#WAIT NO 3 IS MAKE IT SOUND YELLOW-ORANGE

[calummss]

Eye of the Beholder | Penelope Featherington

masterlist

summary: you had liked penelope for as long as you could remember and watched her change for someone else. at least so you thought

pairing: sapphic! penelope featherington x lesbian! reader

words: 1k

a/n: i <3 penelope sm and needed a wlw imagine so bad. spent 1 hour on this so if it’s bad i apologise but it’s 4am and i couldn’t sleep without finishing this story

“Pen!” You called out from the Featherington’s hallway. “Make haste, we are already late. Madame Delacroix promised us those fabrics from Paris and I am in desperate need of new garments.”

Farleigh raised her eyebrows at you but remained silent as she glanced up the stairs to see if Penelope had heard the lady shout from downstairs; improper manners but being late to an appointment was far more rude.

Penelope eventually made it downstairs wearing her bright yellow dress. Penelope hated the citrus colours her mamma always had her wear. You thought it rather suited her. It was a happy colour indeed and she looked the kindest in them. The details were too much—you agreed with Pen on that but she looked beautiful in any colour. How could she not? She had hair, orange like the sunsets over London; rosy cheeks that matched her fiery hair; when she was embarrassed or vexed, feeling too hot or cold, the apples of her cheeks would shine bright alike. She was so very bewitching but you could never tell her. It was unheard of—a woman in love with another? No one ever even uttered a word of queer affections. So you stayed silent and admired her from afar.

“Ready?”

“Indeed.” She beamed, taking your arms and headed towards the carriage that waited outside.

At the Modiste you eyed a pink fabric that Madame Delacroix had laid out for you. Pink like little piglets and flowers, decorated with the most marvellous design of glitter. Penelope had strayed away from the citrus colour and asked Madame Delacroix for the latest fabric from Paris that weren’t orange or yellow.

“Do you think it wise to alter your mamma’s signature colours?” You asked.

“I simply do not understand her fixation on citrus colours. ‘Happy’ colours indeed but it makes me look washed out. Sick even. It is not for me.”

“I think you look pretty.”

“You might be the only one in Mayfair who thinks so.”

“I doubt so,” you walked towards the mirror to stand opposite Penelope, “but if you must know, those colours Madam Delacroix chose rather suit you quite well..”

“You think so?” You swear you saw a tinkle in her eyes.

“Yes.”

Madame Delacroix promised Penelope six new gowns, one to be done in two days time just in time for Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. It was both Pen’s and yours third season out with no prospects to show. Either men were too interested in you or not. Believed you to be some kind of dog they could just tell about. And with your conveyed feelings you weren’t even quite sure you wanted a love match with a man. A woman sounded much more pleasing but out of reach. Your family; your papa, mamma and younger sister knew of your unwise choices and savoured the word of acceptance over and over again but that it was a fantasy that could never be real. That you had to marry a man and that it would be easier to forget. Society liked women in brothels that performed together. Was queer love only good for the pleasure of others?

It was even harder knowing that Penelope felt for Colin Bridgerton. He barely eyed her and yet her affections were in a box with a key only he could open. Penelope had grown more silent on the matter and not staring too much out of her window. It was odd for Pen not to stare into Bridgerton house but you couldn’t blame her. A flame only lasted so long.

At the ball you had waited by the food table in hopes of Penelope finding you. The two of you enjoyed being stuck to the wall and observing the ton. The most peculiar things did happen when one thought no one was around to see. You saw the Featherington’s arrive when you noticed that Penelope hadn’t taken her cape off and when the staff helped her remove it, Pen stood on top of the stairs like a fallen angel. The green complimented her well. Well was an understatement. It was unmatched. You weren’t even able to get to Pen as the suitors went up one by one.

When the suitors did eventually leave, Cressida had walked up in the same moment and you saw her purposely edging the heel of her foot into her fabric so that when Pen tried to come towards you, her gown had ripped.

“How mortifying! I am so clumsy. My deepest apologies.” She said, cruelty marking her every word.

Penelope stared at you and without warning rushed outside. You followed her after telling Cressida off, hoping she would one day learn her lesson.

Outside Pen started weeping, a sight you wished you wouldn’t have to witness.

“Pen, I am so sorry.”

“I am the laughing stock of the ton even when I change my entire wardrobe!”

“You didn’t have to change to begin with.”

“All night I waited to be noticed. To be admired but who could I blame?” She let out a concealed sigh with a laugh.

“Pen,” you grabbed her hands, “I saw Colin look at you. I am very sure he was engaged by your charm.”

“Colin?” Pen pulled her hands back. “Who said I’m talking about Colin?”

“Are we not?” You asked carefully.

“No, I am talking about you!” She shouted, her chest rising and falling.

“What?” You mumbled.

“All day,” she breathed out, “I waited to be beholden by you. To see you gaze at me in a way that is considered forbidden but you didn’t.”

“I—“

“Nevermind, I should have never said what I said. I’m-a-fool-and-should’ve-stayed-quiet-and—“

“Shut up.” You muttered before kissing Penelope.

A momentarily calmness came over Penelope as she melted into the kiss. You had grabbed her by the face and pulled her in. Her hands held your wrists and she kissed you back so softly, unsure if the kiss was reality or fantasy.

“You have kissed me,” Pen pulled back.

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“I’m not sure, I—“

“Kiss me again.”

And she did. With the same tenderness as before as you nervously waited for the carriage to arrive and to take you two home.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 4: Stalking/Obsession

Stalking/Obsession - Eyeless Jack X F!Reader

Warnings: DUB CON, breeding kink, biting, marking

AN: I don't speak Polish so forgive me </3. ALSO this is a take on my dear @creepynoodleheadcannons's prompt featuring EJ on Day 19 from their 2022 Kinktober. Will tag the fic HERE.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

In the darkness of your room, you sat curled in your sheets with the feeling of dread coursing through your veins. Sweat ran down your brow, down the back of your neck and soaked your bed as you stared at your window. You saw his shadow looming just outside, a monstrous being that had been tormenting you for the first half of the year. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a little rabbit about to be caught in the jaws of a wolf as his claws scratched against it. 

He’d never been so bold before. 

When he first started, he was silent. His sharp claws played with the seams of your mind, delicately lifting the fragile threads before popping them up and breaking them, reveling in the sound of the strings snapping. It was small. A coffee cup you’d thrown away with your lipstick marks had gone missing but you assumed you’d managed to throw it out somewhere else. The hairs from your brush had been cleaned out but weren’t in the trash. Some of your clothing had gone missing. You assumed that you were becoming increasingly forgetful, but your underwear going missing? Your still full shampoo and conditioner bottles disappearing? 

And then he revealed himself. You thought you’d accidentally summoned a demon when he first appeared in the corner of your eye. He was always there, watching, waiting, and so fucking persistent. The way he spoke about you was deranged, like you were the only thing he craved in the entirety of his life. He spoke of how sweet you’d be - his final meal, the feast to end all others. 

“Go… Go away,” you shakily cried out while you dug your face into the pillow in an attempt to fend him off. But you knew it was a useless attempt. Tonight was the night he’d finally make you his and devour you whole. Your body shook with fear as you watched the shadow of his hands move sluggishly, like he wawa toying with you on how slow he could be. Toying with you, building up his own anticipation with glee. You heard Polish spill from his lips, or maybe an archaic form of it, and like magic, the window flew open. It invited the colder of October air into your room, red and orange leaves spilled across your floor as his large form blocked out the light of the moon herself. 

“You don’t really mean that,” he purred. His voice was deep and laced with a Slavic accent that sung with the cadence of ancient gods and their demons. His face was hidden by a mask, a dark pool of inky blue while the eye sockets wept with tar. If you looked close enough, you could see the knife marks of where it had been carved a very, very long time ago. He slipped through your window despite his size. Your nose filled with his scent. Musk. The earth. Iron. Smoke from campfires not long doused. Ammonia. 

Your stomach wanted to wretch at the very smell of him. Fear stoked every part of your body as you pried your eyes away from your pillow and peeked up at him. He was large, much too large. The moonlight framed him as dark and imposing. He was strong, you knew that, and his skin was the color of ash. And for a creature that seemed to take joy in pursuing a much more human form, he still reeked of otherworldly. His legs were cloven, like that of a black goat, and his teeth were sharp, slightly yellowed and large like that of an apex predator. Roots and the earth seemed to crawl up his legs like the earth itself wanted to reclaim him, and his joints didn’t seem to fit him right. His elbows, his knees, shoulders, everything was popped into place haphazardly, a vessel to contain something much larger than what he was born as. 

He took advantage of your fear as you looked up at him. His grin only widened behind his mask. He crawled up your bed, caging you in with his body. His clawed hands traced your warm body as you balled up in a weak attempt to shut him out from you. 

“Please, don’t,” you murmur as you watch his clawed hands crawl up your body. “I already told you no-”

He gave you a look from behind his mask before reaching his hand upwards to remove it. His arm moved over to rest it on your nightstand, as if he were making himself comfortable. His mouth was curled upwards into a grin, large and knowing. 

“Come now, kochanie moje. Don’t be so frigid towards me. Open up. Let me in.” His sharp talons moved to cut your clothes from your body, not caring about your cries of protest. “You cannot resist me forever,” he whispered in your ear as your body trembled. “Try and fight as you may, your body calls for me, and I must answer. You were meant for this,” he breathed in your ear as you meekly held your hand up to his large chest in another attempt to push him off. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. 

“Tak kochanie,” he whispered back, “you do. I need you. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? I need your body, your heart, your mind, your very soul,” he groaned as his hand traced your soft, supple skin. “I want to breed you to make you mine forever.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as you shook like a leaf. You shook your head. “You can’t-”

“Don’t worry,” he purred once more, voice hungry and lusty, “I’ll make it feel good. I always do.” 

You were almost snapped out of your fear from the second half of his sentence but found it quickly returned when his teeth sunk into your neck. “Oh fuck!” You yelped, feeling the warm blood from your neck bead downwards to drape your collarbone and your nape. “What the hell was that for?” 

Jack didn’t immediately answer, only grinned and opened his mouth. A long, purple tongue slithered out and lapped at the teeth marks he’d left, a soft apology for drawing blood. “Mating mark,” he answered. “One of the many physical kinds I can give to you.” 

You kept your mouth shut as you felt his hands barely leave you to the belt of his pants. He undid it, and then slowly pumped his cock. Large, knotted, that was all you could see in the darkness only illuminated by the moonlight. So distracted by how girthy and large he was and the fact you KNEW he wouldn’t fit inside of you, a cry ripped free from your throat as his other hand effortlessly pried your legs apart. 

Jack’s clawed fingers easily moved down to your pussy, already wet from the budding anticipation. He cooed condescendingly. “Awh, and here I thought I would need to convince you even more.” His index and middle finger opened your lips up, and through the darkness, his sockets keyed in on your glistening pussy. “You were made for this, to please me, to be bred by me.” Slowly, he slid his index finger inside of you and watched through the darkness of your room as you bloomed for him. Heat painted your entire body, most notably your cheeks - Jack’s always had the ability to sort of ‘toggle’ thermal vision - and that’s where the heat was most notably concentrated. Well, that and definitely between your legs. Your pussy was burning for him. Needed to be filled, didn’t it? 

His index finger was soon joined by his middle, and he stretched you out as best as he could. “You feel so warm, kochanie,” he grinned. “So soft and sweet, and you smell just as good too. Maybe I should get a taste before I take you,” he thought aloud. 

Fearing retaliation, you hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” you squeaked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t help that your body seemed to call for him. Despite how much you knew this wasn’t good, your body squeezed around him. When his thumb circled your clit, you moaned softly, embarrassed that you showed him even a smidge of pleasure. He thumbed your clit some more and felt your hips buck up. 

And he laughed. Jack laughed. 

“See? I knew you couldn’t resist me.” After he fingered you a little bit more, enjoying the sounds of your soft moans and how you desperately tried to deny your true feelings towards him, he pulled his fingers out. “Do not pout,” he chuckled as he lifted his fingers to his lips. One of his tongues slithered out of his mouth once more before curling around his slick covered fingers. An obscene moan left his lips, and if he had eyes, you were sure that they would be rolling up. “Gods, you taste so good,” he praised. “So sugary and meaty,” he moaned again. “Perfectly made for me.” 

Jack mounted you this time, the head of his cock pressed against your tight lips as he watched you squirm underneath him. It was magical to see you buck your hips up like you could hardly resist him. “Open up, kochanie,” he cooed as he started to push his thick cock into you. He grinned when your nails dug into his uncovered forearms while your eyes widened. “Wrap your legs around me and breathe. Take me. Take me,” he whispered again and again, his hips pushing closer and closer to your body as his cock split you open. 

You did just that, legs wrapped tightly around his waist before moving your hands up to his back. Your nails dug into his hoodie while you pulled him tightly against you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted sharply forwards, the head of his cock hitting your cervix while not even fully hilted inside of you. His knot was thickly pressed against you, far too big for you to take, balls rested against your ass and heavy with cum. “Oh, oh my gods-” you wept as your body struggled to adjust to his size. He felt so big, every part of him. 

“Bloom for me,” he urged as he started to thrust his hips. His lips danced across your neck as he cock filled you with every thrust. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he praised, “look at you. How beautiful you are.” 

Your thighs were tense as he began to pick up the pace as you softly moaned for him, unable to deny any longer just how good Jack was making you feel. The tears that had welled in your eyes slipped down your cheeks but you unashamedly kept calling out for him. Your pussy felt so stretched open and still small as your slick gushed around him. You were soaking the bed from how good he stroked you. You arched your back slightly into his chest and tipped your head back to allow his lips to travel back up to your throat. You felt his teeth playfully move around where he’d already bitten you before softly biting you on the opposite side to mirror it. 

“You’re mine now, kochanie. Mine now forever.” The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears as he listened to your moans and how your body grew closer and closer to being knotted. He’d breed you, and then you’d have no choice but to be his for all eternity. 

[bearbunnycheetah]

🐆🐻✨CHAPTER 3: SUNNY SIDE OF THINGS✨🐻🐆

Note: Stuffs been going wild so I posted this WAYY later than I wanted, but I hope you guys still enjoy!

Percy reaches for her keys and opens the door, turning on the lights to her apartment. They flickered to life and illuminated the space. The sisters both looked inside, it was a pretty nice looking place all things considered. 

