#I'll just tag whose here right now I guess

[ros-is-writing]

Polyeclipse arranged marriage/mafia au drabble pt1!

Characters: Zam, Mapicc, Ro

Word count: 933

Next

“It’s just gone? Like that??” Zam asked, open mouthed in the politest way he could manage. Outright yelling in a meeting like this was definitely not acceptable, but seriously??

“Our sources are reporting that the Pierce Mafia has collapsed,” the captain repeated, visibly shaking in fear. Across the table, Mapicc whistled and sat back in his chair, impressed. 

Every executive sitting at the table was showing various degrees of the same emotion. Shock. The Pierce Mafia was massive, it took up a whole city while Zam’s family fought over the neighboring city with other groups. Its collapse would create an equally large power vacuum. Which, for obvious reasons, was an opportunity. 

Zam’s mind was already racing, their neighboring city had resources upon resources, they would be powerful beyond imagining if they managed to fill the space at the Pierce family left. But how? Could they just walk in and take power? They didn’t even know how Pierce had collapsed, for all they knew the boss and his executives could still be out there. 

Zam turned to his left, looking for the expression on the Boss's face. To his surprise, she was startlingly calm. Every other executive was deep in thought, eyes flicking back and forth as they imagined different situations, but she just sat there, waiting for their attention to return to her. One by one, the executives look to the Boss, realizing she already had a plan. She slowly lifted her hand, scrubbed her nails with her thumb, then said: 

“Get me in contact with Eclipse.” 

— 

“I still don’t get why we’re working with motherfucking Eclipse,” Mapicc complained as he slid into the back seat of the car. “Aren’t they our number one enemy here?” 

Zam shrugged and pulled his door closed, motioning for Mapicc to do the same. “An enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he quoted, waving his hands around like that made it make sense. 

“Our enemy is fucking dead, no ones seen Pierce in weeks,” Mapicc pointed out. “I don’t think we have a common enemy anymore. I think it’s just us.”

“We don’t have a common enemy but we do have a common goal,” Zam said. “Pierce's city is massive, we can’t control it and our home city ourselves. We’re letting Eclipse take half on the terms that they help us put down any rebellions, and we do the same for them.” 

“That’s what the Boss told me at least,” Zam finished. 

“How though?” Mapicc asked. “How is this agreement with Eclipse working? They’re a bunch of backstabbers, everyone in Eclipse is a backstabber, how do we know they won’t backstab us?” 

“Mapicc, you’re a backstabber, stop talking.” Came Roshambo’s voice from the front seat of the car. 

“Shut the fuck up Ro,” Mapicc complained. “You’re in soldier mode right now, drive the car.” He leaned forward and tugged on a piece of Ro’s hair, making him shout and whip his hair away. 

“Stop doing that! You’re literally pulling my pigtails right now, didn’t know you liked me like that, wow.” 

“You’re deranged.” Mapicc deadpanned with no acknowledgement of Ro violently switching tones. “Also this is a ponytail.” He reached through the hole between the seat and the headrest and pulled Ro’s ponytail though. As he turned back to Zam and started speaking again, he began to braid Ro’s hair. 

“All I’m saying is, what’s in it for Eclipse besides power? They have enough of that, they have so much of that. Too much.”

“Maybe they’re going to take over our city once we spread our resources thin in the Pierce’s territory,” Ro suggested.

“Ro! Shut up!” Mapicc exclaimed, yanking his hair again. “Sorry!” Ro laughed, “I have a point though!” 

“He does have a point actually,” Zam interrupted before Mapicc could jump over the seat and throttle Ro. He wasn’t sure why Mapicc kept up their soldier-executive relationship when they were in public. Mapicc and Ro had been friends since before Zam met them, so it didn't make sense why Mapicc would want the illusion that they weren’t. But anyway- 

“Ro does have a point but, the Pierce’s city is a lot more valuable than ours. Eclipse won’t be satisfied with just our territory in our city, they want their share of the Pierce’s city too.” 

Mapicc and Ro nodded at Zam’s words, they knew he was right. Or rather, they knew that the Boss was right, she told Zam that. 

“The Boss has a plan, remember?” Zam added. “She already has an agreement with Eclipse.” 

“It’s like she knew the Pierce Mafia was going to fall,” Ro mused to the silent car. 

“I don’t think she did…” Zam admitted. “Or if she did, she never told me anything.” 

“She’s creepy,” Mapicc said bluntly. “No offense,” he added, looking at Zam. 

“Not offended,” Zam shrugged. “That’s my sister, I’ve said worse!” All three of them laughed because it was true! Behind the privacy of closed doors and un-bugged rooms, Zam complained a lot about the Boss. He loved her though, nothing could break the bond he had with her sister. She was just so annoyingly cryptic sometimes. 

“But seriously,” Ro brought them back to the conversation. “What does Eclipse value?” Mapicc and Zam went quiet, thinking. Mapicc was right earlier, Eclipse was notoriously full of backstabbers. If you weren’t officially part of the Mafia, you weren’t guaranteed safety. And you most definitely weren’t safe if you were part of an opposing group. 

Maybe that was it though. It was the same as Zam and his sister. 

“Family,” Zam said. “Eclipse values family over everything else.”

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[tellmegoodbye]

Welcome back everyone! This week's themes are Disasters and Nancy & Mateo. I'll admit, this theme was a tough one! I have two songs that reflect on two very disastrous moments in the show. It's a loose interpretation of the word, I know, but the result is now probably my angstiest music monday submission yet. You're welcome. Or I'm sorry.

Thank you as always to @lonestar-s5countdown!

---

Walked Through Hell - Anson Seabra

I guess all the mountains that I moved just weren't enough And all those nights I walked you home From crowded bars when you were drunk Well they meant nothing 'cause you up and walked away And I just wonder what it'd take to make you stay

Cause when you said jump I said how high But when I jumped you said goodbye

I would've walked through hell To find another way I would've laid me down If I knew that you would stay I would've crossed the stars To keep you in my life But now I'm falling hard Without you here tonight

I'm kicking things off with a breakup song. TK and Carlos were both broken in their own ways, but these lyrics are a reflection on Carlos' state of mind in the immediate aftermath. There's a touch of unreliable narrator involved here because obviously TK loves Carlos, but from the perspective of the person whose heart has just been broken, he doesn't. This song really digs into just how much pain something like this causes, and how much healing they had to go through. Much like a recovery from a physical injury, such as Grace hurting her leg or TK taking a bullet to his chest, Carlos' love and trust needed a lot of mending.

Atlantic - Sleep Token

(cw: reference to a suicide attempt)

I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planets Just orbiting the vacuum I am And they talk me through the damage, consequence And how it's a pain they know they don't understand

Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedside I'm trying not to crush into sand So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing Wash away the blood on my hands

This is TK in the aftermath of his overdose. The narrator describes themselves as a vaccum, surrounded by people who love them but can't understand the pain that they're in. TK feels so broken and empty at this point, and even though he lies to Owen and puts on a stoic face. We know he's hurting so much more than he said. We know that this overdose was no accident, that TK felt so lost and unlovable that he had tried to take his own life. He'll go through the motions. He'll move to Austin with his dad and rebuild a firehouse. He'll go back to work and seek out physical comfort from Carlos, but he doesn't heal from something like this overnight. He still feels like he'll never have the kind of future he wants. Love and happiness feel so distant for him right now, nearly an impossiblity. He can't see a way out of the darkness.

Tags!

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos @bonheur-cafe

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @carlos-tk

@paperstorm @guardian-angle22 @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @toomanycupsoftea @reeeallygood @butchreyes

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @reyesstrand + open tag!

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 17

Word Count: 3.2K Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same. Chapter: 17/? A/N: I really hoped I would be able to also write for Speak today, but couldn't finish on time and wanted to post as I had scheduled. If I finish the chapter this week, I'll post it, but y'all will probably have to wait two weeks more 😬😬Anywho, prepare for some feels... you've been warned. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee Follow 😊 -> TikTok • Instagram • Business If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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Chapter 17

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Sam was planning a surprise party for her, especially when Jared had let it slip when she was over at her brother’s home. Accident or not, (Y/N) knew just what had been arranged for her 19th birthday.

“I swear, Sam. I had no idea she was here,” Jared had said.

“Don’t you have supernatural senses, Cameron?” (Y/N) laughed. “You should have known about it.”

“I’m not supposed to be on guard when we’re in the house,” he whined. “This is the place where we’re supposed to be relaxed and unaware. This is our safe space.”

“Technically, you should always be paying attention to your surroundings,” Sam responded. “That’s literally your job.”

“Also, when is she not here, dude?” Paul added with a chuckle. “If she’s not at work, she’s here.”

“I have other friends,” she grumbled, settling on the seat next to Paul. “Speaking of, are they invited to my party?”

“They would be if it weren’t for Paul,” Jared teased. “Can’t trust him not to go off at any given point when there are other people involved.”

“So, it’s only gonna be you guys, Emily and Kim? What a party,” (Y/N) laughed. “What about mom? Is she invited?”

Sam’s face contorted in an uncomfortable scowl. He knew the question would come. The obvious tension that existed between Sam and Allison Uley had been growing for almost a year, and the youngest Uley’s arrival only worked to cement the strain that had grown between mother and son.

“Okay, here’s what we can do,” Sam started. “We’ll have the party at the beach. A nice bonfire in a big open space where everyone can be. Paul will be on his best behavior and if anything happens, we’ll just leave.”

“Why does everything have to be so weird now?” she groaned. “This whole secret keeping just makes things harder.”

“Says the girl whose ex is a literal bloodsucker,” Jared chuckled without thinking. But as soon as he heard the words slip by his tongue, regret painted across his face. “Shit, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s fine, Jared,” she smiled comfortingly. “You’re very right. It’s completely flabbergasting that my ex and his whole family are vampires. But I guess I dodged that bullet.”

After that afternoon, the Uley pack had set to prepare for (Y/N)’s first birthday back at the reservation. Everyone in town was happy to attend the bonfire. It was no secret that the Uley girl was loved around town. Even in her absence, all anyone could sing were high praises for her. So it was no surprise when the RSVPs started rolling in.

Quickly, the small gathering had turned into a party for the whole reservation. People were offering to bring plates of food and appetizers for the crowd that was forming, they offered their grilling and bonfire-making services, swiftly making Sam’s job simply inviting people and setting the time.

And somehow in the four days that were left, a whole town party was being set up. It was a stark contrast to the bonfire that had been set only two months before when the Cullens had left Forks. That one had been a fierce celebration as their ancestral enemies had finally left the land. Now, they were celebrating the life of one of their own — her achievements and her future endeavors. A joyous occasion in honor of a valuable member of their community.

At least, it was meant to be joyous, and (Y/N) knew that. She knew she should have been excited to be amongst her people. The same people that had seen her grow and had grown alongside her. The very people she knew she could count on whenever she might need them. She knew all that.

But it was such a bittersweet moment. She was constantly surrounded by people that loved her, but there was something missing. There was someone missing.

He had come into her life and, in so little time, he flipped it on its feet. He had made her believe that every decision, every moment, every second of her existence had led her to that instance —had led her to him.

And as swiftly as he had barreled into her life, he was fine. He had taken every promise, every declaration, every whisper of love with him. And it had left her with an emptiness that couldn’t be filled by anyone else. (Y/N) could only focus on herself —her career, her friendship, her family. But never again would she focus on love. Not when she knew how it could drastically transform her journey.

“Hi, honey,” her mother said as she peeked into her room. She had been staring at her reflection for what felt like hours, even if she knew it had barely been minutes. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, mom,” she smiled. “So do you.”

Allison had chosen a long dark red dress, her black jacket toning down the color even more. She had braided her hair and had put on makeup, but (Y/N) could see the years on her face. She could see having to raise two children on her own, having to work two jobs to keep the lights on, the pain of losing her son, the knowledge that one day she could lose her daughter as well. It was all the secrets and the hardships that she had gone through, that her family had put her through.

Those were the moments when (Y/N) wanted to tell her everything, every single detail that had derailed her mother’s life without her knowledge. She wanted to confess that she wasn’t alone in her pain, that the hurt she had carried most of her life was shared between each of the Uley family members. Instead, all she could do was remain quiet.

“Are you excited for tonight?”

“For the most part,” (Y/N) admitted. “It might be just a tad overwhelming. Heard through the grapevine that almost the whole rez is gonna be there.”

“You’ve gone to many bonfires, honey,” she chuckled. “What’s different about this one?”

“That I’m the guest of honor, mom,” the girl chuckled softly. “I’m gonna be the center of attention and that feels weird.”

“Well, I’ll be right there next to you, holding your hand.”

“Thanks, mom. I would never be where I am without you.”

Her mother smiled brightly, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “Oh, sweetheart that’s all you,” she said. “You’ve gotten this far because you’re bright and talented, and so hardworking.”

“And because I’ve had a mom that made all of that possible,” (Y/N) added. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, honey, more than you could ever know,” Allison smiled as she released her daughter. “And I have something for you. I wanna do it here, where it’s just you and me.”

The woman reached into her pocket, pulled out a black box, and handed it to her daughter. She followed expectantly every move, excitement filling her. Inside rested a crescent moon pendant that was engraved. As soon as her eyes fell on the necklace, tears formed in the corner of the girl’s eyes.

“Is this your pendant, mom?”

“Yes, honey,” she smiled. “It had been my mother’s, and her mother’s before her, and so on. I have been holding onto it until I felt it was time to pass it down to you. And I think there is no better time than now.”

“Oh, mom, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this necklace,” (Y/N) said. “But I’ve always wondered, what do the markings mean?”

“After hardship comes ease,” her mother responded. “It’s what my mother would always say and I know how much you might need that reassurance now. Hard times pass, my darling. Even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.”

“I know, mom,” the younger Uley breathed, melting into her mother’s touch as Allison placed a comforting hand on her cheek. “I just wish that time came sooner rather than later.”

“Give time to time, (Y/N). We can’t rush things.”

“I know,” she sighed. “And I’m trying. I really am.”

