#in shock and excitement and delight and oh christ no

[mirkwoodmunson]

Moonie my beloved.

i’m not sure if your requests are open but. i need eddie munson // gremlins content like i need god. What are his thoughts watching the movie for the first time. is he haunted by the thought of stripe. does he need a gizmo in his life or is he already a gremlin after midnight. inquiring minds must know ,, thank you g bless

WWUUUHHH UHEUUU REY THIS GOT ME SO EXCITEDJKkghkfk

eddie and you love going to the movies, barreling out right after school or sneaking into midnight shows of the latest horror releases, spending full weekends in the theater to watch your favorites over and over again. of course you guys sneak in your own snacks and treats, but you're respectful about it, always making sure to clean up after yourselves. eddie'd worked a few shifts as an usher one summer and christ how he hated cleaning up after the slobs -- he vowed to never be that kind of customer.

oh, but, when you two first see the trailer for gremlins on tv? he's already staring at you and grinning when you whip your head around to him.

"um. we're seeing that," you state matter-of-factly.

eddie snorts, about to say something in agreement, and then gasps, full shock,

"...babe... BABE!"

"what??"

"that's the SAME DAY ghostbusters is out."

wayne just watches from his recliner with a smirk as you -- unsure of how to express your excitement -- begin dog-piling yourself on eddie while cheering, your boyfriend cackling all the while.

that friday, eddie and you aren't at school, oh no. in fact, you're one of the first ones in line at the theater, 'giddy' not even covering it as you both recite lines from the trailers, discussing theories and what you expected.

ghostbusters is the first flick of your double-feature -- to say you both enjoyed it is a heavy understatement -- and going into the second movie of the day you're beyond ready for whatever gremlins throws at you.

the set-up part of the film has you both hooked -- hell, just the trailer had you hooked, but when you finally see gizmo for the first time, whining over how cute he is, eddie is cheesing hard and squeezing you into him. he loves the movies as much as you, but watching you watch movies? sometimes that was even better. eddie was a sucker for your commentary.

he's scolding the screen as every mogwai rule is eventually broken, fully immersed, fully engrossed, fully ready to fight stripe with his bare hands. the moment the antagonist dares to spit upon sweet, innocent gizmo, eddie has a vendetta.

although, that's not to say he doesn't absolutely love every minute of the gremlins being gremlins. he's cackling and pointing, elbowing you excitedly through the whole chaos montage. and when it comes to mrs. deagle's turn for a visit, he's on the edge of his seat just waiting to see what will happen.

when the old lady goes soaring, you both along with the audience are clapping and cheering at the grisly yet much-deserved demise. barney could rest easy now, poor dog.

now, eddie would never openly admit it, but he was a sucker for those old disney movies -- ever since he was a kid. when the gremlins are all together in the theater, watching snow white and entranced by the dwarves' working song, he's singing along with them too, with a grin so wide his cheeks are hurting.

somewhat surprisingly to you, eddie is near hiding his face in your shoulder when stripe finally meets his end, whining sounds of distaste as the creature melts and perishes. you just coo and pat his cheek, while your eyes are glued to the screen in delight.

you could swear as well you hear him sniffle when gizmo bids billy goodbye as the movie draws to a close. you don't judge, though. you're definitely crying a little, too.

you'd gotten to the theater early in the afternoon, and after two flicks it still wasn't too late in the day, but the excitement had definitely wiped the pair of you out. eddie leans into you heavily, almost sad, pouting and squeezing his arm around your shoulders as yours does around his waist.

"...i want a gizmo..."

you snort softly and tilt your head to peck his cheek, "i know, sweetie, i know."

in bed that night, curled up together and yawning in-between reminiscing in the day you'd had, eddie is about to get up for a glass of water when he pauses.

"what's up, babe?" you question softly, rubbing his back. eddie shuffles a bit and turns his head to look at you, bemused and smirking.

"... what if there's gremlins out there..? ghouls..."

you can't help the laughter, giving him a playful shove out of bed to which he whines and makes a show of tiptoeing to the door, cracking it open and peaking out.

"well, then, you better go bust 'em! show 'em who's boss, baby, you got it."

and, of course, eddie most definitely is a gremlin, as he sheepishly re-enters the room with the glass of water and a plate full of food for you both to share. tired before, he's wired after the late-night feast, leaping around you sat in bed asking repeatedly as you're wracked with giggles, 'who you gonna call?? ED-BUSTERS!'

the next few days neither of you can go a full sentence without quoting the films at each other, and of course you go back over the weekend multiple times, at least once with wayne after convincing him to join you.

a few weeks after release and it continues when eddie is crouched in front of the tv, grumbling softly and smacking the sides, adjusting the antenna while the screen shifts between shades of fuzz. he huffs, calls to you while you're in the kitchen. "hey! theres GREMLINS in here. we got gremlins in the tv."

#GJSKJDGKJ IM SORRY THIS IS SO FKN MESSY AND UNHINGED IM SLIGHTLY MANIC #LISTEN TO ME LISTEN #I LOVE MOVIES I LOVE THE THEATER I LOVE CORNY CAMPY 80S MOVIES IM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW #WE JUST SAW THIS AT ALAMO DRAFTHOUSE FOR A MOVIE PARTY AND WE GOT PROPS I GOT A LIL GIZMO MASK AND STREAMER AND WE THREW PAPER PLATES JADGK #I DID RESEARCH FOR THIS #THIS IS THE MESSIEST FIC BUT NOW ITS MY FAVORITE THANK YOU SO SO MUCH REY OK ILL STOP YELLING NOW AAAAAAAAAA #like i saw ur ask and went :000 and immediately sat on the floor with my laptop #fun fact: the first i ever saw of gremlins was when i was 6 at a sleepover and all the Big Kids were watching it in the living room like #'u guys this is like way too scary :( u guys are liddle babies u cant watch this :(' #and then us liddle babies snuck in at some point and hid behind the sofa and when i peeked up #it was the scene with the gremlin exploding in the microwave #*chefs kiss* #never been the same since #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson oneshot #mine

[spoingle-doingle]

bylerrrsss hear me out!! I have such a story to tell!!

so. my best friend told me that she created me a profile on our local dating app or smthing and pretended to be me while communicating with people, who liked my dating questionnaire (i was shocked at first but quickly got excited and amused). for obvious reasons, she didn't place my personal photo, but she placed a picture of Mike and Will instead, and apart from my hobbies also wrote "byler – canon!" AND OH MY GOD, YOU WON'T BELIVE HOW MANY PEOPLE LIKED THIS QUESTIONNAIRE I actually had a full jaw-drop moment!!!! because many of those people were boys. I was so fucking surprised and delighted to know that some boys in my town ship byler. Jesus H. Christ what a day I live in

#byler #i'm not joking there are TONS of people who liked that goddamn questionnaire #people are standing in queues

[wizzard890]

heretic update - oh shit

I have to be honest guys, things went absolutely catastrophically for Andreas last session. he lost everything on a wave of his own choices, made hotly, sometimes intelligently, always passionately, and the consequences have set him back so hard that his only way out of darkness was a terrible and genuine spiritual awakening. 

it’s great. 

when we last left Andreas, it was with his friend Bernadetta accused of witchcraft. her only chance was the successful recreation of an ancient Christian ritual that Andreas hoped to enact while she was on the pyre. he did not believe in God’s grace or goodness, or the inherent power of the story. instead he wanted to trick a miracle out of God, to create the same circumstance in which He had interceded before. 

it didn’t work. 

Bernadetta indeed ended up on the pyre. she actually started to burn. nothing Andreas had done protected her, and as he became aware of his awful mistake, of his arrogance, he heard her through the smoke, calling out to God. he heard her start to sing as her eyes were opened by something he was blind to. just then, when all hope seemed lost, it began to rain out of a formerly clear sky, dousing the flames, and lightning struck the tree above the pyre, blasting any remainder of Andreas’s carnival of a ritual apart. Bernadetta was saved by a miracle, one she had earned. she said, afterward, nearly insensible but with a blazing focus in her eyes, that she had seen an angel. 

Andreas had seen nothing. he had seen nothing, and found himself suddenly arrayed against a God, a divinity, who had reached out of heaven and granted Bernadetta a vision. he didn’t know where his path was supposed to take him now. all his anger, all the furious questions he wanted to spit at God’s feet when he found Him - they seemed to shrink. they seemed, with a painful clarity, questions for a man. one who had never loved him, who had hurt him. they were questions for his father, recently dead at Andreas’s own hand. 

then the English army arrived. 

(do not forget, never forget, that it’s 1347.)

Edward, the crown prince of the very same, remained imprisoned under Andreas’s sorcery, forced to protect the young comte with his life. the two of them had formed a certain rapport, something that grew out of the scaffolding of watching one another like cats for a mistake. guess which of them fucked up first?

Andreas planned to surrender to the English, on the condition that he and his friends would remain unharmed. as a French noble in the Aquitaine, Andreas somewhat welcomes English rule, and more to the point, if the French took Poitou, Edward would mastermind the rest of his campaigns from Andreas’s palace, which would keep Blanche nearby. Andreas swore, over and over again, that he would do whatever was necessary to stay with her. 

so he and Edward agreed: Andreas would stand down without a fight, Edward would rule from Poitou, and Andreas would remain with him, protected, certain of his friends’ safety, and able to take Blanche, Edward’s impersonally betrothed, as his lover. 

it was a really really great idea, and a really really fucking stupid mistake. bind the prince of England with dark magic, this prince, and all you have is a jessed hawk, just waiting for you to drop your glove and turn your back. 

the English army wasn’t in the palace for fifteen minutes before Edward had Andreas, Philippe and their allies seized and thrown in the dungeons. Blanche was swiftly placed under lock and key. only Bernadetta and Tomassin managed to escape unharmed. 

for three months, Andreas rotted away in the cells, very credibly accused of witchcraft. they were the same cells he’d been held in as a boy, as exorcists tortured him for weeks on end. he was fed and well taken care of - any harm visited on him would be refracted on Edward’s own body after all, and the crown prince was no fool. Andreas tried to hurt himself, just to make Edward feel an ounce of pain, but he failed. it’s hard to stab yourself, actually, or break your own fingers, or refuse food. it’s hard to hold onto your sanity in a stone room where your nightmares were born, with no hope of escape, knowing that you were the reason the people you love have been trapped and even killed. 

so Andreas waited. in the dark, filled with resentment, scraping himself back together every day out of pure spite. Edward wanted him caged and helpless. but from the very bedrock of his soul, Andreas refused to oblige him. maybe it was that refusal, that hatred, those repeated attempts to open his own skin out of sheer enmity, that brought the dark visitation. 

it began appearing in the blackest corners of the cell. not a shape: a presence. a formless predator. something with a terrible focus, the awful held breath at the very edge of a blade. and as Andreas became aware of it and how he could fit between its jaws, it advised him to be patient. to bide his time. it inquired, silently but with force, who his enemy was. it bid him to offer up their soul. Andreas named Edward, and promised the prince’s death to his visitor. for its aid and its vision. the pact was struck. 

it was the first sight of something Beyond this world that Andreas had ever encountered. it was the first thing that had ever gripped his soul and brought it shuddering to attention. Bernadetta saw an angel on the pyre, yes. but there in the dark of his cell, Andreas was visited by the Black Captain.

so he held onto the word that had been provided for him by that inhuman advisor: patience. he found that the hallucinations brought on by isolation began to fade. he felt himself getting stronger and sleeping better, though he didn’t need the latter much at all. it was like a transfusion of something hotter than blood. 

weeks passed. 

and then one morning, a young woman in a nun’s habit entered his cell, accompanied by a Spaniard with a sword on his back. the woman asked Andreas directly if he was a witch. shocked at the sight of the pair, he denied it reflexively. in response, she...read him, somehow, Andreas didn’t know what was happening, just that he felt some watery intrusion into his mind before she withdrew, seemingly satisfied. 

they needed to hurry, she told him with a grin as the Spaniard swung the cell door open wide. the guards would be coming soon. and if they wanted to get out of here alive, they needed to move. 

-

next update: escape! and what comes after. 

#anyway EVERYONE is asking what's going on in the campaign so here you go!!! #I figure I'll do this every two or so sessions #because let me tell you this shit is unreal #I was screaming last session #in shock and excitement and delight and oh christ no #this is why I love love love playing in this campaign with aria as my dm and only myself to blame: #andreas reaps what he sews and it's truly fantastic #I was literally clutching my face when edward betrayed (I mean 'betrayed-ish' let's be real) him #like oh fuck oh no but also excuse me edward how dare you be so raw and hot #the conflict I feel you guys #(also andreas's new fealty to the black captain means that we've completely abandoned the catholic code of ethics) #(and written one from scratch for here on out) #(it's an entire ethos that newly determines his ethics rolls and I have named it and am sickeningly excited about it) #(a moodboard is surely forthcoming) #anyway this is how I'm staying sane in quarantine and it whips ass #if thou but settest foot on this path thou shalt see it everywhere #ride or dice

[ashes-in-a-jar]

And I Owe it All to You

Hello! This is a fic I wrote based on @speakerunfolding 's wonderful Jonmartin scottish cabin comic which I couldn't stop looking at.

I wrote this while watching Dirty Dancing for the first time in many years. Quite an experience xD

Summary: It's a night in for Jon and Martin in the cabin and they decide to pop out the wine.

Rated: T

Word count: 2.2K

Tw: alcohol, drinking and being slightly drunk, minor injuries

Maybe it was the fact that neither of them had gone out much in the past few months. Maybe the Fears prefer their avatars lightweight. Maybe Scottish alcohol tended to be stronger than English alcohol. But the sparkling wine they bought on a whim at the village store shouldn't have had the effect on them that it did.

Having emptied two cups each (Jon was actually drinking out of a mug, since they found only one wine glass, and he conceded the honor of feeling classy to Martin) they have already become giggling messes over some dumb joke regarding one Peter Lukas and a computer that refused to boot.

It wasn't even that funny. But there they were, acting like complete fools leaning against each other on the couch, legs propped up in a completely uncomfortable position on the small living room table (dangerously close to the now nearly empty bottle), holding their cups precariously in one hand and holding hands with the other.

And enjoying every moment of it.

The giggling subsided. They took a moment of comfortable silence to regain their breath and enjoy another sip.

"Can't believe he didn't know he could just u-unplug and replug the whole thing. Even I know that." Jon's speech was ever so slightly slurred, his leftover wine sloshing in his cup.

Martin hummed and then snorted.

"Jon, you barely know how to do that either. I had to teach you how to open new tabs in the same internet window for christ's sake."

"It was a new laptop! All of the buttons were in the wrong p-place." Jon protested weakly, starting to hiccup.

"Sure."

"Prick." Jon nudged him fondly. "You underestimate my vast knowledge of 'modern' things."

Martin snorted again. "Modern, you say?"

"Yes Martin, what do you take me for?"

"An old geezer." Martin tousled his hair gently. Jon leaned into the touch. Then, the words sunk in.

"Hey! Why do you and Georgie keep thinking that? I can know pop culture!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me, what do you know?"

"Uh..." Jon struggled to straighten himself, which resulted in actually sliding further off the couch. "Um...I know S-Star Wars! And uh, Matrix? I think. I've seen it once. Oh! That, that dinosaur movie! And... Titanic?" He finished unconvincingly. 

Martin looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Jon? You're just naming movies now.  And not even new ones. Did you actually watch any of those?"

Jon avoided his gaze "I... I may have fallen asleep during uh, during some of these?"

Martin gave him a long look. 

"Yes alright, I fell asleep in all of them."

Martin huffed "Thought so". 

Jon gave up trying to salvage his dignity, taking a final long gulp from his mug, a small drop trickling down his chin. Martin swiped it away, absent-mindedly licking his finger, not noticing as Jon hiccuped, his face heating up considerably. 

"I-I did like the Princess Bride though— that was a nice film, if a bit sensational." 

"Hang on. You watched the Princess Bride? And liked it?" Martin asked, incredulous. 

"I'm allowed to like things, Martin. B-besides, Georgie made me watch it. Said it was a- a core staple of cinema history o-or something."

"Oh yeah? Did she make you watch those other movies as well?" Martin asked casually, swirling the liquid in his cup. 

"Unfortunately yes. She would cruelly  shake me awake when I finally managed to get some shut-eye for once in my life. I-it's not my fault the only times I could sleep normally were during those, those damn films! She woke me up for that ridiculous scene with the, uh, the bullets in the Matrix. And that lifting scene in that unseemly dancing movie."

"What lifting scene?" 

"That movie with all of the dancing? Th-the one where he lifts her at the end in the middle of the crowd with that song? At least, uh, at least I think there was a lot of dancing, I wasn't actually, hmmm... Focused at the time." 

"Oh my god Jon, do you mean Dirty Dancing? You fell asleep during Dirty Dancing?" Martin's delighted incredulity was plain on his face. 

Jon scrunched up his nose. "That's the name of the film? Good thing I fell asleep then."

"Jesus Jon. That's incredible, good on Georgie! Heh, at least you woke up for that scene. It's iconic, you know." 

"Yes, yes." Jon waved at him dismissively, reaching unsteadily for the wine bottle. Martin gently took it away from Jon and with a much steadier hand, poured the remaining bit of wine into his mug.

"Thank you Martin," Jon mumbled into the cup. 

Another warm silence fell on them, lulling Jon into a half drunken stupor. He nearly threw his cup in the air when Martin's words startled him back into awareness. 

"I can do that scene you know, that lifting part." He was looking intently at his glass. 

"R-really?" Jon hiccuped. "How?" 

"I… I had a boyfriend who wanted to try it. So we did. Turns out that I'm good at balancing large things that aren't stacks of paper."

Jon hummed. He suddenly imagined very vividly Martin lifting someone else in that way and felt a pang in his chest. What was that?

Another beat of silence. 

"Do. Do you want to try?"

"W-what?" 

"Do you want to do that lifting scene with me? I'm sure I could lift you." Martin suddenly sat up, his tone excited and anticipating. He looked at Jon. 

Jon shifted. "Uh, I-I guess it's fine? Sure."

"Okay! Let's do it then!" Martin got up on his feet, swaying ever so slightly. 

Jon looked up at him surprised. "W-wait, now? Shouldn't we wait? You know, to be less uh, inebriated? Don't you need to see the scene again for a reminder?"

"Mmm. We don't have reception so I can't exactly watch the scene again. But, but I'm pretty sure I can do it now, definitely sure! Come on." He held out his hand expectantly. 

Jon took it, stumbling only a bit as he got up. Martin took out his phone . 

"I might even have the song saved. Let me check."

A moment later he gave a whoop of success and the song began to play, filling the main space of the cabin with its soft, if slightly tinny sound. 

Jon stretched, releasing the tension in his muscles. "All right Martin, where do you want me?" 

"You need a bit of a running start, and then you need to jump high right as you reach my arms, so stand over there." He indicated towards the door of the bedroom. 

"Right." Jon stumbled only once as he made his way towards the designated spot. Martin moved across the room stopping right near the kitchen door. 

The song kept playing calmly in the background, slowly building up towards the upbeat chorus. 

Jon looked at him again "I dunno Martin. A-are you sure?" He suddenly felt a bit more fuzzy than he did sitting down. He hiccuped again. 

"Please Jon, you're thin as a rake. Have a little faith." His face wore that determined look that Jon couldn't help but love. 

"Alright, as you wish." He grinned, proud of his clever reference as he took his stance. 

Martin rolled his eyes as well as his sleeves. "Steady on Westley, this is the part."

Jon felt a rush of excitement as he caught Martin's enthusiasm. "Ready?" He asked, bouncing a little on his feet in preparation. 

"Ready." Martin crouched a little, holding out his arms. 

As the chorus neared Jon, with a wild drunken energy, took his running start, jumping up as he reached Martin, grabbing on to his shoulders for support. Martin firmly gripped Jon's hips, bent his legs and with a strained grunt lifted Jon in the air as the song reached a crescendo. 

Jon was flying. 

He laughed giddily, stretching out his arms in elation. 

As Martin continued holding him in his strong grip he looked down at his beautiful boyfriend. Despite the exertion, Martin looked up with the softest expression as the song kept playing for them in the background. 