A small living room to the left with a tv, an open kitchen to the right, and what appears to be a mini hallway leading to three doors infront of them. Percy’s home had a nice dull blue wallpaper covering mostly everything. Molly looked at a clock on the wall, 10PM. Way past her bedtime at this point.

“You two need some rest, we can discuss the layout of my apartment and other things in the morning. Are you two sureyou don’t wish to take my room for the night?”

“Sleeping in someone elses room is weird.” Lorelai said, crossing her arms as she looked around.

“Yeah, we can take the couch or the floor. We don’t really mind! I promise!” Molly smiled apologetically, Lori rolled her eyes.

Percy nods. “Alright, please go ahead and sit down. I will go ahead to get some pillows and blankets for you two.” She smiles at them, then leaves the room.

Molly waits for Percy to be completely gone, then lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She sits down on the couch, then grabs her phone from her pocket. Molly opens the group chat she has with her friends, and starts typing.

—————

Molly: Hi guys, anyone still awake?

PHANTOM OF POTIONS PAST, GRIMLORD OF DARKNESS!: HIIII! Yes I am indeed awake >:]

Molly: Oh, hi Trixie! I’m assuming Feenie’s asleep cause it’s her bedtime?

PoPPGoD: Yeahh probably! Why are you up so late anyway? Did something happen?

Molly: Yeah, my dad got arrested.

PoPPGoD: WOOOOOOO! 

Molly: Trixie…

PoPPGoD: Oh whoops, sorry- what happened?

Molly: The cop that interviewed me a bit ago about the museum apparently found out about my situation and took me and Lori in. Currently in her apartment right now.

PoPPGoD: I dont trust them coppers… but as long as ur OK, im OK! >:D

Molly: Thanks Trixie… I’ll see if I can go more indepth on what happened tomorrow at school. I’m getting sleepy.

PoPPGoD: Oke, sweet dreams!

Molly: Night!

—————

Molly leans back into the sofa, then smiles. Hopefully she’ll be able to go to school tomorrow and talk to them.

“I’m back, apologies for the wait.” Percy walks in holding several pillows and blankets, all in mostly blues, yellows, and whites.

“Dibs on the couch!” Lorelai said, grabbing some pillows and immediately making herself comfortable. Her knight costume poofed out of existence in a flash of glitter into her normal outfit.

“But- aw, fine...” Molly sighed in defeat, standing up from the couch.

Oh well, the floor is probably fine. Considering it’s Percy she probably keeps it pretty clean. Theres a rug too so maybe it’s a bit comfier..? It takes a few minutes for Molly to finally get to a comfortable enough position to lay down.

“Goodnight, you two.”

“Goodnight, Percy!”

“…Night.”

And with that, Percy turns off the lights and goes to her room. Immediately falling asleep when she lays down in bed. The noise of the city melting together into a cacophany of sounds that were oddly comforting, she’s probably gonna take a few days off from work to help the two adjust. 

Percy should wake up early tomorrow, her usual breakfast was just toast and some water but these two probably needed more food than that. Maybe something like cereal? No, far too sugary. She wasn’t even sure if she had anything like that. Toast, water, orange juice, eggs-

Wait, eggs?

There was a smell of something being cooked from the kitchen, Percy stirred and opened her eyes. Oh dear, it was morning already? She looks at her alarm clock. 5:40 AM. How peculiar, she gets up from her bed and puts on her slippers to investigate.

Percy walked into the living room, the pillows and blankets were folded neatly and placed on the coffee table. While the couch where Lorelai was sleeping had an… iridescent bubble in its place.

It clipped into the floor and couch as if it was a bugged model in a video game. She stared in utter confusion for a bit before a voice from the kitchen piped up.

“Morning Percy!” Molly said, holding a pan. Why was she making breakfast?

Percy flinched, completely forgetting that she got up to see who was awake this early. “Ah! Good morning to you too, Molly.” Percy turns to her and gestures to the bubble. “May I ask why your sister has turnt into a sphere?”

“Oh, it’s just an epithet thing.” Molly puts the pan in the sink. “Lorelai can make these things called ‘dream bubbles’ where she makes these fantasy worlds, sometimes she just sleep-inscribes.”

“I see… Why are you up so early?”

“Oh! Well… I wanted to repay you for letting us stay here so I thought I should make breakfast!” Molly points at the table. There was buttered toast and eggs, either boiled or sunnyside up. “We should probably go get groceries and stuff, there wasn’t a lot in your fridge to work with…”

“Noted. But thank you for this, Molly.” Percy goes to sit down, then picks up a boiled egg and inspects it closely. “So, about your sister…”

“Don’t worry, I can go wake her up.” Molly looks at the bubble for a second, then walks over to the couch.

Percy watches in curiosity, she knew Molly and Lorelai had epithets from their files. “DUMB” and “AUGMENT” respectively, but she’s never seen it in action. Percy watched as Molly knocked on the bubble for a few seconds, calling Lorelais name repeatedly to wake her up. After a few minutes she rolled her eyes, reaching her hand out as a small green glow appeared. 

Molly moved her hand closer to the iridescent surface and a hole appeared like a rift in the air. Slowly the gap grew bigger until it was about the size of Molly herself. She entered the bubble and the hole dissapeared along with her.

Percy decided to go and make some coffee while she waited since she still felt a bit tired from last night, more and more time passes and… POOF!

The detective turnt around, alarmed at the sudden sound. Then there stood a groggy Lorelai and a mildly upset Molly.

“Good morning, Lorelai!” Percy said, grabbing her drink without looking and returning to the small dining table. Honestly you probably couldn’t even consider it a dining table, more like a table for one that crammed three chairs.

“Yeah, morning.” Lorelai wiped away the fog from her eyes, then quietly went over to the table grabbing a plate. Molly followed.

“I decided to go ahead and work from home while you two get settled here.” Percy takes a sip of coffee. “Since you two have school I will be responsible for your education for the time being.”

“Me and Lorelai usually change between having to work and having to go to school. I attend school on odd days and she attends school on even ones so that means-” 

“You have to go to school and I get to stay here and relax!” Lorelai interrupts her and grins, Molly scowls at her.

Percy thinks for a second, she never thought the situation was this bad. Who on earth would let a child work instead of attend school!? Oh wait, Martin would. “I… suppose we can still use this system, even for just a few days as you two adjust.” She smiles. “And since I’m not very well acquainted with Miss Lorelai, then perhaps we can use this as a bonding opportunity!”

The three of them continue talking. Percy explaining the layout of the house, the chores, and potentially getting the two of them a room to share, more and more time passes till they all finish and go do their own thing.

Lorelai made another bubble in the corner of the living room, Percy did the dishes, and Molly got ready for school.

Molly already had her schoolwork in her backpack, so she had no need to go back to the emporium to retrieve her things. That was nice! She sat at the couch waiting, when Percys voice piped up.

“Are you ready for school?” Percy asked, walking up to Molly.

“Uh, yeah! Are you gonna drive me there?” 

“No need, your public school is conveniently just a short jog away from my apartment! If you count 20 minutes short, I mean.” The detective held up a metal lunchbox, it had the SJPD logo on the center, so that probably meant it belonged to Percy. “I’ve also taken the time to go ahead and make you some lunch.”

“Really..?” Molly walked up to the lunch box and grabbed it from Percys hand, staring at it. “Theres… Really no need to do that, I usually just ask my friends or buy some stuff at the cafeteria.”

“I personally do not think the cafeteria food they serve is enough for a childs daily diet.” Percy explains. “You can just think of it as a thank-you for making breakfast.” She smiled.

Molly stopped staring at the lunchbox realizing that was probably weird, then turns to Percy to smile at her too.

“Well then, I’ll go ahead and drop you off at school. I’m assuming your sister will be fine if I leave her for a few minutes?”

“She can last in bubbles for hours, she’ll be fine.” Molly explains.

And then the two of them leave the apartment. The streets here were much, much louder than Molly expected. She covers her ears as she walked, which Percy took note of. More time passes and Percy drops off Molly at school. 

Molly waved goodbye at her as she walked away when a sudden jingling bell sound grew closer and closer until-

“MOLLY!!!”

Phoenica Fleecity and Trixie Roughhouse hugged Molly as tight as they could, which was less bone-crushing and more soft and fluffy due to Feenie. “Trixie told me everything! We’re so glad you’re okay!”

“She did?” Oh right, Molly sent a message to the group chat. 

“Really happy that dad of yours is outta the picture now!” Trixie said, grinning.

“Haha, yeah. I am too…” Molly hugged them both back, the hug lasted for a few seconds before the bell rang.

“…How about I tell you guys everything when lunch comes around?” Molly asked.

“Oh sure! Stay safe Molly!” Phoenica smiled even harder then let go of both of them, walking off to her class.

“You do too…” 

“…So did Lorelai get arrested too?” Trixie piped up.

“Trixie!” She playfully shoved them with an elbow. “Don’t be like that!”

“Yeah yeah, I know! Just checkin!”

Note: MAKING THESE CUSTOM BACKGROUNDS WERE SO TIME CONSUMING. IT LITERALLY TOOK LONGER THAN THE ACTUAL CHAPTER ITSELF AND DELAYED IT FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS DEAR GOD. Hopefully now that this is out I can go back to answering asks for the characters and posting art too! Super proud of this one!

~Cherry

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[wosoragebaiter69]

together forever

hayley raso x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: I got my new goalie gloves today 😜

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

“Come on, the beach will be fun. Aussie beaches are like the best in the world! And it’s summer. Get up.” My girlfriend says.

“Hayley, we’ve been everyday this week.” I sigh sinking into the couch.

“Yeah but we haven’t been there on sunset. Sunsets on the beach are a different kind here.” She ends up giving puppy dog eyes which she knows I can’t say no to. In all our years of dating she still manages to make me crumple.

“Fine, it better be worth it.” Her smile grows wider and she jumps up and down. To which, I can only laugh at.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” I grab my phone and a towel, before following her outside and we begin the walk to the beach.

The walk consists of small talk, Hayley seems slightly nervous but I can’t imagine why. Maybe she doesn’t think I’ll like it? Time can only tell. I place her hand in mine in hopes that whatever she’s worried about will go away when she sees the sunset.

Once we arrive, I place the towel down and immediately gape at the sight in front of me. The sky is lit up in all sorts of warm colours. The sun only a third of the way set as it casts an orange glow around it. Yellow and red fill other parts of the sky, making the whole area look like it’s out of a painting. The water contrasts perfectly against the horizon, where large ships can be seen but barely.

“Haiz.. I don’t know what to say. This is… beautiful. Why wasn’t I shown this earlier?” I look at her, still in awe about our surroundings.

All she does is smile.

“I needed to wait for a special moment. Now sit. Sunset doesn’t last too long. Maybe take a picture? Even though we both know nothing compares to real life.” I nod at her words wondering what the special moment could mean.

I turn my gaze back out to the water, watching some distant surfers riding waves and getting taken out, there’s not many other people though.

“I can feel you staring babe.” I break our peaceful silence.

“I know.” Does it sound weird that I can hear her grin? Confused, I turn to look at her but my mouth drops at what she’s holding. Before I can say anything she starts.

“We’ve been dating for 3 years, which have been the best of my life, no one can make me feel the way you do. I’ve had relationships, but you’re the one that has felt the most right. If I’m not with you, I wonder what you’re doing subconsciously. Which is why I’ve decided I want you to be mine forever. So, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N will you make me the happiest woman ever, and marry me?”

Throughout the speech my eyes well up, I can’t believe this is happening. When she finally says the question, there’s only one answer to be said.

“Yes, with every ounce of myself yes!” I cry out, she takes the ring out of the box placing it on the left ring finger.

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” I say before thinking about it.

“I was about to say the exact same thing.” She takes my hand and kisses it. “The best sunset in the world, with the best girl in the world.” I blush uncontrollably, not even trying to hide it.

“Are we going to tell the fans? When they find out they’re gonna go crazy.” I exclaim, it’s only last week her national teammate Ellie got engaged.

“Yes we can if that’s what you want. Now?” I nod smiling. I take the photo, making sure to include the jaw dropping sunset. Hayley’s arms are wrapped around my waist, her head resting on my shoulder kissing my neck softly. While I show the ring in all its glory, she probably went broke.

I take to instagram, including her on the post with the caption ‘I’ve got the best fiancé a girl could have, and you all have another thing to go crazy about.” I hit post laughing with the one I get to call mine, and we sit until twilight. Nothing else needs to exist if I’ve got her.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Reminiscene

Hello everyone :3

You all know what time it is!! I think... It is time for another Dream drabble :3 @spotaus I know how much you like having dream be put through the ringer :33

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Not much to say this time. You guys ready?

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All things considered? Dream had been doing okay lately.

The worst part was that he wasn't sure if he felt good or bad about it.

At least Core didn't call him every 5 minutes anymore. Seems like the outcode child finally accepted that Dream had changed. That Dream had moved on.

Hah.

If only they knew how little he had actually moved on.

Dream stands in the greyed out forest. Waiting and listening. Not even a slight breeze. No sound.

A dead AU.

He used to blame Nightmare for that, for killing their AU.

Nowadays?

Dream figures it was just the end of their AU.

Dream leans against a tree and sighs. He tries to reach out but no sounds.

On his solo trips and, as Blue liked to call them, self discovery trips. Dream had learned he could speak to trees. Though maybe calling it speaking was a bit generous.

The trees didn't use words. Just sounds and whistles and whispers that could almost have been words. Dream had still been able to understand however. He just had to listen.

Seems like that was a theme for him. He just had to listen to be able to understand.

Even so, he takes a deep breath and leaves the forest and walks towards a familiar hill.

He kept returning here. Dream wants to say he doesn't know why and that it is just his home calling back for him.

He knows the truth.

He stops by the old cut down stump and focusses on the two familiar graves.

Seems like he hadn't been the only one visiting. There are once again fresh flowers. All beautifull yellows and orange coloured this time.

Dream smiles as he sits by the graves and gently touches the flowers. Part of his soul grieves at the two graves, once of which is meant for him. But another part of his soul sings in joy.

Because there is only one monster who could have made these graves and left these flowers.

Dream chuckles as he glances at the stump "Nighty came by... didn't he?"

No answer of course. Nim has died a long time ago. Even so Dream leans back against the stump as he keeps looking at the graves, most of his focus is on his own.

Dream keeps staring at the graves as he speaks "I know you won't answer me... with you being gone.. But... I want to at least think you are listening to me. Just this once."

