#not a hunched anxious shoulder in sight

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

What I love about this scene is not just how casual and open they are with being gay, that theres no need to hide their queerness in this universe

But its also Jespers hand on Wylans neck, something given his past could be a massive trigger for him, but he feels so completely safe with Jesper he can just enjoy the moment

#diazepam has got me in my feels #like his hand takes up wys entire neck #not a hunched anxious shoulder in sight #give them back to me or by the old gods and the new netflix will suffer #lets get the queers AND the witches on this #soc #six of crows #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wesper

[tonyspank]

"CHEF'S HERE..."

Summary: "Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors

Warnings: nothing really, chef y/n is giving gordon ramsay a bit

Words: 800+

A/N: hi everyone! been a while eh

"Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors.

You cast a quick peek around. A dozen cooks and servers are preparing for the evening rush, and the air is humid and damp from the hot burners.

"Where's Evan?" You inquire, scouring the room for a sight of his familiar face among the pandemonium. The other cooks trade looks, displaying a mix of perplexity and fear.

Ava gestures at Evan, who is frozen in his trackers, as if he has just seen a ghost. His eyes widen, and he stares at you with his mouth open. You can watch the color drain from Evan's face as he cautiously approaches you, stuttering over his words.

Everyone in the room goes silent as they watch this unexpected meeting occur.

You rush over to him and take him by the elbow, forcing him to look at his plate, which had been returned due to the lobster being undercooked.

"What is this?" you question, pointing at the lobster. Evan moves his focus from you to the plate, his face shifting from panic to perplexity.

Everyone in the room is waiting for an explanation while he stammers, attempting to find the appropriate words to explain the situation.

"Uhhhh," Evan says, searching the kitchen for help.

"It's lobster, idiot," you snarl. "How long have you been here?" "Why do I have to deal with your messes all the time?"

Evan's face flushes with shame. "I... uh..."

"Don't say anything!" You cut him off with a snap.

He looks at you, perplexed.

"I break my fucking foot working my ass off in this restaurant, and the one day I need you to be on your A-game, of course you disappoint." Evan averts his gaze, his shoulders hunching.

Holding the lobster tail in front of his face, you seize it. "Apologize."

Evan's lips move in and out of uncertainty over how to reply. You snarl, "I said, apologize."

He glances at the lobster for a moment, then back at you, his expression bewildered.

"I'm... sorry?"

You turn to face the rest of the kitchen and aggressively toss the lobster in the garbage. "Someone, get me a fucking apron... now!"

You swiftly tie an apron around your waist after a server approaches you with one. Realizing that the other employees have seen your outburst, you observe them exchanging anxious glances as you make ready to return to work.

Taking a deep breath, you attempt to gather yourself and concentrate on the task at hand.

"Alright, everyone, listen up! It's time to turn this day around!" You say this, clapping your hands together.

The kitchen is silent, and the staff stands still, looking between you and Evan.

"Now," you point at the food on the stove, "someone give me a lobster; I'll prepare it myself."

No one moves.

"Well?" You demand, "We don't have all night! The dining room is packed, and we have tables that are waiting!"

At this point, the staff jumps into action, and the kitchen comes alive.

"Yes, Chef," someone mutters and hands you a plate with a lobster tail.

Within a couple of minutes, you're walking back out of the kitchen, your hair tied up and an apron wrapped around your waist, walking in the direction of the table that had originally ordered the lobster.

"Hi there, I'm so sorry about the delay. Can I offer you something on the house to compensate?" You ask, approaching the table, smiling apologetically, trying to mask the anger that is still coursing through you.

The brunette finally looks up, meeting your gaze. You immediately recognize those brown eyes.

"Y/N?" She asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, Jenna." You say, letting out a small laugh. "What— what are you doing here? I thought you were in New York."

"Well, I wanted to surprise you." She laughs, shaking her head. "And what about you? I thought I told you to rest your foot."

You run a hand through your hair and mutter, "Baise-moi... (Fuck me...) Uh... it's a long story,"

With a lighthearted smile pulling at the corner of her lips, Jenna raises an eyebrow. Oh, gosh. She leans in closer and adds, "Well, I have all the time in the world to hear it."

You give your girlfriend a sidelong glance while sulking. "It's not that serious, baby. The boot helps a lot."

She sighs slightly and rolls her eyes. "You should be at home, resting."

"I'm fine." You sigh and cross your arms.

Jenna tilts her head, purses her lips, and raises her eyebrows.

"I swear, baby."

"Well, as much as I like the fact that you're here, I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself. Especially after how hard you worked."

You grin and nod slightly. "In any case, try the lobster. "Made by yours truly."

"Of course. Thank you, darling."

You nod and walk back to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Jenna digging into the food you cooked.

"How'd it go?" Evan asks.

"It's my girlfriend," you tell him, untying the apron and setting it aside.

"What? The blonde one?"

"No, not the blonde one."

"The brunette one? Jenna Ortega?!"

You roll your eyes, grab your jacket and slip it on.

"Yeah, Evan, the brunette one," you say, pushing open the doors and making your way towards the exit.

"Oh."

#tonyspank #jenna ortega x reader #reader insert #jenna ortega #get me #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #wattpad #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna x y/n

[luxbub]

hii!!! i really love your stuff :)

i was wondering if i could request a lil something about how peter (parker ofc) would react to reader being self conscious about looks n being "pretty enough" for him? totally cool if it's not up your alley, i just really like the way you write him! thanks <3

peter parker’s beautiful gf

a/n ilyyy, you’re so sweet, fr kicking my feet rn. I really hope you like it even through my obv incapability of reassuring people. I’ve thought about a more spicy outcome of this blurb so if you’re up to it just tell me and i’ll post it<3

pt.2 (nsfw)

“What are you doing?”

Shit.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, half-naked in peter’s room. The only clothing you seemed to have on was your underwear and a too-big for you t-shirt with some math pun on it—probably peter’s— that reached to your mid-thigh.

“Um, nothing, i was just getting dressed.” You say softly, with a small smile gracing your face and yet that’s enough to convince peter that there’s something off.

Instead of trying to make you talk which would take hours of you going back and forth, he came up from behind you, his long fingers grabbing at your waist and gently massaging the flesh there, as he leaned his head on your shoulder. His back a little hunched from the height difference, but he seemed not to pay attention to it, giving all his attention to you.

“Do you think i’m pretty?”

Silence rung out in the room, as now you were both looking at your reflection in the mirror—more like your reflection. You were starting to get nervous, as peter kept on staring strictly at you from the mirror.

You had no make up and your hair was a mess, why wouldn’t you be nervous? You rarely let people see you without any of those things in check, so the little sleepovers you had with peter still caused anxious butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“You are so beautiful.” Peter murmured, into the skin just below your ear. He slowly started trailing kisses on your neck, every few seconds words like “my perfect girl” or “pretty girl” spewing from his lips.

Soon he had littered your whole neck and face with kisses, when he turned you around.

“You are the most beautiful girl, you know that?” Peter asked raising an eyebrow. You faces were a few inches away and his breath was fanning your face as your eyes started stinging.

“You’re even way out of my league, you have no idea how many times a day i wonder how am i so lucky? To have the most beautiful and breathtaking and funny and smart—and god, i can go on for hours, but having you in my arms, loving you is the best thing that can ever happen to me. Each time i see you, sweetheart, i can still feel the rapid beat of my heart or the way my breath hitches, just from the sight of you. Each morning that i wake up with you by my side, and you’re still asleep, i’m given the gift of just staring at you for hours till you wake up and smile with that cute smile of yours. Every day that i see you, my day is made. I could stare and stare and stare for hours and still wouldn’t be able to find ugliness on your face nor your body. Cause you’re all beautiful, baby—from the inside out.”

Stunned, once again the room was engulfed by silence, as tears were now freely falling down your face. Peter was sweet, all the time; complimenting you, touching you, comforting you.

But this was different; this was peter confessing, his love, his adorance.

Looking at your tear-stained face, peter took a hold of your cheek in one hand; wiping away the wetness, softly murmuring “you’re my beautiful girl”.

not proofread!

#peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker x reader #peter parker drabble #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parler x fem!reader #marvel x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman blurb #🫧bubbles writes

[i-luvsang]

bitter(but mostly)sweet — kim hongjoong

1.2K MILESTONE EVENT ☆ OPEN gn!reader , hurt/lots of comfort , cw : pet names (baby, love), crying, reader has an anxiety attack, reader is lowkey nonverbal for a little bit (disclaimer! all this is based off my personal experience with anxiety, just remember we all experience it differently and that we are all valid in those experiences <3) , wc : (almost) 1K , eee tysm for requesting sweetest ❄️ anon hope you find some warmth in this winkwink

the moment hongjoong lays eyes on you, he knows something is off. the sight of you sitting at the desk in his room, hunched over school work isn’t anything uncommon, but the far-away look in your eyes and the sharp furrow of your eyebrows sparks worry in his mind. his eyes drift down to see the nervous fiddling of your hands and bouncing of your leg. 

he sets his bag down on the floor, gently, as to not startle you, but the sound still pulls an almost imperceptible flinch from your body that he doesn’t fail to notice. you turn your head to look at him, trying to smooth the rough, telling features on your face to cover up your anxious heart. but you can already see the worried crease between his brows as he walks over to you, footsteps falling softly across the room and you wonder if you’ll be able to keep your tears at bay if he keeps looking at you like this.

casting your eyes down, you sigh and begin to chew at your bottom lip. even when he crouches beside you and turns the chair away from your computer to face him, you do what you can to avoid his gaze.

