#( ic. // the boy who cried wolf. )

[kamisopp]

"luffy's just jealous that I'm ace's favorite brother."

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy. A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night! WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.

You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.

Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.

“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”

The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”

The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).

You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.

“How far along are you?”

“About five months, I think!”

“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”

Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”

You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.

“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”

“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.

Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.

“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.

“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”

The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.

That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.

***

You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.

Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.

“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”

“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”

You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.

Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.

“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.

“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”

Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”

“Oh, it’s -”

“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”

“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”

Like always the reply was only a “tch”.

***

Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.

You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.

“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.

“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.

You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”

“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.

Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”

With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.

Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.

***

“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.

Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”

“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.

“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”

“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”

“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”

“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”

“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”

Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…

***

Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.

It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.

Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.

Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.

“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”

“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”

You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”

Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.

“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“N-no - where is he?”

“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”

“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.

“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”

”THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.

***

“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”

“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.

“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).

“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.

“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”

“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”

“Do you hate us all or something?!”

“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.

“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”

“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”

“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

giyuu.exe has stopped working.

[ellecdc]

Hiyaa, I’m back again for another seer!reader😋

This one’s connected to the other seer!reader, I was thinking, what if mini padfoot inherits his mother’s abilities? Although he still can’t differentiate the line between his visions and dreams since he is really young. So what happened was he dreamt that a wolf was running after him and his baby sibling and he got so scared that he told his parents, then at the end they all figured out it was just a harmless dream?? Yes, angst with a happy ending please😚

Have a great day babes!🩷✨

mini-padfoot stoppppp I love them

poly!marauders x Seer!reader whose son inherits her gift of Sight

CW: hurt/comfort, fluff, Remus spiralling, continuation of this fic

If you had told Remus at any point in his life that he would one day be a doting stay-at-home-father of not one but two children, he would have called you barmy and maybe suggested you be admitted into the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s.

But alas, here he was, currently baking in his kitchen whilst his two children napped as he waited for his partners to return home from their various jobs.

And he loved it. 

As if perfect timing, Remus had just slid a sheet of biscuits into the oven and set a quick timer when he heard his oldest starting to cry. 

“I’m coming, cariad.” He called out as he wiped the flour off his jumper and pushed the door open to his son’s room, hoping to calm the crying before he managed to wake his younger sibling. 

“Da!” Leo sobbed, holding his little arms out to Remus. Remus quickly bent down and scooped the toddler up into his arms and began shushing him and bouncing back and forth.

“You’re okay, m’love. Da’s right here.” He murmured into his head of curly black hair. 

Though Remus knew toddlers and babies often cried as they woke up, Leo seemed to be particularly distressed after today’s nap. 

“Hey, hey cariad; what’s the problem, hm? What’s the matter?” Remus cooed as he pulled his son away from his body to examine his face. 

Remus’ heart lurched as he watched the little black-haired, grey-eyed bub rub at his eyes with pudgy fists; lip jutting out as he took in shuddering breaths.

“Saw bad.” He pouted miserably. 

Remus’ heart lurched once again for the poor mini-padfoot who was plagued with his mummy’s gift of Sight. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Remus asked cautiously. 

After many discussions that Sirius, James, and Remus had with you, they decided it was best to have Leo describe any potential Sights as dreams until he was old enough to be able to cope with potentially unsettling Sights; there was no use in your child stressing over things he could not control or even properly understand yet.

“Yeah.” The boy cried again.

“What was the dream about, my love?”

“Bad wolf.”

Remus felt his blood run ice cold as he stared at his son in horror.

A Bad Wolf.

“What did the bad wolf do, cariad?”

Leo let out a pitiful sniffle as his big eyes stared up imploringly at his father. “He was chasing us, me and my baby sister. I had to carry her but she wouldn’t stop crying and the wolf kept chasing us. He was growling and drooly and just very scary.” He explained, the end of his sentence punctuated with another sob.

Remus’ body seemed to move in autopilot as he pulled the child back into his chest and began rocking him back and forth, murmuring soft encouragements of ‘your safe now’, ‘da’s got you’, and ‘there’s nothing to be afraid of’ even though Remus himself was terrified. 

It was him.

He was The Wolf. 

He was chasing them…hunting them; his own children.

He should have known; he should have known better.

He was a monster through and through and he had no right to endanger the lives of these two innocent babes.

He felt sick and twisted even holding Sirius’ doppelganger in his arms like he had any right to tell him it was all okay and he was safe now. As if he wasn’t currently cradled in the arms of the monster he so feared. 

Remus moved the child to the living room where he popped on a video of Winnie the Pooh or some other children’s cartoon on the muggle telly for him and handed him a small cup of apple slices.

He stood in the corner of the room - the closest he’d allow himself to Leo - chewing at his cuticles until James walked in the door.

“Daddy!” Leo shrieked excitedly as he abandoned the remaining apple slices in favour of launching himself at his father. 

“Hey lovebug!” James cheered back, swinging the toddler back and forth in his arms before putting him back down and letting him race back off to his shows.

“‘Lo Moons! How was- is…is everything okay?” James started, but paused as he noticed Remus’ tense body language. 

“Can you please watch them?” Remus whispered, referring to the one child sitting in front of the telly and the other still sound asleep within her bassinet. 

“Of course.” James started, sounding like he was ready to ask Remus what was going on, but Remus never gave him the chance.

Remus swiftly moved down the hall and closed himself into their bedroom where he let out his own sob that had been stuck in the back of his throat. 

The house smelled heavenly, alerting you to the fact that Remus had been playing around in the kitchen again. You’d been coming home to some of the most delectable pastries and breads that Remus always found some fault in - they were too dense, too flaky, not risen enough etc etc - but they never failed to make your mouth water each and every time.

The pleased smile that had taken over your face as you entered your home quickly vanished when you entered the living room to a tension you weren’t accustomed to in your own home. 

Sirius was standing with the youngest of your two children cradled in his arms as he and James murmured solemnly back and forth, and your oldest watched cartoons completely unaware of any stress colouring the atmosphere around him. 

“Hey you guys.” You offered cautiously, causing Leo to jump up to greet you.

“Hi mummy!” He shrieked, causing your daughter to stir unhappily in his papa’s arms. 

“Where’s Da, pumpkin?” You asked him as he wiggled out of your grasp, clearly eager to return to his shows.

“In bed.” He responded simply, causing you to look at your husbands bemusedly. 

Sirius and James exchanged a glance as James moved over to you. “He’s in the bedroom. He seemed very upset when I got home and all he told me was ‘Leo Saw something’.”

You let out a sigh as you looked over at your son, feeling horribly guilty that he was plagued by the same ‘gift’ that you were. You could remember some of your earliest sights at perhaps only slightly older than he currently was, and how upsetting not only the Sights could be, but how upsetting it could be when they happened to come true.

But, you also knew that at his age, what Remus described as a Sight could easily have been a simple dream.

You made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom, pausing to knock gently twice before letting yourself in.

Remus was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands with his back facing you.

You aren’t sure when the last time you saw him look so dejected was, but it caused a horrible lump in your throat nonetheless. 

“Moony, love?” You called quietly, moving slowly around the bed in order to stand in front of him.

He never looked up at you, but a sob escaped him at your words.

“Baby.” You cooed as you knelt; placing your hands on either side of his knee and trying to rub circles with your thumbs in an attempt to get him to look at you. “What happened, my love?”

Through quiet sobs, you managed to catch “He’s scared of me. I’m going to kill him.” 

“Remus.” You said more seriously. “That’s impossible.”

“He saw the Wolf, Y/N.” Remus responded emphatically, pulling his hands away from his face to expose his reddened and swollen eyes and cheeks. “It…it was - I was chasing him, and he was carrying our sweet-” He cut himself off with a hiccup and tried to cover his face again, but you caught his hands and brought them to your cheeks instead. 

“He was trying to protect his little sister, and the Wolf was hunting them. I was hunting them.”

“No Remus.” You argued, but Remus screwed his eyes shut as if your refusal to believe him caused him physical pain.

“Remus Lupin, you listen to me; you would never allow anything to happen to those kids. You love them more than anything in this world; I’ve never been more certain of their safety than when they’re with you.”

Remus didn’t seem completely convinced as he shook his head in disagreement, though he didn’t bother arguing with you. 

“And even if that wasn’t true.” You began, drawing your syllables out to encourage him to return his eyes to yours, which he did. “You have three of us here who also would never allow anything to happen to them. If you don’t trust yourself, don’t you trust us?”

Remus let out a defeated sigh as he rested his forehead against yours; his hands still stationed where you were holding them against your jaw as his thumbs gently rubbed near your cheekbones. 

“Besides,” You added quietly, nudging his nose gently with your own. “I’m a much better Seer than Leo; if anything were to happen to my children - I’d be the first to know.” 

Remus let out a quiet snort at that, causing you to smile. 

“I’m sorry you’ve had a bad day, my love.” You soothed; pulling your head back to press a kiss to his nose only for him to hold your head there and press a gentle kiss to your lips in response.

“It wasn’t a bad day.” He countered. “It was quite good, before he woke up from his nap terrified.”

You let out a sympathetic hum of acknowledgement and pressed another kiss to his lips. “It could have very well been a dream, baby.”

Remus sighed as if he knew that, but just couldn’t help being worried. You understood his dilemma. 

Before either of you could respond, a cautious knock was rapped against the door as James and Sirius both poked their heads in.

“Hey, Moony.” James started, sounding all kinds of guilty.

“So, Leo told us about his dream he had this afternoon.” Sirius continued, grimacing slightly at the admission. 

“Yeah! And, uhm, funny thing…that…” James soldiered on. “It turns out-”

“Red Riding Hood!” Leo squealed as he shoved his head between Sirius and James’ legs.

“What?” Remus asked in bemusement. 

“Well, we had a playdate over with the Lovegood’s yesterday, right? And Xenophilius read this muggle nursery rhyme to them-”

“James…” You groaned, leaning your forehead down on Remus’ knee as he rubbed his thumbs through the baby hairs on the back of your neck.

“Why don’t you tell them what happened next in your dream, bubs. After the wolf was chasing you?” Sirius encouraged.

“Me and sissy got away from the wolf because Mama showed up with two knights and they fought the wolf! And the knights were Daddy and Da, and then we all went and rescued Papa from an evil witch who locked him in a tower!” Leo explained excitedly. 

“Leo,” Remus chided jovially. “You didn’t tell me any of this when you woke up.”

“I forgot!” Leo said with a shrug before he went racing back off down the hallway. 

“Cheeky bastard.” You sighed quietly causing Sirius to bark a laugh. 

“Sure is; he is his father’s son, afterall.”

“I’m so sorry, Rem.” James offered guiltily. “I was just so excited to learn muggle nursery rhymes and stories; I never even made the connection of the Wolf.”

Remus shook his head at his husband in faux contempt as he turned to lean his head against yours once again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No you won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asked with a smirk.

You smirked right back. “Because, I would have Seen it.”

“Fair enough.” He whispered back. 

“Right. So, now that we’re all good.” Sirius began. “Can we have those biscuits you made yet? They smell bloody brilliant.

“You can.” Remus replied. “None for Prongs.”

This earned him a bark of laughter from Sirius and a horrified squawk from James.

“Ha ha. You’re in the doghouse.” Sirius taunted James, turning to flee quickly when James turned to glare daggers at him.

You knew James had caught up to him when you heard an inelegant shriek from Sirius and Leo squealing in laughter at his fathers’ antics.

“I love them so much.” You mused aloud.

Remus breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Me too.”

[aimedis]

milo as a dad headcanons (+sweetheart) !!

milo and sweetheart have twin sons (am i milking the redacted boys w twins headcanon?)