Nim never listened to him. Neither to Nighty. They just had to listen to her.

Look at where that lead them.

Dream watches over the grey fields and the village in the distance. "Had you already decided near the start? Which one of us you would love and which one you wouldn't?"

No answer but Dream didn't mind. He watches the village in the distance. He can't help but wonder how often Nightmare would have had to do this alone. Keep watch alone.

"Or was it an in the moment decision? Had there been a moment were you held both of us and loved us both? Or had you decided the moment Nightmare formed that you would hate him?"

How often Dream would rush off, ignoring the quiet pleas to stay wiht Nightmare.

"I think you decided from the start. Why else would you give him the name you did? Say the only thing that matters about him is how he was different from me."

Would he have seen those angry people coming? With weapons? Had Nightmare been afraid? Wondering where Dream had been? Why Dream hadn't stopped them?

"It has to be the reason. Why else would you tell me to make friends with the villagers and help them? While telling Nightmare to stay put and send them away? You must have known. Known that by making me help them and by making Nightmare deny them that they would grow angry with him."

How often had Nightmare believed Dream had abandoned him? Only for him to end up mortally injured?

"You don't deserve the grave he made." Not that Dream thinks he truly deserves one himself. Even if he returns each time to see if new flowers are left for him.

Dream once again wonders if he should leave a message for the next time Nighty visits... Just something that he wishes to talk.

But then that ever present fear returns. What if it meant Nightmare wouldn't visit this place anymore instead of answering? What if he decided it was better to completely cut their past lose from him instead?

Dream hugs his legs as he tries to remember how colourful everything had been. How beautiful it had been.

But... Dream now realises that it had just been a prison of responsibility... For both him and his brother.

A golden cage... but still a cage.

Drema snorts as he nudges Nim's grave "Yet here you are! immortalised by a grave your son made you! You know. That same son you aparently never liekd or wanted? That son made you a grave and keeps said grave clean and brings you flowers. I bet you wouldn't even be thankful for it."

Dream knocks the stump with his fist "After all! How often did you tell me that I should focus on myself? How i should focus on making the villagers like me? How i shouldn't bother to wait for Nighty to return from the river?" Nim had been trying to seperate them from the start. A dream had never realised.

Dream sighs as he hugs his legs "We were children. Little babybones and you gave us adult responsibilities...." They should have just ran. the two of them should have just disappeared into the forest.

Nighty had asked him a few times if they couldn't just leave together.

Dream should have realised something was seriously wrong. Nighty had been the one who took their jobs so seriously.

But... Dream had just said he didn't want to leave his friends in the village behind.

"I wish i could turn back time... get a redo... I would stay by Nightmare's side. I would convince him that the job you gave us wasn't our job."

Dream wonders why Nightmare had been so set on doing their job so well... Dream has ideas but none of them are happy reasons.

"What... waht did you tell him? That made him desperate to do this job well?" Which lies had Nim told Nightmare in Dream's absence...?

Dream hugs his legs "Why did you never bother to tell me?" Dream grows angry as he huffs "Why did you never bother to tell me the same? Or tell me when Nighty was near? Or tell nighty when I was near? What was it you were trying so hard to protect?!"

A memory. from so long long ago. It had been raining and Nightmare hadn't been around. Ligthning had been flashing and Dream had been so afraid. His mother had help him within her branches. protected him. reassured him he would be safe. told him...

told him that Dream just had to protect himself. protect the hope he represented...

Dream laughs as he kicks the grave of his mother. glaring at it angerly "Was it worth it?! Was it worth killing one of your sons to protect the other?! Was it worth being the cause of all this pain and suffering we both had to go through?!" Dream shakes his skull as he gets up "Nevermind. You are never going to give me answers... and honestly. I am tired of you being a part of my life in anyway. I hope you rot whereever you are now." and he walks back to the forest.

It is silent and he prefers it like that. Things had been loud and hectic.

And well...

Maybe just maybe... He had done the same as Nightamre had done.

He gets to the forest lake and immediantly spots the tiny grave.

Well not grave. Dream shies away from that word. Nightmare is very much alive after all. It is more like a memorial... Wait those can be made for living people right? drema thinks so.

It was nice. It gave him a safe place to grieve and talk about everything. to imagine Nightmare across from him and listening to him. Like old times.

Dream figures that is why his own grave nad Nim's are still up. Dream knows Nightmare has to come by to take care of both graves and Dream snorts as he imagines Nightmare just telling the two graves in all the things they had been wrong in and all the stupid lies they believed.

For now he sits down and pulls out a few little knick-knacks he had collected form across the multiverse.

Dream keeps his voice quiet. Afraid someone will hear and come ruin it "Hey little brother..." he can't forget anymore that Nightmare had been his younger twin. Yet it had always been Nightmare who took care of him. "I am back..."

finally back.

Dream traces the stone and wood structure he had made. all still in perfect condition. With the AU being dead there was no more decay.

Dream organises everything he had left before sitting across from it "Sorry it took me a while. I had a.... I had an identity crisis." he snorts "I know. ironic isn't it? Everyone was always so quick to help and guide me to be what i should be yet it helped nothing. I still ended up unsure about who i was or what i had to do..."

he looks at the snowglobe he had put down "I was always jealous of how you just seemed to have it all figured out. How you were confident in what you did. Both before and after the apples. it felt like i was failing, and i guess in the end i did fail as everything i believed had been a lie..."

Dream sighs as he leans his cheek on his knee as he keeps looking at the structure "It is stupid... I had all the help in the world, and then even the multiverse. and yet still i didn't figure it out. I still didn't figure out i was a god of balance over positivity. I still didn't figure out i was doing more harm than good..."

Dream traces the grey grass under him "I was so against picking a domain Nighty... partly because i didn't want to pick something and get you stuck with something you would be hated for. Not again... but that wasn't all."

Dream hugs his legs and confesses what had been weighing him down "I was afraid of picking wrong. No, I am afraid of picking soemthing wrong. That i will pick something and once again not understand it... How did you do it Nightmare? How did you figure out what you were suposed to do? You didn't have help yet you understood...."

Drema chuckles and rubs his cheek "Not that it matters anymore. aparently i did already pick... Reaper confirmed it for me not too long ago... a god of progress. What the hell does that even mean? What does it mean i should do? I know i aparently helped blue by inspiring him to get out of that loop but still! That was on accident! what if i once again go to far?! what if i..." he hides his face "What if i mess up again?"

Guilt and Dream chuckles "Here i go again... whining about my trouble... I don't even know what my choice and pick do you... what is even the oposite of progress?! regression? Did i make it so you are stuck with like... reset stuff?!" he sighs as he rubs his cheek and rubs the tears away "This shit is so unfair... neither of us ever asked for this. We never wanted this and no one tried to help us before yet expected us to just know."

Dream stares at the memorial. no answers of course but he does feel better after speaking about his worries.

Dream chuckles as he pats the memorial gently "But.... that wasn't why i am here. As you know... today is a special day!" he turns to his pack and pulls out a bottle. it is champagne. and a few cupcakes. he lays the cupcakes between him and the structure before putting a candle on both cupcakes and lighting them.

Dream smiles as he opens the bottle and holds it up to the grave "It is our birthday!"

Dream rubs his neck "I know it must seem weird. after all! For the last i don't even know how many years i had so many people to celebrate with and so many powers and even before that it were the villagers but... well..."

his voice grows softer and softer "I miss when it was just us. After we collected berries and fresh fruits. when we would sneak off together and sit by the river to eat the fruits together and give each other small gifts..." he pulls a small wooden statue from his pack.

Dream looks at it and rubs the wood. He had spend weeks on it. an old familiar skill now unfamiliar and feeling alien in his hands. he managed to make a small owl at least. even if one eye was clearly bigger than the other and Dream now had more splinters in his hands then ever before, even more than he first started.

He places it carefully in front of the memorial "I know it... it isn't my best work... I am going to be honest, it is porbably my worst..." he just hadn't had time to try again. He tried so many times but none of them have looked right and as time went by it just kept getting worse and suddenly he didn't have time anymore.

Dream chuckles "It sucks that i.... i didn't keep up with the hobby... I hope you kept reading at least... that you had the chance to keep reading... your picture and castle seemed to reinforce this at least... there were so many books in there! and the picture of you reading..." he rubs his arm as he keeps sitting right there "I am sorry... that you felt like he had to leave and run from your home... again..." he glances down adn chuckles "look at me... rambling... lets blow out the candles okay? I will blow out both. Don't forget to make a wish."

Drema leans down and blows out the candles on both cupcakes before putting his hands together and making his wish.

A silent whisper in his mind.

please.

please.

Just give him the chance to meet Nightmare again.

To talk to him one more time.

If only once to tell him he is sorry and that Dream loves him.

Dream opens his sockets and smiles at the grave, ignoring the tears that are leaving his sockets "Did you make a wish nightmare? Remember. No telling! otherwise it wont come true!"

Dream takes the two cupcakes and eats both before opening the champagne bottle and drinking straight from it. He isn't a fan of stuff like this but champagne is suposed to be for celebrations and well... celebrating himself and his twin seems like a good reason.

He spends his afternoon like that. just being in his old AU thinking back.

Fitting. a god of progress... stuck thinking about the past.

Dream chuckles and sighs "Blue said it is fine you know? To take time and get used to everything... I just hope... that you are doing the same... taking your time to rest after everything. I can only imagine how exhausting it would ahve been to have to do everything you did while everyone was actively working against you..." he smiles up "Good news for that though! I managed to visit pretty much everyone who knew either of us personally or about us! And i managed to explain the situation! so.. hopefully... whever you are or are planning on going, people will let you be and do your thing..."

Dream smiles at the memorial with the raised bottle "to us. to the future... and... I miss you... I am sorry i didn't make it obvious how much you mean to me..."

That had to be the reason why Nightmare hadn't searched him out yet... because he beleived that Dream hated him.

And that is on Dream. On dream for not doing a good job as brother and making it obvious that he loved his twin.

Dream hums as he leans against the stone structure "I love you nighty. And I promise you, I will make it up to you once we meet again."

Maybe that is why he is the god of progress. Because he is willing to move forwards and make it up. progress towards a new future.

Dream blinks and laughs "I bet you would have heard my title and figured it out immediantly." he giggles as he leans against the stone "Happy birthday Nightmare."

Happy birthday to me.

Dream sips the expensive bottle and enjoys the peace and silence.

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[oumaheroes]

[8] + fruk? idk, it sounds like something they'd hardly tell each other but I figured it's a challenge you could enjoy solving. :) i love your writing btw. Thank you for sharing it with the world. <3

[8] 'I love you'

Both of these asks are so so old but I enjoy a challenge, Anons! Took me a while but I got there in the end. Hope you like!

Characters: France, England, FrUK

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Love Is...

'You're not entirely intolerable.'

England says this to him in warm candlelight, yellows and orange hues dancing gently on his cheek and across his nose. On his back, no less, looking up at France with wine soft eyes amongst expensive coverlets and pillows of a borrowed palace bed.

France's hands are busy, one supporting him, one not, and thus he knows there is some bias to England’s words.

If it were darker, less candlelight and more masking cover, maybe they would be more true. England had always been gentler in the shadows, safer when he feels he can't be seen.

'Shame the same cannot be said for you.' France says in reply, and bites him hard on the shoulder.

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

'You can be useful.'

France sounds surprised.

England clenches his jaw. 'Fuck you.'

'I'm serious.' France twirls the pointed end of his share knife into England thick wooden table. 'There may yet be hope in regards to you being anything of value.'

It is France's own knife, at least, that he is blunting. Gilded- overly so, so it's almost more decorative than usable. Almost. France does so like to find those lines and tease them.

The remains of a meal are pushed aside, a map open and curling long between them instead like a dried up sea. England wants to grab the knife out of France’s hand and jab it in his eye but he doesn’t. He needs France, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, needs his help sweet talking the French nobility and keeping his King in check and so refrains from lunging across the table. Swallows bitterness down and looks from the maimed table to the map.

The French coastline looks alien upside-down but England doesn’t ask France to turn it around.

‘So.’ France’s voice is silky and low, ‘Can you deliver on your end?’

England thinks of his own King, thinks of his endless envy that is great enough to engulf his nation’s pride. He nods.

France clicks his tongue, ‘What a surprise.’

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

‘Where have you been?’ A nation who will one day be England pouts and crosses his arms across his chest, ‘I’ve been waiting here for hours’.

‘It wasn’t hours.’ A nation who will one day be France looks about the bank of the tree where England is sat in distain, ‘The ground is wet.’

‘You’re late.’ England insists, ‘You said you would be here by noon. And wet ground is better to write in.’

‘It’s still noon. Couldn’t you have picked somewhere sunnier? The ground hasn’t dried here; where will I sit.’

‘Are you stupid?’ England holds out an arm and gestures to the shadow it makes upon the floor with another. It is slightly longer than noon would provide, ‘Does that look like noon?’

‘Do you want me to help, or not.’

‘No.’

France sighs, ‘Fine. Do you want me to do this the easy way or the hard way.’

England kicks at a small stone and it bumps a little ways down the small pathway along the edge of the wheat field he’s been biding his time in. This France knows, because there’s chaff caught in his hair and dusting amongst the mud of the dampened hem of his cloak.

‘I already know how to write letters,’ England grumbles, ‘Rome made me learn his, and they’re exactly the same as your ones. Why do I have to do this all again.’

‘Because after Rome, you learnt some barbarian ones, and now I want to make you presentable. These are things any decent, proper nation should know.’ France dusts down England’s hair, ‘And it’s very hard to bring you up to par when you keep avoiding my visits and moving from castle to castle.’

England shakes his head and looks away.

‘You should stay with the King,’ France says pointedly, ‘Not move about the strongholds like a vagabond. You shouldn’t show your earls too much favour.’

France sees England hold himself back from speaking. He knows what England wants to say and is relieved when he keeps the several possible and difficult arguments to himself. An improvement, but maybe only because there’s no one else to hear.

‘Move.’ England says suddenly. He picks up a stick that France had failed to notice, propped up ready to go against a thick root, and waves him out of the way and off the flat dirt road. He begins scrawling in the ground in rigid, sharp strokes. ‘If I write “go fuck yourself” in Latin, Norman, and French, will you do so?’

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‘I don't always hate you.’

France says this so quietly that England almost didn’t hear him. He wouldn’t have done, if he didn’t know France’s voice and his habits so well. He halts, the quiet palace yawning open unseen down the darkened passage ahead.

