#i started this at midnight and just kept rewriting bits

[badlydrawnmanic]

spent all of sonic's birthday thinking about and drawing his dad sndgjks

you're a mid 20-something year old guy. you're fun, you're charming, you're... honestly not very responsible, but you're eager, and by god do you love your beautiful princess / queen wife. why'd she choose you? no clue, but your three precious children were just born, life is good, and there is absolutely nothing that could possibly ruin this for you!

uh oh! looks like a certain someone's been fatally shot with lasers and thrown into the easy-bake robot-making machine. at least you don't have to think about it! not anymore... you get random blips of consciousness during your time as one of eggman's drones. maybe you saw a ruined structure, or a glimpse of a certain someone's face, but you experience a spark of realization, snapping you out of an almost zombie-like trance. you can't really feel anything, but you find yourself staring as the other robots continue their work, transfixed by a strange sense of familiarity. it gets harder to think the longer you stare, your vision blurring again before you snap back into a state of mindless obedience, your body moving on its own. looks like it's back to work for you...

it's been quite a while since you've been freed from eggman's control. most of the others have been turned back by now, but you're still a robot on account of, well... being fatally shot with lasers just before you were roboticized. it's a good thing your brother's good with machines - he might be old and gray now, but he's fixed plenty of 'bots, so he can certainly fix you. you aren't sure if you want to be the mid 20-something year old guy you once were, or the mid 40-something year old you should be. you struggle to decide, inadvertently ending up as a mix of both. you think you look kind of awkward, but your brother did his best. your wife says you're perfect, kissing your cheek as an unseen fan starts to whirr loudly inside your chest, then she starts to laugh oh, how you love her laugh... you aren't sure how long the feeling is going to last - you don't want to worry about it - but for once, this whole situation doesn't seem quite so bad.

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

o yea. i saw u reblogged rock & midnight. how r they in ur rewrite ? :3

Glad you asked!

For simple fun things, Midnight is huge because I like the giant badgers. Rock is also gay.

I'll put Midnight in the second post. You've hit Lore Jackpot.

For the more complex things... Let's start with Rock. A bit of Rock's dialog from PO3 intrigued me and I never quite let it go.

I know it was probably meant as a "ooughh immortality is awful" line but... What if it isn't?

What if he actually was cursed? Why else would a being that feels like this... Feel like this? This isn't an emotionless immortal creature rejecting Jayfeather out of coldness, this is a repressed, traumatized creature rejecting Jayfeather because he is seeing a newborn baby and a rotten corpse at the same time. He doesn't have access to Starclan, he cannot stay friends with Jayfeather after he inevitably dies. It'll only hurt. Also, there are heavy implications if not outright statements that Rock used to be a normal cat! He's even mentioned in Night Whispers to be scarred. (Look I know that the 2007 book that mentions 3 tribes and mentions that Rock's kin used to live around the lake isn't canon anymore but... Who cares. Its better worldbuilding than what we've got now.)

So... What could cause immortality like this?

I began to brainstorm, and decided it was a real tragedy. Something awful happened, something a certain young tom should have learned a lesson from... And didn't.

It was a gloomy day around the lakeside when a young couple, a gray and white tom named Rock who to swim and his new mate, a pure brown tom named Bug who loved to try herbs on wounds, to heal them. The two had been racing each other down the lakeside, laughing and playing, rushing through the autumn leaves and exploding out of the piles the had accumulated.

Bug, the more adventurous of the 2, had found a small opening. The scent of running water had made his curiosity burn. Rock nervously followed him, reminding him that they needed to get home at some point soon. Rock's mother, Falcon, had recently had 3 kits, and he needed to go and watch over them for her and his father, so they could hunt together.

Bug urged him on. "Come on Rocky!" He mewed, his eyes widening when it echoed. "This place is too cool to not explore a LITTLE! What if we can't find it again? Besides, we can bring back something for them all when we leave."

Rock couldn't argue with that! He leapt down after Bug, their tails twined together as they looked around. Rock's thick, fluffy fur was keeping him warm, though Bug, with his short fur, needed to huddle against his mate to keep warmer in the cold tunnels.

The tunnels did not seem to run deep, but soon enough Rock and Bug found themselves navigating using only their whiskers and tentative pawsteps. The tunnel took a sharp turn suddenly, enough that Rock nearly bumped his nose into the wall!

Bug laughed, and the wonderful, soft sound echoed. But... Soon after, another sound would very faintly echo through the tunnels.

Thunder.

"Oh, jeez, I didn't know it would rain. We should probably get back now."

How easy that sounded... The two toms rushed through the tunnels, their hearts beginning to pound as water filled the narrow rocky halls, Rock himself slipped over his own paws, landing into the water, the freezing water soaking into his thick fur immediately and chilling him to the bone.

"Rocky!" Bug had cried, but the water was picking up speed, dragging Rock down, deeper into the tunnel. Above, a hole in the ground had worn away, pouring more rainwater into the tunnels and providing a light.

The last thing Bug saw of Rock was his eyes glazed with terror as he slid away into the darkness, crying out for Bug...

Bug had kept going, managing to find another tunnel that lead straight outside into... Bright sunlight? Bug was soaked to bone, he had heard the crashing thunder just seconds ago...

Falcon stood outside the tunnel entrance, a deep glare on her face. "Where have you been?! It's been 2 days! And where is Rock?!"

"B... Bug? ... Where's Rock...?"

A few days later, Bug gathered himself, and would fling himself into the tunnels once more, the floor of them was as dry and bare as bleached bone. Not a single sign of the rain that had washed his lover away...

Bug searched, deeper and deeper, down the tunnel he could have sworn did not stretch that long.... Into a coldness that he swears he could feel in his very soul.

Down, at the very bottom chamber, lit by a shimmering white mossy rock, is Rock's body. His fur isn't soft anymore, it's cold and wet. His eyes, unblinking, stare into nothing. Bug begins to weep as the mossy rock that isn't a mossy rock sits up, striding over.

"I am sorry for your loss." A large, fluffy, pure white molly speaks. Her glossy fur shimmers, and her eyes, black as night, give nothing away. "It was his time."

"What do you mean 'it was his time'? He had a family! He has little siblings! His mother and father are broken hearted!"

"Everything has a time. It cannot be rewritten. Your time will come. Everything that has happened, is happening, will happen." She spoke without tone, her hollow voice echoing through the chamber. “I am time's keeper. The god of time. I have seen all that there is and has been and was. All is as it should be, as it ever was, as it always will be. Move forward, like time has, and you will be happy once more.”

Bug unsheathes his claws, he stares down at Rock, his sweet Rock, who had never harmed another cat in his life, had only ever been kind... Why him? Why not some other awful cat to drown this way in this awful place? "No." Is all he says, as he leaps at the ethereal molly, slashing her throat. Sparkling blue blood covers Bug, the molly doesn't even so much as flinch.

"You will regret this, little one. Time needs a keeper. It will never be your time. You cannot change what has been written."

The god of Time dies, and Bug finds himself lifted into the air. All at once he sees what has been, could be, should be, will be, and is. His fur begins to streak gray from the stress and strain, his eyes turning pure white. He rushes to Rock, crying out softly for him to wake up, that he has power over time, there must be a way to fix this... To turn back time....

But the molly had told him already. He is the god of Time, not its warden.

He repeats his beloved's name to not lose his mind. He cannot leave the tunnels. Time stretches on and he realizes what the old god had meant. He ages, seasons pass. Heat and ice and rain and young cats and sticks and crying parents and terrible storms and so, so much emptiness.

He repeats Rock's name to remember it. His lover's bones long since crumbled to dust and to nothing. Over and over, and over.

Without seeing him, a tiny gray tabby picks up the stick he guards, the very last one. He senses the cat in front of him, and says hello without fear. The kitten, Jaykitpawfeather states his current name, not yet aware of how it will change. He asks for the name of the god of Time.

In an old, creaking voice, he stammers out the only name he can remember.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 5: Fever

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer From a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: G Word count: 1.9k

Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

Author's Notes: This fever scene is very close to the one depicted in the book, so in case folks are wondering why I bothered rewriting it, the answer is simple: taking out the bits I found icky. Feverish Benedict dragging Sophie into bed with him, demanding that she kiss him while her pants fall off; Sophie kissing him on the mouth while he's unconscious; and then the most bizarre of all: he rolls around naked while she changes the sheets underneath him like she learned to do for a sick elderly lady 😅 I just...I don't know what to say about those moments, so here's my heartfelt correction. No shade to book fans 💙

On returning to her room, Sophie found the dry night dress laid across the bed as promised. A surfeit of nervous energy kept her going as she changed into it, but once her head hit her pillow, she felt herself succumbing to an exhaustion so total it seemed to come from her very bones.

It had been a long day, a very long day, between attending to her daily chores, dashing around the house to escape Cavender and his party, an unexpected horse ride through torrential rain with the man she longed for… Her eyelids drifted shut. In moments she was floating, sinking into the welcome embrace of sleep.

She sat up suddenly, her heart pounding. The fire in the fireplace had burned low, alerting her that she must have slept for some time. But she had been so deep in a dreamless calm, she wondered what could have woken her. She had the faintest impression that she had heard a voice, a shout, somewhere in her consciousness. Was it Benedict? Had he called out? He had not looked at all well when she left him. 

Sophie eased out of bed, wrapped a blanket around herself for a shawl, and crept back to his room. Through the door she heard again the sound that must have woken her. It was a deep groan, followed by a thrashing noise, and then by what could only be called a whimper.

Quietly, she let herself into Benedict’s room and closed the door. It was so dark she could barely see him in the bed, the only light a faint glow from the dying fire. She groped about for a candle, bent to light it in the coals and then turned to look across the room. He was lying in the bed, almost preternaturally still, his face shining with perspiration. Sophie edged toward him, her eyes focusing on his chest. She knew he couldn’t possibly be dead, but she’d feel an awful lot better once she saw his chest rise and fall.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” she whispered. “Mr. Bridgerton?”

No response.

She crept closer, leaning over the edge of the bed. “Mr. Bridgerton?”

With a shudder he began to visibly breathe, but he also started to thrash and moan. Sophie rested the candle on the bedside table and knelt next to him. There was enough heat coming off his body that she knew he was in the grips of a fever. He tossed and turned, twisting the sheets around himself, mumbling streams of unintelligible words.

Sophie reached out to touch his forehead. It was on fire.

He was in need of a doctor, that much was clear. Determined, she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and shuffled back into the hall. She had no idea what time it was other than the dead of night, likely past midnight. She padded barefoot back to the entryway of the inn. The fire in the large grate had died down to coals. A single candle sat burning on the desk and behind it was the stable boy, stretched out across a bench snoring lightly.

“Pardon me?” Sophie whispered. When he did not stir, she crept over and gently poked him in the shoulder. The boy’s eyes flew open and he bolted to stand upright.

“Hullo, Miss! Can I help you?” He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus them.

“Hello,” she gave him half a smile. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I believe Mr. Bridgerton is in need of a doctor. Can you send for one?”

“Oh,” he blinked at her. “I’m sorry Miss, but the village doctor’s gone out of town. I only know because Mr. Cooper went with him. His daughter’s having a baby, you see. They left an hour ago.”

“Oh, I see,” Sophie felt deflated.The boy looked up at her nervously as her mind whirred. There was nothing for it, she would have to tend to Benedict as best she could until the carriage from Aubrey Hall arrived. “Thank you,” she managed to keep her voice steady. “I will see what I can do. I’m sorry I woke you.” The boy shrugged at her, grinned, then curled up on the bench and fell back asleep as quickly as a cat.

Returning to Benedict’s room, Sophie found him lying still, but his breathing was shallow and rapid. She reached out and touched his brow again. She couldn’t be certain, but it seemed to her that it was growing warmer.

This was not good. She chewed on her lower lip as she tried to decide what to do. She had no experience nursing the feverish, but it seemed to her that the logical thing would be to cool him off. She moved across the room to the pitcher and basin, finding it thankfully full of water with a cloth nearby. As she soaked the cloth, she heard a soft murmur behind her.

“Where?”

She turned. “Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Where?” he repeated. But he did not open his eyes. 

She walked back to the bedside. Even by the light of one solitary candle she could see his eyes darting rapidly under his lids. It was bizarre, she thought, to see another person dream.

“Where’d you go?” he groaned, his brow creasing into a look of anguish.

Sophie held her breath. He wasn’t lucid. Clearly he wasn’t asking her where she went when she left the room. No, he was somewhere else entirely, calling out to whom - she could never guess. But the pain on his face cut through her. She thought she could at least comfort him, despite not knowing the cause of his suffering.

She placed the cloth on his forehead and leaned toward him. “I’m right here,” she whispered. 

He shifted, mumbling something utterly incoherent, then fell still again. Sophie continued to dab the cloth across his brow and down his neck. “This ought to make you feel a little better.” He didn’t flinch when she touched him, and she decided to take that as a good sign. 

She cooled the cloth with more water from the basin and then began to move it across his chest which was glistening with perspiration. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His face had grown placid again, his brow gentle and his lips slightly parted. The only sound in the room was his quickened breath. He was ashen even in the warm candlelight and she noticed for the first time how long his dark lashes were. Despite being lost in a fever, he was still the most handsome man she had ever seen. 

She could never have imagined that she would find herself here with Benedict again, and in the strangest of circumstances. For two years she had dreamed of him, for two years she had loved him, or at least the idea of him, the version that lived in her head. But here he was before her, warm and solid and real, and in need of her. 

But it wouldn’t last. In the morning a carriage would come and take him away, out of her life again. This would be the last time she saw him. It had to be. Her heart couldn’t bear it. Being this close and this intimate with the man she desperately longed for but unable to act upon her feelings or even be honest with him. Because who was she? A bastard and a maid. A trespasser, a thief, and likely a wanted criminal. What was there for Benedict to love or even to respect? No, this was her final night in his presence, gifted to her by fate, and she resolved to make the most of it and savor this end to her dreams.

Her heart fluttering wildly, she leaned down and brushed the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on his pale forehead. “I love you,” she whispered, allowing a solitary tear to escape. “I’ve always loved you.”

To Sophie’s everlasting relief, he didn’t move. It wasn’t the sort of moment she wanted him to remember in the morning. She continued to cool him with the cloth until his skin felt clammy rather than scorching. His breathing also slowed to a normal rate which brought her a sense of calm. She was exhausted, her rest having been broken, and she left his bedside to sit in one of the armchairs by the fire. She dozed helplessly, fading in and out of awareness. How long she stayed like that she wasn’t sure, it could have been minutes or hours. But at some point, Benedict suddenly groaned. She snapped to attention and saw that he was shifting restlessly in the bed. She hurriedly made her way to his side.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” she whispered. She wanted desperately to call him Benedict. That was how she thought of him; that was what she’d called him in her dreams these long two years. But that would be inexcusably familiar and certainly not in keeping with her position as a servant.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” she whispered again. “Are you all right?”

His eyelids fluttered open. 

“How do you feel?” she asked him.

He blinked several times, and Sophie couldn’t be sure whether he’d heard her or not. He looked so unfocused, she couldn’t even be sure whether he’d truly seen her.

“Mr. Bridgerton?”

He squinted in the fading candlelight. “Sophie,” he said hoarsely, his throat sounding terribly scratchy. “The housemaid.”

She nodded. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“Water,” he rasped. 

She filled a drinking glass with water from the pitcher and handed it to him. His fingers were shaking, so she did not let go of the glass as he brought it to his lips. He took a couple of sips and then sagged back against the pillows.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Sophie reached out and touched his brow. It was still quite warm, but he seemed lucid once again, and she took that as a sign that the fever had broken. “I think you’ll be better in the morning.”

He laughed. Not hard, and not with anything approaching vigor, but he actually laughed. “Not likely,” he croaked.

“Well, not recovered,” she allowed, “but I think you’ll feel better than you do right now.”

“It would certainly be hard to feel worse.”

Sophie smiled at him.  “I tried to call for the doctor but he was out of the village tonight.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow, surprised at her level of concern and initiative.

“I’ve also sent for a carriage from Aubrey Hall. I expect it will be here in the morning. You certainly can’t ride in this state.”

Again Benedict wondered who this woman was to be taking charge of his well being and managing his affairs. A maid who he had found on the roadside in a state of her own helplessness. But rather than feel aggravated, he was surprised to find himself feeling grateful, comforted, even impressed. Sophie was clearly determined to take care of him and he somehow felt that so long as he was with her, everything would be alright. She obviously had a good head on her shoulders to think to call a carriage. How curious that when they had met hours earlier, he had intended to look after her and see her safely delivered to her destination and now the tables had turned completely.

Perplexed, amused, and completely drained, he nodded, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile, “Thank you, Miss Beckett.” His eyes closed. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

Sophie sighed, glad that he was on the other side of danger. The light in the room was starting to lift and grey. She went back to her room and sank into the luxurious bed, happily returning to sleep for a few precious hours before she would have to say goodbye for the last time.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm

[sonosvegliato]

asking you because i seriously consider u one of the best writers i have. read? known exists? anyways im asking how much do u plan when u write? ik uve talked abt ur process (v funny i love how ur mind works id love to poke around [affectionately]) but like. how much do u Plan in Advance? ive been sitting on some ideas for a while and im trying to think down to the SLIGHTEST things and im jus v curious as to? how much you think abt urs b4 sitting down2 write?

I am glad you think I am funny because I think I am funny too.

(Haha but for real I literally jumped into the air. Thank you!)

Here is where I get shifty because I am not an artist, I never have been, I have never quite gotten a handle on the patience required to color inside the lines. Likewise...I am not a plotter.

In general, an Idea Arrives, and then I sit down and write. A lot of the time it starts out as a scene I'd like to read, and I write that scene for 20 minutes or two hours, and after that I roll the dice in the air. If I poke around it long enough, I am morally required to construct everything that had to happen to get me to the Inciting Scene. My favorite thing to write is dialogue, and to convey how someone said something/why they said it, then I have to know the characters a little more. Sort of like eavesdropping on a conversation, and then getting to know a stranger from it.

I have never plotted anything start to finish. I normally have an end or something close to the end, a few enticing snippets, and that's my map. I don't finish original work too often, but it's not abandoned, it's just reworked, reworked, reworked. I have a friend that has original work that won a big well known editing/pitch contest and now has her work in the Query Trenches, and if she was the writing FBI she would lock me in jail for disorderly conduct and missing plotting documents. She says I should try to at least write a first draft through and let that be my guide, but I'm like. Nah. I start a story and I keep writing it and backtracking and rewriting and backtracking and rewriting, but theoretically at the end I have a story I'm satisfied with--- and not a draft I thought was bad a quarter of the way in but kept mudslogging through it. It's not losing progress, it's just rerouting yourself the longer way home so you avoid future traffic.

"Kill your darlings" is a very famous piece of writing advice, and when I was starting out I thought it meant, like, literally killing your characters for the Drama. Now I understand it as if there's a scene I really like or really want to include...sometimes she just has to get sidelined. And that's okay. We can harvest her organs for later. Frankenstein that bitch.

Fanfiction is different. It's fun and loose and I entertain myself. Now you will not swell the rout was a bit more thoughtfully done, that is, I spent more time on it than just being awake at midnight because I thought of something funny. It was not plotted. I didn't know the story was there. I missed martial arts, and then happened to listen in on a conversation about the poem "To an Athlete Dying Young" (A.E. Housman). I didn't come up with Now you will not swell the rout as a fully-fleshed story then, I just added onto a snippet (literally the first three little paragraphs) and stuff connected and then two weeks went by in a mad haze and I had 30,000 words or whatever it was. After that, I've spoken previously that in hold the low lintel up (and now WIP#3) had some "plot" which are events in the comics I want to include, but I think that is more worldbuilding/keeping somewhat adjacent to the source material. Everything original is just up in my head or stored in a random line I want to remember to use later.

(Literally my "plot" bookmark in my google doc is Plot hey here’s a good line and then I proceed to write one very good sentence and seven disembodied dialogue fragments that don't belong together at all).

In the spirit of honesty, I wrote the last line of Now you will not swell the rout and that was supposed to be it. But the fic had such a lovely reception, and I really felt like I grew while I wrote it, and like look there was one big glaring unanswered question just sitting there, right, so. Now I have a series. And 100% of the reason I'm not uploading chapter by chapter is because I know I am not a plotter, I know I'll change things, and I really want to take my time with this and use it as experience for my original work.

So that was way more than you probably meant to ask for, but. In sum: no, I don't plan in advance, I just take a stab and commit literary medical malpractice. Some writing books will have whole sections on plotting, and will have you detail your characters' birthdate, favorite song, food, music, what's the name of their first dog, etc. A lot of people have to have that solid basis ("organization" my writer friend calls it, pfft). I know, personally, that if I go down that rabbit hole I will not get anything done. I will get stuck.

