

You Do Not Like Him <3

"and i even changed into a short-sleeved shirt to ward off your suitors. how romantic of me, don't you think?"

now that he mentions it, it's only now when you can drink him in in full-display

... wow

his right arm's the only one with his tattoos while his left's completely blank, but something about the balance just makes you !!!!!!!! even more

his arm's not completely covered but it was coming to be, something about the blank spaces of skin that are yet to be inked being a nice touch

"very romantic, kook."

now tHAT'S the answer he wanted to hear

he forcibly on your helmet for you to showcase, your grunts of annoyance being drowned out by whistling

(he's even looking left and right and making eye contact with anyone who has their eyes landing on you!!!!)

your cheeks smushed is a look he'll never be tired being in awe of, but he'll never tell you that, of course

"do you ever wonder if your parents would kill me if i misplace even a single hair on you?" jungkook thinks out loud and you don't even flinch with how sudden his thoughts could be, sitting on his seat first so it'd already be balanced when you do, "you sure you’re okay riding with me?? on a motorcycle????"

he usually uses yOUR family's vehicles (they let him and insisted he just takes one at this point) but when you called him, he was en route to kim kradle (it's a one-stop vehicle shop apparently) to get new rims for his motorcycle, bUT NOT ANYMORE HE GUESSES????

you come first compared to the booking he's waited on for three weeks

"i have insurance, i think."

no that's the wrong answer

why did you even bother.,,.,

jungkook flicks your nose because your forehead's protected by the helmet, his face contorted in half faux frustration

"you were supposed to be mad at me for asking that — not logical!! don't even joke about that."

"... my life insurance? like, in the instance that i-"

oW THAT HURT

he flicked even harder this time!!!

you roll your eyes at him and it doesn't go unnoticed, a hand outstretching instead of his fingers flexing

“wallet, please.”

????

jungkook's surprised that you even look confused, this time rolling his eyes at you

“you rolled your eyes at me. you need to bribe me so i won’t rat you out.”

right

he has a never-ending knack for the you're rich jokes

you also know that he likes the cold and would turn the fan on even if it's too hot for a blanket, just because he wants to feel cocooned

you also know that he picks from the fourth row of drinks from the front because it's always been a habit

("the germs cling on to the first row!!!")

you also know that maybe, just maybe, you can't stand it tonight when he's putting himself out there instead of being your faux boyfriend

you keep on zoning out and hoseok, perhaps the only tolerable fellow rich kid you can tolerate within your circle, finally connects the dots in his head and snickers

he's been talking about finding the vintage sneakers he's always wanted on depop and how he almost got scammed for like tWENTY minutes already

in reality, all your nods and scowls aren't towards his story

it's to jungkook and... who's that? jihye whose dad is so colossally shitty, that this one rapper wrote a diss song for him? oh yeah, that jihye

"you like him. like actually 'lose your virginity to him' love him."

WHAT???

there's no way

"how did you-"

"you blush like one."

alright that answer was too quick

hoseok should've ATLEAST tried to wait for a few seconds before answering

"a-and the love part?"

"babe, jungkook may not be the richest one here and that should say a lot," you peer up at him nervously and he actually chuckles, peering to everyone at this function, "dude's humble — he could also just be dense to not see you love him."

okay very true

hobi's making a dig rn at how jungkook coinicidentaally happens to be blonde and maybe this is your cue to leave

hobi does not realize that his hair is aLSO dyed blonde while talking shit about jungkook and his hari

okay this is it

once again, you are NOT listening to hoseok and he's figured out what you're doing by now

you're psyching yourself up with a couple of shots and your heels are digging on the carpeted ballroom

MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY TO BE MORE OUTGOING!!

"pretend to wobble. it doesn't help that nothing can sink you."

oh okay makes sense

if you're gonna try and charm jungkook while trying to play it off as just being tipsy playfulness, atleast make it believable

hoseok snickers because this is just A+ content with the things that you choose to do in your way

shy girl with high alcohol tolerance mannn coming of age film writers would LOVE you ://

you're about to cross the distance between you and jungkook, but something knocks you on your shoulder with a gentle force that seemed intentional

is that-

hold on a second

"what a coincidence :O"

jimin?

jimin???

as in, wholesome yet slightly fuckboy-ish frat guy jimin???

he looks dashing and composed, meeting your eyes perfectly and he doesn't let your confusion startle him

"i know that look. what am i doing here?"

he says it eloquently as if he's practiced it

AND HE DID!!!

you must've looked so shocked that you immediately apologized, shaking your head no

"i-i didn’t mean-..."

you're confused, sure, but that doesn't mean you're immediately judging

it's just that you never saw jimin here or any function of the like, but you wouldn't put it past him if he does go to these things!!! he looks like a million dollars anyways

"relax, doll. you’re so far the only other person i know that i've seen in these type of things."

he looks calm and collected, but maybe that's just because he spent the last five minutes waiting for you to stand so he could bump into you

this place is just sO suffocating and a familiar face is gonna be his relief from something so fancy that it became mundane

"have we been in the same event before this?"

"not that i recall, no. i get invited but this is only the first time after awhile that i went."

jimin drinks from his champagne flute, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, "wanna know why i'm here?"

you're curious!!! what can you say!!!!

you never really interacted with jimin at all before this, but a familiar face like his is comforting

because hoseok's already engaged in another conversation and jungkook's,,,, being jungkook and is fawning all over jihye

jimin chuckles at your insistent nodding, leaning closer to whisper to your ear

"my stepdad’s loaded as fuck."

oh so that's why

he tugs you down to sit at the nearest possible empty chairs, all its occupants gone anyways because they're in the dancefloor busting tRULY horrendous moves

maybe it's because jimin feels lonely too like you are, and it's him feeling comfortable because he's pulled you like ten seconds ago and not once asked him anything out of bounds

maybe that's why he fell into conversation with you easily because you're always intently listening

"might love me as a real son too. maybe that’s a bonus? you don’t really expect that shit in the things you see."

this situation is actually pretty cute

you snort because maybe you’re nOT that shy when you drink,, that’s the only thing that changes in you probably

this whole conversation that sprung from boredom was unknowingly the subject of many stares, including jungkook who you were initially supposed to go to

“you’re worthy of love, jimin.”

:O

jimin sPITS his drink because where the fuck did THAT come from???

why did you say that and why does he feel that he needed to hear that

“i-i think — i think you need more,” he raises his own glass to your lips hurriedly, caught in surprise but you still gulp nonetheless

“you’re-“ you keep sputtering as he keeps making you drink, but he rubs circles on your back at the same time and it's when you realize that jimin the frat guy may not be that bad, “what??? don’t think you’re not the only one with daddy issues! shouldn’t we have like, a radar for each other?”

jimin snorts at your counter and his eyes crinkle to the point where he can't see anything, not being able to see how you're still trying to recover with all that fizz down your throat

wow ur really enjoyable to talk to

“you’re insane and i think-“

listen

you're not really big on feeling beyond a sense and all that stuff, but you feel as if the aura around you just got dark all of a sudden

"who are you calling insane?"

jungkook appears at your side in an instant, hands wrapped around your shoulders while you remain seated

you've honestly forgotten that you were supposed to go to jungkook, but you're reminded of that vERY clearly now

"go away, jimin," he mutters through his teeth, looking at him dead in the eye

hold on

wait

THAT'S JIMIN???

okay now he's confused

sometimes jungkook's mouth just moves on its own without loading the thought process

"why are YOU here?"

jimin furrows his brows, shocked that he'd even see jungkook here out of all people

the guy barely even attends classes!!! and that's coming from him!!

"why’s he here?"

he crouches to your ear, eyes still furrowed at the younger guy

"long story."

nO???

jungkook scowls bitterly because jesus fuck

YOU’RE ON WHISPERING TERMS NOW????

he left for one second, and the moment he comes back, that's when this fucking frat guy approaches you?? was he waiting on him to leave??

you and jungkook only act as a couple when the need arises, and even if you don't feel it, hE feels that this is the need!!! this is the need and it is arising!!!

"get back to uh, alpha bravo charlie or something, park. beat it."

why’s he reciting the nato phonetic alphabet???

jungkook sounds half-angry and half-sad at the same time, and you don't know which side should you focus on

“move,” he repeats this time again but more sternly, making jimin much more confused since jungkook's trying to pull him away from his seat

jimin doesn't budge and it makes the frown even more evident in jungkook's face

what is he FEELING

“can’t you tell that i really don’t want you to be here?”

“i’m not here for you, though. i’m here for y/n.”

he answers honestly, shis gut telling him that there's definitely something going on between the two of you

“y/n doesn’t want you here," kook argues back surely, only noticing your bitten lips now that makes him realize that you're not exactly sober; just a happy kind of rush

he sees you raise your hand timidly, an equally cheeky smile on your face that's only directed to jungkook like it's meant for him

"i-i actually don’t mind."

you don't,,,

you don't mind?

HOW'S THAT POSSIBLE

WHAT ARE YOU DOING

why aren't you signaling him to commence the faux boyfriend act!!

"y/n has a boyfriend."

“... i’m not hitting on her.”

alright this is more than the entertainment that jimin wished for lol

“yeah, well she has a boyfriend still so beat it.”

you do??

the last time you checked, jihye's gonna have jungkook as her boyfriend within the night!!

“i don-“

ALRIGHT THEN

jimin decides to indulge jungkook, knocking his knee with yours as he winks slyly, urging you silently to watch on, turning to look at you and ask

“what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

you don't answer.

that gives him all the more reason to do so.

“last name, jeon.”

jungkook looks the most determined you've ever seen him, eyes characteristically angry with his arms across his chest that his suit tightens, “first name, me.”

....

......

the three of you know that’s not the truth

jimin takes it in, sighing when he sense that something else is about to be unfold and he does noT want to be a part of it

not before whispering to your ear again for the last time, of course

“pretty weird name if you ask me,” you laugh automatically, momentarily forgetting that jungkook's standing by you on just your opposite side and could hear you

he leaves and that only leaves you with jungkook, looking up at him as he's too frantic to even sit

“what are you doing?”

“being a social butterfly," you quip just as fast, drinking your water afterwards

jungkook only clenches his jaw by then, being taken-aback when you speak again

“who are you doing?”

://

“i’m busy being mad at- wait a minute, WHO???”

who instead of what??

the short-lived enthusiasm you had with jimin left with him, crashing just as hard when you're reminded of jungkook's presence

“jihye’s a pretty nice girl. you should go home early tonight.”

his brows furrow, trying to get you to look at him but you avoid his gaze insistently, “what? what are you talking about?”

“she’s not my girlfriend though.”

you're not at all satisfied with the answer because it sounds so wrong, knowing that jungkook's a handsome guy and everyone wants to be with him!!!

and he probably wants to be with everyone else besides you.

“then who-...”

“don’t know yourself anymore? jimin must’ve really swept you off your feet, huh?”

jungkook huffs as he qualifies for a rebutt, your internal wallowing being cut short

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

...

....

“well would you look at that,” jungkook snickers, sighing through his nose as your eyes finally meet his, directly stubborn yet soft around the edges

“she’s not my girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend. what a coincidence.”

god did he feel so threatened the moment his eyes couldn't find you besides hobi and instead next to jimin, eyes crinkled in laughter without hesitation

have you been chasing after one another this whole time?

jungkook silently grabs you by the hand and you wave no opposition to it

maybe it's your liquor-influenced vision or maybe it's you hyperfixating on such a warm moment, but your eyes immediately lock to see the matching red thread bracelet he wore like yours

you're dressed in next year's spring collection line, and the structured silk black gown that has a train behind it doesn't exactly scream to have a simple red thread bracelet as its accessory according to your mom's designer and everyone else —

but you don't have the heart to take it off

there's no need to take it off

jungkook drives your car and no one says a single thing about anything

his hand’s on your thigh and you don’t question it, eyes locking into the way his hand looks perfect and the way the bracelet looks meant to be wrapped in his wrist in the first place

you're sure this time that it's not the newfound courage you have, but rather the need to do it

you kiss jungkook's cheek on a red light.

it's on a red light that jungkook realizes he could fit the visage of his world within one hand, finally kissing you like he's always wanted to

“yeah. what a coincidence.”

#drabble week #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook headcanons #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook oneshots

[hearts-hunger]

early morning lover || dave york x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Summary: He’s your early-morning lover, and he wants to give you another baby.

Pairings: Dave York x Wife!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff | Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, talk of pregnancy

A/N: This one's for my sweet nonnie who sent a very soft ask about baby-making sex with Dave. Nonnie, thank you so much for your patience - I hope you like this fic! ♡ (Also, in my little fantasy world, we're pretending Dave isn't a scary assassin. He's just a soft suburban dad who loves his wife and kids ♡)

It was barely light outside when the alarm on Dave's phone went off. You felt him roll over to turn if off; a moment later, his face was nuzzled against your neck as he pulled you against his chest.

“Morning,” he mumbled. 

You gave a sleepy groan. “I don’t wanna get up.”

He laughed softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I know, honey.”

He placated a bit of your grumpiness with his gentle kisses, his big hands roaming over your body as both of you woke up. Even though you both got up at the same time - him for work, and you to get the girls ready for school - he had always been more of a morning person than you were, and often spent the first few minutes of the day cajoling you out of bed.

“Do you ever wish I’d just spring up out of bed like you do?” you asked.

He chuckled and pulled you closer. “No, because then I wouldn’t get my morning cuddles.”

You smiled. “You do like your morning cuddles, don’t you?” Dave’s love language was physical touch, and from sunup to sundown, he could be counted on showing you how much he loved you. It was something you loved about him, and you especially liked how affectionate he was first thing in the morning, like he was giving you as much love as he could before he left for work.

Despite your best intentions, though, this morning routine frequently found Dave easing into the day while you eased into a few more minutes of sleep. He was just so warm, and you were so cosy cuddled up against him, and surely it wouldn't hurt to sleep a little longer...

“You’re falling back asleep, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone affectionate and much more awake than you felt.

You huffed and buried your face against his chest. “No.”

“It’s ok if you are, honey,” he said sweetly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “But I think I know a nice way to wake you up.”

You considered that. “A shower?” you asked. That was one of his tricks, inviting you into the shower with him to help you wake up, and it usually worked.

“No,” he said. “But we can take a shower afterwards if you want.”

You frowned. “After what?”

“After this.”

Untangling himself from you, he ducked under the covers and tugged off your pajama shorts and underwear, leaving you in nothing but his well-loved Dallas Cowboys t-shirt.

“Dave!” you squeaked, already feeling yourself respond to his warmth.

He peeked out from under the covers at you, an impish smile on his face. “Do you think this’ll work?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help an exasperated smile. “Well, if you’re already down there, you might as well give it a try.”

He grinned. “Atta girl.”

He worked his way over your thighs and skilfully eased into your heat, kissing everywhere, sloppy and sweet and hungry for you. Dave was nothing if not enthusiastic in his lovemaking, and his tongue quickly had you pulling at the sheets, squirming under the heady flood of stimulation.

“I’m already - oh fuck - Dave - ”

You were fleetingly concerned about being too loud and waking the girls, but damn if your husband wasn’t determined to make you cum before you could even register it happening. You didn’t really have time to be loud, so quickly did he bring you to the edge; you let out a sharp gasp of pleasure as he groaned against your heat, cumming on his tongue as he drew your orgasm out as long as he could.

“Jesus,” you managed as you came down.

“Uh-uh,” Dave said, giving your thighs a few last kisses. “Just me.”

You breathed a laugh as he wiped the back of his hand on his mouth and laid on top of you, his head and chest resting on your tummy. 

“That ok?” he said. “I know it was a little fast.”

“You’re apologizing for being good at eating me out?”

He laughed. “No, I - ” He shook his head. “I won’t apologize, if you liked it. It just occurred to me that it was a little too fast, maybe.”

Compared to how he usually went down on you, it had been fast - most of the time he liked to draw it out, teasing and torturously slow, leaving you absolutely spent afterwards. But you would have been worn out before the day even started if he’d done that, and his fast pace this time had done the trick.

“No, I liked it,” you assured him.

“So you feel good and woken up now?” he asked, raising his head to give you a cheeky smile.

“Yes, thank you,” you said, combing your fingers through his hair. “I’m downright bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

He chuckled and laid his head back down, kneading his fingers into the soft parts of you that you often didn’t like, reminding you how much he loved them.

“Hey, honey?”

Your fingers trailed down to the nape of his neck. “What’s up?”

You felt him take a deep breath.

“I think... we should have another baby.”

Your fingers stilled. “You... you do?”

He pushed himself up until he hovered over you, leaning down to give you a kiss before he met your eyes. His face was warm and gentle with sincerity as he studied your face, and you couldn’t help a bashful smile.

He smiled too. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I like it when you look at me like that.”

He hummed in agreement, pressing soft kisses to your jaw, your cheeks, your nose. “I love you.”

You let your hands drift over his shoulders, his neck. “I love you too.”

“I think we should have another baby,” he said again.

You smiled. “So you said.” 

You thought of what it had been like to find out you were pregnant with Alice. Dave had been so excited and proud; you wouldn’t have been surprised to know everyone in the CIA knew Dave York was a dad-to-be. He’d been the same way with Molly, fairly glowing with happiness at the news.

Everyone knew Dave loved being a dad, especially his daughters. He was goofy and gentle with them, firm when he needed to be; he helped coach their soccer teams and came home after long days at the office to help them with their school projects. He always said the worst part of his job was leaving the three of you, his best girls; he called home every night he was away and took all of you in a bear hug as soon as he was back.

You pictured Dave with another baby in his arms, being chased around the house by three giggling little ones, telling everyone in the office of another baby York - maybe David Jr., this time. You smiled.

“Why the sudden baby fever?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just..." He gave a soft laugh. "I love having kids with you. I love you, and I love our girls. I can't believe how lucky I am to be their dad and to be your husband."

You ran your thumb over his mouth. “Dave.”

“I know, I know. Since when is your husband so sentimental?”

You smiled. “That's not what I was going to say. I think it’s sweet.”

He kissed your fingers. “I think you’re sweet.”

You softened as he worked his way over your fingers, kissing the tip of each one.

“Dave?”

“Hm?”

You drew him down to kiss you. “I think we should have another baby too.”

You could feel his smile as he kissed you deeply, his hips lightly pressing against yours, nothing between you but his boxers. You were already warm from his earlier lovemaking, and you felt your body ease back into that languid, comfortable desire you felt every time he took you to bed.

“What if we start trying right now?” he said against your jaw.

You glanced at his phone on the nightstand. “Do we have time?”

“Plenty of time,” he said, not turning his attention from you.

His kisses were heady, and you felt your legs widen to draw him closer as you pushed his boxers down. Every part of Dave was as familiar as it was lovely to you now, after ten years of marriage, but you would never tire of the feel of him, broad and warm and safe against your body.

He eased into you slowly, taking his time, kissing your face and murmuring words of praise. It always surprised you, a little, when he kept your lovemaking slow without having to be asked - he usually liked it a bit rougher, a bit faster. You liked it when he had his way with you, but you loved it when he was gentle with you, and both of you took turns indulging each other’s tastes and enjoying what the other liked.

“Let me give you another baby, Mrs. York,” he said tenderly, hovering over you, kissing your face. “You do make mighty pretty ones.”

You tilted your head back as he moved in you, gasping softly, basking in the feel of him. He kissed your throat and gave a soft groan.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” he asked.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. “Maybe a boy. It’d be nice to have a boy, wouldn’t it? I bet he’d look just like his daddy.”

He smiled. “Yeah, it would be nice to have a boy. But I hope he’d have your eyes.”

He dipped his head and kissed your collarbone, leaving love marks across your skin.

“Fuck,” you gasped. You knew you needed to be quiet, but you couldn’t help it - you bit your lip and gave a desperate moan as he angled himself deeper.

“Dave,” you keened.

His whole face lit up in delight and surprise. He moved his hand over your mouth even as he laughed.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he said gently, adoringly. “You’ll wake the girls.”

You gave a choked sigh against his hand as he rolled his hips; he moved his hand down to your breast and kissed you deeply.

“I love you so much,” he said. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”

He took his time with you, letting your pleasure be the focus of everything he did. He cooed soft love words to you, gently reminding you to try and stay quiet, delighted when you weren’t able to. He told you he loved you when you came for him, your fingers gripping him tight enough to leave bruises as you drew him close. His sigh was choked with pleasure as he came deep inside you, kissing all over you, praising you for how lovely you were.

You curled up next to him afterwards, wanting his warmth; he propped himself on his arm next to you, tangling your legs together, tracing his thumb over the hem of your shirt where it had bunched up under your breasts.

“You look pretty in my old shirts, Mrs. York,” he said. He kissed you tenderly. “You think we made a baby?”

You smiled and ran your hand over his bicep. “Maybe. But we could always keep trying, just to be safe.”

