#genuinely surprised i haven’t seen this joke around on tumblr so here you go

[theycallme-thejackal]

@wonderlandleighleigh really wanted the road trip fic, so...here’s a rather long road trip fic (that I had to write twice because tumblr crashed).

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated M Warnings: Sexual Content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“If our ancestors could see us now.”

They’re sitting on a bench two hours north of Phoenix while the attendant fills the gas tank. Midge looks over at Lenny and licks her ice cream. “They’d wonder why the fuck they spent forty years wandering the desert only to watch us wandering a new desert.”

“Yes, but we have ice cream,” he points out.

"Right. I’m pretty sure the Israelites didn’t have ice cream three thousand years ago.” A drip of ice cream slides down the side of her cone thanks to the Arizona heat, and she licks it away before turning to look at him again. She giggles quietly. “You’re staring again.”

“Trying to figure out a joke about what you just did to that ice cream cone.”

She quirks a brow. “Nothing yet?”

“You’re the authority on dick jokes. I’ll just stay in my lane.”

“And it’s vanilla. So many jokes can be made about a licking a vanilla ice cream cone.”

He laughs.

---

Lenny takes the next leg of the journey, and Midge sits next to him much closer than necessary.

Right against his side closer.

His arm is draped over the seat behind her, his fingers stroking her bare shoulder occasionally, and it’s nice to be with him like this. Like they’re a real couple. They haven’t talked about anything real yet, but it feels like they’re headed in a positive direction. The direction they were headed before Carnegie Hall and his conviction in New York.

“Oh my god,” she breathes as she looks out the window. “Lenny, we have to stop here,” she says.

“Why? We’re only two hours from the California border.”

“Because look,” she says, pointing out the window.

He follows her gesture. “Oh my god.”

He parks a minute later, and they both get out of the car, walking up to the building. Both comic approach wide eyed and uncharacteristically silent. Because in front of them is the most insanely garish thing Midge has ever seen in her entire life. 

The Rusty Bolt is a bright green building with two porches. There’s a pink Edsel parked out front. But the most insane part of all the insanity...

There are mannequins. Everywhere.

There are some on the upper porch and the lower. There are some in the yard out front. A few on the roof. There’s one dressed like Elvis leaning against the back of the Edsel.

They stand there and stare at it for a long, long time.

“Lenny...”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m having a malfunction.”

“Too many jokes?”

“Too many jokes!” She cries. “I could talk for three hours and not run out of jokes about this place!”

“Only three hours?” He teases.

“Four if I really put my mind to it.”

“Atta girl.”

---

“Lenny, I am not eating here!” She laughs as he tugs her by the hand.

“Why not?” He asks with a smirk, walking backward toward the building.

“It’s called the Roadkill Cafe!”

“C’mon, there’s no way they serve actual roadkill,” he says, tugging her forward and wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

---

“They have definitely served roadkill there,” she says as she walks into the motel room.

“It’s not like we ate roadkill.”

“No, because I made sure to order something I knew wouldn’t touch the stove.”

He laughs and sets their bags down before closing the door. “This is fun,” he says when she turns to face him.

Midge raises a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not - I’m not surprised,” he says truthfully. He rubs at his jaw for a moment. “I just...the last few days, I’ve been worried about what it was going to be like when I got back to the real world. And it turns out it’s really nice. Because...because I’m with you,” he explains a little shyly.

The smile she gives him is bright and genuine, and she steps toward him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing him softly.

They don’t talk much after that.

---

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

Lenny’s arm is draped over her waist under the sheets, his fingers delicately tracing random patterns over her naked back. Her hand cups his jaw, and she enjoys the way his stubble gently scratches her fingertips as she caresses his face.

“I thought about calling instead,” she admits. “But...then I realized - ”

“You didn’t know how to contact me. Couldn’t get that information from your spook brother?” He teases.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she responds. He raises his brows. “I...I realized that if...if I had gone through what you did for the last couple of months, the thing I’d want to do most when it was all over...” She swallows thickly. “Would be to see someone who loves me, and - ”

He cuts her off by kissing her soundly, causing her to inhale sharply through her nose. He rolls her onto her back and presses against her, making her gasp against his lips as she drags her leg up to hook around his hip. “Lenny, I was - I was trying to tell you - ”

“I love you too, Midge,” he whispers, pulling away and meeting her gaze. “The first thing I was going to do when I got out was call you and tell you that.”

She feels tears pricking her eyes, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you,” she breathes as she tenderly rubs her thumbs along his jaw. “And I missed you so much.”

He kisses her lips. Then her cheek. Her neck. “I missed you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs against her clavicle. “You have no idea.” He continues kissing his way southward until he can settle between her legs and work at making her scream again.

---

The alarm goes off at eight, and Lenny rolls over, hitting the snooze button before curling back around her. She kisses the hollow of his throat. “We need to get up,” she murmurs.

“Not ready,” he grumbles, nuzzling his nose against her hair. “Ten more minutes.”

Midge giggles and tilts her head up for a quick kiss. “You can have ten more minutes while I shower,” she says as she slips out of bed.

That seems to pique his interest, though, and he joins her in the bathroom a few minutes later.

Three hours later, they cross the border into California, and Midge peeks over at Lenny. He seems more relaxed today. She’s not sure if it’s because it’s his first full day out of treatment or because of all the sex, but she’s choosing to give herself the credit.

The windows are rolled down, and he lights a cigarette, passing it to her after taking the first puff. “Tell me about Kitty,” she says.

She looks at him long enough to see the smile form on his lips before she looks back at the road. “She’s amazing, Midge,” he says with a softness she rarely hears in his voice. “She’s six and smart as a whip. Started reading at five years old.”

“That’s early,” Midge replies, impressed.

“Right now she lives with my mother, who you’ll also meet today,” he explains, and Midge feels a little nervous about that. “But once I’m back in New York and settled, I want her to come live with me.”

“You’re moving back to New York?” She asks hopefully, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering a little more aggressively.

“My lawyers have been working on the appeal, and they think I’ve got a good shot at not ending up in a workhouse. Especially since I voluntarily went to rehab.” He takes the cigarette back when she offers it, and he takes a drag as he looks at her. “Besides...I really want to make this work,” he adds.

Midge feels her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip gently before looking at him for a moment. “I do, too,” she says.

He slides over, sitting closer to her and draping an arm over the seat as he kisses her cheek.

---

They stop one last time in Amboy for gas, but when Midge’s stomach rumbles loudly, making her flush with embarrassment, Lenny suggests they grab a bite at the cafe before finishing the drive.

“This place looks like it probably doesn’t serve roadkill,” she says as they slip into a booth.

“Probably,” he says with a smirk.

They eat their sandwiches, and Midge steals some of Lenny’s fries and forces him to have a couple bites of her side salad. “Vegetables are good for you,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mocks teasingly before picking up his sandwich again. “So how’s everyone back east?”

“Still kicking,” she says. “Papa’s writing a lot, and Mama’s matchmaking business has exploded.”

“Literally?”

“Figuratively.”

“Thank god.”

She smiles. “Susie finally managed to get everything square with Frank and Nicky - ”

Lenny raises his brows. “How’d she pull that off?” He asks.

Midge sighs as she stabs her salad. “Mei’s family may have dealt with them.”

“Ah.” He takes a sip of his water. “The Lins are scary people.”

“Yes, they are,” she agrees. “And Joel...well, he’s stopped hitting on me for the time being, so I’m grateful for that.”

Lenny eyes her with something she can’t quite identify, and she furrows her brow at him. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I just...really hate your ex-husband,” he sighs.

“I’m not exactly his biggest fan either,” she drawls.

“When was...” He trails off, seemingly thinking better of the question.

“The last time he tried something?” She finishes. 

Lenny looks a little embarrassed about the question. “Sorry, I know we weren’t together, but - ”

“No, you deserve to know what you’re walking into,” she says, reaching out and squeezing his hand gently. “It was...six months ago. He showed up at my apartment after his bachelor party.”

“Fuck,” Lenny mutters.

“We didn’t,” she promises, getting a half smirk out of him. “I immediately turned him away. He was...pretty relentless, though. Joel is used to getting what he wants. Thankfully Noah was there to get him into a cab for me.”

“I’ve never met your brother, but I like him already,” Lenny comments.

Midge smiles. “He’s the best,” she agrees, stabbing her salad with her fork. “Even if he does work for the government,” she adds jokingly, and Lenny chuckles.

---

Lenny drives the rest of the way since Midge doesn’t know how to get to his mother’s house, and when the area becomes more residential, she looks over at him. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?” She asks a little nervously. “I don’t want to put a damper on your reunion.”

He reaches for her and takes her hand in his. “I want you here,” he promises, lifting her hand and kissing the back of it. “Kitty will love you, and Ma will either love you or deal with it.”

“Gee, that’s comforting.”

He pulls her toward him, and she leans against him as he returns his hand to the wheel. “Ma is only concerned with two things: Kitty and my career.”

Midge furrows her brow at the wording as she looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

Lenny sighs through his nose and reaches for the cigarettes. Midge takes them and pulls one out, lighting it for him before passing it. “Ma always wanted to be famous. She was a comic. And a stripper. She probably could teach those girls at the Wolf a few things,” he comments with a shudder, making Midge laugh softly.

“She wasn’t really present when I was a kid. And my dad...I don’t even know where he is - or if he’s even alive. But when I started doing comedy, she...got interested.”

Midge squeezes his knee gently. “I’m sorry, Lenny. That must have been really hard for you.”

He exhales some smoke out the window. “It is what it is. And I really wanted to be a good dad to Kitty, but...”

She nods in understanding. “You’re on the right track now,” she promises. “I saw the way you talked about her earlier. You’re gonna be a great dad.”

He passes her the cigarette and takes the hand settled on his leg. “I hope so.”

---

He parks the car in front of a nice, modest-looking house in West Hollywood, and Midge adjusts the mirror so she can check her hair. “You look beautiful, Midge,” he promises, gently pulling her chin toward him so he can look her in the eye. “Beautiful.”

Lenny slides out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car to open her door and let her out. He threads his fingers with hers as they make their way up the sidewalk together. When they get to the front door, he turns to her and takes a deep breath. “You’re about to meet my kid. Last chance to back out.”

She smiles up at him and squeezes his hand. “Never,” she promises.

He kisses her softly and then knocks on the door.

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[angrylizardjacket]

fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡 

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over. 

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen. 

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really? 

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown. 

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties. 

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending. 

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation. 

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public. 

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album. 

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was. 

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone. 

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong. 

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired. 

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room. 

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness. 

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back. 

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss. 

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it. 

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time. 

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter. 

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop. 

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head. 

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed. 

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him. 

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too. 

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

[luminescentauthor]

random fun RatLD hcs

you came here for RatLD shitposts and that’s what you’re gonna get!

SPOILERS AND LOTS OF THEM BELOW THE CUT, IF U HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET PROCEED AT UR OWN RISK.

I refuse to post about this movie without acknowledging the cultural significance of the first SEA disney princess and I will continue to do so until people on this website start remembering that this movie is about amazing cultures and trust and overall a WHOLE lot more than just the sapphics (as great as they are.)

anyway, so, headcanon time, my dudes!

The Next Adventure

Talon is a total mess after everyone gets un-stoned. (Ok so just for posterity, my marvel fan brain just went “un-snapped” on instinct and I hate it here.) The two chiefs are fighting for control, and Noi, being a baby, is not really in a position to help (unlike Raya, Naamari, and Tong.)

As such, the crew has to go undercover in Talon to try and, you know, stop the chiefs from destroying their people with their infighting. Tong insists on coming. Naamari happened to be in Heart and gets dragged along by Sisu and Raya, complaining the whole time, but everyone knows she doesn’t mean it. Boun also shows up and exactly no one is surprised.

During this misadventure, Noi’s mother names Tong as Noi’s godfather/honorary uncle/whatever, undercover Naamari and Raya go “noooooo, we’re not the princesses of Fang and Heart, what on earth are you talking about???” on at least five separate occasions, and the crew discovers that Noi inherited her sticky fingers from her very clever mother. She’s basically a grade-A spy and thief but she’s also just like, genuinely a very nice woman.

Rayaari!

Raya and Naamari take a long time literally just figuring things out and reconstructing their friendship, because really, as much as I love sapphics, there’s also a whole lot of messy there, and because these are my headcanons, they work out their problems and have a healthy friendship for a couple years before any romance happens, because that’s how Real Life works and I don’t believe in ignoring those Pretty Important Things in fiction.

They do eventually start a relationship, but they take their time. A bit into it, Benja accidentally mentions that Raya told him she liked Naamari when they met. Naamari’s like “ha you did?” and Raya goes “BA NO.” Then Virana immediately says “oh yes, Naamari also liked her, she didn’t stop crying because she thought Raya turned to stone for like three days” and Raya goes “you did, hmm???” while Naamari turns bright red.

Before they start dating, as their feelings grow, they start calling each other “dep la” more and more and everyone is just kinda of like “oh my GOD just date already???”

Eventually Raya and Naamari get married and become the leaders of Kumandra. No I Won’t Change My Mind.

Unification of Kumandra

The unification of Kumandra felt a bit shoehorned, and I suspect the nations aren't united under one leader(s): it's more that they're now becoming close-knit again. Perhaps they have a meeting council of all their leaders that makes decisions that affect the whole land, otherwise that probably becomes a thing at some point.

When Kumandra eventually becomes totally unified, the capital of Heart (which I believe is on the island we see on the map of Kumandra) eventually becomes the capital. It still has five provinces/states, though.

Fang and Heart

Heart and Fang help each other out a lot with recovering from the “most of our people got turned into the statues” stuff. Heart has more resources, but most of its people have been stone for 6 years. So the two states/countries are both capable of different things.

Of all the kingdoms, Heart and Fang have the most to rebuild: Fang’s only standing city was destroyed in the finale of the movie, while Heart has been growing over for six years. Sure, Spine’s been stone for a while, and some of Talon’s docks and water ships and whatnot collapsed when the water vanished, but it’s still significantly easier to repair than “six years of overgrowth and rot and rust” or “literally the ground collapsed underneath us and wow um I don’t think that’s reparable.” So they really team up to fix it, and the others help them a lot.

The actual leaders stay in their capitals to lead until things have calmed down a WHOLE lot, so Raya and Naamari travel around Kumandra on their parents’ behalf a lot, and wind up going between Fang and Heart a lot to establish diplomatic relations and also to help with rebuilding.

Over this period, and while doing diplomatic meetings later on, Virana and Benja come to realize that the other person is actual quite decent. There’s some mess and distrust because of Virana’s thing with the Dragon Gem, but it eventually gets worked out. (Virana’s reaction is “yes that’s fair. In my defense, I was trying to do what I thought was right for my people, who were starving, but Yes, That’s Fair.” Benja’s reaction is “honestly if your people were starving from famine and you thought the Gem would help, that makes more sense.”) After a while, they become pretty good friends.

And suddenly Raya and Naamari regret everything. See, Naamari mentioned that both parents make terrible jokes. The girls are Suffering. Help them.

Sisu loves the bad jokes. Sisu also makes bad jokes. Raya and Naamari are silently dying.

It’s silly, but I like the idea that 3-4 years down the line, Virana and Benja consider getting married just for political reasons (alliance and all that) (they’re not actually interested in each other, it’s just practicality) and Naamari and Raya, who are not dating but are definitely in deep for each other at this point, are immediately like “NO. NO. DO NOT MAKE MY CRUSH MY STEPSISTER. DO NOT.”

Virana and Benja (mostly Benja) tease them by “considering” it for a bit longer, but they don’t, since they talked about it and both kids are uncomfortable with it. (”They like each other, don’t they?” Virana asks dryly. “Ohhh yeah,” Benja replies.)

Music? Music!

I was listening to a youtube mix this morning and “Too Far Gone” by Hidden Citizens popped up and it just reminded me of Raya’s attitude towards Kumandra at the start of the movie. Also it’s just a beautiful song.

“Knife in my Back” by Alec Benjamin is Raya @ Naamari before they figured things out, change my mind.

Other Stuff!

