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heniareth · 2 years

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ZevWarden Week 2022

Day 7: Seasons - Happy Indeed

Words: 2253 | Rating: General audience | Zevran x f! Tabris

WARNINGS:

some slightly suggestive but vague talk at the end

a little bit of Zevran talking about how he never expected to live this long

On the morning of his 79th birthday, Zevran wakes up to a quiet house filled with his still sleeping family, as he is known to do, and decides to take a long walk. During that walk, he reminisces and comes to one conclusion: he is living a very happy life indeed.

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

On the morning of his 79th birthday, Zevran wakes up to a quiet house filled with his still sleeping family, as he is known to do, and decides to take a long walk. His ankles protest as he walks down the stairs--and, if he's to be honest, his knees and hips do as well--but thank the Maker the stairs are short. The morning air is sweet, the sun is just coming up beyond the horizon, and the birds are singing. He grabs one of the canes next to the front door--not that he needs it so long as there are no steep inclines involved, but he likes feeling the cane's weight in his hand and the way it lends him an air of gravitas and dignity--and sets out. His walk brings him down into the Alienage of this small Antivan port city that have been home to him and his Warden for a long time now.

He turns right at their front gate, walking along their garden wall and downhill along the road. There are vines creeping all over the stone wall, their star-petaled flowers a deep blue. Zevran makes a mental note to pick some once he is back. His Warden will like them. Here and there lie the shriveled husks of peaches that have fallen onto the road last year to be dried up by the sun and washed into the spaces between the cobblestones. He deftly snaps one out with the end of his cane and lets it roll downhill in front of him.

For as early as it is, the alienage rises even earlier. The sun is just gracing the rooftops with the first of its rays when he steps through the gate. The flow of people increases as he walks on; most of the elves here work at the docks, not up on the hills. Roughly a decade ago one of the families opened a small bakery within the Alienage--something spectacularly novel as usually nobody has the coin to start such a venture nor the customers to buy bread they could make at home. But the bread is good and they carry many other, more exotic or time-intensive goods. There are a few customers already waiting in line. Zevran queues up and the father of three who is running the shop today greets him like an old regular. And Zevran supposes he is. Astala does insist on buying here as often as possible.

"How is your family?" he asks while eyeing the racks of fresh baked goods behind the man.

"Good!" The man smiles widely. "Our eldest is going to start helping out this year."

Zevran remembers the girl, a bright-eyed thing about the size of his forearm when they first met her. That had been...

"How old is she now?"

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen!" Zevran doesn't bother keeping the surprise out of his voice. "How time flies by."

"She's all grown up," the man says with a proud look towards the back of the building, from where the faint sound of voices rings out. "I saw your son the other day."

"Which one?" Zevran asks.

"Your youngest," the man answers. "There's one who's grown up well. Takes after his father."

Zevran laughs. On one hand, because Astolfo has indeed grown well and the comment makes him feel ridiculously proud. On the other, because the notion of such a man taking after him is... well.

"Ah, I can only claim half of the credit for that. The other belongs to my wife. She would be delighted if you had anything with plums, by the way."

They do, in fact, have something with plums. Or plum marmelade, to be precise. Zevran decides it is still good enough and asks for an ensaïmada for himself and one--no, two--loaves of bread for the whole house. The baker hands him the pastries and holds the bread back with a conspiratory wink.

"I will send it up later with the rest of the stuff."

"The rest of the stuff?" Zevran repeats.

"Can't tell you more than that, sorry," the man says. "Your son specified that we shouldn't say anything if you came by."

A surprise! Zevran quickly assures the man that he will do his best to be very surprised indeed. Then he asks him to pass his compliments on the baking on to his lovely wife and daughter and continues his walk. He does briefly consider sneaking into the back of the bakery to try and suss out what all this secrecy is about. But no. His children--who are adults now, some with children of their own--have planned a surprise. For him. Far be it from him to ruin it. He will keep his ever-consuming curiosity in check like the old, wizened man he is! Curiosity killed the cat and so forth.

But it has to be something baked, that is for sure. And this baked something probably consists out of many small things, if one is to go by the expression "the rest of the stuff".

He stops briefly by a well for a drink and some water on his neck. The sun is rising, and already warm. This well hadn't been there either when they'd arrived. Zevran drinks and contemplates his reflection in the water. White hair, skin that is getting more and more leathery by the day--his Warden seems to like it, and why she does will forever remain a mystery to him. He straightens his back as well as he can. Now it is his shoulders that are complaining. One simply doesn't get younger with age. But the sun is still warm while the shade is cool and his time is better served hopping from one shadow to the next than by staring at his poorly-illuminated reflection in a bucket of water. He gives it a shove and listens as it plunges down into the well.

Maker, has he grown old.

He is certainly not one to complain. In fact, if the prostitute who foretold his long lifespan as a boy had a marked grave, he would make the trip to tell her how right she was. Alas, there is no marked grave for prostitutes, nor for assassins. Except for... him. And that he of all people can hope to be the exception to the rule still makes him scratch his head after all these decades.

"Virel, we have to leave now or he will come down and find us."

... On second thought, he might not be the only assassin with hopes of a marked grave.

Zevran shakes his head at himself. That sounded much more sinister than he intended.

He has reached the market. Down a narrow and zig-zaggy path between stands and tents sporting crafts and fresh produce, he can see them. Virel is staring at a stand selling jewelry while Perinella is impatiently tugging on his arm. Both have grown so much since he wrestled them away from the Crows, and both are well on their way to growing just as old as he is now. None of them, however, have inherited his habit of waking up so early. What are they doing here?

Zevran purchases a wide straw hat and a linen shawl from a nearby stand. With the hat on his head and the shawl around his shoulders--it's well-made, but of a color he would never wear--he very casually steps closer to his two oldest.

"One second," Virel mutters, still staring at the jewelry.

Perinella throws a sharp look around and tries to pull him away yet again. "You have enough jewelry at home!"

"Will you let me be? I'm trying to decide here!" Virel straightens from where he was bent over the stand and sighs. "Besides, it's not for me."

"Most people don't have this obsession with getting their spouse something every single time they visit the market," Perinella snips.

Zevran leans forward. Virel has the three pieces of jewelry he has been looking at laid out before him: all silver, one slim earring in the shape of a sickle moon, a thin bracelet with a small semiprecious blue stone at the clasp and a simple silver band probably intended for an ankle.

"Papá does," Virel says. "And it's a nice thing to do."

"Not when he might find us any moment!" Again, Perinella casts a glance around. "And these are all way too simple anyways."

Zevran leans back again and pretends to be fascinated by the long row of braided garlic hanging in front of him.

Come to think of it, they did need more garlic.

"The others said they'd keep him home," Virel says, ignoring his sister's comment about his choices.

"They said mamá would keep him home," Perinella says. "She never wakes up before him!"

"Yes, alright, I get it!" Virel once again leans over the three pieces of jewelry. "One moment only."

"I will say 'I told you so'!" Perinella warns him, but when that doesn't get her brother to move, she huffs and storms off to Carlo, who has appeared a few stalls further down the street.

"Do you have everything?" she asks.

Carlo nods with a big smile and starts placing bags and bags of things into her hands. Perinella is momentarily distracted trying to hold the tower of groceries together, and that's when Carlo's eyes fall on him.

His eyes widen.

Braska! He's always been able to recognise him in any kind of disguise.

Zevran risks a lift to his hat and an urgent finger to his lips. Carlo's eyes snap from him to Perinella, and then he raises his own finger to his lips with a questioning look. Zevran nods emphatically.

"It's okay," he signs. "Won't ruin the surprise."

Carlo frowns.

"Our secret," Zevran signs. "Yes?"

Carlo's eyes widen again, then crinkle at the corners in a devious smile and he gives him a small but firm conspiratorial nod. Then he turns back towards Perinella and starts stacking up his own groceries as if nothing had happened.

Virel is still staring at the jewelry. Zevran quietly leans over to him.

"Take the bracelet," he says.

Virel shoots up straight and looks around himself, eyes wide in alarm. Zevran ducks out of the way behind his broad shoulders and mingles with the crowd.

His pastries in one hand and his cane in the other, Zevran leaves the Alienage and takes the scenic route back home. Despite the sun, the wind blows strong and cool from the sea and he has a splendid view over the still green fields on one hand and the blue depths of the sea on the other. Even the long, winding slope back up the hills where their house stands isn't too bad. He does it in one go, scares up a bird in the nearby bushes, who squares up and screams at him until he moves on, and then walks through a short stretch of a pine forest with soft green grass between the roots of the trees until he arrives at the bench that looks out over the city. He sees how, a good ten-minute walk from here, the door of his house opens. The person who steps outside can only be his wife, wrapped in the colorful shawl as it is. Zevran slowly continues onwards while she slowly makes her way up to him. They meet in the middle.

"Who are you and what have you done to my husband?" Astala laughs. "What is that shawl?"

"Do you not like it, my Warden?" Zevran asks, spins so she can admire him from all angles and grins all the while. "I look like you, no?"

"I was going to say." Astala holds his own, dark brown shawl out. "Change? Although it's far too hot for these things."

"My dear Fereldan wife," Zevran chuckles as he swaps the shawls and then holds the pastries up. "How about some shade and some breakfast, hmm?"

Astala pulls a bottle of apple cider out from behind her back. "You read my mind."

They sit down on the bench below the pine trees, put the bottle between each other and go to town on their pastries. Astala's very visible delight at the plum marmelade makes Zevran almost giddy. She is beautiful in the morning light. Then again, she is beautiful anywhere and at any time. Her black hair has turned grey and the wrinkles around her dark eyes make them look like they are caught in an eternal smile. This, more than anything else, tells Zevran that they have lived a good life. The archdemon might have left a scar on her face and a limp in her walk, the Blight might have eaten through her broad frame and her muscles to the point that she never recovered her full strength, but she is happy. And he is happy. So happy that he might cry.

"I have heard," he says instead, "that you were tasked with keeping me in bed this morning."

Astala shrugs cheerfully and brushes a few crumbs off her dress. "If you're sad to have missed out, don't be. Whatever I had in mind will be even better tonight."

Excitement runs through Zevran, and he sidles up closer. "You have ideas?"

"So many, my love," Astala says, voice dropping deliciously low, and kisses him. "Happy birthday, dearest husband."

Zevran caresses her cheek and doesn't stop the wide smile drawing over his face.

"Happy indeed," he murmurs and kisses her in turn.

I can't BELIEVE the challenge is already over T_T The good thing is, I still haven't read and seen everything and can thus prolong it a little bit longer. But man, this was great fun. A huge thanks to the organizers and everybody who's participated!! I've enjoyed this so much!!

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calltomuster · 3 years

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Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]

Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!

And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.

Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!

Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!

Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!

Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.

Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.

Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.

brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.