He chuckled and kissed your jaw. “Yeah. Just to be safe.” 

He kissed you for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed, and you felt his body shift against yours as he made to get up.

“No, don’t go,” you said, pulling him close. “Just stay in bed with me all day.”

“What if it’s a national emergency?” he teased.

You brushed your fingers over his cheekbone. “What’s a national emergency compared to your wife?”

You felt his smile under your hand as you saw it brighten his face.

“Can’t argue with that,” he said. You drew him down to kiss you again; you didn’t know how long you would have kept him if his phone hadn’t buzzed again.

“Maybe it is a national emergency,” you conceded. “You should probably answer it.”

“Probably,” he agreed. He gave you a quick kiss before he turned to reach for his phone. “You want to get the shower started while I see what’s going on?”

You untangled yourself from the sheets and his warmth, already missing them as you took off your shirt and put your pajamas in the laundry. You blushed under the affectionate way he watched you even as he answered the phone, his tone all business like it was every time he answered a work call.

The sound of his voice drifted across your bedroom, but the conversation was lost to you as you turned on the shower and stepped in when it was warm enough. You didn’t have to wait long for Dave; he joined you after a few minutes, wasting no time soaping up and getting ready for the day.

“Was it a national emergency?” you asked.

He smiled. “No, but I do need to get going. Apparently there’s a bunch of high-schoolers coming in for a shadowing program, and I’m supposed to be in charge of them.”

You couldn’t imagine anyone better suited to the job - most of the people Dave worked with would have nothing but disdain for a group of nervous high-schoolers, but Dave would be kind and friendly and get them where they needed to go.

“Well, in that case, you better get a move on,” you said. Your morning shower together was usually a more leisurely affair, but you kept your hands to yourself - a valiant effort, considering how much you wanted to kiss every inch of him - and let him get cleaned up. He was out of the shower before you’d started on your hair, and he was nearly dressed when you got out.

“You look very handsome,” you told him, watching the way he straightened his tie in the vanity mirror.

He smiled. “Thanks.” He turned and kissed you, a brisk, passionate goodbye.

“Sorry I can’t help you get the girls together,” he said.

“That’s ok,” you said. You patted his chest. “Go wrangle some high schoolers. The girls and I will be right here when you get back.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, affection warming his expression.

You smiled. “What?”

He smiled back. “Nothing. I’m just glad we’re having another baby, that’s all. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him goodbye, already thinking about how much you’d like to try for a baby again when he got back home.

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekcryptid​​​​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​​​, @stardust-galaxies​​​​, @theorganasolo​​​​, @qhbr2013​​​​, @willowtheewisp​​​​​, @lori-tovar​ ♡

please send me an ask if you'd like to be added! ♡

#ok i wasn't thinking i liked this but actually i do #it's pretty cute #let me know what you think! #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fluff #dave york smut #equalizer 2 #maddie writes stuff!

[problems-turn-fics]

It’s been a while so here’s a bit of an AU that I might some day flesh out. AU: Caleb killed Simcoe in season 1, but Ben took the blame. When Ben was awaiting execution Caleb broke him out of holding and they rode north to hide from the military and live in a little cabin they built. [Rated G | Word: 1434]

The blankets themselves were cold and made him shiver. He was already wearing his long underwear but it was freezing so far away from the fire. There was a reason he and Ben had spent the whole night just a foot away from the fire, Ben reading by the light while Caleb tried to knit just to keep the blood in his fingers moving. Eventually, they’d run out of excuses to stay awake so they’d stoked the fire, set up the grate, and had gone to bed.

Their cabin wasn’t big. Just one room, with a small kitchen on one end and two narrow beds on the other, with a table in between. Somehow it managed to be enough.

It’d been getting colder but it was their first winter in their new home and Caleb hadn’t known just how harsh a cold snap here could be. He didn’t know how long he laid still in his bed, legs curled up to his chest and hands between his thighs when he heard Ben speak.

“Caleb. Are you still awake?”

Caleb just grunted, afraid that if he opened his mouth Ben would hear his teeth chatter.

“Come here. My bed is closer to the fire. We can share blankets,” Ben whispered, ever practical as if the idea of sharing a bed didn’t make Caleb’s heart skip a beat.

Caleb didn’t have it in him to argue. He wrapped his blankets around himself and got up to walk the three steps to Ben’s bed. Ben scooted back against the wall and Caleb bit the inside of his cheek when the cold hit him fresh as he spread the blankets out over Ben’s. But then he was under the covers and there was just a little bit of warmth. Ben’s bed was closer to the fire and with another person under the blankets Caleb was almost warm enough to actually sleep.

Though he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to relax even if he did get warm. He hadn’t shared a bed with Ben in years, certainly not since he’d realized exactly how he felt about the man. It made his heart beat hard and he forced himself to lay along the edge of the bed to give Ben enough room and make sure he gave off no hint of just how badly he wanted to wrap his body around Ben’s. Or have Ben wrap his body around Caleb. He wasn’t picky.

There was a slight shifting next to him and then a hand on his waist, pulling him back. “You’re too close to the edge. I don't want you to fall off and take all the blankets with you.”

Caleb sighed and moved back, pulling Ben’s arm so it was wrapped around him. “Only if you move away from that damn wall. Wood’s probably just a block of ice at this point.”

Ben grumbled but moved to meet him in the middle, Ben’s chest pressed to Caleb’s back, and their legs bent and fitted perfectly together. Caleb let go of Ben’s hand, expecting Ben to take it back, as he scooted just a bit to give him more room. Ben tightened his hold on Caleb so he couldn't go anywhere.

“You said you’d stay away from the edge if I came away from the wall. Stay put, Brewster,” Ben grumbled, rubbing his frozen nose against the back of Caleb’s neck. He must have been more tired than Caleb thought.

“If you wanted to cuddle me all you had to do was ask, Tallboy,” Caleb said, pretending that there wasn’t a knot in his stomach and a rock in his throat.

Ben’s arm tightened. “Good to know."

*** Caleb’s face was freezing, but the rest of him was warm and cozy. He snapped alert suddenly when he remembered why he was so warm. Ben was still wrapped around him, his hand pressed to Caleb’s chest like he was afraid Caleb would run away with the warmth even in his sleep.

Caleb rolled over enough to look over his shoulder to see Ben’s face twisted and frowning. A soft warmth blossomed in his chest at the sight. Sometimes Ben looked peaceful in his sleep and it was beautiful, but more often than not he was frowning like he was arguing in his dreams.

He looked up at the window and saw light streaming in and he guessed it was early morning still. The fire had died overnight and he sighed, knowing that he needed to get up and relight it sooner rather than later.

He started to slip out of bed but Ben’s arm tightened around him. “I gotta light the fire,” Caleb said, patting Ben’s arm and for a moment allowing him to imagine that this is what their life was really like. Like he always woke wrapped up in Ben’s arms and Ben always held him back when he had to get up, like Ben actually wanted to stay in bed with Caleb all day.

Ben opened his eyes slowly and took back his arm, curling up as Caleb got out of bed. “Fine.”

“Oh thanks for the permission to freeze my balls off,” Caleb grumbled as he went to the fireplace. He was able to get it lit quickly though and redressed, pulling on a wool hat he’d knit for himself a few weeks before.

“Thank you,” Ben said.

“Call it payment for sharin’ your bed,” Caleb said with a laugh.

“It was a real hardship for me,” Ben said with a barely-there grin.

That night Caleb was the one to admit defeat to his exhaustion first. Ben frowned but agreed, no doubt upset at the idea of leaving his cozy spot in front of the fire. He was the one to build up the fire again for the night while Caleb checked the door was latched and glanced out the window just to make sure that they were as alone as they thought they were. He went to take his blankets that hadn’t been moved off of Ben’s bed when Ben snapped at him. “Don’t you dare.”

“There are easier ways to kill me than making me freeze to death,” Caleb said, only half turning to look at Ben glaring at him in the sweater Caleb had stolen off of a rich estate’s clothesline last spring on their way north. Ben hadn’t approved but his principles hadn’t kept him warm so when the weather took a turn Ben had worn it with minimal grumbling. Caleb thought he looked good in it, though he was biased.

“You won’t freeze to death because we’re going to share again tonight,” Ben said like they were still in the army and he was giving an order, not that Caleb had listened to his orders too often anyway. Some amount of Caleb’s amusement must have shown on his face because Ben’s whole body shifted and he seemed to shrink a little. “Unless you don’t want to then take them, by all means.”

“No. It’s smart to share the bed,” Caleb said. He couldn’t place what emotion flashed across Ben’s face but it scared him into correcting himself. “At least until spring.”

Ben nodded once and Caleb couldn't take the look in his eyes anymore so he turned back to the bed. “I’ll sleep closer to the wall tonight so you can be closer to the fire.” Caleb crawled in and put himself as close to the wall as he could without touching it, though he could feel the cold radiating off of it. A few minutes later Ben joined him and Caleb had to keep his eyes closed because watching Ben climb into bed with him might have made his heart explode.

“There’s room,” Ben said, and Caleb took it as the invitation it was. He wrapped his arm around Ben’s middle and moved until they were pressed together, back to chest, cursing himself. Ben clearly thought they were just two friends trying to get through winter. He didn’t know the way it was driving Caleb mad. He didn’t know the way Caleb was cherishing this moment to live in forever. He probably didn’t want this to happen at all, and wouldn’t be allowing it if it were so damn cold.

Caleb was broken out of his thoughts when Ben pressed himself back into Caleb’s chest firmly. “Why are you so much warmer than me?”

Caleb laughed then grabbed one of Ben’s hands, warming the tips of his fingers against Caleb’s palm. Ben melted into him again. “Just be grateful.”

“I am.”

Caleb was really starting to like the winter.

Taglist: @ladytp-annex

#tallster #i dont think ive posted this before #but im only about 80% positive on that #so if this is a repeat i fixed some typos so youre welcome

[sadachmesarthim]

towers for your honeycomb chapter 3: no i do not condone underage drinking i just think it's a good plot devic-

content: the boys have One Beer Each™, peter both sets and completely ignores his own boundaries, author remembers the communion chapter from "how to read literature like a professor" and bastardizes it, both of them have anxiety but neither say anything about it, smoking

words: 2k     song: outskirts of paradise - bad suns     

Looking Tony in the eye was like staring at the sun. Peter could barely hold his gaze, always finding an excuse to turn away.

He was sat in front of the other man a few weeks later, sharing drinks and pizza at a new brewery down the road. It’d cost him his liquor license, and potentially a clean record, if anyone found out, but Richie (their most beloved regular) offered to let the pair try the latest house brew if they ever swung through.

Peter wasn’t one for beer, but he’d accepted Tony’s invite anyway.

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Since their fight, they’d worked all of maybe three hours together. No other shifts, they avoided each other at meetings, and neither were particularly willing to reach out off the clock and apologize.

It was like the world was screaming at them to stay away from each other.

Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to listen.

After his shift that morning, Peter found Tony outside, leaning up against the hood of his car & working through his second cigarette. He drummed on the side of his thigh, keeping his empty hand busy as he waited for Peter to come out. Tony jumped at the sight of him, tossing the half finished cig down a storm drain.

“You know those lead straight to the ocean, right?” There was more amusement than anger behind his words. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was up to, but he was too tired to start shit. He crossed to the passenger side of his car, tossing his belongings to the floor.

“Even if it didn’t go through the city’s filtration system – fuck the fish.” Peter rolled his eyes. Funny as he was, Tony always had to be contradictory.

“Don’t you have, like, a school of them on your shoulder?” Tony’s normally visible salmon tattoos were safely tucked away behind a denim jacket Peter’d never seen before.

“Irrelevant.” Peter rounded the hood and turned, facing the other man. “Did you need something or were you just here to argue about my town’s plumbing system?” He huffed the words out, arms crossing in front of his chest expectantly.

“I, uh…” He suddenly went silent. The ground crunched under Tony’s feet, gravel scraping asphalt under his shoes. They were a rattier pair he owned – more tape than sole, oil staining the canvas.

“I wanted to know if you’d come to lunch with me. Today. Like, right now?” He hesitated at the last few words, like he wasn’t sure he could say them out loud. “I, uh. I’m pretty sure I have some things to say to you, and Richie’s got some good stuff waiting for us at the Pub House…”

Peter was astounded. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Tony?” My Tony? What? “I- why should I trust you? I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”

Tony’s face fell. A bit of- what, disappointment? flew across his face. Peter would’ve missed it had he not been staring, impatient for his answer. Tony, floundering at the rejection, couldn’t give him one.

“Okay, maybe- how about this. I’ll think about it. Give me five minutes to go wash up and I’ll be back.” He turned & headed inside, not waiting for a response.

The cool water felt good against his burning, salt-stained cheeks. Peter hadn’t realized just how tired he was – opens had always taken it out of him, and the early spring temperatures didn’t always prevent the stand from turning into a heater during rush hour.

The soap in the stand was always too fragrant for his taste, but it did the job – it felt good to wash away the day’s work and come back looking like a new man. He smoothed his eyebrows down and dried himself off, wetting his hair a bit as he finished.

He wound up with grind in it again, brushing it out with a comb he found in the first aid kit. One of these days he was going to have to start wearing hats to work. Shampooing his hair every single day was taking its toll on his curls, and he wasn’t a fan of burnt coffee smell.

Stepping back, he squinted into the warped mirror in front of him. Much better.

Back outside, Tony’d lit up his third cigarette of the day. The shakes’d largely abandoned him, allowing his anxiety to drift inward. The sticks only did so much – he missed the higher, stronger hit of his Suorin, but he was trying to quit (ironically enough).

He was actually able to finish this one by the time Peter made his way back outside, looking significantly better without $5 worth of product on his face.

“Okay, some rules.” He came up, stopping just short of Tony. “You’re paying for both of us. We leave whenever I want, without complaint. We go straight there and come straight back - it’s eight blocks, I don’t want any bullshit scenic routes.” His tone was firm – something Tony’d never encountered with him before. 

“Yes. Yes, anything. Okay.” 

Tony’s car was a lot nicer than Peter anticipated. He’d recently sold his truck, swapping it for a silver Mini Cooper instead. It was a pretty little thing, just up his alley.

It was also fucking obnoxious. He’d bought it with a modified exhaust and had plans to make it even louder. You could almost always hear him coming, little pop pop pops audible for quite a ways. 

It was… less clean than Peter expected. Tony was always so well put together, so well-maintained - seeing stray gum wrappers and drink cups littered around the interior was almost jarring. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tony spoke up. 

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Peter nodded. He silently took in his new surroundings, nerves on fire. He’d never done well around strangers, in new places. His mind’d always screamed at him, danger unsafe bad run, overriding his sensibilities.

“Hey, are you good? I can take you back if you need.” They’d barely left the Outback parking lot. 

“No- no, I think I’ll be okay. Just… not where I thought I’d end up when I woke up today, y’know?” Peter tried to laugh it off, but he’d always been pretty transparent. 

Tony turned a corner, cutting back into the lot they just came from and turning the car off. “Seriously, Peter. If you don’t want to come to lunch with me just say so. I’ll take you back to your car and we can pretend it never happened.” Okay, seriously, who the fuck is this guy and what did he do with Tony?

“No, I- I think I’m okay. Seriously. Let’s just go and get it over with - I kinda want to hear you grovel anyway.” He settled further into his seat, failing to shake away the agitation. 

The flatbread was actually really good. It was more of a hipster take on pizza - white sauce and pearl onions definitely making it stand out - but it wasn’t a bad lunch by any means. 

The beer definitely wasn’t Peter’s favorite. He was barely sipping by, trying hard to keep a straight face as he swallowed. Damn Richie anyway. 

It’d started off awkward enough - discussing where to sit, small talk about their week, the weather. It felt more like a bad first date than an apology, but- 

“I really am sorry. For what happened in the fridge.” 

Oh. 

“Okay. Why?” Peter tightened the hand around his glass, bracing for Tony’s next words. 

“I.. I was kind of an asshole when I was younger, too. I figured I could make a fresh start here with a brand new town of people that didn’t know or assume anything about me.

“I was doing okay for a little while, too, but I don’t know man I just.. something happened and I just- I don’t know why I’m a dick to you. But I’m trying not to be. This is that, like, ‘first step’, I guess?” Peter nodded along, attentive. 

"So, I don't know. I'm sorry for being a dick to you at work. I'm sorry for being a dick to the girls. I shouldn't yell at you or drag your family into this bullshit - I'm sorry, Peter."

There it was again, that name. His first fucking name. 

“I- thank you, Tony. It’s a start, and I certainly haven’t forgiven you, but… thank you. Seriously.” Tony sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Peter let go of his glass and wiped it off, standing and walking around to Tony’s side of the table. 

“Okay then, time for a do-over! Hi, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 19 and I’ve worked at Outback North Espresso for a little over 9 months. What’s your name?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for Tony to make the next move.  

Tony laughed, pushing his chair back and standing to meet the other teen. “Okay, uh, I’m Tony Stark, I’m 18, and I’ve worked at Outback for almost 6. Nice to re-meet you, Peter.” He shook Peter’s hand, awestruck at just how soft it was. He quickly steeled his face and sat back down, releasing Peter and allowing him to do the same. 

Once he was sat back down at his side, Peter looked up, confused. “Wait, you’re still 18?” 

Tony laughed. “Not for long. My birthday’s at the end of next month.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m older than you!” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s - it’s literally three months, that barely counts.” 

Their debate lasted well into the afternoon, alongside several other discussions. Peter’s childhood in Richland, and what it was like growing up there. What Federal Way was like, and why Tony left. Peter could tell he was remaining intentionally vague, but didn’t push it. 

Their beers were warm and the pizza was long gone by the time they abandoned their table. Tony guided him out the back, hand high on his arm. 

Once they were back in the car, Peter’s anxiety returned. It was like he’d spent the last few hours speaking to a completely different person, and now that he was sitting mere inches from Tony… 

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He wasn’t… sure, exactly. What it was. 

Tony spoke up when he noticed the tension in his passenger seat. 

“Hey, we’ll get you back to your car soon, I promise. Eight blocks, remember?” His right hand made its way to Peter’s knee, digging soft circles into the denim. Just like in the fridge.

“Please don’t- don’t touch me. Without asking.” It came out harsher than intended. 

“Okay, all good. No worries. We’re like, two minutes away.” Tony eased off the clutch, turning right out of the parking lot and onto the road. The windows rolled down and Peter let his head fall back in relief. Fresh air always helped him clear his head. 

It really was a short drive - right turn, left turn, right turn - and they were back at Peter’s car. The doors unlocked, and he was out in an instant. A bit too fast to be respectful, if he was being honest, but he knew he needed out. Tony stopped him before he was able to get in his car. 

“Hey, for real. Thank you for today. I’m sorry if it was too much.” 

Peter looked over and down to meet his eyes. “I- yeah, of course. No, yeah, thank you. For the apology. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. But no this- it was good. Yeah. Thank you, Tony.” 

He turned, unlocking the door and closing it before either could say anything else. After turning the key he sped off, without throwing even a glance behind him. 

Tony watched as Peter peeled away, reaching for the box of Pall Malls in his cupholder. He lit one, shifting into first and heading in the opposite direction. 

Not bad. Not good, but not bad. 

lmk if u want on or off the tags list!

@snowstark @kaleidoscopeluli @parkerrbitch @carelessannie​ @bluestarker​ @longlivestarker​ 

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #.mine #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider #coffee shop au #.text #.fic

[vampiresuns]

This Is How We Say Goodbye (Song To The Open Road) | Asra x Milenko

☽ THIS IS HOW WE SAY GOODBYE (SONG TO THE OPEN ROAD) ☽

1.9k words. Written for Asra Week, day 6: Promise. In which the Plague ravages Vesuvia, there’s an argument and Asra and Milenko part ways.

You can catch up with Milasra’s pre-game canon, ‘Like Thirst Holds Water’, here.

When Anatole and Milenko got involved, Asra and Amparo were already fighting. 

Their relationship had always been peculiar. More than friends, they were sometimes mirrors, matchstick and friction, cause and reaction. While Milenko was the one Asra had fallen in love with, and Anatole the one who he rode and died for, Amparo tended to spring Asra into motion. Both of them did things in almost identical ways — Asra’s sun sign was Amparo’s moon sign, her rising sign, his moon. As such, they gave the idea of instant compenetration, of unspoken frequencies vibrating in the same way. 

Amparo, the animancer, the actress, the dancer, the impersonator imbued in Asra something the others could not quite describe. That was Amparo’s charm, after all, that pizzaz that made her no one other than La Cassano. 

In that way, they shouldn’t have been surprised they would butt heads this way. They shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing could deescalate the fight either. Everyone was tired, everyone was grieving. The City was ridden with the Plague, there were no answers and no solutions offered, and for the first time in the almost 20 years Lucio had ruled the inevitable had happened: the Council of Vesuvia wasn’t enough, and now it was too late for them to remove Lucio from power by declaring him unfit to rule. The mechanisms would not work, the tissue of the Court was almost entirely destroyed, and the people were ill and needed food, clean water and doctors.