“I’m sure of that, my darling,” Allison said. “But tonight is about you and not about what has happened or has stopped happening. We’re gonna celebrate your birthday and forget these past couple of months. Use tonight as your time to unwind and prepare yourself for what comes next.”

“I will. I just need a couple of minutes to finish getting ready.”

“Alright, honey. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll go down to the beach.”

As soon as her mother was out of the room, (Y/N) went back to perceiving herself. She stared at the bags that had formed under her eyes, the long restless nights evident on her face. Her fingers traced where her cheeks had seemed to hollow after months of terrible eating habits. She gawked at the lost gleam in her eyes, the emptiness that peeked behind her pupils.

She was a completely different girl than the one that had come back to La Push, and in a few months,  she would be another her. There was a (Y/N) before him. There was a (Y/N) during him. And there would now be a (Y/N) after him. Even if she had not planned for it, she would have to do it.

“It’s now or never,” she whispered to herself.

As she left her room, (Y/N) gave herself a once over. She smoothed down her navy-blue dress and put on a jacket. She was determined to put every sad thought, every bad moment to the back of her mind. He would never again be the reason she wouldn’t enjoy life.

Before she could reach the beach, she could hear the whispered commotion. Even if she knew the party was happening, she was still surprised. Where she was expecting a small group of her friends, it seemed like the whole town had come out to celebrate. As soon as she was close enough, everyone turned and yelled, “Surprise!”

Everyone she knew welcomed her with a smile on their face. People came up to her wishing her a happy birthday and telling her how glad they were she was back home. Even Charlie Swan had popped in for a bit, congratulating her and asking if she’d go by to see Bella. They gave her hugs and kisses, wishing her blessings for the coming years. It was the warmth of a community that she had not felt for four years, giving her a feeling of belonging she had no idea she craved.

“I think more people turned up to your birthday than for the last community bonfire,” Paul said as he joined her side and sat on a piece of driftwood.  The party was in full swing already. Plates of food had been passed out, children were playing, teenagers were talking, and the pack was keeping to themselves. “Hope you were still surprised.”

“I was,” (Y/N) smiled. “Didn’t think many people would care. I mean, it’s just my birthday. Not even a huge milestone. Just nineteen.”

“I think you’re underestimating just how much the people here love you. And any year is a milestone in my book,” he offered. “You made it another year. That’s an accomplishment in itself.”

“I also got approved by the board at UW to start taking aptitude tests,” she confessed. “I’ll spend the better part of December and January taking all kinds of exams to be able to slide into the next round of rotations.”

“Holy shit, (Y/N), that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he twirled her in a tight hug. “It’s almost a miracle.”

“I know,” she added. “I don’t know what out there in the universe is looking out for me, but I’m glad it is. I honestly thought it would never happen. But I got the call yesterday afternoon. It’s really happening.”

“Well, they’re lucky to have you. I can’t think of anyone that would be a better doctor than you.”

“You’re just saying that, Paul,” she chuckled. “But I’m thankful for that vote of confidence. I’m just glad things seem to be moving forward. I really thought I’d be stuck in the same place for a while there.”

“I knew you’d make it out eventually,” he smiled. “Also, I got you something. And I promise it’s not sex coupons. I know I can get that for free.”

“You’re about to get those privileges revoked if you keep talking like that,” she laughed in response. “But I’ll grant you that comment because it seems Sam did not hear you.”

Paul laughed loudly, making a few heads snap back toward them. “But it’s something serious,” he continued as he handed her a wrapped box that had been resting by his feet. “It took me a while to get it, but I hope you like it.”

(Y/N) took hold of the box, carefully ripping away the neat wrapping paper —a job she was sure had been done by Emily. Inside the box, in perfect condition and wrapped in plastic, was a first edition of Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. She ran her hands over the cover. She studied the spine. She inspected every single detail of the book, and it was perfect.

“Oh my god, Paul, it’s absolutely beautiful,” she joyfully cried. “But this must have cost you an arm and a leg. You shouldn’t have spent that on me.”

“I wanted to,” he beamed. “I know how much you like books so I asked Kim if she could help me get you something special.”

“It’s more than special, Paul. It’s a one-of-a-kind gift,” she smiled as she engulfed him in a hug. “I love it so much.”

“It’s as special a gift as you are,” he continued. Paul raised his hand to her cheek, tucking behind her ear a loose piece of hair. “Also, you look beautiful tonight. I don’t think I’ve told you that yet.”

“Thanks,” she replied, feeling the unnatural warmth of his skin seep onto hers. “I’m glad you’re here, Paul. And I’m grateful that you’re my friend.”

“For better or worse, (Y/N),” Paul added. “You know I’ll always be by your side.”

“You better mean that, dude. Cause I’ll hold you to it.”

“So will I,” Sam’s voice startled them. “You might be a part of my pack, but that’s my little sister right there.”

“By a couple of months at best, Sammy,” (Y/N) grumbled. “And I can handle myself perfectly. Thank you very much.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t always be looking out for you, (Y/N),” he smiled. “Now, come on. It’s time for cake.” 

The rest of the night went by quickly. They sang her happy birthday, they passed around cake, and they told stories by the fire. The same stories she had heard since she was just a little kid. The same stories that related the lives of the ancestors of their tribe. The same stories she knew were anything but fiction.

One second, she was staring at the figures that were dancing in the fire, showing her the past. The next, she was heading back home, a heap of presents overfilling her arms. “I’m so tired,” (Y/N) whined to her mother. “I could sleep for two weeks if I could.” 

“Unfortunately, you can’t,” Allison chuckled. “But at least you’ve got the rest of this week.”

They laughed in unison, knowing that the least she would do was actually rest. The only time she would probably have a full night’s rest was that night and it would have been out of pure social exhaustion.

But mother and daughter stopped dead in their tracks when they reached the front door of their house. Right in front of the wooden door were three presents elegantly wrapped in silver paper, the same paper she had seen days before her world fell apart. 

“I’m guessing those are for you,” her mother said. “Do you know who could have sent them?” 

“Maybe they’re from the team at the hospital,” (Y/N) thought quickly. “They couldn’t make it tonight because they were pulling double shifts.”

“That was nice of them,” Allison responded, accepting her daughter’s answer. “That wrapping paper is beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” she choked out. “Can you help me bring them up to my room, please?”

“Of course, darling.” The woman took the three boxes under one arm and opened the door before following her daughter up the stairs. “Alright, (Y/N). Well, I’m going to bed because I have an early shift tomorrow and I’m pretty beat. But, happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

“Thanks, mom. Good night.”

“Night, honey.” 

Allison left the room, shutting the door behind her and (Y/N) felt she could finally let go. She felt her blood run cold inside her body, her limbs trembling at the realization of just who had sent those presents. Even though they had ripped themselves from her life, they somehow kept appearing.

With shaking hands, she opened the first gift that was tagged with a note that said From Rosalie. It was a leather notebook, the cover engraved with the words: Dr. (Y/N) Uley. And on the first page, in beautiful calligraphy, she wrote: I may not be the one who sees the future, but I know you have a bright future ahead of you. Love, Rose.

The next one was labeled From The Cullens. It was a small black box that stored a necklace with the Cullen crest engraved onto a circle charm –small and modern. And it was attached to a note that said: Already part of the family.

(Y/N) could feel the warm tears stream down her cheeks. Her lungs ached at the shortness of air, filling as best as they could as she sobbed quietly. She knew the gifts weren’t sent with malice. A high probability that they had been ordered long before everything had gone awry. But it didn’t stop the wrenching of her heart.

There was only one box left and she knew exactly who it was from. She took the long box in her hand, ripping away the paper violently. She was surprised that it had some weight to it, her mind trying to anticipate what could have been inside before she raised the lid.

On a bed of sating rested a silver stethoscope with blue rubber. Engraved on the instrument's bell, in beautiful cursive letters, it read: Dr. Uley-Cullen. In addition, a card that read For our future.

Those couple of words completely broke (Y/N) down. She fell to her knees, feeling as if the weight of the past few months fell upon her. She muffled her shrieks with her pillow, not wanting to alarm her mother.

Suddenly, everything she thought she had started to get over rose to the surface and hollowness filled her core. As the tears kept falling, she could feel the painful hole in her chest grow deeper and deeper.

He had planned a future for them. A future where she was a part of their family. A future where they would take on the world, together. Yet he had thrown it all away in a second, without another thought. Without ever looking back. He had built everything so high to let it all topple down.

He had left her to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and rebuild a life on her own. And that was the only thing she would allow him to have. She would create a life for herself, by herself, and she would prove to him that she was bigger than her heartbreak.

Next ->

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[bite-the-bloody-hand]

@dujour13 very kindly tagged me in the Companion First Impressions tag game! Check out her answers for the magnificent Siavash here.

I have not officially completed the game yet though I've been spoiled on a lot of the ending haaa... so just treat this as Zell's thoughts after your average Azata ending, and I'll come back later once I've gone mad with power.

Tagging @rlainarin Give your KC’s first impression and final opinion of each of their companions!

First Impressions:

Seelah: You seem... charmingly sincere for Iomedae's lot. And I owe you for getting Terendelev so quickly... I guess we'll see how getting out of here goes, yeah?

Camellia: I don't even know you, and already I know it's gonna be you or me. I can smell the old blood under your nails... I wonder whose it is?

Lann: Wow buddy, how'd you get your head so far up your ass with that horn? Impressive.

Wenduag: Normally I don't appreciate strangers telling me what to do, but you aren't nearly as threatening as you think you are… and you're right about Lann being reckless.

Woljif: You've got the air of ehh... talented grifter who blows his winnings like a pimp, no wonder you got nailed. Anyway, want to go scandalize the neighbors with me?

Ember: Little one, I absolutely agree that they were just scared stupid men in a crisis, but you don't want to smack 'em around even a little bit? All right... we do it your way for now. I guess we'll see about next time too. And the time after that...

Daeran: Hnh, you were the single voice of reason back in the square yet play an imbecile party boy in your own home... So what should I know about you, Count? Whatever you're hiding smells like bad blood.

Nenio: Normally I'd be more wary about someone wanting to do 'experiments' on people a goofiness about you that I respect. I want to see where you're going with all this.

Galfrey: I love how you think you're being cute and clever but you have 'I am in a crisis because nobody is acknowledging me' disease and I can smell it from here.

Sosiel: You seem. Nice. I'm sure we'll get along fine, you just remind me of someone I'd rather not be thinking about just now.

Regill: Oh a Godclaw? The Hellknight mental gymnastics champions? Color me intrigued. Don't tell anyone, but I'm glad someone else around here isn't squeamish about making hard decisions in a bad situation.

Arueshalae: Never once have I imagined I'd meet a demon who would change my life for the better, but... strange things keep happening. We both strive for the impossible, ey? Perhaps we strive together.

Greybor: Weird how I'm two for two on a stranger giving me orders and me being okay with it, but I have been bewitched by your weirdly paternal swagger.

Ulbrig: BRO YOU'RE HUGE. AND ON TOP OF ME. BUY A MAN DINNER FIRST, DAMN. My fuckin *ribs* guy....

Trevor: Ah shit, man. Let's get you home.

Parting thoughts (Normal Azata Ending Edition):

Seelah: Stay questioning, my friend. A life full of joy doesn't mean a life of easy answers, you know? You keep your heart open, and I'll always be keeping an eye out.

Camellia: You just had to keep on lying.

Lann: You are like a brother to me (but sometimes I still want to commit fratricide you SHITHEAD. I love you.)

Wenduag: Is there no world in which you find your peace in life? I know I could have done more, but I don't know what that was supposed to be. I failed you just as much as you failed yourself.

Woljif: Tch, I can't wait to watch you turn into a rich, fat, happy old ram. Maybe cool it on the securities fraud for a little bit, I can't be breaking you out of prison. I mean I will but I don't wanna.

Ember: Kindness really is infectious, yeah? You helped me be a kinder version of myself. I'm so glad to know you.

Daeran: Ah, my best friend; love of my life. What an unexpected surprise, to feel so cherished... I wish you'd let the rest of the world see you the way I do. I never could have done this without you.

Nenio: Well, Professor? What new experiments shall we try next? Your loyal assistant is ever ready!

Galfrey: I'd pity you if I felt like that would fix anything. Everything that wasn't your fault was made your problem; I hope you can find it in your heart to rest from that someday.

Sosiel: Ah I guess you aren't so bad... Nah get back here and hug me, fool. I will see you at Harvest, make sure you're drawing silly things to stay loose.

Regill: Master Derenge, it has been an honor. I will always hold your memory in esteem.

Arueshalae: Hey, keep your chin up, recovering from your old life is going to take time. You know I'll be around, yeah? Always at your back, sister.

Greybor: Don't look at me like that, I'm not being smug at all. Anyway tell your family hi from me, hm? You'll be seeing fruit and flowers from me soon enough.

Ulbrig: I guess... I suppose we'll see each other again sometime, somewhere. Good luck to you, my friend.

Trevor: Give yourself the grace of patience, my friend. I will come to you when you need.

[orphanheirs]

WIP Questionnaire

Thanks for the tag, @transthadymacdermot!!

What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

The characters. They existed as deviantart ocs that I used to roleplay with in chatrooms before any semblance of a story existed. This was back in high school.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I'll give a few examples here because there's a lot of songs I think fit the vibe of the story (I have a 4-hour long playlist of "soundtrack" songs)! All of these are based on pure vibes, not necessarily lyrics. For a TV show, I think a folk revival type song like "Over Again" by Stick in the Wheel or "Cannily Cannily" by Maddy Prior and Tim Hart would be sick. If it was a short instrumental intro song, an eerie tune like "More Bones to Sort" from the OTGW soundtrack or this song would work well. To get more general Rasputina is an artist whose overall sound is something that would work great for the story. If you don't know them they're a band that makes rock music with cellos and is very weird and goth about it.

What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

I love them all, but right now I have to admit my favorite is Tristan. It's definitely partially because he's the most developed right now, but also because he's the reason I revived the story after dropping it almost 10 years ago. I remembered him and thought he had potential and fell in love with him all over again. Coming up with ideas for his arc and his backstory got me excited for the overarching story again, and I changed him from a side character to a main character. I have a lot of fun with his personality and I relate to him a lot on a personal level.