For a moment everything was perfect. 

And then Martin leaned backwards a bit too far. 

In hindsight, they should have known this would happen. While Martin was better at hiding it, he was as drunk as Jon. And Jon's already impeded balance certainly didn't help. 

As they went down, Jon idly wondered if they could also recreate the rest of the dance if they practiced. And then he hit his nose on the floor. 

After a moment of stunned silence the pain rushed in and Jon grunted. 

Turns out that while most of him was protected from the fall by Martin's soft and sturdy body, his knee also missed the mark and crashed into the floor as well.

Muffled by Jon's body above him, Martin squirmed. "Ugh, Jon, are you okay?"

When Jon didn't respond, Martin groaned and picked himself off the floor, lifting Jon in the process. 

"Oh my god, Jon! You're bleeding!" 

Jon's face throbbed. And so did his knee. His hazy drunken state began fading away as the pain sharpened. 

"I-I think I hit something." 

"I'm so sorry Jon! God, where are the tissues?" Seemingly having sobered up considerably, Martin picked Jon up and carried him bodily into the bathroom. Jon allowed all of this to happen as the shock of the fall dissipated. He let Martin easily lift him onto the sink counter as he shoved a towel into his hands.

"Hold it against your nose while I... Jesus, your knee too?" He stepped back now hurriedly lifting the stained pant leg to reveal the damage. 

"God, Jon I'm so sorry. Hold still, I'm going to find the first aid kit. We shouldn't have done this. This was a complete disaster." 

He kept muttering irritably as he walked away. Jon sighed and pressed the towel to his throbbing nose. His foggy mind still felt as though it was trying to catch up to the recent chain of events. He spoke slowly, attempting to convey himself with clarity. 

"Martin, it's fine. Honestly, I think we both know I've had worse-" 

"You nearly broke your bloody neck! God, where's that goddamn kit." He shouted from across the cabin as Jon heard the rattling of drawers being forcefully pulled open. 

"Martin, please I-I'm okay. It's just a little bit of bruising. It honestly already feels better." 

And it actually did. In the chaos after the fall, they both forgot Jon's... situation. Jon watched as the cut on his knee slowly closed up, leaving only the drying stain of blood behind. The pain in his nose was slowly vanishing as well. 

By the time Martin came back holding the bag, Jon already put down the towel and was tentatively poking at the previously bruised spot. 

Martin stopped in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of emotions Jon couldn't parse out. He smiled at Martin hesitantly. 

"See? Good as new. No harm no foul, I say."

Martin let out a long suffering sigh and took the towel out of Jon's hands. He quietly dampened it in the sink and stepped closer to gently pat at his face. 

Jon looked at him. This close he could practically count his faded freckles, follow every line and trace every mark that was so beautifully Martin. He let himself smile. 

"I must say, I'm quite impressed by your strength, if we weren't so inebriated, I'm sure you could have kept me up there for quite a while," he said quietly, enjoying the fluttering touches. 

"It wasn't because I was drunk." Martin muttered. 

"Pardon?" 

"I said it wasn't because I was drunk that I dropped you," he said a little louder, oddly flustered. "I was looking at... At you. You just looked... I dunno, happy, I guess? I just never seen that expression on you before and it..." He trailed off, concentrating intently on Jon's knee, finishing up cleaning up the blood. 

"M-Martin, look at me. Please look up here." Jon gently tugged at his shoulders to pull him up. At this height, sitting on the counter, he actually came face to face with Martin, seeing his blush and ruffled expression right in front of him as opposed to slightly above him like he normally did 

He lifted his palms to bracket Martin's warm cheeks. 

"There you are," he whispered and leaned in for a quick kiss. He then leaned back slightly. "You know that I'm perfectly happy. Here with you. Y-you know that, right?" 

Martin looked at him for a few moments, then smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, help me down so we can clean up the wine stain, which I'm sure is growing on the carpet right now."

"Wha- oh," Martin said as he turned to see the fallen glass that apparently toppled during the mayhem. 

"Yeah. Let me down?" Jon said again, holding out his arms. 

Martin turned back to him, a teasing expression on his face. "As you wish." 

Jon groaned and allowed himself once again to be pulled, secretly enjoying Martin's burst of giggles as they both walked back into the crime scene that was their drunken night in. 

All things considered, it was a pretty good night. 

#Ahhhh i had so much fun writing this #While watching the movie itself xD #I hope you like it! #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #fabric rustles #tma fic #My tma fic #Tma art #I guess #Because its based on it so

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Epilogue 3: A Love So Tender

A/N:  Well, here it is, folks...the last epilogue of The President Wears Prada series.  It’s been a blast.  Like with Alone, Together and The Storm Before the Calm, we’ve created a little community on this blog, except this time we joined together during quarantine and a global pandemic!  I posted the prologue to this April 27th (so right in the thick of it lol) and I’ve been so happy giving you guys something to look forward to every Monday these past eight months!  Keep asking your Willberdeen canon questions forever and ever!

Be on the lookout for the post date of my Brock Boeser mini-series “Peaceful Easy Feeling” -- I’ll announce it and put it on my Masterlist.  Then, I’ll start my next big series!

As always, happy reading :)

March 2034

“Mooooommmmmyyyyyy!  Mommy look!” six-year-old Saoirse Nylander ran through the house to the kitchen where she knew her mom was ready with breakfast.  “Look!  Daddy let me do my own hair!”

Aberdeen looked down at her daughter to see her blonde hair fixed in to a half ponytail…well, a six-year-old’s version of a half ponytail.  Aberdeen smiled down at her daughter.  “Looks good!” she smiled.  “Can I fix it a little bit before we go to Andy and Maia’s house?”

“Can I eat first?” Saoirse asked as Aberdeen heard more footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Of course!  Your oatmeal is right over there,” she nodded her head towards the bowl already set up for her daughter.  As Saoirse moved and climbed into the counter stool to eat, Aberdeen looked to her left to see William enter the room, holding their three-year-old son in his arms.  “My two Williams,” she smiled.

“Mowning mama,” William Jr. said as Willy placed him down in his own stool, his own bowl of oatmeal also ready to go.  

William walked around the island and gave Aberdeen a kiss on the cheek before placing his hand on her stomach tenderly.  “Morning, minskatt,” he said before pouring himself some coffee.  He looked back at his kids, eating their oatmeal.  “Are you excited to see Maia, Saoirse?”

“Mhm,” she smiled.  “Can I bring my colouring book so Maia and I can colour?”

“Of course you can!” William smiled.  “You know how much Maia loves to colour with you.”

“When you and mommy get home, I’m gonna have a beeeeeeautiful picture,” Saoirse exclaimed before spooning some more oatmeal into her mouth.

Both Aberdeen and William looked at their fridge, adorned with ripped out pages from colouring books that Saoirse and William Jr. did for them.  “We can’t wait,” Aberdeen smiled.

***

“Mr. and Mrs. Nylander, I know that we’ve confirmed your pregnancy,” Dr. Collinson spoke to the happy couple.  

“We needed the tie-breaker,” William joked.

“Indeed,” he chuckled.  “But I must ask you both…have you gone through any fertility treatments that I’m not aware of?  IVF, artificial insemination?”

William and Aberdeen looked at each other before looking back at their doctor – the same doctor who had been there and helped birth Saoirse and William Jr.  “No…” William shook his head.  “We figured we were okay…I mean, with Saoirse’s and William’s pregnancies being pretty easy with no major complications, and the fact that we didn’t have to try for very long before Aberdeen got pregnant…” he trailed off.

Dr. Collinson nodded his head.  “That’s good to know.  Because I do have some further news for you.”

“What’s that?” Aberdeen asked.

“You’re having twins.”

The words hung in the air for an excruciatingly long period of time.  “Excuse me?” Aberdeen asked.

“Twins.  You’re having twins, Mrs. Nylander.”

Aberdeen looked over at William.  “I’m going to cut your penis off.”

***

“TWINS!!!!!” Bee exclaimed, jumping up and down as she hugged Aberdeen.  “Twins, Aberdeen!  Oh my goodness!”

“More Nylanders?” Morgan piped in.  “Christ almighty.”

***

“TWINS?!” Aleida was shocked when Aberdeen told her the news over the phone.  “Twins!”

“Who’s having twins?” Aberdeen could hear Fred’s voice in the background.

“Aberdeen and Will!”

There was a pause.  “More Nylanders?  Good God.”

***

“Twins, William?  You knocked her up with twins?” Jason deadpanned into the phone.

“We’ll have four, just like you,” William said.

“More Nylanders…Jesus Christ.”

***

“Oh!  What fantastic news!” Svea beamed over the FaceTime call.  Elias was smiling beside her.  “You must be so excited, guys.”

“We are.  We joked that we were only supposed to have one tie-breaker though,” Aberdeen said, looking at William beside her briefly.  “Now we’re getting two.”

“Do you know the sexes?”

“Not yet.  In a few weeks they’ll tell us if they’re identical or fraternal, and I think that will be very informational,” William said.

“More Nylanders…” Elias shook his head.  “God help us all.”

***

“This is fantastic news, Aberdeen.  You’re such a great mom already,” Brendan said from across the table, his smile stretching from ear to ear.  “Saoirse and Will Jr – I mean they’re just delights.”

“Thank you, Brendan.  There will be two more to add to the MLSE family room during games.  Not to mention more Nylanders occupying the city of Toronto.”

“More Nylanders…wow.”

***

September 2034

The Toronto Maple Leafs and the entire MLSE organization would like to extend our heartfelt congratulations to William Nylander and his wife Aberdeen Bloom on the birth of their twins, Jonas Alexander and Astrid Elina.  Jonas and Astrid join big siblings Saoirse and William Jr.  

***

November 2035

BREAKING: Aberdeen Bloom, the youngest person ever to win the Booker Prize for Fiction, has just won the prize for a second time for her latest novel, A Love So Fond.  Bloom becomes the third woman (after Hilary Mantel and Margaret Atwood) to win the Booker Prize twice, but the first woman under forty to accomplish the feat.  

***

The First Monday in May, 2036

William looked at Aberdeen lovingly as she touched up her lipstick in the mirror of their hotel room.  She was wearing a beautiful dress, styled to perfection.  He was wearing a suit, tailored to equal perfection.  “You look beautiful, minskatt,” he said, hoping it would calm her down a bit.  He knew she was nervous.

She looked over at him as she clicked shut the lipstick tube.  “We’re going to the Met Gala, Willy,” she said as if it was the first time he’d heard the news.  He’d heard.  He’d heard for months now.  Anna Wintour invited them to the event.  Aberdeen screamed bloody murder when she got the invite.  “We’re going to the Met Gala.”

He giggled slightly.  “I know.  Who would have thought all those years ago two kids who hooked up the night of a graduation would make their way to the Met Gala.”

Aberdeen smiled.  “Who would have thought an aspiring writer and a hockey player would accomplish so much that we’d even get invited to the Met Gala.”

“I had nothing to do with this,” William shook his head, smiling.  “You did all of this.  I’m just in the background, remember?”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  The man in front of her supported her dreams without question.  There was nothing she thought of that William didn’t think she’d be able to accomplish.  Her two Booker Prizes were evidence of that.  Her Governor General’s Awards and Giller Prizes were evidence of that.  Her numerous other awards were evidence of that.  “You’re not in the background, Willy,” she told him once more.  It was something she told him time and time again, even though she knew he was joking.  To think he still used a joke he made when she was twenty-two years old…she couldn’t help but laugh.  “You’re the reason I’m able to do this.”

Their conversation was cut short by Aberdeen’s phone ringing.  When she dug it out of her purse, she saw Orla requesting a FaceTime call.  “It’s the kids again,” she said, holding up the phone and turning around so that when she answered it, whoever was calling would see both their parents.  When she accepted, she saw Saoirse’s face first.  “Hi baby,” Aberdeen cooed.  “Did you forget to tell us something?”

“Maia wants to know if she can come over this weekend to play.  Is that okay?” she asked.

“Of course,” William answered.  “I’ll talk to Uncle Morgan about it when we get home tomorrow night.”

“Let me see!” William Jr.’s voice was heard off camera.  Soon, Saoirse had turned the camera around so he could see his parents.  “Hi mom and dad.”

“Hi baby,” Aberdeen cooed again.  “Do you have a question too?”

“No,” he said.  “You look pretty, mama.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but swoon.  “Thank you, baby.  Are you having a good time at grandma and grandpa’s house?”

He nodded his head enthusiastically.  “Grandma just made popcorn!”

“Wooooo!  Movie night!” William exclaimed from behind her.  “Be good!  Go to bed on time.”

“I will,” William Junior nodded his head.  “Bye daddy.  Bye minskatt.”

Aberdeen furrowed her brows but couldn’t help but laugh at her son.  She could hear William chuckle from behind her too.  “William!  Why’d you call me that?!”

Williiam Junior didn’t know what the big deal was.  He knew he was named after his dad; it was only fitting that he test his limits and call his mom by her first name too.  “Daddy’s name is William, and my name is William, and your name is minskatt!  Daddy always calls you that!  Hi minskatt, bye minskatt, I love you minskatt.  Minskatt is your name!” he argued like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

William thought back to so, so many years ago.  To Aberdeen asking him why he called her minskatt and him telling her why.  A tear escaped his eye and he brought his hand up quickly to cover it.  Aberdeen noticed.  She looked back at William Jr.  “Okay William.  We’ll talk more when we get home, okay?  You better be good for grandma and grandpa.”

Aberdeen ended the call with a couple of more air kisses.  When she was finished, she placed her phone down and saw that William kept wiping his cheeks with his thumb.  “Hey…hey come here,” she said gently, walking over to him because she knew he wouldn’t move.  “Was it Junior?” she asked.

William nodded his head.  “You remember what I told you, like, fifteen years ago?  About why I call you minskatt?”

Aberdeen nodded her head automatically.  She’d never forgotten.  “Of course,” she said softly, bringing her hands up to wipe some of his tears away with her own thumbs.  “It was always your dream, wasn’t it?”

William nodded.  He leaned down slightly to kiss her, even though he knew he’d get lipstick on him and that Aberdeen would have to reapply it for the fourth time before they even left the hotel.  “I know you’ve accomplished so much with your writing and I’ve accomplished so much with hockey but my best accomplishment is you.  Us.  Our family.  The love I have for you.”

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She understood.  She knew.  “Mine too.”

“It’s been fifteen years.  Fifteen years and four kids, Aberdeen.  And still.  Still.  I think about you when I’m not even thinking.”

Aberdeen smiled.  She kissed him once more.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.”

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #william nylander blurb #toronto maple leafs blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #nhl blurb #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #hockey blurb #the president wears prada series

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: loosely based on ‘helpless’ from hamilton.

warnings: unwanted touching, spelling/grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.6k

“boy you’ve got me helpless, look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless.”

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

The Yule Ball was getting closer. After months of excitment, planning, giggling behind hands and whispering into peoples ears, the night was only a month away. The atmosphere of the school was strange, you went from fearing for your champion’s life, to happily gushing over outfits, dates and dancing, no one was complaining though, you’d much rather happily imagine then fear for friend’s lives. You were excited for the ball, there was no doubt about that. You spent days and nights daydreaming about the upcoming dance. Picturing the ball in your head was one of your favourite things to do to pass time, thoughts of Christmas themed decorations, gorgeous dresses and beautifully tailored suits, bright lights to match the spirit of joy noticeably in the air...

“y/n? Earth to y/n,” a small voice calls.

“y/n, you need to get your head out of the clouds.” a cold digit prods your face and you jump back.

“Christ, what the heck Mione!” You whisper-shout over to the girl next to you. Hermione simply laughs at your shock. “Your hands are so cold.” You shiver, pouting slightly.

“Oh don’t be so whiny. Pay attention, this is important.” She points to the front of the class where professor Binns is droning on and on about the giant wars. You groan quietly and prop your hand on your face again. “You know sometimes I hate how smart you have to be.” You mutter, scratching your quill against a blank scrap of parchment. Hermione rolls her eyes and continues her notes. “Has anyone asked you yet? To the dance I mean?” You lean onto your best friend’s shoulder. Hermione flushes an adorable pink, “as a matter of fact, yes,” you grin. “Ron finally plucked up the courage eh?” Hermione looks at you confused. “Who said anything about Ronald?” You immediately lift your head from her shoulder and clear your throat refocusing on the ghost professor. “Anyways. What was the name of that one giant again, the leader?” Hermione rolls her eyes again. “You need to be more specific y/n.” She continues to rattle on a list, giving you dates, and clan names in typical Hermione fashion. It seemed your distraction worked.

The dance was a couple days away now, and because you lost track of time you had yet to find a gown. You were thinking you would have to pay a visit to Hogsmeade sometime. As you open a package your mum sent you, your thoughts run short. A long red ball gown with tulle covering a beautiful satin sits before you, off the shoulder with a corset like top, you weren’t one to want to catch attention, but this dress was absolutely perfect. It took a second to snap out of your trancelike state, but you immediately picked up the dress to admire it. A handwritten note flutters from the dress to the floor, you pick it up.

‘Dear y/n, because I know you forgot. It’s in your size and everything, have fun my darling, write soon. - Love mum’

She knew you too well, you smile. Taking a minute you write a ‘thank you’ note to your mom and send it off with your owl. “Be careful out there.” You stroke her head before releasing the brilliant white owl and watching her fly into the distance.

Giddily, you run to the bathroom and step into the gorgeous dress. zipping it up was a struggle by yourself, but once it was on you could’ve fainted from happiness. You felt like a queen. Powerful and vibrant. You spent some time in the mirror simply twirling around, admiring the way the gown seemed to bring out the best in you and the way the fabric seemed to sparkle. you step out of it, cautious not to break anything and carefully fold it back into the box, happily carrying it to your trunk.

“What do you mean you don’t have a date yet?!” Hermione questions during lunch later that day.

“Mione, it’s nothing, I don’t need a date!” You reassure the fretting brunette. Hermione doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer. “This is ridiculous. This is impossible. Pansy Parkinson’s managed to scrape a date, how could no one have asked you?!”

“Well.” You rub the back of your neck nervously. “Someone did ask you? Why didn’t you accept? I know you’ve wanted to have a perfect dance at the ball for months!” Hermione inquires. “Well, that’s the thing.” You begin, taking a quick sip of tea. “I want it to be perfect, I can’t expect that from a joke like Cormac Mclaggen, now can I?” You explain, a deadpan look on your face. Hermione cringes and nods understandingly. “Don’t worry Mione, I’ll still get to dance. Maybe I’ll ask a friend.” You grin at the gryffindor in a reassuring manner. Hermione manages a weak smile, but she still didn’t like the fact that her best friend was going without a date to the dance she’d been dreaming about since it was announced.

Placing a gold necklace on your neck and slipping on your heels you sigh to yourself, “everything's gonna go great.” You tell yourself, practically manifesting a good night. Checking yourself in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a thumbs up. It was the night, The Yule Ball had finally arrived, and while you were excited, the fact you were stepping in alone made you nervous. Taking another deep breath you smoothen your hair out a bit and nod reassuringly to yourself.

You make your way down to the Great Hall in a hurry, receiving many compliments on the way down. Despite feeling bashful at first, you feel your confidence grow and begin to walk with a pep in your step. Hermione steps out of the crowd and spots you. “Blimey, y/n! Look at you!” She squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. You blush and squeeze her back. “Thank you Mione! Oh and look at you!” You step back to admire her dress. “You look absolutely stunning.” You smile as Viktor walks over and sticks his arm out for Hermione to take. “I’ll see you inside.” You whisper over to her, pushing her towards her date. She grins, taking Viktor’s arm and walks over to the other champions.

The doors finally open and everyone heads inside, loud gasps are audible as excited students make their way in. The decorations were everything you could’ve ever dreamed for. The Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland. The walls looked like they were covered in glistening ice. Long, shining icicles hung from the ceiling and three gorgeous evergreen trees were placed at the front of the room, elegantly decorated and covered in snow. Your mouth opens in a delighted smile.