Their families had decided to all ride this out together in the Palazzo, with the proper health regulations that they could adopt. The building could house them all without problem but more importantly, it would mean they would be together. Many things were said about them, like how nothing mortal could kill them, based on an old, old story of how the Consul’s office had become theirs. It was no less true that the Radošević-Cassano did not survive alone. 

So they grouped, they went back home, and with their location inside the walls of the infamous Palazzo Cassano, they took in their closest friends. Their families had begun as friends, marrying between each other was recent, and only a kink of some very specific sets of family members. To them, family wasn’t blood, family was a choice. 

They had asked Asra to move in with them, and with that, to relocate Muriel, no one had to know he was in the Palazzo with them, specially not the Count. Asra, however, wanted to leave, and he wanted to convince Amparo, Anatole and Milenko to go with him, so they all would take their stuff and go, and abandon Vesuvia — a City that had never done anything for any of them. There was no point in dying in it, let alone for it. 

Naturally, the proposal turned into an argument. Amparo especially would not leave her mother and parent, Amparo would not leave Anzano, their grandparent, as she knew they would not leave Vesuvia. Anzano was old, very old, but still fit for travel; however, they had once been the High Priest of the Sun and had trained the new one, just like their spouse Atilia Cassano, had been the High Priest of the Moon. They wouldn’t leave a City they felt a sense of responsibility towards, and Amparo herself would not desert her family when they needed her.

Milenko had a similar idea. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave when he could help, he couldn’t leave when his mothers would not go, when his grandfather would not go, when his cousins would not go. Unlike Amparo he had no will to argue with Asra, instead, with the help of Anatole they tried to calm it down, so Asra could see where they were coming from, and they could try and answer Asra’s concerns.

It didn’t work. Everyone was strung, stressed and grieving, so it was a matter of time before one of them said the wrong thing, at the wrong time, with whoever the comment had been directed at not wanting to be understanding about it. It was a matter of time before they were all arguing in the ground floor of the Moonstone and Jasmine, all of Asra’s things packed up as he said he was not staying to die in a City like Vesuvia and how anyone with half a mind would do the same. 

Milenko saw the point of no return happen in slow motion: Asra’s words collided with nothing other than the behemoth that was the Cassano’s sense of pride. Whatever they had begun, it could not be stopped now. 

A lot of accusations flew around. Amparo tried to tell Asra that he couldn’t just expect her to leave the City she had always lived in, the City that she hoped to die in at old age. Asra told her what did she know about losing homes, she who had been born in the Heart District with a silver spoon on her mouth, who had never had to struggle because she always had a roof above her head. Funnily enough, Amparo’s patience ran out when he told her that she couldn’t even cook for herself. 

“Do whatever you want. I’m not leaving. If that’s all you think of me, then forget we were ever friends Asra.” 

She disappeared into the upstairs of the shop, into its main living quarters. 

“Asra, that’s not fair,” Milenko said. His tone was critical, but he still tried to stay as calm as possible. Maybe if Asra could see that he really would be safe—

Then Anatole spoke, his anger raw, yet cold and precise, like a well practiced fencing blow: “What the fuck is wrong with you. If we were a bunch of superior assholes who did everything for our own benefit—”

Asra snapped. “No, but you sure think you’ll save Vesuvia from Lucio just from existing, as if anyone in this city would ever care if you lived or died, Anatole. That’s what you do, don’t you? Pretend like you can fix his mistakes while everyone else suffers from them.”

The silence that fell between the three of them was abrupt, soon ringing in their ears, but when Asra tried to apologise, noticing he had said the wrong thing, it was too late. 

Anatole looked like he had been slapped.

“Toly?” Milenko asked, moving closer to his cousin to squeeze his shoulder, wanting to make sure he was okay. Asra’s words had hit one of Anatole’s greatest fears: that no matter how hard he tried, it’d never be enough. 

Before he could reach Anatole, his cousin’s face changed. As his features shifted with anger, Anatole spoke again. 

Now he was truly and really angry. “You meant that.” 

The issue with words was you couldn’t take them back once you said them. All you could do is hope the other person would forgive you and understand if you had misspoken. As Milenko was once again caught between Asra and Anatole arguing, he realised this was one thing Anatole might never forgive. He doubted it was his place to say, yet Milenko didn’t know if he could even advocate for Anatole forgiving Asra’s words, with time.

The issue wasn’t about who was right or wrong. There was no right or wrong, there was no miraculous answer in this unsalvageable situation. It was that Asra had meant it. Part of Anatole’s language magic was this: he was able to read feelings and intentions in spoken words. As a language manipulator, he could tell everything which people (intentionally or otherwise) imbued into words when they spoke, even if he couldn’t tell the why or the how. 

Would he be able to carry on if he could feel that after years of showing honesty and vulnerability because you want the other person to know you, this was what they thought at their worst? 

The argument didn’t last much longer. Anatole, not wanting to speak, went upstairs to check on Amparo, while Milenko and Asra stood alone on the ground floor of the shop. 

The magician began taking his things, preparing himself to leave for real. Milenko followed him, standing outside of the backdoor as he looked at Asra adjusting his travelling coat. Amparo has gotten it for him. It was handmade, Amparo’s gift to Asra two birthdays ago. 

“Aren’t you going to say farewell?” 

Asra startled, not expecting Milenko standing there. “I thought there was nothing else to say.” 

Once again they stood in silence. It felt like forever, even if it was probably just a couple of seconds. They were aware of every moment they lost to silence, looking at each other under the Vesuvian sunset. They felt far away, miles away. 

It hurt to realise, more than Milenko was willing to admit, but Anatole had been right: he still remembered when they were arguing about Asra not asking for help about Muriel. They could be as open as they wanted with Asra, but Asra would never step in time with them, even if he wanted to. 

Who better than Milenko to know this, and to know that sometimes, it was through no fault of his own. 

Asra spoke first. “You think I’m making the wrong choice.” 

Milenko pressed his lips together. “I don’t think there’s a right choice. There’s just the best we can do with the options we’re given.” 

“You don’t think I could do better with mine?”

“I don’t know, beloved, could you?” 

“Don’t— don’t call me that.” 

“I’m sorry. Force of habit.” 

“I forgive you,” Asra said, shifting his weight between his feet. He wanted to say something else, yet he said nothing. 

“Asra. I’m not judging you. I already told you I am no one to judge.” 

“How can you say that to me at a time like this?” 

“What? It’s the truth. I don’t like that you’re leaving and I would never make the choices you are making, and I could give you a piece of my mind and point fingers at you. I am angry, I’m hurt, but nothing I accuse you of will make me feel better. Judging you will not make me feel better, so I won’t. I’ve never done.” 

“Sometimes,” Asra said, dislodging his travel bag from his shoulder, “sometimes I wish you did. It would make leaving easier.” 

To Milenko’s surprise, Asra crossed the distance between them. Milenko didn’t stop his hand from cupping Asra’s cheek. Asra leaned against it, even if he wished he hadn’t. Asra closed his eyes, tears coming through his closed eyelids.

“You know I won’t ask you to stay,” Milenko said, getting teary himself. 

“Just like I know I won’t get you to leave.” 

“Just promise me you’ll think about it, Asra. Promise me that at the very least, you’ll try to take good care of yourself.” 

Asra opened his eyes, his vision blurred because of the tears. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, letting Faust slither into his arm to stretch herself all the way to say goodbye to Milenko.

Her tongue flicked against his nose, making Asra smile. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself too, please.”

Milenko nodded, Asra saying his farewells before turning around and walking away as fast as he could without breaking into a run. Milenko watched him go, until Ursula, his familiar, nudged him inside. 

“May Allah keep you safe, Habibi,” he said to the empty street before closing the door behind him. 

#the arcana #asraweek2021 #the arcana oc #milenko #asra alnazar #asra #milasra #like thirst holds water #amparo cassano #aelius anatole #my writing

[jelly-drabble]

Loverman

Synopsis:  You're Fred's current object of affection, despite the family he has at home. You should probably be more careful, people do a lot of talking in small towns. (Pre-burn Freddy, if that wasn't obvious) Warnings: NSFW; choking; verbal degradation; rough sex Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844280

To call Fred a desperate man wouldn’t be totally fair. Once in a while he could show some kind of restraint and not show up to your house. Plus, to your knowledge, his wife still had no idea he was spending most nights in your bed. His cover story was weak as hell, but you believe what you want to believe when you love someone.

While he’s usually smart enough to slink around to your back door when he stops by, but when you don’t immediately answer the door for him his caution goes right out the window. This night, in particular, was going to be the line in the sand. It needed to stop. Within five minutes of being ignored, he’s pounding on your door. He isn’t yelling, yet.

“Y/N,” he hisses, you can hear it fairly clearly meaning he’s pressed up against the doorframe, “I know you’re up, open the door.”

You contemplate whether or not you should even respond. Surely he’d take the hint, or tire himself out. Another ten minutes pass and now it sounds like he’s going to break the damn door down. 

“Go home, Fred,” you tell him, still behind the locked door.

He doesn’t shoot back immediately, but you can tell he’s seething. When his fist hits the door again, you jump.

“Y/N!”

It’s loud. It’s way too fucking loud. You have neighbors. Neighbors who know the both of you. Neighbors who know Loretta, and probably see her on a regular basis. The panic cancels out your impulse control, and you fling the door open. Fred practically falls face-first into the house. You close the door behind him just as quickly.

“What the fuck was that? Are you insane?”

As if he doesn’t hear you, he makes himself at home, dropping his coat on your couch and kicking his boots off near the door. Next stop is your fridge.

“My next door neighbor has fucking book club with Loretta. Her daughter babysits Katherine. You’re fucking showing up at my back door at 3 AM, screaming my name and pounding on the door?”

“Oh relax, no one heard anything.”

“How the fuck could you possibly know that?”

He gives you a supposedly knowing look as he chugs the single can of beer he’d managed to scrounge up from the back of your fridge. It’d been left from him a few visits previous to this one. The question is ignored beyond that.

“This all you got?”

“You know I don’t drink that shit.”

He tosses the can in the trash before he makes his way back to you, stopping only when there’s a few inches of space left between the two of you.

“Guess we’ll have to do somethin’ else to pass the time then.”

“We can’t keep doing this. Especially not when you’re openly throwing tantrums on my stoop.”

“Aw c’mon, you know I’m just eager to see ya,” he reaches up to cup your face, closing another inch or two.

As sweet as you’d like to pretend he’s being, you know what he’s really after. Not that he wasn’t pretty clear about it. Being a side piece sort of added to the fantasy but… having to face the family you were threatening didn’t. Guilt and fear of getting caught had been eating at you after the first night he’d convinced you to hook up.

“Fred…”

He cuts you off, pressing his lips firmly against yours. His free hand snaked around the small of your back, and the hand that had been cupping your cheek was now grasping at your hair. Of course he didn’t care. If he did, he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. You want so badly to stay complicit in this. Not because you want to hurt Loretta, or Katherine for god’s sake. But there was something so magnetic about Freddy. 

When he pulls back to breathe, you’ve all but melted. As if he’d just sucked all your inhibitions right out of you. For a moment he stared into your eyes, before a wicked grin cracked across his smug face. You were yanked back to reality as he led you toward the bedroom by your wrist.

“Wait! I’m serious! Your wife is gonna find out-”

You hadn’t even made it to the bedroom yet, you found yourself pinned to the wall suddenly, his body pressed to yours. He leaned close to whisper in your ear, his knee pressed firmly against your crotch.

“No, she isn’t. But if you’re not careful I’m going to make sure your neighbors do.”

You’re tense, and he can tell. He doesn’t allow you any more space though, but he loosens his grip on your hips a little. Somewhere in your mind, you’d constructed a coherent defense, but being this close to Fred, breathing in his after-work scent, feeling his rough palms against your skin… it scrambled any thought you’d had beforehand.

“Loretta’s staying with her mom this weekend, she took Katherine with her. Which means,” he started fiddling with your fly, “I can fuck you into a coma. And when you wake up, I’ll be right there waiting to do it again.”

This was the first time he’d even suggested staying over. If you weren’t in deep before, you sure as hell were way in over your head now. While you mulled that over internally, Fred had started slipping your jeans down from your waist and kissing tenderly at your neck.

To your credit, you felt awful about it. Just monstrous. But you couldn’t help but whine at the attention, resting your hands on his chest with a considerable amount of hesitation.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a starting gun. Before you could blink your underwear had been pulled down as well, and Fred was kneeling in front of you. His hand pressed against the underside of your knee and lifted it over his shoulder, spreading you wide open with little warning. Instinctively you tangled your fingers in his hair to balance yourself. He didn’t need any verbal command to get to work, licking one long stripe along your cunt, before flicking his tongue over your clit.

Freddy’s tongue certainly stuck out as one of his best features. He didn’t have to show you the cherry stem trick, you knew he could pull it off with ease. You’d nearly forgotten where you were while he ate you out, your vision was starting to blur and you’d gotten a little louder than a clear-minded version of yourself would have liked. He was tongue-deep inside you when your legs started shaking, which he took as a sign to stop. 

Despite your obvious protest, he pulled away from you, making a show of licking his lips just to make you blush. He was already working himself out of his pants as he stood. Impatient as ever, he only unzipped them and pulled them down enough to let his cock spring free.

“Turn around.”

Of course you did. Pants still around your ankles, face flushed red, a glassy look in your eyes. Disobeying Fred was the last thing on your mind at this point. 

First, he pulled your hips back close to him, and then with one hand pushed your face to the wall. Once he had you in enough of a demeaning position, he let go of the side of your head long enough to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

He had the decency to give you a little warning as he pressed the head against you, slipping his length in slowly. Almost painfully so. Being so utterly filled was uncomfortable to start, but once his hips started to move in a steady rhythm, the pressure didn’t feel as intense. He didn’t stay at this pace for long though, and before you’d forgotten he had your head pinned to the wall, his hips started slapping against your ass. 

The hand that he’d been digging into your hip had moved to use the bottom of your shirt as leverage, balling it up in his fist. Despite your best efforts, your moans had started to drown out his own grunts and growls. 

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he hisses.

You can tell he’s already starting to edge. His thighs are taut and he’s not being nearly as careful about how he pushes against your face. The orgasm creeping up to you was promising to be worth it though.

“Fucking slut… I’m gonna bust you wide open…”

His words barely register with you, but the sound of his voice does rumble in your chest.

“You’re mine, understand?” 

It’s a demand. His voice has grown dark.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Fucking say it.”

Your breath hitches for a moment, your knees are threatening to lock together and you’re starting to see flashes behind your eyes. 

“Yours…” you stutter, “I’m all yours.”

That’s all it takes. He pulls you upright against him, wrapping his hand around your throat, still jackhammering into you. He only manages a few more thrusts before he locks up, grunting in your ear as his cock twitches inside of you. The fact that he’s cumming inside you doesn’t seem to land with you either, your eyes rolling back into your head as your own orgasm rips through you. Had his grip around your neck not been so tight, you’d probably have fallen to your knees.

He lets go of your throat, and wraps his arms around your middle, panting against your shoulder blade. You nearly double over but he keeps you steady, and after a few moments like that he hoists you up bridal style and carries you to the bedroom. 

Within what feels like moments, you’re out cold. He keeps his promise of lying next to you til morning.

#mine #freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger x oc #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher x oc #horror fanfic #horror smut #smut fanfic

[dirt-cup-draco]

Fred x Reader- Foolproof (2/2)

Previously:

“You could do it, ya know,” You found your voice had become but a whisper and Fred leaned in to hear you. “You and George could open a shop, it’d be great, I’m sure of it,”

 The smile on his face was worth the comment you had thought about biting back. He looked genuinely surprised yet pleased. “I don’t tell many people about what our plans are,” Fred admitted and your chest swelled with pride. He trusted you. “Goodnight Y/N,” He said his farewells, ducking his head to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. 

You thought you could hear him laughing softly to himself at your boggled expression. 

Now what had you gotten yourself into? As you settled down for bed, you could feel Fred’s kiss burn against your cheek, the feeling lingering until sleep claimed you.

Two more weeks had come and gone, the trees had been bared of all of their leaves and you were now wishing for snow, yet the temperature never seemed to drop low enough to bring what you desired. You were praying that sometime soon you would wake to see the grounds blanketed and the black lake frozen over. You found yourself wishing that Fred would also be frozen over in the black lake, having grown more annoyed with the Weasley than you ever had in your whole time of knowing him

All good things, no matter if it was a lie, had to come to an end apparently. 

It seemed like every few moments he was looking between you and Angelina before adjusting something, whether that be pulling you into his lap or wrapping his arm securely around your shoulder. Then came the questions that bounced around in your mind because he repeated them so often it’d be impossible to forget.

Was Angie looking? Did she look upset? Is this working?

You supposed they were good questions to ask, she was the reason behind your fake dating after all. The reason you could even claim to your friends you had a boyfriend, even if it was all blasphemy. This was for her, not you. Fred wanted Angelina, and not you. You hadn’t meant to start thinking this way but it had become impossible.

Even when wrapped up in a lie, Fred was so genuine. His honesty was refreshing and he had brightened up your life considerably. You cared for Fred of course, you had been friends for years, but this went beyond that now and you were moving into dangerous territory. Every date left your stomach in knots and every smile had a roller coaster swerving on the tracks of said knots, with tiny screaming butterflies strapped in and unable to turn the ride off.

You felt sick.

“Fred,” You spoke his name softly as you sat among his friends and brother. He was loudly joking, his body shaking with laughter as his familiar grip around your waist tightened. “Fred, can we go talk?” You asked again a bit louder and he finally took notice, as did George and Lee.

“Ooooh, someone’s in trouble,” Lee laughed and George elbowed him square in the gut with a simple “shut it,” tacked on.

Fred seemed to search for something as his eyebrows knit to the center of his forehead. “Sure love, lead the way,” He mumbled, wondering why you looked so serious all of a sudden. Had he done something wrong?

Your heart was a lump in your throat as you led him outside of the great hall and to one of the many out of the way corridors he had been showing you over the past couple weeks. “Look Fred, this past month has been fun but-”

You were cut off as Fred started laughing. “Wait, wait, are you breaking up with me?”

“And what if I am?” You asked, suddenly upset. Why was it so bizarre for you to want this to be over? You had done all you could and if Angie wasn’t biting then maybe it wasn’t meant to be. You had already invested too much into this and into Fred. You couldn’t do it anymore without giving away more of yourself and rocking the foundation that kept you from collapsing and admitting the truth to him. You liked Fred Weasley, love him even, and you couldn’t ever let that come to light.

Fred scoffed, blowing air through his nose as he thought over it. “Because! We haven’t done what we wanted to do yet! Angie still-”

“For fuck’s sake Fred! That’s just it, isn’t it? We aren’t a we! This is you with me following along like a complete and utter fool. ” You tossed your hands in the air as he brought her up. You were friends with Angelina, you didn’t know her well but this was ridiculous and it wasn’t fair of him. “What’s so wrong with you just telling her how you feel? Why muddy other people’s lives just to get another girl you’ll be bored of in a couple of weeks?”

You couldn’t help your scathing judgement as something ugly reared up inside you. You didn’t want to hear about Angelina anymore but more importantly than that you didn’t want to hear Fred talk about Angelina. You were tired of the pretending and you were tired of pretending to be cared about. The corners of your eyes prickled with the telltale sign of tears and you wouldn’t, couldn't, cry in front of him.

You escaped before Fred could stop you, ducking around him as his arm shot out to try and catch you. You didn’t turn around when he hollered your name, even if there had been confusion in his voice and something that sounded close to hurt. If only he knew how much he was hurting you.

--

Fred was moping, he realized as you ignored him the morning after you'd gotten cross with him. It was difficult for him to roll out of bed so he decided to just stay under the covers, staring at the wall and wondering where he had gone wrong. You had seemed fine the day before, sure you hadn’t been as talkative when he asked what he could do next to catch Angie’s attention but he had assumed you were just bored.

Maybe that was it. You were bored and so you were breaking off the set up you two had spent weeks on. You looked like a convincing couple and more than that, you acted like it! Fred noticed the way you were started to reach for his hand to hold when you saw him and how when he cracked a joke you would smile, even if the joke wasnt any good. You were perfectly convincing! It was perfect, it was like you weren’t even acting at all.

Fred rolled over in his bed once. Then twice. “Fuck,”

“What was that mate?” George asked, springing up at his bedside as if summoned by his twin’s abnormal tone.

Fred sighed, running his palm over his face as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t be right, you wouldn’t ever want anything to do with him! Yet he had never seen an expression on your face like the one he had been putting there with his foolish little ‘dates’ and even more idiotic pet names. The ones you paid attention to every single day...