So if you are honest with yourself and won't get stuck making the ideal macaroni map, send plotting advice for the rest of us homies out there ✌️

SVEG OUT

[00katrinka00]

Not A Love Story Update #3

Over the course of the next week, Ainsley and Garreth met a few more times to work on their project. The deadline for the first 5 chapters was here. Despite this, Ainsley felt like they were in a good spot with their writing, so she wasn't too worried as she and Jae took their seats that morning.

"How are you feeling about your project?" Ainsley asked Jae as they waited for class to begin. "How much more do you have to do?" "We have a ways to go, but it'll get finished. I work best under pressure anyways. What about you and Garreth?" "We're basically done, only a few edits left." "Nice!"

"So, I don't usually do this," Professor Singh said as he started class. "But I didn't feel like creating a lesson plan for today, and since the first 5 chapters of your writing project are due at midnight tonight I'm giving you and your partners the class period to work, so happy writing I guess."

Ainsley decided to switch seats so she was next to Garreth in order to work together a bit more efficiently. "We shouldn't have much more to do," she said as she sat down. "When I looked last night it was basically complete." "Uh-huh," Garreth muttered as he continued to type away on his laptop.

"What are you doing?" Ainsley asked. Garreth didn't respond, he just continued to type. "Seriously Garreth, is it our project or another assignment?" After he still refused to respond Ainsley peaked over his shoulder to find him rewriting everything they'd spent the last week and a half working on.

Ainsley pulled out her own laptop to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her. Sure enough, she watched as Garreth changed everything on their shared document. "What are you doing, I wrote that!" she exclaimed in anger. Garreth continued to type. Ainsley tried to revert the edits back to no avail.

Finally, he turned to her. "Look," Garreth began to explain. "Our writing styles are so different it made the whole piece sound disjointed. I think it would sound better if it were in one coherent voice. All your ideas are there. The whole piece sounds smoother now." "I worked hard on that, though."

Ainsley tried again to add her words back into the document, but Garreth just deleted them. "This is so unfair, you're only changing the stuff I worked on." "You said it yourself, fantasy is my preferred genre," he pointed out. "I wanted you to help me improve my fantasy writing, not erase my work."

Try as she might, nothing Ainsley added was kept by Garreth who just continued to delete everything she wrote. Feeling defeated, Ainsley sat back in her chair, arms crossed, and just watched Garreth make edits for the rest of the class period. She wasn't stressed before, but she sure was now.

After class, Ainsley and Jae made their way to the student lounge. "I can't believe that man," Ainsley complained. This early in the day few students used the lounge. "I was actually excited to be partnered with him, because he is a good writer, but he just keeps making everything so difficult."

"I don't know what to say," Jae tried to offer advice. "You could talk to Professor Singh, say that you can't work with him. He might understand." "We're adults though, and should figure it out ourselves," Ainsley pointed out. "I don't understand why he doesn't like me. I haven't done anything."

"Hey girlies," chimed Isa as she came breezing though the door. "How are your projects?" "Mine's fine, Ainsley's is a bit rocky," Jae said "Is it Garreth?" Isa asked, Ainsley didn't respond. "He's always been like that, thinking he's better than everyone. It's one of the reasons I broke up with him"

"There's a reason all the freshman started calling him grumpy Garreth last year," Jae pointed out. "I don't think-" began Ainsley, but Isa cut her off. "Yeah," Isa nodded. "He might have the best grades out of all the seniors in the department, but year he's an asshole. So glad I'm done with him."

There was something off putting to Ainsley, about the way Isa just breezed into the room and immediately began talking badly about Garreth. Sure, Ainsley wasn't his biggest fan at the moment, but she wasn't about to start shit talking her writing partner. All she really wanted were answers from him

Answers were not something Ainsley received. As Friday rolled around, she hadn't actually spoken much with Garreth other than making the decision to wait for their grade to come back before starting on the next part of their project. So, as class began Ainsley poured herself into her notes.

"Alright," Professor Singh said. "I'd say this concludes class for the day. I did scheduled grades to be posted at the end of lecture today, so take a look whenever. If you have questions you can meet with me in my office." Upon hearing the news, Garreth immediately went to pull up his grades.

"How'd you do?" "Not too bad, we got a B," answered Jae. "Considering we really didn't start until the day it was due, I'm pretty happy. What do you think you got?" "I don't even want to know at this point," Ainsley admitted at the same moment a strangled noise came from the seat ahead of her.

Garreth couldn't believe his eyes as he stared blankly at the bright red F that flashed at him on the screen. This couldn't be possible. He'd never gotten an F on anything ever, not once in the entirety of his life. He couldn't fathom how this had even happened, his writing was good, really good.

"What is it?" Ainsley asked. She quickly got up and stood behind Garreth, peering over his shoulder at his computer screen. "I swear I submitted it," Garreth told her. "I don't know what happened." Ainsley scoffed, "I do. You erased all my work." "Excuse me?" "It's true, you did and now we failed."

"There has to be a mistake. There's no way it got an F. I've never gotten an F before." "I'd say neither have I, but it's your work you submitted not mine," Ainsley told him, she could have sworn she heard Isa's laugh from the row behind. "This has to be a mistake, it has to be." "Whatever you say."

As professor Singh made his way to leave, both Ainsley and Garreth got up to follow him. "We can ask if there's any kind of extra credit we can do to make the grade back up," Ainsley explained "We didn't fail, this has to be a mistake. He mixed our grade with someone else's" Ainsley rolled her eyes.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you both in here," Professor Singh drawled. "What can I do for you?" "You gave us the wrong grade," Garreth told him. "Did I now?" Singh asked amused. "Mixed our grade with someone else's or-" "Garreth, I assure you I didn't mix the grades up. You did in fact fail."

"I- what?" Garreth asked dumbfounded "I've been reading your writing for years, and you think I wouldn't notice that the entire project was written in your voice Garreth? A few ideas I know only Ainsley would have thrown out, sure, but the bulk of the writing was yours Garreth, not Ainsley's yours."

"Our writing styles are too different," Garreth tried to explain. "It didn't sound cohesive, so I kept Ainsley's ideas but we agreed-" Ainsley cut him off, "You agreed." "Fine, I decided it would sound better written in only one voice. You have to understand where I'm coming from Professor Singh."

"I understand you two have different writing styles, that's part of why I paired you both" Singh explained. "You're both talented. I wanted you to challenge one another. Find a way to combine your differing voices into one unique voice" "Is there anything we can do?" Ainsley asked. "About the grade"

"I will give you until 6am tomorrow to re-write your project, and re-submit it for full credit," Singh told them. "If it gets submitted any later you'll get half credit." "That's less than 24 hours," Garreth exclaimed. "I'm being lenient for you Mr. White," Singh bit out. "Thank you," Ainsley said.

Tail between their legs, Ainsley and Garreth headed to the student lounge after their conversation with Singh. "When are you done today, with class?" Garreth bit out. "3pm," answered Ainsley. "I can meet you here when you're done and we can head to my place and work on the re-write." "Works for me."

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 1

Summary: Coming home from college for the summer, you expected your days to be spent reading in your bedroom and sitting through tense family dinners- but an old acquaintance had something else in mind for you.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author’s Note: I tried to write something new but I’m in a megafunk so I decided to just rewrite and improve upon an old series, it’s full official title is Only the Good Die Young 2: Electric Boogaloo (Die Harder). Yes this series has an underlying Billy Joel theme please don't ask me why because I do not know, I was obviously working through something 3 years ago.

---

‘Y/n! You look… healthy.'

Those were your mother’s first words as you walked through the door of your family home. She didn't exclaim how pleased she was to see you or ask how your flight was, no, instead she used her typical passive-aggressive euphemisms to subtly comment on your appearance.

This was going to be a long summer.

Initially you'd been adamant about staying in your apartment for the holidays, even on your own, cause all you wanted was peace and space. Then your parents threatened to cut you off if you didn’t come home so, here you were. You sighed and traipsed upstairs. Approaching your bedroom, you saw the bolt haphazardly screwed to the outside of the door, the one your father had installed years ago after catching you watching ‘ungodly’ TV shows in the living room at midnight.

Ah, coming back here always felt like plunging yourself back into the deep, ice-cold pool of childhood trauma.

Pushing the door open, you saw that your room had been redecorated. It looked fucking dreadful. You glanced up at the wall and a little bit of sick shot up the back of your throat when you saw the WWJD cross stitch, one of your mother's originals no doubt.

...a long, long summer.

—

Your first errand was grocery shopping. Typical of your parents to insist on you coming home for 'family time', only to then hand you a three-page chore list, the majority of which required you to leave the house. You took your time wandering around the store, making the most of your temporary freedom. Even obnoxiously bright fluorescent lighting and the sickly smell of cleaning products was preferable to that crucifix-coated prison.

Eventually you made it to the checkout and started unloading the cheap wine and raisin snacks onto the conveyor belt. The cashier offered the usual pleasantries but you found yourself distracted, wondering where the billows of smoke blowing past the front window were coming from. You tilted your head, trying vaguely to catch a glimpse of the cause, but soon got distracted as you had to try and recall your mom's PIN number.

Stepping outside with arms full of grocery bags, your eyes followed the smoke downwind. Mystery solved. Huddled on the corner of the sidewalk was a pretty big group of guys in leather jackets, most of them with cigarettes balanced between their fingers. It was a pretty intimidating sight. Usually you'd just avoid such an obstacle, crossing the road or just heading in an altogether different direction, but they'd managed to plant themselves directly in your only feasible path home. You just kept your head down, gripped your grocery bags tight and gave them a wide berth.

Your heart almost stopped when you heard one of them pipe up.

'Well holy shit, y/n?’

You turned towards the voice. James Barnes. The two of you went to high school together but, apart from the occasional stilted conversation and reluctant group project, you’d never really developed any sort of relationship. Besides, he always hung out with people your mother didn’t approve of.

And he was what, now? In a motorcycle gang? Figures.

'Hi, James. Good to see you.’ You mumbled, breaking stride momentarily. His friends seemed to find that funny.

'You too but, uh, people call me Bucky now.'

Nodding slightly, you gave him a polite smile before moving off again. You noticed your face beginning to feel warm and your stomach involuntarily tensing. Sure, he was more handsome and less punchable than you remembered, but you had no idea why being in his presence was making you this nervous. Hurried footsteps sounded behind you and in a second he was by your side, his stride syncing up with yours.

'You moving back to town?’

'No, just visiting for the summer.’

'Staying with your parents?'

'Mhmm.'

‘They still religious nut-jobs?’

You stopped and snapped your head round, in complete shock at the brazenness of his questioning.

'I’ll take that as a yes.’ Without taking his eyes off you he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, placed one between his lips and lit it. ‘Guessing you won’t be having much fun this summer then.’

'Not your kind of fun.'

He scoffed slightly at that, his face changing into something resembling pity. ‘Man, you Catholic girls start much too late.’

‘I don’t think I asked for your opinion, James.’ Your words came out much softer than you anticipated, barely a mumble. Not the kind of back-off-or-else warning you were aiming for. He was really getting under your skin.

'You didn’t, but I’ll give you another.’  

You raised an eyebrow, watching him blow a cloud of smoke over your head, your stomach now contorted into a tight knot. Against your better judgement you waited for him to carry on.

‘I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,’ he stepped closer, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, 'cause the sinners are much more fun.’

—

You dropped the shopping on the counter. The whole way home you hadn’t been able to get James Barnes out of your head, hadn’t been able to stop picturing his smirk or imagining his warm breath on your ear. For some reason you wanted to know more about him, wanted to find out what kind of reputation he'd made for himself while you'd been away, and if anyone had information it’d be your mother. She knew everything about everyone in this godforsaken town. Sitting down for dinner, you seized your opportunity.

'I saw James Barnes at the grocery store today.’

She abruptly dropped her knife and it hit her plate with a sharp clang, making you jump.

'You stay away from that boy,’ she punctuated the words with her fork, which was pointed directly between your eyes, 'he’s trouble. Him and his gang.’

You hated the way she spoke to you sometimes, like you were a child.

'He seemed nice enough.’

‘That’s how it starts,’ your father piped up, ‘then before you know it he’s got you hooked on drugs, living in a trailer, pregnant with his deviant child.’

'Amen.'

And that was the end of that conversation. Your father didn't say much but, whenever he did speak, your mother responded to his slow, dreary words like he was reading a new passage from the gospel. One thing you'd never wanted for yourself was a relationship like theirs, a loveless, bitter husk of a marriage with a biblical power imbalance and nothing left to say to each other. It was terrifying to think that you used to model yourself on them. They had you completely brainwashed before you left for college and, even now, some of their intrusive religious dogma still lingered in your subconscious.

You excused yourself upstairs as soon as dinner was cleared up, ready for your first day back in this hell-hole to be over.

—

Sunday. The priest had been droning on for god knows how long but you'd given up concentrating, his dull voice beginning to sound like a janky old extractor fan whirring behind the altar. You stood, sat, stood, kneeled and sat along with everyone else, singing and praying whenever prompted. This, every Sunday for ten weeks, was going to be torture.

It must've been a couple hours into the service when you felt yourself nodding off. Your shoulders relaxed and your head suddenly felt too heavy to be held up by your neck, you'd barely slept on your mother's concrete mattress the night before and this pew felt heavenly soft in comparison. Just as your eyes started to flutter closed, something startled you. It startled the whole congregation. The droning from the altar stopped and heads turned towards the door, where the disturbance seemed to be coming from. It sounded like a shuddering motorbike engine. Then another joined. In a couple of seconds the entire church was filled with an echoing cacophony of backfiring engines. Someone at the back stood up and ran to the door. There was some shouting and laughing before the noise eventually began to move away, fading into the distance. Looking around, you saw a sea of indignant and sour faces, a thick tension hovering in the air.

‘And that,’ your mother hissed through clenched teeth, ‘is why you don’t go near James Barnes and his friends.’

You had to suck in your cheeks to smother your laughter, nodding insincerely at her words. James’ voice echoed in your head…

The sinners are much more fun.

—

A few days had passed since the biker-blasphemy incident but you were still struggling to shake off James Barnes. You never thought you'd be one of those people who fawned after someone so obviously bad for them, you liked to think you were more sensible- but here you were.

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time before heading out. It'd been years since you had to conceal your actual outfit under the Amish garb your father insisted on you wearing but, by now, you were a natural at it. Once you'd broken free from your parents' Jesus programming you'd developed a great number of secretive techniques that allowed you to lead a semi-normal life without their knowledge, it was just depressing that you were having to employ them again this many years later.  

Your friend broke into hysterics when she opened the door and spotted the Yahtzee your mother had stuffed under your arm as you stepped out her front door.

'Is that your cover for the evening?'

'Yep,' you unceremoniously dropped the box in the hallway, 'I figured board game night at Ray's house sounded better than sloppy degenerate party at Ray's house.'

'I know which I'd prefer to be at.'

You smiled, embracing your old friend in a tight hug. 'I just gotta go de-Christian in the bathroom.'

'Is your dad seriously still telling you what to wear?' You nodded at her, rolling your eyes. 'Jesus Christ.'

'Don't get me started on that asshole.'

You stashed your bag of ugly rags alongside your mom's Yahtzee and began wandering from room to room, checking if there was anyone else there you recognised. Nope. Usually you'd just sip some liquid courage and start introducing yourself to anyone who looked friendly, but you knew if your parents smelled even a whiff of alcohol you’d be locked inside all summer, so you just skulked to the kitchen and opened a can of diet coke.

Just as you were beginning to question your decision to attend a house party stone-cold sober, there was a hard tap on your shoulder. You spun round to see James Barnes’ stupid wide grin.

‘Hey there, Church Mouse.’

‘James.’

Being nonchalant seemed the best approach here. You convinced yourself that you were just being intentionally aloof and sexy but, in reality, your parents' words had sunk deeper into your subconscious than you'd ever care to admit. Your wild attraction to this guy still wasn't enough to outweigh the suspicion they'd distilled in you.

'You enjoy your church service on Sunday?' James brought his beer bottle to his lips, smirking around it as he took a sip. 'Heard it was a rager.'

‘Would've been over a lot quicker without your interruption, you make a habit of pissing off strangers for fun?’

‘Nope. Just thought it’d be nice to welcome you home.’

Oh, that whole thing had been for your benefit? Interesting.

Your stomach started to flutter. A light tingle slowly made its way down your spine as you tried desperately to figure out whether he was genuinely trying to show some kind of vague interest or whether he was just mocking you, or even flirting with you for a bet. Your eyes searched his for any hints, your mind was racing faster and faster and you started to panic as you realised that you'd been standing there staring blankly at him for far too long.

‘You don't think it was a little obnoxious?'

‘Ah y’know,’ he leant against the counter, folding his arms, still grinning at you, 'we were just having fun, didn't hurt no one.’

You glanced away for a second in an attempt to smother any kind of smile, but he then bit his lip slightly and your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest. There was a second of lingering silence between the two of you, broken only by your embarrassingly loud gulp as he pushed himself away from the counter, took a swift step towards you and jutted his hand past your waist. His face was hovering no more than a couple inches away from yours. There was a quiet clink as he picked up a fresh bottle of beer from the surface behind you, a faint whisper slipping through his lips before he moved away.

‘Call me Bucky.’

A few hours passed, you'd built up the courage to chat to a few people but all the other guests were now reaching the point of drunken incoherence. It wasn't long before you decided you were no longer having a good time. After trudging around for ten minutes trying to find Ray, who turned out to be blowing chunks in the upstairs bathroom, you decided that a sneaky exit through the back door was the best course of action. You could always just gaslight her into believing she was too drunk to remember your emotional, prolonged farewell.

The glass patio door slid open and closed subtly enough but, while you were so busy focusing on not getting spotted, your clumsy ass managed to unceremoniously trample over someone’s feet.

James.

Of course it was. Brilliant.

He was finishing off a cigarette, his amused face fixed on yours as you gracelessly righted yourself. Laughing to himself, he held out the pack to you, but you shook your head.

‘Leaving so soon?’

‘Yeah, not much fun being the only sober person in the room.'

'So have a drink.' He shrugged before clocking your gloomy expression. 'Ah, I get it. Where'd they think you are?'

'Board games night.'

A deep chuckle vibrated through the still night air as he crushed his cigarette butt under his boot. 'That probably would'a been more fun than this mess.'

He nodded slightly, gesturing over your shoulder; you looked back through the glass to see two girls lying on their backs, trying to drink from beer bottles they were holding between their feet.

'Fair point.'

‘So, you wanna go somewhere else?’

Your heart stuttered at his question. You struggled to form a reply, gazing at him wide-eyed. 'I don't- I mean-'

'S'alright, I know the deal,' his arms folded across his chest, 'your mom told you all I could give you was a reputation, right?’

'Something like that.'

'Well, I wouldn't mind proving her wrong, if you'd let me.'

You couldn’t hold back your smile any longer, his eyes lighting up when he spotted it. Shrugging faintly, you scurried around trying to find something witty and attractive to say, something other than I think I might fucking love you.

'How about another time? I should really get home.'

A smirk dawned in the corner of his mouth, you couldn't tell if he was onto you or if he was just always this laid-back. The dull thunk of boots against patio brought his face intimately close to yours once more.

‘Come out with me tomorrow.’

---

Part 2

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[bi-bard]

I Just May Like Some Explanations - Dick Grayson Imagine (HBO's Titans)

Title: I Just May Like Some Explanations

Pairing: Dick Grayson X Reader

Based On: Question...?

Word Count: 1,484 words

Warning(s): mention of abandonment/shitty dad/human experimentation

Summary: (Season 1) Dick shows up on (Y/n)'s doorstep with no warning. (Y/n) hopes that- even after so long- Dick can understand why (Y/n) doesn't welcome him back with open arms.

Author's Note: Fun fact, back in like the seventh grade, I was assigned to rewrite the end of The Giver for an English class. Meaning that my first (or one of my first) piece(s) of fanfiction was technically about one of Brenton Thwaites's characters. Extra funny because Taylor Swift was also in that movie.

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

-------------------------

Dick had a lot of nerve showing up at my door with no warning.

That was my first thought.

And then, my attention turned to the girl standing next to him. She had her arms crossed and was clearly uneasy. But whether that was me or just the new situation was up for debate.

"Hey," Dick greeted. "This is Rachel. I thought you could help her."

"Nice apology, Grayson," I replied.

Rachel looked at him, but he kept his eyes focused on me.

I stepped back and let them both in.

"Who are you," Rachel asked.

"You dragged a young kid to my door and didn't tell her who I was?" I looked at Dick again.

"I didn't exactly have time," he tried to explain.

"(Y/n)," I held out a hand to Rachel. She shook it. I watched a look of shock cross her face. "What'd you see?"

"What," she asked, pulling her hand away from mine.

"What did you see just then," I repeated.

"I... I don't know... a... like a surgery room with knives and needles and stuff..."