What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, Over the Garden Wall, Labyrinth, possibly Interview with the Vampire? and people who grew up with things like Hocus Pocus and A Series of Unfortunate Events. Maybe fans of Neil Gaiman? It's kind of hard to say though; I have no idea how the story would be marketed because it's..pretty weird lol.

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Not sure what the biggest of them all is, but my big three I guess would be plotting, research, and actually writing. I feel like I'm hitting my head on a wall when I try to outline story beats or whatever, so I think I'll just have to fly by the seat of my pants and plot as I go. Research also feels like a hurdle I need to get past because I want to base the story itself on actual mythology and folklore, and root the "real-world" parts of the story in the real historic regency period. Right now I know enough to share fun facts in a conversation, but in reality I don't know shit. I have a lot of work to do in that regard. Actually writing has been a challenge due to a combination of annoying factors including having very little free time in my life, executive dysfunction, and being? scared? of writing? because what if it comes out bad? Which I know is silly but it blocks me from writing a lot of the time nevertheless.

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Right now I'm thinking Crispin has a pet bat named Sparrow. Crispin named the bat Sparrow because he literally thought it was a sparrow, that being the only flying creature he knew of at the time. Now he knows better, but Sparrow is still Sparrow. I haven't thought much about it, but I think Crispin's keeping of a pet is one of the things that indicates he's different from his family/species, i.e. he experiences empathy and longs for companionship. The demon Tristan summons can shapeshift, and takes the form of many different creatures throughout the story.

How do your characters travel/get around?

Considering the time period, the options are limited. There's a lot of walking in this story, but also getting from place to place by carriage or cart. There's likely to be some horseback riding as well. In terms of the supernatural, Crispin can "teleport" himself from point A to point B using magic--but not very far. I still need to figure out the specifics of that though. Tristan is greatly aided in getting around by the demon he summoned, who transforms into a flying black steed Tristan can ride on.

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

Right now I'm bouncing around and writing snippets of scenes that come to mind/interest me most. I'm considering everything experimental at the moment, and not committing to anything actually being in the final novel. This is helping me get over my fear of writing, and I like it because sometimes I end up liking what I write more than I thought I would. I also *might* write the story in novella form first, try out some things with that, learn from it, and then expand and/or rewrite it as a full novel. Other than that I'm researching and brainstorming and drawing (which is part of my process)!

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) will you think draw your audience in?

Hmmm I think the fact it's a dark fantasy/horror story and the fact it's set in the regency period will attract people. The regency period and fantasy are both really popular right now (as far as I can tell). Also the fact that it has found family, which seems to be a popular trope. The fact it has queer characters might be appealing too. Other draws might be the Halloween aspect, and the deal with the devil trope. And if anyone likes enemies to friends and twist villains. There's also heavy use of gothic tropes and subverting them/combining them with folk horror tropes. Regency media (cough cough Jane Austen) tropes will also go under the knife of subversion.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I hope to make it a published novel! Ideally traditionally published, but who knows if that'll happen lol. I also want the book to be illustrated, and to illustrate it myself. Besides that, I'd love to do some comics featuring the characters and maybe even short animations. (She said as if she had endless free time...)

Tagging: @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @finchmomentwrites, and @kaylinalexanderbooks !

[tammulberry]

Sweet Beginnings: Marichat AU (Mulberry Conundrum)

SYNOPSIS: After graduating high school, Marinette inherited the bakery of Tom & Sabine. While business was booming and life was peaceful, all that changed when a mysterious man in a gaudy outfit by the name of Cat Noir makes her try to weaponize bread.

RATING: PM for Passionfruit Macarons

Copyright © 2024 by T.A.M. Mulberry

A Cat With Sunglasses?

Working in a bakery was a feast for the senses. The smell of fresh pastries, delicious bread and sweets. The elegant yet simple designs that surrounded the place. The taste of home. Marinette was content, to say the least.

After graduating from high school, she was set to inherit her parents' famous bakery. Some would say it's the best one in Paris. Tom and Sabine's Boulangerie-Patisserie.

What more could Marinette want? She certainly didn't want anything to change.

Until it ... did.

See, there was a certain customer that always showed up at a specific hour and a specific day. Friday at 7pm when the bakery is about to close.

***

As Marinette was cleaning up and saying goodbye to the last few customers, she heard the bell on top of the door ring.

"Welcome to the best boulangerie-patisserie in Paris!" Marinette greeted in her best customer service voice. "How may I help you...?"

She turned around to see a tall man. Now, Marinette wasn't normally intimidated by tall men but whatever she was looking at right now was enough for her to go into full panic mode.

Bright orange board shorts. Green patterned socks. Sandals. An oversized black hoodie with cat ears. A facemask. Perhaps the worst one of all... huge sunglasses at 7 in evening.

If he showed up this late at night with an outfit as ugly as that then it meant that he most definitely had some ulterior motives. Ulterior motives that Marinette absolutely didn't want to know.

So she screamed and the man mirrored her.

"W-wait a minute, I just wanna—!"

"I HAVE A STALE BAGUETTE AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!" Marinette swung it around like a sword before throwing it at him. The man dodged it smoothly. A little too smoothly that Marinette didn't know if she was frightened or annoyed that he wasn't scramming. It hit the door of the bakery with a loud thud before it fell down and left a mess on the floor.

"Whoa! Marinette! Chill out!" The man tried to calm her, but the adrenaline made her ears ring.

"How do you know my name? Are you stalking the bakery?" She interrogated him further as she grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie.

He stepped away from her and laughed. He laughed.

"You have a name tag, ma'am!" The man continued to laugh and all Marinette could do was stare up at him, confused, embarrassed and oddly charmed by his laugh.

Shut up, self. You almost hit the guy with a baguette.

"Anyways, I'm sorry if I frightened you," he cleared his throat. "I'd prefer if we start over."

The man bowed down like a theater act and Marinette, whose head already managed to cool down was taken aback.

"Good evening, I go by many names but everyone else calls me, Cat Noir."

Marinette tried to stifle a laugh. That sounded so ridiculous.

"I'm Marinette," she said with a warm smile. "I'm sorry for trying to hit you with the baguette earlier. When they're stale, they can be... well, I— uh. I'm sorry in general."

"Hey, it's no big deal," the man said, holding out a palm.

"Well, since you walked in here..." Marinette started. "You probably want to buy something."

"Right. Yeah," he looked at the selection that was still available. "Do you guys still have passionfruit macarons?"

Marinette's face lit up. "Of course! Macarons are one of our bestsellers but the passionfruit macarons aren't as famous as our other flavors."

"Guess, I'll be coming here from now on then," he chuckled lowly and Marinette's face flushed. "I'll be taking your entire stock by the way."

Marinette looked at him incredulously. "Our entire stock is enough for a big family. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I can pay for it," he fished out a wallet that looked expensive. Especially compared to the outfit he was wearing. He fished out 60 euros and offered it to her. "Consider it an apology for nearly scaring you to death."

The blue haired girl nodded and opened a box to place the macarons in. She felt awkward and embarrassed ... yet intrigued? While she didn't want to assume anything, there was something so strangely familiar about the guy, ugly clothes and all.

"So... Cat Noir? People call you that like a stage name?" Marinette questioned, in an attempt to make small talk. "What do you do?

"Well, I ... uh..." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I do charity. And I chose to be a black cat."

"Is that so?" Marinette replied, not completely convinced. He looked like a mixed bag of traits. Smooth, confident, awkward and warm. She couldn't deny that it made the peaceful yet monotonous day a lot more interesting.

She realized she was already done with the box of macarons and handed it to him. Marinette almost wanted to ask him more questions but she hesitated. "Thank you for coming to the bakery."

"Thanks," his facemask prevented her from seeing his face but she could tell he was smiling. "I'll make sure to come back, Princess."

"Princess?" She repeated, her face flushed."

"Yeah," Cat Noir started. "Cuz you're sweet like one."

Okay, that was the cue to call Alya because she might actually faint on the spot.

He snickered mischievously and opened the door. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

END.

[askfullmetalpanic]

Tumblr Community - Full Metal Panic

Tumblr is rolling out this new community feature, and I had applied for an FMP! community a couple weeks back when I saw it pop up, and today it was approved!

I'm still learning my way around communities, but here's some things I've discovered so far:

It doesn't seem like posts in the community will post to the tags. This is good for isolating a post to a limited audience, if you're perhaps shy or worried about negative interactions.

A community can be public, so others can see the posts even if they don't belong to the community, but they cannot interact with the posts.

A community can be private, which would be good for further limiting the possibility of bad actors invading a space. Not my goal as a fandom community, so not a feature I'll use, but useful to know.

Side-blogs can't be invited or posted from in a community right now. Unsure if that will be implemented or not.

Posts from wild tumblr can be reblogged into the community. The reverse is not possible.

Currently, edits to a community are not possible, but they will be implemented in the hopefully-near-future. I didn't have any graphics ready to go when I applied, so the FMP community has default graphics, and I can't change that until this update. Apologies for the sloppiness on my part.

I'm not sure if you can request to be added to a community through it, I don't see any mention of such a feature.

If you have a pending invite to join a community, you may SEE everything a member can, but cannot interact until you accept the invite.

I sent invites earlier to a small handful of people I see in the notes or tags a lot, but then I got distracted so I never finished. Please feel free to send me a message here or @moonlight-at-dawn to request an invite to the community, if this seems like something you wish to join!

EDIT: Also just learned that if you reblog a non-community post to a community, the community-comments do NOT show up in the activity of the original poster. I'm not sure how I feel about that as of right now. I suppose it's ultimately no different than sharing something to a friend group and talking about it away from wherever it is hosted. But at the same time, I kinda feel where this is the *same* site, that the OP has a right to see what comments are made on their posts within the same hosting space? Not sure, I guess it falls into "I don't think this sort of thing should be made any easier, but I also don't think not including it would deter anyone whose goal is that."

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 7-Atsushi/Fukuzawa with kinks Aphrodisiacs and Praise kink

Notes: Really Rare Pair lol. I dunno, it's fun(I'm a multishipper). ALSO DID YOU GUYS KNOW THAT BENTO’S IN JAPAN COST LIKE 3-5 BUCKS? I'M SO JEALOUS THEIR LIKE 15$ HERE!

It was a relatively peaceful evening at the Agency. And that was because he was the only one here. Atsushi doubted that it would be this quiet if they all had not abandoned him alone to do paperwork and went off on missions. Well, besides Dazai. No one knew where he was. They had their guesses. Kunikida had guessed, ‘off somewhere slacking off as usual,’ Ranpo had simply said ‘woman’ and Yosano and Kenji had guessed suicide attempt. Kyouka hadn't weighed in, and neither had Tanzaki and Naomi, but that was because they hadn't been there. Atsushi was sure that if they had been there, they would have had their own opinions.

But anyway, everyone was out and Atsushi was demoted to doing paperwork all day long in his loneliness. It wasn't too bad in all honesty. It was quiet, and the sun was just burning the horizon with orange and yellows. It was peaceful. The wind was gentle and smelled faintly of something sweet, and a street musician was playing faintly in the background. Atsushi was the only one here, as far as he knew. And he had gotten through a substantial amount of the work he had been avoiding, and he had secretly raided Ranpo’s snack drawer(although based on how it wasnt locked like it usually was, Atsushi wouldn't be surprised if the man left it open for him as an apology).

Atsushi leaned back in his chair, stretching. He might as well go to the corner store and get some dinner, maybe replace a few of Ranpo’s snacks while he was at it. The wind caressed his face as he closed the door behind him, tossing his hair gently around, letting the longer strands tickle his cheeks. It was a good temperature, not too cold and not too warm and the sun splashed a pretty sunset over the horizon. Golden hour light highlighted the world, casting it in a brilliant ethereal glow. It was nice to get out of the office for a minute, to walk through the streets, busy with people on their way home from work, and simply stretch for a minute. 

He's turning the corner to the supermarket when he spots it, the cute little bento shop right next door, with a big red ‘buy one get one free!’ sign, and he’s never really been one to resist a good sale. The bell tinkles as he enters the shop, the only other customer, a giggly couple in the corner, barely pay him mind as he walks to the counter. The woman working the register smiles brightly at him. 

“Hi cutie, what can I getcha?” Atsushi can't help the red that scrawled across his cheeks, he’s still not used to compliments. The woman is pretty too, and while these days Atsushi’s type is a little different, he can at least admit she’s pretty. Dazai would probably ask her for double suicide. “Um, I'll take the Katsu Bento please!” The woman, whose name tag reads Akiko nods, tapping away at the register with her long acrylic nails. “Oh yeah!” Akiko looks up. “We're actually offering a discount right now. If you try our new pickles we give 50% off! What do ya think, sweety?” Atsushi’s nodding before he can even think properly. “I'll take it. I also saw you guys have a buy one get one free deal right now?” Akiko nods, smiling. “Yep, so you want two Katsu bento’s with the new pickles. That’ll be 200¥.” Atsushi hands over the coins with a smile, and the woman slides his bentos across the counter. She tosses him a wink as he leaves. “Enjoy baby.” 

The bell tinkles as he leaves, the breeze welcomes him back into the dusk. The sun has sunk a little more, but still peaks over the horizon, as if it longs to stay for one more hour. Birds chirp and leaves spin through the air and a little girl runs past him, chasing a runaway balloon. The afternoon is perfect, but almost two perfect and Atsushi’s almost waiting for Akutagawa to jump out of the shadows and threaten him with a few amputated limbs. But he makes it all the way back to the Agency without any notable accidents. 

The Agency is no longer empty when he gets back, the president is sitting on the brown leather couch by the door, flipping through a book. And Atsushi hates how his heart speeds up a little bit when he sees him. He looks unfairly dignified and attractive as he flips through his book, looking up and meeting Atsushi’s eyes. “There you are, Atsushi, I was wondering where you had gone off two.” Atsushi pointedly ignores his flushed cheeks and speeds up heart rate and holds up the to-go bag. “Went out to grab some dinner. Would you like one sir? I have an extra bento.” The President closes his book with a nod. “I would like one, thank you.” 