The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

#star wars #fic recs #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #commander cody #qui-gon jinn #commander rex #jedi order #sw tcw

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sanders1665 · 2 years

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Time has become a distant friend,

the fading light has me ruminating the journeys end,

cherished souvenirs of my youth,

are the memories that captured springtime's truth.

Sweet Summer is nearly over,

this body is tired from pushing the boulder,

the demeanor of my sleep seems like a prelude to death,

but her love and dreams give me strength.

Feels like I'm blending with the background,

I'm not invisible yet, I can still be found,

my sense of relevance is fading away,

but my inner child still wants to play.

Modern morality and behavior is corroding my sense of humanity,

but my liberal perspective offers reluctant amnesty,

remembering love makes the world go round,

as angels and demons cavort in the playground.

Triumphs and conquests hold my head high,

but the tragedies and sorrows make my heart heavy with a deep sigh,

trying to stay focused on the good that tomorrow could bring,

while I fortify my castle with a luscious wellspring.

Adventures can be found at a much slower pace,

my journey of life is no longer a race,

I'm taking time to appreciate the pretty in the view,

for joyful memory making has become an active pursuit.

With age comes new understandings,

that maturity has a different type of dancing,

experience and wisdom can provide clarification,

when the outside world causes consternation.

Shadows of ghosts follow behind me,

and I entertain them during midnight reveries,

murmurs of dubious deeds vaguely reverberate,

but my northern queen brought about their checkmate.

We used to write old fashioned love letters,

and we can still satiate each others pleasures,

all good love stories have chapters of pain,

for rainbows do often appear after the rain.

Observing youths vitality can be wearisome,

conflicting with the aging man I have become,

but love, passion and romance have serene rapture,

these gifts are precious in my storybook chapters.

Mirrors can be cruel if they hold my gaze,

for they reflect poor judgements of long ago days,

on this body, gravity and time are conspiring friends,

but my youthful mind still pretends.

Enigmatic moon and faraway stars saunter over my head,

as children sleep peacefully in their bed,

sometimes, soothing quiet can fall into disarray,

in solitude, I secretly pray.

Flowers of joy blossom in my blood,

with sweet aromas that remind me of the good,

and still, serendipitous moments spring out of the blue,

pushing sadness to the back of the queue.

Sunset memories shimmer beyond the horizon,

and the sunrise will always tease with fresh surprise,

friends and family come and go,

mindful of ones ebbing caught in the flow.

Troubling thoughts of a diminishing future,

as misty graveyards tease with a tombstone suitor,

I'm not ready to write my epitaph, it will be a long time before it's carved,

for this mans zest for life is still full of charge.

Sweet memories are cherished within my mind and soul,

keepsakes that are sustenance in my fruitful bowl,

life moves us forward in mysterious ways,

and love accepts us regardless of the days.

#spilled words #my poem #my post #poems and poetry #my poetry #poem #poetry #rhyme #reflection

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gifted-burnout-archive · 3 years

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Driving Home For Christmas

Word Count: 3.8K+

Author’s Note: we’re back bitches, and with new stories every day until the 25th!! and we had to start with our favourite star herself, julie molina, because of course! i loved writing this, we love brother alex, we love having last names for the fucking characters!!!

Pairings: julie x reader - brother!alex mercer x reader - willie x alex

Warnings: fluffiness!!

The Mercer children hated spending their Christmas holidays in Aspen. In fact, there wasn’t anything the siblings hated more.

The luxurious ski resort cabin certainly had charms: the hot tub on the porch, the on demand hot chocolate, the fast passes to get on the slopes ahead of the general public, and that was all before you got to the world renowned chef, Portia, that was on-call twenty four hours of the day, seven days a week, able to make whatever their hearts desired. Anyone else might have thought the resort, covered in snow and holiday decorations, like a scene from one of those Hallmark Christmas movies that are always just on in December, was the perfect winter wonderland, and the sort of place anyone would die to spend the end of their year.

But Alex and Y/N Mercer didn’t hate Aspen; they hated their passively-homophobic parents and extended family that always showed up to ruin the festive cheer. Whether it was by berating the heir to the family fortune about his boyfriend back home in California; or their consistent pestering of Alex’s younger sister Y/N about when the girl would find herself a decent, upstanding boyfriend, like she hadn’t spent her entire childhood until the last year stuck in an array of all girls’ boarding schools across the great United States.

With the pros of the cabin weighed out by the con of their family, it came to be that on Christmas Eve the brother and sister sat amongst the slow-moving traffic on some interstate between the Colorado ski lodge and home, in sunny California, already ten hours into their drive.

“I still can’t believe… Dad is going to kill us, you know?” Alex said, swaying along to the song playing softly from the beaten up car’s stereo, his knees pulls up to his chest thanks to the bags that sat in the footwell. The car was overflowing, a mixture of luggage and gifts for those waiting on the other side of the sunshine state’s border.

Whatever snow adorned the old red car roof had been melted away the closer they got to the coast, the driver more and more grateful with every slow passing mile that she had saved up to buy her own mode of transportation. She hadn’t followed in her older brother’s footsteps of taking dad up on the offer of a car: the high-tech monstrosity Alex drove around Los Angeles was the sort of car that would be shut down remotely if stolen: Y/N’s car could barely get a radio signal.

“Dad will kill me; he needs you to complete some masterplan. Wanna theorise about what private institution he’ll send me to next?” Y/N asked with a smile to her older brother, the pair sharing a laugh in the glow of red brake lights.

Their relationship had always been easy: Alex was his little sister’s best friend, and he hers. Whether that was because money led to lonely children, or because they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company beyond their sibling obligations, the pair didn’t bother to find out. They were close, and that was what mattered to them.

“He’s running out of them now, you know. How many was it before you convinced him Los Felix was the answer to all your problems?” Alex asked with a raised eyebrow and smirk, leaning an elbow on the central divider of the tiny car, avoiding the sharp edge of a ski blade to tease his sister with a knowing look. “Was it seventeen or-”

“Twenty-four… I made a point to average it out to one every four months or so. Keeps mom and dad on their toes, makes the disappointment even more apparent when I show up on the doorstep again.” Y/N cut in, correcting her brother, the blonde boy taking her free hand and squeezing it.

“At least we keep disappointing them together…” He offered as words of solace, their hands breaking apart upon the movement of traffic, red lights dimming as the cars began rolling forward at a steady pace. “Thank you, Smalls… For this whole thing.” The nickname he used so often rang in Y/N’s ears and made her smile.

Her brother meant the words, she knew it: he had pleaded with their parents before they left to stay in California, with Reggie or Julie or Luke, but the mention of his bandmates had ended the conversation and turned it into their dad reprimanding Alex for his ‘fanciful’ mindset. The drummer never stood a chance against the united front that was their parents: they knew he wanted to stay for Willie, of course he did: the two had been planning their Christmas vacation together since Halloween, dates to the ice rink at Santa Monica Mall, to the university for lectures, to the movies to catch old Christmas movies on the silver screen. Half the reason their parents had forced Aspen onto the kids once again was because Alex had found his person, and Willie found Alex, and Mr and Mrs Mercer would do a fair amount to convince the general public, themselves, and Alex that he wasn’t gay.

The other half was because Y/N was pretty sure she had found her person too.

“Don’t sweat it, Alex.” She shrugged, moving up a gear as the traffic finally began to move towards an expected speed for the freeway. “Hearing mom and dad shout at us once they sober up enough to realise we’re gone? Priceless.” She let a regular smirk rest on her lips, indicating to take the upcoming turnoff, hopeful she might hit easy driving instead of the stop and start. The sun was setting before them, the sky painted shades of yellow and orange and pink and purple into the deep blue of the encroaching night, despite the time on her car dashboard only reading 16:42. It would be gone within the next few minutes, and the driver switched on her headlights in response.

“Alexander Washington Mercer! How dare you defy me in such a way: you know better than to follow your little sister so blindly!” Alex yelled into the cramped space, impersonating their father with the gruff voice the man in question used, like he constantly had a cough in his throat he couldn’t dislodge.

“Y/N Y/M/N Mercer! I expected better from a young lady of your fine standing! How are we meant to find you a good husband if you run off with your brother like you haven’t a care in the world?” IT was Y/N’s turn to impersonate a parent: the shrill shriek of their mother, Y/N raising a hand a messing with the locket around her neck the same way their mother fiddled with her pearls when she was distressed. The two shared a look through their chuckles.

“It’s just a phase!” They said in chorus, the line their parents most often used in arguments against either of the pair. The laughter died away with the words, both letting out a soft, melancholic sighs, and falling into a comfortable silence. They were just skirting the outside of Las Vegas, Nevada, with at least another six hours of driving left by the state of the road, Y/N joining the back of another queue of cars all headed somewhere.

“Driving home for Christmas. Oh, I can't wait to see those faces, I'm driving home for Christmas, yea. Well I'm moving down that line. And it's been so long, but I will be there. I sing this song to pass the time away. Driving in my car, driving home for Christmas…” Alex turned the volume dial, letting the song play out, beginning to sway along to the radio once again, humming a harmony line over Chris Rea’s raspy lyrics.

Y/N always like that: that her big brother was so musical. She had spent so long away form him, at every other boarding school in the country, she forgot how talented Alex was sometimes. IT was only getting to see him and his band perform the year before that she really clicked to her brother’s undeniable star power, and that ability was shared amongst his friends. But it wasn’t just his talent that made Y/N happy, but that fact that she never saw her brother happier than when he was performing with his ‘other’ family.

In truth, they were hers too… One of them was why she was racing home so eagerly, why she had masterminded the entire escape for her and Alex. Neither of them would have been able to survive another minute with the monsters they unfortunately call relatives.

By the time they had passed Las Vegas and were closing in on the California border, the dashboard read 19.53. The countless games of ‘eye-spy’ and ‘would you rather’ grew old quickly, replaced for an hour by Alex reading out the pages of the closest book they could scavenge amongst the piles of presents and luggage, one of Y/N’s art textbooks. That then turned onto Alex recovering his drumsticks, tapping and singing along with the radio as Christmas song after Christmas song played.

“Smalls, what if we don’t make it?” Alex posed the question for the first time that night, and Y/N was honestly shocked it took her big brother so long to reach his usual state of worry. “What if we drove all this way and we don’t make it in time?”

“Relax, Alex, honestly… Look, we’ll get there when we get there. No-one even knows we’re coming, it’ll be fun, a surprise!” Y/N suggested, stopping herself for continuing to press down on her car horn, honking in anger at the dude who just cut in front of them. “Fucking asshole.” She muttered, looking back to her brother to be met with a face of surprise.

“How is it that I am always labelled the emotional one?” The question made Y/N smile, reaching over and patting on the blonde locks atop her brother’s head.