“I’ve messed up with Y/N,” Fred spoke honestly and George grimaced.

“Is that what she wanted to talk about yesterday? I would’ve hit Lee harder if I knew you two were actually going to get into a fight. I’m feelin’ quite lucky I”m not in a relationship,”

“We’re not,” Fred said dumbly, only now realizing that you had seemed uncomfortable all during lunch and it had only gone downhill from there, especially in the hall when he had brought up Angelina.

We aren’t a we! This is you with me following along like a complete and utter fool. He recalled what you said and it was starting to shed new light on your maybe not so sudden outburst.

“She dumped you?” George asked like it was the worst sin anyone could possible commit. “Oh, you deserve so much better though, she’s a real piece of work-”

“She didn’t dump me Georgie,” Fred said through gritted teeth, frustrated because he didn’t know what to do or think or feel. “It was all fake, I wanted to catch Angie’s eye so I pretend to shack up with Y/N... It seemed like it was going well but I think that Y/N might have feelings for me,”

George could hardly believe it and Fred felt guilty seeing the way his twin was looking at him. He just hadn’t thought to tell him and then they were in too deep to the lie. It wasn’t that he didn’t think George could have helped, it just hadn’t occurred to him to share.

“You absolute tosser!” George pointed an accusing finger at Fred’s face. Fred tried to sink back into his pillows as his brother stood above him. “Y/N is lovely and our friend and you used her to get close to another girl?”

“Bit quick changing your tune aren’t you?” Fred winced as George hit the nail on the head.

He was right though, you were lovely.ou were absolutely wonderful and he had gotten to know you differently over the past month. You didn’t like brownies much unless they were like fudge, you loved the winter and hated the summer. Chrysanthemums were your favorite flower and you liked classic rock muggle music. More than that, you had confided in him about how you felt like you weren’t as desirable as the other girls around you, you’d never been in a relationship before and that could be isolating as a teen.

You had confided in him and he had used you. Now he felt like garbage.

“I love you, I really do,” George promised before swatting Fred upside the head, “but couldn’t you have just told Angelina? With how Y/N looks at you, I thought it was all real,”

“Really just rubbing it in aren’t you?”

“Someone has to consider her feelings in all this,” George pointed out and Fred’s chest constricted painfully.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her!” Fred argued, sitting up in bed as the guilt pressed down on him. “I really didn’t mean to... a month ago she agreed to fake this relationship with me, I figured that meant she didn’t have feelings for me,”

“That doesn’t mean feelings can’t grow over time. Just try and talk to her,” George advised, patting Fred on the back before he had to be getting on to class. Maybe it was good if Fred sat alone with his thoughts for a while.

--

Being alone with his thoughts did him no good. Fred still hadn’t found the courage to talk to you but he told himself it was because you were busy, and then it was because he was respecting your privacy. Lately though, he was honest enough to understand you were avoiding him.  It had been two long weeks and he was going mad.

He hadn’t realized how close you two had become until you were staying as far away from his as possible. Your attendance had been spotty, something he noticed the day after you had ‘dumped him’. When you did come to class you took a seat in the back if he was up front or a seat up front if he was in the back, it didn’t even matter if you were sitting to someone you didn’t know you just didn’t want to be around him.

Fred didn’t like how it made him feel. He especially didn’t like when he looked your way and you seemed to be physically there but not mentally. Your eyes were puffy as if you had been crying and he couldn’t help but kick himself over it. You were usually so put together and that wasn’t to say you didn’t still look as precious as always but he noticed it in the way you didn’t bother to straighten your tie and your hair wasn’t as immaculate as you like it to be. He hated seeing you sad. More than that, he hated seeing you sad because of him.

Even when he had been a lot, and he knew he could be a lot, you were there to ease him down from his hyperactivity and get his mind focused whether it be on the conversation or quidditch talk or his schoolwork. You were easy to talk with and you didn’t once get upset with him even if you gave him a bad time about his stupid jokes. You were accepting and you gave him more chances than any girl ever had.

He moved on so often because he thought no one could handle him. Fred figured his mom seemed irritated with him most of the time, why would a girl want to date him and be around that all the time? It was easy to know someone on a shallow level and skip getting to the commitment part. Which was maybe why he liked Angie. She was empathetic, witty, and a good friend. They both liked quidditch and he figured why not her? But as he sat and thought about, he wouldn’t want to tell her about the shop, about his dreams and his hopes and his future.

Angelina was great but he worried she would be one of the people who would laugh at his and George’s dream, tell him that they were so funny thinking they could achieve that. But he knew they could, and you knew they could. You had been approving and supportive and he trusted you as you trusted him. You were different, you weren’t Angie, and maybe that was a good thing. Fred liked Angie, but he loved you.

--

Two weeks had been too long with no word and you were certain now that all of it had been fake. Fred’s affections and smiles and stories were just the description on the back of the book and he hadn’t actually let you read the pages inside the cover. It had been a front and he had played you and used you just so he could find another girl.

You knew you couldn’t blame him completely. You had agreed to join this messy game of his and you thought you would come out on top, or at least unscathed. You could have ended things earlier but how were you supposed to know that you had feelings for him? You hadn’t meant to, you just did. It was unavoidable when it came to Fred.

Even now you were trying to stay cross with him, and it wasn’t as hard as you thought for which you were grateful, but you didn’t want to punch him yet. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? You couldn’t really tell. You just knew that you would be able to hold it together if you didn’t have to deal with him or talk to him ever again.

You were praying that when he eventually got with Angie you would be blinded in a terribly cauldron accident so that you didn’t have to see the pair of them happy together. Selfish? Maybe. Dramatic? Overly so. Yet you were feeling like a lovesick teen and so you felt you deserved to be dramatic. The whole situation made you feel foolish. It was impossible to not fall in love with Fred Weasley.

Even when it started to snow you couldn’t find it in you to smile.

--

Dinner was getting out and Fred was watching you like a hawk as you finished up your meal, not eating as much as you usually would. Your eyelids were heavy and you looked tired. He hoped you were getting sleep... Maybe it was a coincidence and you had just been studying too late. Fred didn’t think he was any reason to lose sleep.

Yet, he found himself losing sleep as he thought about the way you made him feel and if he was in your shoes he’d be frustrated and jealous and hurt above all. You liked him, or at least he hoped, and he had been going on about Angie like she was his destiny.

Tonight was the night he fixed things so that you could both get some rest. No matter what you said, or how you felt, Fred needed to apologize. He needed to set the record straight so you knew how precious you were to him, how everyone else bored him but he could see you in the future with him and George and there joke shop that seemed less like a dream and more like a reality every day.

You rose from your bench and your eyes went straight to the ground, scared of seeing Fred among the crowd. You weren’t hungry anymore and it was probably just best if you went to bed for the night.

You got beyond the doors of great hall, eyelids heavy and shoulders sagging as you shuffled to your common room. Yawning, you were stalled in repeating the password to the person staring down at you from their portrait.

Fred sped up as you paused at the portrait, hand coming up to wave your yawn away as sleep crept up behind you. “Y/N!” He called out, stopping abruptly at your side before you even recognized that he had arrived. You jumped and took two steps back, only to be met with a wall. “I’ve been looking for you,”

Your expression soured as you took in the redheaded boy. He had been looking for you? Was he looking for an apology? Maybe he was here to tell you he had finally gotten that girlfriend he wanted... “I don’t want to talk Fred,” You shoved past him, opening your mouth to repeat the password but stopped you, determined hands grabbing your shoulders.

“Don’t talk then,” He said, holding your cheeks in his hand, crushing his lips to yours, slanting his lips and hoping you would follow suit. You didn’t however, your nose scrunched up and you..you bit him? He pulled away with a sudden jerk, only being more surprised when your palm came from nowhere to slap him across the cheek.

Fred was dumbfounded. You had tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, I-”

“No talking,” You sniffled. “You haven’t talked to me in two weeks and now you think it’s okay to kiss me?! I-I’ve never been kissed before Fred, and I certainly didn’t want it to be because of this mockery of a ‘relationship’ we had... I can do a lot for you Fred, but I can’t be happy about that and I can’t keep going on like this, just leave me alone,”

“No,” Fred said, reaching for you again but you sent him a warning glare that kept him from doing so. “Darling, please... I swear I forgot- ‘bout your first kiss I mean... Wouldn’t have done that if I’d remembered,” He said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with worry. “Just let me explain?”

You wanted to be angry, and you were, that had been the most unpleasant first kiss you could have imagined. Yet Fred was standing in front of you with those gorgeous doe eyes and you were becoming quickly powerless to them. “Fine,” You hoped your tone sounded intimidating because you didn’t want Fred thinking he’d gotten off so easy.

“Let me just start with an apology, I never wanted this to hurt you and it took you fake dumping me and George smacking some sense into me that I realized what a selfish git I’ve been and how I really messed up... It wasn’t fair wait I did, especially because at some point it became natural to be with you all the time and take you out. I started thinking about what you might like for a date instead of what Angie might like, but all the while I was trying to make her jealous and that was wrong of me. I thought this whole plan was foolproof but it just left me looking like a fool,”

Fred paused, searching your eyes and asking for permission to continue. It looked like you had been momentarily calmed down and you crossed your arms over your chest before dictating that he could, “Go on, please. I’m liking the bit about how you really messed up,” Fred smiled a bit even if it felt strained.

“I’ll say it as many times as you want, I messed up. I messed up very badly and I used one of the most lovely, giving, patient hearts I’ve ever known. You were right more than once and Angelina isn’t it for me... I just thought she’d be the only one who would be able to handle me. That’s not anyway to think though and with you I’ve realized that I can have someone who loves me like I love them and it doesn’t have to be something as pathetic as me taking the first person who is willing to deal with me...”

“You’re joking,” You said after a minute, eyes narrowed as you took a step forward, poking Fred’s chest angrily. “You’re just trying to get a rise out of me aren’t you? You have to be... You like Angelina, not me,” You added but your voice cracked, your anger dissipating with your oncoming insecurity.

“It’s not a joke,” Fred promised, grabbing your hand the next time you sent a bruising jab to his chest. “For the first time in my entire life, it is not a joke Y/N. I want you,”

“You fucking idiot,” You sniffled. “You better make up for that rubbish first kiss then, because I swear that my first kiss is not going to be from a boy I’m angry at, I’d rather it be from a boy I love,”

Fred followed you into your common room, curling up on the couch alongside you and pulling you nearer and nearer until the gap that he created between you two had been bridged. And after watching the snow fall, and being able to smile about it for the first time, Fred made up for the first kiss, and then the second, and then several more after that.

You were his darling, he was your fool. And that’s exactly how you wanted it to be.

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #fluff #prompt #request #ask #angst #part two

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 112 prt 2

Keith didn’t listen, or maybe he didn’t want to. Lance’s feet were slightly bloodied from the blisters. His little toes taking the brunt of them

“Babe!”

“It’s fine”

“What’s going on?”

Shiro jogged over to them. Right. He knew. Great. Now he had two idiots fussing over him

“Nothing. Keith is overreacting to my feet being sore”

Shiro let out a whistle as he looked at Lance’s feet. This was why they couldn’t have nice things

“You should have said something”

“They’ll be fine. Quit making a fuss. I just need something to eat and it’ll be all good”

“Did you...?”

Lance rolled his eyes at Shiro. He wasn’t stupid enough not to be prepared. All his clothes were in Keith’s bag, while Lance’s bag had his injections, shake mix, blood, and stash of chocolate... and Keith’s things like spare batteries

“Yeah. I do know how to go camping. You’re acting like you’ve never seen a vampire camp before, besides, I don’t think this even counts as camping seeing we’re staying in cabins”

“Alright, I guess you’ve got it sorted then. I’ll leave you too it”

Great. Now he’d driven off Shiro... and now he was getting teary about driving Shiro off...

From the kitchen Rieva called out

“We’re going to figure out where we’re all sleeping. We’ll come back soon!”

Pidge came running back from down the hall, Lance envious of her energy, as she bounded over to the kitchen bench and slammed her hands down on the counter. He wasn’t quite who she was talking to, but she seemed pretty happy with whatever she’d discovered

“We’re in here. There’s like sooo much space in here. Shay, come check this out!”

Shay had been happily passing things to Hunk over the kitchen bench, Hunk leaning over to kiss her before she left to be towed around by Pidge. Matt and Rieva giving them a small wave before they were off too. Oh to be young again. Wriggling his toes at Keith, Keith snorted at him

“What do you want now?”

“Nothing. I think I’m healing already”

“You really should rinse them”

“And give up this recliner? I think not”

“Am I going to have to fight the recliner for your attention this weekend?”

“Yep”

“You two haven’t forgotten we’re still here, have you?”

Lance poked his tongue out at Curtis, who was acting under Hunk’s supervision to unpack into the pantry

“Nope. Keith’s going to do the fire. You and Shiro should probably figure out what’s going on with the power tonight”

“Or you and Keith could”

Hunk was a traitor... then again, he had Curtis put to work already

“But Keith just took my boots off”

“And you can put them back on”

Lance let out a whine. His ego was such a fragile bastard. He still couldn’t quite look at Shiro, even though Shiro seemed happy enough

“Shiro and I can go... Babe, make sure you have something to eat while we’re gone”

“Okay...”

Now he didn’t want Keith to leave... ugh. All this anxiety from Keith being worried about him... he didn’t want it

“I love you. I’ll do the fire when we get back, then we can start making plans for dinner”

“No need! I organised things last night. It’s heat and eat tonight”

That was why Hunk was the best person ever to camp with. Standing up, Keith placed both hands on the arms of the recliner before kissing him softly

“Eat and get some rest. I’ll be back soon”

Lance pressed two small kisses to his boyfriend’s lips in return

“I will. Can you... I didn’t mean to upset Shiro”

“He’s fine. I’ll talk to him”

“You shouldn’t have to”

Keith kissed him, probably to shut him up as the kiss was long and deep. Lance saddened as soon as it was over

“It’s fine. I love you, babe”

“I love you, too”

*

Keith felt alive from the hike. It’d been too long. The only thing he didn’t like was that Lance had blisters, he forced to tell himself sternly that Lance would heal with blood and he’d made a fuss over nothing. A few metres from the cabins was a small shed with instructions over the generator and how the battery system worked. Following the instructions failed to bring doom upon them, Keith bumping Shiro’s shoulder on the way back, his brother kind of quiet

“What’s up?”

“Oh, what? Nothing... just thinking this place is nice. Lance did a good job with the booking”

“He did... He said he’s okay...”

“Yeah. Curtis has noticed something’s up and it’s hard not telling him”

So that was what it was

“I nearly told Hunk today...”

“Yeah?”

“Pidge made a dumb joke without meaning anything by it. He said I looked like I was going to kill him”

Shiro snorted as he wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulder. Keith wondering if it’d snow with the sudden chill setting in on the air, drawn back to reality by his brother’s reply

“We both know you wouldn’t”

“I know... I know you want to tell him...”

“You decided to them after the next scan...”

“Doesn’t make it any easier. Lance really likes Curtis, I think he wants to tell him”

“I think he’d kill us if we all started fussing over him”

Yeah. He was stubborn like that... but Keith kind of felt he needed to worry and fuss when Lance had rubbed both little toes raw. Then again, Shiro was off with the fairies, and he had to wonder if his brother regretted coming

“Probably. But are you okay?”

“Yeah, kiddo. How can I not be?”

“Because we’re on holiday with a vampire, two werewolves, a half cursed man, and three other humans?”

Shiro chuckled at him, hand coming up to ruffle his hair

“Don’t forget Kosmo”

How could he forget his best boy?

“And Kosmo. This place is really nice”

“We’ve only seen the main cabin. I know you and Lance wanted a cabin to yourselves, but are you sure you don’t want to use the main cabin?”

“Nah... it’s safer for you guys...”

“Keith, you’re human too”

Keith blushed, but if you asked him his cheeks were red thanks to the cold, and not thanks to the plans he had later

“I know, but... uh, Lance and I want to maybe try being intimate again. We haven’t done anything since the accident... well, we did in the...”

In the shower and it’d been... fuck... Lance had been very pent up, his hips bucking against Keith’s as they made out clumsily thanks to a lack of coffee and a triple shot of morning wood

“I don’t think I want you to finish that... I was thinking with how easily he gets cold”

“We’ll work something out. If it’s too cold we’ll crash in the living room in front of the fire or something. What about you and Curtis?”

“Did you just ask me if Curtis and I were going to have sex?”

Keith groaned

“Not on purpose. I mean... like... are you happy you’re here with him?”

“Yeah, kiddo... and yep. We can’t let you and Lance have all fun”

“Come on, Lance and I are tame compared to Rieva and Matt”

“Don’t remind me. They’re going to be all over each other come spring”

“Maybe we’ll be welcoming a new Holt soon?”

“I think Rieva’s got a thing or three to say about that”

“Probably... I bet Lance has already fallen asleep”

“He seemed pretty tired”

“I think he is, he won’t agree”

“Did he nap on the way here?”

“Nah. He pretended to, but his breathing didn’t even out and he wasn’t snoring”

“You know you’re allowed to relax right? That you don’t have to focus on him alone”

“I’m going to relax... now that we’re here I feel more relaxed because I know he can make the walk back down”

“He really isn’t a hiker”

“If you ask him, I think he’d be all like “keep your vampire nice and warm and indoors””

“He doesn’t do well in the cold”

“Try sleeping next to him. It’s like cuddling ice”

Shiro bumped him with his hip, teasing him gently

“You love it”

“Yeah... I do. This weekend is going to be awesome”

“It sure will. It sure will”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1  

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

If Stretch had to make a top ten list of people that he expected to find at his front door on any given day, Papyrus would be on it, but Stretch had to guiltily admit, he would have been close to the bottom of the list, just below the mailperson.

It wasn't that Stretch didn't like Papyrus, he really did, but somehow, their paths didn't cross that often. Papyrus did a lot of work up at the Embassy and spent time training with Undyne and the rest of the security team. He had his own group down at the Y like Edge did of younger kids and every year they did a nature hike out in the wilds of Ebott, down the walking path that ran behind the shopping center.

Papyrus had his own gig going on and that was fine, but it did mean they mostly saw each other on movie nights and holidays. Kinda like cousins, maybe, not that Stretch ever had any. Not exactly close family, but family, nonetheless.

Now, finding Papyrus AND Jeff on his porch? Both of them with their arms loaded with plastic food containers and cups from the Beanery that looked to be filled with gloriously caffeinated concoctions? That wasn’t anywhere on Stretch’s top ten list or even in the top fifty. That was one that might’ve wandered onto an alternate list in the AM hours when Stretch couldn’t sleep, but even then, the odds weren’t good.

Papyrus’s grin of maniacal cheer, though, that was to be expected. It was the same one Blue got going when he had a scheme up his pant leg and that made warnings prickles stand up and do the cha-cha-cha on Stretch’s spine.

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, “what’s going on?”

“What is going on is we are here to see you!” Papyrus said cheerily. He shifted the boxes in his arms. “We can continue going by you letting us inside!”

“I mean, you can leave us on the porch if you want,” Jeff’s grin was less maniacal, at least. Honestly, he looked tired and also like he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. “We’ll just stand here, alone, sad and pining for the fjords, wasting away—”

“yeah, yeah, i get it,” Stretch grinned and held open the door. “come in before the neighbors get interested. they already think we’re better than netflix.”

Papyrus and Jeff trooped inside, and Stretch took a second to peek out the front door. Edge was still working diligently on his flowerbeds, so that was fine. He saw Stretch looking and blew him a kiss and maybe catching it was pretend, but the warmth in his soul from it was plenty real.

Didn’t mean Stretch missed that his loving traitor didn’t come inside, though.

By the time he closed the front door, Jeff and Papyrus had taken over the coffee table. There were several plastic containers alongside the drink cups and okay, yeah, Stretch was curious to see what largess had been brought to them. Hopefully not too much, with his cast off and permission to stand, Edge was probably itching to get back into the kitchen. He’d graciously accept anything the guys brought over, probably, and then he’d be stuck between his urgent need to make food for everyone in sight and his need not to waste any morsel that came into the house. It was a bit of a balancing act and Edge was already wobbly on his feet.

Stretch wandered over to give one of the containers a poke. “i hadn't heard the hospital cut you loose yet, Paps.

“Just yesterday!” Papyrus beamed and now Stretch could see he had a cane of his own, exactly the same as Edge’s but he was currently using it more as punctuation than for support.

Released yesterday and Stretch hadn’t even known. He could have, should have. He’d just seen Sans a couple days go and he’d asked about Red, but not his brother who was still in the fucking hospital. And what, he could send tweets out to his fans but not a text to Papyrus to see how he was feeling? Stretch swallowed hard against the rising thickness in the back of his throat. “listen, i'm sorry i didn't get up to see you at the hospital much.”

