#hed try so many things and practice and go over movements and voices that it starts to FLOW

[corrodedcoughin]

okay so your trans art binge-reblog spree yesterday kinda synced up with me having Intense Gender Feels so please allow me the liberty of gently knocking at your inbox again bc I feel a mighty need to unleash some trans!Eddie headcanons on you >.>

imagine the sheer emancipation of Eddie growing out his hair again after he had cut it short when first moving in with Wayne but this time long hair feels different and so, so much freeing bc it's no longer a stupid social expectation rooted in sth that isn't even true about him but instead a personal choice, one deeply connected with the music that comforts and inspires him like nothing else

imagine the freedom of him first realizing he's trans and how things — maybe not all things but at least some of them — suddenly fell into place from just knowing who he is, even if back then he had no opportunity and no safe place to as much as think about trying to socially transition. just feeling like his authentic self for once, without the weight of others' preconceptions about all the arbitrary ways he's supposed to be. he might've been unable to tell anyone at that time but simply having that knowledge to himself was liberating from the years of having felt like there's sth wrong with him. liberating bc now he knew for a fact that there wasn't. how can this be wrong if it made him feel like himself for the first time maybe ever?

imagine him hesitantly knocking on his uncle's door in the middle of the night when he had no choice but to run away from home. imagine the surprise on Wayne's face and all the unyielding unquestioning trust and comfort he's got for him, so thorough and genuine that it only takes him a few days to come out despite the fear. and then Wayne's silence breaks into a question of what name his nephew would like to called then. the words startling soon-to-be-Eddie into a impulsive hug, which is returned with utmost care and with quiet thinking-out-loud rambling of whether Wayne's got any clothes that would fit his nephew and that he would feel comfortable in

imagine the joy when Eddie gets a fake ID from Reefer Rick one day

imagine him making friends with the rest of Corroded Coffin guys and, when he gathers the courage and trust to come out, being met with support, ranging from confusion and a promise to eventually get how any of it works and to respect Eddie's pronouns etc, to deep understanding that hardly needs words bc you know you're being seen for who you actually are

imagine Eddie working on his voice and ending up achieving some success partly thanks to singing along to his favorite songs and trying to learn harsh metal vocals and at first scaring everyone around by going over the top with them until he figures out ways to train his voice to be more masculine sounding without resorting to that kind of harshness (and developing multiple fun vocal stims on the way)

imagine Eddie getting together with Steve and as a bonus gaining the perfect person to get advice from when it comes to figuring out a workout routine for his purposes

imagine the relief of knowing there are multiple people who you can be your authentic self with and who love you for this and would never change a single thing about what makes you yourself

oof well, I kinda carried away "a bit" (meanwhile the Feels have only intensified further whoops) and these are in no particular order but I really hope you'll like this humble offering. have a restful fulfilling weekend💜

LIAM!!!! LIAM!!!!! I am always ready for transing the narrative (been in some gender struggles too so let’s be in this together 🤝) I’m going to be running commentary replying so if it’s incoherent or accidentally cover something said later I’m sorry!!

- the hair!! YES!!! I feel like he had long hair before and felt pushed into have short hair in order to be taken seriously in his identity but what he always really wanted to be was ‘just a boy with long hair’ and the more it grows the happier he gets becuase THIS!! THIS!!! Is who he feels like he should have always been!!! This feel RIGHT! When it gets past the length of being ‘acceptable’ for a boy and starts brushing his shoulders he hasn’t never felt more strongly that he is Right. That this is Who He Is, this is Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson is a societal expectation-dodging BOY

- THE ACCEPTANCE AND REALISATION!!! What if he was going around as a child saying kid stuff like ‘when will I grow a beard?’ And being hushed by his elders (before Wayne). Going along with what was given to him, be it toys or clothes because his family didn’t have a lot so he’s not going to ask for more but knowing that they didn’t feel right. That he was performing a character for these people and hoping it would be enough for them, for himself. It’s not, something still feels wrong and he can’t figure out. But then, then he gets the keys to the kingdom, he moves in with Wayne and Wayne gives him some money and sets him loose in the thrift shop. At the start he sifts through the girl’s rails but all of the sizes are wrong for him. So wayne just suggests the boys racks because hey it’s just T-shirts and we need to get you stuff that fits. He guides eddie to the plain T-shirts, not thinking much of it. Not thinking it’ll be a Realisation in the young mind of his nephew. Eddie goes home with 2 boys T-shirts that day and from then on gravitates to exclusively wearing them. Next thrift shop visit eddie makes a beeline to the boys section and doesn’t look back.

- AHHH WAYNE AND COMING OUT I LOVE YOUR VERSION!!! What about Wayne passing a couple of shirts on to Eddie? A hat too? And a belt because god knows Eddie’s buying the jeans that hide his hips and needs something to hold them up. Wayne starts calling eddie ‘son’ and ‘boy’. Every time it’s like Christmas lights have been turned on behind his eyes. He feels dizzy with it, can’t contain himself, has to clench his fists to stop himself from shaking becuase this? This feels right. It fees Correct and knowing Wayne is here with him is the ballast he needs to secure himself on this unpredictable ride.

-CORRODED COFFIN SAYING ITS SO METAL OF HIM. (I personally also hc Gareth as trans so I like to think that Jeff and Freak are always ready to be Boys and show them Boy Stuff. Like alongside band practice they had Boy Practice at the start and now they can burp the alphabet in harmony and can armpit fart guitar solos and play fight and are just GOOFY)

- eddie going to a gig or band practice and then the next morning waking up with a slightly wrecked voice that he /loves/. He surreptitiously tries to maintain it, shouting lyrics in his room and just screaming sometimes but it starts to get painful and he accepts he has to find a different way. He listens to the radio with Wayne, asks to go with him when Wayne’s work friends plan a couple of drinks in one of their yards. Eddie gets to go to a couple, gets to listen to Wayne’s country and rock radio stations. Gets to hear these men talking and tries out phrases he hears when he’s on his own, records them on a tape deck he found in the thrift by luck one day. Records and re-records until he gets it right. Until he can prank call principle Higgins and get shouted at down the phone ‘I’ll find out who your father is boy! He’ll have your hide!’ The peak is when he goes into scoops and gets everything he wanted ‘hey man, how’s it going?’ From the offensively cute sailor with the big hands and strawberry sweet smile

- WORKOUT SUPPORT STEVE. YES. YES ABSOLUTELY!!! Steve showing him that he can’t just hit upper body every day, that he has to get everywhere. That he needs to make his core thicker if he wants that boy look. That working on his quads and calves will help, he promises it won’t leave him a big butt and tiny waist. (Not unless he wants Steve’s routine, that boy is going to work on his ass-ets okay?) eddie doing his first full push up with Proper Form and feeling the muscles in his back move and thinks yes. This is Good. God knows he’s not great at sticking to it but when it serves a purpose and it means he gets to ogle his boyfriend? Kind of a win win

- TBE LAST POINT!!! Yes!!! Eddie living in subconscious fear for so long that he pushes the very notion of being a Boy down. so far Down and Away that he won’t ever let it see the light of day. Or so he thinks. He tells himself that he is fine, that this is fine. But it isn’t and he doesn’t know what feels wrong. Until it slowly starts to change at a glacial speed. He tries different things. Starting only in his room, makes jokes that he thinks he can get away with in front of Wayne. Pushes it further, does more Boy things with corroded coffin. Sees that it’s okay? They are okay with it? With how he is? Sees that Wayne just nods at him and doesn’t make a fuss? That Wayne’s friends don’t bay an eye somehow? (Sure some guys at work do, but Wayne makes sure they know where their opinions aren’t wanted. That Wayne and his group aren’t to be taken lightly on the topic of Wayne’s nephew)

Eddie experiencing so much acceptance and love and there being so venom in it. No ‘waiting’ for it all to pass and Eddie to go back to ‘normal’. Eddies never been normal and that’s a badge he starts to wear with pride. With defiance. Knowing that he has everyone he could ever need how could be not?

