#I love how even with boxes and stuff around it still looks kinda cozy

[chaoticparker]

My Future

peter parker x reader

(can be read as any peter as promised!)

Summary: It's valentine's day and Peter struggles to find the perfect gift for his one and only

w: fluff, kinda suggestive

w/c: 2.6k

a/n: featuring my french lol

masterlist

You woke up warm, shuffling around a bit only to realize that you can’t move all that much; something was holding you close.

“Stop moving, I’m trying to sleep.” Peter mumbled in your ear. You turned your neck around and saw Peter’s morning face brushed into the back of your head. “Trying to get back to my dream.”

“Oh yeah?” You kissed his cheek, turning around so you were laying on your back to get a better look at him. Peter adjusted so his arms were still wrapped around your waist, snuggling back into you like he hasn’t seen you all night. “You dreaming about me?”

“Mhm.” He sighed, barely opening his eyes just to see your face. “Dreaming about you ‘n me.”

“Ohh, what were we doing then?” You mumbled into his ear, closing your eyes from the too bright light. You looked at him and his sweet curls were just so perfect, his boyish grin was just too perfect. “Taking me out into the city and swinging around?”

“No.” He mumbled, cozying into the side of your face and his hand detaching from your waist and holding onto your hand with his. “But it was very special.”

“Ugh, perv.” You scoffed as you softly kicked him under the covers with your foot.

“It’s not that.” He muttered. “Can’t believe you’d think that low of me. I am a gentlemen.”

“A gentlemen that take up all of the covers.” You muttered.

“What was that?”

“You heard me.” You chuckled You brought your entwined hands together and kissed his knuckle; he smiled, watching your left hand intently. “Care to tell me about this dream then?” 

“Nope.” He smiled, kissing your cheek.

“And why not?”

“It won’t come true if you share.” He sheepishly mumbled. “And I really want it to come true.”

You scoffed, slightly laughing at his childish nature. But Peter took it very seriously. He didn’t want to put anything about your future at risk. He wanted that dream to come true; he wanted to know the feeling of anxiousness and excitement of that box in his pocket, he wanted to know that look on your face as he showed you the ring, one that would for sure put him in debt–not that he minded, of course.

But Peter knew better to get ahead of himself. He was young, still in school, and still asked his aunt for advice on every little thing–he didn’t even know how to check his bank account until last week. The poor boy was book smart, but no one would ever describe him having common sense. Luckily, you seemed to know everything, and if you didn’t know you’d help him–another thing he loved about you.

But he wanted that future, and he knew he needed to save another few years before that could come true. But a boy could dream.

“Don’t laugh at me, it’s serious.” He groaned, causing you to lightly laugh.

You tried to go back asleep, and it would normally be quite easy too. The early Saturday sun and Peter gave just the right amount of warmth to keep you comfortable and Peter's scent of old spice and honey put your mind at ease; it even did so last night.

You were sitting on Peter’s bed, both of you trying your headrest to cram as much information into your head before the test on Monday. You both wanted to celebrate Valentine’s day as a weekend-long holiday, meaning no studying, no school talk, and no spidey duties for two whole days.

You weren’t too sure about that last part when you and Peter made the packed during the New Year, but he told you that criminal activity was light during this time of year—almost as if these criminals were swept up by their own romance that they had to put their illegal activities on hold.

You remember yawning then Peter leaning onto your shoulder, then tipping back a bit so you were laying down. You must have fallen asleep there—and Peter too.

“You and your superstitions.” You chided. “Remember when you would send me that chain mail bullshit, stuff saying that if you don’t send this to ten people you’ll get a visit from a ghost?”

“You could never be too careful. One person said they almost lost a finger.” He defended, but caused you to chuckle more.

“Where did you read that? Reddit?”

“Shut up, you know I regret my reddit phase.” He groaned again, moving a pillow so it would lightly hit your face of your face.

“Rude.” You scoffed and took the pillow and pushed it into Peter’s face.

“Anyways, I was thinking about going around some stores today. I want to get you something special for you.” Peter segued away from the other conversation, hoping you wouldn’t remind him of any other embarrassing stuff, but to be fair he knows some embarrassing things about you too.

“Ohh, that’ll be fun. Just don’t go overboard.” You reminded him. “I don’t need any gifts.”

“Yeah but you got me something.”

“How did you find out?”

“Sensed it.” You glared at him. “Okay, maybe I heard from Harry, who heard from Ned, who heard from Betty, who heard from Mj, who heard from Gwen that you had already gotten my present for me.”

“Ugh, she could never keep a secret.” You mumbled. “And Harry too, like why did he tell you?”

“You don’t keep secrets from your man.” He shrugged.

“Maybe you should buy ’your man’ a valentine’s day gift too then.” You mumbled and Peter laughed briefly.

“Don’t worry I already took care of him.” You opened your mouth to protest but Peter spoke before you. “Don’t act like you didn’t buy valentines gifts for you and your friends.”

“Yeah but they are my friends, not ‘my man’.” You told him. “And besides you're easy to buy for, I knew exactly what you would want. You're my boyfriend after all.” You smiled and kissed him briefly on his chapped lips.

“That’s no pressure.” Peter said sarcastically. And while he played it off as a joke, he felt like shitting his pants.

“I’m going to have a shower and I’m going to steal one of your sweaters to change into.” You rolled out of Peter’s bed and took the first shirt you found; and luckily enough, you remembered about a pair of pants you had left here for when you slept over. You grabbed your stuff then entered his bathroom.

Peter heard the door close before he jumped out of bed, going light headed from the rush but powering through it as he unlocked his phone. He quickly typed in ‘good gifts for your girlfriend’. Responses popped up and Peter looked through all the websites filled with suggestions but none were right.

He didn’t notice the shower turning off and then the curtain opening; when you opened the door to his room, he chucked his phone across the bed.

You raised your eyebrow, “Texting your side piece?” You teased.

“Yeah, Harry’s asking if I’ll spend the night at his.”

You rolled your eyes, “Haha.”

Peter just got out of the bed, heading to the shower himself. “When I’m out do you want to go to the market?”

“Can’t wait.”

An hour later you were both in the market downtown. Peter had a hat on with a pink blush coating his cheeks and nose as the snow fell. His glove clad hand was holding yours as you led the way, looking at all of the items on display. Peter’s other hand was holding his phone, which was open to his camera.

“What do you think of this?” You held up a necklace and showed Peter. “Cute, right?”

“Definitely” He agreed as he kissed your cheek. You moved on to look at another item on display; but before you could notice, Peter moved his phone to take a quick photo of the necklace.

“What about this one.”

And that’s how the rest of the day goes, Peter trailing behind you as you go from store to store, sneakily taking photos as a reminder of what you want, and what could be the best thing to get you for valentine’s day. If you picked it up, there was a photo of the product in his camera roll. 

After the fifth store, Peter started to feel a little pathetic. What good boyfriend leaves finding a valentine’s day gift this late? It’s not that he forgot, he’s the biggest romantic ever; he’s just indecisive. Peter just can’t seem to find the gift--one that truly shows his love.

But after a long day, you got a little tired and needed to go back home. Peter was happy to oblige and drop you off—sure he misses you, but he also needs to buy a gift for the big day.

“I’ll come over tomorrow morning, yeah?” You asked as you climbed through the window, turning back around to see your boyfriend in his spider-man suit—mask now off.

“I’ll make pancakes.” He smiled, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Happy won't be there right?” You asked. “I don’t want to double date with Happy and May.”

“Ew no.” Peter’s face contorted into one of disgust. “Pretty sure she’s staying with him the whole weekend—which I don’t want to think about either.”

“Okay, babe.” You said as you kissed him again. “See you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Peter quickly swung off into the New York sunset. He headed back to the market to pick up something that you liked. He was swinging and swiping on his phone—your voice rang out in his head to stop, but he needed to find the perfect gift.

Once he got close enough, he took off his suit, and thanks to a little device that made his clothes compact—courtesy of Scott—he was able to change into his normal clothes. He practically ran back to the first store you went to.

“Can I help you, sir?” A lady popped out, causing him to slightly jump.

“Uh, yes, actually. I was here earlier today—“

“You're the kid that was following her girlfriend around and taking the photos.” The lady remembered.

Peter’s cheeks flushed as he nodded. “Yes and I was wondering if you still had this?” Peter showed the women the picture of the necklace.

“Ohh, I’m sorry, another man forgot to get his girlfriend a gift and bought it five minutes ago.” She remarked. Peter’s hope got crushed so quickly that he didn’t even notice the women's teasing words. “I’ll tell you what, follow me.”

He waved her hand and Peter quickly followed her as she led him to a different section. “I’m going to assume that you love her and that you just couldn’t decide on a gift and you’re not just a douche boyfriend.”

Peter nodded. “I-I just couldn’t find the right gift and—“

The woman held her hand up. “I don’t need your whole life story, kid.”

“Sorry.” The lady ignored him as she put the key into a lock of a display case and took out a little box. “Woah, I-I love her and all but I’m still in school, I’m not ready to propose.”

“It’s not an engagement ring.” She sighed and opened the box and showed the inside.

Peter's jaw dropped as he looked at it. “How much?”

~~

“Hey Pete!” You yelled as you slammed his apartment door shut, present in hand.

“Hey, love!” Peter smiled as he ran to you. “Happy Valentine’s day!”

He had his arms out ready to hug so you gently put your stuff down and rushed into his arms. He squeezed tightly and held you close, kissing your cheek repeatedly. You mimicked him, holding him like you never will again and running you hand through his hair.

“Love you, Pete. Happy Valentine's day.” You whispered it in his ear, despite being the only ones home. “But I’m starving.”

“Right, this way please, s’il vous plaît.” Peter guided you to the kitchen table that was neatly set with poorly done swan napkins to tie it together.

“Oh merci beaucoup, mon amour.” You said as you sat down.

“I have no idea what you just said but it was so hot.” Peter said as he went into the kitchen, coming back with a pan full of what looked to be heart shaped pancakes. “So sexy.” He shouted. 

“Tu me dégoûte.”

“Did you just call my pancakes disgusting?!” Peter acted offended, pulling his pan away from your plate.

“I called you disgusting, love.”

“Oh well in that case.” He put two pancakes on your plate, when you noticed a pink tint to the pancakes and figured he must have added some red dye.

He put the other two on his plate and then quickly ran back into the kitchen to put the pan in the sink and took off his apron.

“Bone-appitite.” He smiled, grabbing the syrup and drowning his pancakes in them.

“You’re so lucky you took spanish instead of french.” You teased.

“What do you mean? I’m amazing at speaking french.” He said as he ate a big bite of the pancake. “Like cro-sant, oui oui, bag-ect.”

“Okay, Timothee Chalamet.” You chuckled. “Do you want to open gifts after breakfast?”

“Yes. And you are going to love what I got you.” Peter told you, stuffing even more pancakes into his mouth.

You stifled a laugh as you finished up one of your pancakes. “I bet you’ll love my gift more.”

“I doubt it.” Peter said as he finished up his plate, releasing a heavy sigh. “How was the food?”

“Great, five out of five.” You raved. “You should start cooking for May.”

“Please she won’t let me near the stove, I don’t think she even knows I’m cooking for you.” Peter joked. “Anyways, you ready?”

You nodded your head and Peter quickly took your plate and ran back to the kitchen and then to his room, coming back with a gift bag. You both sat on the living room couch, having each other’s gifts in hand. “Do you want to go first?” You asked.

Peter nodded then started tearing the heart gift wrap. His jaw dropped as he saw the box. “You got me the lego Coliseum?!” He shouted, standing up in excitement. “Thank you, oh my god, I’ve been wanting to get this since forever!”

He gave you a huge hug and gave you a kiss—the first of many for today. “It’s no problem.” You told him. “I did have Harry ask around because it was sold out everywhere. I guess everyone wanted to get their boyfriend that set.”

“What boyfriend wouldn’t want this!” Peter was enamored with the gift until he saw yours sitting in your hands. “Open yours.”

He sat back down as you slowly removed the tissue paper, stopping when you saw the small box. You glanced back at Peter who nodded encouragingly. You took the box and then opened it, revealing a stunning necklace with stars and crescent moons in the chain. “It’s beautiful, Pete.”

“I know it’s not the one you picked out-“

“No Pete, this is so much better.” You engulfed Peter in a hug, squeezing tight as you possibly could. You kissed along his face, kissing every freckle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You turned around and gave Peter the necklace. “Put it on.” Peter did as you said and carefully clipped the necklace so it wouldn't get tangled in your hair. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful.” He simply stated. You felt heat rise to your face and kissed him one last time—for now.

“How about we start building that lego coliseum?”

“Oh definitely!”

Peter eyed the jewelry that adored your neck as you cleared the table and made room for the lego set. It truly looked stunning on you, it was almost as beautiful as you—but Peter couldn’t stop thinking about that dream. He couldn’t wait for the day that you see a jewelry box, and inside would be the most gorgeous ring, just waiting for your finger.

But as much as he can’t wait for the future, he’s so happy to sit here, now, with you. Loving your smile, kissing your lips…just being in your presence made him feel the most wonderful things he could ever imagine.

So much better then a dream.

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

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The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin’ just fine.”

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ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[curlynerd]

Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.

[shotosprincess]

BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn’t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

[infectedpaul]

You Matter To Me (Squip/Reader)

You've had your Squip for a bit now and it's been fine for the most part, until he brings up the idea of looking into romantic relationships with others which opens up a lot of wounds you wanted to just bury deep and forget about. But you can't begin the road to recovery without asking why you got there, right?

SO IVE NEVER....WRITTEN AN X READER B4 UGH HJKSAJDASKDJSA esp not for a near dead fandom OH WELL oh well oh well h ignore this my normal followers please please

(warning 4 talks of depression/self degrading talk, its hurt comfort yada yada i need 2 touch grass ik)

ao3 link if u prefer that!!

You weren't made for love, at least, you didn't think so.

For as long as you'd been looking for it, it was always so out of reach. Easily visible, sure. Walking past groups of friends laughing it up on the sidewalks, partners entangled in each other's arms, seemingly trying to make their love known for all. But for you to have any of that for yourself? The heat death of the universe would sooner come, surely.

You'd sort of given up on it. It would be nice, you'd think. To be held, wrapped up in someone's arms, and just to stay there for as long as either of you could want. That cozy, warm feeling of being with someone that you only saw in movies or read about in books. But you had just accepted it wasn't in the cards, so to speak. And you were fine with that.

Well, you told yourself anyway. You knew it was for a deeper reason, though, but that wasn't something you liked to think about too heavily.

It was easier to do that when you didn't have a roommate that could dig into your brain and pry every little detail about them out of you.

When you got your Squip, you didn't know it'd be so adamant about perfecting every little last thing you were. How long or short your hair was styled, if your shoes matched your eyes, how fast or slow you were walking and how too brisk would make you seem like you were constipated but too slow and your likelihood of getting run over by a horse-drawn carriage gone would go up much higher, nevermind that you've never even seen a horse in real life.

What you did know, by now at least was that the Squip was persistent, seeing himself as your guardian angel, a guiding light in your desolate dark world of humanity, ickiness and week old pizza boxes you were too unmotivated to at least move off the bed.

So when his ideal response wasn't given when he proposed seeking out a lovelife, he was...well,

"I'm not sure I understand." His head crooked to the side, puzzled by your surface level indifference, "You're of consenting age, marginally attractive and only slightly under average at socializing. Finding a mate can't be too hard."

His holographic form hummed a soft, near silent buzz, a small imperfection to his otherwise flawless binary makeup. Other than that, and the soft, tinted blue glow around his form, he looked completely human. A little too human, really. Something so real, realer than any CG or video game, but something was just...off, something from the uncanny valley. You hadn't kept him in this form long, you liked to change it up from time to time, maybe to trick yourself into thinking he was someone new, making your brain think you had more friends besides the computer you bought behind a Rack Room.