Dick tried to explain before I could, about to mutter something to her.

"My dad," I cut him off. "He was... into experiments."

I motioned to myself.

Think of a vampire. Not so much a "Twilight" vampire, but a decently scary one. Claws, sharp teeth, eyes that didn't look quite right. Things I had no power over and couldn't quite hide without feeling like everyone could see right through me.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be," I shrugged. "Not your fault. I've accepted it."

She just nodded.

"So... why are you convinced that I'd be so helpful," I looked back to Dick.

"I'm a freak," Rachel jumped in.

"Same," I replied. "What powers did you get stuck with? Besides the memory access."

She hesitated.

"Go sit down," I nodded toward my little dining table. "I'll get you something to eat and drink."

The pair of them sat down and waited as I went around my kitchen. I grabbed some water and a little bag of chips for Rachel. After giving that stuff to them, I plopped into the seat across from her.

"My dad had a fixation with vampires," I started. My goal was to make her more comfortable. To let her know that no one was going to judge her. "The more traditional stuff, for the most part. I got the speed, the strength, the physical... attributes. I just didn't get all the little weaknesses. He thought the wooden stake thing was ridiculous."

There was a pause.

"Oh, I also got the bloodlust. Forgot about that," I pointed out. "I got control over that though."

"How," Rachel asked.

"Self-control work," I shrugged. "Took me years. Had to start with my day-to-day life. Mere exposure to people would drive me crazy. I still can't work in something like an office space without getting a gnawing in my stomach."

She looked to Dick.

"You two are safe," I promised.

Dick just nodded.

"He would know," I smirked a bit. "He's been closer to me than anyone else has."

He just looked at me, but I heard Rachel chuckle. I just shrugged at him. It was true.

"Big emotions were next," I continued. "Anger and fear and adrenaline. I had to learn to calm myself and pull my punches."

She leaned forward on the table a bit. Must've been what most of her trouble was revolving around.

The rest of the day was spent with Rachel talking to me. It was slow at first, but she was opening up. She described moments in her life and what she knew. The last few days of her life had been Hell.

That night, I let her use my bed.

I pulled the door shut and saw Dick by the window. He was looking out at Gotham.

"You can take the couch if you want," I said. He looked at me for a moment. "Rachel's all set and I'll figure something out."

He just nodded, looking back out at the skyline.

"First time you've seen it in a while," I asked as I walked over to stand next to him.

"Since I moved," he replied.

I nodded. "Still with Dawn?"

"(Y/n)-"

"You really expect me not to ask," I looked at him. "You ran for the hills before I got any answers."

"I'm not," he said. "Haven't talked to her since I left."

"Oh, so you just ran from all of your problems?"

"Listen-"

"No, no, I have questions, Dick. Good questions. I deserve more than just excuses or avoidance."

He finally looked back at me.

I don't know what clicked or sunk in, but his face softened as soon as he did.

"What do you want to know," he asked.

"Why'd you leave?"

"Bruce," he answered simply. "I needed to go."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm an idiot," he shrugged. I scoffed. "I didn't want you to feel like you needed to follow me or something. Gotham was your home. You kept talking about finally feeling comfortable. I didn't want to steal that."

"You were a huge part of that, Dick," I muttered.

"I did call myself an idiot for a reason."

There was a pause before I could force the next question out, "Did you love me?"

"Yes."

It was the fastest answer. It didn't have any follow-up explanation or anything.

"Then, why did you sleep with Dawn?"

"Because I'm an idiot," he repeated. "I... I can't make an excuse for it. It was just me being stupid and selfish and... that's all there is to it."

I was surprised that I wasn't still angry. I expected to want to kick him out. Scream, hit... anything really.

But I wasn't.

I almost felt blank. Like my mind couldn't decide how I wanted to react to anything around me.

I looked down for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he added. "For everything. I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Did you... Did you think about me," I muttered. "After you left?"

He walked over to me. I moved to rest my back against the wall next to the door. He stood in front of me.

"All the time," he replied.

I glanced away, my jaw clenching as I thought about all the time that I missed.

"You... You were the first person to make me feel like I didn't need to be ashamed of what had happened to me," I said. "It... It felt like you were running from me. Like I had finally pushed you too far. I... I just-"

Dick pulled me into a hug as my voice trailed off. His hand ran up and down my spine. I slowly hugged him back, letting my eyes shut as I did.

He leaned back a few moments later. He stopped a few inches away from me. I let my eyes truly scan every part of his face. I was actually seeing how he had changed since he had left Gotham. It wasn't much. Just aging. It still made me feel like I had missed out on so much.

I was caught off-guard when Dick pressed his lips to mine. My back was pressed into the wall as he kissed me. Like he was trying to test the waters.

I knew it was a bad idea.

I shouldn't have entertained the kiss.

But I had missed this. I missed feeling something... normal.

So I let him kiss me. And I kissed him back. Slowly. It was all so gentle. Hesitant. We were both so clearly nervous about something. It had been so long since I had felt that little pull from in my chest. The longing. The wanting.

Dick stepped closer as he got more comfortable. My back got pressed a little harder into the wall. That seemed to snap me out of whatever trance I had fallen into.

I turned my head to the side, causing Dick's lips to find my cheek. He leaned his forehead against my head, not pushing me to kiss him again.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Sorry."

He leaned back fully.

"I... I just can't... I can't jump back into... this," I muttered. "I... I want to help with Rachel, but that's... that's all I can do."

"Okay," he nodded.

I stepped out of the space between him and the wall.

"You should get some rest. I'm... I'm gonna... I don't know. I'll figure something out."

"Please be careful," he called as I walked away.

"Always am," I replied. I paused for a moment before speaking again, "Welcome home, Dick."

He grinned at me. I grinned back before continuing to walk away.

I knew it was going to take time to adjust to being around him again.

But I would be lying if I said that seeing him again didn't give me just a little bit of hope.

That was enough for me... for now, at least.

-------------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[mikaharuka]

Apricity, Chapter 14 - Midnight Freefall

It just occurred to me that I never made a formal post for my fic *or* my fic chapters. I'm not too worried about the earlier chapters, but since I *did* release this chapter a week ago, I figured I'd start here, then make formal posts for everything going forward. I'll make the official fic post eventually...

Since this is the first Apricity chapter post, I'll note a few things about the fic and series as a whole. If you're familiar, you can jump to the end of the post. If you are new, I strongly suggest starting with Platinum Elysium (chapter 1) and working your way forward, after you've reviewed the notes below.

-

The greater Winter Light series is a crossover between Twilight and Life and Death. From Life and Death, I pulled Beau, Jessamine (Mina), Eleanor (Elle), and Julie most notably, but others will show up. Most everyone else is sourced from Twilight.

I uprooted almost everything and created a new framework from scratch, including worldbuilding, lore, world history, character traits and dynamics, various backstories, vampire biology/society, magic system, and general guiding principles. The most notable examples of this include human blood vampires (it is not possible to subsist on animal blood in the WL verse); many character backstories; making Carlisle an older brother (I never understood the paternal-figure thing, even in cishet canon); and certain character personalities (most notably Edward and Mike, but others are affected too).

In short... Apricity is a Twilight series rewrite, except I threw out ~98% of canon, opted out of the main canon pair (I kept Rose/Elle and Alice/Mina, but used Carlisle/Beau and Edward/Mike instead), leaned more into vampire and Eastern themes, and went full gay. Seriously. The entire WL series can be read fandom-blind, as a result of these changes.

This fic is the first of many to come, in the WL series. I strongly recommend you review the Platinum Elysium (Chapter 1) A/N for more info.

-

Fic: Apricity

Chapter: Midnight Freefall (14)

Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Mike carefully navigates himself through a sticky situation, carries himself through an awkward conversation, holds his ground against a bizarre unknown, and will there ever be an end in sight to this no good, very bad, extremely weird day (and part of the night)???

Notes: The last part of that summary was coined by the wonderful @udaberriwrites (go check her out!), and she's also helped me quite a bit as a sounding board for my ramblings... so thanks for everything!

[stormcrawler75]

Blood of the Sea Part One

Summary: Virgil leaves his parents behind as he sets out to the one place he remembered feeling safe at. Little does he know, there’s a study going on at that sanctuary. And he just became part of it.

Notes: . . . Hey, guys! I’m still alive and posting TS. Just taken over by the MHA bug. I’ll reblog this with my taglist once I find it, promise. This is the spiritual rewrite to A New Kind of Experiment. Not a Rewrite really but definitely influenced by it. Updates will be slow but they’ll be there. Hope you like it!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The moon was high and full on the night that Virgil crept out of his bedroom with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and his father’s car keys gripped tightly in his hand. It was a good thing that it was. It helped him walked down the hallways without tripping on anything and alerting his parents to what he was doing. It would be hard to explain what exactly he was doing at midnight with a bag full of clothes, money, and pieces of pizza stuffed into a container. It would be even harder to explain what he was doing with the keys to his father’s prized Acura.

Not that Virgil really had an explanation other than he was scared and needed to leave. He knew that after the conversation with his dad the other day that he couldn’t stay until it was time to go to College. Virgil wasn’t sure that his heart could take it.

He vividly remembered the tense, one sided conversation that had taken place just a few days earlier. Virgil had sat in the kitchen and listened with a blank stare as his father laid out exactly what would happen if he ever disrespected him again. He knew even then that he couldn’t wait the two months until College started. It was time for him to leave.

A part of Virgil thought that he might be blowing this entire thing out of proportion, but he knew that he wasn’t. His father had never made empty threats before and Virgil really doubted that he was going to start now. It was time for Virgil to leave. Unknown to his father, his college tuition was already paid for and, thanks to his Uncle Janus, he had a place to stay. He just needed a place to stay for the two weeks until his Uncle could come pick him up. Virgil couldn’t exactly bring a stolen car to his Uncle’s house. His Father would blame Uncle Janus for everything just like he always did, and Virgil would be brought right back to square one.

Virgil winced as the stairs creaked and he paused, only relaxing when he heard the sounds of his father snoring. He kept walking until he got to the front door, carefully and quietly opening it. Virgil closed the door behind him, letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding until just then. Hopefully things would be easy from here on out.

Virgil quietly snorted. Who the hell did he think that he was? His father? He had the blood of the sea in him, just like his Uncle, and nothing ever came easy to those with the blood of the sea.

Virgil thought back to the memory where he had learnt about the blood of the sea. His uncle Janus had taken him out for fishing when he was just a toddler and before Virgil’s parents had cut him out of their and Virgil’s, lives outside of polite Holiday phone calls. Virgil had gripped his Uncle’s best rod, Uncle Janus behind him with his hands pressed over Virgil’s and reeled in a cod. Though, Virgil thought back in amusement, it had been more of his Uncle’s catch than his. But that wasn’t what his Uncle had claimed.

“Would you look at that,” Uncle Janus had laughed, grinning down at the toddler proudly. He ruffled Virgil’s hair with one hand, holding up the cod with the other and showing it off to the family who was having a beach day. “My little nephew caught himself a cod, first try! I knew I wasn’t the only one with the blood of the sea in me, Virgil. You’ll be allowed out on the boat with me in no time, won’t he,” he asked, directing the question to Virgil’s mother who had been nursing a glass of wine.

“Oh, I think he’s a bit young for that,” she had said dismissively, offering a placid smile. She looked away from him, seemingly having given up all of her energy to care. “He doesn’t even know how to swim. And I don’t want you teaching him either,” she said firmly. “He’s not ready for that.”

Uncle Janus glanced down at Virgil and winked, like they were two men sharing a secret and not Uncle and nephew. “She doesn’t understand one bit, Virgil, my boy. She doesn’t have the blood of the sea in her. Not like you and me. Just wait until you’re older.”

“What does that mean,” Virgil asked softly, reaching up to tug at his Uncle’s sleeve. “What’s blood of the sea?”

Uncle Janus grinned, crouching down in front of him, his scar crinkling a little with the movement. “It means that we were descended from the people of Atlantis,” he stage whispered, making Virgil’s eyes go wide. He laughed and grinned. “Your father has it too but,” he rolled his eyes, “my older brother doesn’t believe in all of that.”

“The people of Atlantis drowned, Janus,” his father huffed from his place on the docks, rolling his eyes. He took a long drink of beer before calling, “You better not be filling my boy’s head with nonsense about Atlantis and mermaids.”

Virgil gasped softly, standing on his toes. “Mermaids?”

Janus smirked, calling back to his brother, “Not all of them drowned, Ajax. And they’re not all mermaids, Virgil. There are men down there too. But we share the blood of the people of Atlantis. If our ancestors didn’t leave the city in time, we’d be down there with the rest of them.”

His father sighed, waving Virgil over. “Stop listening to all of that, Virgil. Atlantis isn’t real and neither are mermaids. Come sit with me.”

“But-“

His father’s voice hardened, turning unyielding. “Now, Virgil.”

Virgil left his Uncle’s side and went to sit by his father. He smiled though when his Uncle whispered, “I’ll tell you more later.”

That was the last time that he had talked to his Uncle face to face.

Virgil didn’t believe in mermaids. He didn’t believe in any drowned city. But he did believe in good luck and knowing when it was time to leave, just like his ancestors. He wasn’t about to drown under his parents’ influence. He was the blood of the sea and it was time to swim.

Virgil opened the back door of the Acura, tossing the duffle bag into it quietly. There was two other duffle bags and a computer bag that he had snuck out there after dinner. He slipped into the front seat and winced as he slid the keys into the slot and turned on the engine. He waited for the longest moment of his life and when he didn’t see any lights turning on in the house, he slowly drove down the driveway. Within minutes, he was on the highway and driving away from his house. His former house.

Virgil let out a long breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He didn’t think that he was going to relax completely until he was far away from the city. He could drop the car off at a garage not too far out and then he’d catch the bus. It helped that Virgil knew exactly where he was going too. He might not have a plan, but he had a place to lay low until he thought of one.

He didn’t even turn on the radio, too afraid of drawing any attention to himself. Virgil was too anxious for that. He stayed on the right side of the speed limit, knowing that he was screwed if a police officer pulled him over for speeding. The ride to the garage was tense and quiet, Virgil gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He pulled into the parking lot of the garage, pulling his hood over his face to keep it hidden. Not that it really mattered. His parents would know exactly who had stolen the car. Whether they’d care to report  it was another matter entirely. His mother would swoon at the very thought. 

Imagine what the neighbours might say!

Virgil wasn’t sure if all of this secrecy was really necessary. Would his parents really care if he left? A major part of him thought that they were just going to wash their hands of him but a small part of him almost wished that they would care. That they’d come looking for him to bring him home. It was just a pipe dream though. Once his father found his baby at the garage, they’d pretend that he never existed. 

That was for the best. Virgil wouldn’t be leaving in the dead of the night if it wasn’t. He grabbed all three of his duffle bags with one hand, wincing a little at the weight and grabbed his computer bag with the other. He locked the car doors, ducked his head to hide from any cameras, and hurried out of the parking lot. It was just a few blocks from the 24/7 bus station. He’d relax then.

Virgil moved from a trot to a run when he saw the bus at the station, calling out, “Hold the bus,” frantically. If he missed the bus now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Luckily, the bus didn’t drive off, waiting for Virgil to awkwardly scramble onto the bus and dig out his free bus pass. He had been saving this pass for forever and it was time to use it.

There was only one other person on the bus besides the obviously sleep deprived bus driver. They looked like a drunk college student, staring out the window with half lidden eyes. At least Virgil wouldn’t have to worry about either of these two saying anything about seeing him.

Virgil settled into one of the front seats, dropping his bags into the seat next to him. He curled up in his seat, hugging his knees to his chest. No turning back now. It was either sink or swim from this point on and the blood of the sea didn’t sink.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Last stop, Divergent Springs! Last Stop, Divergent Springs!”

Virgil jerked up, scrambling out of his seat. He had been dozing and nearly missed what the bus driver had said the first time. Virgil nodded to the bus driver and hurried off the bus, nearly tripping on his last step in his haste. He sighed in relief when the bus drove down the road and disappeared from sight. It felt like he could finally breathe now. He was safe.

He hitched his bags up on his shoulders and started walking. The sun was just rising, meaning that it was around five or six o’clock. There wasn’t anyone walking around the small town, but Virgil walked at a brisk pace, wanting to go to where he was going before anyone saw him. There was a lot of things that Virgil had to do now that he was on his own. And the first thing that he had to do was to find his family’s old beach house.

He didn’t remember it that much. The last time he had seen his Uncle face to face was the last time he had seen the old beach house. Virgil couldn’t really remember why they ever stopped going except his mother complaining about how the beach hair made her hair frizz. But Virgil had a very fuzzy memory of a fight Uncle Janus and his father had at beach house the last night they had spent there. 

“I told you not to fill his head with all of that non-sense, Janus, I told you! There’s no such thing as this blood of the sea or mermaids or any of that! You’re sound like Ya-ya and that’s not a compliment!”

“What’s the harm in telling him stories, Ajax? He’s four, nearly five, he’s not going to run off to find mermaids just because I tell him a few stories! And what’s wrong with those stories? Do you think you’re better than the rest of us for not believing in this, Ajax? Why can’t he learn about his family?”

“Because none of it is true! Tell him stories about Pops being a Doctor or me starting up my own business! Tell him of Ya-Ya arriving to the country with only six dollars in her pocket! Stop telling him stories about something that never even happened! Atlantis wasn’t real, it never drowned! Our family lived in Greece before Ya-Ya moved to America! She told us stories about Atlantis because we were little kids but none of it was ever real!  There’s no such thing as Blood of the sea, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“You know what it means, Ajax. You know what it means. And that’s exactly why you refuse to teach Virgil how to-“

“You’re insane! You’re fucking insane, Janus! You know what, don’t bother taking me and Virgil out fishing tomorrow, we’ll be gone by lunch tomorrow.”

Virgil shook his head and pushed the memory out of his mind. It didn’t matter anymore. Whatever the reason, Virgil hasn’t been to the beach house for over ten years at this point. The only person who ever used it was his Uncle, who was currently spending his summer in Greece with their distance family, which was why Virgil was here instead of calling his Uncle immediately to come help him. He’d rather live out of a beach house alone for two months then spend another two months with his family, tense and just waiting to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing and have his father take away everything from him. Virgil was seventeen, eighteen in a few months, almost an adult. He could do this, he could do this. His Great-Grandmother was only sixteen when she came over here. If she could make a life for herself then so could Virgil.

Virgil let out a shaky breath when he saw a sign pointing in the direction of the beach, the words, “Lineage Beach,” faded a little from time. He could see the little beach house from the road and Virgil quickened his pace to get to it. The beach house looked just like it had when Virgil was a kid, Uncle Janus refusing to let it go to ruin. Virgil remembered Janus mentioning once that he came out here a lot, not just during summer. And just a few months ago, when Virgil had initially called his Uncle for help when things at home was getting more and more tense, Janus had mentioned off hand that he paid the bills for the beach house year round just in case he wanted to spend a weekend down there. Virgil wouldn’t have to worry about electricity, plumbing, or even WIFI. 

It was a relief, one that almost matched the relief of Virgil realizing that he remembered the correct place where Janus kept the spare key. Right where it always was, and where Virgil remembered his father complaining about the stupid hiding spot, underneath the little sea serpent statue that Janus had brought and placed in front of the beach house. Virgil tilted it and grabbed the spare key taped on the bottom.

Hey, no one had broken in yet.

Virgil unlocked the door and walked in, sighing a little in relief. The beach house was a little smaller than he remembered, a little chilly from the heat not being on. But it made him relax. He was safe now. His father wouldn’t think to come here to look for him. Not at the place that Virgil hadn’t been to since he was a toddler. He’d think that Virgil wouldn’t even remember this place. Luckily, he was wrong. 

He dropped his bags off by the door, closing it behind him. Virgil stretched and winced at the crick in his neck from sleeping on the bus. He quickly turned the heat up a little, not too much, just enough to get the chill out of the house. He grabbed his computer bag, pulling out his computer, charger, and the small jar packed to the brim with money. He had spent the last three years working at a local diner and saving his tips. He thought that he was going to be saving it for something for himself but this would have to do. 

There was almost four hundred dollars packed inside of the jar and it was going to have to last him two months for food. Lucky for him, Virgil had done well enough in school to get a scholarship for the art school he had been accepted into and his Uncle had already said that he could live with him during College. He could spend this money without any worry for the future. But that was an issue for later. 

Virgil plugged his computer in, put the jar on the coffee table, and collapsed onto the old, mustard colour couch. He was so exhausted that he drifted off to sleep immediately, the smell of the sea sending him off to a dreamless sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Patty, Darling, I love you. But if you don’t get back to base to rest soon then I’m going to lose it.”