“Because rage isn’t emotion, it’s power.” Y/N quoted their dad again, putting on the gruff voice Alex had portrayed hours before, letting her neck roll and crack out air pockets once the words hung in the air. “With your little bandmates, it may not be true, but in this car? It most certainly is.” She reminded turning her eyes back to the road and putting the car back in gear to drive, following the car in front as the traffic began to move again.

“You know, I never thought church would be that fun! Is it always like that, or do they just ram up the wow factor for the holidays?” Reggie asked as he followed close on the footsteps of the Molina family, Luke to his right as he received glances from those surrounding him. “What?! I’m not exactly the person you’d expect to head on over to midnight mass every year, dude.” Reggie defended, Ray unlocking the front door of the house before turning around and placing a hand on the bassist’s shoulder.

“Well, we were glad to have you along with us, Reggie. Glad to have you for the holiday too, both of you, in fact.” Ray opened the statement to Luke, whose eyes darted up and were followed by a bright grin.

“Glad to be here, Mr Molina.” The guitarist responded with a dashing smile before rushing inside, his destination quite certainly the fridge, where Carlos was already searching for snacks before bed.

The Molina family had kept the tradition of midnight mass ever since Julie was little, a chance for some spiritual connection to the holiday season as well as familial. That year, with the Peters and Pattersons off on a Bahama cruise, Ray had welcomed Julie’s best friends and bandmates with open arms. The only thing that would have made it better was the Mercer kids.

It seemed to be why, while the boys all gravitated to chocolate chip cookies and warm milk before bed, Julie had idled over to the window, her eyes drifting out into the front yard, searching for someone who wasn’t going to show up.

“Mija…” Ray said softly, watching his daughter from across the room, a soft smile tracing his lips as she let out a yawn. “Mija, you should be going to sleep. Papá Noel won’t deliver his gifts if you stay awake all night staring out a window.”

“But dad…”

“I know it sucks, honey, but we’ll see them at New Years, right? And tomorrow we’ll have Flynn’s family and tía and Willie all over for food.” Ray reminded, and Julie let out a sigh, finally diverting her eyes from the window and up to her dad, his hand outstretched for her to take. She took it, and Ray lifted his daughter to her feet and into a hug. “I love you sweetie, now go get ready for bed. I have to round up your friends before they eat all the food in the house.”

With that, Julie gave up on the sliver of hop she had held for that night, shuffling up the stairs somewhat defeated. She knew it wouldn’t happen, in the back of her head she knew it wouldn’t happen, but she had really hoped Alex and Y/N would just show up, out of the blue, and surprise them all by spending Christmas back home, with them, with her. Of course, Mr and Mrs Mercer were far from nice people, far from unwealthy people: the idea of their kids spending Christmas at the Molinas was probably something they flat out refused to even think about.

It didn’t take long for Julie to get into her Christmas-themed pyjamas and brush her teeth, tying her hair into braids and tidying them back with a cap for the night: her night time routine was one she knew well, and was efficient in doing. Her makeup washed its way down the bathroom sink, her glasses perched themselves onto the slight dents the pads had carved into the sides of her nose, her blue monster slippers kept her feet warm as she shuffled back to her room and into her bed. She tried to focus on the better parts of the day: of making gingerbread houses and rehearsing Christmas songs with the guys, of putting up the final decorations on the tree in the living room while trying to avoid her father’s cries of anguish over another badly wrapped present from the other room.

But she couldn’t help but think about how much better it would have been had Alex been banging on his drumkit, how much happier he would have felt spending Christmas Eve with Y/N by her side…

The thought had Julie grabbing at her nearest pillow, squeezing it under crossed arms as she scrunched her eyes shut and willed sleep to come. At least if she slept, she wouldn’t be thinking about Alex and Y/N being trapped with their not-so-nice family in some snowed in cabin in some mid-west mountains, not consciously anyway.

tap.

A noise, one Julie excused as a creak of the house floorboards or a falling branch from the tree outside, seemed to echo in her near silent room, save the girl’s breathing.

tap.

This time, Julie’s eyes darted open, though she refused to move. Two was a coincidence, there were plenty of explanations for two almost identical sounding taps spaced apart almost perfectly.

“JULIE!” A loud whisper sounded from outside the girl’s window.

Now, that wasn’t coincidence.

The girl jumped out of bed, rushing over to her window in a blur of sequined candy cane pyjamas, muddling with the latch on her window before opening it up wide to the chill of LA winter air, her eyes darting across the grounds below to find the source of the noise. A part of her wondered if she might be dreaming, if it might have all been the saddest and happy dreams because she’d wake up any moment and the sight would be gone.

But there they stood, Alex and Y/N, in her driveway, the latter’s car parked behind them and looking like it most certainly drove for nineteen hours straight.

“Dad!” Julie called back into the house, the smile on her face brighter than any of the Christmas lights Y/N had seen on their drive through the residential district. “Dad, we have some extra guests.” She finished, her calls waking Carlos, Luke and Reggie in the process of alerting Ray, the windows of the house suddenly lighting up and the household woke for good news.

With a final grin out the window, Julie disappeared from Y/N’s sight, to no doubt meet her and Alex by the front door, and the pit in her stomach Y/N had tried to ignore for the entire car journey from Colorado seemed to only get bigger, louder, more persistent, now they had finally arrived back in California, in LA, at the Molinas. She had initially pinned the feeling to adrenaline from disoberying her parents, from packing up her car and driving almost a full day to arrive three states west of her original destination.

Looking at the house’s front porch, a muddle of Christmas gifts in both her and her brother’s hands, Y/N came to the conclusion that the pit wasn’t because of leaving Aspen: it was because of arriving in LA.

“I’m not going to ask how you made it or why you are here, but we are happy to see you all the same.” Ray’s kindly tone and words brought Y/N from her thoughts, blinking away the haze to find the door now open, Alex, Reggie and Luke in a tight embrace with presents scattered over the driveway, and Ray standing in front of her with Carlos by his side. “I would suggest one of you text your parents’ that you are safe though.” He added with a chuckle, opening his arms for Y/N to rush into, the pair embracing in a tight hug.

“Nice to be home, Mr Molina.” She replied with a smile as the pair broke apart, only for Alex to take the next slot of hugging Julie’s literal, and the four other teens’ figurative, dad.

“I made up the spare room just in case, you know. Julie’s request.” Ray added, gesturing with a thumb back to the front door, forcing Y/N’s eyes to follow.

She was so beautiful, every time Y/N saw Julie Molina her breath escaped her body, her limbs became heavy, her mind fogged: her heart began beating at a pace too fast for her body and her lips lost any real words.

“I thought you’d be in Aspen until the day after Boxing Day.” Julie said with a shy smile, the five guys in the front yard glancing amongst themselves before Carlos cleared his throat.

“I think we should put the presents under the tree!” The ten year old declared, scooping up some of Alex’s dropped gifts and marching inside, prompting Ray and Luke to do the same. Alex rans back to the car, retrieving the last straggler gifts from the car’s back seat while Reggie relieved Y/N of the stacks of presents in her own hands, save one. The two teens shared a smile, Reggie going the extra mile to pass on a wink of good luck to the younger Mercer before the bassist and drummer both disappeared into the house, leaving Julie and Y/N alone.

“I uh, I made a decision… A decision to kidnap my brother and drive a day across country.” Y/N managed to get the words out without too much difficulty, trying to get over the cotton mouth she was experiencing. “Because I didn’t want to spend the holidays without the people I love most.” She added, finally reconnecting her leg movements to her brain and walking across the driveway to meet Julie at the foot of the porch steps.

“Without the people you love most?” Julie questioned, taking a step closer, the girls standing toe to toe, Julie looking up at Y/N with doe eyes that could melt diamonds.

“Without the girl I love most.” Y/N corrected herself, tucking the small gift box she held into her back pocket. The words were seemingly sufficient enough in hello, as Julie launched herself onto her girlfriend, their lips crashing together in sweet harmony for the first time in weeks, thanks to the Mercer parents.

Y/N’s hands cupped Julie’s face as they shared in the sweet, intimate moment, Julie’s hands pulling Y/N closer by her t-shirt. Their lips colliding was the action required to dissipate that pit in Y/N’s stomach completely, her senses in overdrive finally being close to her girlfriend again. The smell of Julie’s perfume, the minty taste of toothpaste still on her lips, her glasses brushing against Y/N’s cheek. For Julie, it was much the same experience: the kiss made her head spin, overcome by the smell of Y/N’s car air freshener and the taste of red vines on her lips.

The pair broke apart after a few moments, their foreheads pressing together as peaceful silence washed over them, the cool breeze counteracted by the red heat that had risen to both girls’ cheeks.

“I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with anyone else.” Y/N breathed out softly, one hand taking Julie’s in hers, the other retrieving the gift from her back pocket. “Mostly because I missed you like crazy, partly because I wanted to give you this.” She explained, the girl before her grinning and taking the gift box offered with bubbling excitement.

“Can I open it now?” Julie asked, and Y/N glanced at the watch on her wrist.

“I mean, it’s technically Christmas so…” Y/N giggled when Julie let out a shout of joy, pulling off the ribbon holding the box shut and shimmy-ing the lid off, to reveal a small potion-looking bottle amongst tissue paper. Julie lifted it out of the box, a small key glinting in the porch light within the bottled, caught in mid-air by invisible strings withing the decorative gift.

“It’s so beautiful… What is it?” Julie asked, pure curiosity in her words as she looked at the bottle in wonder. In response, Y/N pulled her locket out from beneath her shirt, gesturing to a small keyhole on the front Julie had never noticed adorning one of the girl’s most essential items before.

“That, Miss Molina.” Y/N started, grinning from ear to ear, exuding a shaky confidence that seemed like it might falter at any second. “That is the key to my heart.”

“Y/N…”

“I love you Julie.” They had never said it so directly before, ever. They always skirted round the actual words, always knew what the other meant without need for clarification. But under the porch light of the Molina residence, unaware of Alex, the guys, Ray and Carlos watching from the living room window, after having driven through so much traffic just to try and get to her on time for Christmas, and with Julie standing there in her festive pyjamas and blue fuzzy slippers and looking at her like that, Y/N had never felt more sure of something in her life.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Julie promised, pulling her girlfriend close again, the kiss shared this time chaste, though no less sweet.

“Merry Christmas, Molina.”

“Merry Christmas, Mercer.”

Tags (some people I think might like this festive nonsense): @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf @only-here-for-jatp @jatpfan99 @n0wornever @bookdealer5

Twelve Days Of Christmas: 2/12 will be released in 24 hours! Who will our story focus on? Can you guess? I’ll give you a hint: we’ll be going back to 1990s...