◈◈◈

The bento Atsushi hands him is lovely, with one side of rice with a rather generous piece of Katsu sliced across it. There are three different types of sides, including a lovely cucumber salad, a pickled leaf that looks a bit like perilla, and a little mochi for dessert. He gratefully takes the chopsticks Atsushi hands him, giving the boy a grateful smile. The little flush on his face is charming. “This looks delicious, Atsushi. Tell me how much I owe you.” Atsushi unwraps his own chopsticks, a bashful little smile curved across his face. “Oh don't worry about it, it was a buy one get one free deal. They also gave me a 50% off discount if I tried their new pickles.” He uses a chopstick to pick one of the leaves out, taking a bite. “Oh, these are good.” Fukuzawa takes a bite of one and finds he does not care for the taste at all. It has a distinctly mint like flavor, but strangely not and because of the pickling, kind of bitter. He scoops his into Atsushi’s bento. Atsushi sends him a grateful little smile. 

The rest of the Bento is delicious, and Fukuzawa digs in as they talk. “You know Atsushi.” Fukuzawa starts out, “You have been doing exceptionally well with your jobs lately.” The flush that takes his cheeks is adorable, and Fukuzawa can't help the thought, exceptionally cute. The boy has always been susceptible to praise. “You don't have to say that, Sir.” Fukuzawa shakes his head. “No, I mean it. And your suggestion to team up with the mafia proved a very good one.” And, although he won't say this part, he likely would have not thought of it himself, or even if he had, he would have disregarded the thought. He didn't want to think too hard about the reason he even thought properly about it in the first place. The boy smiles bashfully at the praise, his whole body practically singing with joy, his ears and tail flicking happily—

Wait, a tail and ears? Fukuzawa looks again, just in case he hallucinates in his old age. Sure enough, two ears have sprouted on the boy's  head, and a tail flicks behind him, wagging slightly. Fukuzawa frowns. While it's admittedly kind of adorable, and his hands are itching to stroke the soft white fur, he should probably tell him. But he really doesn't want to. Atsushi is sure to put them away then, and they're just so cute! Fukuzawa really, really wants to pet them, maybe run his hands through Atsushi’s soft hair while he’s at it. 

Atsushi still hasn't noticed the ears, and is happily munching away at those new pickles. He seems to really like them, it's almost charming how he chomps away happily, a little smile curved across his face. Those leaves look strangely familiar though, but Fukuzawa just can't place them…

“Um Sir? Is something wrong?” Those eyes are looking at him, and Fukuzawa realizes he's staring. He shakes his head, clearing thoughts of petting Atsushi out of his head. He really should just tell him about the ears, as much as he doesn't want to. He opens his mouth, ready to tell all, but he never gets the chance because suddenly Atsushi is gone, replaced by a huge white tiger. The change is almost instantaneous, and although Fukuzawa should be scared, he really isn't because the tiger looks less fearsome and more just adorable as it pads around the table, pouncing on the couch and laying its head in Fukuzawa’s lap. Fukuzawa almost melts, because his lap is full of giant Atsushi kitty and he just has to stroke him.

The fur is as soft as he imagined, and a deep pur rumbles out of Atsushi Kitty, the vibrations rattling him and the couch. The massive cat nuzzles his hand, almost begging for more pets. With joy, Fukuzawa obliges. 

The ring of his phone cuts through the calm of the room. Atsushi Kitty’s ears flick slightly as Fukuzawa removes one hand to answer. It's Dazai. 

“Yo, Boss? Is Atsushi with you?” 

Fukuzawa chuckles, “Yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“Uh, ok. Well, he’s not picking up his phone.” Dazai sounds like he’s barely holding back laughter. “I forgot to tell him that he should not get the Bento’s from that place down the street.” 

Fukuzawa’s blood runs cold. “Why?”

“You sound panicked.” Dazai sounds far too pleased. “Don't worry, it's nothing bad. They have a few deals and you know how Atsushi can't resist those.” 

Dazai says it's nothing but ice cold panic still runs through Fukuzawa’s veins. 

“Anyway, they have a new pickle that he shouldn't eat.” He hears a commotion on the line, and then Dazai’s voice is replaced by Kunikida. “President? Yes, Dazai was dallying so i'll just tell you.” 

“What's wrong with the pickles?” Fuuzawa tries to steady his voice, but an embarrassing tremor is still there. Fukuzawa can almost hear Kunikida frowning through the phone. “He ate them, didn't he?” 

“Yes”

Fukuzawa can hear giggling in the background, probably Dazai. Kunikida continues. “Don't worry, they aren't poisonous. I talked to the lady down the street and she said it is a new strain of catnip they’ve developed.” 

The panic is gone, replaced by amusement. “I see, well that's not a problem then.” 

“Well, um, you see…” Kunikida sounds almost flustered, and then he's replaced by Dazai again.

“What Kunikida is too flustered to say is that the Catnip acts as a potent aphrodisiac.” Fukuzawa almost chokes, Dazai sounds far too thrilled as he continues. “Apparently, it has no effect on humans, but most cats almost immediately go into a heat of some type.”

“But what effect will it have on Atsushi? He’s technically a tiger.��� Fukuzawa is grasping at straws here, desperately trying to tamp down any inappropriate thoughts. Dazai is replaced, but with Ranpo this time.

“Hey boss, did Atsushi eat all my snacks” 

“Ranpo, I don't think that's our priority right now.”

“Yeah yeah, well the aphrodisiac should have an effect on Atsushi, because of the tiger.” Fukuzawa loves his members, but seriously, he just needs information right now. Ranpo continues. “I'd guess there would be like three stages. One, cat ears and tail, two, full tiger form, and three back to human.” Fukuzawa can faintly hear rustling in the background, and a few muffled giggles.

“He’ll probably go all horny when he’s back in human form.” Ranpo chomps on something, probably some chips. “This is good for you, Boss. you can finally stop lying to yourself—

Fukuzawa hears a commotion in the background again and then Dazai is grabbing the phone. “Don't worry Prez, I'd be happy to come back and take care of him, you don't have to do any—” There’s a smack, and then the line goes dead. 

Fukuzawa is frozen for a moment, truly taking in the information. Apparently, the store down the road decided to mutate a new type of Catnip, specifically for pickles? In his old age, Fukuzawa has truly stopped being surprised by most things but this one, this one almost gets him. The massive tiger on his lap purrs, nuzzling into his hand as he resumes his petting, trying to come up with a game plan for when Atsushi returns to his human form and inevitably ‘goes all horny’. He has, to his knowledge, three options. One, he could call Dazai back and have him ‘deal with it’. This option on the surface seems like a good one, but the thought of Dazai’s hands all over Atsushi makes a weird feeling start in his chest.(he knows it's jealousy, but he can't admit it, even just to himself.) Option two is to take care of it himself. And, although it's the most attractive option, that one is out of the question. He has grown much too old to be messing around like that, especially with a much younger employee. 

The third option is quickly looking to be his only option, to simply wait it out and do nothing. And in the end, its the only option he really has.(In the back of his mind, Fuykuzawa prepares himself for the battle of a lifetime, because he’s not sure what's going to happen when Atsushi returns to human form, but he can certainly imagine it. Atsushi’s pretty flushed face, his lips parting in moans and whimpers, his flushed chest covered in pretty hickeys, his voice panting out that stupid appellation the boy likes to use, “Oh, Fukuzawa Sir, it feels so good. Oh oh oh—)

His phone ringtone startles Fukuzawa out of his thoughts. Atsushi’s ears flick in displeasure as Fukuzawa removes his hands, answering the call. 

“Yo Prez.” Dazai sounds thrilled. “We got some info.”

“I see.” The massive tiger in his lap is purring again, and Fukuzawa almost melts into a puddle of sappy joy. Dazai chuckles. 

“Apparently, you have a couple options.” Dazai says. “One, pardon my french, you fuck it out of him.” Fukuzawa clears his throat, hoping to clear his mind of all the images that conjured up. Dazai continues, sounding much too amused. “Two, ask Lucy to do it. Or three, I'm still available to come home and do it for you.”

“Can I not just wait it out?” Fukuzawa hates the green monster of jealousy that rears its ugly head at the mention of Dazai or even Lucy ‘dealing with it’. 

“Nope.” Dazai replies. “Apparently if you let it go he could get seriously injured. I dunno, I wasn't listening to the specifics.”

A small silence descends upon the two men on the phone, before Dazai speaks up once more. “So Prez, can I do it?” Fukuzawa doesn't like how excited he sounds, positively gleeful. “Put Ranpo on please.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know, maybe this is good. You can finally stop lying to yourself and we at the office can stop seeing Atsushi’s abandoned little puppy eyes every time you enter the room—”

A commotion sounds on the other side of the phone, but Fukuzawa doesn't really notice because it's at this moment that the fur on the giant tiger recedes, leaving behind a sleeping boy, head still nestled on Fukuzawa’s lap. 

“Yo, boss? Did Atsushi eat all my snacks? I left to drawer open as an apology for leaving him there, but i only did it because i thought he would be too polite to eat them all—”

“Ranpo, is that really our priority right now?” Fukuzawa isn't proud of how his voice shakes slightly.

“Geez, ok. Did you need something?” Fukuzawa can actively hear Ranpo’s eye roll. “Cause we were just stopping at the store to get a snack refill.”

Fukuzawa is truly tempted to roll his eyes. “Atsushi is asleep right now. How long until the aphrodisiac kicks in.”

“I dunno, maybe ten minutes.” Ranpo says. “You should probably take him back to the dorms.”

“But i don't intend—” “Yeah sure, whatever you say.” And with a beep, the line goes dead. With a sigh, Fukuzawa gently hoists a still sleeping Atsushi into his arms, and starts the trek back to the dorms.

◈◈◈

Dusk has fallen, the sun has all but vanished over the horizon and a thousand stars paint the sky, He only gets a few strange looks on the way home, but it's clear that the people of Yokohama have long since grown used to the strange happenings around the Agency building and he gets back to the dorms, and into Atsushi’s apartment with no problems. It's only once he's stepped inside, when he’s set Atsushi gently on the floor and is rummaging around for the futon when he truly asks himself what he’s planning to do once the boy wakes up. And when he’s settling Atsushi gently on the futon, and is sitting beside it, he tries his best to think of a solution, any solution besides the one that's screaming at him. But he fails, and as he stands, ready to get Dazai and live with the jealousy, he feels a hand on his Yukata, pulling him to a stop, and he meets the hazy eyes of Atsushi Nakajima, awake but not totally lucid.

Truthfully, as soon as he meets those eyes, hazy with lust and slipping, he knows he's done for. But he still holds out hope that he can at least try to resist. He can at least tell himself that he’s going to stand up and leave the boy, and call Dazai. But he’s always been a stubborn man, at least to himself, and he does his best to shake Atsushi’s hand off gently. The younger boy has pulled himself into a sitting position, and is lazily undoing his tie with one hand, the other still hooked on the hem of Fukuzawa’s Yukata. “Sir, I feel so hot.” His voice is a calculated seduction, each movement, from the flick of his wrist as he pulls his tie from his neck, to the low lidded eyes and fluttering eyelashes is precisely calculated to wear down the walls separating his good sense from his dick. 

And yes, Fukuzawa knows that most of this is likely involuntary, but it still works. Too well. Fukuzawa’s green hakama falls to the floor, knocked completely from his shoulders as Atsushi tugs especially hard, and in an effort to twist away, Fukuzawa trips, sprawling to the floor with a crash. He lands on his butt, his hands catching him on the way down, and Atsushi’s on him in a flash, crawling towards him along the floor. Frukuzawa grabs his shoulders, stopping him before he can do anything drastic. And puts up his last line of defense.

“Atsushi, do you, as well as you can, consent to this?” Atsushi is undoing more and more buttons, still gazing at him with those lust blown eyes. He nods, tugging gently on the hem of Fukuzawa’s Yukata. “Yes, Sir.” That address, that darn address makes his dick twitch in his pants, coming to life with a furry. Maybe it's because of the (substantial) age gap, or maybe because it's just Atsushi, but Fukuzawa knows he will never be able to hear it the same way again. 

He wants to kiss him, he wants to press his lips to Atsushi’s own and caress him gently and take his time, but he feels like he doesn't have the right to. He feels, that he already has the privilege of touching Atsushi, because even though the boy seems to hold some affection for him, he’s still his boss, and a much older man, and its natural for Atsushi, a boy who had previously had no one to rely on but himself, to develop a crush on an older source of comfort in his life. And it should be Fukuzawa’s job to gently rebuke the boy's affections, and watch him fall for more suitable people like Lucy(and not Dazai, because that green monster of jealousy is rearing its ugly head once again.) He feels almost like he’s stealing something precious, something he can never return. And so, instead of kissing Atsushi, he flips the shorter boy over, letting him lay lewdly on his stomach, his ass pointed in the air. It's much more raunchy and dirty, and much less intimate, making him much less likely to get overwhelmed by his swiftly growing feelings and say something useless. 

He takes the time to properly undo his Yukata and underlayer, folding them neatly if only to prove how sane and controlled he is right now, and when he looks back, he's greeted by the sight of a mostly naked Atsushi, grinding his hips down against the futon covering. Fukuzawa can feel his dick jump to hardness, because it's quite a pretty sight. The boy is thin, a small waist tapering into surprisingly wide hips and round little butt. Usually, he would take his time, maybe gently caress the boy and press kisses to those shoulders, but he just needs to fuck the Catnip out of his system, and hopefully avoid any awkwardly intimate things like hickeys and i love you’s(if only for his own sanity and integrity as an employer). 

He highly doubts the boy has lube, and so he does the next best thing. He spits in his hand, lubing up his cock the best he can, under the circumstances. He lines his cock head up with Atsushi’s hole, stopping just one more time to check.

