#fics of fall 2022

[plus-size-reader]

Spidey Sense

Fics of Fall 2022

Peter Parker x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2355 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Carving a Jack-o'-lantern with Peter for the first time, which doesn’t exactly go as planned.

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Peter felt it before he heard you.

Pain. 

It was dull and faded as quickly as it came but it was there, a slight tingle under his skin, which could only really mean one thing.

It was you. 

His spidey sense only really got like this when you needed help. It felt different, more intense somehow.

So, before he’d even had a chance to realize what was going on or to put any thought at all into what it could have been, Peter shot up, turning to find that the space normally occupied by you in his bed was empty.

Which, coupled with the panic pricking at the corners of all of his senses, was more than enough to worry him.

Under any normal circumstances, it might not have been that big of a deal. There were plenty of innocent explanations for something like that, but the two of you didn’t exactly live under normal circumstances. 

You lived in a world where nothing was certain, and nothing was safe.

So, as soon as he heard that crashing and clamoring coming from the kitchen once again, he was off. It didn’t matter what was going on or where you were, he wasn’t going to rest until he figured it out.

He couldn’t help it.

Peter was already a bit touchy where you were concerned, but this morning, his mind was racing, cooking up several haunting scenarios that all ended in you being maimed and murdered.

His steps were careful and quiet as he rounded the corner from his bedroom until he found you in the kitchen, his focus set on the sound of your heartbeat as he tried to plan his next move. 

Your breath was even, all things considered, but your pulse was quicker than he would have liked. 

It wasn’t until he heard a muffled curse from you that he dropped his guard and emerged from his hiding place, finally blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Y/N?” he called, pretty confident now that you were alone. If someone else were here, he would have been able to hear them or sense them in some capacity by this point. 

Because sometimes superpowers were awesome.

Not that your being alone in any way explained what you were doing this early in the morning, or why you were bleeding. 

The answer to which wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting, on either count. 

You sighed at the sound of his voice, disappointed in yourself for waking him up. You had been trying to get this done before the sun came up, as a surprise, but obviously, it wasn’t going to work now.

Stupid pumpkin. 

“I’m here” 

Peter could hear how defeated you sounded from where he was, but it wasn’t until he switched on the overhead light that he understood why. 

You were sitting there, in the center of the kitchen floor, with a pumpkin resting between your thighs.

For some reason.

He didn’t even bother to keep the laughter that bubbled up in his throat at bay because it was so ridiculous. 

You had to be kidding.

“What are you doing?” he muttered, taking in the sight in front of him with a mild, albeit sleepy, gleam in his eyes.

He had just woken up, after all. 

“I wanted to carve this stupid pumpkin for you, but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” you explained, gesturing to the large orange pumpkin which was laying in a lake of its own guts and seeds. 

It always seemed so easy, but now that you were attempting the seasonal craft for yourself, you realized you couldn’t have been more wrong.

This was impossible. 

“And, what happened there?” Peter wondered, recalling the initial reason for his waking when he noticed a thin line of crimson red blood, actively dripping down from your palm onto your wrist. 

It instantly set those same alarms off in his head as the man you loved crossed the room to inspect the wound, more for himself than anything.

He had to make sure you were okay before even acknowledging the rest of it.

“I slipped and cut myself” you shrugged, letting him paw at you as he saw fit until he was content that you would be okay. 

The cut didn’t look too deep, or dangerous in any way, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

He was sure it hurt.

There was silence between you for a moment as Peter busied himself cleaning up the cut as best he could with the corner of his tee shirt, which would surely be ruined after this point.

Not that he even seemed to mind. 

“How did you manage to cut your hand carving a pumpkin?” he wondered, what felt like forever, that familiar embarrassment returning to you all at once. 

This was what you got for dating an Avenger.

“I slipped,” you repeated, turning the gourd in your lap until he could see the face you’d begun to carve into it.

So far, you had managed to get one triangular eye mapped out, along with a small square nose, which was initially supposed to be another triangular.

You’d had to improve after narrowly cutting the tip of your pointer finger off. 

“This whole thing’s a bit more technical than I thought”

Peter laughed at that, this time letting himself get caught up in just how much he loved you. Of all the things that could have woken him up today, this was probably one of the most endearing. 

…and random. 

“Don’t laugh. I just wanted to be festive” you pouted, finally setting the knife down in defeat. Whatever it was you created this morning, it certainly didn’t look like any jack-o-lantern you’d ever seen. 

Still, Peter didn’t make fun of you. 

The end result of your effort was hilarious, but the care you’d put into it was real and it was obvious this mattered to you, so he wanted to help.

“I’m not laughing at you” Spiderman assured, that same gentle grin permanently affixed to his face that completely contradicted his point. 

He couldn’t help it.

You were just so cute. 

“Forget it. We don’t need a pumpkin anyway” you sighed again, a real frustration taking over now. You had really put everything you had into this, and having it go south so quickly had really put a damper on your mood. 

Thankfully, Peter wasn’t quite as easily discouraged as you were when it came to these things, mostly because he didn’t get to be. 

He had to be Spiderman, and that had changed quite a bit about him in everyday life too.

This wasn’t life or death for him like some of the things in his life were, and he didn’t have to put pressure on himself for it to be perfect. 

“I’ll tell you what…why don’t we get some breakfast, and get that cleaned up?” he suggested, vaguely gesturing to your hand until you gave it over so he could press a kiss to your knuckles. 

Then, before you could argue further, he hummed, filling the silence just enough to let you know he wasn’t finished. 

He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just going to accept that.

“After that, we can figure this out together”

~

After breakfast had been eaten and Peter had actually gotten a chance to wake up, you two finally sat down with pumpkins in mind. 

You were going to do this. 

Even if it took all day. 

“So, have you ever done this?” you questioned, sitting down with your partially mutilated pumpkin and a clean kitchen knife, along with a purple patterned bandage, courtesy of the man you loved.

The last thing he wanted was for you to cut yourself again, especially not for a seasonal craft. 

Peter grinned, thinking about all the Halloweens he’d celebrated thus far, and all the happy memories he had. 

Memories that had never included carving a jack-o-lantern like this one, “Like this? No, but how hard can it be?” 

“I don’t know, but usually when you ask that something bad happens” you shrugged, doing some recalling of your own, back to all the times you were talking about.

Your boyfriend laughed, rolling his eyes as he thought it over. You had a point this time, but this time, it wasn’t that serious. All the damage that could have been done already had been. 

“I’m pretty sure we can handle this, babe” Peter assured, confident that no matter what, this wasn’t a monumental task and even if it was, you could figure it out together. 

How hard could it be? 

“So, what do you want to do first?” 

There was silence from him for a split second as your partner twirled the pen in his hand around a few times, considering what he wanted to do with what you’d given him. 

It was still a pretty blank canvas, and if anything, you’d given him more room to make something that was just a touch creepy. 

It was going to be so cool.

“I think you take this marker and draw a face on him, so we don’t just stab without any direction” he allowed, unscrewing the cap and handing it over to you so that you could outline a comical doodle on the face of the pumpkin. 

Peter had only watched Aunt May do this once or twice as a kid, but it seemed simple enough, especially considering all the things you two had done together thus far.

It should be simple, and it was. 

All you had to do was do it together. 

“What do you think? Like this?” you hummed, both you and Peter cocking your heads to the side just to survey your work from another angle. 

It was pretty good. 

Really good. 

“That’s perfect, just like you” came your boyfriend’s confident reply, a gentle peck falling on the side of your face. 

He loved you so damn much.

“Then, I think we just carve the inside of the shapes out” he continued, watching as you plucked the knife off the floor and set off on a mission to do just that, only for Peter to intercept you at the last second. 

“I think I’ll do this part if you don’t mind” 

It briefly crossed your mind to argue with this whole thing being a surprise and all, but after giving it another second thought, you realized what he must have been thinking and nodded.

There were only so many things one person could handle this early in the morning. 

Besides, if he cut himself doing this like this, it would heal far quicker than it would for you. 

You grinned, that same smile on your face that you hadn’t been able to push down since you came up with this idea in the first place. 

It was just so seasonal and fun. 

Peter was quiet as he focused, his attention mostly poised on the task at hand as he removed chunks and slivers of rind until finally, it was done. 

Once he’d decided it was exactly what he wanted, the man in question showed off his craftsmanship with a wide grin to match your own. 

It would be a lie to say that he didn’t get why people did this. 

It was fun. 

In fact, Peter was sure that this was, by far, the best idea you had ever had.

You hummed in approval, you should have known his steady hands would lend themselves well to a task like this. “Just like that, I believe we carved our very own pumpkin” 

“Now, all that’s left to do is find some candles and set it outside” Peter decided, immediately getting up to find where the two of you had left the candles last.

All of this was for nothing if you couldn’t put it out on display for the neighborhood.

So, that’s exactly what you did. 

Ignoring the cold chill of the biting fall air, you and Peter huddled around your pumpkin on the porch, watching as the candle he’d lit within it danced under the influence of the wind.

It was perfect.

The edges were a little crooked and one of the eyes was a little smaller than the other but considering how it came to be like that, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

“What do you think?” he hummed, reaching out to take your hand in his own as he admired the work you’d done together. 

It was pretty cute. 

You giggled, swinging your hands between you, “I think that I have the greatest boyfriend there’s ever been” 

“So, I’m curious, why didn’t you just get me up before you started opening it up?” Peter wondered, wrapping you up in his arms mindlessly from where he stood, and pulling you into his body.

It was so goofy. 

You knew that now, seeing how it went, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to make fun of you for this. 

In all the years that you’d known him, Peter had never made fun of you for anything. 

“I thought it would be a cute surprise” 

At your admission, Peter just shrugged again, recalling all the slamming and banging that had met him as soon as he opened his eyes “I don’t know. You weren’t exactly quiet” 

He had a point there. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to him now. 