#abby's twelve days of christmas #julie molina x reader #julie x reader #brother!alex x reader #julie and the phantoms #willex #jatp #alex mercer #reggie peters #luke patterson #jatp fanfic #fluff

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years

Note

Fic prompt: M!Hawke/Anders, “I should have told you a long time ago.”

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: m!Handers

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Anders

Tags: end of act 2, mild angst, mostly fluff, declarations of love

Rating: Mature

For the first time in nearly six years, when Hawke gets to Darktown the light outside Anders’ clinic is out. There’s no queue spilling out onto the landing, and instead the earthen floor is eerily empty as the setting sun spills in bolts of pink and yellow silk across the dust. Hawke doesn’t make the decision to start running consciously, but he climbs the steps to the clinic in a heartbeat, and throws the thin wooden doors open in a crashing rattle that startles a pair of pigeons out of the rafters by the wall and into the pink sky that squeezes between the cliffs of Kirkwall.

Inside, the clinic is dark, stretchers empty and counters clear of everything - there are no rolled bandages, or brewed potions, not even clean basins and flasks for the next day’s work. Hawke can feel his heart sitting heavily on the back of his tongue as he steps into the velvet dark and breathes in the smell of soap and cotton and mildew. “ANDERS!”

His voice bellows against the wooden rafters, and Hawke really can’t find it in himself to care. He keeps thinking about coming back from the Deep Roads and finding Bethany gone. He keeps thinking about coming home to lilies and a vase and no mother in the parlour. He keeps thinking about Lothering, and the smouldering ruin blackening the horizon to greet him when he came back from the hunt.

Hawke strides forward through the cots, pushing the rickety wooden structures aside too hard, so they crash into each other, and stares wildly into the dark. “ANDERS!”

“I have neighbours, you know.” Anders’ voice is quiet and exhausted and Hawke doesn’t care. He turns to see the mage standing in the doorway, a bag full of green leafy roots slung over his shoulder, and crosses the space in three long loping strides that feel like they take a lifetime. And then he’s wrapping his arms around Anders’ too-thin body, crushing him close as he buries his face into his shoulder and breathes in the familiar scent of honey-sweet elfroot and sweat.

“Maker, I thought -” Hawke manages, when his heart has approached a pace he thinks he can survive. He pulls back to see Anders frowning at him, his long sharp face cast in shadow by the dark belly of his clinic. “What - why is the lantern out?”

Anders’ expression darkens, and he pulls himself roughly out of Hawke’s arms, walking into the clinic and lighting a candle with an impatient flick of his wrist. “Why do you think, Garrett? Would you trust me with your child, such as I am?” Anders looks up, and in the candlelight his face is gaunt and hollow, pressed with deep purple bruises of sleeplessness beneath his brown eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

Hawke’s chest lurches, and he turns back toward Anders, feeling like a mabari on a leash. “Anders -”

Anders laughs once, bitterly, and raises a hand in a swift gesture as he dumps the bag of roots onto the cot. “Don’t. Just, don’t. If I wanted hollow platitudes I’d go to the Chantry.”

Hawke bites his tongue, and watches as Anders unpacks the bag: elfroot, mostly, with a few spiky silver branches of Spindleweed. Behind them, in the Undercity, there’s the shrieking sound of a scream, and no way to tell whether it’s in jest or honest fright. With a feeling like falling, Hawke presses on. “What’s going on?”

Anders shakes his head, pursing his lips as he begins to slice the elfroot with quick, practiced motions in a series of soft thumps. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving.”

All at once, Hawke is weightless. He stares, as if the sight of this man is the only thing keeping his feet anchored to the earth. “What?” If his voice sounds strained, Anders doesn’t seem to notice, mouth pressing into a thin line as he chops the elfroot faster.

“I’m leaving. I’m taking myself out of the equation. I almost -” Anders’ voice gets louder, and his hand pauses in the chopping before resuming with new vigour as his shoulders hunch. “I will not let myself hurt anyone else. I won’t. So, I’m going.”

“What about the underground?” Hawke manages, pushing the words like sandpaper over his dry tongue.

Anders barks a laugh that rings against the clinic’s rafters. In the corner, by the door, there’s a sudden flurry of movement as a rat disappears into the wall. “It’s over. They found our way in. Everyone involved is dead or -” Anders’ voice breaks, and he ducks his head, hair slipping out of his loose ponytail in great chunks as he glares at the elfroot he’s chopping. “Or worse.” He looks up then, and it’s hard to tell in the dark and glimmer of the candlelight, but Hawke thinks his eyes are shining.

From outside the clinic, through the broken walls of Darktown, there’s the ringing crash of the sea. Anders looks at Hawke, and the space between them feels as vast as an ocean. “There’s nothing for me here, Garrett. I should have left a long time ago.”

Hawke feels the words sink into his chest like a hand grabbing his heart and twisting. He moves forward, setting his fingers on Anders’ thin wrists. Anders stops chopping, and looks up at him. This close, Hawke can see the dark track of tears on his cheeks. In the shadows beyond the candlelight, Anders’ stubble is almost silver. Hawke wants that, suddenly, fiercely: wants to live with this man long enough to see him go grey.

The smell of elfroot is thick and sweet between them as honey or molasses, the dark green leaves going darker where they bleed into the chopping board. The candle flame jumps and flickers in the wind that rushes through the buried streets. Hawke’s fingers tighten around Anders’ wrists. “That’s not true.” The words are a whisper, and Hawke has to swallow past the lump of his heart in his throat before he can continue, feeling Anders’ attention on him stretched thin as spider silk, liable to break with the wrong breath. “It’s not true that there’s nothing for you here. I’m here.”

For a second, Hawke thinks Anders believes him. But then his expression crumbles into a mask of impassivity, and he pulls back, turning away from him and walking toward the sink in the wall. The crash of water falling into the basin is loud as a thunderclap in the empty clinic. Hawke stands frozen over the butchered elfroot, feeling as if his feet have been rooted to the ground. He glances down to check that they haven’t, and looks up in time to see Anders’ drying his hands on a rag and lifting his chin.

“Your friendship has meant a lot to me, Garrett, truly, but -”

Anders’ voice is distant, almost cold, and that would sting more if Hawke wasn’t so distracted by the fact that he hadn’t apparently heard what he was saying.

“No, Anders, I’m in love with you.”

Never let it be said that Garrett Hawke was a man who thought before he spoke. Anders had frozen like a halla in a hunter’s sights, and was staring at him with wide eyes and an odd kind of vulnerability that made him look like a man in his late 20s, not his mid 40s. Hawke soldiered on, walking around the table and crossing the clinic to stand in front of Anders in the dark. He looks into those clever brown eyes, almost black in the shadow, and takes a deep breath.

“I should have told you a long time ago. I love you. I love everything you do. I love your laugh, and that little scar on your chin. I love the perpetual stubble, and the greys in your hair. I love the holes in your clothes and the wrinkles at the corners of your eyes. I love your freckles, and your hands, and the way you look like Andraste herself in the middle of a fight, burning brighter than any star I’ve ever seen. I love your terrible sense of humour and your worse poker face. I love your obsession with cats and I love how much you care about everyone around you with every ounce of everything you arw. I love you, and I love Justice, and I love you and Justice, and I don’t want you to leave. Please, Anders. Don’t leave me.”

Behind them, through the broken walls of darktown, the silver moon rises over the Waking Sea. Blue light flickers over Anders’ cheek. And then he’s moving, and his long, calloused, crooked hands are grabbing Hawke’s face, and he’s bending and kissing him like it’s the only way to breathe, and Hawke has a moment to register the fact that the man even tastes like elfroot, before he’s wrapping his arms around Anders’ chest and pressing him close, hard, licking a broad stripe into Anders’ hot mouth and feeling his knees go weak at the moan that elicits as long fingers push into his hair and scratch against the back of his head. The world spins, and Hawke feels for the first time in a long time as if he’s finally done something right. Then Anders is pulling back, laughing, pressing his forehead against Hawke’s, and his long nose is hard against Hawke’s cheek and cold and wet with tears, and his laughter is breathless and shivering, and Hawke holds him tighter because he doesn’t want him to cry but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Anders presses another kiss to his lips, and Hawke follows him when he moves away, breath tickling his chin. “You smell like a fucking mabari.”

Laughter rises in Hawke’s chest like a firework, and he leans back and picks Anders easily up off the ground, spinning him around as he yelps and then folds into Hawke’s embrace with a laugh and a sigh, resting his arms on Hawke’s shoulders, hands linked loosely behind his neck. Hawke puts him down, but doesn’t let him go, still seized by the irrational notion that if he does this strange, flawed, brave, beautiful man will disappear from his life like mist at sunrise. So instead he squeezes him closer, and kisses his sharp, stubbled jaw, before pressing a series of kisses up his cheek and against his ear as Anders snorts and makes no effort to pull away.

With one arm braced around Anders’ waist, Hawke moves his other hand to cup his sharp chin, pulling his face down to look at him. “Don’t leave.” Hawke’s voice is rough and low with the demand, and Anders’ eyes skate over his brow and nose and chin, before fluttering shut as he smiles.

“Alright.” Anders opens his eyes, and looks at Hawke with something terrifyingly close to wonder. Hawke’s arm tightens around his waist, and Anders’ mouth quirks upward in a grin. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

Hawke ducks forward, and kisses the smile from his lips.

The candle goes out.

#dadwc #my fic #handers #hawke #anders #da2 #hollyand-writes #hollyand writes

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buckyjamess-archive · 4 years

Note

Okay, how about honeymoon smut with our boy Steve Rogers?🥰😘

ma'am steve rogers doesn't fondue-- he's an innocent soul. but yes, absolutly! please pretend cap never feel in love with peggy. This turned out to be longer than expected. 🤧 18+

honeymoon sex with steve

After being in a coma for decades and waking up in a shit show called the avengers

steve met you in between the chaos he'd been put in

It's the moment he laid eyes on you and never looked at another woman again

never in a million years did Steve Rogers thought he'd fall in love with someone

Never in a million years did Steve Rogers think the feeling we're completly mutual

you're his first in many ways

first date

first kiss

first time

first girlfriend

first ever love

years pass by and your relationship had never been this good but something was..missing?

it was Tony who started it

"Steve, I'm telling you, marriage is the way to go."

followed up by Nat, who not to Steve's surprise, worked along with Tony.

Maybe they were right; steve knew you were the one and maybe marriage would spice things up again?

Like when the two off you moved from the compound to your own little apartment

So he asks you, out of the blue, unprepared but oh so Steve like

you say yes, ofcourse.

It's been a little girls dream after all

Tony 'I'm a billionare' stark pays everything cause the first avengers wedding?