[sludgeb0mb]

So, lambert and keira mommy kink?

Its not like lambert doesnt know hes got some hangups, ok? Hell, after everything hed been through its amazing hes only got a few. But fuck if this wasnt the worst one.

Keira knew, almost right from the start, that lambert was missing a sort of guidance. He could have a focused, strategic mind when he was calm, but other times he would lash out like a child. Keiras heart hurt for him, as a sorceress she knew all to well the pain of losing ones childhood.

Lambert had known a lovers touch, but needed the nurturing of one as well. She had been nervous at first, not wanting to be tied down by some man-child, but he wasnt anything like that. He deferred to her at any opportunity and encouraged her to do as she will. It was still in lamberts usual way, a dismissive noise when she suggested he fetch her something, but then returning with it before sundown. The way his golden eyes would shine when she praised him won her over, in the end. He was just too darling to resist.

He was useful. And sweet. And funny. And it was just natural for keira to lean in to her need to care for him, to fill the holes in his heart as best she could.

"Will you be a good boy for me?" Her cock--a soft polished wood with a metal core, was slick against him. The runes carved into the metal inside allowed keira to feel it as intensely as if it were her clit rubbing against him. Lambert whimpered below her, arching his back more to get closer to her cock while nodding into the pillow in front of him.

"I'm being good, Mommy. Please,"

She tutted, Lambert had so little patience, he was always begging for it when theyd only just started. She cant blame him, he was missing this so badly, and the heat pooling in her belly responded to that neediness.

"Okay baby, but remember we go at my pace. You dont ask for more than I give. Isnt that right, sweet?" Her thumb pushed down on the base of her cock, directing it toward his loosened hole, tip circling the rim in a way that had him tense with the urge not to push back even more.

"Yes, please mommy I wont be greedy, I promise." His voice sounded watery, as if he was going to cry already. Keira wouldnt be swayed by his tears, though. She knew when to be firm with her boy.

Keira pushed into him, just enough to allow the head of her cock to get past his rim, sighing as the magic of the toy allowed her to feel the heat of him. Lambert didnt bother holding back his moan, too focused on trying to be good and still for keira. He was whining deliciously, and as keira slid further into him it became drawn out, his voice fraying as she reached the hilt.

"Thank you, thank you," he was babbling into the pillow he was holding on to, whole body shaking with unspent energy while he waited for his mommy to fuck him. Instead, keira ground her hips against his ass, feeling the way his fur tickled her sensitive skin. Lambert was so masculine, all rippling muscles and dense, dark body hair, but when he was like this he was just her boy. Sweet and gentle and ready for her whenever she wanted.

She fucked him at a maddeningly slow pace, small thrusts that rubbed her cock over his prostate constantly while she held his hips in place. Lambert was leaking precome all over the sheets, but keira had already planned on washing them. Each slow drag felt like heaven for her, she didnt have to worry about shooting off or going soft after coming, so she could take her own pleasure at the slow build she preferred, though she knew her boy wanted more. He was sweating with the effort of it, and she leaned over his back to run a hand through his hair, causing her cock to be as deep inside him as possible. Lambert shuddered as her nails ran against his scalp, fresh tears springing to his eyes from the frustration of too-slow pleasure and her gentle touch. Her tits were pressed against him, the feeling of them so foreign with the feeling of a cock inside him. He felt cared for, but also like he was being forced to endure a punishment, and it was too much. He began crying in ernest, trying his best not to writhe on her cock even has his hole tightened around it.

"Whats wrong, baby? I thought you wanted whatever mommy gave you." Her voice was sickly sweet, unable to refrain from mocking him just a little so she could watch him cry harder. She could feel the way he tightened on her cock, trying to get more pleasure from the slow fucking.

"I-I do mommy, but," he sniffled, trying to gain composure. That wouldnt do, keira thought, and she slammed into him exactly once, her hand in his hair balling into a fist. He practically screamed, hiccuping as he tried to breathe through his sobs.

"But what, baby? If you dont like it, mommy can get you a nice plug to sit on." She wouldnt, of course, the hot clutch of him was too good to pull out. but his reaction was worth it, a hand flying up to cover the one in his hair, holding it there.

"No, no! I like it mommy, I do! Please dont stop." The poor thing sounded absolutely miserable, but she reached down to pat his cheek affectionately, making him relax a bit.

"There you go. I know whats best for you, dont you forget." He shook his head, kissing into her palm with reverence. It was a heady feeling, to have such a fierce, independent warrior reduced to this on the end of her cock, one that keira didnt see herself giving up any time soon.

She resumed the torturously slow grind of herself into him, feeling her own muscles twitch and clench as her pleasure built. She reached down around lambert, her hand ignoring his cock completely to stroke and fondle his balls. They were incredibly tight, had been drawing up since she entered him, and she loved the weight of them in her palm. Lambert gave a low moan like a man in pain, and she could feel the slick of his pre smear across her wrist. Fuck, she was getting close herself.

Nimble fingers stroked the smooth skin behind his sac, pressing as she bore down onto his prostate. Lambert jolted, his body uncomfortably hot as he endured her touch.

"Mommy, please, Im close." Lambert could barely get the words out between his tears, and keira barely bit back her moan in time. She removed her hand, giving a light slap to the head of his cock and enjoying the startled noise that came out of him.

"Didn't you promise not to be greedy? If youre a good boy and make mommy come, then Ill let you. If youre bad and you cant stop being greedy, then you get nothing. Will you be good and make mommy come?" Lambert was crying so hard he couldnt respond, but nodded. She stroked her hands soothingly down his back and sides, waiting for him to catch his breath.

"Thats my good boy, there you are. I know its hard, but you are doing so well for mommy. Here, im going to get ready for you." Keira pulled back, sliding out of lambert and making him gasp at the loss, his cute hole clenching around nothing. She reclined onto the bed, supported by a few of the many pillows they had amassed. Lambert dutifully held his position, though the shaking of his body told her that it was killing him.

"Come here, darling." She called to him, managing not to look surprised at the speed in which he turned to face her, crawling up her body and placing sloppy, desperate kisses wherever he could reach. She guided him until he was positioned over her cock, looking at her with red, puffy eyes and wet lashes. Her stunning little boy.

"Go ahead baby, remember that this isnt for you until after mommy gets to come." He nodded, lowering himself onto her cock so fast that he winced, but gave himself no time to adjust as he fucked himself on it. She pulled his hands forward to grab her tits, holding onto them with his thumbs pinching her nipples against the lower knuckle of his index finger. She smiled at him, watching him shakily try to return it as he used himself to get her off.

And gods, it was working. The magic of her toy allowing her to feel every movement, her pleasure had been building and now it was ready to crest, and her gorgeous boy working hard for her sped it along. His cock was nearly purple, bouncing with the rest of him and totally untouched. His balls looked close to bursting with how tight they were, and she knew he was so close he must be teetering on the edge but was holding back because she had told him to.

It only took a moment more until keira was coming, hips snapping harshly up into lambert as she did, the bedding below them soaked with her slick as her cunt clenched around nothing. She fucked into him a few times, riding out her high as lambert panted and whined above her. His favorite thing in the world was to please her, but watching her fall apart while he had to wait was a unique form of suffering. Keira knew this, and waited until the last of her aftershocks had faded before running her hands along his furry thighs, feeling them twitch and strain under her touch.

"Good boy, you did so good helping mommy come. Do you want your turn now?" He nodded furiously, but didnt move. She hadnt told him to.