We can guess based off how long it took the crew to get from Tail to Fang even with side adventures (I think it was 3-4 days max, I wasn't totally paying attention) that one can navigate from one end of the river to the other within a couple days even in a boat like Boun's, and the royal families probably have even faster modes of transportation. (I.e. Naamari got from Tail to Fang in a couple days, then to Spine, then beat the crew back to Fang. On land.) Therefore, unlike I was originally thinking, it's actually totally realistic for the crew to be visiting each other once or twice a month.

It's even more realistic for Naamari to crash Raya's place on a weekly basis, since that's probably like six hours on cat at max.

I don't know what the cats are, so I will be calling them saber-cats until someone corrects me.

TUMBLR JUST MYSTERIOUSLY STOPPED ACCPTING MY "E" KY HLP I HAV TO US COPY PAST

Wait I think I fixed it. Crisis averted! Sorry about that.

Because Naamari is in Heart half the time, Virana visits quite frequently too. It’s not a long trip, anyway.

Virana is not straight (haircut) but I can’t decide if she’s a lesbian or what. She doesn’t have a spouse and never did. Only those Virana closely trusts know who Naamari’s dad is. Naamari does know and she’s met him, because Virana figured she had a right to. He and Virana never had a relationship, Virana just sort of needed an heir and a trusted personal friend offered to father the kid.

Tong’s wife is a total badass and instantly fits in with the crew. She and Noi’s mother quickly become very close friends.

Noi and Tong’s kid also immediately get along. As in, they constantly throw things at each other while giggling madly and both love the Ongis, and -- are they whispering to each other in that corner?? They might be conspiring to take over the world. Who knows.

Noi learns how to talk and becomes about 5 times more chaotic. Everyone is Regret (except Tong.)

[rhenuvee]

The Heart in You (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: Remember when I said I was going to be a turtle when using Tumblr bc I’m new? My dumbass couldn’t find the delete button- dEaDaSs cLoWnErY right here.

Summary: Both you and Fred are known to have a playful type of rivalry, and none of you two want to be the first to ‘be nice’ to the other. But one day he starts acting weird, and you start feeling bad. 

Warnings: swearing :0

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

——————————

Yours and Fred’s rivalry was known to almost everyone in Hogwarts.

You were sort of friends, sure. You had most classes with each other, and sat next to him in Charms. You weren’t always a jumpy type of person, in fact before Fred started annoying you, you were quite shy. You couldn’t bother to remember when the bickering started.

He called you names, stole your belongings, bumped into you purposely in the halls, and now blocked your way when getting out of class. And the worst part, he did it all with that stupidly attractive smile of his. Merlin, how silly did you have to be to be distracted by someone where only their smile could make your knees go weak?

Fifteen seconds left... 

It was almost like the clock was giving you anxiety.

“Class...” started Professor Snape with his slow, dramatic tone of voice. You didn’t want to give Snape the impression that you hated his class, but just this once, you had to be the first one to exit. You moved your leg slightly out of the seat, and your hand gripped your bag tightly, swung over your shoulder.

“... dismissed-”

You dashed for the door immediately, and rather sloppily, probably broke or crumpled up things in your bag, but you didn’t care. To your dismay, you collided with a tall, red headed, figure, smiling right down at you. 

“Nice try princess.” You looked up to lock your gaze with none other than Fred. His smirk met with your scowl.

“Fred stop blocking my way!” You protested, trying to push him out of the way. Sadly, with his years playing as beater, it didn’t take much force for him to use his arms and stay in place.

He used his tall stature to block the doorway of the classroom, with his arm stretched out so you couldn’t get out. This wasn’t a first, in fact, you lost count a few weeks ago. He made you late to quite a few classes and meals. 

A few students exiting gave both of you weird looks, and most treating it as if this wasn’t the first time this happened- because well, it wasn’t. 

“Come on lovebirds, there’s plenty more time at lunch to flirt.” said George. He too seemed tired of your bullshit as he leaned on the wall outside of the class. You huffed as you fixed yourself up, and made an ugly face at Fred. He in turn made a kissy face back at you, which made you rush out the door, with your face flushed red.

That annoying jerk, you thought, he always knew how to get to you. But he wasn’t done with you yet. You made your way to the Gryffindor table and sat across from Angelina. The twins as usual, came bouncing in right behind you and sat next to you, one on each side.

“You know love, if you kept making that face it might get stuck like that.” He said leaning with his elbow on the table. “Oh and how would you know that hm? Is it because it happened to you?” you shot back. But deep inside you knew that wasn’t true- it was the last thing his face would be, he was gorgeous. George ooed at your statement and Angelina rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Liar liar as always (y/n), when will you admit that you’re mad for me.” he said cheekily. Of course he had something to say back that would make your face red. “Another day...” sighs Angelina resting her hand on her forehead.

-----

Your body tensed when Professor McGonagall asked everyone to find partners to practise dancing. None of the boys seemed willing to get up from their seat, who would want to practise with you, let alone ask you to the ball? 

“C’mon let’s go.” said Angelina taking your hand and leading you to the twins. Oh no, not them, not Fred... 

“George would you like to practise with me?” Angelina asked. “Yeah, sure.” replied George before winking to you and Fred. You stood there frozen with your brows furrowed, how could they? 

“Well, let’s get to it darling.” he said. “Tch, whatever.” you muttered turning away from his gaze, and getting slightly hotter when he put his one hand on your waist and the other linked with your hand. 

You kept looking back at McGonagall, trying to follow her steps, and also down at your feet a lot. To be honest, you didn’t want to meet Fred’s eyes. A few minutes later, you realized he hadn’t said anything or teased you at all. You slowly lifted your head to see what was up. 

You were surprised to see his head was also down, looking at his feet. He looked up when he felt your gaze, but instead of his usual smirk and flirty one-liner, you were met with an expression you haven’t seen. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, cheeks with a tiny bit of pink, and eyes filled with... confusion, or concern? 

“Sorry love, I almost stepped on your foot there.” he said sheepishly. This was new. You weren’t sure if he was playing or being genuine. “It’s okay.” you reply quietly, unsure of his behaviour.

Midway through the lesson, you could count the number of times he said “Sorry” or “My apologies darling.” It was quite a lot of times, and the weirdest part was that he seemed truly sorry for accidentally stepping on you a few times. You appreciated that he apologized, but this was strange. When Professor McGonagall announced that the dance lesson was finished, you both sighed, and just stood there for an awkward moment. 

“Reckon whoever’s going to the ball with me will have an interesting dance.” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah...” you said softly.

“So how was it?” asked George as he and Angelina came over from their spot. “Couldn’t really get it...” replied Fred looking down at his hands. Was he... embarrassed? 

Suddenly you felt a little guilty for spurting insults at him earlier, and for hitting him in the arm with your books, and calling him names. Yes, he had done the same too, but it wasn’t like someone as confident as him to get embarrassed and shy. You hoped that it wasn’t your continuous back and forth that made him feel worse of himself.

---

This weird behaviour continued into the next week. People around you were shocked to see you both dialed down at least 50%. You hated to admit it, but you secretly missed the playful banter you had with him.

The Yule Ball was coming closer, and you still didn’t have a date. “Go with Fred.” said Angelina casually. “Are you joking?” you asked. 

“Oh? And I thought you both calmed down and finally admitted your feelings to each other.” You groaned at her statement. Alicia and Katie came over. “(Y/n), why can’t you see that he fancies you too?” asked Katie. 

“W-well even if he does, I don’t think he does anymore...” you said timidly. “He’ll probably say yes anyway (y/n).” said Alicia reassuring you.

You pursed your lips. They knew you liked him, and you hated that. You were a girl who rivalled against him, both competing for a better argument and the last word. You were told constantly that he flirted with you because he fancied you. Some of your retorts you admit might’ve been a bit much, so why would he like you after all that?

---

The next day, you walked in the Charms classroom with a weird feeling in your stomach. You felt even weirder when Fred plopped himself down, and put his stuff down on the floor of his side? Usually he dropped his belongings smack in the middle, invading your space, claiming he needed ‘more room for his long limbs’, and that you could spare a bit of your space. 

“Not going to put your stuff here?” you asked. “Didn’t want to disturb you.” he said before turning back to Professor Flitwick.You could tell that he didn’t sound his best, when he said that. But still, shouldn’t he be busy kicking you under the table, or looking over at your parchment?

---

“Fred!” you shouted a little too loudly as you tried to catch up with him after class ended. He turned around and walked back over to you, before waving to his twin telling him he’ll be there later. Your heart already started beating faster.

“Um, a-are you okay?” you asked. Well, that was a bit too general wasn’t it. “Course, why wouldn’t I be?” he smiled at you, until he went back to looking down at his feet, his hair covering part of his face so you couldn’t see it. Now you really felt sorry, you didn’t know what caused him to act less energetic, less loud, less of himself, but you didn’t want to be one of the sources. 

You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that you were going to hex the girls if this went wrong. “Please (y/n), we wouldn’t want to go without you!” the girls voices from the other day rang in your head. 

“I-I was wondering... if you wanted to go to the Yule ball with me..?” you asked shyly. “Hm?” he hummed, not looking up. 

“Would you like to... gototheYuleballwithme?” you said the last part rather quickly, almost a whisper so no one in the hall could hear you. Your face was beet red, scared to face Fred’s reaction.

...

“Knew you would give in darling.” he said brushing the hair out of his face and smirking at you. The familiar fiery hot boiling feeling began to rise from within you, and unfortunately to your face. “And I would love to go with you.” he said.

“Wh- I- FRED!!” you yelled out of anger and embarrassment. “Always knew you had a heart in you, was just waiting for when you’d show it-” “FRED WEASLEY, YOU’RE SUCH AN ASS!” you yelled frustrated. 

“Aw, it’s okay (y/n), I mean- hey! You there! Guess who asked me to the Yule ball!” he said tapping a random person on the shoulder. “Fred-” “In fact- EVERYONE! GUESS WHO JUST ASKED ME TO THE YULE BALL-” 

“FRED!” you said hitting him in the arm. He was too busy laughing his ass off to feel the pain of your hit. “I hate you.” you hissed, as he calmed down. “I think you’re cute too.” he said sweetly. 

“All that ‘sadness’ since the dance practice for the ball was all an act?” you asked frowning. “Well, I wouldn’t call it sadness. But since you said so- I’m feeling a lot better now that you think I’m handsome.”

“I didn’t say-“

“See you at the ball, love.”  he said bringing his hand softly to the side of your neck to kiss you on the cheek. You froze with your eyes wide. You were ashamed to say that your mind kept replaying the moment. A few seconds later, your mind snapped back to reality, and started going after Fred.

“F-Fred! You can’t just randomly do things like that! Come back here!” you yelled as he too started running. Both your voices echoed in the distance. George and Angelina saw as the two of you rushed by the entrance of the great hall, up to your usual chase.

“How long until you think they get married?” asked Angelina to George.

“Tomorrow.”

—————————

Link to pt 2: Here

[bstvst]

Pairing: Hana x MC (Riley)

Word Count: 889

A/N: Based off of the prompt, “Hana x MC angst where MC is injured,” from @curiousgeorgeii. I’m so sorry this took literally over a year, but I just logged into my tumblr again and looked through my drafts and saw I was almost done this one, so here you go.

“Riley?! RILEY WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hana was screaming at the top of her lungs over the sound of couples trying to find their way back to each other.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go, today was supposed to be their day, together, alone. Since their daughter Lily had been born, the couple hadn’t been able to get that many moments alone together. Then Riley surprised Hana with a horse-drawn carriage and a romantic night out in Cordonia for their 2 year anniversary.

Hana was exhausted from her duties in Valtoria and caring for Lily, but she saw how excited her wife was about their evening and decided to go along, thinking she would be able to relax for once.

When Hana finished getting ready in a red gown that Riley had set aside for her, Riley was waiting in the foyer, dressed up in a beautifully simple black dress that had a slit down her left leg. “You are so beautiful, Riley.” Hana had her breath taken away as her wife kissed her on the cheek.

“Says you, you are stunning my love,” Riley smiled that genuine smile that always amazed Hana.

The carriage ride to their first stop was spent with both women teasing each other, hands on thighs, ears being nibbled, whispers of what was to come later in the evening.

When they got to their location, a lakeside gazebo set up with a 3-course meal, a violinist, and candlelight, Hana’s breath was taken away for the second time that night.

“Well, what do you think?” Riley asked as she took her wife’s hand and led them towards the table.

“It’s amazing Riley, you’re amazing,” Hana replied sitting down and looking into her wife’s eyes.

Their dinner consisted of reminiscing about when they met, their wedding, and thoughts of what was to come in the future with their daughter.

“The night’s not over yet, my dear,” Riley said with a smirk, grabbing her wife’s hand once again and leading them back into the carriage.

The couple’s second stop consisted of a Cordonian street festival that had  fiddles that were being played by street performers who smiled as they looked on at the happy Cordonian couples dancing.

“While I love Cordonia’s apple festivals, I thought this one was better suited for this evening,” Riley said as she extended her hand to Hana, a silent offer to join the happy couples in dancing to the music. As the noble couple started dancing, Riley explained that the festival was Cordonia’s festival of summer romance, not to be confused for the festival of winter romance.

About three songs in, Hana moved to find a seat while Riley followed. “This night has been amazing darling,” sighed Hana dreamily, “could you find me some water though? I’m parched.”

“Of course my lady, I’ll be back in a minute,” Riley winked as she left to find the closest street vendor.

Hana continued to look around, comforted by all the happy couples dancing to the music, when everything suddenly started to shake. While earthquakes were common to the people of Cordonia, no one was expecting one of this magnitude to occur this month, so when everyone realised what was happening, people immediately ran into stores to get out of the open in case of any falling debris.

The earthquake lasted for about thirty seconds before people stopped feeling the aftershocks, and as soon as she was sure about there being no more, Hana immediately went back out in the street to look for her wife.

“Riley?! RILEY WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hana was screaming at the top of her lungs over the sound of couples trying to find their way back to each other.

“Hana! I’m here!”

Hana heard her wife and ran towards the sound of her voice, she found Riley under a fallen awning with what looked to be a broken arm, but as Hana looked closer, she could see a young girl that her wife was shielding. “The thing came down so fast so I covered her,” Riley explained sheepishly while Hana just smiled.

As soon as emergency medical services were on the seen, Hana made Riley see the paramedics for a temporary sling until they got back to Valtoria where their doctor would properly treat Riley’s arm.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Hana said when the two were back in their carriage and on their way back to their duchy.

“It’ll take a lot more than a little earthquake to take me away from my family,” Riley playfully said, but immediately hugged Hana when she saw her wife trying not to cry. “Hey baby, I was only joking, and it wasn’t even a bad earthquake.”

“I know, we just haven’t had that much time together in the grand scheme of things and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you so soon,” Hana said while now crying into her wife’s shoulder.

“Well, you can’t get rid of me that easily, you’re gonna be stuck with me for a while so save your tears for when I’m making you laugh super hard,” Riley said as she wiped Hana’s tears off her face. “I love you.”

“I love you too, thank you for tonight, but you’re taking it easy until that arm heals,” Hana said pointedly.

“Of course my love.” 

[haberdashing]

A Humble Abode

Jon and Martin learn the backstory behind Daisy’s Scottish safehouse. Inspired by this tumblr post (spoilers).

on AO3

“You must be Nancy’s boy then?”

It was Jon and Martin’s fourth visit to the village... well, technically Martin’s fourth and Jon’s third, as Jon had opted to skip the second go-around; he’d worried that he’d stick out like a sore thumb, even more than Martin alone would in a town as small as this one where new people didn’t exactly show up every day. Given that the villager (a middle-aged woman with gentle eyes whose name Jon didn’t know) was looking up at Martin as she asked the question, though, Martin’s presence evidently hadn’t gone unremarked upon either.

Jon glanced over at Martin, had his gaze returned before Martin looked back at the woman who’d asked the question and broke into a soft, shaky laugh.

“What gave it away?”

The woman didn’t so much as blink an eye. “You’ve been coming from her house, haven’t you? Well, her old house, the one up on the hill, though I assume now...”

Her speech trailed off, but Martin didn’t hesitate to pick up the missing pieces.

“It’s ours now, yeah.” Martin’s hand brushed against Jon’s when he said the word ours. “Though it’s been, er, a bit of a difficult ride to get that far. I don’t know how much she told all of you... did she ever- ever mention me, by chance?”