Patton rolled his eyes from his station not too far out from the beach, staring out at the Human dwelling. He had binoculars pressed against his eyes and was watching the figure poking around the house closely. “Give me just a few more minutes, Remy. I want to see what’s this Human is doing.” He lowered the binoculars and breathed in deeply. The ocean air filled his lungs and so did the scent of the Human.

Whoever this Human was, they belonged to the same pod as the Human who was here regularly. Patton couldn’t see the Human that well from where he was treading water, but he was fairly sure that this was a hatchling. What was a hatchling doing out at this hour without a member of their pod? He knew that Humans let their Hatchling out of the pod earlier than Atlanteans did but really. At this hour?! Horrible.

Remy sighed from behind him, pushing himself closer and plucking the binoculars from Patton’s hand, tucking them into his front pocket carefully. He ignored the huff of his friend and poked at Patton’s tail gently. Patton was small, 3’6”, with pale skin, curly blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a yellow seahorse tail that curled at the end. “C’mon, Pat. The Humans are going to be up soon, and you’ve been studying this beach for the past ten hours.” He arched an eyebrow when Patton pouted. “Hey, you said when you were stationed at this post that you’d listened to Explorers first and foremost, remember? You promised.”

“. . . Five more minutes?”

“Sea snakes, you’re going to be the death of me,” Remus groaned, throwing his head back. He tilted back and floated on his back, flapping water at Patton lazily with his tail. He was tall, his long pink dolphin tail only adding his height. Compared to Patton, he was a giant. He had dark brown skin, dark brown eyes. with long almost black hair pulled into a ponytail. “Fine, just a few more minutes,” he grumbled.

Patton grinned at him, patting Remy’s tail gently and pulling out the pad from the bag slung around his shoulder. “Thank you, Rem.” He clicked his tongue and called out, “Nelly!” He grinned when he felt something nudge his tail, reaching down trustingly and grabbing the fin of the dolphin below him. The dolphin pulled him underneath the water and swam in the direction that Patton pointed to. They swam closer to the beach, watching the Human dwelling closely. The hatchling had gone inside of the dwelling at this point, hopefully waiting for their pod to return before venturing out again.

Patton wrote a few observations down on his pad, glancing up every so often. It wasn’t so often that a scientist got to observe a Human, let alone one with the Blood of the Sea in them. And now Patton got to observe a hatchling with the Blood of the sea in them too. And people said that this station would be boring.        

[peaceisadirtyword]

Teasing (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ It took me so long to finish this! (it was actually a draft I had forgotten and that I had to rewrite because it was even worse). It’s not my best work and I'm not very proud of this, but I'm posting it anyway. 

This fic is mainly for the lovely  @maggiescarborough​💕 Happy birthday, Sophie! I know I'm late and all of that😅 sorry! but I hope you had an amazing day and enjoyed it as much as you can. I really wanted to write something good for you, but I've been so mentally exhausted these past months that I don’t seem to be capable of writing good things :( anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I used this idea because I thought it was interesting, I really hope you like it♥️ Thank you for reading!

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex and alcohol, Ivar, my writer’s block (I think my block is the longest block on history), if it’s too bad I'll delete it I promise.

Words: 4108 (sorry)

gif belongs to @whenimaunicorn​ 

You had a love-hate relationship with the gym. You liked feeling fit, you liked the feeling after an intense workout, you felt better with yourself and it allowed you to eat a pizza afterwards. But you hated to be sweaty and sticky on your way home, especially when the showers at the gym were fucking broken. 

You nearly moaned in relief when you opened the door to the apartment you shared with your best friend. Her dad had insisted on installing an A/C last year, and even if you were a bit against it (you had spent one entire week bitching about how you were destroying the planet) you couldn't deny that entering the apartment after being walking under the sun for twenty minutes felt like entering Valhalla. 

Leaving your bag next to the door, you took off your shirt, groaning in annoyance and already thinking about drinking the entire bottle of fresh water you had put in the fridge earlier that day. 

But just when you were approaching the fridge, dressed only on your sports bra and the little grey shorts, someone interrupted you. 

"Will you keep stripping for me or should I go back to reading?" 

The scream died on your throat. You jumped, startled, and turned around to see the dark haired, blue-eyed asshole that almost gave you a heart attack. 

He was laying on the couch, a book between his hands and a smirk on his pouty lips that made you glare at him in rage. 

"What the fuck are you doing on my couch? In my house? Who let you in? Where the fuck is Thora?" 

Ivar laughed, shaking his head. 

"She's on her bedroom, with Hvitserk... I wouldn't go in" he raised an eyebrow. 

"What are you doing here?" you insisted, trying to cover yourself with your arms. 

"Didn't she tell you?" he chuckled "We're reforming our apartment, Hvitserk burned the kitchen" he shrugged "So we need to stay here for some days" 

"What?" you blinked. Thora definitely hadn't told you. You could go through some hours with the brothers, in fact you got along pretty well with Hvitserk. But days? That was different. 

Ivar's laugh interrupted your thoughts, making you glare at him again. It wasn't that you didn't like him. Ivar was a complicated person, he seemed to really like to tease you, in a friendly way. You didn't know how, but he always managed to get to your nerves. 

"Aren't you happy with having me here for days? All for you" 

You'd lie if you said his tone didn't make you press your thighs together.

"No" you rolled your eyes, finally opening the fridge to take the bottle out. You could feel his eyes on you as you drank the water "Anyway, I'm going to have a shower"

"Want me to join?" 

You rolled your eyes again, ignoring him as you walked to the bathroom, feeling even more exhausted than when you arrived. 

Ivar confused you. He could be nice, you knew that, and if he was a bit nicer, you would have probably made a move on him. He was the only one of all his brothers that was still single, he was... Really handsome, and the smartest person you had ever met. Maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on him. It was easy to handle it on a nightclub or a pub, but you didn't know how you'd react to his constant teasing at your own home. 

Even if he sometimes flirted with you -or that was what Thora said, you thought he was only messing with you- he wasn't attracted to you. You knew that because he would often go home with girls he met that same night. It was something that drove you mad, he could flirt with you, invite you to a drink, whisper sweet things on your ear as you were already tipsy and giggling, and then, he'd smirk at you and maybe leave for the toilet. When he came back, he had another girl on his arm, and ignored you for the rest of the night. 

When you finished your shower, you put your pajamas on and went out of the bathroom, hoping Ivar was only joking and that they'd go home after dinner. 

Thora was making out with Hvitserk on the kitchen as Ivar watched TV with a bored expression. As soon as she saw you, Thora ran to you, a big smile on her face. 

"I might have forgotten to tell you" 

"Yes, you might" you raised an eyebrow. 

"But it's okay, right? I mean, Hvitserk will sleep with me, he won't eat all the food and we'll be quiet, I promise" 

You sighed. 

"What about him?" you pointed at Ivar, who raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm fine with the couch" he shrugged "And I will be quiet too" he winked at you with a smirk, and you cleared your throat. 

"See?" Thora smiled brightly at you "Everything's fine, and they're buying dinner today, what do you prefer? Mexican or Chinese?" 

You shrugged as she looked around the kitchen for the small paper with the number of the nearest Mexican restaurant, knowing it was your favorite and that they needed to have you happy for the rest of the night. 

"Ivar, are you sure you can sleep on the couch?" Hvitserk sat next to his brother, frowning a bit in concern. Ivar looked bothered with his question, as he clenched his jaw and looked away. 

"Yes, I'm not a baby, Hvitserk" 

"I know, but the doctor said you shouldn't sleep in bad postures, Ivar" he lowered his tone "This couch is amazing for sex but terrible to sleep in" 

You decided to ignore the fact that Hvitserk just admitted fucking your roommate in the same couch in which you took a nap every day. 

"Yeah, Hvitty is right" you muttered, feeling bad for him as Ivar looked to the floor "You won't sleep well in here" 

He glared at you. 

"He's trying a new treatment" Hvitserk explained "This one is a bit more harsh, so he needs to rest well"

Ivar hissed. You knew that his legs were a sensitive topic. 

"You can always sleep on my bed" you muttered "I don't mind..." 

"Are you so desperate to have me in your bed, Y/N?" Ivar smirked again, and you tried your best to avoid blushing as you scoffed. 

"I'm just being polite" you glared at him, making Hvitserk chuckle. 

"Would you sleep in there with me or here?" he asked, shrugging. 

"If you think I like you enough to renounce to my bed for you, you're a bit delusional" 

Ivar smiled, shaking his head.

"Okay, dinner will be here in half an hour" Thora said happily, sitting on Hvitserk's lap "Want to watch a movie?" 

______________________________________

Hvitserk was nice, funny, a really good cook and hot, Thora even said he could give oral sex really good. But his taste in movies was shit. 

That morning when you woke up, you didn't even think you'd end up sharing vegetarian tacos with Ivar and watching Fifty Shades of Grey as Hvitserk and Thora kept making out. It was awkward. Especially when the sex scenes started. 

It was already midnight when the damn movie finished and you could finally get out from that couch, trying your best to avoid looking at Ivar as you took the plates to the kitchen. Thora had a weird smile as she stood up to help you. 

"So, what are you going to do?" she whispered as you put the plates on the sink, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I was thinking about going to sleep" you shrugged. 

"Shut up, you know what I mean" she giggled "You're going to sleep with Ivar, on the same bed... Are you going to finally do it?" 

"Do what?" 

"Do him" she rolled her eyes "Come on, Y/N, we all have eyes and we all can see the sexual tension" 

"There's no sexual tension" you scoffed "He just likes to tease me, he doesn't want to have sex with me" 

"Are you sure?" Thora laughed "You're so cute" she hugged you, making you frown in confusion "Didn't you see how he looked at you the whole night?" 

Yes, you had caught him staring at you more than once. He didn't look away, but instead he smirked and winked at you until you blushed and turned your head to the TV, but you though he was only messing with you, as always. He liked to bother you when he got bored. 

Shaking your head you went back to washing the plates. She giggled again and kissed your cheek before leaving to whisper something on Hvitserk's ear. 

Soon, they excused themselves to go to Thora's bedroom. Hvitserk wished you a good night with a wink and then proceeded to hit Ivar with one of the cushions before leaning in to say something in Danish and chuckling as his brother glared at him. 

As soon as their door closed behind them, you heard Ivar grunting softly as he stood up and approached you with his crutch. He said nothing as he leant onto the counter, next to you, watching your movements in silence. 

"Did you like the movie?" he asked. You turned your head to look at him for a second and your heart nearly stopped when you saw he let his hair down. 

"Not really" you cleared your throat "But it was entertaining..." 

"Yeah, definitely" he held back a smile "Thank you for letting me sleep on your bed" 

It was the first time you heard Ivar saying thank you, and you nearly dropped the glass you were washing. 

"It's nothing, really" you frowned "Why are you being nice?" 

He laughed, running one of his hands through his hair. You tried your best to avoid staring at him. 

"I can be nice" he shrugged. 

"Breaking news" you muttered, raising an eyebrow. Ivar chuckled again but said nothing. 

When you finished, you dried your hands and turned to look at him again. His blue eyes were still fixed on you and you immediately looked away.

"I think I'm going to go to bed" you nearly whispered "I'm tired"

Ivar only nodded, taking his crutch again and waiting until you started walking down the hall to follow you, turning off the lights. 

Luckily, your bed was big enough so two people could sleep on it without touching each other. Even if Ivar was fucking huge. 

"I'd like to have a shower before" he cleared his throat "Could I?" 

He left his bag next to the bed, turning to look at you as you were busy staring at his back. 

"Yeah, sure" you cleared your throat again "There are clean towels on the last drawer" you pointed at the four-drawer dresser. 

He nodded, and you heard him open the drawer as you turned around to pick up some of the clothes you had left on the floor, trying to make the room look a bit more presentable. And then you heard him chuckle and realized you had fucked up. 

"Nice" Ivar seemed to find really funny that you had a vibrator on your dresser. To be fair, you had forgotten you put it in there... And had barely used it "So this is how you can go months without sex"

Blushing fiercely, you snatched the vibrator from his hand and glared  at him. 

"Shut up"

"It's okay, I'm not judging you" he kept laughing, and you held yourself back from hitting him with the toy "I mean, we all have needs, right?" 

You ignored him, turning around again to face the wardrobe as you pretended to be too busy hanging your clothes. You could still hear his laugh when he left the room with the towel on his arm. After making sure you had hidden the vibrator well -you knew he was going to torment you with that for weeks, maybe even months-, you changed into your pajamas. 

____________________________

The bathroom was warm and you could feel the humidity when Ivar finally let you enter to wash your teeth. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. You let your eyes linger on the tattoos that covered both his back and chest, but looked away and pretended to be angry at him as you turned to face the sink and grabbed your toothbrush. 

He hadn't washed his hair, and you had the pleasure to watch how he ran his hands through it and put it up on a bun. Then your eyes travelled down his face and his body, and you frowned. It was really unfair how beautiful he was, especially as he was the biggest idiot you had ever met. God, you hated him. 

As soon as you were finished, you raised your head to look at him again, but instead you found his blue eyes looking at you through the mirror. 

"See something you like?" He raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk was still on his lips.

"No" you narrowed your eyes and he laughed again "What's so funny?" 

"You" 

"Will I be as funny when I send you to sleep on the couch?" 

He shook his head and bit his lower lip, approaching you. 

"You wouldn't do that"

"Try me" you rolled your eyes.

"Nah, I don't have to, I know you wouldn't" 

"How do you know it?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms on your chest and staring back at him. 

"Because I know you like me" he shrugged "I can see it"

"I tolerate you" you scoffed "Only because you're my best friend's boyfriend's brother"

"Sure" he smirked again. 

"You're narcissist, obnoxious, arrogant and an asshole"

"You sound like Sigurd" he rolled his eyes. 

"I like Sigurd more than you" 

Ivar smiled again. It was driving you mad. 

"No you don't" he muttered, and suddenly he was really close to you "Shut up now"

You were going to protest, but he interrupted you again. By leaning in and kissing you. 

The kiss was even better than you had imagined. His lips were softer and warmer, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and moan softly as he pressed his body closer to you, leaning you against the sink. He was still leaning on his crutch, but his free hand travelled up your body until he reached your neck, grabbing it softly as you grabbed his shoulders to avoid falling down. Your knees felt weak and it was even worse when he smiled against your lips. 

Ivar broke the kiss for a few seconds, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you again, this time more deeply. You moved your hips against his, making him groan and bit your lower lip. You let out a gasp and frowned, whining in protest when he moved his lips away from yours. They brushed your cheek and his hand moved to tangle into your hair before he moved his mouth down your neck. Your heart was racing as he bit, licked and kissed your neck. 

He kissed you again, softly, almost like he tried to memorize the feeling of your lips against his. You felt dizzy when he finally broke the kiss, you were panting and your face burned. Ivar looked a bit taken aback by his own actions when he moved away from you. The both of you stared at each other in silence. He looked even more beautiful than he did just a couple of minutes before. 

Suddenly, he cleared his throat and turned around, walking to the door and closing it after him. You stood there, grabbing the sink as your legs still trembled and you felt hot. Your face was red, and your lips were pink and a bit swollen. After staring at your own reflection for a couple of minutes, you moved to open the water tap, leaning in to wash your face.

__________________________________

Ivar was laying on your bed. He had his arm under his head and his eyes on his phone. You barely dared to look at him when you entered, going directly to the mirror that stood next to you door to put your hair up on a ponytail. Any of you dared to break the silence, though. 

You climbed on the bed, facing away from him and snuggled under the covers. 

"I'm going to turn off the light, okay?" you muttered, and Ivar hummed. 

Silence again. You moved to hug your own pillow, as you always did, and just as you had closed your eyes and were about to drift off to sleep, you felt Ivar moving closer to you. He touched your waist, startling you. 

"Is this okay?" He asked, softly, on your ear. You tensed up but nodded slowly. He sighed in content and hugged your waist, pressing you against him. His head rested on your shoulder, and you felt his breathing on your neck. Your eyes were now wide open, and your heart started beating faster. 

Then you felt his lips on your cheek and leant onto him, you felt him smile against your skin and it made you smile a bit too. You didn't know what the hell was happening, but you were definitely enjoying it. 

"I might have been wanting to do this for months" he muttered "But don't tell anyone" 

You frowned and turned around to look at him. You were so close that you could feel his breathing on your lips.

"Are you messing with me? Because it's not funny" 

Ivar shook his head. Maybe if the room wasn't that dark, you could have seen him blushing.

"I'm not, I'm being honest now, don't ruin it" he glared at you and you raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm listening" you smirked, enjoying that small amount of power you had over him in that moment.

It was the first time Ivar couldn't find the right words. He bit his lip, feeling stupid as he stared at you, unable to actually put into words what he needed to say. 

"Can I kiss you?" He finally said, frustrated. If he couldn't tell you, he'd show it. 

You held back a soft smile at his words and nodded. This time it was you who leant in to kiss him. He sighed against your lips and his hand went to your neck again, holding you close to him as he bit your lip. 

You moaned into his mouth, making him groan and grip your waist. When he broke the kiss again the both of you were panting and you pressed your thighs together. 

"Gods you drive me insane woman" he growled again, pressing his face against your neck. You blushed and smiled, feeling like a teenager whose crush invited her out. 

"I thought you..."

"Stop thinking" he chuckled "I know what you think, Thora told me" his blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark "You're wrong"

"But you always teased me" you rolled your eyes "You literally flirted with me and then left with some other girl"

"Yeah, that was rude" he cleared his throat "Sorry, I thought you didn't want to... Go home with me... I thought about you when we fucked though, if that counts" 

"No it doesn't" you couldn't help but laugh. 

Ivar smiled softly and kissed you again, this time his hand travelled down your waist, caressing your thigh and grabbing your leg, pulling you closer to him until you straddled him, without breaking the kiss. Your hips moved against his and you could feel his erection already pressing against his sweatpants. 

"Sigurd said you couldn't have sex" you raised an eyebrow

"Sigurd is a fucking idiot" he rolled his eyes, grinding against you, as a way of showing you he definitely could "He's jealous because he knows that even if I couldn't fuck, I'd be better than him" 

You giggled, amused, and leant to kiss him again. Ivar's hands travelled under your shirt and you moaned as he reached your breasts, caressing your skin softly. 

"Let me take this off" he nearly begged you, whispering into your ear, and his tone made you whimper. 

You took the shirt off and tossed it aside, suddenly feeling self-conscious and trying to hide yourself from him. His expression softened, knowing very well the feeling. Ivar, with a softness on his eyes that you didn't know he could show, put your arms away gently, sitting to start kissing your neck and chest softly. 

"It's okay" he muttered "You're beautiful, Y/N, you should know that" 

"I'm not that sure" you smiled as he raised his head to look at you "But thanks" 

"Then I'll tell you until you're sure" Ivar shrugged. 

Your smile widened and you kissed him again, it was like you couldn't get enough of him. His hands caressed your thighs and then his fingers reached the edge of your pajama shorts. Your gasped when he reached your sex, and moaned when Ivar caressed it over your panties, moving your hips to encourage him to continue. 

Ivar was already panting. His mouth felt dry and he had to lick his lips constantly. He let out a groan when he felt how wet you were already, and the fact that it was because of him made him smirk against the skin of your shoulder, putting your underwear aside and pressing onto your clit. You whimpered and your hands grabbed his neck and his arm. 

Ivar's fingers teased your entrance, you moaned and bit your lip, gasping when he pushed one finger inside you, moving it slowly in and out before adding another one. Then he curled them inside you, making you moan louder than before, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. 

"Don't" he frowned.

"But... Hvitserk and Thora..." 

"Fuck them, they're not especially silent, are they?" 

You giggled, but nodded as he kissed your neck again, his lips traveling down your chest until he reached your breasts. The feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, with the palm of his hand brushing your clit and his lips on your breasts was too much, and soon you felt that familiar knot on your lower belly, tightening quickly as you moved against him, moaning. Your legs were shaking around him and he groaned, raising his head to bite your earlobe. 

"Come on, love, cum for me now" 

It seemed that the last thing your body needed was to hear his voice whispering on your ear. You came with a small scream, moaning his name and panting. Ivar looked quite proud of himself when he retrieved his fingers, licking them with his eyes fixed on yours. 

Another kiss. He was so addictive it worried you, would you be able to spend a single minute next to him without kissing him? You only broke the kiss to take your shorts and panties off. Ivar only pulled his sweatpants down enough for him to free his cock. You didn't ask him to fully undress, instead you grabbed his face and kissed him as he pressed his erection against your entrance.

"Slowly, please" you muttered "It's been a while and I think you're a bit bigger than the vibrator" 

Ivar said nothing, just smirked and pressed his forehead against yours. He thrusted into you slowly, moaning softly as you whimpered in pain. 

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, his eyes showed true concern as you smiled and kissed his lips.

