#i stayed up until 6am to write this please clap

[weepylucifer]

24. "You're trembling." steban/ulixes

The whole mess starts like this: one afternoon, Ulixes doesn't turn up to the reading group meeting.

His absence is a stark confrontation with the fact of how alone Steban is. Thus far, as long as at least Ulixes was still coming to the meetings regular as clockwork, Steban could go on with business as usual and put off reckoning with how solipsistic his little pretense at a revolutionary cell has become. Pretend like any educating of anyone in matters of radical theory was still being done here... like other members could walk in at any moment and give the whole thing a purpose again. Now, with Ulixes absent, Steban sits and waits and drinks too much coffee and feels, though he tries to ignore it, a bit like an idiot with his metaphorical dick in his hand.

He considers his options: he could go out and try to recruit again, he could go to bed and have a depressive episode, he could do serious self-critique about where the reading group went astray and why, he could wallow in his misery about driving his friends away with leftist infighting. He could disband the reading group. He could steal Cindy's pyrholidon and get high. He could go to Uli's apartment and start a huge fight about his perceived betrayal. He could get high, go to Uli's apartment, and have a sobbing breakdown about how Uli is his only friend and Uli's absence would destroy his life.

All those destructive impulses are eventually pushed aside, and Steban decides he will go to Uli's apartment, to check if there's something wrong with him. Uli has never missed a meeting before. Maybe it's not betrayal yet. Maybe there's something he needs...

When he, an hour later, knocks on Uli's door, Ulixes opens looking perturbed and disheveled, but at least he doesn't seem sick or hurt.

"Hi," Steban says. "You--"

"Oh no. The meeting..." Ulixes looks so caught out and almost frightened that whatever was left of Steban's sense of betrayal immediately evaporates. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to miss it, I've been out all day and... I only just came back here, you have to believe me..."

Steban raises a hand. He doesn't like seeing his friend so anxious. "It's alright. What's going on?"

Ulixes suddenly slumps against the doorframe, his skinny form bending like a defeated reed. "It's Comrade Reading, he's... gone missing."

Ah, yes, Required Reading. Uli's new kitten. Uli's new kitten that Steban is all support for, because Uli having a gentle, non-violence-related hobby must be encouraged... as long as the cat doesn't come close enough to Steban to shed hair on him.

Steban likes houseplants. They're his preferred way of existing alongside nature as a communist should. They're pretty, quiet, predictable, and can be raised according to a manual. They don't yell at him in the middle of the night, or scratch him, or bite him, or break his things, or shit in a box he has to clean, or mess up his cleanly, tidy, pleasant little apartment. Besides, something about this particular cat is... strange. It meows and purrs and cuddles and plays and whatever else the things do, but there's something Steban can't put his finger on that is... weird. The less he sees of it, the better.

Still, if Uli wants a cat, a cat he shall have. If Uli wants to spend every moment of his free time with a cat and not his human best friend who can actually carry a conversation and doesn't smell like litterbox, well... so be it. Who is Steban to question his tastes?

"I opened the door briefly to get the mail and he darted out past me," Ulixes is saying. "I've been looking for him all day."

"Oh," Steban says, then makes an effort to imbue his voice with more sympathy, "I mean... oh."

Now, he expects, is when Uli is going to channel his concern for his pet into rage, the way he usually does, and vow some vague idea of vengeance onto the universe for making this happen to him. Now he'll say something over the top like swearing to murder whoever should dare harm or withhold his cat from him in several grisly and overly specific ways that will leave Steban a mixture of nauseated and fondly exasperated, because it's clear that while Ulixes dreams (in graphic detail) of violence, he has never actually experienced it up close, and these fantasies are just how he copes, and...

"This is all my fault," Ulixes whispers, and Steban is shocked to see his eyes beneath his glasses growing damp, "I'm so bad at this, and now I messed it all up."

He sits down on his desk chair and buries his head in his hands. "Why did I ever think I could take care of something? He could die out there, and it's my fault."

There's nothing for it. Steban's still not exactly fond of the cat, but... seeing Ulixes this quietly devastated turns the world inside out. Steban thinks, I need you like I need my limbs and blood and beating heart, and puts his hand on Uli's shoulder. "We'll look for him together."

----

They make missing posters and print them on campus, and Steban volunteers to help put them up around Uli's neighborhood. They spend the rest of the day looking for Required Reading, even when it gets dark, even when it starts to rain. Eventually, Steban makes Uli take a break. Ulixes resists it, but at some point, he does have to sleep. Steban stays with him as their rain-soaked clothes dry over the heater, and softly reassures him as he drifts into an uneasy sleep.

Two days go by. The rain doesn't let up. Ulixes keeps searching for Required Reading, and Steban supports him, though privately he's beginning to lose hope for the whole endeavor. Revachol is gigantic, and there are myriads of ways for a very small cat to vanish in it. And of course Steban is sad for Uli's sake, because Uli really loved - loves - that cat, and taking care of something small and vulnerable has revealed a new side of him, one that Steban finds intriguing. But... a part of him, a part he tries to ignore because he's not quite comfortable with having it in him to think so lowly, is... not too bothered by the prospect of things going back to how they were before Required Reading appeared. Back when he- when the reading group had Uli's undivided attention. When Uli was focused on him the cause. When Uli would look at him with adoring eyes and--

Stop, Steban tells himself. That's a scummy way to think, and wholly inappropriate when it comes to your comrade. Of course you want him to get his cat back.

He should interrogate that entire train of thought, practice self-critique and remind himself of the incompatibility of Mazovian thought with such... greedy possessiveness. But he's not ready to examine himself in this instance, so he pushes it all down and out of sight.

It's ironic then that, on the third day, Steban finds the cat first.

He's on his way to Uli's apartment. It's still raining and he doesn't have an umbrella, so he's steadily getting soaked through. All he really wants is to get out of the weather. Still, he pauses when he hears, from across the deserted square, a tiny cry, like a baby, or a...

...kitten.

They've pinned one of the missing-cat-posters to a lamppost on the sidewalk here three days ago. Now, under the lamppost, crouched under a soggy, discarded newspaper that offers only scant protection from the elements, there he is, meowing plaintively for help: Required Reading. His fur is plastered to his body with rainwater, but it is him.

(It would be so easy for a passerby to recognize that this is the cat on the poster. Almost as if he sat himself down here on purpose... but surely that's impossible. Cats can't read, or recognize themselves on pictures.)

(Weird.)

Steban shakes his head. It's probably just a coincidence. He'd better scoop the cat up before he runs away, hope he doesn't get his arms scratched up, and bring the little thing home to Uli. Cautiously, he steps closer.

Sigh. Here goes nothing...

Suddenly, he hesitates. A thought unfolds...

Maybe he could just... keep walking. Pretend he didn't see. Ulixes would never know. He'd be sad for a while, but eventually he'd recover, and then they'd spend time in their meetings again like they used to... no more cat hair on his clothes, no more mess, no more having to feign interest in an animal he honestly finds a bit off-putting... and Uli's attention would not waver again, and Steban would never have to ask himself what he even is without Ulixes.

He stands in silence while the rain beats down.

Required Reading has stopped crying. He's seen Steban and, doubtlessly, recognized him. He doesn't scamper up to him like Steban supposed he might. He simply looks at Steban with eyes that seem way too intelligent, and in this moment Steban is convinced that somehow the cat knows what he's thinking. Knows that Steban is considering abandoning him here.

Weird!

Or maybe that's just his conscience?