“In my defense, I really didn’t think you’d wake up” you laughed, well aware of the exact reason you’d made the decision you had.

Peter had always been notoriously hard to wake up. 

For as long as you’d known him. 

Even given what you’d all taken to calling his spidey sense, he slept like a rock and it was hard to rouse him from that. Though, clearly, relying on that this morning had been a mistake. 

“Well, next time, why don’t we just sleep in and learn new things together” he grinned, wiping away a bit of pumpkin that had somehow ended up on your chin at some point during the whole exchange. 

“Sounds like a plan” 

[kuroshika]

i very much ache for lithuanian hannibal and southern will. as someone with a thick ass southern accent, just fucking imagine.

they've just committed the grisliest murder yet, and they're standing over the body. will's covered in blood and trembling and hannibal has never been more in love.

"beautiful work, will."

"ha, yeah. sure you don't wanna toss me on the pile with 'em and be rid of me? it'd be pretty easy."

"visas mano gyvenimas vedė mane pas tave, mielas berniuk, ir aš kitaip neturėčiau."

"i love you too, darlin'."

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Autumn (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @thisgameissonintendo

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Pure fluff. Friends to more-than-friends. Morpheus has made you a dream based on one of your favourite things and you explore it together.

Warnings: Physical intimacy, kissing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Happy First Day of Autumn Sandfam! Hope you enjoy this one, would love to hear what you think, and also to know which season is your favourite and why. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

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"Can I open my eyes yet?" You stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, feeling very much like a person awaiting a surprise on their birthday.

"So impatient," Morpheus replies with a teasing lilt to his liquid velvet voice that sets your laughter free.

"Is that a yes?"

"I am simply adding some final touches."

Ever the perfectionist, you think with a grin.

You inhale deeply, making use of one of the only other senses you could use in this situation. The air is crisp, fresh, with an earthy undertone; you are definitely outside, but where, you have no other clues to help guess.

Morpheus had certainly not given anything away when he had found you sketching in the Dreaming's orchard, charcoal in one hand, half-eaten apple in the other. He had simply told you there was something he wanted to show you.

Curiosity mounting, you had eagerly taken your friend's outstretched hand and promised to not look until he gave the word.

Finally, there is movement in the air beside you. Morpheus' fingers ghost your upper arm to signify his proximity.

"You may open your eyes now," he speaks quietly yet authoritatively by your ear.

You look, blinking to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the swaying branches of numerous trees, before taking the view in properly.

You notice the colours first, their vivacity and variety:

Umber, sienna, scarlet, amber, saffron. All under a pale blue, wispy cloud sky.

Leaves are falling thick and fast. They swirl and undulate in the soft breeze, coming to rest on an already leaf-smothered ground.

Little collections of chestnut coloured mushrooms are dotted next to the tree line. Droplets of dew have gathered on their caps, lending a gorgeous sheen to their already lovely appearance.

Everything you saw was a showcase of autumn.

"You remembered," you say breathlessly, referring to a conversation that had taken place a few weeks ago where you had professed your love for the season and all it entailed.

You look to Morpheus with a sunbeam smile, asking for permission to explore. He nods, extending his arm, communicating that it was all yours.

Your steps into the leafy clearing are gleeful and bouncy, creating satisfying rustling and crunching noises as you go towards the well-established trees. Melodic birdsong echoes from the canopy above you. Swathes of moss begin where the layers of leaves end. You carefully hop onto it and enjoy the way your shoes sink a little into the plush, verdant carpet.

Fingertips trail over the greyish, dappled trunk of a sycamore tree before you move to the tactile, deeply ridged bark of an ash.

You slip your arms around the second tree, close your eyes and give it a big hug.

Everything feels right in this moment.

You open your eyes to see Morpheus watching you from several paces away. There is a twinkle in his deep blue eyes; clearly he finds your display amusing.

The rich autumn colours contrast beautifully against his monochrome attire. None of the falling leaves come close to his person, reminding you that even now, even when he looks to be still, there are a multitude of responsibilities ticking away inside his mind, including the control of the objects within this tranquil dreamscape.

A dreamscape that he wanted to share with you.

It is times like these that you are confronted by the truth of just how special your friendship with Morpheus is. There are fleeting moments where you wish it could be more but for now you are simply an Endless and a mortal who find solace in each other's company.

Pushing yourself away from the tree, you come back into the clearing and find a spot among the leaves to sit. Morpheus joins you after you pat the ground and call his name.

No words are exchanged for a while. You simply pick through the surrounding leaves to find the most vibrant example. A scarlet one, fallen from an aspen is what you settle on. You tuck it in your coat pocket and meet Morpheus' wistful gaze.

"Thank you, I really needed this."

He nods formally. "When you said that you found yourself missing the autumn splendours of the Waking World, I decided to make a version for you to visit at your leisure."

You are taken aback. "You made all this for me?"

"Yes," his tone starts off measured as ever but gives way to something you have never heard before. "Does it have your approval?"

The sudden insecurity is impossibly endearing. You reach sideways to touch the back of his hand.

"Approval? Morpheus, it's - well, somewhere I could only dream of."

He bows his head. "It pleases me to hear that."

"I hope it didn't take up too much of your time to make it all, I know how stretched you can get."

"I cannot deny, it has occupied me a little more than the construction of other recent dreams, however, I believe it necessary to put time and effort into making gifts for those whose pleasure and happiness you find important. You deserve to feel those things, Y/N, and being able to contribute to them in some way brings me pleasure of my own."

You don't know if it the fiery colours around you heightening your reactions but hearing Morpheus talk about pleasure is doing something to you.

It is fuel to the embers that had been smouldering within your body for a couple of months now.

It makes you feel delirious. You find your attention languidly drifting between his eyes and his lips.

Blue to pink, pink to blue.

Then he mirrors your action and it all becomes too much.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you admit, the words rushing out without proper consideration.

"Very well," he answers instantly, not allowing you even a fraction of a second to regret your sudden divulgence.

Doubling down on this approach, he turns his body to face yours and gently cups your face in his long-fingered hands.

He's staring at you so intently, his thumbs run back and forth over your cheekbones, the unwavering attention and sensation causing you to shiver and sigh.

He moves closer and his pupils blow out from anticipation.

Morpheus' perfect lips are now mere centimetres from yours. Fluttery nerves fill your insides. You are so overwhelmed that this is actually happening.

You close the gap, testing the waters with a kiss that is soft and tentative. Morpheus is instantly hooked, initiating a second one that allows you to discover just how skilled he is.

Your hands move up to tangle in Morpheus' unruly hair. At present, you cannot remember how long have you been longing to do this but you are not disappointed by how silken it feels under your palms.

The kiss between you becomes intense, his tongue joining the dance with a bone melting deftness, and soon you want to feel more of his body against yours.

You go to lay back on the bed of leaves.

He pulls away, concern etched in his brows, forehead and eyes that questions if he has gone too quickly.

You smile softly to assure him that all is well.

"Come here." You draw him backwards with you, allowing him to straddle you. During the manoeuvre, his coat falls open enough for you to see the galaxies swirling within the lining.

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you once more, starting at your lips and moving to your neck when he senses that you need to breathe.

The touches of his mouth, the feeling of his body covering yours protectively, the weight of his hips aligned with your own; it has you moaning appreciatively.

He withdraws but remains close, astute eyes drinking in every detail and emotion on your smiling face, the halo-like glow shimmering on your hair.

"So beautiful," Morpheus murmurs reverently.

"Your dreams always are," you say, looking past him at the translucent clouds hovering in the sky above you.

His deep voice rumbles deliciously as he speaks his reply, a false admonishment, "You know that's not what I meant."

He playfully nudges his nose against yours. "This dream pales in comparison to you."

You blush as brightly as the leaf that you had stashed within your pocket. Morpheus traces his fingers over the blossoming redness, marvelling in how the extra heat feels under his touch and how his words were the ones that put it there.

"Kiss me, please," you ask in a whisper.

He arranges his coat to cocoon you against the seasonal chill and then obliges you with a deep and passionate kiss that spreads internal warmth right out to the tips of your fingers and toes.

If your winter continues like this, with Morpheus to hold and bond with, it is shaping up to be infinitely more delightful and cosy than any that have come before.

[oneprotagonistshort]

also a Dirk Gently WIP whenever just for kicks. from the ongoing Forces Unseen sequel

-

“Holy shit,” Todd said, hearing Dirk come in through the door he’d left propped open. “Did you know we can see the Washington Monument from here?”

Dirk joined him at the window and wrapped an arm around his middle from behind. He was suddenly feeling a bit clingy, like he was going to need to front load all the cuddles he could get, which was abjectly ridiculous. Todd had never shied away from that, if anything it was Dirk who’d been jumpy lately about tender little moments like this. Still, Dirk couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d be wanting more of this later but might not be able to get it. He hooked his chin over Todd’s shoulder and squinted out the window, not sure what Todd was referring to. 

“The bloke on the penny’s house?” he asked, not seeing it. “I don’t think he lives in DC anymore, Todd.”

“What?” Todd asked, pulling back a little to look at him before pointing at a large lit-up obelisk surrounded by illuminated American flags. “No, that. I’ve only ever seen it in movies, National Treasure didn’t prepare me for the real thing.”

“Ohhh,” Dirk said, comprehension dawning as he held Todd close to his front. “You mean the giant pencil statue.”

“The giant—Dirk, that’s the Washington Monument. As in George Washington? It doesn’t even look like a pencil.”

“Doesn’t look much like George Washington either,” Dirk mused, and whatever retort Todd had been about to fire back was interrupted by the sharp trill of Dirk’s phone. 