“baby…” he starts softly. “what’s wrong?”

you just shake your head, not wanting to voice your anxieties out loud. his eyes are drawn to the incessant rubbing of your hands against one another, your nervous energy clearly building along with the tears in your eyes.

he says your name with all the gentleness that he can muster. “can i touch you? is that okay?” your only immediate reaction is a sharp inhale, so he keeps his hands on the chair rather than grasping your hands the way he wants to. he can tell you’re debating in your already crowded mind. “you can say no, my love” he reminds you. “just wanna hold your hands if that could help you.” at that you nod. “that’s alright then?” you nod again. “baby… can i hear it? if not, that’s okay, i just wanna be sure.”

you bite the inside of your cheek and take a deep breath. your voice is barely a whisper when you affirm, “yeah.. that’s okay.”

“good job, baby,” he whispers under his breath, then lets his hands make their way towards yours. first, he gently pulls them apart from each other, worried about you scratching or hurting yourself accidentally. when his hands wrap around yours, he immediately feels the way you tighten your fingers around his, as if grounding yourself in his touch. that’s when he hears your sniffle, your eyes still avoiding his gaze.

“i’m here now, baby. it’s alright, okay?”

you nod again, finally letting a tear fall. “i just– i can’t–” you cut yourself off with your own uneven breathing. you feel like you’re gasping for air as you attempt to explain to hongjoong your frustration and fears due to how overwhelming school has been lately, but that breathlessness is making it difficult. hongjoong, as always, is quick to notice, and slowly, as if silently asking permission stands and begins to pull you into his arms. hastily, you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his torso. his hands reach your back and the back of your head, providing calming strokes as you allow yourself to cry into his embrace.

he comforts you softly with his words too, "sh, sh, you're okay now. we’ll figure it out, okay? it’s alright.” he repeats many sweet words like a mantra, his voice as grounding as his loving touch. when your tears subside, he gently moves your arms from around his waist, crouching down again to be face to face with you. you let your arms fall over his shoulders instead, and finally let your gaze wander to meet his. “there you are,” he offers you a soft smile, and you do your best to return one of your own.

“thank you, joongie,” you whisper, voice hoarse from crying.

“of course, my love.” he pulls you into one more hug, your head tucked into his shoulder this time. “let’s get you some water and something to eat, yeah?” he suggests, noting the empty granola bar wrapper on the desk.

“okay,” you nod, still anxious to do anything but your work, but aware that a small break and sustenance will certainly help you. hongjoong pulls you up with him, keeping your hand in his as he leads you to the kitchen. he lets you stick close to his side as he prepares a quick meal of leftovers for you, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead when you sit down at the table. it’s mostly quiet as you eat, but his presence is more than enough comfort for you.

as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he clears and washes your dishes for you without a word. you hesitate by his side once he’s done, aware you won’t be able to sleep well without getting more work done, but desperately wanting to just go to bed in his arms.

and he proves once again how well he knows you when he pulls you into another hug, right there in the middle of the kitchen.

“let’s go finish one assignment for tonight, and we’ll make you a plan for tomorrow, okay?” he says into your hair. you nod into his embrace, ever grateful for each ounce of care and love he pours out for you.

“love you, joongie,” you mumble, hoping that smile you’re imagining is sitting softly on his lips.

by the way he replies with “i love you too,” you can hear the bittersweet smile in his voice, the one that means he’s glad you’re alright now but wishes you never had to cry in the first place.

#cromernet #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #hongjoong #kim hongjoon #ateez hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong fluff #ateez scenarios #hongjoong fanfic #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #hongjoong comfort #ateez oneshot #hongjoong scenarios #ateez hurt/comfort #ateez comfort #hongjoong angst #ateez angst #hongjoong headcanons #ateez fic #ateez reactions

[suzukiblu]

anxious

"Okay," 105 says before crying a little more. A decent person would have hugged him a good dozen times by now or maybe just picked him up first thing and then never put him down again, but a decent person also wouldn't have made him to begin with.

Tim thinks about Harry Harlow and the wire mother monkeys.

And the cloth ones.

He steps around the side of the kitchen island and very carefully wraps his arms around 105.

105 holds himself very, very still.

"I'm sorry," Tim says quietly. "I'm so sorry. I'm not going to put you back in a tube. You don't have to be Kon. I never should've tried to make you think that you were."

"But I'm too little to do anything," 105 says, glancing up at him nervously. "And if I'm not gonna be Kon, then what am I gonna be?"

Tim's capacity for self-loathing could power every Gotham in the entire goddamn multiverse at this point.

"I don't know," he says carefully, doing his best to look the kid in the eye even with as much as the sight of his face hurts. "But that's up to you, okay? Not me. And I'll make sure . . . I'll make sure someone takes care of you, alright? You're not going to be–alone. Or anything like that. And no one's going to make you be anything you're not. Or . . . anyone you're not. Not if I can help it."

105 stares up at him for a long moment. Blinks a few times. Then he hunches his shoulders and ducks his head and cries some more.

Tim keeps his arms around him, because it's the only thing he can think to do.

He has really, really fucked up here.

"Do you want a name?" he asks quietly, because Kon didn't have one of those for way too long and the kid is already gonna go through enough without having to deal with being called "105" all the time. And–and also, because whatever happens, he wants the kid to know the selfish bastard who made him at least understands that he's a person–understands that he's his own person. At least understands he's not just . . . "A real name, I mean. Not one of Kon's or an alias or an experiment number."

"I don't know," 105 says, his small little voice just a bit too close to broken. "I'm not . . . I don't know what I am if I'm not gonna be Kon. I don't know what else to be."

"You don't have to know that yet, okay? You're a kid. It's fine not to know who you want to be yet," Tim tells him less in an attempt to not be the total bastard that he so very clearly is and more just to try and give the kid something not fucked up to hold onto. Just . . . something.

Pretty much anything would do, he thinks, as long as it's not the idea of having to be anyone he's not.

"I'm not supposed to be a kid, though," 105 says. "You wanted me to be big like Kon."

"Kon was still a kid too," Tim says tiredly, shaking his head. "And I mean–all he ever knew how to want to be was Superman, and Superman . . . isn't actually a real person. Superman's like–I don't know. An ideal. And trying to live up to something like that is very painful. I don't want you to feel like you need to do that."

"But you made me to do that," 105 says in confusion, and Tim tightens his jaw and lets go of him. Takes a step back.

"I did," he agrees quietly as he catches 105's eyes again. The sight of his face doesn't hurt any less. "But that was wrong of me."

". . . making me was–?" 105 starts nervously, and Tim's chest fucking hurts.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he cuts him off with. "I did bad things, but that's not your fault, and it doesn't mean you're bad."

"But I only exist because you did something bad," 105 says, staring at the floor again.

Tim wants to throw himself in a fucking dumpster and just rot there.

"That's true," he says as evenly as he can. "That's me, though. Not you. I did something bad, but you're not bad."

"I think I am," 105 says, blinking quickly, and Tim fists his hands behind the fall of his cape.

"You're not," he says. "Not at all. It's fine if you don't understand that yet, but I still want you to know it. Okay?"

". . . okay," 105 murmurs, still staring at the floor. His hair is all in his eyes, all tangled curls that should be windswept but aren't, and those eyes are still bluer than anything and much, much too sad.

It's bad enough that Tim put this look on a kid's face, but worse because that kid's face is so undeniably Kon's face.

Not that Kon ever got to be this young.

Tim takes a moment to hate himself just a little bit more for feeling guiltier about all this just because of a physical resemblance that he deliberately designed, then just . . . deals.

105 needs him to deal.

So he's going to.

So–a name, then. A name is somewhere to start. A name that isn't "Kon" or "Conner" or anything even remotely similar, for all the obvious reasons. So . . . Jack, maybe? Or Stephen? Or . . .

No, Tim thinks, shaking his head. He can't name a kid that he cloned to be a dead person after another dead person. Or after anyone else at all, in fact. That's just–no, he's not doing that. 105 has enough on his shoulders right now, he doesn't need anything else that he might see as some kind of expectation or demand.

Especially not for his fucking name.

Tim tries to think of names without any horrible legacies or unpleasant connotations attached. It's . . . a little harder than it should be, maybe.

Just . . . names. Any names. First ones that come to mind and don't belong to a dead person.

Noah. Adam. Ben. Eli. Caleb. Emmett–

"Tobias," is what actually comes out of his mouth, and honestly it's completely random but it also sounds absolutely nothing like "Conner" and he can't think of a single person with the name who isn't a fictional character. "Does that sound like a good name?"

"Who's Tobias?" 105 asks timidly, and Tim is very, very fucking glad that he didn't pick a dead person for this.

"Nobody," he replies. "Unless you want to be, that is."

"Oh," 105 says, blinking rapidly. "I, uh–okay. I can . . . I'll be Tobias. Okay."

"Okay," Tim says. "Then hi, Tobias."

". . . hi, Tim," Tobias mumbles back, then puts a hand over his mouth and looks worried. "I–sorry, should I not call you that? Since I'm not . . ."

"You can call me Tim," Tim says, because that's the goddamn least he owes this kid. "Just, you know, not in front of anyone not in the know if I'm masked up."

Admittedly, Bruce might either fire him for this or just throw him in Arkham himself, so the chances of him masking up too many more times are probably slim to none. This might already be the last time he ever wears Robin, in fact.

That's . . . well, a consequence that he might have to deal with. Will more than likely have to deal with.

But again: Tobias needs him to deal, so he will.

"Okay," Tobias says, shifting anxiously in his seat. "Um . . . Tim? Where am I gonna . . . go? After this?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know yet," Tim admits, because he can't make him any actual promises. He should be able to, except he's still a minor for another six months and he has no real legal claim on the kid anyway, except maybe as intellectual property. So maybe he could technically . . . well, no, he'd need Bruce to enforce said IP if something legal were a concern, probably. And Bruce, again, might throw him in Arkham for this and would definitely be right to. "But I'm going to do everything I can to see you taken care of. To make sure you're not alone. Okay?"

Not that there's any damn reason for Tobias to ever trust him, but Tim is the only person the kid has right now and he has to at least try to reassure him.

". . . Superman wouldn't want me," Tobias says in a small voice, looking away. "He didn't even want Kon, and Kon was big and could do stuff and was really strong and cool and brave and–and I don't want Lex Luthor to want me, but . . . but I don't have anybody else's DNA, do I?"