The fact your Tony his favorite works in your favor to

Nat goes out with you to find that perfect dress

clint, a married man. Sam, his new best friend & bucky, his old best friend lend a hand finding a suit for steve

It's nothing big, just the avengers and some normal friends

you're Mr. and Mrs. Rogers

Tony us the one to kick your asses in a helicopter as soon as both of you make it back to the compound

Bagage pushed into your hands with destination unkown

you've seen a lot of places throughout your avengers career but you have to give it to Tony for picking the best honeymoon spot

you're tired or even beyond that when you arrive

Bagage is thrown into a corner

Both you and Steve crash landing on the bed

Both drifting off within seconds

It's the next morning that you wake up to a hand running circles up and down your spine, sending shivers down your spine

A "goodmorning" is exchanged quickly before the both of you end up in a lazy, early morning make out session

something the both of you have done many, many times before

But it hits different this time, as if a new flame as been ignited

Clothes, still from the previous day, are discarded

tossed to all corners of the room

breath hitching as Steve is the one to leave kisses down your body, disappearing under the thin blanket

he's done it so many times before and each time you're taken back

the man is good with his mouth & fingers

Embarrassingly fast he has worked your to your first orgasm

Crawling back up, hovering above you, he gives a small smile and captures your lips in a hungry, passionate kiss

Hands roaming bodies

Breaking free from each other to catch your breath

there isn't much talking, it's moans; groans and an occasional 'God' thrown in

Steve's always gentle, to scared and still not sure of his own powers

Though you've told him you could manage a couple of times, he still refuses to go rough

Steve will look at you, always asking if it's okay or if you're ready

A simple nod or a whispered yes was enough for him

tender, slow, carefull

You can't imagine he can go any deeper than he already is

his pace is slow and steady

his tip brushing against that special spot

Your foreheads pressed to one and other

but when steve grabs the back of you knee and without effort raises it over his hip

He does go deeper, hitting a spot you'd never felt before

The twist of your face and the soft moan leaving your lips let's him know you like this and the foot digging in his spine let's him know you can take more

It's his queue to go a bit faster, rougher

and rough he goes

It's relentless how he thrusts in and out of you

Fast but not to fast

And rougher than ever

the sound of skin slapping against skin and combined moans filling the room

It knocks the air out of your lungs and your not able to form a decent sentence let alone say his name

it doesn't take long before the familiar feeling build up in your body

You're clenching your walls around him, earning a low groan

His hand finds a way between your bodies

Rubbing tight circles on your clit

Working you to your orgasm within seconds

Out of breath, seeing stars and completly off this earth

Steve kisses you passionately and slows his pace, letting you ride out your high

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kiss him back with a small smile on your lips when your land back on earth

Steve picks up his pace but your lip stay connected dancing around in sloppy, messy kisses

The tremble of his arm next to you and his thrusts getting sloppier meant he was on the edge to

All it takes is you clenching your walls around him once again

Spilling his load in you; He's a groaning mess

His face buried deep in your neck

you both stay in that position, catching your breath

Your hand running up and down Steve's back while he litters your collarbone and neck with butterfly kisses

the empty feeling he leaves you in when he pulls out is almost painful

Steve presses his lips to yours once again & kisses your forehead before he gets out of bed

you watch as he moves around the room, watching him like a prey

you hear water running in the bathroom and the sound if Steve's bare feet against the tiles before he pops up in the bedroom again

he doesn't say a single word as he walks over to your side of the bed and extends his hand

"Please join me in this bath, Mrs Rogers."

You giggle softly, taking his hand and get out of bed

"I will Mr. Rogers."

Steve's got stamina, so this is just the beginning of the day..Mrs. Rogers

#Steve where you at? 👁👄👁#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers x you #marvel #captain America x reader #Chris evans x reader #smut #*mine

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tim-burton-bitch · 3 years

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Tw: pre-romantic prinxiety, slight near-panic attack mentions, mentions of storms, descriptions of crushing, mentions of deep sea swimming, mentions of lack of escape and difficulty breathing, semi-shitty writing, I think cursing this has been sitting in google for a while I wrote this back in like early November at 3 am let me know if there's any others minor spoilers for FWSA

This was written the same night as this one and takes place after technically it's meant to take place shortly after the 2020 election was called this one is just fluff despite all the trigger warnings it's just an idea of the minor similarities yet differences between Roman and Remus' rooms like how it would feel to be in them and I had to write it out and the original idea had come from think of Virgil going in their rooms and describing how they made him feel so I ended up writing it as prinxiety and I like how the descriptions turned out this follows the same headcanons as the previous one shot added on is Roman is also an insomniac sometimes he has a lot of ideas sometimes he keeps working having gotten absorbed into his work sometimes he's overwhelmed with emotions inspiration or just plain can't sleep

Word count: 1,708 words

Virgil sighed, he couldn't sleep again. Why? He didn't know, sometimes it was Remy being a petty bitch sometimes because his anxiety was running high. Some nights he just... COULDN'T. This was one of those nights.

He had been scrolling through tumblr for a surpls of hours, it was nearing 5am, groaning Virgil decided to head downstairs and get some coffee. No point trying to sleep if it just wasn't gonna happen.

He got up slipping on his hoodie over the My Chemical Romance shirt and sweatpants he was trying to sleep in. Grabbing his phone he slipped out the door and into the hall.

He would have gone and asked Roman if he wanted to watch Disney or something had he known for sure Roman was awake tonight. As he snuck down the hall he noticed Roman's door was slightly ajar, a slight breeze blew from the crack in the door. This would not be the first time Virgil had been in Roman's room. Nor the first time he found out Roman's room could be altered to what Roman wished, imagination and all that. In fact being honest he hadn't been surprised at all when he found out, because Remus' room also held that ability. What had surprised Virgil was not the fact it was altered but insteadd what it had been altered to.

The first time he had found out for sure Roman's room could change too it had been late at night, and he had found Roman in the middle of a feild beneath stormclouds watching a lightning storm above him. Virgil had always found lightning storms relaxing. So long as the lightning was far off. It had never struck him as something that the fanciful prince would also find a peace and serenity in storms. And yet that had been what Virgil found, the prince laying on his back in the center of a feild watching the lightning storm. Explaining when he noticed Virgil come in (and asked him to shut the door) that it was peaceful in its own right and he enjoyed changing his room when he was overwhelmed, sometimes with ideas sometimes emotionally.

Feeling overwhelmed was something new to the prince to admit and right now only Virgil knew his secret. They helped each other when they felt overwhelmed or broke down ever since the day Janus had shared his name and Roman broke down to Virgil.

Virgil stepped up to the door enjoying both Roman's company and Roman's rooms ability, as well as usually finding a common scene they both found relaxing, he was curious to discover what the room was tonight.

Roman did not disapoint

Virgil LOVED space. There was always something about the vast mystery that was space. Calm an peaceful.... He and Logan could often be found talking about space and the night sky. Logan would let Virgil into his room to use his telescope whenever Virgil wished.

Tonight, Roman's room was breathtaking. Roman lay in the center of a greeen meadow staring up into a stary night sky. The green seemed to go on forever and technically, it did.

Virgil stepped into the meadow far closer to a pale blue in the moonlight. He quietly shut the door behind him and walked over the the man who lay alone in the center of the grassy meadow, watching the sky slowly move.

"Hey starry-eyes, room for one more?" Virgil asked as he sat down beside the older sides head.

Roman let out a chuckle eyes focusing on the emo now leaning over him, "Always is room for you, so what do you think?"

"The night sky? Seriously? You're really here asking ME if I like this view?"

Roman smirked sitting up part way resting on one elbow, "I asked if you liked the scenery not the view. You're looking at ME right now~" he sing-songed, causing the other to blush.

"Oh shut up you KNOW what I meant!" Virgil cried out shoving the prince to the side as Roman laughed. They were both quiet for a moment just enjoying the serenity of the meadow and company of one another. A few minutes had passed and a breeze blew when Virgil hummed musingly, "I don't think I can ever get tired of coming into your room. I love it here."

Roman looked over having long ago laid back down. He watched as Virgil joined him in laying on his back. He turned back to the sky above the two and hummed an agreement, "I certainly love my room as well. Is it just that you like the rooms shift ability? Because if I'm not mistaken mine isn't the only room which can. Remus' room and The Imagination can as well..." Roman trailed off turning his head to look at the calm, anxious trait laying beside him.

Virgil let out a lighthearted laugh. "No, definitely not. I've been in Remus' room and yours is just... different. The way it feels is... nice."

Roman was still staring at him now quizzically and Virgil turned to look back at him, "How is that? How does my room feel any different than The Imagination or Remus'?"

Virgil looked back at the stars as he pondered the question. "It's... Kinda hard to explain.... See The Imagination doesn't feel like anything really, there unless with someone doing something it feels like any other room so that one's easy. But to describe Remus and your rooms? I'm not entirely sure how..." Virgil glanced at Roman before looking up once more.

Roman was thinking on Virgil's answer in the silence that had proceeded, "Remus' room..." Roman looked over as Virgil began to speak. "Walking into Remus' room is like swimming under water deep in the ocean. You feel a weight suddenly pressing down on you. There's no where to go no way to escape. It's the end, you're running out of air and you know you'll never resurface in time. But you try to anyways knowing it's pointless. Yet you also feel weightless... the way water can make you. Like you mean nothing. Weigh nothing. About to be swept away. It causes you to panic you just. Can't. Breathe."

Virgil's hands tightened into fists as he explained, his chest tightening just at the thought of Remus' room. "I hate it in there. I can never breathe." Roman nodded understanding. When Virgil didn't continue for a moment he thought that was all. That his room held feeling unlike The Imagination, and didn't feel as awful as Remus'.

Virgil's hands relaxed he needed to calm down which was easier here than anywhere else in the mindscape. "Your room..." Roman looked over at Virgil again noting he had more to say, "Your room is the opposite. You feel light... calm.. content and happy."

Roman looked at Virgil with interest, he never really particularly thought so. Virgil continued thoughtfully, "Stepping into your room you suddenly feel like anything is possible. Like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and you can fly. You feel like you're about to float away and yet..." His hands closed around the grass beneath him, "You feel grounded. Safe and secure. Whatever mess is outside the room is exactly that... outside. While here it can't bother you. It can't do anything to you. It's easier to calm down in here because of that. It's like... the room itself holds your care and compassion. Not to mention your passion. When it's a STORM it goes as all out as you do."

Virgil smirked, "It feels like stepping into your arms. Safe, warm, welcome...." He turned his head to meet the prince's eyes.

Roman was speechless. He was touched Virgil felt safe and welcome with him. In fact as their eyes met he was beyond speechless.

The stars reflected in the eyes of the man who lay beside him. Virgil was still smirking the shadow beneath his eyes a bright purple, he took Roman's breath away, "Coming in here, is like being able to breathe for the first time. You didn't even realize you hadn't been breathing till you come in. Just like with you."