From the corner of his eye, England sees France shift where he leans in the archway. He was so still that England hadn’t noticed him as he walked, his dark shape held like a statue in shadows. Now that he knows he’s there, England can almost see the glint of silver threads in the moonlight, fine clothes on a man made just as much from the dirt as he.

A shift of fabric as France moves again. England stares ahead and does not look at him.

‘You may not believe that, but it’s true.’ France offers quietly. ‘I don’t like to think that you believe otherwise.’

‘I don’t like that you make me believe so.’

A pause. England can hear the sounds of the evening: distant footsteps on flagstones, the rustle of trees in the orchard beyond the stone courtyard walls. The smells of thousands of past summers on the warm breeze, blurring the edges of the era and turning the night endless.

The moment stretches, full and expectant. Then, a sigh.

It passes.

France does not reply, and England walks away.

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‘Are you coming with me?’

France snorts. ‘I am offended that you would ever think that I would.’

‘Oh fuck off. Come on.’ England’s eyes are dangerously captivating, ‘You’re just as bored as I am.’

‘Unlike yourself, I am able to find joy in the finer things.’

‘Francis, this is the worst fucking ball we’ve been to in centuries.’

France winces, ‘Yes, but the food is at least good. And the people here are-‘

‘All over fifty.’

‘We are over fifty. And they’re-’

‘Boring.’

‘Important.’ France corrects, ‘They are important, my dear.’

England scoffs and looks across the lacklustre and lethargic dancefloor, couples with outdated clothes and dour expressions stiffly moving in their formations. He swirls his wine in his glass and points with it shamelessly, ‘Important for what, exactly.’

‘To be seen by. To talk politics with. To encourage away from silly decisions that will ruin my skin for the next decade.’

‘And the younger important people? Or heaven forbid, any fun ones? Where are they?’

France shrugs with one shoulder helplessly, ‘The Viscount is... particular.’

England raises and eyebrow and France shrugs, ‘Fine. It is dull. He is dull, and these are all his dull friends. What do you want me to say, the money is here but the life is gone. I’m not blind, Arthur.’

England adjusts the lace of France’s collar, straightening it from where a point has curled under itself, ‘Well, I’m going to the inn on Perry street. That’s where the kitchen boy told me-‘

‘The one with the hair, or the one with the funny leg?’

‘The one with the teeth.’

France shakes his head, ‘Poor boy. Sugar is a terrible thing, I wonder when people will pick up on that.’

England rolls his eyes and downs his wine. France winces, ‘That was expensive.’

‘Good. I’m off.’ England kisses his cheek quickly, the powdered hairs of his wig tickling France’s neck, ‘Have fun somehow being the most interesting thing in the room for a change.’

‘Ha ha.’

France watches England carelessly drop his very expensive glass onto a passing waiter’s tray and tuts at him, ‘You’re too over-dressed for a common inn, you’ll get mugged.’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘I’m sure you will. When I find your naked corpse in a hedge tomorrow, don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so.’

‘I tell you your make-up makes you look like sun bleached fish every day, and yet you still wear it.’

France huffs and turns away. He hears the clip of England’s shoes as he slips behind a curtain until his steps soften, sights fixed on the dancers. The crowds in the edges of the hall, in the dark corners where candles cannot find them, have a low murmuring buzz that heaves itself above the orchestra enough to give life to the odd word of two. None of them give France any hope.

Once he is sure no one noticed England leave, France downs his own wine and pushes himself away from the wall to join him.

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‘Be careful.’

England blinks, confused.

It is dark, moonlight all they have to go by, and they are watching British soldiers pour out from and over French beaches into hungry, waiting boats. Months of planning, countless sleepless nights and hours held stressed and tense in the wait for scraps of coded information has lead them here, to this. To men running through waves, to home so close and yet so far, and a flight through the dark to get stranded soldiers home before France falls.

England feels hollow. His chest feels concaved, an empty feeling of something like relief rotting and curdling there at the thought that this momentous victory is in the grand scheme of things, nothing at all. A huge success merely only for how difficult any small victory is. And still a failure because... because-

France’s hand brushes his. England swallows and entwines their fingers together.

‘You’re the one who should be careful.’ He says.

France squeezes his fingers. ‘If-‘

‘Don’t.’

‘-If.’ France’s grip tightens, ‘If, Arthur. Just be careful. I’ll be fine. It’s you who-‘

France breaks off.

‘I won’t.’ England says. He takes a deep breath in. ‘Not me. Not yet.’

‘I would be deeply embarrassed for you, if you do. It’s shameful. To a child, and one raised by Gilbert, no less.’

England snorts and smooths his thumb over France’s knuckle before he breaks them apart. He tugs down his uniform, wishing for gold trimming and a deep red coat, and smooth wood of a longbow.

D-Day unfolds in the muddied, darkened shallows of Dunkirk beach, and two empires watch the world turn over and into something new.

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

‘Move over.’

France wakes to a knee in the small of his back. ‘A.. Arthur?’

‘Francis, move.’

Bewildered, France obediently shuffles over and there’s a gasp of cold air as England lifts the covers to climb inside. ‘What are...?’

‘Shh!’

France hears the heavy drapes around his bed being rearranged, then gets another knee in his back as England burrows down next to him.

France turns over. In the darkened room and behind thick curtains, England is nothing more than a source of warmth and the feeling of being watched. ‘What are you doing here.’

‘This is my castle, isn’t it?’

‘It’s one of your King’s castles, yes.’

‘Well then.’

‘But you weren’t here.’ France whispers, When we arrived. ‘He is very upset. He says you shame him.’

‘He shames me.’ England’s cool hands find themselves under France’s back, ‘The grandson of a usurper has nothing to do with me.’

‘Arthur.’ France cautions, but then stops. It is not the time, nor place. Nor, he knows, his place, really, to say anything at all. He places his hand on the cool skin of England’s arm and squeezes it, ‘I’m happy you’re here now. Apart from all the dirt you’ve likely tracked into the bed.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘I can smell it. You smell like outside.’

‘Outside doesn't have a smell.’

It does. Brought in to a human space where it doesn’t belong, the night air that clings to England’s hair and skin is earthy and cool. Fresh and foreign amongst wood fires and the fresh thresh on the floors.

‘I changed.’ England insists, seemingly having taken France’s lack of answer as an argument, ‘I do have nightclothes, you know. I’m not a savage.’

‘Hmm.’

England wriggles his fingers under France’s back to the soft parts of his sides and France can’t help but yelp as they tickle.

‘I was in York but heard you were leaving.’ England says, ‘Did you want to go riding before you go?’

‘We go Tuesday.’ France whispers, conscious of the servants littered about the room asleep. How England crept past them all or even got into the castle so quietly in the first place, he’ll never know. ‘We’re almost ready.’

‘So, do you want to go riding, or not.’

It is Sunday. There will be a lot to do before he goes back to his own lands, lots of packing and planning and then talking to people and France is exhausted just thinking about how much of it he will be needed for, let alone the voyage back across likely windy seas.

‘I don’t want to share. I want my own horse.’

‘Fine.’

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

‘Here.’

England looks up from his laptop to find a cup of what might be soup held aloft before him.

France waggles it, evidently deeming England too slow on the uptake, ‘Take it.’

England does, cautiously, and moves his laptop aside to safety. ‘What’s this for.’

‘You.’

‘I could infer that.’

‘Could you? I never want to assume.’ Before England can tell him not to, France settles himself in the seat opposite. The booth England has hidden himself in has a wide table down the middle which takes up most of the room, but France moves himself into the tight space far more dramatically than is needed.

The soup is hot. England pops the lid off- carrot and coriander. His stomach clenches at the smell, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was. ‘Where on earth did you get it? They stopped serving dinner hours ago.’

‘I know. You missed it.’ France shoots him a pointed look, ‘I went to a café down the road.’

England looks down and swirls the soup around the Styrofoam. It’s thick, good quality. ‘I’m not paying you for it.’

‘Ah yes, because that is why I went.’

England glances at his laptop. France shuts it. ‘Now, whilst you’re eating, listen to me. I have a story for you.’

England takes the spoon that France offers and stirs. He wonders if France has any chocolates in his pockets, ‘Is it about the look Antonio gave-‘

‘Yes.’ France leans forwards eagerly, ‘But shut up. Let me talk.’

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

‘It’s... it’s large.’ The scientist at the front of the room looks shrunken, weighed down and wizened. He runs a hand through his hair, glasses glinting in sterile, overheads lights. ‘It’s large.’

France looks up and catches England’s eye. He looks tired, old.

Scared.

Question lights flash on around the room, every national and political delegation with something to say or ask. The scientist seems to freeze, overwhelmed by where or who to turn to first, and then people start shouting all over each other, nations and their politicians alike.

‘What the fuck is this?’ France’s president holds her hands to her mouth and shakes her head slowly from side to side, ‘This cannot be happening.’

‘There is nothing we can do!’ France hears the scientist say over the braying clamour, ‘It’s too late, it’s-‘

‘Francis.’ England is there, at his shoulder. ‘Come on.’

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

‘What the fuck have you done to yourself?’

France sniffs and turns away, ‘That’s none of your business.’

England snorts and hangs his hat and coat on the stand, ‘You look like you’ve fallen off a horse.’

‘You look like an unkempt vagabond.’

England looks down at his finely pressed suit and trousers and then back to France. He is on his sofa, studiously reading a book and not looking at England making himself comfortable in France’s livingroom. His leg is before him on a padded stool, swollen at least twice the size, and there is a purple bruise blossoming upon one cheek.

England comes around the back of him and brushes soft golden hair away from France’s shoulder. ‘I could do better.’ he says, gently thumbing the fragile scabbing of France’s bottom lip.

France swats at him, ‘Go away. I don’t want you here.’

‘Wrong place wrong time? Or did you try to speak sense again to someone who actually has some.’

‘Arthur, stop.’ France catches England’s wrist and kisses the inside, ‘You’re too unsympathetic to understand.’

‘Hmm.’ England kneads at France’s shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, ‘Would it help you to know I’m planning on telling everyone you fell ice skating?’

France lets out a bark of laughter, ‘Oh? And who on earth would you tell.’

‘Anyone who will listen.’ He collects a glass and a bottle of wine, along with some bread and some of the expensive cheese that he knows France always squirrels away in his pantry whenever he can, and takes them back to the living room.

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

‘If you could be anywhere, where would you be.’

Soft music from a Spanish restaurant down the road, warm ocean breeze. Anywhere and everywhere, all at once.

Besides him, England sips warm ale from a can he smuggled through customs and shrugs, ‘Home.’

‘That’s a boring answer.’

‘That’s the truest answer.’

‘And where again would Arthur go, if he could leave England behind.’ Francis watches Arthur from the corner of his eye, sees the fragments of him outside of all else that they always are.

‘I can’t leave England behind.’ England says, ‘So there’s not much point entertaining it.’

‘I’m trying to have a serious conversation.’

‘Then don’t ask a hypothetical question.’

Francis sighs, and retreats. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and watches the smoke drift away into the dark.

‘But if you’re asking time.’ England tilts his head, considering. Behind them on the seafront, students between bright club front lights in loud, drunken clusters, ‘Now, I think. Maybe a hundred years ago, at most.’

‘Really?’ France is surprised, ‘I would have thought-‘

‘Boring answer,’ Arthur says, and the rest remains unfinished.

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

‘Don’t you fucking die on me.’

Of all the places England expected to die, this was actually what he’d considered the least likely. In Calais, oft contested, right by the sea, and entirely calm. No war or battle to take him, no disease or crop failure to push him along. He can see Dover in the distance, his white cliffs so close he can almost feel them in the bones they represent.

But above them, burning and close, the sky roils.

France lies in his lap on the grass of his garden, eyes wet and smiling. ‘That’s not fair, you can’t say that to me. That’s what I was going to say to you.’

‘I’m serious.’ England swallows down something bitter and painful in his throat, and brushes the hair from France’s face, ‘You’re not allowed to go first unless I’m given that honour. Keep yourself awake.’

France freezes, eyes wide, ‘What-‘

‘I know you too well,’ England says, and dips his head to kiss him. There is a golden chain around France’s neck, old and reliable. On it hangs a much-used pendant, once again filled and ready. Still full, he hopes.

England fiddles with it in the hollow of France’s neck and sees the burning heavens reflected in his eyes. ‘We’ll go together.’

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

‘I love you.’

On a nameless bit of a terraformed Earth that might have once been a small kingdom in the northern sea, a man called Francis pauses at the hydro sink, half washed cup in his hands. A man called Arthur stands next to him with a dish cloth and when Francis turns to him, Arthur stares back, face inscrutable.

Arthur does not mince words. He has always spoken his mind frankly, regardless of how offensive or tactless his thoughts may be. He has never tailored himself to a situation, never presented himself as anything he is not. But softness and open vulnerability is not a texture he can wear upon himself. Not because he doesn’t have any, Francis knows, but because he expects that Arthur doesn’t know how. Some core part of his personality that gets lost from his heart to his tongue, or given spikes along the way.

Maybe that was what caught Francis’ attention in the first place, all those years ago on the transport ship to Earth. The parts Arthur kept to himself more than the parts he did not. Arthur spoke kindness and care in actions, not words, and words were what Francis had heard far too much of.

Francis looks away and makes sure to keep his face just as blank, just as unconcerned.

‘I love you too.’

[matty-bear]

Maybe one for nick where reader has a panic attack sorta thing?

Haunted House Scare [N.S]

type: request ! this is also based of this request but i decided to merge them both into one fic ^^ (hope you guys don’t mind) 

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, angst (???), panic attack, anxiety, haunted house, mentions of scare actors (their appearances are not fully described)

summary: what will happen when Nick invites you to join him and his brothers to a haunted house for a festive holiday vlog to celebrate Halloween? will your fears and already high anxiety get the best of you during this frightening experience or will you manage to pull through? 

notes: not completely sure if this is what you guys were looking for but when i started writing this, i couldn’t stop 😭 life laugh live the fall guys <3 hopefully you guys enjoy this ! i’m actually quite proud of it :3 happy reading ! 

WC: 4.7K

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

The Fall season is a time of pure contentment and happiness for you. It’s your favorite season and time of the year and you wait for what seems like decades for it to come around. I mean, how would you not love the season? The breathtaking sight of the bright oranges and yellows filling the once dull green leaves as they cling to thin branches and the sight of all of them finally falling to the ground and covering the land with vibrant colors was a sight you could look at all day.