Jon looked over at Martin again, but this time Martin’s gaze remained focused on his current conversation partner instead of him.

The woman shook her head. “Only in passing. Your mother was always a very private person, especially when it came to her family life, what brought her up here in the first place... I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“Honestly, it’s good to hear we had something in common there, at least.” Another laugh from Martin, this one a bit fuller, a bit more genuine. “The name’s Martin, by the way, and this is Jon. Now, if you don’t mind...?”

“Oh sure, sure, don’t let me keep you. And I’m Sandy; it’s nice to meet you, Martin and Jon.”

It wasn’t until after they finished getting groceries, when the two of them were far enough along on their walk home that they weren’t risking being overheard, that Jon and Martin discussed the matter.

Jon hadn’t been expecting Martin to speak up before he could get around to it, truth be told, but Martin plunged ahead anyway at the first sign of a lull in the conversation.

“So who the hell is Nancy?”

Jon blinked a couple times in surprise before realizing what Martin was referring to. “Your mother, apparently.”

“I promise you, my mother never lived in the Scottish Highlands, of all places.”

“That’s not what you told Sandy.”

“Well, no, I wasn’t going to... hang on, did you actually think I was telling the truth there?”

Jon didn’t say anything, but the way his face heated up said enough for him.

“I just figured playing along was better than the alternative! Do you really want people asking why two strangers are suddenly living in ‘Nancy’s house’?”

“Well, no, but- ‘did she ever mention me?’“

“Yeah, I wanted to know if I needed to- to go by a fake name or something, to make sure I kept the story straight! Not... Christ, Jon, you’re ridiculous.”

Jon waved his hands in the air in protest. “I’m ridiculous?”

“We’re both ridiculous, if that makes you feel any better.”

It didn’t, really, but Martin grabbed Jon’s hand as he spoke, and that did make Jon feel better, at least a small bit.

They walked for a moment in silence before Martin spoke up again, his tone a bit more solemn than before.

“I don’t suppose ‘Nancy’ is just the name Daisy used when buying the house, and that woman happens to be really bad at guessing ages?”

Jon snorted at the mental image of Daisy being assumed to be Martin’s mother, though his heart wasn’t really in it, not now that the knowledge of the truth was starting to trickle in. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“So we’re- we’re living in a dead woman’s house, then, is it?” Martin gestured up at the house in question, which wasn’t all that far off now.

“I mean, when you think about it, most houses have been a dead person’s house at some point in time. Especially around here.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it.” There was no real fire in Martin’s voice, despite the protesting words.

“...fair enough.”

“Did- did Daisy really kill some sweet old woman named Nancy, er-”

“Houlihan.” Jon hadn’t meant to speak, really, not out loud, not so Martin could hear, but evidently his voice traveled enough for Martin to make out that he had spoken, because Martin was looking back at him with a strange expression on his face.

“Sorry?”

“That was her name- her, her full name. Nancy Houlihan.”

“...right.” Martin wrinkled his nose a bit. “Forgot you can just- Know things like that sometimes.”

“Sometimes even when I didn’t ask to Know in the first place.” Jon’s laugh was a bitter one, and he shook his head a little as the two kept walking.

“So did Daisy really kill sweet old Nancy Houlihan just to get herself a new safehouse?”

The information was coming whether Jon wanted it or not now, pictures as well as words, some more directly related than others: a few seconds of Daisy and Nancy fighting, then the amount of times Nancy left her house between the hours of midnight and dawn, then an old photograph of Nancy with her arm around her teenage son (whose only resemblance to Martin lay in his freckles), then the date that the two fought and that said date was the night of a full moon...

“I don’t think Daisy did it just to get the safehouse. I think that was just... a bit of a bonus.”

“Then why would she go after-”

“Do you really want to know?”

Maybe there was something in Jon’s eyes, a weariness showing from the knowledge being poured into him against his will, but just staring at Martin for a moment was enough to get him to back off a bit, hands raised above his head.

“No, not- not really. Just... I guess it explains some things? And leads to more questions, too. Like-”

Martin opened the front door and the two of them began putting away their groceries, but the conversation continued just the same.

“I always kind of wondered why this place was so... cozy? It really doesn’t seem like Daisy’s style, you know?”

Jon shook his head, his laugh genuine as he added, “It’s really not.”

“So I guess this must all be Nancy’s style, then, but I’ve never seen any- any old photos, or papers with her name on them-”

“Daisy burned them all. Didn’t want any way to trace the home back to its former occupant.”

“That makes sense, I suppose...suppose we should be glad she didn’t think to ask the villagers, eh?”

“Hmm?”

“Or she’d have to, what, burn them too? Just a big bonfire of everybody who knew about Nancy Houlihan?”

Martin’s tone was light, joking. Jon wasn’t so sure Daisy destroying everybody in her path was proper humorous material. He didn’t speak up, but his silence spoke volumes in and of itself.

“I guess it’s a good thing it worked out this way, so we’d have somewhere to go, at least. And somewhere so nice, too. Thanks, Nancy, I guess.”

Jon nodded, echoing the words with a bit more solemnity than Martin had put into them. “Thank you, Nancy Houlihan.”

[does-this-look-logicality-to-you]

Ordinary

words: 3256 universe: human AU characters: Patton, Logan, Poman pairings: romantic Logicality, platonic Royality warnings: angst, crying, kissing (which i’m not very good at writing in the first place) a/n: this is a sequel to “little miss perfect”, an absolutely wonderful fic written by an absolutely wonderful person, @katlikethesword​. this is my first songfic, and my first time writing a kissing scene, so i hope it’s okay. enjoy!

I notice how she looks at me, but I pretend that I don’t see. It’s easier if I let the tension subside. It had been three months since Patton had last spoken to Logan. It tore at his heart every time he saw his friend avoiding his gaze, averting his eyes whenever they met Patton’s. He missed Logan horribly; after all, he had always considered the intelligent boy to be one of his best friends. Patton often wondered if Logan hated him. After the last time they’d spoken, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d moved much too quickly, and had made a fool of himself. As usual.

I’ve seen it in the books I read, a magic that you cannot see. There’s no limitations, they wear it with pride. Patton was standing by his locker, getting ready for his next class. His eyes fell on a drawing he had attached to the door of Steven and Connie from Steven Universe. Roman had drawn this for him as a gift for his last birthday, a very nice drawing that had taken him days to complete. Patton stopped for a moment. They looked so happy together, without a care in the world. He couldn’t help but wish he and Logan could be like that again, like they used to— whether he wanted their relationship to be platonic or not, he wasn’t sure. Still, why couldn’t it be that easy?

But the characters I read never act or look like me. I can’t depend on them to lead me through the right door. Suddenly, Patton felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He spun around and, to his delight, there was Logan. “Logan!” His voice was probably about five times as loud as it had to be, but he didn’t care at all. Logan was talking to him again! By his own free will!  “I’ve missed you! Where have you been?” “I’ve still been in school, Patton. I’m legally obligated to be here, after all.” Logan gave Patton one of his rare, genuine smiles, making his heart do a flip in his chest. “That’s a good point. So what’s up?” Patton asked him. “Well, I actually wanted to ask you if you would like to come to my house tomorrow night? My parents will be out of town, and I figured it would be a good time to reconnect.” Hold the phone. Logan wasn’t mad at him? He wanted to see him? And spend time with him? “That sounds perfect, Lo! I’ll absolutely be there.” He beamed up at his friend and was rewarded with another smile. “Good to hear. I’ll see you then.”

And what’s the point of falling when I know I’m only stalling? For the rest of the day, Patton could hardly focus in class. His thoughts all went back to Logan, Logan, Logan. What had prompted him to invite him over? Why had he stayed away for so long? What was going to happen that night? Was it going to be awkward, after what had happened before? Were they going to be alone, or were there going to be other people there? This went on for the rest of the day, which meant that he had hardly thought about anything else. After the last class of the day had ended, Roman was waiting at the door. “Hey, Pat. You okay? You’ve been kinda zoned out all day.” “Oh, yeah, I’m- I’m fine!” Patton replied cheerfully. “Just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Roman gave a knowing smirk as the two of them started heading out of the building. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain nerd, would it?” “What?” Patton let out an awkward laugh. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about!” “Uh-huh. Okay, sure. It’s not like I saw him talking to you in the hall earlier or anything. For the first time in months. What was that all about?” “Nothing!” “Looked like a little more than nothing.” “He just asked if I could come over tomorrow.” They reached the building’s exit. Patton held the door for Roman as he passed. “It’s not that big a deal, he’s my friend.” “Yeah, because friends ignore each other for three months, and then suddenly invite them over out of the blue.” Patton went silent for a moment. “It’s… It’s complicated.” “Whatever you say, Padre,” Roman chuckled. “I’ll text you the notes when I get home, okay?” “Thanks, Roman. I really appreciate that.” “No problem.” Roman started toward the school parking lot. “You driving home?” Patton shook his head. “I’m walking today. It wasn’t my turn to take the car this morning.” “I can drive you home, if you want.” “No, that’s okay. I can walk.” “It’s really no problem. C’mon, hop in.” Patton opened his mouth to object, but Roman was already opening the door and pushing him into the passenger seat. Patton buckled his seatbelt as his friend went around the car, got into the passenger seat, and turned on the engine. “You know where I live, right?” “‘Course I do.” “Really? You sure you won’t get lost.” “Patton, I’ve been to your house dozens of times. I know exactly where you live.” Roman buckled his seatbelt and backed out of the parking spot. “So, what’re you gonna wear tomorrow night?” “Probably the same thing I’m wearing to school that day.” Roman shook his head as he left the school parking lot and turned right. “No, absolutely not. You’ve gotta look nice! This is your first date!” “It’s not a date!” “Did he invite you over?” “Yeah, but—” “Is anyone else gonna be there?” “I dunno. I don’t think so.” “It’s totally a date. So you need to wear something nice. What about that skirt you got last weekend? The light blue one, with the cats on it?” “Do you think he’ll like it?” “Oh, he’s gonna love it.” Their conversation went on like this for a while. Patton found it refreshing to talk about his feelings with Roman without anyone else around to hear. Soon enough, Roman arrived at Patton’s house. Patton got out of the car and onto the sidewalk by his house. “Bye, Pat!” Roman called, rolling his window down. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” Patton  waved goodbye. “Bye!” With that, Roman drove away. Patton sighed and, dragging his feet, trudged to the front door of his house.

‘Cause I have to go back home… where I’m just one in the herd, tripping over my words, trying hard to go with the grain, keeping the quirks in my brain. As usual, Patton received no acknowledgement upon entering his house. His mom was on the phone, likely talking to one of her clients, and his dad was playing outside with his two little sisters. This didn’t surprise him; nobody in his family ever greeted him when he got home. Sighing, Patton headed up to his room, throwing his backpack down on the floor and laying on his bed. He took out his phone and opened Tumblr, scrolling absent-mindedly.

I’m on the brink of discovery I think, but what if I’m dreaming? That’s what it seems like. Logan hardly left Patton’s mind the rest of the night. His head buzzed with endless questions for his classmate, none of which he would dare ask. Why had he invited Patton over? Why was he only now expressing a desire to rekindle their friendship, after avoiding him for so long? Patton knew he should probably resent Logan for acting as if he didn’t exist. After all, he wasn’t sure he had done anything wrong. Had he? Maybe he had, and he just didn’t remember. After all, he did have a pretty lousy memory. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to be upset with Logan. He couldn’t help it; he cared too much for him to harbor any hard feelings. He instead felt relief that Logan hadn’t given up on their friendship, alongside a giddy kind of excitement for the next night. He loved all of his friends, of course, but there was something different about Logan. The way he listened intently to Patton’s ramblings no matter how absurd they were, the subtle smile that crossed his face when he was amused by Patton’s ridiculous puns and not wanting to admit it, the way he went off on tangents about the things that interested him. All of these little things, to which nobody else seemed to notice, were what made Logan special. All of a sudden, Patton felt a twist of fear in his chest. What if tomorrow went horribly wrong? What if this was some kind of elaborate joke? What if he messed up somehow, and made Logan hate him all over again? Patton shook his head to clear it. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

‘Cause this girl thinks I’m part of her world, and that new territory’s scary. If I turn the handle, am I asking for a scandal? Patton stood at the door, fidgeting with his skirt. The same worries that had swarmed in his head the night before remained all throughout the day, no matter how hard he’d tried to ignore them. Finally, after hours of waiting and worrying and wondering, he was standing on Logan’s front porch. He took a deep breath, smoothed out his shirt, and rang the doorbell. Almost immediately, the door swung open, and Logan was standing in front of him. The sight of Patton seemed to take him off guard, opening and closing his mouth as if searching for the right words. Patton broke the silence. “Whaddya think, Lo?” he asked, swishing his skirt a little. “I saw it had cats on it and I knew I had to get it immediately.” “You look… magnificent. I mean gorgeous! No, I mean good! You look good, Patton.” He couldn’t help but giggle. He’d always found it endearing when Logan got all flustered like this. “I know what you mean, don’t worry. Thanks!” Logan moved out of his way, and Patton stepped inside. “Make yourself at home.” He followed the other boy into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Should I try to be ordinary? “So… what do you wanna do?” Patton asked, feeling a bit awkward. “It’s up to you. You’re my guest, after all.” “Yeah, I guest that’s true,” he cracked with a goofy grin. Logan rolled his eyes, groaning. “You haven’t been here for a minute and you’re already making puns?” “Aww, c’mon, you gotta admit, they’re pretty pun-derful!” Despite his dramatic eye-roll, Patton didn’t miss the soft laugh that escaped Logan’s lips, making his heart skip a beat. Baaah!

I’ve always been a little odd, the only pea inside the pod. That’s not an expression, I’m guessing, oh well. Before long, the two were going about their night as if nothing had changed. Logan had ordered a pizza— Patton had offered to pay multiple times but he had insisted on it being “his treat”— and they ate their dinner on the couch, watching Steven Universe. Logan had nestled between Patton’s legs, Patton’s arms draped around him. A peculiar sight for many, but it wasn’t that unusual for them. Patton was a naturally affectionate person, and Logan didn’t seem to mind his cuddly tendencies. When the episode ended, Patton was struck with an idea.

“Let me braid your hair!” he blurted without thinking. See, that’s exactly what I mean! I’m just as awkward as I seem! Plus she makes me nervous, I hope she can’t tell. Embarrassment flooded over him. What a stupid thing to stay! He hadn’t been prompted by anything, they hadn’t even said much at all, and here he was suggesting something Logan surely thought was childish! “What?” “Let me braid your hair! I have two younger sisters, so I know how! Plus I think your hair would look really good braided!” His suggestion may have been stupid, but he couldn’t retract it now. Logan looked as if he was about to object, but, in an act of desperation, Patton broke out his secret weapon: his puppy-dog eyes. “Alright, fine.” Logan’s reluctant response discouraged Patton more than he would like to admit, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he just clapped happily, cheering in triumph. Gosh, he must look so ridiculous! “You’re too tall to do it like this,” he said. “Here, lay down in my lap.” Logan moved to do as he was told, and Patton slipped into the familiar motions of braiding, using his fingers to comb through his silky hair.

What is it she sees in this cluster clump of me? Or, could it maybe be I’m going crazy? And hey, who am I kidding? This isn't some sweet beginning! Just a detour to the end. Then back to the herd, tripping over my words, trying hard to go with the grain, ignoring the quirks in my brain. It didn’t take long for Patton to finish the braid, as Logan’s hair was much shorter than what he was used to. Satisfied with his handiwork, Patton started to lean back. Alarm shot through him as Logan reached up and grasped his shirt. His deep brown eyes met Patton’s. The voice inside his head was yelling at him, urging him to kiss him, kiss him, KISS HIM! I’m on the brink of discovery, I think. “If you’re uncomfortable, please tell me to stop,” Logan breathed, before Patton could do anything. “What? Why would I be uncom—?”

But what if I’m dreaming…? Patton didn’t get to finish his sentence as Logan’s lips met his, moving his hands to Patton’s cheeks. He felt his heart soar as he kissed back, closing his eyes and taking Logan’s face in his own hands as if it had always belonged there. He took in the moment, wanting to remember all of this, as he kissed the boy he loved at last. All of a sudden, Logan pushed him away and dashed out of the room as Patton felt his heart shatter.