"You don't," Tim confirms. "But it doesn't matter whose DNA you have, Tobias. That's not important."

"But you only even made me because you wanted Kon back," Tobias says, frowning up at him in wet-eyed distress. "You only wanted me for that. So it's . . . so it is important, right?"

Tim is fairly certain that he is the literal scum of the earth. Like . . . literally just the worst.

#tim drake #dc robin #teen titans #anonymous #rinfic #long post #wip: baby clone and all associated trauma

[violetlunette]

The Secret of the Tower

Summary: Malleus has a grandson who is curious about what his grandfather has hidden in the tall tower.

Mallow climbed the winding steps of the forbidden tower, cloaked in shadows from the sun outside.

The tiny dragon prince knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

What was his grandfather hiding within this old tower? Why did he come here every night? Was it a magic mirror that could see all? Enchanted slippers that led one to their dreams? A powerful lamp that grants wishes? A rose that counted down a kingdom’s final fate? The possibilities were endless!

Still, it wasn’t easy, even for someone like him who carried dragon blood within him. The tower was tall, reaching past the clouds. The steps were thin and close to the wall, meaning every step had to count.

‘If only I could teleport like grandfather,’ the little boy thought, huffing and puffing with every step. Flying would be nice, too. Alas, he didn’t have them. (Though he had hope for the future.)

Therefore, if young Mallow wanted to know the secret his grandfather kept closely guarded, he would have to do it the old-fashioned way—through tenacity.

Had Mallow the observation skills and knowledge, he would have noted that the stones seemed to have been repaired, mended, and even replaced in some spots.

The tower had been around for several thousand years, becoming a known sight in Briar Valley. Often, the roof, shaped like a spindle, was the first sight anyone saw while traveling. (Once, there was a threat of planes crashing into it until Mallow’s grandfather cast a spell to protect it.)

Many rumors and tales surrounded the tower, but no one knew the truth. Hence, Mallow was determined to be the first.

Finally, his efforts were rewarded, as Mallow, at long last, reached the top.

“Huff...huff! Finally! Puff…” Mallow’s face brightened even as he wheezed, delighted that it seemed his efforts would pay off.

Taking a moment to regain himself, Mallow hurried to the thick oak door decorated in gold vines and roses. When he touched it, the roses on the door momentarily glowed red. However, the boy missed them as he was already pulling the door open.

He was met with a room brightly lit by the setting sun outside the large, round windows. In the room was a collection of strange objects that reminded Mallow of something his mother would bring from her travels. There was a training sword hung on the wall with a baton.

However, the main draw was the four-poster bed in the center.

Blue curtains danced in the breeze as if to beacon the young prince forward. Mallow gulped but approached, his curiosity needing to be sated. He hesitated and swallowed once more as he stood at the end of the bed, anxious to see what he might find. Then—he pulled the curtain back.

Mallow’s breath caught in his throat, and his gaze grew.

Lying in a peaceful sleep was a young man with hair that shone like moonlight. His fair skin had a luminescent glow, making the teen appear ethereal. His expression was peaceful as if he were lost in a dream.

Mallow stumbled back in surprise but regained himself through pride.

“Hey...Hey! Who are you?” he demanded loudly. When the teen didn’t stir, Mallow became annoyed. 

Mallow Draconia was a prince! How dare this mere human ignore him and continue to sleep?

“HEY! Wake up! I asked you a question, human!” There was still no response from the sleeping beauty.

Mallow’s cheeks puffed. As a prince and one constantly adored by his family, the young child was not used to being unheeded by others, who often jumped at his word. His shoulders hunched up as his pudgy hands curled into balls. He then stomped, stomped his feet.

He bellowed, “HEY! Do you know who I am?”

He tugged on the blue sheets decorated in gold, demanding the attention he was entitled to as a prince and an adorable child.

Yet, no amount of yelling or whining made the human stir. The only movement from the other was the silver bangs that fluttered slightly in the wind and—if Mallow cared to look close enough—the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Grr…!

Mallow’s soft brow wrinkled in annoyance as tiny green flames blew out his flared nostrils, the corners of his mouth sinking lower. The short fuse of his patience was slowly meeting its end.

“Hey! If you don’t answer me, I’ll set you on fire--”

“He cannot hear you.”

Mallow jumped at the familiar voice. He turned, eyes wide.

“Gr—grandfather?!”

King Malleus stepped from the doorway, his heels softly clicking against the marble floor as he dragged his cloak behind him.

Although Mallow called him grandfather, he did not look it. Rather, he appeared to be a young man, only a touch older than the one sleeping in the center.

His bright green gaze flicked to Mallow’s golden eyes, specks of Malleus’ emerald flame in them. His face became stern.

“Mallow. What are you doing here?” The little boy, subconsciously knowing he was protected by the fact that he was the baby of the family and therefore had no fear of harm, shrugged.

“I wanted to see what was here,” he said as he trotted over. He tugged at his grandfather’s robes. “Grandfather! That human isn’t paying me any respect!” Malleus closed his eyes, sighing in exasperation.

“This is a private place, Mallow,” the king told the baby prince, ignoring the complaint.

“But I wanted to see!” Malleus made a face.

“Your curiosity doesn’t excuse everything you do, Mallow." Even so, he lifted Mallow into his arms and held his grandson close. Any sense of annoyance he had with the boy vanished and was replaced with a warmth that flowed like a stream through the old dragon. Malleus would leave any scolding to be had to his daughter, he decided. It was his right as a grandfather to do so, after all.

After shifting a bit, Mallow peeked over back at the human.

“Who is that?” he asked, desiring to know who would dare to sleep in his presence.

As he looked at the form, Malleus’ content expression fell away, replacing it with regret.

“...That was my first knight and dear friend,” he stated, closing his eyes. “His father hatched and raised me from my egg alongside my own grandmother after my parents died.

“Then, years later, he found Silver and raised him as well.”

“Silver?” Mallow interrupted with a blink. “The one grandpa’s grandpa used to tell us about?” Malleus nodded, trying to keep the somberness down as he recalled the passing of his other knight, Sebek, centuries prior.

“Yes. This is he.” Malleus motioned to the sleeping figure.

Mallow’s face lit with intrigue. The young prince recalled the tales told to him of the Silver Knight, though there weren’t many. (Most of the tales he heard were of his ancestor Sebek and the bat warrior, Lilia, whom his mother was named.)

His head tilted.

“Why is he here?” The question brought shame to Malleus, who hid it well with centuries of practice.

“There...an accident occurred,” he stated after several long minutes. “Silver managed to save myself and everyone involved, but he—he never woke up. He couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t you wake him up?” Mallow said, not believing the possibility that his grandfather couldn’t. Malleus was the most powerful magician in the world, after all. The thought of him NOT being able to do something seemed impossible.

Malleus’ eyes closed before he shook his head.

“I’ve tried,” he said, pain seeping into his voice. “We all did. Lilia, his father, spent the rest of his life trying to find a way. But unfortunately…” The king trailed off, as there were no words he could find to explain his failures to the child.

Mallow glanced back at the sleeping knight, undisturbed by time. He shifted, knowing something was wrong but not understanding what.

“How long has he been asleep?” he asked, hoping asking questions would make the yucky feeling forming go away. Malleus sighed at the endless curiosity of children.

“At least...ten thousand years now,” he said, furrowing his brow, trying to recall if that was correct. Mallow’s eyes widen.

“Wow! That’s basically forever, huh?” The smile Malleus wore was hollow.

“You have no idea.” With that, the king shifted his grandson in his arms.

“Come now,” he said softly. “Lily is wondering where you wandered off to.” Mallow squeaked as Malleus turned.

“But! Grandfather,” he whined. “What about Silver? Will he ever wake up?” The Dragon King looked his age at this question.

“…I have no idea,” he admitted honestly. He hugged Mallow tighter to him. “But I have hope that maybe one day he will.” Then, with a half-hearted glance over his shoulder, he left.

#mine #twst #twisted wonderland #twst silver #silver twst #silver vanrouge #silver twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #twst oc #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst ficlet

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Falling Apart

type: angst warning(s): mentions of childhood abuse, childhood trauma, all in all rather gloomy, get ypur tissues ready because Az is a very sad boy in this word count: 1.9k words summary: Your child gets hurt when you are away. Azriel blames himself, thinking he is a bad father and childhood memories come crashing in on him.

- all rights reserved -

“I am home,” you say into the dimly lit room, your voice low because it is already later in the evening. Unease settles into your gut because you immediately know something is off. Normally either your daughter or your mate would come running to you, happily greeting and embracing you. Not today. Today your house is silent, there are no noises, no sounds, no movement. One cound hear a needle drop.

Unease spreads out and makes your stomach churn when you toe off your boots. You hang your coat up and swallow the lump in your throat. Something must be off. Because even if they tried to surprise you, you knew you would hear some giggling from your daughter or Azriel shifting on the floor. Not today. Dead silence fills the house, dread hanging in the air.

You come to a quick halt, knees threatening to buckle and arms dropping limp to the sides of your body. Icy heat fills your chest when your gaze lands on his figure. His trembling figure. Head hanging low between his legs, hands crossed over the nape of his neck, Azriel is shuddering, his shoulders shaking with…silent sobs.

You make a beeline for him, scared and anxious about what has happened. You touch his shoulder and he shudders. You could practically feel the temperature drop at least five degrees in the room. 

There is only one thing on your mind: your daughter.

“Everly. Ever—“ Azriel gives his head a tiny shake. “She is alright. Now she is alright. I fucked up, Y/N,” Azriel says with a trembling voice, shuddering when he turns his head ever so slightly. You sit down on the couch next to him, partly relieved to hear that your daughter is fine, but what the hell has happened?

