eljimadorcities

[magicicephoenix]

funny that it took until batdr to come out for me to actually learn how to draw this guy

[muzzlemouths]

I'm glad I didn't die before I met you (this is the first day of my life)

Ten years have passed since you first brought Sun and Moon into your home (and to that extent, your life), and as it happens, today is your anniversary. You talk about the past and reminisce the best of your memories, your love persisting even in the midst of a storm.

After all, you aren't going to let anything dampen your special day.

Sun & Moon centric // Wordcount: 8000 // AO3 Vers.

You check and double-check the ingredients for the umpteenth time to ensure that everything is there and in its place. The pasta is set out in its neat little box on the counter, sat beside two wine glasses and a dreamy chocolate cake. The homemade sauce - an old family recipe - waits patiently in the fridge beside a biscuit tin and potatoes for roasting, eager for its time to shine.

A rather fancy dinner that only one of you could fully enjoy, but they both assured you they didn’t mind pretending for the sake of such a special night. You had joked about recreating the trademark spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp, and Sun returned the humor by stating that you could always tape one side of the noodle to his mouth (anything to make you happy) which had you both in a fit of giggles. Tonight meant the world to you - all of you.

It was your anniversary, after all.

Sun himself was outside, for now, tending to the garden. You could see him from the kitchen window, bowed over your tomato plant and speaking with it fondly, a habit you grew to expect - and love, for that matter - even if it did take him ages to get from one crop to the next because he couldn’t resist striking up a conversation with each leaf.

He says something or other to a tomato smaller than the rest (a gentle encouragement, if you had to guess) before straightening up and looking your way, evidently having felt the eyes on his back. Not that he minds; rather, he looks to you with a broad smile and waves, beckoning you to him. You laugh, shaking your head, and humor his wishes.

The sky is somewhat overcast when you make it outside. Not stormy by any means, but a broad enough cloud coverage to keep you mostly in the shade as you make your way to his side, a gentle breeze accompanying it. “What are you still doing out here?” You ask him with a smile, “It’s getting dark already, you know. Our garden needs sleep as much as I do.”

Smiling, he waves you off and instead bends at the knees, gesturing toward the tomato plant. “Look at this!” He beams, pointing out one specific tomato, “It wasn’t nearly this big just a few days ago. It’s doubled in size practically overnight!”

Your own knees bend with an aged groan and you crook an eyebrow, looking in the direction he points to find the runt of the bunch. Sure enough, it’s grown to be quite the shiner since Sun first began giving it special attention. “Well would you look at that,” you give it a whistle, “I guess constructive criticism works on plants, too.”

“No criticizing here!” Sun corrects with a sharp grin, “Just good ol’ fashioned tender loving care , is all.”

“And a healthy dose of Vitamin D straight from the source,” you snicker. He doesn’t immediately get it, so you jab a lighthearted finger right in the center of his chest, “You know,” then turn it upward, “the sun?”

A short beat, then he’s bent over with laughter and pretending to wipe a tear from his eye, “Hardy har har,” he sneers through a smile, “very clever, sunflower. I’m afraid that particular ability isn’t quite in my skillset.”

You give him a shrug, “I’m not so sure,” a casual hum, “you always brighten my day.” (I love you)

Another beat, quiet as the sky, and you swear he blushes red as the roses behind him, “Flatterer,” comes his reply, “but the sun has nothing to shine on if not their favorite flower,” sweet as honey and twice as smooth, “don’t you think so?” (I love you)

“Hey now, mister,” you waggle a finger in his face, a poor attempt at hiding your own cheeks, “I was trying to compliment you , you know, don’t go turning it around on me now.” Your head shakes back and forth and a sigh escapes you as he responds to your taunts with more laughter. Just past him, the rosebush dances in the wind. You march past him and towards it, reaching in blindly, “Do you know what today is?”

“Of course,” he follows, a new shadow enveloping you from behind. Sun’s arms wrap around your waist and he sets his chin against the top of your head, “It’s our anniversary, love. Did you think I forgot?”

“Not at all,” you hum, “maybe I just like hearing you say it.” Your hand upturns the petals on a rose in full bloom, admiring it fondly. Sun had planted these himself. Something nips at your palm, and drawing it away from the bush reveals the smallest bead of crimson.

Sun tsks behind you, reaching for your hand before anything can be said. He brings it above your head and plants a kiss just beside the spot. “A temporary fix,” he tells you with a wink, “until we get you a proper band-aid.”

You turn, slow, to face him. He releases you only to catch your hands again once you’re in front of him, gathering them in his own hands and giving a gentle squeeze, then raising both to kiss at your knuckles. You look away, fumbling for a moment. “You’re always such a sap,” you tell him in a whisper, “come on, you’re going to make me do something I regret.”

“Oh?” With a devilish look in his eyes, he once again raises your hands to his face and, this time, he kisses every finger one by one, sneaking a look in your direction after each, “What about now?”

A whimper escapes you, soft and fond, you melt under his eager touch. Then all at once you pull away from his grip and surround his own wrists, tugging him down to your level for a proper kiss.

He is warm against you, an embrace you never want to leave, but eventually you find yourself needing air.

Winding back, breathless, you look at him with a half-lidded expression.

He returns it with a gaze like he’s mesmerized, still leaning into you, he smiles at you as though he’s looking at a work of art, “Do you regret that?”

“No,” you whisper in reply, finding yourself driven forward for seconds, “not at all.”

One of his hands wiggles free and wraps around you, cradling at the small of your back and pulling you in close until you’re fully pressed against him, and he returns the kiss with a third - just to the left of your lips - then another at your cheek, and your jaw, another still, at your nose and then your forehead, and ten more everywhere in between until you’re squeaking with giggles and forcibly pushing him away.

But he isn’t done. “It’s our anniversary,” he repeats, grabbing for your other hand and crossing his fingers between yours, “ten years, you know.”

“I know,” you smile, “I just said as much, didn’t I?”

“You also said you liked to hear it,” he reminds you. His fingers unwind a moment after, drawing yours upward in a similar manner before pressing your hands palm-to-palm, his dwarfing your own. “So much has changed since the day we met,” he says, stars in his eyes, “your hands were so very soft, back then,” his fingers curl over the top of yours, “now they’re tough from years of work, calloused from the garden,” they intertwine, again, and he goes out of his way to brush over the ring, “so much is different, now,” his eyes find you again, and he’s choked back, “I’m so glad I was there to see it.”

It catches you off guard. Even — if not especially — after all these years, he knows just how to strike straight for the heart. “Hey, none of that. If you start crying I will, too!” You whine at him, but you don’t stop him or dare pull away, instead you tug his hand (still warmly in yours) against your cheek and brush a kiss to his palm from there, “I’m glad, too,” you whisper after a moment, “I can’t imagine my life without you now,” you give it a gentle squeeze, “both of you.”

He somehow goes softer at the kiss, his other hand raising to cradle your cheek, “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure you could have done better than us,” he insists with a halfhearted chuckle, “you always impressed us, I bet you could have anyone you wanted.”

“What if the person I want is you?”

He pauses, eyes widening as though you’ve confessed for the very first time, and not the tenth, or hundredth, or thousandth, and it puts his new hardware to work; from where you’re standing, up against his heart, you can see the faintest puddle of artificial tears beginning to form under his eyes. “Well,” he sniffles despite the lack of an actual nose and leans in, touching his forehead to yours, “I suppose I can’t argue with that, can I?”

“Mmmhm,” you hum against him, closing your eyes, “I don’t regret choosing you, not ever,” you promise, “if I could go back in time and do it all over again I would, and I would choose you every time.”

Sun had always been sentimental. His new ability to shed tears didn’t change that, only made it more obvious, so you aren’t at all surprised by the trickle of them kissing your cheeks from where he’s pressed against you. “Thank you,” he says softly, “it’s the same for us. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Then a bubbling of laughter escapes him, tickling your ear, and he hushes the internal monologue of, ‘ WIll you two get a room already’ from Moon who, for all intents and purposes, can’t be seen with his face in his hands, blushing with twice the ferocity of either of you.

“Besides,” you continue, finally taking the time to pull away so you can view him in full, “if you want to talk nostalgia, we can’t forget how you used to scare away any potential partners,” you poke him gently between the eyes, “ both of you. Don’t think I never noticed.”

‘Uh oh’

“You knew?” He squeaks in return, “It was a bad habit, I’ll admit, a-and if you ever told us to stop we would have. Right away!”

“I know,” you nod, “but I didn’t mind it,” and a sneaky grin comes to your face, “maybe I even enjoyed it a little. Seeing you two get a little jealous.”

“I’m not sure that’s the correct word for it,” he laughs. Possessive is a truer way to put it, but the feeling had never culminated in anything more than puppy guarding you from strangers (and lying about your relationship status from time to time). “Alright, what about the first time we confessed,” he says, “if we’re reminiscing, and all. Do you remember?”

“Of course I do,” you tell him, “it was right before I got you out of that damn pizzaplex—”

“Language, please.”

You chuckle, “—and again immediately after, like just the once wasn’t enough. You and I were laying in my backyard and—”

“You were teaching me how to spot the clouds,” he finishes for you with an enamored smile, “it made me happy just to be outside, but even more that it was you who brought me there. You pointed out a cloud that looked like a heart—”

“You said it was yours,” now your own eyes begin to sting, your emotions threatening to spill over in the moment, “you told me you loved me. Over and over, until I was sure of it.”

“And I’ll do it again,” he muses, finding your hands in his still, as though you’ll never let go, “I love you,” he says, soft as his heart, “I love you more than the clouds and the birds and all the rainbows in the sky, I love you more than I have the capacity to say.”

You pull one of your own hands away to rub at your eye, and a minute later his follows, gently stopping your hand from the act so he can brush the tears aside with his own thumb. You chuckle beneath his touch with a melty whine, “Look what you’ve done,” you tease, “now we’re both crying.”

An idea strikes you then, and you’re quick to act on it, taking his hand in yours and swiftly pulling him away from the rose bush and out of the garden entirely. Just outside of it is where you flop down onto your back, dragging him with you, and the grass catches your bodies with a soft thump.

“What are we doing?” He asks you with some laughter.

“Cloudspotting!” You say like it’s obvious. Lifting your chin, you look to the sky and point out a particularly odd looking shape. “Look, there! That one looks like a dog.”

He follows where you point. “I see it,” Sun hums, then points to one just beside it himself, “What about this one? It’s like a big oak tree.”

“You’re right! And just under it, that flat cloud with the whisps by it” — your grin broadens, “that could be a tree swing. I used to have one as a kid.” You look across the sky, seeing what else you can find, “Oh, what about that one?” Your finger points just over his head, “It looks kind of like a butt,” you giggle over the idea of it, “don’t you think?” but you hear nothing in return. Eventually, you turn to look at him, “Sun?”

He isn’t playing, anymore. Rather, his eyes are set fondly on you. How long had he been watching you like that?

“Hey, I can’t play this by myself,” you gently jab an elbow against him, hoping to distract from the color rising, again, to your cheeks, “You can’t just stare at me all day, you know.”

“I can’t?”

“No!” You laugh, turning back to the sky, now, “Here, look at this one. I think it could be a car. One of those old fashioned ones.”

Again, there’s no response, but a half-second later your view of the sky is obscured as Sun rolls over and on top of you (careful to avoid crushing you) and leans in with a sly smile, “What about now?” He cooes, “See anything special?”

You bite back another laugh, “Well of course,” you tell him with a nod, “I see the one and only sun, in fact. The most beautiful star in the sky.”

“Mm,” a tint returns to his cheeks, “flattery will get you no where, dewdrop,” despite this, he closes the distance between you and presses a heartfelt kiss to your lips, only deepening it when he feels you embrace both sides of his face with your hands and draw him in closer.

“I dunno,” you hum between breaths, “I think it got me somewhere.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he draws away to look at you, doe-eyed, and it looks like he has more to say, but he freezes before any words spill out, and blinks down at you with a confused expression.

“What?” You stuff down your disappointment in the moment being interrupted, “Is something wrong?”

“I think—” his expression sours into a squint, “I think the sky spit on me.” His faceplate lifts to the sky to get a better look, and the result is immediate; as soon as he’s not there to shield you, a drop of rain lands right in your eye.

“Oh, shit —”

“Language”

“Sunny, it’s raining!” You sit up to your elbows, “I thought it wasn’t supposed to rain until tomorrow.”

He swipes a finger over his mouth (as though that does anything) and holds it up to the sky, “Maybe a shift in the wind,” he tells you with a hum, “it might have brought the storm in faster than expected.”

“Oh, are you a meteorologist now?”

He faces you again with a lighthearted scoff, “Just making observations,” he says, and he climbs off of you in one fell swoop, extending a hand in your direction, “come on, let’s get inside before it comes down any harder.”

“I’m sure it’s just a sprinkle,” you say, taking the offered hand and allowing him to hoist you up by it, “but I don’t feel like getting rained on so uh, yeah, let’s head inside.”

Thunder booms overhead. Sun flinches, sticking to you like glue, and you help each other make a mad dash inside as the rain turns from a drizzle to a downpour in the blink of an eye. 

Once inside, Sun reaches for your nearest towel (the rag that hangs over your oven handle) and begins to wordlessly dab away the water on your skin despite dripping all over the floors himself.

You put a hand over his to stop him, “Do you have any idea how badly I need to throw that rag in the wash?” You ask with a chuckle, “I want to go take a hot shower anyway. Stay here and I’ll get a proper towel to dry you off with.”

“And then dinner?” Sun asks with an eager expression.

“You’ve got to wait a bit longer for that,” you tell him, “it’s not for a few more hours, still, and I have homework to do until then.”

It’s not a sentence you ever thought you would catch yourself saying again, but as luck would have it you decided some years ago to give college another go. It isn’t a decision you regret, even if the homework is a lot - as an understatement - and the deadlines remind you of years spent in teenage panic.

Sun helps. He was more than eager to offer his help, in fact, and his constant encouragement is what keeps you going most days. Right on cue, he dabs one last time at the inside of your wrist, and kisses the spot of skin soon after, “I’ll get the book out,” he tells you.

You answer with a fond nod, “Alright, you sap. Let me go get you that towel.”

-

Somewhere between you getting in the shower and getting out of the shower, Sun left a fresh towel (warm from the dryer) right where you could reach it. You give the act a fond shake of your head before getting dressed, heading out of the bathroom and down the hallway, where you see him preparing a cup of tea for your study session.

You’re used to microwaving it and popping a bag in, but somewhere in the last ten years Sun insisted on a kettle, and you were hard pressed to argue. Now, him making you tea before you sit down to study each evening has become something of a routine. Intricate rituals, and all that.

“What is it today?” You ask.

He looks up from the cup, where he’s just finished stirring in a spoonful of honey, “Chamomile,” he answers, “thought you might like to relax after your shower.”

“Mm, I didn’t know we had any of that left,” your hands cup around the mug, bringing it to your lips. You blow on the drink until some of the steam dissipates, then take a slow and careful sip, coming back with a smile, “Perfect as always,” you tell him. “Thank you for the towel, as well. It was a nice surprise.”

Sun beams at the compliment, “Well, you know I’m good at surprises,” he answers, then gestures for your livingroom, your homework book already fitted snugly under his arm. “Shall we?”

He politely leads you to the couch and takes your tea, and sets it on the coffee table to the side, then takes a seat on the couch and happily pats his lap with an expectant (and hopeful) grin. You humor him with a roll of your eyes, and lay down on the couch in your usual study position — that is, with your head in his lap.

Here, he opens up the book to your bookmarked page and begins to read its contents for the current chapter, the heavy pitter patter of rain outside easily becoming background noise.

This goes on for a couple chapters. Sun reads the page and every so often asks you a question, and you discuss the lesson with the occasional break to sip tea and take notes. You flip on a lamp as the sky darkens with time, the rain raging on outside, without a care. You’re pleasantly warm right where you’re at and more than content to stay that way even as Sun closes the book to end that day’s study session. In fact, you have half a mind to find a blanket and nap just like that until dinner time.

Unfortunately, the weather has other plans.

A more violent gust of wind rushes against the windows, whistling against the frames. Sun looks up towards it with a concerned expression that you’re quick to hush away with a squeeze of his hand. “Just the wind,” you assure him, “the windows will hold just fine.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he admits with a sigh, “it’s getting awfully dark out there, don’t you think?”

“Sun,” you give him a quizzical look without moving from your spot, “it’s evening, remember. The time it normally gets dark?”

“You know what I mean,” he tuts, reaching down to honk your nose, “it’s darker than usual. The rain is really picking up, and now the wind is at our door. Isn’t it dangerous?”

You shrug, not really caring, “We’re safe inside, Sunny, I promise.” Your words apparently bring him little comfort, given the sour expression he gives you, “But if it would make you feel better I can go check the weather report, see where that big bad storm’s headed next.”

This brings the smile back to his face, “It would bring me some relief to know we aren’t in the thick of it, yes,” he answers you honestly, “but don’t be too long, or I’ll start to worry the storm got you.”