"This is nonsense," Steban mutters to himself. Of course he's going to bring the cat back to Uli. Because that's the right thing to do, and it'll take the anguish off of Uli's mind, and surely Uli will be so relieved and thankful. Steban can just picture it: his normally reserved friend smiling and hugging Required Reading close to him, and maybe then he'll set the cat down and hug Steban, too, and express his gratitude and regard for how Steban went above and beyond for him... maybe there'd even be a kiss on the cheek in it for him...

But no. Why would there be? Steban is used to kisses from his family members as casual displays of affection, that is just their way, but if Ulixes did that... if Ulixes kissed him on the cheek, it would be different, it would mean something.

Despite the rain, he blushes. What is this thought? What is he considering here? And anyway, he's not supposed to do things because he expects a reward. Again, what an inappropriate thought to have, about a comrade no less. He can't just stand here getting lost in... whatever this is. There's a task to do.

Slowly, carefully, telegraping his movements, he crouches down and reaches for Required Reading. By some miracle, the cat doesn't spook. He lets Steban scoop him up, his small, shivering body almost eclipsed completely by Steban's slender hands.

"Aww, pobrecito," Steban murmurs, dutifully, because that seems like the sort of thing one says. "You're trembling... come here, let's get you home."

"Mrreeep," Required Reading says, huddling closer to Steban's body heat.

Steban tucks him underneath his jacket and continues on his way. It's still pouring down upon him, and the cat sneezes into his armpit, but he barely notices, his head swimming with thoughts of what awaits him: the warm and dry apartment, maybe some hot coffee, the opportunity to bring Ulixes a wonderful surprise, the dread and self-recriminations leaving his comrade's face and being replaced with joy, the feel of his body pressed against Steban's in an exuberant embrace, the gentle rasp of his beard against Steban's own stubble when the--

Hm.

As Required Reading, bundled up under his jacket, starts to purr, Steban begins his struggle to contend with the fact that, apart from everything else he's got going on already, he now apparently dreams of his comrade's kiss.

#answer'd #three people in total requested this prompt. and i will do it thrice!!! #disco elysium #steban the student communist #ulixes #required reading (the cat) #i stayed up until 6am to write this please clap #writings by me

[lovequinn]

what killing eve got wrong, how it's eerily reminiscent of spring 2016, and how we move forward from here: let's take a (really long) look at bury your gays.

#killing eve #the 100 #the haunting of bly manor #bury your gays #lgbt fans deserve better #jeb bush voice: please clap #i stayed up until 6am finishing this it was very much a labor of love lmfao #writing

[ellitx]

Okay okay before you turn off asks I had a big brain moment about how both Papa Himmel and Venti would react to the question "Where do babies come from?"

--Venti

It was a warm summer afternoon and the four of you decided to spend some time in the backyard and have a picnic, mostly just a few snacks and some watermelon which each of the twins fully dug into when curiosity hit one of them

"Hey papa! Where do babies come from?" The one dressed in blue shouted, thier father going wide-eyed with mouth agape he quickly looks in search of some sort of make up answer, they were still a bit too young to know the truth.

His eyes wondered down to the left over fruit and when the idea hits him, lifting his hand to gesture both of his little ones to sit besides you both, you give him a curious glance and think 'oh what does he have up his sleeve this time..'

"So you really wanna know huh?" He says with a grin, watching both of them nod with much excitement, pulling them into his lap. He put two watermelon seeds into hand shows it to them.

"They come from watermelon seeds~ Your Papa poured all his love into two seeds, gave them to your Mama, she ate them, and then had you two!"

"Did we really come from these papa?" One of them questions He simply nods and continues with you holding back your laughter

"Oh but much love, care and thought must be put into it, the two people must be fully in love for it to work or else nothing happens, and I loved your Mama so much that it was seamless"

Both children looked at the both of you in awe, gesturing to each other, then gave you the look that ideas were running through their heads.

"I want Mama to eat 8 seeds!" The one in orange exclaimed, sending the both on you into a daze

"You want mama to eat 8 of them?! You want to have that many brothers and sisters!?" He said through his own laughter and bewilderment.

Later that evening you found a note with poorly handwriting, next to your bed along side a single watermelon seed.

"Deer moma, pleez eat these I want a sibling.."

You squint at the handwriting it looked too familiar so you turn to your lover and question

"Venti did you write this?" He just shrugs and plays it off with his own question

"Well do you want to do some gardening tonight~"

----Himmel

He had his little one sat in his lap, gently brushing through their hair getting it ready to braid it up with small flowers, while she brushed through the hair of her doll which left her mind to wander.

"Papa?"

"Yes dear?"

"Where do babies come from?"

Her question causes him to drop the brush and his mind to race, was she already asking these kinds of questions? He thought and remembered the old tale his grandmother once told him

"Well before you were born Mama and I would go out and look at the stars, both praying to them hoping they would bless us with our own little bundle of joy, we would go out there, everyday for three years and say "Please may you send down one of your stars for us to care for?" As we would hold each other and wait, until one morning an angel had appeared on our door step, and that little angel was you my darling" He exhaled beginning to gently twist and burry small blooms into his daughters hair.

"Wooow, could we go out there right now?! I wanna little sister! She could stay in my room!"

The small girl grinned, bargaining with her father making him let out a soft chuckle.

"Maybe when your Mama's done with dinner well try" He said leaning down to place a kiss on her head, making her clap her hands rapidly unable to contain her excitement

When night had rolled around Himmel had you securely pressed against him and then whispered

"Do you think you could grant us our wish..?"

---Xiao (short sorry sjdkdb)

"Dad?"

He simply hums in acknowledgement

"Where do babies come from?"

"Vaginas"

"What's a Virginia?"

"Ask your mother"

(Im sorry this is so long and probably poorly written i had to get it out skdjdjd -💚)

I CHOKED READING XIAO’S AISJSKK

venti’s was funny, attempting to copy his children’s handwriting so he can make a “garden” for his family lmaooo i can imagine him giving puppy eyes to you, even trying to invite you in by pulling you to sit on his lap to give soft kisses on your neck and slipping his hands under your shirt wink wink

Himmel’s really cute and sweet 🥺🥺 i like that baby comes from stars concept and it’s just so beautiful and innocent that really tugs my heart and that ending? Aahhhh so sweet and so gorgeously inviting to be close to himmel. Hey, their wishes will come true ;3c

As for the asks, dw! There’s still few days left before I’ll close it around may 19 6AM (GMT+8)

#submission #💚 anon #ellianswers #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #himmel x reader #xiao x reader #domestic genshin

[live-laugh-lenney]

The One Where YN Meets Will.

Hello, hi!

I’m Emily, I’ve had this blog for a few months now and I’m not sure what I want to do with it, apart from reblog gifs of Will and catch up on all things Youtube and the Eboys and the Sidemen and all that. Thought about giving writing a go, since I’ve done some before on another blog for another fandom, and this came from my brain as an attempt at writing for WillNE.

I am willing to take requests or write anything that anyone wants me to write about, if anyone would like one written for a specific idea.

Hope you like it. x

A consistent buzz came beside her.

Rumbling on top of her bedside table, her phone laid overturned and ringing with an incoming call from someone, charging on the thick Stephen King book that she was halfway through reading, ripples rolling over the surface of the water in the tall glass placed next to it, that she took to bed with her the previous night. She glanced at the salt lamp, small and jagged-looking and emitting a dull orange glow behind the sunlight that streamed through her windows, and gave herself a tut for leaving it on overnight; she couldn’t remember leaving it on although she couldn’t help but give a mental clap at how truthful the benefits of having a Himilayan salt lamp had been.