“What happened?” you ask in a clam voice, your hand moving over Azriel’s thighs, fingers softly curling around it. A pained look spreads over your mate’s face, his hand closing over the one you have placed on his thigh. Azriel tries to hold your gaze, but eventually lowers it to his lap, his chin dipping to his chest, his shoulders hunched. There is not sight of his shadows.

“She hurt herself today. She hurt herself because I wasn’t paying attention. Everly…she…she…” Azriel’s trembling voice breaks and you spot a tear fall from his eye to the floor. “She burned her hand because she reached for the pot. I just turned away from her for a second and she…”

Your hand leaving Azriel’s thigh, you curl both your arms around his neck, pulling him to your body. “Oh Azriel,” you whisper against the side of his head. “How badly did she get burned?”

“I wasn’t much, just her index finger and her thumb, but it was because of my lack attention.”

Relief only fills you shortly that your daughter didn’t get hurt too badly. The feeling is quickly eroded by anguish and empathy for your mate. Obviously he would blame himself. And of course you should always be careful when it comes to children as they could be unpredictable, you could also not avoid everything. You know that Azriel is a good father, that he loves Everly more than anything. And you also know that things like this can happen. That things like this can happen even to the best parents. 

You place a soft kiss above his ear, your hand smoothing down his arm. “It is not your fault, Azriel. Yes, of course, it is not good that she got burned, but things like this…they can happen. They do happen. No parent is perfect. You cannot protect your child from every little danger. You—“ “It was not a little danger. I left her alone with a pot of boiling water. I went to look for noodles and left her on the counter. Alone. I left her alone.”

Azriel’s posture is stiff, his muscles rigid and his skin clammy with cold sweat. You feel his pain, his anguish, his sorrow through the bond. It leaves a bitter taste at the back of your mouth, your heart squeezing. Obviously you know why he is in so pain–memories of his childhood still haunt him today. The trauma that has been caused to your mate is still poignant at times and it does something to the way he perceives himself as a father. It wrecks him. 

You cradle your mate’s head in your arms, leaning back onto the couch and pulling him with you. Azriel slumps to your chest, arms sliding around your and holding you tightly. 

“What if I become like him?” he rasps, his tears now wetting your shirt. “In moments like that I just see him standing there again. See him standing there, knowing what my step-brothers did to me and not caring a single bit. I still see the indifferent expression on his face while he told me it will heal and I should act like an Illyrian warrior and not a little baby. I still see how little he cared when my step-mother locked me into this…dungeon in her cellar. He was so neglectful…I don’t want to become like him.”

Everything stops in that very moment. Your breathing halts, your heart comes to a near stop, squeezing so hard it makes your chest ache. Anguish fills every fiber of your body, your blood boiling in your veins at how angry you got when thinking about how wrong and bad Azriel thinks of himself. How could Azriel even think that he would become like his father? Not in a million years would he ever be like him. 

“Gods, Azriel,” you exclaim and pull away from him, holding his face in your palms, “you will never be like him. Never ever. Not in a million years will you ever be like him. Everly burned herself in a moment where you maybe did not look, but that is natural and that can happen. What your father has done to you, to all his children, his in no way comparable to that.”

You features soften, gaze piercing into Azriel’s empty, dead eyes. His hands clench into fists behind your back and his throat works on a swallow. When he parts his lips, his voice is hoarse, his throat dry. “But I did not look out for her. It is my job as her father to protect her from all dangers,” Azriel stutters, his knuckles pressing into your back. You feel him tremble against you. 

Azriel’s lips pinch together and he exhales a shuddering breath. He removes his arms from around and gets up, towering over you. Dread reaches you through the bond, heavy and tangy. 

Shaking his head, Azriel releases a gloomy sigh. He clears his throat, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I still fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up at the one thing I should be good at. There are not many things that matter to me. You and Everly being save are the most important ones and I fucked up.” He folds his hands behind his neck, throwing his head back, groaning loudly. It is agonizing seeing him like that. You reach for him, his thigh, fingers brushing over him. 

“You did not. Everly burned her palm, yes, that is not amazing, but with her fae and Illyrian powers it will heal quickly. And most importantly it won’t happen again.”A

Azriel meets your gaze, a sad grimace on his face, eyes slightly widened. He looks utterly shattered, disheveled and broken. “What if it happens again?”

“It won’t—“

“I am not worthy of taking care of a child. I am not fucking worthy of being a father, Y/N. I am—“ “Shut up! You shut up now!” You voice is louder than you had expected. You sit up straighter, startling Azriel whose eyes go wide. You quickly reach for his hands, pulling him down to your again, his chest heaving with deep and quick pants. “You are the best father Everly could have hoped for. You are the best father I could have ever wanted for my children. Everly loves you. I love you for how you treat her. How you care for her. How much you protect her. Yes, she burned her hand and? It will heal and she has learned a life lesson. We won’t always be able to protect her from everything and we don’t have to. Everly has to find out things herself as well. Only then she can grow.” 

You reach your hand out, grabbing Azriel’s in both of yours. “You are doing so great as a father. You are an incredible parent. You are incredible and I couldn’t love you any more for that. I want to have more children with you because I know that I have them with you. Because I know that you will be by my side. That we will raise those children together. There is absolutely no one I would rather want as their father. No one I would rather want to spend the rest of my life with. To see my children grow up with.”

You bring his hands to your mouth, kissing his scarred knuckles. “Yes, she burned herself while you did not pay attention, but this is not your fault. Everly is a nosy and impatient child. It should not happen, of course, but it can happen. I am not blaming you and neither will she. Everly loves you more than you can you imagine. You are her hero, her entire world. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You smile at Azriel–a smile full of love, of empathy, of understanding and forgiving. 

Of course, it worries you that your little baby got hurt and you wish she could have been protected from it, but that does not mean that Azriel has to take the blame on him.

“You are…” Azriel whispers, a sob cutting through his uttering. He lifts one hand out of your hold and brushes it over his damp cheek. “What if something worse—“ “We should not dwell on what ifs. Nothing worse happened and that’s it. Of course, we have to be careful. She is so young and so adventurous, but for now…everything is good. She is fine and has tiny wounds that will heal soon. Azriel, it is all good.” You let his hand drop and bring him close to you again, pressing your forehead against his. 

“You are such a good father, please, remember that. Please, don’t always just look at the small bad things. You are brilliant as a father. I want you to know that. To remember that.”

Azriel's shoulders shake with silent sobs, his eyes squeezed shut. “I still don’t know how I deserve you, but all I can say is that I love you so much, Y/N. You are the best mate in this world. And you are the best mother Everly could have hoped for and that I could have hoped for to have at my side.”

feel free to leave some feedback💙

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tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag): @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen  @aayo-whatt

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf #azriel angst

[mppmaraudergirl]

frown a @jilymicrofics

The greenhouses are teeming with life: plants now overgrown and bathing in sunlight, bugs and beetles crawling about on every leaf or stem or petal, and students all anxious to shed their robes in enjoyment of the warm June afternoon.

James navigates his way through this unusual crowd; despite his height, he weaves easily through the groups of students, taking in their laughter and jokes, a warmth as easy to bask in as the overhead sun. It is courtesy of a folded piece of parchment located in his pocket that he can easily find who he seeks. Otherwise, he would have had to duck in and out of several greenhouses first.

His stomach coils at the sight of her, the familiar sight of his girlfriend hunched over a table, frown clearly visible as she shuffles through parchment. He half considers leaning against the nearest wall, creating a game where he sees just how long it will take Lily to notice that he’s arrived. Before he can decide whether or not to do so, she clears her throat.

“Yes, James?”

He grins, moving forward as if gravity itself is tugging him toward her, he the tides and she the glowing moon. “Thought I’d find you here.”

Lily can’t stop her mouth from twitching. “Funny, that, seeing as I told you I’d be here.”

James comes to rest next to her, but then can’t help but reach out, nudging her shoulder with his side. “Yes, but that was hours ago. I figured you’d be done by now.”

“Got distracted.”

“Get undistracted.”

“Hmm.”

“Okay. Be distracted in a different way now.”

She looks up, finally meeting his eye, and not for the first time (and certainly not the last) does he marvel at the beauty of that green, a startling bright emerald amongst the plants behind her. “A different way? Like by you?”

He grins, slipping his fingers through the loose strands of hair by her ear. “Of course not. I am not distracting in the least.”

She laughs and he returns it in earnest as she stands, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Aren’t you?”

“No.”

Lily’s laughter softens, in its place a searching gaze, the kind he thinks could see straight through him and into his soul if she wished. “Liar,” she whispers, a tease as much as an accusation, and his only reply is the wordless press of his lips to hers.

“You are a distraction,” she will tell him later, when he forgets all about his insistence otherwise, when his guard is down in the complete contentedness of being together, “and the best kind, too.”

#jily #jily fic #drabble #jily microfic #james potter #lily evans #jple #can't write for shit so figured why not!!

[hanniedream]

thinking about how seungkwan would take care of you when you're stressed and overworking yourself.

the lingering fatigue that has been building up within you is starting to feel overwhelming but you know this is the kind of exhaustion that sleep can't fix. the stress from your upcoming presentation is eating you alive and thoughts like "what if i fuck up and lose this deal?" plagues your mind even when you're asleep. you know that because seungkwan would always tell you the next morning as you ran around the house getting ready that you were talking in your sleep the previous night again — something that only happens whenever you're feeling anxious.

seungkwan watches as you drag yourself across the living room and straight to the home office and his heart aches at the sight of you. the bags under your eyes are dark and puffy, your eyes have never looked so dull and lifeless and your cheeks seem to have sunken drastically. now that he thinks about it, when was the last time you even went to bed before 3am? lately, you would still be working away when he's headed to bed. he'd see you hunched over the desk, fingers tapping away on the keyboards furiously and only pausing momentarily to tell him not to wait up for you with a quick wave of your hand while your eyes remained glued to your laptop screen whenever he would try to persuade you to go to sleep, promising him you'd be done soon.

seungkwan finds himself waking up at 3am every night, as if there was an alarm clock in his brain, to see that you still weren't in bed and he'd noticed the lights in your office filtering through the gaps of the bedroom door.

tonight was no different. seungkwan knocks on your office door and as if it was a reflex, you're about to tell him you'll be done soon but he cuts you off before you could even get the words out.