The music begins and the champions begin their walk forward. You push your way to the front and clap excitedly as you spot Hermione, arm in arm with the Bulgarian Seeker. She waves back at you, an excited smile gracing her face as she begins to dance along with the other champions. It was strange, you saw these people fight for their lives, and here they were dancing. It was beautiful really, kind of funny when Harry would accidentally mess up.

Soon enough everyone is walking to their dates to begin dancing. Your shoulders sink a little as people begin to unite with their partners and smile moving across the dance floor. You look in the crowd for Hermione, hoping she’d help you find someone. You finally spot her a little while away and begin to walk towards her, slipping in between laughing couples, trying your best not to step on anyone’s toes. You raise your eyes above the crowd again, frantically in search of your best friend’s, but instead lock with a pair of beautiful brown orbs.

And suddenly you’re helpless.

Eyes full of determination, happiness. Eyes so mischievous, but serious at the same time. Staring into your soul, raising heat to your cheeks. He looks away, but your eyes are still focused on him.

“Y/n, there you are!” You turn and see Hermione dragging Viktor over to you. “Who is that?” You grab her arm, looking back over at the man who had captured your attention. Hermione’s head swivels over, eyes moving back and forth. “Fred? Are you talking about Fred?” She asks looking back to you, her eyebrows drawn together. “If you mean the handsome red-head with the cute brown eyes.” You smile giddily. Her face lights up. “You’re in luck, he’s here by himself too!” You look at her confused. “How do you-“

She laughs at your confused expression. “You really don’t know? That’s Ron’s older brother.” Your mouth goes agape at her statement, how did you not know him? She holds a finger to you, and makes her way across the room to Fred.

You start to panic, what was she up too? Hermione grabs Fred’s arm and begins to pull his arm. You come face to face with those pools of gorgeous brown again, but you don’t think he’s noticed you yet. Hermione starts to get closer, a laugh coming from her lips.

“Where are you taking me Granger?” Fred smirks, rolling his eyes at the persistent girl.

“Hurry up! I’m about to change your life!” Hermione grins ear to ear.

“Then by all means, lead the way.” Fred shrugs, giving in to Hermione’s insistent pulling.

Hermione finally stops in front of you and looks at Fred expectantly.

The Weasley’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, he has to blink the shock out of his eyes as he takes in the beautiful girl in front of him. She was absolutely stunning, especially in his house colours.

“y/n l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You greet sticking your hand out to him. “My best friend.” Hermione smiles, bumping shoulders with Fred. You roll your eyes at her antics and look to Fred again. “Lovely evening isn’t it.” You try and coax him from his dazed expression. Fred shakes his head slightly and finally breaks into a smile and takes your hand. “If it takes a cheesy, Christmas dance for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” The gryffindor presses a kiss to the back of your hand. You blush bashfully at the gesture, looking over to your best friend. Hermione smiles. “I’ll leave you to it.” She waves, making her way back to Viktor and resuming their conversation.

“May I have this dance y/n.” Fred rises, offering you his hand and dropping into a low bow. You roll your eyes, but grin, taking it into yours and placing your other on his shoulder. “Of course.”

Fred beams, putting his other hand on your waist. He begins to lead you in a waltz with the other couples. Your smile widens as he twirls you and catches you in his arms again, pulling you closer to his chest. “You’re quite the dancer Fred.” you giggle. “Why thank you darling.” He smirks, leaning you back into a dip. “So tell me a bit more about yourself y/n.” He asks, taking your hand into his again and gliding you across the dance floor. You think for a moment before answering. “Well, I’m in y/h, in my fourth year, my favourite subject is defense against the dark arts and I love quidditch. What about you?” You inquire, pushing back some of the boy’s messy, long hair that had made it’s way onto his eyes. A pink hue appears on his freckled cheeks as his smile pushes his dimples in the most adorable way. “Well as you may have guessed, I’m a gryffindor, in my sixth year, don’t really fancy any class and I too love quidditch, you may have seen my lovely self on the pitch.” He teases.

It all made sense now, he was one of the Weasley twins, Ron’s older brothers, you had yet to meet, you felt stupid not recognizing him sooner, but you’d only seen him on the pitch while he was flying around like a blur on his broom, so it did kind of make sense.

You nod your head. “I think so, you’re quite the beater from what I’ve seen.” You laugh as Fred twirls you once again. As you land in his chest though, he stops dancing, instead just looking deep into your eyes.

“Hope this isn’t too much y/n, but I have to say you look gorgeous tonight.” Fred guides you out of the crowd, walking you to a secluded, more quiet area. A dopey grin breaks out on your lips and you take his hands into yours. “Thank you Fred, you look rather dashing yourself.” You poke at his chest. A cheerful smile makes it’s way onto Fred’s face. “Hey I’m gonna go grab a drink, do you want anything?” Fred questions, jabbing a thumb over to the refreshment table. “A pumpkin juice would be great.” You answer, realizing you too were parched.

“Alright, sit tight love, I’ll be back in a moment.” Fred slowly starts to walk away, waiting till the last possible second to let go of your hand and turn around.

You sigh and sit down in the chair behind you, smoothing out your dress and fixing up your hair a bit. You couldn’t believe how well the night was turning out. Not only did you find someone to dance with, but he was absolutely amazing. And Godric those mesmerizing eyes that put you in a trance and made you feel absolutely helpless.

“Hey y/n!” a cocky voice shouts to you. You sigh annoyed, turning your head around you come face to face with Cormac Mclaggen, the guy you rejected. Oh this was going to be great. “Oh, hi Cormac.” you greet back awkwardly. “I noticed you were all by yourself over here, looking all pathetic, so I thought I’d take pity on you and come offer you a dance.” The blonde quips, puffing out his chest in an arrogant demeanor. You roll your eyes at his behavior and notice Fred on his way back to you, holding on to your beverages. You stand to greet him, but Cormac takes that as a ‘yes’ to dance with him. “That’s what I thought.” He smirks as he places one hand on your hip and one on your bum. You freeze and swivel your head to look menacingly at him.

“Cormac. Get. Off” you emphasize each word, trying to push him off of you, but his grip is tight. “What? You know you want it baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his fingers deeper into your hips, you can feel his nails digging into you too, his gross breath getting closer to your neck.

You’re about to knee him in the place where the sun doesn’t shine, when a hand firmly grips onto Cormac’s shoulder and rips him off of you. “I’d listen to the lady if I were you Mclaggen.” Fred’s familiar voice warns the arrogant gryffindor. “Oh, and what are you going to do Weasley?” Cormac scoffs turning to face the significantly taller boy. Fred rolls his eyes, ��not me buddy, her.” He points to you. Cormac turns, confused but it’s too late. you’ve already pulled out your wand and pointed it to the cocky gryffindor’s chest. “Petrificus Totalus!” You mutter under your breath as the gryffindor begins to seize up and fall onto the floor in a heavy ‘thump’. Inaudible to everyone else due to the loud music.

“Have a nice rest of your evening Mclaggen.” Fred waves sarcastically and pulls you away from the asshole, leading you out of the Great Hall, drinks still in hand. “Are you alright darling?” He turns back to you, placing the drinks down on the floor and holding your cheek in his hand, looking for any signs of injury.

“He dug his fingers into my hips, there’ll probably be a bruise there tomorrow.” You wince as you run a hand over your left hip, feeling the forming bruise. “Not if i can help it,” Fred pulls out his own wand and hovers it over your side. “Episkey.” He murmurs, hoping this will help soothe your pain. Your hip feels hot, and then very cold, and when you prodded at it again the pain was gone. You keep poking at it to make sure you’re correct, and the pain is really gone! You’re eyes light up and you wrap Fred in a hug. “Thank you Freddie!” You laugh gratefully, knowing Cormac will have left no mark behind. “Of course.” He grins wrapping his arms around your torso.

 “You know, I like it when you say my name like that.” He smirks, pulling back with a teasing look in his eye. “Oh? Then I’ll make sure to say it more often, Freddie.” You giggle, intertwining your hand in his.

“That was badass what you did back there darling, should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw your wand.” Fred smirks, thinking back to the hilarious expression Cormac made as he fell to the ground. You smile proudly. “He got what he deserved, probably harassed dozens of girls tonight.” You roll your eyes at the thought, Mclaggen just couldn’t take a ‘no’. Fred has a proud look on his face. “I bet you’re quite the dueler.” You smirk. “One of the best.” Fred laughs and glances back at the open doors of the Great Hall.

“You still want to go back in?” Fred squeezes your hand. Pondering it for a moment, a thought pops into your head. “You know what, I have a better Idea.” You grin, pulling Fred into a run as you begin to lead him around the castle, your drinks long forgotten. You run with him into the clocktower courtyard and turn to face him again, your gown giving a satisfying ‘swish’ as you turn around. You look down and straighten out your dress again, twirling yourself to get a nice breeze on your legs.

Fred watches in adoration as you twirl around in the night, the snow glistening around you like something out of a magazine. You reminded him of muggle fairy tale, something about a fairy princess, but not even she could compare to your mesmerizing beauty. He walks over to you and takes your hands in his again. He waits until he can hear the faint music from the Great Hall before he begins to dance with you again, twirling you around, gliding across the snowy ground and holding you tight against his chest, enjoying the feeling of your warm hands against him. As the song ends he leans you into a low dip again, but instead of pulling up, he stays there and gazes at you with a soft expression written on his features. “What?” you ask with a small giggle, your hands resting on Fred’s shoulders.

He pauses for a minute, choosing his words carefully. 

“Y/n I don’t have a dollar to my name, an acre of land, a troop to command, a dollop of fame. All I have’s my honor, a tolerance for pain, a couple of Hogwarts credits and my top notch brain.” He teases. “This might be weird since I just met you today, and I may not be able to give you the greatest life, but as long as I’m alive y/n, I swear to God you’ll never feel alone. Would you let me take you out on a proper date, and one day make you mine?” He asks hopefully, finally pulling you up from the dip and pressing his forehead against yours. You feel yourself weakening at his poetic confession, his words awakening something inside you and bringing a feeling of pure joy.

“Fred, I’ve never felt so helpless, just looking into your eyes and the sky’s the limit, I’m helpless. Yes, of course, I’d love to go on a date Freddie!” You squeal happily as a dark blush coats your cheeks, looking into his honey-like orbs.

Fred grins happily, pressing a kiss to your forehead and hugging you close again, holding onto you like a lifeline. “Freddie. You missed.” You laugh, reluctantly pulling back and tapping your lips. Fred smirks. “Whatever my lady wishes” He teases, but his happiness is evident as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek and slowly brings his face closer to yours. When your lips finally meet, they mold together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces. His lips are warm and soft, a taste of fire whisky lingering from a drink he must’ve had. The two of you pull apart and look lovingly into each other’s eyes. The kiss was chaste, but still had you weak in the knees, you probably would’ve fell if it wasn’t for Fred’s arms.

This night was more magical than you could’ve ever dreamed of. You got your dance, a wonderful date, and a marvelous time. You couldn’t believe you how lucky you were to have met Freddie tonight.

Getting lost in his gorgeous brown eyes once again you shiver, finally realizing you were still in the winter snow. “Hope this isn’t too cheesy love.” He teases as he slips off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. “It’s perfect Freddie, thank you.” You say as you lean into his shoulder and begin to rock back and forth with him again. He places his hands on your hips again in a gentle, loving manner and you smile up at him again. As he smirks down at you, eyes full of adoration and happiness, you knew, he was the only one who could make you feel this helpless.

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #hamilton #helpless #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #hamiltrash #weasley twins #hermione granger #hamilton x harry potter #harry potter fandom #hamilton fandom #harry potter #fluff #song fic #x reader

[waitimcomingtoo]

Heyyyyy baby! Okay, I don't know if I'm the only one who's experienced this but did it ever happen to you that you're really good friends with someone in a platonic way and then one night you have a dream about them and you just wake up with this weird crush? Making you notice things about them? Maybe you could do a Tom x Co-star reader oneshot based on this? I'd want reader to be working on Spiderman then we could explore her relationship with the rest of the cast. But that's up to you. ;*

Don’t Dream It’s Over

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Masterlist

“Don’t be scared. I got you.” A smirk lit up Peters face before he slipped his mask on as you peered off the ledge hesitantly.

“What if I fall?” You chewed your bottom lip.

“Don’t worry about that, pretty girl.” He said softly as he held your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “I’m always gonna be here to catch you.”

“Okay.” You agreed, and Peters pumped his fist in the air.

“You might wanna hold me a little tighter.” The eyes of his mask widened in excitement as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “For safety reasons, of course.” He added timidly.

You rolled your eyes at him but complied. You wrapped both arms around his neck and fit yourself as close against his body as you could.

“You ready?” He asked you and you nodded.

“You’re gonna love this.” He said excitedly and stepped off the building. You began to fall freely until and a scream ripped through your throat. Peter shot a web at a nearby building and you were suddenly lit flying upwards, wind rushing in your ears.

“Don’t let me go!” You squealed and tucked your face into Peters neck.

“I won’t.” He laughed in delight as he swung towards another building. Sensing your fear by how tightly you were clutching him, he decided to land. He swung towards a building and landed gracefully on the rooftop. You still held him tightly and he let out a chuckle.

“You can let go now.” He said shyly, not that he wanted you to. You slowly slid your arms down and opened your eyes.

“How was that?” Peter asked you as he removed his mask. He noticed the look on your face and worried that he had upset you. “Did you not like it? We don’t have to do it again.” He said apologetically. You flung your arms around Peters neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. When Peter recovered from the surprise, he kissed you back and let his hands rest on your hips.

“I love you.” You mumbled against his lips when you pulled away. The corner of his mouth tweaked up in a half baked smile. “I’ve felt it for a while. I don’t feel scared when I’m with you. I feel like I can do anything. Isn’t that love?”

“I think it is.” He nodded, eyes full of hope.

“Then why are you just standing there?” You asked him and he made a face that showed he didn’t understand. “Kiss me.”

The moment your lips touched Peters, your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your trailer. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you sat up in bed. Even though it was just a dream, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach that it was over. You felt oddly disappointed, and a little dazed. You had hours upon hours worth of fittings and rehearsal to look forward to that day, but there was only thing on your mind: Had Peter Parker always been that cute?

You’d seen Tom in his Spider-Man suit a million times since filming began, but the thought of him in that red and blue was making your heart skip a beat that morning. You rushed out of bed to get dressed, suddenly feeling eager to see him. You threw on a dress he had complimented once before and smiled at your appearance before something dawned on you.

“Oh shit.” You whispered.

You now had a crush on Tom Holland.

You sped walked out of your trailer on high alert. You spotted Zendaya by the makeup trailer and waved her over.

“DAYA!” You shouted. “Daya come here.”

“What’s wrong girlie? You look like you’ve had a fun morning.” She folded her arms and laughed at the panicked look in your eyes.

“You know when you have one of those dreams that make you wake up with a crush on a person you thought you could never have a crush on?” You asked her quietly and she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh shit. Are you asking me out?” She teased you and you clenched your jaw.

“No, Daya. It wasn’t you.” You looked around for anyone who might be listening and quieted your voice. “It was Tom. Well, it was Peter. But now I think I like Tom.”

“Everyone knows that.” She shrugged you off and you scoffed.

“No, everyone speculates that.” You corrected her and she pursed her lips. “I honestly never had feelings for him until now. How am I supposed to act around him?” You whispered harshly.

“Just act like you always do.” She said and you groaned. You ran your fingers through your hair and tugged it.

“I can’t even remember how I used to act. All I can think of is that damn suit.” You folded your arms and blew out a breath. Zendaya looked you up and down and cocked her head.

“Damn, girl. What kind of dream was this?” She raised an eyebrow and you shoved her playfully.

“It wasn’t like that. It was romantic. I kissed him.” You insisted and she nodded skeptically.

“How did the kiss feel?” She interrogated you.

“I mean, I left my earthly body and saw the time knife but that’s it. It wasn’t anything special.” You dismissed it and Zendaya let out a laugh.

“So mediocre then?” She asked sarcastically. “Just talk to him. It’s the only way to tell if these feelings are real or just from your dream.”

“What do I say?” You asked desperately.

“I can’t think of everything. You need to take it from here.” Zendaya told you and you nodded reluctantly.

“You’re right. I’ll talk to him.” You squeezed her arm and walked away. You only got a few paces before you ran into a lady from the props department.

“Hey, Y/n.” She greeted you. “Could you take this to props please?”

“Oh, sure.” You smiled at her and took the fake knife she was holding. You kept walking and tried to think of a plan for what you were going to say to Tom.

“Hey there Juliet.” Jacob nodded at you. You stopped in your tracks so hard that your shoes skidded.

“Juliet? What have you heard?” You held the fake knife up to his throat and he held up his hands in defense.

“Woah there ku’uipo. Relax.” He chuckled and you lowered your knife. “I was just referring to the knife. You know how those crazy kids killed each other in old England.”

“Romeo and Juliet takes place in Verona.” You said and Jacob made a face like he didn’t understand.

“It’s in Italy. And they killed themselves.” You corrected again. “Why are we talking about this?”

“You’re right. What we should be talking about is what you think I heard.” Jacob smirked. Knowing Jacob wouldn’t drop the subject, you confessed.

“Have you ever had one of those dreams that makes you wake up with a crush on someone?” You whispered and he nodded.

“Yeah. I had one just last week and now I’m in love with Jake Gyllenhaal.” He said seriously and you glared at him. “Why, have you ever you ever had one of those dreams?”

“No.” You said quickly.

“Then why did you ask?” He challenged you.

“Ask what?” You played dumb.

“I…I don’t remember.” He blanked.

“You asked me if you could bring this knife back to props. And I said yes.” You lied and handed him the knife.

“Okay.” He shrugged and began to walk towards the props department. Jacob turned around again with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Tom.” He stated, and your heart stopped.

“What?” You faked a laugh.

“You dreamt about Tom.” He said, sure of himself this time.

“What? No.” You tried to lie but saw no use. “How did you know that?”

“Hawaiian intuition.” He tapped his head twice.

“That’s not a thing.” You accused him.

“Oh yeah? Then how did I know you’re crushing on Tom?” He asked you with a knowing smirk.

“I think Props is really missing that knife.” You tried to get out of the situation by sending him away.

“Alright. See you around, Juliet.” He saluted you with the knife and walked away. You swallowed thickly and soon as you turned around, you were met with Tom smiling face.

“Hey Y/n!” He greeted and you jumped back.

“Christ on a bike, Tom. You scared me.” You clutched your hand over your heart.

“Sorry, love.” He laughed softly, making your knees weaken beneath you. “Why was Jacob carrying a knife?”

“It was a prop knife. You could find it at a dollar store. It’d probably be more than a dollar, though. My guess is $3.99. Are you excited for the holidays? I am.” You rambled and Tom tilted his head in confusion.

“Are you okay?” He chuckled, taking a step closer to you and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Are you kidding? I’m fine. It’s almost crazy how fine I am. How are you? Are you parents doing okay? They were so nice to me last time I saw them.” You said through a smile and Tom snorted.

“Yeah, you are pretty fine.” Tom commented and you gulped loudly.

“God in Heaven.” You said in a straggled voice and looked up at the sky.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Tom said, thinking he offended you. “I just meant that I think you’re pretty. I’m sorry if that was inappropriate.”

“No, no, no.” You stammered and he relaxed. “Totally appropriate. Don’t even worry about it. I don’t even remember it. What were we talking about again?”

“That I think you’re pretty.” He played along and you pretended to remember.

“Were we? That’s crazy. You’re a crazy guy, Holland. One crazy son of a gun. But I uh, I think you’re pretty too.” You said quietly as you looked down at your shoes.

“Hey uh, did you hear about the crazy actress who killed her costar?” You asked suddenly and he furrowed his brows.

“No, oh my God. Who?” He wondered.

“Reese.” You nodded and looked past him.

“Witherspoon?” He asked in shock.

“No. With her knife.” You gave the punchline and grimaced. “I’m so sorry. That was a bad joke.”

“I thought it was funny. I always think you’re funny.” He smiled. Your breath hitched in your throat at his gaze. You’d never noticed how pretty his eyes were, or the little flecks of gold embedded in them.