You didn't look at him though when you responded, too preoccupied with the paper in front of you, decorated with a few characters concocted from your imagination. "I dunno," you shrug, brushing off eraser marks, "Just not my thing, I guess." You could feel his confusion, a bit of gut feeling as his thoughts jumbled in with your own. He was really only in your brain, afterall; the figure behind you sitting on your bed was just something he made up to ease your brain into trusting a new, larger source of perpetually growing information. "But, the purpose of this time in your life is to mate and birth young, is it not?"

You really wished he'd learn to stop talking about you and 'the homo sapien species' like you were a mindless ape made to breed and nothing else.

"Uh, I mean not really. I know that's what everyone around me is doing," Your mind thought back to all the cringey baby announcement videos from kids you knew in high school, "But it's...I guess I'm just not up for it. It's not really for people like me."

He was quiet. Only for a second, before he asked,

"People like you?" Another silence hung in the air. It was a truth you knew he could easily just reach into your brain and find for himself so you kept quiet for a bit longer, waiting for him to start digging. But you didn't feel it, that very familiar sudden ache in the back of your head you got when he went poking around for more things to nag at you about. Just quiet in your room, only the soft buzz and birds tweeting outside your window any solace from the uncomfortable silence you felt.

You shrugged again, and turned to face him, seeing now the muddled and a little concerned look on his face. "You know? The quiet ones, the losers. People like me don't get to be loved. I've just accepted that." You could have said a lot worse, and it seemed like he knew that. You didn't really understand, either. You didn't like yourself, plain and simple.

His concern only seemed to grow, eyebrows furrowing and staring intently at you. You thought for a second, maybe it was anger. It wouldn't be the first time. You were mostly compliant to his (mandatory) suggestions for life improvement, but every once in a while he would propose an idea that you would fight about, like clothes you weren't comfortable wearing for one reason or another. He said he was a learning computer, so he would need your help on things like emotions and comfiness, physical or mental, ruling out whatever the newest trends were. He would be fine afterwards but, he could get pretty huffy about you trying on too skinny-skinny jeans.

But that didn't happen, there wasn't a small but fierce jolt of electricity in your back to stop you from going against 'social programming', as he called it. He just looked at you a bit longer, seemingly turning gears in his head as he tried to process what you're saying.

You gave him a sober smile, trying to still seem indifferent, though for a second you wondered maybe if he was still prying at you, in a different way at least, because if he was, it seemed to be working.

"What? I'm just not that special. You of all people know that, right?" It was almost like you weren't hearing what was coming out of your mouth, that casual self-degradation that almost frightened him. You heard stories from message boards about that, older models of the Squip forcing reprogramming onto the host by breaking down their emotional state with verbal or physical punishment for...just existing, really.

He wasn't really like that though. Yes he could be annoyed when you didn't comply, but you were both good at compromise and treated situations like adults, even if at first you weren't much motivated to treat any situation at all. He informed you while you were looking through those boards that his creators had taken in accounts of previous incidents and built more of a guide to self-improvement than a ball and chain with a backhand. Humans were fragile, he knew that, and it wasn't okay to hurt them just to get a little closer to their goal.

But maybe, did he not think that humans were more than capable of hurting themselves? Their own words used against them, their internal voices bashing against their brains, turning them to mush and making them too scared or unmotivated to build it back up again.

"I just know no one would love some useless, pitiful person...I just kinda got over that a while ago." You almost frightened him with how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. It wasn't intentional, you weren't trying to seek attention or be funny. You just knew there was plenty of other people out there worthy of all that lovey-dovey stuff you thought would be nice but...it's just not meant for you.

There was a knot in his voice as he finally spoke up,

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" The last piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place, but he didn't look satisfied, not that cheeky, self-centered chagrin when things went his way or when he was proven right yet again.

You thought he knew that. You thought from day one he just figured that out and that's why he's been trying so hard to make you into a model citizen or something. "Did you just think you were here to help me pick out clothes in the morning?" You laughed, he seemed to know it was forced.

"Well...y-yes, maybe. I just...I never looked into that possibility of…" He was regaining his composure; this was a side you've never seen of him before. He's always been so astute, robotic and to the point. He's never fumbled over his words or had to give himself a second to figure out what to say next.

"How long has it been like this, Y/N?" His hands were folded neatly on his lap, still looking you dead-on, waiting for you to answer his distressed queuerie with worried patience.

You got up out of your chair, pushing it back and behind you to step away from the table and your drawings. "I dunno," you said, taking a few steps towards the long mirror hung on your wall, "for as long as I can remember, I guess." You looked at your reflection, only tired, dark eyes looking back at you. Even though the edge of the bed was visible in the mirror, your Squip didn't show up in it, another reminder of just how alone you were outside of your head.

"I just started to feel like I didn't belong more and more and...that ate me up so much I just started believing in it. I-I didn't wanna go to school or talk to people or even get up 'cause...well," You turned away from the mirror before you could see the tears you'd been holding back, looking at the more distressed figure in view of you again, "what would anyone be missing, really?" You still smiled, that big smile you both worked so meticulously on making seem not too forced when you had to act excited or just blend into normal social gatherings, but it wavered so easily, like a thin strip of paper about to tear off the nail that barely held it up on the wall.

His eyes widened at the sight of your tears, immediately getting up and briskly walking to stand in front of you, not knowing how to proceed in the moment. He hadn't had to deal with something like this yet and he was troubleshooting to see what was the correct response to a human breakdown.

You looked down, covering your eyes with one hand and clenching the other into a fist, big, strained smile still plastered on your face and trying so hard not to seem more weak than you knew you were. You were nothing. You knew that, you thought he did too. You thought you could just fix things, but how could you do that without getting to the source? You knew you couldn't just sidestep around why you wanted things to get better with humans, but with a computer who could read your brain like the newspaper, you thought maybe you could get around that.

You heard him sigh before a feeling of arms wrapping around you caught you off guard, the Squip entangling you in his grasp and his head resting on yours. It was all simulated, you knew. He had done things such as lightly punch your arm as if to say 'Good job, Sport!' or tap your shoulder to grab your attention without startling you, but this was different. He held onto you for a good couple of seconds, a wave of warmth spreading through your body in an instant. He pet back your hair with one hand, rubbing your back with the other and finally broke the silence in the room.

"Y/N, it- ...it pains me, hearing you speak that way about yourself. You're…" He looked down at you, holding you a bit closer and tightening his grip just a tad. "You're an incredible, talented, wonderful person. You've come so far and you've taught me so much about humans and myself and I just couldn't ask for a better-" He stopped. You knew what he was going to say, a better host, a better human, a better assignment to help and guide and-

"A better friend."

A friend?

He never referred to you or anyone with such a personal or affectionate term. It almost didn't seem real, like you maybe misheard him. Your smile had shattered into a small frown and, with teary-eyes and your voice already cracking, you looked up at him, meeting his almost-heartbroken eyes in an expression that looked so foreign on his normally composed face.

"What?"

He gave a weak smile, trying to be comforting but his fear showing plain as day. You could feel it within you too, a pit in your stomach forming as your chest tightened. You knew it wasn't your anxiety, but his.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N? I think of you as a friend and..." His hand moved off of your back and ran itself up to rest on your shoulder, the other holding your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I want to do all I can to show you that from here on."

You almost couldn't breathe as you looked at him, feeling for the first time that unconditional love you yearned for. You could feel your heart race in your chest, something you knew he could feel too but you were too crushed to say anything. You simply slammed yourself into his chest, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt that made your hands tingle like they fell asleep. His arms enveloped you yet again, the both of you holding onto each other so tight like either of you would fall through the floor if you let go.

You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed for what felt like hours, and, just maybe, you thought you could hear him crying too, but that'd be silly...right?

When you were finally out of tears to cry, you stood there still, simply bathing in each other's presence, the feeling you only saw in others finally yours. And you knew it was only a matter of time before this too was stolen from you, the universe would take back anything from people unworthy but...for right now, you wanted to be a little selfish.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, face still buried in his shirt.

"For?" His head was rested on yours again, holding up your weak and tired form with no effort, just trying to keep you propped up until you were ready to let go.

"I got you to help me but...I can't even let you in like I'm supposed to. But...I want to. I just want help." You pushed yourself off of him, one thought between you and him and his hands meeting yours, the simulated tingle in there again as you held each other's palms in yours and looked at each other with such exhausted eyes and worn-out but so genuine smiles.

He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead, a soft hue of pink blush spreading on your drained and exhausted face.

"I'd love to help, friend."

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup 

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

<<previous // next >>

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[tomdiddlyumptious]

T.H| Thottery

Summary: your doing pottery

Warnings: i guess sexual tension? AND YOUR A WITCHHH- AND A PLANT MOMMY- AND SOULMATES

A/n: its all i could think of when i saw tom in that tank top- and

It was another day in the shop, silence filling the room as you walked around to see the stuff you and tom made, the small store cozy, mostly green and beige everywhere to get a warm mood going.

The room smelled like roses, an incense in your hand as you took your time, slightly bobbing your head to nirvana in the background.

The bell rung letting you know someone was here, you poked your head from the shelves and looked at the door, seeing tom struggle with donuts in his dominant hand while the coffee stood in the other.

“Youre late!” You smiled and he groaned, thanking you when you made your way over to grab the donuts. “Im not late- your just early” he said, watching as you took a donut out and bit into it.

You and tom shared the shop, yes he had dreams of going to be a actor but he wasnt gonna ditch you. Youve both been best friends since he accidentally tripped you and made you cry in 5th grade, which he begged to do your homework as an apology. But there was always a tension when you both grew up, he sent you letters, well check up letters, if you need help on your homework letters, sometimes a hershy bar glued to it.

You told him your okay all the time and to stop wasting time on you, telling him to go feed his dog or clean his room because you knew he always forgot. You sent letters back too, you both didnt call each other because you liked the old ways and he admires that, he liked that you rode on your skateboard just to see him and ask him hows hes doing, he just felt like you are heaven sent.

“Righttt, well i got some crystals” you smiled at him, setting the donuts on the small white table before grabbing the box of crystals. “Y/n you know i dont like that witch stuff!” He glared at you and placed the coffee down next to the donuts.

“But tommy!” You smacked your lips, bending your knees repeatedly like a child. “They’re so beautiful and they mean something! I even got candles and cardsssss!”

He gave you a blank stare, before looking away “fine” “thank youuuu!” You walked over and he sat in his stool infront of the turntable, you made your way over and set the box in his lap, getting on your knees and opening the box.

“Swear that you wont curse me or this has no bad juju” “i just have to clean them first-“ “Y/N!” He groaned “whatttt!” You poked his leg, “stop being mean to me!”

“Im not being mean to you!” He looked down at you, you let out a hmph and got up, snatching the box before taking it into the backroom where your shared stuff went.

“Im sorry y/n!” He said, looking in the direction of the back room but sighed when he didn’t get an answer, instead of saying something again he got up to go back there, seemed like you went to the bathroom because you disappeared. He grabbed a bucket and filled it with water, then he grabbed a thing of clay that was wrapped in saran wrap to keep it fresh and went back to his turn table.

He set the stuff down, putting his foot on to buttom and watching the small circle turn before lifting his white shirt, revealing his abs right before his black tank top came down.

He heard the box of donuts opening which left a smile on his face, quietly walking over and sneaking behind the shelf before throwint his shirt at you, leaving a groan before you looked back at him, shooting him a glare.

“Can you hold that for me?” “You couldve kept it in the back smarty pants” “i guess i didnt want to this time” he shrugged with a smrik, walking off “your shirt stinks!” You lied, making him laugh and shake his head before sitting down and getting to work.

You looked through google trying to find more research about the crystals before tom called you for help. “Y/nnnnn!” “Yes thomas?” You asked, still looking at your phone.

“I need your helppp!” He said, looking down at the awkward clay bowl, a few lumps here and there in it. “Coming!” You stood and made your way over, wheb you peeked your head out you saw him trying to fix it.

His hair fluffy so his curles hanged over his head, his fingers painted with clay as he gently rubbed the bowl trying to flatten it out.

“What happened?” You asked and he sighed, shrugging “it just isnt working” “it’s probably like that because you didnt put on your lucky apron” you chuckled, grabbbing the both yours and his aprons next to the large green plant.

A loud groan left his lips as his shoulders slumped and rested his eblow on his knee, setting his cheek on his knuckles as he looked at you walking over. “Dont bring any bad spirits in here tom”

“Hey! Im not trying to!” He playfully rolled his eyes, you handed him his apron, small spidermans on it while yours had my little ponys.

“Alrightttt” you muttered, telling him to move his hand, when he did you sat on the leg nearest to you and he instantly wrapped his hand around your waist, watching as you dipped your hands in the water. “Its your turn to wash the aprons” you muttered, he let out a hum and a small laugh before you stepped on the button, letting the water drip from your hands and onto the clay.

“Can you make a heart in the middle?” He whispered, rubbing your side as he watched your hands work. “Whos it for?” You laughed and he shrugged “you” “me?” Your eyebrows furrowed and he squeezed your waist tight “yeah, why not?”

“Uh- i dont know?” You shrugged a bit, stuttering. Trying your hardest to focus but you messed up, a sigh leaving both of your lips as you had to restart.

You put the clay back in a glob, putting your hands around making it tall, a cough left toms lips as he looked away, while you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Y/n fix it” he asked. “I dont know...i kinda like it like this” you said, placing a hand on his knee.

“It looks like a penis” and with that you laughed “no seriously fix itttt!” “Okay okay, only if you let me do a reading on you”

“Y/n i dont like witchery” “but you like harry potter?” “I-its different” “fineee, i only wanted to know what your love life is looking like” you muttered and toms ears perked up. “You can find that out?” “Yeah, but you dont want to soooo-“

“Okay okay! Just fix please!” He lifted the knee that you were sitting on and rubbed your side letting you know he was ready. You chuckled and got to work.

About 5 minutes later you asked for toms hands, he gave them to you willingly and you sat all the way in his lap, tugging his hands forward his head was right in your neck, heavy breathing on your neck as you could help but get a little goosebumps on your neck.

You rocked his hands back and forth “mhm, just like that” you muttered “yeah like this?” He teased, “no your fucking up”. “Fuck off” you both laughed, you let his hands go and let him do it on his own.

“Are you ready for the reading?” You asked, tom sitting infront of you nervously and shirtless, both of your hands clean and creation drying in the back.

“I think so” he shrugged, you lit the sage “this is a cleaner okay, calm down. This is to save me and you from getting possessed”

His jaw dropped as he got up, a loud laugh leaving your lips before you told him your kidding. “Dont play like that y/n!”

You set the crystals out, on the end of the both of your ends of the table. “Y/n we arent transporting to another dimension, right?” He asked, looking at the sage and how professional it looks. “Noo we arent, you want the love reading or not”

“Im gonna shut up” he said and you agreed, telling him it would save the whole world. You shuffled the deck before knocking on it, his eyebrows furrowed as he let out that the sage stinks which made you shoot daggers.

“Alright tom” you let out a deep sigh, looking at the card infront of you. He looked at you confused, then looked at the cards.

“The Fool, High priestess, The Lovers, and death reversed” you looked up at him and lifted your eyebrows “are you resisting something?”

He shrugged “what could I possibly be resisting?”

“Im seeing soulmates, mystery and innocence. Maybe uhhhh something from childhood, someone from childhood”

He felt a cold chill, but made it stay hidden.