Your laugh is punctuated with another roll of your eyes, “Alright, alright, let me up then.”  It’s figurative, said in jest as he’s not actually holding you down in the slightest, however, not one to miss an opportunity, Sun suddenly doubles down and wraps his arms around you right as you’re readying to stand up from the couch. 

He brings your back to his chest, pulling you into a full sit in his lap, and covers the back of your neck in kisses everywhere he can reach, quickly reducing you to a fit of laughter as you squirm to get away.

“Quit it!” You shrill around the attack, “Come on, do you want me to go check the news or not?”

“Just a few more,” he promises, and suddenly he’s standing, hoisting you into a bridal hold and going at your upper body with a fervor, laying down a smooch on any exposed skin he can find until you’re shrieking with laughter and playfully batting him away, a fruitless endeavor that only makes him work faster.

“C-Come on—” your feet kick at him, hands pushing against his face.

“Mm!”

“Sun—” you gasp for air, “ Sunny— ”

“Not done!”

He peppers another few at your jaw, then another dozen down your chest, bringing your belly in close—

and blowing the biggest, sloppiest raspberry against it.

“Hey!” You shriek, “Enough, enough you big goof! You’re going to make me pass out. Put me down!”

“As you wish~” he cooes, and just as soon he’s dropping you from a few feet above to the plush couch below, where you land with an oof and a soft thud, your head spinning as you come back into focus and glare him down with a not-really-mad expression. “Now, about that weather report?” He grins like he hadn’t just been the one keeping you from it, “I’m going to get a head start on dinner while you’re at it.”

“Mhm,” you scoff, not entirely convinced that he isn’t getting on the task solely to keep you from seeking retaliation. “I’ll get you back for that, mister, mark my words.”

He gives you a wink. You return it with a softening smile. With that, you escape behind him and turn down the hall, and head for your bedroom so you can flip to the weather channel for a quick and easy idea of what’s coming your way. 

You dig around for the missing remote for a minute to the sounds of Sun getting into the pots and pans in the kitchen. A minute later you find it, hit the button, flip the channels, land on the right one, and—

Oh.

Oh no.

Leaving the tv as is, you quickly make your way down the hallway again, ready to swallow your pride and admit that Sun may have been more right than you wanted to believe. 

“Hey so, about that storm--”

It’s then that a particularly loud rumble of thunder echos overhead and instantly, your lights flicker, then go kerpoof , launching the house into total darkness.

Evidently, the power has blown out.

“Well that’s just great,” you sigh from the hallway. Maybe your plans for dinner tonight would be getting an update. “Su—” you stop yourself before the name is fully out, thinking better of it as the situation fully dawns on you. “Moon…?”

“Here,” comes his gravely voice from a few meters away. There’s a flash of lightning from the window, and in the brief time it illuminates your kitchen you can see his form — brandishing a knife, of all things — then your perception of him is again reduced to the trademark crimson glow.

You squint in his direction, taking a few measured steps forward, and blindly, in the dark, “Do you wanna tell me why you’ve got a knife, buddy?”

“Are you scared?” He cooes, much closer now, “Think I’ll do something mean?”

“Hardly,” you snort in return. After ten years, there’s not a single part of you that’s scared of Moon anymore, knife or not. “Seriously, though. Why the weapon?”

“Was cutting potatoes,” he answers from the dark. “Well, Sun was. Then the power—”

“Yeah,” you interrupt him with a sigh, “it’s an ongoing issue.” 

Reaching into your back pocket, you retrieve your phone and turn on the flashlight, careful not to shine it immediately in Moon’s direction. Sure enough, there’s a cutting board out on the counter and two potatoes already thinly sliced for roasting. It looks like the lights went out as he was getting started on the third.

Moon lowers the knife and settles it against the cutting board with a quiet tap. He’s squinting just beside you, attempting not to look your flashlight in the eyes. “Guess we’re taking a raincheck on dinner,” he says — and you don’t need to see his cheeky grin to know it’s there, “Get it? Rain check?”

“Ha, ha, very funny” you roll your eyes.

 He points toward you a second later, his finger showing up in the thin stripe of light, “Any way you can turn that thing down?”

“No can do, knife boy,” you shake the phone a little for emphasis, “This is the only light source I’ve got. Unless there’s a secret nightlight mode you’ve kept hidden from me all these years.”

“Maybe if I still had my uniform--”

“Oh come on, are you still mad at me about that?”

“The stars glowed in the dark, remember?”

“It had holes , Moon. Both of your uniforms did. Remember that ?”

He answers you with a clipped grunt, shrugging, “What about candles, then? You’ve gotta have one or two around here. Easier on the eyes.”

The suggestion makes you pause. True, candles would certainly be perfect for this exact situation (romantic, too), and you knew for certain there were a handful of them lying around your house, but… “Are you sure?” Your phone lowers slightly, allowing him the chance to look you in the eyes, “That’s a lot of fires at once, even if they're just little ones.”

Another shrug, this one heavier. It’s obvious he gave it some thought. “Nothing we can’t handle,” he assures you, “besides, anything is better than being blinded by your phone.” There’s a pause, then his teeth rise into a smirk, “You know, I can see just fine in the dark. I could always lead you around—”

“No, no, that’s alright,” You wave at him, “candles it is.”  Swiveling on your heel (and taking the light with you, much to his relief) you head out in search of enough candles to light at least the most important rooms until the power comes back on.

You manage to find most of them in your bedroom, the majority having been ones you bought but could never bring yourself to light. There’s two more in the bathroom, one in the cupboard, and a whole box of cheap tea lights in your closet. Now all that was left to do was find the lighter, and that’s where the real challenge was.

In the kitchen, Moon can be heard putting away dinner (or what was started of it, anyway), and apparently working on a worthwhile replacement. You thought about just ordering a pizza, but you’d never forgive yourself for doing that to the delivery guy.

You’ve looked in every nook and cranny for the stupid thing by the time you head down the hallway again, searched high and low for a lighter you know you own, and have found yourself right back in the kitchen and rooting through the cabinets there. 

Just as you’re readying to give up on the search, you hear a familiar click from the kitchen, and turn to look over your shoulder from where you’re crouched in front of the cabinets to see a tiny flame beside two red eyes. “Looking for something?” He asks with a low chuckle.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact,” you take it from him with a scoff, “Where was it?”

“Kitchen drawer,” he shrugs, “first one.”

“Of course.” You look back to your phone again and check the battery level, grimacing as your eyes read a weak 22%. “Shit, I forgot how much the flashlight drains my battery.” You decisively turn it off, for now, “Wouldn’t be such an issue if I could charge my phone, but with the power out…” you squint into the darkness, attempting to make out the group of candles that had been laid out on the counter, “Maybe I could light one, and then carry that one around while I light the others—”

“I could help,” Moon says, stopping you mid-thought. 

Your weight shifts from foot to foot, a nervous fidget, “How would you do that?” You ask, “I can’t see a thing like this, Moon.”

The light of his eyes illuminates his expression, easing it into something fond, “You will just have to trust me, then,” he tells you softly, “here, let me show you,” and he comes up behind you, reaching around through the darkness to take your hand, resting his own overtop. He guides you, blind, to the wick, and you trust him enough to not flinch when you hear the lighter click , his fingers over yours and shielding you from the flame’s small heat.

“There, see?” His head dips to whisper into your hair, then falls an inch or so, and he presses a kiss against your ear.  You go rosy beneath it. 

 “How chivalrous of you,” comes your reply, “I’m not convinced you aren’t just trying to show off that special night vision of yours.” 

The smell of vanilla lavender wafts through the air, this little flame easily illuminating your countertop on its own. You breathe in deep, then exhale with a smile.

“Me? Showing off?” He sneers against your ear, “ Never . I’m only trying to help, starlight.”

“Mmhm… and do you expect to ‘help’ me this way with the other fifteen candles, too?” You scoot it forward on the counter, safely tucked away.

“Well,” another kiss presses against the rim of your ear, then a second to your temple, “I’m not sure there’s any other way around it. Is there?”

“I suppose not,” you hum yourself, smiling softer against each kiss.

“Besides,” his thumbs swipe smooth circles over the back of your skin, “this way I get to hold your hands for as long as I’d like.”

Your chin raises to look directly upward, finding his eyes, “Don’t get all mushy on me, now,” you chastise with small laughter, “if you go and say something like that I’ll start to think you cut the power just to spend time with me. You know you can always just ask to hold hands, right? Really, the storm isn’t necessary—”

“Hush,” his neck turns, face meeting yours as he shuts you up with a kiss square on the lips. He keeps you there, hands in yours and arms wrapped at your waist until your neck is straining and your smile melts against his own.

Warmth pools in his cheeks and at your lips, radiating from behind his chest, and you shudder. Then you shiver. This time for an entirely different reason. Only then does he pull away, looking concerned.

“Just a little cold,” you reassure him, “I think the heater turned off with the power. I’ll grab a blanket from the closet before we have dinner.”

Moon nods, but he isn’t looking at you as he does. Instead, his eyes drift past the counter and into the livingroom, roaming the darkness where you’re left blind. “You know…” and he pauses, as though giving it a good amount of thought, “your house has a fireplace, doesn't it?”

You turn to your side so you can look at him - or what little you can see of him, anyway,  “Well, yeah,” you agree with a nod, “but that’s not one little flame, Moon. I mean, we’ve never done it—”

“I want to try,” he says - then, before you can argue, “Sun and I both. We’re ready to try.”

“I…” It’s a dangerous idea. You trust them to go at their own pace, and you had been - for years now - since the incident that first lead to you taking them away from the plex in the first place. But then there was the nightmares, the bad memories, the way that for years they would flinch at the sight of fire on a television screen or shy away from your oven when it grew too hot.

But Moon had braced you against this small, innocent flame, and he seemed sure. Somehow, they both did.

Maybe they were ready for the real thing, too.

“Alright,” you finally agree, “but if it gets too much, you have to tell me immediately, okay? That’s the only way I’ll agree.”

Moon smiles down on you and draws one of his hands from yours, extending only his pinky in your direction. “Promise,” he says. You shake on it. He brings another candle front and center. “Until then, I’m not letting go of your hand.”

You busy yourself with the fireplace as soon as your house isn’t covered in shadows. In a way, it looks nice like this. Romantic, even, if you ignored the storm raging dark outside.

A few yards away, Moon works in your kitchen to finish making up something for dinner. You’re still a little peeved about all your hard work going to waste, but Moon assured you it could be a special dinner for another day. Twice the dates , he said, and you found it hard to argue with that.

At last the embers catch onto the wood you’ve placed inside, and a warm, vivid fire consumes the small area in patterns of quick kindling. You lean back against your heels with a successful huff of breath. Moon watches from behind the counter, saying nothing, and you try your best not to stare at him for any sign of discomfort.

But a minute later he returns to you, not minding the fire in the slightest, now, and extends a plate from his hand.  A turkey sandwich — far from the fancy dinner you had planned — but he’s cut it into the shape of a heart.

“Happy anniversary,” he says, and it’s the most sincere he’s been all day, “sorry it’s not spaghetti. Best I could do.”

You take it with a wobbling smile, already feeling yourself on the brink of tears again as you stare down at its poorly trimmed shape, “It’s perfect,” you whisper.

In fact, you think it might be better than anything you could have planned.

He seems relieved to hear it, relaxing at the shoulders. Finally, he turns his head to look into the fire, not immediately saying anything, and you grow worried.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze returns and, with it, his smile, “Never better,” he says, and you think he really means it, “just admiring, is all.”

“The fire?” You ask, “Or…”

His smile turns toothy, riling into a knowing smirk that makes you warm at the cheeks. “Sure,” he says at last, “the fire, too.”

You rub at your face, willing away the color there, “Alright, romeo, calm down,” you tell him with a laugh. As you relax, the feeling blooming in your chest becomes a different kind of fond. “You know, it feels like just yesterday that you were setting up pretend fireplaces on my laptop. Do you remember that?”

“Hard to forget.” He closes the distance and sits down across from you, crossing his legs against the floor. “That was the year Sun burnt the cookies.”

“And the year you made me that sweater,” you remind him - a notion that finally has him looking away with a flush, “It’s a little worn now, but it’s still my favorite, you know.”

His cheeks glow under the light of his eyes, and he doesn’t fight them, instead looking toward the fire with a bashful smile. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he hears you. You know he’ll think about it for the rest of the night.

Feeling wholly content in having flustered him up, you finally take the time to dive into your turkey sandwich, enjoying the dinner twice as much as you thought you would. Moon remains silent as you do, and you don’t mind that. The crackling of the fireplace is enough between the two of you.

It isn’t until you finish up the last bite that he looks your way again, and when he does it’s with a small bout of laughter. He moves your plate out of the way and rests his knees in front of yours, then outstretches a hand and, smiling still, he gently dabs away a bit of condiment from the corner of your mouth.

It’s a silly move, and one that makes you feel entirely childish up until he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against the spot, wherein you feel yourself growing hot under the collar all over again.

He pulls away, but you catch him by the shirt. “You missed,” your reply comes before he has a chance to question it, hands winding tight in his collar, you bring him back to you for a proper kiss. Something soft, something tender, and you find the warmth in your chest against his rages so much hotter than the fire at your side.

He draws from you again, slouching lazily in your hold, and presses a smaller peck to your nose. “Now who’s the sap?” He tells you with a whisper. You only hum in reply. 

And you whine, a little, when he properly pulls away from you again, but you know you can’t keep him there forever. 

Still half-lidded yourself, you sigh wistfully and lean back against your wrists. “Well, what should we do now?”

“Go to sleep?” he says flatly.

You have half a mind to toss the plate at him, “Not happening,” you tell him through laughter, “we only just ate dinner, it’s still way too early for sleep. Come on, Moon, you’ve gotta have more ideas than that.”

“You’re always so picky,” he offers you a roll of the eyes. “Well, what’s your suggestion?”

“Tough luck, starlight. Looks like you landed on another licorice space. That means—”

“I know what it means.” You grumble, sticking your character in the same spot for the third consecutive time. “You know, when I suggested we play a board game I wasn’t expecting you to be so good at it.”

“Maybe I’ve just got a lucky hand,” he purrs, fanning himself with the card in his hand, “besides, you’re the one who chose Candy Land. You had every chance to pick a game you didn’t suck at.”

“Hey!” You pick up a spare gingerbread pawn and chuck it at him, smirking as it lands with a sharp metallic ting against his arm, “I’m still not convinced you’re playing fair. I don’t know how, but you’re definitely cheating.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He draws a card, grins, lays it on the table. Moves his piece forward nine steps.

“Oh, come on !” You toss your hands into the air, “How is that fair? I swear this is the fourth time you’ve pulled that card.”

“Starting to sweat yet, star?” He sneers, “We’ve been playing for an hour already, you might as well just admit defeat now and save yourself the dignity.”

“Dignity!” You scoff, drawing a card, “I’ll show you dignity!”

Two purples.

Your gingerbread pawn is forced back six squares.

Glowering deeply, you keep your eyes on the board so you don’t have to see the shit eating grin on his face.  “Not a word, star boy,” you hiss, “not a single fucking word.”

“I hadn’t said a thing,” he cooes, “I’m too busy taking measurements to bother watching you lose.”

The card wrinkles in your hand. Against your better judgment, your eyes snap to meet him, “Taking measurements?” You ask through gritted teeth, “For what?”

“My crown,” he’s quick to say, “you know, for when I reach Candy Castle.”

Your other hand tap tap taps against the board with methodical precision, the shadow of competitiveness overcoming you for a brief second like a werewolf resisting the call, “Oh you’ve done it now, buddy. I am coming for your ass.”

He laughs - it’s brighter than every candle, warmer than the fireplace - and it’s almost enough to make you relent. Almost. He draws a card and moves forward five spaces. “I have all the patience in the world, star,” he tells you, “I can wait here all day for you if needed.”

“Moon, so help me—”

“But hey, at least you’re handling your defeat well,” he continues, “I’ve seen children throw whole life-changing fits after losing this badly.”

You roll your eyes, “Well, I’m not a child,” you state with a blatant huff, “and frankly, you’ll never have to deal with that again.”

“Never?”

“Of course not,” you reach for another card, “ours will be raised better.”

You pick up the gingerbread pawn. Hold it mid-air. Suddenly, your eyes raise to find him staring open-mouthed in your direction. Oh.

“Our—”

“I-It’s your turn!” you’re quick to cover the tracks, but not quick enough. Moon sets a hand on yours so the pawn is settled against the board, and you relent, letting it go with a whine. “Moon, please,” you beg him, “can you just go?”

“I’m skipping my turn,” he says, “keep talking.”

“Well then I’ll go again!” You reach for another card with your other hand. 

He reaches forward, stopping this one in its tracks, too. He says nothing, this time, but instead curls both of your hands properly into his and gives them a squeeze. You know he’s looking at you, looking expectant , but you can’t bring yourself to raise your eyes from the board.

“Hey,” he whispers, and it’s so soft, so patient, that it finally draws your eyes to him, “if you’re really against it, you don’t have to tell me. We can drop it and keep playing the game,” he says, “but I—” and there’s a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I’d like to hear it. We both would.”

Oh, god. Both of them were listening?