Do I rewind, induce amnesia? Pretend I didn’t see her? Succumb to stupid fear? Or just believe in my heart? Patton just sat there, tears rolling down his face, in shock and in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. That kiss, that small handful of seconds, had felt more perfect, more right, than anything he had ever experienced. But Logan’s reaction… he had been the one to initiate it in the first place, so why did he panic like that? Was it because of Patton? Had he done something wrong? Was he that bad a kisser? When they’d kissed, Logan had seemed so sure in his actions. He had been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, so why did he run away? If it wasn’t Patton’s fault, then what other reason would there be? Patton sat there, pondering for a while. After what felt like an eternity, Logan returned. Patton looked up at him, and just seeing Logan’s expression made his heart ache. “Lo?” He cringed mentally at how pathetic he sounded. “I’m sorry, Patton. I don’t know what overtook me. Silly impulses, I’m sure. It would be best for both of us if we acted as if this never happened.” Patton blinked back the fresh tears that began to form in his eyes. “Do you not… like me that way? I thought that after what happened in the bathroom, I might actually have a shot with you. I guess not.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I do like you, Patton.” The other boy sat down beside him. “It’s just that the people at school… what will they do if they find out that I’m…?” He trailed off. Patton looked at him. Was that all he was worried about? A handful of other students judging him because he was attracted to men? Why play a part? Why follow the herd? Why not trust in my words? Don’t wanna go with the grain! Why try to make myself plain? I’m on the brink of rediscovery, I think. So what if I’m dreaming? I like the scene that I’m in! “Gay?” he finished for him. “Logan, please don’t start with that,” he pleaded. “Who cares what they think? It’s just high school.” “Yes, but high school leads to college, and college leads to graduate school, and graduate school leads to the rest of our careers.” Logan slumped his shoulders. “I have to be perfect if I want to achieve everything I want to do.” “Logan, no one is going to care who you do or don’t kiss in high school. It won’t affect your future at all, assuming that you and I…” He couldn’t bear the thought of it. “don’t see each other after high school.” They were silent again for a minute. Did Logan really care about his reputation that much? Patton hadn’t realized how important it was to him. More important than friendship or even romance, that he couldn’t tell.

And this girl is a part of this world. The thought of being normal’s far more scary. “No, I… I really do like you a lot, Pat. And if I could, I’d love to try dating you some day. But the others at school—” Patton let out an exasperated noise and leaned forward to kiss Logan again, this time only for a few moments. “Forget about the others at school for a second, Logan! Literally no one will care! Sure, people will spread gossip for a week, but then they’ll move on to some other thing. Think about what you want here, right now.”

I’ll be brave and I’ll be kind. I’ll make a choice and change my mind. I will mess up all the time. They’ll say I’m weird but I’ll be fine. He looked into Logan’s eyes, his exasperation giving way to fondness. “Why did you kiss me?” “Because I’ve wanted to for several years,” he replied without hesitation. “Okay. And do you want to kiss me again?” “Yes, very much so.” Patton forced himself to keep his voice steady as he said, “Then do it.” Logan didn’t argue; he simply leaned toward Patton and lightly pressed his lips to his. “Do you want to kiss me again?” Patton repeated once Logan pulled away, feeling confidence building up inside him. He nodded. “Do it, then.” Again, Logan obeyed, this time letting the kiss last a few seconds longer. Patton couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across his face. “Do you still care about what the others at school will say?” he asked. Logan didn’t answer with words this time. He instead surged forward and once again his lips met Patton’s. Instead of pulling back again, like Patton had expected, Logan held the kiss. Patton moved his tongue ever so gently against Logan’s teeth, and the other parted his lips for entry. Everything was perfect— in Patton’s eyes at least— and neither seemed to want to pull away. When they finally did, Patton found himself on top of Logan. He worried for a moment that Logan would try to pull away again, but he didn’t. “If you want me to stop kissing you, I will,” he told him, smiling softly. “But do you get my point now?” He nodded. “Screw the others.” He moved his hands to his cheeks. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter what they say.” Patton’s smile widened, nodding. Without either saying a word, Logan sat up and kissed him once again. I’ll be anything but ordinary!

[kuiinncedes]

HI JEANNE I AM SO GLAD UR DOING PROMPTS!!! can i prompt general #24 for quinntina with some kuinn friendship maybe pls???? 🥺🥺💞💗💞💗💞💗💞💗

hi rae thanks for prompting!!! <333

General 24 “I haven’t seen (her/him/them) smile in months.”

this got longggg 2796 ish words 👀 (i edited it after pasting into tumblr tho so idk exactly :P) i think this is the longest thing i’ve posted?? i hope it doesn’t suck <3

(also small mention of homophobic parent(s) (mostly quinn’s mom) and just not great parenting... also blood and death mention warning (but like just in conversation?))

i’m like weirdly nervous about this one sdlhgkjf *screams and hits post*

--

“What’s wrong with Tina?”

Kurt gives Quinn a sideways look, fixing his hair in the mirror on his locker. “Tina Cohen Chang? Why are you asking about her?”

Quinn shrugs, trying to play innocent and nonchalant. “I haven’t seen her smile in months.” Because since the beginning of the year, Tina always smiled at her as she walked into their first class and the only one they share, but now she doesn’t, if she even comes to class on time at all.

Kurt looks at her knowingly and Quinn pushes his arm lightly. “Shut up,” she grumbles. “I’m serious.”

“I’ve noticed it, too,” Kurt says after a moment, following Quinn’s gaze to Tina arriving at her locker. They watch as she hurriedly puts some books in her bag and quickly walks off again, head down and giving a wide berth to everyone she passes. 

“Yeah, and that,” Quinn says, “it’s like she’s… scared or something.” She looks at Kurt whose jaw has tightened. Quinn squeezes his arm lightly and he smiles a little at her. 

“I can ask Mercedes,” he says reluctantly as he shuts his locker and they start walking down the hall. “She’d know more than me, but… yeah, I don’t think she’s even been in glee lately.”

Quinn’s barely paying attention and almost runs into another student before Kurt pulls her out of the way. “You know, it’s a little creepy that you noticed this at all,” he teases, a glimmer in his eye, and Quinn elbows him and follows him into their next class.

-

Mercedes doesn’t give them any new information, and then Quinn -- Quinn wants to forget about it, but she can’t. She keeps stealing glances at Tina in the halls, during class, at lunch. She knows Kurt’s right, that it is a little creepy, but… 

They’ve been around each other’s circles since the beginning of high school, and a friendly wave from Tina one morning was the only thing keeping Quinn feeling normal when the least normal thing possible had happened to her the night before. She didn’t have Kurt yet, she barely had any friends because of her work to uphold her status as the ice-cold head Cheerio. Tina was kind to her when she was spiraling after her world had turned upside down and no one was around to support her, to turn it back around. 

So she just wants to know if Tina’s okay. Because of that. No other reason.

-

Quinn gets her chance a week later. 

She doesn’t expect to see Tina today -- she isn’t in English and hadn’t been for a few days. Quinn tries to ignore her growing concern; after all, she still doesn’t actually know anything about Tina’s life.

When Mrs. Harrison splits them off into groups of two for a new project, Quinn is last to pick her partner and everyone else has already paired off.

“Tina’s absent today, I’ll work with her,” Quinn says airily, playing with the end of her ponytail and tapping her pencil on the desk. She acts like she doesn’t care (why would Quinn Fabray have any reaction to getting paired with a relative social nobody for a project?) but part of her is… looking forward to it. Not only because of her persisting concern about what’s going on with Tina, but also because she does genuinely want to spend time with her. So maybe this is her chance.

She tells Kurt about it at his locker between classes and he rolls his eyes and smiles fondly at her. 

It’s the end of the day when Quinn realizes she doesn’t actually have Tina’s number to contact her; it’s too late to ask Kurt or Cedes, she stayed after school to retake a math test and she’s the only one here, as far as she knows.

Except she’s not. There’s another car in the student lot. Quinn glances at it and stops when she realizes someone is sitting in the driver’s seat -- Tina. Before she can talk herself out of it, Quinn walks over and taps on her window. 

Maybe she should’ve talked herself out of it, she thinks as Tina jumps and seems to steel herself before rolling down her window. Quinn smiles a little, apologetically. A wave of warm air comes from inside the car, like Tina’s been blasting the heat even in the relatively warm spring weather.

“Um, hey,” Quinn says awkwardly. “So… you weren’t in English today, but we’re doing a project and you and I are partners.” Her voice goes up at the end as if it’s a question. She’s really doubting this now. Tina looks like she’s sick and she’s gripping the steering wheel and not meeting Quinn’s eyes. “Or…” Quinn clears her throat slightly, putting her head Cheerio, most popular girl in school mask back on. “It’s fine if you don’t. Just tell Mrs. Harrison. I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” Tina says, looking up at her finally, and Quinn thinks there’s something different about her eye color. Her smile is tight and forced. “Sounds good.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “You sure? Doesn’t sound like it sounds good.”

Tina clenches her jaw. “Yeah, it’s good, sorry, I’m just tired,” she says in one breath. “Here, I’ll, um -- ” She fumbles with her phone and offers it to Quinn. “Put your number in, I’ll text you.”

Quinn’s fingers brush Tina’s when she takes the phone and she almost jumps at how cold her skin is, despite the warmth emanating from the car. Even Kurt, who runs cold, isn’t nearly this cold to Quinn’s own unnaturally warm body temperature…. Her concern grows and she watches Tina for another moment, who’s closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. 

“Are you… okay?” Quinn asks hesitantly.

“I’m fine.” 

“Forgive me for saying this? But you… don’t look fine.”

Tina gives her a sideways look. “Yeah, well.” She closes her eyes again.

Quinn enters her number but doesn’t give Tina’s phone back when she’s done. “Hey, seriously, I -- what’s wrong?”

Tina just exhales defeatedly. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Try me.”

She shakes her head.

“Your skin is fucking freezing, you have the heat on high in the car in almost 70-degree weather, you look different and not in a good way. I know -- I know we don’t talk much, Tina, but please, let me help you.” Quinn even surprises herself with the last part. It’s far from the hard facade she hides behind at school in her Cheerios uniform, even though she’s still wearing that right now. 

Tina stays still and silent and Quinn fidgets with her phone. 

“I really don’t know what to do here,” Tina says softly, opening her eyes, glancing at Quinn again then back away. “I literally… have no. Fucking. Clue.” It sounds like she’s talking to herself more than anything and Quinn isn’t sure how to respond.

“Well, I… whatever I can do -- ”

“Have you ever had something… absolutely, absolutely insane happen to you? Like… you would never believe it yourself but it happened to you and you have to fucking deal with it so you have to believe it.” Tina’s breaths come more quickly as she continues, her fists curling tighter around the steering wheel. “And I don’t know how to fucking deal with it, but I fucking have to because -- because I have to and I’m this thing now -- ”

“Hey, Tina, hey, breathe,” Quinn says hurriedly, trying to put a hand on her shoulder but the angle from outside the car window is awkward and she doesn’t know if it would be appreciated. Her mind spins with those words -- you have to believe it, I’m this thing now -- and it’s scarily similar to Quinn’s own thoughts when she first… turned, over three years ago.

But Tina can’t be a werewolf too, her skin… Quinn thinks. Thankfully Tina’s breathing has mostly gone back to normal and she just looks exhausted again, her forehead resting on the steering wheel and hands loose in her lap now. What the fuck. What the fuck am I about to do.

Despite all her instincts and rationale screaming at her not to do it, Quinn says shakily, “I think I get it,” and when Tina turns to look at her, she inhales and says in a whisper, so quiet she’s not sure if Tina can hear, “I’m a werewolf.”

Tina stares and Quinn starts thinking and thinking about how she can take it back, it was a joke, there’s obviously no such thing as werewolves, what the fuck was she saying, what was she thinking revealing this to a near stranger --

“I think… I think I’m technically a vampire.” 

Oh. Quinn stares back at her.

Some of the tension seems to have gone out of Tina’s body. There’s another silence. “Can I trust you?” Tina asks quietly.

“What -- ? I mean, yeah…” Quinn swallows. “Yes, you can. Of course. I think if there’s one person you could trust with this, it’s me.” 

Please trust me.

“Thank you,” Tina whispers, like she just has no energy to speak louder. “I just can’t think right now, I think I need… like, fucking blood, probably, I don’t know…” She looks down at her hands hopelessly. “I think I might be dying.” She laughs humorlessly. “Again, I guess.”

Quinn thinks for a moment, taking in the almost metallic pallor of Tina’s skin and the difference in her irises that she noticed earlier. “How long have you… been a vampire?” 

Is this the answer to what she’s been wondering about?

“A few months, I guess.” (There it is… Quinn wonders if anyone might have noticed something different in her for the months after her first night as a wolf.) “There was another vampire -- nicer than the one who bit me -- ” her voice goes hard and tight on bit -- “who gave me some blood for a while. But I don’t know where they are now. They said they never stayed in one place for a long time. So I guess I’m starving to death. I don’t know.”

“Can’t you, like, get blood… somewhere?”

“I can barely stand talking to you right now, to be honest,” Tina says. “I don’t think I could go near other people right now.”

Right. Quinn curses her complete lack of knowledge on vampires besides that from popular media, which probably doesn’t apply very well to this situation. This feels absolutely ridiculous, though she’s been through weirder herself… still. Her first full moon was a disaster and she doesn’t know how to deal with this either. But… 

“I might be able to help,” she says, standing up straighter and finally handing Tina’s phone back to her. Tina pauses before taking it, as if she forgot about it; Quinn has, too, for the most part. The project is definitely not a priority now. “I know absolutely nothing about vampires,” Quinn continues, “but I have my own needs as a werewolf. I know a place -- it’s where I hunt. Animals.”

Tina seems to wince at the words. Quinn vaguely remembers hearing about how Tina doesn’t eat meat, for the most part. She could probably avoid thinking about it when someone else was getting her blood, but this will be direct. This will be a change.

Quinn presses on. “You need blood. Everything in history about vampires says that -- they can’t all be wrong. Please let me help you.”

“Okay,” Tina says weakly, nodding a little. “Give me the address, or whatever -- ”

“I’m driving you. In this car. And staying with you.” Quinn doesn’t back down as Tina’s eyes snap to hers, and her mouth opens to protest. “Seriously. I’m helping you with this. And you’ll crash the car if you drive yourself.”

Her head falls back against the headrest. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted and dying, Fabray,” she grumbles. She gets out and goes around the front of the car into the passenger seat, and Quinn slides into the driver’s seat, putting her bag in the back. She instinctively reaches to turn down the heat, but remembers Tina’s freezing skin.

“You can turn it down,” Tina says. “I don’t even feel cold. I just wanted my skin to feel normal to other people, which clearly wasn’t working.” Quinn gives her a glance to make sure, but Tina is just leaned against the window, body slumped and tired. 

She turns it down just a little.

Then remembering something else Tina said earlier, Quinn asks warily, “Are you okay with me in the car right now? I know you said earlier you could barely stand it…”

Tina shrugs. “I mean, I have to be, don’t I?” Quinn doesn’t answer, and Tina looks over at her and chuckles a little. “Don’t worry, Fabray, I won’t kill you and drain your blood. Although it does sound… appetizing right now.”

“Haven’t you read Twilight? My blood tastes awful to vampires,” Quinn jokes, trying to lighten the mood as she pulls the car out of the school parking lot. 

“Is that really a thing?”

Quinn laughs lightly. “I think so, I don’t know. But that is something I’m thinking about when it comes to vampires, so I must’ve heard it somewhere.”

Tina hums. “I never read or watched Twilight. My parents wouldn’t let me; my mom said she thought Kristen Stewart seemed like a bitch.” She lets out a short laugh. “The irony.”

“Do your parents know?”

“No. Yours?”

“No.” It’s honestly too easy for Quinn to hide it from her mom and her mom’s boyfriend. They’re never home and when they are, they leave Quinn alone, which is fine by her, especially on full moons or random weird days when she needs to leave. She does whatever the fuck she wants; they don’t question it. She supposes there are worse ways to live, especially while being a werewolf.