‘MUM’

The three letter word flashed at her in bold text, above a candid photo that someone had taken of her and her mum in a heart-to-heart chat in the middle of a family barbecue that had taken a turn once her father had found the alcohol stash in the garage and turned a casual family get-together into a night where everyone stumbled over the front doorstep on their way out. A heart-to-heart conversation that had them both smiling brightly at one another.

“Mum, hi.”

“Hi, darling.” Her voice sounded so soft, so sweet, inviting and warm and YN missed her more than anything; if she had anything to say about moving miles away, she would always give the advice of making sure distance was something you could handle. “You sound tired, did I wake you? I thought you’d be on your way to work by now.”

YN looked at the red numbers on the screen of her alarm clock, reading 7:45, and she had a tiny freak-out for a brief moment before she came to the realisation that it was her day off and she wasn’t due into work until after the weekend had finished.

“You did, yeah. I’m not due at work today though. They gave me the day off since my boss’ schedule is just meetings out of town today. He’s up North for conferences and such and it was late notice for me so he didn’t mind me not accompanying him. I wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway,” YN clarified and she used her free hand to push herself up from the mattress. Her hair was knotted and pillow-messed, sticking up in all directions and falling loose from the ponytail she’d thrown it up in before she fell asleep. Her t-shirt twisted around her middle which she adjusted with her fingers, bringing her knees to her chest and staring out the window as the sun continued its rise in the horizon. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t fuss about me,” she heard her mother tut from down the line. But YN couldn’t help but fuss over the two of them; if she lived closer to them, she wouldn’t worry so much because they’d be just a short distance away if they needed her help. But she didn’t live close and she hadn’t done for almost two years; she lived almost 300 miles northeast of where she used to live with her parents and it wouldn’t take her more than twenty minutes to tend to their needs. “We’re both fine, stop worrying yourself, darling. Your dad’s been back doing his gardening so he’s out there already. Watering his flowers, spraying fertiliser, cleaning all the fox poo up. He’s been growing some veggies in the plot next to the greenhouse so you can take some back when you next come to visit.”

YN smiled to herself, bringing her shoulders to her jawline before dropping them and relaxing against her headboard. The back of her head resting against the plush velvet, coloured a clean white, and her toes curled into the sheet beneath her, her fist clutching the duvet as she brought it tighter to her body.

“You can always send me some in a box? Or you could come and visit and drop them off yourself? You know I’ve got the spare room in the new place if you want to come up for a weekend. It’s vacant, just full of my empty moving boxes and bags that I haven’t gotten rid of yet,” YN said, a yawn creeping up her throat that she hid with the palm of her hand, “I need dad’s handyman work to come and help put some shelves up. You’ve not seen it yet.”

“Your dad said it’s a lovely flat. Lovely view. Lovely building. But, you know what he’s like when it comes to describing things. Everything’s lovely,” her mother snorted and YN laughed softly; her father had always been vague and she’s pretty sure that she’d never heard him use any other word to describe something other than ‘lovely’. “We’ve been talking about paying you a visit.”

“Please do. It’s a little lonely here by myself. I’m yet to meet new friends or have a chat with the neighbours. Everyone’s either back in Cornwall or back in Hackney and both are a hefty distance away.”

YN had never considered herself as an introvert so to call herself lonely felt strange.

She was always the friend who asked for the bill, she was the friend who made the complaint in a restaurant when a plate of food came back wrong, she was the friend who made advances on blokes in pubs and clubs because her friends were too shy to go and introduce themselves and she was the friend who always carried the responsibility of making polite conversation with people in pubs when they needed a table to perch themselves at. She was that friend. So making friends with strangers and starting conversations with her co-workers and approaching others who she found had kind features was never something she struggled with.

Moving to a new place and having to make new relationships and form new bonds, regardless of how far it was from the bonds and relationships you already had, she found it daunting to start fresh.  

“What are you doing today?”

“I’m not sure. The weather is really nice and it looks warm out so I might go and explore Canary Wharf and see what’s around. I need to do some shopping, food and furniture, so I might do some of that,” YN rolled onto her side and let her cheek rest against the cold side of her mattress, the backs of her thighs exposed to the cool air of her bedroom as her t-shirt rose up her body; and she made a mental note to buy herself so proper pyjamas because knickers and an oversized t-shirt could cause more problems than expected. “We’ve got a lovely grass area outside the block of flats so I might sit out there, soak up the sunshine, read a book and eat some lunch. I don’t know. Might see how the day goes, I have a good feeling about it.”

“Go exploring. You can find some places to show us when we come to visit,” and YN smiled.

“I’ll do that. You’ll love it mum. This place is amazing. I feel so lucky to have been given something as beautiful as this. I had a crack den for my first flat so this feels like a dream,” she stared at her ceiling. There was no yellow tint from how the previous tenants smoked inside and there were no unusually coloured stains on the ceiling’s coving that caught the eye because of how a stain of that colour shouldn’t have been there, leaving the mystery of just how it got there… and YN didn’t need that kind of stress over something like that. “It doesn’t smell like pee, there’s no syringes outside and there’s no sign of vomit or shit stains on the floor because it’s all laminate.”

“You deserve it, darling. You really do.”

“It’s clean, mum. It came clean, it smells clean, it looks clean. Everything looks brand new and,” YN pauses for a moment, rolling onto her stomach and she sighs with content, “I love it.”

*

After hanging up, she contemplated getting up and getting dressed for the day.

It felt rather tempting to stay in her comfortable loungewear and enjoy the silence, the time to herself and the time off she had been after for so long, taking advantage of Deliveroo and ordering food for breakfast, lunch and dinner rather than cooking something homemade and having the leftovers the next day (or for when she woke up in the early hours with a hankering for something to nibble on, because she could, because she didn’t have an authority figure to tell her no).

By the time her phone call ended with her mother, it was a little over forty-five minutes later and her alarm clock showed a time that she didn’t want to see on her day off; 8:35am. She expected another hour or two added on to her usual sleep schedule, to make a difference to the usual 6am alarm call that had her detesting her job just a tiny bit, but it wasn’t frowned upon because she’d take any given opportunity to speak to her mother. The one person she called her best friend because she really was the only person, apart from her father, that she’d drop anything and everything important for. Her sleep didn’t matter when she got to her the voice of someone she missed so dearly.

Porridge and fruit, a colourful array of strawberries and blueberries and bananas and cranberries in her bowl, and a warm cup of tea had been her breakfast as she caught up with the lifestyle Youtube channel she had been in the loop with. A Youtube channel that she had been a big fan of from the moment she moved to London, one who she turned to in times of need, one that she stumbled across when googling aesthetically pleasing ways to decorate a flat because she really needed to do something about how her Hackney flat had looked before a lick of paint and a hanging plant, one that she continued to view and like and followed tips from, even when it came to her new flat.

“Don’t be afraid to like monochrome and definitely don’t be afraid to follow a colour scheme that might seem ‘out there’ and in your face. If you like lime green then go paint a portion of your wall that colour. If you like the brightest shade of pink then go mad and add some colour to your life. You can never feel more organised than when your surroundings follow a consistent pattern that brings immense amounts of joy when you enter.”

The young girl on her screen, with space-buns either side of her head and an outfit that definitely came from a trendy thrift store clothes rail, sat before a wall of a delicious shade of peach that YN thought looked lovely; not for herself, because she’d stuck with the whites and the greys and the blacks that her flat already consisted of, but perfect for the young twenty-something year old.

“There are loads of websites where you can buy hanging plants, or artificial hanging baskets, and hanging canvas prints and wall art. I’m always looking for new things to buy so I’ll link some of my favourite online stores for you to check out; hit my Instagram mentions up with photos of things you’ve brought, too. That’s what I love to see.”