You feel him give your hands another encouraging squeeze. There’s little point in hiding it now that the cat’s out of the bag, you suppose, but admitting to it this early still takes guts.

“I…I’ve been thinking about it, lately,” you confess, “the thought of having kids. Or — adopting, even. But,” your eyes shy away from him once more, guilty, they fall back to the board, “I was worried you wouldn’t like the idea. Like…maybe you’re tired of taking care of kids, you know? And you’re finally free of the obligation. I didn’t want to put that kind of responsibility on you again.”

You hold your breath, keeping it tight to your chest. For the longest time, only the fireplace fills the silence, its snapping embers keeping you company as Moon says nothing.

And then you hear it. Something so small and soft, you nearly miss it; a shaky breath. In, out. You finally dare to look up at him again.

He’s crying.

Not just a single tear, and not a puddle under his eye, but a smooth river that runs down his cheeks in even rhythm. Immediately, you worry you’ve said something to upset him terribly. The pain from that notion is relentless, stinging you sore, but you try to remedy the situation while you still can. “Fuck, I s-shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sor—”

“We’ve been waiting,” he cuts you off, as though suddenly finding his voice again after it was stolen from him, and he raises your hands together and against his wetted cheek, leaning into it, now, his smile returns with shaky courage, “we’ve been waiting for you to ask this whole time, star. Waiting for you to say something.”

All at once, relief floods you, the breath returning to your lungs like a mighty gust of wind, and for the first time that day you finally let your own tears fall as heavily as they please.

“Why didn’t you say anything!” You ask through the sniffles.

“We didn’t want to rush you,” he gives your hands another squeeze, “but we wanted to, Sunshine. Each day, we wanted to.” The name catches you, and your confusion must be obvious because he is quick to continue, “Did you think Sun would miss out on this conversation?” He laughs tearfully, and it’s only then that you see the straight-toothed smile, the way a single ray is peeking out from under the hat, “We’re both here, love. We’re both here for you.”

A joyous sob escapes you, a wonderful, grateful feeling bursting from your chest in warm abundance, “So you’re okay with it?” Another tear falls hot against your cheek, “You want to do this?”

“We’d be—” laughter cracks from his throat, “— over the moon , starlight.”

That’s all the confirmation you need. In only a second you’re across the boardgame and all but crawling into Moon’s lap. His arms outstretch to catch you, and your legs swing to sit on either side, wrapping at his waist as you hug him so tight your bones tremble with the effort, and he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you—

Breathlessly you draw your face into the crook of his neck, nuzzling against his chin, and for this one brief moment you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.

“We can start the paperwork or—figure things out tomorrow,” you mumble against his throat, “is that too soon?”

He forces your chin back and kisses you deeply and with a passionate fervor, dipping you, inch by inch, until your back presses neatly against the messied game board, following you every step of the way, and suddenly he makes a grab for your ankles.

“We can’t wait that long,” he tells you.

The rain pours, the fire roars.

You are home.

[rphelperblog]

Lizzie Saltzman Quote Rp Meme

I’ve got a lot of secs...I mean time.”

“I’m trying to rise above it so let me freaking rise.”

“Did she who must not be named just fat shame me?”

“Are we poor?”

“That is why I have decided to permantly release my inner bitch.”

“If you hurry, you can catch up with blair bitch and tongue chum her again.”

“Distracted during a monoluge, classic villain mistake.”

“For the record, this selfless act of heroicism fully cancels out my previous dodgy behavior.”

“I just have this feeling that everything is going to work out just fine.”

“Only a threat to those dumb enough not to fall in line.”

“Great luck sending jimminy cricket after me.”

“”Aparently not long enough to think of something clever to say.”

“Fifty shades me.”

“This sentient jar of artisinal maynoaise.”

“Don’t worry. I will just ask him about star wars and he will talk the whole time.”

“This is a nergasm, not a plan.”

“If I am destined to die in my prime, at least let it be in a blaze of heroes glory.”

“I know that I am great, but everyone else- terrible.”

“I spent a lot of time bettering myself over the summer and I am gonna need you all to rise to my level.”

“This is terrible news. It’s freaking fall not winter. What am I gonna wear?”

“I’ve always wanted to be apart of a power couple.”

“I’m mad at the world and you just happen to be in it.”

“Thanks a lot. Way to ruin life for the rest of us.”

“One word. one word and I could burn her perky little boobs to ash.”

“We aren’t in the prison yard, ass hat.”

“Would you like to be the robin to my batwoman?”

“You’re fine. Just a little- Slutty.”

“We are gonna suck?”

“Anything to keep me from picturing my sister’s tragic visit to the shire.”

“Sometimes, she was just tired or having a bad day or whatever.”

“I just want to soak in this gold moment when we thought that your plan would work.”

“You are pagent pretty, reasonable well spoken and the added benefit of being an orphan.”

“It’s effective, but her methods- quaint.”

“Screw this world.”

“Well, in that case, screw personal growth.”

“I’m sorry. We can’t all be born with resting pouty face.”

“We get it you came back. Now, disapear again.”

I fancy sex with you. The jury’s out on all the rest.”

“For the love of frodo, go rescue your hobbit. We will muddle through.”

“I’m a taste maker. An influencer. people don’t know what they want til I tell them they want it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that on a poster at the dentist’s.” 

“New plan. The gloves are off. Let’s burn these bitches to the ground. We’re going to give these townies a taste of what we’re really made of.”

“No one has been better off without you.”

“And we don’t exist for just one boy.”

“This is an honor. It’s so nice to know that you all love me as much as I love myself.”

“Epic former frenemy reunion is going to have to wait.”

“A mission for a hero and her league of- whatever.”

“In order to conquer, we had to divide.”

“i thought you would have wanted to spend the day canoodling with your hipster boyfriend.”

Ew. Wait, that leaves me with High-and-Mighty Granger. Like Hermione Granger, but just more stuck-up?”

“You only get one chance to make a good first impression, and you don’t want to be the girl that wears a uniform to a school that doesn’t have uniforms.”

“That wreath can’t go there. That is where the doves are being released which is after the video, remember?”

“Oh god, he has got you speaking nerd.”

“I’m getting back to me. I am who I am.” 

“If you would be happy to be my date to my birthday on Friday.” 

“Do I look pretty when I play quarterback?” 

“You are not friends. Your just a montage.”

“I’m not worried about losing the election. I’m worried about what I’m going to wear to my victory rally. The outfit makes the speech.” 

“No, I am not a virgin.”

“Oh god, that was my inside voice.”

“For once, your weird relationship with my dad is paying off.”

“You cannot leave me alone with just her for company.”

“I was making an entrance mop head.”

“If she still wants to kill me, the safest place I can be is right next to you.”

“No, I am right on time to kick your ass.”

“On a scale from horrific to apocalyptic, a 12.”

“That is such a move.”

“I am nosey, in like a charming way.”

“Do I look like a nerd?”

“nothing that you and I will be proud of.”

“It’s hero time.”

“Nu-uh, we are all good.”

“Are you seriously telling me that I am going to die because I become a better person?”

“on the bright side, we are all happy that you are single.”

“I don’t do trash.”

“I should have said this earlier but black isn’t your color.”

“No wonder you had a thing for me.”

“Is it because I am prettier than you?”

“It’s so much less impressive when you give the hero speeches.”

“Oh god, I am having an episode again.”

“I did. I do. Also- I am incredibly turned on by him.”

“I prefer to die with dignity.”

“Unchain me, and maybe I will tell you. You thrift store hobbit.”

“Trust me, no one thinks that.”

“We are about to die. Figure something out.”

“I’m unique and special and for some reason I am angry at the world because of it.”

“Good morning... more like despair.”

“I care that instead of being welcomed at the airport, we were stuck taking a shuttle that smelled like a sewer for three hours.”

“See the new you is so snarky.”

“Be surprised quitely.”

“So buckle up. We are in this tell the bitter end.”

“It’s okay. Just let it out the real way. Like you have needed too all this time.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“What is with the performance anxiety?”

“Why? I am wearing polyester.”

“Who is this trollop?”

“When I said that I wanted to hang out, this is not what I had in mind.”

“This is the definition of girl power. I am proud of us.”

“If you tell anyone else this, I will deny it, but I am glad you are back.”

“WIth global warming, I might never see the florida keys because of you.”

“who better to put a touching memorial to me than me?”

“That hair, that shirt... oh, I see you have a point there.”

“We are airy clouds flying high above a tuburlant sea of teenage drama.”

“He is hot and crazy and the language barrier would make it hard to communicate. Just how I like it.”

“Why are you carrying a sword?”

“Sorry, I think.”

[ddarker-dreams]

Contractual Obligations. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Implied stalking. Word count: 1k. →Part II.

A bewitching patch of flowers catches your fancy, standing tall and bright, boasting a rich azure shade. Content with your find, you bend down to pick the blossoms. Your cheerful mood turns sour at the slightest rustling behind a nearby tree. Not troubling yourself to look in the direction of the noise, you run your hands along the root, preparing to pluck the glaze lily. 

“How much longer are you planning on hiding?” 

More rustling. Footsteps approach from behind, a carefree laugh accompanying them. “Ah, you caught me. Could it be that I’m losing my touch?” 

For such a jovial voice, it fills you with oppressive dread, your jaw tightening at the unfortunately familiar timbre. Plagued by this unrelenting shadow, you guess that taking a refreshing walk on your lonesome is too much to ask for anymore. You weigh your options. Ignoring Childe has never done you any favors, likely fanning his flames even more. 

“You say that, but if you really wanted to, you’d go undetected.” 

Childe leans down next to your hunched over form, an irritatingly calm smile on his face. “Oh? What’s this? Are you complimenting me, [First]? If you’re not careful, I might let that go to my head.” 

“I’m sure it already has anyways,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you wanted me to catch you.” 

“You got me there.” Childe shrugs, straightening his posture out. You take in a shaky breath, willing yourself to remain calm, painfully aware that you should be watching your tongue. To no fault of your own, Childe makes it impossible to remain polite as you normally are. Every interaction is based around him pushing your buttons for his personal pleasure. On a surface level, you know you need to be courteous, as your parent’s business relies on Fatui’s money. 

“Can I ask why you’re following me? I’m sure there are other pressing matters for you to attend to.” 

He hums, smoothing out his shirt while you work on the flower’s roots. “Work can be so boring. I just happened to be on a break when I caught you leaving Liyue, and decided to tag along.” 

Tag along. Is that what he’s calling it? It feels like every time you’re off gathering items for your parent’s shop, Childe decides to accompany you, despite your obvious distaste. 

Once you uproot the flower, Childe extends a gloved hand, that you stare at unimpressed. You take it after a moment’s deliberation, for the sake of maintaining appearances. Childe hoists you up with ease, and before you can mutter a halfhearted “thank you”, pulls you flush against his chest. Cobalt blue eyes fixate on your alarmed expression. Childe pays the most attention to your slightly parted lips, the skin beneath his eyes tightening in delight as he snickers. 

“I must confess,” he leans down to the shell of your ear, blowing on it playfully, “You’re starting to hurt my feelings, [First]. What have I done to deserve such cold treatment from you? Hm? Haven’t I been more than accommodating to you?” 

You swallow thickly, your stomach churning at how Childe’s voice dips lower, the dangerous sound ringing alarm bells in your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, you don’t?” he inquires, and you shake your head. “In that case, I’m more than happy to remind you.” 

Childe pulls back so he can return his attention to your endearing facial expressions. At this close proximity, it’s impossible to ignore the height difference, the man easily towering over you. He tilts his head, messy copper hair falling into place soon afterward. Every ounce of your strength is dedicated to maintaining his piercing gaze, to salvage just an ounce of your honor, unwilling to fully relent to the pressure he exerts. He smiles at this, clearly pleased. Childe places his hand underneath your chin, delicately lifting your head to inspect you closer. 

“Do yourself a favor and don’t forget what would happen if I came to collect your shop’s debt now.” 

You want to offer a stinging rebuttal but the words die on your tongue. He’s right. Whatever the reason may be, the notoriously uncompromising Fatui have been lenient with your parent’s debt. You’ve had your suspicions, most of them relating to the person in front of you now, but hearing it aloud from him makes it far worse. 

Eyelids fluttering shut, you push down the bile rising in your throat to hopefully appease him. “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for all you’ve done.” 

“Ah, how cute is that,” Childe sighs, running his pointer finger along your bottom lip. The cool leather sends shivers down your spine. “That look of frustration is so adorable on you. You’re making this even harder on me, I don’t think I can prolong it much longer.” 

Your face flushes at his words, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean by that…?” 

“I guess I wasn’t clear enough. I still have every intention of collecting your debt -- it’s owed to me after all -- but it’s not Mora I’m going to be taking.” 

Childe smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You watch how his expression darkens, unable to look away, despite wanting to do nothing more. When did it become so difficult to breathe? Every one of your senses is on high alert. From the running stream by your side, the breeze rustling your hair, and the electrifying aura that radiates from Childe. Ever the one for dramatics, he pauses to greedily drink in your appearance.

“I’ll be taking you instead,” he finally releases his vise-like grip on you, stepping back with grace. “So look forward to it, okay? I know I have been.” 

Childe starts on the path back to Liyue. You stand there, stunned into silence, eyes wide as saucers. When you don’t follow after him, he turns his head and beckons you to his side. Your stomach drops as he goes to speak up again. 

“Come, [First], I’ll walk you home. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you, now would we?” 

[squishneedsahero]

The Comfort of A Mother

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 11 of 13

Word Count: 1558

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

As soon as you and your family arrived back home Bruce dove head first into this case, sometimes going for a few days without talking to you more than once or twice. This was usually how things went when there was something big going on, and normally you'd make him pay attention to you at least one every few days. But this case felt different, you felt like he needed this time to work on this one. On top of that you were in the middle of editing another book you'd written so you were able to do something to keep yourself from feeling completely ignored.

It was for weeks on end that life went on like this, and you let it go on for a while, until you had almost finished with editing and noticed that it had been more than a few nights in a row that you had fallen asleep and woken up in bed alone. So tonight after three nights of sleeping alone, it reaches midnight and you make your way down to the cave, knowing your husband had been coming back for Damian to be able to get a reasonable amount of sleep because he had school on the morning, and you wait for him. When they finally arrive back home you're waiting for them, in your pajamas, leaning against the desk of the computer. You had already sent Tim up to bed and volunteered to take over while he got some sleep.

When they get home you give Damian a soft smile as you say, "Sleep well."

He nods in reply and makes his way to change before heading upstairs.

After he's gone you turn to face Bruce, "So, are you going to come to bed dressed like that, or would you like to change?" You cross your arms and give him a look to let him know you're serious about this. "Because as your wife I demand at least 16 hours of your full undivided attention, because it's been weeks."

"Alright, dear," with that he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to your bedroom, still fully dressed as Batman. Once you both make it upstairs he goes and changes into sweatpants and no shirt before coming and lying next to you where he sat you on the bed.

You can tell that he's tired since after he lies down he pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms and legs around you protectively and doesn't even say anything to you. "I love you," you state and give him a kiss before snuggling fully into him.

--^--^--

You wake up to Bruce running his hand through your hair, and you open your eyes to see his face in front of yours. "Hi, handsome," you say tiredly.

He smiles softly and gives you a kiss, "good morning beautiful."

You smile and roll over so you're lying on top of him, and glance at the clock. "Well, it looks like I still get another four hours of your attention." With that you look back at him and kiss him deeply, and her slides his hands up your shirt against your back, holding you as close as possible, just wanting to feel your body.

--^--^--

A few hours later as you're lying against his side and tracing your fingers on his chest, he says, "Honey, there's something I need to tell you."

You tilt your head just enough to look at his face, "yeah?"

"The first night I didn't come to bed. It was because we were finally able to track down the Redhood. And, well, I'm not sure how to say this any better, The Redhood is Jason. Jason is alive."

You can hardly believe what it is he's telling you, you're just frozen there staring at him until finally you get yourself to ask, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, thats why I've waited this long to tell you. I needed to be sure for you."

Tears form in your eyes, as you look at your husband. He was serious very often but you had rarely ever seen him this serious, the last time you'd seen this look on his face was as he said 'I do'. He kisses you gently, and you can hardly believe it, your baby who you thought you had lost for these few long years was alive. "Why, do I feel like there is something to this you haven't told me? There has to be a reason he hasn't come here."

"There is... I don't know yet how he came back but he did. He's still recovering his memory. And, he's not the same as he was when we lost him, he's killing people... and I confronted him about it," he looks almost ashamed as he says the last part.

"So, now he's mad at you?" you guess, and his slight nod is enough of an answer for you. "Thats alright, we just need patience. You saw what it took for Damian to even come this far, for Dick to finally come back to us. We'll figure it out, him being alive just means we have that chance again," with that you kiss him to let him know you're serious.

--^--^--

You and Bruce had been invited to the policeman's ball for the GCPD and Bruce wasn't able to come so you had gone for the both of you, ugh. The ball was over so you were heading out to your car that was in the parking garage. As you're walking you keep thinking you hear another set of footsteps. They're subtle and anyone who wasn't married to the most paranoid man in the world wouldn't think it was anything, but you did. You kept walking confidently, trying to figure out where it was they were coming from, since there was no one else out here right now since you were leaving early.