"It's okay, don't stop please"

It didn't take long for the pain to fade. This time you moaned in pleasure, and started moving against him. You pushed him so he'd lay down, putting your hands on his chest as you moved your hips up and down. Ivar bit his lip, narrowing his eyes and gripping your waist so hard you were sure he'd leave marks. 

Your nails dig on his tattooed chest as you felt your orgasm approaching, and Ivar moaned your name as your walls clenched around him. He moved his hand to your clit and circled it, making you moan even louder, your legs trembled again and your movements faltered a bit. Ivar kept thrusting into you until you moaned his name one last time before letting yourself go. He came just after you, biting his lip and muttering your name. 

Laying down over him, you kissed his lips one last time as his arms circled your waist. The both of you stayed in silence, enjoying each other's touch and soft breathing, until Ivar turned his head to look at you and smirked. 

"Next time, can we use the vibrator too?" 

_____________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi​ @alicedopey​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hallowed-heathen​ @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @captstefanbrandt​ @love-hate-love​ @titty-teetee​ @readsalot73​ @moondustmemories​ @thevikingsheaux​ @therealcalicali​ @chimera4plums​ @blushingskywalker​ @awkwardfangirl02​ @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @winchesterwife27​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @eteramfools​ @tgrrose​ @flokidottirsstuff​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ @fantasydevil2002​

I hope I didn’t forget anyone💞 thank you for reading! 

[descendantofthesparrow]

Interlude - Rewrite POYW - Harry Hook x reader - Part 3 - invitations

=

The Smee twins stared wide-eyed at the crisp white letter that was clearly and openly inviting them, both of them, to Auradon prep, signed by King Ben and Ms. Evie of the isle. They heard that Harriet, CJ, and their older brother Sammy had gotten the same letter around the same time that they had gotten theirs.

His Royal Majesty, King Ben of Auradon, and his Councilor Ms. Evie of the Isle, hereby request the pleasure of your company, Skipper and Sterling Smee, for the upcoming academic year at Auradon city middle school. Please notify his Majesty’s couriers of your response to this request.

-we’d love to have you two with us here in Auradon, don’t worry, your brother has been given the same invitation, will you come? - King Ben

-Don’t let this go to waste boys, I’ll see you soon - Harry H.

Skipper and Sterling looked at each other, then back to the letter, the older twin, skipper, picking up the letter and holding it gently in his hands, reading it over and over for any small hints that might reveal the letter to be a whole joke and they would never be coming off the isle.

Skipper slowly looked at his brother with a grin “it's for real” he whispered, shaking the letter in Sterling's face “they really want us to come to Auradon!” Sterling took the letter and examined it for himself, a bright grin matching his brothers growing on his face.

The twins threw their arms around each other, jumping and spinning around the room. the door to their room opened, the twins pausing in their celebration as their older brother, Sammy, and dad, Mr. Smee, looked in on them with just barely repressed smiles. “Dad look!” Skipper took back the letter from Sterling and shoved it into his dad's face, the old man smiling and picking up his son as he examined the letter “they invited us to go to Auradon! And Harry signed it too!!”

“they invited your brother as well” Mr. Smee hummed, setting Skipper back down on his feet and examining the letter again, smiling at the note from Harry. “Harriet and CJ too”

Sammy flipped his invitation between his fingers “yeah, Harriet said something about how they finally assigned guardians for us so they were finally able to send the invitations, all that’s left is for us to tell the dudes who gave ‘em to us that we accept” Mr. Smee, handing the twins letter back to Skipper, the two going over it once more.

“when can we tell them?” Mr. Smee asked, walking back out of the twin's room to the living room of his apartment that he had acquired after (y/n) had dismembered his ex-captain.

“well, Harriet got a letter from (y/n) saying that the next shipment of goods tomorrow, will have some of the couriers that are expecting our response so we can tell them then.” Mr. Smee nodded, moving into the kitchen to start making dinner for his sons.

“so after we tell them you three are all for Auradon, when will you be picked up?” Sammy pursed his lips, trying to remember what Harriet had relayed to him from the letter that (y/n) sent her informing her of the timeline of events for the vks transfer.

“uh, after we tell the courier dudes tomorrow? the limo should be here sometime next week…no clue what time yet but im sure well be told at some point before the day” Mr. Smee nodded, setting a pot of water onto his stove and turning it on, waiting for it to boil so he could add the pasta.

“I noticed on the twin's letter, it said “Auradon middle school” while yours said “Auradon Prep”, so the twins will be going to a different school?” Sammy nodded at his father's question, helping him get the ingredients ready for the chicken alfredo spaghetti he was about to make.

“Yeah, they are only 10 after all, and Auradon prep is a high school so I’m guessing when they turn 14, they’ll go then.” Mr. Smee nodded again and started to chop up some parsley.

Sammy grabbed the chicken from the fridge and placed a pan on the stove, starting the flame and grabbing some seasonings for the chicken.

The two worked in comfortable silence, the sound of the twins playing in the background providing the much needed “white noise”

Sammy sighed, slicing up the chicken and tossing it into the pan, watching it cook as he thought of the fast-approaching future.

Only a week from now, he and the twins would be across the sea in Auradon, away from their father for the first time. Now Smee wasn’t the best father, hardly anyone on the isle was, well maybe except for Dr.Facilier which was mostly a surprise to…well everyone, the once voodoo doctor turned principal and arcade owner held his daughter in high regard and strived to give her the best life he could on the isle.

But back to his father, while he wasn’t the best, he definitely was far from bad, and tried to the best for his kids when he could. And right now, the best for his kids was sending them to Auradon.

Sammy knew the twins would miss their father, yes, they would have the hook siblings and their older brother but nothing could take the place of their dad. Sammy hummed as he wondered if he could request visitations for the twins to see their dad.

-

CJ balance-walked the curb as she kept pace with Harriet, both heading back to the older sister's ship for the night as darkness began to set over the isle.

“so when are we goin ta Auradon?” CJ asked Harriet, grinning as she gave an annoyed sigh, it being the seventh time CJ had asked that question within the last five minutes.

Then again, Harriet hadn't bothered to answer her so CJ thought it was perfectly reasonable to continue to bug her with it. “at some point within the next week” Harriet muttered; she had wanted to keep her answer as loose as possible as to not get CJs hopes up. Harriet was a cynical person, unlike CJ who was oddly optimistic, and she didn’t want her little sister to be disappointed in case the limo never came.

But thanks to CJ’s constant babbling of the same question, Harriet just decided to blurt it out if only to make her shut up. “sweet~ is Harry gonna be in the limo thing?” Harriet sighed, question after question, and if Harriet didn’t answer CJ would babble it over and over again until Harriet snapped.

“I don’t know, I just know they are aiming for next week to pick us all up, (y/n) said I’ll get another letter about two days before we get picked up so we have time to pack ‘n stuff” CJ hummed at that and lept off the curb, skipping up next to her sister and clasping her hands behind her back.

“so what was (y/n) like? I didn’t get to meet her when she came to demolish dad” Harriet stopped for a moment, of all the questions for CJ to ask that was one she wasn’t expecting.

“well,” Harriet starting, moving forward again as her ship came into sight “she was really…expressive, very protective of Harry, um-damn good with a sword….I don’t know I wasn’t around her for a long enough time to gage her properly but what I've gotten about her from her letters, she’s a thorough person and makes sure everyone is taken care of before going through with a plan” CJ hummed again, Harriet’s “description” of (y/n) was different than the image she had made in her head due to Harrys “description” but either way (y/n) sounded kinda cool and she would have hella fun annoying the hell outta her.

The two hook sisters arrived at Harriet's ship and climbed aboard, moving into the lower decks where the kitchen was to eat dinner.

-

Dizzy hummed happily to herself as she moved about the salon, cleaning up the last of the clipped hair and globs of dye before the salon opened at midnight.

In one week, ONE WEEK, she, Dizzy Tremaine, the daughter of Drizella Tremaine, would be going to Auradon!!! With Evie!! Her idol!!

As the day drew closer to the fateful pickup day, her excitement built up inside her, bursting out in sleepless nights and constant ideas to sketch down in her sketchbook.

She let out a squeal and spun on her heels, sweeping up the last pile of hair and disposing of it. She just couldn’t wait! There were so many things in Auradon that she wanted to try! From ice cream to swimming pools, it was an endless list of joys she had yet to experience!

“Dizzy!!!! Finish up! Time for dinner!” her aunt Anastasia called from the apartment upstairs, Dizzy set her broom and dustpan against the wall and skipped up the stairs, unable to keep the bright grin off her face.

“Coming~!!”

-

Ben looked at the papers the couriers had given him of the responses of the six invites he had sent out the day before.

All of them said yes.

Ben couldn’t help the wide grin from growing on his lips, and he didn’t resist the urge to dance as excitement swelled inside him.

‘Finally!’ Ben thought as he danced stupidly around his office ‘finally! After more than half a year I can finally bring more VKs over! Nothing can stop it now!’

Mal knocked gently outside his office, it was lunchtime and he had yet to arrive at the pavilion where he and the vks plus (y/n) would be eating (lunch celebration for the invitations being sent out). After a few moments of silence, other than the sounds of Bens dancing footsteps, Mal opened the door, calling out for him.

She burst out laughing as she spotted Ben dancing around his office, a wide grin on his face “They all accepted!” Ben sang, pulling Mal into the room and making her dance with him “they all accepted! Six more vks next week!”

Mal laughed again and let herself be pulled into the moment of joy, gigging as Ben spun her around and lifted her into the air “Six more vks!” she echoed, squealing a bit as Ben dropped her into his chest and spun them both around some more “Ookayyy!! Im gonna throw up lemme down!” Mal smacked at his shoulders until Ben grinned at her and set her on her feet, laughing a bit as Mal tumbled into a chair from dizziness.

“Come on, let's go tell the others!” Ben grabbed onto Mal's hand, dragging a still slightly out of it fae from his office and to the pavilion, where the rest of their friends waited for them.

“There yeh are, an’ here I thought yeh keeled over from paperwork” Ben let out a few sarcastic laughs as he looked to Harry, who just grinned back.

“harde har Harry, but! All six of them accepted the invitation!” Evie and Carlos let out a gasp and Evie stood from the table, bounding over to Ben and slamming into him for a hug “I know! Next week we’ll finally have more vks!”

Gil and Harry burst out laughing as Evie took Ben's arms and spun them around in a dance, “He was doing that in his office” Mal sniggered, sitting down next to Jay and leaning on him, Jay holding up his phone and laughing as he recorded Evie and Ben dancing.

“adorable” you purred, curling against Harry's side as his arm wrapped around your waist. Carlos and Dude ran around for a moment, hyped up from Ben's visible excitement, and slid to a stop in front of the table.

“come on! Let's eat! Then we get ice cream! For celebration!” everyone cheered at Carlos' suggestion and Ben and Evie quickly sat down, Ben tapping his hands on the table to rid of his excess energy.

A few moments later Ben's personal chefs appeared with trays of food, setting them down in the middle of the table and pouring their drinks “thank you, Cherise, Tulio” the two chefs smiled at Ben and nodded, waving the eight teens goodbye and moving back into the castle.

“to the new vks!” Ben called, raising his glass and laughing as the rest of you followed his action.

“to the new vks!”

“and many more~!!” you finished, the vks grinning even wider than that. That was the plan, as soon as Harry's sisters, the Smee kids, and Dizzy were in Auradon, the process to bring another six would be immediately put in action.

The only question to that was ‘who would be chosen?’

-end of part 3-

 yeeee P3~!!! the new vks have been invited to Auradon and things are lookin up~!!! and writing excited Ben was so fun, hes a fun character to write and create for, i don't get why the official writers pushed him to the side so much, after all without him the Descendants storyline wouldn't exist (yes this is heavy side eye to the writers of descendants) 

anyway Permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@verboetoperee​ @imtryingthisout​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[collecting-stories]

Christmas Eve - ep. 07 - Georgia

Summary: Christmas in King County and a hint at what lies behind the All-American girl persona that you wear. 

A/N: Hope you guys are enjoying the rewrite so far!

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Christmas Eve in King County, like everything else, was marked by the church. There was the Christmas Eve midnight service that Hershel led, the living nativity set up in the middle of the square, for the days leading up to Christmas, and, of course, Annette’s Christmas Eve dinner at the farm for all the church congregation to gather together. It was more of an open house and you always ended up ‘working it’ though it was really just a glorified dinner, no need for servers and no one got paid for the shift.

“Are you busy on Thursday?” You asked the question innocently, leaving out the part where Thursday was also Christmas Eve.  

“Dunno,” Daryl shrugged, wiping his hands on the rag hanging out of his pocket as he turned to face you. A welcome distraction, having you around had prolonged the work that Daryl could’ve easily completed in two months. He was always stopping and starting when you came over though, more interested in you than in the car. Before he might’ve denied it but after Thanksgiving, he knew it was true, Rick had been right about him having feelings for someone. It wasn’t something he was used to but it was something.  

“It’s Christmas Eve.”  

“I got a calendar.” He replied, smiling when you pouted at him.

“Well if you’re calendar isn’t too booked maybe you’d come to the dinner Annette’s having at the Greene farm?” You replied, “it’s always a lot of fun.”

“Wouldn’t know, ain’t never been invited to it before.”  

“I’m inviting you now.”  

“Dunno,” he walked the short distance to the fridge and grabbed a beer out, “I’m not exactly a participating member of the community.”

“Dale will be there,” you offered, skimming over his last sentence. You knew he wasn’t anyone’s favorite person and you’d heard a good deal of Dixon stories from everyone who had heard that you were getting your car fixed by Daryl but that hadn’t dampened your opinion. Just because a bunch of people thought they knew him didn’t mean they did. “I’ll be there.”

“Ya want me ta spend Christmas Eve listening ta yer yammering on?” Daryl asked. You caught the hint of a smile and you knew he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he was saying.  

“Maybe...beats me showing up here to interrupt your night.”

-

“So you asked him to come to Christmas Eve dinner?” Maggie asked, standing beside the wooden structure meant to represent the manger, white and blue cloths and headdress covering her jeans and thermal shirt. It was chillier than either of you would’ve liked tonight.

“Yeah, thought it’d be nice, he’s never been.” You pointed out. You had been sent over with thermoses of hot chocolate and cups for the manger volunteers, standing a short way off so that you didn’t ‘break the illusion’.  

“I highly doubt that Patty sent you over here to chitchat. You girls need to be better stewards of your time and your tongues.” Jacqui called, beckoning Maggie over as she spoke. You frowned, watching as Maggie rejoined the nativity cast. You weren’t a fan of King County’s holiest member of the community or her perception that she was better than everyone else.  

Jacqui was a central member of the church, a ward against gossip though she had a tongue for it herself, and a general know-it-all. She had been managing the 7-11 in town since the owner had franchised his small business to them, before you were even born. She even rented the house that sat just to the left. There was a picture of the original business hanging behind the counter at the 7-11, the house with two gas pumps in front of it, an older man and his wife standing on the porch. Somehow all that deemed Jacqui a sort of unspoken ‘elder’ member of the community. A gossip but an important voice in the town. On par with Patricia, Annette, and Hershel though she was younger.  

Her voice was important to everyone but you.  

“I heard you were in again the other day with that Dixon fella, buying cigarettes.” She mentioned when she came over, claiming to want some hot chocolate.

“The cigarettes were his, I don’t smoke,” you replied, watching the nativity scene. Having a job this Christmas had saved you from having to participate with all the rest of the youth group and you were more than thankful for that. “Besides, he’s working on my car, like I keep saying.”

“I’d said you’re spending a little too much time in his company. Might not’ve picked up his smoking but you picked up his need for talking-back.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you smiled at her, “sorry Miss Jacqui, didn’t mean anything by it, must be the cold getting to me.”  

“Must be.”  

When she walked away again to reign in Joseph and a Wise Man you capped the rest of the hot chocolate and left it by the church table that was set up for donations. You weren’t lying about the cold, it was nearing forty at night as it got closer to January. Nothing you liked but you made due as long as you weren’t outside for too long. It was only when Patricia made you do ridiculous things like walk hot chocolate across the street to the living nativity that you really had to brave the weather.  

“Oh good you’re back, you got a table. I was gonna take his order but he said he didn’t ‘want nothing yet’ figured he might be waiting for ya.” Amy said, bumping her hip against yours as you took your coat off, whispering and glancing over her shoulder to your section as she spoke.  

You looked back, biting your lip to stop the smile on your face at the sight of Daryl sitting there reading over the menu. You grabbed your apron from the rack and tied it around your waist, “I got it, thanks.”

“He’s some trouble ya know.” Amy mentioned.  

“He’s Just fixing my car.” You replied and even as you said it you knew it sounded like a lie. You walked over to his table, smiling when he looked up at you.  

“Heard ya were bringing hot chocolate ta baby Jesus.” He said, grin in place.

“Yea course, haven’t you read that bit in the bible?” You teased. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Your own hot chocolate?”  

“Coffee’s fine.”

“What brings you in?” You asked, hovering at the table, thankful for the slow night.  

“Figured yer always showing up ta harass me while I work, ain’t fair I don’t give ya the same treatment.” Daryl replied.  

You bit your bottom lip, preparing for a comeback when you heard Patricia call your name from behind the counter. She’d come out of the kitchen to see you standing at Daryl’s table, smiling at him like he just hung the stars and she’d almost had a heart attack. Patricia had seen him come in and had known, the moment he sat himself in your section, that he wasn’t moving anytime soon. She’d listened to you tell her the same story over and over again, that Daryl was fixing the jeep and that as soon as he was done so would your seeing him be.  

“I only see him to pay him for the job.”  

But Patricia wasn’t some naive young kid who you could pull the wool over. She’d been around the block a time or two and knew exactly what kind of temptations you were wading into hanging around Daryl Dixon.  

“I’ll be right back with your coffee.” You promised, turning away from him and walking back to the counter. Patricia looked passed you, eyebrow raised in disdain as she watched Daryl fiddle with his laminated menu.  

“Are you out of your damn mind?”  

“What?” You asked innocently, “I was talking to a customer.”

“I have half a mind to call your mother and tell her you been hanging around Dixon on your off time.” Patricia said.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Patty,” you insisted. If she called your parents then it was over. Your car would be in Woodbury, you would be grounded worse than Maggie could imagine, and you’d likely never see Daryl again.  

“You watch yourself, you’re in dangerous territory.”  

“He’s just fixing-”  

“Your car. I heard.” Patricia replied.  

“Can you hand me a coffee?” You asked, changing the subject.

She went to the other side of the counter to grab you a cup of coffee for Daryl while you turned back to look over at him. As if on some cue he looked over at you and you smiled. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck and you caught the faint pink the blossomed over his cheeks.  

“One coffee.” Patricia said, setting it down and catching your attention again, “charge him this time.”

“I’ll make sure to get the dollar from him,” you replied, taking the cup and walking back over to Daryl’s table. Patricia shook her head, despite her friendship with your parents and the Greene’s she’d kept plenty of secrets for you and Maggie over the years. She hadn’t told them about Glenn and Maggie dating, she hadn’t told your parents about your tardiness over Thanksgiving or Daryl dropping off the pie plate when you’d claimed you were bringing the apple pie to Tara. She just wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing not telling them you were falling deeper and deeper into something with Daryl.  

It was unspoken knowledge the way Will Dixon treated his kids. While Daryl’s mother hadn’t been some innocent girl getting taken advantage of she had loved her kids, Daryl a little more than Merle probably. She’d never hit them but she never stayed sober passed three in the afternoon and Patricia could still remember the senior Mr. Grimes coming in after the fire burned down the old house telling them about Daryl arriving home in time to see the place ablaze.  

Losing his mother, watching his brother leave, enduring years of abuse from his father, Patricia couldn’t help but worry that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree with Daryl. She’d been watching for any sign of abuse on you but she hadn’t seen any. If anything, you seemed happier than you had been in a while and it was that Patricia relied on to make herself feel better about not telling your parents that you were occupying your time with a Dixon.  

“Ya working late?” Daryl asked as you idled by his table.

“I’ve got thirty more minutes then I’m free to trudge home in the cold.” You replied, “I’m going to Maggie’s...we’re setting up the barn tomorrow for the Christmas Eve party.”

“Ya need a ride?”

“Do you mind driving Maggie too?”  

He shook his head. Daryl had come to the diner tonight just to see you. Aside from going to Dale’s for work or 7-11 for a pack of smokes he didn’t frequent too many places in King County. He was far from an active member in the community but he’d been turning up more often. The diner for one, the Winter Fest where Otis had spied him at the church table talking to you. He’d come tonight because he definitely wasn’t planning on going to the Christmas Eve party dinner that you had invited him to but he did have a present for you. Stupid, he was sure, but a present nonetheless.  

You paged Maggie to tell her to meet you at the diner and finished out the rest of your shift while Daryl drank his coffee, paid, and left to smoke out in the parking lot. He was there, toking on a cigarette, when you exited the diner with your backpack.  