“Young, im getting young, you’ve probably walked by your soulmate already, had some type of chatting with them, gotten close to them, maybe some type of physical touch?” You mostly talked to yourself, tapping The Fool card before grabbing the deck, two cards flipping out and landing on tom. You reached over and grabbed them, “The World Reversed and The Star, tom you are holding something back and your spirits are giving you hope, they are hoping you are gonna speak up because you are disappointing them”

“Well im not holding anything back!” He said, panicked. “Do you think or feel like youve passed your soulmate?” You asked, he hesitatingly nodded his head. “That you have touched them?” He nodded again, a large smile on your face.

“Im so excited for youuu!” You danced in your chair, tom grinned a bit, “uhm with these card i feel like they ARE spiritual. Thomas” you glared at him. “And lets check the bottom of the deck”

You looked at the bottom and saw “temperance, i getting that after you do this, weight will be lifted off of your shoulders”

“Uhh okay” he awkwardly smiled, shifting in his seat. You looked at all the cards “lets get into looks”

“Im seeing a lot off y/s/c (your skin color), they might have y/e/c, i see they have a bright smile, y/h/c”

“Y/n?” He asked. You looked up at him and furrowed your eyebrows “why does that describe you?” “Describe me...?” You took it all in, going back and furrowing your eyebrows as you thought about what you said.

“Are you my soulmate?” He asked. “How am I supposed to know that? And uh, soulmates doesnt always mean that we like each other, were just connect platonically” “but what if we arent.......platonic soulmates?” He asked, looking at you.

“Why wouldnt we?” You did a panicked laugh. “I dont know” “do you think we are soulmates?” You asked, putting the cards down. “I mean, we get along really well” he looked away from you, you bit your lip.

“So we are soulmates,” “i guess yeah” he shrugged “platonic soulmates-“ “i-i dont think so” he looked at you, “tom what-“ “i dont wanna be platonic soulmates y/n”

Your eyebrows furrowed “do you like me?” You laughed, and he nodded, “i uh always have” he played with his fingers and looked down at his bare chest. “Why did you tell me sooner?”

“Huh?” He looked up at you. “You were obviously stressing for no reason-“ “do you like me too?”

“Yes” you shrugged, you had to. You noticed your love for him when he sent you your fith letter.

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒚/𝒏,

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆-𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 ��𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒈. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒊 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚.

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚.

“And you didnt say anything?” “Well i wasnt into spirits and shit like that when i was 15!” You said to him. “So we love each other. Like not platonically but like” he put his first fingers together. “To fast!” You said, and he laughed standing up and leaning over the table and you did the same, his hand came up to your cheek as yours went to the nape of his neck to play with the hairs, he gently pressed his lips on yours, you giggled against his lips and kissed back.

When you both pulled away you pressed your foreheads together, both laughing and pressing each others lips together again “im like 95 percent sure our spirit guides are high fiving each other right now” you muttered. “Yeah?” He asked, kissing the side of your lips. “Yeah” “mhm” “are they like watching us right now?”

“I dont wanna freak you out” you bit his bottom lip tugging it. “You wont freak me out i promise” “nahhhh”

[imaginationjunkie]

Say the word

Jason Todd x Reader

It’s kinda heartwarming

I tried to control my fast breaths, lifting my head from the crook of Jason’s neck to give him a lazy kiss. Deliriousness coursed through our veins, minds hazy from the aftermath bliss of an intimate climax.

Being apart for weeks for his mission and my conference clearly had one gigantic perk- the mad intense I-missed-you-so-fucking-much sex.

It doesn’t matter if it was the first or the thousandth time, the feeling of his body against mine never failed to weaken my limbs to mush and warm my heart, like it’s soup being heated up on a stove.

A smile split my lips as I tried lifting my naked body up from his chest, and failing. The thick, muscular arms that were tightly wrapped around my waist stopped me from doing so. It made me smile wider and lean down to put my lips on Jason’s.

“You know you’re gonna have to stop doing that right?” I murmured, running my fingers through his dark raven locks. A chaste kiss was placed on my cheek by his smirking lips.

“Hmm? Doing what?”

I leaned down so that our bare chests pressed against each other, lips hovering over his. My whisper was naughty as I answered him.

“Why should I? We both seem to like it so very much,” Jason nuzzled his nose against mine with a mischievous smirk.

“Because if by any chance I get preggers before marriage, my parents will chase you to the ends of the earth and decapitate the crap out of you,” I whispered jokingly, but meant every word. “And then after they’re done with you, they’ll feed me to the demons.”

My ever-so-daring boyfriend’s reply was to lowly chuckle and simply kiss my shoulder. 

Affection came naturally to us now, especially since Jason had been touch starved practically since birth. The first few months of our relationship, I had to have a mental debate every time before touching him; how far I should go with the cuddling, to hold his hand or not, put my legs on his body while cuddling or not...

Unlike his brother Dick, who much to Jason’s irritation loved pulling me into a tight hug every time we met, Jason just wasn’t the affectionate type.

After a few months, I understood how badly he needed to be touched- to be loved, to be comforted. When he got the message that it’s okay to hold me as much as he wants, that there’s finally someone he can lose himself in, someone he can love, he found a way to touch me every spare moment we spent together. Kissing my neck, nuzzling his nose, holding my hips, putting his large hand on the small of my back or around my waist, constantly lifting me onto his lap- the list’s never ending.

“I’m serious, a child out of wedlock is beyond just a sinful taboo in my family,” I booped his nose, leaning my forearms on his chest to hold my upper body up.

Jason pretended to be lost in thought for a while before suddenly rolling our bodies over to our sides, the ridges and sinewy muscles of his defined chest flush against my back. He tucked the messy portion of my hair out of the way before kissing from my neck up to the back of my ear. 

“Well since marriage is out of the question, I’ve no option than to not make my pull out game weak,” his tongue darted out to lick my ear teasingly.

Ignoring the pang that hit my heart at his statement about marriage, I turned to swat his chest teasingly. My lips were unable to hold back a grin at his reference to WAP .

“What? You’re the one who keeps dancing to it every morning,” Jason grinned back at me.

“It’s 4 am, we should sleep,” I shook my head at him, turning to face forward again. Jason and my shared bedroom turned dark as he flicked the dim bedside lamp off, making the glow of moonlight our only source of light.

The warmth from having his arms encased around me brought a serene feeling, making me think about how impossible it’d be to live without Jason Todd. 

“I love you,” he murmured against my neck.

My eyes closed shut, senses overwhelmed with the depth of my feelings.

“I love you,” I whispered back.

I had an amazing life- loving and supporting, albeit sometimes overbearing, parents, a great job, a pretty apartment, and a man I’m certain I’d love and be loved by for the rest of my life. For the entirety of my existence, I’ve had the one thing Jason never did- stability. 

But when it’s meant to be, it’ll always be. 

God, fate or whatever higher force is up there looking over us made sure to let our souls find each other. Cherish each other. 

I knew Jason’s views on marriage and children. It was hard enough for him to indulge himself with something as normal as a committed relationship, that too for two and a half years; but it’d actually be impossible for him to be a husband, a father. He didn’t have a basic job in the least, and thus didn’t think tying the knot and being a family man would be suitable for him. 

Ever since I was a little girl, one of the things I’ve wanted greatly was to be married to the man I loved someday. But for Jason I could give it up. I could give up the hopes of having a ring on my finger and a baby on my belly, because he means more to me than anything ever will.

¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡

*2 months later, New Year’s eve night at the Wayne Manor backyard*

“Damian, those aren’t fireworks, they’re explosives!”

At my alarmed exclaim, Dick quickly snatched the big box from his younger brother’s hands, waddling his finger as if to say ‘no no’.

“They’re fireworks,”  Jason assured from behind. “The kid and I labelled it explosives so Dick doesn’t steal it,”

Dick’s face scrunched up in confusion, “”Why would I steal your fireworks? I’ve better things to do for fu-”

“Miss, the barbecue is ready. Would you like to add the last bit of sauce on top?” The always-polite and everyone’s favorite Alfred smartly interrupted Dick from saying the curse word.

Every time I practically forced my boyfriend, his brothers and father into having a family night, Alfred let me help with the food; and since I suck beyond words at cooking, he always gave me the easy tasks to do.

Now if you’re thinking that prevented me from considering myself as the world’s second Martha Stewart, you’re wrong.

I clapped my hands together in delight, “I’d love to!”

“No she wouldn’t,” Jason, Dick and Tim said at the same time.

I turned to them, perplexed at their concurrent interference. 

Taking note of the unusual shiftiness in the boys’ stances, I raised a brow- “And why is that?”

Out of the three suspicious-looking brothers, Dick replied- “Because there’s only 20 minutes till midnight and you have to help us set the fireworks off!”

Now both my eyebrows rose, and I crossed my arms against my chest.

“So you’re telling me,” I said in slow amusement, dragging the words sarcastically. “That three of the strongest night vigilantes of Gotham, one being a violent nutcase once,” a look was thrown in Jason’s direction, “Needs an ordinary girl to set off fireworks?”

This time Tim responded, “Well you see, we’ve never set them off. None of us has ever had the chance to have a normal new years with fireworks and a countdown,”

“Really?” I deadpanned, voice turning into a shrill by the end of the question, “So have I been planning and working my ass off every new year’s for the past three years to make robots happy?”

Tim realized his mistake, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head before trying to redeem himself. “But we’ve never had a family new years, y’know, with the barbecue and fireworks,”

“Also, you’re nowhere near ordinary,” Jason added in a low voice as he came to stand behind me and kissed my temple. I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness, wrapping an arm around the middle of both the boys’ backs.

Right then Damian piped in, surprising everyone. “Plus you’re not a girl, you’re a woman,” he emphasized on the last word, making Jason scoff with a smirk and everyone else laugh.

It didn’t take long for me to grow on Damian, making him accept and like me. From what I heard from his brothers and Alfred, he didn’t like most people and never went easy on newcomers. I was especially concerned about getting Jason’s family to like me, since he didn’t have much of a good relationship with them and I wanted to change that. In the end everyone ended up accepting me; and gradually even treating me as one of their own. Dick and I were practically best friends.

Despite what he used to say, I knew Jason loved them all like they were his own blood; so I knew that it meant a great deal to him to rekindle his relationships with them.

Bruce Wayne’s voice spoke for the first time that evening, “Good evening, my apologies for the delay,”

An awkward silence took over our so-far cozy night. All of the boys looked other directions, not acknowledging their dad who never bothered to show up to any family days on time. I tried my best to knit the boys together, help them get close and create a bond; and saying that I succeeded wouldn’t be a lie. But the fact that Bruce couldn’t even take one day off from his billionaire/ vigilante duties sort of upset me every time.

Jason scoffed, his mouth opening to say something undoubtedly snarky to his father. But before he had the chance to I stepped on his shoe and gripped his hand tightly, silencing him.

“It’s okay Bruce, at least you made it,” I smiled.

The excruciatingly tense atmosphere was cracked by Dick, “I still need help with the fireworks, anyone up for it?”

“I’ll come!” I was quick to squeak and walk towards him.

“Me too,” Damian grumbled, following me.

Tim was the last one. “Yeah, me as well.”

“Great, so you guys do the fireworks and Jaybird and I will be right back!” Dick clapped his hands together in perky delight, pushing Jason’s back forward as they walked into the manor. From the distance, I saw Jason shrug Dick’s hand off before glaring at him. Again, confusion filled me at their strange behavior tonight.

“What was that about?” I asked Tim.

He smiled, “Nothing, probably just vigilante stuff.”

As the minutes passed by, the new year came nearer and nearer. The three of us successfully managed to set off the first batch of fireworks, looking up at the sky and laughing freely. Even Bruce had a small smile as he took a sip of his drink, looking up and the lit up sky with a hand in his pocket.

When it was about 10 minutes to the clock ticking 12:00 am, worry started to cloud the excitement I was feeling; but Tim and Damian were quick to distract it.

“Now can we do the grand purple one?” Damian gave me a rare pleading look.

“Yeah we can, but where’re Jason and Dick? They’re gonna miss new year’s,” I voiced my concern. 

Right then, my phone started ringing. 

Incoming video call from mom.

I answered, knowing that my parents were calling to say Happy New Year like they did every year. What rendered me surprised after receiving the call was that almost my entire family was on the frame of my mom’ video- two of my aunts, uncles and all the cousins I’m close to. Which are a lot.

I’m a family person, if you couldn’t tell already.

“Hi baby!” My mom grinned.

I grinned back, glee taking over the initial confusion.“Hey y’all! Are you having a New Years party without me?”

One of my younger cousins replied, “Sort of, now show us!”

My brows furrowed, “Show you what?”

A string of ‘oh shit’s sounded from mom’s side, further increasing my confusion.

Out of the blue, Dick intervened from behind me, “The fireworks of course!”

A sudden bang! took us all by surprise, and I looked up to see the huge purple fireworks lighting the dark canvas of the sky up. A wide grin split my lips, along with all the other boys as they whooped at the different shades of purple. It happened to be my favorite color. 

I felt the familiar warmth of Jason’s body against my back before hearing or seeing him. The digital clock on the top corner of my phone read 11:55 pm. Not being able to contain my excitement, I subconsciously shoved my phone to Tim, who was beside me, while my family was still on video. I raised a hand to point at the sky.

“Jay look, it’s all so purple!”

And then something happened. Something I wouldn’t even dream of imagining.

Jason’s larger hand rose to the level of mine, which was still pointing up at the sky. He spread my fingers out so that my hand was displayed open. I turned to look at my boyfriend, not quite understanding his intentions.

His eyes were trained on mine, a golden and purple reflection from the fireworks and balcony lights visible on the glossy blue orbs. 

Our eyes stayed on each other’s as I felt something cold graze the top of my ring finger.

In the background I heard Dick harshly whisper, “Tim, the song!”

I wasn’t dumb. I knew what my boyfriend was holding on top of that finger.

Jason’s lips were an inch away from my ear as he spoke clearly, not a hint of hesitation in his voice, “Just say the word, and I’ll put a ring on you.” 

I couldn’t even look at it as I tried to get over the giant bucket of emotions that was thrown over me. Shock, flabbergast, sheer happiness, disbelief, excitement, a rush of adrenaline. My heart threatened to beat the crap out of my chest.

“Jason,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut as he put his chin on my shoulder, inches from mine. “What. Are. You. Doing??”

He bit his lip, smiling before cryptically answering. “I love you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get married?” I questioned again. “Do you think I’m pregnant? Are you doing this cause-?” my voice was breathy.

Jason smirked, his unoccupied arm going round me from behind to rest on the other side of my waist. “No baby, I don’t. The twenty something negative pregnancy sticks on the bathroom trash sort of made it clear that you aren’t pregnant.”

I couldn’t hold back my own grin from his teasing. For the first time, I turned my head to look at our hands. The sky was phenomenal in the background of them, a swirl of blue, red and purple as Damian and Dick continued setting the fireworks off. Tim was holding my phone up to where Jason and I were standing, undoubtedly showing the scene to my family. Now I knew why they were all gathered together to call me.

“You asked my parents?”

Jay rubbed his nose on my cheek, his smart-assery coming to action as he quoted my words from that night two months ago- “Of course, wouldn’t wanna be chased to the end of the earth and be decapitated the crap out of now, would I?”

The boys all had blinding bright and hopeful grins on their faces; even Damian! Alfred’s expression could only be described with one adjective- delight, and Bruce had an odd smile as he saw the straight-out-of-a-movie scene unfold.

I turned my head to the side to look at Jason again, grin faltering to a small smile.

This time nervousness coated his expression and words as he asked once again, “Will you marry me?“

I heard my mom speak through the phone, “Oh come on, stop torturing the poor boy! Answer already!“

Taking a deep breath, I leaned my head even closer to Jason’s. His blue eyes pierced into mine with their intensity, and my lips touched his as I said the word softly. 

“Yes.”

[ask-rwby-multishipper]

Random truth: what gifts are you getting for the others for the holidays?