“Are you sure Atsushi? I could call Dazai—” Atsushi takes the decision out of his hands by gripping Fukuzawa’s cock, and gently shoving the head into his hole. Atsushi’s back arches, and a whimper exits his mouth, a whimper of Fukuzawa’s name and that stupid, sensual ‘sir’. Fukuzawa isn't proud of how he shoves the rest of the way in, gripping Atsushi’s waist with a groan. It's been a long time, too long, apparently. “Feel good?” He says as he begins to move, pulling out all the way and back in, in long, slow thrusts. “Yes, ohh Sir!” Atsushi’s hands are tangled in the Futon cover, head turned to the side, hair splayed across the blue comforter in a striking contrast. 

He looks heavenly and sinful and Fukuzawa doubts he’ll be able to erase the image of Atsushi beneath him for a long, long time. His moans are pretty, just as pretty as his eyes, that beautiful vertical heterochromia, those gorgeous colores, the color of the sunset sky. A sunset sky overcast with the clouds of lust and devotion. His hole is tight and pulsing, hugging Fukuzawa’s cock in a warm welcome, almost telling him to never leave, to fuck this pretty boy forever, to love this boy forever. Fukuzawa can feel himself getting sappy, because he’s a weak, sappy old man and he can't help it. 

Somehow, all his protests before have vanished all at once. Maybe he’s too far gone, too enamored with the boy and his pretty body to lie to himself anymore. Maybe, he considered as he leaned down, pressing Atsushi’s body into the mattress, letting his strokes speed up as the boy moaned his name once more, maybe this really was a good thing, a blessing in disguise as his colleagues had suggested. 

“Ohh oh sir, I'm cumming!” Fukuzawa gives up on not being sappy, and tangles his hands with Atsushi’s, grinding his hips deep inside the boy as he cums, letting himself go not soon after. And, as he cleans the boy up a little and pulls the futon covers over his sleepy form, he lets himself seriously consider courting Atsushi, and gives the Bento box a five star review.

(And he never did hear Sir the same way again, every time Atsushi uttered the word it reminded him of that night, and made him flush in a business meeting. )

End Notes: Also, did you know that technically, catnip counts as an aphrodisiac when promoting cat mating? Well i didn't, and i learned it when i had to do research for this fic man. Also tigers don't really respond to catnip, but now they do because I said so.(and because i made up a mutation of it)

Taglist:@mulit05ho3st4n

[twimshi]

Shattered Realities Prt3

Hobie Brown/Reader (3/5 part)

"Yes or no?"

Maybe she was the dirty window.

(A/n I wanna preface that webbie is based of you, the reader but mainly as a POC with semi tan to dark skin but you can imagine her as whatever because she is a self insert in a sense so go nuts)

Also plz comment, l love replying

Tag list

@kittekat420

@zeyzeys-stuff

@50yruken

@oromaangel

[I also might start a discord server for the updates so just drop ur discord Id]

It's been about a few weeks since Webbies arrival and stay at Hobies, yet she still isn't used to some things.

"I'll be heading to out now" Says Hobie getting ready.

Webbie asks, getting bored of the mundane life she's been living "Wait what do I do here?"

"Uhm? I don't know, just chill. I guess? Don't watch any British shows without me, I heard kitchen nightmare is airing in an hour but I 'ought to handle this police chase real quick"

Before Hobie could gear up, he was alarmed by the sound of popping from the window.

"Woah, fireworks." Webbie said trying to stick her head out to get a closer look while Hobie is confused.

"Fireworks on a normal day? My god Webbie-" He shoots his webs to her shoulders inside to hold her back and closes the curtain with another

Webbie struggles in his webs, hands stretched to the window "Hey! you're blocking me the fireworks"

"Those are gun shots Webs" Hobie deadpans.

Sometimes Webbie forgets that there were scheduled protests in Old York.

She stops her struggling and backs away from the miror "Oh, noted....Wait, Webs? I didn't know we were on nick name basis"

Hobie shrugs "I've been calling you so many names all this time, and you notice when I call you Webs?

Her eyes glimmer, not paying attention to what he says "You need a nickname."

Hobie crosses his arms "Isn't Hobie short enough"

"Not short enough, what about Bee-bee?"

"That's like the same amount of syllabus. You make me sound like a cartoon character" He says, trying to make sense of the name "Plus it sounds odd, anyways gotta go now. Call me if you need anything"

Webbie taps his shoulder before he can go out "Erm...I don't have a phone to call you though, I could probably learn how to do smoke signals to communicate with you?"

"How would that even work in this small place"

"Like incase I burn your place or something, smoke signals"

"Thats it, you are officially banned from the stove"

Webbie looks at him in shock "I was only joking!"

He gives her a teasing look before trying to think of an alternative solution.

"Hold that thought" Hobie types something on his phone, there was a ping back "Right, I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Just sit tight"

Webbie does as told watching an animal programe that was playing on the television when Hobie swings back with a small device on hand and hands it to her.

"One of my ex-bandmates is a tech whiz, she had some extras on hand. It already has a sim card inside so its all set"

She takes the phone after thanking him, trying to figure out what type of model it was "Not complaining, but what brand is this phone? I just want to know to jog any memories because it looks familiar but mixed in with a bunch of other brands i know"

"Thats because it is a mix of brands"

Webbie tilts her head still confused.

"My bandmate experimented on a couple of phone scrapes to make the most efficient phone and came up with this, works like a normal phone. Just better" He explains.

"Woah, you even got me a tangerine charm"

Hobie gleams, almost proud of himself for getting the little phone charm "I got Pav a watermelon one, seems right to get a matching one with you too"

"Whose Pav?"

"He's my-" Hobie wants to say but is rudely interrupted by his watch beeping "Acrually it's better if you met him in person, I gotta bounce right now"

He swings out without another word and before Webbie could even peak out of the window he webs it shut with a note reading.

Don't even try, call me if you're burning -brown

Webbie contemplates burning the building down out of pure pettiness and dying the the flames.

-

Hobie returns after an hour of erands.

"You're finally letting me out of the house?"

"You make me sound like I'm holding you captive" He says making his way into the window "But actually, we can go out now-"

But Webbie has already made her way to the bathroom, changing her attire.

As promised, Hobie brings her around, taking her sightseeing.

She even got to take a picture with the clock tower which was called 'An doomsday clock' by Hobie.

Once that was done, it was late evening so Hobie decided to introduce her to his old band mates after bumping into them.

He decides to grab some snacks, leaving Webbie to converse by herself.

Webbie thinks of something to try to break the ice "Oh! If you had the chance to be any animal, what would you be?"

"A penguin" Says the one with a bandana

"Thats a tricky one, totally would be a salmon fish" The other with gauges in his ear says.

Webbie makes an 'ooo' sound, taking note of everything "I want to be a whale" She states "Not only are they the biggest mammals but oh!"

They jump a little, waiting for her to continue.

"I just remembered I like space! Like black holes and all that"

The other two seemed to be having a conversation on their own, so Webbie just speaks to the Jerm (the guy with the bandana)

The more Webbie speaks, the more excited she has with the overwhelming feeling of her memories resurfacing.

"And did you know that Venus is actually more hot than Mercury from the atmosphere, quite similarly....."

Webbie stops, realizing that his expression was slightly bored.

He shakes his head when she stops talking "Sorry Webbie just dozed there for a second, what were you saying?"

She covers her emotions "Actually that's all! Thanks for listening"

"Oh really? Well, you're welcome"

Their voices slightly blur as a familiar sinking feeling from when she was younger.

Oh

Oh

Oh

Webbie thinks she sees a child? A person? She settles on child with child person.

She thinks she sees a child looking at her mother.

Then she cant seem to here the words.

But she can feel them to her core.

They run into the bathroom and just stare into the miror, tears streaming down their face.

its like she could feel every emotion they felt from that rear view miror.

Theres a moment where they just cradle their head, trying to make sure they dont make a peep.

It hurts.

She feels hurt and its scary.

They child person stare into the miror, tears streaming down their face as they they slide down the wall - biting on their hands, making sure they didnt let any sound out.

It was lonely.

It was c̴̡̰͖̯̹̲̱̤͈͎̤̻̜̺̠͍͚̦̦̈̍̿͆̿ͅͅo̸̡͉̤̟̩̼̰̯̻̞̱͉̤̺̳̞͙̣̫̲͇̠̼̠̽̅̉̈̀͑́̽̌͆͘̚l̵̛̫̫̯̗̪̖͇̣͋̍̂́͒̒́̍̽̆̾̐͊̓̀̾͝͝ͅd̶̢̡͖̪̫͍̩̞͎̱̣̮̮͚̝̩̯͓̻͓̰͇̥̉́͜

Oh

Oh

õ̴̢̨̙͕̘̳͓̘͈̼̩͍̙̊͐ͅh̶̡̡͚͍̗̫͔̗̞̮̗͔̮̰̱̅́̑̍̏̉

Oh

Her thoughts are snapped back into reality when she receives a text from her phone from Hobie.

Of course, it was Hobie, the only contact on her phone.

She calms herself to make an important decision as Hobie send her an assortment of snacks for her to choose from saying she could only choose one.

Webbie makes her decision to settle on a hashbrown and skittles.

Hashbrown and skittles por favor (*¯︶¯*)

Hobie replies in an instant

That has the weirfedt combindsation evear

M texting eithj one hend si dstop your snar ky reples

Webbie snorts and sends him a reply

( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ ) okay illeterate slob

Webbie sets her phone down and dec8des to try,to engage in conversation again.

She compliments their earings.

"Have you ever thought of getting one?"

"I uh...not really? But I'm open to get like a super cool one, but only one, but like....a cool one"

"She should get a dermal piercing" His friend laughed and grabbed Webbie shoulder suddenly, who was slightly alarmed but played it cool.

She could totally be cool.

These were Hobie's friends, after all.

Her eyes kept darting between all of his band mates, hoping Hobie would get back when his unnamed friend spoke up "Come on guys don't"

Hobie walks back with the snacks on hand, paasing then to his friends "You getting along bug?"

"Y-yeah totally bro man"

He gives her a weird look, resuming conversation.

The laughther is interrupted when her a dermal piercing is brought up.

Hobbie turned immediately towards Webbie "Piercing? Did he or you say that-"

Webbie tries to reasure him, punchjng his shoulder lightly "You worry wart, of course I suggested it"

"Yeah man don't worry, she said she might get a dermal at Mikes"

"Come off it man, a dermal? You trying to poison her first experience?"

"Chill it was just a joke, no harm"

Webbie inhales smiling, trying to be cool about it even though she felt a little foolish about it "It's fine, I'm alright" She scoots to Hobie whispering "What's a dermal?"

Hobie looks around and points to his neck.

"Oh....ew"

"Yeah ew, don't get crowd pressured to get something. Seriously."

Webbie pats his back "I know.It's fine, really"

Hobie doesn't look that convinced until she playfully punches him and sticks to him from the side.

He decides to let it go, shoving his hands in his pockets "You wanna drink?"

Webbie makes a thinking face "No but I would like to try?"

Hobie nods, confirming plans with his friends as they make their way to a nearby pub.

----

Webbie was slightly hoping for a margarita or a sweet type of alcohol but the place they went to only seemed to serve beer and chicken wings.

"Ew, this beer, taste like bread" Webbie gags after trying to drink it again "You might as well blend bread and mix hand sanitiser with it"

Hobie rolls his eyes at her "That's what all bear taste liks"

"Gross, it tastes like my broken dreams"

Hobie raises an eyebrow, interested "You got dreams?"

"I was being sarcastic!" She tries to take another chug to spit it out "I don't feel anything, this taste like garbage and im feeling good. Alcohol is one big lie"

He takes the mug away from her "That's enough beer for you. Usually it takes some time for people to feel it, gotta pace yourself for that"

She scrunches up her face at him "Gross"

The music booms louder and Webbie closses her eyes for a while to try to quite it down as Hobie slowly seperates from her to his friends at the other side of the island table.

She doesn't understand why she feels so, lonely?

Like all the people are laughing and talking but she feels like she's looking right at them from a dirty window.

Maybe she was a dirty window.

That needed windex.

The beer was the windex.

But she hated beer, so that still leaves her as the dirty miror.

She just asked for some water entertaining herself by watching the football on the TV.

She has a whole conversation in her mind about what's so interesting about balls getting tossed around.

Seems like it was a huge event because more people rushed into the bar.

It kind of felt like mash potatoes, Webbie would relish in some mashed potatoes with actual relish right now.

Unsure and a little fed up, she looks around the pub to find Hobie.

She gets up and squeezes her way towards him, sighing in relief and holding his sleeve like a lifeline.

She could almost fall asleep like that.

Hobie tilts his head back to look at, her distasteful smile in her sleepy state.

He says something to one of his friends who nods their head and wave at the confused Webbie as Hobie slowly menurvers them out of the crowded room.

He shoves his hands in his pocket and points to the street sign with his thumb "Wanna get smoothies then go to spider society? I have to check in for something, but we can get little bites before we go"

Webbie thinks her heart expands then sinks at the same time "What? No. You don't want to hang out with your friends? You talked about wanting to do this since like, last week?"

"What about it?"

"I just....I don't mind going home"

"Alright let's go home"

She panics.

Ashamed that he can read her mind.

She grabs his vest "No- I mean you go have fun, I'll go home. It's totally fine Beebee" her fingers tighten.

Hobie chooses to ignore the name "And I mean we can go home together, I hang out with them next week for the gig. Might as well do one more song"

"Hobieeee" She drags.

"Webs" He mirors.

"Webs?"

"Yes Webs" He leans on a wall, looking at her, but his tone becomes gentler "What's got your panties in a bunch?"

"Okay I know that's slang, but it sounds so weird and secondly, what makes you say that

"For starters, you're being less" He makes some hand gesture "You"

"Whatttt?" She shurgs, trying to seem nonchalant "No way, bro......"

"Webbie" Hobie says firmly.

"Okay, fine so what?"

"You do know that I don't mind your silly annoying absurdness"

"You think I'm silly?"

Hobie rolls his head back, punching her shoulder lightly to get out of whatever sappy mood that was slowly forming "My friends don't mind you also. They're just a different demographic. Promise not to change your individuality"

"You sound like a self-help lecturer but alright Brown"

"Promise?"