[sadgirlindiemusic]

What I wouldn't give for Jade to get a full-season character development arc the way Kit did in season 1. Because out of the whole party Jade went through the most life-altering events during the quest. She had to kill her father figure, she found out the personal history she'd been told was invented to make her hate and fear her family, she found long-lost relatives but was almost immediately separated from them... and almost no narrative space was used to let her process any of this. Part of it is that Jade is SO good at bottling up emotions and compartmentalizing that she was too focused (forcing herself to be too focused) on the quest and on Kit to deal with her personal trauma. But I want her to get the character development she deserves and to do that I think the story needs to delve into how she moves forward knowing what she knows now, and having done what she's done.

Also, Jade has been Kit's safe place to fall apart for most of their lives - when her dad disappeared, when she was forced to give up her dreams, her queerness, and her personhood for a political marriage and a kingdom she didn't want, when Airc was taken. And she needed that from Jade, and she probably wouldn't have survived if she hadn't had it. But I want my fave disaster princess to use that newfound inner strength and emotional intelligence to support Jade now, because I feel like she's gonna need it.

[whisperprime]

Edit: Somehow a ton of paragraphs got moved around before posting this. Not sure how that happened, but they should all now be fixed now.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Interlude | Part 11 | Part 12

It rains near nonstop over the following day, but it puts little damper on Hob's good mood.

For the first time in centuries, he knows he will see Dream again. He doesn't have a precise date, but he will see him again.

And it won't be life or death or some other traumatic reason.

He hopes.

The thought buoys up his good mood and keeps it there through the morning and well into the afternoon.

Lucas, the head of his team of contractors, has been eyeing him all day. Hob is a little surprised it takes the man as long as it does to finally comment on it. "You’re in a good mood today. Meet someone new last night?"

Hob took a moment to finish sanding the area of the bar he had been working. They had just recently installed it and he'd wanted to try and knock out the staining and finish before the end of the week. Spot to his liking, he turned his attention to his nosey, friendly acquaintance. "No, no one new."

Lucas raises an eyebrow. His look is far too knowing. "Ah, one of those." He pats Hob on the shoulder, telegraphing the intent before following through when Hob doesn't move away, as he passes to get some more paint. "Old flames can be alluring, but you're just as likely to get burnt the second time."

Hob makes a noncommittal noise, both at the touch and the comment. From what he's observed, Lucas is always tactile with those around him that will let him get away with it. He thinks it his way of showing that he's come to see Hob as one of the boys.

He also thinks Lucas views him as a feral cat in need of getting used to human touch. Hob blames that on the fact that the first time the blond man had done it, the immortal had flinched so hard he'd spilled his drink. It had been the first time Hob had been touched by someone other than Dream since he'd been rescued.

Lucas had been more mortified than Hob had been, the latter brushing off the apologies. He hadn't explained why he'd flinched, but he had assured Lucas that it was fine to touch him, just warn him first. None of the rest of his crew were quite so tactile, but word had still spread amongst the group.

Since then, there was always a pause for permission before any contact.

Hob still felt the twinge of fear that Mammon had stolen the ease and love he'd had with touch, even as he reminded himself that all wounds took time to heal from.

Amy snorts from where she was tackling another wall. She's one of two women that made up Lucas' six-person crew. "You only say that because you have terrible taste in partners."

Mary, the second woman, laughs from near by Amy. "All of them might as well be incubi, for all Lucas can't stay away from them."

Lucas points a paint brush at them. "You're both just jealous I have an eye for excellent looking men."

The women made a few jeers at his exspense. Lucas might have an eye for great looking men, but he was not great at distinguishing keepers from one's that really should have remained one night stands.

Hob joins in their merriment. "It's not nearly that exciting. Just ran into an old acquaintance I thought I might not see again. Said they'd come by sometime."

Mary gives him a sympathetic hum. "Oh, but we know that look, luv. You definitely want them to be more than that."

Hob won't deny it, but he also doesn't want to prod this topic too much. His hopes are far too close to being up. "Cheeky, the lot of you. Am I paying you to build my pub or tease me?"

"Both!" Six voices ring out together. Hob contemplates flicking paint at them but doesn't care to start a paint fight when he still needs to get this bar table taken care of.

He finishes it within the next few days, which is just as well. In the weeks leading up to the start of the new term, Hob is forced to switch his focus from working on the New Inn with the builders to preparing for returning to the classroom.

Seeing the office that will soon be his home away from home feels like some integral part of himself sliding back into place. He wasn't always a teacher in the time between the Other Dream's death and when he met the Herald, but it was a preferred profession.

Add all this to teaching at a new school for the first time and Hob's feeling really good about his near future.

The afternoon of the day before the start of classes, Hob retreats out to a bench not far from the Inn. The contractors hadn't been in that day, so Hob had been taking it as an excuse to take some down time before everything went straight into the chaos that was the start of any semester.

The weather outside is a nice 21°C and Hob just takes a moment to close his eyes and bask in the sunlight. He has had ample opportunities over the summer to get some sun, and even taken many of them, but it still hasn't gotten old.

Hob's lounging spot is close enough to the park to hear the sounds of other people also taking advantage of the good weather, but far enough away so as not to be bothered by them. He is getting better with crowds, but he still finds them to be overwhelming after a while. There are too many people to keep track of and he has difficulty truly relaxing.

He absolutely could not allow himself to close his eyes and let his guard down in one. This is the other reason he had chosen this spot. Close enough to hear civilization, but far enough away that the sounds of a crowd would not drown out the noise of someone approaching while he has his eyes closed, face turned up to the sun.

It's been a fairly good system, so far.

Which is why he nearly jumps out of his own skin when he hears someone take a seat beside him.

Hob tenses. The average human shouldn't have been able to sneak up on him, so this is either the not so average human or something not human at all.

He's aware the being he's waiting for is perfectly capable of sneaking up on him, and has already done so once in this new timeline, but one doesn't spend 96 years not knowing when a demon is going to come for them without becoming more than a little hyper vigilant.

Hob slowly cracks an eye open and tilts his head to the side to get a look at his guest.

And all at once feels the tension drain out of him as he sees that it is, indeed, Dream.

"You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days, dove," he says as he relaxes back down onto the bench.

Dream nods in acknowledgement of the critique. He does not give any promises that it will not happen again.

Git.

Hob huffs as he sits up properly. “Good timing, as usual, though. If you showed up this time tomorrow, I’d be neck deep in afternoon classes.”

The Dream Lord raises an eyebrow at that. His attention focuses fully in that way that Hob has come to know that Hob has said something he finds of curious. “You are returning to school.”

“Yes, but not as a student.” The immortal grins and does a partial bow, similar to how he’d done when he’d introduced himself as a knight in 1589, but while still sitting. “Professor Gadsen, at your service.”

Something warms behind Dream’s eyes in much the same way they had when Hob had told him he’d started in the printing profession. “You’ve become a teacher.”

Hob straightens back up, his hand going to his ear in slight embarrassment. He’s forgotten how nice it felt to have his old friend look at him like that. “I did some off and on work as a professor in the other timeline. Must have taught at a dozen different schools. Didn’t always do it, but it’s probably my favorite profession, with publishing after that.”

Dream tilts his head to the side at the reminder that Hob has lived this whole other life. “What subject?”

Hob doesn’t know if he means what he’s taught in the past or if he means this time around. Decides to stick with the present, for now. “History 101, this time. Got my first two classes tomorrow.”

Dream nods. He falls silent, afterword, seriousness settling back on him like a cloak.

Hob, knowing this was unlikely to be a simple pleasure trip, waits to see what this is about.

He’s not kept waiting long. 

“I have some questions about the memory.”

Ah. Of course.

Hob sighs. “I think it would be best to move this conversation indoors.” He stands up and points over his shoulder. “I know a place we can chat uninterrupted, if you’re okay with a change in scenery.”

The Endless nods his consent, before rising to his feet as well. He follows as Hob starts heading back home. “Where are we going?”

The immortal throws a smile over his shoulder and points to the building in question. “Just a little something I’ve been working on for the last five months. She’s not done yet, but she’s getting there.” He near bounds up to the door as they near it. Opens the door and holds it open for Dream to enter for. “May I present: The New Inn.”

Dream pauses in the doorway, taking in the room before him. Most of the structure is finished, along with the bar and back room. He hasn’t gotten all of the appliances for the kitchen just yet, nor has he brought in even a fraction of the table and chairs, but there is a fridge and stove back there, along with a single table and chair out on the main floor that Hob, Lucas, and his crew take breaks out.

It’s not quite how he’d hoped to first introduce it, but he’ll take his victories where he can.

When Dream finally enters, allowing Hob to follow, he slowly works his way around the bar and into the main sitting area. A single, pale hand reaches out and runs along the lacquered surface of the bar table. “The New Inn is a pub?”

Hob puts his hands into his pocket to keep them from giving away his nervousness. Is glad he did when his old friend turns to face him fully, something intense laying behind those blue eyes staring back at him inquisitively.

“Yeah.” Hob answers simply. “I built her the first time, too.”

He watches as the implications of the statement lands. Blue eyes briefly darken, before that heat is banked. 

Hob clears his throat. Gestures to one of the seats, as he offers, “Would you like some tea? I think I have a brew you’d like in stock.”

He knows full well that Dream will like it. It had taken a few tries, but he and the Other Dream had found one he’d like. It hadn’t done anything for him, truly, the way tea drank in a dream would, but he’d enjoyed the taste of it. Hob had made sure to keep some on hand in the decades that followed, even if he couldn’t bear to drink any of it, just so he wouldn’t forget.

Dream nods as he takes the seat and Hob quickly escapes back into the back.

The excuse of making tea gives him the chance to settle himself. Knows that this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Curses the fates, again, for the memory having somehow followed him. 