"i'm not here to stop you from working," he lifts up a bowl he's holding. "i know i'm not powerful enough to stop you anyway."

a light chuckle escapes you as he crosses the room to stand beside your desk.

"but at least make sure you're not working on an empty stomach," he places a bowl of noodles before you and a little bottle of something next to it and you look up at him with a look of confusion.

"what's this?"

"it's multi vitamins," he answers and you feel his hands coming down to massage your tense shoulders and he hesitates slightly but he finally speaks in a soft, gentle voice that was close to a whisper. "y/n, i know you're worried but you're starting to overwork yourself again."

you spin your chair around to face him as he crouches down to meet your eyes and you feel bad when you notice that he seems a little tired himself, probably from being so concerned about you.

"i know, i know," you answer with a sigh. "i'm sorry for not taking better care of myself."

he places a hand over yours that was resting on the armrest. "you don't have to apologise y/n. you've always been so driven and passionate about everything you do," a hint of smile tugs at his lips. "that's what i love so much about you."

offering him a small smile in return, you flip your hand to interlace your fingers with his.

"i also love being the one that's here to take care of you," he continues, giving your hand a light squeeze. "because i'm your rock, remember?"

and you do remember.

he has always been there to remind you that he's there to support you endlessly, but he will also be there to keep you grounded whenever you need him to. it has always been that way since he met you in college and he learned how you can get in stressful situations, like the one you're currently in, because he sees himself in you.

your eyes land on the stone sitting in the little display case next to a photo frame on your shelf, it was the first birthday gift you've received from seungkwan and at the bottom is a little note that reads "i'll always be your rock".

seungkwan moves to stand up and was about to tell you not to stay up too late but stopped and looked at you with a surprised expression when you got out of your chair as well. you stretch your arms with a yawn.

"i think my rock deserves a cuddle tonight for always taking care of me so well," you announce before shoving him towards the bedroom.

a/n: i love seungkwan and i love how he's always taking care of everyone he loves, he's just such an amazing and loving soul <3 - bibi

#seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen drabble #svt drabble #seventeen scenario #svt scenario #seventeen imagine #svt imagine #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan drabble #seungkwan scenario #seungkwan imagine #seungkwan fluff #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #svt x you #svt x reader #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader

[xhanisai]

Let's kiss quietly alone in secret, Like an old picture book we no longer read

AO3

Pairing - Adrinette

Prompt - 'Hands'

Summary -

 But little did she know that he was always watching, always worried and always so concerned for her. He knows that when Marinette gets into the zone, especially when designing or working on projects or even class president stuff, she always forgets about the state of her hands and has learned to ignore the pain for a good while.

However, this kind of mindset will only damage her hands permanently in the future and that's the last thing his talented, wonderful, amazing friend deserved after everything she's done for everyone else (especially when she's never asked for anything in return).

~(x)~

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 Every single hair on the back of his neck stood up with backhanded pain from the sight of his beloved good friend's face grimacing in agony, the girl twisting her wrists and making them crack each time she twirled the appendages. Instead of receiving at least a semblance of relief, she only seemed to have fuelled the aching fire that spread through her fingers and arms, her digits continuing to cramp and her thumbs refusing to move on their own accord. Adrien was already aware of the constant pain she was in, often having Alya on her case to rest her hands or gritting her teeth in discomfort when she thought no one was looking.  But little did she know that he was always watching, always worried and always so concerned for her. He knows that when Marinette gets into the zone, especially when designing or working on projects or even class president stuff, she always forgets about the state of her hands and has learned to ignore the pain for a good while.  However, this kind of mindset will only damage her hands permanently in the future and that's the last thing his talented, wonderful, amazing friend deserved after everything she's done for everyone else (especially when she's never asked for anything in return). He's even witnessed his acquaintances in both piano and fencing lessons learning the brutal consequences the hard way and the horrific injuries they sustained because of the lack of self-care.  He never wants Marinette to experience those kinds of things, ever.  So Adrien didn't think twice when he strode across the courtyard (with a curious Nino hot on his heels) and then gently grasped one of Marinette's sore hands with his own. All patience was thrown out of the window and the blond refused to let her run away from him or even let her go through her standardised, flustered word soup, eyeing her with tight lips and furrowed brows throughout the whole time.  "I'm sorry, but I can't bear to see you in so much pain right now. Come with me and let me help with that." He requested firmly (though he really wasn't going to take a no for an answer; her health and future were at stake here after all). Beckoning her to follow him, Adrien led Marinette to a nearby bench, paying no mind to the inquisitive Alya and Nino who tagged along and stood behind the bench when their best friends took a seat. "You've been spending hours and hours on a daily basis using your hands for all sorts of things and I assume you don't regularly do any hand stretches or exercises, correct?" Her sheepish expression was all the answer he needed and he couldn't stop the anxious sigh he let out. "Marinette...you need to learn to look after yourself properly...or at least let your friends help you out,"

"I didn't mean to...you know? I often just forget..." She looked like an adorable pouty kitten but then her hands began to throb and burn anew, her eyes now closed tight and her lips a thin line of pain. He didn't waste any more time, bringing both of her hands to him and then he began to massage the base of her wrists using the pads of his thumbs in small circles. His heart broke from the quiet whimpers and hisses of distress that escaped her mouth, her shoulders hunched tight and her lips wobbling. "It'll hurt a lot at first but then it'll feel much better, I promise," He added gently, shuffling closer towards her, hoping their proximity would soothe her nerves too (just like how her presence never fails to keep his heart light and make everything around them seem a little more colourful).  "It's fine...it's fine...you're good." Marinette managed to offer a small smile but he wasn't blind to how wet her baby blue eyes were and how rouge her face was becoming. He hoped he hadn't aggravated her soreness but it was near impossible considering that he performs these exercises on his own hands every day, practically making him a professional even if Plagg were to argue otherwise.

 "Let me know if it gets any worse and I'll try a different technique," He smiled warmly and then requested for Alya and Nino to grab some ice bags from the nurse's office (and hopefully give them some privacy too because the cheeky smiles they were trying to hide was way too obvious). "Okay, can you stretch your fingers? Wiggle your thumb?"

 When she showed some struggle trying to move her digits, Adrien began to massage the lower corners of her palms, where the base of her thumb bone was and his fingers would move up one joint at a time before moving to the next finger. He was relieved to see her shoulders loosening and the alleviation becoming more and more prominent on her features. Her lashes were fluttered shut and her perfect rosy lips were slightly parted, making his throat dry up and his heart hasten up its pace. It's not like he's never noticed that she's beautiful...but seeing her like this? So at peace and so zen because of his ministrations? It made his chest swell with an indescribable emotion and he wanted to just lean in even closer so that he could indulge himself with the sweet, warm scent of the spiced vanilla that always lingered in her pretty hair and on her cute clothes— 

 He shouldn't let himself get too distracted.

 She was putting all of her trust in him and he is determined to give her the best results possible. Yet, every delighted sigh and pleased breath she let out continued to stir his heart and make his own hands tremble. Though his hands were much larger and longer and calloused, her smaller, softer and pinpricked pair remained steady in his grip, as if they were a perfect match.

 Adrien hoped that he could do this more often.  .

 "How do you feel now?" The 'ma Princesse' went unsaid on his tongue but the mischievousness and amused twinkle in his eyes remained, his smile widening when she flexed her hands in his with awe and her lips parting in a kissable 'o'. "Is there any more pain? Or any other parts that are sore? I have plenty of ways to make them feel better." (Like keeping her hands entwined with his own for the rest of the day, until they part for home-time.)

 "This feels so much better now...you're a lifesaver, Adrien!" She was all pink bubbles and excitement, all the energy back to her tiny body where it belongs and her eyes full of glitter and life. "Thank you so much! I don't know how to repay you for this! You're literally so...so magical!" The way she breathed out her last sentence and looked at him with that...that look? It took all of Adrien's restraints to stop himself from lunging forward and finally, finally gain another kiss from Marinette Dupain-Cheng where no wax statues were involved or any cameras for a school film. To get a bite of that sweet macaron flavour and the taste of her lips branded to his own once more in a manner where he could savour it for much longer and in better spirits too.

 'I'd love a kiss on the lips or two if you want to repay me. Maybe go to that new café that had just opened across the road with me for some coffee and hold my hand forever.' Adrien almost blurted out but thankfully, he had some control over his mouth.

 "You can start by wearing your wrist braces more often and doing the hand stretches and exercises you're meant to do, Marinette. But if not, I'm more than happy to do this for you every day. Whenever you want me to." He felt his bashfulness creep up inside him and seep out, his thumbs sweetly rubbing comforting circles in her palms and before he knew it, his heart acted on its own accord. "I forgot one last thing."

 Just as Marinette was about to question what he meant, Adrien brought her hands to his mouth and his lips puckered against the inside of her wrists with soft, soft butterfly kisses. His emerald greens watched her intensely as his lips continued to trail all over her hands until they reached the tips of her fingers, letting his warm, dewy lips linger on her sweet skin. He hoped, hoped that he didn't freak her out too much, that she relished and savoured the intimate touches just as he did. That she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

 Luck was on his side today because not only did Marinette snap out of her entranced stupor, but she also took a leap of faith and loosely tangled her fingers with his, averting her brilliant blues for a second before meeting his gaze once more with courage and bravery.

 "I'd...I'd love it if you were to do this more often..." Though she stammered a little, her quiet, shy voice was easily picked up by the eager boy and he couldn't help but smile so wonderfully at her. He pressed another kiss to their entangled fingers, his face and cheeks just as red as hers throughout and the glee he felt in his tight chest was so unreal.