Dad Milo who was, unsurprisingly, very nervous to be a dad because of his own father but was also worried about his child(ren) growing up with a Department worker

But they both handled it with so much grace

Dad Milo who almost passed out when they found out he was having twins

Parents Milo and Sweetheart whose twins are literally identical and are nearly impossible to tell apart aside from the fact that the oldest's hair is longer than the youngest's (even before they got hair, Milo and Sweetheart could tell them apart easily) 

The twins have an attitude that rivals Milo and Sweetheart's combined (so much so that Sweetheart has threatened to beat their ass) ((does not believe in hitting them though)) 

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who swear in front of their kids but respect that other parents don't want that around their kids (the swearing doesn't make their kids scared of them at all)

Parent Sweetheart who is generally a pretty gentle parent, the slightly vulgar language is only used when the twins are being excessively difficult for the sake of being difficult 

Dad Milo who is insanely protective of his kids (but not in an overbearing way, in the ‘if you hurt my kids you’re dead’ way) 

Sweetheart the workaholic who has literally left work hours earlier to get their oldest a cake pop after he called from Milo’s phone

Dad Milo whose lockscreen is a picture of the twins sitting on the kitchen counter with ice-cream all over their faces

Dad Milo who almost cries when he holds his son as he screams bloody murder while getting vaccinations

Dad Milo who pretends it doesn't hurt whenever one of the twins screams 'i hate you!' in a toddlerlike fit of rage but even after the apologies and makeups, he lies awake at night thinking about it over and over (because maybe he's just like his dad after all)

Dad Milo who still remains calm and firm in his discipline but also remembering to be kind and careful with his boys

Dad Milo who sings and dances with the twins

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who rarely argue in front of their kids

Dad Milo who is practically a seer when it comes to the boys, watching them intently and preventing them from doing stupid things that could get them (seriously) injured before it actually happens 

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are so used to being punched by their kids

The house during the solstice after the twins get their powers is a mess (Milo makes it his mission to take care of everyone no matter how shitty he feels) 

Dad Milo who pretends the twins being clingy is a hindrance but secretly loves when they want to be around him

Parent Sweetheart who walks around the house on business calls while carrying one (or both) of the twins in each arm (Milo thinks it’s domestic as all hell)

Dad Milo and the twins play a game where he pretends to attack Sweetheart (sometimes in his wolf form) and the twins try to defend them by hitting him and standing in front of them with their arms held out (Milo finds it hilarious, Sweetheart finds it mildly annoying because they always do it when they’re trying to work)

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are the biggest bullies to their kids (in a loving way)

Parent Sweetheart who only pretended to not be able to tell the difference between the twins one time but their youngest got so upset he started crying, so they didn’t do it again

Dad Milo who treats every messy drawing or art project as the next Mona Lisa (tells everyone their oldest is gonna be a big artist someday)

Dad Milo who is the type to hear one of the boys (or god forbid, both of them) likes a type of snack, food, or drink and buy enough to fill a store (“Dad I can’t eat all of that!”)

Parents Milo and Sweetheart who are definitely the hot parents at parent teacher interviews

Dad Milo who actually can’t say no to the boys (Marie has to talk some sense into him every so often)

Dad Milo who is beyond happy that his kids love his Ma just as much as he does

Dad Milo whose kids are shifter/stealth hybrids (idc if it’s not plausible or possible) and nearly has a heart attack every other day because he has three menaces teaming up to scare the shit out of him

Dad Milo who takes pictures of his family everyday

Parent Sweetheart who gives the boys a very serious lecture about bullying, telling them to be kind to others and if people aren’t kind to them, they should tell them right away

Dad Milo who constantly stresses the importance of letting him kids know that they can talk to him and tell him anything, even if they might get in trouble (“I’d rather be disappointed while I come pick you up from somewhere you’re not supposed to be rather than sitting at your funeral”)

Parent Sweetheart who nearly quits on the spot when they’re called to release their sons from a department cell. Twice.

Dad Milo who uses empty, pointless threats on his toddlers to get them to behave (“Hey, if you don’t stop screaming, I’m gonna have to go outside and pick a flower.”)

Dad Milo who picks up the boys by their shirts to turn them around when they’re going somewhere they’re not supposed to be

Dad Milo who can’t help but smile whenever he hears anything that reminds him of his family, of home

[perseephoneee]

⭑ FIC RECS ⭑

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

last updated: 04/15/2024

↳ as a writer, i'm always consuming things about my favs, and i thought it was time to share some of my favorites. every story here has likely been reread by moi a million times. also-- my psyche can be easily viewed by how many stories are under one individuals *cries*

SUPERNATURAL

every headcanon from @via-l0ve

her boys @octoberclidan. (tfw)

dances with team free will @octoberclidan

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ DEAN WINCHESTER

cruel summer (18+) @waynes-multiverse

ladies with experience (18+) @hintsofhoney

dean reads you wrong @zepskies

she's my siren (18+) @fatecantstopme

smoke eater (series) @zepskies

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SAM WINCHESTER

a taste of summer @impala-dreamer

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ CASTIEL

dreaming (18+) @impala-dreamer

beautiful to me @impala-dreamer

angel alpha (18+) @crashdevlin

i'll watch over you @octoberclidan

if you will have me, i'm yours (18+) @gilverrwrites

neckties @supernaturalfreewill

love, by any other name @zepskies

peculiar @supernaturalfreewill

because of books @supernaturalfreewill

last night on earth (18+) @hollybell51

don't bet on it (18+) @hollybell51

his charge (18+) @impala-dreamer

sharing is caring (III) @zepskies

TEEN WOLF

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ISAAC LAHEY

sick reader @smellslikemultifandomimagines

aftercare @smellslikemultifandomimagines

hidden with isaac @scoopsahoy

mutual losing (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

facesitting (18+) @smellslikemultifandomimagines

cruel summer @hotdogwillex

come back to me @hotdogwillex

cold feet, warm bodies (18+) @scoopsahoy

i'm gonna kiss you now @sourwulf

drunken confessions @teenwolffan-with-nolife

dream @rogershoe

fratboy!isaac (18+) (all time fav) @mermaidenisaacs

teaches you to kiss (18+) @mermaidenisaacs

prove me wrong (18+) @twjournals

VAMPIRE DIARIES

dating the mikaelsons @wholoveseggs

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

hold (18+) @wholoveseggs

extra-extraordinary (18+) @wholoveseggs

blood bath (18+) @wholoveseggs

warmth (18+) @wholoveseggs

the result of naps @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KLAUS MIKAELSON

she knew better (18+) @klausysworld

distracted @theeoriginals

you bring me home @theeoriginals

sharp (18+) @theeoriginals

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KOL MIKAELSON

christmas khaos @wholoveseggs

goodnight kisses @kmikaelsonimagines

frustrations (18+) @madhatterbri

thigh socks (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

proposal @kmikaelsonimagines

Christmas in dixie @fitzs-trained-monkey

bruised and battered @fitzs-trained-monkey

shots @so-long-soldier-writes

little favors @fitzs-trained-monkey

of ice skates and sugar cookies @fitzs-trained-monkey

ten minute blood stain removal @fitzs-trained-monkey

like a box of chocolates @fitzs-trained-monkey

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ KAI PARKER

for my valentine (18+) @babeydollx

lace (18+) @geminioriginalsimagines

game on (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

kisses @socio-kai-path1972

why? @socio-kai-path1972

affinity romance (18+) @socio-kai-path1972

is it hot in here? (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

party crasher (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

sex tea (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

say it again (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the red means (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

the price of hatred (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

spoiled (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

birthday girl (18+) @oneirataxiahiraeth

STAR TREK

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JIM KIRK/BONES

a well documented debacle @mybullshitsensesaretingling

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ PAVEL CHEKOV

sweatpants @youre-on-a-starship

MARVEL

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ LOKI

reformed villain squad @give-me-a-moose

overtime (18+) @cleo-fox

loki's happy ending @gingerwritess

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BUCKY BARNES

graveyard @wkemeup

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ STEVEN GRANT/MARC SPECTOR

red flags (18+) @astroboots

HUNGER GAMES

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ FINNICK O'DAIR

oral headcanon (18+) @lucilleslore

darling and the virgin (18+) @wife-of-all-dilfs

TED LASSO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ JAMIE TARTT

chilly cheeks @veryberryjelly

about you @buckychristwrites

saved you a seat @benedictscanvas

operation: tartt's heart @theowritesstuff

DOCTOR WHO

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ TENTH DOCTOR

family christmas @writerlyhabits

gestures and evasion @doctenwho

before you go @doctorslove

falling in love again @doctorslove

CRIMINAL MINDS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ SPENCER REID

virgin!spence (18+) @fortheloveofwonderland

i'd bottle the feelings you gave me @spencersfunkysocks

all the women he's loved before @fortheloveofwonderland

a helping hand (18+) @sinfulspencer

second date @samuel-de-champagne-problems

preciously pure (18+) @foxy-eva

STRANGER THINGS

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ BILLY HARGROVE

two ships passing in the night @hairringtonsteve

[3unnyceleste]

The boy who cried wolf

Cg! Dino x Cg! Dali x Cg! Henrique x Cg! Gerhart x Little! YN.

tw: mention of pullup, story of boy who cried wolf

(disclaimer, all of my agere yn stories are PLATONIC!!)

You were the newest addition to the nursery! Gerhart found it odd, since were young mentally. He didn't understand the idea of littlespace like your other caregivers did. You were a small one, a little toddler! today you had on a cute little pair of shorts and a ruffled shirt, with pullups underneath. As you chewed on your pacifier, you heard the voice of one of your caregivers:

It was Dino. He was as bubbly as ever and ran over to you, immediately scooping you up in the air and tossing you up and down repeatedly.

"Up! down! up! down! Up goes the little one, down goes the little one!" He laughed, watching you squeal and giggle, your limbs flying around in the air.

"That's enough, Dino! We have work to do, If you haven't forgotten." A sharp, loud voice cut from behind.

It was Gerhart. You immediately pouted, knowing that Gerhart was there to stop the fun and make all your caregivers go back to working on the case. Henrique and Dali came in, ready to work. However you weren't having it. As the four began to work, you tried getting their attention.

"I wanna pway! Pway!" You tugged on Dali's sleeve, knowing he was definetely going to give in to you... Right? "Sorry sweetie... papa's got to get some work done. You can't always play, work is important. Don't worry, we'll play with you later, okay treasure?" Dali replied, rubbing your soft head. You were upset to say the least. and so you went around to each caregiver, struggling to get a response back. They all either apologetically, or not so apologetically, denied your request to play with them. You were frustrated, to say the least. 'I'm just a little one! How could they deny such a request??' You thought to yourself. So while they worked, you tried getting their attention, only to be shushed. After awhile, you had a new idea to get attention....

You just needed a boo boo. So you went to where they were working, and made a show of tripping and falling on your knee. You began yelling out 'ow!' loudly, in hopes at least one would pity you. Almost immediately, Dino and Dali turned to you and fussed over you.

"What happened?" "Are you hurt?"

They both cooed over you and stroked your hair as you made your best crocodile tears for them. Henrique left to grab some ice and your stuffy and paci. However Gerhart gave a knowing scoff.

"Do you honestly think they'd be crying over something so small? They've fallen from trees they've climbed and haven't cried so! What makes you think such a small trip would induce these tears?" Gerhart snapped at the two caregivers. The two looked down at you. Uh oh.

Dali kept smiling as usual, however his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

"Darling, is that true? Did you cry so you could get our attention?" He asked softly, while Dino held your hand. You looked down, knowing you'd gotten caught in the act.

"Yus...." You mumbled softly. Henrique came in and noticed the tense atmosphere and your look of guilt.

"Might I ask what happened?" Henrique asked, rasing a grey eyebrow. Gerhart explained, before Henrique let out a deep sigh. He went over to you and kneeled down.