Maybe dawdles a bit more than he should, because he really doesn’t want to talk about this. Hob briefly daydreams about hiding up in his flat upstairs, until he belatedly remembers that the being in the other room can hear daydreams and that really is going to give off the wrong impression.

Sure enough, when he returns to the sitting area, Dream looks like he’s mere minutes away from getting up and hunting him down. Hob chuckles softly at the look, ignoring the glare he gets in response for his amusement. “Sorry, dove. I wasn’t really going to do it.”

Dream’s glare turns to something more considering, as it sinks in that Hob was saying he wasn’t planning on following through with his daydream. He clearly wants to interrogate the immortal human over what all he knows. 

Hob isn’t about to hide that from him, but he’s kind of enjoying being the mysterious one for a change and he’s not about to give up all his secrets unless asked for them.

It seems that line of questioning is for another day, because what Dream asks is: “What originally happened in 1916?”

The wave of anger, both old and new, is familiar, and Hob doesn’t try to tame of his face as it twists into a snarl. “Some half-assed magician thought he could summon Death. Planned to try and get her to bring back his son.” He wrapped his hands around his mug in a way that suggested he wished it was something else. Blue eyes ticked down to them, cataloging the response. “Wasn’t Death he got though.”

The room around them dropped several degrees, anger and affront in the downwards twist of Dream’s lips. “Did he not understand the damage he would have done to his world?”

Hob took a sip of his tea - the same flavor as Dream’s - and shrugged. “He wasn’t affected, so what did he care?” He placed the mug back down on the table. “Bastard died in 1926. To my understanding, it was his son that held your counterpart captive for the most of the time he was down there.”

He thinks of Alex Burgess, who fled Fawney Rig to run off with the man he loved. Wonders what was so different this time that he found the courage to run away rather than lock himself in a prison of his own making. Ponders if it was possibly because Paul had been else where, and as such, was a stronger lure away.

It was a thought.

Dream seems to finally remember that tea was placed in front of him. He takes a sip as he ponders this new information. Pauses to stare down at the liquid like he’s never seen tea before and Hob knows he’s scored a win with the flavor. The tea gets an almost mournful look as Dream drags his attention away from it. “Who was it that tried to summon my sister?”

Hob contemplates the pros and cons of sic’ing Dream of the Endless on Roderick Burgess. Finds himself asking, instead, “Does it matter? They didn’t succeed.”

Dream breathes out slowly, lips a thin line of unhappiness. “Perhaps you have a point. They would be long dead by now anyway.”

Hob holds his tongue and lets the misunderstanding go. He does not correct him to protect Burgess from Dream, but rather because it feels too much like he would be turning his friend into a weapon if he told the truth.

He has already done that once before. He never plans to do it again.

No. He will deal with Roderick Burgess himself when the time comes.

The immortal human finishes his tea in a single gulp, savoring the sweet peppermint taste. It isn’t one of his favorites, personally, but he can still enjoy it. Especially with how long it’s been since he’s last had any. “Mm. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get some more tea.” He tips the empty cup in Dream’s direction. “Do you want anything else while I’m back there?”

Dream shakes his head, an air of distraction to the movement.

Hob does not try to stall a second time. Really just wanted some more tea. When he returns to the sitting area, he’s almost surprised to see the Dream Lord is still there.

And frowning at him. “What?” He hadn’t even daydreamed about escaping this time!

“You are still limping.”

“Oh, yes.” The immoral human returns back to his seat. “I don’t have the networks I had the first time around, so I have to wait until I can find a new doctor who’s willing to fix it but not ask any questions.” He would have been more than happy to look someone up from the first time around, but it’s been 273 years since he lived this year. He thinks he deserves to be forgiven for not remembering anyone’s names except the important ones.

Dream studies him. Carefully, he says, “I could fix it for you.”

Hob stares at him. “What?”

Dream gives him a look that states that he heard right the first time and he’s not going to get a repeat of it.

Hob coughs and shifts in his seat. The thought of those pale hands touching his ankle doing some odds things to his higher brain functions. “Sorry, dove. I just didn’t think this would be something you’d do.”

He gets a strange look in response, although he’s not sure over what. “I have broken things far stronger than human bones before.”

Oh, Hob has little doubt about that. Still, it’s not something he was expecting to have to deal with tonight, and finds himself at war between finally dealing with the issue and wanting more time to prepare for it.

He remembers that these aren’t things you’re ever prepared for. There isn’t really a reason to put it off. If set right, the bone will be healed by morning. He'll have to come up with a cover story for the sudden disappearance of his limp though.

Taking a deep breathe, he nods. “Let me run up stairs to grab something to bite on real quick. Won’t take more than a few minutes.” 

He’s halfway out of the chair, when Dream rises to his feet instead. “There is no need.” He holds out his hand, palm up and facing Hob, who suddenly finds himself flashing back to a certain encounter in 1789.

Instinctively, Hob goes completely still. “What are you doing?”

“I wish to sedate you.” Dream nods to the chair he’d just been getting out of. “You will want to sit back down first. I will wake you when it is over.”

Hob relaxes a fraction and his face splits into a smile at the consideration. “It's a kind offer, but I've dealt with worse.” 

Dream has the same stubbornness to him as when Hob tried to will off sleep right after his rescue. “If you will not do it for your peace of mind, then do it for mine. I will inevitably hurt you, Hob Gadling. I do not wish for this to be one of those times.”

“Ah, dove. How can I say no to that?” Hob feels himself folding like a wet tissue paper. He’s sitting before he even makes the decision to do so. “Yes. Yes, you can send me off to your kingdom for a bit.”

That pale hand starts to rise again just as a thought crosses Hob’s mind. He holds up his hands to block his eyes, as if that would actually protect them. “Wait!”

Dream pauses, and there’s a flash of irritation as his patience appears to be wearing thin at the interruptions. He near snaps, “What?”

The idea is mad and he’s likely pushing it. But Hob never got anywhere without being willing to take risks. And this is a risk he’s always loathed never taking. “Will you join me?” At the look of confusion, he elaborates, “In the dream.”

One of those elegant dark eyebrows goes up. “Why?”

Hob’s fingers go to his ear, nervousness winning out. “I want to thank you for this. For the rescue, too.” He drops his hand and squares his shoulders. “Let me treat you to a meal, in the Dreaming.”

Dream considers him, a knowing look in his eyes. “You do not owe me anything, Hob Gadling.”

He knows, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to spend more time with him. To take every chance he can get while he still can. “Maybe, but I still want to.”

A long silence. He’s just starting to fear he’s pushed too far, when, “Very well. I will join you for this meal.”

Hob feels his heart soar. He near leaps to his feet. “Well, if this is going to take a while, perhaps we should do this upstairs? We’ll be less likely to be interrupted if I sleep on my couch then down here.”

Dream hums in response to this. Hob gets the impression he’s said something of interest, but he’s not sure why living in the Inn would catch his interest. “You do not need to stop at the couch.” The immortal human pauses as he’s opening a back door that leads to the stairs to his flat. There’s that mischievous grin again that tells Hob he’s about to get another bombshell. “We can do this just fine in your bed.”

Hob feels his jaw drop. “Are you teasing me?”

The look he receives in return is too innocent looking to be for real. “Am I?”

Oh, one of these days, Hob is going to have his sweet, sweet revenge on this insufferable creature. He really will.

In the meantime, he’s just going to bemoan the fact that he’s totally not cleaned his bedroom recently and he had clearly not thought this through as well as he thought he had.

Part 13

[fordanoia]

Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: -  || Stan comes to Gravity Falls, but when Ford doesn’t show up he has to go looking for him. Amidst, a strange house and a mysterious presence he tries to figure out what exactly is going on and where Ford disappeared to.

Chapter: Faulty Tech

______(~3.3k words)______

[plus-size-reader]

Pumpkin Spice

Fics of Fall 2022

Eddie Munson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2573 words

Warnings: Fluffy fall overload (i.e I shoved a lot of fall tropes in this one for my own enjoyment) 

Summary: Dragging Eddie out of bed with a single task in mind...Tracking down the perfect pumpkin spice latte.

—————————————————————————————————

“Why are you still in bed?”

Eddie didn’t even have a moment to think, or process what was happening, before coming face-to-face with you.

On any normal day, that wouldn’t have been a big deal as you had been known to just let yourself into his trailer whenever you felt like it but it wasn’t exactly as if today was a normal day.

At least, in the sense that it wasn’t even day yet.

Not in Eddie’s mind anyway.

“Why are you here?” the male countered, rolling away from you with a huff, his hair hiding away the parts of his face that his pillow wasn’t already shielding.

It was a loaded question.

Technically, you were in the trailer because that was where his bedroom was, and you were in his bedroom because that was where he was.

If he wanted to get more literal and ask why you were currently knelt by his bed, six inches from his face, the answer was simple.

It was officially Fall.

…and Fall meant that, more than any other time in the year, you were alive.

“Wayne let me in” you shrugged, still not understanding what your best friend's problem was.

In all the time that you’d known one another, this was hardly the first time you’d done something like this and you both knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Yeah, I figured that out”

The annoyance he was feeling was obvious in the rasp of Eddie’s voice, still muffled by the pillow he was holding to his face but you didn’t budge in the least upon hearing it.

You were on a mission, after all.

“So, why are you still in bed?” your tone now matching his as the desire to start the events of the season took hold.

You needed to go.

Now.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what time is it?”

“6:30”

“And, why would I be up at 6:30 on a Saturday?”

You didn’t answer for a moment, settling down against the mattress, your head resting on both of your forearms as you tried to think of something that wouldn’t result in Eddie’s relentless teasing.

Not that it mattered. You’d never been successful in that before.