"Go ahead baby, you deserve it. Let me feel you come on my cock." Lambert shed more tears, this time in relief as he fucked himself onto her for his own pleasure. Keira was a bit oversensitive, but hardly had to endure it as lambert came across her stomach without ever touching his cock, fully seated on her and grinding the head of her toy in the perfect spot. He managed to moan out a "thank you, mommy," as he shuddered and came, but it was barely intelligible.

Anytime they fucked like this, lambert was asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow, barely able to clean himself up as he drifted off. That was fine, he had worked so hard to listen to her that keira didnt mind. She kissed his temple before getting up to remove and clean her toy. When she crawled back into bed, lambert was cuddling close to her, making her feel dwarfed by his size as he wrapped his big hands around her waist. She carded her own through his messy hair.

"Did you like that, baby? I wasnt too mean to you, was I?" He sleepily shook his head, nuzzling against her neck.

"No mommy, s'good. Thank you." Keira smiled to herself, feeling boneless and sated and stupidly enamored with her boy.

[angelcorebabyowo]

Can I have a ride home, I'm at a party and I dont know anyone...

Paring: RemRom

Words: 2771

Chapters:1[or 2]/ ???

Warnings: cursing, somewhat unsympathetic light sides from how you look at it,

oman knew this was a bad idea, he knew going to this dance was a bad idea, he knew that his friends would most likely stand him up, trust me he did. What he didn't expect was to be sitting on the gym bleacher gently crying his eyes out. He didn't expect his brand new dress to be ripped or the heel of his heels to just tear off because he fell. Despite his shaking so much he mages to get his phone and call up his brother, one of the only people he cares about anymore and puts the phone up to his ears begging for someone to answer. Tears had started flowing more freely now, no control to him, and had started full-on sobbing.

"You've reached the trash can! Leave a message after the beep!" was all that came from the other line and Roman almost threw his phone. He tried one more time and it finally worked and he nearly jumped when it worked. The sound of Remus' voice put a smile on his face despite the circumstance.

"Hey whats u- wait, are you crying?" The voice on the other line was hoarse and sounded as if they just chugged a gallon of those drink packets. Just like Remus. He had stayed home seeing as he had gotten expelled earlier in the year for beating up one of the kids who picked on roman and sent them to the hospital, he was lucky that no charges had been pressed, although it was bad enough the school board hadn't wanted him to come back unless he pulled that stunt again.

"They stood me up!" Roman cries and tries to form a ball but the bleachers hadn't given much room to so much as move another inch, "Told me I was too annoying to hang out with them anymore!" he knew it sounded childish but that was the exact wording, and he wasnt about to back down.

"Who do they think they are!" both of them said at the same time, although, Remus sounded angrier than Roman. Roman made a sound that sounded a bit like a whimper at the tone, he never did like it.

"Look, I'm in the middle of something right now, and by that I mean I just woke up. I'll pick you up in a few minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line, or will you be alright?" Remus asks his tone of voice nearly completely changing after he heard Roman's reaction to it before. He might have been an asshole but not enough to fully harm his brother during their weakest point, he would never swoop that low.

"Can you um..Can you stay on the phone?" Roman wasn't crying anymore but he was still sniffling up a storm and it was apparent with every word. He had a small problem with being alone when he was in the state. He knew he couldn't do anything but it still made him beyond uncomfortable to be alone.

"Alright then, go and wash your face off to get all the snot off of it" Remus exclaims, Roman could hear him getting up and his bones popping in the prosses, "You're a messy crier"

Roman does just that well at least walks to the bathroom, wincing and hissing as he walked to the bathroom, he refused to take his shoes off so every step was painful and he nearly started crying again.

"What's the damage? I hear you hissing, sound like Dee" He heard Remus ask him, it was muffled due to the phone not being directly on his ear and more on his shoulder. Dee, Or Jauns Lawrenson, was their mutual friend who had graduated last year and was currently going to Law school or something like that. Neither of them paid enough attention to their friend's career to tell anyone about it.

"My shoe broke and my dress has a gnarly rip in it, luckily the dress looks pre-ripped, can't say the same for the shoes." Roman practically growls annoyed that his favourite outfit was remotely ruined."Stop laughing! It's not funny! It's not fucking funny!" He practically shouts as he gets into the unisex bathroom and locks the door. Luckily there was only one stall so it wasn't like anyone would barge in on him or yell at him for being too loud.

He slowly sets the phone down on the sink and moves to turn the water on, his movements were slow as if he didn't know if he wanted to turn the handle. In all honesty, he didn't want to, he didn't want to hear the noise of it right now, but looking in the mirror at his face he knew he needed to do it. His eyeliner had smeared and his mascara had dripped down to his cheeks and with how much he's rubbed them it was smugged in more places than one on his face.

"It's alright, look I'll tell you a trick that helps me. Paper towels. Get them as wet as you can and then turn the water off when it's as full as it can be, that way the water isn't on for that long and the struggle of everything isn't as bad as it would be!" Remus says cheerfully. Roman could hear the car door close and the engine start. "Want me to pick up Dee? I doubt he'd mind if so!"

He'd never be more relived for Remus to get behind the wheel, and the thought of Dee being there sounded beyond amazing, but it was always just a little too loud with all three of them in the car."No! Just you is enough, hurry up, would you? All the lights are hurting my head, I'll meet you out front"

"I'm also bringing you some pyjamas so that you don't freeze to death tonight. Love you, I'll see you soon" Remus says quickly before hanging up the phone. He had said it so many times in the past, the simple phrase 'I love you' although, it sounded a bit more affectionate today, Roman didn't question it.

After 10 minutes of scrubbing his face raw to get the makeup off he finally got a text from Remus alerting that he was outside. With that Roman practically runs out and to the car and quickly gets the passengers seat and groans as the somewhat to warm hits him, he gently sings into the seat not even putting his seatbelt on. He looks at the roof with a somber expression, it wasn't a good look on him at all.

"That bad huh?"Remus asks handing Roman MacDonald's bag and a normal Walmart bag "I picked you up a cheeseburger and a small fry, would've picked up a happy meal but I didn't know if you would've wanted that. Plus I know damn well you didn't eat anything today, don't play dumb with me. You also got some fuzzy bottoms and a paw-patrol shirt because I couldn't find the normal clothes, Hope that's alright." Remus started driving as Roman dug into his food. The other twin was right, after all, he hadn't had anything all day because of his nerves.

"Yeah it's all right, my guy," Roman says with a big bite of food in his mouth, a smile was now playing at the corners of his lips now instead of a frown. He then changed his shirt, not even carrying if people could see him do it. He wasn't a particularly interesting site to see after all, the only intresting part would be a scar over his heart from a surgery a few years back.

.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. Not polite" Remus says with a breathy laugh as he continued to drive, he was driving to the beach because he knew that was Roman's favorite place, most definitely at night. He just wanted to see the other happy again .

Roman rests his head on the window as the streetlights, and the city in general, fade into a bleak nothingness. He was used to it, he and Remus drove this same route nearly every night. Not under the same circumstances, of course, just on the nights Roman couldn't sleep or if Remus dragged him out of another midnight adventure. Tonight, after the prom fiasco, had the same calming air to it as all of the other times did. Roman sat up slightly, still making sure to slouch just enough to not touch the top of the seat so that he was still comfortable.

The music from the radio was soft enough to make the car seem a little bit alive. The twins' silence was never an awkward one it was, more often than not, a comfortable one. This didn't mean they enjoyed it though. It was Remus who broke the silence, it typically was, and smiled over at him. It was awkward seeing as the "elder" had sharpened his canines to a vampire-ish point on summer and now continues to do it anytime it somewhat goes dull. Roman did the same thing, although, he was too much of a wuss to do it for more than that summer so his teeth had dulled a lot in that area.