 "The hand massages? Or the hand kisses?" He couldn't help but tease, heartily laughing when she squealed in protest and tried to hide her face with her hands, forgetting that they were currently interlocked with his own. The force caused him to propel forward even closer, their faces a mere breath apart. Adrien couldn't register anything else that happened around them, hyper-focused on the girl before him and the way her pretty pink lips looked more appetising than ever, testing his will. Marinette peered at him under her long lashes, unable to take another breath and trapped under his worshipping gaze. Taking another dose of courage, she brought their entwined hands to her mouth and brushed his fingers with the softness of her lips, all whilst watching him with those hypnotic blue eyes of hers. Adrien could have sworn that he died right there and then and was currently residing in one of the seven heavens.

 "Both...both would be nice,"

 And he was a goner.

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.

.

~(x)~

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfics #ml fanfiction

[natasha-in-space]

Hello Mia, if this is not too much to ask, I would like to request something from you... Maybe a comfort fic from GE Saeran? I've been chasing the deadlines for my countless assignments and presentations all month to the point of overworking myself to the ground. I know I can be such an overachiever but I also know that I really have to work on this tendency of not knowing when to stop and rest.

I actually collapsed two weeks ago since I had to do presentation everyday so... I suppose my body kinda give in to the extreme fatigue. It was partly my fault for trying to stay up all night and not taking care of myself properly for the past days :')) Although, I was a bit upset and anxious since I lost 10% of my overall grade because I had to skip the last presentation of that week (the same day I collapsed and sleep the whole day to recover).

I suppose Saeran would understand and relate completely to my situation. Or maybe even scold me gently for doing that to myself when we both know that I wouldn't allow him (or Ray) to do that. Anyways, I hope you take your time and been doing well so far! Much love ❤️

"My love... I thought we agreed that you would take it easy today."

Saeran's voice is gentle and sweet, like honey, even as he lets out a small disapproving sigh at the sight of you hunched over your desk, your eyes glued onto your monitor screen. Closing the door behind him, he places a tray of freshly prepared mid-afternoon snacks at your bedside table. The room is quickly filled with the enticing aroma of still warm baked pastries and peach tea.

The rumbling coming from your stomach quickly reminds you that you haven't eaten a thing since early morning.

You feel like a child that just got caught in the act of stealing from the cookie jar. Of course you knew that you should be resting... The fact that you collapsed from exhaustion the day earlier was more than enough proof of your desperate need to let your body relax and recover. Yet, while your body was utterly worn out, your mind was far too restless for you to remain still in your bed like you were supposed to. It was far too eager to push you to make sure that you were perfect. That you didn't miss out on any progress in your wasted time of sleep. Even though, rationally, you understood that sleep was anything but wasteful.

You feel a warm hand resting itself on top of your head, starting to gently caress your hair in a way that is so relaxing, you almost want to close your eyes and fall asleep right then and there. Saeran's touch was always too soothing for your own good. It was far too easy to just forget about everything in the world and melt into his warmth. You tried to hold back on that, though, shaking your head and rubbing your tired eyes with a somewhat sleepy groan.

Wouldn't want to pass out again.

"I know, I know... I'm taking it easy, I promise. I just got to read through this part one more time to make sure it's perfect. I already lost so much time yesterday, and-"

"Y/N."

Saeran's voice becomes more determined, growing firmer, like a loving parent disciplining their child for playing outside in the cold for too long. He doesn't even need to say anything more for you to lower your head and sigh in defeat. You knew he was right, after all. What you were doing wasn't good for you. Of course, he was worried. If your roles were reversed, you would have done the same for him. In fact, that exact scenario happened more than you could count.

"...I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

Saeran hums softly, his hands now gently resting on your shoulders as he slowly and carefully starts to massage your aching muscles, easing the tension out of your tired body. His hands are so comforting that you can't help but sigh in content, leaning back into his touch. He leans down to murmur into your ear, his voice as soft as ever: "You are not being stupid, flower. You know how much I admire your hard work and dedication. There is nothing stupid about you putting your all into something. It makes me love you even more."

Gosh, does he have to praise you even now...? You almost feel like crying.

You are wondering if he will ever become truly angry or frustrated with you. Your hands are rubbing together as you gaze drifts between your work and your shaky fingers. You knew this shakiness was probably yet another proof of your body needing rest instead of even more work you were forcing yourself to go through. You tilt your head slightly in Saeran's direction, feeling his hair tickle your cheek. He smelled sweetly of peach, probably a result of him brewing that tea for you. "But...?"

"-But you also need to rest and take care if yourself for you to truly give it your all. I love seeing your eyes light up with joy when you get the results you wished for... And I love that determined and focused look on your face when you are working on something you want to do good at. I love hearing you talk to me about everything you are working on. I love seeing you enjoy yourself." He leans in to kiss your nose, which inadvertently makes you smile and giggle, even through your fatigue. He returns your smile with one of his own, before he continues, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. "But I don't love seeing you tired, anxious and upset. I was so worried for you... I wouldn't want anything like that to happen to you ever again."

Ah... He was worried, wasn't he?

You purse your lips together, feeling a small dull ache in your chest, making you quickly raise a hand to his cheek. With a slight shaky sigh, he immediately leans into your touch. He was so patient and caring with you throughout this whole ordeal... You didn’t even think that it must have scared or stressed him out to see you collapse like that. In a way, it looks like you both kept some things bottled up. It's almost funny, in a way.

But, mostly ironic.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Saeran... I should've been more careful. It must have been scary for you to see me like that..."

Saeran chuckles slightly and shakes his head. He seems both amused and touched by your apology, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at you. "This isn't about me, love. But, I'll take your words to heart. Thank you."

He takes hold of your hand that was resting on his cheek, nuzzling it, and placing a few light kisses down the side of your wrist. A display of affection that causes your heart to flutter with fondness for him.

He was far too sweet sometimes...

"I know what it's like to want to be perfect... How heavy it can feel to carry the weight of all these expectations on your shoulders. But, you're the one who taught me that I don't need to be perfect to be loved and worthy, my love. You taught me, that I am deserving of love simply for being born into this world. Nothing more. You freed me from those shackles of self-doubt I put myself in because of what I've been told my whole life. And I want to do the same for you. Whenever you feel like it's all too much, whenever it feels like you are about to be crushed under all the pressure and expectations that were put on you... Take a small moment to look up at the sky, and think of me. Think of how I'll love you in any form you take. Remember that I am always cheering for you, however far away from you I am. And that my heart is always there with you, wanting to envelop you in my tender love and care. So, treat yourself kindly. Like I would treat you."

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeran choi #choi saeran #ge saeran #saeran x reader #ge saeran x reader #i missed writing for this cutie patootie #unironically i needed this as well

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

En Guarde

Wednesday X Reader

Part 5

Y/n POV

"I'm out." You went to take off your helmet and leave when Bianca stopped you.

"You’re not bad.”

Wednesday followed up.

"She's slightly above inadequate ..then again she was learning from Xavier so it's a miracle she can even hold a sword."

Bianca stared between the two of you, stepping back after a moment and went next to Yoko.

You felt your jaw clench. You walked over to a mat and crooked a finger at Wednesday.

Her eyebrows raised as well as everyone else's in the room.

Yoko leaned over to Bianca whispering. "Is it weird to be turned on right now?"

The siren looked at her friend disturbed as the latter just shrugged continuing to watch you two as you square off.

"Uh y/n-" you cut Xavier off with a flick of your sword.

Wednesday put her helmet on.

"En guarde!" You both were a flurry of movement. Wednesday went for your feet but you were quick enough to step back, as you'd lunge she'd be just one step ahead.

It felt like an eternity before you managed to land a hit on her suit covered chest. Everyone in shock as it happened.

Wednesday remained composed getting up quickly before resetting her stance. Just as quickly she landed a hit on you. You cursed as you left yourself open when she did.

Everyone grew anxious watching as you both reset no one knowing win.

Again you both were a flurry of movement this time leaving the matt as you utilized the gym space. She had tripped you when she went for the final point but you had grabbed her in a moment of anger making her fall too.

The gym was silent sans your heavy breathing. Wednesday went to stand and help you up when Xavier had beaten her to the punch. She felt herself scowl seeing you reach for his hand as he pulled you up congratulating you on a great match. The unknown feeling stirring within her once again at the sight of you two together.

Bianca helped Wednesday and told her the same. The ravenette taking the compliment with a grain of salt as she yanked her helmet off watching Xavier begin to escort you from the gym. Bianca followed Wednesdays dark gaze squinting.

"Hey Xavier practice isn't over yet and from what I've just seen you obviously need it the most."

Everyone laughed as the artist grew red. You patted his shoulder in thanks taking off your helmet and going to leave. "And Y/n you're more than welcome to stay and be part of the team?"

You glanced at Wednesdays seeing a look of indifference on her face and shake your head.

"Thanks but no thanks I think I'll just keep burying my head in books you guys already have a really good team."

Bianca nodding not missing the look you shot Wednesday.

Unbeknownst to you the dark haired girl continued to watch as you left.

.

.

Enid POV

Wednesday wasn't back yet, Thing had said she decided to go to town to get more paper for her novel. Apparently, she'd gone through the three packs that were sitting on her desk yesterday.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Bianca?" She smiled softly.

"Hi Enid, I hope I'm not interrupting." I shook my head letting the siren in.

"Not at all what's up?" She looked around the room shaking her head.

"Normally I wouldn't do this and I'm not one for gossip but is there something going on with Wednesday and Y/n?" I felt my eyes widen.

"O M G you've seen it too?!" She nodded.

"It's kind of fishy."I giggled at the irony.

"So what should we do?"

"First we'll need concrete evidence. Wednesday Addams is not someone you can judge based off a hunch."

.

.

We watched as Xavier ran up to Y/n who was sitting under a tree reading. Our eyes then went towards the table nearby to find dark eyes glaring daggers at the two chatting away animatedly.

We watched as the pencil in Wednesdays hand broke in two.