“I , well, you — but you know, it’s just — I didn’t even uh, it was just a joke so, you know.” You stammered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked you and you felt your palms beginning to sweat.

“Never been better, Peter.” You gave him a thumbs up, not realizing your slip up.

“Peter?” He repeated and your face fell.

“I didn’t say Peter.” You said quickly, eyes shifting to the left.

“I’m pretty sure you did.” He looked you up and down, wondering why you were acting so funny around him today. His stare only made you worse.

“Really? That’s funny, you must be hearing things. Hold on a minute, COMING DAYA.” You yelled behind you as if you were being called.

“I didn’t hear Zendaya calling you.” Tom said skeptically, beginning to think you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Wow Tom, you better get your ears checked. They are all out of wack, my man.” You laughed nervously as you began to back away. “I gotta go help Daya with something but I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay. Have fun.” Not too much fun, though.” He joked and you pointed finger guns at him, immediately killing you inside.

“Fank yew! It’ll be an alright time, it will.” You shouted in a cockney accent. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hand. “I’m so sorry. I regret that so much. Can you please forget I just did that?” You pleaded with him.

“Might be a little hard to forget, love. I think it seared itself into my frontal lobe.” He tapped the side of his head and smiled at you. You gave him a big smile and hurried away. You stormed all the way to Zendaya’s trailer and shut the door behind you.

“I cannot believe that just happened.” You whined and covered your face with your hands.

“Woah there. Why are you all red?” Zendaya put down her script and laughed at your appearance.

“Because Tom just tried to talk to me and I forgot how to person.” You yelled in frustration, only making her laugh harder.

“I’m sure it was fine. It’s just Tom.” She insisted in dismissal.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed. “It’s just Tom. So how come when he looked at me, my brain told me to go EFF myself and put on a Nikki Minaj song.”

“Oof. That bad, huh? What song?” She asked you, amused with your embarrassment.

“Super Bass.” You half smiled. “The whole time Tom is talking to me I hear “this one is for the boys with the booming system. Top down, AC with the cooler system.” I couldn’t even think straight!” You whined.

“You’ve been friends with Tom for years.” She pointed out. “What happened?”

“It was that stupid dream! I had a dream we were in love and now I’m whipped. Whipped like…” You trailed off when you couldn’t think of the right word.

“Whip cream?” She raised an eyebrow and you glared at her.

“Shut up. I feel ridiculous.” You sighed and took a seat on her bed. You rested your head on her shoulder and she rubbed your back.

“I’m sure he didn’t think you were ridiculous.” She said quietly. “And look on the bright side.”

“Which is?” You asked her as you plopped down in her swivel chair.

“There are worse people you could be crushing on. Tom is a really great guy. He ill, he real, he might gotta deal. He pop bottles and he got the right kind of build.” She said in a serious tone.

“The way I’m about to shadow kick you right now.” You said gravely as you looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m serious. He’s one of your best friends right? What’s so bad about him being your boyfriend?” She nudged you gently and you sighed.

“There’s nothing bad about it. But what if that’s not what he wants?” You asked quietly as you played with your fingers.

“Take a look at yourself in the mirror, model.” Zendaya spun your chair around to face the mirror as she tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “Of course that’s what he wants.”

“You better be right.” You looked at her in the mirror and she smiled at you.

“I am. Now come on. We have rehearsal on the Crown Jewels set.” She held you up out of the chair.

“I’ll meet you there in a second. I have to grab my script.” You told her before leaving her trailer. You went back to your trailer as she went to set.

~

“Is this mace real?” Jake asked as he weighed it in his hands as the rest of the cast went over their scripts.

“You really think they’d give us a real mace? Especially with you on set, Donnie Darko?” Jacob teased him and Jake began to play with the mace like it were a sword.

“Do they even make maces anymore?” Zendaya wondered, backing away from Jake a little as his swings gained momentum.

“Who’s they?” Jacob laughed.

“The blacksmithes.” Jake said seriously before we went back to moving his mace.

“Yeah, Jacob. Don’t you know about the blacksmiths?” Zendaya asked sarcastically, making a face at him.

“This thing is kinda heavy, though. Makes me want to swing it around and take down the leader of the Huns or something.” Jake realized as he began to swing his arm in a circle.

“Jake, put the prop down.” Jacob laughed nervously as Jake got a little too close with the mace.

“I physically cannot put it down. It’s in control now.” Jake insisted as he swung it around even harder.

“How are you the oldest and most childish person here?” Zendaya asked as she hide behind a suit of armor for protection.

“I feel so free.” Jake smiled wildly. “Is this how the vikings felt?”

“How would anyone here know that?” Zendaya sassed.

“And why do you want to know how the Vikings felt?” Jacob added.

“Hey guys.” You greeted the room happily only to get smacked in the mouth with the mace upon arrival. You collapsed to the floor and felt warm blood trickling down your face.

“Y/n! I am so sorry!” Jake covered his mouth with his hand when he realized what he had done. He bent down beside you and sent the mace down.

“Jesus? Is that you?” You asked groggily as you looked up at Jake.

“Yes. Jesus accidentally hit you in the mouth with a mace. But Jesus was just trying to feel like a Viking. Do you forgive Jesus?” Jake as he he picked your head up a little and let it rest on his hand to keep you elevated.

“Yes?” You asked in confusion as the corners of your vision began to blacken.

“She’s okay guys!” Jake called to Zendaya and Jacob. “But can we get a medic?”

Zendaya rushed out of the room to get a medic right as Tom entered it. He took one look at you on the floor and bloody and dropped to his knees.

“What the hell happened here?” Tom snapped as he took your hand. He dabbed some of the blood off your chin with his sleeve and saw a large cut on your mouth. He looked up at Jake for answers and Jake looked very sheepish.

“Someone hit Y/n with a mace.” He said quietly.

“Hm. Could it be the man holding the mace?” Tom asked in sarcastic anger as he pointed to the mace. He turned his attention back to you and slowly helped you sit up. He held you against his chest and tried to get the hair unstuck from your face.

“Jesus hit me.” You whined and Tom looked at Jake with a raging anger.

“You hit her? I’ll kill you.” He tried to move towards Jake but you patted his chest.

“Jesus hit me accidentally.” You added, and Tom calm down.

“Are you okay, darling?” Tom asked, switching to his most gentle tone. He pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket and held it against your mouth to slow the bleeding.

“I’m all dandelions and fruit cups down here, handsome.” You giggled, vision still swirling.

“She’s losing consciousness. Where is the medic?” Tom growled and look towards the door right as a woman in white came in.

“Right here. Move aside, please.” The medic ordered. Tom reluctantly laid you down on the ground and backed away to give you space.

“Pickle side, pickle side.” You laughed to yourself and moved your hands like you were conducting. The medic transferred you to a gurney and began to roll you towards the door.

“Where are you taking her?” Tom asked as he followed them.

“We’re gonna take her to the closest hospital. It looks like she needs stitches.” The medic told him and his heart sank.

“I love that song.” You mumbled and began to hum Stitches.

“Can I come?” Tom pleaded as he helped push the gurney along.

“Are you family?” The medic asked him.

“Yes.” He said quickly but she didn’t look convinced. “No. Please. I need to be there when she wakes up.”

“Fine. Get in the back of the ambulance.” The medic nodded towards the ambulance and Tom climbed inside. He waited until you were loaded in and took your hand in his.

“This is just like Grey’s Anatomy.” You smiled a little, then stopped when it hurt. “Nobody knows where we might end up. Nobody knows.” You sang to yourself.

“Thats right, Y/n. Just hang tight, sweetness. It’s gonna be okay. We’re almost there.” Tom said soothingly as he stroked your hair. You smiled at him softly before you fell unconscious.

“We’re almost there. Just hang tight.” Peter looked over at you, taking your hand in his to kiss the back of it.

“Is she gonna like me?” You asked him, hoping for an honest answer.

“Sweetheart, May is going to beg you to move in before dinner ends.” Peter chuckled. “She’s gonna love you.”

“How do you know?” You worried, trying to distract yourself by looking out the window.

“Because I love you. And I’m her kin.” Peter shrugged and you snapped your attention to him.

“That’s the first time you ever told me that.” You smiled softly at him as the streetlight lit up his profile.

“Is it?” He raised his eyebrows to play along. “I didn’t know.”

“Pull over.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“What?” He laughed, his smile fading when he saw that you were serious.

“Pull over.” You repeated. Peter obliged and pulled over as soon as he could.

“Is there something you needed?” He asked you with a coy smile.

You smirked at Peter before unbuckling your seatbelt. You leaned across the gear and pulled him into a long kiss.

“I love you too.” You told him, and kissed him again.

“Love? You awake?” Toms voice pulled you out of your dream. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked over to where his voice was. He was sitting in a hospital chair, pulled right up to your bed. “How you feeling?”

“Like I got hit with a mace.” You tried to sit up and he immediately went to your side to help you. You gave him a grateful smile and rubbed your eyes.

“Yeah, I figured. Jake said he’s really sorry. He’s been calling me every five minutes to see if you’ve woken up.“ Tom smiled softly and touched your cheek. He kept his touch light, not wanting to hurt you.

“Thanks, Peter.” You leaned into his touch and rubbed his wrist lightly with your thumb.

“Back to the Peter thing, huh?” He laughed softly. “They told me they got you on some crazy pain killer that was gonna make you loopy.”

“You wanna know something?” You raised your eyebrows suggestively.

“Tell me, darling.” He took a seat on your bed and gave you his full attention. You walked your fingers up his arm and drew patterns on his shoulder with your fingernails.

“I’ve been dreaming about us.” You told him, something you’d never admit if you weren’t on the medicine.

“Have you?” He raised his eyebrows. “What are you dreaming about us doing?”

“You’re mine.” You leaned into him with a sleepy smile. “And I’m yours.”

“You’ve been dreaming about us being together? Like as a couple?” He asked for confirmation and you nodded.

“Uh huh. And then I wake up and I’m sad.” You pouted and stuck out your bottom lip.

“Why are you sad?” He asked quietly, his heart beginning to speed up. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and gave a sad smile.

“Because it was just a dream.” You told him. Tom let out a shaky breath and tried to process what you were saying.

“Are you saying your want us to be together?” He tilted your chin up so he could see your reaction. He knew you were high on medicine and probably had no idea what you were saying, but a part of him hoped you were telling the truth.

You leaned in with a dopey smile and pressed your nose against Toms.

“You’re the boy of my dreams, Peter.” You cooed and he pulled his face away in annoyance.

“Right.” He sighed and looked away. “Peter.”

“Are you mad at me?” You worried when you noticed his reaction. Even with the medicine compromising your mentality, you could tell he was angry.

“No. No darling, I’m not mad. Not at you.” He mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Come here.” You pulled at his shirt and he cradled a smile. “I want to be close to you.”

“Okay.” He obliged and scooted closer. You shut your eyes and rested your head against his forehead.

“Can I ask you something?” You whispered, and he could’ve sworn you were sober for a moment.

“Anything.” He nodded against your head.

“Can you hear my thoughts?” You asked seriously and Toms face fell in disappointment.

“No. No I can’t hear your thoughts.” He told you and pulled away.

“Good.” You cupped his chin and turned his face back to you. “Because they’re all about you.”

You let your thumb slowly drag down his lip, laughing a little at the sound it made when you let go. Toms throat tightened at your action and he gulped.

“You’re so pretty.” You smiled as your eyes trailed down his face.

“You’re pretty too.” His lips tugged into a grin.

“Peter.” You whined as you pushed him away.

“What?” He asked, confused with your mood change.

“You’re giving me butterflies.” You said timidly as you played with the edge of your hospital gown. “But I like someone else. I can’t like you too.”

“You like someone?” His face paled. “Do I know him?”

“Yeah. He’s like a really, really good friend of yours.” You blew out a breath.

“Is it someone on set?” He questioned you.

“Maybe.” You said in a sing song voice and shrugged.

“Who?” He asked, getting more worked up by the minute.

“I like Tom.” You whispered loudly and Toms eyes widened.

“What?” He whispered back.

“Shhhh, Peter.” You pinched his lips between your fingers. “You can’t tell Tom that I like him.”

“I think he might already know.” Tom said when he pulled your hand away from his face.

“What?” You panicked. “Who told him?”

“Whew, I don’t know.” Tom played along. “I think Zendaya did.”

“Daya? No. She swore she wouldn’t. It must’ve been Jacob.” You hit your fist against the bed.

“You told Jacob before me?” Tom exclaimed.

“I didn’t tell him. It was his Hawaiian intuition.” You tapped the side of your head twice.

“His what?” Tom tilted his head to the side.

“I have to go to sleep now, Peter. I can’t talk about this right now.” You waved your hand and pulled the sheets over your lap.

“You’re gonna tell me that you like me and then go straight to sleep?” He whined. 

“I don’t like you, Peter. I like Tom.” You corrected him. “I like Tom and his curly hair and his brown eyes and his cute ass nose. God, what a nose. And I like his accent and his smile and his ambition and FUCK, his nose.”

“You mentioned that already.” He chuckled shyly.

“I did?” You sat up slightly and shrugged. “Because I love it. I love it all. And if you’ll excuse me, I needs my sleeps.” Tom sat back in his chair and sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any real answers until you woke up.

~

“Good morning.” You said weakly as you reached for the ice pack next to your bed. You held it against your cheek and sighed in relief.

“Hi sunshine.” Tom smiled softly. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel like someone put my brain through a pasta maker anymore.” You said as you rubbed your eyes.

“Aw. How about your mouth?” He questioned. 

You gave him a weak smile until it hurt and returned the ice pack to your face.

“There she is.” He smiled back. “You may want to keep the smiling to a minimum until those stitches heal.”

“That wont be a problem.” You groaned in misery and leaned against his body. He hesitantly brought his hands to your head and stroked your hair.

“Hey, can we talk about before? About what you told me?” He asked softly as he combed the tangles out of your hair.

“Tom, if you think I remember a single thing since this morning…” You shook your head as you trailed off.

“You told me that you liked me.” He got straight to the point. “Or, you told Peter that you liked me. But I heard, o-obviously.”

“Oh God.” You buried your face in your hands to hide your shame.

“Jacob knows, Zendaya knows. You told everyone but me.” He said softly. You began to panic now that he knew. Even if he was cool about it, it’d never be the same between the two of you.

“Sorry, no.” You blurted, back to forgetting how to act around Tom.

“Sorry, yes. You told me a few hours ago, love.”

You turned away from him in shame and squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you were anywhere but in that hospital bed.

“I’m sorry if that creeps you out. I guess I don’t really have control over the fact that you’re…” You trailer off with a loss of words.

“The boy of your dreams?” He humored you and you huffed out a breath.

“Leave me alone.” You groaned and put your head back in your hands. Tom gestured for you to scoot over so he could take a seat beside you, and you did.

“You know, those stitches come out in a week.” He brought you and you looked at him quizzically.

“And?” You asked, unsure of his point. Tom took your chin between his fingers and placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your entire body froze as he pulled away and gave you a half cocked smile.

“Find me in a week.” He winked.

“Pssh.” You smirked. “In your dreams.”

Tag list 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @thegr8kush​ @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @probablyparker @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop @smilexcaptainx @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah @cahosinparadise

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x yn #tom holland x actress!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland x y/n

[willowbird]

Cute uncle!Andrew and Neil with Aaron’s future kids!

Ooh! Don’t mind if I do! I hope you enjoy! <3

------

The reunion had been Abby’s idea, and while Wymack had done some obligatory grumping about the idea of having this particular group of Foxes invading their house (”I hope you remembered to hide the liquor.” “David, they’re all legal adults now and we’re inviting them over to drink with us.” “Make sure you have the fire department on standby.” “David, I highly doubt they’re going to burn down the house.” “I swear to fuck if those Minyards think they’re going break my shit I’ll haul their asses out to the park and leave them in a cardboard box.” “David, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”) he was able to admit, at least to himself, that he was looking forward to seeing them again. 

Sure, he’d kept up with all of them individually in his own way, and they’d gotten together periodically over the years, but this would be the first time in at least a decade that the lot of them would be under one roof -- under his roof -- and he was looking forward to seeing with how own eyes how they were doing. 

He’d thought he’d known what to expect. 

After all, he’d paid attention to the pro careers of Matt, Allison, Kevin, Neil, and Andrew. He spoke with Renee at least once a year in person when she came by PSU to hand-deliver her donations (and Allison was usually with her these last few years as well). He saw less of Nicky and Aaron, since Nicholas had returned to Germany after graduation and Aaron had moved on to medical school and that was even more rigorous than the training schedule he’d put them through, but he was still aware of their general well-being. Dan he probably saw the most, as she’d gone on to coaching and was now in the same division as PSU, running a newer exy team at a small public university in northern Georgia. Kevin was always around for the holidays and visited during the off-season, and they spoke on the phone regularly -- so he was generally up-to-date with his son’s life. 

It had started out within the bounds of his expectations. Nicky and Erik had flown in the night before and stayed at a hotel in town, but Dan and Matt had arrived first because Nicholas Klose still didn’t understand the function of a goddamn alarm clock. A prompt Renee and Allison showed up a little after them, followed by a harried Nicky and an exasperated Erik. Kevin ambled in solo, followed by Neil and Andrew, who still looked unbothered by the whole damn world (probably because they were the ones typically setting it on fire, but hey - what did he know?). Last to arrive were Aaron and his wife, former Vixen and one of the youngest female neurosurgeons in the field, Katelyn. 

That was when things got... strange. 

Wymack had been in the kitchen, pouring a seltzer for his (three years sober) son, when he heard the front door open and Abby greet the final arrivals. He heard a small, excited little voice call out, “Unca Annew!! Unca Neew!!” Then there was the rapid patter of little feet followed by a squeal of delight and a deep laugh that Wymack couldn’t place because he’d legitimately never heard it before. 

Curious and confused, Wymack stepped out of the kitchen just enough to peer into the foyer and his eyes didn’t quite register what he was seeing. 

Andrew was standing in the foyer with a blond-haired little girl in his arms who couldn’t be any older than three (though frankly, he was shit at guessing ages on munchkins). He was grinning and hugging her, listening as she jabbered on about something-or-other. Neil was standing at his shoulder, also smiling, though his attention diverted and his expression softened in a way that Wymack hadn’t known the venomous little viper to be capable of. 

“U-unca Neewy?” Wymack noticed that the little girl in Andrew’s arms wasn’t the only child present. An identical child in a different colored dress was huddling behind her mother’s legs, looking anxious at the new place and the strange woman (Abby) who kept smiling down at her. 

“Hey there Pips,” Neil said quietly, crouching down and opening his arms in offering. It took a moment, then the little girl cautiously edged away from her mother before half-tripping on uncoordinated legs the five or six steps it took her to get to Neil, who wrapped her up in his arms as natural as breathing and hugged her tight. He murmured something in her ear that Wymack couldn’t hear and when the little girl nodded he scooped her up and kissed her cheek before turning to join Andrew and the other small child. 

Andrew and Neil holding children. Andrew and Neil being good with children. Andrew and Neil, smiling and laughing and comforting small little children. It was such a bizarre thing that Wymack didn’t really think when he spouted off a bewildered, “What the actual fuck?”

Seven faces instantly snapped to where he was standing and it took more will than he liked to admit for Wymack not to cower under the five disapproving adult gazes and the two shocked child ones. 

“David!” Abby hissed, and he grimaced an apology. 

“Ooooooo, he said it! He said it!” crowed the chatterbox in Andrew’s grasp. 

Andrew looked like he was about ready to commit murder and never in all the years had he known the bastard had Wymack ever felt intimidated by him -- until now. It made no sense, but somehow, he became about thirty times more effective with a small child in his arms. What the fuck was up with that?

The other child made a timid little whimpering sound and Neil shot him a similar promise of an untimely death with one scathing narrowing of his eyes. Suddenly, Wymack was very eager to cancel his plans to go see the Denver Wildcats next game. 

Then Neil softened again in that way that made Wymack feel like he’d been transported to an alternate dimension. He bounced the child gently and murmured quietly to her, and this time Wymack was able to hear what he said. 