YN’s spoon clinked against the ceramic bowl in front of her as she pushed it away from her, reaching for her television remote and turning off her Youtube app, her television turning off completely and leaving a black screen behind. The flat falling silent. She looked around her, drumming her fingers against the tabletop, eyes squinting as the sunlight streamed through the wall-to-ceiling windows and made everything feel bright..

As much as she warmed to the idea of staying inside and ordering furniture and decor for her home, scrolling through online stores to buy something she thought she needed but really didn’t need, she had a good feeling about the upcoming day.

*

“Listen, love, I’m not sure if you could tell but I’m not exactly a people person. I don’t know you, don’t want to know you, have no plans to get to know you. You might live in the building but that doesn’t mean we need to be friendly.”

He spoke with such vigour in his voice that YN could only keep quiet so as to not entice a negative reaction out of him in such a confined space because confrontation was something she was never comfortable with. Sure, she’d endured confrontation before but that was from people she had been acquainted with, the ones she was friends with, people she saw on a daily basis and from people she worked with, from those who were supposed to confront her when something was wrong or hadn’t been down in a way it was supposed to be done; her boss, mainly. This man was a complete stranger, someone she didn’t know,someone she’d never seen before so instant regret filled her veins. She thought he looked friendly enough to start a quick conversation, to make the lift ride seem a little less boring, filling the empty space with general chit-chat.

Cowering away from him and almost closing in on herself, even though his attention stayed focused on the screen of his phone as he scrolled through a social media app, she thought he’d finished with her and she hadn’t expected him to perk up anymore.

“Not everyone likes to chat to strangers.”

“Well, I like chatting to strangers so don’t mind him,” a quirky Geordie accent perked up from behind her, her posture adjusting at the sudden appearance of someone behind her; she’s sure she didn’t see anyone else in the lift, apart from the towering bloke beside her, when she stepped into the lift but, then again, he was tucked away in the corner with a cap on his head and she had been looking at the floor as she entered because a mark on her white shoe had caught her attention. “Come chat to me, if you want. Promise I won’t bite your head off like matey-boy there.”

Her trainers squeaked on the floor as she spun around, eyes raking up and down his figure so she could get a good look at who the voice belonged to, almost staking him out in a way. He was a handsome chap, with brown hair sticking out from beneath a black cap upon his head that he’d pulled quite far down his forehead, a cheeky grin on his face that made the mood in the lift much brighter. There was a graphic print printed on the front of the black hoodie he had decided to throw on, the commonly-known Adidas stripes lining the length of his joggers, trainers on his feet with the laces loose and almost untying by themselves (clumsy, she assumed he was, because there’s no way he wouldn’t trip over them as soon as they loosened completely).

“I’m Will. Will Lenney.”

“I’m YN.”

“Do I get your surname? S’only fair since I told you mine.”

She laughed softly and replied with her surname, a look of appreciation on his features as he held his hand out for her to take, which she gladly shook with her own. Skin so soft, fingers so delicate, with a hold so strong that she couldn’t find herself letting go. She didn’t want to let go. This was the first contact she’d had with someone new, in a month of being new to the area, and it just so happened to be with someone she found rather attractive to the eye.

The bloke from before, who had tore down her attempts at being the friendly neighbour who he would, no doubt, see quite often, couldn’t help but let out the strongest sigh of annoyance. A sound that brought them back to reality, hands falling from their hold, dropping back down to their sides with a faint rosy-look on their cheeks that didn’t come from how warm it was. A sound that made the both of them turn their noses up, that made them their eyebrows scrunch on their browlines and made them want to really throw words at him until he gained some manners. Yet they ignored him because he wasn’t worth the time.

“You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he started, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder that had slipped with the movement of his arm falling down to his side. His fingertips and right down to the middle of his palm still felt heavy with the thought of her hand still in his. “I’d remember such a beautiful face.”

The heat already on her cheeks reached boiling and she knew her flushed look caught his attention. His smile turning into a grin which had her looking at her feet, shyly. A handsome lad with a sense of immense charm about him; she liked him and it wasn’t typical of her to form an attraction at such an early stage.

“Yeah, I moved in about a month ago. Floor 10, right at the end of the corridor. A proper upgrade from where I used to be located but thanks to my work, they moved me from my previous office block to my current office block in Canary Wharf and said they’d move me closer if necessary,” she thought she was rambling and she expected a look of faint annoyance on his features that would silently tell her to shut up. She picked at the loose string hanging from the hem of her t-shirt and twirled it around her finger, looking up from her feet and seeing a look of intense concentration on his face, enticing her to carry on. “The move was necessary. Completely necessary. It wasn’t a nice place where I was before, it was the first thing I saw on the website and I was desperate for somewhere to live. If I stayed there, I would be half an hour away otherwise.”

Canary Wharf.

It was a complete upgrade from the streets of Hackney and the dingy flat she had become so accustomed to for a little less than a year; the smell of weed and tobacco would fill the corridors and hit her in the face when she left her front door, the lights were always dim and flickered and the lifts were rickety and untrustworthy, discarded bikes and scooters and old prams and baby-carriers littered the space between one end of the hallway to the other, suspicious figures dressed in black hoodies and grey joggers always greeted her with stone-cold faces and squared-up jaws. An attempt, she guessed, to look like they were the typical hardnuts of the complex and that they weren’t to be messed with, even if it was just a polite ‘excuse me’ to pass them by and to be out of their hair within a moment.

It wasn’t all bad, regardless. Her neighbours were sweethearts, they always said hello and invited her in for cups of tea and a slice of cake after she finished work, most people were kind and warm and had their own back stories as to why they chose such a place to live - she could only imagine that the building was a nice place to live, with residents who took care of themselves and the place they lived in, before London gangs took over and were on the high of increasing and before drug dealers became more frequent on the streets - and her life, thank god,  was never bothered. No one intervened, no one found her life to be their business to spread and life felt normal; she had a home, somewhere to live, somewhere to sleep and eat and shower and feel warm and cosy in a bed. Even if it wasn’t as nice as she had wanted it to be, she had somewhere.

Her new flat was almost dream-like if you compared it to what she lived in before. It made her Hackney flat look like a pit; a drug-den, if you will. She could wake up to pure sunshine filtering through double-glazed windows and there was no chance that she would be rudely woken up in the middle of the night from the ghoulish moans of the wind getting trapped between cracked window panes or the drunken yells of people stumbling down the hallways back to their homes. She could walk to her new place of work rather than hop on public transport and she could take the time to explore a side of London she never had the chance to see. Her floor was laminated wood, heated when the nights were cold, and there were no stains of garishly and disgusting colours of god-knows-what from previous tenants who had lived there. The view was beautiful, she could see right to the end of the horizon, and the scenes she was greeted with on her arrival home were almost picturesque… except pictures could never do it justice.

She’d been there for a month.

A whole four weeks.

And she could already feel improvements in her lifestyle that weren’t so bold before. She woke up happier and didn’t feel the need to stay in bed for a lie-in, she felt happier during the day and had a bob in her step that brought light to her office block, she felt safe when she walked out the reception and into the open space by the entrance and didn’t feel like she would be jumped by hiding predators if she arrived home late at night. She was friendly with her neighbours, always popped round to give them any post that had been posted through her mailbox by accident or if deliveries were left with them when she’d been at work and always started a conversation with them when they stood waiting for the lift to arrive on their floor.

“Oh, nice. What is it-”

The ding of the lift stopped Will mid-sentence, silenced them and halted their conversation as the doors opened to reveal the reception floor, empty and desolate from people. It was mid-morning, almost lunchtime, so YN had assumed most were working or out in the streets of London to enjoy the sunshine; the latter being what she had planned to do.