“How am I supposed to tell them?” Tina asks, looking out the window. “I thought I’d have to worry about telling them I thought Kristen Stewart was hot, not that I had basically become her -- or, her character.”

“Well, you could lead with the first thing? Maybe that’ll make it a little easier to accept. Or you could lead with the second, and while they’re freaking out about that, just drop in that you like girls.”

“Ha ha.”

“It’s good advice, I just might follow it myself,” Quinn jokes.

“…You like girls?” Tina asks. “Or -- you don’t have to answer that, sorry -- ”

Quinn glances at her. “Yeah.” 

“Cool. Let me know how it goes, if you do follow that advice,” Tina teases lightly.

Quinn laughs harshly at the mere thought of coming out to her mom. She might’ve been able to come around about her teenage pregnancy, but Quinn doesn’t miss the tone her voice takes on when she asks about Kurt or when Quinn mentions him, when Quinn’s watching something on TV or reading a book, when she sees something in the news. 

“Well I’m not coming out anytime soon.”

“That’s fine,” Tina says, her voice soft and tired but sincere. 

“Kurt’s the only other person who knows, though, so… yeah, you know… trust thing.”

“Of course. Thanks for telling me.”

And Quinn does trust Tina, with this, with the werewolf thing… she’s wondering how Tina managed to win her trust so quickly... and friendship.

Hopefully, Tina trusts her enough for what they’re about to do.

“We’re here,” Quinn says, pulling into a dirt area surrounded by woods. She puts the car in park and hears Tina take a deep breath. She looks nervous and Quinn doesn’t need to imagine to have an idea of what’s going through her head right now. She takes one of her freezing hands in her own, holds it between them. “Tina. I’ll be here for you, okay? I’ll help you. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely not. Do you know anything about vampires hunting?”

“Is it so different from turning into a wolf and hunting?” Quinn jokes, then asks seriously, “Do you need a minute?”

“No.” Tina removes her hand to open the door and Quinn misses the contact, the… warmth, even from her cold skin. 

When she gets out of the car and comes up next to her, Tina shoots her a grateful smile -- small, but genuine. Something Quinn hasn’t seen in months. She’s missed it. 

(Shit, Kurt was right, she thinks, and if this is any indication, she won’t ever get tired of that smile.)

“Thank you, Quinn, for helping me with this.”

“Of course.”

Quinn’s hand suddenly finds itself in Tina’s again, and she can feel Tina’s hand shaking a little. Quinn gives her a small, reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go.”

***

small notes for after bc i didn’t want to “spoil” this before lol !!

this is in the werewolf!quinn / vampire!tina au i’ve written in before :) if u wanna check that out hehe here’s my fic tag :P 

this and this are the two that are most connected to this one tho if u want to read :3 especially the second one -- i think that’s kind of a continuation of this fic, or like the next scene i guess

no one really cares but i started out with this prompt thinking about a more canon s1 au where it was tina saying the prompt about quinn during her pregnancy but idk somehow it turned into this instead slfdkjkd

i really didn’t have many notes lmao that’s it thanks for reading if u did <3

[liquorisce]

... tell me i’m beautiful?

pairing: royai, roy mustang x riza hawkeye

fandom: Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood/Manga)

summary: on some nights Riza is delicate. and Roy is possessive. (warning: unhealthy amounts of pining.) (also havoc is a good friend) 3677 words.

a/n: i saw on my tumblr feed that it’s fma day (3.10) (the day when the greatest angst of our generation was born), and i was hit with major feels for full metal alchemist. it truly is one of the greatest stories of our generation. anyway, here is some old royai from my wip notes that i had to dust the cobwebs off of (that my anxious ass never had the balls to post). my writing style has changed over the years, but my heart is still so full for these two, so it was fun to rewrite.

The buzz around the Eastern Headquarters is that one of the Top ranks is getting hitched and that it’s going to be a fancy affair, traditional with a masquerade ball.

When Roy sees an invite in his post, he’s rather surprised. But the wedding is in Central and it’s an excuse to see his best friend, so it doesn’t seem so bad after all.

“Lieutenant,” he asks, just as she is about to leave for the day, “what’s all this I hear about a ball at the General’s wedding?”

“It seems we must be accompanied with a date, Sir. You received the invitation four weeks ago.” He detects some annoyance in her words, but he lets it pass, because his brain has begun to imagine Hawkeye in a dress, especially one of those grand, frilly ones.

“Then you will accompany me.”

It was acceptable, the way he states it like it’s the obvious course of action, because he is her superior after all. But it also ticks her off, that he expects it, without even bothering to ask. She may be his subordinate but there are times when she wishes he would just see her as a woman.

“That won’t be possible, Sir.”

She is just as shocked with her own coldness as he is, his eyebrows twitching in question.

“I’m afraid I’ve already promised Havoc I would go as his date.”

His eyes narrow and she sees a flicker of emotion awash in the dark of his eyes and she almost feels as if she’s done something wrong.

But she hasn’t, and she will not apologise. She clenches her fist. 

“Ah,” he drawls, not missing a beat, “have you decided what to wear yet?”

That wasn’t the question she was expecting and it throws her off balance.

“I,” she pauses for a moment, to regain her composure, “I haven’t thought about it yet.”

She doesn’t want to engage in his banter anymore, because there are feelings involved - mostly hers, and they are irrational, she thinks - and expectations, expectations that have no basis but are yet difficult to do away with. So she hastens to the door.

He’s quiet for a minute, but because he can’t help himself, he murmurs, “… You should wear green. It suits you." 

… 

She ends up wearing a dress, it’s slinky, tighter than the clothes she’s used to, slipping past her knees. Somehow she finds herself in heels, black strapped ones she’s borrowed from a friend that she clearly cannot walk in. It lacks the comfort of her boots but she deals with it, because apparently this is the price that comes along with looking pretty. 

The dress is borrowed too, but she doesn’t miss the fact that out of all the dresses Rebecca paraded as options, she reached for the dark green one. … Apparently it suited her. 

At least that is what she is assured of when Havoc comes to pick her up, his eyes popping in surprise when he sees her. 

"Wow,” he let’s out a loose whistle, “you clean up real good, don’t you?" 

She blushes and it’s another rare sight. "The Hawkeye blushing?” He teases, “I’ve got to be dreaming." 

They make their way to the wedding and Havoc dives headfirst to the bar. She isn’t surprised. She looks around, her eyes seeking whom she had stubbornly decided not to care about and she sees him with a woman - obviously - hanging onto his every word. 

An officer of sorts, she guesses, but not from their division, because Roy has unleashed his charm, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously. 

She averts her eyes to the bar and to her date, who despite his melancholy has ordered an extra drink for her, a cocktail which he swears is the best he’s ever had. The thought of alcohol seems far more appealing than watching her superior with yet another woman.

… 

"Did you want to dance, Lieutenant?" 

She’s a few drinks down, he’s had even more and his words are beginning to slur. 

"I’m sorry,” he says and he sounds genuinely remorseful. “I just… I can’t get her out of my head." 

She pats his head comfortingly and he slumps a little on the counter. "You loved her that much?" 

He nods gloomily and Riza pretends to ignore the glisten of his eyes. Havoc’s eyes rest on the newly married couple, a little envious of the ingenuity of their smiles. 

"You know, I actually thought we would make it there." 

He doesn’t have to say it but Riza knows he’s talking about the altar, of dreams of marriage that he harboured for his ex-girlfriend. He was painful to watch these past few weeks, ever since Rebecca ended things with him, and when he asked her to the wedding, she couldn’t help but agree. 

Besides, she had made sure Roy had seen the invitation days ago and if he hadn’t asked her by then, it was quite likely he never would. 

"I’m sure you’ll find someone else,” she says comfortingly. “Even we soldiers are allowed to be happy eventually.” She isn’t sure she believes it, but for someone as pure as Havoc, surely fate can be kinder.

He tries his best to put on a smile, nodding with the optimism in her words. “Well hopefully I find happiness before my hair turns grey,” he jokes, making her giggle. 

It feels nice, letting her hair down with a friend, even though she would rather let her hair and a lot of other things down with a certain someone else, but she tries not to think of it. 

When she turns, the smile is wiped clean off her face, because her gaze catches the eyes of that same someone else, eyes dark as night, hair even darker, swept back to show off the handsome angles of his face. He is with someone else, a pretty brunette with her back bare and his hand splayed on it, and they are moving to the music but his eyes are on her, intense, questioning… reprimanding her almost. 

For what? She thinks heatedly, he has no right to look at her like that, like he’s displeased with her, when she cannot even express just how unhappy she is with him. 

“But seriously, Lieutenant,” Havoc says, hesitating for a moment, but choosing honesty, “you look amazing tonight. I must be the envy of every man in here." 

She lets herself bask in his appreciative gaze and her cheeks heat up. "You really think so?" 

He nods, smiling at her. "You sound surprised. A woman like you must be used to such compliments, isn’t it?”

She laughs ruefully. Compliments? She couldn’t remember the last time a man had ever called her pretty. At least not since she entered the military. “You’re the first, Havoc." 

His mouth almost gaped open in surprise. 

She went on, her frustration further driven by the alcohol in her blood. "No one’s ever even asked me out,” she says, helplessly. “Sure, there had been a few men who seemed interested, but even they never tried to take things further." 

The Lieutenant didn’t date, everyone knew that. But listening to her open up about it, doubting herself, he felt for her. 

Because he was one of those men too, a long, long time ago. 

He remembers when he first joined the unit, newly assigned to Eastern, full of smiles. 

The place really was swarming with beautiful women, just as he had heard. He figured he would get on here just fine. 

And when he first entered the office of the Major Roy Mustang whom he was assigned to, he thought his heart was going to stop. 

He had never seen anyone like her, young, strong, leaning over the table and giving the Major a piece of her mind. She scolded him like she had the authority to, and he listened, even though there was a formal apology attached to her rant in the end. 

He was stunned, unable to do anything but watch when she turned around and stalked out of the room, because the view from the front was even better than behind, a round heart-shaped face framed in short blonde hair, deep brown eyes and a body that would make anyone’s thoughts stain the darkest shade of impurity. 

Life, of course, had very different plans for them, even though they got closer, just like he wished. One afternoon, Rebecca walked into the office and threw her arms around Riza, and Havoc soon learnt that love was far more nuanced than admiration at first sight.

"At first I thought it was the uniform,” she confesses, “I thought maybe I was just scaring the men away." 

You have no idea, he thinks, sighing. Riza Hawkeye was made of fire, and it turned men on even if they were afraid of being burnt by it.

"But my friend Jessica had absolutely no problem when it came to this sort of thing." 

She casts her eyes lower, twirling the remnants of her whiskey. "Maybe there’s just something wrong with me." 

Her lips lift up in a sardonic grin. "I’m a pretty pathetic Lieutenant, huh?” She rests her forehead against the counter. “I can’t believe I’m here at a wedding, crying over men.” Sighing, she murmurs, “I suppose these feelings are par for course when you have couples dancing all around you." 

He rests his hand over the back of her head, ruffling the softness of her locks. "It isn’t pathetic,” he murmurs comfortingly, “You’re only human, after all. We’re all just idiots who want nothing more than to be loved." 

He leaves out the part where he willingly offers himself up for the job, spurred a little by his already broken heart and embers of a decade-old attraction that never went away. He could make her feel special, take her out on all the dates she feels she missed out on, tell her she’s beautiful till she never doubts it ever again. It would be a selfish distraction, but Havoc is a romantic, and maybe, just maybe, it would lead them down a different path to happiness.

But he remembers what made him give up that mission in the first place, all those years ago, cold, blazing eyes that delivered a threat far worse than his words. 

"There will be no fraternisation within this unit,” he had stated calmly before even Havoc had gotten a chance to admit to it himself. “If I find out you’ve laid a hand on her, I will have you transferred out of Eastern before you know it." 

Back then he didn’t know if Major Roy Mustang even had that sort of power. But something else told him that if he didn’t listen it would be his burnt corpse they would be carrying out of Eastern. 

Even now Havoc knows it’s useless, that he cannot even comfort her the way he really wants to, because he knows his eyes are here, they don’t leave her, always watching from the corner, staking claim. 

"Thanks Havoc,” she says, trying for warm but still sounding miserable, lacing her fingers with his for a brief second in appreciation of his effort to make her feel better.

He sighs. “Would you mind if I went outside for a smoke?” They didn’t allow smoking in the ballroom, and his cravings had kicked in three drinks ago. 

“Sure,” she says, “I’ll come with you." 

He looks surprised because the Lieutenant has never approved of his smoking, but he thinks maybe she would prefer it to her own company tonight. 

But when she tries to stand it’s like the blood has drained from her head, and she falters. Gingerly, she rubs a hand to her forehead.

"On second thought, I think I’ll stay here.” She gets back onto her seat, “I’ve had too much to drink." 

"Will you be alright?” He asks, and it is more out of courtesy than anything else because he knows that if she isn’t, he will be by her side in seconds to take care of her. 

She assures him she’s fine, that a drink of water will make everything better, even though fine is far from what she feels. Having let out her feelings, she doesn’t feel the light headedness that most claim, just empty and dejected because it is more than just never being told she’s pretty or going out on dates. If only her sorrows were as commonplace as wishing for love. If only she didn’t desire a very specific love. A love she will never have. 

“Excuse me,” she mumbles to the waiter,“ could I have a glass of water please?" 

He hurries away to get it and she rests her head against the counter. As she closes her eyes, she wonders how they do it, all those women he talks to, all the willing females he engages with. Is it all the giggling? 

Does Roy like it if his women show a lot of skin? She remembers the woman from earlier, pale pink fabric shimmering off her dainty frame. Or maybe he likes the petite ones. 

She sighs dejectedly. At 5'5”, she had curves that filled out every inch of her uniform and a full chest that had been a major cause of discomfort during military school. She was anything but petite. 

In the end what bothers her most is that it probably doesn’t matter if she isn’t skinny or she doesn’t wear clothes that dip to the small of her back. Military rules state they couldn’t be together and it seems Roy wasn’t the least bit tempted to break them. 

.. 

“I’m afraid all the dancing has made my head spin,” he tells her. “It was really lovely to have the pleasure of your company…” He pauses at the end, awkward because he just spent the last 40 minutes dancing her in circles but he can’t, for the love of God, remember her name. 

“It’s Elizabeth,” she purrs, laughing, “You’re just like the rumours say, Colonel! So terrible with names." 

She comes closer, her breath damp on the shell of his ear, "And so incredibly handsome." 

"I’m flattered,” he says, untangling himself from her, smiling the way he knows is probably misleading, but in this situation it’s polite. 

He can’t quite explain it but he is struck by this inexplicable urge to see his own Elizabeth, a sharp contrast to this one’s dark hair and light eyes, her beauty stemming from self-respect that is sorely lacking in most of the women that threw themselves at him.

He can’t pretend that he’s a saint and that there haven’t been a few that have followed him into bed, but there is nothing more than frustration at play here, a compromise of sorts where he can make believe that the girl in front of him is one with pale hair that shimmers and eyes that would always show him the light. 

Where he can dream that the lips he kisses are the same bow shaped ones that admonish him at work.  

Looking over at the bar counter, he sees that she’s still there, this time with Havoc nowhere to be seen. There’s a small, selfish part of him that rejoices in this fact, because their intimacy and hand-holding had him seeing red a little while ago. 

It isn’t fair that he wants her like this, so irrationally and so selfishly, he knows it, but he can’t stop himself from this desire and he knows it often scares men away from her.

He knows there have been times when he has deliberately scared men off of her. He wonders how she would react if she learns of it. Would she have preferred their affections?

When he comes closer he sees that her head is resting on the counter, eyes closed. “Lieutenant,” he calls, but she doesn’t stir. Roy is known to be a little paranoid when it comes to his aide and the tension creeps onto his face, furrowing it’s way between his eyebrows. 

He tries calling her again, this time placing his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently. Her head turns to the side and he can see that her mouth is parted slightly and her breaths are even. 

Has she… Passed out?! Laughing to himself, he occupies the seat beside her, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. He could happily stay like this forever, wrapped up in the softness of her hair and skin, watching her without interruption as she sleeps. There’s a mole just under her ear, a tiny black little thing and he wonders if he could reach down and kiss it. It would be quick, no one would ever know it. 