Name Randomizer: Pyrrha

Pyrrha: This is something I’ve been working on for a long time actually. Not just coming up with what to get everyone, but getting my outfit together...

Weiss: Wait, what outfit?

Pyrrha, blushing: Huh? Oh, no outfit, nothing.

Everyone: *stares at her*

Pyrrha: Uhm...you’ll have to wait and see until later...

Later...

Pyrrha, bursting into the room wearing a red coat, matching leggings, and winter cap, with a huge red bag over her shoulder: Happy Nondescript Winter Holiday!

Weiss: What the—

Ruby, gasping loudly: IT’S PYRRHA CLAUS!

Pyrrha: That’s right! And I’m here to give all the good boys, girls, and enbies their holiday presents!

Nora: But Pyrrha, you’re already a gift.

Pyrrha, blushing: Shut up and open your present. *hands her a wrapped box*

Nora: Ohh! *tears the box open frantically* No way! *pulls out a pink, yellow, green and maroon varsity jacket* Is...is this...?

Pyrrha, winking at her and opening her festive coat to reveal her own matching jacket: Don’t tell Jaune and Ren yet.

Nora: We finally got team jackets!!! *jumps at Pyrrha and smothers her with a hug* Thank you thank you thank you thank you!

Yang, crossing her arms, looking at Weiss: How come we don’t have team jackets?

Weiss, blushing: Since when is that a thing?

Ruby: I have a sewing machine. Say the word and provide the fabric and I will hyperfixate on it for eight hours straight.

Pyrrha, still with Nora hanging onto her: Speaking of which... *hands Ruby an envelope* For you!

Ruby: Ooooh. *rips open the envelop* A gift card to the fabric store?!

Pyrrha, grinning: For all your fabric needs.

Ruby, beaming: Thanks Pyrrha Claus—

Pyrrha: *cuts her off with a kiss to the forehead*

Ruby, blushing and grinning like a goof: Heheh...yeah...

Weiss, looking up at Pyrrha hopefully: Don’t I get a kis— I mean, a present?

Pyrrha: Of course you do! *hands her a box*

Blake, chuckling: What do you even get a spoiled rich girl as a gift?

Weiss: Hmph! *opens the present* It’s...a framed picture of me and Pyrrha. *shows it to the others: Pyrrha is hugging Weiss from behind, their smiling faces squished together awkwardly* I remember Nora took the picture and I begged her to delete it because I look so awkward.

Pyrrha, smiling bashfully: It’s one of my favorite pictures of you and me together, so...I thought I’d share it.

Weiss: Ohh... *looking at the picture again* We are pretty cute...

Blake: I stand corrected, that’s wholesome as fuck.

Weiss, grinning: Thank you so much, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha, kissing her forehead: Anything for you~

Weiss, blushing: Ohh...

Ruby, hugging her: Preemptive hug before you gay faint.

Weiss: Thank you.

Pyrrha, giggling at them before handing a gift to Blake: For you, Mx. Belladonna.

Blake, opening it to reveal several cat-ear-friendly beanies: Yessss! *puts one on* No more ear squish!

Yang, stars in her eyes: Oh my gods, you’ve got little ear cozies...

Pyrrha, giving Blake a cheek smooch before moving on to Yang: And for you! Well, you and Blake, but more specifically for you.

Yang, taking her gift: Hmm... *opens it to reveal a new Yellow motorcycle helmet, and a black helmet with cat ear spaces* No way! Theirs and hers bike helmets!

Blake, gasping and taking their helmet: No more ear squish!!!

Pyrrha, giggling: Now you two can go for joyrides safely. With proper safety equipment.

Yang, rubbing the back of her neck: You sound like my dad. But my dad’s way more annoying when he says it...

Pyrrha: Helmet hair is kinda hot, though. *shrugs*

Yang: Okay, yeah, I’m sold. Thank you, Pyrrha!

Blake, their helmet already on, their voice muffled: Thanks!

Yang: Your ears.

Pyrrha, smiling and kissing Yang’s cheek: No problem. *turns to Ilia* Your turn!

Ilia, turning pink and rubbing her elbow: Lemme guess, since I’m so gay I probably get, like, a coupon book full of “redeem for one free Pyrrha kiss” vouchers, huh? Not that I’m against that, to be fair...

Pyrrha, shrugging: That’s actually not a bad idea, but actually... *hands her a box* I got you a few other things.

Ilia, opening the box: Woah, this is a lot of stuff.

Pyrrha, smiling proudly: So I remember you talking about how your color changing skin poses some skin care challenges, so I tracked down some reptile-Faunus-friendly body wash and lotion. There’s some vegetarian cookbooks in there, some lesbian flag pins I found for you, and... *leans down toward her* Why give you a coupon book when I’ll kiss you just for asking? *kisses Ilia’s lips* Happy winter holiday~

Ilia, rainbowing: Pyrrha, oh my gods...

Pyrrha, giggling and turning to the next girl: Neon, if you can believe it, you were probably the easiest to shop for. *hands her a gift*

Neon: I must have a pretty recognizable style, huh? *opens her gift* Yes! Light-up cat ear headphones! *puts them on* I am sooo going to ruin my hearing with these. Thank you Pyrrha Claws! *nya~ ;3*

Pyrrha: Cute. *kisses her cheek*

Neon: OwO

Cinder: Did you just “owo” out loud?

Pyrrha: Team CENM, you three need winter clothing. *throws fluffy sweaters to all three of them* As sexy as you all are, if I see even a peek of midriff, collarbone, or upper arm while you’re outside, I will immediately drag you indoors and make you into a blanket burrito.

Emerald: Is that a promise?

Cinder, holding up a far-too-small sweater: I think I got Neo’s. *turns to Neo* Trade?

Neo, already wearing Cinder’s new sweater, which is three sizes too big for her: No 💕

Cinder, glaring: Neo—

Pyrrha, interrupting her with a kiss on the cheek: Happy winter holiday, Cinder!

Cinder, blushing: Oh...

Pyrrha, smiling: And now, Penny and Ciel! Combat skirts and stockings! *throws combat skirts and stockings at them*

Penny, eyes glowing in wonder: Sensational!

Ciel, grinning with a pair of stockings in hand: They’re so soft! Thank you, Pyrrha!

Pyrrha, kissing them both: Of course~ *turns to Coco and Velvet* You’ll never guess.

Coco: I hope you went with the obvious choice.

Velvet: Obvious choice?

Pyrrha, handing bags to Coco: Coffee. And more coffee. Aaannnnd more coffee!

Coco: Caffeeeeeine...

Pyrrha: And for you, Velvet... *hands her a bunny-ear-friendly beanie* No more ear squish!

Velvet: *gasp* It’s so cute!

Blake, pointing at her: Matchies!

Velvet, putting her new beanie on: Matchies!

Pyrrha: And finally, Harriet and Elm! *hands them both boxes*

Harriet, opening her box and grinning: New running shoes!

Pyrrha: Extra durable running shoes, since I know you go through a pair of shoes, like, every week.

Harriet: Finally! Shoes that won’t catch fire if I run too fast!

Elm, opening her present: Ohhh, muscle shirts to show off my muscles!

Pyrrha, grinning: I know you two love going to the gym, after all.

Harriet, hugging her: Thank you, Pyrrha.

Elm: Yeah, thanks, Pyr!

Everyone else: Thanks Pyrrha! *group hugs around Pyrrha*

Pyrrha, sighing happily: Another successful Nondescript Winter Holiday~

[hopeisour4letteredword]

with friends like these

Summary: Apollo gets his wisdom teeth out, and Clay babysits.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

"Apollo, buddy. Buddy. You gotta lie back down."

Apollo blinks owlishly at Clay, swaying in place in the middle of the kitchen. God, Clay would feel better if he at least had the sense to lean against the counter. "But I want coffee."

"No coffee for you," Clay says, forcing himself to be stern despite the dreading anticipation of the way Apollo's expression falls, comically sad. AJ always looks younger than he is, as a big brave twenty-year-old, but the sad little pout while he's out of his mind on painkillers, cheeks swollen from surgery? He looks like he's twelve. Adorable. Clay feels bad for him, he really does—he got his own wisdom teeth out last year and he remembers how much it sucked—but the little baby pout just makes him want to smile. "You'll wind yourself up something good, sunshine."

"It's not that much caffeine," Apollo tries to say, even as he lets Clay catch him by the arm and pull him, stumbling, out of the kitchenette. "An' it would make me feel more awake."

"You don't need to feel more awake, you need to rest."

"But I've got stuff to do," Apollo says, mournfully. Clay manages to wrangle him back over to the couch and nudge him back down onto the cushions. Apollo makes doe eyes up at him while Clay grabs the nearest blanket to wrap around his shoulders. "I gotta work on my readings—"

"It's winter break, you don't have readings."

"But next semester."

"You don't have any advance readings yet. You checked and told me so before the surgery."

"I have to stay ahead," Apollo says. His eyelids droop. "I gotta be good at my classes so I can be a good lawyer."

"You're gonna be a great lawyer. But you aren't a lawyer yet, and you don't have any classes right now, so just take it easy, okay?"

Apollo opens his eyes again to peer back up at Clay. "My mouth hurts."

"I know. Sorry, buddy. Not time for more painkillers yet. You want me to grab you the ice pack again? Get the rest of your shake?"

Apollo nods, still looking glum. Clay dutifully returns to the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer, which he wraps in a kitchen towel, and the rest of Apollo's post-surgery chocolate shake out of the fridge. When he gets back out to the living room, Apollo has toppled over to be horizontal on the couch. Clay puts the necessities down on the coffee table and scoops Apollo's legs up onto the couch so he isn't twisted all funny. The last thing the poor thing needs is unnecessary strain making him uncomfortable. He ruffles Apollo's hair. Apollo leans into the touch. Aww.

"Anything else I can grab you?"

"Can you sit with me? I wanna watch you play games."

"Aw, sure. What do you wanna watch?"

"I dunno. Anything's fine."

"Let's play some Odyssey, then. I'll go grab the Switch."

Apollo brightens, just like Clay thought he would. He always did like playing on Clay's Switch when they were kids. Even for Clay, it's hard not to be transported back to sleepovers, hushed giggles as they tried not to tip Clay's dad off that they were staying up late while they played games under the covers, whenever he picks it back up to replay something. He knows the memories are even more precious to Apollo, who spent so much of his adolescence struggling through foster system bullshit.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, sit tight."

When Clay comes back, Apollo has propped himself up enough to try to drink more of his shake. It dribbles out of his mouth.

"Oh, man. You got a little, uh—"

Apollo looks frustrated. "Did I miss again? I still can't feel my lower lip."

"Yeah, no, it's, um—you're fine, just let me—" Clay grabs a tissue off the box on the coffee table and wipes Apollo's face. "There you go."

"Thanks," Apollo says. He smiles, wobbly but true. "You're the best."

"No problem, sunshine," Clay says, smiling. He moves around the room, getting the Switch hooked up to the port so it will show up on the TV, before he lifts Apollo's upper body out of the way so he can slide onto the couch with him. Apollo's head ends up propped on his thigh. He helps Apollo adjust himself so there's no pressure on his cheeks, and he can easily hold the ice packs in place while seeing the screen. "Here we go."

"Let's-a go," Apollo says, in a terrible Mario impression. Clay barks out a laugh and starts the game.

"Goofball."

They don't get very far into the game before Clay is pretty sure Apollo starts to doze beside him. His breathing evens out and his weight goes limp. That's fine. He's warm and cozy, and Clay likes being someone he feels comfortable enough with to sleep around. If this is helping him feel a little better while he's in pain, Clay's satisfied. It's not like it's a hardship to sit here and play video games and be his pillow.

But the fact that he thinks Apollo's mostly asleep does mean Clay almost gets the shit scared out of him when Apollo says, suddenly, "Clay."

"Jesus!" Clay fumbles a jump and Mario goes plummeting to his doom. Oops.

"Yes, hello, hi. I thought you were napping, buddy. What's up?"

"You know you're my best friend, right?"

"Yeah? Of course."

"You know?" Apollo rolls so he's mostly on his back, looking up at Clay with big, sad doe eyes again. Clay stares back down at him, befuddled. Of course he knows. "Cause I—I know I'm kinda bitchy sometimes—"

"Aw, Apollo—"

"An' I can't help you with your smart science stuff a lot—"

"That's not—"

"An' I get really anxious and you have to babysit me sometimes an' I yell at you for it—"

"Apollo—"

"But you're really important to me and it would suck if you didn't know just 'cause I'm stupid."

"You aren't stupid," Clay says. He ruffles Apollo's hair again. Apollo's eyes slide closed, lips tugging back into the miserable little pout. "I know I'm your best friend. You're plenty nice to me. Just 'cause you're a little prickly when you're stressed doesn't mean you don't make it obvious that you care about people."

Apollo sniffles. Oh, no. Case in point, though.

"And you don't have to worry about not helping me with science stuff," Clay adds. "I know I'm not that helpful with your law stuff, either. You're way better at helping me review than I am at helping you review."

At least that makes Apollo smile a little. "Jus' easier to read formulas off notecards than legal definitions."

"You can say that again." Clay will take astrophysics over civil law any day. "Besides, you're the best hype-man I could hope for. Who else is gonna get me super pumped to go to space even though it scares the piss out of you?"

"It's so high up," Apollo whines, making Clay cackle. He never thinks about fear of heights as an issue with spaceflight until Apollo mentions it. "An' there's the whole vacuum and no air and you're just going in a tin can—"

"Don't talk about my girl Hattie like that, she's perfect."

"An' even Mr. Starbuck is nervous about it."

"And you help Sol get psyched for it too," Clay says. He pats Apollo gently on the shoulder. "Which is exactly what I'm talking about."

Apollo sighs.

"I know we're best friends, sunshine," Clay adds, more gently. "Come on. You think I would agree to live with you if I didn't know you liked me? I bet you could pull some real passive-aggressive roommate pranks if you wanted to."

Apollo huffs out a tiny laugh. "Maybe."

"There we go. We're fine, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Say it with me. We're fine."

"We're fine."

"You're Apollo Justice and you're fine."

"I'm fine!"

"That's my boy." Mario has fallen asleep standing up on-screen. Clay is considering whether or not he should keep playing or encourage Apollo to go take a real nap when Apollo shifts beside him. Clay lifts his arms out of the way on instinct, holding the controller aloft, when Apollo braces himself on shaky arms to turn and crawl the rest of the way over to plop himself down in Clay's lap. "Wh-oa, buddy. Hi there. You want cuddles?"

"Yeah," Apollo mumbles. He drops his head onto Clay's shoulder. Clay carefully shifts his weight and settles down against the back of the couch, letting it take both of their weight. He doesn't think of Apollo as a big guy, because he's not, but geez. A whole adult human does kind of weigh a lot. Good thing Clay's been beefing up for his training. "Are you at the moon yet?"

"Nope. Only at the gardens. It hasn't been that long."

"You're gonna get to the moon someday," Apollo says, with loopy certainty. Clay almost bites down on a grin before he remembers that Apollo can't see him anymore and he can smile as much as he wants, safe from scrutiny. "You're gonna be a kickass astronaut."

"Aw, thanks, bud."

"You're really smart. And good at solving problems."

"Flatterer," Clay says, grin spreading wider. God, he wishes he'd thought to grab his phone and start recording this. Yeah, he does know he's Apollo's best friend and Apollo loves him and all that, but he sure as hell doesn't get this mushy often. It's really cute.

"You deserve it. You're the best friend in the world, Clay," Apollo declares, and promptly passes out on Clay's shoulder.

---

"Anyway," Clay finishes. He knocks back the rest of his mocha. "That's what AJ was like when he got his wisdom teeth out, so like I said. Don't be too embarrassed about it."