As you get to your car the lights in that part of the garage go out. You freeze not moving to unlock your car, just waiting for whoever it was that had been following you to make the first move. You might be wearing a fancy dress and be in heels but that doesn't mean you can't kick ass if you need too. The first move you make is pulling your heels off, giving yourself a weapon, and making it easier in case you needed to run.

Theres a shuffle behind you and you spin around, only to be facing who you could only assume was Redhood, judging by his choice of headgear. You stay still, waiting for him to make the first move, praying that if it really was Jason he'd say something. Slowly he raises his hands, showing they're empty, and removes his helmet, and a mask from under that. Your breath hitches when you see him, he was older, he looked tired, but there was no mistaking him, "Jason," it comes out barely audible.

"Hi, Mama," thats it. That's all he says.

You pause for a split second before dropping your shoes, and taking a step towards him, holding your arms open, asking if it's alright for you to hug him. He closes the rest of the gap as soon as he sees that. And as soon as he's in your arms thats when you break, thats when you start to sob. You both stand there hugging each other tightly, and as you do you can feel him shaking slightly, but you don't say anything, knowing he just needs to let it out.

Eventually both of you pull away slightly, and you look up at him, he'd gotten so tall, but that doesn't stop you from giving him a motherly kiss on the forehead and holding his cheeks so you can look in his eyes. "Can I ask what happened, or not right now?" You ask this quietly as you look at his eyes, they aren't blue anymore they're an eerie shade of green, and they look hurt, he has this deep pain behind them that isn't just going to go away over night.

"Not right now, please, I just wanted to see you."

"Thats alright, my Jay-bear."

He seems a little startled by the nickname, it had been years since you'd called him that, since anyone had.

"What?" You say raising an eyebrow, "you know you'll always be my little Jay-bear even if you are taller than me now. Is it alright if I tell Bruce I saw you, or would you rather I didn't?" You ask this without explaining why you'd even wonder this.

A small smile comes to his face and he hugs you tightly once again. "You can, it'll be better than him figuring it out himself," a pause before letting go, "I should probably get going... I'll see you around though right ma?"

"Of course you will, my phone number hasn't changed it you need anything. And I can keep a secret at least for a while, so don't go sending me your address, but if you tell me when and where we can meet up." With that you hug him one last time and watch as he puts his mask and helmet back on and he makes sure you get into your car safely and as you head home he heads off into the night.

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 5)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 3619

Warnings: reader drinks wine casually

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Here is part 5!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.

 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.

 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.

 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.

 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.

Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.

In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.

 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.

 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.

 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.

 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.

 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.

 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.

Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.

 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.

 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.

 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.

 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.

 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.

 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.

 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?

 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.

 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.

 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.

 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.

 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.

It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.

 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.

 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.

 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.

 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.

 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.

 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.

 You could not hold back a laugh.

“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.

 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.

 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.

 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.

 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”

 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.

“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.

 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.

 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”

 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.

 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.

By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.

 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.

 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.

Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.

 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.

He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.

 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.

 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.

 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.

 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.

 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.

 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.

While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.

 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.

 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.

 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.

 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.

 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.

 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.

 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.

 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.

 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.

 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.

 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.

 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.

 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.

You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?

 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.

[sigurdjarlson]

We should get a scene with Tom and Greg in a fancy shop that mirrors the scene from the pilot when Tom is getting the watch for Logan. Greg protests it cause he already has a watch and Tom insists because a high up executive needs one that actually functions. He also subtly/not so subtly insinuates that since Greg is now fully on his side, he needs to get rid of the Kendall filth. He needs something that clearly shows Greg belongs to him and no one else.

Possessive/jealous Tom is a weakness of mine honestly. (I bet you guys never would have guessed lmao)

And I sincerely hope Greg gets flirtier with Tom? I want evil gay sugar baby Greg damn it. Like he’s totally into Tom too but he’s realizing he’s got some leverage here for once and it’s fun.

But yessss. Greg a little grumpily tells Tom what actually happened with the watch and Tom is so fucking smug

“See, Greg? See who always takes care of you?”

But Greg kinda smirks a little, “He said he’s not my sugar daddy.” And Tom just goes dead silent for a moment because Greg is moving closer and when did his hand get on his waist. “Does that make you my-“

“Finish that sentence and you can go crawling back to Kendall.”

It’s suddenly really hot in the store? Why is it so hot?

(I’m a tomgreg daddy kink truther because I’m a sicko but I’ll stop there)

Greg knows he doesn’t mean it though. He does however enjoy Tom touching his hand so much as he has him try on watches.

“I’ve always been kind of self conscious about my wrists.”

Tom just looks at him like what the fuck are you talking about?

”Yeah, Comfrey said I have normal wrists.”

“Is that from one of your riveting conversations with her?”

Greg shrugs because yeah, maybe he just wanted to see how Tom would react and he reacted exactly how he wanted.

Tom bristled immediately and he’s still holding Greg’s wrist in his hand, a little tighter than l necessary, just running his thumb over his pulse point.

“You can’t date her, you know.”

“I don’t want to.” He says and he means it.

He knows that Tom intends it to mean because she’s on Kendall’s team but he’s not so sure that’s what Tom really means.

“The Contessa either.”

“Being married to the Emperor of Rome is more impressive anyway.”

Tom’s face goes an amusing shade of red and for once he doesn’t seem to have a response.

Tom is touchier than ever with him. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t love it. People don’t normally touch him. His hug with Tom was the first hug he could remember someone returning in a long time.

Greg realizes he could probably ask for the most expensive watch in the place and Tom would buy it for him.

It’s kind of ugly though so he doesn’t but it’s nice to know he could.

He’s quiet on the ride home, fiddling with the watch. He loves it but admittedly there is a guilty little thought that keeps nagging at him.

“What? You don’t like it?” Tom is trying to cover up his genuine self consciousness

“No, no. I love it, man.”

“Then what’s with..” he gestures vaguely, meaning Greg’s uncharacteristic silence.

“I guess I’ve just been wondering. You’re not going to get me a ring…Nero?

Tom nearly dropped the latte he’d been sipping.

[wistfulcynic]

from one minute to the next

A little something inspired by the prompts @winterbythesea posted here and here and here. This is not those prompts exactly (nor is it what I outlined on the discord, sorry guys) but I think it carries the same lighthearted dumbass energy as they do. 

Also, Killian Jones does not know what a ‘date’ is. Fight me, show. 

Summary: Emma’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow she finds herself going from single and solitary in the city one minute to smoothly co-parenting with her ex, living with a pirate, and at home in a town full of storybook characters the next. 

Home. She never thought she’d have one of those. 

This is the story of how she got there. 

(also no! curse! renaissance! 3B divergence without Pan’s curse) 

<3k words  Rated T

AO3

-

from one minute to the next: 

Emma was never entirely certain how it happened. 

One minute she was telling Neal she didn’t want to get back together with him, that it was just too late for them now, and he was looking sad but in a resigned sort of way, as though he regretted the truth of her words while still recognising that they were true. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to August. I shouldn’t have left you like that. If I hadn’t…” 

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. They both knew how different things would have been if he hadn’t left her. And they both knew that it was far too late to undo what had been done. The only option left was to move on. 

“We found each other again, though,” she reminded him. “And we found Henry.” 

“You mean Henry found us.” 

“Yeah, that’s probably more accurate.” 

They shared a chuckle, and for the briefest moment the years fell away and she remembered why she’d fallen for him. And for the first time since she’d run him down in a New York alleyway, Emma looked at Neal and she felt hopeful.  

“Anyway,” she said, “Henry wants both of us in his life. He deserves that, and I think he needs it. And I think for it to work we need to try to be friends.” 

“No hard feelings, then?” Neal asked, hopefully. 

Emma hesitated. 

What did she feel for Neal? There was still affection, of course there was—the stubborn remnants of a passionate first love that she doubted would ever fully die. There was resentment too, a lot of it, and a lot of hurt. A fair bit of anger. So yeah, there were some hard feelings, but there also wasn’t much point in attempting to hash any of them out with Neal. Not when they needed to move forward.   

She produced a smile, slightly stiff at the edges but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Sure. No hard feelings.” 

Neal’s face broke into a grin, the wide, happy kind that crinkled his eyes and once upon a time would have sent Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. Now it just made her think of another crinkly grin, one far rarer and all too often tinged with sadness. 

“Neal,” she said. “I’ve got to go.” 

-

The next minute she was at the docks, breathing deeply and gathering her courage, looking up at the Jolly Roger and hoping Hook—Killian—would be there, in his cabin, maybe with his flask and one of the books that lined his shelves. More than once these past few weeks she’d caught him tucked up in a corner somewhere, reading, and Belle informed her that he actually had a library card. 

“He didn’t have the required ID,” she’d said with a little smirk. “But I think we all know who he is.” 

Emma was pretty sure she did know that, now, and the knowledge propelled her forward, onto the deck of the ship then down to his cabin where she knocked firmly on his door and shivered a bit when his voice called for her to enter. 

He looked up, surprise registering on his face followed swiftly by the delight he could never quite conceal when he saw her. 

“Swan,” he purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Emma’s heart was pounding and her throat dry, and honestly it was ridiculous to be this nervous, it wasn’t like he was going to say no. 

“I’m, um. Heretoaskyouout,” she blurted. 

He frowned. “To what?” 

Emma drew a deep breath and tried again. “Ask you out.” 

“Out of where?” 

“What? No. What?” 

“Where do you want me to go out of? This is my ship.” 

Emma resisted the urge to smack herself on the forehead. Of course he didn’t know what ‘ask you out’ meant, he was like a thousand years old. “No, no, I mean out on a date,” she explained. Tried to explain anyway, though his confusion just grew more apparent. “Like, to dinner or something. You and me. Out.” 

“Ah. Ah.” 

She watched as he turned the unfamiliar phrase over in his head, watched his eyes brighten with interest at learning a new thing, then when he finally realised fully what it meant she watched a rosy pink flush creep across his cheekbones and up to the tips of his ears. 

He swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was gruff. “Let me be certain I understand. You want us, as in you and me, to go someplace and eat dinner together. Just—just us?” 

She nodded. “Yeah.” 

“And in this realm that is called a date?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And am I to understand that there are… romantic connotations to these dates?”

‘Romantic connotations’, she thought, for fuck’s sake, and did her best to ignore the fluttery feeling she always got in her belly whenever he broke out the big words. Aloud she said “Yeah.” 

“I see.” He swallowed again. “And when do you propose we have this date?” 

“Um. Tonight?” 

Aaand there it was, that wide and crinkly grin that made the blood rush far too recklessly through her veins, this time with no sadness lurking behind his eyes. None at all. 

“Tonight it is, then,” he said. 

-

One minute Emma was alone and telling herself she was content to be so, the next she had parents and a son and an ex who was almost a friend, and she was dating. Dating Hook, which she told herself firmly was only weird if she thought too hard about it. She wasn’t actually dating Captain Hook, of course she wasn’t. That would be ridiculous. No, she was dating Killian Jones—who was surprisingly, endearingly, sweet and nervous about it at first, like he wasn’t entirely certain her interest was real and was doing his utmost to tread carefully.

Emma didn’t want him always on his best behaviour, though, and while Killian was wonderful she knew that both of them still needed at least a little bit of Hook. And so it was that after their third date, when Henry was with Neal and Emma had made it very clear to her parents that they were not to expect her home before morning, that she and Killian stumbled back to his ship tipsy on rum but drunk on each other, and she made certain he understood exactly how interested she was. 

It was very. She was very interested. 

And when they awoke the next morning and she groaned at the glaring sunlight and pressed her face into his neck, muttering that it was too damn early and she needed caffeine, he ran his fingers through her hair and informed her he had a coffeemaker in his galley. 

She pulled back and blinked at him. “You what?” 

He flushed slightly, though with a pleased grin. “I asked Granny and she showed me what I needed, and helped me buy it.”

“But why? You don’t drink coffee.” 

He shrugged. “It’s growing on me. And besides, I thought—well, I hoped—that you might want to spend some time aboard ship in the future and, well, I want you to feel comfortable here and to have the things you like.” 

She stared at him for a moment as his flush deepened, then surged forward and kissed him, wrapped herself tightly around him and kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless and the coffee forgotten until much, much, much later. 

-

Another minute passed and they were marking six months together. Emma had rented a place of her own, nothing fancy but hers, and she and Killian were spending most of their nights there. Her bed was bigger than the bunk in his cabin, softer and with actual springs, and her parents, Granny, and Ruby had all chipped in to buy her an espresso machine. Small but serviceable, like her apartment. Granny taught both her and Killian how to use it—and honestly, Emma thought, you haven’t truly lived until you’ve seen a shirtless pirate with a hook for a hand whip up a latte on a Sunday morning—and she was, tentatively, happy. 

Very happy. 

She didn’t see too much of Neal. He spent time with Henry of course and with Belle, renovating the pawn shop and brightening it a bit, removing what traces they could of the Dark One’s influence. She also knew he was volunteering at the convent where the Lost Boys lived, helping them get accustomed to life in Storybrooke and make it their home. 

He might also, she suspected, have become somewhat more than friends with Tink. 

-

And then one night Emma and Killian had dinner at a new place by the docks, where they gorged on seafood and drank a bit too much wine and decided, for safety and for old times’ sake, to spend the night on the Jolly Roger rather than trying to get home. 

Home. She had a home now, and a man who as good as lived there with her. She should really get around to asking him to live there officially, she knew. She kept meaning to. She wanted to, she truly did. But as conversations go that one felt so weighty and so significant that she wanted to be sure to do it right and so in the end she’d done nothing at all—nothing except feel that little bit more guilty each time Killian asked her politely if it was all right for him to stay. 

Yes, she wanted to tell him. Stay forever. Soon she would. 

They stumbled onto the ship and to his cabin, foolish and messy in a way they hadn’t been for a while. Emma realised she had missed this a bit, the dark, almost feral look in Killian’s eyes when he was just this shade of drunk and she was naked in his bed on his ship. 

“You are… so beautiful, Emma,” he growled against her throat as his fingers tangled in her hair. “Have I told you how you steal my breath away?” 

“Not for at least an hour,” she teased. 

“Remiss of me.” 

“Mmm. However will you… ohhh… make it up to me?” 

He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, I have one or two ideas.” 

-

They woke late the next morning as was their habit on a Sunday, and Emma groaned as the light pierced her eyelids and straight through her throbbing head. 

“Killian.” She poked him in the ribs. 

“Mmphh,” he replied. 

“You still have your… thing. Right? Coffee thing? In the galley?” 

“Aye.” He rubbed his eyes and blinked. “I believe there’s aspirin in there as well.” 

Emma turned her poking finger into a caressing one, stroking him with the tip of it. “Killian,” she said again, in a wheedling tone. 

“It’s your turn to make the coffee and you know it, Swan,” he replied, in his pirate captain voice. 

She huffed. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine.” She flung the covers off and rolled out of bed, snatched his shirt from the floor and threw it on, buttoning it just enough to keep it from flapping when she walked. “I’m guessing you don’t have milk though.” 

“Certainly not any in a drinkable state. Though there should be some of that horrid creamer.” 

She perked up. “Cinnamon?” 

“What else?” 

In the galley Emma found the coffeemaker and an open packet of coffee that smelled surprisingly fresh given how long it had been since they’d last slept here. There was also the cinnamon creamer, unopened, and a big bottle of aspirin. One minute she was pulling everything off the shelves and turning to set them on the table, and the next the door was swinging open and a person walking through it, and Emma found herself colliding sharply with a bare chest. A familiar bare chest. A familiar bare chest that was not Killian’s. 

“Neal!” she shrieked, dropping everything in her arms. “What the fuck!” 

“Emma!” He looked equally stunned. “What the—what are you doing here?” 

“Here on my—on Hook’s ship, you mean?” My boyfriend’s ship, she wanted to say, but calling a 300-year-old pirate a boyfriend was something she still couldn’t do, however objectively true it may be. 

“The ship he said I could use whenever I needed it?” countered Neal. “Yeah, that one!” 

“He said you could use his ship?” 

“Uh huh, he did. When I, you know.” A shifty look crept onto his face. “Wanted privacy.” 

“Priva-oh!” Emma’s eyes widened as the penny dropped. Neal was still living in his father’s house. The house where Belle also lived. “Um. I see.” 

“Yeah.” Neal didn’t meet her eyes. “But why are you here, don’t you have your own place now?” he demanded. “I thought Hook lived with you.” 

“Not officially,” she muttered. “And we, um, had a bit to drink last night at that new seafood place and you know.” She shrugged. “The ship was closer.” 

“Huh. Well that explains those noises I heard last night.” 

Emma was just about to ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean when the door opened again and a voice called “Why don’t I smell coff—oh! Um. Hi Emma.” 

Emma pressed her thumbs against her temples. “Hey, Tink.” 

The fairy was dressed identically to how Emma herself was, only the shirt she wore was Neal’s. An old Metallica tee because of course. 

“Well,” said Tink. “That explains those noises we heard.” 

Neal nodded. 

“What noises—” Emma began, then the door opened again. 