The crunching of the leaves that lay underneath your feet brought you pure joy and you often walked outside for hours just to hear the satisfying crunch with every step you take. 

God and the weather. The slight chilly yet warm weather that is brought will fall is what makes you the happiest. You're finally allowed to wear those sweaters you’ve had stashed in your closet and simply bundle yourself in warm clothes during this time of the year. 

Despite the fall being your safe haven, your mind didn’t allow you to be happy during this tranquil time of the year. Your anxiety had been at an all-time high all week and this morning seemed to make it worsen even more. Every little thing either caused you to have a small freak out or just get overwhelmed and break down as a whole. For instance, your neighbors, who have just recently moved in, have been moving all of their belongings into their house since early this morning. 

They weren't trying to be quiet about their actions whatsoever and the loud clattering of boxes and obnoxious beeping from moving trucks ran through your ears for at least two hours. Now, you are quite sensitive to sound so to say that this made you quite overwhelmed very quickly was quite an understatement. 

When you finally reached your breaking point, you sent a quick text to Nick telling him that you were coming over to his place. God knew that you were in desperate need of your boyfriend’s comfort right now.

When you saw that your text went through, you wasted no time in throwing on a random sweater and slipping your sneakers on. Before you left, you grabbed your headphones and set them over your ears in hopes of blocking the obnoxious sounds from outside. When you got yourself together, you finally left.

That brings us to now. 

You and Nick are currently hanging out in his bedroom. Nick’s room has to be second on your list of top ten things that bring you comfort. I mean from the soft LED lights, the stuffed animals lining up against the pillows resting against the headboard, the faint scent of pumpkin radiating through the air and filling your senses, everything in the room eased your mind very quickly.

Best of all, this room was Nick’s home, and the two of you stayed cooped up in his room for most of the time you two hung out. The boy knew how much you loved this small space of his so he always dragged you to his room when you came over. 

Nick’s bedroom was filled with comfortable silence as the male pressed you tightly against his chest.  You allowed yourself to fully relax against your boyfriend as you tucked yourself in the crook of Nick’s neck, your eyes closed shut and your senses filled with his calming cologne and the slight hint of the pumpkin candle on his nightstand every time you inhaled. 

“Babe?” Nick calls, his soft voice ripping through the silence filling the room. You lowly hum a reply after a few seconds, your body not moving an inch as you feel tiredness take over. “I forgot to tell you earlier but I need to film with Matt and Chris today.” 

You groggily open your eyes after a moment and shift a little in Nick’s lap to gaze up at him. “Like right now?” You ask, your words slurring together as you blink heavily. 

“Here in a few minutes, yeah. I can take you with us if you’d like. You don’t have to be seen on camera of course but you can still join us.” 

“Where are you guys going?” 

“A haunted house. The fans have been wanting us to go to one since the Sam and Colby collab got uploaded.” 

Ah yes, haunted houses. How could you forget that fall also welcomed the universally loved holiday, Halloween? You weren’t fond of haunted houses or anything that could frighten you because you just couldn’t handle being scared. When you were faced with something that frightened you, you immediately had a meltdown or a panic attack that lasted for quite some time. 

Due to this intense fear of yours, you also heavily disliked Halloween. You often hid yourself in your house when the holiday came around the corner to prevent yourself from facing the terrors that came with the holiday. The idea that people enjoy scaring others just for laughs was completely mind-boggling to you. 

God, why would your favorite time of the year also hold your most hated holiday? It’s like the universe didn’t want you to be happy. 

When you heard the words ‘haunted house’ escape Nick's lips, you immediately tensed up. Now, Nick knew you quite well but you did keep some things from him. It’s not like you’re keeping secrets from the boy but it was rather that you didn’t want him to view you as a male that was childish and couldn’t take on certain things because of your fears and whatnot.

If you couldn’t tell, you have yet to bring up your fears of haunted houses and anything scary to Nick yet. You were plenty aware of the fact that the boy adored Halloween and you didn’t want to hold him back from having fun on his favorite holiday just because you didn’t like the terrors that came with it. 

“A haunted house?” You ask, your voice slightly wavering. You can’t help but swallow dryly as you lock eyes with Nick. 

“Yeah, a haunted house.” The redhead confirms with a small head nod. “I’ve been wanting to go to one for a while but have opted not to since I’m a pussy but fans have been wanting us to go to one for quite some time. And since Halloween is coming around, I think it’d be the perfect opportunity for us to go and film our experience at a haunted house.” 

You hesitantly hum and slowly nod your head, your gaze shifting to your gray sweatpants. As silence fills the room, Nick’s eyebrows furrow together in worry as he gazes down at you. As the male gently grabs your face and tilts your head up to meet your eyes he says, “Hey, you alright? You got quiet.” 

“Yeah I'm fine, don’t worry.” You reply, a little too quickly for Nick’s liking. You slowly take a deep inhale through your nose in hopes of clearing your head before you add to your previous statement, “I’ll go with you guys.” 

Nick’s eyes lighten up the moment that statement leaves your lips. He lands a long and lingering kiss on your temple before saying, “Yay! I’ll text Matt and tell him you're coming with us.” 

You softly nod your head and go back to leaning against Nick’s chest as he hurriedly takes his phone out of his pocket. As the male busies himself with his cell for a few minutes, you shakily exhale and force your lips together. 

Wasn’t this going to be delightful. 

_______

After quite a while of persuading, pushing, and pulling, you finally stood in front of a large broken-down haunted house. The whole demeanor of the building terrified you. From the dark and rusted wood, the broken windows that seem to be handing onto their hinges for dear life, and the graveyard -which you’re hoping is fake- in the front yard, the house that loomed over you caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. 

Now, the boys decided that they would go out a little early just before the sunset, so they wouldn't have to go home late. Despite the sun still being out for the most part, the way it peeked out from behind the top roof and cast dark shadows over every nick and cranny of the front half of the building added to your anxiousness. 

As you stand at the steps leading up to the front door, your senses begin to crawl up to their all-time high. You hear every single crow in the trees nearby, the small, pebble-like rocks rolling around the road every time a car passes, and the leaves brushing against each other as the wind harshly blows. Your immediate thought was ‘What the hell did I just agree to?’ as you continued to have a stare-down with the house. 

The moment you open your mouth to call your boyfriend, a sudden hand being set on your shoulder causes you to harshly flinch and let out a small shout. You quickly turn on your heels and stare wide-eyed at Chris who’s directly behind you, a look of guilt and worry filling his eyes as he takes in your frightened and tense state. 

“Sorry for scaring you, I really didn’t mean to.” Chris apologizes, “You doing okay? You don’t look so good…” 

“I’m fine.” You blurt out, a forced smile appearing on your lips. As Chris goes to comment on your behavior, the loud sound of crunching leaves rings through your ears like nails on a chalkboard. This sound was usually one of your favorites but at times like these, you simply couldn’t handle it. In response to the sound, both your hands quickly raise and cup over your ears in hopes of blocking or muffling the sound. 

“Are you guys ready to head in?” Matt's voice rings through your ears as he makes an appearance next to Chris, a wide smile clear on his lips. 

“Hell yeah, let’s get this shit done,” Chris replies, the sound of his hands loudly clasping together as he claps causing you to flinch and take a step back. Apparently, you take a few too many steps back and bump into something behind you. Frightened, you quickly turn around to look back at what you bumped into. A heavy exhale escapes your lips however when your gaze lands on your boyfriend who’s gazing down at you, a worried expression clear on his face. 

“Are you alright?” Nick asks, his voice low, as to make sure he wouldn’t gain the attention of his two brothers standing a few steps in front of him. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reply, your tone coming off a little harsher than intended. If there was one thing you didn’t like, it was people asking if you were okay. Even if they had good intentions, you simply didn’t like people being so upfront with you. 

Nick, noticing your sudden change in your demeanor simply by your tone, immediately drops the conversation, knowing better to not press you with more questions. He takes a moment to scan you and take in your body language before he wordlessly wraps his arms around your biceps and brings you against him for a warm embrace. You immediately find yourself melting in the male’s arms, your eyes closing as you take in your boyfriend’s warmth. 

“You’re so fucking warm.” You breathe out. 

“And you’re pretty cold.” Nick chuckles, his head dipping down so he can land a quick peck on your cheek. He doesn’t pull his face away when he’s done and when he begins to nestle his nose against the side of your face and down your jawline, a flurry of soft laughter bubbles up your throat. 

“Nick!” You exclaim, your eyes wrinkling due to how hard you're smiling. “The hell are you doing?”  

“I love your stubble,” Nick mumbles in response, his minty breath fanning your face and neck. “I’m not the type of guy to be controlling or some shit but please don’t shave. I mean that in the least controlling way possible, I promise.” 

“Okay, okay, I won't! Now cut it out, it feels weird!” Nick hums against your skin and peppers your face in light kisses for a few moments, drawing even more soft laughter from you. 

Your small moment gets cut off when Matt’s voice comes up from behind you, “Alright you two, let’s go now. You can do this later.” 

Nick immediately stops what he’s doing and lifts his head to lock eyes with Matt who’s already looking at him. He narrows his eyes at the boy and lands one more peck on your lips before he reluctantly pulls out of the hug. 

“C'mon, Matt’s being grumpy and tough again,” Nick grumbles as he takes his hand in yours and drags you towards the haunted house. 

“I’m not being fucking tough or grumpy!” Matt retaliates with a huff, the hand that’s holding the vlog camera rising in the air. 

“It’s your tone, Matthew!” Nick remarks, “I suggest you fix it before I tip the scare actors extra to be ruthless with you.” 

You hear Matt mumble something under his breath behind you as you walk closer to the front door of the house. When you approach the door, fear immediately floods your veins when you see white and red lights flashing inside and reflecting against the rusted window in the center of the door. You completely forgot what you were signed up for and where you were when you were wrapped in Nick’s arms, however, the moment you stood face to face with the haunted house, everything came crashing down onto you like a tidal wave. 

God do you have so many regrets right now. 

“Chris, do you mind recording on your phone? I want to get as many angles as possible for the video.” Nick asks, his head turning so he can momentarily lock eyes with the younger male who’s standing behind him. 

“Yeah, I don't mind,” Chris replies, quickly fishing his phone out of the pocket of his camo cargos and opening his camera. After ensuring that everyone, except you, has a device open and recording, Nick finally opens the front door with a loud creak. Immediately, the four of you are greeted with a large, trashed, and dark entrance. 

“Fucking hell…” You mumble under your breath, being careful not to get your voice to pick up on any of the recordings. To say you weren’t ready for this experience was quite an understatement. It took Nick a rather good tug for you to be pulled into the dark house. As your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness around you, you desperately clung onto Nick’s bicep, your nails digging into the soft clothing of his sweater. 

The redhead didn’t mind your action whatsoever and let you be as he focused his attention on ensuring that Matt and Chris made it inside. Once he can briefly make out their silhouettes behind him, he decides to slowly walk deeper inside the house. As the four of you slowly walked, the sound of crunching papers and clattering glass sounded through your ears. None of the scare actors have come out yet, which you were very grateful for, however, the eerie and loud classical music that played was freaking you out enough. 

You were innerly thanking whoever decided on the lighting for the candles that were placed against the walls and on some fixtures you guys passed, even though they flickered a lot and made your anxiety spike even more. As Nick proceeds to talk to the cameras and guide the four of you deeper and deeper inside the creaky, old house, you begin to grow more paranoid. 

You felt as though your head was spinning and the fact that you couldn’t see what was in front of you was making everything worse. Your mind eventually started to make forms and faces in the dark, presumably to scare you, and it was working. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your palms began to grow sweaty as all the small notices ran through your ears and heightened your senses. 

You knew you weren’t going to make it very long. You were terrified. The scare actors haven’t even made an appearance yet and- 

A sudden blood-curdling, high-pitched scream rings through your ears, followed by a woman jumping out from behind a cupboard. A scream rips through your throat and your fight or flight instincts immediately kick in. 

You chose flight. 

You quickly bolt in the opposite direction of where the lady is standing in front of you. You could faintly make out someone calling after you but your main thought was that you needed out and you needed out right now. 

You clumsily ran down the dark halls, your body continuously colliding with numerous pieces of furniture. That was sure to leave a few marks but you paid no attention to the pain that coursed through your veins with every collision you experienced. 

Where the hell is the exit?! 

As you sharply turn a corner, you’re immediately met with another actor screaming directly into your face. Another scream rips out of you and you immediately begin to scramble backwards. However, to your dismay, you slip on the rug beneath you and land straight on your ass. At this point, tears are profusely streaming out of your eyes. As you begin to sob your heart out and back up on your hands, your breath gets caught in your throat and it’s suddenly a lot harder to take in breaths of air. 

Fucking hell. 

When your back finally collides with a wall, you allow your legs to curl up to your chest. As you desperately claw at your chest and continue to sob loudly, you shout for the person you need the most. “Nick!” You sob out, your voice coming out hoarse and rough. At this point, your entire body is shaking and you're struggling to take in breaths of air. You would usually know how to ground yourself during panic attacks but it seems impossible right now considering your current environment. 

When you feel someone grab your shoulders, you let out a strangled scream and begin to scurry off again. However, when you manage to pick up Nick’s voice, you stop trying to run off. 

“y/n, it’s just me! it’s just me I promise. I got you, I'm right here, baby.” Nick exclaims, his strong grip on your shoulders loosening so as not to frighten you more. 

“Nick-“ You choke out, “I can’t-“ 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Nick’s right here, okay? Let’s get you out of here, come on.” Nick quickly hooks his arms under your legs and behind your back before picking you up off the floor. As you desperately cling onto the male like your life depends on it, the male sprints off towards the front door of the house. It only took a few minutes for Nick to find the door and the moment he opened it, the wind greets you by slapping you directly in the face. 

You don’t have time to adjust your eyes to the moonlight shining directly in front of you before Nick rushes to the front lawn and crouches down. The boy wasted no time in forcing your body around so you were facing him and cupping your face in his hands. 

“y/n I need you to breathe for me, okay? I’m going to help guide you through it but I need you to at least try for me, alright? Do you think you can do that for me, hun?” Nick asks, his thumbs getting to work on wiping the never-ending stream of tears seeping from your eyes. After your mind registers the male’s statement, you slowly nod your head. “Okay, feel my heartbeat. Feel how my chest rises and focus on it, you hear?” 