The man from the lift, who had tucked himself in the corner and stuck earphones in to block out their conversation, made sure he was the first one out and disappeared before YN could give him a sarcastic goodbye, not that he would have heard her anyway so she settled with a wave, a really exaggerated and over-the-top wiggle of her fingers, and hoped he saw it in the reflection of the window as he left and disappeared into the mass of people walking by their block of apartments.

“You’re a right character, you,” Will admitted, nudging her with his elbow and smirking at her, “what is it you do, job-wise? That’s what I wanted to ask.”

“I’m a PA for a CEO at an advertising company. A personal assistant who runs and gets coffee for everyone, gets lunch during her lunch-break, who organises meetings and creates schedules and gets the big boss what he wants when he wants it,” she clarified, “it’s not exactly the best job and I wish I was doing something I wanted to do but it pays well. For now, it’s enough to get me by and keep this place.”

They started walking toward the automatic doors of the entrance, feeling the cool air of the shade on their exposed skin that definitely disappeared as soon as the sunshine hit them, coming to a stop just by a brick wall. Young children were running around with their parents walking behind, cyclists were dinging bells to pass through large groups and groups of university students were huddled on the grass, eating lunches they’d brought from restaurants on their way, backpacks discarded and being used as pillows as they laughed and joked. Tourists were taking photos and posing to show off where they’d been and what they got up to when it came to showing their friends back home and businessmen and businesswomen were almost speed-walking to get back to their offices in time with a styrofoam takeaway lunch in their hands.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Just tell me to piss off if I am.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. I’m only popping round the corner to see my mate. He won’t mind if I’m late,” he said, perching down on the brick wall and patting the space beside him. The legs of his ankles rose up to show the white ankle socks he’d paired with his trainers., “What is it you want to do as a job? Just, the way you talk about your job now makes it sound like you don’t like it.”

“I do like it there. But I don’t want to be a personal assistant, running round London to get coffee and sandwiches, for the rest of my life. I’ve always dabbled in blogging, taking photos, talking about nonsense and stuff. Posting videos and vlogging, too. I’ve tried it out as something fun, documenting holidays and stuff, and I’d love to do something with that and take it further but... I don’t know,” she sat down beside him, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and setting it on her lap, arm looped underneath the handles to keep it from spilling the contents inside, “I don’t want to be a social influencer but someone who does what she wants to do and gets by by just being herself. No companies to promote her or anything. Nothing to boost her. All her,” she stared off into the distance, tapping the heel of her foot against the concrete. Will nodded. “What do you do?”

“I, uh,” he scoffed out a laugh and rubbed the nape of his neck. His hat fell from his head and he decided to swap the shade of the cap to the sunglasses he had hanging from the neck of his hoodie, “funnily enough, I post videos on Youtube. I’m a Youtuber.”

Her head whipped round and she gawked at him. Eyes wide, mouth agape and her hand found his forearm, squeezing it tightly with excitement.

“You’re not?”

“I am, yeah. I was in university, didn’t like what I was studying, and I was told that if I really felt strongly about this Youtube malarky then I should pursue it to its possible potential and see where I end up. My mum’s words, not mine,” he snorted. He felt her hand loosen around his forearm and he watched her face become rigid as she came to the realisation of what she’d done. He dismissed it because he didn’t want to embarrass her but, really, he didn’t mind and he found it endearing.  “I’m not that big or popular or anything but I’ve got a couple million subscribe-”

“Not that big,” she mocked and rolled her eyes, “a couple million subscribers is huge. I’ll have to search you up. What’s your channel name?”

“WillNE. Like, Will then an N then an E. Like a-”

“Like a play on words with your surname,” she grinned as she proudly finished his sentence for him and he nodded, rather pleased with himself; and she had to give it to him, it was something special, unique and rather creative than some of the stand-out names she could think of from the platform. Some were really out there and had no relevance to who they were nor what they spoke about, some were vague and some were almost as bonkers as the people who came up with them. “That’s really cool. This is really cool. A famous Youtuber lives in my flat complex... I’m talking to a famous Youtuber right now... heck, I’ve managed to keep my cool around someone famous and I’m amazed I haven’t embarrassed myself. Wait till I tell my friends about this. They won’t believe me.”

“They’re not fangirls or anything, are they?”

“No, ha. If anyone’s the fangirl out of my friends then it’s me. I’ll find myself watching Youtube when I’ve got nothing else to do,” she admitted, “cooking dinner? I’ll stick someone on to watch. Can’t sleep? I’ll just binge watch someone until I’m tired. Day off and there’s nothing to do? I’ll find a channel and just let it go from there.”

“Maybe I’ll pop up on there one day. I’ll help cure your boredom,” Will grinned, “then you can say ‘hey, that’s one of my mates there on my telly, that is’.”

A comfortable silence swallowed the both of them as they sat and let the seconds tick by. The tweets of the birds came from above, distant chatter came from the students lounging on the grass behind, scuffs of soles signified people were walking and jogging nearby and despite the feeling of time coming to end between the two of them, neither of them wanted to leave the other, neither wanted to bring the conversation to an end and neither of them wanted to part ways.

“So, we’re mates, huh?”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Will smiled. Eyes locking with hers for a brief second, long enough to catch the twinkle in her eye and the genuine smile that lifted up her lips, “you’re a good’un. I like you. I think we’ll get along really bloody well, me and you.”

*

(WILL’S TEXTS. YN’S TEXTS.)

Filming a video tomorrow. Fancy coming by?

Won’t I get in the way?

Bollocks will you. Come along. Please. You can see firsthand how to make a Youtube video since you said you’ve always thought about it.

Where?

Only at my place. A TWOTI.

This Week On The Internet… nice one. I’ll be there.

You’ve done your research on me!

Spent all day googling you. As soon as you walked away, I started my research and I cut my day short so I could come home and watch your videos. Just call me a superfan now.

Superfan, ha.

I’ll have to test you. Could get you in a video to see if you’re my biggest fan.

Try me. I’ll get full marks. Your subscribers will look like phonies compared to me, hahaha.

You might have to sit off camera, out of shot, tomorrow. If I don’t finish everything by the time you get here, that is. No distractions. No pulling faces behind the camera.

I’ll be on my best behaviour. I’ll fangirl at the door, drop my Twitter handle into conversation, ask for a signature and a photo and then I’ll be fine.

I’m not going to regret this, am I?

You won’t hear a peep out of me. Promise.

Come by after lunch then. We can get some takeaway for lunch or something, if you don’t eat before, and I’ll have some bits filmed by the time you get here so you won’t have to sit in silence for too long.

Make it 1pm and it’s a deal.

Why 1pm?

It’s Saturday tomorrow. I don’t get up before noon on the weekends. Not even for you, mister big-shot Youtuber. ;)

And here I was, thinking you would throw your routine away for your new best mate.

Nice try.. see you tomorrow, William.

Ohh, serious. Full name and all. I see how it is, YN.

Goodnight, you muppet.

See you tomorrow. x

#willne imagines #willne fanfiction #willne blurbs #will lenney imagines #will lenney fanfiction #will lenney blurbs #youtuber fanfiction #youtuber imagines #youtuber blurbs #willne x reader fanfiction #willne x reader imagines #willne x reader fic #willne fic #will lenney fic #willne one shots #will lenney one shots

[mermaidchansons]

Thanksgiving w/ Mr. Stevens & the Udakus

SoftBoi!Erik Killmonger x Black Reader

A/N: Hey, friends! This is my first time writing for Erik so drag me if need be lol. It’s just a quick imagine that I needed to get out since I was feeling lonely today. Let me know what you think! Love y’all; Happy Thanksgiving!