“I know he’s big and loud, but that’s Wymack. Remember I told you about him?”

“Uh-huh...”

“Remember what I said?”

“Uh-huh...”

“Pips.” The tone was gentle, but still commanding in a way that eerily reminded Wymack of Betsy. This was getting too weird. 

The little girl hugged Neil tighter around the neck, then took two deep breaths before pulling back and peaking over at where he was still standing right at the entrance of the kitchen. She studied him warily before saying, “He’s da bear man.”

The... bear man? What... the fuck?

“That’s right. He’s big and loud but very soft. And he’ll stay far away if you don’t want him close.” 

Wymack was pretty sure he needed to lay down.

Thankfully, Aaron finally decided to speak the fuck up. Granted, the tiny fucker sounded way too amused for his own good. “Coach, you haven't met the twins yet. The little energizer bunny with Andrew is Penny and Neil’s got Piper. Piper is a bit shy, that’s all. She’s not all that great with strangers still.”

“Alright family, let’s get out of the foyer hm? Would you girls like some snacks? I bet Uncle Andrew will show you where the cookies are if you ask him nicely,” Katelyn offered with a knowing smile.

It had an immediate effect. Even the shy one, Piper, lit up like damn Christmas tree as both girls looked to Andrew like he was here to deliver them Salvation. In a childlike unison that had absolutely no right being that adorable, both girls gasped, “Cookies?!”

Andrew smirked. Then he chuckled and kissed Penny on the cheek. “Oh, I think I can find something.”

Wymack stepped out of the way as Andrew led the way with Penny, Neil and Piper right behind them, into the kitchen.

He watched them go, then just stood there, gobsmacked for a moment. Katelyn was the one to cross over to him and pat him consolingly on the shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, Neil has already offered both of them to teach them how to pick locks when they turn five.”

It did but it didn’t. 

Aaron snickered unhelpfully. “Go have a drink, Coach. If that is fucking you up, just wait until tea time.”

“Tea time?” Even to his own ears, his voice came out raspy. “What the fuck is tea time?”

Aaron cackled in response. Cackled. 

Jesus Christ, this was not what he had signed up for.

#asks #blue-hail #aftg #aftg fic #aftg prompt #future fic #uncle andrew #uncle neil #andrew is good with kids #neil is good with kids #pov david wymack #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #neil josten #david wymack #foxes reunion #fluffy drabble #100 followers

[i-ntrmission]

Nine (Van McCann)

Just a silly little fic where Van is sporadic regular at a coffee shop.

Part 1

Part 2 

Saturday morning.

You’ve already baked cinnamon buns and the peacan pie by time Carly officially opens up the café at 8. The smell of freshly baked goods circling the shop, Carly hums in appreciation, hovering in the kitchen to see what she can rob for breakfast.

Toby arrives at half 8, Carly all too gladly standing back from the coffee machine. He hovers by the kitchen door a few minutes later, thanking you again for last night while you’re pulling a tray of breakfast muffins out of the oven.

“Sure you didn’t lose something?” You ask him, he only blinks, a questioning ‘no?’, and you tug his keys from your pocket.

“Are they my- shit, where’d you find them?!”

Fragmented story telling about last night, about Van, between serving customers. You still feel a rush of lightheadedness when you think about last night, think about Van. Heartbeat kicking up in a weird little pitter-patter rhythm - something you only associate with kittens and Hugh Grant films. Toby listens with a knowing smile, which you choose to ignore.

“Oh, and guess who Julia got off with last night?” You say, maybe to change the subject off Van, after he’s handed a takeaway cup to the last of the customers. He raises a how eyebrows, looking at you with interest. Toby liked to act like he wasn’t interested in the gossip, stories swapped between you and Julia on long shifts - but you always caught him half listening, weighing in with his own comments if asked.

But before you can dish out the gossip on who you had walked in on in your kitchen this morning, Julia herself stomps through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble with a smirk while Toby playfully hisses at her as she walks past “Ey, what time do you call this then?”

It’s 9, she’s an hour late. She had told you this morning she’d cleared it with Carly, when you had brought her water and painkillers. More as a front to question her on who you had found in the kitchen than being concerned for her head. She’d seen through it and buried herself under her duvet when you entered her room.

“Piss off,” she hisses back, taking off her sunglasses. No makeup and too much perfume, the telltale signs of a rough night. “And don’t even start you!” Pointing her sunglasses at you, your smug smile. You only hold your hands up to with a lingering smirk. Toby’s eyes flickering between you both.

The bell hanging from the door rings, drawing your attention back to the till as two mums with buggies and toddlers make their way in, the screeches of excited children make Julia shudder.

“Jesus Christ, kids shouldn’t be allowed out in public until at least midday on weekends,” she huffs under her breath and makes a beeline for the staff room. A chuckle - calling after her, telling her you had left breakfast muffins in the oven. The perfect combination of savory and sweet - the best hangover cure. Apart from more alcohol that is.

You’re loading up a tray with hot chocolates and coffees for the mums and kids when Julia re-emerges from the back room, taking a bite out of the muffin in her hand with a groan of your name, telling you that you were a lifesaver.

“Sure you can manage these? No more bad luck leftover? Need a side of salt?” Toby teases while handing you the tray over the counter, you roll your eyes - telling him not to remind you of yesterday’s disasters.

“So, wild night at the pub quiz I hear,” you hear Toby turning back to Julia while you walk away, biting down on the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. Recalling her texts.

You make your way out front to the terrace where the noisy kids have taken up residence at one of the tables, except now their shrieks seem to be in despair rather than delight. One of the women standing out on the path while the other is desperately trying to calm the boys, one already in tears. Inconsolable.

“Oh, what’s happened?!” You ask, a frown while setting the tray on their table.

“Pebbles ran away!” The older of the boys wail while pointing down the road. It’s then that you notice the abandoned dog leash on the ground beside your foot, one end under the seat of the chair, the other end clipped onto a collar.

“He must have wriggled out, a lad’s gone running after him - I hope-“ the woman is cut off by the younger boy’s screech of “There! Pebbles!!”

You follow his gaze, almost shaking your head and laughing - it’s Van, of course it’s fucking Van to the rescue. Sauntering back down the path with the runaway Yorkshire terrier in his arms, licking at his face.

You watch the look of adoration in the women’s eyes as he carries the dog back up to the table, the gleeful sounds of the kids. His smile widens once he spots you, hovering.

“Alright lids, see he’s fine! Just a little messer ain’t he?!” Van eases, dropping down on his haunches to hold the dog while the mum fiddles with adjusting the collar.

Ducking back inside while the chorus of ‘thank yous’ surround Van, grabbing a couple of chocolate chip cookies and pain au chocolats, sugar for the shock.

Once you set the treats down on the table, the boys wipe the end of their tears from their eyes. Sounds of delight resurface, something their mothers echo when you tell them not to worry, that the cookies and crossiants are on the house.

Van follows you back inside after high fiving the boys, winking at the women and blowing a kiss at the dog - who seemed rather taken with him. Holding the door open for you.

“You’re in early, thought rockstars didn’t get up ‘til noon,” you say as he follows you in. Eyes a little bloodshot, voice a little husky - but other than that he didn’t share any of Julia’s hangover symptoms. You wonder what kind of drinker he is.

“Eh, never been good at the whole rockstar thing me.” A lazy grin, reaching the counter where Julia stops mid rant about how bacon absolutely belongs in muffins. Their eyes lock, mirrored smirks - sharing the same secrets.

“Think you have someone that belongs to me, love.” He chuckles.

Julia hums in response, “think I’ll hang onto him a bit longer.”

You bite back a smile. This morning, walking into your kitchen at sunrise only to be greeted with a scruffy, bearded man. Vaguely familiar, from the countless interviews and live performances you had binged on YouTube. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, unbuttoned shirt and undone jeans, hand buried in his hair, staring blankly at the floor tiles. Clearly in the midst of a hangover from hell, possibly going through the fear. You could smell the stale alcohol.

“Er, morning?” You said quietly, blue eyes flickering up, a crooked smile, and a rasped “Mornin’, love.”

Like it was the most natural thing for him to be standing in your kitchen, like it was his kitchen even.

“Are you looking for sommat or?” You opened the fridge, glancing back over him. Hoping he wasn’t about to puke all over the place. He had that look.

“Yeah, just the last shreds of me dignity.. and anything.. cold, please... fuck,” he grumbles, pressing his head into his hands. You almost felt sorry for him, then you remembered the videos and messages from Julia last night and hide a smile by looking back into the fridge. Jug of iced water and a pint glass, handing him the full glass before rooting through the medicine drawer, painkillers.

“Aye, you’re a fuckin’ godsent, thanks angel.” Taking the painkillers and water from you. “Can see why Van’s so fond of you, coffee girl.”

There’s a lot of unpack in that sentence, and it was way too early. So you simply blink and watch him take the pills.

“Coffee girl?” You question eventually, arms crossing.

His eyes drift back over to you, grimacing while he sips on the water. “Aye, you work down the café, wi’ Julia, reet?”

You knew you shouldn’t have, but when opportunity arises, you can’t help it. Winding him up. It’s a rare morning you’re in a good mood, able to communicate in more that one syllable words.

“No? Dunno what you’re on about mate, Julia works down the cafè.. heard her mentioned someone called Van a few times, seemed like they had a thing, yeah?”

A flash of panic in his eyes, practically hearing the flurry of curse words going through his head. The prospect of the fact he’s probably shagged someone his best mate is ‘fond of’. Quirking a brow while he stared.

“Nah, she said.. You.. fuck.. fuck me,” a string of grumbles, clearly trying and failing to get his head straight - remember what had happened last night, what Julia had told him. Hands patting down his jeans, pulling out his phone with a heavy sigh. He curses at the screen. “Fuck, Van’s gon-“

“Hey,” you decide to put him out of his misery. He was growing paler by the second, and you were getting more and more worried about the prospect of cleaning up puke. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”

Realisation hitting - eye narrowing at you, telling him your name, confirming that you were indeed the coffee girl who worked with Julia. He shakes his head, a gruff noise and crooked smirk.

“Jesus, threw me for a loop there... well played, my dear... I like you already,” holding out his first, “Am Johnny,” he says while you knock your knuckles against his. You refrain from telling him you knew that already.

“Well, he’s kinda crucial in our band and that, so afraid I get first dibs, darlin’” Van’s voice drags you back to the present.

“So you’re saying you’re going on tour again soon, eh?” Julia tilts her head.

A breathy little laugh - “Bands do more than just tour, yanno?”

“You do realise the internet is a thing, Van - we could literally google your tour dates right now and find out. So your mysterious bullshit ain’t flying anymore.” She rolls her eyes, another bite of her muffin.

Since finding out he was in Catfish, neither of you had ever thought about checking on the tour dates, when he came he came and when he left he left, and that’s that. No wondering if he’d show up when the tour was up. Simple, no attachments. You and Julia even named a local stray cat after Van who you fed from time to time when he came snooping around the bins outside, the easiness of coming and going.

So why were your fingers suddenly itching for your phone.

“Ah, love! Why ruin the little mystery that’s left then? Like I said - we do other stuff too, could have label stuff to do, graftin the next album... cheers, mate.” Trailing off once Toby slides his caramel latte over the counter, something he had got him hooked on a year or so ago. “Fuckin missed this.” He says as if every other coffee shop has yet to discover caramel.

“So yous are doing a new album then, that it?” Julia persists, rolling your eyes at her blatant attempts at winding him up. But he catches on, a lazy grin, licking his lips.

“Ain’t ya too hungover to be fuckin’ with us like this?” He calls her out, a smirk.

She shrugs while her eyes slide over to the elderly couple that come in every morning, sitting in their usual spot. Calling over to them that their tea and scones are on the way, fond calls back of ‘take your time, pet.’ telling Van she’s not finished with him before heading into the back to get a teapot.

“What happened last night anyways?” Toby interjects, bemused look across his features. Completely left out of the loop, obviously not getting anything out of Julia when you left them a while ago.

Taking the opportunity to pull up Julia’s messages - putting you phone down on the counter between the three of you. The video is obviously taken at the time of the night where all rational thoughts are lost to drinks. Loud music, girls screams - background static, Johnny Bond stood at the bar, downing three consecutive shots of what you assume is tequila, Julia’s giggles soundtrack while following him out the smoking area, turning back to the camera and taking off his cap with slur of ‘mind this for me, love’ before he proceeds to do a handstand against a wall for 15 seconds. Confused onlookers as Julia counts it out.

Amused sounds - Toby and Van, Julia passing back around the counter in search of scones for the couple, she glances over your shoulder at the video.

“Ey, anyone who does a handstand after 3 shots of tequila without vomming earns their space in my bed.”

There’s another video from about 20 minutes later of Larry stood on a table, Kylie Minogue blaring, and he’s doing an enthused rendition of the Can’t Get You Outta my Head dance mixed with a bit of the Macarena. Cheers erupting around him, wolf whistles.

Van - a rasped cackle, “send that one onto me, that’s too good! Never gon let him live that one down!”

You watch him while he watches the video again a few times over. His eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks when he looks down, fingers restlessly tapping against his coffee mug, soft chuckles. Feeling Toby give you a nudge, a wink when you look up. Letting you know he caught you, shaking your head with your best ‘fuck off’ eyes.

“So why were you making the lads humiliate themselves for your entertainment then?” Toby asks Julia once she circles back around the counter

“‘Cause, the lads bet me that they’d beat us at the pub quiz,” she explains, helping herself to another muffin. “Johnny spent half the time outside smoking, and Van and Larry fuckin’ argued over every question and ended up writing down bullshit made up answers.”

Toby asks where Van’s forfeit video is, you’re only half listening now - taking orders of the few people who just came in, but you zone back in once you hear your name mentioned.

“-and after I told him she was workin’ late closing up, never seen anyone down their pint so quickly, what was the excuse again, Van? Jet lag was it?”

Glancing up at that to find him already looking at you, catching his eye, his lips tilt making his dimple pop out. It lasts less than a second, your eyes darting back down to the pecan pie you’re cutting. Feeling your cheeks warm up. He never mentioned that he had run into Julia at the pub last night, remembering how he just said he was on his way home. Although, you were half sure it did have nothing do with you, more likely he was just sick of Julia’s drunken bullshit.

“Nah, just quite like that pub and want to be able to show me face in there again, innit.” He tells her, a laugh.

You grab a basin and walk away to start to clear tables, not really wanting to hear anymore of Julia’s torments. You’re happier zoning out, getting lost in your own thoughts, smiling and small talk with a few regulars. On you’re way back to the kitchen when you hear Van again as you walk past, catching your elbow.

“You in then too, Glasvegas?”

“Sorry, what?” Turning back to him, you had been thinking if Julia would be up for getting chipper on the way home after the pub tonight. You were already craving garlic cheese chips.

“Coming down Cassidy’s tonight? Van’s buying first round for being a pussy last night.” Julia quips, and you look from him to her. Fuck, remembering Van’s confession about wanting to buy you a drink last night. Julia’s looking at with you a smug expression, knowing you can’t get out of this one. You and her always went out on Saturday night’s - either just the two of you, or a group of friends. But going to the pub with Van and his mates, your heart skips a few beats, uneasiness. You give her a look before letting your eyes slide back to Van, an expectant look, finishing off his cinnamon bun.

“Er, I dunno..”

“Dunno if you’re up for going to the pub? Like we don’t go out every Saturday night?” Julia tilts her head, feigning mock innocence. You knew what she was doing, and you glare. A non-verbal ‘you’re being a dick.”

“Well, er, it’s been a long week.. yanno. I’m kinda tired.. was thinkin’ of staying in and having a quiet one,” you’re backing slowly into the kitchen as you say this, feeble excuses. “And I’m.. I’m trying to save some and that.”

“So me and you will do pre-drinks at ours,” Julia pushes, entertaining your excuses to a certain extent, but not letting you get out of it.

“And I’m buying first round,” Van adds.

“So, it’s just one drink really.” Julia confirms.

“Jus’ one drink.” Van reaffirms.

“Just one drink?” You say, somewhat defeated.

Toby glances up from the coffee machine, a chuckle. “Now when’s the last time anyone went out and actually had just one drink?”

Van leaves a little while later, Toby giving him a tray of coffees for Larry and Bondy if he’d yet ventured back from your place, you sending him off with a bag of hangover cures in form of pastries and cakes.

He came back in a few minutes later, forgetting his stamp on his loyalty card.

“2 down, eight to go. Cheers, see yas later.” He walked back out, a spring in his step. You turned to Julia.

“What the fuck, Jules?! Will you leave us alone and stop tryin’ to setup me up with Van fuckin’ McCann!” Exasperated tone, she only shook her head and giggled. “S’not funny! He probably already has a girlfriend and you’re here makin’ us look desperate!”

“Dunno what you’re on about, babe!” She says while heading out to clean up the terrace, humming matchmaker matchmaker under her breath. She turns back to you as she reaches the door “Oh, and he deffo doesn’t have a girlfriend, found that out last night for ya. You’re welcome!” She beams, all but skipping out the door.

You somehow resist the urge to chuck the tea towel in your hands at her head.

#part3 will prob be later today or tomorz I spilt it up becaus it was getting way too long #anyway yeah #vanfic #catb fanfics #Van McCann fanfic

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 3: Part of Your World 

Work Summary: Jamie Fraser is hiking near some strange stones when he stumbles across an unconscious lass. Determined to help her, Jamie’s life is turned completely upside down when he takes her in. The only issue... she’s not human.

Chapter 3 Summary: Claire starts to settle in, and Jamie finds himself feeling things well out of his depth.

Read on AO3

Read Chapter 3 on tumblr below the cut:

Previous, Next

Jamie awoke feeling content. He hadn’t woken content in ages. He smiled a little to himself, eyes still lazily closed, and made to stretch out. But as he started to lift his arms, he realized they were wrapped around something soft and heavy. In fact, whatever it was he was cuddling was fit snugly into the curve of his body as he laid on his side. 

What the devil?

He opened his eyes to the sight of a lass in his arms, her back pressed all along his front and curly brown hair splayed over his pillow and tickling his nose. 

He jolted back, startled. He had jumped so much with that movement that he’d reached the edge of the bed, which dipped under him and sent him toppling off the side. Arms flailing uselessly, he hit the floor with a thump. The abrupt landing served to wake him up the rest of the way and brought everything flooding back to him. 

A faerie. In his bed. Because he’d brought her home and then she’d climbed in there with him while he was asleep as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

If it weren’t for the quite obviously real shape of her lying in his bed, he would have thought it had all been a dream. He managed to get his legs underneath him and slowly stood, eyes fixed on Claire. Tentatively, Jamie perched on the edge of the bed and studied her for a long moment as his brain tried to catch back up to the situation. 

As always when he looked at her, the entrancement grew. His eyes caressed over her tousled hair and all the way down her covered body to her feet. She was just a wee lump under the blankets-- curled up and looking surprisingly incomplete without his body shielding her-- but he thought he could still make out the faint shimmer of golden warmth that surrounded her in the dim light. The covers rose and fell with each steady breath she took. 

But looking closer, he realized she didn’t look completely peaceful. Her eyes were screwed shut just that too tightly. There was a tension still in her body-- the tension that had melted from her the previous day when she’d grown to trust him. But he could tell that, in sleep, the fear of the situation was still there. She was in an unfamiliar place, with someone not of her own kind-- he couldn’t blame her in the slightest. But it still broke his heart. 

His conscience told him to leave her to her rest. Maybe she’d be more at ease without vaguely sensing his presence? He had managed to creep halfway across the room when she suddenly stirred. Her face popped out from underneath the sleep-mussed curls to regard him with an expression that began as wary confusion as she first tried to remember where she was, and then, just as quickly, it changed to a look of fondness as her gaze settled on him. 

“Good morning, Jamie,” she said sweetly, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Ehm,” he cleared his throat, shifting a little awkwardly and unsure what exactly to do under the circumstances, “good morning.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to fill the stillness, because Claire was inclined to action. She sat up, the covers falling away from her body, and stretched her arms. Her mouth fell open with a wide yawn. Those brown curls that Jamie loved so much were sticking out every which way, like a delightful bird’s nest. Seeing her disheveled and mussed from sleep was only even more endearing. 