“I want coffee” you eventually settled, sitting down only fully only when Eddie shifted, turning toward you with a near incredulous look on his face before dropping his head into his pillow again.

Eddie actually couldn’t believe you.

That’s what this was about?

“There’s a pot in the kitchen” he reminded, still able to smell the faint odor of the dark roast Wayne had made before going to work.

There was definitely some left that you could have gotten on your way in here.

“I can’t drink that” you scoffed, earning what sounded like a cross between a scoff and a laugh from Eddie because he should have seen that coming.

He should have seen this whole thing coming.

“And why not? Worried it’s poison?” he grumbled, finally sitting up to look at you, his messy curls settling in front of his face with as much attitude as he was currently giving you.

You smiled, at the sheer fact that he’d decided to start getting up before answering.

“No. I, my dear Eddie, am on a mission to find the best-tasting pumpkin spice latte and I wanted to see if you’d join me?” you grinned, brushing some hair from his face gingerly.

He rolled his eyes at you, of course, and at the sheer absurdity of your display, but didn’t refuse.

Eddie had never told you no, and by this point in your lives, he wasn’t even sure he could form the word.

“You’re sure this can’t wait? I’m comfy” he whined, throwing himself back down against his bedding, landing on his back with a soft thud.

Sometimes, the promise of his warm blankets, smelling vaguely of cigarettes and cuddles could be enough to get you to stop doing whatever thing you’d set your mind to.

Though, that wasn’t going to work today.

You had already made your mind up and if you didn’t have a delicious, overrated seasonal drink in your hand in the next hour, you were going to make it everyone else’s problem.

“No, now put on your pants” you commanded, scoping up the closest pair, that had been carelessly thrown atop another pile of clothes on the floor and lobbing them in his direction.

You wanted to be there when they opened so that you didn’t have to deal with all the people that would surely rush to do the same thing you had.

For both your sake.

“Fine, but you owe me” he decided, knowing full well that was nothing more than an empty threat.

He would never ever admit it to anyone, but you knew that Eddie loved this stuff almost more than you did.

Even if he’d rather sleep in.

“I’m already taking your notes in Chemistry and Physics, so what’s one more thing?” you teased back, ignoring the sound of his shuffling behind you as you busied yourself in his closet.

For the most part, Eddie’s closet consisted of worn band tees and assorted nerd merch but today, you had a specific article of clothing in mind.

Something you knew he owned only because you were nosy.

“What are you doing?” he asked, once again getting ignored until you finally found what you were searching for, tossed into the back corner, and rolled up in a ball.

You expected as much.

“Looking for this” you explained, holding up the slightly wrinkled knit pullover Wayne had bought him quite a few holidays back.

It was black originally because everything Eddie ever wore was black, but it had since faded to a washed-out, deep gray that you knew would look good on him.

If you could convince him to put it on.

“That thing makes me look like a loser” he scoffed, not even bothering to take it from you because if he did, that would mean he’d have to put it on.

…and that wasn’t happening.

“So does everything else you wear,” you shot back, once again forcing the waded-up ball into his bare chest, and not letting go until he had no choice but to take it.

“Besides, it’s cold and I don’t want to listen to you whining” you added, a small smirk on your face as you watched the man put on the offensive article in complete defeat.

Mostly because he knew you had a point, and would rather bite his tongue off than have to tell you that.

“Very handsome” you grinned, ducking away from a less than subtle middle finger before heading for the door.

By this time, the sun was starting to come up and that meant that it was time to go.

“I hate you” he called, slipping on his boots, and shaking his head at the sound of the keys to his '71 Chevy van rattling by the door in response.

When he became a ‘go-get-coffee-in-a-sweater’ kind of guy, Eddie had no idea, but as he followed you out with a single goal in mind, it didn’t even really matter.

Not as long as you were happy.

~

By the time you made it to the coffee shop, you expected it to be busy but were pleasantly surprised by a near-empty lot.

Perfect.

“Come on, come on” you urged, watching as Eddie intentionally took his sweet time parking and taking the key out of the ignition, knowing full well that you were about to lose it.

This had always been your favorite time of year and while he understood that, he definitely wasn’t above tormenting you when the opportunity presented itself.

Though, all things considered, it didn’t last very long and you were headed toward the quaint little building before you knew it.

You had been here a few times in the past but never had it appealed to you more than it did at this moment.

It was everything you could have wanted.

The air was heavy with the scent of spice and sugar, and the warmth that greeted you when you opened the door was a welcome contrast to the biting cold outside.

“I still can’t believe you woke me up for this” you heard the man at your back grumble, but you chose to ignore him, fully immersed in the feeling surrounding you.

Something you were sure would wear him down eventually.

“Do you want one?” you asked, watching as Eddie’s eyes glided over the menu behind the counter, trying to figure out what any of these things were and what the hype was.

Coffee he got, though he had always preferred a different kind of stimulant, but the fruity, sugary stuff you’d gotten into from this place could hardly be considered coffee.

Most of the time it was closer to a milkshake.

“No, I think I’ll keep my teeth, thank you” he teased, settling into one of the nooks in the corner and watching your head over to the waiting barista, who was far too perky for this early in the morning.

You were so lucky you were cute.

The list of people he’d be willing to do this for was a short one for sure, though when he stopped to think about it, it wasn’t much of a list at all.

You were the only one.

The only person in the world who could have hoped to drag Edward Munson out of bed for anything was you, and deep down, he knew that you knew it too.

All things considered, he should have been glad you used your powers for small things like this instead of dedicating it to evil.

“Miss me?” you grinned, holding your cup to your chest, almost as if you were worried someone would steal it from you.

Which, given what you’d done to get here so early, seemed fair to him.

“Yeah, I didn’t know what to do with myself” Eddie cooed, clutching his chest similarly to how a heartbroken damsel may have in those old movies he adored so much.

Not that you paid that much mind.

You had grown far too used to the dramatic antics of your best friend and chose to focus your attention on the festive drink.

It would no doubt only be the first of many before the season was up but the first one was always the most special.

That was part of why you wanted Eddie to be here with you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier” you hummed, taking a deep breath of your coffee, and letting the spice envelop every part of you.

You could have sat in this moment forever, but when you opened your eyes to survey the grumpy metalhead you’d brought with you, he hardly looked to be enjoying himself.

If anything, Eddie wasn’t impressed.

“This is what you dragged me out here for?” he scoffed, keeping that gentle softness about him even as he tormented you.

The incredulous glare once again returned to his gaze as he looked into the cup you were holding, even less thrilled than he’d previously expected.

It was coffee, sure, but not in the way that he’d always known it. In sharp contrast to his Uncle’s stark black coffee, always brewed into a company thermos, was a milky brown fluid topped with whipped cream.

Just as he’d suspected.

It was a breakfast milkshake that you had somehow convinced yourself that it was okay to drink before your day even started.

“Yeah, and it’s delicious”

You didn’t even humor his attitude, because as much as you loved Eddie, his idea of a balanced breakfast was a cigarette, a poptart and whatever was left in his beer cans from last night.

He was hardly the all-knowing authority of what was good.

“If you say so” he shrugged, taking a small sip and knocking his booted feet against your own under the table.

He made a small face at the taste before letting you get back to enjoying your sugar in a cup.

The first sip you managed to take was velvety and hot, burning from your tongue to your throat in the best way.

It was all you could have wanted on a cool morning like this one, even if it was only going to last until the last drop was drained from the paper cup.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you for a while, with you sipping at your cup as you looked out the large window in front of you, and Eddie fidgeting as he often did.

If you listened close, you could hear him humming “Lady Evil” by Black Sabbath under his breath which only added to the peace you were feeling.

It was nice.

Though, you should have known that it wouldn’t last long, given your chosen company.

“Hey”

You turned toward his voice without hesitation, the view out the window long forgotten but you didn’t even have time to process anything before you were greeted by Eddie’s hand in your face.

With the sole goal of dabbing as much whipped cream onto your nose as he could manage at one time.

“You’re such a child” you groaned, immediately going to wipe it away on the back of your hand, shooting daggers into your best friend.

Who, in the time it had taken you to realize what he’d done, was nearly crying with laughter in his chair.

“Hey, I wore this stupid thing. The least you can do is make me laugh” he shrugged, once again taking your cup and sipping at the warm liquid he supposedly couldn’t stand.

“What happened to wanting to keep your teeth?” you scoffed, swiping a bit of whipped cream from the top for yourself and popping it into your mouth after momentarily faking him out for revenge.

Eddie had always been like this.

He would go on and on about not wanting and liking things, but as soon as you had them, suddenly he was a fan.

Not that you really minded.

You knew he was enjoying your little coffee date just as much as you were.

“If you tell Henderson about this, I’ll kill you in your sleep” he replied, all shame going out the window as he drank from the cup cavalierly, drumming his free hand on the table.

He had an image to uphold, those kids worshiping him like a God, but it was a delicate balance. If they ever found out about this, he knew they wouldn’t hesitate to hold it over his head indefinitely.

There was no way he’d ever live it down.

“Your secret’s safe with me” you grinned, not at all surprised at how this morning had gone down.

If you were being honest, you may or may not have ordered a larger size just to share.

Eddie nodded casually in thanks before finishing off what was left of the cup. He didn’t have a lot to do today, aside from a Corroded Coffin practice after Gareth got done with his shift at the gas station.

Which, normally, would have meant getting high and watching Knight Rider all day.

…but not today.

Today, Eddie was going to spend all day with you doing whatever it was you decided you wanted because it was the first day of Fall, and you deserved it.

If for nothing else than putting up with him all the time.