"I promise to always be annoying" Webbie smiles, looking up at him and knocks her feet against his.

She forgets how tall he was sometimes.

Hobie looks down at his feet and knocks his feet back to hers "Atta lad"

After some time Webbie pushes him back to the door of the pub "But for realzies, go back to your friends. Maybe I could go and take a nap at the spider society pub or something"

"Spider society does not, unfortunately have a pub. Trust me I've checked" He sighs thinking back "Throughly"

"I mean, the whole multiple universe thing that you explained to me seems like a whole space theory" She adds "Which means there is a possibility where there is a univerese where people drink alcohol like water"

"That would probably mean they found a cure for liver cancer. The universe would either be fun as hell or a living nightmare"

They both nod their head.

After just stalling, Webbie looks at Hobie again "But seriously, go back to your friends. I'll just go to Spider Society and hopefully avoid Miguel on the way there"

Hobie hums "Are your memories coming back?"

"Something like that, its just an uncomfortable feeling I get" She grips herself and let's go before Hobie can speak "Like when you think you're about to sneeze but can't"

"Thats oddly specific-"

"Or when you think youre about to silently fart but its really loud-"

"Alright, alright. You've made your point." Hobie opens up the portal. "I'll be home at around four, so give me a ring if you get back early"

Webbie hops into the portal waving goodbye with her last words "Okie Beebee"

"I ought to shank you for that-" The portal closses before he could even finish his sentance which leaves Webbie giggling to herself.

She makes her way to Margo (Byte) without pulling too much attention to herself.

By attention to herself, she means to avoid talking to any of the spider people which could be hard sometimes because they were all so friendly and funny.

Why couldnt Miguel be funny.

He's like one of the few spidermen that were not funny, well other than Spider plush, his backstory with uncle with Teddy Ben was quite heartbreaking so it dosent count.

Webbie calls out for Margo, who is estatic at her return

After hugging, she takes a selfie of the both of them with flash on.

"Oh, you got a new phone. Did Jess give that to you?" Margo quickly noyes.

"She was supposed to, but she seems kinda busy with the whole pregnancy and balancing multiverse, so I didn't bother asking again"

"Did you steal it?"

"I wish I was that cool, but no, Hobie got'em for me, and oh." She dangles her phone charm to Margo. "He evem got me a tangerine charm"

"Thats nice of him, how long are you staying here today?"

"Just for a couple of hours, wouldn't want to distract you guys"

"You don't girl, you good. Let me finish some documents them we'll talk"

"Kay-kay"

Webbie likes spider society, everyone here was nice and fun.

Just being in company with Margo made her gleam in joy.

She doesn't even dig for more information about her memories unless specifically asked for.

Margo finishes up a report and looks at Webbie, who was sitting upside down on her phone "What are you doing?"

"Trying to send Hobie an animal fact, did you know seahorses mate for life? And slugs have like, four noses. Like what are they smelling in the seafloor other than salt and steel?"

"I did not know that" Margo says typing something on her own phone to notify Malala of Webbies surprise visit.

The two converse their weekly updates to each other.

"Yeah, I tried convincing Hobie to let me cook something but he won't let me near the stove because I made one joke about burning his kitchen-"

"Webbie!" A figure yells.

Malala takles Webbie to the floor out of pure excitement "Oof, good to see you to scarffy"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming back!"

"It was a last-minute decision babes"

"Babes?" Malala Saya caught off guard "You hang out with Hobie too much. Anyways, how have you been?"

"Just dandy" Webbie says, feeling slightly woozy "Do you ladies happen to know where the snacks are, more specifically tangerines?"

"I think we do, mind if you get them yourself? I've got a mission to do soon and need a nap" Margo says.

"Same here" Malala adds.

"No worries my bromies, I'll to get it. Where is by the way?"

Margo chuckles awkwarly, not making eyecontact with webbie " Uhm...Just near Miguel's office"

"You've gotta be kidding me" She looks for Malala's eyes "You're kidding right malala?"

"Sorry Webbie" She says apologeticly.

"I'll be fine, why wouldn't I be fine approaching a tall angry man that gave me big time pain through a porwal....peetal" Webbie smacks her lips together trying again "Portawl....close enough"

Her speech becomes slured and vision becames a little messy as the alcohol finally settles in her stomach.

It honestly felt like sleep walking so she couldn't be drunk, at least she thinks so.

She finally finds Miguels office but hides behind some equipment when she hears Jess's voice through the intercome

"Don't you find it weird that the spider-9833 event isn't happening?" Miguel says.

"Right, it's been a lot of unscripted filler. Which is normal, but not to the point where no canon events have been happening lately"

"More anomalies have been showing up but thats normal, but its becoming more......Mundane"

"Are they linked to her?"

Webbie feels herself sweat, they dont even have to say who.

She knows its her.

Miguel sighs "Theres no way of confirming....Other than the bigger work load she hasn't been causing all that trouble and most of the events have been docile so there isn't a huge issue"

"Alright then, over and out"

She looks at her hands and back at Miguel thinking about the entire exchange between the two, did she really want those tangerines?

Webbie didn't belong here. Period.

Where would she go to?

She's so close to-

Miguel sighs, grabbing a picture frame, Webbie peaks her head inside more to get a better look.

It was a little girl, who she assumes is either a little sister or daughter.

He was looking at her so longingfully.

With such.

Solemnes.

And longingful eyes as he plays a clip of a little girl and him playing soccer.

Webbie stands there for ten minutes watching Miguel replay the same clip over and over when she feels like she's intruded.

Well she has obviosly intruded, but alcohol has made her placid to stay in place.

She backtracks her steps and makes loud stomps with her feet to the door.

With a a sigh Miguel turns off the computer, returning to his stoic expression once more.

"Hi Migi-bear" There was no reply "Okay not on nick name basis. Hey, have you seen a box of tangerines anywhere?"

Miguel points to a corner, grufly saying "Right behind the table over there"

Webbie nods her head and scurries to the box, tripping on herself again causing her to slightly slide across the floor.

Miguel looks at the girl who immediately tries to sit up playing it cool by making finger guns at him "How's it going from up there"

"Are you okay?" Webbie could have sworn he almost sounded concerned, actually maybe he was, she couldnt tell.

"Of *hic* course bro-man" Why did she say that?

"Are you drunk"

"Er.....no?" He is totally falling for that.

"Do you actually think I'm falling for that"

He does a pose which can only be described as an angry old man when he finds used socks left by someone on the living rooom floor "Can you at least tie your shoe laces?"

She finally finds the box, looking back at Miguel sighing "It's a style choice..."

Webbie picks up the box and manoeuvres the box of tangerines, scooching side to side to try to get the box out of the room without dropping it.

Unsure, she gives him a slight bow for respect purposes.

Does he know its respectful?

Regardless he makes a grunt of acknowledgement.

It makes Webbie somehow.

Glad.

-

"Found the hangover meds!" Margo hands the medicine to Webbie after she requested for it after beung unable to open her packet of skittles.

She chugs the medicine down, soering at the horrible taste, but in an instant, she's sobering up.

"You good to go now?" Margo checks.

"Yeah all good" Webbie grins rubbing her head "Argh, my heads all woozy now"

"At least you decided to come here today, those tangerines should be ripe in a day or two"

Webbie frowns "But I'm hungry right now for them"

"They're going to taste like rubber"

Webbie groans picking up the heavy box "The last time I came over there was only like six tangerines, you guys need to inform me if there's another tangerine lover out there"

Margo types out Hobie's universe's serial number and opens the portal "Actually Miguel ordered those for you"

"...He did?"

"Yeah, he got them sent in last week. Said you would and I quote 'Bother everyone' if you didn't have these"

"He does have a point" Webbie says trying not to think to much about Miguel as Margo hugs her and makes her way to the portal "See you next time Marge"

"Webbie you got my name wrong-"

But she's already gone into the portal

She smiles to herself.

She did a bunch of things today.

Got a phone.

Met new people.

Saw her two babes, Margo and Malala.

Got tangerines.

A job well done.

She didn't even flinch when she got out of the portal this time, becoming a normal thing.

Webbie groans as she placed the box of fruit down on the floor with her entire body bending forward.

"Ow- My back" She yells out, holding her back like an old man in his late sixties "My backkkkkkkkk"

Once she felt less sore, she plops herself on the couch, looking at the time. It was about four in the morning.

No sign of Hobie yet, she shrugged it off and slept off.

When she woke up, she didn't realize how hungry she was until she remembered she just ate a singular hasbrown and one skittle.

Yes a singular skittle, because she left the rest at spider society.

She nags herself in the miror for the mistake after ransacking Hobies house realizing that she might need to get a job because there was little to no edible food in the fridge anymore.

Webbie thinks back of the other week when she suggested to go out but was hit with an immediate 'Naur bruv'

Something about being unsure, which was a rare thing for Hobie to say considering his whole 'I break rules' agenda.

Webbie walks over to the box of Tangerines and Peels, one open with her hands "I know Margo said these aren't ripe, but meh"

It tasted like the balls you got at the gumball machine.

She should have listened to Margo.

They were indeed, not ripe.

This was an insult to all tangerines.

Webbie sighs, chucking the horrible tasting fruit into the bin, looking in the cabinet realizing the monstrosity she might have to eat.

-

It was approximately eight thirty into the night when Hobie walks back into the house tiredly.

He was not prepared to see the horror movie in front of him.

"What the hell are you eating?"

Hobie is home, and he is unamused.

Webie looks at him, taking another bite her food "Cereal"

"I can clearly see that, but it's what you eating it with"

"I- what the bloody hell are you doing?"

Hobie was very blunt with his question, and he looked like he just wanted the answer.

He was also a little disturbed from the cereal with water, and he raised an eyebrow.

Webbie just continues eating making faces while reading the newspaper "Not my fault you don't have milk....or any other edible stuff"

"Couldn't you eat it dry?"

"Yeah but it wouldn't be the same"

Hobie sighs "But...why?

"It was either this or gastric" she says, taking another aggressive bite.

Hobie is about to say something but she flails her hands around "But don't worry about it! I totally can live off this, Maybe I should get a job?"

"And feed this capitalistic society?" He scoffs.

"I'm litrally free loading here. I don't know why Miguel won't let me just stay at the spider society?"

"He did say you were distracting the rest of 'em with your annoying stories"

"My stories are not annoying!" She yells defensively but sooner realizes the true power of her storytelling bullshitery "But they do, in fact, distract the people...."

He signals her to his window "You know what? Let's go get some groceries"

Webbie nods excitedly, throwing away the watered soggy cereal into the sink.

Hobie chuckles as she hobbles to him wearing her shoes and helps her up the balcony which Webbie found odd since they used the door earlier.

"Question" Webbie asks, looking down from the rooftop.

"Proceed"

"How are we getting to said store if we are supposed to get on the store on the roof-"

Hobie wiggles his wrist to her direction.

"Oh yeah..." Webbie takes a moment to process what this means "Oh yeah! Wait, so this means I'm getting one for myself? I don't even have the upper body strength like you, spider people. I've watched this one cartoon called invincible and my arm will totally-"

Webbie realizes she's rambling and stops to wait for Hobie to make any sound of annoyance.

But he's just watching her patiently adjusting his web shooters "Gonna keep going, bug?"

Webbie scratches her head "I mean, I totally could but I'm reading the air so I'm gonna let you speak"

He clicks something on his wrist "Alright then, you cool with me holding yer waist?"

"Uhm why?"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes but why?"

"We're gonna swing there"

"Swing? Swing as in you're gonna" Webbie makes finger motions "Pew pew us there?"

Hobie nods.

"Excuse me for one moment" Webbie turns around and squeals before turning back to Hobie with a stone cold expression, offering her hand like a little lady in movies "I am ready"

He grabs it with as muxh grace before hoist her arm around his shoulders "Don't puke on the way there"

"Now this is a targeted insult to-ME!" Webbie says as Hobie runs at full speed and shoots his webs to a building and jumps off the roof.

Webbie has a tight grip on him.

Thankfully, his grip is tighter as he swings from building to building.

Though she feels the motion sickness coming through.

She can't help but hold a wonder look at the cars and buildings that she passes by.

It was almost surreal looking at the people go on their day.

Hobie lands behind an aly, taking of his mask and throwing on a bomber jacket quickly.

Webbie could definitely see Hobie in those fashion changing magic shows.

Where the lady would wear a horrendoes leapord dress one minute, and the next moment, she was wearing a ballroom dress.

The only difference between them was spandex, and a hint of punk and grunge.

Other than that, there are totally no differences.

They walk into a little quaint conner shop, Hobie seems to know the owner and gives him a little dap on the shoulder.

"Pick out some stuff" Hobie says to Webbie, handing her a basket.

Her eyes follow him as he picks up a carton of milk "You say that like you have a bunch of cash"

"I don't" He chuckles, going to pick out some fruit "Did I tell you that I was briefly a runway model"

"You need to stop getting cooler" Webie's places her hands on her hips, trying to imitate a model's pose.

Or at least that's what he thinks, with her odd pose.

"Want me to teach you some stuff?"

Webbie inhales and does a little hand spasm motion, staring at Hobie excitedly nodding.

Hobie and her stayed at the same spot, simply conversing about posing techniques.

"And you gotta strut your hips and make sure you put your chin up- No, not that up"

Webbie currently looked like a disoriented baby flamingo trying to replicate to various vouges magazine poses.

"You look lopsided"

"No, I'm doing it right. Your head is just lopsided" She says confidently as her legs cross each other, on the verge of falling on the floor.

"They're not-"

The owner clapped his hands to their direction "As much as I love to watch two people bond, I've gotta close up so if you lads could wrap it up"

"Right right" Hobie grabbed a few more things and was ready to pay "You would be a horrible runway model"

"That's why I'd be an amazing story teller duh"

Hobie nods along and pays for the groceries heading to the back aly again to put on his mask and offers a hand "If the lady would mind"

"Why thank you gentleman-" She tries to finish her sentence but he's already grabbing her waist and swinging without warning it almost seems to be on purpose to get a reaction out of her.

Her thoughts are replaced with the slight motion sickness.