"Little one... I understand we were busy and you wanted attention. However what you did was quite wrong. Have you heard of the story, the little boy who cried wolf?"

Henrique was stern, but in a loving way. He was not like Gerhart, who simply yelled. No, Henrique wanted you to understand. You shook your head no.

"The little boy who cried wolf... it's a classic." And then, Henrique began reciting the story to you:

"There once was a young boy, who was a shepard. He kept watch over the sheep, but quickly grew bored. So he yelled out to the villagers,

'wolf! There's a wolf!' and all the villagers ran up in a hurry to help. But what did they see?" Henrique asked you. You thought for a minute.

"no wolf?" You answered cautiously. Henrique nodded.

"There was no wolf. As the boy laughed at their anger, the villagers scolded him, before leaving. Soon the boy grew bored yet again, and what did he do?" He asked you, waiting for your answer. You thought hard again.

"wolf?"

"Right again." Henrique nodded, offering a soft yet subtle smile.

"The villagers once again rushed, finding no wolf. They left, angry once again. However soon, there was a REAL wolf. So what did the little boy do? He cried 'wolf! wolf!' What do you think the villagers did?" Henrique asked.

You answered quickly.

"they help?" you answered hopefully. However Henrique shook his head.

"No. The villagers didn't come. Because no one believes a liar, even when he speaks the truth. And what do you think happened to the boy?" Henrique asked you. You looked down and thought.

"he wen' bye?

"No. The wolf ate him. The end." Henrique bluntly answered. Your eyes widened in fear, and tears sprouted. You had DEFINITELY learned your lesson. You began crying, feeling upset you'd done something wrong, (as well as the not so savory story ending), and hugged Henrique, Dali, and Dino.

" 'm sowwy!" you wailed into their arms, guilt written over your face. Even Gerhart softened up, but just a tiny bit. Henrique let out a sigh and stroked your hair.

"That's alright, little one. We forgive you. Here..." He put your pacifier in and stroked your back lovingly.

"Now let's see about that game, shall we, little treasure?" Dino chirped happily to you.

~END~

(Sorry it took so long! here's the promised story!!)

[snowball-doie]

| 8th anniversary ~ Dom!Reader x sub!Haechan | yuta's help ~ sub!Reader x Dom!Yuta | relaxing sunday morning ~ sub!fem!Reader x Daddy!Dom!Jaehyun | do you want to try me? ~ Plus size!Reader x Johnny | a week in london ~ gn!Reader x switch!Mark | morning surprises ~ Dom!Johnny x sub!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong | self-care routine ~ Dom!gn!Reader x sub!Haechan | best helpers ~ Jaehyun x fem!Reader x Haechan | pool night ~ switch!Mark x switch!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong (WIP) | brat taming ~ sub!fem!Reader x Dojaejung (WIP) | boy who cried wolf ~ Dom!Reader x sub!Haechan x Dom!Yuta (WIP) | ice, ice, baby ~ poly!ilichil (WIP)

| mark's long hair | johnny spoiling you | body hair w/ haechan, yuta, jaehyun | free use haechan | submissive!taeyong | free use jaehyun | overstimming hyuck

| sleepy boy ~ Dom!Reader x sub!Renjun | sleepy fox ~ Reader x fox hybrid!Renjun | sub!renjun thoughts | jeno corruption kink | pink haired pretty boy ~ fem!Reader x Yangyang | poly!markle (Queued) | happy birthday ~ virgin!Fem!Reader x Hendery (WIP)

dream()scape series

| last updated: 20 September 2024

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU // Chapter 1

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Original Female Character Pairing: eventual Stiles x OFC, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.9k Warnings: canon typical gore/violence, parental death, descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author loves lesbian poets and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: Four years ago, Drea Dickinson's entire life fell apart. Her mom died, her best friend replaced her, and all she could do was watch listlessly while everything else burned down around her. All she wants is to forget and maybe get through her sophomore year without flunking chemistry and completely unraveling at the seams—a seemingly impossible task with the sudden appearance of ghosts from her mother's mysterious past and a hair-raising beast ripping people apart all over town. It would be easier to pretend if she hadn't accidentally entwined her life with the most interrogatory bastard in town. She could have gone her whole life without meeting Stiles Stilinski, and she would've been perfectly fine, but now she's stuck knowing that she's made her bed in the fragile, breakable bones of the boy with all the answers. Chapter Summary: After her annual interrogation with Sheriff Stilinski, Drea meets his son who turns out to be very handy with jumper cables, poetry recitation, and incoherent babbling.

A/N: This is an entirely selfish project. This rewrite has been so incredibly nostalgic, and I may or may not have cried a few times because the TW era was such a special time of my life. To be 17 again, sigh. I wrote a very bad version of this in 2014, and I cannot believe it has been 10 years!!! I'm almost 30! Impossible! The 10-year anniversary is entirely coincidental but still a wonderful, serendipitous happenstance. I'm re-watching the entire series with my little sister, who is coincidentally 17, and good god I just miss the TW, TVD era. Bring back the cheesy teen monster shows that give perpetual fall vibes PLEASE. You can also check me out on ao3 (dork_knight)!

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

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.

Before her mother’s death, Drea would have picked fire. Every single time. 

She never liked the cold; never really had to get used to it growing up in central California—but the crux of her argument, the twisted logic behind it all, was that most burn victims died from suffocation before they felt the flames. A small mercy, really, in the face of unspeakable tragedy. 

In the end, however, statistics were just numbers, her mother didn't die from smoke inhalation, and there was no mercy in burying a parent before you were old enough to have children of your own. Nothing ever ended poetically off the page. Death was just death, and it was always ugly. Someone should really tell that to Robert Frost, Drea mused, biting at a raw hangnail.

The medical examiner said the actual cause of death was pulmonary edema; at least, that was his best guess based on the state of the body. He didn’t say that she felt everything, her skin peeling back into her flesh, her flesh liquefying into fuel, her joints flexing into contorted pleas until the fire incinerated her last nerve ending. He didn’t have to; Drea connected those dots all on her own. She’d been twelve at the time, not an imbecile. 

“I’m sorry to drag you through this all again.”

Drea flitted her eyes away from the flickering lightbulb above Sheriff Stilinski’s head and met his gaze; it was nauseatingly sympathetic. Her responding shrug was a small, little thing—more like a twitch in practice, “Not your fault.” 

Her yearly visits to Sheriff Stilinski’s office were solely her father’s doing, even if no one wanted to admit it to her face. Most mayors would use their political power to get their child out of a police station, not into it, but perhaps Mayor Dickinson stopped being her dad somewhere between the funeral and now. 

“If you could start—”

“From the beginning,” Drea smoothed her thumb in small circles over the armrest of her chair, attentively tracing patterns into the polished wood, “I know.” This was, after all, the fourth anniversary of her first interrogation. She’d become somewhat of an expert at being a useless witness. Drea picked at her uneven cuticles before continuing, “Mom put me to bed around 10:00—which was kind of late for a school night, honestly, but she let me stay up to finish another chapter anyway.” The right corner of her mouth twitched for a brief moment, “Nancy Drew: Password to Larkspur Lane. I told her that forcing someone to go to sleep in the middle of a mystery was specifically forbidden in Geneva Protocol II.” Her mom had been far too indulgent of her lip on most occasions, but that night she didn’t smile at her snarky aside. She let her finish the chapter because she was too tired to argue; Drea could tell. At the time, she saw it as a victory. Now, it kept her up at night, the drooping lines of her mother’s mouth spilling over the pages of whatever book she was trying to read.

Drea bit down on her tongue when a stray splinter snagged against the soft pad of her thumb, “Dad was out of town, so it was just the two of us. Mom always put me to bed when Dad was gone; said it was the only way she could get to sleep. Had to make sure my window was locked.” She paused for a long moment: everything went dark after this. Her mother kissed the top of her head, murmured, ‘Love you,’ turned out the light, and then that was it. Drea woke up in the hospital, and her mom was dead. 

A bead of sweat dripped onto her top lip. The air in the Beacon Hills police station was, without fail, sticky with heat and body odor—and it wasn’t just the oppressive Californian sun. Even in the winter, a person could choke on the stifling warmth. Idly, she wondered if it was a matter of interrogatory tactics or budgetary constraints. 

“And then,” Sheriff Stilinski prompted gently, though they both knew how the story went from here. She had told it to him and a dozen other officials at least a hundred times in the last four years. 

Drea bit down on her thumbnail and winced when her teeth snagged on the tender nail bed, “And then nothing. I opened my eyes, and a nurse said that you found me on the front lawn.” 

“You don’t remember how you got outside?” 

Drea shook her head, staring past the Sheriff's shoulder. Large pieces of dust floated through the air, highlighted by the slivers of light trickling through the blinds. Suddenly, she had a newfound appreciation for the lack of fans in the room. 

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his jaw, “You don’t remember saying it was an angel?”

Blinking slowly, Drea looked at the grim line of the Sheriff’s mouth and gripped her knees tightly, digging her fingers into tawny skin until her wrist cracked, “I should, right? I was twelve. I should remember something—that’s what everyone thinks. That’s what my dad thinks.” Her eyelids fluttered to a tight close, and her voice went so quiet she could barely be heard over the hum of the copier outside the door, “He thinks it was me. That’s why he makes you question me every year.” She pulled the sleeves of her jacket over her fists and gnawed on the soft lining of her cheek, “He thinks you’ll finally figure out how I did it.” 

Drea was scared to open her eyes as the silence stretched between them. They’d danced around the subject before, hinted and twisted around the heart of it, but they’d never truly discussed how it looked from the outside. Sheriff Stilinski had been kind enough to give her a few different excuses over the years: trauma, head injury, oxygen deprivation, plain old grief—but whatever caused her temporary amnesia wasn’t so conveniently explained. In fact, currently, she still had no explanation at all. When she finally peeked through her lashes, clumped together with frustrated tears, Drea couldn’t quite figure out what expression the Sheriff was making. He leaned back in his desk chair and frowned, “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

“He does,” Drea cut him off. Her eyes went flinty, deep brown darkening to something far more ashen with the resolve of her anger. She never had any trouble reading her father’s face; the disgust was thinly-veiled between the flickers of fear. 

Sheriff Stilinksi leaned forward so that she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. They were kind—more tired than usual, but still kind. They always were. That was one thing Drea remembered from that day, waking up in the hospital to Sheriff Stilinski’s kind, watery blue eyes, just before the entire world fell apart. His voice was gentle, but firm, when he finally spoke, “I don’t.” 

Drea nodded numbly and pulled at a fraying string on the hem of her denim skirt until the thread snapped. 

“I mean it, kid. They couldn’t identify the source of the fire. They couldn’t even find an origin point; no twelve-year-old could pull that off.”

Drea chewed on her bottom lip, “Could anyone?”

Sheriff Stilinski’s brow furrowed, and his mouth screwed up into a crooked line, like he was chewing on his words and deciding if he should swallow them or spit them out. “I wish I had all the answers for you. I really do. Not knowing, it’s worse than any truth.”

Drea blinked up at him for a moment, once again taken aback by his raw sincerity, and swallowed hard. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have the answers; he was the one who was supposed to ask the questions. There was one failure in his muggy office, and it wasn’t the Sheriff. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “Not your fault.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point, but whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the sharp ringing of the phone on his desk. “I have to take this, but if you remember something, or if you just need to talk—”

“My dad spends a small fortune on a psychiatrist and a behavioral therapist for that,” Drea stood up quickly, shouldering her bag. She forced the corners of her mouth into a small smile, tight at the edges like a sheet that had been stretched too thin, “But thank you. For everything.” 