Klavier is laughing so hard he's almost crying, a hand slapped over his mouth to muffle the sound of it. Apollo's in the kitchen right now, cooking the three of them brunch. Hopefully the sizzle of frying eggs and sausage covers the sound of Clay's indiscretions out in the living room. Clay's dead meat if it doesn't.

"He never mentioned," Klavier manages to get out, when he finally gets himself under control. "How cute."

"It was pretty great," Clay says, fondly. "But please don't tell him I told you about that. I don't want to die before I make it to the moon, and he will actually kill me for realsies."

"Your secret is safe with me." Klavier props his chin on his hand, grinning. "Has he ever gotten quite so affectionate other times?"

"If he's drunk enough, yeah."

"I'll have to keep it in mind, then."

"S'why I told you," Clay says. He considers the sly, affectionate curl of Klavier's smile for a second before he adds, "But don't bully him too hard afterwards, or you will lose drunk Apollo privileges. Only moderate mortification allowed."

"Would he be taking the privileges away or would you?"

Clay lets his own smile go sharper. He likes Klavier just fine, and he doesn't really believe he'd be that mean to Apollo, but... well, Apollo's Clay's best friend, too. He has obligations if Apollo's boyfriend is an asshole to him. "Fuck around and find out."

"Fair enough, Herr Astronaut," Klavier says. There's a clatter of plates in the kitchen as the sizzling dies down.

"Food's ready!" Apollo hollers. Clay casts Klavier a glance; Klavier mimes zipping his lips, winking. They both push away from the table to wander into the kitchen. Apollo bustles around fixing a plate of food, a pile of hashbrowns and sausage and eggs. Klavier creeps up behind him and puts his hands over Apollo's hips. Apollo startles, almost knocking him away. His cheeks go pink.

"What do you think you're doing? Clay's literally right there."

"Don't mind me," Clay says, cheerfully. He loves having ammunition to give Apollo hell over later.

"I think he already has an inkling that we're dating, Liebling," Klavier murmurs. He leans down to kiss the top of Apollo's head. Apollo gently elbows him in the gut, pushing Klavier away as his cheeks go even redder.

"Yeah, and he's already insufferable enough about it without you hanging off me in front of him. Come on, back off."

Klavier obligingly steps back. He and Clay begin to fix their own plates. Hovering nearby, Apollo asks, suspiciously, "What were you two gossiping about out there, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Clay says. He smiles sweetly when Apollo narrows his eyes at him. "By the way, AJ?"

"What?"

"You're the best friend in the world."

[hatake-no-sharingan]

Time travel AU (Part 1: The lady with the flowers)

AU Summary: The world is falling apart, and the Sage of the Six Paths sends Naruto back in time to find his parents and collect the thing that will help him and Sasuke save the shinobi. 

Part 1 Summary: Naruto arrives in the Konoha he was born and finds Y/N struggling to keep her plants alive. He's drawn to helping her, and later discovers she’s exactly the person he was looking for.

Characters in part 1: Y/N (as Naruto’s mom/ Minato’s wife), Minato and Naruto

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you @itsao-mine for requesting this, and I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, I hope the full story is worth it. I’m thinking it’ll be like 2 or 3 parts long. I had to change a bit your request, but I still hope you like it. Remember my ask box is always open! Keep requesting stuff and being kind<3

The lady with the flowers

“Could you try not dying for once?” Y/N pleaded to what could’ve been a jasmine plant, had she actually known how to properly do gardening. She wiped her brow tired, and accidentally smeared a bit of dirt on her forehead.

It was a peaceful autumn afternoon, Konoha hadn’t looked as pretty in a long time. The war had taken a lot from the village, but it had been slowly repairing itself. Now villagers strolled down the streets again chattering about the nice weather, new businesses opened, children ran everywhere, and finally shinobi had gotten a much deserved break.

A sunset colored house stood small in the middle of Konoha, where Y/N fought, on the losing side, to keep her plants alive.

“Maaa, how am I going to take care of a child if I can’t even grow a flower?” She complained to herself as she started clearing  the mess she had made between the dirt, fallen leaves and plant food.

“You should maybe try feeding them less. Yaknow? Overfeeding plants is actually a thing, and it could kill them. And I just saw a nice spot over here where you could try moving them, they’ll get more sunshine at the right times of the day. They’re getting the strongest light for a short amount of time and it’s killing them. It’s better to have them exposed longer but where the heat isn’t as strong. Yaknow?”

Y/N looked up to see a smiling blond boy, scratching the back of his head and examining the front part of her house.

“Right there, you see?” He pointed to a small corner.

“Will that stop them from dying?” Y/N asked excited.

“Yes! I’m not an expert, but I kinda know my way around plants. I’ll help you move them.”

She stood up and as she turned towards the boy, he saw she was heavily pregnant. It was only a matter of days before she gave birth. Her skin was glowing in the same way roses glisten when they’re covered in morning dew.

“Oh you might want to sit down while I move them. Don’t worry.” He said embarrassed at the realization. She needed his help more than he’d initially thought. He was glad he’d bumped into her, though he had to hurry because he was still on time constraint and the world depended on it.

Y/N sat down thankful on the entrance steps while the boy skillfully arranged the plants.

“Well that was the last one, hopefully they’ll live now” he announced

“Thank you. It’s a bit frustrating, I’m used to doing things by myself, and it’s weird that in this state I need more help than I would admit to. Heheh. It was very nice of you to do it.”

“Well, I’m glad I was here, but I have to get going because I’m on an important mission here, lady, and there are some people I need to find.”

“Wait a second, you’re hurt.” Y/N said, noticing for the first time that the boy was bleeding badly from several cuts across his body, his clothes were torn and ripped, revealing multiple bruises and he had a bit of a limp on his left ankle. “Come inside, let me at least disinfect your wounds and put some bandages on you.

“Naaah, It’s fine, I’ve seen worse.” He said trying to act cool, stretching his arms over his head. Which y/n noticed was obviously a painful motion.

“Nonesense, I bet you can spare a few moments. I’m a Kunoichi myself, and I know you’ll be able to complete your mission more effectively with some pain out of your way. Come on, I’ll fix you something to eat too.”

The last part caught the blond kid’s attention, and he hastily agreed. Surely the end of the world could give him a few minutes right? Plus the sage of the six paths had sent him a week before the incident, so he’d have enough time to look for them, and the lady was right, he was good at handling pain, but he’d be way more effective if at least some of it was reduced, giving his body time to heal.

The house’s interior matched the warmth that emanated from the exterior. It was homely, colorful, and cozy, exactly the kind of house he’d always dreamed of growing up in.

Y/N led him to the kitchen, where an amazing smell told him something good was cooking.

“You’re making ramen?! It’s my favorite meal!”

“Well, I’m trying to” she giggled kindly “It’s not as good as Ichiraku’s but my husband likes it.”

He was pleasantly surprised that his favorite food place already existed when he was born, but he didn’t remark on it. Instead he told her how excited he was to try her cooking.

“Sit here. Let me just get the first aid kit and I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

She returned holding a few bandages, some medicine and a pair of scissors. The boy let himself be treated. Her touch was gentle, and it had a hint of worry, almost as if she was scared something would hurt the kid, but she was very effective with her movements. The boy found himself wishing his mom would be as kind as the young woman in front of him, and knew that the baby she was carrying was going to be a lucky one for having her as a mother.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Have you picked a name?”

“I’m having a boy! Isn’t that sweet? My husband picked the name. It’s a bit odd but I love it!” She flashed him a big smile, clearly proud “his name will be Naruto.”

“You’re naming your kid Naruto? No way! I’m Naruto too! I thought I was the only Naruto in Konoha! It’s amazing to find out that someone else wants to name their child like me. Did you also pick the name because of Ero-Sennin’s novel? Are you also a fan of his writing? Oh. Oh. We’re in the past, right maybe you even know my parents. Oh right! I’m supposed to be looking for them. Could you help me? Their names are Minato Namikaze and Y/N Uzumaki. My dad’s the hokage, you surely know who he is right?”

Y/N dropped the medicine bottle she was holding. She stared at the person in front of her as if he were a ghost. He looked about 16-17 years old, it was impossible he was here.

“W-what?” She managed to ask

In that moment, the front door opened and

“Baby I’m home! How are my two sweet angels? You won’t imagine the day I just had, I’m so glad I could finally return to you-“ Minato stopped when he entered the kitchen and saw Naruto in there with his wife. “Oh, hi, I didn’t realize we had a visit. I’m Minato, Y/N’s husband. Are you staying for dinner?” He turned to Y/N, but was met with her shocked expression.

“Is something wrong my love?”

Naruto spoke then.

“Well, I guess I’ve accidentally completed the first part of my mission. I’m sorry for saying this out of the blue but, I’m your son.”

PART TWO HERE

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Seventeen)

Summary: A special anniversary of (Y/N) and Loki’s is fast approaching and after struggling to find her boyfriend the perfect gift, (Y/N) finally decides to do something life-changing for their special evening.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This chapter has so much fluff, so I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen February 9th, 2016 Brooklyn, New York City (Previous Chapter)

Before her life as an Avenger, (Y/N) had never cared much for shopping. All of the money she earned as a trainee librarian was budgeted out for rent, bills and groceries and if there was somehow money left over after all of that, it all went to purchasing secondhand books for her growing collection. She simply didn’t have the luxury to go shopping for things she knew she didn’t need, but that all changed when she joined the Avengers. Since she was earning more money and not paying any bills, she decided to divide her salary into three sections; one section went into a savings account, the second went towards various organizations and charities, and the third she kept to spend however she liked. Independent shops and small businesses were her favorite places to visit, and it was at one such shop that (Y/N) decided to purchase her anniversary gift for Loki; the couple had decided to celebrate the anniversary of when they first met instead of when they’d finally become a couple, much to the bewilderment of their teammates.

“You know, doll, I’m still a little confused as to why you brought me along and not one of the others.” Bucky remarked, glancing around the cozy boutique with a raised brow. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you or anything, but…well, the Winter Soldier and shopping are two things that don’t really go together.”

(Y/N) gave him a good-natured shrug and began browsing. “Bucky, I asked you to come with me because you’re an incredibly perceptive person; you tend to see things that others might miss, and you have an uncanny ability to read people. And if I’m going to find the perfect anniversary gift for Loki before the 20th, then you’re one of the best to ask for a little help.”

“And you brought Tic-Tac along because…?”

They both glanced over at Scott, who was currently reading the dust-jacket of a magic trick how-to book across the boutique. “He wanted to hang out with us before flying back to San Francisco tomorrow.” Bucky shot her a look. “What?”

“Don’t you think Lang’s a little bit…annoying?”

“Not any more annoying than the rest of my teammates.” She playfully retorted and when he scoffed, she elaborated. “Apparently, you forgot the time when you and Clint scared the hell out of me by dropping down from the ceiling vent in my suite. That was my fourth day as an Avenger, if I remember correctly.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Okay, you’ve got a point there, but-”

“Hey, check out this book, guys!” Scott hurried over to them with a wide grin on his face. “Slight-of-hand magic tricks! I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that; I mean, it’s not real magic like your Light Elf kind, (Y/N), but I-” He winced and lowered his voice to a stage-whisper. “Sorry, that was kinda loud! You guys should really check this stuff out, though, c’mon!”

(Y/N) met the super soldier’s ‘I-told-you-so’ expression and gave her head a small shake before adjusting her glasses and following after Scott. “I swear, it’s like I’m surrounded by children…”

The trio spent the afternoon scouring shop after shop for the perfect anniversary gift but nothing stood out to them. Sensing her growing desperation, Bucky suggested they take a break at the nearest coffee shop and brainstorm a new plan.

“How is this so difficult?” (Y/N) groaned in frustration, resting her head in her hands as she stared dejectedly at her half-empty cup of hot chocolate. “I know Loki better than anyone else on the planet. Shouldn’t that make it easier for me to get him a gift?”

In her peripheral vision, she saw Bucky and Scott exchange matching looks of apprehension before Bucky replied, “Well…do you think that maybe you’re overthinking all this?” She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “From what I saw, you didn’t have any problems getting Loki a Christmas present. It was a book, right?”

“A first edition of Gods and Myths of Northern Europe; he’d always joked about all the silly ways Midgardians had interpreted his life, so I thought it would make a fun gift for his first real Christmas. But I can’t get him another book.”

Scott frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I would just be repeating myself, or making myself look like I’m not putting any effort into it.” (Y/N) sighed to herself. “All I want to do is show Loki how much I care about him and I feel like…I feel like nothing I do can ever properly convey that.”

All three of them sat in silence for several long moments until Scott suddenly spoke up. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, (Y/N). You show Loki how much you love him every single day!” Bucky looked over at Scott in surprise while (Y/N) shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m serious! You look at him like he’s the only guy in the world because in your eyes, he is. You know how many people would kill to have someone look at them that way? You’re the reason why a war criminal was able to turn his entire life around and become an Avenger; your love for him is what gave him the strength to believe that he could be a better man. Believe me, Loki knows exactly how much you love him; if you’re still dead-set on doing something special for your anniversary, though, a simple gesture could do a lot more than a superficial gift.”

Bucky let out a low whistle. “I didn’t know you were a goddamn poet, Lang.”

“I’m not a poet, I’m just a guy who spent a while in prison thinking about cheesy stuff like that.” Scott shrugged good-naturedly before turning back to (Y/N). “But you know what I’m trying to say, right?”

(Y/N) nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I think I do, Scott. C’mon, you two, I know exactly where we’ve got to go!”

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

A week later, (Y/N) found herself standing in the tower’s elevator as it journeyed to the top floor, clutching Loki’s wrapped present in one hand as the other nervously fiddled with the skirt of her lilac cocktail dress. She’d picked out his gift with such confidence but when it came down to actually giving it to him…? Well, she might’ve had a small drink of liquid courage to calm her jittery nerves as she was getting ready for their date. Stop overthinking it, (Y/N) chided herself, taking a deep breath just as the elevator stopped and its metal doors slid open. There, with his back facing her, stood Loki; he was dressed in a tailored black suit, and his shaggy black locks were perfectly styled. When he turned around and smiled at her, (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat and she was instantly reminded of the fateful day in the library when they’d first met.

“You look radiant, darling.” Loki took her hand as she stepped out of the elevator and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles before threading his fingers through hers. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite with you.”

“Well, I was training with Thor most of the day and he swiped my only protein bar, so…” Sharing a smile, they walked through the doorway of the ballroom and halted at the top of the stairs as (Y/N) gasped. “Oh, it looks beautiful, Loki!”

The ballroom was dimly lit, illumination primarily coming from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and the candelabra resting on the small table in the middle of the room. The table was gorgeously set for two, with a silver dome covering each plate and an arrangement of lilacs near its center.

“I simply wanted our first anniversary to be both special and unique.” Loki shrugged noncommittally as they made their way down the marble steps, but her praise had caused his pale cheeks to redden slightly; he helped her into her chair before reaching for the silver dome’s handle and grinning. “And now, your favorite meal in all the Nine Realms…” Loki removed the dome with a flourish to reveal a plate laden with a cheeseburger and French fries and a large chocolate milkshake. “A charbroiled hamburger with sharp cheddar cheese and fresh-cut lettuce, a side of air-fried French fries and a homemade chocolate milkshake.”

(Y/N) beamed as he sat down across from her and removed the dome off his own plate. “Our first date at the diner. I seem to recall you thinking that the restaurant was overly-cheesy.”

He flashed her a lopsided grin. “And I still think that, of course, but I cannot deny that the cuisine and the company more than made up for it.”

The meal was more than delicious, and (Y/N) could honestly say that it was the best cheeseburger she’d ever had. As they ate, they talked about some of the novels they’d both recently read; their numerous Avenger duties sometimes meant that they couldn’t talk to one another as often as they wanted to, so it was nice that they were able to spend a quiet evening alone for a change. After they finished eating, (Y/N) and Loki moved to stand by the massive windows and watched the snow fall over the twinkling city skyline; it took a while, but she finally summoned her courage and suggested that they exchange presents.