[dewitty1]

Englishman Extraordinaire

BlueSundayCake  @bluesundaycake

Chapters: 13/13 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, Parvati Patil, Padma Patil, Lavender Brown, Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Neville Longbottom, Astoria Greengrass, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley Additional Tags: Lights Camera Drarry 2022, inspired by Falling Inn Love, Slow Romance, Trans Male Character, Trans Draco Malfoy, Queer Families, Alternate Universe - Canada, Handyman Harry Potter, Strangers to Lovers, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Past Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Canadian Harry Potter, Transphobia, but only briefly, Not from main pairing, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Explicit Sexual Content, Vaginal Sex, Riding, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Minor Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil, Not Astoria Greengrass Friendly, Not Ginny Weasley Friendly, No actual character bashing, Panic Attacks, Fire, Pet Names, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Lights Camera Drarry

Summary:

When Draco's life goes to shit, he gets scammed. Maybe it's for the best. Who doesn't love new beginnings?

(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭*⁺˚. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆

Excerpt:

Tea was served and a plate of tea biscuits appeared in front of Draco. It took only a sip for Draco to realise he knew this brew from somewhere else.

“Is this Mr Snape’s homemade tea?” he asked, surprised. 

Harry’s mouth did a weird thing, an expression between grimace and sheepish smile. “Actually, yeah.” He took a sip and hummed appreciatively. “We don’t really hate each other. Other people hope we do, because of my parents’ accident. They were friends, t’sais. He and my mom were best friends and it was their thing. Making tea flavours like this.” 

“Oh.” He knew things like this were hardly ever simple, but it still surprised him. Because if Harry hadn’t kept silent because of the content of Draco’s message all those days ago… what had happened? “I thought there was animosity between the two of you.”

Harry took another sip, clearly considering his response. “I think he feels very guilty. I think it makes him feel better when he thinks I hate him.” 

“Bloody hell,” Draco sighed. “Yeah, he seems the type.”

“I know…” Harry trailed off and chewed his lip before continuing. “I know you’re talking about that day I left you on read for some time. It wasn’t because of Severus.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Draco hurried to say, reaching out despite himself and placing a hand on Harry’s arm. “It isn’t any of my business.” 

Then Harry met his eyes, and there was an ocean of sadness in all the green there. “Thanks, Draco. But I want to tell you. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Not after everything you told me about yourself.” 

Draco nodded silently and squeezed his hand on Harry’s arm in encouragement. 

“It was… It was the anniversary of my partner’s death.” Harry swallowed rapidly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and took a sip of tea. “He died three years ago. We’d been together five years. He was my first love.” He huffed and shook his head, but there was no bitterness there. “Turns out he was very sick and no one knew. One day he was fine, and the next he had barely any time left.”

Draco took a shuddering breath and a fortifying gulp of tea. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Thanks. It’s hard on those days, and his birthday. I haven’t…” Harry’s cheeks took a delightful shade of dark pink. “Not since Cedric.” 

“You haven’t… ah, seen other people?” Draco wondered what kind of fool he must be – to pine after someone like Harry. There was no chance Harry would be into someone like Draco bloody Malfoy. 

“Not really. It’s, er, a trust thing.” He cleared his throat. “Everyone treats me like I’m made out of glass, t’sais. Like if they’re rude to me, it’ll break me. It was refreshing to have a good-looking Englishman treat me like some crap under his shoe.”

Before Draco could retrieve his hand and apologise, Harry placed his own hand on top of Draco’s and ran his thumb along the delicate bones of his wrist. 

“I appreciated that.” Harry was smiling and his eyes were bright, and Draco felt absurdly drawn into them. “Because I’m not gonna break easy like that.”

Draco’s thoughts were a jumbled mess. Good god, he fancied the pants off Harry Potter. He had no time, no time at all, to craft an appropriate response, perhaps an apology, because Harry was leaning forward and he was dragging Draco toward him. 

Harry smelled like the sea breeze and like the lilac in their tea. His lips were pink and – 

“Draco, I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?” Harry whispered, as though it were a monumental secret. A confession too indecent for innocent ears.

Did he want Harry to kiss him? Kisses could be meaningless, they could be a promise for more but also a litmus test for compatibility, for incompatibility. Kisses could mean goodbye or this was nice. 

But damn it all, Draco wanted Harry to kiss him. 

“Yes.” 

But he didn’t wait for Harry to lean further. Instead, Draco slipped to the edge of his chair and closed the distance between their lips. There were a million reasons he shouldn’t be doing this. He wasn’t over everything Astoria had represented. He wasn’t sure if he and Harry even had a future. He wasn’t sure Harry, a gay man, was attracted to what was in Draco’s pants. He wasn’t sure of anything at all, and there were a hundred million reasons Draco shouldn’t be kissing Harry.

But those reasons evaporated to the furthest confines of his mind when their lips met. It tasted like wildflowers and sea salt. Harry’s lips weren’t chapped, but they weren’t the same kind of softness as a girl’s, as Astoria’s, were. When Harry’s tongue sought permission, Draco parted open for him like there had never been a question at all. 

Logically, Draco knew what kisses felt like. Of course he did. Of course he’d kissed other men before. But there was something about Harry that felt so real, so candid, that Draco thought he might drown in it. He wasn’t in love, not yet, but the possibility was there. It was there and it shone brightly like the sun. 

When they came up for air, Draco was relieved to find Harry just as flustered and out of breath as he was. Their tea remained forgotten in their mugs then, because Harry sucked him into another mind-blowing kiss. There was no hesitation to use tongue and teeth this time. The sounds Harry dragged out of Draco when he wrapped his tongue around Draco’s were truly pornographic. 

Before any of them could get any more carried away, Draco broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Harry’s. 

“Wow.” His brain was too deep into a foggy bliss to provide more coherent statements.

“Yeah. Wow.” Harry chuckled, still breathless, and cupped Draco’s face. One hand slid back to run through his hair while the other simply held him close. “You’re a real good kisser.”

It was Draco’s turn to chuckle, though it came out sounding much more like a breathy little snort. “Speak for yourself.” 

❤︎⁄⁄꒰* ॢꈍ◡ꈍ ॢ꒱.*˚‧

[sheryl-lee]

i’m so sick of watching female characters get forced into unnecessary love triangles where her only 2 choices are the most boring yt men you’ve ever seen

[dojutsufuryfray]

for my KakaIru Maze Challenge 2022 @kakairu-rocks​

[angelasscribbles]

Fall(ing) in Love

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Riley x Drake

Rating: PG, Fluff

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 1,265

A/N: This is from my prompt list/wheel asks event

This ask is for Drake x Fluff x Fall and comes from @kingliam2019

The top two pictures in the mood board were sent to me by @peonierose in a separate ask.

Thanks to both of them for the inspiration for this piece!!

My other stuff: Master List.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” She asked.

“Nope!” Drake smiled at her as he thrust a helmet into her hands, “You’ll find out when we get there, now put the helmet on.”

“Ok,” Riley shrugged as she took it, “Keep your secrets then.”

Twenty minutes later they pulled into the lot for the Stormholt County Fall Festival.

“Really?” She asked as she pulled the helmet off.

“What? You don’t like fun?”

“Hello.” She laughed, “I love fun! But who are you and what have you done with Drake Walker?”

He put a hand over his heart, “You wound me, Riley. I can be fun.”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, “Prove it!”

“What?” he laughed.

“I said…” She shoved the helmet into his stomach, “Prove it, Walker!”

“Oh, I will, then you’ll have to eat those words, Brooks!”

He smiled down at her, his copper and gold flecked eyes sparkling with humor. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the chestnut hair that hung in his face and she momentarily lost her breath as she gazed up at him.

Why had she never noticed how breathtakingly handsome he was?

Probably because she’d been too distracted by Liam to notice.

But she wasn’t distracted anymore, and she was starting to notice a lot of things about him.

Like the way his laughter delighted her, the way the deepness of his voice sent waves of butterflies through her, the way the weight of his stare sometimes made her uncomfortable, but not in a bad way.

“It’s not a date, Max!”

“Yes, it is, Riley! He invited you somewhere, you agreed to go, you’re in here getting dressed, worried about how your hair looks! That’s a date, blossom!”

“What? No!” She shook her head as she fluffed her hair again, “It’s just friends getting together for the afternoon.”

“Uh huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m Drake’s friend and I didn’t get an invitation to whatever it is he’s taking you to.”

“He’s just trying to cheer me up, Max.”

She’d been upset after the coronation, but not exactly heartbroken. She had declined to join the engagement tour, but she’d stayed in Cordonia at the Beaumont’s invitation.

It had been months and she hadn’t heard from Liam, nor had she attempted to contact him. It was probably for the best, really. What the hell did she know about being queen?

Drake, on the other hand, had been a frequent visitor to Ramsford.

“Keep telling yourself that if you want, sis, but that boy is one hundred percent in love with you! He hasn’t been coming here three nights a week because he likes our vineyards!”

She threw her hairbrush at him, “Shut up, Max! You’re wrong!”

Wasn’t he?

“Come on!” Drake reached for hand, dragging her towards the festivities, “You’re going to love this!”

She followed him through the fairgrounds, barely noticing anything they passed, she was too focused on how her hand felt in his.

Like it belonged there.

They stopped in front of a booth surrounded by barrels of apples.

Riley groaned, “Apples, of course… come on, Walker!”

“You don’t even know what we’re doing yet!” He protested.

“Enlighten me then.”

“First, you pick your own apple, then you insert the stick in it, like this.” He demonstrated then pointed to a spinning vat full of caramel, “Then you dip it in there.”

“Oooh! We’re making our own candy apples?”

“Told you this would be fun!”

“Ok, ok. This isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done!” She laughed.

She picked an apple, inserted the stick and followed him to the caramel vat.

“Now, make sure it’s on the stick good, or you’ll lose it in the caramel.” He told her.

“Since when are you an expert on dipping apples?”