The Sheriff’s gaze darted to a framed photo on his desk. Drea had seen it before, on one of her many visits to his office. It was of a boy—his son, she assumed—he looked like he was around five or six at the time. He was grinning, wide enough to show off his missing incisors, and his fingers and wrist were stained cotton-candy blue from a melting popsicle. She must’ve been that happy once, right? In the beginning, everyone was unencumbered by the weight of imminent mortality. Maybe that’s what Sheriff Stilinski was thinking, too. He looked away from the photo and gave Drea a small smile, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Drea gave a half-hearted wave before wrapping her fingers around the strap of her backpack and walking to the parking lot. 

The sky was grim, a mocking reflection of expression on her face. The spite in her eyes hardened when big, fat raindrops splattered against the apples of her cheeks. For a moment, she just stood there, glaring at the rain and cursing the cosmos for their utterly unamusing sense of humor. A jeep pulled into the parking lot, and the squealing engine startled her back into reality. 

Unfortunately, the search for her car keys was a considerable endeavor. Typical. Drea stacked her textbooks and binders onto the hood of her sedan, haphazardly throwing her jacket on top of the pile to protect her painstakingly penned Kafka essay from the rain. By the time her fingertips brushed against the cool metal of her keys, her hair was damp and curling at the ends. 

The momentary relief was short-lived when she pressed the unlock button five times and the accompanying beep didn’t sound, not even once. For an absurdly long minute, all she could do was rest her forehead against the driver’s side window, breathing heavily until condensation gathered next to her mouth and the drizzle speckled dots onto the sleeves of her thin cotton shirt.

“If you’re trying to charge the battery through osmosis, it’d probably be more effective to smash your head against the hood.”

Drea jumped, and then flinched again when her keys clattered against the ground. She caught a glimpse of the phantom speaker in the side-view mirror; bizarrely, he looked just as surprised as she felt. She turned around, apprehensively—objects may be closer than they appear n’all—and tried to swallow her rapidly rising heart. 

“Sorry,” the boy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down and had the decency to look contrite, “big mouth.” He rubbed a hand over his chapped lips. “It’s a real problem. It’s so big, actually, that my foot just slides right in there like…all the time,” he gestured animatedly with a flat hand, a quick sliding motion, like a fish through water.

Drea blinked at him, slowly, and bent down to reach for her keys, “Might wanna see someone about that. Sounds unsanitary.”

“Eh, it’s hardly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth,” he said, eyes widening into horrified round circles the second he stopped talking. A faint flush creeped up his neck to his ears, and Drea’s heart dropped back into her chest. Slashers and ax murderers didn’t blush. Probably. She hadn’t ever met one, but it seemed like sound logic.

“Choking hazard,” Drea hummed, leaning back against her car. Her fingers traced a small dent in the door, the cause long forgotten, “It’s definitely still a choking hazard.”

The boy grinned before fixing his expression into something on the cusp of severity, “I’m about 95.7% sure that anything bigger than a fist is completely mouth-safe.” He held up his fist and nodded sharply, “Make that 98.3% sure.”

“98.3?” Drea’s brow arched.

“Maybe even 98.9.” 

The buzz of a lamp post hummed above their heads as they stared at each other with little smirks until the quiet made Drea sink her teeth into her bottom lip and big-mouth drum his fingers against his forearm. 

“So,” his sneakers squeaked against the slick asphalt as he shifted his weight, “you need a jump?”

Drea pursed her lips and ran her eyes over the front of her car, “I might give osmosis another shot. 30 seconds is hardly a fair trial.”

“Of course,” he hummed, “you gotta be fair.”

“We are in front of a police station.”

“Well,” he scratched his cheek, “it’s not a courthouse.”

“Technicality.” Drea was slightly horrified when she finally noticed that she was smiling. The sensation felt like it had escaped straight out of the uncanny valley and latched onto her face like a parasite in need of a host. It only took two weeks for muscles to atrophy; years must have completely decimated the fibers in her cheeks. “I guess I could use a jump. If your offer was an offer and not a hypothetical.” 

“Smart choice.” The boy rapped his knuckles against the hood of her car and said, “Steel’s probably pretty low on the permeability scale.”

“As opposed to a skull.”

He snorted and then nodded towards the large lump of books and papers covered by her freshly dampened jean jacket, “You should probably move your stuff. Y’know, ‘cause of the very un-permeable battery.”

“There’s that,” Drea sighed and started stuffing her things back into her backpack, shaking it violently until her notebook finally slid past her chemistry textbook, “and flunking English isn’t high on my list of things to do this weekend.”

His gaze flickered back and forth, rapidly cataloging every corner and crevice of her face. Drea tilted her head, brows pinched, and stared back at him with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. His eyes, she noticed, became a peculiar shade of brown in the yellow glow of the setting sun and the fluorescent light of the lamppost. More like honey, she realized, more like honey than irises. Something finally clicked behind them. "You,” he pointed aggressively, “you go to Beacon Hills.”

Drea pushed his finger away from her face with her own, “Safe bet, considering there’s exactly one option for the next 2,000 square miles.”

“You’re kind of a smartass, you know that,” he muttered as he struggled with the trunk of the jeep parked one space to her right until he finally wrenched it open with an almost guttural grunt.

Her lips parted briefly, and then she grinned drolly. It was refreshing, not being treated like some fragile little creature who would buckle in the knees—or possibly set something on fire—at the slightest confrontation. “Kind of?”

“Total.” He nodded decisively before sticking his head and torso into the depths of his trunk. “Completely, entirely, and wholly a smartass.” There were various clanging sounds until he re-emerged with a pair of jumper cables, “Never noticed that in class. You don’t really…say anything.”

Drea bit back the snark poised on the tip of her tongue. When people looked at her, the only thing they saw was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. She was the daughter of the woman who burned to death on Cedar Street; Drea Dickinson’s mom died, and she was there. It seemed like that was all she would ever be in Beacon Hills. 

In the grand scheme of things, it was better to be no one. 

High school had been her chance to slip into social obscurity—more kids, more drama, less discussion of homicide by arson—so she took it, wholeheartedly. She kept to the corners of classrooms, away from extracurriculars, and her mouth resolutely shut. 

“I try to exclusively bring the smart and leave the ass at home,” Drea finally replied.

The boy’s eyes drifted downwards for a moment, and his voice did a funny, squeaky thing when he said, “I should give that a go sometime.”

“10/10 would recommend. No one bugs you—and teachers never throw erasers at your face.”

“So you do remember me,” he grinned a little and rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt before unlatching the jeep’s hood and propping it open.

Slanting her head, Drea watched his profile. There were moles scattered across his cheek and neck, and his angular jaw clenched as he struggled with the knotted cords in his willowy fingers. “Vaguely,” she said faintly. It was coming back to her in pieces. That was life after twelve for Drea Dickinson: bits and pieces. Everything was made up of the disquieting moments when she surfaced from the haze and into the present. It should’ve felt like a lungful of air, but it didn’t. It always felt like choking. 

He wiped his grease-smudged hand on his jeans and then extended it towards her, “Stiles.”

She took his hand, despite the strange formality, and shook it—mainly because of the black streaks staining his pants. “Drea.”

Stiles’s brow wrinkled, “I thought it was Andy.”

Drea hadn’t been Andy for what felt like a very long time. Four years, in fact. There were several reasons: her mom called her Andy, and she wanted to become someone else, anybody else—but ultimately the deciding factor was ‘Andy Arson.’ The nickname stuck around far longer than she thought it would. With a last name like Dickinson, Drea really thought the tweenager taunting would go in a different direction, but thirteen-year-olds had a knack for latching onto a person’s deepest-seated insecurities. Middle school, she mused, was a tragedy all on its own. 

“Nope. Just Drea.”

Stiles examined her face, and she saw that flicker in his eyes again: the light of recognition. “Well, Drea’s cool, y’know, in comparison.” His fingers twitched a few times when he connected the clamp to the coordinating battery terminal, and Drea’s eyes widened. She held her breath in her sternum until she registered that he hadn’t been electrocuted. He was just naturally tweaky, she concluded. It was either that, or he had jumped one-too-many engines in the last 24 hours…unless it was hidden option C, and he was actually tweaking. Unlikely, given he was on his way into a building teeming with cops, but far stranger things had happened in Beacon Hills. 

The longer she remained silent the more parts of his body started to move. Stile squeezed and unsqueezed the black clamp in his hand and drummed on the side of her car with his unoccupied fingers, “Like, Andy—no offense—doesn’t exactly strike fear or confidence in the heart. I mean, I wouldn’t trust Officer Andy to save my ass in a shoot-out, and I definitely wouldn’t trust Dr. Andy to cure my unknown, incredibly rare, incurable disease.” 

“No one could cure your incurable disease. That’s quite literally the entire definition of the word.”

“Sure,” Stiles connected the last clamp and glanced at her over his shoulder, almost checking himself in the chin with a large shrug, “but I’d buy that Dr. Drea could.”

Her mouth parted for a second, and then she closed it before she could say something impulsive. “That’s not even how it works; I’d be Dr. Dickinson.” 

Stiles winced, “Brutal.”

“Yeah,” Drea sighed and rubbed her palms over her arms until the goosebumps prickling her biceps receded into her skin.

Stiles looked back at her again, and his mouth wormed its way into a little frown. His head disappeared into his trunk, and after a moment a lumpy maroon mass hurtled towards her face. She caught it before it could smack into her nose, and she clutched at the soft material until she realized that the projectile missile was actually just a sweatshirt. 

Stiles was staring at her when she looked up from her hands. A small, unsure…something squirmed over his face, and she felt a little stupid, just standing there, hoodie limp in her arms. It happened a lot—more than it should after so many years. The invisible quicksand materialized in the strangest, most insignificant moments. Drea blinked, completely brainless, at simple questions, stared aimlessly into her closet until her second alarm startled her into snatching the first shirt her fingers came in contact with—clasped at a stranger’s hoodie until the rainwater pooled on her lashes dripped into her eyes.

Robotically, Drea thrust her arms through the sleeves and tugged it over her head, “Thanks.” The sweet scent of grass clung to the fabric, and there was something earthier underneath it, something like evergreen. She smiled slightly, combing her baby hairs behind her ears, “I almost forgive you for being a dick about my name.”

Stiles’s shoulders unwound as he scoffed, “At least people can say it without seizing.”

Drea looked at him and tilted her head, eyebrows crawling towards the bridge of her nose.

Stiles waved his hand in the air and extrapolated, “My full name is—just trust me. Dick jokes aren’t the worst thing in the world.”

“No,” Drea chewed on her lip, “they aren’t.”

There was a moment in middle school where she was tempted to plant the seed of something incredibly stupid and irresistibly raunchy, something like, ‘Andrea wants ‘Dickinsideher,’ because even that was better than a name with matricide as the punchline. But it didn’t take when Jared Cartwright soft-launched it in PE, so Drea seriously doubted it would ever catch-on from the target herself.

She cleared her throat, “But they are almost as bad as stye jokes.”

“Uh, absolutely not. Eyesores are nowhere near as gross as dick’n nu—” Stiles coughed, throat bobbing as he swallowed, before finishing his sentence with an audible question mark, “…phallic imagery.”

Drea pursed her lips, “Pus beats penis on the ick meter by at least 23 points.”

Stiles’s eyes glimmered in the fading light, “23?”

“Maybe even 24.”

Another bout of silence fell between them, but it wasn’t so restless this time—even after Stiles torpedoed his body through his passenger seat. He fought with his keys for a while until the correct one slid into the ignition. 

The jeep’s engine hummed pleasantly in the quiet as Drea let out a soft sigh, dropping her head back against her car window. The rain had stopped somewhere between trying to unlock her car and now, but she couldn’t quite recall when. The chill wasn’t so bad, she realized, without her foul mood casting a shadow over her head.

Stiles landed back on his feet and leaned against the jeep. Drea could feel his gaze on her again. A tickling sensation trailed down her spine as she fiddled with her keychain. It was old, a gift from her parents on some birthday she couldn’t remember. Paint had chipped off in most places after thoughtlessly throwing her keys every time she came home, but she could still make out the M and Y of the orange ‘Mystery Machine’ logo.