Bianca turned to me with a raised eyebrow.

Wednesday POV

I hate seeing your eyes peer softly at him.

I hate how you smile when he calls your name running over.

I hate it how your smile drops when your eyes meet mine.

I hate it even more when Xavier goes to grab you and my feet have me across the field in seconds.

I hate how now I have to come up with an excuse as to why I'm here.

"Wednesday! Y/n!" My eyes snap over to find Enid marching right up to us.

I raise an eyebrow, unfortunately thankful that she interrupted.

"I was thinking we do a girls night before y/n switches rooms."

"And why would I do this?"

"Because I'm your best friend and I still have those pics of you in San Fransisco."

I scoff.

Obviously I was failing my priorities. I had been so distracted that I'd forgotten to get her phone and delete those photos the first time she tried to blackmail me.

Internally sighing I look to Y/n to see her already looking at me. I slightly shrug my shoulder as she looks to Enid giving her a small smile.

"Sure." Xavier looked between all of us.

"You're switching rooms y/n? You think you'll need help?" She went to respond when I cut her off.

"She'll have us to help so your services are unnecessary."

Both Y/n and Enid looked to me surprised as I kept my eyes on Xavier who began to walk off.

Enid kept staring at me lips quivering as if she wanted to smile.

"What?"

"Nothing let's go." She grabbed y/n by the hand looking to me to follow.

When we got to the room the lights were dim, there were pillows and bean bags scattered on the floor a sheet draped in front of our window and a projector directly across from it. I looked to find Thing finishing some popcorn.

"You did great!" Enid gushed to him.

I felt my eyes narrow wanting to stay vigilante Enid and Thing working together was always troublesome.

Tag list: @tiffanysunshine @awolf sworld @maria-403 @ognenniyvolk @dreifhraniquo29 @rainbow-love4ever @ghostissus

#wednesday 2022 #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wlw post

[theroseredreaper]

A Quiet Moment

Twisted Wonderland

Summary: Yuu is worried about Malleus’s recent behavior and decides to have a talk with him about it during Malleus’s next visit.

Word Count: 675 ✯ AO3 Version ✯ Fan Art

Characters: Malleus Draconia x Male! Yuu/Player

Tags: Light Angst, Minor spoilers for Twst Chapter 6, takes place after chapter 6 epilogue but before chapter 7 starts, He/Him pronouns for Yuu, can be taken as either platonic or romantic

Ever since Yuu had returned from his adventure on the Isle of Woe, Malleus had been seeking his out for his company more than all of the midnight meetings the two had shared since they first met months ago. Not that Yuu was complaining about it! His time spent with Malleus was some of his most treasured here in Twisted Wonderland, it was just…Malleus was always distracted when they spent time together now, full of anxious attachment when he sought Yuu out. And Yuu…he could see the signs. The signs of an overblot waiting to happen. And he wasn’t having any of it, if he could help it. Malleus was one of his first friends in his new home and he wasn’t going to let his friend self-destruct.

The opportunity to talk to Malleus soon presented itself when, like clockwork, Malleus appeared in the Ramshackle garden in a sparkle of green light, brows pinched as he looked about for Yuu.

“Tsunotarou!”

The pinch of his brows smoothed at the sound of Yuu’s cheerful greeting, walking over to find him sitting at their usual spot under the giant tree in the dorm’s yard.

“Child of man.”

Yuu smiled at his greeting, motioning for Malleus to sit beside him. The tension in Malleus’s shoulders was visible now as he took his seat beside Yuu, their pinkies overlapping as their hands remained just shy of touching.

“What brings you by today, Mal?”

A petulant frown was what he got in response. “Can I not wish to simply see you?”

Yuu shook his head, slotting their fingers together, stroking the back of Malleus’s hand with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it. Ever since I came back from the Isle of Woe, you’ve come by to see me every day. Sometimes up to three times a day. I know you’re too busy to be checking on me that often.”

“I am not…’checking’ on you,” Malleus scoffed, looking from the corner of his eye as if he could pretend that he hadn’t scoffed. “I am…simply more aware of the little time we have left together before the…end of the school year.”

Oh. Yuu took in the sight of Malleus refusing to meet his gaze, the hunched shoulders…and exhaled soft and slow, tugging Malleus to lay in the grass beside him. Malleus went willingly, shooting Yuu a brief look of confusion as they faced each other.

“That’s a heavy burden to be thinking of all the time, Malleus,” Yuu murmured, squeezing Malleus’s hand. “You’ll miss out on all our time together by worrying about the future all the time. Nothing is permanent, you know?”

Malleus looked away, brows pinching again, before looking back, tremulous as he met Yuu’s eyes.

“I know. And yet, I…I,” he voice turned hoarse, unable to meet Yuu’s eyes anymore, “I’ve…begun to become afraid…of losing you.”

The confession sat quiet and heavy between, poignant and earnest, and Yuu could only stare.

Stare and stare as he thought, There’s not really anything I can do about that, is there? I can’t make any promises. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to stay in the future.

Swallowing, Yuu reached up, sliding his hand up the back of Malleus’s neck and carded it into his hair, running it through his strands. Malleus’s eyes closed, leaning into the touch.

“I’ve…become afraid of losing you, too,” Yuu whispered, voice equally as wrecked, as he pressed his lips to Malleus’s forehead, closing his own eyes.

Neither knew how long they lay there, or when they had fallen asleep, entangled in each other. The only fact they knew was that time was untouchable to them, in the space of the confessions they had shared, the future a vague horror too hazy to imagine. A horror neither wanted to consider right now. In this moment, it was just them, and they were loath to be parted.

Likes and reblogs are loved and appreciated!

#twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland chapter 6 spoilers #chapter 6 spoilers #spoilers #twst spoilers #twst yuu #twst malleus #twst malleus x yuu #male! yuu #twst malleus x reader #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu

[elialys]

Peter, who sat down a while ago on one of the small chairs, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as he could, watches as Olivia goes back to her roaming, much more slowly this time. Her whole demeanor changes within a minute, as if she’s finally allowing her anger to simmer down now that Walter is out of sight. After grabbing that same, dusty doll for the third time, studying it intently for long seconds, she puts it down again. Her hand goes up to her face, next, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closed, and Peter almost feels the energy draining out of her, her shoulders slumping, hunching slightly inward. It’s as if the weight of that responsibility is crushing her all over again, without her anger to latch onto. His urge to get up and walk to her is strong, fighting against his most intrinsic instincts. He knows he can’t help, not in a way that matters, but it causes him something close to physical pain, watching her beating herself up like that without being able to give her some comfort. He remains seated instead, uncomfortably so, because there is no way in hell she will allow him to approach her right now, not as she stands. “Can I offer some unsolicited advice?” he does ask after a long minute, keeping his voice low, just in case she’s forgotten he’s here. Given her lack of reaction, she was aware of his presence. She drops her hand, which comes down to her hip as she straightens up, glancing at him. She doesn’t even bother with a spoken answer, giving him a tired shrug instead. “Get some rest,” he tells her, seriously. When she scoffs, as he knew she would, he insists. “I know you didn’t sleep any more than I did last night, so you’ve been up for almost two whole days. Whatever he’s hoping for you to see, I’m pretty sure sleep deprivation can’t be helping.” This is the longest she’s looked at him since last night, in New York, when they first got to the building. With every second she spends with her eyes locked with his, he senses her turmoil increasing, not just in the way her body has started to sway, almost imperceptibly, one of her most glaring telltales. Her face is slowly constricting, too, the look in her eyes becoming anxious. Just as Peter is about to throw caution to the wind and go to her, offer her that comfort they both know she won’t take yet needs, Olivia abruptly puts an end to their eye contact, turning her upper body away from him, her finger briefly going up to her lips.

It's a fact that I love writing body language. It's also a fact that I will probably always love writing Olivia's body language the most. And I 150% thank Anna for the way she played her, because it's magic.

#i swear her body language is imprinted on my retina and deep into my brain #i just SEE IT #bless anna torv and her understanding of how important body language is honestly #she is QUEEN #anyway here's an excerpt #half of this jacksonville chapter is peter watching olivia slowly losing her shit from a forced distance and i'm having a great time tbh #writing #excerpt

[astraea802]

On Love & Magic (Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story fic)

Spoilers for finale below

Henrietta was gone.

Kat was gone.

As the four walked back to the main part of town, Brom catching Rip up on everything that had happened the past year, Matilda and Ichabod fell into a silence, Ichabod still balancing the weight of Glory in his arms.

No longer “Absent Glory”, then.

A swirl of feelings like the autumn breeze stirred inside him. Happy for Henrietta, proud they had solved the mystery, grateful to still be alive and awake.

But Kat…

“Did you agree with her?”

Matilda looked up at Ichabod, who was gazing at her with that pathetic, puppy dog face, eyebrows furrowed, shoulders hunched. “Gonna have to get a little more specific there, Ich.”

He stared at the ground. “Kat thought I was just trying to… ‘get in her pants’.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Matilda flinched.

 “I mean, I know now she just wanted to stay alive,” he continued. “It was a pretty messed up situation.”

 “Yeah. I know.”

He cleared his throat, not sure how to read her blunt tone. “Right. Well… it’s just… it bothers me that she thought that was why I liked her.”

 “Can you blame her? I was there the first time you met, remember?” Matilda replied, eyebrow raised. “You were gone the first time she entered the room. You didn’t seriously think it was love at first sight, did you?”

A slight blush brushed his cheeks. “ I-I don’t know. I mean… Look, I’m a scientist.” He emphasized the point by adjusting his glasses. “I know there’re all kinds of biological factors and hormones that go into attraction, stuff that fades unless you build a real, loving foundation over time. But the… y’know, the physical thing didn’t even cross my mind when I saw her.” His blush deepened. “Though I will admit, the way her hair caught the light was… wow.”

Matilda smirked. “Did you know she wasn’t always blonde? She tried to go red for a bit when she was in college.” She swallowed, the smile dropping. “Like her mom.”