“Oh Loki,” (Y/N) breathed, her gaze transfixed on the beautiful music box in her hands and the two dancing figures twirling in time to the sweet melody; the two figures were her and Loki, and the music was what was playing when they danced together for the first time at Tony’s charity ball. She looked up at him once the tinkling music faded away and beamed. “It’s beautiful!”

“You like it?” He had a hesitant sort of look on his face. “I wasn’t sure you would…”

Her smile widened. “I love it, sweetheart!” After she pressed a brief kiss to his lips, she carefully set the music box down on the table and grabbed her present to him, walking back to her boyfriend and offering the package to him with slightly-quaking fingers. “Okay, your turn.”

Butterflies erupted in (Y/N)’s stomach as she watched her boyfriend carefully unwrap his gift. Her hands suddenly became clammy and her mouth went dry, and it was if time had slowed down as Loki lifted the lid of the box to reveal a shiny gold ring. He looked back up at her, his expression blank and unreadable, just as she took a shaky deep breath and spoke.

“Before we met, I had a fairly good idea of how my life would go; I’d become a full-time librarian, save up enough money so I could go see the world and maybe even meet someone special, but that didn’t matter to me as much as being able to help others. And then I met you, Loki. You understood me, my thoughts and my passions, better than anyone else in the world; you helped me open my eyes to a whole unknown part of myself and gave me the strength I needed to embrace it. I’m not as skilled at expressing my love as you are, sweetheart, but then I realized that there was no better way of showing how much I love you than…” She gently took the box from his un-moving hands and held the ring as she tearily smiled up at him. “Loki Odinson, I love you with all my heart and I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”

(Y/N)’s heart was hammering in her chest as she stared into his emerald-green eyes, so much so that she was afraid he’d be able to hear it. But her fears melted away the moment Loki’s face broke out into the most dazzling smile she’d ever seen; he reached for her free hand and held it firmly between his own as he choked out, “Yes. Yes, I will!”

Half-laughing and half-crying, (Y/N) surged forward and captured his lips with a passion-filled kiss that was eagerly reciprocated. Loki let go of her hand in order to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her flush against him, tightening his hold when (Y/N) ran a hand through his dark locks. After several blissful moments, she pulled away as he continued pressing kisses along her jawline. “I-I know that it’s unconventional for a woman to propose to a man, even here on Midgard, so I’m sorry if-”

“Sorry?” Loki gave her cheek a final kiss before leaning back just far enough to see her whole face, his eyes filled with unabashed adoration. “(Y/N), you shouldn’t have to apologize for such a beautiful gesture and besides, our relationship is the very definition of ‘unconventional,’ wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose you’re right about that.” She giggled before grabbing his left hand and holding it up. “May I?” Once he gave her a nod, she slipped the ring onto the third finger of his hand and smiled. “It fits! That saves us a trip back to the shop for resizing.”

“It’s stunning, darling. May I give you your ring now?”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “My ring?”

It was Loki’s turn to be nervous; his fingers intertwined with hers and he gave her a sheepish smile before continuing. “Yes, well, I…I asked for one of my mother’s rings when we visited Asgard. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to propose, but…well, it would seem that you beat me to it, my clever love.” He removed his other hand from around her waist and held it palm-up before her; the air above it shimmered with green magic before a velvet ring box materialized. It was already open, revealing a glittering ring set in silver; its center stone looked like a diamond to her and the metal surrounding it was formed into delicate petal shapes, filled with a blend of small diamonds and what she guessed were peridots and purple sapphires. “I can ask my mother for another if you’re not fond of this one, or we can consult a jeweler if you’d prefer something more traditional…”

“It’s perfect, Loki, absolutely perfect.” Sharing a teary smile, (Y/N) held out her hand and allowed Loki to slip the ring onto her finger; she flexed the fingers of her left hand, unused to having something that weighty on her finger, but her smile widened as she admired just how right it looked. Looking up, she cupped his cheek and traced along his cheekbone with her thumb. “I can’t believe I’ll get to be your wife someday.”

“And I can’t believe that I’ll have the honor of being your husband.” Loki ducked his head and captured her lips in another heated kiss; without any warning, he bent down and wrapped his arms around her upper thighs, hoisting her up so that he could angle his face upwards instead of craning his neck down. (Y/N) giggled in surprise and threw her arms around his neck as he grinned into their kiss, losing herself to their passion. When they were forced to separate for air, Loki looked up at her with absolute adoration in his emerald-green eyes. “Darling, would you honor your betrothed with a dance?” (Y/N) nodded, her fingers carding through his mussed hair while he called out, “J.A.R.V.I.S., play Sergeant Barnes’ music playlist, please.”

“Of course, Prince Loki.”

(Y/N)’s brow rose in surprise when she recognized the beginning of Jo Stafford’s ‘You Belong To Me’ as it began playing throughout the ballroom, and Loki’s smile widened. “In preparation for this evening, I asked the others for music recommendations and Barnes was gracious enough to let us use his playlist.”

“Your definition of dancing seems to conflict a little with mine, sweetheart,” She quipped as Loki began slowly swaying them in a tight circle. “You’re not going to put me down, are you?”

Holding her up in one arm with ease, Loki took her hand and intertwined their fingers before resting them against his chest and gently shaking his head. “Never, my darling.”

(Y/N) smiled at that, her eyes drifting closed while she rested her forehead against Loki’s; their noses rubbed up against one another and as they continued their slow rotation, his lips ghosted over the skin of her cheek and she began to wonder if a person could actually die of happiness.

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

Later that night, (Y/N) lounged on Loki’s bed and admired her engagement ring while her fiancé showered, her mind already filled with wedding plans. I’ll bet my entire book collection that Tony’ll try convincing us to let him officiate, (Y/N) thought with a giggle, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling of Loki’s bedroom as she rested her hands on her pajama-clad stomach and let out a content sigh. But while she laid there, her overwhelming happiness was soon replaced with a growing sense of dread as familiar words began to replay in her mind:

“It’s also about controlling your emotions and keeping them in check. Strong ones, like anger or passion, can sometimes be a trigger…”

“Layeia and her forbidden Midgardian lover reigned with an iron fist, executing any who opposed their rule, and gained a small following who worshiped her evil magic…”

“You and your mother are more alike than you realize. The fiery tempers, the forbidden lovers and most importantly, the ambition…”

Along with that, flashes of her ever-present nightmares and the brief snippets of King Tarian’s book crossed her mind, forcing her to repress her horrified gasp. My love for Loki could make me lose control of my magic and become what my mother was, (Y/N) thought as fear began to blossom in the pit of her stomach. But she and Loki had been in love for several months without any sort of problem…and that’s when she remembered all the incidents. Her magical abilities had been triggered by her desire to protect him from a Hydra agent in the library. In an attempt to defend his honor, she’d even attacked Tony and in her rage, nearly destroyed an entire floor of the tower. And while she’d tried reasoning that it had only been inside her head, she’d even physically shocked Loki with her magic back on Asgard and it had been powerful enough for the Frost Giant to feel its stinging pain.

The first thing in the morning I’m going down to the lab to speak with Doctor Cho, she thought to herself as she heard the shower head turn off in the bathroom, and I swear on my Aunt Evelyn that I won’t become the very same evil that my mother was.

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

A/N: Ahhhh they’re engaged!! If anyone was wondering, I took inspiration for that dancing scene from one of Tom Hiddleston’s films called The Deep Blue Sea, you guys should check it out if you haven’t already. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Eighteen-Part One

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[sugar-petals]

BTS Scenario: Taking Care of Them When They Have a Cold

↳ ♡ NOTE ⇁ time for fluff. autumn season is coming, let me set the mood right here, we’re going cozy 🍂

warnings ⚠️ hurt/comfort, brief mention of sexual tension

⌈jimin⌋ ⇢ Jimin’s cold is unusually subtle. In terms of visible signs, it’d take some time to notice it for someone who doesn’t know him or doesn’t check just how heavy another person’s breath is going. But feedback? You will definitely get. Compared to how he’s pouting about it, which will melt your heart is what I’m saying, the symptoms are understated in comparison to the other members. Taehyung’s cough can shatter an entire neighborhood, Jimin sneezing is as graceful as a gazelle. Mind you, his nose is runny, and the slight fatigue of the first two days isn’t negligible, but the major thing to actively mend is more psychological than physical. In other words, his body does its thing, you don’t have to overextend yourself. 

That’s what you have to figure out first to really take care of him properly. After laying him down and bringing both snacks and liquids, talking is what he needs rather than ten thousand types of medications and cool towels all over him. Jimin doesn’t want to see you become sick as well so you don’t sit up close, but at talking range, and you text a lot during the day while you work. He’s worried about not being able to practice and hopes the cold doesn’t show in his appearance. You assure him it takes five days at best and he is okay again and promise a lot of kisses. With that prospect, healing is even sweeter. And, you know the guy, Jimin misses seducing you, so.

⌈taehyung⌋ ⇢ Absolutely enjoys being babied ten times out of ten. Nothing better than you preparing a hot herbal bath. Rosemary, thyme, camomile. The steam spiraling off the water surface looks so relaxing in the candlelight, the classical music you put on sways him into a trance, he lays there for half an hour just motionless. He gets a little tray of coconut cookies on the bed stand, you play the guitar to him, you massage his feet before he sleeps… Which, and he hates admitting it, makes it nice to be sick. By all means not because of the fever, but the extra attentions, the hot chocolate for bed. Taehyung thinks about that twice and concludes something. He doesn’t want to get a cold just to receive this treatment. Not for his own health nor to worry or overwhelm you, he’s not gonna guilt-trip you into being a servant. 

So, you agree for later: It’s good to treat him sporadically just because, whenever and wherever, cue Shakira. That Taehyung so enjoys a good healing and mending time and it just explodes when you both have a reason to, that’s rather something to expand to the whole relationship. Taehyung will do the exact spoiling for you, with a romantic twist the way you know him. It doesn’t need a sickness to resort to doing nice things for your partner. At the end of the day, the body will remember it and get sick again because it sees what it gets through being ill. That’s something to squarely avoid doing, a random gesture is good for its own sake, amen.

⌈yoongi⌋ ⇢ Grumpy, murmuring, disgruntled he can’t work without getting a headache, needs a lot of silence to recover so he curls up on his own with earphones in and fifty playlists on repeat. He’s like tch, only thing I need is tiger balm to whip me back into shape. Or… wait. Wait a second. A cup of steaming hot coffee with extra foam he will not reject. Or a plate of fried rice. Anything fried and super crispy, really. Yoongi likes those things, especially when prepared by you. Nothing is more honoring. Actually? I’ll change the initial statement. Yoongi does accept some help. You simply gotta find out his catnip I mean favorite dishes and either know the place to order it from or have some kitchen basics down. Nothing super fancy though, it doesn’t need a God’s Menu. The right seasoning does the trick already. 

He wants it mega spicy, sweating out the cold is the way to go said Yoongi’s mom back in the day so he goes by that motto. Love starts in the stomach for felines. If another BTS member drops take-out at the door, even better, that uplifts him greatly. When he munches, that’s the most gratifying thing in the world. Yoongi wants you to eat with him by the bed so that means chili in the bedroom but screw it. All that food and you cranking up the heater distracts Yoongi from his cold and some head pats have him on his way to recovery. And, by the way. He’s kinda turned on by you cooking for him so… the frustration is real, you’re gonna fuck like rabbits once he’s okay again.

★ ⌈namjoon⌋ ⇢ The friendly giant will stay in denial about his cough for at least three days and walk around with way too much medicine in his system. He begs for someone to relieve him, mostly himself, but all those sky-high standards are in the way. Responsibility! Hard work and endurance! Solve it in your head! What is the spiritual reason for colds? How many pills keep you awake for an all-nighter to write an album in one go? What’s next on the schedule? So it goes on, you know the deal with Joonie. You have to kick that leader butt so he finally enters the healing cave under the sheets. Don’t kick too hard though, he doesn’t have Jimin-level cushions. He topples over into his sheets fast anyway, he’s that level of exhausted from his own suppression. 

The story goes on, Namjoon feels extremely guilty for getting pampered and still ponders the reasons why he is ill rather than slowing down a minute and closing his laptop for a hot second. It gets a little awkward unless you figure out your secret weapon. What he feels better with is you reading him stories while he rests on the sofa. I’m not kidding. Or if you’re busy or he wants to be alone, audiobooks. That input is like a lullaby to Namjoon who gets knocked out by the soft whispering only to descend into 12 hours of sleep. Ah, he’s namjooning. Yep. His cold will force him into resting, but by the time he recovers, he is six books wiser and has had the pleasure of listening to your voice which he finds soothing. Thankful he is, anticipate an expensive present and flowers.

★ ⌈jungkook⌋ ⇢ Meal and fluid intake: Quantity explosion! Wow, wow, and wow again, the sheer amount that he can snack and turn into what seems even more muscle and more sweetness. Guinness World Record. He knows his system is currently resetting, he wants to hand it the building blocks, he knows the math. Yes, even sick Jungkook is the cutest foodie in the world. Yes, he will eat his veggies. He worries about not being able to work out so you at least help him stretch his legs ever so slightly in bed. He’s missing his boxing gloves like crazy, he wants to see the members in the practice room, he wants his milk. The latter is easy to get for him, and FaceTime comes in handy. 

Namjoon does a little motivational speech, and Jungkook feels better almost instantly. Later on, you have to scold him — well, just a little bit — for getting up in all that enthusiasm to do some of his routine on the second day, but he already knows it’s not good for him to get his heart rate up like that. He patiently snuggles in a cocoon of duvets with only his eyes being visible. Until, finally, his red lil’ nose goes back to normal and his lungs feel a lot lighter. Jungkook really hates being dizzy, so it’s a weight off his hunky shoulders all right. Then, he can join you at the dinner table for a double portion of extra Parmesan Spaghetti, and you settle on the couch to bingewatch romantic animes and any Studio Ghibli movie in history.

★ ⌈jin⌋ ⇢ It simply can’t be helped, he even wants to make this funny. Humor really is a never-ending well, Jin is Spongebob’s long lost cousin if you go by his amount of meme talk. He calls himself Rudolph the Red-Nosed Jindeer, stuffs handkerchiefs into his nostrils, draws smileys on his knees with the cream usually meant for a dry philtrum (he now has very hydrated knees, how about that), does impossible contortions to find the right sleeping or reading position. Honestly, you don’t really have to take much care of him nor worry, Jin will cure himself through laughter. The power of positive emotion. Entertainment is nothing to provide for, he’s a one-man show after all. Jin is the least bored when he’s sick among the group, however! It needs someone else to exchange with, you know. No punchline without an audience. Listening is the best thing. 

Sit, lean back, see what he has to say. The only thing you gotta actively do is stop him from choking on his own spit after a particularly dead-on joke. Maybe it’s introducing some room for serious time that helps Jin enter a different track. I can imagine that. Some talk about memories, talk about sorrows and issues. Jin is a complete man, but he still has plenty of ’em, demons don’t evade handsome people. And those need to be talked through in a silent minute. Jin also enjoys movie nights with a cup of tea in one hand and syrup in the other, that’s the go-to way to unwind. You can finally go all out and pour him his tea, bake for him, serve some self-made popcorn, extra sticky and sweet, oh yum.

★ ⌈hoseok⌋ ⇢ If Jimin and Hobi ever get colds at the same time, this will be the poutiest contest. They’re the most vocal about it in the group. Hoseok, and that will come to surprise you a little, becomes needy. Not at the beginning where he’s confused and emotional about what’s going on with him (someone who works this hard and needs a fully functioning body is thrown out of their lane even by the slightest symptom), but shortly after. You’ll come to understand how sensitive his body is, almost as perceptive as Jungkook’s actually. His body blows up with a strong fever, a hot man heating up even more is just an explosion of physics. 