Papyrus being Papyrus, only waved that off. “Not at all! Everyone is very busy right now.”

“Yeah,” Jeff put in and there was a wealth of meaning in that single word that probably synced up to the shadows under his eyes. “I barely got up there to see you and Edge, too.”

“Besides,” Papyrus went on, “You had your own patient to handle in what I am sure was an experience that left you stronger!”

“heh, that’s one way of putting it. how’s the noggin?” The bandages that were wrapped around Papyrus’s head in the hospital were gone and all the bruising faded. The dark line of a hairline crack was still running along his parietal bone. At this point it was probably here to stay, healing magic wasn’t much good on scars, otherwise Stretch would have gotten to work on Edge’s a long time ago.

Papyrus mimed rapping on his skull with his knuckles. “Better. I am still on sick leave even though I am injured, not sick. But I am not falling down as much now so they let me go home!”

The phrase falling down had implications that made Stretch shudder, even though he knew that wasn’t what Papyrus meant. Especially after today, seeing Edge’s healing leg, all his new scars, hairline fractures, all of them, but they were still there.

Okay, yeah, a subject change seemed to be a good idea.

Stretch picked up one of the containers and gave it a little shake. “so what brings you over to see me. not that i don’t want to see you guys, but…” He gestured at the rest of the containers. “i’m seeing a plan here.”

“Yes!” Papyrus said happily. “I brought something for your chickens!"

Huh. Today was definitely going off the charts, because that option wasn’t on any of Stretch’s top ten lists. “seriously?"

Papyrus obviously had his own standards when it came to lists, because he nodded as if it were obvious. “Yes! You see, usually when you are sick or injured in the hospital because of germs or stupidity—"

“hey!”

“--i have cared for your chickens for you! this time i was in the hospital and so i brought them spaghetti!”

Impeccable logic, really. Except for one small detail.

Paps was a much better cook these days but pasta still tended to elude him. Even the mention of spaghetti still gave Stretch shuddering flashbacks of those first few weeks when they came to this universe. It’d almost been enough for him to wish they were back in Underswap.

Almost.

All the other dishes Papyrus made were more than palatable, even delicious, except for when he dug out the noodles. Much as he didn’t want to hurt any feelings, neither did Stretch want to murder his chickens by poison pasta. “um that's really nice, but, uh.”

Whatever Papyrus thought he was going to say, if there were any hurt feelings about it, he shed it like water off a duck’s back, “Have no fear! It is vegetable spaghetti!"

“Spiral cut veggies, “Jeff put in. He pried off one of the lids and held it out, revealing bright orange and purple strands. His grin was a little wry; Jeff was another victim of Papyrus’s attempts at carbonara. “We made it fresh this morning.”

Oh. They’d made it, together. For the teeniest, tiniest moment there was a twinge of stupid jealousy, bitter sharp in his soul, because Jeff was supposed to be his best friend and here was Papyrus poaching on his territory when he already had lots of friends, in a couple different countries even, pen pals and people at the Embassy, why did he need one of Stretch’s?

Then he squashed that thought like the stink bug it was; there was plenty of Andy to go around and he wasn’t about to end his week by being a dick to his best friends over veggie noodles.

So hey, time to unwrap the enthusiasm and get this chicken party started. Stretch pasted his smile back on and said, “well hey, let’s go out back! i bet they’ll be scrambling for it.”

Papyrus didn’t even groan at the pun, though Jeff booed under his breath. His smile brought new meaning to the word beaming, it really did, bright as the sun. “Let me get some plates!”

He caned his way into the kitchen before Stretch could even offer to do it for him and yeah, there was one of the ways he and Edge were alike, stubborn little shits that they were.

Stretch shook his head and turned back to Jeff to ask, softly, “how is he doing, really?”

“He’s been fine today, but he should probably sit down for a while,” Jeff said in the same quiet tone. “I had him sitting at home when we were using the spiral slicer and he was pretty good about it. Don’t let him fool you, though, the doctors told him to take it easy—”

“—and he’s not really good at following their instructions,” Stretch finished with a sigh. “yeah, i’ve had some practice with that.”

“I’ll bet,” Jeff laughed just as Papyrus returned, plates in hand. Stretch kept back any comments about what Edge might have to say about them using his plates to feed chickens. Hey, they were family, they could use the good tableware.

“I’ll bet, too,” Papyrus said, “if you two are finished talking about me behind my back! Unless you want to do it in front of my face as well.”

Yeah, there were definitely times Stretch could tell Papyrus and Edge were cut from the same cloth. Although if he ever saw Edge smiling like Papyrus did, Stretch would be checking for any other signs of the apocalypse. “nah, i think we’re good. let’s head out.”

“Oh, and we brought you—” Jeff plucked one of the plastic cups from the table and held it out with a flourish. “triple venti, iced caramel macchiato with whip and an extra shot.”

Now that was a drink and Stretch took the cup, clutching it to his chest without even caring for the condensation dampening the front of his sweatshirt.

“you are the second-best person in the world,” Stretch told him sincerely, “if i wasn’t already married to the first best, i’d be polishing up my flirting skills for you.”

Jeff only rolled his eyes, “Yeah, okay, I’ll add you to my dance card, Mr. Darcy.”

“The dating manual has a chapter on polygamous relationships if you’d like to borrow it!” Papyrus said brightly.

Immediately, Jeff’s pale cheeks flamed a bright red and Stretch felt a blush of his own warm his face. Uh, yeah, no, his love for Andy stayed above the waist, thanks. Now he was glad Edge hadn’t come inside, he’d either be annoyed or silently laughing his ass off. Either way, Stretch could live without it.

He clapped a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, “you know what, paps, i think we’re good, but i’ll keep it in mind. c’mon, it’s a nice day and the ladies await!”

“Of course!” Papyrus followed Stretch to the back door while Jeff gathered up the containers. “Did Edge redecorate the kitchen? I seem to recall a lot less red paint splattered on the walls and also a table the last time I was here…”

~~*~~

A few days ago, Stretch spent a couple hours cleaning off all the chairs on the patio from any winter gunk left on them. He’d done it for Edge so he could come outside while he was still off limits on any marathons, just a quick scrub down and some sunshine and they were good.

Now he wondered why he bothered because so far, every time anyone came out to the backyard, they ended up sitting on the damned ground. At least they grabbed the cushions off the chairs to keep the damp away. The chickens were gabbling eagerly from the moment the sliding glass door opened and the volume doubled when they realized it was more than the usual amount of suckers to demand scritches from.

Stretch let loose the chicks and Papyrus laid down the plates, already scolding, “Now hold on a moment, there’s more than one flavor! You’ll need a serving of each for the full decadent experience!”

Soon enough the grub was out and they were all sitting on their cushions, watching the chickens feast.

“gotta say, this was a pretty good idea,” Stretch admitted. Pretty good was understating it, the chickens loved the veggie spaghetti and they were gobbling it down, switching plates at will as they scarfed it as fast as they could. Noodle let out an indignant squawk when Nugget stole a tasty looking tidbit from under her beak and ended up on the other end of a strand with Dumpling in an impromptu Lady and the Tramp recreation that ended a lot less romantically when Nugget stole a bite right through the center.

“Of course it was!” Papyrus said loftily. Then he surprised Stretch by adding, “JeffAndy suggested it.”

Stretch raised a brow bone and Jeff shrugged, awkwardly, “Julia used to make veggie spaghetti all the time and Blue had a spiral cutter, so.”

“i haven’t seen blue for a few days.” Stretch fumbled into his hoodie pocket for his lighter, the metal smooth and cool under his fingertips. “how’s he doing?”

“Good. Busy, like all of us,” Jeff said. He took a drink from his cup and it left a slight whipped cream mustache on his upper lip that he licked away. “Think everyone will be glad when Edge is back full time.”

“yeah.” The lighter flicking through his fingers wasn’t enough suddenly and Stretch pulled out a pack of cigarettes to go with it at the same time he nudged Papyrus with an elbow. “and how’s your bro doing?”

“Very well!” Papyrus plucked up a far-flung piece of spaghetti and tossed it back towards the chickens. Dumpling all but snapped it out of the air. “He’s packing as we speak!”

“packing?” That was about the last thing Stretch expected to ever hear about Sans. He and Papyrus were the only brother pair still living together and Stretch would have put good odds on the that only changing if Papyrus moved out, and even then, Sans might try to crawl into one of the suitcases. Sans packing up was serious levels of gossip that he was missing out on.

Papyrus nodded. “Yes! Now that he and Red are betrothed, he is moving in! He didn’t want to leave at first, but I told him I would have someone stay with me until I am fully recovered!”

Betrothed was a weird way to describe that relationship and Sans actually moving in? Made Stretch wonder what’d happened that day when Sans carried Red out of the kitchen, not that he’d wanted to be a fly on the wall or anything. Maybe Red liked to play the spy guy, but Stretch had enough nightmares as it was. If he ever had to hear Red in throes of orgasm, he’d scrub the inside of his skull with a toilet brush.

“not undyne.” He couldn’t imagine her staying away from Alphys, especially not while she had a bun cooking in the oven.

“No, no, your brother!”

Stretch was in the middle of lighting his cigarette and sucked in too hard, coughing the smoke back out. His brother was staying with Papyrus? When did that happen? He was starting to feel more and more like Dorothy when she first stepped off the tornado.

“okay, hang on,” Stretch rubbed a knuckle between his sockets where an ache was starting to form. “can i get a timeline on this?”

“Of course!” Papyrus ticked off on his fingers. “First, Red gave Sans a betrothal collar.”

That choker he’d been wearing, with the heart-shaped buckle. Not at all the sort of thing he’d expected to be Sans’s taste, it’d been cute when Sans was more, ‘wear whatever fell on me today’. “is that what that was?”

“Oh, yes, Red told me that collars hold great significance in Underfell!”

“did he now?” Stretch said softly. Nope, that didn’t sting, not one little bit. His soul wasn’t at all lurching in his chest, rising up to settle painfully under his clavicles.

“Very much so! A betrothal collar is a promise and a warning.” Papyrus leaned in, his voice lowered conspiratorially to a level just below a shout. “More people probably need warnings about Sans.”

“you’re probably right.” Honestly, he should probably be wearing a sign.

“So he got his collar and told me. Then I told him he needed to move in with his fiancée and he said, ‘whoa, bro, don’t know about that you’re still pretty banged up and all.’”

Stretch couldn’t help grinning. He had to admit, that impression of Sans was pretty bang on.

“and I told him I would find someone else to stay with me and I asked your brother and he agreed!” Papyrus finished triumphantly.

He glanced at Jeff, who’d moved his cushion to be downwind of the cigarette smoke. “what about andy, thought you and blue were playing roommates.”

“I’m moving in with Antwan,” Jeff admitted shyly. He toyed with the laces on his shoes. “I mean, for now anyway.”

Normally, Stretch would have been squealing to hear that because hello, about fucking time. But from the sounds of it, if he wasn’t the last to know about all this, he was pretty damn close. “this all happened in the past couple days?”

Papyrus glanced at him. “If we are measuring by linear time, then yes.”

“always did prefer linear. helps to keep things straight. hey, congrats, andy,” Stretch said belatedly. Really belated, seemed like if this news was days old.

“Don’t congratulate me yet, Antwan hasn’t had to move my comic book collection,” Jeff laughed. But from his pink, pleased face he was pretty excited and why shouldn’t he be, he was moving in with his guy, Blue was moving in with Papyrus, Sans moving in with Red. All kinds of stuff going on that no one gave Stretch a call or text about it. Not that he blamed them, not really. He wasn’t being much of a good big brother lately or cousin or friend or whatever else the fuck he pretended he could do. Made him wonder how he was doing as a husband, since he was so shit at everything else.

The chickens were done mangling every speck of the spaghetti and Nugget wandered over to peck at the string on Stretch’s hoodie hopefully. It hadn’t turned into food for her the other hundred times she’d tried it, but that never stopped her before, especially since now it looked like her last treat. Stretch crushed out his cigarette and gave her a hopeful nudge, and she settled into his lap amicably, clucking happily as he smoothed a hand down her feathers.

Noodle was taking refuge in Papyrus’s lap, crooning for her own pets that Papyrus obediently provided. “Your chickens are very nice.”

“We’re lucky Edge isn’t here,” Jeff chuckled even as he coaxed Dumpling over for scritches of her own. “They think he’s the next coming of Chicken Jesus.”

Papyrus frowned. “I wouldn’t think that chickens followed Christian theology.”

It was always hard to tell when Papyrus was sincere or when he was fucking with you, and Stretch had a feeling he was being bent over today. “nah, these ladies are nondenominational.”

“If one must have a harem, one of chickens seems a good choice!” Papyrus said thoughtfully. “There are the eggs to consider.”

“a harem, why would---never mind.” Stretch decided he really didn’t want to know which way Papyrus’s brain was twisting today, he had enough of that with his own.

“By the way,” Jeff said as he struggled to keep Dumpling from attacking his shoelaces, “now that Edge is feeling better, I should probably tell you that your brother’s freezer is filled with bags of grapes.”

“grap..oh.” The grapes from Edge’s garden that he’d been picking when…well. When everything. He’d honestly forgotten all about them, that whole day was pretty much a suckhole of shit that he didn’t care to ever repeat. Even thinking that made Stretch feel a little queasy, knocking him even more off balance while he was trying to catch his equilibrium. Stretch let out a little laugh and if it sounded a little shrill, neither Jeff nor Papyrus noticed. “you froze them, really? when did you even have the time?”

Jeff shrugged, which meant it was probably after work, maybe even at the end of that long, horrible day, and he’d been exhausted and done it anyway. He really was a good friend, better than Stretch deserved.

“i’ll let him know.” Stretch rubbed Nugget gently under the chin and she cooed happily. “and hey, thanks for stopping by with the spaghetti for my girls and letting me knows what’s up with the nearby world.”

“Wish I could say it was my idea,” Jeff said. His smile was a little lopsided. “I’ve missed hanging out. With everything that’s going on, Papyrus thought maybe you were feeling a little out of the loop. He said not being at work makes him think it’s Sunday when it’s Wednesday.”

“yeah, he’s got a good point.”

“I usually do,” Papyrus said modestly.

The sliding glass door opened then, and Edge stepped out. Immediately the chickens abandoned all laps and ran to him, and usually Stretch thought that was cute as fuck, but today, it was an extra scoop of abandonment on top of his cone of salty guilt.

Edge crouched and gave each of them a quick pat, “Hello, everyone. I only wanted to check if you two are staying for dinner.”

“No,” Papyrus said, somehow managing to look sad and elated at the same time. “Blue is planning a welcome to my home dinner for me tonight!”

“I can’t either, Antwan and I haven’t done anything but sleep in the same bed for the past week. We’re planning take out and time together.” Jeff scrambled to his feet with a groan, stretching, “We need to get going, anyway.”

Edge nodded, like none of this was news to him. Maybe it wasn’t, Stretch really was the last to know everything. Even about betrothal collars and Stretch twisted the ring on his finger, feeling the delicate swirls etched into it with the tips of his fingers. The metal wasn’t cool like his lighter, warmed by his own bones.

It only took a couple of minutes for Jeff and Papyrus to gather up the empty containers, and Stretch got the plates, setting them next to him on the ground.

“see you guys later!” Stretch called as they went through the gate. He got waves in return and then they were gone.

Edge sat down on the cushion next to him, stretching out his leg brace in front of him as he nudged it closer than Papyrus had. Close enough for him to settle his own hand over Stretch’s and he couldn’t help wondering if that was to keep him from reaching for his cigarettes again. He was supposed to be quitting and that’d fallen to the wayside at some point, supposed to be seeing Alphys about his HP, when was the last time he’d done that? So many fucking questions today and Stretch wasn’t sure about some of the answers.

“Just you and me tonight then, love,” Edge said. His thumb grazed lightly across Stretch’s knuckles and he noted absently that he’d changed his gloves. These ones were worn soft, comfort gloves, like some of Stretch’s sweatshirts, and he didn’t know why Edge needed comforting.

“yeah, just you and me,” Stretch agreed softly, and when had that become less of a delight.

He really was losing his touch because Edge gave him a narrow look almost immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing,” Stretch said, and he forced lightness into the word, “think i’m just a little tired, we had a lot going on today.”

Edge hummed softly in agreement, “Why don’t you take a nap?”

“take one with me?” Stretch offered and he knew from the split-second of hesitation on Edge’s face that he wanted to say no. Which, of course he fucking did, he just got his cast off, he was probably wanting a shower or maybe even a bath, give those newly scarred bones a good scrub before he went to do all the other shit he couldn’t do last week. “you know what, never mind.”

“Are you sure?” Edge asked, because of course he did. He always put Stretch’s happiness first. Like it was something Stretch actually deserved and that was a shitty thing to think and Stretch knew it, so he was stopping that right now.

“yep,” Stretch forced a yawn. “if it’s just me i can sprawl out.”

“Me being in the bed has never stopped you before,” Edge said dryly. But he lifted Stretch’s hand and kissed his knuckles, right over his wedding ring, the one Edge gave him when he promised to love and cherish him, and Stretch was gonna knock it the fuck off thinking about anything with collars or Underfell. Edge loved him and he knew it, he didn’t need anything else.

Not a damn thing.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[lakesandquarries]

After the Storm (Chapter Five)

hey i’m taking prompts and suggestions for a bit!! feel free to message me here or comment on AO3!  i can't promise i'll get to all of them but i can at least draw inspiration from them!

also if i made a discord server for this fic would anyone join?

AO3 Link

It’s a much nicer walk to get home than it was to find Sonic. The kid’s fast asleep in Tom’s arms, mumbling in his sleep periodically. Tom’s glad for the reminder that he’s there, that he’s safe.

Maddie’s waiting on the porch when Tom arrives, pacing back and forth. Even from a distance he can see her shoulders slump in relief, and he practically runs the last few feet, careful not to disturb the hedgehog in his arms.

“He’s okay?” Maddie asks.

“Physically, yeah. Emotionally...mostly? We’re gonna need to talk to him.”

Maddie nods. “Well, that can wait ‘til everyone gets some sleep.”

Tom doesn’t bother bringing Sonic up to the attic, not when the master bedroom is right there and perfectly fine. And...well, honestly, he doesn’t really wanna let the kid - his kid - out of his sight yet.

The bed is big enough for three, and Sonic seems content to just curl in a ball in the middle of the bed, anyway. Maddie grabs an extra blanket from the closet and gently lays it over him, smiling as he pulls it tighter in his sleep.

Tom takes a moment to change - he’d like a full shower, honestly, but he’s too exhausted for that. At the very least he can minimize how much dirt he tracks into the bed.

“We’re gonna need to do laundry,” he says as he pulls the blanket over him.

“That’s a problem for later,” Maddie says. “How are you doing?”

Good question. “Tired, mostly.”

“I can call the station, let them know you can’t come in.”

Normally, he hates missing work. He gets a little restless on days off, bored without something to do. But he has a feeling the day’s gonna be busy regardless. And he really doesn’t wanna leave Sonic alone right now.

“I think that’s a good idea. What about you?”

“They’ll survive without me for a day. Family’s more important.” She reaches over, squeezing his shoulder. Tom lets out a slow exhale, pushing the blanket aside to make sure Sonic’s asleep.

“I’m worried about him,” he says, once he’s certain. “I went to check on him and he just - he flipped out. Accidentally zapped my hand and he just took off. I...I think we might be a little out of our depth, here.”

Tom’s good at fixing things. There’s a reason people come to him for repairs. He’s handy with a hammer, and more than that, he’s a pretty good listener. Just a couple days ago, he’d gotten a call about a teenager with a broken car. They’d only needed a tire change, but Tom had ended up sticking around for an extra hour, listening to the kid talk about how his boyfriend dumped him and his life was over. By the time Tom had left, the kid seemed at least a little happier, so Tom figured he had to be doing something right.

But Tom’s pretty sure being completely alone for...however long Sonic has been on Earth isn’t something that can be fixed in a single conversation.

“Stop otherthinking,” Maddie says, gently smacking his arm. “We just need to take the first step. Make sure he knows we want him to talk to us, that it’s an option. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, “you’re right.”

“I always am.” Maddie leans over to kiss him. “Get some sleep.”

Tom doesn’t need to be told twice.

—

It’s mid afternoon by the time everyone’s awake. Sonic is the last one up, surprisingly enough, but he did have a pretty rough night, so it’s understandable.

Still. Tom doesn’t feel comfortable getting out of bed until the kid’s awake, blinking up at him blearily, face scrunched up.

“Still here,” Sonic mumbles, leaning his face into Tom’s arm.

“Still here,” Tom repeats.

Maddie stretches loudly, nearly smacking Tom in the face. “C’mon! Time to get up!” Sonic whines, trying to burrow back under the covers, until Maddie adds, “I’ll let you have some ice cream with your breakfast.”