You were stirred out of your sleep by the alarm on your phone. 8:30 pm. It was the day before thanksgiving and after prepping all morning, you decided to treat yourself to a nap. Cooking, prepping, and generally being awake was exhausting around this time of year.

Every Thanksgiving was the same with your family; you’d plan everything by yourself, set the table by yourself, and force people to cook with you. Everyone wanted to eat but no one everyone wanted to help. You always felt alone, even when you were at the dinner table surrounded by family. Be it seasonal depression or a lack of holiday committment from your family, you were sure you were done with the holiday season. But not this year. This year, you had Erik.

Here you were a year and a half into your relationship, staying with him and his family in Wakanda. It took you a while to get used the to the new scenery; and the fact that you were dating a fomerly lost prince.

“Yo, cakes, you up yet?! I heard your alarm go off,” you heard the prince yell from across the room. You groaned in response, hiding your face in your pillow.

Erik stripped the covers of the bed and smacked your mostly bare ass.

“Erik,” you yelped,” why do you have to be so rough, damn!”

“I’m sorry, cakes, but you gotta get up; we got cooking to do,” he said, sitting next to you.

You sat up and pouted as he rubbed your leg.

“Daddy, I’m tired-“

“No, don’t ‘daddy’ me; unless you tryna get fucked right now, I suggest you get your cute ass up and follow me to kitchen,” Erik said sternly.

“Firstly, I’m always tryna get fucked,” you stated, smiling. He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re a fool. Come on, y/n.” He said kissing your lips softly.

After putting on a onesie and taking off your bonnet, you followed Erik to the kitchen. His cousins Shuri and T’Challa were already in there, doing there best at following the instructions Erik had given them. Even queen-mother was helping; mixing the ingredients for the sweet potato pie.

“Goodmorning, sis,” Shuri yelled,” I see my cousin has decided to wake you up the proper way.” You tried your best to keep your laugh in but once she started, so did you.

“Fuck that supposed to mean?” Erik chided, mean mugging her from across the kitchen. Shuri shrugged her shoulders as she continued to peel the softened sweet potatoes.

“Nothing,” you giggled, rubbing his arms as he cut up some vegetables.

You love the way his scarred biceps looked in a tight white tshirt; the apron he wore was even more excruciatingly sexy than it needed to be and you knew you’d have a hard time focusing.

“You make food prep hella sexy, N’Jadaka,” you whispered. His gold fangs flashed as he smiled.

“You better stop playing before I take you to the bathroom, y/n,” Erik said, biting his lip.

“Alright, alright, put me in coach.”

“Aight, go help T with the mac and cheese. Then come back over here and you can mix the turkey drippings into the dressing; got it, cakes?” You nodded as Erik instructed you then went over to gather the cheeses to help T’Challa.

“Why do you call y/n ‘cakes’?” T’Challa asked innocently. You laughed quietly, placing the cheeses next to T’Challa’s workspace.

“Nigga, you don’t see all that cake she got? Matter fact, nevermind; I don’t need you looking.” Erik said, shaking his head.

“N’Jadaka, please do not discuss y/n in that matter while we are cooking,” Ramonda reprimanded.

“My bad, auntie,” Erik said shooting T’Challa an incredulous look.

“It’s okay, T. It’s an AAVE term,” you consoled him.

“It means she has a big ass,” Shuri said nonchalantly.

“Shuri, what did I just tell your cousin?!” Ramonda yelled.

“Sorry, mother!”

After putting the mac and cheese in the oven and mixing the dressing, you headed to the dining hall to see how the tablescape was coming along. You took your time at each seat, adjusting and folding the napkins and place settings.

“Is everything to your liking, y/n?”

You looked up to see the queen-mother looking at you lovingly.

“Everything is so beautiful, queen-mother. I’m elated to be here. Everything and everyone is so open and warm and inviting,” you said as she took a seat next to you. She placed her hand on yours, smiling warmly.

“I’m glad you feel safe enough to share this holiday with us. You’ve brought such happiness with you. Especially to N’Jadaka; this means a lot to him,” Ramonda noted.

“Here me when I say this, Y/N; you are filling a void in his heart that no one ever could. For so long he was lost and isolated; even after the challeneg had commenced he never celebrated like this until you. His love for you is so apparrent, he practically floats into the room when you are by his side,” Ramonda said, laughing. You laughed as well, looking down at your hand.

“Thank you for keeping him happy. I appreciate you. May your love span a thousand years. I will you see you for the festivities tomorrow; good night my dear,” she sighed, squeezing your hand.

“Good night, queen-mother.”

***

You heard Erik’s alarm go off at 6am and groaned. You felt him stir beneath you and you held on to him tighter.

“Baby, I gotta go check the food,” he yawned, rubbing your back.

“It can wait,” you said, yawning in response.

“I’ll bring you back a taste,” Erik bribed.

And with that, you rolled off of him with a quickness, causing him to chuckle. You drifted back to sleep for what felt like 5 seconds before Erik shook you awake. Once you sat up, he handed you a plate of dressing, a small piece of slow cooked pork, and a fork. You practically went to heaven as you took your first bite.

“Damn.. I still got it,” you moaned, silently congratulating yourself on how well seasoned the dressing was. Erik walked around to his side of the bed and shuffled through his drawer.

“If you’re looking for your kimoyo beads, you left them on the bathroom counter,” you informed him with your mouth full of dressing. You looked up to see him staring at you with his hands behind his back. He shuffled side to side and rolled his shoulders; it was telling. Erik usually did this when he was nervous. Or if he was about to ask you a favor.

“Alright, what you want?” you asked him.

“Damn, y/n, why you always think I want something? Why you gotta be like that?” He was stalling. But for what?

“Boy, stop playing and tell me what you want!” You watched as he knelt before you with a small black box in his hand.

“Aight then, cakes, I’ma tell you what I want. I want to spend every Thanksgiving and Christmas with you. I want to wake up knowing you’ll be next to me every morning. I want you to mother my children and help me put them in they place when they fuck up. I want to love you until the end of my days and that’s all I wanted since I first laid eyes on you in that record store; with your pretty brown eyes lighting up at the sight of that old ass Earth, Wind, & Fire vinyl. I want you, y/n, and only you. Forever.”

You watched with teary eyes as he opened the tiny black velvet box that held a black opal ring; lined with diamonds and vibranium scalloping. You placed your plate of food on the end table and reached forward to hold Erik’s face in your hands.

“I need to hear it. I need you to ask me, E,” you cried softly.

“Y/N, will you be my wife?” Erik asked, searching your eyes for an answer.

“Yes, N’Jadaka; I will be your wife til the end of time!” You were full on crying now, kissing all over his face as he struggled to hold in his emotions.

“Cakes, you gone let this stay in the box or..,” he trailed off, chuckling as you showered him with kisses. You held out your hand and he slid the ring onto your finger.

“There you are, Mrs. Stevens,” he smirked, wiping the tears that had fell on his face. You kissed his full lips passionately, wanting to savor every moment.

“I love you, N’Jadaka,” you hummed.

“I love you more, cakes,” Erik said, kissing from your cheek to your neck. You heard a knock and the door cracked open to reveal Shuri smiling giddly.

“Good, she said yes! I was beginning to think you had chickened out,” Shuri noted, clapping her hands.

“Nigga, you couldn’t have waited like I told you to? I’m tryna have a moment here, damn,” Erik berated.

“Aye, be glad I kept your secret til now; you were taking too long! I almost told her!” Shuri yelled in her defense. You laughed as you kissed your fiance’s cheek; taking in the banter of your soon to be family.

Best Thanksgiving ever.