"I'm not going to ask you again Ro, what flavour milkshake do you want?" Remus questions as he pulls into a Rallys parking lot, not wanting to go to the drive-through without knowing the full order "If you same say some shit like vanilla I'm going to leave you in this parking lot."

"Jokes of you, I hate Vanilla milkshakes. Banana and can you ask for extra whipped cream" Roman says laughing softly and sits up completely before crossing his legs. He felt better now, and with the promise of something sweet his entire mood changed even more. "And I'll give you ten bucks when you get home if you get me a thing of funnel fries, like a small thing, not even a medium"

"I'll get you a medium shake and a small thing of those fries," Remus says with fake disgust, in all honesty, hed most likely steal a few of Roman's "How can you even eat those things? Think of all of the parasites that are in that dough"

"This is coming from the guy who drank the pond water from my science project!" Roman says with a smug smile. a few years ago Remus, as a dare, drank an entire jar of muddy pond water leaving him in the hospital for a month with several bacterial infections and nearly died. Roman was lucky Remus found it funny or hed most likely would have gotten slapped.

"Ugh- don't remind me, I'm still trying to pay off all of those hospital bills!" Remus groans sadly before pulling into the drive-through line before quickly saying his order and playing and getting his change back, he then got the food just as fast because it had been only them and it seemed pretty much deserted at the time. He quickly drove off mumbling something about how the workers seemed mean and he should go back and give them a piece of his mind.

"Ah shut up and give me my food," Roman says and practically snatches the bag from Remus' lap with a small smile and keeps it on his side. He wasn't being mean it was more of a playful/teasing type if anything. He was rarely mean to his brother but when he was it was for typically good reason, or he just wanted to be a nuisance. "None for you!"

"Little shit!" Remus says laughing fondly before reaching over and stealing one of the fries and plopping it in his mouth before taking a sip of his milkshake "Before everything, want to go home or do you just want to ride around? We don't have anything big planned so it's not like we have to even wake up early. I was going to bring us to the beach but I'm pretty sure we'd get chased off by those snobby rich guys again." "Want to risk it to see if they do?"

"Nah, knowing them they'd press charges or some shit trespassing and I don't feel like getting arrested tonight"

"You're no fun anymore!" Roman wines

"Finnnnneee We'll go later when there's no chance of us getting caught! That better Little prince?"

"Hell yes! now come on start driving faster!" Roman says with a grin looking over at Remus before turning up the radio and practically bouncing in his seat. He had heard that nickname so many times it might as well had been his name, it was a reference to one of his favourite story as a kid and even to this day "Our song!" Roman quickly rolled down the window and started tosing scream the lyrics to "tongue-tied by Grouplove" it was rarely played on the radio but when it did Roman made sure to sing it.

It had a good summer and over the top entry they could both get behind

"Let me guess, you want me to sing along with you?" Remus says laughing softly before rolling down his window as well as the other two windows. If the two of them were going to be loud they were going to be so loud that the entire neighbourhood they had been driving through was going to have to file a noise complaint on a random beat-up car that drove through the neighbourhood. and started screaming the lyrics. "Take me to your best friends house! Loved you then and I loved you AND I LOVED YOU NOW!" They both sung that part ith all of their heart, Roman was playing the air guitar and Remus jamming out while thumping on the wheel as he drove. The car was filled with the two Teens laughing their asses off as the music practically blasted as they screamed and laughed just as hard. For a moment they forgot about everything that ever happened to them as they jammed out.

Everything was perfect in that time and space.

Eventually, everything calmed down and Roman yawned and leaned back looking at the ceiling closing his eyes slightly and took a sip from his now melted Milkshake. "This was fun Re-"

"Really? I think it was the best experience we will ever have in this plane of existence."Remus says pulling into the driveway and parked the car, they didn't go to the beach seeing how late it had gotten and both had started to get overly drowsy "And yeah, it was fun for me as well. Want me to carry you or are your legs good enough?"

"Carry me" Roman whispers tiredly and making grippy hands in Remus' direction "Please?"

Remus took the keys out and got out of the car before walking over to Roman's side and helps them out and picks them up bridal style."You good?"

"Always am Rem, now hurry up before I spit in your face for moving to slow. "

"Oh you know I love it when you spit on me"

"Ugh! Shut up and get a move on, would you!"

Remus laughs as he walks into the house, it was unlocked because Remus kept losing the front door key, and then walks to Roman's room and flops them on the bed. "You going to sleep or want me to keep the light on? I'll most likely not come back for a few minutes because I have to go fix up the car," he asks walking over to the light switch. They shared a room because Neither Remus nor Roman had the strength to clean out, or sleep, in their parents' old room after they died despite it being years ago.

"Off, yeah off," Roman says softly nuzzling into the blanket cocoon he already managed to get himself into. His mind was practically mush at this point so he didn't feel like talking

"Goodnight sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite," Remus says turning the lights off fully.

Roman snorts "Goodnight Rem! Don't let them bite you either!"

Remus fondly rolls his eyes and playfully blows a kiss and closes the door and sighing softly as he hears the tiny click. He slowly walks back to the car to get all of the stuff and runs back inside and puts the stuff into the tiny kitchen before going to the room flopping down on his bed and looks over at Roman who seemed to be peacefully sleeping. He smiled and wrapped himself in his own blankets before finally falling asleep.

[dornishsphinx]

Steps on the Bifrost

Merry Nagamas @andthenalittledash--here’s your @nagamas gift! Can I just say—thank you so much for mentioning you like Laslow/Azura, because it is one of my favourite Fates ships and you gave me the excuse to finally sit down and write about them! (This also got a lot longer than I expected it to, haha.) 

[AO3 Link]

The Nohrian army advances along the path to a hollow victory, and even those who know there is a greater enemy left unchallenged cannot help but by swept along by the tides of war, and the circumstances chosen for them. 

Anankos had barely stopped toying with Takumi’s shell when she fled the throne room, great slashes of sapphire already beginning to rip their way up her arms and crawl their way across her face. She should have realised that her beloved would follow her, but some part of her, deep and cold and chosen second too many times before, had presumed he’d stay at his lord’s side. It would have been a cruel parting to be sure, but no matter the hours she’d agonised over the comfort or kiss she might have given him, she still had not the words to say goodbye. 

Even so, it was his arms she found herself in when she toppled over, exhausted; a mockery of a dip, like this was just another evening of dance practice. His clothes soaked through where her body touched his, and when she peered up at him through eyes half-shut in pain, she saw that his face was horror-struck.

“Hey. Smile for me, won’t you?” she asked, before he could demand an explanation. Her own smile was bright as she could make it. “That’s what you always ask of me, isn’t it?”

His face was still desperate as he balanced her with one arm and started rummaging through his pockets like his life depended on it. Medicines were useless in the case of curses, as she’d been told when she was a child and had asked why she couldn’t let the water dance in a constant rhythm, but Azura couldn’t find the energy within her to make him stop, nor the heart.

“Smile for me. Please,” she said, with gentle insistence.

Inigo smiled, though his eyes were glimmering and it was clearly forced. A lot of his smiles were, and she mourned that she wouldn’t see a real one before it was all over, but it was better than nothing.

“That’s right. Lovely.”

***

“Did you ever think about what you’d name your children?”

The copse of trees muffled the sounds of camp around them, creating the illusion they were, if not alone, cut off from everyone else. Laslow paused, still bent over with the laces of his dancing slipper only half-tied.

“I never really considered such a thing,” he said. He finished the knot, flexed his feet, and, satisfied, straightened back up. “Though I suppose…”

He considered, for a long moment.

“Soleil.”

“Soleil?” The name was unfamiliar to her. “It’s pretty, but why that name?”

Laslow stood. He moved his right foot behind him and let his whole body lean back onto it, stretching his arms out to the sides and up, in a wide, circular arc. His hands, palms upwards, halted level with his head.