“And there he goes.” Tom figures he ought to drag himself out of bed too, trailing just behind Maddie as she heads into the kitchen. Sonic is already zipping around the kitchen, apparently deciding to add ice cream to his cereal. Weird, but honestly not the weirdest thing Tom’s seen him eat.

Breakfast is quiet. Maddie makes eggs (plain for herself, cheese for Tom, and a little hot sauce for Sonic) while Tom throws out a few bad puns just to try and get a laugh. Sonic doesn’t quite seem in the mood, though, so he gives up pretty fast.

Tom’s original plan had been to wait, let the kid settle a little before springing another emotional conversation on him. But with the way Sonic is acting, Tom’s not sure he can wait.

---

Tom drops his fork with a clang, starling Sonic.

“So,” Tom says. “I wanna start off by saying you’re not in trouble.

Sonic’s seen enough movies to know where this is going. You’re not in trouble is always followed by a yet .

“But,” Tom continues. “I think we need to talk about what happened last night.”

“It won’t happen again,” he says quickly, and he’s about to add more but Tom is shaking his head.

“That’s not what I mean. We’re not mad, kiddo. We’re just worried.”

“You’ve been through a lot, the last few weeks.” Maddie lays her hand on the table, reaching towards Sonic. “We just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“What if -“ Sonic stares at Maddie’s hand. Swallows, hard. Thinks about last night, Tom reaching out only to recoil with burnt fingers. “What if I’m not?”

“Then we can work together until you are,” Maddie says. She doesn’t recoil - not yet, at least. But Maddie wasn’t there last night, and Sonic doesn’t know if Tom even told her.

“You’re not alone,” Tom says, and for a second Sonic can’t breathe. His breath catches in his throat, choking him.

“I know,” he manages, “I know , but I - I’m - I keep having nightmares, and I keep thinking, maybe it’d be better if I was? Because when I was alone, people were safe. And I know the people from the government are still looking for me, and what if they find me? You’ll get in trouble too! Or what if I hurt someone? I don’t know how to control my powers, I keep waking up all static-y and I don’t know how to make it stop - and I hurt Tom! And in my dream I -” he thinks back to his dream, seeing every person he cared about motionless, Robotnik’s excitement . “I hurt everyone and what if it comes true?”

Stop talking! he thinks, but the words spill out anyways. “I don’t think I know how to not be alone,” he says, and then covers his mouth with his hands.

“Sonic,” Maddie starts.

“I mean, uh - I’m fine! It’s fine, I just - adjustment period! That’s the thing, right? I’m just - settling in. It’s fine! You don’t need to worry, I’m just - I need to go upstairs -”

“ Sonic ,” Maddie says again, firmer this time. “Sweetie, please don’t run off.”

He pulls his legs up. He’s worried if they touch the floor he might not be able to stop himself.

“Thank you,” Maddie says. Sonic tilts his head.

“For what?”

“For sharing,” she says. “Letting us know what’s going on means we can actually help.”

“And we want to help,” Tom adds. “You’re part of the family, and that’s what family is. ”

Sonic taps out a nervous rhythm on his knee, scared of what he’ll say if he opens his mouth again. Tom and Maddie exchange a few Looks, apparently having an entire silent conversation, before Maddie speaks up again.

“You mentioned you’ve been having nightmares,” she says. “Do you think you could talk more about that?”

A shudder runs through him. But if Maddie thinks it might help….well. He can at least try.

“Last night I had a dream that I was fighting Robotnik again and I tried using the lightning thing but it - backfired? And instead of hurting him, it hurt….everyone else. And everyone was just lying there, and no one was moving, and then I woke up and there was all this static and I didn’t know what to do so I just...ran. That’s always been the solution! But...I guess not this time?”

“I used to have nightmares a lot as a kid,” Tom says. “And whenever I did, I’d go to my mom, and wake her up, and I’d tell her about my dream and we’d talk about how it wasn’t real, and she’d let me sleep in her bed if I needed. Next time, when you have a nightmare, do you think you could try that?”

“I don’t wanna bother you,” Sonic mumbles, fidgeting with his hands.

“It’s not bothering us. If something’s upsetting you, we wanna know, so we can help,” Tom says.

“Do you really think it’ll help?”

“Well, it helped me. I can’t make any promises, but do you think you could try?”

“I can try,” he says.

“And maybe, if you’d be okay with it, you could tell us more about stuff before you moved in with us?” Tom asks. “No pressure, but it can be good to get stuff off your chest.”

Sonic looks down at himself. “Like my fur?”

Maddie laughs. “It’s a metaphor. It means to get your feelings and thoughts out, basically.”

“Oh. Uh….maybe? What do you wanna know?”

Tom and Maddie exchange another Look.

“It’s not about what we wanna know,” Maddie says. “It’s about helping you feel better. Talking about traumatic things that happened can help, but only if you’re okay with talking about it.”

“We don’t wanna push you,” Tom adds.

There’s so much he could share. Tom and Maddie were there for the whole Robotnik stuff, but they barely know anything about Before. And he doesn’t really want to change that. He doesn’t want to talk about how it’s his fault he’s on Earth in the first place, or how he’s been basically stalking everyone for years, or how he’s been alone for so long he barely knows how to exist around other people.

“Can’t we just….erase all that stuff? Pretend it never happened?”

“I wish, kiddo. But that’s not how it works. If you don’t talk about stuff, it just sits in your head and gets worse.”

Sonic huffs, looking away from Tom and Maddie. “...maybe later,” he says, quietly.

“You don’t have to do it today,” Maddie says. “Just let us know when you’re ready.”

He nods. “Could we maybe….do something else, now?”

Tom nods. “You wanna watch a movie? Your choice.”

Sonic grins, already knowing what he wants to watch.

Later, he’ll have to talk to them. And maybe it actually will help - he certainly hopes it will. But right now...Right now, just the knowledge that he has a family and that they won’t give up on him is help enough. Being sandwiched in between Tom and Maddie - in between his parents - it occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, he’ll actually be okay after all.

#sonic movie #sonic 2020 #sonic the hedgehog #sonic wachowski #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #cora writes #ats tag #after the storm.

[kyosohmastan]

Here’s the first chapter of a fic I started. As I have expressed, I’m a ridiculously mega fan of Taylor Swift. I think this blog is 20% a Taylor fan blog tbh lol. So I came up with this fun idea that Taylor somehow takes over Tohru’s body and life and how the guys would preceive that. So this is going to be chaotic.

I’m putting it on A03 later once I’m a few chapters in just in case I need to touch anything up since I don’t outline. But here’s the rough draft exclusively for here if you would like to check it out~

Title: (I don’t have one yet but I’ll concern myself with it later)

Rating: T

Words (ch 1): 1,811

I’m too tired to open my eyes, even though I’m awake. If I could get in five minutes before I have to get ready, that might be enough to leave me refreshed. Probably not. I haven’t gotten enough sleep since I was sixteen. But I can’t bail on the show tonight for being too tired. That was an unspoken rule.

I turn over, kind of surprised the girls haven’t awaken me. They’re usually begging for breakfast right now. “Meredith?” I murmur, stroking the duvet for any signs of fur. “Olivia?”

 I finally open my eyes, seeing a pillow, sheets, a white nightstand...that isn’t mine. Puzzled, I sit up, getting a full scope of the room. What in the world? There’s so much pink in here, when my L.A bedroom is mostly white. There isn’t a cat in sight. 

“Benjamin?” I try again, wondering if they teleported here with me. All there is is silence. I get up, open the curtains, and gaze upon yards of forest when I should be looking at the bustling view of Beverly Hills. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong since way long ago, since the moment I opened my eyes. Did the rosé from last night hit too hard and I crashed at one of my team members' places? That must be it. I’ll just go see them and apologize. 

I head to the door, passing by a full length mirror on the wall on the way. I stop, taking a double take. The girl who looks at me has long brunette hair. I did not dye my hair. She looks young, teenager young. This isn’t me, but when I lift a hand to my face, the reflection follows. This isn’t possible. It’s got to be some type of dream. But as I touch my-...this girl’s face, I can feel it vividly. My mouth drops on an inaudible scream, and I scurry away from the mirror and out the door. 

The breath is knocked out of me as I land on something solid. A body? No. It’s a cat. An orange cat is beneath me, but it isn’t one of my cats. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. What an adorable kitty. He stares up at me, a little befuddled. I’ve never seen a cat that expressive.

“Oh my gosh,” I giggle, pick it up, and squeeze him to me. “So cute!!! Where did you come from, little guy?” 

“Nani?” Something said aggressively. The cat? 

No. Not possible. I look around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Who said that?”

“Tohru!” It says. It’s definitely coming from the cat. His voice rumbles against my arms as I hold him. He says something in a foreign language that I can’t understand.

At once, I drop him, letting out a scream that I should have made ever since I found myself in this body. How could things be getting even weirder? 

I drop him, scooting back against the wall. “I-I’m so confused. What’s happening?”

A puff of orange smoke fills the hallway and I cough through it. As I peer within it, a body replaces where the cat just was. A naked body of a boy. Horrified, I turn my head away, left with even more questions.

He maneuvers to the room on the other side of the hallway and comes back a minute later dressed in a uniform.

Now that he’s clothed, I get a look at him. He’s tall with limbs slightly elongated to show he must still be growing, and he has gorgeous orange hair that I haven’t seen on anyone besides Ed. It’s the same color as the cat’s. He’s the cat? I can’t grasp the idea. Lord knows I’m still dreaming.

He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing, saying something that I can’t understand again.

I think that’s japanese. I know a little bit from my travels to Japan on tours but only the basics. “I don’t understand,” I reply

His brows raise. He looks more confused than I am, if that’s possible. “English?” he says.

I nod, reacting as skittish as if I was in front of a ten foot tall monster. He’s anything but. He is...wow, he’s super hot. But he has to be no older than seventeen. No. Can’t think like that. That’s gross.

“When...you speak english?” 

“Um...since forever?” I respond. His english is broken, but he clearly knows a little. Still, I need to find someone fluent and ask them what’s going on, if they even know. Wait. Does this mean I’m in Japan? Or I suppose this could still be L.A. There is a very diverse amount of people here.

He kneels, taking my hand and hauling me up from the ground. I stand on wobbling legs. “Sick?” he asks.

“Huh? No. Or maybe? I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who I am.”

His brows furrow more and more with each word I sputter out. His reply is indecipherable to me again. I’m only making him more frustrated in return. His voice is so aggressive.

I hate that I’m losing patience. I want to cry because I’m so confused, terrified, and worried that I hit my head on something. I must be blacked out right now and in a coma. Or I’m hallucinating all of this. “I don’t understand!” 

He sighs and holds his hands up. “Okay. Get dressed. We...figure it out…” He leaves down the stairs.

I can’t bring myself to move. So much is out of whack that I feel dizzy. Body swapping is impossible. It’s a cliche concept that you only see in sci-fi movies. Not in real life. I go back into the room and stumble to the closet. There’s a plethora of blouses and skirts with a few dresses sprinkled about. Not a pair of pants or shorts in sight. Flipping through the blouses, I can tell  whoever this girl is (Tohru?) and I have a very similar taste in style. It’s kind of refreshing that I can’t find any high-end brands. I can’t remember the last time I wore something just...normal. 

She has three pairs of two types of uniforms. Her school must use uniforms. Is it a school day? I take the navy blue blazer and matchin skirt off the hanger and work on taking off my pajamas, then I put it on. I double check myself in the mirror. She looks adorable. No kidding, I’ve never seen a cuter girl. I comb my fingers through my hair to fix it, then leave down the stairs, completely lost once I hit the landing. I follow the sounds of voices that I still can’t understand. There’s three of them, including the cat boy, at a kotatsu. They’re just as pleasing to look at. The one in the kimono looks to be around my age, and the one with the silver hair has an aura of sadness lingering around him that is somewhat contagious. The orange haired boy looks concerned as he watches me sit with them, before turning to the man and speaking in japanese with the same worry.

The man nods, turning his attention to me. “Good morning, Tohru-kun. How are you doing this morning?” he says in english, and immediately relief settles in me since I can finally understand someone. 

“Good...I think,” I reply. Nothing is going good.

“Is that so?” he inquires. “Kyo-kun thinks you seem a little off.”

Cat boy? I turn my head towards where he’s sitting adjacent to me, slowly sipping from a bowl of soup. I’m sure I must be acting nothing like this Tohru. It’s no wonder they’re concerned.

“Why do you think I’m acting differently?” I ask, knowing full well the reason. It’s a debate whether to tell them I’m someone else. How do you tell someone you’re another person in this body? Especially since they know Tohru. 

“First of all, you took.. so long getting dressed that I...had to make breakfast. You have never skipped out on making meals unless....you are sick,” Kyo says, slowly struggling through his english by taking long pauses.  

I swallow down my guilt as he continues, although I wasn’t aware. “You suddenly don’t remember how to speak japanese. You freaked out like...it was the first time again when...I transformed. You are wearing the fall uniform when it is spring.”

I don’t bother touching my food, even though it looks devine. He must be a good cook. I don’t know what to say to that.

The silver haired boy says something in their language, and I draw my attention to him. 

“He said you are not...wearing your ribbons,” Kyo translates. 

“My ribbons? In my hair?” I ask.

Kyo nods, observing me like I’m a foreign creature. 

This isn’t going to fly. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not, at least someone I’m not on the inside. But they see right through me, especially Kyo as it seems. I freeze, twiddling my fingers under the kotatsu as I speed through ideas in my head on what to do. 

I could just tell them the truth. They might not believe me. I’m still having trouble believing it myself, but it would explain why Tohru seems off. It’d probably be easier if I told the truth anyway.

But...this could be my chance to live another life. I didn’t think of that until now. When have I ever been given the opportunity to just be normal? I’ve been constantly watched for fourteen years. I can’t even remember what it’s like to live normally. But especially after all that’s happened in the past few years..I want that.

So I lie. And I loathe myself for it. “I must have forgotten them! I’m sorry. I am feeling a bit off today.”

“Are you sick?” The man asks. “Maybe it would be better if you stayed home from school.”

God, school sounds so fun. I haven’t been to school in ages. I never even got a proper graduation. “No, I’m good. I’m just not in a good headspace. I’ll get better.”

Kyo is still leering at me. He seems to be the harder one of the bunch to convince. He feels my forehead, and my cheeks heat. That’s not going to help prove my case. “No fever,” he says. “I guess you’re fine then.”

“Right!” I respond. “Should we get going? Don’t want to be late!”

Yuki stands before I finish and Kyo follows. “Let’s go. Did you...forget your bag too?”

“Oh, I did!” I didn’t. I didn’t know I needed it. I skipped up the stairs. This is still wildly confusing and bizarre...but I’m going to school. I’m going to step into a place so forbidden to me to venture out to on my own. At this point, nothing is impossible anymore.

#Fruits Basket #furuba #kyo sohma #yuki sohma #shigure sohma #Tohru Honda #fruits basket fanfic #fruits basket fanfiction #taylor swift

[twdeadfanfic]

Where’s my mind

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Reader has manic-depressive disorder, and she has run out of meds, which makes it hard to control it, and hard to control the way she feels and the way in which it changes, no matter Daryl tries to help. Angs, hurt/comfort, sad  one-shot, inspired by the prompts  Maybe you should fuck yourself” and “There’s nothing wrong with you”, Requested by @feartheendlesssummer

3334 words

I hope I did the requests justice, I tried...

...........................................................................................

You hummed as you sorted things in one of the cells of the freshly cleared cellblock, getting them ready to become rooms. You didn’t notice Daryl walking past the cell, and he stopped when he heard you, walking into the cell, a tiny but smile on his face.

“You seem in a good mood.”

You looked up when you heard his voice and smiled. “How wouldn’t I? We found this place, it’s safe, it has fences and walls…” Sure, you still needed to clear more areas and whatnot, but it was the best thing since you lost the farm. “It’s all we hoped for.”

“Guess so.” Daryl nodded. “What were you singing anyway?”

“I don’t sing, I hum. Let the singing to Beth and Maggie.” You shrugged. “Just a song I used to like…what’s your favourite song.”

“Dunno.”

“Come on, think harder.” You giggled.

“Why you care?” Daryl grumbled and you let out a sigh.

Even though you both had been friends for a while, getting to know Daryl and have him sharing things about himself was still like pulling teeth most times, no matter how much you wanted to know him better. He was your favourite person, you were sure, he’d become so during that horrible winter, no matter than when you met back at the quarry you could hardly stand him. A lot had changed since then.

“Just…I told Beth what was my favourite song, and she and Maggie sang it for me…thought they could do the same for you.” You shrugged, feeling a bit silly now. Daryl seemed shy but he gave you a small smile.

“Don’t think I have a favourite one.”

“Well, if something springs to mind just tell me.” You grinned again.

“Okay…gonna see if Rick needs me to do something.”

“You work too much! Just relax for a day…look at this place” You waved around at the sturdy walls. “We’re safe. This place is perfect. I think things are going to go great for us for now on. I can feel it!”

It felt so good, finally having hope again. You thought Daryl was going to roll his eyes at you or something, but he just smiled at you, reaching to pat your arm before leaving.

*

Of course, you shouldn’t have had hope. You should have known by now that nothing could go well in this world. Everything you wished for always turned into ashes, nothing ever went right while everything that could go wrong, went wrong. You’d been so stupid. What was the point on trying to find happiness in this world.

Hershel had been bitten, and Rick’d been forced to cut off his leg. You’d found people in that prison, convicts who didn’t seem friendly at all. And endless corridors and rooms full of walkers. This prison wasn’t heaven, now it seemed like hell, but you were trapped in it because the outside was just a deeper level of hell. There wasn’t hope anywhere.

“Hey, you okay?” You had been so lost in your head you didn’t even notice Daryl walking into your cell until he sat down next to you on the bed, squeezing your shoulder ever so softly. “Y/N?”

You shrugged, still hugging your knees to your chest as you looked at the wall in front of you without seeing it.

“Hershel’s going to be okay. He’ll get through it.” Daryl reassured you and you didn’t say anything. It was a miracle he’d survived the bite, sure, but what was he going to do missing a leg? How was he going to run away when needed? You couldn’t still think that any place in this world could be safe enough, not even this prison…you didn’t say it aloud though, as it seemed too cruel.

“Those convicts, they could murder us in our sleep, same with walkers, they’re everywhere,” you said instead. It was true too.

“No, we have the cellblock closed, there’s always someone on watch. The convicts won’t dare, and walkers can’t get in.” Daryl assured you and you just shrugged. They’d find a way, they always did. “We start clearing the walkers tomorrow.”

You shook your head. Someone was bound to end up dead doing so, you could see it. Maybe everyone. You’d been losing people slowly but surely. There wasn’t another outcome. But none would listen to you. There was no point.

“I’m tired,” you murmured, shifting to lie down on the bed.

For a couple of minutes, Daryl didn’t say anything, just looked at you, before getting up from the bed. “Okay,” he whispered, reaching out to brush his knuckles over your arm ever so softly. In any other moment, that gesture would have made you beyond happy, but right then, you didn’t even notice it.

*

You were ashamed of yourself. Everyone’d been working all morning while you did nothing but mop in bed. Even Hershel was working, missing leg and all. Rick had kept up the plan to clear other cellblocks, and what was the point on saying it was crazy, none would listen to you. None ever did. None cared about what you thought, about the sensible thing. So you didn’t even bother to say anything, and just kept mopping in your cell.

But you were done with that. You were angry at everyone for never listening, for ignoring you, for getting in risk without thinking it twice, as if they didn’t care who they left behind. You wouldn’t be surprised they didn’t care about you, though, it seemed like so half the time. They all were so close…had you every fit in? You didn’t think so, not now that you thought about it.

But why would they care anyway? It wasn’t like you contributed to anything, you did nothing, and today was just another proof. There you were doing nothing. Over everything, you were angry at yourself for that, more than you were at the others. You had to move your ass and do something. There was a cellblock they hadn’t cleared yet, you could see it from your small window. Taking your knife, you made your way to it.

You got into the cellblock, closing the door behind you, the sun that came through the small windows dimly illuminating the place. It didn’t seem to be any walker there, but when you hit your knife against the metal railing you heard their growls, and soon several of them poured from the corridor that led into the cellblock.

You charged against them, viciously sinking your knife into their heads with anger and frustration, not caring that soon they were too many for you. You barely registered the door opening and then Daryl rushing in, putting down walker after walker with the knife too until he managed to close the door of the corridor to stop them from getting in.

“Are you crazy?!” He all but yelled at you, and you didn’t know if he looked more angry, worried, or scared.

“What if I am!” You snapped back, wrapping your arms around yourself, and Daryl just scoffed, shaking his head.

“What was that, what were you thinking?!”