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black reader #erik killmonger imagine #black panther #black panther imagine #black panther fanfiction #black panther famdom #michael b jordan #t’challa #shuri black panther #queen mother #soft boi

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

66&9 for jungkook please. Also I love your writings and with the Taehyung prompt in this one I just went "oh my God shut up" and read the last part again and that shit hurted

This was for the angst prompt and I was inspired I'M SORRY

9 (“i’m falling so hard it’s painful.”) and 66 (“i’m running out of patience”) for jungkook

Jungkook is grateful for how his body is bare, absent of any words, because it's always seemed so fucked up to him. The idea of soulmates in general is a concept that just seems so...forced.

Like you don't get a choice in who you fall in love with. Then how the words that appear are your last? What kind of awful anticipation is that, as a couple, to wait for those words to be spoken, to know the panic of that moment.

He's grateful even when his college roommate gets his mark, when it appears moments after Jimin meets a brown eyed girl with a bright smile, even when she becomes a permanent fixture at the dorm room.

Then he meets you. You don't say a single word to him, sitting a couple seats ahead of him in his literature class, and he's too shy to talk to you, but the way your hair falls over your face and you stick out your tongue in concentration while taking notes makes his heart ache.

It's 6am and he's getting ready for the gym, pulling a tanktop over his head, and his back aches from being in class all day.

Jimin gasps and Jungkook's throat fills with panic for reasons he can't begin to describe.

"What.... what does it say?"

Jimin swallows hard, won't tell him for a few moments until Jungkook is trying to use two mirrors to see the mark on his back, an ache right across his shoulder blades.

"I'm running out of patience, Jimin, please!"

"It says, 'My name is Y/n. It's nice to meet you.'" He won't look at him and suddenly Jungkook hates him and his easy soulmate words, something that can be interpreted as years and years of being together.

Jungkook hates it. He hates how he'd been half in love with you already and how now his chest aches every time you catch him staring and he ends up dropping the class to avoid it, avoid you, altogether.

But you see his drop slip, the last day he's in class, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

He's all but sprinting out of class when you catch up to him.

"Hi, I'm..."

He doesn't know what else to do but clap a hand over your mouth. "Don't!" He hisses, and your eyes widen, confused.

"Look, please don't introduce yourself, okay?" He says, slowly dropping his hand, heart thudding from being so close to you.

"But...why?"

He bounces a little, worried. "Just...please. Bear with me."

"Okay....well, you're Jungkook, right?"

He nods, hating how eager he feels to speak to you, knowing it can't last, hating the way he wants to scratch the words off his back, erase them so that he can know you.

He hates how the words tumble out of his mouth. "Are you hungry?"

He takes you to lunch that day and every day that week, skirting over all your questions, not calling you by your name even though he knows it, has it in bold letters on his right shoulderblade like a brand.

It goes on for a month and it's crazy how easy it is, how simple it feels to just avoid it, and even when you fall into bed together he manages to hide his mark, even as you drag your nails across it he makes sure you don't see.

It's a Friday when Jimin asks why he's smiling and it all comes tumbling out, how he doesn't know how to keep seeing you and keep you safe but also how it physically hurts to think of never seeing you again.

"Do you like her?" Jimin asks, and Jungkook hangs his head, barking a bitter chuckle.

"Like? I'm falling so hard it's painful," he admits.

"What are you going to do?"

Jungkook clams up because he doesn't know, doesn't know how to let you go or how to keep you and he stays up all night worrying about it.

His solution, finally, is to spend the next year studying abroad, picking a country at random and he doesn't even tell you, and you show up at the gym with red eyes and he hates himself because he knows you've heard.

"What is this? You're just leaving? After a month of...whatever this is? You don't even wanna know my fucking name?"

"Please...you don't understand..."

"I would've never pegged you as a fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook." You slam the door behind you and he wants to chase you, can't help himself."

"Wait! Y/n!" He says, and you stop, stock still for a moment, looking back at him with wide eyes, before you sprint across campus.

And that's it, he doesn't hear from you until he misses a call the day of his flight, and he's listening to the voicemail when his whole world falls apart.

Your voice is shaky and a little slurred, as if you've been drinking, and Jimin's looking at him wide eyed as Jungkook starts to hyperventilate.

"I'm scared, Kook, because I don't know what happens now, to me or to you....I thought I'd have more time but you said it. You said my words and I swear, I didn't know it was you. But if it's over for either of us, I want...I want you to know me. My name is Y/n. It's nice to meet you."

#bts soulmate au #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #Jungkook imagine #drabble game 2

[bitsfordays]

Work Visits

Another part to my nurseydex children series! Ive offically deemed this Au “Things That Stop You Dreaming” and it can be found on AO3 under that title!

Enjoy Addy being cute af, plus an introduction to Bella! 

(pst, i posted this in two parts on AO3 but yall will get it all in one bc im lazy)

“Daddy, are we there?”

Derek sighed and looked at his daughter for probably the seventh time in the last 10 minutes he's been driving. This was the seventh time she asked.

“Addison, I know you have the route to the rink memorized, so I know that you know that we are literally in the arena parking lot. You don't have to antagonize me.”

Addison gave what could only be described as a shit-eating grin from her spot in the back seat. She swung her legs happily. “I know Daddy, but Papa says that I should mess with you more often. He says its funny”

Derek was going to kill his husband.

He pulled into one of the parking spots reserved for players families and shut off the car. He turned around so he could make proper eye contact with his daughter.

“Okay Addison, Papa is playing against Uncle Jack tonight. Uncle Bitty was in town already for his book tour and so he brought Bella with him and we’ll be sitting with them in the family section. Do you remember the rules for when Uncle Jack plays against Papa?”

“Boo when Papa gets checked but don't cheer if someone on Uncle Jacks team gets checked, unless it's by Papa.” Addison explained neatly.

“Anything else?”Derek prompted.

“Don't curse?”

Derek couldn't help but laugh. Addison had learned her fair share of curse words, despite only being 6 years old. It's what happened when a child had an uncle whose name was literally Shitty.

“Not quite, lovely but that's a good one. I was actually going for ‘don't heckle Uncle Jack.’ He needs to stay concentrated on the game ”

“Oh.” Addison shrugged her little shoulders. “I can do that. Can we go inside now?”

Derek laughed. “Yes, Addy. We can.”

They got out of the car and made their way inside, not even bothering to wave their passes at the security guards, who they knew by name and had for years now. They went to their seats in the family section, directly behind the glass and found their family already there.

“Bella!” Addison tore her hand from Derek's and ran to greet her best friend/pseudo-cousin. They hugged tightly in the way that only young kids could.

Bella was a year older than Addison but that didn't stop them from being as thick as thieves. They lived three hours apart so they didn't see each other often but they adored each other just the same. Bella was more soft spoken than Addison was,

“Nursey!” Bitty grinned and pulled Derek into a tight hug.

“Hey Bits.” Derek laughed and hugged the other man back, just as tight. “How was the book tour?”

“Oh, you would not believe...”Bitty launched into a story about his time touring for his newest cookbook and Derek let his thoughts drift as Bitty rambled on.

“Oh, there they are!” Bella interrupted her father, pointing down at the ice as the players skated on for warm ups.

Jack and Will  were both easy to spot. Even from under his helmet, Will’s ginger hair was easy to spot, just as Jacks distinctive blue eyes were easy to spot behind his face guard.

“Papa!” Addison jumped up and down in front of the glass and waved her arms furiously. “Papa! Papa, over here!”

Derek could see Will’s grin from the other side of the ice. Will waved at his daughter, who waved back energetically. Derek could see Jack’s shoulders shake as he laughed and saw Jacks mouth move in some chirp. Will grinned and said something back before they skated their separate ways to warm up with their teams.