“Uh…since forever! Sav and I used to come to this festival every year! I’ll have you know that my candy apple making skills are secondary only to my s’mores making skills!”

“Okay, show me how it’s done!”

“Here,” He said covering her hand with his as she dipped her apple, “You’re going to want to spin it like this.”

She was abruptly aware of how close his body was pressed against hers as he guided her through the process.

“Thanks.” She said, feeling suddenly shy.

“You’re welcome.”

They ate their apples as they walked through vendors selling trinkets, assorted games and random entertainers.

He slipped his hand into hers again as they entered the corn maze, “Don’t want you to get lost.”

“Right.” She agreed.

But he didn’t let go of it once they exited the maze.

She wasn’t complaining.  

“Hey,” he tugged on her hand, “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

She felt a surge of disappointment when he dropped her hand to pay for the food.

They ate gyros, and drank pumpkin spice apple cider while they listened to a local band on the outdoor stage.

“This is really fun.” She admitted.

“Told you I knew how to have fun, but this isn’t even the best part!”

“Oh, really?”               

“Yes, really! Come on!” His excitement was contagious as he lead her to the other side of the festival.

The sun had set by the time they reached their next destination. “What is this?” Riley asked.

“This is the Jack-o’-lantern fiesta!” He told her.

“This is amazing, Drake!” She exclaimed as they strolled through the display.

There were rows upon rows of intricately carved jack-o’-lanterns flickering in the night.

“So, you like it?”

“Yes, I love it!”

A low laugh rumbled out of him as he draped an arm across her shoulders, “I guess it’s time to eat those words then, huh?”

“Shut up!” She slapped him playfully on the chest.

“No, I’m serious!” He laughed as he stopped walking and pulled her around so they were face to face, “I was right, you were wrong. What do I get?”

“What do you want?” She asked, her heart suddenly in her throat as she found herself staring up at him, bodies inches apart, heart pounding.

“I don’t know.” His eyes searched her face as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I want….whatever you’re willing to give me.”

Her heart burst open as butterflies erupted from it. “Oh, yeah?”

His gaze stayed locked on her as he murmured, “Mm-hm.”

Drake was frozen to the spot, his heart thumping like a drum solo was being played in his chest.

He had no idea how this was about to play out. He wasn’t even sure they were on an actual date, because he had fumbled it so badly when he’d asked her.

Suddenly, she went up on her toes and he was kissing her.

Her kiss was so much better than he had imagined, and he’d imagined it a million times, at least.

Riley leaned into the kiss, it heated her insides and melted her heart. When they broke apart, a soft giggle escaped her.

“What?” He asked.

“Max thinks this is a date. Is it?”

A flush crept up his neck, “Do you want it to be a date?”

“Yeah.” She told him, “I think I do.”

A sappy grin broke out across his face, “Good. So do I.”

“I thought you didn’t do the whole dating thing.” She teased as they resumed walking, her hand slipping back into his.

“Yeah, well… I do now.”

Her heart filled up with happiness as they continued to stroll through the pumpkins, lights flickering from inside hundreds of jack-o’-lanterns, stars twinkling above them and a new found love struggling to life in two hearts.

[floralcyanide]

Autumn With Austin Headcanons

>> okay so I had ideas and ran with them tbh 😭 I love fall and I feel like doing fun fall stuff with Austin would be the best!! so here’s some headcanons for that

masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE!

❁ buying the biggest pumpkin at the market so you two can spend the evening gutting and carving it

❁ y’all start throwing pumpkin guts at each other and end up making a mess in the kitchen

❁ making seasoned toasted pumpkin seeds and enjoying them with some spiked (or non-spiked) apple cider curled up by a bonfire

❁ watching your favorite scary movies every night until Halloween

❁ going to a haunted house or haunted trail

❁ dressing up your pets for Halloween

❁ handing out candy to kids on Halloween night before you go to a party

❁ dressing up for the party and taking selfies

❁ you dress as Sidney Prescott and Austin dresses as Billy Loomis and everyone loves the costumes

❁ going to each other’s family Thanksgiving and meeting family for the first time

❁ your grandmother pulls you aside and says Austin is the best looking man you’ve brought home

❁ your cousins take advantage of Austin’s height and are constantly asking him for piggyback rides

❁ Austin’s family thinks you’re the sweetest person ever and asks you to taste test everything as it’s being made

❁ decorating your house/apartment for fall on the day of the solstice because it’s your favorite time of year

❁ fuzzy blankets with hot coffee while watching movies

❁ making autumn pies and soups from scratch together

❁ matching flannels and fuzzy socks

❁ apple picking!!! also pumpkin patches!!

❁ taking selfies in a sunflower field

❁ getting lost in a corn maze together

❁ bobbing for apples, going on a hayride, and going gem mining at a fall festival

❁ taking autumn themed photos to send to friends and family

❁ jumping in a giant pile of leaves and making a mess in the yard y'all just cleaned up

❁ making s’mores

❁ renting a cabin in the mountains for a romantic weekend and watching the trees change colors

❁ breaking out your favorite sweaters and hoodies

❁ stealing all of Austin’s said sweaters and hoodies

❁ the super aesthetic posts on Instagram of y’all’s decorated house and fall outfits

taglist:

@cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @alltheflowerstomav @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @apparently-sunshine-deactivated @amiets2 @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @shelbysbitchh @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @inthegardensofourminds

[citrusses]

"Draco pushed himself up and rested his head between his knees, and if Potter asked him if he was okay he didn't hear it. His head was buzzing and his stomach felt sour and he knew, as he hid behind the curtain of his hair, that there was no going back from this. That something unfortunate and wonderful had just happened, and he'd never be the same."

🍃 The July Tree by @oknowkiss (51K, E, 9-24-2022) Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love. OR: It’s Eighth Year, and Harry Potter has detention. What else is new? Well, since you asked: Greenhouse Four and the Tree of Life, for a start, and then there’s the new shared Eighth Year common room, and Harry’s sexuality, and these pesky dreams he keeps having about a blond man pushing him into things…

Much like Harry in The July Tree, "I can't just be normal about what I like" and boy oh boy is this fic one of those things. I have my favorite tropes, but I also adore when fics outside said tropes swoop in and knock me over at the knees. This eighth year jewel box of a story did that for me!

This is one difficult, passionate, transformative year in the lives of two boys on the cusp of adulthood who are figuring it out as they go. Lucky for us, we get to go with them. Featuring one (1) moody, semi-carnivorous tree, dual perspectives, sexy smoking, existential terror, "marathon shame wanks," Scottish sight-seeing, and as many moments of hilarity as there are starbursts of warmth and loveliness. (More effusive praise and a mild discussion of plot points under the cut)

I knew this would be a reread for me soon after staring the first chapter. There is just so much to love here. The PINING. The genuine MALICE they have for each other that evolves into understanding and affection. The way that it's as much a journey of self-acceptance as it is a chronicle of falling in love with another person. We get to spend time in both Harry and Draco's minds in such a way that each POV enhances the experience of reading the other.

I am not sure I could pick a favorite scene, but the one where they listen to music together took my breath away, and everything leading up to and including the train ride was monumentally lovely. I loved the smaller character details as well (glow up Neville, anyone else? Ginny FURIOUS that she's been sent flowers? That's canon.) @oknowkiss is a master of immersive, atmospheric prose and that skill is blazingly on display here. And now I'm excited to read it again, run don't walk to read it too.

[ctrsara]

Post-Surgery Sleepover

Read on AO3

After Pepper has emergency surgery, Happy and Rhodey are having a hard time getting Tony to take care of himself, so they call in the big guns.

@Comfortember 2022 prompts #3 - Warm Food, #6 - Exhaustion, and #17 - Falling Asleep on Someone and Using Irondad Prompt #40 from @idk-bruh-20, idea from @bayzadas

Happy Hogan and Colonel James Rhodes met Peter Parker, who was wiping at the lingering dampness in his hair, at the hospital room door. Thankfully, the suit Tony had made him was fairly water-tight. 

“Hey, kid. Thanks for coming. How’s the weather out there?” They were having an unseasonably cold thunderstorm that evening.

“Getting colder, but not too bad, he said with a slight shiver. I made good time. How is she?” Peter’s face was worried, as it  probably had been since he’d gotten Happy’s text a few hours before school got out that day. Happy almost hadn’t remembered to tell Peter he couldn’t pick him up for the internship today, since Pepper was having an emergency appendectomy. The kid had asked if he could do anything to help, and Happy had told him no. Later that night he’d changed his mind, though, and had texted Peter again.

Hey kid, if you’re not busy, maybe you could come to the hospital? We could use your help after all. Just whenever.

Peter had, of course, dropped whatever he was doing, and had arrived thirty minutes later, at nearly 10 PM.

“Pepper’s going to be fine,” Happy assured him. “The surgery went well, and she’s recovering. They’ve got her on some strong stuff, and she’ll probably be out the rest of the night, they said.”

Peter nodded in obvious relief. “So, what can I help with then?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

Happy nodded at the window in the hospital suite’s door. “You see that guy in there?” Peter looked through to see Tony sitting on the couch, apparently working on some project. He looked a little tired and stressed, but otherwise okay. 

Rhodey picked up the narrative. “He slept about an hour last night, since Pepper’s appendix started doing its thing shortly after midnight, and he got maybe four the night before. Plus, no one has had any luck getting him to eat anything all day, but he’s had enough caffeine to power a whole floor of interns. We thought he’d settle down and eat and sleep after she came through the surgery okay, but no such luck. Can you help us with him?”

Peter looked startled. “Me? What can I do?”

“Well,” said Happy, turning to the table behind him to grab a big styrofoam container, “You can start by getting him to eat. I just got this baked potato soup and some rolls from the cafe across the street.”