“Did you find everything, love—oh. Er.” Killian appeared in the room wearing only his jeans and without his hook. He scratched behind his ear. “Hello, friends and enemies.”

“Hook,” said Tink and Neal. 

“Killian,” said Emma. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never told me you were letting Neal stay here.” 

“Ah. I did offer him use of the first mate’s quarters whenever he was seeking a bit of privacy, yes. If you remember, love, my quarters proved invaluable in that respect when you were still living with your parents.” 

Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. “Yeah,” she muttered. 

“I merely thought Neal and Tink could do with a bit of the same benefit. And you know the Jolly gets lonely if she’s left by herself for too long. Although,” Killian favoured Neal and Tink with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “I did make that offer quite some time ago now. And I don’t believe I said anything about staying here.” 

“Yeah, well.” Neal’s face took on that belligerent look he got when he was feeling defensive. “I don’t want to move out of Papa’s place and leave Belle alone.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Emma demanded. 

Everyone stared at her. “What?” asked Neal. 

“Belle’s seeing Ruby.” 

“Ruby?” 

“Yeah. For like three months now. Ruby’s constantly moaning about how they can’t stay at her place because Granny’s got wolf hearing and they can’t go to Belle’s because it’s full of you. Trust me, Belle will be okay if you move out.” 

“Oh,” said Neal blankly. “Well. Fuck.” 

Emma looked around the room, at her current boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend who was also her current boyfriend’s ex… something, all of them in varying states of dishevelment, hangover, and undress, and she started to laugh. 

“Yeah,” she said. “That about sums it up.” 

-

So Emma never did quite figure out how it happened, but somehow she ended up with a home of her own in a fairy tale town with fairy tale friends and a pirate boyfriend, where one minute she was drinking coffee in a ship’s galley with a group of people who knew each other far too intimately for anyone’s comfort and the next her ex and his girlfriend were her neighbours and her pirate was living at her place for good—at their place, now—and her son was bouncing happily between the two apartments save at least one night a week that he spent at Regina’s. She and Neal co-parented better than she could ever have hoped, and every morning she woke up to blue eyes warm with love and lattes made precisely how she liked them. 

And, well. Emma’s happiness wasn’t tentative anymore. 

-

She was happy. Really happy. Truly happy. So happy that when she came home one evening to find the kitchen smoke alarm shrieking and Henry teetering on a stool waving a towel at it as Killian and Neal grappled with some foamy, hissing, smoking substance on the countertop, she wasn’t even mad. 

“What the hell do you idiots think you’re doing?” she demanded. 

“Ems!” 

“Mom!” 

“Swan!” 

“It’s not what it looks like!” they cried in unison. 

Emma shook her head. “I’m going next door,” she said. “To have a beer with Tink. This,” she gestured vaguely at the room, “had better be dealt with by the time I get back.” 

As she turned and headed back out the door, the last thing she heard were three furious voices. 

“Now look what you’ve done!”  

“What I’ve done! It was your idea!” 

“And I still don’t have a science project!” 

Emma grinned, and shut the door firmly behind her.

---

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @mariakov81 @stahlop @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @shireness-says @thesschesthair @courtorderedcake @everything-person @katie-dub 

[thomotomo]

“Oh shit”

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Trans Male Reader

Summary: You get caught by your crush in your binder in the changing room.

Words: 2.3k

You walked inside the changing room, having waited for everyone to leave it. Luckily for you after PE class you had a hour hole where you didn’t had class allowing you to wait until you were sure that everyone had left the room until you could change in peace.

You walked inside and went straight to your locker, the faster you did it, the faster you could go do something else. You took off your clothes and reached for the one you usually wore. You heard a bang echoing through the room along with footsteps going quickly.

You tried to put your shirt above your naked torso but the stress along your internal prayer for that person not being Bryce had made you end up in a tangled mess with nearly nothing covered, especially not the one you wanted to hide. The person stopped in front of you and you barely kept a sigh of relief when you noticed it was only Zach, your crush. Great.

You then remembered that you still didn’t put your shirt on and you turned your back to him to change quickly, face burning with shame. He had hidden his face in his hands, it was

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t knew there was s-someone else!”, he spoke up first and you could feel that he was at least as ashamed as you were.

“I-It’s nothing.”

“No no! I’m really sorry. Erm I-I just forgot something in my locker..”

He quickly went over his locker as you finished to put all your clothes on.

“Are you decent?”, he asked, still not facing you and you were glad he respected your boundaries.

“It’s… It’s okay. Erm thanks for not… looking.”

“O-Of course! It’s normal! It’s your privacy after all!”

You smiled at him shyly before remembering that you could do anything and you were craving a hot chocolate from Monet’s. You opened your mouth just as he did and you looked at each other and smiled awkwardly .

“Maybe we should go outside first?”

He agreed and you left the room, Zach right behind you. You walked in the corridor and went outside the building in silence, which was quite awkward in your opinion. You stopped once you were far enough from the school building.

“I didn’t knew you were hum…” he stopped himself when you dead panned at him and he flushed a bright red.

“I- No I didn’t mean like that because of course you don’t want anyone to know about it but… Okay I’m going to shut up.”

“Yeah.”

Both of you stood there awkwardly and you were shuffling your feet but as it seemed he wasn’t about to say something more.  You took a step backward and smiled at him.

“I’ve gotta go… See you later.”

“See you later!”

You left him there and went to Monet, ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on the top. You sat at a table hidden in a corner as you thought about the strange interaction you just had with Zach. You really hoped he wouldn’t say anything about it because if he did you were in deep shit.

At least he had seemed a bit flustered and pretty with what he saw so maybe it was a good sign? You really didn’t knew but hoped nothing wrong was going to happen following that.

You decided to bury these bad thoughts by drinking and listening to music allowing yourself to relax a bit before your last period. You sat here, comforted by the coffee’s atmosphere, really this was your favourite place in the whole town. Your phone rang, indicating that it was time for you to leave for class.

You took your backpack, leaving a small tip for the waitress and went back to the school meeting up with Alex at your locker. Both of you discussed heartily about the last exams you had to take in that class which was AP Biology. You sat inside the classroom next to each other, hoping that you won’t get a bad grade. You tried to ignore the feeling of someone watching you as you were pretty sure it was Zach. You never hated more the fact that he was in your class than right now.

The teacher walked inside and you shut up as she started talking about the exams you passed few weeks back. She pulled them out and went to distribute them around the class. You grinned at Alex as you see your mark, it was above what you had hoped for: 96!

He looked a bit disappointed as he got “only” 78 but you offered to help him to work on the points he might not have fully understood. Right after that the teacher decided you had to do an assignment in duo. You waited until he told more, hoping that maybe you could do it with Alex but sadly she was going to partner you with someone. You listened as Ms. Honecker paired people together and sadly/luckily for you, you ended up with Zach. From one side you were happy because you knew he was working well on the other side you knew it was going to be awkward.

You heard that Alex was paired up with Monty you smirked at him and watched Alex turn a bright shade of red until he swatted you on the arm.

“Shut up. You’re no better!”

“Firstly, I didn’t say anything and second, that’s true. But I’m not the red one!”

“You were thinking so loud it’s practically the same! Of course, you teased me first!”

“Now please go with your partners! This work has to be returned to me for the first week of next month! Good luck everyone.”

You took your backpack and went to meet Zach where he was seated and you nodded at him feeling a bit awkward (just as you predicted, congrats you can now open a fortune teller salon!). You sat next to him and took out your textbook.

“Do you want to come to my house after class? We could start writing a bit more about the subject.”

“Yeah good idea… So… What do you want to start the searches on?”

Both of you worked for the two hours, searching through the textbook interesting info about genes and evolution, sometimes discussing about what particular species you wanted to concentrate on to talk about their evolution and genes that had been kept or not through their evolution.

It was quite interesting and Zach seemed really into Biology and you liked that he was as much a fan of this subject as you were. You were clearly going to have fun for this assignment with him. The two hours went quickly and you packed up your things.

“I…Have to go to my locker and talk to Alex. Do you mind if we meet each other in say… 10 minutes?”

“Good for me!”

You left the classroom, meeting with Alex in the corridor. He grinned smugly at you and you sticked out your tongue at him.

“So? You seemed quite cosy with Zach back there huh?”

“Shut the fuck up Alex! You seemed quite at ease yourself if you want to know!”

“Mmh yeah. And fuck his arms are huge if you want to know!”, he recalled, licking his lips.

“Nope! I don’t want to know more! Especially if you want to describe me some kind of fantasies about him!”, he laughed at you as you reached the lockers.

“I won’t be able to walk with you. Zach and I are going to work on the project.”

“Yeah sure thing “work” I know what kind of work you want to do!”, he did quotation marks with his hands as your face was feeling quite hot at the thoughts of it. You swatted his arm with your hand.

“You’re not better! So, I’m going to go, see you tomorrow Alex and you better tell me that you got that dick instead of harassing me.”

He flipped you off as you walked away to meet Zach. He was scrolling on his phone and straighten out when he noticed you walking toward him.

“You good?”

“Yep we can go!”

He grinned at you and oh my god that was such a beautiful smile. You stood there stunned for a few seconds before following him to his car. You went in and he drove you to his house in a comfortable silence.

When you reached his house, you were quite in awe, it was quite big and pretty fancy (at least on the outside but you were betting that inside it looked quite as beautiful). You walked inside and woaw the inside looked fancy as fuck too, more in a modern way but you were sure that this sofa costed as much as you manga collection. There was a girl seated on said sofa and Zach ruffled her hair.

“This is May, my little sister! May this is Y/N he’s my partner for an assignment.”

“’Sup! So, you’re Y/N? Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.”, you smiled at her, wondering if Zach talked about you seeing as she seemed to “recognize” you.

You followed Zach to his room and both of you sat on the ground and took out your things. He put on some music in the background and both of you started working on the evolution of the whale and you had fun debating on what interesting part to chose to speak about and more generally discussing about biology.

At a moment you were quite close from each other as you showed him something on your phone. You felt your face burning, trying to ignore this proximity as he read the article on your phone. You had worked for an hour when you decided to take a break from the work.

As Zach was to the bathroom you sent a message to your dad, telling him you won’t be back before 7pm because you were working with Zach. You closed your phone as he walked back in the room with cookies.

“I took some cookies if you want to eat.”

“That’s awesome thanks Zach!”

You took one and ate it as you looked at the room. It was big and a lot of basketball and baseball stars, a classic jock room in your opinion. You felt Zach’s curious gaze on your face and you looked up at him.

“You want to ask something right?”

“Ah! Erm yes… I mean only if that doesn’t bother you…”

“It depends if it’s invasive or not.”, you shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“I was wondering… Does anyone else know?”

“Apart from Alex and my parents nope. I mean that’s kinda the point?”, the question seemed a bit weird because that was obviously the point for nobody to know about that except people with whom you felt wouldn’t do anything to you because of this. But you “let it slide” because it was probably the first time he was faced with this situation.

“Yes… Sorry I… I’m curious but yeah I should shut up.”

You laughed quietly and went back to your cookie you noticed on a shelve the Attack on Titan manga. You quickly finished to eat the cookie and pointed at the shelve, deciding it would be a good way to change the conversation and make it less awkward.

“You like manga?”

“Ah yes! My mom bought me the 1st tome for me to try and at first I was sceptic but I really enjoyed it! Did you read it?”

“Obviously! It’s like in my top 10 favourite manga!”

You grinned as you found another common interest apparently. You discussed about manga for a good ten minutes before you continued to work on the assignment. You had found maybe like 2 pages of sources when the time came for you to go back home. You started to gather your things and Zach did the same, putting everything on his computer.

You took your backpack and Zach accompanied you downstairs and to the front of his house.

“Hey, I can bring you back to your house if you want?”

“Oh, that would be awesome, really thanks a lot.”

He nodded and took his car keys and you sat next to him in the passenger seat, giving him your address so he could drive you. The ride was spent in discussing contrary to the earlier ride.

Once you arrived in front of your house you took your backpack and got out of the car, Zach doing the same. You looked at him curiously as he fiddled with his car keys.

“So… Y’know I wanted to say that erm… I don’t mind who are…”

“Zach what the fuck does this-“, you frowned at him, clearly he was acting weird and this sentence’s formulation was definitely a bit offensive. You weren’t being yourself for people to mind it.”

“I-I’m sorry. Shit I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant is like… I- fuck that.”

“Wha-?”

He took your face between his hands and kissed you. Your eyes widened comically, you didn’t knew he arbored those kind of feelings toward you. After a few seconds he freed you and was visibly blushing, just like you were feeling your face burning.

“I didn’t knew how to say that so… I really like you and-”

“Me too!”, you blurted and put your hand in front of your mouth as you saw him laugh gently at you.

“I’m really sorry if I hurt you earlier… I really didn’t want to say things like that…”

“I understand.. But be careful next time…”

“Yep I’ll do my searches to avoid any mishaps ever again! Can… I have your number maybe?”

“Of course!”

You took out your phone and exchanged numbers, you were biting your lower lips, happy with the ending of the day. His phone vibrated with what seemed with a message of his mother and he looked sadly at you.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow Zach;”

You smiled at him and he took you once again by surprise by giving you a peck on the lips before getting back in his car, leaving you here with a giddy smile and a fast-paced beating heart.

________________

A/N: Thanks for reading it! I hope you enjoyed my fic don’t hesitate to like and reblog!  And if you want to support my writing please think about leaving me a tip on my Kofi

[elliesguitarstrings]

Here For You

Masterlist

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter comforts you after you reveal your struggles with depression to him.