Addison kept waving her arms, trying to catch her father's attention again until Derek had to put a stop to it. “Add,let Papa warm up in peace. You dont want to throw him off his game, do you?”

“Its preseason, Daddy, it doesn't effect the season.” Addison responded, not looking away from the ice. Bitty chuckled from his seat.

“Addison. Leave him be until after the game, okay? Then you can harass him as much as you want.”

“Fiiiiiineeeee.” Addison backed away from the glass and sat down between Derek and Bella with a pout but Derek couldn't help but chuckle. There were times where he wanted to do the same thing.

Addison kept pouting and Derek took pity on her. “Hey Addy, how about you tell Uncle Bitty how your skating classes have been going? Im sure he would love to hear about them.”

Addison perked up immediately and Derek smiled.

This was going to be a good evening.

Rangers beat the Falconers 4-3, with Dex getting the game winning goal at the end of the 3rd period. Jack clapped Will on the shoulder during the handshaking and from the stands, Derek could see him say something and Will laughed before they both went on to shake more hands.  

They met Dex outside of the Rangers locker room. He was sweaty and gross but he still beamed when he saw his husband and daughter. It made Dereks heart do flips, the same way it did when they met in college.

“Papa!” Addison tore her hand from Dereks and did a flying leap towards her father. Will dropped his hockey bag to open his arms as his daughter slammed into his chest. “Hi Papa! You played really good tonight!”

“Thanks baby.” Will hugged her tightly. “Did you enjoy watching the game with Uncle Bitty and Bella?”

“Yeah! Did you know Bella is taking figure skating classes? Im gonna have her show me all the stuff shes learning there and Ill teach her everything Im learning in my hockey skating class!”

“Thats wonderful, Addy-Girl.” Will smiled. He set her down and looked over at Derek. “Hey babe. Did you enjoy the game?”

“You know I did.” Derek smiled and kissed Will on the cheek. “Nice check on Jack during the 2nd. Had him rattled for a second there.”

Will shrugged. “He got me back in the 3rd, twice as hard. I felt my brain rattle.”

Derek frowned. “How's your head?”

“It's fine, Der. They got me all checked out and I'm fine.”

“Good. I like you better with your brain intact.”

“Same.”

“Quit being gross!” Addison jabbed Will in the leg to get his attention.

“Ow, Addison. That's not how you get people's attention.” Will chided.

“Sorry. Can we go see Uncle Jack and Bitty and Bella now?” Addison said.

“Sure. Lead the way.” Derek said.

Addison lead them around to the visitors lockers, just in time to run into Jack, Bitty and Bella, who was currently asleep on Jacks back.

“Nice game, Cap.” Derek said with a smirk.

Jack sighed. “I havent been your captain in over a decade, Nurse. Please stop.”

“Ah, but you were the best one Ive ever had. Sorry Bits.”

Bitty and Jack both rolled their eyes.

“We would love to stay and chat with you two but we gotta get headed towards the airport.” Bitty said. “Especially since Bells already asleep. Shes been up since 6am with me and is just bone tired.”                                                             

“Okay Bits. We’ll see you in a few weeks for the Falconers home opener. Wanna get dinner before hand, while our husbands do their thing?”

“Sure. We’ll see you then. Have a safe flight you three.”

“See yall later!”

The Zimmermann-Bittles walked away, leaving the Poindexter-Nurses on their own. Addison tugged on Dereks hand. “Are we gonna go home now?”

Will grabbed Addison's free hand and smiled. “Yes, Addy-Girl. Home for now.”

“Okay.” Addison gave a tired smile. “It was a good game, Papa.”

“Thanks baby.”

Together, the three of them left the area at the end of another good day.

Derek Poindexter-Nurse hates writing. Its difficult, its time consuming and tedious to do. He hates writing with an undeniable, fiery passion.

Which is why he does it for a living. Obviously.

When it comes to writing, Derek’s been lucky. Hot got published only a few years after college and he quickly made it onto the bestseller list. He has hordes of teenage fans who would probably commit many crimes if he asked them to, all of them clamoring for another installment, another book, another bonus story, another anything. He could give them a five hundred word shit stain and most of them would probably be content. Literally anything.

Which is of course, how Derek found himself holding down the ‘H’ key for ten minutes, thumping his head continuously on his desk, as if that will make the ideas come faster. Usually when Derek gets into a slump like this, he just goes and talks to Will but its early May and the Stanley Cup playoffs are looming in front of the Rangers, so Will’s at practice and will be for another four hours, meaning that Derek is stuck stewing in his own mind indefinitely.

Indefinitely doesnt last for long. Dereks stewing is interrupted by a knock on his study door and it being pushed open to reveal Addison in all of her 13 year old glory.

“Are you okay Dad?” Addison said, looking at her father with a mixture of concern and vague disgust.

“No.” Derek sighed. He thumped his head aginst the wood again.

“Um..” Addison walkedd ina nd leaned against the desk where Derkes head currently was. “Maybe stop hitting your head against the desk? I dont think getting a concussion would be very good for you. Besides, Papa’s gotten enough for the both of you.”

Derek leveled a glare at his daughter but he lifted his head off the desk and sat up. He rubbed the red mark on his forehead. “Ive gotten my fair share of concussions too, ya know. I did play hockey for a lot time.”

“I know, I know, all im saying is that Papa had a concussion like, a month ago. “ Addison shrugged. “So his might be a little more relevant.”

It was true. Will had gotten a harsh check and was out of the game for a while because of it. It was rough on all three of them, just as it always was whenever Will got hurt during games. It always made Derek worry, usually about how much longer Will could play in the NHL or if they should continue letting Addison play in her junior league. It sent his head in swirls and him and Bitty and Caitlin have spent hours talking about the stress of being married to three of the top players in the NHL. And Derek knew that their children have had similar conversations about being the children of NHL stars.

“Dad? Hello?” Addison waved her hand in front of Derek's face to get his attention. “You still with me or did you actually give yourself self a concussion? Do I need to drive you to the hospital?”

“You can't drive yet, Addison. You're 13.”

“I know but I figured that if you had a concussion you would let me try anyways.” Addison grinned.

“And that's where you're wrong.”  

“Worth a shot. So what's wrong?”

Derek let out a long sigh. “Writing is hard, Addy. Don't do it. It isn't a viable career. “

“I mean, it wasnt on my list. I was more thinking hockey.”

“Huh?” Derek stared at his daughter and his heart thumped extra hard. “Really?”

“Well, yeah.” Addison shrugged. “Its what makes sense and I like it a lot. Is there…..something wrong with that?”

Derek let out a breath. The idea of his daughter, his pride and joy, one of the two most important people in his life, playing a dangerous game that both him and his husband loved made him feel nauseous. He knew first hand how dangerous the game was and while he knew that Addison took after her fathers in her love for the game, part of Derek wished that she didnt.

“Just..be careful.” Derek said carefully. He didnt want to admit to her how much it scared him. “You have time to decide. Most kids your age have no idea what they want to do. But, me and Papa will support you no matter what, okay?”

“Okay Daddy.” Addison leaned over and hugged him tightly. Derek hugged her back, putting all of his concerns and hopes into that hug.

“So, how can I help you get past your writing block right now?” Addison asked, pulling away from the hug.

Derek glanced at his laptop, which was just showing a word document full with the letter “H”. An idea tickled at the back of his brain. Something about an over-do meeting between a main character and their parent. A nice conversation about fears. Derek grinned

“You've already have.”

#nurseydex #zimbits #future fic #kid fic #AU:Things That Stop You Dreaming #my writing #hockey screams