Stiles hummed for a moment and then said, “I’m Nobody. Who are you?”

Drea stared at him and waited for the punchline. It didn’t come. Instead, he shifted from one foot to the other and fumbled over each following syllable. “You know, like…Dickinson,” he waved his hands around, seemingly searching for some sort of cosmic relief. “I thought it would better than a dick joke, but upon some seriously belated reflection, I realize that you’re probably tired of corny assholes qu—”

“How dreary,” Drea interrupted, quietly but loud enough to be heard over the rumbling jeep, “to be Somebody.”

Stiles’s jaw snapped shut; it was his turn to blink at her stupidly. He smiled a little and ran his hand over his buzzed head, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t know what she was agreeing with, only that she wholeheartedly did.

“I forgot that part.”

Drea clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook her head, “It’s the best line.”

“It might have something to do with my species landing somewhere between microscopic bacteria and radioactive cockroach on the high-school social food chain,” Stiles said dryly. His face remained impassive, like he was talking about something benign as the weather. 

Drea tilted her head a little and a timid smile unfurled over her face in time with the swell of familiarity blooming beneath her ribcage, “Then there’s a pair of us.”

His cheeks dimpled when he smiled back at her, “I do remember that one.”

“Well,” Drea slid her hands into her back pockets and shrugged, “it is the best part.”

Stiles squinted at her and then laughed.

Drea felt a bit like laughing too, so she swallowed thickly before she could choke on the impulse. She took a step backwards and curled her fingers around her keys in her back pocket, “I should probably try start my car…y’know, before you start reciting, ‘I Felt a Funeral, in My Brain.’”

He nodded, taking a step towards his jeep, “Solid plan. ‘Because I could not stop for Death’ would be next.”

Drea slid into her car and stared at the steering wheel, wrapping her fingers around 10 and 2 and silently calling upon every deity she’d ever heard of to end her suffering. Stiles seemed nice enough, but she seriously doubted her smalltalk capabilities were up-to ‘ride home’ standards. Perhaps, she should revisit her resounding dedication to atheism, she thought, as the engine sputtered in protest a few times and then came back to life. 

Stiles flashed two thumbs up through the window. The smile on his face was positively goofy, but his dismount from the jeep was somehow even goofier. He stumbled over his large feet a few times before regaining stability. Drea bit back a smile when he shot her another thumbs up, this time through the dash as he removed the jumper cables from her battery.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans again; at this point, she was convinced that they were beyond saving, but Stiles didn’t seem concerned. He tapped against her window before stepping around the open door, “You should probably let it run for a while. Take the scenic route home; enjoy all the Beacon Hills hotspots open past 8:00 pm on a weeknight. I personally recommend the Rite Aid or Walmart.”

Drea snorted, “Maybe I’ll swing by the Preserve. I hear the woods are especially beautiful in the foreboding darkness.”

“Don’t.” Serious was an odd look on Stiles’s face. Drea decided that she much preferred the goofy grin. “Don’t go anywhere near the Preserve. It’s officially cordoned off—totally locked down, quarantine-zone-central. Something about flesh-eating, parasitic plant life.”

“As completely real and unobtrusive as that sounds,” Drea drawled, “don’t worry about it. Literally every single person in town knows about the body they found in the woods.” It was bound to happen, small town and all—and ‘woman dies in deadly animal attack’ was the most interesting thing that had happened in Beacon Hills since the intersection got a Target two years ago. “I’ve seen every installment of Friday the 13th and The Blair Witch Project. If I’m going to be murdered, I refuse to also be humiliated by a cliché C.O.D.” 

The manic expression on his face softened to a relieved smile and then again to a little smirk, “So what’s a certified fresh murder, then? Not that I doubt the depths of human depravity, but I think society killed off originality a few centuries ago.”

Drea thought back to a house fire with no origin, accelerant, or discernible cause. Apparently, not. “You know what they say,” she sighed, “life finds a way.”

Stiles tilted his head, “And death.”

“And death,” Drea agreed, staring at a small chip in her windshield. The cracks had just begun to spiderweb out from the pit. 

Stiles looked like he wanted to say something, and he looked so much like the Sheriff with his face twisted around thoughtful contemplation that she couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to make the connection. The boy in the photo had grown up. How unfortunate for him. Stiles swallowed whatever it was that was lingering on his tongue and shut Drea’s door. He leaned his elbow against the window frame and cocked his hand in a stiff little wave, “See ya in English, Dickinson—both of you.”

“Awful,” Drea’s nose scrunched as she buckled her seatbelt, “terrible, dreadful. A solid 25 on the ick meter.”

Stiles grinned and held up his hands, “I’ll think of something better by Monday, promise.” 

Drea put her car in drive once Stiles was safely a few feet from the wheels and flicked her damp hair over her shoulder, “I dwell in Possibility.” What a scary place to be, she thought as she watched Stiles disappear in her rearview mirror. Possibility. Hope. Life. She was chronically good at surviving; cockroached her way out of every horrible thing life squashed her with. Lately, all she could do was cling to her heartbeat and the warmth of her skin, until she was barely more than roadkill. A walking carcass was a far cry from living, but Death would not stop for her, so she stopped looking for him. She kept treading water, took her pills, stopped existing—she was a lot like Schrödinger’s cat that way: too stubborn to live, too stubborn to die. She didn’t know what to do if someone unsealed the box and forced her to choose. That was the trouble with possibility; it required far too much uncertainty.

[marytunno]

-read below-

BEFORE WINTER CAME

He had been the king and she… she had those lovely golden curls… yellow like the crops now growing on the battlefields… yellow like his banners… She had pretended to not know who he was… as if no one in the whole city didn’t recognize the man that had killed the dragon and won the throne… he had called her by a different name as he spent himself in her, her back against the hard walls of the tavern, her gown hiked up. She had smiled and giggled the whole time, feeling like the luckiest girl in the kingdom, the voices of the patrons inside singing some drinking song, his kisses tasting like the expensive wine she had served just a few hours before. It felt like a song, his eyes so blue, his arms so strong and even if it was just for only one night she had been loved by a king. He had paid her well before leaving,  golden coins in her hands, a playful tug on her yellow hair as he disappeared into the night. 

-

Ned loved her, Catelynn was sure of it, breathing in his scent as he lay beside her. She loved him as well but she had hated him too, screamed at him with all her fury, cried salty tears and cursed his honour, now as she rested in his arms it all seemed to fade, her anger, her fears. Her beautiful first boy was growing healthy and strong, and one day he would have been lord, him, not some bastard, and her second, so beautiful and delicate, her eyes the exact shade of her Tully blue. Her husband kissed softly her brow and she closed her eyes smiling, warm in the coldest land of the realm. She wondered if she could be pregnant again, wishing with all her heart for it to be true, maybe this time the baby would have taken the Stark look, she was sure her Ned would have been happy about it. A beautiful baby with dark hair and grey eyes, a wolf.

-

It wasn’t like Gendry liked trouble, even less he liked his mother telling him how his father would have beaten him if only he had been there. When he felt mean he talked back, he told her that he wasn’t scared about her threats, his father was not coming back, not to him, not to her, she always looked very sad when he acted like that and he felt guilty. He wondered if there was something wrong with him, a little monster under his skin making him say bad things and punch the other kids when they called him names. A monster that made him hate everyone and everything. Well, Gendry didn’t hate his mum, she was nice to him, even when she was tired after work, even when he came back home all dirty and with a bleeding knee, she sang some songs about knights and heroes and for a moment he allowed himself to dream, to imagine a future where he was a brave knight helping the people. He didn’t like much the other kids of Flea Bottom, one of the other tavern girls had once called him "little bastard" and the name had stuck, at first, he had jumped on everyone that called him that but soon he had realized that he couldn’t fight a whole kingdom that thought the same thing. One day, suddenly, his mum was gone, a bad fever had taken her at night, he had been happy at first when she had stopped coughing and crying, letting him sleep in the cot they shared. In the morning she had been cold, another kid would have cried but he couldn’t, he went for the owner of the tavern and soon his mum was taken away leaving him all alone. 

-

Arya loved the mornings in Winterfell, listening to the wind outside her windows, the smell of freshly baked pies and tarts from the kitchens, warm in her furs ready to step barefoot on the pavement and go wake everyone up. She loved sitting at her father’s table breaking their fast, listening to her father’s men, smiling with a full mouth, making her brothers laugh and making her mother shake her head. People around the castle called her Underfoot, always running around asking questions and making friends with stewards and kitchen maids. Sometimes it was easier to be friends with them than with her peers, the ladies she should have been friends with. If only she had been good at being a lady, forcing her wrong hand to stitch pretty like Sansa or Jeyne could, if only she could stay sitting still listening to Septa Mordane and her lessons, she wanted to be a good child, make her mother and father happy but sometimes she felt so wrong. But when everything else seemed grey and sombre there was Jon, always there to make her smile, her favourite brother, her favourite person in the whole world. She had ruined her dress again, this time it had been mudd, after a summer snow the ground had been wet and soft and she had run on it, looking for wildflowers under the melting puddles of snow. Arya’s father had hidden a laugh looking at her all dishevelled running to him, grass and purple flowers in hand as a gift, he had told her he loved the wild in her, Arya knew he did.

-

The boy had spent most of his days working, his arms aching and his skin burning with the heat of the forge. After his mum had died he had been sure he would have ended up on the streets that smelled like shit and blood, nothing good was ever going to happen to him there. Then a day a weird man, his face hidden by his fancy cloak, had taken him to master Mott, he had told him he knew his mother and that had been enough explanation for Gendry. His master had been harsh but respected hard work so even when he cursed at Gendry for his bigmouth or his stubbornness he had started to like the boy. Working and hammering hot steel had always been easier than being friends with the other apprentices, easier than smiling and bowing at fat lords. Someone had told him he acted like a scowling bull and he had liked it, in his head it made sense, so when he had enough material he had started working on his helmet shaping it like a bull’s head. Master Mott had asked him if he wanted to wear it to war and another apprenticed boy had laughed at him telling him how he needed a sword too if he wanted to dream about fighting, but Mott had smiled and told Gendry the smartest thing was to protect one’s head, even if his was already as thick as heads came. A man with bad teeth and a bald man had come to see him for reasons unknown to him. His master had scolded him when he had acted standoffish telling him how they had been lords but for what Gendry cared he could have met the king himself and still would have acted as rude as he wanted to. One day again another lord had come to him, like the old one he had been hand of the king, eyes as dark as winter were staring at him, Gendry had heard about Lord Stark’s cold gaze but there had been something different in those eyes, something warm. 

-

Leaving the north had been a mistake, at first Arya had thought about it as an adventure, her first chance to see the world, but the prince had been a monster, her sister a liar and not even her father had stopped the Hound from hurting her friend. She had never felt as alone as she had felt in the busy King’s Landing, Jon far far away at the wall, her mother and brothers safe at home, her father busy with saving the kingdom from its own king. As she explored the halls of the Red Keep she felt something wrong in the air, in the way people lied to each other, in the heat that made her skin sticky, in the purple under her father’s eyes, whispers echoing through the chambers where once had been dragons. Leaving home had been a mistake, Arya was sure of it as she ran away from the queen’s guards, her heart thundering in her chest, holding Needle and a practice sword ready to use them if necessary, hoping to be strong enough to save her father and sister and take them back to Winterfell where they belonged. The lessons from Syrio gave her strength as her whole world was crumbling down on her, she had to be strong, she had to be fierce, she had to be quick, even if she was scared she could not let that fear cut through her, she could not let her fear stop her. More than ever she felt like a child, lost and alone but more than ever she felt like she could become something more, she had to become something more, she was a wolf and she was not going to be afraid.