“The soleil is a movement from a certain school of dance back home.” He remained in the position for a moment longer before letting his arms drop and stepping back into a normal stance. “It symbolises being bathed in sunlight, or just the sun in general. I’ve always liked it.”  

Back home, again, with no name. The urge to ask him where his home was grabbed at her yet again, stronger this time, but she stopped herself. He couldn’t tell her about this mysterious back home, just as she couldn’t tell him about Valla, be it of old or be it of the ruin beneath their feet.

“It’s always a pleasure to see the sun rise again, after all. How about you?”

Azura ignored all the old family names that occurred to her and chose another: “Shigure.” It had always struck her as a good name.

“Shigure?”

She smiled. “A light shower of rain.”

“My, it seems we truly are fated. What do you say to Rainbow for our third?”

Even as she joined him in laughter, she couldn’t help but recall that there was a Vallite name that would have been perfect for such a theme: Iris, after one of Valla’s first queens.

“What’s with the sudden curiosity?” he asked. “Interested in starting a family?”

She sent him a coy smile. Laslow’s cheeks burnt red and he averted his gaze, but then a wistful look came over him.

“You know,” he said, voice melancholy, “I lost my true family when I was a child. I was able to find something resembling it, but it’s not the same.” His face, if still a little embarrassed, was soft when he looked back over at her. “It would be nice, to create one together.”

She considered telling him she’d lost her family too, but given that he was retainer to a man who called himself her brother, that path would have led to nothing but more questions she couldn’t answer.

“I never really felt as though I belonged with the Nohrians, nor the Hoshidans,” she said instead. It was a poor substitute, but true enough, in its own way. “Not like Corrin does. Having a family together would be nice, I think.”

Laslow smiled; she couldn’t help returning it. It fell off his face, though, and an odd expression replaced it.

“Did I ever tell you that I come from somewhere far away? Very far.” He hesitated, clearly formulating what he was going to say next carefully. “If I were to go back, I would never be able to return. Would you—would you want to go with me?”

It was an unexpected question; the surprise must have shown on her face, because his blush spread even further over his cheeks and he stammered as he quickly rushed to explain himself.

“You don’t have to, of course—it’s just that, since you told me you don’t really feel like you fit in Nohr and Hoshido, perhaps we could make a fresh start? You, me, however many Soleils or Shigures or Rainbows we’ll have. We could visit my parents—my other parents—they’d be there too, and I’m so sure you’d like them.”

The look on his face was so tentative that her heart ached. For a moment, she fantasised about what it could have been like in a world where she might have made the same offer—offered even more than he could. But becoming royalty of Valla, that ruin with little chance of restoration, was more a curse than anything else now.

The wind rippled through the trees.

“That sounds lovely,” she said.

Laslow breathed out beside her, but before he could speak again she started to hum an old Vallite tune all the talk of the weather had reminded her of; it had once been a thanksgiving to Anankos, so she skipped over the verses of praise and onto how the dragon’s tears had first met with the fires of creation to forge the first bridge to the world above. (The existence of Valla was implicit, something so fundamentally understood mentioning it by name was unnecessary; it was just here.)

Laslow began to sway with the rhythm, and a few bars in, he began to dance.

***

Azura had never been close to her Nohrian family, in the literal as well as metaphorical sense. As the campaign wore on, however, that which Azura had always believed, but hoped was inaccurate—that the Hoshidans had little regard for her either—became a certainty. Kindness, likely performed on Queen Mikoto’s behalf and out of some sense of charity, was not closeness. It helped to think that way anyway, now that she was fighting on the side that had killed Takumi and were likely to slay the others too.

Still, if there had been a distance with Queen Mikoto’s own children, the average Hoshidan soldier cared even less for her wellbeing; she was nothing but another Nohrian now that Corrin had defected, as had been made clear to her when they’d torn her from the castle at Shirasagi and tried leaving her corpse at Fort Dragonfall as a message. (They were the same in theory, the two of them, hostages to the light and the dark, but it was always going to be Corrin’s choices that mattered, not hers.)

The lance fighters bearing down on her, venom in their eyes and curses on their lips, were not the first Hoshidans to try and rip her apart, but it was looking more and more certain they’d be the last. She considered, briefly, sapping their will to fight through song. There may have been no time left to stop the momentum of their thrusts, even if she were to relax their hearts enough to stop beating, and it might have been yet another waste of the pendant’s power, but still, even knowing it was of no use, she curled around herself and the stone on her chest, and would have begun to sing—

But there was a thicket, now. She looked on in confusion, slowly unfolding out of her defensive stance. The branches twisted around the soldiers like tentacles of some great octopus. They shouted and struggled as it devoured them, tangled in the thorns.

“They’re going to get out,” said Laslow, behind her. She turned. His hands were rooted in the earth and his voice was urgent and low. “It won’t hold them much longer.”

She stared at him; she couldn’t help it. His eyes were downcast, his hands and body trembling, as though he was unused to using the veins. It had truly been a secret then, from everybody, not just from her.

She turned, in a daze, and with a swipe of her lance, the skirmish was over. (Corrin would likely not approve, but Corrin didn’t know what it was Jakob did in the aftermath of battle, nor that Laslow had the dragon’s blood, nor the true depth of Xander’s emotions, nor the woman her mother had truly been. This would be one thread of a wide web of secrets and lies and deceptions; nothing, really.)

Laslow gasped and let go. The thicket receded, slowly and at an ambling pace, like it was an animal that had lost interest in the humans playing with it. She moved to kneel beside him, the movement half a stumble in the rush to get over to him. She snatched up his right hand with her own red-stained ones. There was dirt under his fingernails—he hadn’t taken care when he’d plunged them into the ground, it seemed—and even now, his arms were shaking. He gently touched her face with his other hand, its faint tremors all the more obvious when they were against her skin. Their eyes met for a long moment.

“They were going to kill you,” he said, the response to an unasked question.

They looked at one another for a moment longer before she kissed him, fleeting but without haste, and left the matter at that, helping one another to their feet and moving onward to the rest of the enemies they’d been tasked with eliminating. She wasn’t one to pry. She’d have been the worst kind of hypocrite if she was.

Still, when the battle was done, after they’d both remained silent on the subject of Hoshidan combatants found dead with deep scratches all over their corpses and they lay tangled together themselves, Laslow asleep, she lay awake with thoughts darting around her head like shoals of fish, this way and that. Her eyes idly tracked the veins which ran blue down his wrists and into his freshly-scrubbed hands.

A dozen thoughts had occurred to her, though only one had stayed lodged in her mind all this time; the first, in fact, that had sprung to mind when she’d seen his hands buried in the soil.

He’d once told her that he wasn’t supposed to exist in her world, though he couldn’t tell her why he came to be there, or how. She’d told him she understood, and she indeed had done, since she was under a similar obligation.

Maybe—

She touched his wrist lightly, just over the blue veins, and felt him come awake.

***

Once, when she had been the most wretched child among dozens of wretched children imprisoned within the circular walls of the royal keep at Windmire, Azura had experienced the most curious dream. Figures dressed in Vallite robes of the purest white had crowded around her in a version of Valla that no longer existed, each and every one vowing, with all the zeal of a holy mission, to ensure her happiness. They had enveloped her with such kindness and good cheer that when she awoke, her chest had felt light for the first time in months.

Beneath the open sky in a world at war, it had been a surprise to experience the dream once again: she was older now, after all, and had thought herself to have shrugged off the childish need for false comfort. The old figures had appeared before her tiny form once more—she’d still been a child in this new dream; it had felt natural in the way everything in dreams comes naturally—and a man, young and handsome, had kissed her on the forehead and promised a lifetime of smiles before sweeping her into one of the dances she’d been taught before the devastation, the traditional choral accompaniment that could not possibly exist in a reality where there were barely enough uncorrupted Vallites to form a duet soaring so clear and strong that her dream-self knew they could hear it in the world above.