You nod your head again and the next thing you know, Nick takes both of your hands and sets them on his chest. It takes a moment for your fingers to pick up on the subtle thumping of your redhead’s heartbeat but when they do, you feel yourself feel a little more at ease. As you focus all of your attention on the steady rise and fall of Nick’s chest, you attempt to follow through with his breathing exercises. 

“In through your nose, out through your mouth. Deep breaths for me.” 

In. 

And out. 

After you manage to finally take some air back into your lungs without it taking all of your energy, you feel your mind clear up a bit. “Good, you’re doing amazing, baby,” Nick whispers, planting a quick kiss on your nose. “Now shut your eyes and think of my room. You remember all the scents there, yes? Picture yourself sitting in my room and picking out all the smells.” 

You simply hum in response, too tired to verbally respond, before you shut your eyes. As you picture yourself sitting on Nick’s bed, in the safe tranquility of his room, you allow yourself to remember all of the familiar scents that flood your scenes there. Nick’s pumpkin-flavored candles, his vanilla cologne, the smell of freshly washed bed sheets and clothes, the faint smell of mint from the lip balm nearby on the duvet. 

It’s home. 

As a heavy exhale leaves your lips, your eyes slowly open. You allow your senses to take in everything around you, from the grass poking into your clothes, the wind whipping through your hair, and the moonlight shining on your irises. 

You were finally at peace. 

“Hey,” Nick calls, his hands making their way up to both sides of your face. “Are you okay?” 

“I am now, thank you.” You reply through a heavy exhale. As you send Nick a small smile, the male sighs and brings you to his chest, both of his arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly. 

“I’m not going to pry and you can tell me when you want but, what happened back there? We were all screaming when the scare actor came out and the next thing I knew you're gone. You fucking scared me so bad.” You force your lips together into a straight line as Nick buries his face in your hair, the faint smell of your shampoo mixed with the lingering scent of your cologne immediately filling his senses. 

You immediately felt your heart twist in regret at Nick’s words. Part of you deeply regretted running off with no warning while another part of you was telling you that you did the right thing. However, you were also aware of how badly you must’ve frightened the triplets. You know how Nick felt, due to him just telling you, but what about Matt and Chris? 

You didn’t want to keep either of the boys in the dark, especially after what just happened. They deserved to know why you acted how you did.  They deserved some sort of explanation. 

“Umm..” You start, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. You feel Nick shift underneath you, probably so that he can get a better look at you. “Can you tell Matt and Chris about this later? Like, fill them in? I would tell them but I feel.. embarrassed.” 

A few beats of silence pass by before Nick replies, “Yeah, of course.” As you try to gather the words to explain what happened, Nick intently looks down at you. He unwraps one arm from around your shoulder to gently cup the side of your face, his thumb immediately beginning to caress the stubble on your jawline. You immediately feel at ease from the delicate touch, your mind momentarily going blank as you lean into Nick’s palm. 

“Well for starters, I get scared easily and just can’t handle anything scary n shit like that. I know that seems very pussy of me, but it just really freaks me out and causes a meltdown or like you saw earlier a panic attack.” You begin, your words coming out every so slowly as you refrain from making eye contact with the male above you, “I’m not the biggest fan of Halloween since the holiday is all about scaring people but I didn't want to tell you because I know you love the holiday and look forward to it every year. When you mentioned the haunted house idea, I originally didn’t want to go but I couldn't say no to you. I wanted to back out the second we got here but I didn’t want to seem like a baby in front of you guys so I just kept my mouth shut.” 

When you finish your quick explanation and silence fills the air, you begin to panic. Your mind immediately starts flooding with negative thoughts that are laced with regret and embarrassment and before you allow yourself to get lost in them, Nick’s voice silences all of them. “Babe, just because you have fears doesn’t mean you’re a pussy or a baby. Everyone has their fears, some have it worse than others, but that’s just how it is. I wish you told me about your strong dislike for this stuff but I completely understand why you didn’t want to tell me. I’ll make sure nothing frightening steps in your path okay? I’ll make sure you're safe and away from all that shit. Thank you for telling me, baby. I really appreciate it.” 

As Nick tilts your head up and brings you in for a kiss, you can’t help but smile widely against his lips. When he pulls away, your smile doesn’t falter and you opt to hide your slightly flushed face in your boyfriend’s chest. Nick can’t help but chuckle softly at the sight of your flusteredness, a cheesy smile growing on his lips as he dips down and lands more gentle pecks on the crown of your head. 

“I love you.” You mumble, your voice muffled due to the redhead’s sweater being against your mouth. 

“I love you more baby,” Nick says with a smile. “Do you want to get in the car? I feel like the grass and leaves aren’t the most comfortable things to sit on.” 

“Yes, please.” 

“Alright then, let’s go.” With a soft tap on your hip, you get up from Nick’s lap and stand to your feet. As you stretch out your sore limbs and take in the fresh night air, Nick stands up with a soft grunt. “Come on.” The male gently takes your hand in his and guides you toward the van. The moment he opens up the passenger door, Matt and Chris quickly whip their heads around to look over at the two of you, their once worried expressions falling and exchanging with one of relief. 

“You okay, kid?” Matt asks. 

“Yup.” You reply simply. As you crawl into the backseat and sit down, your gaze immediately shifts up to the two brothers looking back at you. Feeling a little intimidated by their strong stares, you quickly look over to your right to watch Nick settle himself in the seat next to you. After shutting the door with a soft thud, he looks over at you, an immediate smile overtaking his lips as he locks eyes with you. When he gives you a small wink, you bite back a giggle and quickly look away to hide the heat rushing up your face. 

“Can we get McDonald’s, please? I’m hungry.” Nick asks, one of his arms rushing to grab his seatbelt and pull it over his front half. 

“Yeah, sure. You guys wanna go home after that or…” Matt replies, his voice trailing off as he begins to check all of his mirrors. 

“We can go home,” Chris says as he reaches for the aux cord. As the brunette connects his phone and begins searching for music to play, Matt backs out of the driveway and drives off. As Highs and Lows by Lil Skies fills your ears, you find yourself leaning against Nick’s shoulder. The latter responds to your affection by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you even closer to him. As you shut your eyes and get comfortable with your boyfriend, your mind runs free from all the negative and anxious thoughts you’ve had all day. You were finally at peace with your mind and fully allowed yourself to be absorbed in Nick’s presence for the remainder of the night.  

God, do you love this boy so much. 

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[alwritey-aphrodite]

hiii, could you do evening walk with TASM! Peter. Maybe they’re neighbors and friends. Could you add some fluff, but no established relationship yet, but they have crushes on each other. They go for a walk at central park as the sun is setting and are just talking. Thank you!!!

Omg I’m so sorry I didn’t realize there was more to your request, so I hope you enjoy this anyway!! And I’d be happy to write something similar to your original request if you’d like to send another ask <3

2024 Summer Blurbs

As much as you loved summertime and all the wonderful things that came with it, like ice cream and vacations and breaks from learning, you weren’t the biggest fan of the heat. Sure, you loved warm weather and you craved the sunshine, but those days that tipped from warm to hot to blistering had you wishing for winter again. It was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed, prop open all your windows, and throw yourself on the couch with as many fans pointing to you as possible.

“Have you moved at all?” Peter asks, voice tinged with affection and a tad bit of disbelief, as he returns from a much needed grocery run, restocking on essentials like fruit and vegetables and ice cream and popsicles.

“I’ve melted into the couch cushions,” you respond dramatically, not even bothering to sit up to speak.

“This isn’t even the hottest day of the week,” he retorts, answering your groan with a laugh that rings through the apartment.

“Aunt May has air conditioning that actually works, we can go stay with her for a few days,” Peter carries on the conversation even as he works to put the groceries away, not once complaining about the fact that you haven’t moved from your perch to help, knowing just how miserable the heat makes you. It’s a kind gesture, and as beautiful as air conditioning sounds, the thought of getting up and packing your things and making the trip to May already has you sweating.

“Too much work, I’ll just lay here and melt,” you respond, Peter sighing fondly as he comes back from the kitchen.

You’re true to your word, staying on the couch with your army of fans working overtime to cool you down as the heat crests and peaks before gradually falling. The sun is starting to set by the time you stand up from longer than just going to the bathroom or grabbing something to eat.

“Wanna go for a walk now that it’s cooler than the surface of the sun?’ You ask, knowing that Peter has been dying to get out and do something. Even though he’s not as sensitive to the heat as you are, it was truly astronomically hot, and even Peter wouldn’t imagine spending more time than he had to outside.

Leaving your apartment for the first time all day, you’re met with a cool evening breeze and the rich hues of the sunset, painting everything in slight shades of orange and red and yellow, as if reflecting the absurd heat of the day.

“This is the weather I want,” you declare, your joined hands swinging in between you and Peter as you begin your walk, the evening still plenty warm but you didn’t start sweating as soon as you stepped outside, and the breeze is perfect at keeping everything warm but not miserable.

“It’s supposed to cool down starting on Friday,” Peter says hopefully, choosing to trust in the meteorologists and focus on just making it through what should be the hottest week of the year. Even though he enjoys the heat, it’s borderline dangerous to spend any time outside, so he hopes for both of your sakes, and the sake of all your summer plans, that the heat dies day soon.

“We should get another fan,” you retort, the thought of having to wait until Friday to get some relief from the insane heat filling you with dread already. And, even though Peter laughs, you stop and buy two more fans on your way home.

[yandere-paramour]

Chapter 3

“I’m not hungry,” You mumble, still nervous about the implications of that discipline thing.

She gives you a serious look, “You must eat something, love. You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“What time is it?”

“A half-hour past eight. Perfect time for you to eat something.”

You hate to admit it, but she’s right. If you refuse food now, there’s probably no chance of eating anything again until morning, and you don’t want to take that chance, “Okay, I’ll eat something.”

She flashes you a smile of perfect, shiny teeth, “Amazing, love. What would you like?”

“Just something small. I’m not really hungry.”

“For you, nothing is an inconvenience. But, let me make you something comforting. I know today has been very tiring for you,” She gives your head a comforting pat, “Please, allow me to help you up.”

She helps lift you to your feet and supports you while you walk out of the room on unsteady legs. Immediately, you start scanning your surroundings. It is a small, dark hallway to the stairs, but when you get there, your eyes widen dramatically.

The living space is huge, easily three times the size of your apartment. It was decorated in the same blue and grey color scheme as the bedroom, and you had to admit the colors calmed you. One wall was entirely large windows, showing the oranges and yellows of the setting sun illuminating the room and a view of the city skyline. It was very clean, almost too clean, like it was more of a house being shown rather than one occupied by a living human. The furniture had no spots or creases, there wasn’t any laundry on the chair, and from what you could see, there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere to be found.

She notices you looking and smiles, “Do you like it? I know it is somewhat empty now, but I figured you could decorate it to your tastes. I will give you the tour tomorrow morning after breakfast. I want you to get to know your new home.”

You visibly perk up at that. A tour will show you any possible escape routes. As soon as she goes back to work, and a CEO like her will definitely have to return to work soon, you’ll be out of here. You bite back a grin.

She goes to try and lift you at the top of the stairs.

“Wait!” you say.

She freezes instantly, “What is it, my princess? Are you afraid of heights? I promise I will hold you securely.”

That statement is nauseatingly genuine, and color rushes to your face, forcing you to look away from her, “It’s not that… I just don’t want to mess up your suit.”

“No suit is worth your comfort and safety,” She says and sweeps you into her arms in a bridal carry. She descends the stairs with no trouble, acting as though your weight is no trouble for her at all. Exactly how strong is this woman?

At the bottom of the stairs, she sets you back on your feet carefully, holding your arms to steady you, “There you go, princess. Safe and sound. See? I would never drop you.”

You blush again at her gross words, and with a grin, she moves on. She helps you to the couch, gently laying you back and tucking you in with a blanket. She turns on the large tv for you to watch, and you unwittingly relax. “I’m going to the kitchen to make you something, princess. Just rest here and I’ll be back in a few minutes,” She gives you another kiss on the forehead which you try to weasel away from, and leaves.

You relax your muscles. Whatever medicine she gave you must’ve been strong. Your head is pounding with a headache and your muscles feel weak and loose, and it hurts to move around too long. The short trip from the bedroom down the stairs to the couch was enough to tire you out. Even if she’s not currently watching you, you’d never be able to make it to the elevator, let alone out of the building.

She said you’d only be on this medication for a few days. If she was telling the truth, which you have no way of verifying but this is your only source of hope at the moment, you’d be completely clean in a few days, she would go back to work, and you’d be gone. Tonight, you just had to lay back and try to keep this woman from peppering your face and hands with any more kisses.

Your brain must be slow because thinking took a lot longer than you thought. She is back, balancing a tray with two mugs and a plate of toast.

“I thought some sugar would be good for you,” she says, pushing a mug of dark liquid into your hands. It smells nice, but you don’t trust it. If she can drug you once, she can drug you again. You eye her suspiciously.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like hot chocolate?” She cocks her head like she doesn’t understand.

“You try it first,” you mumble, afraid to push her too far, holding the mug towards her.

She gives you a pitying look, “Oh sweetheart, are you afraid I put your sleepy medicine in your cocoa? I promise, I will not give you your medicine until bedtime. The nighttime dose is higher.”

You still hold the mug out to her and she sighs but takes a sip anyway to appease you.

“I wish you would trust me, Darling, but I can be patient.”

“I will never trust you,” You mutter under your breath.

Her eyes narrowed. “Darling, respectful words, please. I will not have you being rude just because you are tired.”

Whatever words you want to spit at her die in your throat. You are tired, even if you’d rather die than admit it. Starting a fight when you’re too weak to win and possibly risking discipline, whatever that means. You’re too smart to take that chance, so you turn your eyes back to your cocoa, sipping. It is honestly good, the best cup of hot chocolate you’ve ever had.

“Good girl,” she praises, and your face heats up. Even if she is your ruthless kidnapper, she can’t be saying things like that.

She holds a piece of toast to your mouth and your face burns, but you bite obediently. This is mortifying, and you’re glad no one is watching this. She feeds you toast, and by the end, you would rather have been boiled alive than fed buttered toast by your kidnapper who cooed “My Darling princess is eating so well for me” after every bite.