What he wouldn’t give to wake up to this every morning… 

“How are ye feelin’ today?” he asked, a little tentatively. 

“Better than yesterday,” she answered simply. He sensed a slightly veiled tone; there was something she wasn’t telling him. But he wouldn’t push her. 

She tossed the covers aside and stuck her legs out over the side of the bed. After spending a moment entranced by the silky-smooth bare skin revealed there as she got out of bed, Jamie realized with a start that he was looking at silky-smooth bare skin. She was still wearing her white dress from yesterday, a bit dirty and worn ragged from her ordeal. 

“Christ, in all the confusion yesterday I didna even offer ye clean clothes. I’m sorry, lass,” he exclaimed. His mother would have been appalled by his lack of hospitality. 

She shrugged, unperturbed. “Don’t worry, Jamie. It’s alright.” 

He shook himself out a bit, trying to clear the fog out of his head that made him into a complete imbecile around her. 

“Let me get ye some clothes. Or would ye like a shower first?” 

Her head tilted a little to the side, like a dog looking confused about an order from its master. But she quickly hid the expression and said simply, “clothes would be good.” 

Jamie went to work. He grabbed one of his tee-shirts from the drawer and then sweatpants (with drawstrings, for otherwise she’d be swallowed by loose fabric) from another. He wished he had some of his sister Jenny’s old things, or any clothes that might actually be suitable for her, but unfortunately these were the only options. He set the folded pile down on the bed like an offering while Claire stood in the corner, studying him patiently the whole time. 

“Here, a nighean. At least they’re somethin’ clean tae wear. I’ll leave ye tae get sorted.” 

Before he could be distracted by her further, he turned and fled the room, closing the door politely behind him. 

Breakfast might be a good option, he thought. Since apparently Claire didn’t eat, he might as well take this time to get himself something. Padding into the kitchen, he absently grabbed some cereal and dumped whatever kind it was into a bowl, followed by some milk. 

A few minutes later, Claire came padding in, and his spoon froze halfway to his mouth in shock. 

She was clad in just his tee shirt, bare legs going on for miles. Since she was so much smaller than him, it didn’t have any trouble preserving her decency, but it still revealed far too much of those glorious legs that made his eyes bulge. A million thoughts rushed through his head at once. The first was-- naturally-- desire. He was a red-blooded man after all, and she was the most gorgeous lass he’d seen in his life. That was followed shortly by possessiveness. To see her in his clothes…. as if his protection was wrapped around her— his mark on her… certain feelings arose. “She’s mine,” his brain helpfully provided. Nearly as immediately as he’d attended that thought, shame rushed through him. She wasn’t his, nor did she deserve to be ogled in that way. He was certain that red was spreading up his neck and all the way to his ears, betraying his thoughts like a neon sign. 

But the whole time Jamie was gaping, every muscle of his body frozen, Claire was walking casually into the kitchen to look out the window above the sink, completely unaware of the reaction she was eliciting from him. 

Jamie gulped and set his spoon back in his cereal. 

“Ah… Claire?” he said hesitantly. 

She turned from the window and gave him a warm but oblivious smile. 

“Yes, Jamie?” 

Trying very hard not to look at her creamy legs, he tentatively asked, “Ye… ye didna want the pants…?”, unsure of how exactly to broach the question. 

She looked down at herself and shrugged. “They didn’t fit.” 

When she looked back up at him (likely taking in his blush and flustered manner), her eyes suddenly went wide. “Is this wrong?” 

Jamie wasn’t sure exactly how to answer that. His mouth opened and closed a few times-- embarrassingly like a fish-- before he managed to stutter out, “it’s jes’… a wee bit distracting.” 

She looked unsure. Her face clouded with that puzzled expression she got when contemplating a human thing. “Distracting?” she echoed. 

“Aye,” he confirmed. He averted his eyes and his cheeks flamed. There was no way she’d missed that. 

“Oh,” she said, nodding in sudden understanding, “I see. I’ll just… try again.”  

She turned on her heel and padded out of the room. A second later, she returned, helplessly holding the pants up on her hips. 

Jamie had to swallow hard again. “Come here, lass,” he said, voice coming out gravelly. 

She did, standing in front of him and still gripping the waistband to keep it up. 

With slightly shaking fingers, he fumbled with the drawstring. He clumsily drew it tighter, pulling it several times to get it to tighten around that impossibly tiny waist, and finally he managed to tie it. When he was finished, his hands instinctively smoothed over his hips, and his thumb traced a circle over the jut of his hip bone before he let go, his heart thundering in his chest. 

She withdrew from him, looking down at the garment. Then, she smiled and gave him a twirl to show it off. 

“Verra bonny,” he rasped through dry throat. 

“They’re soft!” she exclaimed in delight. 

“Aye,” he acknowledged, warming at her excitement. He rose to his feet in order to properly appraise her, “but they’re draggin’ all o’er the ground. Soon we’ll go out and get ye some proper clothes.” 

“Hmm?” she asked in confusion. But he didn’t have a chance to elaborate, because suddenly a streak of grey fur was barrelling into the room. 

Adso. Ifrinn, in all the confusion he hadn’t remembered to feed the cheetie that morning. 

The moment the cat streaked toward them, meowing in displeasure at Jamie, Claire let out an alarmed squeak. Before he knew what was happening, Claire was launching herself at him. She scrambled up his body as if climbing a tree and wrapped her legs around his waist, arms clinging to his neck. His own arms settled around her nearly immediately-- holding her was almost natural at this point. 

Adso had settled at his feet, his green eyes regarding the faerie with a mixture between curiosity and wariness. All his complaints about food were forgotten with the awareness of the new creature who was currently latched onto Jamie like a koala. 

Claire looked down at the cat, apprehension clear on her face. She wrapped her legs even higher around Jamie’s middle in order to keep herself safely away from him. 

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. “Dinna fash, Sassenach. ‘Tis only my wee cheetie, Adso.” 

“Cheetie?” she asked warily, making no move to detach herself. 

“Aye, a cat. Ye’ve never seen one, then?” 

“No…” she answered with a bit of trembling in her voice that he found endearing, “nothing like it lives in my forest.” 

“Well, ye needna be scarrit of him. He’s a bit of a temper when he hasna been fed, but he’s a braw cat. Verra sweet when ye gain his trust,” Jamie explained. 

“He lives with you?” she asked. 

“Aye. He’s a…  companion of sorts. Although he’d probably think that I belong to him,” Jamie chuckled. 

Claire was still making no move to climb down. As much as he adored holding her, he couldn’t quite manage it every time Adso was in the room. 

“Why dinna ye say hallo? Jes’ hold out yer hand and let him smell ye for a bit, and then maybe he’ll let ye pet him,” Jamie suggested. 

Adso was sitting perfectly still by his feet like the well-mannered little gentlemen he was. Jamie had complete faith that he’d take to Claire as soon as she stopped being scared of him. 

Slowly, Claire unwrapped her legs from Jamie’s middle and let them fall to the ground. Once she was on her own two feet, it took her a second to let go of his neck. Finally though, she knelt down on the floor and extended a hand nervously to Adso. 

The cat gave her a few wary sniffs. Likely he’d never smelled anything remotely like her. Jamie thought she smelled like roses and earth, but he couldn’t have guessed what the cat was sensing. Adso regarded her with green eyes for a long moment, and then suddenly butted his head under her hand in a friendly gesture of acceptance. 

Claire laughed in delight, and instantly started to stroke the cat’s fur. Just as Jamie predicted, they took to each other like fish to water. Adso always had been a keen judge of character. He was soon purring under Claire’s eager pets, and it took only a few seconds for him to clamber onto her lap. 

As he settled down on top of her, Claire looked up at Jamie with an awed expression. Delight and unadulterated joy were painted across her face. 

“That means he likes ye, ken?” Jamie said. 

“I like him, too,” she said affectionately, looking back down at the cat. 

While Claire gave her new friend her full attention, Jamie looked on fondly. It was as if she fit in perfectly to his life. Despite not even being human, having her here seemed as natural as breathing. Like she was always meant to be there.

Once Adso finally got bored of interacting with people and instead decided to go over to his recently filled food dish, Claire was returned to Jamie. 

He walked over to where she sat cross-legged on the floor and offered her his hands. 

“Here, Sassenach.” 

She took them, slipping them into his in that distinct way she always did— as if her hands fit perfectly into his— and he helped her to her feet. 

When she was standing, facing him and only mere inches away, she didn’t let go of his hands. 

“Why do ye call me that?” she asked inquisitively. 

“Oh, ‘Sassenach’?” Honestly, Jamie hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. He had nearly a dozen names and terms of endearment for her already swimming in his head. He hadn’t known he’d said that one outloud. 

“Yes. I’m hardly an english person,” she said. She sounded slightly offended, and Jamie hastened to clear it up. 

“Och, no… I dinna mean it like that. I jes’ mean… ye’re an outlander tae me. Someone not of this world-- or the human world that is. I’m sorry, I didna mean offense. It’s jes’ what I’ve taken tae callin’ ye in my head.” 

Claire smiled indulgently, a genuine warmth lighting her features. “You can call me whatever you like.”

Jamie awkwardly withdrew his hands from her grasp and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He rocked on his heels, and then started toward the living room. 

“Here, we can sit. I suppose we ought tae talk some more. Do ye have any questions for me, lass?” 

He walked into the living room and plopped himself down on the couch. Claire followed behind. 

As he sat watching her walk across the room, she beelined straight toward him instead of sitting on the other couch or two chairs. Much to his surprise, she strode over in that strange manner she had in which she did something odd with complete confidence, and then she promptly sat down on his lap. 

Jamie was so taken aback that he simply froze as she settled in, her legs perpendicular over his and arms looping comfortably over his shoulders. 

“What are ye doin’?” He choked through a dried throat. 

“Sitting with you,” she answered. It wasn’t a question, but it was phrased with the barest hint of a raise at the end that indicated she was wondering why he would ask about such an obvious thing. 

He coughed. After struggling internally for a moment between telling her humans found it improper to do such a thing and simply enjoying her wee body curled into him, he decided to let her be. Besides, in the privacy of his own home, who was to judge their behavior? 

So, he wrapped his arms around her comfortably and tugged her closer. She had been studying him the whole time he was debating with himself, but at that moment, she laid her head down on his shoulder and really cozied up. 

He was startled to find she was shivering against him even in the warmth of his house. Anxiety started to knot his wame and he wondered if aught was amiss. 

“Are ye alright, mo nighean donn? Ye’re shakin’.”

“It’s cold,” she said. She burrowed impossibly further into his arms and he held her even closer to him. 

“But it’s not, lass, the heat is on. Ye have me worrit...” 

He was worried, beginning to wonder whether something was seriously wrong with her. 

She straightened up to look at him. “Oh, you shouldn’t worry. It’s just that I’m a summer fae of the Seelie court—“ He gave her a bewildered look and she cut herself off to explain. “The seelie court are the benevolent ones of the fair folk. We are kind towards humans, you see. Occasionally my people will heal a wandering traveler or help one lost in the woods.” When Jamie nodded in vague understanding (or at least enough for the time being), she continued, “I’m of the summer court, so I’ve never actually experienced another season until I touched the stone, and suddenly it seems I’ve become susceptible to all of Scotland’s weather. A queer thing, temperature... I’m alright though, just chilly.” 

She suddenly leaned in and punctuated her statement by pressing her face into his neck and nuzzling gently. “But you’re warm,” she breathed reverently. 

His breath caught and all he could manage was a Scottish hum of agreement that barely made it past his dry throat. His brain just kept screeching “you’re holding her! She’s in your lap!— Stop, pull it together, Fraser! But she’s so tiny. So soft.” 

When fingers started to gently trace down his chest, following the line between pectorals, Jamie thought his heart would stop altogether. 

There was no doubt about it. He was falling for her. Head over heels and ass over tea kettle— somersaulting like a damn gymnast. 

Immediately after that realization came a second. 

“Claire?” He asked hesitantly, fearful of the answer that would break his heart, “are ye wantin’ tae go back? To the stones?” 

She jerked her head off his shoulder and looked at him in horror. “No, no, no. I can’t experience that again. It’ll kill me, I know it will. Please, Jamie, don’t take me back there now.” She pleaded with him, tears of fear and desperation glistening in her golden eyes, “please no.” 

Her fingers scrambled against his shirt as she begged him, and he could feel how her anxiety had ramped up several notches through the thrum of alarm buzzing through her body. 

“Hush, hush, a nighean,” he quickly soothed before she could panic any further, “dinna fash, I willna make you go back.” He took her head in both of her hands and gently stroked her hair back several times in reassurance. He ended by cupping her face and forcing her to look him in the eyes as he promised, “I willna bring harm tae ye, ever. As long as ye’re with me, I will see ye safe.” 

She took a long, shaky inhale, obviously still rattled by the thought of going through that ordeal again. As she blinked the tears away, Jamie drew her into a hug. 

He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close. She melted into him in answer, and her head fit perfectly under his chin. A little tentatively, her arms snaked around his waist. He stroked soothing circles into her back and murmured some quiet Gaelic nonsense over her. 

Jamie embraced her for what seemed like hours. His touch held the promise of everything he couldn’t yet tell her aloud. Her wee shudders slowly died down, and could tell the grip of fear was loosening. 

“I don’t want to talk about any more of that,” she said in a tiny, breathy voice. 

“Ye dinna have to,” he softly reassured. 

He hugged her closer, repeating again-- softer this time-- “ye dinna have to.” 

And if Jamie had his way, nothing on God’s good earth would hurt her the way stones had ever again. Not if he had anything to say about it.

#All That Was Fair #update #outlander #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #fluff #fae!claire #outlander fanfic #claire/jamie

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 10: If Only My Dreams

Chapter 9

Read on AO3

December 22

Claire, Gillian, and Faith were on their way to the stables. Gillian had insisted on coming, wanting to “see Faith in action,” as she put it. She’d been spending quite a lot of time with her over the past week. Mrs. Lickett would come in the morning to give Faith her lessons and educational playtime, but then she’d leave around noon, so crafts, movies, and the like were all up to Gillian. Claire had left Faith in Gillian’s care all the time back in England, so she was quite confident they’d be just fine, and things had been going swimmingly all week. Faith was quite enjoying her time with her Auntie, and Claire dreaded the day she had to leave, and the meltdown that would probably follow.

But that was a problem for another day.

When they arrived at the stable, Faith insisted on holding both of their hands in the parking lot, giving Gillian the honor of holding Horsie.

“Don’t you let that thing out of your sight,” Claire warned. “If anything happens to it there’ll be hell to pay. And I don’t mean from me.” She eyed Faith, and Gillian nodded in understanding.

“He’s been left before, has he?”

“Indeed. Never making that mistake again.”

They shared a laugh, which intensified as Faith gave a strong yank on both of their hands to make them get inside faster.

“Eager, isn’t she?” Gillian said, smirking.

“She loves it here, you have no idea,” Claire said, her chest warming. “Just wait until you see her with the horse. It’ll make you cry.”

When they got inside, Faith was bouncing as usual, humming loudly.

“Really, I dinna think I’ve ever seen her this excited fer anything that isna Disney,” Gillian said.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Claire laughed.

“Beauchamp gals!” Toni called as they approached the desk. “And who’s this?”

“This is Faith’s godmother, my best friend from back home. Gillian Edgars.”

“Hi, I’m Toni. It’s great to meet you.” She gave Gillian her hand, then a firm shake. She was wearing an obscenely ugly Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. Erica was donning a Santa hat as well, but if she was wearing a sweater, it wasn’t visible under her coat.

“This is Erica,” Claire said. “One of the volunteers that helps Jamie with Faith.”

“Jamie’s the — ”

“Her main therapist, yes,” Claire interjected before Gillian could say anything bawdy. “Shall we?”

Erica nodded and led them outside, Faith holding dutifully onto both hands again.

“That one likes the lasses,” Gillian whispered to Claire once they were outside.

Claire gave her a confused look. “Erica?” she stammered, in shock that Gillian was speculating about a fifteen year old girl.

“No, ye numpty! Toni!”

“How on Earth can you tell?” Claire said.

“I’ve always had an eye fer those things, ye ken.” She winked. “Does this place only employ hot people?”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire rolled her eyes and swatted her arm.

When they arrived at the stable, Faith’s excitement went through the roof, as always, and Gillian started laughing.

“She’s just the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” she chuckled as Erica opened the doors.

Waiting inside with Pippi was the six foot Scot, wearing an equally ridiculous Christmas sweater as Toni’s, also donning a Santa hat.

“Ah, there she is! The wee princess!” Jamie exclaimed. Faith giggled at being addressed as such, and she tugged ever harder on their hands.

“And who’s this, then?” Jamie looked to Gillian.

“This is my best friend from across the Atlantic, Gillian Edgars.”

“A fellow Scot,” Gillian said, shaking his hand.

“Ah! That’s braw!” Jamie beamed, then turned to Claire. “This is the godmother then?”

“Yes, this is Auntie Gi.”

“It’s very fine to finally meet ye, lass. Jamie Fraser.” He finally released her hand. “Claire goes on and on about ye.”

“Didna realize ye talked so much,” Gillian said, throwing Claire side-eye. “About me,” she added quickly.

Had Jamie not been standing right there, Claire would have swatted at her arm again.

“Aye. Well, Faith, d’ye want to show yer Auntie yer horse?” He crouched down to her, and she nodded, letting go of their hands. Faith’s muscle memory took over, and she tended to the creature just the way she’d been taught. “This is Pippi,” Jamie said. “Princess Faith’s noble steed.”

“Princess Faith, he says,” Gillian whispered dreamily, and Claire inconspicuously pinched her thigh.

“Are ye excited to show Auntie Gi how ye ride, lass?” Jamie said, and Faith nodded enthusiastically. “Right then, off we go.”

Jamie hung back with Claire and Gillian while Erica led Faith and Pippi. He and Gillian conversed rapidly in Gaelic, leaving Claire feeling rather stupid as she looked in awe between the two of them.

When they arrived at the riding hall, Gillian and Claire leaned against the fence, Gillian amazed how Faith handled the helmet.

“Oh, that was quite a struggle,” Claire said. “Got bit for that one, remember?”

“Right, ye called me that day,” Gillian said, nodding. “She’s so gentle wi’ the horse. Back there in the stable, ye were right, I almost cried like a bairn.”

“Wait until she gets on,” Claire said warmly. “It’s just incredible.”

“And he…is so good wi’ her,” Gillian said in disbelief. “Could God have created a more perfect specimen?”

That earned her another swat on the arm.

“Hi, Claire,” Mrs. Beardsley’s voice had Claire turning around.

“Oh, hello,” Claire said. “Gi, this is Fanny Beardsley.”

They reached over Claire to shake hands.

“This is your wife?” Fanny said, smiling sweetly.

This immediately had them both sputtering, struggling to not disturb the therapy by howling with laughter.

“She wishes!” Gillian exclaimed, earning yet another swat.

“No, no,” Claire said, wiping tears of laughter away. “This is Faith’s godmother. She’s just visiting for Christmas. We’ve been best friends since college.”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Fanny’s face was bright red.

“No, it’s alright, really,” Claire said, though she was still wheezing.

“It actually happens a lot,” Gillian said. “Lots of rumors back in college. Sadly, this one is straight as a pin.” Gillian patted her shoulder, and Claire rolled her eyes.

They passed the rest of the time watching Faith, Gillian whispering in awe and squealing in delight, clapping along with Claire and Erica when Faith earned celebration.

“She’s braw, Claire,” Gillian said, teary-eyed as Faith dismounted. “I’m really proud of her.”

They embraced each other around the shoulders, Claire resting her head on Gillian.

“Watch this,” Claire whispered. “She doesn’t do high-fives like a lot of the other kids, so Jamie does this with her instead.”

They watched the weekly ritual of Jamie giving his enthusiastic thumbs-up, his lopsided grin warming the chill in the air. Faith returned the thumbs up, bouncing and grinning.

“That is the cutest feckin’ thing.” Gillian shook her head in awe, eyes watering again.