What she had shivered at in daylight, even as it had felt natural in the dream in the way everything in dreams feels natural, was that the figures surrounding them were as distant and illusory as the soldiers that haunted Valla’s remnants, and the song to which they’d danced had included those verses she had suppressed in her memory, praise of the great Anankos echoing all around them over and over and over.

***

“I’ve taken stranger leaps of faith,” was Laslow’s only response.

She held his hand in her own, her fingers entwined with his. The water was hers to command, for however much longer she had; it would have taken and protected Laslow quite ably had she asked it, but she knew her touch would soothe any fears of drowning he might have had.

She pulled them through the water easily. At first, they were boneless as turtles gliding along a jet stream, but then she pulled them through faster, and faster, until they were darting down and down with such speed and grace that she imagined a current in their wake.

When they emerged the other end, falling out of the water in the same manner one might have fallen into it in the world above, she took Laslow into her arms and stayed with him in the air for a few breaths longer than necessary; a moment of self-indulgence, the water holding them up there to hover with all the rubble of Valla like a pair of courting dragonflies. She then let the water slowly start to disperse, the two of them floating down to the ground as a bubble does, landing elegantly together on their feet.

It was an unnecessary use of the pendant’s power, of course. Still, she’d used it so many times now, for Nohr and for Hoshido and for Corrin; if it was too late for her to aid in the fight against Anankos, if that fight would ever come, what was a moment of unleashing the pendant’s magic for herself, to will the water to dance around them and see how it would turn her beloved’s face into something akin to a dazed mortal gazing upon her like an oceanic goddess, a creature of power and majesty?

Besides, those priestesses who’d lectured her about restraint were all dead, Anankos’ puppets, or both. What did they know?

“You make the water dance almost as beautifully as you,” said Laslow. There was a slight stagger to his movements, and he leant back against one of the few pieces of stonework still anchored to the ground.

“None dance as finely as you but the water, love,” she said, smile transforming into a full grin, the ecstasy of the power and the water obeying her making her feel buoyant. “I just thought to give you a suitable accompaniment.”

“So, you were the Nestrian dancer, then,” he said. “I thought it might be. The way she moved, the steps she used, they were too familiar.”

“You’re not going to turn me in for the assassination attempt of our king, then?”

Perhaps it was the power still coursing through her, or perhaps it was because she knew Laslow, and knew who he’d pick between that dastard and herself, but she stared at him, unflinching.

“It was dangerous. If they’d found you—”

“Nobody guessed it was me,” she said. “None but you have the same eye for footwork, it seems. Not even my hair gave the game away. I did consider a wig, but there was no time to find one, and I thought it would be fine as is.”

Gods, but it felt good to talk without second-guessing every word.

Laslow still looked concerned, so she changed topic. “This is Valla,” she said to someone else for the first time in years. “This is my home. This is where I grew up. This is the kingdom Anankos destroyed.”

“So, you are a Vallite, after all. That’s why you’ve not been able to talk freely.”

“Is it why you haven’t been able to talk freely?”

Laslow hesitated before nodding. “Yes. I’ve known of it for years, though I’m not a Vallite myself.” A wave of disappointment hit Azura, but she weathered it. Laslow was still hers, no matter from whence he came. Besides, that he knew of Valla at all, that they’d shared this knowledge and curse together, was more than she could have ever hoped.

“How can you use dragon veins?”

She would have begged the gods he’d not mention Anankos’ name, but she’d never taken any god but the Silent Dragon, and he was now the enemy.

“Anankos gave us his blood.”

Rage bit into her heart. So, he was with Anankos. After all that had happened, after knowing she would never face him herself and make him answer for what he’d done, he’d managed to steal something else; her family, her home, and her lover, all warped.

“Anankos,” she said. It came out in a hiss, the sibilance continuing on a moment too long, serpentine.

Laslow reached out to touch her, but stopped short when she straightened and fixed him with a righteous glare.

“Anankos killed my father, you know. They were friends, once, but then he went mad and killed him. He turned the Vallites into these things. He turned Valla into this. And still, you’ve taken his side?” She thrust an arm out; the water moved with her. “You’ve taken his side?”

Laslow wouldn’t meet her eyes, no matter how she tried to capture them.

“My mother and father were killed by a dragon too,” he said. His voice was slow, and quiet. “He wasn’t mad, I don’t think, but I don’t know why else he did what he did. He ravaged the land, killed everyone he came across. He killed my mother and father, though they were friends with him once as well, or at least with the man he was. The greatest of friends. Anankos gave them the graves we couldn’t. And he let the flowers grow in that world once again.”

One tear, then another rolled down Laslow’s cheeks. Azura thought about wiping them away, but before she could move, he’d already dashed them away himself.

“It’s not the mad dragon we’re working for,” he said, voice steadier now. He finally met her gaze. “It was the remnants of his sanity we met. He gave us his blood, and we were to find and protect his daughter in Hoshido, though in the end, she’d been taken to Nohr.”

He paused.

“And we never found…”

He stopped.

“You found her,” said Azura. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised.

Her anger had subsided, somewhat, his tears and tale of woe dampening it into faintly-crackling embers, but years of bitter resentment and enmity for all those who would traffic with the god who had made her an exile were hard to wash away. She lapsed into silence, and stared out across the lake.

“There’s something you should know, if you hate Anankos so,” said Laslow. “Laslow is the name he gave me; it was something of an entry fee into this world.”

“Then what is your true name?”

“Inigo,” he said. He almost seemed shy, a faint blush coming over his features. Inigo. Somehow it fit him far more nicely than Laslow ever had.

“Inigo,” she said, trying it out on her tongue. “Inigo. A lovely name.”

Inigo smiled, but then a shadow crossed over his face. “There’s a way to get down here,” he said. “If we could bring Prince Xander here, perhaps we could stop the war.”

“There’s no stopping the war.”

“Xander is a reasonable man. If we can just tell him about Anankos—”  

Tell them. Tell those under whose tender care she’d been left alone to rot in the dark, tormented, where if the Hoshidans hadn’t stolen her away, she would have met her death at another child’s blade, or by poison in a chalice; tell those for whom she was now trapped into fighting by Corrin’s decision (for Azura, who had lived her life among oaths and silent curses and prisons, had never been able to make a decision that mattered in her life.)

“It matters little if he’s reasonable,” she said. “Prince Takumi is dead. Queen Mikoto and King Sumeragi are dead. Nohrians are nothing but cutthroats and reprobates to the Hoshidans after all that has passed, and they’re far too stubborn to clasp hands with a nation of scoundrels, no matter who their common enemy might be. Garon would have Xander executed the moment he stepped out of line anyway. It’s too late. It’s too late.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Azura felt the cold bite of the pendant’s chain against her skin, and the faint but ever-present power that coursed through its core. No. No, I’m not.

“In my experience,” he said, a hard-won certainty on his face, “There’s always just a little more time left than you think.”

***

She closed her eyes, before feeling something smooth and round placed in her palm. She opened her eyes again, frowning. It was a small sphere, colours dancing around it like there was a rainbow trapped within.  

“The mad dragon’s host sacrificed himself,” Inigo said, his voice weak and hold uncertain, like he wasn’t quite sure if he needed to stop her bursting or flying away. If he didn’t dry off soon, she noted vaguely, somewhere in the back of her mind, he’d catch a cold. “No matter how Father begged him not to. And still he got to come back. My parents ought to have died, and still they got live. There are worlds where fates can be averted. There are worlds where Anan—”

He gasped in pain as a sombre cheer rose in the distance, the Nohrians acknowledging their hollow victory. She felt his fingertips begin to drip where they rested upon her skin. Alarm shot through her and she scrabbled for his fingers—now that he’d shut up about the Silent Dragon, they were fine, though the tips of his fingers were gone along with part of his nails, down past the quick, water dripping from them like a mockery of blood.