Through the piss smelling city she finds solance in his shoulder.

"You enjoying the view?" Hobie says swinging.

"Yeah! Pleugh" She shouts, spitting out some stuff from her mouth that was probably bugs "Totally!"

Hobie takes a glance at the girl in his arms, whose eyes are barely open, trying to get used to the swinging.

He let's his gaze linger, slowing down as she slowly peels herself from his shoulder to look at the view.

Webbies eyes lit up like starlight, which was obviously scientifically impossible but it did.

Hobie just watches the many emotions on her face.

He decides to take the longer route home this time, swinging through the more lit parts of town.

She smiles like she just found out her favourite cartoon got rebooted.

Regardless, Hobie decides to make new tech for her.

Was the city that good to have Webbie gleaming?

But also maybe it was.

He ought to appreciate it more often.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

“Always Remember (the burning embers)” by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Captain Swan Rating: General Word Count: 1380 Summary: Killian and Emma have a late night conversation about careless words that've left their scars Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, one shot, post canon, canon compliant, fix-it-fic, missing moment Author’s notes: I've been planning this fic for a little while here, since sometime during season 5. The title is based on the taylor swift song "the great war," which I feel nicely sums up Killian and Emma during the Dark Ones arc, though this fic takes place probably a couple years later. Taglist:@zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64@tiganasummertree@anmylica@teamhook@undercaffinatednightmare@gingerchangeling@lonelyspectator@caught-in-the-filter  @ultraluckycatnd  @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 Killian had gotten so used to waking up next to Emma that it always felt weird when he didn't- especially when it was two A.M., and she'd been right there when he fell asleep, and now she wasn't.

 At first, he suspected maybe she'd gone to the bathroom or to get a drink of water or something like that- but then he saw her, sitting at the foot of the bed, seeming a touch unwell.

 "Is something wrong, love?" he whispered.

 She turned around, a bit startled.

 "I didn't realize you were still up."

 "Love, it's two in the morning," he said, "have you been awake this whole time?"

 "I guess," Emma said.

 "What's wrong, love?"

 "Nothing," she shook her head.

 He knew her better than to believe that.

 "What's wrong?" he repeated.

 "Nothing important." Emma said, quickly.

 "Emma," he said, hoping his soft tone could soften whatever armor she'd been crafting, "if you're up thinking about it at two in the morning, it must be important. What's wrong?"

 She sighed, and glanced back at him for a moment- and in that moment he nodded to her, like you'd nod to an injured animal to ask it to trust you, to tell her, "Go on. Let me help you."

 "It still feels like a fairy tale," she said.

 Rather than try and read into that statement, he simply asked for clarification.

 "What does?"

 "All of it," she said, in a whispered breath like an angry laugh, "you, Henry, my parents, our home- our happy beginning."

 "Aye," Killian nodded, knowing she still hadn't hit the point of her problem.

 "And the problem with a fairytale is the story always ends, the book closes, and you're back to being whoever it was you were escaping from."

 "Emma," Killian crawled out from under the covers and over to the foot of the bed so he could sit next to her, "what we have here is real, and it's not going away."

 "I know," Emma shook her head, "and I'm trying so hard to believe that."

 "What's stopping you?"

 She shrugged. "Myself. For someone whose job is happy endings, I'm pretty good at destroying my own."

 "What's that supposed to mean, love?" Killian asked, trying to sound reassuring and not like that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

 "I…." she shook her head.

 "You don't need to push me away, love."

 "That's just the thing- that's what I do," she shook her head, "I push people away- people I love."

 And she tacked on, on top of it all, so softly he almost didn't hear it: "and that's why I'll always be an orphan."

 "Emma, love," he said, carefully but desperately turning her face to his, "where did you get such a ridiculous idea?"

 She pushed away physically this time, shaking her head and turning away from him.

 "I'm glad you don't remember," she said, almost smiling.

 "Remember what?"

 "It's nothing."

 "It's not," he insisted, his voice raising above a whisper for the first time that night, "talk to me."

 Her eyes almost seemed the blue ones for all the tears they held back as she looked up at him. He wanted to help her, wanted to dry the tears she was afraid to cry, wanted to clean up the mess she was afraid to spill, and wanted to make everything right for her. That's all he ever wanted for Emma, to be that for her, to be the one she could turn to no matter what she was facing- to be the one who made her burdens lighter.

 "The conversation at Regina's," Emma took a deep breath, "back when we were Dark Ones."

 He'd tried so hard to purge those awful memories, choosing to dwell on their happy moments instead of ones like that, those moments where they didn't trust each other, where they closed themselves off to each other, where they argued with each other….

 "That moment when I told her she'd always be an orphan," He recalled, "her pain now is my fault."

 He didn't know what to say now. All he knew how to do was throw his arms around her, pull her close to him, hold her as tight as he could and choke out an "I'm sorry."

 So, that's what he did.

 "It wasn't you," Emma said, "it was the darkness. I've tried not to mention it, because I know you'd never…."

 Though he couldn't see her face (which was buried in his embrace,) he could tell by the way her voice trailed off that she was crying, and he quickly let go of his right arms' grip around her, so he could catch the tears as they rolled down her cheek.

 He knew his apology was nowhere near sufficient, but he still didn't know what to say- what could his words do to make up for such loveless atrocities?

 "I'm sorry," Emma said, "I shouldn't've brought it up. I shouldn't've mentioned it."

 "Nonsense," he said, taking her hand in his and pulling it close to his chest, "I never want you to think that a problem you have is too big to share with me. Understand?"

 She nodded. He sighed, unsure what words would tumble out after his breath.

 "I love that you're my anchor, Emma," he said, "a ship would be lost without her anchor, and I'd be lost without you. I love everything you've ever done for me. Do you know what else I love about you?"

 "What?"

 "Call me a bit of a narcissist, but I love that you're my mirror. When I see you, I see a lot of myself. I see someone who never gives up, someone who risks their life for those they love, someone who does everything they can to be a hero, no matter what mistakes they've made.

 "And when I first met you, I saw what you were," he continued, "and what I was- a lost boy, a lone wolf- an orphan. And when I said those angry dark words I wish I could take back, words I never should've said- I was talking to myself too."

 He'd never seen a perfect blend of confusion and understanding quite like the one he saw on her face now.

 "We did push people away, love. We did hide from the people who cared about us. That's why we should still be orphans. But that's not what we are anymore."

 "Why not?"

 "Because we turn to the people we love. We've set aside our armor and chosen something new."

 "What's that?"

 "Trust."

 Still holding her hand close to his heart, he instead brought it to his lips and kissed it.

 "Emma Swan, you will never be an orphan again. That's not who you are anymore. You're the Savior. You're my True Love, my happy beginning and ending and everything in between. You're a mother and a daughter and a hero and the most perfect wife a man could ever ask for."

 "Some days I have trouble believing that," Emma shook her head, "but I believe in you."

 With the hand that he wasn't holding, Emma reached up and stroked his face, her cold hand warming against his cheek. "So if you can believe in me, I can believe in me too," she said.

 "I'm glad to hear it, love."

 "And you're not an orphan anymore either, Killian Jones," Emma said. She kissed his hand, then pulled it close to her heart, "You're my family. You're my best friend. You're my true love. My hero."

 "Aye," He nestled his head against her forehead, gently, then whispered "I love you."

 "I love you too," she whispered back, "thank you."

 "Anytime, love," he said, "now, let's get back to bed."

 They both let go of each other, only so they could crawl back across to the other side of the bed. As soon as they were both under the covers, Emma slid into his arms, wrapping her own arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

 "Goodnight, my love," he said, craning his neck forward so he could kiss her forehead.

 "Goodnight, Killian." She replied, sounding sleepy but satisfied.

 And with that, Killian fell asleep the only way that felt natural anymore- with Emma in his arms.

[one-winged-dreams]

Habits

ship: (adriel x yone) source: league of legends (Heartsteel-verse) word count: 726

I had to pump out Yone content somehow, I'm so fucking rabid over that GIF I can't even be tsundere about him. Hearsteel!Adri can though! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @edencantstopfallininlove @sosoftandsweet @faerie-circle-ships @dorothys-wife

"You need to talk to Kayn about his social media habits."

Yone's attention was diverted to the side, where Adriel was dutifully typing away at his laptop. His gaze hadn't lifted from the screen, but when did he ever give any more attention than was needed when it didn't have to do with his work?

"I think that's something you should take up with Alune?" he smiled good-naturedly arching an eyebrow. The fact that he was talking to him at all was nice, Adriel's love language was just being in the same general space as him, usually. Not that Yone minded the silence, knowing this was the case.

This time, Adriel's typing ceased, and he looked up.

"He's more likely to listen to you. You're more of an influence on the boys," it was ambiguous if this was more of a statement than a compliment. Sighing, he then placed a hand to his temple. "What am I saying? This is a pointless endeavor, forget I said anything."

Yone shrugged, his smile widening. "Kayn will be Kayn. You could try talking to Rowena instead, maybe she can subliminally message him into at least holding back juuuust a little."

A breath through Adriel's nose was an expression of annoyed amusement, at least, Yone HOPED it was amusement.

"MAYBE," was his only reply.

Unable to help himself from chuckling at that, Yone stood, moving across the room to sit on the couch next to Adriel and resting his head against the top of the other's.

"I did rope you into this, so I have to apologize. You've got your hands full, don't you?"

Adriel didn't make any sort of expression as he returned to his work, but he didn't move away either.

"I knew what I was getting into. You never change, Yone," he paused and then looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "For better or for worse."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment. So, what if I make this little incident up to you?" Yone was now so bold as to wrap an arm around Adriel, whose gaze had returned to the screen.

"Right here?" came his deadpan reply.

Bursting into full-on laughter, Yone shook his head.

"No no, that's not what I meant. Good to know you didn't say no immediately, though," he mused and then gave a kiss to those raven locks. When Adriel's hair hung loose, he could smell that rose water shampoo all the better.

"What, then?" Adriel sighed, closing his laptop. This was looking more and more promising.

Yone moved forward, tilting his head off to the side to better look him in the face.

"Come to dinner with me? In about… Right now?" his eyes narrowed as he offered a charming smile, delighting in the way Adriel's face flushed ever so slightly despite the lack of change in expression.

And Adriel stared that deadpan stare for a moment. And then he sighed.

"I told Bee I'd meet her in an hour," he started, holding up a finger as Yone opened his mouth to speak. "But she has a key. I'll just tell her to wait for me. She'll find Ez eventually, and then it's out of my hands, I guess."

Again, Yone laughed, standing and being so gentlemanly as to hold his hand out to help Adriel stand.

"Enabler," he teased.

Adriel accepted the assistance and then shrugged as he smoothed down his skirt.

"Well I want the boys to have fulfilling love lives, you know. I'm just romantic like that, I guess," his voice was as deadpan as his expression despite the statement, and when he looked up, Yone was leaning over him, inches from his face.

"And would you say YOU were feeling fulfilled right now?" he all but purred.

This little action broke the dam, and Adriel's eyes widened, his blush returning two-fold.

"I'm…"

"Mhhh?" Yone's fingers were at his chin now, tilting his face upward so that they were in clear, obvious kissing range.

"I…" Adriel started again... Before sighing and ducking down and past Yone. "We'll see after you buy me a nice dessert, too," he huffed, waving a hand as he began to walk to the car without bothering to wait.

Only a little disappointed, Yone laughed, grabbing his keys off the table.

"And then something sweet after that, maybe."

[raurusthirdeye]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

Holy Hylia! My first time being tagged by someone else, and that someone is the lovely @haste-waste! You should all go read her stuff, it's top notch! I guess that means I've finally made it to the big leagues, huh? Here's my last line, blending a Tangled reference with a wink and a nod to the person who inspired my own username, @zeldaseyebrows

“I’ve seen dozens of these things now,” sighed Link, shaking his head at the cartoonish Yiga wanted poster, “They just can’t get my nose right!” “Or my eyebrows, apparently,” lamented Zelda, scrutinizing the one depicting her.

Anyone who I'd tag has played this game in the last few weeks, so I'll just use this as a shout-out to all the writers and artists from the discord gang @zelinkcommunity whose works and art I've devoured this Zelink Week instead.

[thosetwofirefighters]

Chris had been begging for a sibling for years, but he guesses a pet could be a happy compromise.

hiiii beautiful anon, thank you so much!! wrote this at the beach today and had so much fun! <3

send me a sentence and i'll write the next five whatever it inspires

read on AO3

Chris has been begging for a sibling for years, but he guesses a pet could be a happy compromise. Despite his insistence that his dad and Buck have been raising him together for years now—a fact neither of them have disputed—they’ve repeatedly shot down Chris’ arguments that now that they’re finally officially together, they should give Chris the sibling he’s been asking for for ages. He wants someone he could always play with, someone whose side he’ll always be on—he wants to be a big brother, but Dad and Buck always say it’s too soon, too early in their relationship. Chris thinks it’s dumb—they’ve been together for years, even though they weren’t technically dating until recently.

Still, a pet seems like a happy compromise, so they end up at the West Los Angeles Animal Shelter so Chris can pick out a new family member. As much as he wants a sibling, he’s always wanted a dog as well. He’d tried asking his dad for one when they first moved to LA but had been told they couldn’t afford one. Now that Buck has finally moved into their home though, they’ve got extra funds to put towards a new pet.

“Are you sure you want a dog, Chris?” asks Eddie, warily looking down the hall towards the kennels. “We could get a cat instead. Or a lizard! I’m sure lizards are fun to play with.”

“Lizards are cool, but we can see them at the zoo whenever we want! And no, Eds, they aren’t fun to play with,” Buck argues.

Chris giggles. “You said we could get any pet I want, and I want a dog. I’ve wanted a dog.”

Dad nods, but he’s got his grumpy face on, and Chris laughs again. He knows his dad will probably end up loving the dog they adopt—they just need to find one first.

“Just because you’re a cat person doesn’t mean you won’t love our dog!” Chris continues.

Buck bounces with excitement next to him as they head toward the kennels housing the dogs. “What do you have against dogs anyway, babe?”