They returned to the welcome center, three of them hand in hand, and Jamie leading the way walking backwards. Toni was ready with three candy canes to hand them when they arrived.

“Merry Christmas Beauchamps, and Auntie Gi.” Toni winked.

“Ah, before ye go,” Jamie said, reaching around the counter and producing a little gift bag. “Merry Christmas, Sassenach.” He handed Claire the bag, his cheeks flushing red. “From the stables,” he added quickly.

Claire’s brow furrowed, but she couldn’t help the tiny smile that graced her face. “Thank you. Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

She peered up at him through her lashes, and her smile disappeared at the sight of the look he was giving her. It was that same look that she’d caught him sporting time and time again, yet she still hadn’t gotten used to it.

What is it?

And why does it take my breath away…?

“Ready to go?” Gillian snapped Claire out of her reverie.

“Yes, yes let’s go,” Claire stammered, smiling perhaps a bit too brightly. “Merry Christmas Toni, Erica.”

“Merry Christmas!” they called in unison.

“Say bye-bye, Faith! Say Merry Christmas!” Faith smiled and waved, then pulled on her hand.

“Onto McDonald’s,” Claire said to Gillian.

“Aye, another delicacy,” she teased.

As they sat in the drive-thru, Gillian’s phone went off, and a sly grin spread across her face.

“What?” Claire asked.

“She texted me already,” Gillian said.

“Who did?”

Gillian turned around the phone to show Claire the screen:

Hi there! It’s Toni!

Claire’s jaw dropped, scandalized. “When did you give her your number?”

“When ye were busy making heart eyes at the Scot,” Gillian smirked and then quickly composed a response.

“I was not making heart eyes,” Claire said vehemently, inching the car forward and rolling down the window.

“Keep telling yerself that.”

——

McDonald’s eaten and milkshakes empty, the three of them were sitting under a blanket again watching Lilo and Stitch. They all brushed their teeth together, and Faith insisted on being tucked in by Gillian. Once that was all settled, Claire and Gillian sat on the couch again together, knowing they could stay up a bit later since Claire didn’t work tomorrow.

“Well? Ye havena opened it yet.” Gillian nudged her head toward the coffee table, where the little bag that Jamie had given Claire was still sitting.

“Oh. I’d forgotten about it,” Claire said, which was a blatant lie. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it since the moment he held it out to her. Truth be told, she was scared to open it. She hesitantly took it in her hands and opened the bag, removing layers of tissue paper.

She couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread wide across her entire face as she pulled out the contents. A bag of Lindt truffles, and a large back of sour patch kids. There was a festive post-it-note stuck to the truffles that said:

To make up for the candy corn. Merry Christmas, Sassenach.

Claire felt her entire face flush red, and her pulse began to race.

“Candy corn? What does that mean?” Gillian prodded.

“He, uh…he made me try candy corn, Halloween week,” Claire stammered. “I hated it, and he asked what kind of candy I do like.”

“Oh my God.” Gillian shoved her shoulder roughly. “Oh my God, Claire! Holy shite!”

“What…? What? Stop it!” Claire shoved her back and put the candy on the coffee table. “It’s just a joke. Relax.”

Gillian gaped at her in disbelief, then shook her head. “I was joking — well, half-joking — when I texted ye back in October, but God!”

“What?”

“How’s the sex?”

Claire’s eyes widened, and she leaned back in shock. “What sex?”

“With Fraser!”

“Jesus bloody Christ! There is no sex!” Claire’s face was hot as hell again, her mouth dry. “There’s no anything! He’s Faith’s therapist!”

“He’s givin’ ye sweets and gifts and ye’re no’ even putting out?” Gillian leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms. “Christ, he must really like you.”

“For fuck’s sake…” Claire scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re mad.” 

Claire threw the bag on the coffee table, but it landed a little faster than an empty bag should have.

“Is there something still in there?” Gillian said, snatching it at once and plunging her hand inside.

“Gi, stop, stop it! Let me have it!”

Gillian pulled out a hair bow, and her eyes narrowed. “What the Devil?”

“Let me see.” Claire took it from her, and her jaw went slack with realization.

“What?”

“It’s tartan,” Claire said. “The tartan from the clan in Brave.”

“What would ye want wi’ that?” Gillian scoffed.

“It’s not for me…” Claire said, her voice breathy. “It’s for Faith.”

Realization hit Gillian like a bolt of lightning. “Halloween. He wore tartan, and she dressed up from…”

“From Brave,” Claire finished with her.

“Bloody hell…” Gillian said. “He really, really likes ye.”

Claire swallowed thickly against the dryness in her throat, vainly attempting to wet her lips. Her head was spinning, and she could hardly breathe.

“Claire?”

“Well,” Claire said, her voice sounding more strained than she would have liked it to. “As much as I love the Disney movies, how about you and I watch a big-girl movie, hm?” Claire smiled, getting off the couch and retrieving a bottle of wine from the kitchen. “With some big-girl juice?”

Gillian giggled, apparently deciding to not push the subject any further. “Alright. But I’m picking the movie.”

——

Their first Christmas in their new home was nothing short of perfect. Claire had only requested two specific days off for the entire year: Christmas Day, and Faith’s birthday.

Gillian’s present to Claire had already been opened the night before, after Claire had showered from her long shift at the hospital. It was a matching set of Christmas pajamas, with a card that said:

Take this as a promise that we’ll always be together for the holiday.

They cried on each other for a few minutes before donning the pajamas, taking several pictures together in Claire’s full length mirror in her bedroom.

They slept in them and kept them on for presents, just as festive as Faith in her Disney Christmas nightgown. Claire’s present to Gillian was a Long Island t-shirt. Gillian had made a hobby of collecting stupid tourist t-shirts wherever she visited, and Claire had spent plenty of time finding the most touristy Long Island shirt she could.

Faith was beyond thrilled with every single Christmas present she received: her first dollhouse (from Santa), little sets of furniture and little dolls for the dollhouse (from Mummy), and a Merida Barbie doll from Auntie Gi. Claire also decided to give Faith the tartan bow on Christmas morning, handing it to her, saying:

“Look, lovie, another Merida present. This one is from Mister Jamie.”

Never one to be patient, Faith demanded that Claire put the bow in her hair at once, as Auntie Gi was struggling to free the dollhouse from its packaging.

Once Faith was satisfied that every present had been opened and arranged to her heart’s content, they moved into the kitchen to devour the edible arrangement of fruit that Gillian had insisted on getting for Christmas breakfast. Back in the day, Frank made festive pancakes for Christmas morning, and Gillian was determined to start traditions of their own.

Fruit eaten, it was time to start on the Christmas cookies. Claire had purchased several Christmas themed cookie-cutters a few weeks ago, so the three of them made a wide assortment of characters across a wide spectrum of colors. Claire had also bought food dye to use in vanilla icing, so Faith was free to let her creativity run wild, as if she were making edible crafts. All the while, Christmas music played from Claire’s phone, and Faith was humming along and bouncing all day.

Gillian was a slightly better cook than Claire was, so they tag teamed getting the small ham cooked all the way through, along with the green bean casserole (which Faith would not touch with a ten foot pole; she was fine with just ham and applesauce, thank you very much).

Mrs. Lickett had the rest of the holiday week off until the day after New Year’s, and Faith was more than happy to spend the extra time with Gillian. Mary Hawkins had sent Claire a Facebook invitation for a New Year’s party a few weeks ago, and she’d only recently responded that she’d be going. She was uncertain of taking Faith somewhere so crowded, but Mary made it very clear in the description of the event that it would be sensory-friendly. Joe had asked her one day at work if she had any plans for the New Year, surely meaning to invite her over if she didn’t, and Claire felt a strange sense of teenage-like pride in informing him that she did.

Claire’s shift ended at eight, which was exactly when Mary’s party started, so they were only about thirty minutes late. Mary was delighted to have Gillian as well. Despite Mary’s emphasis on a sensory-friendly party, Claire brought Faith’s noise cancelling headphones just in case. Despite the lack of noisemakers, music, or loud television, the constant hum of several voices was making Faith a bit distraught, so Claire put the headphones on her, and after a few minutes of getting used to her silence, she was content again.

Claire was pleased to see a lot of moms she recognized, including Fanny, Kezzie and Josiah running about with Thomas. She was introduced to Mary’s husband, Alex, almost as young as she was. Apparently, Thomas had been a happy accident when they were both still teenagers, and they got married right then. They were quite a sweet couple. 

When midnight came, hats and silent paper party-blowers were passed around. The tellie was kept low, and the countdown was done in hushed whispers. The only sound to be heard as the ball dropped was the crinkling of the party-blowers, a few scattered “Yay!”s, and jovial “Happy New Year!”s all around. Faith was quite content watching the paper curl in and out as she blew, giggling every time.

It wasn’t long after that when Faith started falling asleep, along with most of the other kids, all except Thomas. He was still bouncing off the walls somehow. Mary had given Claire a heartfelt thank you for coming, as did Alex. Claire felt as giddy and fulfilled as she had when they’d left the Abernathy home after Thanksgiving.

“That’s a great bunch,” Gillian said as they buckled themselves in.

“Yes…it really is.”

——

The following day while Claire was at work, Gillian had started to pack, being that her flight was on January second, but she didn’t get very far. Evidently, Faith immediately registered that packing meant that Auntie Gi would be leaving soon, and she was quite irritable and weepy for most of the day. She was inconsolable for the most part, only content when she was hanging onto Gillian or sitting in front of the tellie for a few moments of respite with a movie. She hardly touched her food that night, and when Claire had tried to get her to eat, she’d roughly shoved her plate across the table. Claire had permitted Gillian to be the one to give her a stern talking to; eventually she ate enough to satisfy Claire, and Gillian sat with her until she fell asleep.

Gillian returned to the living room to find Claire trying to rearrange her suitcase so it would actually close. She spent a few minutes trying to help, before they both ended up sitting on it in order to zipper it shut.

Gillian sighed. "Puir wee thing thinks she's miserable. I dinna want to leave either."

Claire draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in until their heads were resting together, not wanting to speak how she felt, lest she burst into tears.

“Can I ask ye something, Claire? And can ye promise me ye’ll be honest?”

“Of course,” Claire said, releasing her so they could look at each other. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, or maybe there is. I don’t know.” She sighed. “Ye ken I’ve been seeing Toni, aye?”

Claire shook her head jerkily, blinking in shock. “Um, no, I don’t ken! When have you been doing that?”

“After you and Faith are asleep.” She shrugged, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “I got an Uber and met her somewhere the first time, now she just picks me up and takes me right to her place. She’s actually quite — ”

“Please, spare me,” Claire interjected quickly. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, of course, but I have to see her interact with my child once a week for the rest of forever.”

“Alright, alright.” Gillian put her hands up in surrender, giggling. “That wasna the point anyway. We dinna just have sex, we talk as well.”

“Well, I should hope,” Claire said wryly. “Be rather awkward otherwise.”

“Och, enough, ye wee prude.” Gillian shoved her arm. “What I’m trying to get at is that you have come up in conversation.”

“Me? In what context?”

“In ‘the Scot has the hots’ context.”

“Oh, Christ, Gi, not this again…”

“I’m serious, Claire,” Gillian said, her eyes widening, no joking in her tone at all. “I brought it up as a joke, ye know me. But then she just rattled off all these things…I’m no’ the only one who sees it. That’s all.”

“Sees what?”

“Are ye daft, woman?” Gillian blinked in disbelief, and then sighed exasperatedly.

“You haven’t asked me a question yet, you know,” Claire said defensively, crossing her arms. “That’s how you opened this conversation.”

“Alright. Fine. Why did ye no’ tell me he was at yer bloody apartment?” Gillian said flatly.

Claire stammered for a moment. “It didn’t seem at all important! Toni told you about that as well?”

“Aye, she did. Didna mean anything by it, just came up in conversation.”

“Right, in conversation about me.”

“Dinna get all fiery on me, Claire. It wasna all about you. She talked as much about Jamie.”

Claire was about to fire back again, but she quickly realized that Gillian was right; she was getting overly defensive and angry, something Gillian was never shy about calling her out on.

“Really. Why didn’t ye tell me?” Gillian asked again, softly.

“It wasn’t conscious…it just didn’t come up.” Claire started picking at a cuticle, focusing her vision there instead of on Gillian.

“Because ye didna want it to come up. Right?”

“It seemed…private. I don’t know. It wasn’t…like you think. Or like she thinks.” Claire hissed in pain at what she was doing to her finger, and Gillian swatted at her hand to make her stop.

“Toni says he makes all these exceptions fer Faith, bendin’ over backwards to make her happy.”

Claire’s head started spinning. “He’s just…being kind.”

“Aye, Claire,” Gillian chuckled. “Because he likes you. A lot more than I even thought.”

“That’s…that’s ridiculous.” Claire shook her head. “My child is his client.”

“Toni says it’s no’ the same as a regular therapist — ”

“Gillian, please…” Claire interrupted, a bit more forcefully than she meant to. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Really, I do. You’re my best friend, I get it. And I love you for it. But this…” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I don’t need this. I don’t need you to play matchmaker like we did in college.”

“Claire…”

“It’s alright, Gi. I’m not angry, I promise. I just…” She sighed. “I don’t need…I don’t need to be rescued anymore. Do you know what I mean? These past few months, just me and Faith…god, I’ve never felt so good about myself. I mean, hell, I’ve had doubt upon doubt creep into my mind, and not every day is good. But she is thriving here, and so am I. I don’t have to explain myself or my parenting to anyone anymore. And…fuck, Gi, I love it. I finally feel like…like I’m doing right by her.” She was surprised to feel the tears in her eyes, and she swallowed to keep them at bay. “For four years of her life, I was this…shell of myself. And god damn it, I pulled myself out of that. I know I had your help, always, and now I have Mrs. Lickett, and the Abernathy’s, and the whole community at the stables…but I did this. For her…and now I realize it was for me, too.”

Gillian put a hand on Claire’s knee. “I understand, hen.”

Claire nodded. “Jamie is incredibly kind, and thoughtful, and he’s done a lot for us. But it’s not what you think, and I don’t need…what you think it is. Faith doesn’t need that. She needs me. I need me. Am I…making any sense?”

“Ye are. Ye dinna have to explain yerself to me, Claire. I’m sorry,” Gillian said sheepishly. “Ye know me. Canna keep my neb out of anyone’s business. Least of all yers.”

Claire offered a tiny smile, then laid her head onto her shoulder. “Will you be seeing your American lover for one final tryst before you depart?”

Gillian snorted. “Nae, we’ve already said our goodbyes. Keeping it casual, ye ken. She’s just out of a relationship and all that.”

“Right. Well I’m glad you had that, however brief. Been a while since you’ve been with a woman, hasn’t it?”

“Aye, ye’re right! I was feeling starved for female affection after years of male disappointment!”

Claire guffawed loudly, and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles that carried into the wee hours of the morning.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #jamie fraser #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #geillis duncan #gillian edgars

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope (3): “Maya.”

A/N: Coffee Shop Trope? Back with a MYKR. Sorry about two sisters. I got stuck and busy so... the shorter little stories are easier to release. might get it up this week. Hopefully. 

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Today was the day she'd finally beat her at her little game. Today she'd get her order down pat. She wouldn't mess it up, she would serve it to her as perfectly as possible. She'd go hang herself if that infuriating woman told her she got even the tiniest thing wrong. Really, what was it with her shameless insistence that it had to match her taste perfectly!

Hell, Claudine knew she'd gotten the blend perfectly last time! That evil woman simply told her that she 'thought the temperature wasn't quite right'.

FUCK that.

Really, just thinking of all her interactions with the woman made Claudine fume.

And yet...

The moments after that brought about a flutter in her chest, remembering how the insufferable woman would go sit at her usual table, right by the window at the far end of Claudine's shop. The five-PM sun's rays would hit her perfectly sculpted face at just the right angle, soft and golden, giving her the most ethereal glow.

It both annoyed and awed Claudine that she could look so amazing. The picture-perfect image of a successful working woman, probably a big-time executive who had aesthetic hobbies and interests that people would like and share off of instagram or the tube. She was sure she had hundreds of thousands- if not millions of followers. Yes, Claudine would admit that she was just that gorgeous.

And maybe... she'd admit that she'd grown on her too.

Just a little.

A little.

A tiny bit. Like an unnoticeable-

"Waiting on your crush, boss?"

Claudine choked on air. 

"SHE-SHE, I- I DON'T HAVE.... CRUSH? WHAT CRUSH? FUTABA I-"

"Christ, calm your tits. My gosh." Kaoruko snorted, from a nearby table.

"Screw off." Claudine barked. Just why did Kaoruko have to spend all her free time ogling Futaba in her shop? Couldn't they do their disgusting flirting elsewhere?

"Hey! I pay you good money for my time here!" The corporate owner frowned, making a show of her statement by getting up from her seat and sticking a few bills in Claudine's vest pocket near her chest.

"I'm not some stripper, Kaoruko."

"I ne'er said a thing, love."

Claudine sighed, turning around to brew herself a cup of her own favorite blend.

The universe must hate her to give her such difficult friends, and one insufferable c-c-... attractive acquaintance.

The front door bell rang and Claudine almost gave herself whiplash as her eyes unknowingly sparkled-

...then dulled at the sight of only Nana.

"Wow, that hurts, Kuro-chan." She laughed. "I'm here for the tomorrow's prep."

Nana was the baker of Claudine's little cafe, but she was also still studying to be the director of her dreams. This had been a little thing on the side she'd done to earn that bit of extra tuition support.

She came in in the late hours of the afternoon to prepare goods that Claudine could simply stick in the oven the next day. And some special closing treats that some customers would wait for.

They called it the cafe’s ‘sweet hours’.

Claudine had wanted to sign Nana a full contract deal; she wanted to get any employee one, but she knew she wasn't big enough of a business to attract workers besides her good friends yet. It had barely been a month or two, with the regular customers coming in, but Claudine knew it wasn't enough to support full-time workers yet.

Why Futaba worked for her when Kaoruko just about paid her for merely living with her was a mystery she could not fathom. Claudine wouldn't complain though. She was thankful for the help.

The bell rung once more, and again Claudine turned to it with her usual smile of welcome, though with a little extra excitement-

"You look happy to see me... or not." Junna pushed her glasses up her nose. "You forgot your special apron, Nana." Junna called, holding the cloth up for her girlfriend to see.

"Thank youuuu!!!" Nana came bounding towards her, planting a kiss on her cheek and leaving a blushing Junna in the middle of the shop as she entered the kitchen.

"Whipped." Kaoruko snickered, high-fiving Claudine.

"I will make sure even less people come to your shop."

"I didn’t even say a thing, demon!"

And the bell rang a third time, and Claudine knew not to get her hopes up.

"At the very least, greet your customers. How are you supposed to attract more people with that cold attitude?" Hikari stated, ushering an excited Karen into the shop, Mahiru trailing behind them as graceful as always.

"Hiya, Kuro-chan! We're all here, huh? How fun!"

Claudine couldn't help but smile. Her friends' presence was something she always found comforting, and they helped her get through tough patches a lot of the time. She was forever grateful.

"Slow day today?" Mahiru sat by the bar, placing her purse next to her. Claudine sighed, nodding as she turned around to make Mahiru's favorite. She'd memorized everyone's usuals by now, having had her friends as her practice customers while she studied to be a barista a few years back.

"No surprise." Claudine replied, serving up the cup.

"You'll find your rhythm soon." Mahiru encouraged. "I love the way you make your drinks. I'm sure the others would agree. Everyone just hasn't found you yet, is all."

Claudine smiled. "Hope I get found soon then, huh?"

"Wishing for the best."

“Merci."

She really hoped so. She didn’t want her dream to just go under that quickly after it had just become a reality.

And this time, as she was lost in her thoughts, Claudine didn't register the bell, nor the clack of high heels and the scent of gentle sophistication as a perfume. So she was surprised when she turned around with Hikari and Karen's drinks in hand, successfully dropping it on the floor, spilling its contents for Futaba to grumpily clean up. It was her. She was here. She-

Stupefied as she was by her goddess-like presence, in a split second, her mind reminded her of the little competition she'd struggled weeks now for. As the woman's lips parted to say her first words, so did Claudine's.