Roman didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss the emo right beside him caution be damned. But he knew better. Virgil was sweet with the words but they were friendly and not to be taken as anything more.

Besides as romantic as this was and as many fantasies of a first kiss ran through his head in that moment. He wouldn't, consent meant everything to Virgil and Roman wanted to be sure if it ever did happen, he was entirely comfortable with it. He wanted verbal confirmation.

This was romantic and would make for a great first kiss with non-verbal consent. But he wanted Virgil to KNOW he understood the man's boundaries. He wanted the first kiss to be asking permission and after either a direct nod of confirmation or a verbal queue. So Virgil knew Roman would never do anything he was uncomfortable with and he would always feel safe.

So he just nodded as they stared at one another in the moonlight. Each longing to lean in and kiss the other. One afraid of what might happen the other wishing for another scenario where he could directly ask without it sounding out of place.

They chose instead to just enjoy the rest of the night, together.

Eventually they must both have fallen asleep as the next thing they remember there was knock on Roman's door.

"Hey Kiddo, I'm about to go make pancakes, usually you're already up by now so I wanted to be sure you were alright. Also... have you seen Virgil?"

Patton's voice rang out breaking the silence. The two were now laying on the hardwood floor of Roman's room. "Yeah we're fine we were just hanging out last night!" Roman called out.

"Alright kiddos, well breakfast will be ready soon see you then," Patton then walked off leaving the two to wake up properly while he finished cooking breakfast.

The two smiled at one another memory of the shared moment fresh in both their heads as they stretched. Virgil leaving to go get changed. And they both went about their day.

#prinxiety #tss roman #tss patton #tss virgil #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides roman #sanders sides patton #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #sanders sides #my writing #my oneshot

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thcdarlingboy · 2 years

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starter for @madderbythesecond !! — Mac & Adamaris (Addy) —

Mac was looking forward to having another roommate in the house. While he loved Bozer, with the two of them the place sometimes ended up more like a bachelor pad. Maybe having Addy there would encourage them to clean up a bit more. As logical and level-headed as Mac was, sometimes the two guys had a tendency to get into a bit of trouble. Addy might keep them a bit more tamed. Though he also hoped she was prepared.

Bozer was cooking up his famous pastrami for their first dinner together, while Mac kept eye on the door. The instant he saw Addy pull up he swung open the door and walked out to greet her. “Hey! Welcome to our humble abode. Need any help with things?”

#mac: twisted steel and sex appeal #mac x adamaris #madderbythesecond #queue the stars beyond the blue

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goyurim · 3 years

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I was tagged by @its-chelisey-stuff @koreandragon @leedongsik @gimme-a-chocolate @what-breaks-my-heart and @wullu woah woah wooahh slow down there people i get i’m famous but one at a time please 🤚🏽

1. Why did you choose your url?

do i need to go off on a rant about how much i’m obsessed with this lil sunflower, the literal sun, i revolve around him everyday, he gives me light, the brightest star in my universe, or are y’all sick and tired of me already

2. Any sideblogs?

nope

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

wow uh... i don’t remember... 2013 maybe? i made this blog last year in august though

4. Do you have a queue tag?

i don’t have a tag, in fact i don’t tag most of my stuff bc i’m lazy, but my blog almost always runs on queue. once in a blue moon i obsessively post about my hyperfixations but i try not to torture my followers too much

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

i made it to talk to people about flower of evil and intended to delete it afterwards but then i decided to explore photoshop and practice my editing skills too so... i’m still here

6. Why did you choose your avatar?

tak dong kyung is the cutest liddol bean i love that girlie so much. my avatars are just my favourite characters of shows i’m currently watching/not over yet

7. Why did you choose your header?

Because I love Beyond Evil and that scene is everything. - that’s mel’s answer and i’m stealing it bc both our headers are from the same scene and she’s right

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

*sighs* yaa’s. boat. post. it’s gonna haunt me forever isn’t it. no i’m not linking it he already did in his post and that’s enough

9. How many mutuals do you have?

you can check that?? how???

10. How many followers do you have?

491

11. How many blogs do you follow?

144

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

yeah. mostly whenever i’m ranting about my personal life that no one probably cares or wants to know about

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

once? i’m online almost every day unless i have exams or assignments due then i take a couple weeks off. my blog still runs on queue while i’m gone so y’all can feel my presence on your dashes uwu 💞

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

lmao i’m too cowardly to fight people. i do disagree with people on drama opinions mostly but the conversations are always civil

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

they’re guilt-trippy and make me feel bad about myself so i scroll past them real fast usually. no need to make this site a bad experience for me that’s not what this place is for

16. Do you like tag games?

always! they’re so much fun i love doing them and i love getting tagged my response is always ‘oh! this moot remembers me?! thank you for acknowledging my existence! i love you so much!!’ the reason i’m so slow at doing them is bc i need to be in the right headspace i don’t wanna just skim over them and i’m always scared of tagging ppl bc i feel like i’m bothering them lmao

17. Do you like ask games?

yes!! tag games, ask games, i love them all!!! getting attention feels great!!!!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

Idk they are all famous to me 😘 - stealing mel’s answer again bc yes. you’re all famous in my heart 🥰

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

i am a little bit in love with all of my mutuals. we have this strange unyielding bond that ascends beyond time and space and i hope i have made all of my mutuals feel it in one way or another at some point during my time here. any love i made you feel is yours to keep 💓

20. Tags?

i feel like everyone’s done this already so anyone who feels like doing it can say i tagged you!! <3

#thank you so much for tagging me all you lovely people!!!#fun stuff #tagged #hope you're all having a lovely day 💘💝

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jd-rush · 3 years

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Tagged by @oceluna

Thank you!

1. why did you choose your url?

It's my fanfic penname, which I've been using for nearly 30 years. (yes, I'm that old)

2. any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

No. I just dump all my hyper-fixations in one space. I'd apologize but I'm not really sorry.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

I've been visiting blogs since 2010? 2011? I liked the “Sherlock” and Benedict Cumberbatch posts. But only got my own in 2016.

4. do you have a queue tag?

A what?

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I love seeing and sharing fun things with other fans, and celebrating all the amazing talented artists (whether fanart or writing or just really creative posts).

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Dean Winchester's, "I call this one 'the Blue Steel' " is one of my favourite Dean moments, and it fits my current ‘Supernatural’ hyper-fixation. Also, it makes a great icon. (My previous ones were Tony Stark's arc reactor and Star-Lord, for the same reasons)

7. why did you choose your header?

I love Guardians of the Galaxy, and the sign "spacesuits for emergencies or fun" sums them up perfectly. (As Denarian Saal would say, 'What a bunch of a-holes')

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

I don't make many original posts beyond links to my AO3 stories or photos of Manuel Garcia Rulfo, but I did do a silly text post a couple of years ago about Tony Stark and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes and their easy solutions to "Infinity War" that has over 8000 notes. I’m proud to say that’s my contribution to the Marvel fandom.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I'm not sure how to check that? I do know I follow some really cool blogs that make me happy, and I hope anyone who follows me feels the same way.

10. how many followers do you have?

248. I'm actually surprised I have that many. (and no porn bots, at least as far as I know)

11. how many people do you follow?

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

See the Marvel post above.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

Too much. <grin>

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

Luckily, no. I just stay in my lane, and try to keep my blog fan and fandom-friendly.

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Sadly, seeing that phrase makes me tend to ignore the post.

16. do you like tag games?

Yes, I think they're a fun way to learn about the people that bring me so much happiness.

17. do you like ask games?

I think I'm playing one now, right?

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I don't know, but I'm sure they're all more famous than me. <laugh> But seriously, I never paid attention to that--if the blog is fun and makes my inner-fangirl happy, that's all that matters.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I think you're all amazing.

20. tags?

@villa-kulla , @yee-andalso-haw , @thelostsmiles , @angiefsutton , @morriganwarrior , @archervale , @becauseofthebowties , @inacatastrophicmind , @lgbtjack and anyone else who wants to play!

#welcome to my life #text

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Mirio w/soulmate au Dreamscape

Request: Hiya~! I was wondering if you could bless me with a 🍀 prompt staring my boy Mirio? 👉👈 - @drapetomaniac

I’m so so sorry or the delay but my computer decided to combust and leave me alone on this cold world. Thankfully it was fixed quickly and we back on track. Coming string with my boy Mirio here and I’m excited to say the least. I’ll be posting twice today or at least that’s the plan, hope it goes smoothly. Thank you all so so so much for 400 followers I cannot believe you guys like what I write and actually follow me so thank you again. Love yaaa. 💖💖💖

warnings: some angst if you squint, minor spoilers

Soulmates are a funny thing. Not just the idea of a singular individual being your other destined half but also the process until you find them. The signs are interesting to say the least. There are a dozen ways to ‘see’ your soulmate and you were one of the lucky few that had an easier sign.

Dreams a re a funny thing. A reality that your mind creates to keep you entertained while you sleep building whole worlds and tearing your own reality apart all the while keeping you immersed. Dreams were always an interesting concept to you and when he started appearing in them things become all the more exciting.

In truth you couldn’t truly see his face, just some physical characteristics. His height that towered over you, his broad shoulders that seemed to become a wall protecting you from your own imagination, his hair that were a literal sunflower and his light. The light he was always accompanied with in your dreams. His was the definition of a star and you were almost certain that he could outshine the sun himself. He was beyond endearing.

Your dreams of him began in middle school. You didn’t know who he was and you didn’t have any idea how you could find out. So you left his identity in the hands of your dreams, of your destiny knowing that when the right time came you would know. It had happened before. Soulmates that could see each other in their dreams finally meeting and feeling one another. They didn’t have to know who the other was. They simply knew. And that’s were your hopes lay.

Life went on smoothly for the next five years, nothing special happening and no unique feeling while meeting new people. In all honesty you were fine with that, your positive nature unwavering. You were in your last year of high school now, getting ready to enter adulthood and close this chapter of your life. University was your next stop and you couldn’t be happier. Becoming a doctor was your longtime dream after realizing that hero work was not in your genes. Everything was so bright, so positive and then they were not.