A/N: Sorry it’s taking me so long to write part 3 of Silence but I promise it will be out soon. I’ve just had a rough couple of days so I wanted to write something that kinda reflects my feelings atm. I know that a lot of people are feeling the same way as I have been, so I’m just putting it out there that I am always open to talk if anyone needs help :)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression and suicide, language

~~~~~~~~

You let out a long sigh as you close your computer after the last class of the day. You’re exhausted, you have a pounding headache, and you don’t have a single shred of motivation.

When all of this COVID stuff first started, you didn’t mind doing school from home. To be completely honest, you actually loved it. You didn’t have to talk to all the annoying people in your classes, you could do a large portion of work on your own time, and you had an excuse to stay in your room all day. What’s not to love, right?

Wrong.

After a few weeks, you started to see how terrible it all was. You had to teach yourself everything because your teachers had no clue what they were doing (and they still don’t). You started to get distracted easily. And the worst part: every single fucking day was the same.

You lost all motivation to do anything.

You’re smart, one of the smartest in your class, actually, but your grades were dropping rapidly. You lost track of assignments, turning them in so late you didn’t even get half credit. You procrastinated like crazy, dreading every single day. You stayed up late every night, trying to finish assignments and get back on track. But nothing was working.

You want to change so badly. You want to be one of those girls who keeps a bullet journal with fancy colors and letters, who plans out their entire day with a checklist, who stays on top of their work, and who actually has the motivation to get up out of bed each morning. But you can’t and you aren’t, and you don’t know why.

Plus, right now you were on your period, which was not helping things. At all. You hate feeding the stereotype of girls being all emotional and unstable during their periods, but it’s true. Well, for you at least. When you’re happy, it’s like you’re bouncing off the walls. But when you’re sad, it’s like you’ve fallen into a 300 ft deep hole and you’ll never get out.

You crawl into bed and start sobbing, the only thing you can do right now. You just want it to be over. All of it.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your window. Your shades are drawn, but you know exactly who it is. It’s Peter. He goes patrolling around the city after school, but he always comes to check on you first, seeing as you’re his girlfriend and all.

You know that if he sees you crying, he’ll want to help you, but the last thing you want is to be a burden on him. Plus, you only started dating a few months ago, and you didn’t want to drive him away by getting all emotional around him.

“Just a sec Pete, I’ll be right there.”

You run to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness and puffiness in your eyes. You pat your face dry with a towel, put on the best smile you can muster, and run back to your room.

You draw back the curtains and open the window, allowing Peter to slip into your room.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the window, I um, just woke up from a nap,” you apologize, shutting the window back while he takes off his mask.

“Don’t worry about it! But didn’t school end like 10 minutes ago? How did you fall asleep so fast?”

“Oh, um, my last class got dismissed early, so I was actually done like 30 minutes ago,” you lied, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad you got some rest. You need it.”

Smiling, Peter stretches his arms out towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Just that small amount of affection is almost enough to make you burst out into tears again, but somehow you manage to hold it in.

Until Peter pulls back, looks you dead in the eyes and says, “What’s wrong?”

“What? N-nothing’s wrong Peter, I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you aren’t. I can sense something’s wrong, so just tell me.”

“Peter I swear. Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” your voice is shaking.

Peter folds your hands into his, “Y/N, please. I know something’s up. Just tell me.”

That’s when you lose it. You fall back into his arms, sobbing even harder than before. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But there’s no stopping it now.

Peter holds you tight while you cry, letting you bury your head into his chest. He doesn’t ask any questions just yet, he just holds you.

After a few minutes, the tears let up enough for you to pull away, looking at Peter with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so so sorry. I- I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you stutter between sobs.

“Y/N, no, no, it’s okay. You can let it out.”

His voice is soft and comforting, and it does actually help you a little bit. He pulls you into another tight hug, repeatedly kissing the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Come here, lets sit down, okay?” he pulls away slightly.

You nod weakly, and he guides you onto your bed. You both sit down, facing each other, and he takes a hold of your hands.

“Peter I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden, you should go do your patrolling, I don’t want to hold you up – “ you start, but Peter cuts you off.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. And forget about my patrolling. I’m staying here until you’re better, however long that is.”

You smile weakly, to tired to even fight on it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Only if you’re comfortable though, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter questions.

You look at Peter for a moment through teary eyes. He was here for you, ready to listen to you and help you. You were hesitant, not wanting to spill all of your feelings out on him, but you’ve already gotten this far, so why not.

“Yeah, sure, but can we cuddle?”

“Of course baby, whatever makes you comfortable. But let me change first, I’m drenched in your tears,”

You chuckle lightly. Peter always knows how to make you laugh.

He changes into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he left at your house and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you close to him, and you snuggle into his arms.

“So, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Are you sure you want to hear my problems? I really don’t want to be a burden Pete,” you respond, still crying.

“Baby, I’m here for you. I want to help you and make you feel better. That’s what I’m here for.”

He really is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

“Well, um, okay. It’s just, I don’t have any motivation to do anything. Not even to wake up in the morning. Even just the simplest tasks seem so difficult, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore Pete. I just can’t do it.”

You start to sob once again, and Peter pulls you into him even closer. He lets you cry and slowly calm down for a few moments before responding.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. I mean, I knew school was bothering you, but not to that extent. But please, please please don’t leave me. You mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” now he’s starting to cry.

You lay there, Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as close as humanly possible to him, both crying your eyes out.

“Y/N, I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Because losing you isn’t an option. So tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thank you so much Pete. You being here Is honestly the best thing you can do right now.”

You snuggle into him, engulfed by his warmth and comfort.

After a long silence, you look at him and smile, genuinely this time, “You know, even though I’ve been sobbing nonstop basically since you got here, just being with you has already made me feel better than I have all week.”

Peter looks back at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in and kissing you softly. Although the two of you had kissed many times before, this one was different. This was pure love.

You pull away, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Of course baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You both smile, going back in for another kiss, much like the last.

This time Peter pulls away forehead still resting against yours, “Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise Pete, I promise.”

You snuggle back into his chest, your tears finally diminishing. Although the past few months had been absolute shit for you, Peter had always been there. And you know he always will be. He makes everything better, and you couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

The both of you start to doze off to sleep, tired from all the crying you had been doing for the past, well, however long it’s been.

Before you fully fall asleep, you whisper, “I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, so much” he whispers back.

And in that moment, you are truly happy.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

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Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe 

[hongnanglen-arina]

Sweet study break | Hong Joshua

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Joshua x fem reader

Warnings: none

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Hello there! This is my part for this years valentine’s gram event from @caratwritersclub​ ! I got teamed up with the cutie Sakura ( @cupidhaos​ ) so here is my little drabble for you dear. I hope you’ll like it ♡ Happy Valentine's day! 💋

⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━ ⋅𖥔⋅

You were stressed out. All the studying got on your nerves and if that wasn’t enough already, your weekend was filled with chores and additional studying, leaving you no time for your much needed self care and time for your friends and hobbys. It just sucked.

Looking up from your textbook, you suddenly felt the urge to eat sweets. To relax your nerves.

So you made your way out of your room to look for it. Anything would do at this rate but there was nothing at all. Sighting heavily, the realization hit you that the only option was to buy something at the convenient store down the road. 

A short glance at the open textbook on your table made you feel that you should take a short time off and get some fresh air. Not only the sweets but also the little walk could give you more energy to continue later.

That’s when you got ready and quickly threw on an oversized hoodie, grabbing your purse and phone to leave the apartment to almost hit a familiar boy with the front door as you were about to head out.

“W-wha… wow…. hi?”

He stepped back, sharing your surprise to see the other like this.

“Oh sorry!! Did I hit you, Shua?”

At your question Joshua shook his head no and you smiled in relieve. “No no, don’t worry, y/n. Were you heading out? Need company?”

You thought for a moment but then agreed to his offer. “I craved sweets so I took a break from studying to get some. Sorry that I can’t hang out with you for much longer after that but there’s still a lot to do.” He had followed you out of the apartment complex, walking side by side as he looked at you.

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and taking care of yourself in between all the studying. I was worried.”

A pink blush appeared on your cheeks when you heard his words. He was worried?

Fighting back a smile, you made an ‘oh’ sound not to sounds too crazy. Sheepishly waiting for him to turn his gaze off of you, you took the chance to admire his side profile when he did. He was tall and handsome and you couldn’t believe how you got so lucky to have him as a friend. One that sincerely cared for you.

When you arrived at the convenient store, you greeted the old lady at the cashier. She was so lovely and always asked about your day whenever there weren’t many customers.

“Oh y/n! It’s so nice to see you and your friend! You got here just right. This is for you.” She pulled two packages of strawberry milk out of the pile of delivery boxes and handed them to you two. “I know you love it, enjoy!”

Trying to say no was impossible with her. She always insisted giving you small treats here and there. One time she told you, you reminded her of her own daughter.

“Is this your boyfriend?”

You already inserted the straw and were sipping at your milk when she asked about Joshua, causing you to choke slightly, blushing furiously. “N-no no! He’s a friend who wanted to cheer me up between all the studying!”

Not sure why you had to explain yourself because the way she was watching you two, you could see that she wasn’t fully believing you. “W-we just met outside and he wanted to accompany, right Shua?” He nodded quickly and rubbed the back of his neck a little embarrassed at the situation.  

The old lady nodded with a grin. “Well, your favorite chocolate is cheaper this week so don’t forget to take some with you.”

You missed out on the wink she gave the boy next to you with a nod in the direction of the said sweets. He beamed her a ‘thanks’ and looked around, not to look too obvious.

In the meantime, you were roaming through the aisles, lazily picking up bags of chips and crackers before joining your friend in front of the chocolate section, the strawberry milk almost empty.

He sneakily got your favorite chocolate and hid it between two other flavors before you could see it. “You have everything, y/n?” At his words, you nodded, showing him the snacks in your hands.”

“Alright, I’ll get them for you. You are the stressed one here and I hope it will ease your tension at least a little. Just show me your beautiful smile, that’s enough for me.” The moment he noticed what he just said, he bit his lip, nervousness rising up while you were looking at him with big eyes, your cheeks burning.

The clapping of the old lady pulling the both of you out of your thoughts. “Ahh… and here I am, thinking those romantic moments only exist in dramas! But it happened right in front of me! You two are so cute together!”

You never thought your face could burn like it did now, hitting Joshua’s arm and gesturing him to pay so you could get away from this embarrassing situation and he got the hint immediately.

After waving your goodbye’s, you were back outside, Joshua carrying your snacks in a little bag for you. “She’s…. nice.”

“Yeah..” you replied in a weak voice. The cold air should cool down your face as soon as possible or else you couldn’t look at your friend. You walked back slowly, both deep in thoughts when you heard the boy beside you clear his throat.

“Uhm… actually I have something for you.”

You blinked and looked down to the bag in his hand. “You have the snacks you mean?”

He chuckled and shook his head, starting to open his white cross bag and pulling out a small velvety sachet. Your friend gave it to you and once you opened it, you saw what was inside. A light green bead bracelet. The beads were all in different shades of green. You loved it but you were speechless, feeling so thankful for the snacks he paid for and now his selfmade present. In the middle were letters which formed the word ‘fighting’. 

Looking for words, Joshua became more shy after handing you his gift, his confidence gone completely when you remained quite.

“I… was just thinking about you. I wanted to give you some strength and support. Sorry, if it's out of the blue.. it’s nothing fancy or so but-”

“I love it!” You cut him off. “I really do, Shua! Thank you so much!”

You were already back in front of your apartment door as your fingers carefully rub over the beads. Without asking, he offered you to help you put it on and you watched him do so while pulling your hoodie sleeves up to reveal your wrist. He was careful not to secure it too tightly and it was difficult for him because he felt too nervous all of a sudden, the bracelet slippery between his fingers.

Pressing your lips to a thin line, you waited until he was done, suppressing your shy smile and trying hard to ignore your fast heartbeat. You admired the thoughtful present on your arm when you lift your gaze, meeting his eyes and you were sure, all air left your lungs.

Without a second thought, the handsome boy in front of you brushed a strand of hair behind you ear. “If you need another break, just tell me and I’ll be there. Any time.” He quickly turned around and walked away so you couldn’t see how pink his cheeks were, a wide smile on his lips.

As if he knew you were about to say something, he lifted his right hand and waved a good-bye before starting to run at turn at the next corner until he wasn't in sight anymore.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 16

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to mentions of sex. Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

So... after your heart-rate slowed back down to normal, you realised that, no matter how much you possibly empathised about Billy dropping her, there was no way you were going to sit back and let Madani keep coming after your man. She’d have a fight on her hands, that you could promise her.

You were trying to concentrate on your paperwork, you really were. But your mind kept circling back to Madani. Coming to a decision, you stood up and grabbed your things. Making your way downstairs, you walked through the café, stopping to let your team know that you’d be out for a while.

Getting on the subway, you made your way to Homeland HQ and asked the receptionist if you could speak to Agent Madani, specifying that you’d meet her there in Reception. You weren’t going to meet her in private, that was for damn sure. The receptionist made a call, then asked you to take a seat.

After a fifteen-minute wait, Madani and her heels came clicking their way over to you. Her eyebrows were presently in a permanently raised position. Standing up, you nodded to her and forced yourself to say civilly, “Good morning, Agent Madani.”

She nodded back at you, lips pursed. “You realise that approaching me while you have an active complaint against me is not correct procedure.”

Shrugging, you replied, “About as correct as you approaching Billy and asking him to meet you.” She flinched back, and you realised she didn’t think he would’ve told you. You carried on, “Agent Madani, this has got to stop. I feel you’re just going to keep on contacting him regardless, and you’re just going to keep getting rejected.” She opened her mouth to reply, but you held up your hand, “Hear me out, please. Look, I get it, I really do - you thought you might have something going for you with Billy. Then you find out he’s met someone else and he drops you. And I’m sorry about that. I wouldn’t be happy about that if it happened to me.”

She glanced round quickly to check there was no-one within earshot, before glaring back at you, but you carried on nevertheless, “I know you don’t believe this, but Billy and I do have a relationship, a real relationship - and yes, it’s all happened very quickly but sometimes that’s just how things do happen.” Folding her arms across herself, she huffed and said, “You’re right I don’t believe it. Billy Russo is the biggest damn player in New York City and if you think you’ve tied him down, you’re more of a fool than I thought. A damn naive, stupid, oblivious little fool.”

You nodded, “Uhuh... well, I thought a woman-to-woman talk about it might help, but I guess it’s obvious where you stand, and you’re not budging.” You started moving away, “Well, if I’m a fool then fine! - I’m a fool. That’ll be my problem to sort out. Bye, Agent Madani.” Turning, you made your way out of the building without a backward glance.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was slowly swinging from one side to the other in his chair. His head was lying back against the headrest and his eyes gazed up at the ceiling. He was daydreaming about his girl, something he found himself doing more and more often these days. Thinking back to his visit to her office that morning, a slight smile curved over his lips. He loved it when she initiated sex. Not only did it give a big boost to his male ego - that he couldn’t deny - but it made him go all soft inside. To him, it meant that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, meant it wasn’t him starting things all the time. That’s what he was used to, after all. He’d always been the one in control.

He chuckled to himself, what in the fuck was happening to him? He was turning into a big gooey mess of a man. Shaking his head, he stood up and wandered over to the glass wall, looking down onto the training area below. He’d better get a grip of himself or one of the newbies would get one over on him, and he couldn’t have that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You made it back to Chelsea shortly after your unproductive meeting with Madani. Slamming your office door behind you and flouncing over to your desk, you plopped down into your chair, dropping your bag down beside you.

That obtuse bloody woman!!! And she called you a fool! Pot and kettle, love, you thought, pot and bloody kettle. Now you were going to have to admit to Billy that you’d also met up with her, and all for nothing - a complete and utter waste of time. Oh well, at least you’d tried. Not your fault she couldn’t see the wood for the trees.

But if she chased after Billy just once more, you wouldn’t be responsible for your actions - Homeland agent or not.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Madani was quietly stewing back in her office. How dare she try to do the sister act thing, ‘I get it, I really do’ .....just who does she think she is?! Miss Bloody Perfect.

She would just bide her time. There was no way on god’s green earth that Billy Russo would stay faithful to her, it just wasn’t happening.

He’d damn well admitted he’d been attracted to her. That was enough for her, to grasp onto that small sliver of hope and hold onto it tight.

And when he did fall off the Faithful Wagon, she’d make sure she was there to see it. And to catch him as he fell.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After texting Billy to say you quite fancied a Vietnamese takeaway this evening, you went down into the café a little later on and had a long chat with Jake, catching him up on the Scorned Woman Situation. He started making you a macchiato, commenting, “She just really doesn’t get it, does she?” You leant closer to him, saying in a low voice, “The thing is, she’s succeeded in planting a seed of doubt in my head.” “What... about Billy?” You nodded, looking down. “He did have quite the reputation before he met me you know, Jake.”