-

But this was before... before kings clashed and before horrors rose, before the long summer ended… before destinies crossed each other and howls filled the nights of traitors… one thing is true, in the end, no matter where one started from winter is coming for everyone.

Don't really know what I'm doing, I hope you enjoyed this fic <3 you will find the works for this appreciation week also here:

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 41]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

Warning(s): Indigo has a rather graphic nightmare and anxiety caused by the nightmare. Eluding to character injury and harm.

"Even if it means that having to hurt both of us, I would do anything as long as you are safe. You'll be okay without me, Mings. You'll be okay." You held Mingi's face in your hands, trying your best to form a smile like you were okay. Tears streamed down his cheeks and it broke you to know that you were the cause of them.

"Please, don't go... Don't go, baby. Don't leave me. You promised me that you would always stay." He choked, his hands gripping your wrists tightly.

"You'll be okay." You smiled through the tears. As you leaned forward to give him a final kiss, Mingi faded away.

When you opened your eyes again and looked around, you gasped. The house around you was torn to shred, the glass cracking under your shoes as you stood amongst the mess.

"Mings!" You screamed as you saw him laying there. Scrambling over to him, you brushed the glass away, not caring that it was cutting you.

"No, Mingi!" When you turned him around to lay on his back, you nearly shrieked in terror.

Mingi was almost unrecognisable, his face black and blue from injuries. But what scared you the most was the head wound, his hair stained bright red by his own blood. You moved him onto your lap, gently holding his cheek as you cried.

"Song Mingi! Please wake up, Mings. Please." You begged as you cried, head falling into his chest. How could this have happened? How could you allow this to happen to him?

You were supposed to protect him.

"I warned you." Someone said from behind you. You turned around but your tears blurred your vision, you couldn't make out who this person was.

"Take it out on me. Why did you have to do this to him?! He didn't deserve this!" You cried.

"Hurting you would be an easy way out. I need you to hurt and how else to do it other than hurting the one you love. Now you have to live with the guilt of being the reason he's hurt." The person cackled.

"No!" You sat up with a gasp. Your heart was racing in your chest, you felt almost breathless as you couldn't keept up. Cold sweat covered your forehead and tears lined your cheeks.

3 AM

Letting out a curse, you carefully slid out of bed and went to go get yourself a glass of ice cold water. Hopefully the sudden temperature would shock your brain and get rid of the anxiety that was creeping in your chest. You leaned against your kitchen wall, you just needed to stop thinking for a while.

"Ba...by...?" Mingi stumbled out of the bedroom. He stood there, eyes barely open. He let out a yawn as he scratched his arms, trying to adjust to the lights of the kitchen.

"Hey, Mings. I hope I didn't wake you. Go back to sleep." You said softly, straightening up.

"Are you alright?" He rubbed his eyes to properly focus on you.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just came out for a glass of water." You shook the glass in your hand, the ice cubes clinking against the sides. Mingi shuffled over to you, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Did you have a nightmare? You cried..." He asked worriedly, tenderly stroking your cheek where your tears were earlier.

"Mmm but it's just a nightmare. I'll be fine." You placed your cold hand over his warm one.

"You should really sleep. We have a flight to catch and then you'll be working right away. You need to sleep as much as you can." You sighed. Tomorrow, you were following Eden, the boys and their team for their overseas music video shoot.

The boys were expected to start from the moment they land. Their managers would be the ones bringing their bags to the hotel and checking them in.

"I'm fine. Besides, I won't go back to sleep and leave you out here on your own." Mingi insisted with a frown.

"Mings..." You chewed your lip, feeling conflicted.

"I'm not saying it is your fault." He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand never leaving your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your cheek pressing against his chest.

"You'll be okay, baby. I won't let anything hurt you while I am around." He promised, stroking your head.

You and Mingi just stood there, quietly embracing each other at 3am, under the only light that was on in your apartment. He periodically pressed comforting kisses to the top of your head, a small reminder that he was still here and won't leave you. Mingi's body pressed against yours melted away your anxiety.

"Don't fall asleep on me, baby." He chuckled.

"I won't." You murmured. You felt Mingi move and his hands slid under your thighs, carefully carrying you up. With your legs around his waist, you clung to him like a koala.

"Careful." Mingi laid down with your back on the mattress and him hovering over you. He held your cheek, his eyes searching yours even in the dark.

"Don't worry anymore, hmm?" He spoke softly. Tears welled up in your eyes again, you didn't deserve him. Really.

"Shh..." He wiped your tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down.

"It's okay, baby. Whatever it is, we'll get through it togther." Hearing him whisper that in your ear made you cry even harder. You softly cried into his shoulder.

Mingi turned the two of you gently so his weight wouldn't crush you. But he never you go, continuing to hold you and hush you like you were a child. One hand rested on the back of your head while the other gently massaged the exposed skin of your hip.

"I'm here, I'll always be here." He kissed your forehead. With Mingi's coaxing, you fell back asleep.

When morning came around, Mingi woke up first. He wanted to let you sleep more so he washed up and changed, even made coffee before waking you up.

"Morning, baby." He planted a kiss to your temple. The smile you replied with was forced.

"Don't trip over the luggage." He cautioned. There was a distant look in your eyes, the nightmare from last night must have really affected you.

"Ugh." You held your head.

"Here, have these first. It'll help." He put two painkillers into your hand. This time, your grateful smile was a little more genuine. You popped the pills and went to get ready for the airport. You dressed comfortably, sweat pants, a hoodie, a beanie and a mask to hide your face from the paparazzi.

"I'll see you later. If you don't feel well, tell me." He said. Mingi had to get his luggage from the dorm upstairs while you were going to meet the manager downstairs to ride with the stylists and Eden.

"I will. Don't worry about me." You tiptoed to give him a kiss. With a squeeze on the shoulder, Mingi left the house.

"Let's do this." You said to your reflection before bringing your bags to the carpark downstairs.

"You look awful. Did you not sleep?" Hongjoong frowned.

"Good morning to you too, Joong." You replied bitterly. Seonghwa nudged the captain for being insensitive while Wooyoung came to hug you, snuggling into you.

"What's with this?" You lightly tugged at the way all his hair was tucked under the beanie. He leaned back before you could pull it off.

"Surprise~" He smirked. Soon, your van came. Eden waved to the boys while you loaded your bags with the help of San and Jongho. You waved and bowed to the boys before climbing in with the few stylists. They waved back as the van drove off.

"Look guys, Indigo had a rough night. So please, just tone it down a little." Mingi sighed. Yunho cleared his throat and everyone cast glances at Hongjoong.

"What? Don't look at me like that. I didn't know! And that's how she and I banter." Hongjoong sulked, crossing his arms.

"What happened? What did you do?" Seonghwa was more worried about you than anything.

"Calm down, mama bear. I didn't do anything. She had a nightmare and I think it really freaked her out. She's been a little out of it since I woke her up." Mingi waved his hands to calm Seonghwa down.

"Poor Indigo." San pouted.

"I just want her to go and relax, not having to think too much about work." Mingi said. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement.

"Luckily they booked the whole area and lodging for the duration of our stay there. So Indigo won't be bothered and she can destress there." Yunho smiled, squeezing his best friend's shoulder. When their vans were all ready, they loaded their bags into the vans and jumped in, ready to go to the airport.

"Are you alright? You look pale." Eden asked.

"Fine. Just feeling a little tired but I'll sleep on the plane." You assured him, rubbing your eyes and pulling your hood up.

"You're there to learn but also take the time to relax and rest, okay?" He nudged you playfully. You nodded with a hum. When the van pulled up, you saw all the fans waiting.

"Are they waiting for the boys?" You asked.

"Yes, it's always like that. Don't worry, just stick with us." One of the stylists smiled to you. You bowed your head gratefully.

"The fans don't usually bother the staff. We'll still try to keep you hidden." The other stylist giggled. You figured they must know about hiding your identity.

"Let's go." You all came out of the van. Thinking your van had the Ateez members, you heard the fans preamptively scream and shutters go off. Although, you were sure some people were excited to see Eden, recognising him as Ateez's head producer.

"Who is that?"

"Is there a new person joining Edenary?" Fans were whispering about you as you walked past them.

You obviously didn't look like a stylist, you weren't dressed like them and you walked beside Eden. Some fans tried to get a glimpse of you but you made it safely to the check in counter.

"Place all check in luggage here, please." The lady smiled.

"I'll do it." One of the crew helped you. You bowed and stood to the side while the stylist team checked in.

"Umm, excuse me." Someone said. You turned around, blinking. The girl and her friend jumped as you face them, obviously weirded out by how you were entirely covered except your eyes.

"Are you part of Edenary?" She asked. You stared at her, your eyes not giving anything away.

"Do you speak English?" Her friend prompted. You didn't reply, bowing your head respectfully and following the team through to the security checks. You were worried about how you were going to remove your mask now. But then, you heard screams, the real Ateez boys were here.

"Here." You handed your boarding pass and passport to the security guard, passing through the scanner quickly now that the fans' attention was directed away from the accompanying staff.

"You good?" One of the stylists asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks." You adjusted your mask. It was relatively calm after that. While waiting to board the plane, you all got coffee.

"My name is Indigo. Part of the producing team." You introduced yourself softly. They were all friendly, all introducing themselves with kind smiles.

"Do you always wear a mask?" Sohee, another stylist, asked.

"Ah... Yes... I keep my identity hidden from public eye." You replied, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You didn't want them to think you were a diva or conceited.

"That's smart. We should have done that from the start. Now fans know what we look like and some of them like to ask us for favours or information." One of the film crew people shook his head with a sigh of dismay. The others nodded in agreement.

"By the way, I know what you're all thinking but Indigo isn't my apprentice." Eden added with an amused smile and his arms crossed.

"She's not?"

"No, I'm not. I mean, I work with Edenary but I was brought into KQ by Eden as a freelancer. Actually I've been producing for a while now. Just underground." You explained.

"You all definitely know her songs. Her signature is 'not your indigo child'." Eden explained. You punched his shoulder to stop exposing you.

"Oh my gosh! I love your songs. You used to work with that R&B singer, Dean, right?" Soon, everyone was fawning over you. You were flustered, not used to so much attention being on you.

"It's an honour." They suddenly wanted to shake hands with you.

"No, please. I'm still learning a lot from Eden and Edenary members. I barely know anything about what it's really like in the industry above ground. That's why I'm here, to learn from all of you on this entire process." You shook your hands to. Luckily your mask was covering your cheeks.

"I've always wanted to know what your signature means." Jihyun, the makeup artist, leaned on her hands.

"It was just something silly I came up with when I was younger. Indigo children are known to possess special traits and abilities. I wanted to show that I made it myself." You coughed.

"I'm not anyone's apprentice or student, I'm not their 'indigo child' for them to take credit for." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Wah, that's genius."

"It's really not." You mumbled. Soon, there was some loud chatter, making you look up. The Ateez boys were huddled in a group, with their managers and bodyguards.

"There are still fans on the inside?" You asked, noticing the girls that were following the group all the way to the gate.

"Some fans try to buy tickets on the be on the same flights as the boys but don't worry, the airline blocks an area for all of us and the artists. The fans aren't allowed to enter that section of the plane." Sohee assured. You nodded your head slowly.

"We should board soon." Someone said. You all gathered your bags and queued up behind Ateez for the airport staff to do a final check before you could board.

"Stay close." Jihyun tugged you in so the fans wouldn't maul you. You briefly met eyes with Mingi. His eyes were soft, full of concern.

"Omg, Mingi oppa!" The fans waved, thinking he was looking at them.

"Have a nice flight." The person handed you your ticket and passport after checking. You bowed and walked in. The guards there directed your entire group to the blocked off cabin.