He was different. The light that surrounded him had dimmed leaving him in the shadow of his former self. His posture had changed, shoulders caving into himself and head hang low not looking your way anymore. You tried reaching him but you knew better. You couldn’t get any closer, your mind wouldn’t let you. A low beeping noise could be barely heard and you immediately knew what it was. Heart monitor. Life support. You felt the shudder as he crumpled to his knees, loud sobs erupting from his chest. Was he hurt? Was he dying? Why, why couldn’t get any closer? And then the beeping stopped. The breath caught in your throat and you were steadying yourself for the emptiness that would follow his departure. But it never came. He continued to sob, caving into himself. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Consciousness made her way into your mind and you could feel yourself waking up. No no no no you couldn’t leave him. He needed you. He was falling apart. You have to be here next to him. With a final attempted you screamed as loud as you could and surprisingly he looked up. He looked at you and-

You woke up with a start, chest heaving and breath frantic. Something happened. Something happened to him and he was in danger. But what danger? Was he alright now? Was he still fighting for his life? Did he really hear you? So many question and yet so little answers. Alas you could only hope to meet him soon. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of shame on your part. You had left him. You had left him alone to suffer and you would go back to your ordinary life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair

The U.A festival was by far the most anticipated event for the U.A students. Having your best friend in the support class and you declining attending for the previous two years, you decided to attend this time around. It would be her last year at the school after all and you wanted her to be happy. That’s how you found yourself in the changing room for the beauty pageant helping a certain Nejire Hado do her make up. The girl was a handful. From her happy-go-lucky character to her constant shift of attention she was kind of a challenge to deal with. But you liked her. She was basically an angel.

Nejire was ready at last and she was hugging you as thanks bashing over how cute you are and what a shame it was that you couldn’t participate in the pageant yourself, when a little girl walked in. Her light grey-blue hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back and her big red eyes scanned the room finally falling on you and Nejire.

“Nejire, the strap of my dress is loose and Mirio can’t do it right.” she pouted looking down at the strap of the dress falling from her shoulder. As if on queue the speakers announced that the pageant was beginning.

“I’m sorry Eri but i have to go. Oh, how about Y/N fixed it she was a huge help to me!!” and with that she was off and you were left alone with the little girl, Eri. Walking to her you dropped to you knees and gently grabbed the strap tying it with a small knot. Eri was looking at your face, scanning your features and grabbing a strand of stray hairs, tucking them behind your ear.

“So you can see.” she whispered and you gave her a small smile, patting her shoulder signaling that she was ready but staying at her level looking her in the eye.

“I’m Y/N and it’s nice to meet you Eri.” she smiled at you before looking back at the door she came through. “Who was with you? We can go find them and you can enjoy the festival.”

“I’m with Mirio, he was talking with Izuku when my strap got loose and I heard Nejire talking.” she looked down at her hands. “But I don’t know where he is now.”

“What does he look like? I can help you find him.” you smiled at her and she kinda shied away from you but started her description nonetheless.

“He’s really tall and he has big arms and he gives the best hugs and his hair are yellow.” she almost beamed at you as she talked but she didn’t grace you with a smile. “You can’t really miss him and I’ll see him and tell you. Come on.” she grabbed your arm and almost dragged you out the door.

It didn’t take long to find him, he was as tall as a tree after all. Eri’s gasp when she saw him was the cutest thing you had ever heard but then you were yanked towards his direction by the small girl. She let go of your hand and jumped in the arms of the boy, Mirio, giving small apologies for running off. That’s when you truly saw him.

The light that surrounded him was the exact same as the one you would see in your dreams. The feeling you have been waiting for was there and it was hitting you across the head over and over the more you looked at him. You could only imagine your expression but you could use one word for it. Shock.

Mirio on the other and was frozen in place, Eri still in his arms. That aura. The one he has been feeling for so long every time he saw her in his dreams. The one that surrounded the person that pulled him out of his despair when he was dealing with the loss of his quirk and Sir’s death. The aura of his soulmate. He could only let out a small laugh before he stumbled over his own words trying to say something to the literal goddess that was standing in front of him. You giggled at his nervousness and he swore he hadn’t heard a more angelic sound in his life.

“I/m Y/N L/N.”

“And I’m your soulmate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic , @brattyquirks

#mirio togata #mha mirio #mirio imagine #mirio x reader #mirio x you #mirio #bnha #special event #soulmate au

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scuttling · 3 years

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For the anon asking about the writing prompts I use for the flash fiction series, check under the cut! I paste the list into this randomizer.

Pretending not to care

Pain is pleasure

Innocence

Wasting time

Italian restaurant

Leave a mark

The first touch

Childhood memories

The future

Touch

Manners

A sense of obligation

Distant as the moon

Keeping secrets

Fresh fruit

Medical professional

Teacher

Unprofessional

Description

Come undone

Dive bar

Role-play

Third time is the charm

Cooking

Coffee

Under my skin

Uncertainty

Tattoo

Broken promises

The coppery taste of blood

Morning

Prompts

Pain is good; it lets you know you're still alive

Pizza

Closet

Under lock and key

Things I’ll never say

Languages

Empty boxes

Bouquet of flowers

Fancy dress

Drown your sorrows

So hard to say goodbye

Automatic response

Celebration

The morning after

Cool drink of water

Handprints

Miscommunication

Summer nights

Chains around my heart

Talking in code

Chinese food

The color of the ocean

News article

Paper drink umbrella

Trying to explain

Nothing on TV

Lonely

Humor

Wish you were here

Lip balm

Ink

Road trip

Routine

Old photographs

The smell of her perfume

Beyond your limits

Addiction

The smell of rain

Ice water

Keeping secrets

Slow

Stargazing

Know you better

Accomplishing little

Pride

No more birthdays

Not an open book

If it didn't matter, you wouldn't keep bringing it up

Sand

Police officer

Sticky sweet

Thunderstorm

Candlestick

Blue

Feels like home

Panties

Surrender

Start a fire

In the check-out line/queue

Fast food

Sterile

Never again

Devotion

Watching you, watching me

Beneath me

Heat

Comfort food

A spilled drink

Waves crashing

Hot cookies and cold milk

Anything but ordinary

Your breath against my skin

Yesterday

Popcorn

Make you cry

Bad habit

First time

Faith

Under lock and key

Replacement

Unique

Stream of consciousness

Five senses

Proximity

Rollercoaster

Conflict

Close to forever

A good cry

Ripe strawberries

No electricity

Day off

Bordering on obsession

Scars

Running

Autumn leaves

Windy and raining

Champagne

Been there, done that

Honest mistake

Family member

Control/an illusion of control

Fortune cookie

Half empty is not half full

Red

Sarcasm

Break the rules

Asking for a favor

Handcuffs

Lonely

Playground

Movie theatre

Behind closed doors

Oddly appealing

Last but not least

Nature vs. nurture

White

Room key

Pink

Burn

I'm not sorry.

Running out of time

Different but the same

Chopsticks

Little black dress

Record

Without enough information

Draw the line

No stone unturned

Brewing tea

Jell-O

Wanting what you can’t have

Tall, dark, handsome

Can’t see the stars

Shattered glass

A car

Silhouette

Strangers in the dark

Do you remember...?

Determination

Puzzles

Vast

Homeless person

A pet

Daydreams

The end

Not afraid

Holding hands

The first rule of fight club

Someone else's trophy

After an accident

Tears in her eyes

Motel

#ask answered #anon #fanfic writing #prompts

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sanders1665 · 2 years

Text

Time is becoming a distant friend,

while I chastise my inner mind for ruminating the journeys end,

cherished souvenirs of my youth,

are the memories that have captured springtime's truth.

Sweet Summer is nearly over,

this body is tired from pushing the boulder,

the demeanor of my sleep seems like a prelude to death,

but her love and dreams still give me strength.

It feels like I'm blending with the background,

I'm not invisible yet, I can still be found,

my sense of relevance is fading away,

but my inner child still wants to play.

Modern morality and behavior is corroding my sense of humanity,

and my liberal perspective offers reluctant amnesty,

remembering love makes the world go round,

as angels and demons cavort in the playground.

Triumphs and conquests hold my head high,

while tragedies and sorrows make my heart heavy with a deep sigh,

focusing on the potential good that tomorrow could bring,

building a castle of memories with a luscious wellspring.

Adventures can be found at a much slower pace,

the journey of life is no longer a race,

taking time to appreciate the pretty in the view,

joyful memory making has become an active pursuit.

With age comes new understandings,

that maturity has a different type of dancing,

experience and wisdom can provide clarification,

when the outside world causes consternation.

Shadows of ghosts follow behind me,

sometimes, ill entertain them during midnight reveries,

with murmurs of dubious deeds that accusingly reverberate,

but my northern queen brought about their checkmate.

We used to write old fashioned love letters,

and we can still satiate each others pleasures,

all good love stories have chapters of pain,

fortunately, rainbows have often appeared with the rain.

Observing youths vitality can be wearisome,

conflicting with the aging man I have become,

but love, passion and romance have serene capture,

these bountiful gifts are precious in my storybooks chapter.

Miirrors can no longer hold my gaze,

when my tears taste bittersweet of halcyon days,

gravity and time are conspiring friends,

but my youthful mind still pretends.

An enigmatic moon and faraway stars saunter over my head,

as our children sleep peacefully in their bed,

soothing quiet can fall into disarray,

in solitude, I sometimes pray.

Souvenirs of joy flow in my blood,

keepsakes cherished from a tender bud,

serendipitous moments spring out of the blue,

pushing sadness to the back of the queue.

Sunset memories shimmer beyond the horizon,

and the sunrise will always tease with a fresh surprise,

friends and family come and go,

mindful of ones ebbing being caught in a downstream flow.

Troubling thoughts of a diminishing future,

as misty graveyards tease with a tombstone suitor,

an unwritten epitaph is gathering dust waiting to be carved,

for this mans zest for life is still full of charge.

Sweet memories are plenty within my soul,

keepsakes that are sustenance gathered in my fruit bowl,

life moves us forward in mysterious ways,

and love carries us regardless of the remaining days.

#poets of tumblr #words of mine #poetry #my poem #original poem #poets and writers #contemplation #poem

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why-i-ask · 4 years

Text

I've been wanting to do things with these prompts for ages but I don't have art skills. So, >-< writing. Big long.

-Star Guardian AU -

It’s the sound of the old school clock striking three that draws Ezreal’s attention away from blankly staring at the pages of an old chemistry book. It’s hard to think of school when you have an alter ego living in a galaxy above saving the world every night. He Exhales and closes the book finding it pointless to pretend any longer.

“Something wrong?” Chipped the soft voice of the pink haired mage besides him.

He flinched he’d almost forgotten he invited Lux to study with him.

“No just, can’t focus.”

“I get that, why don’t we get coffee?”

“This place has a coffee shop?” Ezreal mused, he’d never really looked around outside of their shared accommodation. He wanted to explore the stars not the streets.

“Yea, It’s really cute. Also is hiring-” Lux smiled, tapping his shoulder as she strutted past him.

“I think I’ve got enough work to do.” He rolled his eyes, standing up and tucking the books back into his bag.

Ezreal would be lying if he said Lux was wrong. The place was adorable. A small shop on the corner, with little ivory tables and chairs set about it’s front protected by a brown fence decked in vines, the open sign was a soft lavender, shimmering in the window. As they opened the door, the old chimes range overhead. The inside was an array of pastels, the walls in a soft lemon, with the tables and chairs were in a checked mint. The counter was a baby blue, he stared at the array of cakes in their display trays at one side, as they approached the cashier straighten. He was a young male, perhaps the same age as them working some part time for extra cash. He looked tired though, the dark shades under his eyes even visible with his dark chocolate skin.