“Wouldn’t Colonel Rhodes have better luck?” Peter asked hesitantly, turning to his mentor’s best friend. “You can usually get him to do stuff.”

“I cut off his coffee two hours ago,” Rhodey said, “so he’s mad at me.”

Peter appeared to mull it over, holding the hot container of soup in his hands. “Wow, it smells so good,” he said, inhaling as he brought the container closer to his face. He tilted his head to the side.

“Do you think you could find me a couple of bowls and spoons?” Peter asked the two men.

Happy rushed off to make that happen. Any idea the kid had, he would try. He tried not to show it, but he was mildly frantic with worry about his boss. The man hadn’t slept even as much as he normally did this week, and his stress over Pepper’s pain and eventual surgery had him in a weird headspace. He had no idea how they were going to get the man to sleep tonight, but he needed it desperately. 

It was hard enough to get him to sleep at the Tower or the Compound when anyone was hurt or otherwise under care. Here at a “normal” (but very fancy) hospital, it seemed a hopeless attempt, even though Happy had asked for a twin-sized rollaway bed to join Pepper’s in her recovery suite. But getting Tony into that bed sounded impossible. Happy sighed. Food first.

“Here,” he said a few minutes later, brandishing the paper bowls and disposable spoons at the teenage superhero like they were weapons he was taking into a battle with particularly bad odds. Which, they kind of were.

“Okay,” Peter said, grabbing the bag of rolls, too. “I’m ready.”

Rhodey opened the door. Tony looked up with a poisonous glare. “Tones, the kid’s here to see you. Be nicer to him than you’ve been to us, okay?” He ushered Peter through the door. Happy was relieved that he left it ajar. He wanted to make sure they could hear. Tony would regret it later if things got out of hand and he yelled at the kid. It was kind of like kicking an overeager puppy, and Tony was usually pretty soft with the boy, but Happy wanted to be able to interfere if needed.

“Pete? What are you doing here?” Tony sounded surprised and a bit nonplussed. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather. Did you swing here?” he asked in mild alarm.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. I really wanted to see you, and see that Ms. Pepper was okay, so Happy finally told me it was okay to come.” Man, the kid ignored the last question and lied like a pro when he was trying to help someone else, apparently.

“Hey, I hadn’t had dinner yet though, and I thought you might be hungry, too, so I grabbed us some soup and these amazing-looking rolls on my way in. Want some?” He sounded completely sincere in his story. 

“Since when can Mr. I’m-a-superhero-but-I’m-also-like-ten” lie so smoothly?” whispered Rhodey incredulously. Happy just shrugged and shook his head in amazement. “I dunno. But I’m gonna be keeping my eye on him,” he said with a chuckle.

“Thanks kid, but I’m not hungry,” Tony replied distractedly. Looking through the window, they could see Peter ignore Tony’s refusal, and carefully pour soup into the two bowls, tearing off a couple rolls to go with each one. He arranged them on the little coffee table in front of the couch Tony had set up his work all over.

“Please, Tony? Don’t make me eat alone.” Happy couldn’t see Peter’s face, but the look he was probably giving Tony was one that had never failed yet. It was the main reason Happy had asked him to come here tonight, despite the rough weather outside, and despite Tony’s possible displeasure at Happy involving him.

Tony sighed in annoyance. “Fine, gimme.”

Peter moved sideways so Happy could see the happy grin on the boy’s face as he carefully handed Tony the bowl of soup, and set the rolls at his side. The kid dropped onto the floor on the other side of the table, sitting with his legs crossed to start eating his soup.

“Pete, hold on. Don’t sit on the floor.” Tony sounded more exasperated and resigned than annoyed or angry now, and he moved his tablet and piles of notes into an untidy stack and set them on the table, clearing a spot on the couch next to him, which the boy happily took.

Happy and Rhodey watched in awe (well, observed through sneaky glances here and there) as the kid got Tony to eat two full bowls of soup. Peter refilled both their bowls when they were empty, despite the mild glare his mentor shot at him while chewing on a roll. When Tony wasn’t looking, Rhodey whispered Peter’s name and set two bottles of water inside the cracked door. The sneaky little punk soon found a good excuse for those as well, and managed to get Tony to drink most of a bottle.

When the engineer acted like he was going to get back to work, Peter asked about watching a movie instead. Tony declined, starting to bring up designs on his Starkpad. Then the real sorcery happened.

“So, I’ll bet you were pretty scared when Ms. Pepper had to come in, huh?”

Tony froze, looking up from his notes in palpable discomfort.

Peter kept his gaze elsewhere. “When my Uncle Ben had to have his gallbladder out, it was super scary, and I hated thinking about what might happen during the surgery. I mean, usually everything is fine, but things happen, you know?” 

“Yeah, Pete,” Tony said quietly. “It’s scary. I’m glad she’s going to be okay.”

Tony abruptly started putting his papers away, then set them all down on the floor. “What do you want to watch, kid?” Tony asked gruffly, laying his head back in defeat. Apparently, the only thing Tony Stark hated worse than not working himself to distraction when he was stressed, was being forced to confront and talk about his feelings.

Peter grabbed at the olive branch quickly, clicking the tv on and rapidly scrolling through the options. “Hey, can we watch ‘The Martian?’ We never finished it, and it’s right in the middle, it looks like.”

“Are you serious? We stopped because it was so slow, kid. It barely kept your attention before.”

“Well, I want to finish it now. Is that okay, or do you want to pick?”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled.

Thirty minutes later Rhodey and Happy snuck quietly into the hospital suite, looking in amazement at Tony, who was fast asleep. He had his arm behind his intern, his head resting partially on his own shoulder and partially against Peter’s head. The boy greeted them with a soft smile. 

“Hey. I did it. Now what?”

“Uh…” Happy hadn’t though the plan past this point because he didn’t think it would get to this point. “Um, any chance we can get him into that bed? He nodded towards the twin-sized rollaway. 

Peter quirked an eyebrow, looking between the sleeping hero at his side and at the bed. “Can you bring it over here by the couch? Maybe move this table? I think I could slide him onto it without waking him if we don’t have to move him very far.”

Rhodey and Happy hurried to comply, pulling the top sheet and blanket completely down and out of the way. The overpowered teenager did manage to tilt and slide his mentor until he could roll him gently onto the bed, and they all held their breath to see if the slightly jostling would wake him. It didn’t. 

Peter stood up and stretched, ducking into the en suite bathroom briefly before returning. 

“I think we should move the bed over in this corner, as far away from Pepper’s as we can. People will probably come in a few times tonight, and we don’t want to risk waking Tony unless Pepper is awake,” Rhodey was explaining to Happy.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” The two men began to slowly move the bed further into the second part of the L-shaped hospital room, but at the last minute, Rhodey tripped over a cord, causing him to push the bed into the wall with a loud, abrupt thunk .

Immediately Tony stirred, groaning a little, and moving his hand around on the other side of the bed, obviously unsure where he was. Happy was certain his face reflected the horror on Rhodey and Peter’s.

Peter, moving just a little too fast to be normal, toed off his tennis shoes and slipped up on the bed next to Tony, rolling in close to him. “Shhh. I’m right here,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

And, surprisingly, Tony did. But not before turning to wrap his arm around Peter’s warm form and burying his nose in the top of the kid’s hair. Rhodey backed up rapidly, a hand over his mouth to avoid exclaiming, and Happy was biting back laughter hard at the wide-eyed look on the teen’s face. He was so surprised, and so unsure what had just happened. It didn’t look like there was any chance of Tony giving him up and staying asleep though. 

Peter glared mildly at Happy. “Pretty sure you owe me for this,” he muttered in a whisper. “And you’d better text my aunt.”

Happy nodded enthusiastically. Anything the kid wanted. Seriously. Peter sighed and shifted carefully so he was laying a little less flat, and Rhodey shoved a pillow behind his back for support in response to the pointed look the kid gave him and then the pillow. Then Peter tucked his head a little more securely under Tony’s, sighed softly in what might have been contentment, and closed his eyes. 

“FRIDAY, play some white noise please,” Peter said quietly. Surprisingly, Tony’s phone responded from the couch, doing just that. That was smart thinking. Maybe it would help keep Tony from being disturbed by any hospital personnel that needed to come in.

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

Early the next morning, Pepper was back asleep when Happy woke up on the couch, where he’d been taking his turn for some shut-eye. Pepper had woken briefly in the night when they came in to take her vitals and check her meds, but after a look across the room at her sleeping husband and his life-size teddy bear, and a quickly whispered explanation, she had forbidden them from waking him. Rhodey was reading in the recliner in Pepper’s part of the room. And Tony was… oh. Tony was awake, too, and looked completely bewildered. The curly-headed teen was snuggled into his side, but still passed out.

“What in the world happened here?” Tony whispered incredulously, half raised on an elbow. Peter stirred, and with a quick glance at the still-dark sky outside, and at Pepper sleeping peacefully, he laid back down, shushing the teen quietly. Peter stopped moving. 

Tony turned his head to stare skeptically at his forehead of security, and Happy was pretty sure he was going to hear about his part in this ambush. But his boss had eaten and slept all night, so he really didn’t care. What was he going to do? Fire him?

Happy felt a particular kind of satisfaction about ten minutes later when he noticed that Tony had fallen back asleep with his arm slung over the sleeping teenager. It was shaping up to be a very good day.

[geek-and-nina]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Willow (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jade Claymore/Kit Tanthalos Characters: Jade Claymore, Kit Tanthalos Additional Tags: Autumn Foliage Series: Part 1 of Show Don't Tell Summary:

Kit is having a mental block with her writing, but it's a beautiful day outside. So Jade takes on a stupid walk for her stupid mental health.

I have left something major out of the tags for spoiler reasons, but this is still definitely a 'no warnings apply' fic. Nothing bad ever happens here.