"Indigo, I got us upgraded to business class." Eden informed. Your new friends pouted at your departure.

"Come on, we need to work with Hongjoong." Eden chuckled. You nodded and waved to your friends with a promise to see them later. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you went with Eden to the business class cabin where the Ateez boys were settling in. They all waved excitedly when they saw you.

"We told Eden hyung to move you up here so you can remove your mask and rest properly." Hongjoong smiled softly.

"Thanks, Joong. I really appreciate it." You removed your mask and went to the spare seat. You were in the middle aisle, with Mingi on your left across the aisle and Seonghwa directly on your right.

"Hyung, change places with me." Mingi said.

"No chance." Seonghwa scoffed, making you giggle. Mingi sulked while you reached over to pat his hand.

"I'm still next to you, Mings." You comforted. From beside Mingi, Yunho nodded in agreement and gave you a thumbs up. Mingi glared at his best friend.

"I know they will be serving the meals after but here." Seonghwa got your attention, offering gummies.

"Candy for breakfast, Hwa?" You teased.

"You want them or not?" He gave you a deadpanned look. You nodded and took a few gummies to eat. Although you didn't mention it, this was the first time you have ever left Korea and been on a plane. Your heart pounded with nerves.

"Never flown before?" Seonghwa asked softly, his hand coming to hold yours.

"That obvious?" You winced. He chuckled, reaching out to pat your head but he didn't say anything more. After the safety video played, the plane started to move.

"You should have asked for a window seat." Seonghwa whispered. He felt you subconsciously squeeze his hand.

"Would that have helped?"

"I think it makes you feel less claustraphobic and knowing where you are in the take off might help. Or else you don't really know where you are yet. In the sky? Still ascending?" He theorised.

"That makes sense." You hummed. Seonghwa continued to offer you gummies to make you feel more at ease.

Not once did Seonghwa ridicule or question you about this being your first time flying. He didn't judge. So what if you have never been in a plane before? That's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their own reasons. And it helped that Seonghwa knew what kind of parents you grew up with.

"There we go." The seatbelt sign turned off and you let go of Seonghwa's hand with a sigh of relief. As if it were routine, the boys stood up to get their stuff from the overhead.

"Do you still have a headache?" Mingi crouched down in front of you, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I'm alright, Mings. Don't worry." You smiled.

"If you need me, at any time..." He trailed off, opting to kiss your fingertips. Seonghwa cleared his throat at Mingi's bold action. Your cheeks heated up.

"The attendants are going to come in for the first round of drinks soon, Mingi ah." Seonghwa reminded.

"Right." Mingi shot you another adoring look, stroking your head before returning to his seat. You pulled your mask up.

"This is the menu. In the meantime, would you like something to drink?" The attendant asked.

"Orange juice would be good. Thanks." You bowed your head as you received the inflight menu. She placed the orange juice down on top of a napkin. After that, she moved on the the next person. You looked over at Seonghwa.

"Not sure what to eat?" He knew you too well. You nodded, hiding behind the menu in embarrassment. Seonghwa recommended you his favourite items on the menu.

"They have this really nice cheese bread. It's served warm which makes it nice." He recommended.

Of course you couldn't go wrong with Seonghwa's food recommendations. Everything you got was surprisingly good, you enjoyed every course and dish that was served to you. .

"I bet you thought airplane food was gonna be bad." He chuckled, reaching out to wipe a crumb away from your lip. You nodded sheepishly.

"Television doesn't portray it as being the best."

"True. I guess a lot of airplane food can be quite terrible. But we We are in business class and we know what to order so that helps." He said, taking a bite of his pasta. With your meal, you ordered a glass of red wine, hoping that the little bit of alcohol will help keep you asleep for the rest of the flight.

"I'm so full. I think I can sleep now." You yawned. The flight attendant came to clear your empty trays and you got ready to sleep. You reclined the seat and put your Airpods in to sleep.

"Is she asleep?" Mingi asked as you were facing away from him. Seonghwa nodded, putting a finger to his lips.

"Mingi." Seonghwa cautioned when Mingi stood up from his seat and stood by your side.

"I'm not going to do anything, hyung. And everyone else is asleep." Mingi gestured to the cabin. He adjusted your blanket and looked at your sleeping face.

"Sleep well." He kissed your head before returning back to his seat.

~

Series Masterlist

[teddyeyeseddie]

The Draft

Part of the ❤️‍🩹🏒🦇Steddie Hockey AU!🦇🏒❤️‍🩹

A series by Teddyeyeswinchester x @lfaewrites

2.2k of tooth rotting fluff and smut

(A/N: I have slaved over this for days and days trying to get it perfect! Thank you to my lovely best friend @lfaewrites for writing this series with me and encouraging me while I wrote this. Hope you all enjoy this glimpse into the life of Bijou and Eddie!)

CW: fluff, nicknames (bonehead, bijou, sweets), eddie's missing teeth, oral ( fem & male rec), p in v, breeding kink, daddy!kink vibes, minors dni

I'd be so good to Ya- By @lfaewrites

You’re with him when he gets the call, the call that changed his life and set him off into a whirlwind of ice and pucks. 

It sets a fire in his veins, and everything he has worked for is placed in front of him. His hard work all paid off when he heard the first ring. He answers the unknown call on your home phone with trembling fingers, your heart stops when you hear his voice croak out a soft, scared “Hello”. 

Your heart picks up speed, and beats out of your chest when you see his mouth turn up into a huge Cheshire grin, his missing teeth on full display as a passionate “YES!” echoes off the walls and rings in your ears. 

Shortly after he sees his picture displayed on your TV screen, fake teeth in, a smile on full display. 

“And the first draft pick for the Hawkins Tigers…#69 Eddie ”The Monster” Munson!” 

Wayne cries when he sees his picture, his Hoosier senior hockey picture bright on the screen. 

Eddie hangs up the phone in enough time to see himself on the screen in your small house, he runs to you and picks you up off your feet, swinging you around with his forehead pressed against yours. 

He's still swinging you around when he hears, “And the first draft pick for the Chicago TImberwolves #17 Steve “Le Loup Bleu Du Québec” Harrington!” 

The next thing he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, the squealing and jumping you are doing left to the back burner as his gaze is caught by the TV screen, a boy with perfect hair and the pinkest lips. He snaps out of it as fast as he fed into it, a familiar feeling of guilt and shame settling low in his belly when he looks at you, smiling up at him and smiling at the screen. 

“That’s my Stevie! We grew up together, oh I’m so proud of him Eds!” He quickly settles down on the couch, nursing a beer as you skip to the kitchen to grab more wine for yourself.

In between wine and beer and soft kisses, you manage to squeeze Eddie into an old Hawkins Tigers jersey he had laying in his closet, polaroid out to take pictures of the boy. His smile is so bright it makes your heart bloom. He was so into the moment, he didn’t even bother to put in his fake teeth.

The two of you continue to sip your drinks, knotted up together on the couch and stealing kisses as he watches the rest of the draft. Wayne heads out halfway through, bidding you both a small “Goodnight” and jetting home. 

As the draft bleeds into reruns of wheel-of-fortune, Eddie is distracted enough that he doesn’t even notice you slipping off the couch and into your shared bedroom. 

You clear your throat, arms crossed as you look down at Eddie, his head shoots up, a smile cracking at his face as he realizes what you have on. 

He lets out a goofy giggle, standing to grab your hand and place a kiss to it. 

“Got one of my old Hawkin’s Tigers jerseys? Don’t even gotta worry about that old thing anymore, s’ from my fan days. Daddy’s on the team now- gonna have you decked out in all kinds of stuff, sweets,” 

You shake your head, gripping his hand as you do a little twirl so your back is facing Eddie. 

Hopper, being like a second dad to you and coach for the Hawkin’s Tigers, gave you the inside scoop on just who he was aiming for in his first draft pick. You immediately take this information and march to Joyce’s office, begging her to order you a jersey for a “special occasion”. 

MUNSON 

69 

“Oh we’re so gonna sixty-nine..” He wolf whistles and spins you around, the oversized jersey skimming against your bare legs. 

“Got another little surprise for you, bonehead,” You grab the edge of the jersey, lifting it just enough, pretty white lace thinly covering your center making Eddie’s legs go weak.

“S’ for me Bijou?” He questions, skin burning bright red on his cheeks. 

“S’ always for you, Eds, My mean ol’ hockey player,” he grins at your words, hands gently extending to rest against your hips. 

He whimpers at your words, his teddy bear eyes begging you to show him something more. 

“Cmon’ now big boy, don’t get all shy on me…” You grab his hand, pulling him behind you as you guide him into the bedroom. You lead him to the bed, forcing him to sit down before you slot yourself between his legs and play with the hem of his jersey. 

“M’ so proud of you baby,” 

You pull at his top, striping it from his body before you lean down to kiss his full lips. You push at his chest, Eddie dramatically falling back with a little “oof”. Your hands rake down his sides, drinking in the ripples in his muscles, fingers tracing at scars, lips pressing into them softly which only makes him writhe.

“Please Bijou, need you so bad,” he gasps from above you, hips bucking off the mattress to chase some sort of friction. Your hands dip into his sweatpants pulling out his cock. It’s always been one of your favorite parts of him. So soft, thick and long. 

You place kisses down his shaft, moaning loudly at how perfect he feels in your hand. You slowly move your hand up and down, his precum doing an ample job at reducing the friction that comes from tugging on his cock. 

You lean down a little, taking one of his balls into your mouth, chin tickling against his hole. A moment flashes behind his eyes of the pretty little thing on his TV screen, slotted between his legs with you. He shoos the thought away, feeling guilty at the idea that he’d want two people in the bedroom. You’ve always been enough, why is he thinking about someone else in the equation, especially a man. 

After he wills away the thought, bucking his hips up, cock hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. You pull away from him and he takes advantage of the little distance between the two of you, sitting up and grabbing you under your arms. He lifts you, with ease, and plants you back onto the bed where it's his turn to kneel between your legs. 

He licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit, cherry red lips suckling around the hardened nub. Your hands card through his hair, tugging softly at his curly locks to which he offers the neediest moan. Eddie, if one thing, is a whore for having his hair pulled. Once you tugged on the hair at the base of his neck when locked in a kiss and a new door slowly opened for the two of you to explore. It was after one of the most important college games of the year, you had a whole “celebration” planned for when you got home but Eddie couldn’t make it there. He took you in the back of his truck, you riding him as you tugged at the same hairs adorning the nape of his neck. He never came as hard as he did that night. 

Eddie continues sucking on your clit, calloused hands teasing their way up to your hole, fingers swiping through your mess before pushing one finger in. His college championship ring cold against you as he slowly fucks the digit in and out. Upon realizing his ring is still on he takes it off, leaning up to take your ring finger in his hand before sliding the band onto your left hand. 

“One day you’re gonna have a rock on that hand, sweets. Gonna buy you the biggest diamond, gonna be able to flash that thing at me while I’m on the ice, you’d like that huh? A little symbol showing everyone you’re mine?”

You nod dumbly, the tables turning as you let Eddie take the reigns in order to take care of you. He slots himself back between your thighs, pressing kisses from your knee back to your center. His fingers find their way back inside you, this time there are two petting at your velvety walls. He draws circles on your clit, fingers fucking into you at a consistent pace bringing you closer to the edge. You come with his name on your lips like a prayer, soft whimpers of “Daddy” coursing through the air and into Eddie’s mushy brain. 

He pulls up once he's content with how much your thighs are shaking, little shocks running through them as you try to come down from your high. His hand raises to wipe at the bit of slick that had dripped down onto his chin, his stubble catching most of it and soaking the hair. 

“Gonna fuck you now, flip you over and come all over this pretty little number you got on.”

You whimper at his words, flipping over willingly and pushing back against his groin. 