“You wanted to clear this place, didn’t you? That’s what I’m doing.” You shrugged, considering just walk past Daryl and go for the walkers again, maybe lock the door behind you so Daryl couldn’t follow you. You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to see anyone. You just wanted to kill the walkers. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?

“You can’t go alone like that!” Daryl shouted at you in disbelieve. “They would have killed you!”

“What if they did?” You snapped back. Would have been a great loss? Sure nobody thought that. You weren’t even sure if you think it yourself. Daryl just looked at you, seeming dumbfounded and at loss of words, and you scoffed, turning over and rushing out of the cellblock.

“Y/N! Y/N, hey, wait!” Daryl ran after you and somehow it just made you angrier. “Maybe you should-”

“Maybe you should go fuck yourself?” You snapped, glaring at him, ready for him to snap back, to yell at you, you welcomed it. But he didn’t. Daryl just stared at you, seeming taken aback, but he didn’t yell, didn’t say anything at all.

“What? You got nothing to say all of a sudden?” You kept pushing. “I don’t need you babysitting me, I don’t need you pretending to be a hero and coming to save the day, I just don’t need you!” You yelled at him and you knew he was angry but Daryl looked down and didn’t say anything, didn’t yell back. Some part of your mind registered that you’d hurt him, and remorse pierced through your heart painfully, but you couldn’t stop. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, I don’t want anything to do with you!”

With that, you turned around again and rushed away, hiding into the first unlocked watchtower that you could find, away from everyone.

*

You felt horrible. You couldn’t believe you’d yelled all that to Daryl. He’d been trying to help, as always, you didn’t deserve it and yet he always took care of you, and you paid him like that. You were the worst. You didn’t deserve anyone’s care, and you didn’t deserve that group. You did nothing to contribute, you were just dead weight, and now you were rude to them too. You didn’t even know why they hadn’t kicked you out yet. Or how Daryl hadn’t snapped at you or yelled at you. Maybe they didn’t care enough. It’d be normal.

Daryl was right, those walkers would have devoured you, but he should have let them do it. There was no point on you staying with that group, they didn’t deserve to have to deal with you. If they didn’t send you away, then you would. Maybe that way you’d do at least one helpful thing, maybe you could do right to the group at least for once.

But you needed to apologize to Daryl first.

You found him sat down on top of a table, smoking, and when you approached him he didn’t look at you. He must be angry at you, you would, probably he wouldn’t want to see you ever again. You deserved it.

“I’m sorry…” You apologized weakly, feeling tears in your eyes. “What I said before…I’m sorry, it wasn’t true, I didn’t mean it.” You wished so much Daryl didn’t believe any of those horrible things you had said. “I’m really sorry.”

You expected Daryl to snap, to yell at you, to tell you to leave him again and never talk to him, but he didn’t, he just nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You frowned, confused. It wasn’t okay. “I was horrible. Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

Daryl just shrugged. “Don’t want to…”

“Then what do you want?” Maybe he didn’t care enough to yell, maybe nothing you could say could bother him, because you were nothing to him. Maybe. You still felt like you needed punishment, though, and yet he wasn’t yelling how horrible you were. Maybe all he wanted was you to leave him alone.

“Just…just want to know what’s going on with you.” Daryl finally looked at you but you averted his eyes, feeling a lump in your throat. You were the worst and yet he was kind. You didn’t deserve it. You needed to leave those people, stop being a weight, stop making them worry about you. It’d be better if you weren’t there.

“I…I…just wanted to say sorry.” You whispered before rushing to retreat into the watchtower again.

Once it was dark outside, you left your hiding spot and walked to a spot on the fence that you knew you could open, hoping whoever was taking watch wouldn’t see you. It took you a bit but you found the spot, that tiny opening in the fence that Rick had closed with wire. You began trying to unwrap it, cursing under your breath as it was harder than you’d thought it would.

“What’re you doing?” Daryl’s voice made you jump and you turned around to find him right behind you, though you hadn’t even noticed him. “Where you going?”You just looked at him like a deer in headlights. “Y/N?”

“I’m leaving,” you finally managed to say, turning away from Daryl to fumble with the wire, though your fingers were shaking too much.

“Where to?” Daryl asked you without trying to stop you. Maybe he didn’t care. Or maybe he knew you weren’t getting even close to opening the fence.

“Away.” You tugged at the wire, frustrated, but it didn’t relent.

“Why?”

“What’s the point on me being here?” You snapped, hating how your voice broke. “I’m good for nothing, always been. I’m just a weight for all of you, you’d be better without me here dragging all of you down. None deserves to deal with my shit…and you less than anyone.”

“Quit saying bullshit,” Daryl replied, voice soft despite the harsh words.

“It’s not bullshit, it’s true!” You rubbed your eyes thought tears fell down your eyes anyway. “I’m a mess…everything’s wrong…none of you deserve to deal with this, just no.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

More tears fell down your eyes at Daryl’s words and you shook your head. “You know nothing.”

“Then tell me.”

You shook your head again, rubbed your eyes, and began fumbling with the wire again. “I’m leaving, everything will be better without me here, you’ll see.”

“You know I’m not letting you.” Daryl grabbed your arms, pulling you away from the fence, but you flinched away.

“What you care!”

“You know I do. Everyone does.” Daryl looked down before locking eyes with you again and reaching out her hand. “Come on, let’s go back inside. You need to sleep.” You shook your head, chocking out a whimper.

“I know what I have to do.”

“Alright then.”

Before you knew what was happening or could do anything to stop it, Daryl was grabbing you again, and you yelped as he threw you over his shoulder, turning back to the cellblock.

“What the hell!” You kicked your legs but Daryl just held them tighter and when you punched his shoulder he just ignored you. “Daryl! Let me go!”

“You’ll wake the ones that are asleep,” was the only thing he said, though it silenced you. The idea of the others seeing you like this, seeing the mess you were, it was too shameful. If someone was awake and show Daryl carrying you like that while you cried, if he told them everything you’d done that day…everyone would think all kinds of things of you, and you deserved it but you felt tears in your eyes again anyway.

“I’ll walk. Let me down, I’ll go back to my cell, I’ll go by myself.”You begged. “I’ll do.”

Daryl seemed to think it for a couple of seconds but then he stopped, letting go of you but pushed you towards the cellblock. When he looked at you, though, his face softened, and he let out a sigh before reaching out to gently wipe your tears with his kunckless. “Come on.” His hand in your back guided you gently but firmly into the cellblock.

To your relief, everyone seemed to be inside their cells, and Daryl walked you to yours, gently pushing you inside. You looked at him but didn’t know what to say, and Daryl opened his mouth as if to say anything but didn’t, leaving the cell. You sat down on your bed, suddenly feeling numb, though a noise outside your cell caught your attention.

Daryl had taken his sleeping bag from the perch in which he slept and had placed at the corridor outside your cell. Not knowing what to do, you get into your bed, curling onto yourself, that feeling of numbness getting bigger, taking over you.

*

When you woke up the next morning, you were hit by the events of the day before. You were beyond ashamed. You couldn’t believe you’d been like that, the things you had said, the things you had done and tried to do. What have you been thinking? You pulled the sheets to cover you up to your head, hiding. You didn’t think you could ever leave that cell again…why would everyone think of you? What would Daryl think? You were such a mess. You were embarrassed you had thrown yourself at walkers like that and then tried to leave…though who knew, maybe you should have done it…

“Y/N,” Daryl’s voice called for you softly, but you didn’t move, and you felt him sitting down on the bed. “Y/N,” he tried again, this time tugging at the sheet carefully to uncover your head. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going o with you?”

You didn’t even know how, and tears filled your eyes again. “I’m a mess. Everything’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, told you so.”

You shook your head, curling onto yourself, your back to Daryl. You couldn’t face him. You didn’t want to leave that bed ever again. You thought you might be asleep again and dreaming when suddenly you felt Daryl curling up next to you and tentatively wrapping his arm around you.

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help but whisper in shock.

“Sorry,” he muttered, quickly pulling away and trying to get up, but you were faster, grabbing his arm.

“No, please. Stay.” You pulled at him to make him lie down next to you again and Daryl let you, so you curled up again, keeping Daryl’s arm around you.

“Talk to me,” he told you quietly. You didn’t even know where to start.

“My mind is a mess. My brain is all messed up. It’s been, for years now. Just…don't have medication anymore…” You’d been raiding drugstores, pharmacies, everything you could, but a couple of weeks ago, you finally had run out of it. “So I can’t help…all of this. I’m a disaster. I just don’t even know how I feel half of the time, I can’t control it…” It seemed now that you had begun talking, you couldn’t stop yourself. “I hate it, but I don’t know what to do, I just can’t help it, I can’t stop it. I’m a disaster.

“You ain’t,” Daryl whispered back. “What can I do?”

You couldn’t help your sad smile at that, and you placed your hand on top of Daryl’s, lacing your fingers with his. “Nothing. And I…I just don’t want anyone to have to deal with this shit…so maybe it’d be better if I weren’t here.”

“No. Not happening,” Daryl said firmly.

“I can’t stop it, Daryl, I can’t help it. Can’t tell you I won’t be like yesterday again.” You turned onto your back so you could look at him. “I can’t tell you it’ll get better because I don’t think it will. And I just…I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“I’m sorry that you have to go through all that.” Daryl’s arm held you a bit tighter. “But you got me, and everyone else. Whatever your brain says, we care for you. I care for you…you ain’t gonna go through this alone. I got you okay? I ain’t gonna let anything hurt you, not even your brain.”

You smiling sadly, trying to believe his words, no matter you couldn’t, it was sweet. Most of you still felt like you didn’t deserve it and yet…yet you wished you did. You snuggled closer to Daryl, repeating his words in your head, trying to believe them, because you knew you were going to need it.

Maybe you could have hope in the future, maybe things will be okay. Maybe you weren’t a mess. Maybe your place was there, with your people. Maybe you weren’t alone, maybe you weren’t a burden. Maybe your people cared for you. Daryl did.

You tried to believe it all, as Daryl kept whispering it to you, making it easier.

 .......................................................................................

I’m sorry if it was all wrong or didn’t make sense, but I tried. At anyr ate, I hope you could enjoy it.

If you have a moment, please drop me acomment and let me know your thoughts.

As always, english is not my mother language, so sorry if there are mistakes.

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[abigailmaitland]

The Run Away - AM one shot.

Bex and Bowie are surprised to see Bex’ car missing at ten at night and their daughter’s empty bed. Where could Andi have gone and why would she have ever wanted to leave in the first place?

It was ten pm and Bex was sprawled across the couch asleep. Is this what being an adult was like? She felt hands shaking her awake and she groaned, trying to bury her face in the cushions in a feeble attempt to escape.

“Bex -” Bowie’s voice whispered in her ear. “Wake up.” “I don’t wanna,”  “Come on, I have something to tell you. Besides, I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch all night.” “Fine.” She said, slowly sitting up, her eyes half open. It was hard to tell who was more tired between the two. Bowie had picked up a second job as a cook in a semi-formal restaurant, but Bex was cooking something too. “I really appreciate that you made me lunch -” “You interrupted my sleep to tell me that?” She whined. “You could’ve just told me that tomorrow morning.” “Oh no, there’s more -” a chuckle escaped his mouth. “I really appreciate that you packed lunch for me, but...um, are you trying to put me on a diet or something?” Her eyebrows crinkled together. “No...I made you a sandwich, an infamous carb-heavy lunch.” “No,” he drew out. “You gave me two slices of bread. There was no cheese, there was no meat - just...bread. Not even any mayo.” “Uh, oops -” Bex grimaced. “This damn pregnancy brain, huh?” “It’s awful,” He laughed. “But it’s cool, my coworkers had a huge laugh and they all pitched in to buy me a hoagie from next door.” “Great. They either think we’re completely broke or they think I’m an evil wife who is trying to starve her husband to death,” she rolled her eyes, but a small chuckle escaped her mouth. She remembered when she was pregnant with Andi, her worst episode of forgetfulness resulted in her sobbing at a doctor’s office because she forgot her birthday. 

“Oh, by the way, I didn’t see your car. Did you park in the circle tonight?” “No, I parked in my usual spot…” suddenly her eyes widened, tears springing to her eyes. “Do you think someone stole my car?” Bowie rubbed her shoulders. “Yes -” he started. “But I don’t think it was a criminal...Andi usually comes out of her room to at least wave to me when I get home…” “I didn’t hear her leave…” “Bex, you wouldn’t hear an elephant crashing through our bedroom window,” he rolled his eyes, then headed towards his daughter’s room, knocking twice before turning the doorknob. “She’s not here. Where do you think she’d be? Do you think she made plans and we just forgot?” “Definitely not,” Bex shook her head, starting to stand up and search for her phone. “She knows the rules. A text message when she leaves the house and another one when she arrives at her location safe - and she knows not to take my car without asking.” she found her phone halfway under the couch. She opened it and saw no messages. “You call Buffy, I’ll call Cyrus?”

Bowie was already unlocking his phone to do so.

“Hey - have you seen Andi?” Both parents asked, synchronized.. “No?” Their tone incredulous. Andi told them everything.

If Buffy knew anything, she didn’t budge. Bowie sighed, then tusselled his hair. His heart was practically beating out of his chest. Where was she? “Well if you hear anything, please let me know.”

Meanwhile, Bex refused to take no for an answer. “Cyrus Samuel Goodman, it’s ten pm and I don’t know where my child is. Yesterday I yelled at a produce worker that he was ruining my life because all of the avocados were too squishy. Then I sobbed. I am in a volatile state of hormone-induced emotions. So again, Cyrus, have you seen Andi?”

“No,” Cyrus repeated firmly. He wasn’t lying. “But uh...okay, I know where she went.” “Then please, by all means, spill.” she replied, in what sounded like to Cyrus, a tone that was both sweet and threatening. Bex was usually seen as a cool, laidback parent, so to hear her this way was practically chilling. ________________________________________________________________

It was nearly an hour’s drive to a small cabin by a lake in a neighboring town, Woodhurst. The entire ride Bex was fuming. What the hell was her plan? To just steal their car and run away to Cyrus’ parents’ summer cabin? How long was she planning to camp there? Why did she decide to do this?

“We made stupid choices when we were teens too,” Bowie reminded her. “I never ran away to a cabin in a different town, though.” “If you had a friend willing to give you their parent’s keys, you probably would have.” “No this is beyond ridiculous.” “Look, I don’t think this was a good choice. I don’t want to condone this - I just think it’s important we don’t go in guns blazing. That treatment from our parents just made us more impulsive.” Well, Bex really couldn’t argue that point. The more strict Cece got, the more rebellious Bex became. “I’m just...pissed, Bowie! She scared us half to death.” “Yeah, I am too, but I’m more disappointed she for some reason felt the need to do this.” He parked the car in the driveway. The two slammed the car doors shut and stood on the porch. They looked at each other, then each took a deep breath and began knocking incessantly on the door.

Andi stood on the other side. Deep down, she knew they would come to find her. Besides Cyrus immediately texted her that he accidentally told. Still, a part of her was surprised they even noticed she was gone in the first place.

“Go away!”  “Andi, let us in now!” Bex demanded. “Why should I?” “Because we’re your parents and we just want to talk to you.” Bowie tried. She hesitated, then opened the door. Her parents came barreling in. “I don’t want to go home.” “But why?” he asked, his tone soft. Andi shrugged. “You wouldn’t understand.” “Damn right we wouldn’t!” Bex raised her voice, much to Bowie’s chagrin. “This is - god, this tops the worst thing I’ve ever done!” “Bex!” he scolded. Andi scoffed. “See, this is why I didn’t want to let you guys in.” “This is just ridiculous, Andi, you stole my car and drove an hour away without telling us - why the hell would you make such a stupid choice?” She rolled her eyes. “This just isn’t how we raised you, Andi and I want to understand!” “Funny, I didn’t think you raised me at all.”

Whatever words Bex had been planning to say next disappeared. It felt like a ton of bricks hit her chest. Her mouth was left agape.

“Andi - ” Bowie started. “No, I don’t want to hear it.” Andi said. “It’s not fair.” “What isn’t fair, Andi?” Bex pleaded, finding her voice. “Don’t pretend like you guys are stupid! I spent 13 years of my life being raised by my grandparents, not knowing I had a mother who abandoned me and a father who didn’t know I existed,” Yeah, old wounds. She knew she should’ve been over it, but how could you just forget it all happened and pretend everything was okay? She still thought about it at night, tossing and turning. Sure, she forgave, but she still struggled. “And then you come back into my life and turn it upside down! And yeah, I learned to deal with it and it was fine. I was even happy - but then a year after you two get married, Bowie starts to work an extra job so I barely get to see him and then you tell me at my own art show that you want another baby and it’s like I disappeared. But it’s whatever, now you’re going to have a new baby and you two are going to raise it and create the happy little life you didn’t get to have with me because...because you and Cece chose to be selfish! When I look at baby pictures and family portraits, all I see are lies and it isn’t fair...this baby...this baby, it’ll have a normal life.” she flopped down on the couch. “Just admit it, this is a do-over baby because you messed up with me, Bex, and Bowie, you can’t stand the fact that you didn’t get to raise me at all.” tears welled up in her eyes - she had been holding it in for so long. She loved her parents, she really did, and though her story was less than conventional, she loved her life - but she kept her feelings bottled up for so long that she couldn’t help but burst at some point.

The two parents were silent, staring at each other, unsure of what to say. They had never seen Andi quite this way, but it reminded Bex of...herself. She sat beside Andi and Bowie followed suit. 

“Andi...you already know I regret leaving you,” she practically whispered, her throat dry. “If I could change one thing in the world, it’d be that, okay? But this baby...it’s never going to replace you.” she put her hand over her daughter’s. “You are my baby. Always. And I am so immensely proud of who you are, you are so much...much more than I ever imagined when I was pregnant with you. More beautiful, more creative, more wonderful...”

“And ever since I learned you existed, my universe has become infinitely better. I know sharing sucks, but we’re not trying to replace you. We could never do that and we would never want to - no one can be you better than you. We just have so much love to give, Andi, and you’re going off to college soon and the idea of an empty house terrifies us. When we were talking about having another child, one of the biggest factors we considered was you. We just knew you were going to be an amazing sister.” Bowie finished.

Guilt had sunk into Andi’s chest. She realized how awful she had been and how rash her decision was. She always knew they loved her - she was just...angry and jealous. She nodded slowly. “I’m...sorry. I just...felt so ignored and felt like I was going to be replaced.” 

“Your feelings are understandable,” Bowie said. “Your actions are not.” Bex said.  “You’re totally grounded.” Bowie agreed.  “Yeah...I probably deserve that.”

#andi mack #re; my writing

[thoseofgreatambition]

silk

description: fred weasley likes you in silk, and being a man of action, provides a means to see you in it more often. 

pairing: fred x fem!reader 

warnings: pg-13. very teasy. very sexual. if you’re on my taglist and i know you’re a minor you weren’t tagged.

a/n: i've had this idea for a long time as many of my friend's would say, and i’m excited to write it! this is quite similar to lace by @siriuslyimmoony​ which you should read right now! i’ve spoken to marissa about this and she’s given the go ahead so go read lace by her and follow her as well, she’s a fantastic writer! this is also sort of a request from the lovely @haipiranha​ who you should also check out

taglist: @scumbagjoker @rexster10 @oh-the-snowinthemoonlight @geeksareunique @moonlitdiggory @phantomhive-shadow @thephelpstwins @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @yourslytherinprincess  @dramatic-and-young @starlitfawkes @blusnowflakee @l-am-tired @lovelaughlivesmilebright @wizardingworldwaitforme @imaginethis-st @xinyourdreamsx @velvetdownfall @marauderskeeper @dwarfwizard-from-panem @haipiranha @spooky-mulderr @rochelle-the-ravenclaw

Fred liked to buy you clothes. Even when you insisted that you didn’t need them, he liked to buy you nice clothes. 

It was for two reasons really. 

One, he’d always wanted to be able to give out nice things when he was a boy, and now that he was a man who ran a rather successful shop he finally had he means to do so. If he saw you eying something while you were out together then he’d be sure to find it for you if he could, and if he noticed there was a certain style you liked he was sure to find something like it fro you. 

Two, because it could be said that he was entirely turned on at the idea of you wearing silk, and was overwhelmingly lucky that you happened to like to wear that as well. 

So, like any wise man, Fred had been sure to give you many gifts of silk clothes when he could. 

It’d worked for quite some time. 

Until he’d watched as you were sorting through your closet for what to donate for spring cleaning. He watched as your brow knitted together and realized that he’d been found out as you grouped all of Fred’s gifts together and realized that about eighty percent of them were silk. 

Part of him was embarrassed really, and the other part of him had absolutely no regrets about any choice he had made. 

“Freddie?” 

“Yes Y/N?” 

You chewed your lip as you worked over what you were seeing twice to make sure that you were seeing it correctly, “Why is almost everything you’ve gotten me silk?” Looking back towards Fred and his knowing smirk you found out your answer before you heard it. 