He could press his lips to her skin, touch his tongue to her earlobe, take it between his teeth maybe, the way he’s always wanted to when they are alone in his office and he is tempted to misuse his rank. 

He gives in to this sweet compulsion and bends down, lips pressing ever so lightly against the mark. 

She smells sweet, of the lavender she’s been partial to ever since she was a teenager, wrapped in this very same fragrance when she would finish her shower. 

Roy knows this because every time she would be anywhere nearby his attention as an apprentice would falter, often earning him rebukes from her father. 

He had promised himself just one, but it’s a promise ill-kept because his lips inch further along her jawline, featherlight brushes of temptation going against everything he has worked for. 

But what good is his ambition when all it brings him is turmoil, and this cruel deprivation of her? When all he feels every day when he looks at her is longing, immense and painful, to the point of desperation. 

Reason loses it’s shine further when he can feel her pulse flutter, and the softest murmur of his name brushes his ear. 

“Roy,” she mumbles and it’s so maddening, the effect his name on her lips has, he considers giving her orders to never address him Colonel ever again, “I wore green. Just like you told me to.”

His eyes widen, remembering the day he’d asked her to accompany him. She had this look in her eyes, disappointment, frustration - or was it disgust - and he dared to hope she’d go with it anyway, but she didn’t. And the feeling of rejection, of being rejected by Riza, isn’t one he can shake so easily. 

“What?” She had asked confused, when the statement he hadn’t intended to say out loud - he liked her in green, and that was something he kept secret, it brought out her eyes - had clearly been heard. “It suits you,” he’d said simply, and her temper had flared. Narrowing her eyes, she had said, “What I choose to wear is none of your business, Sir." 

She’d emphasized the last word with as much sarcasm as one could possibly fit into one syllable. 

He had laughed that day… a frustrated laugh, but now seeing that she actually listened to him, he thinks maybe what he thought mattered much more than what she let on. 

"I even wore heels,” she whispers, still drunk, slurring the s’s. 

“You did,” he says slowly, because he noticed, just like he notices everything, the way it made her legs look endless, the way it made her hips sway when she walked in with Havoc. He runs an idle finger across her cheek. 

“Do I look pretty, Colonel?" 

When she speaks these words, he hears the uncertainty behind the pink lips that she licks, barely inches from his. 

He could tell her that yes, she’s pretty, but he’d rather show her. With kisses sweeping all over her body, and caresses earning soft sighs from her full mouth. 

He could. 

And he almost does. 

He almost kisses her, full on the mouth, tongue flicking across hers, telling her that pretty is an understatement and that the first time he saw her, he was already mesmerised. 

But he is mindful of their surroundings, not wanting to cause her any further disrespect by acting out the increasingly lewd fantasies churning in his mind. Because he doubts a kiss would stay just that, a kiss and nothing more, not when it is Riza underneath him, lips pliant and sweet, testing his restraint. 

"Havoc,” he says harshly when he comes to realise the looming figure behind him, keeping his distance but well within hearing radius. “Take her home." 

He’s surprised at first, because he was sure he had witnessed something deeper, more intimate between those two tonight. Havoc had seen the Colonel flush, and stroke her skin tenderly, the Lieutenant’s eyes dazed and gazing at him with blatant desire. 

"Sir, sh-shouldn’t you?” He stutters, clearly asking something inappropriate and out of turn but he can’t help it. There is no one in the entire hall who could have missed the palpable chemistry between the two of them. 

But he doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head, his eyes dark and stormy, and tells him to make sure she has a glass of water before she’s put to bed. 

When Havoc walks her out, one hand around her waist and the other firmly holding her arm around his shoulder he realises that he’s a bit irritated with this years-old game of hide-and-seek. His broken heart was urging him to slap some sense into the Colonel and yell, because people who’ve found love - the real kind - have no business denying it. 

“I think it should be fairly clear by now why you so rarely get propositioned by men,” he says dryly. 

She makes a noise, questioning, barely able to take in his sarcasm or even his words for that matter, as her eyes droop shut. 

He takes in the rare sight of a defenseless Hawkeye clinging to his arm and his mouth turns up with the hint of a smile. 

“… It isn’t that no one’s interested,” he whispers, “just that everybody knows they wouldn’t stand a chance. Not against him.” 

- fin - 

[itwillbeall-dwight]

hi king,,, i saw u take drabble requests and i humbly ask for some fluff ft. the grandpas (overconti) if that's something u feel like doing. there's not enough ace fluff out there ;w;

me staring at this ask since last night like surprised pikachu.. tumblr user dweetwise give me ur autograph-

you are absolutely right, and it’s a crime that I haven’t made any content yet. this was more hurt/comfort than fluff, but there’s some cute in there, just for you <3 i rlly hope u enjoy this, it was a lot of fun to write!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

~

lovesick - ace visconti/bill overbeck; canon typical violence; tiny emeto tw; 2908 words

Preview: The two of them walked out of the basement side by side, Ace taking the lead to make sure the coast was clear before they left, taking the exit closest to them through the hole in the wall, heading towards a corner where a generator remained half-power, mechanisms slowly chugging from the inside. The soldier nodded to him, quickly taking over the lead and taking the long side over and leaving Ace to take one of the shorter sides, with the wires exposed. "Hey, Ace?" “Hm?” Ace looked up at the sound of his own name, odd coming from Bill, even now. “...Thanks.” “What for?” “Wh- what do you think?” “Oh, I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.” Bill scowled, though only momentarily, the shit-eating grin on the gambler’s face was enough to make him crack into a brief chuckle, even if it did make him a little (read: a lot) more punchable, before resuming work on the generator.

Ace was not the overtly romantic type.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had the charisma to back him up, a backlog of dirty euphemisms and sultry compliments for him to cruise off of when spoken in a low whisper at the poker table, but that was only enough to get him one night of fun, maybe two if he pushed his luck (which he did, quite often). He was plastic flowers and Las Vegas weddings - the fake kind of love that you could easily replace once it got broken. And for a while, he was fine with that. At the craps table, you couldn’t count on a forever, so going from lover to lover was a fate he’d more than settled with. Hell, even if his engagement only lasted a few months (the man had some sense, at least - the last Ace heard he’d gotten hitched with another man much richer and happier up in Illinois), it made for one hell of a lie to cover his bluff for a losing hand.

Romance hadn’t been something he’d thought about a lot, in the fog. There were more important things to think about, weren’t there - whether it was those cocky kids from the Legion wanting to go for a swipe or the bony form of the Hag slashing at his heels, his main focus was on escaping first, and testing his luck second. That didn’t change, for a while. Or at least, didn’t change enough for him to notice, until, like an unstable cliffside, everything caved in and he realised just how much shit he was in. It was a gradual process, not like how he’d rush things from the casino floor to the bedroom day in and day out for years at a time, knowing that it was likely to be his only chance before they moved onto someone new and better.

Ace didn’t know why it was him. Bill was a hardass, a stickler for the rules, a self-sacrificing hardass who could just say was way too high up on his horse and leave it at that. And normally, he would. But this time… he didn’t. He watched the old soldier with intrigue, with the way he commanded the room despite them being in the forest, his biting wit and genuine strategy enough to straighten the backs of even Nea and David, and that was a task worse than freezing hell over. He would listen to the words he used, insults peppered in like salt to a cheap takeaway meal, half drunk and lost in the belly of the Californian night, how his brow furrowed and how his eyes flickered with intent between survivors, and how his lips quirked and moved as he talked, or didn’t talk. All these little details finally came to a head when he’d began noticing how his words would bounce off of him like glue to rubber, unfazed mostly - though one time, he got a laugh out of him, while making a joke about David’s recklessness as the two offered their assistance in patching him up behind a rock (“takes an idiot to know one, Visconti”, he’d said). And that small chuckle was all it took for Ace to realise he was in deep, deep shit.

While luck had always been on his side, courage had not. Ace had let his feelings sit for a long time, trial after trial, not sure whether to be grateful that he was finally yearning for attachment or cursing the heavens that it had to happen here, of all places, enough to the point where avoiding Bill had become as natural as breathing air. Wasn’t anywhere to run eventually, though, as a terrible trial in the Autohaven Wreckers, where generators remained powered down and Micheal patrolled in his usual, methodical way, had left the two of them the only ones left alive. Hiding behind a wall, they had been silent for a while, before the old soldier had pressed him about his odd behaviour, calling him out to the very centre of it. And for the first time in a long time, Ace didn’t have a retort - there was no shitty movie quote, no stupid joke he could bounce off of - leaving him stumbling and hanging slack-jawed as his face grew hot and he rubbed the back of his neck, enough to make Bill growl and start to stand to his feet, ready to take the fall as he’d done so many times. But as if on instinct, Ace had grabbed his wrist and pulled himself to his feet, asking him to take a chance, just this once. Bill had chastised him as he normally did, pulling his arm away as he did so. And Ace had swallowed hard and looked him head-on, letting his eyes fall on every feature of his face, before grabbing the old fool by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a long-overdue kiss that seemed to last too long but not long enough, hoping that that was enough of a message to say that he’d trade his life for Bill’s in a heartbeat. He did, evidently, meeting his end at the hand of a knife in his lungs, but behind tinted glasses where he quickly lost vision, he’d seen Bill running for the hatch, glaring daggers at him as Ace could only smile, and die. Words were said at the campfire when he got back, but the message had been sent, loud and clear, earning him another kiss back when the two were, pinned against a tree with the glow of the campfire on his back, an answer to the silent question that he had posed for if it was really okay to do this. And it was. 

It had been a good while since that moment, though Ace played it in his head over and over as if it was some crazy dream that he was getting to live in. Things hadn’t really changed between them - he was still just as stupid, if not more so, trying to impress the man who made the mistake of liking him back, and Bill was still as much of a hardass - but there were moments now that made every injury, every lost chase and terrible mistake, and every death, so much more worth it. The soldier shared with him small smiles, laughs and jokes and tales of old friends, his doubts and his anguish, but most of all, showed him a side of himself that wasn’t as harsh, a side of himself that was vulnerable, and kind - a bleeding heart, as it were, and that was the side where their hands interlocked walking back from the campfire, where they’d joke and slow dance and laugh like normal lovers did, out on the edge of the campfire. They had each other’s back, and out here, that’s what they needed most. 

Another trial was underway now, as one always was, and the forest of the Macmillan Estate was cold as it always had been, especially around the old ironworks. The atmosphere in the old factory giving off ice cold vibes of unhappiness and solitude. Ace felt a shiver run its icy fingers up his spine from under his shirt, pulling his hands away from the generator for a moment as his head twitched a little from the moment, recovering quickly with a quiet sigh before he got back to work. The trial had been rather relaxed, as of now; one generator was already powered (he’d watched Dwight and Nea work on that together, which was like seeing snow in July, as far as he was concerned) and he’d only heard a few yells of pain after that as he was searching around the factory through chests for a key (no luck this time) before hoping down again. Over the sound of the mechanisms powering up like a beating heart, the fountain behind him flowed, the sound of pure water almost calming, if not for the sign that the Plague was roaming around.

Two wires he was holding sparked together, and that was enough to get the generator to flicker on. Perfect. Ace stood to his feet and took off his hat for a moment, scratching the top of his head before he put it back on again, as if it would help him figure out his next move. As if just going for a stroll (the poor priestess was making this trial seem like a cakewalk, after all), he slid his hands into his pockets, beginning to head out of the factory-

Running towards him made him step back inside, pinning his back against the wall near the door, his heart lurching into his mouth. From out of the corner of the doorway, he saw Bill sprinting past, the tall form of the Plague not too far behind. Ace smiled despite himself, though that soon faded as he heard the gagging coming from the woman, before she swallowed down her own vomit as the soldier turned a corner, and then subsequently hit her with a palette as she tried to follow after him. 

With the threat gone, though that wasn’t as reassuring as it ought to have been, knowing it wasn’t far behind the man he loved - Bill was capable enough, though, so there wasn’t much to worry about, was there? Right? - Ace moved away from the wall and sighed. Better to head in the opposite direction of the scary lady with the sacrificial censor and the terrible disease. But as he started to make his way towards the hole in the wall under the stairs, his eyes fell onto another set of stairs that were all too familiar. The whispers of the basement were calling for him. Ace swallowed, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. ...Bill had this, right? And if not, Nea and Dwight would have his back, surely. It was fine for him to dig around for another key, right? He looked around. No one was here to tell him not to, so the only other choice…

He descended the basement stairs carefully, a hand running along the rotting and misshapen planks of the old wooden wall the didn’t fit with the rest of the factory at all, as if it had been stolen and shifted from another building entirely. Those whispers of death were louder now, as he turned a corner and saw it, the chest at the back. Ace rubbed his hands together, hoping to channel some sort of magic to get this thing to open up. The gambler got down on one knee, picking at the lock of the chest while grumbling and talking to himself, praying for a key, or a flashlight to toss to the feisty young Swede if he saw her again. It didn’t take long to open, though nothing was waiting for him inside but a crusty old medkit. Ace stood up again with a frown, cursing Lady Luck for turning her back on him-

Heavy hands hitting the wall of the killer shack startled him, heart in his mouth. The Plague was probably already mad enough with how things had been going, he didn’t need to be spotted hiding out in the basement to make matters worse. Scrambling to his feet, the gambler lept for the locker just behind him, and clambered inside, hoping not to alert the tall, diseased woman that he was an easy target. But instead of sickly breaths and the sound of bare feet on concrete, the stumbling, heavy footsteps down the stairs and strained, pained breathing were enough to get him to poke his head out-

“Oh, shit- Bill!” 

The panicked whisper made the soldier look up, watching as Ace climbed out of the locker, leaving the doors to close on their own as he jogged over. Bill gritted his teeth, knuckles white as he clung to the edge of the wall beside the stairs with one hand, the other clutching his stomach. “Dammit, Visconti, what’re you doin’-”

“Don’t matter. C’mere.”

“No- get off me, dammit.” He tried to swat the gambler away, but lost his balance as he did and slipped from under his feet, yelling quietly as Ace rushed to grab him and help him stand, his hand grabbing hard at the side Bill was holding.

“Ah, shit- sorry, babe. Come on, there’s a medkit over here-”

“Oh, of course you were fuckin’ around in here-”

“You want the help or not?”

Bill paused, about to open his mouth again before catching the look on Ace’s face, an oddly solemn frown that seemed out of place, before sighing in resignation, if only to see the small smirk that overtook the other man as he led him over to the chest, letting him lean against the locker and slide down to sit.

“You’ll thank me later, trust me.”

“Just get it done.”

Ace nodded, taking the medkit out of the chest and opening it up, fishing through what little supplies were in there to try and help, hands shaking ever so slightly. For as long as the two of them had been here, you’d think he’d be used to this by now - but he was as cowardly at heart as always, it seemed.

He wasn’t an expert medic, but in the fog, you had to adapt fast, so Ace had picked up a few things from watching Claudette patch people up (and watch Nea complain about how wrong it was, but even he would doubt her judgement in that department), enough that he thought he was doing a pretty good job as he slowly wrapped the gauze around Bill’s torso, watching at the heavy bruising was slowly covered, and listening for a wince of pain every so often to tell him he was doing it a little too tight. Ace glanced up to him as his glasses fell down his face from looking down, just catching the soft expression he was giving before he grumbled and look away, making the gambler chuckle to himself as he finished tying off the gauze, moving his hand to gently hold his shoulder.

“She get you up there?”

Bill looked back again, an eyebrow raised.

“Vomit Queen up there. You caught anythin’?”

“Oh, hell no. Saw Karlsson instead, went after her ass. Considerin’ the run around she’s been givin’ her, ain’t surprised.” He paused, trying to push himself up now. “I gotta help her-”

“Aht, aht. Down, boy.” Ace put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down to sit. “C’mon, Bill, she’ll look at you funny and you’ll go down if you go up there again, ‘Sides, Nea ain’t a damsel. A few more minutes, yeah?”

“And Dwight?”

“He’s no idiot either. He’s our leader for a reason.”

He stared, before looking away again.