“Hey, Can I take your order?”

“Yea- Do you guys still do that amazing strawberry cheesecake?” Lux chimed.

“That was last weeks special, this time is raspberry it rotates every week.”

“Hm, shame. Then just two super choco brownies and a strawberry smoothie for me- What do you want Ez?” She turned to look at him, drawing the cashier’s attention to him as well.

Ezreal bit his lip he hadn’t payed enough attention to the menu; he scrunched his face up in thought, the Cashier rolled his eyes messing with a lose strand of his white hair that had escape the taming of a messy bun.

“Take your time, there’s not a queue yet.” He hummed, “before turning round to the kitchen outlet, “Tal, can you start fix up the order on screen..”

Ezreal sighed, glancing back across the small menu on the desk, his eyes glancing across the sweets. “uhm, Can I have a latte and a caramel slice?”

The cashier smiled slightly, “Sure, got a name for that?”

“uh, Ezreal-”

“Great. You tow paying separately or together?”

“I’m paying,” Lux smiled, “It’s my treat afterall, long day.”

Ezreal was about to protest but lux elbowed him and he decided against it. There wasn’t much point in arguing she could be stubborn she got that from Jinx.

“Your total is 28.50. You can sit down if you like. we’ll bring it to your table. ”

Lux grinned fishing around her purse for a few notes handing them over, before turning and grabbing Ezreal arm, pulling him to one of the corner tables.

“What do you think?” She hummed, nudging the table décor to the side.

“It’s nice..”

“No, I know that- I mean him.”

Ezreal blinked, she was really trying to set him up like that? She really wanted him to move on. “No.”

“C’mon, why not? Star guardian too busy for love? You weren’t to busy to run after me-”

“That was different. I don’t have to keep anything secret from you.”

Lux sighed and shook her head, the spacebuns she had decided to sport seemed to lag in their movements. “Not everything has to be about saving the universe.”

Ezreal huffed, She was right and he didn’t like that. He wanted to pretend it could entirely be about fighting monsters; saving the world being a hero. mysterious, adored. Yet she was right he had a real life too. They were sat in silence for only a few minutes, watching other guests enter, sit down to chat or walk away with a small coffee. Then the server approached, she must’ve also been a part time hire; though she was much more lively than the cashier. Her short brown hair tied in spacebuns almost twinning lux’s current hairstyle, which caused a grin to spread across her face. Her bright chestnut eyes glittered with excitement as she set the tray down on the table.

“Hey, sorry for the wait. Brownies and a strawberry smoothie.” she hummed, setting down the plate and glass before lux.

“Thank you! it’s not a problem!”

“and a caramel slice and coffee for....Asreal?” Her face scrunched slightly as she glanced at the cup to read before placing it down with the plate before Ezreal.

“Thanks-” He hummed, though his attention was drawn to the bad spelling of his name on the cup. He didn’t think it was that hard to spell.

She picked up the empty tray, “Enjoy! If you want anything else feel free to ask!”

“We will, Thank you...Taliyah? I love the hair by the way.” Lux grinned, leaning over slightly to look at the name tag on the waitress’ pastel red uniform.

Taliyah practically glowed at the compliment,

“Next-” It was the fairly loud shout from the Cashier that drew her attention and caused her to hurry back to behind the counter.

Lux giggled picking up a brownie and biting into it. “What about her?”

“Lux! I’m not that pathetic to have a crush on just anyone who’s nice to me!”

She laughed, “of course not~ I’m teasing.”

Ezreal huffed, sipping from the latte. It was bittersweet and hot- perhaps he should’ve specified the sugar addition and waited- He place it back down trying not to wince at the slight burn.

“but I do mean it, you need to get out more. In the real world.”

He sighed, taking a bit from the caramel square. “I know.”

Lux was quick to pick up on the irritation in his tone and turned the conversation swiftly to the subjects of school; English to be precise. some of play by a dead guy Ezreal had since forgotten the name of. She was quite happy to chatter on allowing him brief moments to interrupt with his own thoughts. They remained in the shop for perhaps thirty minutes, the snacks gone and drinks drunk before lux’s finally finished her rant.

“oh my, is that the time? We should head back and meet up with the other’s.”

Ezreal nodded standing up, he piled the plats and cups up before they took their leave.

~~~

It was Saturday evening, sitting board in the longue watching Soraka and lulu playing chess on the old coffee table. When Lux, swung round again, “Hey guys.. before we have our movie night why do we go out?”

“where? Y’know those restaurants are just so pricey and not worth it-”

“What about the cafe?”

“that lil shop on the corner near school?” Lulu tilted her head. “It always smells so nice.”

“Yeah. It’s got pretty good prices.”

So they made the walk off to the corner shop, the dwindling light of the day fading into the sunset as the approached the familiar ivory décor though it was now glowing in a soft umber from the fading light.

They entered the shop to the familiar jingle of the chimes, This time the cashier was their server; Taliyah. Her hair still tied in it’s space buns, She smiled upon seeing them enter.

“Hello! What can i get you today?”

Lulu giggled, standing on her tippy toes to peer over the counter, “a menu if you wouldn’t mind-”

“Ah-” Taliyah quickly picked up the sheet on the counter and handed it to her.

“I’ll have lemon meringue pie, and a J20?” Lux hummed, “never tried the pie before..”

“That sounds great- oh they have apple pies too- I’d like one of those.” Soraka said, glancing back to Ezreal and lulu.

“Uhm, A latte I suppose with just two sugars- and...a chocolate sundae.”

“ooh! Oh! chocolate sundae with waffles!” Lulu piped up placing the menu down.

“Do you have a name for your latte?” Taliyah smiled, stifling a laugh at lulu’s reaction as she tapped it into the register again.

“Uhm, Ezreal- But it’s spell with an E.”

Taliyah shrugged. “Alright...And you’re paying with?”

“Oh i’’ll paying, You guys can just pay me back later makes everything easier.” Soraka said interupting lux’s offer to just pay the whole thing again.

“Thanks roka!”

“Great, your total is 42.69.” Taliyah hummed, “Feel free to sit down and we’ll bring it out...”

Soraka paid and they returned to one of the booths in the side.

“She’s very nice.”

“Yeah, I wonder if she’s the only one on today, He’s not here today- oh what was his name tag?”

Ezreal shrugged, he hadn’t payed too much mind to the cashier beyond how tired he seemed and the jokes lux had made.

“Well their not too busy now so they probably don’t need that many people on.” Lulu grinned, before turning to Soraka and pulling out some playing cards. “go fish?”

“You know you always lose...”

“This time i’ll win! I’ve been practicing!”

Soraka laughed softly and took the cards to deal out, Ezreal declined the offer to play. It was more fun to watch than participate in with the way the two could get aggressive.

A few minutes passed before the counter door swung open and the male from yesterday stepped over carrying a tray brimmed with their order.

“Evening...” He hummed, a slight grin twisting on his face as he set down each of the treats before each of them.

He looked at least somewhat happier than last time, though he still seemed tired, Ezreal wondered why, it couldn’t be that hard. Just sitting in the quiet shop all day serving food. Not even everyday of the week? Maybe with school work a little tough. But it shouldn’t be difficult. He hardly notice the other say his name as he handed him the latte.

“Careful it’s hot.”

“Thanks..” He hummed, forcing a smile as he flicked his gaze down to see the name tag. “...Ekko.”

“Enjoy guys.” The server; Ekko hummed as he turned away, this time his hair wasn’t perfectly in it’s high bun but instead it was tied in a mix between a bun and a ponytail as if done up in a hurry.

“So? Still no?”

He turned back to face lux and scowled. “Come off it..”

“you’re staring though..”

“He looks tired, don’t know what he has to be tired about he’s not the one saving the world-.” He huffed, brushing off the hint she was giving him. He glanced down to his latte and blinked. Ah.

‘Ezreel’ He guess he did say with an E. Another misspelling. He shrugged it off, and moved on to pick up the spoon and take a scoop of ice cream.

Another pleasant night of laughs as lux and Soraka gushed over their favourite movies. Lulu chiming in with her own takes on each film.

Ezreal didn’t though he listened intently his thoughts were more about how he could get them to spell his name right. That and considering if perhaps Ekko had some secret double life of action that could give him a reason to be so tired; though that was more down to his own bias. Once again they left after forty minutes, placing the empty dishes neatly piled together for ease of collecting.

Returning back home in time to find Ahri and jinx had picked the movie for them.

~~~

He returned to the coffee shop a few times over the course of the next few weeks. Sometimes accompanied by Lux or lulu other times alone, Yet every time. Regardless of who was one till, he ordered a latte; he’d catch Ekko stifle a laugh at his order, or drop a smirk as he handed him his drink and with out fail there would be a misspelling; Ezrel, Izreel, Aseraphel, Esral, Ezrela.

He huffed, stubborn and determined as he strolled through the door listening to the chimes ringing once more. He approached the counter, to see the white haired male restocking the display. He glanced up and smiled,

“What can i get you?”

“Usual a Latte...”

“Got a name for it?”

“Ezreal. That’s E-Z-”

“I know.” He laughed waving his hand to dismiss him. “Anything else?”

“uhm- no-”

“Wait a second then-”

He watched the other twirl away to the coffee machine, standing awkwardly as he waited; perhaps trying to distract himself with the décor yet his interest was piqued he never really watched them make it. It seemed to make the other happy, humming- he still looked tired that never seemed to change. Though he was used to it now, maybe it was endearing he’d like to know why but it’d be rude to ask. He must’ve zoned out as the next thing he knew the other was back in front of him.

“That’s 4.99, thanks.”

He nodded, handing over a fiver as he took the coffee

“Careful it’s-..” Hummed the other, passing the change and receipt.

“hot I know, like same.” Ezreal mused, a grin spreading across his lips at the other’s slightly surprised expression.

He recovered quickly and nodded, looking over to the next customer.

Ezreal stepped aside turning to leave he glanced at his drink.

‘Easy.’ Oh haha.

He rolled his eyes fumbling with the receipt when something else caught his eye. on the back of the receipt. He flattened it out, a sequence of digit- and a smiley face-

Weird almost looks like a- Oh. OH.

He paused and glanced back towards the counter, Briefly catching the other’s gaze watching the smirk tug at his lips as he wrote down the next order.

He folded it, placing the number into his pocket. Maybe he’d use it. Maybe he’d get an answer to his question after all. Maybe lux was right all along- Maybe. Just maybe.

#Coffeeshopau #Writingprompts #Starguardian #Ekko #Ezreal #Lux #ezreal x ekko

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