Ichabod gave her a wan smile. “I would have liked to see that.”

“I might be able to dig up the pictures. For a price.”

Ichabod nodded. Slowly, he continued, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “I think I was just… lonely? Trying to feel something other than sad or anxious for the first time in months? And something about her felt... gosh, I don’t know.”

“Use your words.”

He scoffed at her slightly mocking tone, but looked pensive. “When I saw her, she seemed…” He gestured vaguely with his hands. “…like, mysterious?”

Matilda gave him a dead-eyed look. “Women are not some big mystery. Even Brom knows that. We’re just as human as everyone else. Except for Verla, anyway.”

“No! No,” Ichabod said, holding up his hands. “No, that’s not it. But Kat... she intrigued me, okay? Is that so horrible? She seemed so cool and at ease, not like me.”

She scoffed. “Very true.”

“And she had this air about her. I can’t explain it, but I wanted to understand it.”

Matilda paused, eyes narrowing. “An ‘air about her’?”

“Yeah. Kind of blew me away, pun intended. It was… it feels weird saying this to you, after everything. But being around Kat felt like… magic.” He frowned. “I guess she kind of was, considering.” He sighed. “I just wanted to get to know her. Not just get in her pants – actually know her.” His shoulders fell. “I wish she’d seen that.”

Matilda’s mouth tweaked. “I get that.” She tilted her head. “You know, you are descended from a pretty powerful witch. And Henrietta said you were drawn to Sleepy Hollow.”

Ichabod shrugged. “So? I was born here. If my grandma hadn’t been so against it, I would have been here sooner. Heck, maybe it’s because she forbade it that I wanted to go so badly.”

“Forbade?”

“It’s the grammatically correct term.”

Matilda rolled her eyes, then continued. “Okay, sure. But what if there’s more to it?”

“What do you mean?”

Matilda held his gaze. “The way you described it, it sounds like you weren’t just attracted to Kat. That ‘air about her’ – I felt it too, from the moment I resurrected her. I think you may have sensed something different about Kat the first time you saw her, something people who have known her her whole life didn’t notice.”

He stilled. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… maybe the Storms blood left a mark on you after all.”

Ichabod, suddenly feeling shaky, gripped the hilt of Glory tighter. “Are-are you serious? Are you sure? Is-is there some way we can test that? Am I, like, a witch too?”

“Woah, steady.” She grabbed his shoulder. “Yes, I’m serious. No, I’m not sure. And no, you’re not a witch, you’d have known by now. I’d have known.”

Ichabod wilted a bit.

“But, yes. I think I do have a test.”

He shook his head, staring out at the trees ahead, the dead leaves on the ground. “Great. So, that’s all it was? Some weird magic sense I didn’t know I had? I don’t know if that’s better or worse. I just… I thought we had a connection. Especially when she said her mom loved astronomy, like me.”

“If it helps, she wasn’t lying. Mrs. Van Tassel really did love that stuff. I always thought she and Kat might’ve had a little witch in them too, but I could never prove it.” Matilda paused. “I did agree with Kat. At first.”

Ichabod stared at her. He’d wanted her to be honest, but to hear her say it almost made him want to curl up in shame.

“Not because I really believed it,” she added, seeing his look. “But, it was… easier. If I had to sacrifice someone else’s life to save my best friend, better it be just some shallow guy, and not someone who really cared about her. Or me. But the more I got to know you, the harder it was to justify that. And, well… you know what happened.”

He nodded. It made sense. “But you don’t think that happened with Kat? She never thought for a second I might actually care about her?”

“I wish I knew. She never admitted it to me, if she did.” She sighed, eyes looking heavy. “It took me a long time to admit it, but dying and coming back changed Kat. She wasn’t the same as she was before. She had all the memories, she didn’t start craving blood or anything, but she wasn’t fully there. We went through the motions, but the warmth was gone. I don’t know if she came back wrong, or if she just couldn’t get over her bitterness about the whole thing. Her dad. Me.”

Ichabod looked up sharply. “You?”

Matilda bit her lip. “Where do you think Baltus got the poison from?”

Ichabod shook his head “Oh god, Matilda…”

But Matilda kept talking as if she hadn’t heard him, staring at the ground with her fingers curling into her palms. “Baltus offered me a huge fee. More than I make at not-a-drugstore in a year. I told him only dose it enough to make Rip sick, that would embarrass him in front of the guests, make people less likely to vote for him, maybe even get him to pull out altogether.” Matilda clicked her tongue, letting out a mirthless chuckle. “But ‘Van Tassels are thorough’, right? Except the bastard wasn’t ‘thorough’ enough to make sure Rip drank the poison instead of his daughter.”

Ichabod could only imagine.

She unclenched her fists, shaking out her hands. “So, yeah. Kat had plenty of reason to be distant. But I thought if she just had a little more time, maybe we could work it out? Maybe I could fix it so we didn’t have to put anyone else to sleep?” She shook her head. “I should have known. We were always on borrowed time.”

Ichabod let the silence linger a moment, before saying, low, “I’m so sorry.”

Matilda finally met his gaze. “I know.” Matilda hugged her arms around herself. “The only thing that actually made her happy this whole year? Was finding out about Headless.”

“That was real?”

Matilda smiled. “That was real. Kat had stopped believing her mother’s stories a long time ago, but you? You gave that back to her.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Wasn’t so thrilled I kept it from her, but still. If it wasn’t for the sleeping ivy, Kat would have been happy to be the one to help you reunite Henrietta with her head.”

Ichabod shrugged. “Wasn’t all me. Brom was the one who broke the whole secret open.”

“My point is, if Kat hadn’t had one foot in the grave already, or if you’d come to town a year sooner… I don’t know. Maybe things would have been different. But what Kat believed? It had nothing to do with you.”

This twisted Ichabod’s heart. “Thanks. But if things had to be the way they are, I… I’m glad you, at least, believe in me.”

Matilda smirked. “Eh. You’re all right.” But it dimmed as soon as she said it. “I just really miss her.”

Without thinking, Ichabod hugged her around the shoulders. She stilled a bit, but let it happen.

In spite of their initial tension, they really were two peas in a pod – a couple of introverted loners who needed a friend.

#headless series #fanfiction #fanfic #halloween #ichabod crane #matilda bishop

[bbangsuns]

i made a promise to the moon | c.o

requested by anon: "if you are still doing requests, could I request a Carlos x Reader where the reader is stressed or anxious about events at work and Carlos comforts them and helps them relax?"

pairing: carlos oliveira x gn!reader

warnings: none i think?? the reader is just really on edge because of work. fluff, angst if you squint, carlos being the nation's best boyfriend.

authors note: this is gonna be kinda short and really bad i'm sorry </3 writers block has been beating my ass and this was the best i could come up with. i might rewrite this in the future.

taglist: @hydrngea @eaudenana

to say you were stressed was an understatement. lately, work has been piling on top of you like crazy, with meetings and mission reports coming left and right. it certainly didn't help that your boss was an asshole who didn't see the point in giving anyone a break, not even on weekends.

as you sat hunched over your desk at home, you don't hear Carlos come into the room, only noticing when he placed his hands on your shoulders. you tense for a moment before relaxing upon realizing it's Carlos and sigh, leaning into his touch as you close your eyes.

"i didn't hear you get home" you mumbled, exhaustion written all over you.

he just rubbed your shoulders and hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, letting his lips linger.

"you've been here all day, sweetheart. have you even eaten anything or taken a break?" he asked, turning your chair around to look at your face, frowning as he saw how burnt out you were.

you shook your head, giving him a sheepish smile as you played with your fingers.

"uh, no. i kinda lost track of time, but i really need to finish these reports i can't afford to waste time, Carlos." you told him, closing your eyes as you feel a headache starting to form once more as you thought about all the paperwork you still had to do.

he grumbled in response and shut your laptop, pulling you up by your arms and gave you a disapproving look. you made a move to sit back down at your desk but he just picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, walking out to the kitchen.

"Carlos, baby, please let me finish my work. I'll eat later" you begged, your stomach growling loudly as soon as you finished speaking. he laughed at the sound and at the pout on your face and shook his head, sitting you down at the kitchen table.

"no can do, darlin'. you're gonna eat, we're gonna take a bath, and then go to sleep. your brain needs to reset." he told you firmly, but his face was full of worry and it made you feel guilty, so you nodded and relaxed in the chair.

with how late it was, Carlos settled on making you a sandwich and serving it with some chips and water. your mouth started watering at the sight of the food and you eagerly took a bite as he set it down in front of you. you ate in silence for a few minutes before speaking.

"thank you, mi amor. i didn't realize how hungry i actually was." you said quietly, squeezing his hand in appreciation. if it weren't for Carlos, you don't think you would've eaten anything until every last piece of paperwork was finished and you were running on fumes.

he smiled and kissed your head, moving his lips down to your cheek where he pressed another soft kiss.

"can't have my girl passing out on me, can i?" he joked, though it was a serious concern he's been having for the last few weeks.

you snort and finish your food, standing up and placing your plate in the sink. you walk back over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

"now about that nap..." you trailed off, looking at him with a sheepish grin. he scoffed at you but the smile on his face showed the relief he felt that you were actually willing to listen to him.

"let's go, sweetheart. been dyin' to have you all to myself this entire day" he said gruffly, picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom where he helped you strip out of your daytime clothes and into your pajamas, which consisted of Carlos's shirt and your underwear.

he laid you down and climbed in next to you after changing his own clothes, wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you to lay almost completely on top of him. you sighed in content as he ran his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing against him as your eyes were already starting to feel heavy with sleep. before you drifted off, you lifted your head to peck his lips softly before laying back down.

"goodnight, i love you." you mumbled before falling asleep almost immediately after, the tension and stress washing away from your features.

he smiled and kissed the top of your head once more before closing his own eyes and falling asleep, lulled by your body heat and soft breathing, happy he was able to help you relax after such a shitty day.

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