“Please,” said Inigo. He whispered short pleas into her shoulder, abandoning all argument in favour of begging. Even without looking at his face she knew he looked wretched, his shoulders slumped and tears already starting to streak down his cheeks.

She touched the orb, weakly. Its aura was strong, but secure and protective, like the stories of the kindly god upon which she’d been raised. She traced its surface with a finger, watching the tracks of water left behind, then curled her hand around it.

“Laslow?” came Prince Xander’s voice. She raised her head and saw him walk through the door, a few more furrows in his brow and concern lurking beneath his usual stern expression. “Are you with—”

The last thing Azura ever witnessed of either the world above or below was Xander’s eyes landing on the pair of them and widening, everything warping and spasming as the two last hopes for the worlds above and below disappeared from his life as suddenly as they had entered it.

[foreverlovingdaryldixon]

Stop worrying about the ‘what ifs’ // Daryl x EDS!Reader

Prompt: Hi I was wondering if you could do a daryl and reader were the reader has a condition it’s called EDS People with hEDS may have: joint hypermobility loose, unstable joints that dislocate easily joint painandclicking joints extreme tiredness (fatigue) skin that bruises easily digestive problems, such as heartburn and constipation dizziness and an increased heart rate after standing up problems with internal organs, such as mitral valve prolapse or organ she also went through early menopause

 A/N: I really hope this is okay, I googled a little bit about EDS before I wrote this to try and write an accurate fic for you guys!

Word Count: 1182

Warnings : Angst, some fluff

Send me a Negan or Daryl prompt!xox

“What happened?” Daryl asked, his voice lapped with concern as he ran the back of his hand down your face with a feather light touch.

You shrugged through a strained yawn, your whole body protesting at the small movement. “It was nothing.”

“It was far from nothin’ Y/N,” Rick piped up as he strode into the room. “You fainted whilst on watch, bruised up your left side, caught your shoulder on the fall too, dislocated it.”

Daryl’s stern gaze bored into you, making you shrink further down under the covers, before his eyes snapped up to Rick’s.

“Yeah and why weren’t no one on watch with her?” he growled.

“Tobin was,” Rick answered, feeling uneasy under the hunter’s deadly stare. “He wasn’t quick enough to catch her.”

“Figures,” Daryl grunted. “Lumberjacks like him ain’t exactly the most agile.”

“Daryl it’s fine,” you spoke up softly, placing a weak hand on his forearm. “It’s no one’s fault.”

Daryl wanted to argue the matter, but he didn’t want to put your body under more stress than it was already in.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Rick eventually said, catching the door handle and shutting it behind him.

“It’s not the worst thing to have happened,” you said when Daryl offered up nothing more to the conversation. “I’ll be back on my feet by tomorrow.”

“The hell ya will,” Daryl almost snarled, but he managed to keep his voice gentle. “Yer ass needs ta rest.”

“There’s only so much rest can fix, this isn’t going away Daryl.”

Daryl knew you were right but for months he’d been in denial, trying to keep you wrapped in cotton wool, lead a sheltered life…but that wasn’t one you wanted. He didn’t mean to care about you as much as he did either, it just sort of…happened. From that first day he’d found you in the woods, practically on your deathbed, Daryl had stayed with you day and night, waiting to see if you’d wake up. Once you woke, it was like no one else in the goddamn world mattered. You’d told him of your condition, expecting him to show you the usual pity most did, but instead of seeing that familiar sympathy in his eyes, you saw admiration, and you came to learn that was not something Daryl Dixon often offered.

Daryl saw that there was more to you than just your condition, you were brave, generous, funny, sometimes even flirty (that one always caught him off guard). Although you two had never made anything official, you knew he was all but yours. He went out on countless runs at the beginning, looking for more pain medication, more blood pressure tablets, anything to alleviate the symptoms you were facing on a day to day basis.

You hated it. The thought of him putting his life on the line just to try and help you made you feel guilt to the pit of your stomach. It took a while but eventually he stopped going on so many runs, using that time to hang out with you instead, although you knew sometimes he was being over cautious, not trusting of anyone in case something bad did happen to you.

It had taken time to convince him that he needed to trust you, you wanted to help out, take watches, help garden, help teach the kids about knife safety. You needed a purpose, something more than sitting inside, wasting your days away with Daryl by your side, as much fun as it was.

He understood your need for freedom, berating himself for trying to control you. You told him you didn’t see it as him trying to control you, he just cared for you, and that was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Daryl blushed and ducked his head when you said it, murmuring an affirmation, saying he cared more than you knew.

You couldn’t help but fall in love with him after that, in the short space of a few months he’d become your best friend, someone you’d trust with your life. He wasn’t big on the verbal admission but his actions reflected that he felt the same. Gentle face caresses when he had to leave for runs; his hand searching out yours when you were walking side by side; him valiantly scooping you into his arms and plopping you softly onto your bed each evening, his excuse being he thought you might have been a bit tired. He knew that wasn’t the case, he just revelled in the feeling of you nuzzling into his hard form, kissing him on the cheek before he retired to his own room.

“I don’t know what I can do to stop it Y/N,” Daryl whispered, bringing you out of your wandering thoughts.

“You can’t stop it,” you murmured, letting a hand sift through his long hair. “I’m okay.”

“But what if next time yer not?” he asked in a pained expression, his eyes like a wounded puppy dog.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Same could be said for you. We live in the apocalypse Daryl, no one knows if they’ll be here tomorrow. Stop worrying about the ‘what ifs’ and just be here in the now, please.”

Your begging tone made his eyes snap up to yours, a small nod following after.

Your hand that was tangled in his hair came down to cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb tracing his cheekbone.

Daryl couldn’t help himself, he turned into your touch, skin tingling at the feather light touch of your fingers running across his face, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm, lips trailing back and forth.

You felt a jolt of electricity spark through your veins at his caress, acting on instinct as you tugged at his jaw, ushering his face closer to your own.

Daryl quickly understood what you were doing, no words exchanged between you as he tilted his head gradually towards yours. You could feel your heart fluttering, in the best way possible, as Daryl’s eyes closed, breaching the last of the distance between you.

His lips were soft and willing, moving with slow, deep movements that had you yearning for more.

His hand skimmed the side of your neck, holding you close to him as he finally pulled away.

“I love you.” The words were out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think about them and you wanted to face palm yourself for even allowing them to slip free.

“Love ya too, Y/N,” he rasped with a quirk of a smile, noticing the blush tinting your cheeks.

You grinned widely at his words, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Ya really do need ta rest now though,” he said noting the moon high in the sky from the infirmary window, reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll be here when ya wake,” he promised.

You finally conceded, listening to your body that was already trying to lull you to sleep, turning on your good side to face Daryl with your eyes closed, a smile gracing your lips as Daryl intertwined his fingers with yours.

[i-can-see-the-stars]

Would you be my partner?

Well here I am, making this for the first time. Oh boi...

First of all, a few things you need to know.

1) My english sucks.

2) I don’t know anything about dancing.

3) My writing sucks.

4) I don’t know how to title things.

So this maybe is as shitty as I think I am, but #YOLO @doodle-booty’s Hip Hop AU is everything and I really wanted to write something for it. So this is all I got.

Sorry.

I hope you really enjoy it!

At his 22 years of life, Viktor Nikiforov didn't have a lot of regrets. Quite the opposite, he was living his dream being part of a great and famous studio of dancing and one of the most amaizings dancers of his age. Hip hop was his live since he was just little and the way he move always atracced people. True, some people would say his style was a little feminine (some would say a lot) but it was they way he found more confortable to dance since he was a little skinny boy. Even now, being taller and a little bit more broader, his style didn't change a lot being the feminine moves a very strong trait during his routines. 