She leaves the dishes in the sink and carries you back upstairs. You don’t protest this time, but your face being so close to her chest makes you extremely uncomfortable. She sets you back on the bed while she readies your bedtime medication, and you eye the door, wondering if it is worth it to try to escape.

“Are you ready, Darling?” She asks, standing over you.

Your skin crawls, and you try to give her a pathetically upset look, “Do I have to? I really don’t like needles.”

She doesn’t flinch, but you can see the pain in her eyes. Huh. The thought of your pain distresses her. This information seems useful and you file it away for later.

She still has some resolve, “Sorry, love. You need to be on your medicine for a few more days, just until you feel more settled.”

You lay back and try to close your eyes to not look at it. The feeling of a needle pricks the skin over your shoulder and you shiver. How many of these does she have? Where is she keeping them? A murky blur spreads through your body, forcing you to relax. Taking great care with you, Atalanta tucks you back under the blanket. She climbs into the bed, pulling you closer to her body. You mumble at her to get away and try to squirm out of her arms, but it gets harder and harder to resist. She is warm and solid, and the medication is good stuff; it definitely is working. Atalanta strokes your hair as you close your eyes, drifting off, thinking of in a few days when you can escape and get back to your own life.

[marchsfreakshow]

Just There [Colin Zabel]

Fluff / drabble

You were standing outside of the police station, waiting for Colin, when Mare comes out and quickly raises her own concern for you.

First Colin fic please be nice to me, this probably won't sound too great </3

No one's perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

A warm coffee in their hands, and wind blowing past. "...hey." They piped up when they heard Mare's voice. She still looked as frazzled as ever, with tired eyes, messy hair, and a thick jacket over her. Still holding that goddamn vape as usual.

"oh, hi Mare. Um, is Colin leaving work soon?"

"..yeah, he's stressed. I think. Kinda can't figure out this case we're doing." She sighed and gripped her vape, ready to potentially use it. They nodded understandingly but sighed again, and took a warming sip of their coffee. "Just go home and stay there until he comes home, seriously."

They shook their head firmly. "I'd rather be here and make sure he's alright now." A concerned feeling fell over their furrowed brows. Shivering in the cold spring, wearing a small coat, and thin jeans. Underestimating the weather yet again.

"That's your choice." And Mare went on her way. Turning on her car and driving away.

Only a few minutes went by before the door opened, and they turned on their heel, smiling at the man walking past. He didn't even recognise his significant other until he did a double take. An instant smile and they were wrapped in his arms, body heat warming them. Gloved hands holding their freezing face. It could've caused a blush due to how warm Colin felt from being inside all day. Kiss after kiss after kiss. "Suprise." They chuckled, resting a free hand on his chest.

"Definitely a surprise. Welcome one though." Rubbing their arms, he smiled widely and kept soft eye contact. "Let's get home okay? You gotta be freezing." A nod and his hand placed on their back as a quick walk to the car ensued. A small blast of wind made them both shiver, now sitting in the car just as rushed as the wind.

The car got turned on quick and the tiny radiator on as rapidly. "Ready?"

"Always." He grinned towards them. "How long have you been waiting out here for me?"

"ehhh, not long."

"how long?" The car started, and they drove to Zabel's place. His voice was a bit sterner, and staring over at them. A click of their tongue a chuckle.

"about like an hour and a half."

"of course you were." Zabel chuckled, rubbing their shoulder a bit as trees and roads zipped past them.

Comfortable silence until they got to Zabel's place. Sighs and slow movements while they got comfortable in each other's arms on the couch. Crackles and pops of the tiny fire. Sleepy stares at the flaming blends of red, orange and yellow. No words spoke, but so many thoughts were expressed. The room lull was added by soft kisses, one after the other.

Staying by each other's side, never leaving. Finding comfort in a room if the other was just standing there, minding their business.

"Love you.." sleepily mumbled, nuzzling into their neck.

"I love you more Colin." Whispered back, leaning against him. Falling asleep to the peaceful quiet of a fire and kisses.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @coentinim @nahoyasboyfriend @bluerthanvelvet444 @tatelangdonsweater @fear-is-truth @newwavesylviaplath

[judgementdaysunshine]

May I please request headcanons for Bruce, Damian, Dick, Jason, and Tim With an s/o who is a cat lover? <3 🐈💗🎀 ( When you can or have time :3 )

Omg of course anon ♥️

Tim

He grew up with a dog and cat for years until his parents died and the animals were given away

He knew right after meeting you how much of a big animal lover you were after you found a cat and despite some of the team being cautious mostly because some of them had never seen a cat up close or knew what they were until others explained it to them

Slowly with time the orange cat you found became the team pet and you all named him Alfredo and he was everyone's furry friend always going around for pets and sounding like he talked to everyone

Not too long after the two of you started dating you had thought about getting a pet to help not only with your depression but for both yours and tim's anxiety but you waited for awhile and soon you both got a white cat you named milkshake from her love of ice cream

The two of you would lay on the floor or one of your beds reading or watching tv petting her while she purrs gently making biscuits on the blanket or one of you feeling the quiet bliss

Dick

He was a natural animal lover for as long as he can remember trying to bring home every stray he found and take care of them even when bruce found out and reluctantly let him have the animal or keep it for a few days before taking it to the local no kill shelter

He immediately fell in love with both your cats Buttermilk and Cookie who you had for years since you were 12 cookie being given to you as a Christmas present from your grandparents and buttermilk from your older sister on your birthday

The two of you both found strays and would take them to the shelter after nursing them back to health or give them to friends or your family members

He soon surprised you with a small kitten he found that the two of you named Kagome from your love of japanese animes

Jason

He always had a soft spot for animals having his own dog Ace who always helped him with life and his own mental state after all he went through

He also developed a bond with your calico kitten named Mitten who always liked to sleep on your chest or belly under the covers and soon she started sleeping in jay's hoodie sleeves and beside his neck

The next thing you knew that sometimes you would get pictures from Dick or Tim with him holding a stray cat or asleep on a roof with a kitten in his jack making you smile saving every picture

Damian

He had quite a bit of pets growing up and still had some of them including his dog Titus who he had ever since being under Bruce's care and training

He immediately had a bond with your orange cat Pancake and was always petting or holding the cat or even sharing abit of his food with him whenever you weren't looking

After awhile of the two of you being together and moving in to a house you surprised him with a new cat you got from the shelter that he ended up naming Iris due to one eye being brown and the other being yellow

And both of the cats got along well even sleeping on your pillows when the two of you were asleep one sleeping beside you and the other beside him

Bruce

He liked animals he just never really had any growing up he can say that he only had 3 pets throughout his life all of them when he was younger

The first one being a hamster his parents got him for his birthday that he had two years before they died,the second one was from Alfred a couple of months after his parents died and that one was a rabbit that helped him quite a bit,and the last one was when he was a teenager that used to be his friend's pet but couldn't care for it anymore and the last one was a rat

You decided as a surprise for his birthday even though you had only been together for 4 months to get him a cat that you thought would help him

When he saw the fluffy brown cat in your lap he was confused but over the next while he soon was holding the cat and even named it brownie

Soon the cat was stuck to him from sleeping next to him,rubbing his leg in the batcave,or even just playing with his cape which made you giggle

[giggly-squiggily]

Nailed It! (Blue Lock)

Heyo! It's been a minute since I've written for Blue Lock! After fangirling over Bachisagi with the wonderful @intheticklecloset- this fic came to be! :D I hope you like it friend! :3

Summary: Bachira finds fake nails and decides he wants claws. Shenanigans ensue.

Bachira all but threw the bag in his face the second he came in. “I bought claws!”

“Claws?” Chigiri asked once his initial shock wore off. Bachira grinned as he dug into the bag.

“CLAWS!” He cried once more, presenting the pack of stick on nails. Plain in appearance, they shined under the fluorescent lights of the facility. “See?”

“Pfft-” The redhead giggled, taking the box and examining them. “Claws indeed. Why’d you buy fake nails?”

“‘Cause.” Bachira didn’t add more, dumping the remains of his goodies across the futon. An assortment of colorful nail polish and stickies fell out. “I wanted claws!”

“....You want me to do your nails?”

“Yeah! Give me claws!”

Chigiri blinked. Then he laughed, nodding. “Alright, I’ll give you ‘claws’.” Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

~~~

Unsurprisingly, Chigiri was amazing at this stuff.

With the precision of a surgeon, he held Bachira’s hands in his own as he carefully placed each fake nail. His hair was loosely tied back, falling over his shoulder as he leaned in to check if they were straight. “Good- you don’t want these crooked- it hurts.”

“You’ve worn claws before?” Bachira smiled happily, kicking his feet under the table as he watched. His other hand was already adorned with fake nails. The urge to tap them against the table and make a clicky sound was strong, but Chigiri insisted he waited until he had them painted.

“No- I’m allergic to the adhesive. Makes my fingers turn red.” Chigiri wrinkled his nose as he adjusted the remaining finger. “My sister wears them all the time though- I used to help her out. She could never get them to stay.”

“Hm.” Bachira nodded. “Do you paint your nails?”

“Not lately. They always chipped after practice. Hopefully these will stay on.” Just before Bachria’s turn, the dribbler insisted on painting his friends. Chigiri’s fingers were now coated with a surprisingly even set of pink.

Except for his ring fingers. Those were orange. “Kuni nails.” Bachira winked, making him blush and roll his eyes.

“I’m a good claw painter! And you are too- oooo.” Bachira forgot what he was saying when the first layer of blue touched his nails. It looked so much like Isagi’s eyes. “That’s pretty!”

“You picked them out- I assume you knew what you were doing.” Chigiri gave him a teasing brow raise. Heat creeped up Bachira’s collar as he averted his gaze, watching the redhead work. “Don’t squirm- you’ll mess up the design.”

“Design-” Bachira leaned forward to look, only for Chigiri to push him back in his seat with a pointed glare. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know you could draw!”

“I er..can’t. I can make squiggles though.” Chigiri laughed softly, making Bachira smile. “I hope you don’t mind them.”

Bachira took his hands, posing them the way his mom did whenever she got her own nails painted. Stripes of yellow cut through the blue on his ring fingers, the rest a beautiful application of blue. Chigiri even managed to put some of the sticky gems on them, really making them pop.

“I love them!” He breathed, giggling as he hugged the other. “Thanks Chi-Chi! I’m gonna wear them forever!”

“Heh, no problem. C-Careful, they’re not dry yet!” Chigiri called after him as Bachira ran off, giggling the entire time.

He couldn’t WAIT to show Isagi!

~~~

“Look look! My claws!” Bachira shoved them in pretty much everyone’s face, wiggling his fingers for the full effect. As soon as they were dry he was waving them around, clicking them against water bottles and anything that would make noise. Kunigami jokingly told him he should do ASMR with them- Bachira tried but was far too loud right off the bat.

“Wow, look at those. They’re pretty!” Isagi giggled as he took Bachira’s hands, taking them in. “Chigiri painted them for you?”

“No, I did.” Raichi called out, earning a small burst of giggles from the others. His own nails were painted black- courtesy of said redhead. “I’ll do yours next, Isagi. Give me your digits!”

Isagi rolled his eyes as he turned back to Bachira, finding him no longer there. “Bachi-”

Something blunt but ticklish trailed against his neck. He shuttered with a sharp yelp, diving forward. “Ahah!”

Silence, the rest of Team Z looking at him with looks of both curiosity and amusement. Isagi felt his face burn.

“Ooo…” Bachira cooed from behind, something dangerous in his tone. “Was that…”

Isagi had two options. Stay and take it or run and get it anyway.

He opted for the latter.

“Isagi!” Bachira called after him as he took off, flying over futons and people as he bolted out the door, the dribbler hot on his trail. “Come back here!”

Nope, no way! Not happening! It was bad enough that Bachira knew his worst tickle spots. With those nails…

He was gonna kill Chigiri. He’ll plan his revenge later.

For now, he needed to RUN-

A dead end! He turned with wide eyes as Bachira began a slow ascent, glittery nails wiggling with devious intent. “Isagi~”

He looked both ways, knowing it was useless. Bachira had him cornered. “Bachira! Bachira- now wahahit just a mohohment!”

“No can do! The monster’s telling me to get you, so here I COME!” Bachira charged, easily trapping his boyfriend against the wall as his fingers skittered and danced against the exposed skin of his neck. “Tickle tickle tickle!”

“AH! Ahehahahahahhaha! Bahahhachihihihirahahha! Heahhahahahahha!” The other boy squealed as he sank to the floor, half trapped by Bachira’s legs as the other pressed into him. Those dastardly nails danced against his skin, sending waves of sensitivity across his nerves. “Wahahahahait, wahahhait- thhehehehey’ll fahahhahahall oohohohohohofff!”

“Silly Isagi- I know they will! That just means I’m gonna have to use them to their fullest potential!” Bachira giggled, tugging his boyfriend gently until he was half-lying, half sitting up against the wall. As he went down, a strip of skin revealed itself, giving Bachira a new opening.

“Bahahahachi- Bahahchi- WHAHAHHAIT!” The brunette all but shrieked when Bachira’s new “claws” found the soft skin of his waist, gently tracing the skin along his lower ribs and sending him through the roof. “DOOHOHOHON’T NOOHOHOHT TEHEHEHEHERE!”

“Oo, someone’s ticklish! Tell me- does it tickle more or less with the nails?” The bob-cutted player snickered as he stuck a hand up Isagi’s sweatshirt, clawing at his skin as Isagi squealed and thrashed against the floor. “I bet it’ll tickle way more if I do this~” He dragged them slowly, watching as his boyfriend arched and wheezed at the feeling. “Am I right, Blue Skies?”

“BAAHAHCHIHIHIHIRAHHAHA! GEHAHAHAH PLEHAHAHHASE!” Isagi was sure he was going to die- he was starting to see stars and his body felt light. If he were being honest, he didn’t mind it all that much.

Then Bachira yelped and pulled his hands away and his ascend to the afterlife came to an abrupt halt. “Ehehehahha..yohoohu gohohohod?” He gasped out, hands coming around his belly as he weakly looked up.

“Ow…I didn’t realize that would hurt.” Bachira moaned, rubbing his fingers. Two of his fake nails had popped off, and a third was hanging on by a few strands of glue. “My claws..”

Isagi sat up with some effort, taking in the dribbler’s hands. Gently, he took them in his own, rubbing soothing circles against the aching fingers. “Sorry they popped off. They were cool while they lasted, though.”