""Venti, half-whole milk, one quarter one percent, one quarter non-fat, extra hot, split quad shots one-and-a-half shots decaf, two-and-a-half shots regular), no foam latte, with whip, two packets of splenda, one sugar in the raw, a touch of vanilla syrup and three short sprinkles of cinnamon.""

They’d chanted it like a practiced spell, perfectly in unison, and that feat in itself made Claudine feel so good.

"!!"

"With a baumkuchen on the side, right?" Claudine grinned, finally tasting that oh-so-sweet victory that came in the form of the woman's shocked face. Finally, she'd broken her cool and caught her off-guard, body moving automatically to prepare the drink with insane efficiency and practiced perfection.

Slipping the order across the counter, Claudine offered her most charming smile.

"Now! Tell me it's perfect so I can finally... finally know your name." This was it. The thing that had Claudine stumped for weeks on end, perplexed, and curious about. Ever since this woman refused to give her even an alias to be able to mark the order, long ago on that one busy day. Claudine had to constantly watch and think about the woman in order to get her drink to her right. "I've told you I need it to keep track of orders, you irritable-"

Soft and sweet, a little sticky with lipstick.

Claudine's hand touched her warmed lips, some drink stains and a few crumbs there as well. Everyone in the room was quietly watching on, shocked (Well, Hikari had a hand over Karen's mouth to keep her from screaming in delight).

"Maya."

The woman tried to sound sultry- before she noticed the crumbs... and the stains... and her lipstick on Claudine.

"Oh dear me! I- I apologize, I... I didn't mean for that to- I-" Frantically, she dug through her purse, fishing out some wipes and dabbed at a stunned Claudine's mouth, her eyes tracing over every feature of the panicked woman in front of her, focused yet in a daze. "I- I was trying to... um... I'm really sorry-"

"Maya. It's a lovely name."

As lovely as you.

#mayakuro #fanfic #starira #revue starlight #shoujo kageki revue starlight #trope #saijou claudine #tendou maya #all the girls #nana and junna on the side #and the rest of the pairings actually

[infinitevariety]

May Your Days Be Merry

Having never been able to celebrate previously, Aziraphale and Crowley decide to embrace the festive season and make the most of their first December together since the world didn’t end.

Chapter Seventeen: Let Nothing You Dismay (AO3)

Crowley and Aziraphale have very different reactions when carol singers stop by the bookshop.

As Crowley upends the last of the third bottle of wine into a glass, there is a knock at the bookshop door.

“I’ll get it,” he says as he stands. “It’ll be the sushi we ordered.”

“Ooh, I am hungry!” Aziraphale claps his hands in front of his chest like an excited child.

Just drunkenly merry enough to be smiling for no reason, Crowley throws open the door without much thought. He can’t help but slow blink once at the sight in front of him.

“Aziraphale,” he calls over his shoulder, “I need help reacting to something!”

Aziraphale totters up behind him and looks out of the door over Crowley’s shoulder. He gasps, and Crowley isn’t sure if it’s a gasp of shock, horror, or delight. Anything Aziraphale might have followed up his gasp with is forestalled, as the group of people gathered on their doorstep begin singing.

“God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay—”

Well, he and Aziraphale have got the merry gentlemen part down, that’s for sure.

“How lovely!” Aziraphale breathes at Crowley’s ear. “I’ll just nip and get our wine!”

It had been a gasp of delight, then.

While Aziraphale is gone, Crowley stares blankly at the carollers, still singing away.

“Remember Christ our saviour was born on Christmas day—”

He was actually born in September, but Crowley has mostly managed to stay quiet about that over the last 2000 years. He settles for an eye roll behind his sunglasses in the moment.

When Aziraphale returns, wine glasses in hand, Crowley accepts his gratefully and quickly takes a long, deep drink.

“To save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray—”

Crowley feels one of Aziraphale’s hands touch his lower back and stroke, broad and comforting, up and down his spine. For Aziraphale’s sake he decides not to even think a derogatory comment about that line.

“Oh, tidings of comfort and joy. Comfort and joy—”

And okay, this, at least, Crowley can get behind. The comfort of a glass or wine or fifteen, the joy of seeing Aziraphale’s cheeks get rosier and his smile looser. He feels a smile of his own pull at his mouth. The carollers must see the twitch of Crowley’s lips and take it as tacit approval, because they carry on straight into another verse.

“I’m going to grab some biscuits,” says Aziraphale. He squeezes where his hand rests on Crowley’s hip before slipping away.

Aziraphale quickly returns and they stand through several more verses of one of Crowley’s least favourite carols. (Though who is he kidding? He hates them all.) Crowley nibbles on a solitary biscuit while Aziraphale munches through a few. When the carol finally—finally—ends, Aziraphale offers out biscuits to the group, who accept them gratefully.

“That was simply wonderful!” gushes Aziraphale, once everyone has taken a biscuit. “Do you know Hark! The Herald Angels Sing?”

Crowley barely suppresses a groan, settling for looking side-eye at Aziraphale, who grins unrepentantly as the carollers begin singing. Towards the end of this second—and thankfully slightly shorter—carol, Aziraphale disappears, mumbling something about hot chocolates. Crowley can’t wait to sink back into the sofa with a hot mug in his hands.

He is disappointed.

Aziraphale appears just as the last note rings out, carrying a tray laden with mugs of hot chocolate for not only for himself and Crowley, but for all the carol singers as well.

“They’re the perfect drinking temperature, so don’t dilly dally!”

As the carollers tuck into their miracled drinks, Crowley turns to Aziraphale.

“Really?” he whispered.

“What?” asks Aziraphale. “They much be parched. I think they’ve more than earned a little hot chocolate!”

“And Hark! The Herald Angels Sing?”

Aziraphale lips tip upwards in a small smile. “That was just a bit of fun,” he admits before taking a drink of his own hot chocolate.

Once everyone has finished their drinks, Aziraphale collects all the mugs, beaming at the carollers.

“Any more requests?” one of them cheerfully asks.

Aziraphale opens his mouth to speak, but Crowley refuses to let him ask for another song about himself, and quickly blurts out his suggestion.

“How about Little Donkey? Always been one of my favourites.”

The carollers strike it up immediately, but Crowley barely pays attention. His focus is on Aziraphale, who is straining with the effort of not rolling his eyes. Aziraphale hates Little Donkey. He only makes it to about halfway through, then Aziraphale mumbles something about nuts and wanders off again. As he requested the damn song, Crowley feels he has to remain.

Only a few lines of song later, Crowley catches a glimpse of Deliveroo turquoise at the back of the group.

“’Scuse me,” he grumbles to the carollers as he steps down from the steps, meeting the Deliveroo rider halfway.

Quickly exchanging the bag of food for a generous tip, Crowley soon ducks back inside. The carollers are still singing and have two verses left when Crowley slams the door closed on them.

“Sushi’s here,” he calls as he wanders back to the sofa.

"Oh, fabulous!” Aziraphale hurriedly abandons his basket of nuts on a shelf and comes to join Crowley. “What about the carol singers?”

"Yeah... they finished,” Crowley tells him as he glances behind him at the closed door. “Left."

“There was no need for you to request Little bloody Donkey.”

“What? I thought you liked that one.” Crowley feigns innocence before stuffing a gyoza in his mouth so he won’t grin and give it all away.

“You know full well I don’t. Pass me the dragon rolls, please, and don’t eat all the gyozas.”

Crowley swallows the second gyoza he’d just popped into his mouth. “They’re my favourite. And you’re an angel, there shouldn’t be a carol you don’t like.”

“Well there is and it is Little blasted Donkey. If you like gyoza so much you should order two portions and stop eating all of mine.”

“Maybe I’ll just order three dozen gyozas and no dragon rolls next time. And what have you got against Little Donkey anyway? Hard working mule, he was.”

Aziraphale takes a breath and actually puts down his dragon roll. Crowley knows he’s in for a lecture now and almost regrets asking. Almost. He grabs another gyoza and settles in.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #ace ineffable husbands #ineffably festive #fic: may your days be merry #2020 advent ficlet challenge #i wrote this

[rchtoziers]

a kiss discretely, reddie ❤️

13. [a kiss] discreetly. (from this list)

ANYTHING FOR YOU MY LOVE XOXO

*waves a magic wand* eddie and also stan survived and they kicked the fuck out of the clown and won because uh *spins wheel* i said so

also uh this got way out of hand before we even got to the kiss major whoops on my part ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

*

Listen, Eddie’s a risk analyst, so he understands when something is a bad fucking idea.

He knows the facts: he quite literally just finalized his divorce, he’s still in physical therapy and has a long way to go, he’s got a whole childhood’s worth of repressed memories that he now needs to work out in therapy, and up until three months ago he wasn’t even able to think about standing up without crying.

So, logically, he knows he should probably deal with one or two or all of those things before he starts a new relationship. Logically.

Logic goes out the fucking window, though, the second Eddie looked up one day at Richie and realized he’d been in love with him ever since they were kids.

Really, his only probable next step was to grab a fistful of Richie’s shirt and tug him down into a kiss they’d both been waiting for forever.

Lucky for Eddie, Richie is really easy to persuade after one or two or a hundred kisses, which is why it takes approximately two seconds after Eddie timidly asks, “Is it okay if we don’t tell anyone about this just yet? Just for a little bit?” for Richie to nod and sag his shoulders in relief as he ducks down to kiss Eddie again and again.

If Eddie’s being completely honest, he’s shocked they’ve managed to keep it a secret for so long.

Things just keep coming up.

Stan and Patty announce that they’re finally gonna have a baby, and what are Richie and Eddie supposed to do, steal their thunder? Then Bill announces his own divorce and really, it doesn’t come as a surprise, but Richie and Eddie certainly can’t rub their happiness in his face, it would be rude. They’ve finally reached a quiet point, about a month into… whatever this is when all their friends have stopped having big news, but the day they decide to text the group chat is the literal exact same day that Bev and Ben announce they’re getting married over the weekend and everyone is expected to be in attendance.

And Eddie is happy for his friends, genuinely, he’s not that big of an asshole, but the whole thing is really inconvenient for him and it honestly just gets worse when he catches sight of Richie in his best man’s tux. Eddie can’t exactly jump Richie at the wedding, so, again. Inconvenient.

Richie’s delighted laughter when Eddie flushes red at the sight of him then turns on his heel to leave the room will echo in Eddie’s ears for many years to come, however, and it almost makes it worth it.

“Dance with me,” Richie murmurs against the shell of Eddie’s ear, a few songs after Beverly and Ben’s first dance, when everyone else is on the dance floor and no one is sparing them a second glance.

“That’s not exactly discreet, Rich,” Eddie reminds him.

But Richie just laughs and twines his fingers with Eddie’s to tug him forward. “Everyone else is dancing, it would look weird if we didn’t join,” Richie says. “Plus it’s an upbeat song, so. Logistically speaking, we’re fine.”

Eddie can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “You’re not using that word right.”

“Ooh, please teach me more about logistics, Eds, it really gets me going,” Richie croons. He spins Eddie around dramatically when they both make it onto the dance floor, ridiculous and charming as ever.

“I hate you,” Eddie sighs, but it doesn’t take much convincing to get him to move across the floor with Richie in exceedingly ridiculous ways. He’s sure his feelings are written clearly across his face for anyone to see, but for once Eddie doesn’t really care.

The song changes to a slow one, and before Eddie can even really understand it, Richie is wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and turning him slowly. It’s only natural for Eddie’s hands to fall onto Richie’s shoulders, even with those infuriating four inches of height that Richie’s got on him.

He raises an eyebrow when Richie catches his gaze.

“Bev and Ben haven’t looked away from one another, like, at all tonight,” Richie murmurs. “No one is gonna be looking at us.”

Eddie ducks his face into Richie’s neck to hide his grin. It strikes him right below his chest, sometimes, how romantic Richie can be without even trying. He thinks he could live in this moment forever and they’d both be just fine.

“You know, a lot of relationships start at weddings,” Eddie says conversationally. “Wouldn’t be much of a stretch for our friends to assume this is when we got together.”

He can feel the rumble of Richie’s laughter from where they’re pressed chest to chest. “Edward Kaspbrak, are you suggesting that we lie to our friends and tell them that this was the night I finally convinced you to be my boyfriend? Has the last month meant nothing to you?”

Eddie’s certain his grin would be enough to light up this whole venue if the power were to go out right now. He raises his head and looks Richie in the eye. “Boyfriend?” he repeats.

“What are you, twelve?” Richie asks. “Are we not dating?”

Eddie thinks he’s happy enough that he could burst into flames right now, everyone else be damned. “You’ve never called me that before, god forbid if I’m a little excited to hear it. Jesus Christ.”

“What do you want me to call you?” Richie asks, and his laughter is bubbly and bright when Eddie groans. “No, seriously, what else would I call you? My lover? The stars in my sky? My fiancé? My angel of the morning? I could pull a Stanley and call you my babylove.”

“Fiancé?” Eddie repeats, incredulous. “We’ve been together for a month, Richie.”

“I believe it’s called u-hauling in the gay community, Eduardo, learn your terminology.”

“I hate you,” Eddie sighs.

Richie lifts a hand and brushes his thumb along Eddie’s jaw. “I love you,” he says seriously, like it’s not the first time he’s said it out loud to Eddie. Like he’s said it a thousand times before.

“Did you seriously just say that for the first time at our best friends’ wedding?” Eddie asks. “Are you serious right now? What happened to us not wanting to take the spotlight away from our friends, Richie! This is why we’ve kept our mouths shut for a month!”

“Yeesh, you don’t have to say it back, I just needed to get it off my chest, god damn.”

“Of course I love you,” Eddie tells him. “I’ve been in love with you for eons. I wouldn’t have kissed you a month ago if I wasn’t so in love with you I thought I was gonna stop breathing if I didn’t kiss you. You’re it for me, asshole. Past, present, and future. Of course I love you.”

“Of course,” Richie repeats. His voice is faint; he looks a little shell-shocked.

Eddie softens. There’s a curl at the base of Richie’s neck that he tugs on affectionately. “I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you think I didn’t love you so much it was eating me alive,” he says.

Richie laughs, startled. Bright. In love. Eddie wants to kiss him senseless. “God, it’s really fucking obnoxious that I can’t kiss you right now.”

“I was literally just thinking the same thing,” Eddie says. He takes a quick glance around the room. No one is looking at them, and even if they were, Eddie isn’t sure he’d even care. He presses up on his toes and captures Richie’s mouth in a brief, tender kiss.

Richie’s smiling before he even pulls away.

“That was pretty sneaky, 007,” Richie tells him. “I think we should give it another go.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Eddie warns.

Richie pulls him impossibly closer. “Oh, baby, all my luck got put towards making you fall in love with me, I don’t have any left. And hell, I don’t need it.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Eddie whines, but he tightens his grip around Richie’s neck anyway. The song is coming to a close and he knows they don’t have much time left, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t enjoy this for all it’s worth.

“It’s a wedding, it’s supposed to be cheesy,” Richie argues.

Eddie kisses Richie’s throat, the closest spot he can reach. Since he knows no one can see it. Since he knows that Richie loves him back.

#reddie #richie #eddie #my writing #stanbarbers #answered #whoop this ended up being 1.4k words. Will I Ever Shut Up #ANYWAY #I HOPE THIS IS CUTE #AND NOT TERRIBLE #LOVE U GABBY XOXO #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[eunsoyi]

Can i please request a scenario for Daichi where Kiyoko brings her extroverted bestie (the reader) along to practice once and somehow she manages to completely fluster him so Kiyoko keeps bringing her cause she realises he has a crush on her? If that makes sense?🥺😂

isn’t impossible

sawamura daichi never experienced love. well, to be frank, his parents, family members and friends, they all love him a good amount. but that wasn’t the love he was pertaining to.

by love, he means the sappy, rose-colored, fluttering kind of love that people from romcoms have pressured the youth to experience. sure, he found some girls beautiful. both kiyoko and yachi are relatively good-looking, but not to the point where it made his heart skip a beat. nevertheless, daichi didn’t care. falling in love never crossed his mind, anyway. he was too busy with volleyball to even have a crush.

oh boy, was he wrong.

one day, kiyoko had brought one of her friends from her class during practice. she said she needed all the help she could get, and that friend was more than happy to assist her. daichi knew her, of course, they were in the same year after all, but that didn’t mean he was particularly fond of her.

kiyoko’s best friend was her polar opposite. she was loud, boisterous, and flashy as compared to kiyoko who was more reserved. daichi wasn’t a fan of loud noises, so right off the bat, he assumed they weren’t going to get along.

he was wrong once more.

“y/n! you’re back!” hinata suddenly yelled and gave kiyoko’s friend a bear hug. the other teammates just laughed in response (with the exception of kageyama and tsukishima pulling the orange-haired boy away from the poor girl). daichi noticed she was getting along with their teammates pretty well except for him. he hasn’t really attempted to strike a conversation. he just wasn’t interested.

“sawamura-san! good aftie!” she suddenly yelled from the other side of the court where the team huddled around her unconsciously.

okay, maybe he was interested.

he let out a silent wave and continued setting up the court. “what’s up with you?” kiyoko suddenly asked, making daichi jump from shock.

“jesus christ, shimizu.” he gasped for air. “nothing’s wrong.”

“do you hate y/n?” kiyoko asked bluntly, helping him in setting up the nets.

“what? no!” he defensively replied. “it’s just.. we’re not close.”

he met your eyes while talking and you gave him another wave. daichi felt the temperature of the gym rise when you looked at him.

“ah, i see.” kiyoko mumbled in response. once she finished her job, she left daichi and went to call on the other boys for practice to start.

daichi noticed he was seeing her more often.

he didn’t see her on purpose, it was more of like he was meeting her eyes more often than usual. he also noticed that he tends to follow her figure wherever she goes, and that in a crowded room full of rowdy third-years, the first person he looked for was her.

“don’t you think you have a crush?” asahi tried to reason out after daichi vented out to him.

“nah, no. that’s impossible.” he responded nonchalantly while he glanced at the amount of people that were gathering around her, talking.

“it’s a crush.” sugawara whispered to asahi.

“yup, it’s definitely a crush.”

little did daichi know, his two best friends approached kiyoko after class and told her about their small revelation. kiyoko was more than delighted and had assured them that she has a plan.

that day, she appeared again during practice.

“sawamura-san!” she exclaimed once she saw daichi’s presence, ignoring the other members who were attempting to catch her attention.

“oh. hey, y/n.” he said, almost stuttering in the process.

he tried his best to not even look at her direction while they were busying themselves with practice. he increased the amount of drills on purpose just to distract himself, and to let him think about why was he even feeling that way. it was impossible. him, having a crush on her? no. he hasn’t even talked to her properly.

“one more!” he yelled through his exhausted voice.

“hey, captain. we should rest.” sugawara exhaled, crouching down in exhaustion. daichi looked back at his teammates who were all not in good condition from the vigorous training. he sighed and wiped his sweat angrily. “alright. five minutes.”

he went towards the side of the court, away from everybody and wiped himself with a towel. he felt guilty for dragging his teammates along with him in dealing with his personal problems. but what’s done is done. he thought about just apologizing and reducing the drills once the break was over.

“sawamura-san?” a familiar booming voice called out. he looked towards the direction of the voice and noticed kiyoko’s best friend running towards him with a bottle of water. “training is a lot more tiresome today, huh?”

he let out a chuckle. “yeah. my bad.”

“you deserve to rest, you know?” she beamed, handing him the water to which he reluctantly accepted. she smiled at him once more and walked back to where the others were and handed them bottles of water as well.

daichi looked down at the bottle in his hand and felt himself blush.

damn, i feel stupid, he thought while grinning to himself. maybe liking her isn’t impossible at all.

sorry for responding so late! hope you like this! & everyone please check out my 100-follower special here! i have an exciting event planned out so i hope u all participate & send in requests <3

#daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi headcanons #daichi scenarios #daichi hcs #daichi x reader #daichi fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq x reader #hq headcanons #hq hcs #hq scenarios #hq fluff