He nodded, “You said. Are you thinking a leopard can’t change its spots?” You sighed, taking the small cup and saucer from him, “Well, yeah. She keeps saying he won’t stay faithful to me, hell - she even said it to his face! And... it is making me worry, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. Everything’s fine now, but what if he gets bored? Sees a pretty face out and about somewhere, feels what he says he feels about me for them?”

Jake shrugged, “But that’s the test any relationship faces. You can’t play it out on ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’. Just gotta go with ‘the here and now’. Don’t you?” Nodding, you sipped your coffee before laughing, “What you say is true, oh Yoda.” He laughed, “I am wise beyond my years, little one!” You heard the café door opening behind you, and Jake chuckled, “And talk of the devil...!” Turning your head, you saw Billy homing in on you, big smile on his face and eyes glued to you. Jake whispered, “That looks like a pretty faithful doggy to me!”

You subtly elbowed him, before fully turning to Billy and smiling back. “Hello, handsome,” you greeted him, and you were surprised to see Billy’s face go a slight shade of pink. “Hi, beautiful,” he said back, before leaning down and kissing you shyly. His hand slid down your side and took hold of your fingers, lacing his with yours, eyes gazing into yours. Okay, you thought, I know I’ve been ribbing him about being a big sap but this is a whole new level of sappiness.

You drained the last of your coffee, and said to Jake, “I’m taking off now, Jakey boy, you OK to close up?” He mock-bowed, “But of course, my Princess.” You caught an irritated look on Billy’s face and smiled to yourself, he really was a jealous ass. With or without good reason.

You nipped back upstairs to get your things and when you came back down, you saw Jake and Billy almost facing off against each other, eyes glaring. What the....? You walked quickly over to them, “Hey, guys?” They broke eye contact, Jake looking embarrassed as he met your eyes, “Uhh... have a nice evening.” You swung round to Billy, who was studying his shoes with great interest. “Okay, Jake - thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Billy’s head came up, “No! She won’t be in tomorrow.”

“What? Now, Billy, you know I’m always in the cafés on Saturday mornings,” you said with a hint of warning in your voice. He looked back at Jake, “I’ve got plans for tomorrow. You can cope, can’t you?” Jake bristled, “Of course I can!” Billy looked back at you, “See? All under control. Just for once, have a Saturday off, please sweetheart.” You looked at Jake, who just smiled at you, so you nodded, “OK, just this once, Russo.” Billy smirked in triumph and took your hand, pulling you along with him towards the door as you waved at Jake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy almost dragged his girl out of the café, before that bastard Jake could say anything else. Who did that cheeky little shit think he was, trying to give him the “don’t hurt her or you’ll answer to me for it” speech! Her fuckin’ father or something?!

He was seething, but trying to hide it. Once they were both in the car and pulling out into the traffic, she turned slightly towards him, and he could feel her eyes boring into him, “Okay, Russo - spill.”

Sighing, he looked in his rear view mirror as he changed lanes and replied, “Your little pal back there started coming on like your Dad or big brother or sumthin’. Givin’ me the whole “if you mess her around I’ll come after you” spiel.”

Oh Jake, you thought, you numbskull. He meant well but.... obviously Billy hadn’t been impressed. You heaved a sigh and Billy glanced over at you, before making a right turn and swinging the car into his building’s underground parking lot.

“Look, that was my fault,” you said, as he parked up in his space and turned off the engine. He glanced over at you, “What d’ya mean, angel?” he asked as he unbuckled his seat belt, before opening his door and walking round to open yours. “Well... uhh, I went to see Madani this morning.” He was in the process of taking your hand as you got out of the car, but stopped and looked at you, mouth open. “You did what?” You slammed the car door. “Billy! I’m sick of her chasing after you!” He raised the remote and bleeped the car locked.

“Angel, you gotta be careful with her, she’s looking for ammo to fire back at us!” You nodded, “I know that. I met her in Reception so it was in public. I thought I’d try the woman-to-woman chat.” He took your hand in his as you both started walking to the lift doors. “Did it work?” he asked. “No it didn’t! She’s the most obtuse, stubborn woman I’ve come across in a long time.” “Uh-huh, that she definitely is. Tell me what you said to her?” The lift arrived and the doors opened, you and Billy walking into it. “Well, I told her that I got it. She thought she was gonna get somewhere with you, and you dropped her. I said I wouldn’t have been happy either. But that it had to stop, as she was just going to keep getting rejected.”

Billy chuckled, “Oh my, that must’ve gone down well.” You laughed, “She doesn’t believe we have an actual relationship, she said you were the biggest player in NYC and you’d never stay faithful to me. I get the feeling she’s gonna hang around just willing it to happen.” Billy tightened his grip on your hand, stroking your hair with his other hand, then your cheek. Before he could speak, you jumped in with, “And I might’ve admitted to Jake that she’d managed to plant that seed of doubt in my mind.” He closed his eyes, putting his head back against the lift wall. “Angel, please don’t be listenin’ to her bullshit!”

The lift doors opened, and you both began walking along to his apartment door. He suddenly stopped, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you hard. He pulled back, his dark eyes looking pained as he gazed at you, “You know she’s just tryin’ to stir things up between us, don’t you? That’s what she wants, for you to question me and my behaviour, to be suspicious of me, for us to argue.” He kissed you again, before burying his face in your hair, “Well, I ain’t gonna let that happen, sweetheart,” you heard, “....she ain’t gonna come between us. I will be faithful to you, I promise. Don’t want anyone else.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a very tasty and spicy Vietnamese meal which Billy had ordered in, you both lazed on the sofa nursing your beers. He was looking at you anxiously every so often, and eventually he burst out, “I swear to you on all that’s holy, I’ll keep it in my pants!” He was gazing at you, eyes wide and deep and dark and full of fear. Yes, fear. You reached over and laid your hand along his bristly cheek, “It’s okay, Billy! I believe you, poppet.” The smirk was back, “Uh, not with the poppet thing again!”

You laughed, “Yes! You’re my big sexy poppet.” Eyebrow wiggle, “Well, when you put it like that,” and your hand was lifted up and then placed under his sweatshirt, onto his lower abdomen, where you could stroke the treasure trail of hairs leading ever downwards to his ‘crown jewels’. “Mmmm,” he smiled, eyes closing, “....you gonna keep going, sweetheart?” You didn’t bother replying, just slid your hand further down and under the waistband of his briefs. You still marvelled at how big and hard Billy got, and you very happily took hold of what was clearly marked as ‘your property’ as far as you were concerned.

You relished the feel of his velvety skin and gave him a couple of very firm strokes, before cupping his balls in the palm of your other hand and squeezing. You were pleased to hear a long, low groan from Billy and looked up at him, seeing that his eyes were tight shut in pleasure.

“So, Billy,” you asked, “...what’re these plans you’ve got that are so important I had to take Saturday off?” He opened his eyes and grinned at you, “Can’t possibly tell ya, it’s a surprise.” You took a much firmer grip of him and his hips jerked forward, “Are you sure about that, Billy?” He laughed nervously, but replied, “Very sure, sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy (3)

By popular demand and my current Ladrien fixation I bring to you part 3 of this fluff fest. Enjoy!

---

Plagg was this close to throwing an extra large wheel of cheese at Adrien’s head. After Ladybug left last night he had been skipping around his room with the biggest, dorkiest grin imaginable. Every once in a while he would stop to contemplate how hurt his friend Marinette would be about this before he perked up again. Now he was standing in a pile of clothes trying to pick out an outfit for the movies tonight.

"What about this?" Adrien held up a black button up. "It's nice but understated and it would match Ladybug’s costume. Or is it weird to coordinate? Or maybe too fancy for a movie date? I have a black v-neck that may be better. What do you think?"

"It all looks the same to me," Plagg answered, not bothering to look up from the comic book he was reading.

"Plagg! Come on! Just give me an opinion. This is a big deal for me!"

Plagg grinned, a wicked thought entering his brain. "Oh I just don't know, Adrien. I don't wear clothes so I don't have the best source of judgement. Why don't you ask the designer friend of yours? I'm sure she would love to help you."

"That's actually a great idea--hey, wait a second--Plagg!" Adrien torn the comic out from under him like a tablecloth, "I can't ask Marinette for help regarding my date with Ladybug! Are you mad? Did you forget that she's the one that I need to reject after this?"

"Oh? Is she?" Plagg feigned ignorance. This was just too good to pass up. If only this poor little kitten of his knew the truth. He was rejecting the same girl he was going on a date with. He had to mess with him a little.

"Yes, Plagg, I have gone over this at length already." Adrien sighed, with a shake of his head, "Just work with me here and say button up or v-neck."

"Nude,"

Adrien tossed the comic back down. "You’re not funny."

"Really? I'm pretty sure I'm hilarious. You are just too young to appreciate my humor."

"Yeah, sure, that's the problem." Adrien looked between the two shirts he had before tossing the one aside. "V-neck. Definitely the v-neck."

He cradled the shirt close to him and Plagg had a moment of sincerity. Adrien was really happy about this date. He had never seen him so excited before. For decades Plagg had watched humans fall in love over and over. He could never really understand it since kwamis were incapable of the romantic love humans felt but he knew what familial love felt like. He knew that he loved Adrien as his chosen. If romantic love was anything like that then he wouldn't spoil the experience for Adrien anymore today. Tease him about any funny slip ups he may experience later, yes. But for today he would let the boy be. He deserved it.

---

"You really didn't have to see me off for my date, Alya." Marinette said, "I'm fine."

"You know I had to come. It's your first date with Adrien. No way was I gonna miss this." Alya kicked her feet excitedly, "I wanna hear all about it when you get back."

"What? Are you just gonna hang out here until I get home? Are you that interested in how my date goes that you’re going to wait up for me?"

"Duh, was that not obvious?"

"Well then," Marinette transformed, "how do I look?"

"You look like Ladybug."

"Right…" Ladybug looked at herself in the mirror before pulling the ribbons out of her hair to let it loose. "There, a little more casual. Right?"

"Sure, girl, a superhero wearing her hair down. Casual to the max." Alya rolled her eyes. "Now get going or you'll be late."

"Okay, see you later." She jumped through the trapdoor of her balcony and was off. Her heart was thundering loud in her chest the closer she got to the theater. She stopped at the building across from it and searched the faces heading inside. Then like a beacon under the neon lights she saw him. Adrien.

Okay. Be cool. Don't do anything stupid.

She fixed her hair and jumped off the building. She landed in her best hero pose across the street from him. When she looked up he was staring at her in awe.

Nailed it!

She then promptly tripped on the curb crossing the street.

"Watch it!" Adrien caught her by the arms before she could collide with the concrete, "You okay?"

"Yeah! Thanks! I've taken much worse tumbles than that." she laughed it off. "Guess you saved me this time."

"Uh yeah, I guess," Adrien fidgeted with his ring, "You look really nice. You're wearing your hair differently."

"Heroes gotta let their hair down sometimes, huh?" she chuckled to herself. "Consider it my unofficial off-duty look. Not that I'm ever really off-duty but you get what I mean."

"I get what you mean." They stood for a moment just staring at one another in mutual lovestruck awe before either of them remembered they were here for a date.

“Should we head in?” Adrien pointed back to the theater.

“Right, yes, we should do that.” they wandered inside and immediately gazes were drawn as they made their way to purchase their tickets. Despite her arguing that she could buy her own ticket Adrien insisted on getting it for her. She played truce and bought the snacks instead.

They followed the crowd into the theater. A few people stopped Ladybug to get some pictures or an autograph. Adrien patiently waited with the snacks as he scanned the room for good seats. It was surprisingly packed for such a late showing. “Uh Ladybug,” Adrien called for her attention, “I’m gonna go save us some seats so you come by whenever you’re done.”

“I’ll be right there. Thanks.” she gave him a thumbs up before going back to her fans. She really didn’t mind when fans came up to her, she was always honored, but she was here for a date. It didn’t feel right to let him go off on his own so she could take pictures.

The lights started to go down and she used that as her excuse to take her seat. She edged past the other theater goers and sat down in the chair next to Adrien. “Sorry about all that,” she whispered as the movie started, “You have my attention for the rest of the night. Promise.”

“Don’t worry. I totally get it. People stop me when I’m out with friends from time to time.” Adrien assured her. “I’m just glad to be here with you at all.”

Marinette blushed red hot and she found herself thankful for the dark theater. “I’m happy to be here with you too.”

The movie started in ernest and they drew their attention to it. Every once in a while she would catch him watching her instead of the movie or he would spot her staring at him. They’d quickly look away and smile, trying to keep their attention on what was happening on the screen. At one point she went to put her arm on the arm rest between them and nearly jumped out of her seat when she fully laid her hand overtop Adrien’s without noticing.

“Sorry,” Adrien blurted out but was quickly shushed by the audience, “sorry,” he whispered in a quieter voice, “you can have it.”

“No, no, you can have it--I just--”

“No. Really, I’ve been hogging it all night. You take it.”

“I don’t need it. Please, just take it--”

“One of you had better take it and shut up already.” someone behind them hissed.

“Sorry,” Ladybug squeaked. She moved to put her arm back and bumped into Adrien who was doing the same thing. They giggled for a moment. Then Adrien rested his arm on it with his palm facing up.

His eyes met hers with a shy, expectant smile. Oh! She bit her lip and laid her arm on top of his and interlaced their fingers together. Tonight was the best night ever just for this!

They stayed holding hands for the rest of the movie and when they got up to leave they were still interlocked. Neither wanted to let the connection break just yet. They walked out of the theater and into the cool night air.

“This was a lot of fun.” Ladybug said, “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me.”

“I’m still surprised you asked me out in the first place.” Adrien said, his gaze traveled down to their interlaced hands, “This was really nice.”

“Do you have a ride home?” Ladybug asked.

“No chauffeur tonight,” Adrien looked down the street then back at her, his voice dropping low to a whisper, “Between you and me, I’m not supposed to be out here.”

“How rebellious!” Ladybug scoffed, with a mock scandalized face, “Did you sneak out to come here tonight? I don’t know, Adrien. That’s top tier felon behaviour. I may have to turn you in.”

“Oh please, Ladybug, have mercy.” he pleaded with the same level of theatrics, “I meant no harm! Don’t send me to the slammer!”

“Oh alright,” Ladybug giggled, “I can’t throw a pretty face like yours in jail. You wouldn’t last ten minutes with all those other big bads. All those jaywalkers and litterbugs, they’d tear you apart.”

“You underestimate me, I could have control of the yard in five.”

“I bet you could.” she shook her head. “So since you don’t have a ride home did you need a lift? I can get you back lickety split.”

“How about instead of a lift you give me an escort.” Adrien asked, his big green puppy dog eyes blinking down at her, “As fun as the movie was I didn’t really get to talk to you which is the one thing I wanted to do most tonight.”

“How can I say no to that?” she squeezed his hand tighter, “I want to get to know you better too.”

They left the theater on foot back towards Adrien’s house. Neither had anywhere to be and no rush to end their date just yet so they kept the pace slow and let themselves take the long way around.

“Let me start simple,” Adrien said, “What is your favorite color?”

“Pink. But not like a hot neon pink, more of a soft sunset pink. What about you?”

“Blue. It’s just so relaxing to look at in almost all its forms. I think my favorite shade would have to be a soft sky blue though.”

“That’s nice. Alright, my question.” Ladybug pondered it for a moment, “What is your most treasured memory?”

“Wow. Starting off strong huh? I feel kinda ridiculous with my color question.”

“Don’t be. Sorry. I should have said something a little simpler, shouldn’t I?”

“No. I like your question. I just need to think about it. Gimme a second.” Adrien said as he started to think. He was really thinking this through. “I think my most treasured memory would be Christmas Eve when I was six.”

“Not Christmas morning?”

“The morning was great but I’ll never forget the night prior.” Adrien’s eyes took on a far away look, “It was as basic as Christmas Eve’s go. I wanted to stay up so I could meet Santa. My parents said that he wouldn’t come if I stayed up though and sent me off to bed. It was around midnight and I heard a noise coming from downstairs. I assumed it was Santa so I swung out of bed and raced out of my room to catch him before he could leave.

“I got down there and I found presents under the tree but no Santa. There was a light on in the kitchen and I figured he must be getting his milk and cookies. I go up to the door and push it open. There’s no Santa in the kitchen but there are my parents. My mom is sitting on the island munching on a gingerbread cookie, father is looking in the fridge, there’s quiet Christmas music playing on the radio next to them.

“My father closes the fridge and holds up a piece of mistletoe he must have hidden in there. Mom laughs and when he went in to kiss her she held up the gingerbread man so he kissed that instead. Father looked grumpy and bit the head off. Mom gasped and was all like, “I cannot believe you decapitated Mister Gingy! He had three kids you monster!” which made me laugh. Of course now they know I’m there and father picks me up and tells me I should be in bed and all that stuff. I wasn’t listening and instead I grabbed the mistletoe and held it up to mom. I meant it so my parents could kiss but instead they both kissed my cheeks instead. We stayed up for at least another hour eating cookies and drinking warm milk and hot coco before I fell asleep and they put me back to bed.”

“That is so cute!” Ladybug gushed, “I can see it all in my head. Squishy faced kiddie Adrien sneaking out of bed and eating cookies with his parents. That’s a really sweet memory.”

“I’ll never forget it.” Adrien sighed. For a moment he looked so sad and Marinette wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have asked him. The memory of his mom probably hurt to think about. “What about you? What’s your most treasured memory?”

Now that was a tough one. She couldn’t really go into childhood stories since it would give away too much as to her identity. It was then she thought of the perfect story. “There is one memory I hold really close to my heart.” she said.

“I was on patrol one evening by myself. It was raining but I didn’t want to go home cause I was going through some stuff emotionally and I didn’t want to be cooped up. So I’m running and running and I almost slip off the roof. I realize I should take a break so I huddle under this awning of this closed cafe to catch my breath and see if the rain lets up. I’m waiting for maybe five minutes and because I’m not moving my emotions from before I starting to catch up to me. I’m on the verge of breaking down when out of nowhere Chat Noir lands on the sidewalk in front of me. I say land but he more or less faceplanted. He has a box covered in a plastic bag to keep it dry that he’s holding off the ground. He pulls himself up like he didn’t just have an intimate meeting with the concrete and walks over to me like it is the most casual thing in the world. Now mind you, I was not expecting to see him. I didn’t tell him I was coming out here nor did he have any idea where I was but he found me nonetheless.

“He huddles under the awning with me and takes the plastic bag off the box. I realize at this point it is a wrapped present. I ask him what this is supposed to be for and he tells me that since we don’t know when each other’s birthdays are he was going to pick a random day to give me a birthday present. And apparently this rainy evening was that day. I tried telling he didn’t need to but he insisted so I take the present and unwrap it. When I tell you, this idiot actually gifted me a black cat onesie with a cat ear hood and little toe beans on the feet. I started laughing and asked if he had a matching ladybug onesie and he told me he did. I start laughing harder and I can tell he thinks that I’m laughing at him so I quickly assure him I’m not. I tell him I really love the gift and I give him a hug. To him he probably thinks that he just gave me a nice present but in reality he pulled me back from a really sad place without even knowing it.