“I really don’t like closing. I hate having to clean up.” You confessed as you came out to meet him.  

“Shifts a shift.” He shrugged and you rolled your eyes at his words. “Here, ‘fore Maggie comes over and I gotta hear the two a ya bitching about the Nativity or something.”

“You don’t have to drive us.” You replied, taking the box wrapped in newspaper that he had handed you, “is this a present? Did you get me a present?”

“Ain’t nothing special...don’t get so excited.” He said, chewing his thumb as you opened the gift he’d bought. Sitting in the little box was a keychain. A leather strap folded over and fastened onto a thin metal plate that attached it to the key hook. The leather was embroidered with clumsy little flowers in yellow with green leaves.  

“This is so pretty.” You smiled at Daryl, holding the keychain close as you gave him a one-armed hug.

Daryl tensed and pulled away, huffing as he tried to appear indifferent about the keychain, he’d made himself, “none a that, it ain’t nothing expensive. Just thought ya’d like it.”

“I love it, thank you.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Maggie’s voice cut through your conversation as she came around the side of the truck, brushing out her hair from being pinned back in Mary’s head covering. Daryl dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his boot to distract himself from the blush that had started warming his cheeks when you hugged him. “Hi Daryl.” Maggie greeted.

“Hey,” he nodded to her before heading around to the driver’s side of the truck. You climbed in first, taking the middle seat, while Maggie climbed in second. You slipped the leather keychain back into the box and held it on your lap as Daryl pulled out of the diner with the two of you, heading toward Hershel’s farm.  

The ride was quiet, a lull of conversation as Maggie complained about Jacqui and the other youth group kids that had been roped into the nativity. You stayed quiet, knee pressed against Daryl’s and hands gripping present he had given you, unable to contain the smile on your face. The truck drove the dirt path up to the farm and Daryl cut the engine, Maggie already opening the door and slipping out.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” Daryl replied, huffing out smoke as you slide across the seat, suddenly cold from the loss of touch. He was gripping the steering wheel with one hand as he watched you get out of the truck, lingering in the door like you always did.

“I do have a present for you, by the way.” You mentioned, spying the newspaper wrapping crumpled on the floor of the truck.  

“Ya don’t have ta waster yer money.”

“Too late.” You teased. You met his eyes and your smile widened. On the other side of the truck  you could hear the front door clatter open, the familiar squeak of the springs on the screen and footsteps bounding down as Beth ran across the headlights to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you!”  

“Hi Beth, I missed you too!”

Still holding your waist she caught sight of Daryl for the first time and twisted, moving her body behind yours and peeking out at him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Daryl dropped his cigarette into the ashtray in the truck as he nodded his head to her, “yer Beth I take it.”

“I am.”

“I like yer braids.” He mentioned, watching the sweet smile she offered as she moved further out so he could see the blonde french braids clearer.

“Thank you! My mom did them for me so that my hair will be wavy tomorrow for Christmas Eve.”

“I’m sure it’ll look beautiful.”

She giggled and you bit your lip as your eyes met his. “I’d better get inside, thanks for the ride.”

“Sure thing, see ya ‘round.”

You walked Beth inside, her gaze wandering back to the pickup as she climbed the porch stairs with you. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“No. Daryl’s not my boyfriend.”

“She wishes.” Maggie teased, waiting at the door for the two of you.  

-

The barn at Christmas was arguably one of your favorite sights in the world. Hershel took great pride in outlining the entire building with lights, he hung a oversized wreath on the side with a large spotlight and the whole thing felt like you were walking into a Hallmark movie or a Thomas Kincaide mural. Georgia didn’t a lot of real winter weather but the barn made you feel like you were in some New England town.

“I was sorry to hear your dad couldn’t make it.” Jacqui came up behind you, her voice returning you to the reality of the evening. Hershel’s barn decorated at Christmas was your favorite but the people who filled it weren’t.  

“Yeah, he wishes he could be.” You shrugged. “Working.”  

“That’s what your mom said. At least he’s a good worker right? Must be where you get it from.”

Just passed Jacqui you could see your mom talking to Annette. Her eyes met yours and she straightened up, pointing to her mouth and indicating for you to smile. You straightened your back and offered Jacqui a closed lip smile before answering her, “yeah. Must be.”  

When Jacqui left to talk to another church member your mom made a quick beeline for you, wrapping her hand around your arm and guiding you outside, away from the party. “What did Jacqui want?”

“She was just asking about dad-”

“What did you say?”

“I said he was at work. God, mom we went over this in the car...I’m not stupid.” You crossed your arms in front of you, looking away from her.  

“You didn’t say anything to Maggie?”

“No.”  

“Hey!” She grabbed at your jaw to make you look at her, nails scratching against your cheek, “look at me. Did you tell Maggie?”

“No. I didn’t say anything to anyone mom.” You replied, pulling away from her and stepping back, “can I go back inside or did you want to assault me some more?”

“For Gods sake stop being so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You dragged me out here to ask if I told some random person that my dad is in rehab for the billionth ti-”

“Keep your voice down!” She snapped, “you want everyone to hear you?”  

“Sorry mama.”  

She smoothed back your hair, pushing stray pieces away from your face and fixing your headband for you before leading you both back inside for the continuation of the night. Neither of you spoke to each other the rest of the evening. Not in the car on the way to the service at church and not once you’d gotten home. You went in your room to change and listened to her in the kitchen, trying to throw together a lunch as she prepared to work through the holiday. A knock on your bedroom door was the only thing to signify that she was leaving and would likely work the whole of Christmas.  

The Greene’s would be confused if you went to theirs too early in the morning and you didn’t want to disturb Daryl any more than you already did by showing up at his. Tara was spending the holiday upstate visiting her sister and seeing her niece. The diner was closed. You opted for going straight to bed once your dress was off and your face was clean…hopefully you’d be lucky and you’d sleep through the holiday.  

-

Taglist: @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @mainokutan @sabertooth-potato @qrangr @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare  @mainokutan @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @cathwritestragediesnotsins @siren-queen03

[fics-of-culture]

Rewriting Spn: Whiskey Eyes

Summary:  Everyone knows the story of Gabriel, but how does that story change when he meets the Winchester’s youngest sister Y/N? Will their love be strong enough to change his fate?

Words: 5,046

A/N: Shoutout to @loch-ness-moron​ for the kind words she left on the last part. Here is part 2.

Mystery Spot 3.11

It had been months since you’d met the trickster. You hadn’t been sure what to make of the chocolate bar you’d found in the motel room after Dean defeated him. You grabbed it up before either of your brothers could spot it. You certainly didn’t want the questioning that you knew would come if they’d seen it. It was the exact same brand as the one you’d seen the trickster munching on before his demise. Part of you wanted to believe this was his way of letting you know that he was still alive. Still around somewhere, pulling pranks on unsuspecting douchebags. But you knew better than to hope for such a thing. Although you hadn’t been there to see it, you knew Dean drove a stake through his chest. No trickster could walk away from that. And you could think of no reason for the trickster to feel the need to let you know he was alright. It made more sense to believe that he had left it there while you and the boys were gone, right before his death. For a while, you weren’t sure what to do with it. The idea of throwing it away made you feel guilty. This was probably the last thing left of the man that your brother had killed. That being said, you knew better than to eat it. He was a trickster after all. The chocolate could be cursed or poisoned or something else just as dangerous. So you’d kept it, knowing you’d probably have to throw it out at some point because how long does chocolate even last anyway?

A few months later your brother Dean found the bar while looking through your bag for salt. Upon finding it, he promptly shoved it in his mouth. You walked in the room as he was halfway through his little snack.

“Hey, did you find the sal-“ You cut yourself off as you see your brother. He was hunched over your bag with a candy bar shoved in his mouth. “Is that the candy bar that was in my bag?” Your older brother at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

“I’ll buy you a new one, promise.” Dean spoke as he continued eating. Part of you was furious at him for eating the last thing the trickster has even given you, but a larger part of you was more worried about the possible side effects of eating trickster-chocolate. You’d spent the whole day hovering around him, making sure he didn’t turn into a frog or suddenly drop dead or something. Your brothers seemed to notice your newfound interest in Dean, but neither of them said anything. A fact you were incredibly thankful for, because you weren’t sure you’d be able to explain the situation without at least a fair bit of shouting from both of your brothers. By the end of the day you had come to the conclusion that the chocolate bar was safe. It had been 8 hours and nothing had happened. You were relieved that you hadn’t accidentally killed your older brother, but you now wondered why the trickster would leave you this piece of candy if it wasn’t meant to harm you. You shrugged off the thought. The trickster was gone, and you’d likely never know why that man did anything. That had been the last time you’d thought about the trickster. Months had gone by and your family’s lives had gotten complicated. Nowadays, your thoughts were preoccupied with Dean’s impending deadline. You and Sam had been looking for anything in which to save your brother, but there was nothing to be found. Dean, however, had no real interest in saving himself. He wanted nothing more than to continue hunting as usual. Hence, how you found yourself in a sleepy town in Broward County.

You wake up suddenly as an alarm clock goes off. It was blaring Heat Of The Moment by Asia. You opened your eyes to see Dean tying his shoes on your shared bed. It wasn’t unusual to wake up like this. Most motel rooms only offered two beds and your brothers neither the money nor the desire to purchase another room. They thought it was safer for you all to be together. And since none of you had any interest in sleeping on the floor, you got used to sharing a bed with your brothers. This time you had bunked with Dean. A decision you were starting to regret as you see how cheery he is this morning. You groan into the pillow as you listen to your brothers banter back and forth about the music.

Twenty minutes later, you were waiting for your brothers to get ready for the day. Being the beloved little sister, you always got first dibs on the bathroom. After you were all ready (and after Dean found some lacy lingerie that had found its way into his luggage) you were off to breakfast. You stepped into the diner, observing the other patrons with interest. As you sat down in your booth, an older man sitting at the counter, eating some pancakes turned and winked at you. You cringed as he turned back around. The last thing you wanted to deal with this morning was unwanted attention from some creep. You all ordered your food as you discussed the case. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of familiarity as you spoke of the victim. A Professor Dexter Hasselback disappeared at the Broward County mystery spot. You briefly remember the professor from the trickster case. You could appreciate the trickster dolling just desserts, but none of those people had deserved to get killed. You wonder if this professor is as much of a douche as the last one was. Your train of thought was interrupted when the waitress’s hot sauce hit the floor. You noticed the man from earlier turn at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. You all quickly finished your food after that and resolved to check out the mystery spot.

You walk down the street with your brothers, discussing the legitimacy of the mystery spot. As your brothers debated, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. This place felt odd in a way you couldn’t quite put your finder on. You shrug off the feeling. There are more important things to be focusing on right now. Your brothers and you resolve to check out the mystery spot after it closes.

You broke into the mystery spot house a little before midnight. None of you were sure what exactly you should be looking for. You decided to split up from the boys in order to cover more ground. You entered a room off to the side as Sam and Dean searched the main room. You suddenly heard a commotion from the other room and went to return to your brothers. As you turned, you noticed that the door you had just walked through was now shut. You tried the handle as you heard the situation escalate outside. The door seemed to be inexplicably jammed, despite the fact that you’d just gone through it a moment ago. A gunshot rings out from the other side of the door and you slam your full weight into it. You’re hoping that your weight will be enough to force the door open, but it remains closed. You scream out for your brothers as the door remains locked.

“Sam! Dean! Where are you?”

~~~~~

You wake up suddenly from what feels like a bad dream. The song Heat Of The Moment fills your ears as you take in the scene around you. Dean sits on the edge of your shared bed, getting ready for the day. Him and Sam appear to be bantering about the song on the radio. You get the strangest feeling of Déjà vu. You look to Sam and see the bewildered expression on his face. He seems to look just as confused as you feel. You stay silent as you wait for your brothers to get ready in the morning. You decide not to say anything about your dream or overwhelming sense of Déjà vu. You’re not sure what to say, anyhow. As the three of you step into the diner, you watch the patrons again. Except this time you couldn’t help but notice that everything that was happening around you perfectly matched the dream you had had last night. Right down to the same creep who turned to wink at you as you slid into the booth. After the waitress takes your orders, Sam finally says what you’ve been thinking.

“You don’t- you don’t remember any of this?” Sam gestures vaguely to everything around you.

“Yes! Yes exactly!” Sam turns to face you as you exclaim. “Like all of this has happened before, right?” Sam nods at you as Dean continues to look lost.

“You mean like Déjà vu?” Dean asks. You shake your head at him. He clearly doesn’t seem to understand.

“No, I mean like it’s REALLY happened before.” Sam continues.

“Yeah, like Déjà vu.” You sigh as you realize Dean probably isn’t about to figure this out any time soon.

“Obviously it’s not Déjà vu, Dean. I mean, why would Sammy and I both be experiencing Déjà vu at the exact same time?” Dean just shrugs at you and you sigh again. The waitress then comes back to deliver your food. Her hot sauce begins to topple. You and Dean watch as Sam instinctively reaches his hand out to catch it.

The rest of the day continues just as it had yesterday. You all finish your food and walk down the street. Sam continues trying to fill Dean in on the situation. You had already given up on convincing Dean about halfway through breakfast. He obviously wasn’t going to listen. Finally you all come to the decision to visit the mystery spot again. You trip over the sidewalk as Sam and Dean continue on ahead of you. You look down to find your shoelace has come undone. You shout at the boys to go on ahead and you bend down to tie your shoe. Your head snaps up suddenly as you hear a crash. You look up to see a car stopped in the middle of the road. Sam’s body shields your view from the bloodied up Dean on the floor. You get up to run over to them but you find yourself tripping again. By the time you’re able to get your bearings and make your way over to your brothers, your eyes snap open and you wake up in the motel again.

It continues on like this for about a hundred different Tuesdays. Sam spends the morning trying to convince Dean that you’re stuck in a time loop, you all walk down the same street discussing your next move, and at some point during the day Dean dies. His death varies from day to day. One day, Dean slips in the shower. The next, he gets hit in the face with an axe. And every day, without fail, you always happen to miss it. You’re always looking in the wrong direction or just in the other room when it happens. As horrific as the situation is, you can’t help but feel somewhat relieved that you have yet to actually witness your brother die. You feel bad for Sammy. He spends every day trying to prevent Dean from dying. Trying to make it to Wednesday. You help, of course. But you at least can take comfort in the fact that when something happens, you won’t be there to see it. You can’t imagine what it’s like to actually see Dean die every. single. day. By the end of it, you and Sam are able to perfectly recite every line someone says, every little thing that happens, and you know everything that Dean is going to say and do in every given circumstance. The two of you know everything about this town and every person in it. Well, all except one. The man who winks at you every day never seems to get involved. No matter the situation or circumstance, the three of you never seem to run into him. It’s an odd detail, but you push it out of your mind. The information seeming unhelpful for the time being. There finally seems to be a break in the case when Dean speaks to the missing person’s daughter. A hundred Tuesday’s gone by and you’d never thought to check the fliers in her hand.

This time when you wake suddenly in your motel, you feel invigorated. You enter the diner with a pep in your step. You feel good about the information the professor’s daughter had given you. You finally might be able to figure this out now. And when the man at the counter turns to wink at you, you wink back. You watch as the man’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, as though he hadn’t been expecting you to reciprocate. You pull your attention away from him to focus on Sam. He had brought his laptop this morning in order to do a little more research into Dexter Hassleback. As the three of you sit there discussing the victim, you watch as the flirtatious man from before pays for his food and walks out. ‘That’s new’ You think idly. But you suppose that you hadn’t stuck around the diner long enough in the past to watch him finish his meal. You all pay for your meal and stand to leave as Dean let’s out a laugh.

“It’s funny, you know. I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on mystery spots and then he vanishes in one. It’s kind of poetic, you know? Like just desserts.” You freeze as you hear that phrase. Your stomach sinks as Dean walks past you. It couldn’t be possible... You look to Sam to gauge his reaction, but he’s too busy looking at the plate the man from before had left. Dean walks back to the two of you to ask what’s wrong

“Guy has maple syrup for the past hundred Tuesdays. All of a sudden he’s having strawberry?” You meet Sam’s gaze as a look of understanding passes between the two of you.

~~~~~

The next day, or rather next Tuesday, you and Sam are prepared. You are not staying in this time loop for another minute. The man winked at you again as you sat down and it took all of your energy not to try and stab him on the spot. You had to be strategic about this. You remained quiet as you ate your breakfast. You noticed that your mystery man was back to maple syrup today. But it was too late, he’d already given himself away. A trickster had locked you and Sam in a time loop. And you two would not rest until you were free. You didn’t bother trying to catch Dean up. You just waited until the man left the diner. Sam grabbed the paper bag containing a wooden stake and the two of you rose from your seats to follow him out.

Sam grabbed the trickster and pinned him to a nearby fence. You stood by to ensure that the man doesn’t get a chance to make a break for it. Dean seems confused as Sam digs the stake into his neck. You hold Dean by the shoulder to ensure he doesn’t stop Sam.

“I know who you are. Or should I say ‘what’?” Sam looks clearly pissed as he threatens the trickster. As he had every right to be. This guy had been screwing with you for the past hundred something days. Your face is stoic as you watch Sam confront the man. You didn’t flinch as the man shot you a desperate look. This bastard deserved whatever he got. And when Dean tried to intervene, you just kept hold of him. This trickster was good, you’d give him that. He kept pleading with you and Sam.

“Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space—“

“Don't lie to me!” Sam cut him off. “I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!” Your stoic expression falters at that. The trickster from before, ‘Gabe’ as he called himself, flashed in your mind. It had been almost a year, but for some reason you still found yourself upset when remembering what happened to him. This new trickster seems to notice your grief as it flashes on your face for a moment. You steel yourself again, but you know it’s too late. He had already noticed. He smiled at you before transforming before your eyes. You watched in terror as the man’s face took the shape of Gabe’s.

“Actually, bucko, you didn’t.” Gabe quirked his eyebrows up at you as you stared in disbelief.

“How... this isn’t...” You stutter out in shock. You didn’t know what to say. The trickster that you had felt so drawn to, who you thought was dead was standing here before you. He frowned at the look on your face. He looked as though he had been expecting you to be a bit more cheerful upon seeing him. Perhaps he had forgotten the hell that he had been putting you all through.

“Why are you doing this?” The trickster turns his attention back to Dean.

“You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time.” He gave you a pointed look as he said this and you felt your blood boil. He couldn’t seriously be upset at you for that, could he? “Why wouldn't I do this?”

“And Hasselback,” Dean speaks up. “what about him?”

“That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one.” The trickster chuckles as he finishes his sentence. He looks at each of you in turn as if gauging your reactions. Your face quickly shows him that you’re not amused.

“Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town. I’d recognize your gorgeous baby sis anywhere.” He waggled his eyebrows as Dean pushed you behind him.

“Watch it, asshole.” Dean points a finger at his chest and Gabe just rolls his eyes.

“So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?” The trickster’s attention is once again pulled back to Sam. He looks at him as though he had forgotten the taller Winchester was even there.

“One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?”

“Why? Why do this?” You ask desperately as you step past your brother. For a moment you see a look of guilt flash in Gabe’s eyes. He swallows slowly as he tries to find the right words.

“Because the two of you?” You see Gabe’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Sam. “You need to learn. How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what.” You take an uncertain step back as the man speaks. His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You see his eyes slide shut for a moment and you get the sense that the trickster’s heart isn’t completely in this. Before you can say anything else, Sam starts up again.

“Oh yeah? I kill you, this all ends now.” The guilt from before fades from the trickster’s face and he suddenly looks... panicked? That doesn’t seem right. From what Dean told you, he didn’t even seem to break a sweat last time you tried to kill him.

“Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear.” You want nothing more than for him to be telling the truth. You didn’t want your brothers to have to kill him. Again, that is. But you knew better than to trust the trickster this time around.

“You're lying.” Sam says what you’re all thinking.

“If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner.” Sam turns to look at you and Dean.

“No. Easier to just kill you.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that.” The trickster snaps his fingers and everything goes black.

~~~~~

You woke again abruptly. But this time you noticed the lack of Asia playing on the radio. You look at Sam as he exclaims ‘it’s Wednesday!’ The two of you share a cheerful look as Dean just watched the two of you, a confused expression fixed on his face. It turns out that despite it being Wednesday, Dean still has no recollection of what happened beyond your last Tuesday. You’re secretly grateful that he doesn’t remember the hundreds of times that he had been killed. You all pack your things and try to get the hell out of this town as quickly as possible. You all agreed to let the trickster go for now, in return for not ending up in (most likely) another time loop.

You and Sam are still in the motel room when you hear gunfire. Sam bolts out ahead of you as you struggle to keep up. You see Sam leaning over your brother's body, and all the while as you approach you expect to be transported back into your bed. To wake up like nothing ever happened. You kneel on the ground beside Sammy. You stare down in shock as you watch your older brother bleed out on the floor. You can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Sam, witnessing this a hundred times over. It takes a few hours for you to realize that you weren’t about to get a do over.