“Nothing!” Eddie protests. “They’re just so…much. Cats are easy, you know? Feed ‘em, give ‘em a litter box, and you’re good to go. I don’t know if I’m gonna be a good dog dad.”

Chris shakes his head but doesn’t say anything, letting Buck take the reins on reassuring Dad. The idea that he could suck at owning a dog is ridiculous—he’s the best dad Chris could’ve asked for, other than Buck (they’re tied), so he knows their new dog will love him. They just have to.

They slowly make their way down the rows of kennels, Chris smiling and saying hi to every dog they pass while Buck continues reassuring his dad that it’ll be fine. All of the dogs are cute, and the shelter employee quietly following them has assured them that they’re all friendly, but none of them stick out to him—none of them seem right—until they reach a kennel almost at the end of the room, where a dog’s nose sticks as far out of the kennel that he can push it, eagerly waiting for the Buckley-Diaz family to reach him and give him some attention. His tail wags tirelessly when Chris stops in front of him, and he whines sweetly for attention, gazing up at him.

“Can I pet him?” Chris asks, looking at the employee, whose name tag identifies her as Kira.

She nods, saying, “His name is Thor, and he’s the sweetest thing. He’s been here for months though—he’s part pit bull, so people just assume he’s aggressive when that’s the furthest from the truth.”

Chris turns back to Thor, holding his hand out for the dog to sniff. Thor snuffles against his hand before licking the entire length of it, causing Chris to shriek with laughter before sticking his hand through the bars of the kennel to scritch the top of Thor’s head.

Thor leans into the touch, his head warm against Chris’ fingers, big eyes practically pleading with Chris to take him home. His butt shakes with the force of his tail wagging, and Chris grins widely at him before turning toward his dads. Buck has a look of pure awe on his face, smiling softly at Chris and Thor. He replaces Chris’ hand with his own, petting Thor when Chris pulls away. Dad looks more reluctant, but Chris thinks seeing him interact with Thor has softened his attitude about this whole thing.

“Eds, introduce yourself,” Buck encourages, causing Dad to mimic Chris’ earlier actions. He reaches his hand out, allowing the dog to smell first before petting the top of his head. His expression softens even more as he pets Thor, and Chris knows this is it.

Kira unlocks the kennel for them, letting them take Thor outside to play with. They play fetch, which turns into tug of war, Thor not letting go until Dad takes over for Chris. Buck takes pictures with his phone the whole time, documenting their first meeting.

Eventually Chris says, “Can we keep him?” and turns on his puppy dog eyes that he knows his parents can’t resist.

“We already agreed to get a pet, bud, so if he’s the one you want, he’s ours,” Buck says, grinning.

Chris nods animatedly before throwing his arms around Thor and hugging him tightly. “I want him!” he says. “I love him so much already!”

Kira smiles at them, handing Dad a clipboard with some forms on it. Chris drowns them out when they start talking about boring stuff—what food to get him, vet recommendations—choosing to continue playing with Thor instead.

Soon enough, Dad disappears inside with Kira, returning a few minutes later with a leash. “He’s all ours,” he says, and Chris screams with excitement. “Ready to take him home?”

[astrabear]

my labor, and my leisure too (pt. 3)

The final installment! Even longer than the second one! At some point I'll clean it all up and chuck it on Ao3. (Where, FYI, it will be tagged as "creator chose not to use archive warnings".)

part 1 here part 2 here

*******

It was one of the toughest weeks she could remember, partly because they all seemed to be working at cross purposes. Some of them were trying to refine the current plan while others were trying to find any reason to abandon it. No one wanted to admit that a decision had been made, while at the same time wanting to spend as much time with Nicky and Joe as they could. Joe and Nicky, in turn, seemed torn between wanting time alone together and wanting to maintain their usual routine. It was, unsurprisingly, impossible to say goodbye while also acting as though everything was normal.

Nile woke up each morning feeling nauseated and numb. It all felt unreal, like there was a glitchy forcefield between her and her surroundings. No one slept or ate enough. They needed to be in top condition; there were too many ways this could go wrong, and she couldn’t bear the thought of… of whatever happened, being for nothing. She tried to set a good example, and she could see that Nicky and Joe were trying too, but there was a limit to how much any of them could choke down their food or hide their exhaustion.

Gert cornered her after a few days of this. “I thought we were going to keep talking,” they said angrily. “I thought it wasn’t settled yet. Everyone is sure acting like it’s been settled.”

Nile was too tired and heartsick to be diplomatic. “Sure, we can talk. What do you have to say that hasn’t already been said? Have you managed to find some ingenious plan that we previously overlooked? Or maybe you’ve got something that will convince the two of them that their lives are worth more than however many thousands of people will be helped by this?” What the hell, Freeman, they’re not even sixty years old yet, what are you doing? Pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That came out worse than I meant it to. But it’s true – we’ve got to give them a reason.”

“How’s this for a reason? We get to make choices too. It isn’t just up to them. We can choose not to go along. We can scrap the mission ourselves.”

It was a thought Nile’d had herself more than once, so she knew how to respond. “Okay. Do you think their lives are worth more than all those thousands of people?” She wanted to say yes. Yes, they are worth all that and more. Yes, I would gladly trade thousands of strangers whose faces I’ll never see for my two oldest friends. Gert’s eyes blazed, and she knew they wanted to say it too.

Neither of them did. The fire in Gert’s eyes died out, and they looked away.

“I get it,” Nile said as comfortingly as she could, “I really do. I was about your age when Andromache died.”

“But that was years. Decades. Right? You didn’t just…” they waved their hand vaguely. Send her off to die.

“Decades, yeah. Decades of worrying about her, wondering each time if that job would be the last. Practicing more field medicine than I ever expected to learn. Watching over her in hospital rooms. She wasn’t interested in retirement either.”

“So was it…worse like that? Compared to now, I mean. Or better?”

There wasn’t a lot that Nile remembered from back then. Impressions, feelings. A few still images, a handful of memories seared into her brain with holovid clarity. Smiles and laughter and tears and blood.

She sighed. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No,” said Gert. “I guess it doesn’t.”

...

By the time of their scheduled update meeting at the end of the week, they were all running on empty. All of them but Jerrah had gathered in the briefing room, and Nile couldn’t bring herself to either page him over the comms system or start the meeting without him. The other four shuffled awkwardly, waiting for someone to do or say something. Nile just stared at her hands. She felt heavy, as though someone had cranked up the artificial gravity too high. Even raising her eyes to look around the room was too much.

At last, Lijie cleared her throat and said, “We’ve been going through the notes and things. Gert and I. And we uh… we haven’t found – “

Jerrah stumbled into the room, out of breath. “Hey, sorry I’m late. But I have an idea.”

...

They missed their window, but the asteroid’s path gave them another one a few months later. Nicky and Joe fretted at the delay, but to Nile it looked like they were sleeping and eating better. It was a relief to see that they were not so set on martyrdom that they’d object to slowing down a mission that had already stretched out so long.

Jerrah kept them all too busy to brood anyway. By the time the next window approached, Joe and Nicky had armor that provided more protection, with less weight and stiffness, than Nile had ever programmed into her simulations. She couldn’t get him to admit it, but she was pretty sure that he had invented an entirely new material to do it. It could, possibly, help them survive the explosion.

Especially in combination with the miniature gravity modulators he embedded in their boots. They weren’t very strong, and they’d run out of power quickly. But a few minutes of lower gravity to help them run faster might get them far enough from the blast to make a difference. A few minutes of higher gravity after the blast might keep them on or near the ground until the atmospheric dome reformed and the artificial gravity came back on. The auto-pressurization function already in their helmets might keep them alive during that time too.

Maybe. Possibly.

Nile got Jerrah alone once - after Nicky twisted his ankle training with the boots and spent the rest of the day complaining about how long the muscle knitter took to work - to ask if all this new equipment lowered the risk enough that someone who was still healing could set up the explosives after all.

He looked at her solemnly and asked, “How low would the risk have to be, for you to send one of us in to do it?” She thought about spinning off into space, never slowing, never found. Quỳnh had said she’d felt her lungs fill with water with each revival, so did that mean coming back to life with one breath of air already inside? Would your lungs explode immediately each time, once the helmet system gave out? Or would you have a whole 15 seconds to contemplate your situation before the hypoxia knocked you out? She knew the odds of passing near enough to something large enough to have gravity were so low as to be basically zero, but if you did…? What if you got burned up by a star, or incinerated falling through a planet’s atmosphere? What if you regenerated on a planet that couldn’t support life? What if…?

Jerrah must have seen all that in her face. He nodded his understanding. “Not that low. Not nearly that low. This isn’t a guarantee of anything. Or even much of a probability, if I’m honest. It’s just a…”

“A hope?”

“Or a wish. I’m sorry.”

She squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Don’t be sorry. It’s more than we had before.”

She turned to walk away, but he called her back. “Nile. Don’t tell them.”

“I won’t. I’m pretty sure they already know.”

...

The security system didn’t extend to the edge of the atmospheric dome; it didn’t need to. The sensor buoys would detect anything approaching the asteroid anyway. Except, as the team had worked out, when the alignment of the buoys was just right relative to the other asteroids in the belt, a small enough object (such as their shuttle) transmitting the right kind of energy pulse (they’d retrofitted an emergency beacon months ago) could follow a very narrow and intricate course (painstakingly programmed by Nicky and Lijie) and land in one particular spot, just a few degrees of the dome’s circumference. And it would not be detected.

The shuttle flight was less excruciating than Nile had expected. There wasn’t as much banter as usual, but there was some. What there was not, was the suffocating dread of that first week. They’d had a nice dinner the night before that was very pointedly not a goodbye party or an anticipatory wake, although there had been a lot more hugging and hand-holding and significant looks than their dinners generally included. Everyone looked tired (but not exhausted) and determined. And if, whenever they weren’t too busy, Nicky and Joe held hands so tightly their knuckles turned white… well, Nile would deny disproportionately assigning them tasks that didn’t require both hands.

The only small hiccup came when they landed and everyone scrambled into their gear. Joe and Nicky hung back a little, moving slowly. Oh, she thought, gloves and helmets. Of course. She herded the others out of the shuttle to give them some privacy. From the corner of her eye she saw them lean their foreheads together, and she hurriedly shut the hatch behind her. She didn’t need to see how they spent the last moments in which they could touch each other.

Once they were in formation with the others, they were as focused and ready as they'd ever been. Joe and Nicky, side by side, she thought, with all their friends around them. How they've always been, how they want it to always be. She took point and settled herself firmly in her body, in the present moment. For more than two millennia, if there was a job in front of Nile Freeman, Nile Freeman did that job.

She allowed herself one last moment to think, you never know, if immortality is real then anything is possible. Sometimes the universe is kind. But if there has to be an ending, I guess this one's not so bad.

Then Jerrah’s tablet beeped, signaling that the security system had gone offline. She unholstered her sidearm and started walking, knowing they'd all follow. "All right, people. Let's do some good."

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko Ch1. Replay 7

Switched to the Switch version, so that's why everything looks different.

This is the first time Battler steps in to argue and it's funny how he pushes the direction in a wronger direction.

Though yeah he's entirely right at this point, considering you know, she can't explain that because she was in fact aiding the murderer.

And this unwillingness is what's going to lead to 4 episodes of Battler struggling to understand anything until it's too late

Guess she can't keep pushing without drawing suspicion to herself, even if she wants to.

Eva felt a little bit too safe just because she's an accomplice and it definitely bit her in the ass later, Rosa's a bit more careful about this next chapter.

I imagine red flags blaring on her head as soon as Eva heard that

To be fair that is indeed mostly correct! Even if you are really grasping at straws here

Getting second thoughts about becoming an accomplice and your motives behind that decision, Eva?

You are definitely a big enabler of the worst of Eva's impulses, Hideyoshi, though you can definitely see how much Eva appreciated her family despite her faults and how that grief will end up destroying her post-1986

A bit of foreshadowing at how much Maria is ignored by her mom

You already did that Battler!

I remember this mystery seeming so impossible for me when I first played... but the answer really was as easy as the door was never locked at all. Of course, I didn't get the hint that the narrative lied to me at the time, so, it felt a lot harder than it was!

Interesting how the only 2 people to see the butterflies in this episode were Shannon and Kanon - and how this one happened right after the scene where Kanon discovers a "locked room" - I think you are supposed to look at how this scene couldn't possibly have happened in reality and look at previous scenes with Kanon

This monologue being given by Kanon is very interesting, Kanon defeating Beatrice seems to represent a 'defeat' in Yasu's mind of what Kanon is saying, that they ARE furniture and the death of the last bit of resistance they had in carrying out the plan.

Yeah I bet she's laughing her ass off at how she's gonna prank everyone

He definitely tries to, at least!

Aw, wouldn't have minded seeing these 2 bond a bit more

Jessica tagging along was probably a bit annoying for Yasu!

Seems Natsuhi is a little bit relieved they will be able to pin Kinzo's death on something else, though also alarm bells should be ringing in her head about how the culprit is probably a servant here...

Yes! Follow that line of thought Battler, whose corpse wasn't seen very well?

It's more like dying is what she's looking for Battler...

Also, this scene plays a new song for the Saku version of the game now and it's really good!

If Yasu is hearing this, they are probably very split between both the love and hate Jessica is showing them, huh? Though they might just see it as further proof they can't be loved for who they are as a whole - only parts of them can be.

Maria's probably right, though, even if at this point Maria told George who Beatrice is, they won't believe her.

Maria....

Huh, the gang locking themselves up in Kinzo's room was part of Yasu's plan... I guess Yasu was hopeful doing the risky play would force Battler to finally figure out what's going on

This is gonna be a recurring theme Battler, for a loooong while.

Battler actually gets the right idea a surprising amount of times in this chapter, it's just that he's unable to commit to any theory.

Seems Nanjo Genji and Kumasawa are all feeling guilty and remember their role in enabling Kinzo with regards to Beatrice 2

We are pretty close to the end now so I'll probably finish this up tomorrow or so, though the tea party might take me another day even if I don't remember it being very long.