Everyone in the industry were starting to know the name of Viktor Nikiforov and a lot of attention was drawn not only to him but to the studio as well. That was the reason why Yakov pulled him apart after the End of Year exhibition the studio always held. A gala was coming soon and it was a good oportiounity for him to show up, show the hole world the great dancer he was. But he needed a partner, that's what Yakov told him; a partner and a routine. The last one wasn't so big of a problem, he already had a couple he's been working on with, but a partner? He never needed one in the past nor he thought he would ever need. But Yakov's words were clear "A partner, Vitya. You need one, look for someone good". 

Yeah, but who? 

That's what it brought him to the little party the studio offer after the exhibition, he used to come to this parties a lot when he was younger but stopped a couple years ago, after starting to dance alone for most of the exhibitions. The room they were using was filled with a lot of teenagers and some people of his age, ones with familiars faces others who he couldn't recognise. But he soon spotted the woman he was looking for, in one corner near the entrance just by the table with the foods and drinks, dressed with a formality she only have those nights when she was not dancing but presenting.

- Minako -

The japanese woman turn her head towards him, a red cup in her hand and flashing a big knowing smile.

- By that look, I asume Yakov already talk to you -

She shrug nonclanty, taking a sip of her drink (which he was certain didn't have coke).

- He may have come to me a couple days ago with a new or two. He was pretty excited -

He sighed, offering a tiny smiles when the woman offered him a cup and he gladly took it. Viktor drank a little (beer, he knew it) and placed himself besides her, looking at the rest of the room. Fortunately not many people noticed him there, mostly keeping their eyes on the center of the room where a few of them were dancing. A boy with blonde hair and lock of red in the front was in the middle of what he belive where the beginners class, they boy didn't just outstand just for his hair but also for the energy he had when dancing. Even if his movement weren't perfect, the smile he had show how much joy and fun he was having. It make Viktor smile, that boy was certanly something.

- So... See something you like yet? -

The voice of his ex-teacher brought him with her again, tearing his sight from the boy who just ended his dance Viktor shake his head, drinking a little more of beer.

- Not yet, a little recommendation? -

The older woman give him a side glance, a smile forming behind her cup. A little scream attracted everyone attention again to the center, it seemed like a little fight between a couple of boys or more like one trying to be drag to the center of the room by two older boys.

- LET GO YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!! I SWEAR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!! -

Well, that was quite a mouth for a teenage. The blonde had a deep scowl on his face and looked like he was pretty serious about his threats. Viktor gave the woman besides him a significant glance. Was she not gonna intervene?

- Oh c'mon Yura! -

- Are you afraid you're gonna lose? -

- DON'T CALL ME LIKE THAT, YOU DRUNK PIGGY! AND IT'S FUCKING ON CHULANONT! -

People started to cheer for them, backing up to give them more space some even take sit on the floor, smiley and excited faces going all along the younger ones. The three of them stood facing each other, he recognise the blonde one as Yuri Plisetsky, one of the new Yakov's protege, but he didn't know who the other boys were. The dark skinned boy with a red cap handed his cellphone to one of the teenages who were sitting there, telling him something to wich he nodded.

- Leo! Do your magic! -

The last one of the three, a cheerful boy with glasses called out to the DJ who thumb up with a smile, already changing the music. The undeniable voice of Bruno Mars filled the room, making everyone excited.

- Hands down, boys. This is my jam -

Phichit, as he would later found out his name, took the place in the middle flashing a bright smile, starting to clap and easly getting everyone to go with him. When he started to dance people around him were already in tune with the way he moved, Phichit movements followed the music and the lyrics of the song effortless. Viktor had to admit the boy was a really good performancer, even if his movements were pretty simples they drown the public to enjoy the rutine. One could see it in the way people cheered for him after he finished, bowing to everyone and even winking to the cameras.

Glasses boy was clapping with enthusiams, when Yuri on the other hand looked pretty unimpressived. The music changed again and a rapid beat cut everyone cheers, making the young blonde smile. He started to walk to the center while the other boy retrocede letting him the space.

- You two are fucking down -

At that moment Viktor undertood why Yakov had take the young Russian under his wing, there were no dening the boy had talent. Yuri moved like he owned the place and eveyone there, a little bit agresive maybe but a with confident that pour from every pore of his body. Quite the opposite to Phichit's relax and funny moves, Yuri's were fast and intense with a great force for someone that small. Viktor remembered what Yakov told him about the boy once, he was from  humble family and learned to dance in the streets. He could tell for some of his moves, they weren't clean but he knew that with more practice Yuri would become a great dancer. After he last jump all the cheers were for the little Russian and Viktor himself was smiling too, the blonde was too pleased with himself.

- Take that, losers! -

Everyone could tell Yuri had beat Phichit with that routine, there was not denying on that, but the other boy didn't seem too down for that fact, he was still smiling and that just grow wider when he turn to see the last one of the three. Glasses boy was clapping again and start to approche the blonde with a smile.

- Yura! That was awesome! -

- I told you not to call me so friendly, you drunk man! -

The brunette simply laughed a little bit, seemed unaffected for the glaring the teen was giving him.

- Now could you hold this for me? Thank you. Leo you know wich I want! -

The music started to play while he was shoving the angry teen with his glasses to the side, it was not a song Viktor knew but apparently some of the people there already knew it. The blonde boy with the red dye hair was cheering the most with hearts in his eyes, while Phichit already had his phone back ready to record everything. The brunette started to slowly move to the center again, a smile different from the cheerful one he had seconds ago, he turn and Viktor was surprise when he locked eyes with him. His breath hitched a little bit, was he biting his lip?

Then he started to dance.

And Viktor lost it.

He undertood why the blonde teen hed cheered so much, Glasses boy was good. Really good. The way he moved maked it seem easy and at the same time you couldn't tear your eyes from him. His movements were so smooth and inviting that Viktor felt the need to go and join him. In fact, he didn't realise he was getting closer to him until he was right in front with the rest of the crowd. Being closer let him have a better view of the boy, he had a cute face definitely younger than him, with a little pink blush covering his face but he didn't seem tired at all. Viktor gulped, feeling his own cheeks flustered and covered it behind his hand. He wasn't even that explicit but the way he was moving was making him daze.

But all too soon for Viktor's liking the dance ended and Glasses boy was smiling at him. Cheers and shouts surrounded him but he didn't mind them at all, for him all that mattered was the smiley boy in front of him who danced like whe mas making music with his body. And boy, he really wanted to keep seeing him do that. Glasses boy was tackled by the dark skinned dancer in a hug and soon his cellphone was up, taking as many selfies he could get. Viktor blinked trying to get out of the daze he was and didn't boubt when he started approching the two of them. Phichit seemed to recognised him when he steped out of the crow, looking surprised to see him but all his attention was in the other boy, who blinked at him with confusion making him all too adorable.

- Would you be my partner? -

He blout out without thinking, extending a hand to him and making one of his trading smiles. Silence fall into all the room and the cute boy just blinked, looking more confused than before. Yeah, maybe he should have started with a better presentation. But before he could start all over and explain himself the boy flashed him a smile that make Viktor go weak on his knees, and his heart started pouding faster.

- Yeah, sure -

Needless to say that after Yuuri recovered his glasses from Yuri, all the dizziness he had beacuse of the few beers Phichit made him drink left when he realised he had just accepted to be the partner of no other than Viktor Nikiforov, his long time idol (and crush).

Phichit recored all that.

Yeah, and that’s all. 

If you’re interested, this are the routines I have in mind when writing this (you guys realise i can’t write dance battles too, right?)

Minani - Phichit - Yura - Yuuri

Like I say before my english sucks, so if you see any mistake please please tell me, I would really apreciate it!