“Hmm.” Bachira nodded, sounding a bit glum. Isagi smiled as he brought his hand to his lips, kissing the dribbler’s bruising fingers. The gesture was enough to shock him out of his pout.

“There. All better.” Isagi grinned after kissing the last of his fingers, scrunching his face up when he got a taste of nail polish. “Gross- how do people eat with this stuff on? I feel like it’d make everything taste weird.”

Bachira stared at him. Then he busted out laughing, falling against Isagi’s shoulder. “Ehehehhe! I lohohove you so much, Bluuhue skies!” He pulled back until he and Isagi were face to face, their foreheads pressed together as he gave him the sweetest of smiles. “Do you want me to kiss it all better?”

Isagi only laughed, nodding as he closed his eyes, Bachira’s lips capturing his own soon after.

Thanks for reading!

[quitealotofsodapop]

A while ago, you mentioned an idea.

This idea said that the Tripitaka cubs could use part of the energy of Tripitaka's suitors to fill what they lack.

Did any son of Tripitaka inherit anything from Azure? What face did the pilgrims and brotherhood members make when they saw that baby?

Ref.

Haha! Tripitaka isn't beating the "has feelings for Azure"-allegations in this AU anytime soon!

Tripitaka's virgin pregnancy steals Dao/Life Energy from his suitors to ensure the cubs aren't genetic clones.

Hilariously I could see one small trait of Azure's appearing in the tiger cubs, but it's in Boguang - the second born panther.

Notably his mane. Bonus if the mane itself is bright yellow-orange.

Boguang: "Mama, look! I'm growing a beard like Uncle Sandy!" Tripitaka, quietly panicking: "That's... lovely, my little sunset!! You look so distinguished!" Boguang: (*delighted kitten behaviour*) :3 The other two cubs: "Aww! No fair!" "I want a beard too!" Wukong: (*aggressively glares at Azure*) Azure: (*proud lion dad noises*)

The rest of the Pilgrims get a look at the cub's "beard" and similar mixed reactions of pride and glaring-at-Azure ensure. XD

Any trait that would be obvious from birth would be immediately pointed out by either the Pilgrims or the Brotherhood when the cubs were born.

One of the cubs: (*is clearly a Liger cub*) The Pilgrims: (*staring daggers at Azure*) The Brotherhood: (*shared looks of shock and amusement*) Azure: (*confused, scared, and proud? Purring, and Tail is swishing happily*) Tripitaka: (*too tired to argue or explain How it happened.*) Peng, breaking the silence: "Well... you two certainly worked fast." Wukong, furious on his Master's behalf: "Now wait just a minute-!" Macaque, chuckling: "Guess you and Manjushri are in-laws now, fluffy!" Zhu Bajie: "I've heard of "Waking the Baby", but never so sudden that it becomes yours!" Wukong: "GUYS, NO!"

Laughter erupts amongst the Brotherhood and the Pilgrims as Wukong tries strangling Azure, Bajie and Peng all at once. Tripitaka eventually makes an angry roar sound to make everyone except Guanyin leave.

(By the way, the joke Bajie made is a euphemism in some languages where sexual activity accidentally induces labor)

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room, and his voice is a familiar sound

to absolutely NO ONE'S surprise, here's some rayllum making out <3

The sun of the day they’d set off had just reached its peak when fatigue finally started taking its toll on Callum. Yawns, slower and sloppier flaps of his wings as he lost altitude bit by bit, speed considerably dropping, too.

Rayla only suggested stopping when land finally blend into view, the green and yellows and oranges of badlands a welcome shift from the constant icy blues below, making sickness churn perpetually, deep in her gut from the very start.

Still a bit rocky steering-wise, but at least not dropping as much as she had initially, Rayla maneuvred herself closer to Callum, pointing ahead even as he smiled sleepily, droopily at her from a few feet above.

A soft wing brushed her hand, a feather shedding, and Rayla curled her fingers around it as she told him, “Let’s take a break. You look exhausted.”

He shook his head, clearly forcing himself to brighten up and soar just a bit higher for her benefit. “I’m okay! Just- just zoned out.”

“Callum.”

“Rayla,” he hummed happily, shooting her a cheeky grin.

He barrel-rolled to soar under her on his back, smiling up at her lazily as Rayla shot him her best pleading eyes. “I’m tired, too. Just a wee break?”

She yawned in a manner she was well aware was by no means convincing, but Callum had never been one to refuse her anything, especially not now, not with… that. Not with his fingertips and shuddering gasps still slathered over every inch of her skin, not with that unfair way he’d smirked at her from above in the dim lighting with the feel of one hand on her face and the other between her legs still hot everywhere.

And he claimed she was selfless. They had all the time in the world now, the prison finally secure and his family safe and her parents just within their reach. The first moment they’d had to breathe in what felt like eons. But he was rushing, wanting to get her parents back as soon as possible, as if she couldn’t afford to add another two hours to what was already nine years of waiting.

But maybe she could be a little selfish by taking advantage of the break. That would be for her benefit, which was what he’d been focused on. So it wouldn’t be a lie, necessarily. Just an… ulterior motive.

His eyes sparkled in gratitude, and he managed to land a light, glancing kiss to her hand, his aim off without his hands to take her, to hold her. Rayla giggled, blowing a kiss back and melting at the way he mimed catching it against his chest with both wings, rolling again–showing off for her, clearly, which was even dorkier and sweeter and Callum–to regain his balance and momentum.

Six more rounds of exchanging blown kisses through the wind were exchanged by the time Rayla finally led them to touch down at a plateau carved into the side of a mountain.

Callum went first, banishing his wings so he could help steady her as she landed, stumbling into his arms as the sensation of weightlessness vanished.

“You alright?” he asked, following through with tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like he’d almost done that night spent huddled up on the freezing boat.

Rayla nodded, straightening but keeping their hands together just because she could. Because she could touch him and he could touch her, and they had. “You never fail to catch me, Mister Mage.”

read more on ao3 :)

[thewriterghost]

Lovely!!!! Would you write something about Bucky x reader/ friend who moved to another state for work? They used to be really close and talk a lot but as things go with life and distance they drifted a part a bit? But maybe from time to time she’ll think she’ll see him from behind or a side profile walking home at night and think of him and send him a “thinking of you / we should catch up! text not realizing that from time to time that who she saw was Bucky. He will check in on her and see how she’s doing in her new life

Hello!! I'm so sorry, this is so late 😭 between school and internship I hardly got any time to write. In fact, I wrote this at work lol, hopefully you like it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You moved away from the compound because of school. It's been a lonely few months now. That's definitely the reason you think you're seeing Bucky from the corner of your eye every time you look around, right?

An autumn breeze catches you off guard, right when you are leaving your school building for the day. It was warmer during the day, you think as you walk to your bus stop. It's a lonely time of day, an orange glow of sunlight illuminates the empty bus stop.

As you make it a point to crash every red or yellow leaf you see on your way without being too obvious, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar metallic glow. That same feeling you always get around him, the butterflies and the hippos come back to your stomach, making your heart beat a million times a moment. Your eyes snap towards it, but it disappears all too fast for you to spot, leaving you with disappointment and longing.

You miss him. You try not to, but it's not easy not talking to him everyday like you did before, not being able to hang out on 3 am when both of you are too stubborn to go to sleep, or not being able to just exist at the same place at the same time with various animals in your stomach (figuratively).

You grab your phone from your pocket and click on his name on your messaging app. You hand hovers over the text box for a while, until you decide to just write to him. It's not like you haven't been talking since you left, it's more like you didn't want to talk all too much because of how much you'd want to just drop everything and go to him. Still, you think, enough is enough.

"Hey, you busy?"

You wait for a moment, anxiously nibbling on your lower lip. It doesn't take him more than 60 seconds to write back.

"Nope. You?"

You write back, biting down a smile.

"Nope. Just got out of school, going home."

You can almost hear his grumble-ish answers through your phone. A message pops up.

"Isn't it late? I thought you got off at 4."

You must've told him your schedule, but your mind doesn't come up with a memory to support it. You shrug it off and type.

"Yeah, I had to make a presentation and I was the last one of the class so the professor just agreed to do it now rather than next week."

"Does that mean you're free next week?"

You can't help but smile brightly. Looks like you're not the only one missing the other.

"Does that mean you miss me?"

You can almost see his scoff. You giggle to yourself.

"Does that mean we can meet?" He answers. You jump at the opportunity almost too fast.

"Yeah, sure. When are you free?"

"Whenever you're free."

"You don't have a mission or anything?"

"I'll bail." His answer makes you laugh out loud, maybe the first sincere laugh since you've been here.

"If it's not going to be a trouble for you."

"It won't. When should I pick you up?"

You check your schedule on your mind. You would be free tomorrow afternoon.

"Tomorrow afternoon? 2-ish maybe?"

"Sounds good."

You contemplate on whether to write it or not, but then think why not and type.

"I missed you, you know." And you put the phone on your pocket, face starting to burn up.

Your phone buzz, and you get the phone out faster than light.

"I missed you too." Your eyes glance over the letters more than once, each time smiling even more, until you find yourself giggling to yourself at 6 pm on an empty bus stop.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Another text appears on your screen, leaving you happier that you've ever been since the last few months.

Next day goes too slow for your taste. You keep finding yourself shaking your knee up and down with anticipation.

You are out of the door when the clock hits 2 pm. As you arrive at the school gates you realize you haven't told him where to come. You pull out your phone to type, but stop at your tracks when you hear it.

"Hey."

Sitting on a black motorcycle, blue eyes and black jacket catches you off guard. A smile creeps on to your lips.

"Hey." You return the sentence as you find your feet and move towards him. He has a gentle smile as well, uncharacteristically for him as people would say, but not for you. You've seen him like this before. When you were up all night and baked not one, not two, but three batches of cookies together, you've seen that same smile everytime your eyes have met. Or that one time when it was raining too hard and you were too sick to go to mission, and he stayed to look after you, cuddling you since he can't get sick because of serum.

He takes your helmet from the back and after looking at you with that sweet smile of his for a moment, he puts it on for you, clipping it with delicate movements.

"Hop on." He instructs and you obey, hugging him from behind with a pair of red cheeks which thankfully can't be seen thanks to your helmet.

As he takes off, you don't bother to ask where to. After a brief 10-15 minutes, he stops in front of a small cafe near a park.

"Were you around here yesterday?" You ask, recalling the silver glimmer you saw yesterday evening.

"I was on a mission." He shrugs.

"Huh." You mumble. Seeing his puzzled look, you add. "I thought I saw you yesterday, after school. Right before I texted you, in fact."

"You must've missed me a lot." He smirks, opening the door to the cafe for you. Always a gentleman.

"Must've." You return the smile as you walk in.

As you both get your coffees and pastries, you decide to ignore the fact that he probably was here yesterday. In fact, he probably was around since you moved here. Watching out for you, worrying about you, missing you.

"What are you smiling about?" You come back to real life when he gently nudges your shoulder with his.

"Oh, nothing." You shake your head. "I was just thinking, we should meet more often. It's been too long."

"Yeah, agreed." He replies with a smile of his own. You don't realize the look in his eyes, confirming your theory.

[kairiscorner]

omg i have a request for denji 🤭🤭 first off:: time skip (aka high school) fluff pls, fem!reader, maybeee something like the reader was gonna go on a date (planned to meet up at the local park?) but got stood up and while denji is going on a walk he spots her and recognizes her from school (same class or just saw in halls idc) decides to take her on a date?? idk it sounds cute lolol

hearts' day 002.

a surprise date with denji.

"what's got you all sad and stuff?"

a gruff voice asked you while you sobbed into your now wet palms. you looked up slowly at him with watery eyes and trembling lips, hoping you didn't look so pathetic, like you didn't just get stood up on a date you waited a whole week for.

you sniffed back your snot and blinked away your hot tears as you realized it was that blonde kid in your class, hayakawa, asking you what was up with you–his pinky finger gracefully shoved away in his nostril, picking his nose, while he looked down at you with his amber colored irises.

you didn't know what was more pitiful, the fact you got stood up by someone you really liked and were left alone after waiting around for them for nearly 3 hours at this point, or the fact that you were being sort-of-but-not-really comforted by a stranger, who wasn't exactly a stranger, from your class, picking his nose for a sizeable booger.

with a shaky breath, you looked up at the color of the setting sun–the deep, fiery red, orange, and yellow hues in the sky reminding you of how long it had been since you arrived in this damned park, only to be made a fool out of when nobody arrived to take you to the date you really, really looked forward to going.

"...i got stood up." you muttered, wiping away your tears as your gaze fell down to your bright, shining shoes that you bought specifically to impress your date. denji let out a small, 'huh' sound, and sat next to you on the bench; flicking away a small booger he caught, then wiping his finger on his shirt after.

"well, what if we went on a date?" he asked you nonchalantly. your eyes widened at his suggestion, but a part of you felt a little grosses out by it. "us?" you asked in sheer confusion. "yeah. what, don't wanna go on a date with the one and only chainsaw man? too scared ta do it? i bet you are." he said with a mischievous grin and a devilish tone of mockery in his voice as he challenged you.

this boy always said he was chainsaw man, not like anyone–nor you–believed him, but at this point, you were too broken up to really give a damn about anything else he was saying aside from the fact he was more than willing to take a pretty girl who's been disappointed and heartbroken out for the night of her life.

you sighed, leaning your head against the bench's backrest and shrugged. "okay." you murmured, making denji chuckle and stand up. he extended his clean hand towards you and gave you a sharp, toothy smile. "i've got a game of uno waiting for us back at my place, and a little devil to take care of, but she's not gonna give a shit. maybe."

you find yourself chuckling ironically at how sweet his gesture is, offering to take you to his place to play a game of uno, maybe get some takeout from that chinese place he's been mumbling to himself about craving their food for, and maybe brewing you some tea even though he hates it–all because he's heard you like it.

"ya like tea?" he asked you when he turned to you, not realizing you two were holding hands this whole time. you snap out of your inner thoughts and look him in the eyes. you nod and raise an eyebrow in surprise. "how'd you know?"

"dunno, y'seem like the type to like tea. you're like... all pretty and sweet and shit, y'know? and i heard you talkin' to yer friends once about this tea house y'really wanted to go to someday, so... yeah, if i get the money, i'll take ya there. but fer now, yer stuck with the denji hayakawa special brew." he joked, making your cheeks feel a little warm at how thoughtful he was being without even trying.

something tells you this new surprise date would be a little better than you expected, hopefully.