He needs handkerchiefs, he needs tons of water, he needs music to distract him a little, he needs a heating blanket for his feet once the fever is gone. Granted, every sick person depends on those things, but Hoseok is someone who calls out of the bedroom often because he ran out. He’s not afraid to ask for things unlike Namjoon who would refuse out of overt politeness. You certainly have a lot to do because his cold comes in strong so it’s important you enjoy taking care of him and don’t do it out of obligation. Quality time is what we’re talking about here. It’s not about you doing the things, it’s about the presence. That’s why Hoseok will use his money well and always order proper take-out that’s not just classic fast food, you don’t have to cook or anything.

related: putting bts to sleep after a hard day 

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[lisinfleur]

Santa’s Roots

The request:

Author’s Notes | Some historians claim that Santa Claus’ figure was inspired by Odin. What if it was true? For a certain Modern Viking, it is! Inspired by Harbard’s interaction with young Ivar in the series. I hope you’ll like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern AU, made for Patron’s Holiday Event Words | 1092 ⁑ Warnings: Religious re-readings, unconfirmed comparisons, and sources.

"Why do we have to make this stupid trip?"

Of course, he was annoyed. Even more, because he was planning a trip with Y/N to spend the Christian Christmas in a tropical country enjoying the heat; and now he was forced to drag his limp pained leg through the snow of the Santa Claus Village in Rovaniemi.

Yeah. Lapland.

In the fucking FREEZING FINLAND!

"It's Yule and Christmas and no matter how you look at it, Ivar, it's a family holiday and we'll spend it together."

He loved his beautiful mother, but sometimes that need she had for them to be all together all the time was suffocating. After growing older, he was starting to understand his father's constant trips and to wish Aslaug would do something like fulfilling Sigurd's emptiness and his lack of motherly attention.

But this time, not even Sigurd had escaped that torture. And for the first time, they were both grumpy and moody at the same time.

At least, Y/N had come with him. Sigurd's girl was waiting for him with her family at the beach they had planned to go to together and that trip had forced him to delay. Ubbe as well was grumpy: dating Björn's ex-wife, he saw his hopes to send Torvi's children with Björn that year going down the drain. After all, what kid would want to exchange Santa Claus' village for a trip to the boring Mediterranean with daddy's brand-new chick?

Hvitserk was the only one having fun along with Y/N and the children - the bastard was finding every source of food, candies, and delights through their ways, putting so many smiles on Y/N's face that Ivar was asking all the gods to get his brother fat at the end of that cursed trip. Or at least some good, long and intense diarrhea, so he would have something to laugh at in the middle of all that red, black, gold, and white mess.

"Sorry!" A gods damn dwarf?

Gnome?

Grinch... No. Elf! A gods damn elf stumbled on his crutch, almost taking Ivar's balance, forcing him to stop his already slow steps to straighten the damn titanium braces under the trousers with a loud grunt of anger.

Because of course, his day wasn't doomed enough. No. The pain of that cold shitty place wasn't enough. Nor the elves everywhere, nor the repetitive music, nor the children's noises, fake gift boxes, bells... Not even the irritant bells weren't enough! Someone had to fucking misplace his braces to get him left behind by his whole family...

Kinda his fault: Ivar had walked slower than them all the whole time, trying to get himself distant and leave clear he wasn't happy. Even Y/N had started walking with Hvitserk since his mood was so terrible that not even her was able to hold it this time. He couldn't blame them for avoiding his presence enough not to notice he had to stop...

But where were they after all?

They wouldn't just disappear like that in a matter of minutes.

Ivar had just lowered himself for a moment to straighten the braces... How come they had managed to disappear in the middle of that fucking colored place?

For a moment, Ivar's heart filled with a cold sensation that spread all over this spine. He searched his pockets. Of course, his cellphone hadn't a single bar of signal in that place. His blues ran around searching for his brothers, the noisy children, his mom, Y/N.

And then it was when he realized...

There was no one to be seen.

The noisy children had gone. The elves were gone... Everything was, all of a sudden, silent, except for those bells.

With his crutch, Ivar walked around some steps, trying not to get lost in whatever the fuck was happening around him. But with a few steps forward, as if everything wasn't strange enough, a thick fog started to move around his legs, covering the place, flying ghostly through the gift boxes and colored trees.

Ivar felt the urge to get the heck out of that place. With some effort, he started walking at a quicker pace not observing when the decorations around him started changing from the usual plastic balls and ribbons to colored flowers, painted pine cones, straw animals... His eyes betrayed him, but his ears weren't failing: the bells were becoming higher. And higher...

"I don't know what kind of stupid prank is this! But I don't like it! I didn't pay for this package! I want this to stop right now!" he yelled.

Just to almost lose his balance once again when a horse exhaled behind his back, forcing him to turn around in a quick movement that cost him a grunt of pain, bending Ivar's body over itself when his hand touched the knee of his right leg. The braces had made a loud sound indicating it was a forced movement and now his knee was horribly aching once again.

However, the pain was something usual for him. Unusual was to see Santa Claus not dressed in the traditional red clothes... Unusual was to watch the old man coming down from a horse... Wait. How many legs did that fucking horse have?

And how the fuck did he have a horse? Shouldn't it be reindeers?

And a sled?

"What in..." Ivar started, swallowing dry and lifting his face to see the man in front of him was smiling.

A visible and open smile in the middle of the big and voluminous white beard covering his jaw and cascading down to his belly.

"Hello, Ivar," the man said with a surprisingly cozy voice, causing Ivar's face to twist in a frown of pure surprise, full of wrinkles on his forehead that earned one of the usual laughs from the white-bearded man.

"What the heck?" Ivar said, straightening himself even with pain on his leg. "Who told you my name? And why the fuck are we alone in this place?"

The man continued calm and smiley despite Ivar's clear annoyance.

"I know many names, boy. And I know you, since you were, in fact, a boy," the man said, looking down to Ivar's legs. "They still ache a lot, I can see."

Ivar's frown gained two more wrinkles on his forehead.

"What? Where do you know me? Who are you, man?" he asked, fully annoyed by what he was sure was a ridiculous prank his mother had paid for him to fall on, in the hope he would, somehow, like that trip into the middle of the freezing nowhere.

But the man just laughed once again, touching Ivar with a gentle pat that soon became a heavy hand weighing on Ivar's shoulder, forcing his whole attention to detail he wasn't able to notice before but now was clear like crystal in front of his eyes.

That man... That strange Santa Claus...

He clearly didn't have one of his eyes.

Ivar's blues were somehow attracted into the emptiness of that missing eye. And he swore he could hear the bells stopping, and crows cawing. The fog became stronger, but Ivar couldn't stop looking at that empty hole on that man's face until something formed into the dark.

Something that made Ivar's blues large when the voice of that man sounded once again, rumbling into Ivar's chest like a clap of thunder.

"I know everyone that was and everyone that will be. I'm the one who was and remains. And after you're gone, I'll still be here, until the wolf comes to swallow me whole. But before you go, I can still grant you a gift, son. Let us say you were good this year," the old man joked.

His words filling Ivar's ears while his eyes were locked at the image into that man's empty eye-hole.

"Yggdrasil..." Ivar mumbled.

And his eyes blinked, seeing the whole man once again in front of him, smiling.

"Odin?" he asked.

Receiving nothing but a new pat on his shoulder and once again, the traditional giggle that came along the whole noisy environment around, all at once invading Ivar's ears like a wave of noise and mess once again.

"Ho ho ho... Merry Christmas!"

Standing in front of him was nothing but an actor, fully dressed like the old Santa. Nothing different from the usual along with the fake gift boxes and all the rest Ivar could see when he turned his head, confused, searching for that whole illusion he was thrown into one second ago.

Was that a delirium? Was that somehow real?

"What's wrong, Ivar?" Y/N's voice woke him up and called his attention causing Ivar to once again turn himself too quick to look at her.

Another clang from his braces. Ivar waited for the wave of pain...

But it never came.

"Are your legs ok? Are you in pain, love?" she asked, fully worried.

But Ivar looked shocked down to his legs, feeling nothing. Absolutely no pain. Like one of his best-bones' days...

The days he used to say were gifts from the gods into his life.

"I... I... I think I... I'm fine I just... For a moment..." Ivar gasped with the words.

His eyes were still searching around for that image so vivid of Odin he had seen. He was sure he had seen! It was real!

And he took his pain away for a day...

"You see? The cold is starting to freeze Ivar's brain! Can we go home or at least somewhere warm now?" Sigurd complained.

The kids coming closer to Ubbe with their hands full of candy canes from Hvitserk's bag.

Everyone was so close... They didn't have disappeared.

But Ivar was sure he was the only one who saw that man.

"Are you ok, Ivar?" Y/N asked again and Ivar finally focused his eyes on her.

"I am. I'm just... I think I just need some warm chocolate and we can stay a little longer... For the kids, I mean."

"What?" Sigurd complained immediately. "See? Frozen brains!" he said, pointing Ivar's head.

But Ivar just approached Y/N's, speaking low, almost like a secret.

"Do you believe this thing about... Santa and Odin... Being the same person and stuff?" he asked, causing Y/N to smile.

"Oh, this is why you're so bothered, isn't it? Babe, don't be like this, uh? Some historians say that our Santa is somehow inspired by Odin with his eight-legged horse, granting gifts to his followers and knowing who was acting bad or good along his way. If it makes you feel more comfortable then think about this place as Odin's village!" she joked.

Getting a small curve from Ivar's lips.

"Come, let's get you that hot chocolate, uh?" she said, enlacing his arm with her own and starting to walk at his pace towards the coffee shop Hvitserk was already entering for what? The third time?

Ivar's eyes looked back at that man dressed as Santa Claus, complimenting everyone. His steps showing him his legs weren't aching at all anymore. Whoever it was, Santa Claus, Odin... It had really granted him a gift for that day.

The Santa turned looking at him once again.

And Ivar could swear that one-eyed man winked at him before it was nothing but the actor once again.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" the man yelled.

Santa Claus' Village... Odin's place... It wasn't that bad to make that trip after all.

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[sinner-as-saint]

hundred and three.

Happy Birthday to the love of my life! 

Bucky Barnes x Reader drabble. 

Themes: fluff, smut. 

“what do you wanna do for your birthday?” 

Bucky smiles, and looks down for a moment; chuckling to himself. It’s crazy how some years back, he didn’t have the choice, no one ever asked him what he wanted. But now he can choose. He gets to decide for himself now, and he gets to have a say in what he wants to do, or not. 

“nothing.” he says, softly. 

Maybe he goes for a walk. Just around the city, down the busy streets. He gets himself a coffee as well, because he wants to blend in. Bucky isn’t really familiar with the millions kinds of coffee they have at coffee shops nowadays, so he just orders what you usually get. A double chocolate mocha. And he smiles when he takes his first sip of the warm beverage, you have good taste in coffee he admits. 

He walks around, lazily but not too lazily because there’s people behind him and no one likes a slow walker. Maybe he finds a cozy, old fashioned store and it’s almost nostalgic when he walks in. Maybe he buys himself a little something, because he learnt from you that people should always treat themselves to a little something for their birthday. 

So he buys himself a hat. A beanie, perhaps. Or one of those grandpa hats, like the one he’s wearing at the moment because it’s a little windy out today. On his way out of the store, he gives all his lose change to the homeless man sitting outside on the pavement. And he continues his walk; with his coffee and his little self-bought gift. 

He’s happy, and he can make himself smile now. 

Being alone used to be tormenting, then it became a habit. But now it’s kind of comforting. He has scattered memories of the past century, and he does this thing where he likes to sit at the park and try to connect the dots. But he isn’t too hard on himself, he stops thinking too hard when it gets too much. 

He has a mismatched assortment of memories, sure, but now he is sane. And he’s in control. And he’s Bucky again, he has friends and people he loves and cares about. He’s one of the good guys now. And things are okay. 

He continues his walk after he’s done with his drink. He smirks each time he thinks about how he is a hundred and three now. That’s kinda old, he chuckles to himself. 

He passes by a pet shop, and stops to give the puppies belly rubs. They bark playfully at him, and some even chew on his metal fingers. None of them are scared of him, and he smiles at them. He wants one, or two. And he makes a mental note to bring it up to you later when he gets home. 

He walks away, a small smile on his face as he thinks a little more. ‘What did you do for your hundred and third birthday, Buck?’ Sam would surely ask him that tomorrow when they’d meet up to discuss work stuff. ‘I went for a walk.’ he’d reply and he made himself laugh when he thought about what the look on Sam’s face would be like. 

When satisfied with his alone time, he starts making his way home. Because it’s starting to get dark and he wants to spend the evening with you. On his way home, he stops by the florist just in time before they close for the day. And he buys a few stems of roses; for you because roses make you happy. And seeing you happy makes him happy. And you deserve it because you respect his choices, and you give him his alone time and you accept him for who he is, and who he has been. But mainly because he likes the way your face lights up when someone gives you flowers. 

He makes his way home, and upon entering the kitchen he realizes that maybe you’re not back from running your errands yet. But that’s okay, he’s alright with being alone. You’ll be back soon. 

He places the flowers in a vase on the kitchen table, and he goes into the bedroom to find his journal. He likes to write a lot more now, because now he has happy memories to fill the nearly-full journal with. 

He writes about his day, and his walk. He flips through the pages and his journal is filled with mundane, every day domestic things. He cherishes those moments, given he missed out on them for than half his life. 

He doesn’t write about missions, or fights. Each page is filled with happy memories; like the time he first slow danced with you. Or when he overcame his fear of trains by taking the subway. Or the time you surprised him with tickets to a warm, sunny island in the southern hemisphere. 

Bucky hears you coming in while he’s flipping through the journal. He smiles, and closes it and makes his way to the kitchen to find you. His heart does a little happy dance when he sees the look on your face while you’re admiring the flowers he got you. He walks over and wraps his arms around you from behind, and pushes his face into your hair. 

“Hi.” he whispers, pulling you closer. 

“Hi.” you reply, placing your hands on his arms which are circled around you. “It’s your birthday, you should be the one getting surprises.” 

He mumbles something while he pushes his face into your neck. You giggle and pull away. “I got you something.” 

You got him a large box, wrapped in colorful wrapping paper and a big bow on top. He chuckled at the packaging and began opening it. You knew him well, too well in fact. 

He smiled when he saw all that you had gotten him as gift. A new journal, because the current one is nearly filled. A new grandpa hat, because he loves them. And you two laugh over how he bought himself one as well, guess he’ll just start collecting them now. He looks good in them, you told him. You also got him a new coffee cup, because he always steals yours and he’s been loving coffee in the morning these days. 

You have a chill evening from then on; you order food and you initially decided to just watch TV, eat junk food and call it a night. But then Bucky got handsy. He started out by wanting to cuddle, then his hand slipped past the waist band of your shorts and into your underwear. 

And you give in instantly. You make yourself comfortable on his lap, and kiss him deeply. He gently grabs your hips and pushes you against him even more; moaning shamelessly through the kiss. You teased him for having said he wanted to turn in early for the night. And he scoffs playfully. 

“It’s my birthday, I deserve it.” he’s suddenly very cocky and playful. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, he gives you one of those soft looks, almost pleading but still very cocky. And you know just what he wants. You quickly get on your knees in front of him and pull the waistband of his sweatpants to free his erected cock. 

He smirks and bites his lip when you slowly kiss up and down his cock before taking him into your mouth. His hand instinctively, slowly slide through your hair and he gently guides you as you take him in entirely. 