“We’ve talked about this, Bill. I know you gotta stick your neck out for everyone else, but you can only go so far.”

He didn’t say anything else, but from the way he tapped his fingers against the concrete floor, he wasn’t happy about it.

“There… no worries, you old coot, I got you.” Ace laughed as he got a punch to the chest, moving to hold a hand where the impact had been made, expression going soft as Bill laughed too, albeit it was quieter. He stood to his feet and wiped the dust and blood off of his knees where he’d been kneeling before offering the soldier a hand, which he took, helping him stand to his feet with only minor wobbling. "You good?"

"Yeah... yeah. Just... give me a second."

"Take all the time you need."

The soldier kept his grip tight in Ace's hand, sighing to himself before he went to move his hand away.

Though Ace kept his grip, if only to bring the hand up to his lips and gently kissed Bill’s knuckles, skin old and weathered on his lips, before pulling away and running his thumb across them. “Now come on. We've got a trial to finish."

The two of them walked out of the basement side by side, Ace taking the lead to make sure the coast was clear before they left, taking the exit closest to them through the hole in the wall, heading towards a corner where a generator remained half-power, mechanisms slowly chugging from the inside. The soldier nodded to him, quickly taking over the lead and taking the long side over and leaving Ace to take one of the shorter sides, with the wires exposed.

"Hey, Ace?"

“Hm?” Ace looked up at the sound of his own name, odd coming from Bill, even now.

“...Thanks.”

“What for?”

“Wh- what do you think?”

“Oh, I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

Bill scowled, though only momentarily, the shit-eating grin on the gambler’s face was enough to make him crack into a brief chuckle, even if it did make him a little (read: a lot) more punchable, before resuming work on the generator.

They got out of that game alive, thankfully, Bill saving Dwight from a last-minute hook and the two of them shielding him on their way out. As the two younger survivors rushed on ahead to give their friends the good news, Ace and Bill hung behind, strolling back hand in hand. It wasn’t an ideal world, but it was theirs, and having each other was a hell of a lot better than not.

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Delicate

Leo X Reader (High School AU)

Summary: Senior year and here you are, ready to just get through it with no mishaps. It was not going to be anything like last year. You swore it to yourself... But a certain blue eyed guy seems to be derailing that plan.

Summary: Who’s ready for another High school AU? Because I am!! Not quite the same universe as my other one (but let’s see what I can do and maybe that’ll happen) but this time with Leo. I was going to write something angsty, but then this happened so.... I love you all and let me know what you think!!

Tags: @brightlotusmoon​ @boatloadsofheart @legandarybeauty​​ @crazywritingbug​​ @bitch-kms @ravn-87 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011​​ @unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox @ilikestuffproductions​ @whygz​ @coffee-addicti​​ @sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies @fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan​ @big-banging-red​ @iceprincess2019​ @raphaeladdict​ @thirstyforvenom​ @merindagriese​ @depressedemo-152​ @bengewatch @corabmarie​ @bitemebro522​ @tmnt-queen​ @muleka-loka​ @violet-sky-96​ @curadopordeus​ @artemismohr18​ @thewhisperpen​ @xjupitermoonsx​ @bisexualbumblebeesstuff​ @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3​ @dixonreedusfangirlforever 

I saw him in the halls all the time. We were almost in the same sphere of friends. Except that I kept myself away from people like him. The partiers, the drinkers, the “popular.” Sure, if I tried, I could get into the circle, but I didn’t want to be like that. Ever. I knew who I was, and I was okay with that.

Not that I hadn’t tried. My entire junior year looked like the movie Mean Girls and I was Cady. It was exhausting trying to keep up with who hated who and who was friends with who. I had better use of my time, and emotional quota.

Still, some part of me wanted to think that he was different. Now that it had been a few years since the Mutant Act was introduced, Leo and his brothers had no problem finding their place in our school clicks.

He was a football player, the quarterback. He had every cheerleader talking about him and every college looking at him.

Not that I was looking or talking about him. No. Of course not.

We had Chemistry together. The class not... We were lab partners, that was it. Got it? 

Good. Because my heart didn’t.

First hour chem, bright and early at seven thirty in the morning. What a joy. I took my seat at about seven ten and scrolled through my Tumblr notifications, answering what I could. He sat down next to me at about seven fifteen.

Taking out a binder that wasn’t for this class—not that I was nosey, but I knew what Shakespeare looked like okay?—He skimmed through a few pages and tried to underline, hesitating to write.

“Engle?” I asked softly, looking up from my phone. “I think I have him an hour before you,” I offered a small smile.

“Yeah,” He nodded and sighed. “Why of all things would he choose Macbeth?” Leo muttered.

“He’s a Harry Potter fan. It’s in there. So, he probably likes the familiarity.” I shrugged. “And there’s a lot of good symbolism and stuff in it to write about.”

“You actually understand this?” He looked at me shocked.

I let out a small laugh and looked down quickly, trying not to blush. 

“Most of the time,” I admitted.

Bri perched at the edge of our table and quickly captured his attention, talking about the game Friday. I sighed internally and took out my stuff for class. Class droned on, covalent bonding... real riveting stuff.

All the while I watched as Leo tried to do both, chemistry and English work as he tried to decipher both codes. Deciding that I had no control over my heart anymore, I took out my other binder—my English binder—and slipped out my “No Fear Shakespeare” Macbeth book from the pocket and slid it over to him with a soft smile before giving my attention back to the teacher.

“Thanks,” He offered it back to me at the end of class.

“Keep it, I’ve read it enough times.” I hugged my binder to my chest. “And I think you need it more than I do,”

He let out a little sheepish laugh and looked down. “Yeah, probably. Thanks Y/n,”

“Anytime,”

I watched him walk away and sighed.

“You like him,” Megan nudged my shoulder, grinning—she was a sorta friend of mine. We had done a few projects together—I gave her a shrug.

Maybe I did. But maybe I didn’t want to admit it. 

“I can set you two up,” She smirked.

“No, God no, I’m not like that anymore Megs, you know that. That... that part of me is gone.” I shook my head as we walked to second hour together—Engle.

___________________________

Leo stared at the book in his hands. Your notes were all over it and there were so many little tabs and dog eared pages. He couldn’t quite figure out your system, but there had to be some importance for what you highlighted or marked.

And then there was the matter of why you had given it to him in the first place. You were smart, he knew that. You blew past him in every class and he had no idea how. Your homework was always done, and your essays were always exemplified. And you had given him this book. Your holy grail of Shakespeare notes. And you told him to keep it.

He knew who you were, last year you hung out with him and his—your—friends, but this year, something changed. It was like you removed yourself all together form his group. He hadn’t heard any drama that went down, or fights... you just sort of fell out.

“Who’d you pay for that?” Raph joked, nodding to the book. “Or did you steal it form some nerd?”

“It’s Y/n’s.” Leo narrowed his eyes at his brother, “She gave it to me.”

“You still like her then?” Raph raised an eyebrow.

“No,” He shot down quickly, then sighed, “It’s complicated... over the summer. I don’t know what happened. We just don’t talk anymore.”

“Well, have you made an effort to talk to her?” Raph mused. “I know you act like some bigshot athlete, but you are still my brother, fearless. You’re not fooling anyone, and I don’t think you’re fooling her either.”

“How could she possibly know anything?” Leo muttered.

“She’s a smart kid. Weird at time sure, but she did something I have to give her credit for.”

“What?”

“She stopped pretending.”

____________________________

My phone buzzed as I was combing through my math homework—curse you, derivatives. I picked it up and saw that it was a snap message from Leo.

Cursing Megan internally, I opened it. 

—Leo: thanks for the book :)

I stared at the message, trying to figure out if Megan had talked to him or not. But if Megan knew, so did the whole cheer squad probably. I didn’t think that Leo did though.

—Y/n: sure

There, totally casual.

—Leo: I think engle thinks I’m cheating because I suddenly got good at understanding macbeth

I chuckled at that and shook my head. Yeah, that would be Engle. Maybe I would talk to him about it.

—Y/n: He would

See? Still casual. No reason for alarm. It was almost easier talking to him like this. There were no expectations, no one was watching. It just...was.

—Leo: you going to the game Friday?

 Okay, so maybe not.

—Y/n: I dunno, not really my scene. 

—Leo: You used to go all the time last year

—Y/n: Things change...

—Leo: It wasn’t something that I did was it?

I stared at the letters, trying to make sense of what they meant. Well I knew what they meant; I just didn’t know where they came from. Why would he think that he was the problem? We barely talked at all least year. Maybe a streak here and there on snapchat... but nothing...

—Y/n: Why would you have done something?

—Y/n: It’s fine, I just stopped trying to impress people whose opinions didn’t matter

—Y/n: Not that your opinion doesn’t matter to me

I quickly added that.

—Leo: oh

—Leo: okay

What was I supposed to make of that? I groaned and rubbed my face.

—Y/n: I promise that it wasn’t anything that you did

—Y/n: I was just tired of living up to other people’s expectations

—Y/n: So, I stopped

He didn’t respond for a few minutes, so I put down my phone and started to read the next equation, when my phone buzzed again. It was him.

—Leo: It’s not the same without you around

Okay, what the hell was that supposed to mean? How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? My heart was elated that he had said something like that, but I didn’t want to hope that he had missed me. There had to be something that I was missing. Maybe this was a set up...

—Y/n: I’m still here

There. Nonchalant. I set down my phone and ignored it when it buzzed again, determined to finish my homework before midnight.

The notification wasn’t him. It was just an email.

 ________________________

Leo walked into class the next morning and found you sitting there. Not like you hadn’t been there before him every morning of class. But it seemed different, though you remained the same.

He sat down next to you, almost nervous, and not knowing why. 

“Morning,” He offered.

“Hi,” You looked up and smiled.

He could see that something hid behind your smile, but he didn’t know what. He wanted to know. It dawned on him that maybe he never really knew you at all last year. Just a persona, like you knew his mask.

_______________________

“Do you like Harry Potter then?” He asked, almost hesitant.

Confusion flitted across my face as I looked up at him, turning off my phone. He continued.

“You mentioned it yesterday. You knew that Macbeth was used in Harry Potter...”

I smiled as he connected the dots for me.

“Uh, don’t tell anyone, because someone will be out for blood. But no, not really. I haven’t read them... and I’ve barely seen the movies,” I admitted, embarrassed.

“Really?” Genuine surprise lit up his face. “God, Donnie would have a heart attack. He and Mikey are so into it. It’s hard to go without one of them mentioning or referencing something,” He sounded annoyed, but with endearment.

I laughed, knowing what that was like.

“Yeah, I’m... I know a lot of fandoms... but never go into Harry Potter. I’ve tried, believe me, but,” I shrugged. “I think I missed the right time in my life to read them ya know?” My eyes met smiling blue ones as he nodded.

“So what fandoms are you into?”

“Oh, we don’t have enough time for that,” I laughed as the bell rang.

“Who knew miss popular over here was such a nerd,” He teased as the teacher started the class.

.

.

Like my stuff? Here’s my masterlist!

[crimefightingspiderguy]

kiss me

Part IV to the series, i want you to want me.

Summary: An accidental kiss can lead to some confusing times.

Warnings: I guess spoilers for Spider-Man: Homecoming? But if you haven’t seen that yet, get to it, hop along.

Pairings: Peter Parker x best friend!reader

Word count: 1,580

A/N: I hope you enjoy the finale to this mini series!

Peter and you parted ways as he made his way to go do his Spider-Man patrol, and you headed home. It wasn’t until you’d gotten home that you realized that you never brought your chemistry textbook back from Peter’s when you studied at his house last week. The two of you usually shared his copy in class, since he kept it in his locker, and your copy at home, making it easier than having to lug unnecessary weight back and forth. You let your dad know you’d be heading to Peter’s so you could get your book back, and you were on your way. You were sure Peter wasn’t back yet, but it was getting close to dinner, so it should be soon. Regardless, aunt May would let you in no question. When you got there, you could smell something burning, and you knew that aunt May was attempting a new recipe. You knocked on the door, and waited, she quickly opened it and greeted you on the other side. 

“(Y/N)! To what do I owe the pleasure? It can’t be Peter, he’s out at his Stark internship.”

“May, I smelt your cooking all the way back at my place, and I came as quick as I could to make sure I was the first to get to taste the delicacy.” She rolled her eyes at you, and motioned for you to come in. 

“I’m trying a new recipe, but clearly it’s not working out because it smells awful. But maybe, that’s what it’s supposed to smell like!” 

“I’m sure that’s the problem!” You agreed enthusiastically, then quickly turned to hide your wide eyes and face of disgust at the smell. “I’m just here to grab my book real quick, I left it here last week and need it for the homework.” You began heading towards Peter’s room. 

“Sounds good, but don’t be spooked if Peter randomly comes through the window, he’s been coming up the fire escape after his internship because he’s embarrassed about the uniform Stark is making him wear.” She chuckled.

“I bet it’s a real show stopper” You smirked.

You began searching in Peter’s desk for your textbook. You had your back turned to the window, so you hadn’t even noticed when Peter opened the window. He was crawling on the ceiling, and slowly shut the door. This caught your attention, and you looked around. He jumped down behind you, landing on his desk. 

“Boo”. He whispered in your ear. 

“Jesus Christ Peter!” You turn around and smack his arm.

“I see you’re still easily spooked.” He smirked as he climbed off the desk.

“It’s been a day since you scared me last, of course I’m still jumpy!” You laughed. “Anyway, before I have a heart attack, do you know where my Chemistry textbook is?” 

“Oh yeah, I was reading it and fell asleep so it’s under my bed. I’m gonna change really quick, before May catches me.” You nod and make your way over to the bed, get on the floor and grab your book from below. Just then, the smoke alarm went off and you heard aunt May curse as she pulled a chair over to it to turn it off. You jumped up, chuckling at her, and you looked over at Peter to crack a joke with him about how one day his aunt would inevitably burn the place down. You stopped when you noticed he was entirely naked besides his boxers. 

“Shit Pete, when’d you get buff?” You asked. You’d seen him like this before when you’d gone to a community pool with him, but not recently, and you were genuinely surprised. He blushed at your comment and shrugged,

“I guess when I became Spider-Man.” You nodded, about to respond when you heard aunt May heading towards the room laughing. Peter was basically naked, a crumpled Spider-Man suit on the floor. You didn’t know what came over you, but you reacted so quickly. You grabbed his arm and threw him on the bed. You quickly jumped on his lap, straddling him, and kissed him. Aunt May opened the door chuckling about her mistake still, 

“Well dinner’s burnt… Oh my.” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you and Peter. You quickly scrambled off his lap and to the opposite side of the bed, both of you beet red with blush. You quickly got up, grabbed your textbook and rushed towards the door. 

“Well, I’ll be seeing you.” You waved, quickly exiting the apartment. You honestly had no idea what came over you. You knew you had to distract May from Peter’s suit on the ground, and you weren’t sure how to go about it with him being half-naked. The only explanation for the nakedness you could come up with quickly was kissing him. You felt awful. Not only did you not ask him if it was cool if you did it, but you just left him to explain to May. The only thing that felt right about it was that she definitely wouldn’t be talking about anything else, and she above all else would not notice the suit carelessly thrown on the ground by Peter. 

Your phone binged, and you dreaded looking at it. Hoping it wasn’t Peter.

P: “Can you call me later?”

You sigh, and you turned off your phone. You didn’t want to talk about it until you came up with a good reason for your actions. You knew you couldn’t avoid Peter forever, but you could at least try. All night, the only thing you could think about was how wrong you were to have put Peter in that position, and you knew that at school you’d have to apologize, and face the music. You hoped things wouldn’t be awkward for too long. Peter on the other hand was completely okay with what had happened, he knew your mind well enough to know you probably panicked and that was your solution to distract May and explain him begin naked. He wasn’t mad in the slightest, and he actually just wanted to know that the two of you were cool since you ran off so quickly, and weren’t answering your phone. 

The next day you asked your dad to drive you to school on his way to work. You wanted to avoid Peter until it was impossible to do so. So, you didn’t turn on your phone until your drive to school, and you drove instead of taking the bus with Peter. When you turned your phone back on your notifications from Peter came in.

P: “Hey, can we talk?”

P: “I just wanna make sure you’re good.” 