“Or would you want me to come inside? Get you all round with my babies?  Jus’ another way to let everyone know what's mine.”

He discards your underwear, the tip of his cock bumping against your hole, his large hand gripping the base and guiding it into you. He bottoms out, pistoning in slowly as to let you adjust to his size. No matter how may times Eddie fucked you, you always needed time to adjust to his size. 

“You can move faster, bonehead,” you moan out, a little bite to your words causing Eddie to harshly snap his hips into you. 

“Mm nope. Gonna take it slow tonight. Want you to feel how much I love you. Gonna take my time,” He picks up the pace just a tiny bit, the new speed still slow and sensual but doing the job. 

You’re a blubbering mess by the time he has you on the edge, whimpers being muffled by the crumpled up bed spread. Sweat beads at the dip of your back, Eddie’s hand leaving your hip to wipe at his forehead. It’s been what feels like hours of Eddie pushing and pulling you toward and away from your orgasm. 

“Think I’ve teased you enough, sweets? Gonna let you come now, come on baby come all over Daddy’s cock, you can do it Bijou,” His hips snap into yours at a much faster, relentless pace. It finally puts you over the edge, fire igniting and rushing through your belly as you clench around him. The pressure that's built up in Eddie’s admoned is about to snap. He pulls out briefly before little begs of “Inside, please Daddy inside,” come from your lips. 

He places himself back inside you , hips moving at a consistent pace before he starts to stutter. 

“Fuck Bijou, gonna come,” he keens before emptying himself inside you. He stills for a moment, his breath ragged as he tries to regain some composure and energy. Eddie finally pulls out a few moments later, his fingers coming to collect some of his cum and your release, pushing it back inside you. 

He pulls his fingers out, flipping you back over and raising your leg to press a soft kiss to your ankle. He retreats to the bathroom , returning with a warm cloth. Slowly and gently, he wipes at your center, the warmth doing little to nothing to soothe the ache between your legs. 

He’s quiet as he gathers clothes for the two of you. He offers you a pair of his boxers and an old Hoosier’s tee before climbing into bed beside you. 

“How’d you know I was gonna get drafted by the Tigers?” He finally asks as he props himself up on his elbow and smiles down at you.

“A little birdie told me, duh Eds,” You quip back with a small giggle. 

“A little birdie named Hopper?” he questions, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before turning over and cutting off the lamp on his bedside table. 

“Yes bonehead, a little birdie named Hopper,” 

That night he dreams, dreams of ice and pucks. Dreams of you in white. Dreams of you and your kids happily playing in a big backyard. But, what throws him for a loop the next morning, is the pink lipped stranger that weaseled his way into every dream he had that night.

[kamisopp]

" so how did you meet luffy && zoro ? " // planned starter for @1pieced !!

[1st-poet-on-the-moon]

My original poem about Remus Lupin and Sirius Black because these fictional people broke me:

The Moon And The Star

Hands that are ice, eyes that are kind

Insides so ruined for a soul so bright

A heart takes shelter, a beast wants out

The same ribcage,

Broken bones,

Blood in his mouth

Fool me once, fool me twice

Keep the secret until it dies

Moonlight fills in the cracks that it left

Stealing his soul was the cruelest theft

How many more till you drown in the lies you're full of?

Who would hear the screams of the boy who cried wolf?

A star shines through the cold black night

No other light to keep it company in plain sight

A soul made of shadows and untamable seas

A sculpted wildfire, going mad with the slightest breeze

But a dutiful heir of a cursed throne is what everyone sees

His collar ripped away from clawing hands

By the ghost of a plea to be loved, to be saved

For all of his lightning

From all of his darkening

All in the same damned breath

The blending of two broken souls

The mending of all of their broken bones

Beneath the cracks, the warmest of light grows

Castles burning down to let each other in

Finally finding solace in the enchantment of being seen

My poem: the moon and the star

[iloveyousmmm]

TOA HEADCANONS

uhmm

idk…

i have a lot

but here’s some head canons!!🥰😘

no they’re not organized.

i’m not really adding any ROTT hcs because i haven’t watched that in 2 years…i’m too scared to watch it again.

jim is bi or pan 100%

when toby was 10-13 he would literally go weeks without showers..

Bular isn’t straight either. he’s like under the bi umbrella.

dictatious is gay because like…yea

Gunmar slept with men because women were scarce.

blinky and dictatious both have audhd.

claire isn’t straight either. nobody in toa are straight…

angor called morgana mom more than 4004838 times.

angor is unlabeled.

gunmar and dictatious had a thing while in the darklands… but when they got out gunmar like got colder towards diccy max obvi.

when james sr left it took barbara years to try to get back into dating. like she started to date again when jim was 13.

y’all remember that one gumm-gumm troll who was crying when the nyarlagroths died? his name is jeram. literally sounds like how it looks.

anyway jeram and bular had a “connection” before the killahead bridge battle..iyk;)

bular can actually cook really good troll food (he makes really good…fleshy meals…if your a troll..)

dictatious knew angor rot in the past and they were actually really good friends. prolly more.

douxie used to trip over his staff many times cause he would all ways forget to put it in his bracelet thingy.

Bular was forced(by strickler) to wear a winter coat, pants, boots that were made for him, and a lil beanie when it was snowing outside even though he was used to the snow.

if bular knew what it was he’d definitely play electric guitar.

when given catnip, bular and gunmar(or any other gumm-gumm’s) will go crazy😪

jim hates his full name(James Lake Jr) because he was literally named after his dum dum dad.

toby has a full drawer of phones.

claire used to be a wolf/galaxy girl in elementary or middle school.

steve looked…questionable in middle school.

bular missed jeram every day.

gunmar actually cried alone about his sons death. if you caught him or anyone for that matter he’d kill you.

if bular was human in wizards he’d be some angsty teen.

bular would most definitely listen to queen, korn, mindless self indulgence, and MCR.

jim DOES listen to queen. that’s all he listens too.

jim would cry to the song beautiful boy by john lennon because it’d remind him of his dad in the past.

gunmar was good but tough to bular.

bular would have a love hate relationship with ice cream. he’d hate chocolate but love vanilla.

angor did the whip and nae nae once.

dictatious had a pet goblin who’d he take care of…a lot.. till gunmar ‘accidentally’ stepped on it. diccy was crushed.

dictatious and angor would definitely binge watch steven universe.

THATS ALL!! for now😈😈😈

[bwoahtastic]

Oh my god, your idea about Toto already having the wolf and tiger print tattoo and then getting a peacock and a mouse because Seb insisted is so cute! Like, maybe Toto gets the wolf and tiger print because he always wants him and Seb to be together, and he also wants to show Seb how much he means to him. He initially thinks about getting the tattoo over his heart, very symbolic, but then decides to have it put on his wrist so he can see it more often.

I feel like Nico would love the tattoo as well. Even when Seb is being a little grumpypants and hating Nico, one of Nico's favorite things about Toto is his absolute devotion to Seb, so he loves seeing that in tattoo form.

And then Seb being the one to insist that Toto get it updated 🥹😭! That's just the sweetest thing ever. Seb begging momma or papa to take him to the library for research but not letting them know what he's looking up. Seb is so careful in his research and finds out what a peacock print and a mouse print would look like and carefully copies them out onto a piece of paper. He then does his very own little business pitch to papa where he insists that because they're a family now, papa has to have all of them on his wrist and it isn't fair to momma or mousy if they're not on there. Of course Toto agrees and has the tattoo updated. Nico is so touched and Nicky would be totally fascinated by it. Maybe when Toto has the jewellery made for Nico they get a couple made for the pups too

Plss!! Toto loves his cub so much and Sebby is a papa's boy but Toto knows he is sometimes anxious and thinks papa will one day leave him! Toto getting thr tattoo to show Seb he is part of Toto'a life, that they will always be together and Seb is so happy and in awe!

Nico is so soft when Toto explains the tattoo to him (probably after seb pointedly pointed at papa's wrist just so nico knows who is most important sksks). Seb being a grumpy pants but Nico endures it because he loves what a devoted papa Toto is and he hopes one day Seb will accept him too!

Seb deciding that Nico isn't so bad and now he has a mousy brother too which is fun so ofc papa needs to up his game and update the tattoo! He goes and research the prints in the library with uncle Kimi and carefully traces the paw prints before taking the paper to papa and telling him ghe tattoo needs to be complete!

Seb going with papa to approve the design (but Kimictakes him for ice cream whilr Toto gets the tattoo done) and Seb is so happy seeing momma and nicky's pawprint on Toto's wrist too!

Toto going home and showing Nico firdt who definitely cries because he is so happy, and then they show mousy who would hug papa so tight!! He has a real family now!!

Toto gifting Nico a necklace with the prints and the pups get lil bracelets they can wear? So they all match!

[paisholotus]

Chapter Five

୨⎯ Narrative ⎯୧

"Be still, stranger, or you'll never move again." The wolf said, growling at Edmund. "Who are you?" The wolf asked.

"I'm Edmund! I met the Queen in the woods! She told me to come back here! I'm a Son of Adam!" Edmund frantically told him, shaking from the cold.

"Hmm. My apologies, fortunate favorite of the queen. Or else, not so fortunate." Laughed lowly, backing up. "Right this way." He said, nodding towards the palace doors.

The wolf walked Edmund into this big room, where the tall icy throne sat.

"Wait here." The wolf said, walking off to get the Queen.

Edmund peeked around the corner and walked up the steps to the icy throne cover in animal pelts. He sat down and smiled lightly, shimmying to get comfortable.

"Like it?" The Snow Witch said, coming from behind Edmund, scaring him.

"Uh... Yes, Your Majesty." Edmund said, nervously.

"I thought you might. Tell me, Edmund...Are your sisters dead?" The Witch said, smiling down at Edmund.

"No." He said, quietly.

"And your brother, is he..." She trailed off.

"...unintelligent? Well, I think so. But Mum says..." He said, smiling, but it faded once he saw how angry she was getting.

"Then how dare you come alone?!" She yelled, at Edmund, hitting her staff on the ground, cracking it.

"I tried!" Edmund yelled, backing into the chair, trying to reason with her.

"Edmund, I asked so little of you." She said, glaring at the frightened boy.

"They just don't listen to me!" He said, now breathing heavy.

"You couldn't even do that." She said, towering over Edmund, pointing her staff in his face.

"I did bring them halfway. They're at the little house at the dam with the Beavers." He said, frantically, with teary eyes.

"Well. I suppose you're not a total loss then, are you?" She said, dropping her staff, smiling at him.

"Well, I was wondering, could I maybe have some more Turkish delight now?" Edmund asked, wiping his eyes and nose.

"Our guest is hungry." The Witch said, to the wolf from earlier.

"This way for your num-nums." Maugrim said, pushing Edmund out the Throne room.

"Maugrim?" The Witch called, making the Wolf stop in its tracks.

"You know what to do." Maugrim bowed and continued to push Edmund out.

The wolf walked Edmund down long hallways, with all kinds of portraits of the Witch on the walls. They make it to the end of the hall of two tall doors being guarded by wolves, the wolves snarl and growl at Edmund, making him stop.

"Hey, you want your treats, don't you?" Maugrim asked, Edmund, who looked back at him terrified.

Maugrim nudged Edmund again, "then get moving! Queens orders." He said, making Edmund jump and start walking again.

They walked down spiral ice steps, until they reached the bottom.

Edmund's heart sank as he realized where he was.....a dungeon.

The wolf shoved Edmund into the cell, slapping shackles on his wrists and feet.

"WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO MY SIBLINGS!?" Edmund cried out.

Maugrim closed the door, locking, and scoffed shaking his head at Edmund.

"How, pathetic of you, kid. Sold out your own family. But I wouldn't worry your pretty head, they'll about to meet the same fate as you." He said, loudly laughing, walking away.

Edmund pulled his knees to his chest and cried.