“You look so pretty dressed up in silk for me.” 

There was a twitch in your lip as you tried not to smile. 

“You’re a pervert Fred Weasley.” 

“Lovey if you haven’t realized that by now, after all that you and I have done to each other, it’s not my fault.” he let out a rather large laugh as you tossed one of your dresses at him, and you watched as he spread it over his lap and caressed the smooth fabric. There was a slightly more serious tone to his voice, “Does it bother you that’s part of why I got you those things?” 

Quickly you shook your head-- sure, silk now made up about a quarter of your closet, but that wasn’t a bad thing. 

Perhaps a tad impractical for winter in England, but that was okay. “No-- I like silk, and I like what you got me.” Fred’s shoulders relaxed a bit and you saw the easygoing smile return to him once again.

“‘ts good to hear that.” 

“You could’ve told me about this you know-- I think it’d have been easier than you slowly dominating my wardrobe...” your voice trailed off as you began to sort through the clothing once again, deciding what you did and didn’t want to keep. “Did’ja think I wouldn’t be on board?” 

Fred shook his head, “No-- I reckoned you would. It’s a lot tamer than the other stuff we do...” there was more laughter as you tossed another garment at him-- a coat this time. “I like getting you things! I like seeing you get all excited. Didn’t want you to think that I was getting you things just because I thought they were sexy and not because I thought you’d like them.” 

You let out a tiny hum-- you could understand why he might worry about that. “No, you don’t need to worry about that Freddie.” 

“Because I’m a good boyfriend.” there was a proud tinge to his voice and like many times during your day you found your heart swelling with love for the man. 

“Because you’re an amazing boyfriend.” you walked over to where he was and sat yourself down on his lap and pressed a kiss to his lips. “The best of the best.” 

Fred nuzzled into your hair, and took in a deep breath, inhaling your shampoo. “So what are the chances of you getting dressed in something silk for your amazing boyfriend who is the best of the best for your date with him tonight?” 

“Pretty good if that amazing boyfriend says please.” It wasn’t a button you pressed often, but you were quite happy to today. 

Fred had surprisingly good manners, though people liked to pretend otherwise. 

However, when it came to things like this, to put it lightly he liked to see you being the one to say ‘please’. 

He also preferred to be the one telling you what to do. 

A smirk came to Fred’s lips, “What if your boyfriend doesn’t want to say please?” 

At that you slipped out of his lap and returned to your station of sorting clothes, “Then my boyfriend won’t get to see me in silk ‘til he does!” 

Fred looked rather amused, thinking back to all the times he’d had you wrapped up around the axel for him. The rather sure smile on your face didn’t phase him, Fred reckoned that by tonight things would change. 

It had been a very rough week for Fred. 

In a very strange way. 

Work was going well. Harry and Ginny’s wedding was creeping up which was terribly exciting. You had been delightful for the past week, though to your credit you were just being yourself. 

One of the best things about dating you, which Fred reckoned was one of the reasons you two had lasted for years, was because you always told him very plainly what was going on, and he knew that he could do the same for you. 

So it made times like this, in the privacy of you and Fred’s apartment all that more precious. 

“You’re torturing me, Y/N.” 

You looked very amused as you fixed yourself some tea. “And how’s that?” 

Fred’s face flushed red, and it was one of the few times when he didn’t want to say exactly what was on his mind. 

It had been exactly seven days since you’d worn anything silk for him, and the same amount of time since you’d done anything past a swift peck. 

There was a whine in the back of Fred’s throat, and he resisted the urge to reach out and sweep you up right then and there. “You know how!” 

The smirk on your face told Fred that you did. Which wasn’t entirely helpful. 

He also tried very hard to ignore the fact that this was a game he would play with you too quite often. 

The difference was he was always the one in charge until now. 

“Freddie you know what I want, don’t you?” you walked around from the kitchen and sat yourself down on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other as you smiled sweetly up at him. There was a moment until Fred nodded, and you continued to speak, “We’ve done this before, you know how to end it and get what you want too! You know how to, right?” 

He wet his lip for a moment as he weighed his options. Besides giving in for once and letting you be in charge he could try and get you so hot and bothered that you’d give up but you seemed far more resolute than he’d seen you.

Something told him that it wouldn’t work. 

Your voice was soft and patient as it broke through his concentration, “You do know what I want right?” 

“You want me to say please.” 

“I do!” your smile shone out bright and you looked oh so proud of Fred at the moment that it made him weak in the knees as he made his way over to you. As Fred settled into the couch next to you and pressed his face into your neck with a soft whine, his hands gripping the hem of your flannel shirt you cupped his cheek. “Are you going to say please for me Freddie?” 

It was soft, almost so soft you couldn’t hear it, but you still heard Fred say please, his lips ghosting over the skin of your neck as he began to sink into you. 

The whine he let out when you pushed him far enough away that you could look him in the eye brought a smile to your face, normally the roles were switched. However, that especially meant that he should know what you meant. 

“What?” 

“I need you to say the full sentence, Freddie. Use your manners.” your lips brushed over the high points of Fred’s face and you felt once more as Fred melted into your touch-- a grin spreading on your mouth as you finally won one of these games. 

“Please wear something silk for me, Y/N.” Fred wanted to feel more embarrassed than he did, but the proud look on your face just made him feel more at ease with this odd shift everything was taking. 

You peppered his face with kisses and tugged upwards at the hem of his shirt to bring it over his head and toss it across the room. “Thank you for being so good for me, Freddie. D’you want your reward?” 

He nodded his head almost so hard it hurt, and with a great emphasis he said, “Yes.”

“You get to go pick out what you want me in.” 

He sure had a hell of a lot of options and quite a few that would work out in a more sexual situation like this. 

It was almost cute really how excited and happy Fred looked, and the expression on his face brought a grin to yours. “And Freddie?” 

“Yes lovey?” 

“If you keep being good I’ll let you decide whether you want me to keep it on or take it off for you later tonight.” 

#Fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x oc #my writing #my imagines #george weasely #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley oneshot #george weasley x reader #george weasley x oc #the weasley twins #weasley twins #fred and george #fred and george weasley

[fanonorcanon]

Sebastian & F!Hawke (Past Handers)

Una Hawke stood frozen staring at the statue of what had once been Knight-Commander Meredith. How someone could be so tyrannical, so careless of others lives she didn't know. A part of her wanted to take her staff in hand and see if the statue would shatter. But the thought of red lyrium in shards and pieces possibly being picked up, perhaps even being smuggled away was enough to stop her.

“Is everything alright, lass?”

“Oh, Sebastian. Yes, everything is fine,” Una lied easily.

“You forced her hand and made her kill her lover. I doubt that 'everything is fine’” Fenris growled.

“You of all people wanted him alive? After what he'd done?” Sebastian argued.

“All he did was kill your precious Grand Cleric. Someone would have done it eventually. How can you see the other parts of Kirkwall, all the suffering people and say that the Chantry is justified in keeping that absurd amount of wealth to themselves? I disagree with his methods certainly but something did need to change,” Fenris said.

Una wished they wouldn't argue. It'd been hard enough to just get through the day.

“That's enough now, boys,” Isabela said in a honeyed tone.

“Can't you people leave her alone?” Varric sighed. “Head on home, Hawke. We'll deal with this,” he said, waving her off.

“Thank you, Varric,” Una murmured. She gripped her staff tighter and made her way back to the estate.

The loss of Anders still stung. It had been months ago and Una had done her best; going through the motions, putting on a happy face. It seemed to satisfy most people, save for Sebastian. He'd accused her more than once of 'simply paying lip service’ when the subject of Anders’ betrayal came up. As it often did if Sebastian had anything to say about it. 

Una lay back in the bath. The water had long gone cold, any bubbles dissolved. None of it bothered her. She heard a commotion downstairs but was certain that it was just Sandal having fun.

“Messere, please. The Lady does not wish to be disturbed!” Bodhan said. 

Una sighed.

“Sod it, if I want to see my sister, I'm going to,” Carver spat.

Una hustled out of the bath and wrapped herself in her favorite robe. She sat at her vanity and tried to look busy, she was reaching for her hairbrush when Carver burst in.

“Brother. A pleasure as always,” Una plastered on a smile.

“Stop making that face. It's weird. You don't have to pretend, you know. Not with me.”

Una let her face relax, the frown coming easily. “Thank you, Carver,” she murmured.

“So whose head do I need to knock around?” 

“No one,” Una huffed.

“Yet,” Carver said with a smirk. “That stuffy Prince still bothering you? Seems no matter how many times people argue with him he won't see reason. Bet he thinks of old Elthina when he’s wanking off.”

“Carver Aristide Hawke!” Una groaned.

“What? I wouldn't put it past him,” Carver chuckled.

“He is strangely obsessed with her.”

“You're smiling,” Carver said smugly. “All it took was insulting Starkhaven's royalty. When is he gonna fuck off right back there?”

“Not soon enough for you, clearly,” Una snorted.

“I don't like him. It wasn't right what he made you do.”

“He didn't make me do anything, Carver,” Una sighed.

“I don't believe that for a second.” Carver rolled his eyes.

“Anders forced my hand just as much as Sebastian.”

Carver passed Una his handkerchief before she even realized that she was crying. She thanked him and dried her eyes.

“Go on and blow your snotty nose with it. I know you're just dying to,” Carver teased.

Una blew her nose loudly, taking pleasure in Carver's noises of disgust.

...

Una was slumped back in her chair nursing a bottle of wine from Fenris when a visitor arrived.

“Shall I send them away, Messere?” Bodahn whispered.

“Depends, who is it?” 

“His Highness of Starkhaven, my lady.”

Una polished off the rest of the bottle while Bodahn waited patiently for her answer. 

“Send him in. Along with a bottle of whiskey, please. I daresay I'll need it.”

“As you say, Messere,” Bodahn nodded.

Sebastian entered the study and stood by the fire. His posture was rigid and he held his hands behind his back. If Sebastian had noticed her shabby appearance, he chose not to mention it. From the lines on her face, to the dark circles under her eyes, it spoke much to what Una Hawke had endured. After several false starts where he opened his mouth only to close it and shake his head Bodahn entered with a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses that he set down onto the side table.

“Thank you, Bodahn. Feel free to retire for the evening, you deserve some rest,” Una said.

“Thank you, Messere,” Bodahn replied, shooting Sebastian a glare on his way out. 

“I don't think he likes me very much,” Sebastian said haltingly.

“Not many people do,” Una snorted.

Sebastian's cheeks went red. “I came to apologize, Hawke.”

“Whatever for?” She asked as she filled two glasses with whiskey. Una sipped from one and handed the other to Sebastian.

“I shouldn't,” he protested.

Una pressed the glass to his chest. 

“Drink.” Her voice stern and brooked no argument.

He threw back a mouthful and made an expression Una couldn't quite name.

“That's Starkhaven whiskey,” he murmured.

“Is it?”

“I'm getting off track, I came to apologize. About Anders. After everything that happened, I was still so blind in my need for vengeance. I thought I'd put that behind me after the people responsible for my family's murder had paid with their lives. You deserved better than to… I have prayed on it ever since that day and though I hadn't meant to, it was manipulative. That position I put you in. I can't apologize enough, and I know that words from a foolish man mean little when you've lost a loved one-”

“Drink,” she repeated, just as sternly as before.

Sebastian gulped and nodded. He took small sips, savoring the taste that reminded him of home.

“I'm tired of thinking about it,” Una said wearily and sat back in her chair. “I've put him out of my mind. Just another chapter in 'The Tale of the Champion’, ended.”

“You can't mean that!” He yelled.

“You're not making this any easier, Sebastian. Just leave it alone. I don't want to have this conversation anymore with anyone. If that's all you came to say, you've said it and now you can leave.”

“I know better than most what burying your feelings does to a person,” Sebastian said quietly. He finished his glass and set it back on the side table. “Thank you for the whiskey. Be well, Hawke.” 

She had fled the city at the behest of Varric. Under cover of darkness on a draft horse. ‘Best to hide in plain sight’ Varric had said; a wise plan. As to where she'd go, she had not decided. She felt a lot freer than she'd been in years. No obligations, no responsibilities other than the welfare of herself and the horse.

“You need a name don't you?” Una murmured to herself as she ran her fingers through the horses mane. “Suppose I do as well. How about Ruby?” The horse nuzzled into her hand. “Ruby it is. Audra for me, I believe.”

...

She'd begun traveling years ago and had wandered the furthest reaches of Thedas; beyond the uncharted lands south of the Wilds, beyond the lands north of the Anderfels. Life was simpler as ‘Audra'. She was free to roam, beholden to no one, no longer duty bound to a city beyond saving. She found herself wandering back to the Free Marches. Perhaps she missed the only family she'd had left. The friends she'd been to hell and back with. Varric was easy to find and he was able to point her towards her former companions. Her heart somehow led her to Starkhaven.

The city had a splendor Kirkwall could never hope to match; buildings crafted of marble and granite, shops were clean and bustling with lively people. 

Audra settled on the outskirts of the city and found herself falling into familiar habits, albeit not her own. It started with selling potions to get by. Then it was making remedies by request. The progression to healing the sick or injured seemed natural; perhaps too natural. She dreamt of Anders every night now. His resigned and mournful expression when she'd killed him. How his fingers brushed her cheek and he thanked her even as she sunk the knife into his chest. Audra thought she'd run out of tears only to be mistaken the nights she jolted awake thinking she could undo what she'd done. A life of service seemed an inadequate penance but she would set herself on that path all the same.

Several months after settling into her clinic a member of the city guard arrived at her door, his head bloodied and eyes unfocused. She healed the man and thought that was the end of it but before the week's end she had the city magistrate knocking on her door.

"Is there something I can help you with serrah?" She tried to keep her tone polite and even, though in her heart she was stricken with panic. 

"You're the healer?" He asked with a frown.

"Yes, I am," she said slowly. "Are you in need of aid?"

"Not myself, no. There's an illness in the castle. And it's spreading. If you're half as good as my son says then you'll be able to sort it out."

"Your son?" 

"He's a city guard," the magistrate replied proudly. "He said you healed him. Not just his head but his leg as well. It was an old wound. He'd thought it would never be the same, but he's got a spring in his step thanks to you."

She blushed and nodded. After she gathered a few things they were off. The magistrate brought her to the servants living quarters first. They were wracked with fever, chills, coughs and sores. After thoroughly healing five of the ill servants, Audra was growing weary.

"Magistrate, serrah, I need rest," she said. 'Or lyrium' her mind supplied, though she knew better. The people of Starkhaven were distrustful of magic and very superstitious. It was enough that they had accepted her aid. There was no need to remind them of her 'abnormality' by downing potion after potion just to finish the task at hand.

"I'll alert the seneschal and he will find a room for the night. We cannot afford for the illness to spread further."

"The Prince," she found herself saying, "is he well?"

"Quite. I'll return shortly."

Audra breathed a sigh of relief. Though she and Sebastian had not parted on the best of terms she did not wish him ill. The seneschal greeted her kindly but she could see his distress.

"Are you alright, seneschal?"

"It's my wife. She's with child but she's ill like the others. The magistrate said you need rest. But as soon as you're able, please heal her. I can't bear to lose her." 

His desperation was plain to see. Audra couldn't help but think of Anders; how often he had pushed himself to heal just one more person. 

"Will you take me to her?" The words left her without a second thought.

"I'd greatly appreciate that. Even just assessing the condition is more than I'd hoped at this time," the seneschal said and wiped his eyes.

…

His wife's condition was worse than she'd feared. The illness was robbing the mother of the capability to nurture the growing life inside her. Audra felt sweat gather on her brow as she poured her magic into the woman. Even as she felt the room sway, she pressed on. When Audra finished the mother had color back in her complexion and the baby wriggled energetically once more. The seneschal wept and thanked her profusely. 

"Do you mind if I sit down a moment?" Audra tried to even out her breathing. 

"Of course, anything you need." The seneschal gestured to the divan by the wall. 

Audra made it four steps before she collapsed in a heap on the floor. The seneschal hadn't even had time to catch her.

…

Prince Sebastian walked past his chambers, only a single bodyguard- Ainsley- in tow, and onto the seneschal's chambers. The seneschal's wife was unwell and though Sebastian himself could do little to help, he wished to extend the man any and all services in his employ.

He knocked on the seneschal's chamber door and waited. Graham rarely left his quarters this time of night, opting instead to be by his wife's side as much as he could. Sebastian waited several more minutes before he tried the knob. 

"Seneschal Graham?" Sebastian asked. He heard a scuffle of feet and let Ainsley enter the room first.

"Did this woman harm you, seneschal?" Ainsley asked, his hand ready to draw his sword.

"Absolutely not!" The seneschal seemed cross at the simple implication. "She healed my wife but she collapsed shortly after. I haven't been able to rouse her and she's heavier than she looks."

Sebastian stepped closer to the woman. Much of her figure was obscured by the dark billowing fabric that could only generously be referred to as a dress. Sebastian tore his gaze from her attire and onto her face. If it wasn't for the woman's long mass of golden ringlets, Sebastian could have sworn the woman was Una Hawke. She was softer in the face, more scars, even a burn along the side of her neck.

"Her name, Graham?" Sebastian asked.

"Audra I believe, your majesty."

Sebastian picked up the woman and carried her to one of the guest quarters. She was at least twice as heavy as Una -or at least the Una he remembered- had been, but he'd no trouble carrying her. He sat by her bedside until he grew tired, vowing to return in the morning before his princely duties.

…

The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that the woman was Una. Sebastian had wheedled the information of her whereabouts the last time he met Varric after he'd become the Viscount of Kirkwall. All the dwarf had said was that she'd returned to the Free Marches. 

He'd instructed a maidservant to watch over her and to send a runner to him if the woman woke. He'd gotten no news of Una waking throughout the day and decided to take her lyrium potions. 

He dismissed the maidservant and left Ainsley by the door. As Sebastian sat at her bedside he gazed at her body. She was as beautiful as he'd remembered. He'd never told her of his infatuation; it seemed inappropriate since she had been with Anders then. The regret he still carried over his hand in Anders' fate had faded over time but looking at Hawke now it stung anew. He wanted to tell her how sorry he still was. He didn't dare hope that she'd forgive him, or even attempt to rekindle the easy friendship they'd once had. As Sebastian watched her chest rise and fall he longed to reach for her hand but resisted. He doubted she'd even want him touching her so familiarly. Instead he laced his own fingers together and waited on in silence.

Hawke began stirring in her sleep some time after midnight. She thrashed against the covers murmuring apologies. Sebastian's heart ached to see her so unsettled. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Hawke, rest easy," he murmured. 

Her eyes opened and they had a wild look about them. "Sebastian?" Hawke asked breathlessly. 

"It's nice to see you awake, Hawke. Gave us quite a fright passing out like that."

"I'd hoped we wouldn't cross paths," she admitted slowly. "Not because I didn't want to, it seems silly now. I didn't want you to see me looking this way."

Sebastian frowned. "Collapsed from healing people? How could you have known you would?"

"I'm not as fit as I used to be is all," she mumbled.

"Hawke, I hold you in high esteem regardless of your shape."

"Oh," she replied blankly.

"I um, I've brought lyrium potions. And an additional offer if you've a mind. I would do well to have a healer at court. Especially one of your talents. Would you consider coming to work at the palace?"

Hawke's eyebrows shot up.

"The lyrium potions do not hinge on your acceptance of the position!" Sebastian added hastily. "You've done a great service for my people. And not just yesterday if the rumors are true."

"Healing people… For quite some time now I've considered it a calling," she said softly.

Anders, his mind reminded him. It should have come as no surprise that the mage had had such a profound effect on her. They'd been lovers, and nearly more. Varric had sought to twist the knife in him deeper and told him that Anders had meant to wed Hawke. 

And in a single-minded fit of rage Sebastian had taken it all from her. The more he'd prayed on it the more he did everything he could to invite her rage. He deserved no less. She hadn't lashed out at all and that had been so much worse. Even now he still sought penance. Though as he stood at her bedside his traitorous thoughts ran wild with the hope that maybe after all this time she'd finally forgive him.

"Sebastian?" Hawke asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You seem… unfocused."

"As you can imagine, I often have much on my mind. Starkhaven needs a deft hand to rule it," he chuckled.

"Apologies your majesty," she murmured. "I should finish healing the ill here. If they are willing."

"Why would they be unwilling?" Sebastian frowned.

"Aren't Starkhaveners distrustful of magic?"

"Who told you that?" He asked, seeming somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

"That little bastard," she huffed.

"I beg pardon?"

"Varric. He's always told me that they abhorred magic!"

"I think he may have been trying to keep you in Kirkwall, Hawke."

"Well, I really showed him, didn't I?" She smiled gently.

#sebastian vael #female hawke #knight commander meredith #dragon age #da2 #dragon age 2 #fanon writes fic