P: “At least tell me if you got home safely.”

*2 missed calls from “spider-boi 🕷”*

P: “I’m guessing you fell asleep or shut your phone off to study, so I’ll see you in the morning I guess. Goodnight!” 

P: “Hey, are you meeting me at the bus stop?” 

P: “Did you sleep in or are you still ignoring me?”

P: “I’m gonna get on the bus, but if you don’t text me back I’m calling you at lunch then banging on your door after school’s out.” 

You sighed and reluctantly texted him back,

Y: “I’m alive, I promise. Slept in, wasn’t feeling well. Dad’s driving me, see you in gym class.”

When you looked up from your phone you saw that your dad had stopped, and was being directed by an officer to take the side street. There was a huge explosion that happened at Mr. Delmore’s. You remembered when you kissed Peter, you smelt smoke in his hair, but you assumed it was from May’s cooking. You wondered if he was there when it happened. 

When you got to school you rushed to your locker and put your stuff away, hoping to not bump into Peter in the halls. You had one class without Peter before lunch and that was band. Since he dropped it at least. You quickly rushed to the band room and began setting up and tuning your flute. You nervously shook your foot and dreaded each tick of the clock bringing you closer to facing Peter. After the bell rang, indicating band was over and it was time to head to gym, you slowly packed away your instrument and music sheets. You took your time changing in the locker room, and eventually dragged yourself out to the gym floor. 

“(Y/N)! Finally, I was so worried about you last night!” Peter rushed over to you, a look of relief on his face as he brought you in for a hug, that you hesitantly returned. “What’s the matter?” He asked as he pulled away and you took your seats in the back of the bleachers, getting ready for the day’s instructions. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you, I don’t know what came over me or why I did it, I just panicked and wanted an explanation for why you were almost naked in the room with me for May and it just sort of happened. Please don’t hate me.” You rushed out everything you’d been telling yourself you’d say to Peter when you finally had to confront him. He just chuckled. 

“I understand why you did it, and I could never hate you. And as far as first kisses go, that wasn’t too bad.” He winked at you, trying to make you laugh and feel better about the situation. 

Taglist: @popluckbih @yourbiggestspiderfan

I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome :)

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My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

[scottspack]

My Wife Has An 18 Hour Drive Fic Rec Roundup

I wanted to make a fic rec post for the insane amount of Untamed fic ive been reading anyways, and Chi @got2ghost​ is driving halfway across the country tomorrow, so there’s no time like the present to put all of the really great fics ive read over the past couple of weeks in one location! Let’s get it poppin!

Ones That Chi Already Read:

A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k)

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt completely and wholly fulfilled by the resolution found in this fic. 10/10 cant recommend enough. 

One Rouge Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!!

Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he brings him back from the Burial Mounds until they bring Wuxian back to Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I reread this fic at LEAST once a week. *chefs kiss*

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Wangji and Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and the peacock?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

In the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

Ones That Chi Has Yet To Read:

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k)

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it.

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k)

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of his cousin Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

It’s smut! What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

Sweet Night by thejillyfish (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

In-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

Shadows In The Sun Rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k)

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is.....fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! 

WHEW OKAY that’s enough for right now!

I’m constantly reading new fics all the time so maybe eventually I’ll make a second one if Chi actually reads/likes any of these (they’re picky!), or if anyone else likes this list and wants updates.

TO CHI: Thank you for getting me into The Untamed! I love you! I had the best time texting you every thought that passed through my head while I watched it. I’ve loved all of the content you’ve sent me from the book and the comic. I’ve loved making fun of Yibo with you. I’ve loved being your fic taste tester. Life sucks right now but at least we have wangxian!

TO EVERYONE ELSE: If you read any of these fics please come to my DMs and talk to me about them! I have a lot of feelings and love to cry over fics! Thank you!

[ne-fe-li-bata]

Aye yo CORPSE!  ...

Dead ass;

You can't convince me that Corspe was/is/does ; 

in no particular order..

• Deserve to be held ( I would smother him with my chest and hold him tighter than he has ever been held) & protected from this world

• Pyro! Mans loves🔥🔥🔥 - mostly his fav elemental  (Leo is a fire sign); “WOOO... now that’s a fire!”

•  Loves knives/weapons- has a collection (quite a nifty 1, ay thank-a-you) & even knows how to use butterfly knives/ tackle combat.

      Has a collection of weapons (brass knuckle, daggers, swords, knives,etc.)

•  Highly interested in combat/training. Most likely has training in some sort of combat. Loves any form of physical combat < UFC,MMA, Boxing, any type of martial arts>

•  Absolute proper gentlemen / clearly has the utmost charm/cunning

      I.e holds the door open & will slap yo ass on the way in, moves you away from street side when walking, pulls chairs, defends your honor, etc.

• Takes A . L . O . T  to truly capture his attention- but once you have it ..%100

•  With his person; protective/obsessives/ possessive/ sensual/ affectionate .

              < mine is mine. me no share -like absolutely not at all>

             “ You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for ya“

• RP'er on DeviantArt/chats had his own OC. (also prob had his fav person to RP with) 

         <prob even talked to them in MSN or private chat>

•  Watched mostly nothing by anime/cartoons (nick/CN) as a kid & also mostly watched certain shows/movies as a kid well into his teens

         (could recite quotes/scenes as second nature)

•  Not a major musical theatre type of kid. But musical movies/shows was 1 of his favs- but still highly interested/ in love with theatre/musicals/preforming arts none the less.

-EYES DON’T LIE

•’staring problem’ he’d just stare at you -deep in his head (both good & bad) you’d have to bring him back to you ..”babe- eh, come *snap*back to me. What’s on your mind my love?’

•  Genuinely a really warm person- but only to certain people, but comes across cold & distance 

•  Grew up in the internet & knows the way around the 'business' & 'faceless' YouTubers/celebrities

•  His teens/ late adolescents consisted & grew up on YouTube O.G videos/ video game commentary/content;

  Cry.. <Cry was a huge part of my life & still hold a special place in my heart. Corspe just like I was most likely devastated with the shit that went down> 

Jack

Nova

Sp00n

Jontron

Smosh

Nigahiga

Shane

Jenna

Hanna Hart

Phil/Dan

KevJumba

Ray William Johnson

Pewds

Machinima

EMT

ERB

Wassabi Prod.

VlogBros, 

-etc

• Has an oral fixating (lovebites indefinitely <like dead ass ya’ll be chillan/ out & he’d attack you> & just needs something in his mouth always)

• Fidgety af, always need to be playing with something in his hands/playing with 

•  Is a goddamn absolute certified freak--but also super soft bean boi. (can't stress how this boi needs& deserves to be protected)

• Constant hand/arm touching/stroking for comfort.

• Daddy{papi} / Mommy(mamá) . Master . Sir  kink - hard control kinks- but highly sub. 

hard(er) kinks

• Lovebites = M I N E 

obvs fishnets/ crossbody straps/ lingerie

lace

collars/ restraints 

toys

     •RP

degrading/praising

sub/dom switch

showing/proving your actually/completely & utterly his/ he’s completely & utterly yours..

& of course you know it's go time when 1 - if not both of you has kitty ears on. 

over stim 

*no touchy/ don’t let me go*

“look at what I’ve done to you”

“you kno only I can do this to you”

“look how greedy you are for me”

“look at the mess you’ve made because of me’ 

“cum on my face”/’cum for me”

“who do you belong to” / “you belong to me & only me”

100% all black clothing 🖤

*that once we get home / I swear I’ll deal with you right here, right now* look 

primal play  “when you run from me, it only makes me want you more” “you know imma find you kitten”

pet names (beast< i feel like you call this man “ (a) beast”-he about to lose his absolute fucking mind> , “oh Corpse/______, you absolute fuckin’ beast- my God” kitten, babyboy/girl, baby(e), bae, my love, lover boy, my darling, slut, needy little bitch, cum slut, lil’ whore, master/mistress, king/queen”

“only yours” “just ______” “ no-one but _____” “only____” “only you” 

‘I’ll keep you so no one can find you or bother us’

“that’s my girl” / “that's my boy”

“would you like to/ I saw----”

“look at me” “don’t look away from me”

GROWLING / talking through clenched jaw

not breaking eye contact 

     • his name & ‘Corspe’ being cried out 

“cry out my name for me baby. know who you belong to”

video/sexing/teasing 

breeding kink

voyeurism

abrasions

aftercare af 

impact play 

24/7

edging 

accidental stim; “holy fuck- I’m so turned on by you rn”

rope bondage 

begging 

worships 

•  But also soft kinks; 

MEME SENDING

head on lap/chest

naps

playing with hair 

matching outfits

voice messages 

always touching (somehow)

no space between bodies

picture taking together/ just of you

body rubs, head rubs

massages

competition 

play fighting

“this reminded me of you”

“I remember you said” “I know you...”

“you know I love you”

“I can tell by your eyes”

“ugh- I swear to shit imma marry you 1 day”

“nothing really made sense until you”

“do you wanna watch”/ “WAIT!? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN?!”

“damn- you really do love/like me, eh?”/ “you are SO fucking mine”

“that’s my girl”/ “that's my boy”

pet names/ “MY_______” “YOURS”

long stares

dates- stay at home dates are his fav, as your attention/focus is just on him 

choker/necklace/ jewelry (that 1 of you bought- NOT LIKE HIGH PRICE TAG, but like seen it & was like ‘omg ____ would so wear...’) 

cuddles with movies /anime watching time

just being in the same room/on call- even in silence 

* emojis*- just some sort of communication 

inside jokes/ puns/dark humor

seeing 1 another with kids

future kink (family, travel, etc)

playing video games 

dancing/ singing with 1 another

Sitting on the ground, wrapped around his leg when he streams/edits

Nerf gun fights 

Watching him record (tracks/editing/streaming)

•  Loves- loves surprises <like dead ass would set up a surprise date/ do a scavenger hunt for you/ surprise you with your fav thing>

•  Loyalty is everything & his best attribute (& pride) 

• The music that he make is from the soul/heart. He pit everything has has/what he has left into his art

•  No one has seen the real him - a side he truly hides

•  He's both book & street smart

           Taught himself through YouTube/Reedit/online 

•  Fav actors; Jim Carrey/Robbin Williams/Will Smith (?)

•  Man’s straight up dangerous. we only know like a  quarter of him & people fall at his feet. ( h e . i s . n o t . t o . b e. F U C K E D . w i t h) 

•  Hates silence 

         ( constantly needs background noise)  <also can't fight me on this babyboi cuddles pillows/blankets for night-night time>

•  People don't understand the pain he is in every day, unless they have fibromyalgia/GERD/high functioning (sever social)anxiety/depression/ agoraphobia 

(my mom suffers with fibro/depression <I myself have GERD/ sever social amenity/depression>& I wouldn't wish those illness on my worse enemy...)

• Over all pain has changed him

• Has dealt with self harm since a young age- most likely 9- 11 yrs old. (as someone else who’s suffered with SH for years- when you become so numb it 1 of the only ways to feel some sort of anything/makes you feel like you’re alive)

• Addiction (drugs/people/things)

•  Wrote & read a lot of fanfiction

        (most likely his main source of reading in pre/teenage years)

• Is a hopeless romantic but has his guard way up

•  Obsessed with Japan / Studio Ghibli

• Doesn't think he deserves any of the recognition/ fame he's gotten--but definitely deserves it all as he's creative & inspirational as fuck. Also he’s worked so hard for it & had put himself through so much

    Contrary is highly appreciative of those that are supporting

• Doesn't do it for the fame but for the fact he know how he's gotten people through hard time (just like those on the internet got him through)

• Was a scene boy that vibe’d of myspace/ listens to a lot of  ‘scene’ pop-punk, emo/ scene band shit (band?)

•  Also is/was a major tumblr boy

•  Would be a phenomenal father

•   His love language: physical touch & words of affirmation 

• He would flinch at touch movement but would melt in your hands

• Face caresses would trigger anxiety/ tears.. but once he’s calmed/comfortable would burry his face in your touch. neck & chest

•  Still caught up in daydreams

•  A part of him is still never satisfied even if it’s exactly to the pin point detail of what he wanted  

•  Has at least 40/50(ish) songs he hasn't released

•  Mommy & daddy issues (not saying his home life was really- really  fucked - but non the less- it certainly wasn't the best).. Also wants to protect/provide for his family (especially his sister) & was prob closer to a grandparent/aunt/uncle)

•  Definitely prefers to be by himself, as every time people come around, it's like;‘"this is why I'm okay (ish)with being alone" 

• lost an important person to him due to O.D/ suicided..

•  Also most likely to of heard his "friends" shit talking 'Corpse' or something correlated with him

•  His pride is his biggest sin (next to lust)

•  Has single-handedly defined a huge part of 2020 ( in the best way)

•  Went through a fighting stage where he was ready to fuck anyone up on a drop of a dime (middle/'high school'/street fights- possibly even under ground)

          but also a stage where he cut absolutely everyone off for a solid couple years

•  Most likely obsessed with 1 of 3 creatures; lion, dragon, wolf ( 5ish- possibly bear/fox)

•  Dinosaur obsessed 

• Internet & video games raised him

• He raised himself

Quick to adapt to surroundings/situations.

•  Mighty Morphin Power Rangers was his shit ( I CAN SO SEE YOUNG BABYBOI RUNNIN AROUND THE HOUSE IN A POWER RANGER SUIT) "IT'S MORPHIN' TIME MOTHER FUCKER"

              fav ranger- green 

•  Has up until next year planned out & is working on the next 'version of corpse' ( PR, vids, music, etc)

•  Also med/high key this man was most likely in a physcward (more than once) ..

•  This man deserves more than he'll ever give himself recognition for & knows in the back of his mind--people will hate just to hate

•  Rose is his fav flower  🌹

•⛈️🌧️. >🌞.  Loves storms/ rain & prefers them over sunny days

•  Loves the moon/stars/space (?) < observatorium dates = fuckin mint>

• Pixar/Disney lover

        <still believes- deep down in happy ever after ... but thorough an twisted yet not so twisted- simple(??), dedicated process(?)>

•  Fav Pixar movie.. either Wall.E or Toy Story 

    •  Pixar > Disney

         •  But fav Disney movie- Beauty & the Beast (?)

• Most likely had a Jackass obsession's (doing dumb hoodshit)

•  Fall is his fav season (?)

•  Horror/ thriller movies/shows over everything (obvs)

•   Had an escape place in town where he’d hide from the world- that absolutely no one knew about. 

•  Was really into graffiti/ street art 

•  Arested as a youth - but charges dropped- or was still considered a mirror (either fighting/ possession/ trespassing/ vandalisms)

• Arrested on heavier charges (also same as above - but not tried as an minor)

•  also-ALSO ... thou he feels like he owes people something. HE DOESN’T OWE ANYTHING TO A N Y O N E . His mental & well being is the most important.

•  On a side & major note. You can't deny that this man single handily is a (in my opinion) the 2nd biggest “C” that define 2020.

•  Was most likely really into skateboarding/BMX

• Late night drives/impulsive road trips & playlist/ sitting at lookouts, just in silence & touching 1 another. 

• Clingy af-.. but could also be distance & cold af- especially on high pain days. stormy brain days. PTSD episodes.

• Slow dancing/ dancing around the apartments. with or without music.

• Rocking out with each other- screaming lyrics in each other face.

• “hey baby- how you feelin” 

         *grunting* *shuffles over & lays on chest* 

• Huge comforts for 1 another;

      Especially when going out, being wrapped around him for comfort & reassurance. Even being at home alone together- panic attacks are shit, PTSD episodes are even more shit. helping each other with bathing & caring

     When he’d be hiding from his reflection- or stares just a little too long. Going up behind him & worship him (vise versa)

• He’d be your biggest hypeman/ #1 fan (vise versa)

• Would LOVE you wearing his clothes/jewelry & would love to wear you things.

Was probably engaged to his ex (that's why he gets offt when people mention "corpse wife"

There'd be days where he'd be so distance & cold.. & tell you to leave but wouldn't let you.

He'd sit in the bathroom with you when you shower/have a bath.

As he doesn't sleep most night. He'd be up just watching you sleep & caressing you.

Lil spoon > big spoon.

<more to be added>

I love you... genuinely . turly.  madly. deeply.