~~~~~

You spend the first few months with Sam searching for the trickster, but as things became more desperate Sam started to separate himself from you. Most of your days were spent in a haze. You drank, you cried, and you prayed. You prayed to anyone that could hear you for your brother to be returned to you. You even prayed to the trickster every once in a while. You weren’t sure he would hear you, but Bobby had once mentioned that he was basically a demigod and you figured it didn’t hurt to try. You prayed for months and not once did you receive any answer. It was clear to you that the trickster simply didn’t care, and any kind feels you had for him turned into hatred. He had lied to you, tortured you, and then he stole your brother from you. It wasn’t fair. You knew you were going to lose your brother eventually, but you still had a year to spend with him. Before it was torn away from you by a monster.

It came as a shock when Bobby called. You had never expected to actually find the trickster. And yet, Bobby had found him. You told the older hunter that you’d meet him as soon as possible. You drove through the night, eager to get back to where it all started. The mystery spot. You get a sense of unease as you walk into the house. You tried to steel yourself for what lied ahead, but nothing could prepare you for the scene you walked in on. Your brother Sam was standing over Bobby's corpse. A wooden stake protruding from the man’s back. You let out a gasp and Sam turned to look at you.

“Y/N!” You cover your mouth with your hand.

“What have you done?” You fix Sam with a wide eyed stare.

“You don’t understand. That’s not Bobby.” You look at him like he had lost his mind. “He’s the trickster, I swear.” You take a step back as Sam tries to walk toward you. “He’s going to turn back into the trickster at any moment.” A few moments pass and the two of you watch the corpse. Nothing happens. “Bobby...” Suddenly the corpse disappears and the wooden stake flies past you. You turn to see the trickster smiling at you, stake in hand.

“You’re right. I was just screwing with you.” Gabe says to Sam. You stare in shocked silence at the appearance of the trickster. “Pretty good though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket.”

“Bring him back.” Sam pleads.

“Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak.” You shake your head as a tear escapes your eye. It couldn’t be true. There had to be something he could do.

“Please Gabe.” You whisper it so quietly you’re not sure anyone would hear you. But when he turns to take in your tear stained face, you know he did. You hole your head high as he peers at you. You want him to see your tears. You want him to know that he did this to you. The pained look in the trickster’s eyes is almost tangible. Sam continues on, unaware that you’d even spoken.

“Just take us back to that Tuesday—er, Wednesday—when it all started. Please. We won't come after you, I swear.” Gabe’s eyes fall back to your brother.

“You swear?”

“Yes.”

“I don't know. Even if I could—” You can’t help but notice the reluctant expression the trickster wears. You can’t help but get the impression that the trickster isn’t particularly enjoying this. 

“You can.”

“True. But that don't mean I should.” You don’t even try to hide the hurt expression on your face. Gabe lets out a harsh sigh as he continues. “Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours.”

“Lesson? What lesson?”

“This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. BOTH of you. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.” Suddenly it all clicks into place. This wasn’t the same as his usual tricks. Gabe didn’t want to be doing this. But for some reason, he felt as though he needed to teach you this. You feel your anger towards him melt a bit.

“You’re right.” Your sudden agreement seemed to jar the men. You use this as an opportunity to get closer to the trickster. He seems wary as you step toward him. You brush Sam’s hand off your shoulder when he attempts to stop you. “You are right.” You repeat more to yourself than to him. You stare down at your feet for a moment. You hate that you agree with him, but everything he said was true. How long had your family been running in circles? Trying desperately to save each other and sacrificing everything in the process. You steel yourself as you look into Gabe’s eyes. “This has gone on for too long. It can’t go on like this.” You take one of Gabe’s hands in yours. You can see the relief in the trickster’s eyes. You know that Sam wants to protest, but you don’t give him the chance. “That being said,” You start and Gabe immediately groans in frustration. He tried to pull his hand back, but you keep it firmly in your grasp. “He is still our brother.” 

“And here I thought you’d actually learned something for a second there.” Gabe rolls his eyes as he speaks. It was clear that he didn’t like it when you disagreed with him. You give his hand a tug in order to draw his attention back to you. Once his eyes settled back on you, you started again. 

“We only have a year left with him.” You speak firmly. “And you took that from us.” Guilt again flashes across the trickster’s expression. “Please, just let us have this time with him. We’re already going to lose him. Don’t force us to lose him any sooner than we need to.” More tears slide down your cheek as you finish your little speech. You stare silently at each other for a moment. Sam takes this opportunity to chime in.

“Please. Just—please.” Gabe sighs and pulls his hand from your grip. And you let him this time. He shakes his head at the both of you and lets out a soft chuckle. Dread overloads your system as you wait to see what happens next. Gabe gives you one last glance before sliding back into trickster mode.

“I swear, it's like talking to two brick walls.” He points between the both of you. “Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago.” Gabe shrugs before turning to focus solely on Sam. “You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it.”

“Meaning what?” Sam asks cautiously.

“Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out.” Before either of you can get a word in, the trickster raises his hand and snaps his fingers.

~~~~~

The trickster had kept his promise. Well. he hadn’t made a promise exactly, but you felt as though he had. Either way, he teleported both you and Sam back to that Wednesday morning. You had to do your best not to sob into your older brother’s arms the moment you saw him. After six months without Dean, you were just happy to have him back. The three of you managed to get out of town without incident. As you sat in the back of the impala, you sent out a thank you to the trickster. You weren’t sure if he could hear you or not, but you just hoped he knew how grateful you were to have your brother back. Now you just had to focus on keeping him. You felt guilty about lying to the trickster before. You hadn’t meant to of course. But being here now, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you would do anything to save your brother Dean Winchester.

[kirencer]

febuary seventh (i’m seeing you)

Y/n and Spencer's relationship collide around a single day: the one where they first looked into each others eyes.

[Or, the all of the secret love letters they wrote during the beginning of their relationship]

Word count: (part one and two) 9.2k

Relationship: Spencer Reid x GN! Reader

Warnings: Language, dub-con (pool kiss scene is depicted as something that made Spencer uncomfy), vulgar language, allusion to Spencer for a moment being horny

Rating: Gen audiences

A/N: All of these letters are rewrites of ones I got from someone, as well as rewrites of ones I gave them. Reader is GN and AFAB but a trans masc reader was more in mind (the French bits)

Part One

Y/n L/n— Jan 15 (2008) 11:31

Not sure if you'll ever read this but, je suis amoureux de toi. I love you, so much. It’s almost maddening

Sometimes, I just sit at my desk, thinking about you, thinking about us. You've stolen my heart and made a home in my mind. I love the idea of our future and I can't wait for it. I want to share everything with you; a last name; a home; a bed; a family; everything (except a toothbrush, that's a bit too close, sorry!)

Y/n L/n— Jan 15 (2008) 11:55

I can't wait to touch you, to hug you, kiss you, run my hands through your hair or wrap my arms around your hips and hold you close to me.

I can't wait to wake up next to you, to dance with you, to just be with you. I want to spend the rest of forever with you. I want to listen to your voice, to hear you talk about nothing in specific, just speaking so I hear your beautiful voice. Even if I’ve never heard it, I know it’s beautiful.

I can't wait to grow old with you. I hope the last thing I see before nothingness is you, your perfect face.

Y/n L/n— Jan 26 (2008) 22:22

This feels awkward to admit.

I usually consider myself smart, or at least good with words but with you in the picture, all English escapes me; with just a thought of you, I can barely manage a sentence, you get me so flustered I can't even think properly.

Though I'd be a damn liar if I said I didn't like the way you make me feel.

Y/n L/n— Feb 7, (2008) 04:10

Y/n L/n, I want you to be my forever, I love you more than anything (even reading and that says a lot).

I'm not feeling great right now which makes it hard to think of the words I'm trying to say but that won't really stop me.

You're the vowels to my consonants, you may not feel like a lot but you're so fucking important. I want to wake up next to you, your pretty face - have I mentioned I love your face? - holding each other, our bodies tangled together and someday having to break apart to check on our children.

I want to just exist with you, I don't care what happens as long as I'm with you. I want to dance around our kitchen at midnight, in only underwear just because, it won't matter, it's our lives and we're together. I want to just talk to you, maybe sitting on a roof at two in the morning, staring at the sky and not caring that it's out of reach because the only thing I want to touch is the person next to me.

Y/n, you are my tomorrow and I can't wait for you to be my today.

Y/n L/n— Feb 7, (2008) 11:20

I saw you smile today, like for real, in person. It was the most beautiful sight I've ever experienced. It made me feel like the most important thing in existence, it was perfect and for that moment, everything was okay, nothing mattered but you.

I didn't think I could love you more than I already did, I wasn't sure it was physically possible, and then I saw you, in person, in the town I've lived since I was 22, in the convention center I'd been so many times before.

With you sitting here the place feels important, this place is special. You're right here, right now and I've never been so happy.

I'm so nervous, but I'm happy, I mean you're here, this is all real, and god you so much more than perfect.

I can tell you really love DnD because the second I walked into the hall, I saw you were smiling.

This is honestly just a room full of nerds but that's cool, everyone's happy to be here, and I’d be the biggest liar if I said I wasn’t a nerd.

Y/n L/n— Feb 7, (2008) 19:50

I spoke to you, it took way too long, longer than I'd like to admit, but I did it.

I hugged you today, I made you smile. I wanted to kiss you, properly. I was too nervous though, I was scared. (Touches are scary enough as just a thought!) I also knew that if I kissed you it'd just make us both even more upset about being apart again. I'm so glad I got to spend almost half of the day with you, it was amazing.

We sang together and I've never felt so comfortable than in those moments, reciting poetry with you was probably the best part of my day aside from you kissing me . We also laughed together a lot and you let me lay on your shoulder, I almost fell asleep twice. It was really nice, just being with you, even though we weren't even close enough to touch each other most of the time.

I can't wait to see you again, I might count the days!

Y/n L/n— Feb 8, (2008) 01:33

I have to admit, when I first caught a glimpse of you, I only saw your hair.

The back of your head from maybe thirty feet away.

I saw your hair, and everything slowed down, I moved forward, I can't remember how fast- that part's a bit of a blur- I got closer and my whole body froze up, maybe I was still a little cold, but I couldn't bring myself to move, kind of glad my scarf covered half of my face. I watched, seeing more and more of you as time passed, just small glimpses of your adorable face, and it felt like every part of my body was on fire.

My heart was racing and I couldn't believe it, this was real, I was real, you were real and we were mere seconds away from each other, finally.

I turned around and walked out - I was overheating in my sweater – and I came back to keep watching you. This was around the time you, I think, actually noticed me, but you weren't the only one. They knew I was looking for you - well, looking at you, really. They asked questions and I gave half-witted, half-baked responses, still watching you then you looked at me, you smiled. My heart stopped and for a moment, I thought you'd killed me, with your stunning looks, obviously. I smiled back when I was finally self aware again, and the next thing I know, I'm sitting two feet away from you, and shaking.

Y/n L/n— Feb 8, (2008) 20:20

I'm starting to think I'm obsessed with you, that I'm addicted to you, anyway. That’s a bit of a problem, I’ve told you about Dilaudid so you understand why.

You asked me to sit with you and your party, I had already decided that I wanted to, and I was going to try to, I had just really wanted to be close to you, I wanted to touch you, you were so close but so fucking far.

I wanted nothing more than for you to steal my first kiss, though I knew I wouldn't mind if you didn't, I'm an impatient person, I'm perfectly okay going your speed, whatever that may be. I will say honestly, it wouldn’t be my first kiss. My true first kiss was in a pool, truly against my will. I’ve erased what I can from that and will regard the first time my lips are on yours as my first kiss.

I didn’t just end up with your party, I was a part of it. I played your character (bee-da), and I used the dice set you gave me. I was excited but I also felt the fatigue setting in. I started shifting closer to you, moving my body closer to yours. I fought to hold in a whine when you'd move in your seat, making it a bit harder for me to do what I was trying to do.

I offered you a hug, it was kind of selfish, I was truly asking more for myself than I'd like to admit. You said yes and I felt the weight on my heart disappear. I hugged you and I felt okay. It's a feeling I'd sacrifice my life to feel again. I laid my head on your shoulder and I felt you shift for me, you made sure I was comfortable, I'm not sure if you even realized you'd done it.

I was only growing more tired as the afternoon continued, I knew why (I hadn't been eating, at all, really) but I wasn't going to tell you. I began to doze off a few times, it was difficult trying to stay awake while feeling more comfortable and safe than ever before.

I just wanted you.

All I want is you

All I've wanted for a while now, is you

I want you so badly. In so many ways.

Y/n L/n— Feb 9, (2008) 08:08

I love you

The words I felt on the tip of my tongue for hours before I actually said them to you. I really wanted to, I wanted to sit next to you, mumble 'I love you' so quietly that it was just for your ears and kiss you, so that everyone saw. I didn't and I'm kind of upset with myself but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable, you'd just said you were so nervous.

I watched you eat, you didn't seem to eat much so I hoped you'd been eating before I got back. I wanted right then as we sat across from each other to announce it, so all of your friends could hear (or at least some), and say 'i love you'. I didn't, I was scared, I was nervous, of making you uncomfortable.

When I sat next to you, I still wanted to say it, I wanted to sing it, to shout it, anything and everything I could to show you just how much I love you. I tried to force the words out, they wouldn't come and for the first time in a while, I was upset with my anxiety. I kept looking at you and glancing at you, hoping it wasn't obvious that I was so upset. I want to smash my head into the table but I knew you'd notice that.

When I finally said 'I love you' the satisfaction was so great, it's indescribable. You said it back and I felt so good, I don't know why it felt so different feeling you say it, right next to me, but it was. I wanted to keep saying it, 'I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you' I didn't, I was scared to annoy you.

I wanted to kiss you, so many times that day, that still perfect day. When I first saw you, part of me wanted to run over and pull you into my arms and kiss you. I didn't, I didn't want to be the one to make a scene. I wanted to call out to you, I wanted to shout, "Y/n!" I wanted you to see me, to hear me, but I chose to wait.

When I was sitting near you, I wanted to turn around and press a kiss to the back of your head, I kept turning around, trying to force myself to do it. I never did. When we were centimeters away from each other, I wanted to press a kiss to your cheek, to your neck, your nose, your lips. I was scared of someone seeing at that point. I was kind of scared of your friends, that's why I didn't talk much.

I wanted to be closer to you, I was already so close, I was touching you for half of the day, but I wanted to be closer, I couldn't help it, I was seeing you in person for the first time, you're even prettier in person, and you smelled so nice and it felt so familiar already even though I had never experienced anything like it.

I wanted you. I still do, I always do, you're just so perfect, how could I not?

Y/n L/n— Feb 9, (2008) 09:47

You pulled my hair, I'd really wanted you to do it again. I– I had to bite my lip or I'd have definitely let out a sound, I honestly wasn't prepared for that and becoming- in front of your friends was not on my agenda, actually.

I can still feel it, the sensation of your hands reaching into my hair to run through it and tugging, I loved that feeling. And I would walk a hundred (and twenty) miles to feel it again, among everything else, I hope you know that.

Y/n L/n— Feb 9, (2008) 11:15

I love you so much it hurts.

I love you so much that it brings me physical pain to think about the fact that I can't touch you, the fact that I can't kiss you, the fact that I can't run my hands through your hair when I can't sleep at night.

It hurts a lot, but I know my patience and my pain will be worthwhile once I can do it. When I can once again see your eyes gleam with a perfect kind of joy, when I can hold you, my arms around you, and yours around me.

I swear to the gods, as soon as I'm able I'm going to see you again, nothing will stop me, I will fight anything standing in my way.

I love you so much it hurts. It's a pain that'll make me stronger. I'm okay with that.

Y/n L/n— Feb 9, (2008) 14:45

This one’s a little different. I’m sorry

When Morgan called me to say we had a case, I got upset, he knew how excited I had been to be able to see you. I wanted to yell at him and I almost did, then I remembered where I was, and who was around me. A bunch of people who didn’t deserve to watch/listen to me have a mental breakdown down on the phone, so instead of arguing, for your sake, I just agreed.

I wanted to run out there and scream at him, but I knew I wasn't thinking. i was letting my emotions take over, so i didn’t. I went back and hugged you, one last time. I wanted to cry because I knew it wouldn’t last long enough. I wanted so badly to stay there and tell my mentor to fuck off, I didn’t. Maybe I should’ve.

When I got back to my city, to my place of work, I just sat at my desk until we left for the airport. I didn’t even change. I’m surprised I didn't start crying. The relief I had felt from seeing you was gone and left behind was a frustration and want that had to have been tangible. I kept writing my next letter to you because it was my only comfort other than the lingering feeling of your presence and the memory of your scent. I ended up falling asleep on the jet, I can't remember when, I was too upset.

I woke up, some part of me expecting to be somewhere else, I just wanted to recover from the nightmare I’d had- I don’t know why it happened but it did and I wanted to cry, it felt disgustingly real. I just wanted someone to comfort me and tell me everything’s okay and that I’m safe. But I don’t have that. I’m sorry, the highlight of my day today has been writing to you and reading what you wrote.

Y/n L/n— Feb 9, (2008) 15:45

I’m so scattered right now, but I think about you and I feel okay. You’re not really just my tomorrow anymore. You are my today and my tomorrow, you have been the entire time, I’m just blind.. You’re my forever, and I love that. I keep getting lost in my thoughts thinking about you, damn, imagine if you were next to me, I couldn't possibly stay on track doing anything, you’re such a distraction. I love you.

Y/n L/n— Feb 10, (2008) 09:10

I have yet to actually tell you this and I feel kind of bad you're finding out this way but it's also the reason why I haven't told you about it.

A few weeks ago, my attacks had gotten worse and I've been fighting nightmares almost nightly.

Friday, I was really fucking nervous, I was partially convinced that you'd hate me when you saw me, you didn't though, that was relieving. I was literally shaking, I was terrified. When you said hi, as awkward as it felt and was, it made me feel less anxious. I felt bad when I left because I didn't want you to think I wasn't coming back.

I was trying really hard to seem like I wasn't about to cry but I was so anxious and I felt like it wasn't working. You didn't ask so I told myself it was fine, eventually, I was alright, it was really calming just being around you, and I liked that a lot.

I love you lots and I really hope I can come to see you on your birthday. If there is a case, I will see you as soon as I can.

Y/n L/n— Feb 10, (2008) 12:12

I had a dream

I'm glad I had it, it was nice.

I remember as I fell asleep I wished for the warmth and comfort of another human, specifically you, because I decided if I had to overheat I wanted it to be because I had my favorite person next to me. I was kinda disappointed in the gods when I woke up and you weren't there though.

I was dreaming that we were together, I've no clue where we were but we were in a bed, cuddling. I have no idea what led up to this moment, but I don't think I need to know. Your arms were around me, your hair was in my face and I could feel you breathing. It was amazing, you were talking to me, I can't remember everything you said, but there were a lot of 'I love you's and it was perfect. It was soft and warm and quiet and peaceful.

I can't wait for it to come true.

Y/n L/n— Feb 11, (2008) 19:22

When I was little, I wanted everything in my life to be big, beautiful and expensive. I wanted the perfect girlfriend (or boyfriend, I didn't care), a huge wedding, and a big family. So much has changed since then.

All I want now, is to be alive and happy with my better half, my soulmate, my perfect match. Whether that means listening to the stomping of small children early on a Saturday morning, being woken up by an impatient animal, or sleeping all day because it's just us, I want that happy, I want that calm, I want that perfect.

I want weird dates and long drives for no reason. I want stupid jokes and petty arguments. I want movie nights and warm cuddles. I want everything-

with you

All of these things are things I can't imagine experiencing with someone that isn't you. Whether it's waking up late and rushing to get ready (so cliche), arguing over what to make for dinner or saying our vows in front of everyone we love, I have to do it with you.

I don't want to imagine a world where we aren't us (regardless of who 'we' are), because that world isn't right, but this one is.

I like us. I like us a lot.

Y/n L/n— Feb 12, (2008) 09:04

My sweater still kinda smells like you. I'm wearing it today and I've just noticed. It's fading even as I type this and I don't think it'll last all day but it's comforting nonetheless. I hadn't touched it since Friday so it's lasted almost a week. I'm secretly so happy your scent has lingered, it's soft and warm and calming. (Like vanilla, you remind me of vanilla) I kinda hope I don't fall asleep at work.

Y/n L/n— Feb 12, (2008) 09:20

My mind is always buzzing– there's always so much happening, sometimes you can see it, in my eyes. There's one thing, only one, that's always on my mind.

You, Y/n L/n, you.

Even if I'm sitting doing work or if I'm reading, you're here and there and somewhere in my mind.

Sometimes you're the only thing I can think about, your soft hair, and eyes that shine so fucking bright; your warm smile and adorable laugh; your beautiful voice and perfect personality.

This is random but when you realized you were shorter than me you seemed so deflated and tried to stand on your tippy-toes and that was just precious. You had this look on your face and the way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up was just perfect.

Morgan says he’s going to New York in a few weeks. I've been asking if I could go with him because if I can't see you on your birthday, I want to at least see you again soon. And I don’t like driving. Or long train rides.

Tu fais battre mon coeur.

Y/n L/n— Feb 12 (2008) 15:30

It's only like two days away so I want to ask

Will you be my valentine?

Y/n L/n— Feb 12 (2008) 17:00

I've said some very bold things in just the past few months we've been together and I think I'm changing my mind about a few things.

I want to be a foster parent, just as much as I want my own children, because everyone deserves love.

I still don't want to try and adopt/foster babies, everyone does that, I want teens, kids who've spent years and the system because they need the most love.

I wanna know how you feel about that idea.

Y/n L/n— Feb 12 (2008) 17:12

I have a few things to say.

I was right, the smell definitely did not last all day, it was gone by lunch. The flannel still reminds me of that smell though, so it's okay.

I really hope you like long rants with no particular point because sometimes I start talking and forget how to stop, especially if I'm comfortable around someone.

I've had casual conversions with my mother about you on a few occasions. She loves you and says I should run up to you this minute and carry you to my apartment. I think I’m going to listen to her.

Y/n L/n— Feb 12, (2008) 18:18

This isn't directly about you but that doesn't really matter, right?

So Morgan.

He keeps calling me straight

And if he does it again.

I will kick him.

Just letting you know in case it happens and Hotch yells at me. I love you!

Y/n L/n— Feb 13 (2008) 02:40

I shouldn't be awake right now but I am. As I sit on my bed, I can't help but think about how, if we were together, in the same bed, you'd probably be awake too by now. You'd be asking me if I was okay, I think, and I tell you the truth because I'm so bad at lying, it isn't even worth the try. You probably comfort me, pulling me into your body, wrapping your arms around me and probably kissing me. Just the thought makes me feel a little better but it's not happening, you know? You're not sitting next to me, you aren't kissing me and whispering, "I'm right here, it's okay." because that isn't true.

I just woke up from a nightmare, I can confidently call this a nightmare for two reasons, so I will. I was kind of panicking when I woke up because I was so fucking scared, I couldn't breathe (in more ways than one) and I was crying. It's disgusting and I'm still upset.

Thinking about you being here vs. not, makes it clear that I need you, so fucking much, I need you, Y/n. I love you, and I need you and I want you. It's making me crazy that I can't even say this to you right now.

Tu es mon soleil.

Y/n L/n— Feb 14, (2008) 04:15

I know, I know, my sleep schedule is terrible, I'm sorry.

Happy Valentine's day, love, I'm so happy to be 'celebrating' with you, you're the best valentine and you're my valentine.

Thank you so much for (almost) five beautiful months, I love you so much and I am so excited for forever together.

Though, right now, more than anything, I want to kiss every single inch on your beautiful body, maybe even kiss them all two or three times.

I love your eyes. They shine as bright as stars.

I love your smile, the smile you had when you first noticed me is my favorite. Your lips, which I also love, part in a perfect kind of way and I love it.

I love your lips, the look of them, when you smile, when you're serious or when you frown; the feeling of them pressed to my skin, with the passion and feeling of your love for me. I love your lips, even if you don't.

I love your nose, it's adorable and I kind of want to kiss it; it's so adorable and I love that, you're so adorable.

I love your skin, the soft burning of it making contact with mine, the feeling when you touch me. I love everything about you, even the parts I don't know yet, I love even the idea of having the privilege of being able to love them.

So on this day of love, Y/n L/n, I love you so, so much, my heart is in your hands, do with it as you please.

Y/n L/n— Feb 14 (2008) 15:40

I like the name Y/n , I can't really explain why but I do. I really like the name Y/n.

I also like children more than I thought I would. I spent an hour at my JJ’s yesterday and my godson, Henry, he makes me think even more about having kids with you.

Y/n L/n— Feb 14 (2008) 15:55

You asked me what type of pretty you are.

You're the best kind of pretty, honestly.

You're the kind of pretty that makes my heart melt.

You're the kind of pretty that makes my chest feel tight (in a good way, of course).

You're the kind of pretty that makes a bad day amazing with just one look.

You're the kind of pretty that just makes the world seem less than terrible.

You're my favorite kind of pretty

Y/n L/n— Feb 14 (2008) 20:33

I should make this quick.

You are literally the most perfect part of my life, the only part of my life I hope never changes. You'd better be my forever because I can't ask for anyone better.

I'm stocking up on so many fucking hugs for you, I can not wait to hug you again, my body craves it.

I have to go now.

Y/n L/n— Feb 20 (2008) 11:25

I haven’t been writing much, but there’s so much I want to say, even though I can’t find the words. This is so difficult. I know so many languages and yet they’re all gone with one thought of you.

Y/n L/n, you have invaded every single part of my mind, I’m more than okay with that.

The problem arises with the fact that I can’t stand not having some type of contact with you. It just feels wrong and I’m overly anxious and paranoid.

Y/n L/n, having you in my life is a gift, and it’s the best gift I've ever gotten tbh.

My mind can’t fully recall the sound of your voice when you said ‘i love you’, or the sensation of your touch (your kisses and hugs, my head on your shoulder) but it’s there, and I hope it stays, long after this moment.

It’s kind of embarrassing to admit but sometimes the reason I keep going is the possibility of you, with me again, no matter how far away that event may be.

Y/n L/n— Feb 21 (2008) 22:25

I hope your polaroid camera starts to work soon because getting pictures from you is my favorite thing ever. Morgan said I should just give you my number, but I enjoy what we have. Our letters are more than enough.

Y/n L/n— Feb 21 (2008) 23:57

It's really late

I may or may not have had a little bit of alcohol.

You're really pretty!!!!!

I may or may not be about to drink more of the maybe alcohol...

Y/n L/n— Feb 22 (2008) 14:40

You sent me a CD. I put it in my player. I see you, you’re reading me The Little Prince because you said I need something to listen to to sleep. It's the best book I've ever heard and hearing you read it makes it so beautiful, every word, it's all perfect coming from your mouth, with your voice from your lips. I could listen for literally forever. Y/n L/n you are my today.

Y/n L/n— Mar 2 (2008) 22:55

I think about our future a lot. Usually it's good, sometimes it isn't. As with all things in life, there are details. Sometimes when I think about our future I'm only focusing on the things I know I want like, you next to me- with a ring on your finger and a smile on your face, or both of us, shopping and planning for a baby, obviously our first based off of how overly cautious we're being.

Anything like that, really.

Sometimes though, I think about what I don't know, like, where are we? what's our home look like? What are our future schedules and routines gonna look like? I know I'm overthinking (I always am) but I truly can't help it, it's something that just happens?

Y/n L/n— Mar 7 (2008) 13:11

I’m upset we haven’t been talking as much but that’s my fault, I knew what kind of commitment being an agent took, so I can’t really complain, I am sorry though. I think about you a lot though, sometimes it’s just ‘I hope Y/n’s okay’ ‘I hope Y/n’s smiling right now’ or something like that. Sometimes I just think about the sound of your voice, the feeling of your presence, or just you in general, you’re always there, always somewhere in my head, on my mind. If I’m not thinking about you, I’m probably not thinking at all.

Y/n L/n— Mar 7 (2008) 18:44

Before you, I had convinced myself that love didn't exist, it wasn't something I'd ever truly felt. I thought fate was bullshit and I hated the idea of soulmates because I believed I'd never find mine. That is, until I saw your face. At that point, you were nothing more than a polaroid photo, stimuli sent from my retinas to my optic nerve. But I felt something new. Something changed, I didn't feel as cold anymore.

Before I met you, I had convinced myself, naively, that I'd be alone forever, that I'd never meet anyone who would put up with me long enough to learn to love me. And then you waltzed into my life and changed everything. It was surreal, you were too-good-to-be-true and I was as ready as I could've been for heartbreak. What I did experience was nowhere near as horrible as the feeling I get at the thought of losing you now.

After I met you, I thought about it a lot, do soulmates exist? Until that point there'd only been one person I wished to be my soulmate (which was dumb, looking back now) but some part of me was drawn to you in a way I wasn't drawn to her. My feelings for you were different from my feelings for her.

When I'd convinced myself you'd never want me, I was hurt, I'd ever felt such pain, a deep physical pain, the kind you never forget. I guess it doesn't matter now, because that's in the past and I should move on.

I have you now, and god, I've never been so happy. You, Y/n L/n, are my soulmate and I'm so glad that we were made for each other. I couldn't ask for a better partner, future spouse, or soulmate. You are my everything and you give me purpose. You are my purpose.

Y/n L/n— Mar 9 (2008) 7:45

I couldn't sleep last night, I was thinking about you and it kept me awake, I think. I tried distracting myself but I kept finding you everywhere. At that point, I just let it happen and eventually fell asleep.

I'm angry, angry that I don't get to see you, because god I love seeing your face (you are literally so fucking pretty) and I love being near you in general.

I'm scared, scared that I won't be able to see you, even when I physically can. I don't know why I just, I hate the thought but it won't go away, I just want to hug you.

Y/n L/n— Mar 23 23:47 (2008)

It’s been a while since I did this- tomorrow’s your birthday and I’m pissed because I won’t get to see you, I can’t wish you happy birthday in person, shit I don’t know if I’ll be able to wish you happy birthday at all but that’s a whole other thing. Anyway, (here’s hoping you see this on your actual birthday-) HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Things might now be great right now but you’ve been alive for all this time and god I’m so proud of you for being so strong. You are amazing and I’m so happy I know you, I hope you’re birthday is fucking awesome, if not, I guess I’ll have no choice but to do everything I possibly can to make it better. I love you, Y/n L/n.

That’s it. The decision has been made for me. I just got a call, see you in New York.

(it just turned midnight, happy birthday)

Y/n L/n— Mar 24 (2008) 21:32

I only saw you for a few hours but again it was perfect. Before I left I made up my mind to do something. Turning around I ran back to your door. You opened it up and were so confused but I didn’t care. My hands cupped your cheeks and I kissed you. I kissed you 15 more times after, and then I left for my hotel room. I left something behind though - it was on purpose - slung on your couch is my cardigan. I want you to wear it and think of me.

Y/n L/n— Mar 29 (2008) 09:48

I'm not good with my words, shocking seeing as I'm a genius but it's true. I am terrible with my words, especially when it comes to you I just, my mind goes blank and I can't even form partially coherent sentences. That's probably why I suck at talking to you, I just can't think around you, I think it's because you're so perfect, I mean, it's true and it makes sense.

I got your letter today. You’re moving to DC. I don’t think I’ve ever been more crazed or excited. Everyone’s noticed it. I love you.

Y/n L/n— February 7th, (2020) 20:28

I stopped doing this when you moved to me. Everything that could have been written was said to you.

You're different. You're changing.

It's not a bad thing, it was inevitable; I'm far from the person I was three years ago. I'm just awful about adjusting to changes.

I like that you're different, it shows you're discovering yourself, you're turning out. Your changing as a person won't change how I feel about you because no matter what, you are so much greater than the sum of your parts and I think that's beautiful. I think you're beautiful.

I could never tire of you, as cliché as it is, I fall in love with you over and over everyday. I fall in love with every new and old part of you, because they're all so perfect.

I'd be lying (a terrible lie, might I add) if I said I wasn't thinking about you every moment of every day. I'm constantly thinking of you; Maybe wishing we were together, maybe wondering if you're thinking about me too, maybe hoping you're doing okay, maybe imagining our tomorrows, maybe thinking about your smile and how it shines brighter than any and every existing light source.

I rambled, yikes.

There’s something I want to ask and it’s years overdue (sorry.) After prison I found this and two years later I know what I want to do with it. I’m giving it to you, I’m fully giving my heart to you.

Look up, bumblebee. I’m waiting.

part two

[blisslilywrites]

WE NEED MORE TOSHINORI OH MY GOD! Scenario where toshinori's sweetheart takes care of him after a long day being him, cooking his favorite meal, a hot bath READY to cover him on love because this man needs it 👌😤

A/N: Afjhkd anon im so sorry for taking so long with this,, I just kept rewriting cuz it didnt seem right but nvm that now. also maybe ignore how it seems like the start to smth angsty akjhgk hope you like this tho;3 ~lily

Lightning flashed across the sky as you sat in your living room watching tv. You bit your lip and nervously glanced out the window. A storm was starting outside and it was getting pretty late. 

Worry grew in you as you continued to stare outside, the show you were watching all but forgotten. You knew there’s no reason for you to worry though, he’s All Might after all. A little lightning storm shouldn’t be able to stop him...

Your phone buzzed and the screen lit up with a notification. 

‘Trains are delayed. Gonna be a little late. Sorry.’

You put the phone down and sighed. Hugging your knees to yourself, you tried to focus on the show playing on the tv, but you were just too fidgety. In quick succession, you grabbed the remote, stood up, turned the tv off, and walked into the kitchen.

Humming to yourself, you checked the fridge to see if you had all the ingredients needed to make none other than Toshinori’s favorite dish. Turns out you had everything you needed so you quickly took them out and started preparing. You chopped, sliced, boiled, simmered everything up all while the storm continued to roar outside. 

While you waited for the ingredients to cook, you decided to draw up a nice, hot bath for him too, since it seemed pretty cold outside and such.

The clock ticked close to midnight when you finally heard the familiar jingle of keys fumbling at the door. 

“Hi honey, sorry that took so long.”

“It’s fine—“ you turned to see him sheepishly  standing in the hallway, his clothes drenching wet. “Ok this is not fine.”

You quickly ran to get a towel and helped him dry off best you can. 

“There’s a bath waiting for you so you should probably get in there while it’s still warm.”

He smiled, “Thank you y/n.”

-----

After making sure he was all comfortable, you went back to the kitchen to continue preparing the meal. You finished a while later and started cleaning up when Toshinori walked into the kitchen in fresh clothes and the cute fluffy bunny slippers you set out for him.

You walked over and gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

He took a deep breath and his eyes widened slightly, “Y/n, do I smell--”

“Yep, decided to make some since I figured you were probably tired with work and all.”

“You didn’t have to do so much…”

“No, don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do with you being out there working your neck off to keep everyone safe,” you quickly interrupted. 

“Besides, all heroes, even the great All Might, need to relax every once in a while…”

He smiled so widely and looked at you with so much love and affection you thought he would burst. You blushed a little but quickly regained your composure and told him he better start eating before the food you worked so hard on gets cold. 

The two of you went to sit on the small table in the corner of the kitchen, which served as your informal dining table, and you asked him about his day and all that. 

-----

Once your late-night dinner was over and all the dishes were cleaned, you two made your way into the bedroom for some much-needed sleep.

“Y/n, thank you, I mean it,” Toshinori whispered when you crawled into bed next to him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

“Well, don’t worry too much about it, I’ll always be here.”

The only response you got was the sound of his deep snoring. You smiled as you nestled yourself by his side. Feeling safe and secure, you slowly drifted off as well. 

You’ll always be there for him just as you know he’ll always be there for you too...

[rainingonplants]

Tom M. Riddle x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: Manipulation & character death.

Word count: 1.2k Oneshot

A/N: Thinking of rewriting this!

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You were walking into the Slytherin common room and sat yourself down next to window that gives views of underwater of the Black lake. Thinking about events happening around you. Muggle-borns keep dying around you at Hogwarts. You never see it because you’re usually in the library or in a class. You only get to hear from other people. Tom never mentions it either.

He requested that you shouldn’t interact with fellow witches and wizards unless absolutely necessary. He never told tell you why, now you only really talked to people in your common house. Distancing yourself from other friends who aren’t. It felt off, something isn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it.

One of reasons of you guys meet was by reaching for the same restricted section book. You and Him have the same thirst for the Dark Arts. Yours is more of a casual thing but his was something else. His consumed his life but he acts like it doesn’t.

Before knowing him, you knew some of the horrible spells that you felt guilty for knowing from reading constantly in your spare time.

He would say “Knowing them won’t make a difference unless you use them.” And that made you feel better about it.

It made sense so you didn’t say anything and now you don’t. Plus, He was always one step of ahead of you in everything so who are you to question him.

Back to now, Your eyes followed reflections of light until your body was forced to spin around and your face landing into someone’s chest. Recognizing the smell of musk and vanilla belonging to Tom. His hand wrapped around your head, Kissing your forehead softly and smiled at you. You always found it odd that his smiles never reached his eyes. His eyes were deadpanned and just dead. Emotions were never present in them but you didn’t really mind.

“Tom?” Looking up at him, he slide his hand to your throat and caressed it in thought. He grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the common room. His robe bellowed as did yours, his footsteps echoing throughout the barely lit castle hallways.

“I need you to be a good girl and listen to me. Tonight, you’re gonna do some great for me.” He slowed down a bit as he spotted Abraxas Malfoy with a group of slytherins. He then stopped in-front of him.

He was startled at first and Tom gave him a nod. “You know what to do Malfoy.” Malfoy just nodded. “I want it done before I get there.” Malfoy went off as the group followed him.

“Tom?! What are we doing?” Trying to gain his attention as you stopped walking, tripping over self. He gripped your wrist tightly and it was going to bruise not that he cared. He hoisted you back up into his arms.

“You love me don’t you?” He stroked the side of your face. Putting a strand of hair back behind your ear. “If you love me, you’re gonna do this for me without fail. Every word I say, you’ll follow through with it.”

What’s wrong with him, never seeing him desperate. There’s a first for everything. “Of course I love you but what’s happening? What is abraxas going to do?”

“It’s not about what he’s going to do, it’s about a what you’re going to do on the first try.” As he started to pat your head like a pet. His eyes gleamed and he held your hand. “Let’s go.”

Deciding not responding was the best option at moment. All of this wasn’t making sense but you loved him nonetheless and followed him. It was close to lights out but him being head boy so who was gonna question him being out of bed. What seemed like a life time, you stopped in-front of a bathroom. Why here? You tried to find any reasons of stopping here and there were none that came to mind. Tom whispered alohomora with his wand and the door creaked open. Locked? But why. He brought you in and letting out a small gasp. On the floor laid a half beaten muggle born Myrtle. You stood still trying to piece together what’s happening. You look at Tom but he was fixed on her.

“Tom, When you mentioned how you disliked mudbloods is this what you meant because isn’t this a little extreme?” Grabbing onto his robes pulling yourself to him.

He glanced down toward you and smirked. A smirk that finally met his eyes. “This is your chance to impress me even further, my dear. Now, you only have one chance and it’s a spell that both you and I know. It’s a spell called Avada Kedavra. You may not know the wand movement so if you mess up the first time but I see you actually mean it, I’ll possibly grant you a second try. Second tries are hard to come by from you as you know it. You’ll do this is you love and want to the rest of your life with me.” He walked you over to her and helped you get your wand out. He held hand with your wand to practice said wand movement.

After a few times, he seemed satisfied and sat on the sink countertop with his arms crossed.

“I simply can’t, she’s my and your age. She’s just a little a girl.” Tears escaped your eyes while looking at him.

Clicking his tongue, “I thought you were better then this. I always granted your wish, whatever it was. Have you thought about my wishes? What I wanted? You haven’t, haven’t you? You’re a taker but what I need is a giver. Can’t you give me this one simple sign of loyalty? Please, I love you. I don’t want to lose you” Hugging you from behind and putting his face into your neck. You felt him shake a little and feeling his lips move.

You tried to reason in your mind that you didnt need him and you’ll walk away. Forget this ever happened. Forget him.

You couldn’t.... Already so attached to him. Thinking all those times you snuck into the library at midnight, the Yule ball, hogsmeade dates, and lastly was because you given him all of your firsts. First date, first kiss, first boyfriend, first time having sex, and first love. Could you truly forgot all of that? Could you lose it? You couldn’t start over. Your school life was coming to a close and you thought you spend the rest of your days with Tom. Get a flat together, get married, and possibly having his children. He had you wrapped around him. He was in every corner of your mind and him knowing it.

You steadied yourself and casted it. After the deed was done, you collapsed and tried to hold yourself together. You were a criminal. A victim too in a way. Love makes you do crazy things. This is one of those times.

He turned your face towards his to kissed you. He picked you up and started walking out with you in his arms. His lips whispering sweet words into your ears. You ate it up, lapped up every word like a starved puppy. Turning your head to glance into the bathroom, her glossed over eyes met yours as the door slammed shut and locked. It was a sight that you would never forget. A feeling you would never forget. You would probably do it again for him if those lips kept on moving.

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