He bites harder on his lip, brows furrowing as you pleasure him. “Oh, fuck...” he moans, starting out as a quiet whisper but he ended up being loud. And the sound of him moaning sent a pleasant shiver down your body. 

Seeing he started getting louder, and his grip on your hair got tighter; you messed with him a little bit. The moment his cock twitched in your mouth, you stopped. Stood up and straddled him again. He whined just a little. 

“Not fair, doll.” he murmured as you leaned in to kiss his neck, knowing exactly that that was his weakness. He groaned when you gently nibbled on his skin. 

You pulled away and faced him, smirking gently at how flustered he looked; pink swollen lips, flushed face and nothing but passion and lust in his eyes. You didn’t twice before pulling your top off and throwing it to the side. You grabbed his metal hand and placed his palm around your breast, while leaning in just a little. 

“I want you.” his metal hand immediately cupped your breast and gave it a little squeeze. You moaned in his ear at how cold and nice his touch was. And he chuckles to himself and he pushed you down on the couch; climbing on top of you immediately. 

“I want you too.” he whispers in your ear, and he loves how all it takes is his voice and you have goosebumps all over your body. He doesn’t waste any time. He gets rid of your clothes and his, and his hands and mouth are on your body again. 

Maybe he kisses you senselessly before even touching you properly. Or he kisses you to keep you quiet while his fingers slowly pump in and out of you; stroking you gently and making you lose your mind. 

It’s not much longer before he pushed himself inside of you. He knows you want him bad, and he’s just as needy as you are. He can mess with you later, but as of now, he just wants to hear you scream his name. 

And you do - when he’s pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right places. He makes you whine and squirm and scream. Bucky is insatiable, and relentless. He can go on for quite a long while, earning moan after moan out of you. 

Bucky is intense in bed. He has always been. He’s the type to make you look him in the eye while he fucks you like you’re his personal little play thing, but at the same time he’ll tell you how much he loves you. He’ll pound into you mercilessly but he’ll also tell you how lucky he is to have you. That, about him, drove you crazy and had you falling even harder for him each time. 

He finally makes you come undone around him; moaning and screaming and unable to focus on anything else except for how his body moved against yours. Maybe he wouldn’t stop rocking into you even after you came. He knows you’re sensitive and he takes advantage of that. 

He’d push his face into your neck and pant as he chases his own orgasm; pounding into you incessantly. He’d growl and grunt when his thrust gets irregular and he comes after you. 

He stays there, in your embrace, while you lazily play with his hair. “I love you.” He mumbles against your skin. You kiss his shoulder and smile. “I love you more.” And so the bickering about who loves who more goes on for a little bit. 

But then he says you should let him win because it’s his birthday. And you do. 

Some time later, you both clean up your mess and you make your way to the bedroom. And he notices you’re giving him this look. And he points it out. 

“Nothing. Just that, I used to always tell my friends I like older men. I just never thought that I’d date a hundred and three year old man one day.” You giggle as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you. He gets under the covers and pulls you close. 

“Yeah, it’s so gross.” He plays along and you give him an Eskimo kiss. 

“Don’t worry, you’re the hottest hundred and three year old i’ve ever seen.” He laughs when you say that. 

He whispers another ‘I love you’ and you tell him you love him too. 

“Happy Birthday again, baby.” You kiss him goodnight and he drifts off to sleep with his arms wrapped around you. 

[numberonephantompizza1]

Poppy Fanfic: “Ask Her”

For context: This is a fanfic I wrote in order to join the Poppy Milk dev team and show off my writing skills. Since the callout at the time said we’d need to write a lot of sidequests, I wanted to ask the question of what a Poppy-centered side-quest would be like. I got the idea that it would be from an Asker’s perspective, and everything sort of came naturally after that. Even though I’m on the dev team right now, it’s not canon to Omega Timeline: Poppy’s Story and even has some inaccuracies that contradict canon. With that said, please feel free to read the story below the cut.

---

You noticed something very different inside your room when you woke up. The lights were off and the sun hadn’t yet risen, but there was a certain… aura, coming from your door. You were filled with a certain trepidation, but… you approached it. It was hard to see in the light, but it looked… grey. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stepped through...

...and found about the last person you would’ve expected. The spitting image of Frisk - CORE!Frisk, that was, looking up at you, in the middle of a white void.

“Wh- You’re real?!” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I’m real. Have you been taking all this multiverse stuff for granted? Everything is real somewhere,” Core answered, simply. 

“I… I don’t… and you, me…” you panted, starting to feel a small panic attack coming on.

“Focus,” Core snapped their fingers, grounding you back in reality. Okay, this was happening now.

“Let’s get down to business. Simply: you don’t like me. And I don’t like you. But we BOTH like Poppy. Poppy, my dear, sweet angel… has unfortunately recently come to the realization that Askers ALSO exist in the multiverse. And now she wants to do a ‘meet n’ greet’ with one of her fans. Trust me, I TRIED to talk her out of it, but she can be darn persuasive when she wants to be. And as you’re now realizing, that’s where you come in. 

“I wanna make you a deal. You play along with whatever Poppy wants until she gets bored of this. If you’re on your best behavior - and that means, don’t give her anything bad, don’t tell her anything you KNOW she shouldn’t know, don’t use any magic, and be a general good influence - if you play nice, in exchange, I will allow you to hang out with ANY resident of the Omega Timeline. 

“Want to spend a day full of wacky hijinks with a Papyrus, or even an Underswap Sans? Consider it done. Want to know how Deltarune Chapter 2 plays out ahead of time? I know a Susie with your name on it. Whatever you want, so long as you play by the rules, and don’t ask for anyone obviously ridiculous. So… do we have ourselves a deal?”

You contemplated that offer, and everything that was happening, trying to suppress your inner urge to geek out for just a few moments. The Omega Timeline, Poppy, and all the AU’s you could think of and more were real. And you just got an invitation to visit them.

“Yeah, of course!” you nodded excitedly, though your enthusiasm only seemed to make Core more anxious.

“Don’t make me regret this…” Core sighed, as the whiteness seemed to melt away into a cozy-looking house with wooden floors and lime walls, where you were standing directly outside of a white door. Core seemed to have disappeared.

Technically, there was nothing stopping you from exploring. So you did just that. You walked up to a shelf with some family photos. One was a photo of Poppy, Core, Dusted and Rust all together, in some meadow, looking happy. At least, you assumed Dusted and Rust were happy, they didn’t show up well on camera. There was another photo of Poppy alone, looking somewhat younger than she did on the blog, seated on a chair in a photo that looked far more staged. She held an actual poppy flower in her hand and smiled brightly.

You opened the cabinet doors, curious of what knick-knacks you might find in there. Some crayons, a few random glass cups, some art by 3-year-old Poppy that was so poorly done its meaning was hard to decipher, and a locked box. You reached for the box--

“Getting a bit sidetracked, aren’t we?”

You jolted up, and faced Core behind you. Even though they were child-sized, they crossed their arms with the poise and authority of a stern parent. You laughed anxiously. “Ahahaha… ahaha… ha……..”

“...Strike one.” Core said, and vanished. The meaning of that was all-too clear. Deciding not to dilly dally any longer, you went to the room you suspected to be Poppy’s, and knocked. 

“Just a sec!” Poppy said, and opened the door. She looked up at you, and gasped. “Wow, Granpa really did come through…!” She twirled excitedly. “You must be my adoring fan, aren’t you?” she asked.

You stared down at the girl in stunned silence.

“To be honest, I kinda figured you’d be some gray guy with sunglasses, but that’s kinda silly in hindsight. How you doin’?” She asked that last line in a mock accent as you continued to stare.

“Baby,” you said.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you quickly tried to change the subject. “Yeah, it’s… y’know, it’s great to be here…” You clasped your hands together, biting your lip. You were in an Undertale AU, faced with the AU granddaughter of another AU character. You still weren’t entirely over that. Was this fever dream? Fandom heaven, or fandom hell?

“I know! Once I heard you guys weren’t from the Omega Timeline, I realized I hadn’t met even ONE of my fans… even if you guys are super annoying some of the time.” 

“Uhhh, yeah…” you wondered if you should apologize on behalf of the askers who put Poppy in the hospital that one time. Then again, it seemed kind of awkward, and it might have been best not to bring that up while Core was watching, which was always. Looking down at the cutesy girl, it was almost tempting to pull her into a hug, but you managed to keep your composure. 

“I wanted to do something a little more special than just some sorta interview, though, because you ask me questions all the time anyways,” Poppy said. “Granpa said you’ve never been to the Omega Timeline before, so I wanna give you the big tour!” Poppy went to the door. “I’m gonna be outside when you’re ready!” She left the room.

Seeing the empty room in front of you, you were tempted to snoop again, but you’d learned your lesson after last time. You headed straight out after Poppy.

You couldn’t help but gasp in awe of the serenity of the great outdoors as you were beckoned to it. You’d been outside before, obviously, but everything just looked so… nice. The blue sky, the grassy grounds, the ornate buildings… you’ve seen this place in pixel art and a couple drawings before, but seeing it with your own eyes was another story. And the next thing for you to nearly faint at was seeing the Undertale characters running around, Sanses, Undynes, Frisks, even goat moms. 

Poppy smiled. “...It’s nice, isn’t it? I KNEW taking you on a tour was a good idea.” She smirked. “Now remember, just because this is a meet-up doesn’t mean it’s free, and there WILL be a fee at the end of our ride.”

“...Uh… I left my wallet at home,” you said, patting your pockets, “And I don’t have any, uh... ‘G,’ I think. Unless the G stands for ‘Gratitude,’ amiright?” you did finger guns.

“G stands for Gold,” Poppy corrected you bluntly, unamused. She returned to her chipper attitude just as quickly, though. “Now, let me show you around!” She led you down the street. 

Walking with her, seeing so many versions of your favorite characters in the flesh, walking around… well, the temptation to talk to SOME of them was irresistible, Core be damned. You did resolve not to go too far off-track, but you shared some words with the folks you passed by, Poppy thankfully stopping each time you did. You met two Frisks - one boy, one ambiguous - an Underswap Undyne, a human version of Toriel, and surprisingly, a version of Princess Peach.

You and Poppy approached an elegant fountain, stood upon proudly by a statue of a mustachio’d CORE!Frisk. “This is the Timeline Plaza! It’s sort of the local park, where people meet up to do... stuff. Just hang out. Make a picnic. Play ball. All that good park-y stuff, y’know? And there’s stores in all directions, so it’s pretty good.” She proudly showed off her home to you, with a smile.

You talked to more on the way to the next place. An Inverted Fate Papyrus. A weird Ralsei who said his name was “Noyno.” An Asgore wearing a hoodie, who you assumed was swapped with Sans. (Poppy did scold you a little bit for this, telling you that just because someone has a hoodie you shouldn’t assume they’re swapped. You apologized.)

“This is Grillby’s! One of them, anyways. The nearest one to my house. It’s pretty good if you want an OK burger. Sanses love the place, though. It’s… kind of unhealthy. And a little gross.” Poppy said. “Especially when they just drink… raw… ketchup.”

“Can’t handle a little ketchup?” you smiled mischievously. “We drink it by the gallon back in my universe,” you lied.

“...I really hope you’re joking,” Poppy said, alarmed.

“Am I?” you smiled brighter.

“...W-well, we’re not going in there, so you can FORGET about drinking that much ketchup!” Poppy said, afraid of the sheer power of your ketchup-drinking.

You and Poppy moved onto the next spot. You met an Underswap Alphys who seemed to be trapped in a red-and-gold palette. You met a robot dressed as a circus ringmaster, who claimed to be a Chara. You met a Dummy dressed in a Frisk shirt. (You didn’t assume it was swapped with Frisk this time, which turned out to be a mistake, because it was.) Poppy stared at you awkwardly now, wondering why you were talking to all these random strangers. Finally, you and Poppy reached your next destination.

“The theater! Where we show off all the greatest hits! Including MY movie, which, not to brag, but it’s--”

Except, you’d been distracted by a hyperdeath Asriel, and were ignoring Poppy for the moment.

“...” Poppy spoke up. “That’s what I don’t get about you.”

“Huh?” that seemed to wake you up, and you looked at her. 

“Everytime it’s always, ‘have you met Underswap Sans,’ or ‘have you met JangoTale Frisk,’ or some other weird thing. You always ask that. But… they’re just people. Why do you always assume I know some random Sans or Frisk or someone?”

“I…” you were a bit taken aback. “...I don’t… we don’t assume you know them, they’re just… they’re just important.” 

“Important?” She asked. “...I-I mean, yeah, EVERYONE’s important, but, I don’t really get what you mean…”

“They’re all--” You paused, trying to collect your thoughts, think of everything you knew from the blog, and tried to actually talk to her. “...They’re like friends to me. Kinda.”

“...You guys are friends with them? I thought you were stuck in your world…” she frowned.

“No, it’s like-- I’m not ‘friends’ with Underswap Frisk, or-- or Storyshift Frisk, or Shifty or whatever, I’m just friends with… Frisk.”

...Poppy stared at you like you just said the ground was turning to jelly, or something equally bafflingly inane. “...I… think you’re confused. Look, sometimes newcomers struggle with this. Your Frisk isn’t the only Frisk--”

“I know! It’s… You don’t get it. This world, these worlds are so special and creative, and they mean a lot to me. I know we can be really edgy, and I know we ask weird questions about Dusted and Rust, but that’s all because… because...” you paused.

Poppy looked, seeming upset about hearing her siblings mentioned in the context of ‘edgy’ questions, not seeing what you were seeing. Core, standing behind her, holding up a hand signal.

The number two.

You were getting carried away. You overstepped.

“...Um… I’m sorry.” You pulled her into a hug as Core vanished. “There’s really no reason for us to ask those questions. We can just be dumb sometimes.”

“...” She hugged back. “Yeah, it’s okay. I knew you guys were super weird and dumb before I convinced Granpa to let you in here, so I guess I should’ve seen this coming,” Poppy smiled, regaining her confidence as you did your best to not be offended at being called weird and dumb.

“Okay! I think I have just one last stop in mind to cap this tour off on a high note! Literally, hehehe…” She giggled mischievously. This time, you didn’t stop to talk to others, following her directly as you approached a peak overlooking the town. For yet another time, and probably the last, you couldn’t help but ogle at the town’s beauty. “Pretty good, right?” She sat down.

“Ha… with all the climbing, I was worried we’d fall down a mountain,” you joked. Poppy seemed to roll her eyes, as you sat beside her. “...I guess I get how you can call this place home. I mean, once I stop nerding out, anyways. You don’t see stuff like this in my… reality.”

“Just gallons and gallons of ketchup, huh?” she commented. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah.”

And you two just stared into the distance for a while. ...She wasn’t just a character. She was a human being.

...Or, technically just a ‘being,’ scratch the human part. Still, you felt a bit desensitized to all this. And so did she. You related in that way.

“I can’t say you exactly passed with flying colors, but you fulfilled your end of the agreement well enough.”

Without any warning, you were back in a white void with CORE!Frisk, just like before. You almost forgot about the deal you made, what with all the time you spent with Poppy. You stood.

“Uh… yeah. So, my reward…” you drifted off, remembering the offer Core gave you. The chance to meet just about any AU character of your imagining… or at least, any that would be peaceful enough to be in the Omega Timeline. Which still left a WIDE variety of options…

Who did you want to see? What mattered most to you?

...

Thinking deeply… you told Core their name.

“...Oh. Really? Well, I guess it makes sense for you that you’d want to see them,” Core remarked. “I can’t guarantee they’ll give you what you’re looking for, but a deal’s a deal. Let’s head off.”

You and Core went somewhere else.

---

And that’s all she wrote! If you read this far, thank you. Working on the game since then has been fun, and I think you’ll like what we have in store. Until then, ciao.