“Of course the second I got home I put the onesie on and started thinking of a birthday present I could get for him. I wanted it to be perfect as a sort of thank you for cheering me up when I was in a really bad mood. I never told him just how much that one little present, that one encounter, helped me but it did. I like to think about it whenever I get in a bad mood. Remembering his mop of drenched hair and that big expectant smile never fails to cheer me up.”

When she looked back at Adrien he looked close to tears. “Oh hey, are you okay? Did I say something? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he wiped at his eyes with his free hand, “It’s just, your friendship with him is great. I think that the next time you see him you should tell him how much that meant to you. I’m sure it would make him really happy.”

“I think I will,”

They got to Adrien’s house and they both stood frozen on the sidewalk. “Guess it’s time to say goodbye now.”

“Guess so,” Adrien stared up at the tall stone walls. “All good thinks must come to an end.”

“There are always more good times to come though.” Ladybug said, “Speaking of which, would you be interested in going on a second date sometime?”

“I would love to.” Adrien answered with a bright smile. “How do I get a hold of you?”

“I’ll come to you.” she let go of his hand to wrap around his waist. With a flick of her wrist she sent her yo-yo up and pulled them off the ground. They swung into his room and she deposited him back down safely. “Goodnight, Adrien. I had a wonderful time and I’ll be by to see you again soon.”

“Goodbye Ladybug. Tonight was...it was perfect.” He leaned in closer or maybe it was Marinette that leaned in but one of them leaned in. Then just as quickly they withdrew. Arms hugged close to their sides.

“I should get going,” Ladybug stumbled back towards the window. She poised to throw her yo-yo but she made the mistake of taking one final look back at Adrien. He was watching her with such a soft and loving expression. She couldn’t just end it like this.

She rushed back to him and kissed his cheek. “See you later, bye!” she fully vaulted herself out the window the next instant and booked it as fast as she could back home. She dropped down onto her balcony. Her heart was beating fast and her face ached from how hard she was smiling.

---

(Part 1) (Previous) (Probably another part cause I know no self control and you people enable me)

[splintergirl13]

So here is a little head cannon I thought of while reading your fan fic.

What if herobrine never had/celebrated his birthday so he forgot when it was, so Steve and Alex pick a day and celebrate his birthday with him. (P.s. sorry I have horrific grammer)

I liked this idea so much I made a little drabble under the read more :3 I hope it is worthy of such an great headcanon! Thank you so much for the ask! It fills me with joy to hear that people are thinking about my story lol <3. And don't worry. Grammar is hard and doesn't make any sense. I feel your pain

Before we dive in: this takes place pretty earlier into Steve and Brine becoming friends. So they are just starting to pine. Not in a relationship yet. Alex and Brine are still a little wary of each other but have come to accept that they are stuck with each other.

I'd say this is rated teen for just some small strong language lol

-

The Birthday Brine

-

It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon. Too nice to spend down in the mines. But a little too warm to do any strenuous activities.

So Alex and Steve decided to go on down to the small river they frequented on days like today. A secluded area where the water pooled deep enough to swim. And, of course, Herobrine tagged along. As was becoming more of the norm these days.

Steve was lying comfortably in the shade of a few trees on the bank of the river. Legs in the water; small waves lapped up to his knees as the water went by. Arms crossed behind his head. His shirt was off and laid over his eyes, shutting out any of the light that filtered through the leaves. Not really dozing off, but close to it.

Herobrine was similarly relaxing. He lay on his belly; balanced precariously on a nearby tree that had fallen over the river. Looking like a big cat lounging about in the direct sun. Soaking up the rays. One hand was draped down to the side, touching the cool water.

Alex was the only one fully in the river. She was a little upstream, floating on her back. She had taken off her pants, leaving them on the shore, and let her long green shirt cover her lower half. Every once in a while she would swim back to her original place as the current took her down towards Herobrine.

The trio had been chatting absentmindedly. Talking about anything, really. Steve ranted humorously about his pickaxe making a squeaking sound. Alex discussed way too many of the current happenings in town. Even Herobrine brought up that a dragonfly had landed on his shoulder. Which had the trio all staring for a bit before it flew off and they went back to their current positions.

It wasn't until a certain question came to Alex’s mind that the peace of the scene was disturbed.

"Hey Sparky." The adventurer asked. "...How old are you?"

Herobrine took a while to answer. Seeming to think through the question slowly. Finally he asked without opening his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Alex shrugged, swimming a little.

The demon shifted. Now peaking over to look at Steve. It was like the miner could tell that he was being looked at because he lifted his shirt to look back questioningly.

Herobrine spoke up. "When was the last time I respawned? Four months ago?"

Steve frowned. "Yes. More like three. You fell through a roof, remember?"

"Right, right." Herobrine moved his hand up out of the water. "Terribly made and rusty old structure. Glad it forced a respawn. Tetanus is not fun even with healing powers."

"Why is this relevant?" Alex asked impatiently.

"I'm 28." Herobrine said immediately.

Alex sat up in the water. Causing a bit of a ruckus amongst some fish that had gotten close. "No you're not!"

"Yes I am." Herobrine turned his attention to her. She shuddered ever so slightly under his scrutinizing stare. "Every time I die, I respawn back to the same age at which I turned immortal."

Alex crossed her hands over her chest. "Okay, well that's only technically. I meant, like, if you count ALL the years you've been alive."

"I have no fucking clue, Alex." Herobrine rolled his head to the otherside of the tree to ignore her. Yet continued to talk. "Time loses all meaning when you're immortal. Not to mention I was trapped in the nether for most of that time. So it's even harder to tell."

"What's your best guess?" Steve asked, now curious as well.

And the head came back around. Looking at Steve. The demon wouldn't ignore the miner. He bit his lip, eyes trailing towards the water. "I dunno... maybe a few centuries... a millennia or so..."

"Old." Steve clarified. Seeing that the demon was struggling a little.

"Yeah... old." Herobrine scowled.

"So, what, do we have to, like, wait until you live a year to celebrate your birthday?" Alex giggled. "No wonder you don't remember it. It would never be your birthday based on that criteria."

Herobrine scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah." Steve added, putting the shirt back over his eyes. "Come to think of it, when is your birthday, Brine?"

"You want to know the exact date I was born?" Herobrine sat up now, clearly confused. "Fuck... I don't know. I didn't even keep track of days back then. I just survived. It wasn't until I met... my brother that we talked about days. And he was able to do some weird 'code calculation' as he called it to figure out my true age. But we didn't really care about that. None of us counted in the aether. None of us wanted to count. When you have endless time you tend not to care. It's a depressing chore."

"So none of you celebrated your birthday?" Alex asked.

"Why would you celebrate your birth?" Herobrine growled. "Existence is a curse."

"That's why we have to celebrate!" Alex exclaimed. "It helps us mortals to forget about our fleeting existence."

"Yeah!" Steve enthusiastically raised a fist to the sky in agreement.

"Like the aether needed another reason to celebrate..." Herobrine grumbled, flopping back down on the tree. "The amount of bullshit dances I had to get dressed up for was astronomical."

"So you really have never had a birthday, huh?" Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"Nope." Herobrine said, popping the p and settling back on the tree. Thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But Steve and Alex had other plans.

"Bro you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You think we have enough time today?"

"Sure why not? We were already planning on going into town together."

"Then we better hurry."

"What are you two talking about?" Herobrine muttered. The siblings were getting out of the water and putting back on their clothes.

"We're going to throw you a birthday party!" Steve smiled over at him.

Herobrine almost fell off his branch.

"W-what? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, if you don't know what day your birthday is, it might as well be any day. And since we are already all together and don't have any plans for the rest of the evening... why not?"

Herobrine teleported off his tree and stood next to the two. "You really don't need to-"

"Too late, it's happening." Alex smiled. Starting to walk off. Not putting on her shoes as she walked through the increasingly tall grass.

"Go wait in the nether and come back around sunset!" Steve pushed on his back excitedly. As if he could shove him through a portal that wasn't there.

"Why?"

"We are gonna surprise you!"

"Oh. Yippee. Surprise." Herobrine did not mask his unenthusiasm.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Steve said as he stopped pushing and went to go join Alex.

Herobrine was left alone and very confused as to what had just happened. He blinked up at the setting sun and winced. He wouldn't know the correct time in the nether. So he decided to go back to his tree branch and relax until the time came. He had no idea what was in store for him. But he didn't try to think too hard about it. If he didn't like it he could always teleport away.

All this talk of aether and age had his head buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. He tried to will them away and think of nothing instead. Watching as the river flowed beneath him. The dragonfly landed back on his hands.

-

It was just after sunset when Herobrine was walking up to Steve's small house and knocking on the door. Steve was adamant about him knocking. As Herobrine had the tendency to just teleport into a location, unannounced. There was the sound of muffled talking as well as a wonderful smell of something cooking in the furnace.

He heard the miner walk towards the door, he recognized his footsteps easily. Much different than Alex’s.

Steve cracked open the door. "Herobrine, you have perfect timing! We are just finishing up."

Herobrine tried to move forward but Steve closed the door more. He smiled, shyly. "Er. You gotta close your eyes."

"... Why?"

Steve smiled wider. "It's all part of the process."

So Herobrine huffed and closed his eyes. Steve took him by the hand. Leading him inside. Herobrine could feel his heartbeat where they connected. The miner was excited. So Herobrine was excited.

He was led into the house and then Steve stopped and walked over to join where he could sense Alex.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Herobrine stood there with his eyes closed. Face oozing confusion.

"Open your eyes now, Brine." Steve whispered loudly to him.

"Oh." And he did. He blinked and took in the sight.

The inside of the house was decorated with a few colored strings on the ceiling and what seemed to be little torches everywhere else. It was very simple and yet very pretty.

"Do you like it?" Alex asked.

"We didn't have too much time to decorate so we made due with what we had." Steve said. "Probably not as fancy as your aether parties."

"No." Herobrine smiled. "But I like this better." The aether parties were always decorated with too much. This was nice and made Herobrine feel cozy.

Alex gestured to the table, patting the chair to sit down. "Since it's pretty late we figured we'd just do a birthday dinner. Steve said you would eat if we made you food."

Herobrine nodded. Glad he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. He wasn't the biggest fan of eating. Steve had been reintroducing it to him slowly. The miner was an excellent cook.

"Good!" Alex smiled. Steve sat next to Herobrine at the table. "I handled dinner and Steve handled the most important part of a birthday, the dessert!"

"It all smells nice." Herobrine commented politely. It did. He was actually excited to eat.

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. Preparing plates for them all. Steve and Herobrine shared a look. Both smiling, somewhat uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. It didn't last long as Alex came out with two plates, setting it down in front of them.

The meal consisted of roasted corn, slathered in butter, some sort of shredded pork on bread with some sweet sauce, and a cold potato salad. Steve instantly dug in. Probably hungry from all the work they had been doing. Herobrine waited for Alex to return with her own plate before starting to pick at the food. It wasn't long before he was eating more sloppily than Steve. Alex apologized, saying she wanted to make something more special like a smoked biscuit but Herobrine wasn't sure why she was sorry. It was all delicious. And Herobrine found himself wanting to eat the entire plate. It was the perfect meal on the warm night.

The house was filled with the delightful sounds of eating. None of them talked very much. Not needing to. Just enjoying each other’s company. And the food! They were all very invested in the food.

Once they were done, Herobrine was tempted to ask for more. But he remembered that there was still dessert to eat. He started to try to clean up his plate. But Steve stopped him immediately. "Ah, ah. No dishes when it's your birthday."

"Hmm. This birthday business keeps getting better." Herobrine smirked at him.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates filled with two generous slices of homemade chocolate cake.

He set them down in front of Alex and his own seats. "We have a special slice for you, Herobrine. Hold on."

Steve rushed away and walked slowly back with a similar piece of cake. But this one had a very tiny torch stuck in the middle of it. Herobrine blinked. Huh. Strange.

"It's a candle." Steve explained. "It's a tradition to have some on your cake. We only had this old one." He set the on fire cake in front of him. Herobrine enjoyed the fire flare. "Usually you have a candle for every year you've been alive."

"But that would've set the house on fire." Alex snickered.

Herobrine rolled his eyes and tried to grab his fork. But Alex stopped him. "Wait! We have to sing to you!"

"Er, no thanks." That seemed silly. He did not want to be sung to.

Steve made a face. "I don't like that part either. I think we should skip it."

"We have to! It's tradition!" Alex wrapped her elbow around Steve’s neck. "Come on, Stevie. One time!"

"Alright. Alright." He caved easily. And they began.

Herobrine sat awkwardly as the two sang a little song. Saying his name. Herobrine had never heard Steve sing. It was nice. He had a pleasant voice. He thought the man should sing more. He hummed a lot but never truly sang.

Once they were done. Alex said. "Now you make a wish and blow out the candle."

"A wish? Wish for what?"

"For anything." Steve added. "But you have to wish in your head. And don't tell anyone or your wish won't come true."

"Like a curse?"

"Yeah kinda. But it's just for fun."

The demon chewed on his lip. Seeming to think about it. He nodded eventually. "Okay. I've made my wish."

"Now blow out the candle to complete the spell." Alex joked. Steve nudged her.

Herobrine looked at the small torch on the cake and willed the fire away. It went out.

Alex and Steve stared. Alex giggled. "Guess there's more than one way to skin an ocelot."

"Why would you-" Herobrine blinked.

"It's an expression." Steve laughed, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his piece of cake. "Ignore her and dig in while the cake is still warm."

Herobrine did, setting the small torch- candle aside and picking up his fork to eat. The cake looked moist. Fresh. And smelled absolutely delicious. His mouth was watering before he even put the treat in his mouth.

When he took a bite he almost moaned. "H-holy fuck." He quickly took another bite.

Alex giggled. "Never had a Steve-made cake have you?"

"Steve, you should stop cooking everything and just make cake from now on." Herobrine had almost finished his piece already. It was just so damn good. He couldn't stop.

"Then it wouldn't be special." Steve chuckled. Looking happy that they both seemed to be enjoying his cake.

"Can I have more?" Herobrine asked, frosting definitely smeared all over his face, unabashedly.

Steve and Alex howled at that. The demon just looked so different from how they normally saw him. It was nice. And also hilarious.

Herobeine got a second slice and sat back, looking full. The demon didn't usually eat so it was a lot all at once. Totally worth it though.

"Present time!" Alex jumped up from the table as Steve moved the dishes into the kitchen.

"Present time?" Herobrine parroted.

"You get presents on your birthday!" Alex walked over to grab two things that had been set aside on a coffee table. "From everyone who comes to the party."

Alex handed Steve something and walked back to the table to give Herobrine a rectangle that looked like a book wrapped in paper. Herobrine took it confused. "Er, thanks?" He held it in his hands.

"You gotta open it dude!" Alex said excitedly.

"Open it?"

"Yeah tear open the paper!"

"Oh." Herobrine, a demon of destruction, ironically opened the book very carefully. Not wanting to damage it.

He held the book up once it was unwrapped. It was, indeed, a book. Not too hard to guess correctly.

"It's a book of modern day phrases." Alex explained. Tapping the cover. She smirked. "I know that you have some trouble with some of our more modern hip lingo."

Herobrine lifted an eyebrow at her. He flipped to a random page. "There's more than one way to skin an ocelot? Oh. I get your 'joke' now."

"See. You're learning already." She snickered. Steve smiled too.

Herobrine looked confused. But not unappreciative. He waved his hand, tucking the book away into his inventory. "Er, thanks. I will read the rest later."

"No problem!" She giggled. She then pushed Steve forward. "Go ahead, your turn."

Steve had a paper package tied up in butcher's twine behind his back. He coughed and walked forward, handing Herobrine the parcel.

The demon took it. Knowing what to do now, he tore into the paper. Revealing what was inside.

He paused when he realized what it was after pulling all the paper off and letting it float to the ground.

"It's... your cloak." Herobrine said. Not giving away any emotion. Steve seemed to droop a little. Expecting him to be a little happier. Alex nudged the miner. They shared a look. Steve rolled his eyes. He walked closer to the demon, touching the cloak in his hands.

"I knew it would already fit you. And there wasn't enough time to get you a new one made. I just know how much you like to borrow it from me when it gets colder." Steve ran his fingers along the cloak. Pointing out some stitching on the green material. "I sewed up all the holes so it won't be as drafty. And-" He tapped the button that held the cloak together. "I replaced the old latch with a golden one I got from town today. I know you said you like to wear a little gold in the nether for piglin respect or... whatever." The miner let go of the cloak and backed up, rubbing his head awkwardly.

Herobrine stared at the green gloak. Rubbing the material in his fingers.

"If... if you don't like-"

"I love it." Herobrine almost whispered. Sounding so genuine it made Steve blush and Alex smile. "It's perfect."

"O-oh." Steve scratched his head again. "Good. I'm glad." He smiled, looking away. Desperately trying to hide his blush. He had gone bright red. And Herobrine wasn't helping.

The demon stood instantly and put the cloak around his body. He had worn it before. But it looked different now. Like it was his now. It was truly his.

Herobrine looked up at Steve. "This is... the greatest gift I've ever been given." He didn't smile but his glowing eyes said it all. He was absolutely telling the truth. "Thank you, Steven."

The miner stared back. Smiling to the side and tilting his head. Embarrassed but screaming on the inside in happiness.

Alex had to butt in. Not liking the way the two were looking at each other and getting a little protective of Steve. "Pfft. Thanks a lot there, Briney boy. Glad my gift meant nothing."

Herobrine blinked. Processing the words. And then realized. "Oh, no, sorry Alex. Thank you as well."

"Yeah whatever." Alex nudged him with her fist, walking past him. She then let out a yawn. "Well. I think I'm all birthday partied out. Mind if I crash on your couch, Stevie? It's too late to walk home."

"Sure I'll get you some blankets." Steve mimicked the yawn. His eyes looked tired. They did do a lot to put the party together for him. They deserved a rest. "Happy Birthday, Brine."

"Thank you." Herobrine nodded. "Thank you both. This was... enjoyable."

"See our traditions aren't so bad." Alex said, flopping down on the couch.

"I do believe I've judged it too early." Herobrine nodded. "You do this every year?"

"Yep. And you get to do the planning and gift giving to us when it's our birthdays. No party is exactly the same." Alex nodded. "I think planning is actually more fun than celebrating your own birthday."

"Oh. Well I look forward to that. You will have to remind me when the time comes. Time is... difficult for me."

"Of course, dude." Steve produced some blankets from the closet. Herobrine sensed it was time to make his leave. He headed for the door.

"Thank you again." He said a little awkwardly. "I will uh, see you both tomorrow."

"Sounds good!" "Bye!" The siblings said.

And with Herobrine out the door. Steve and Alex looked at each other.

"I think that went well." Steve said.

"I think you owe me money for not making a single birthday suit joke." Alex said back. He threw the blankets over her head as she giggled.

"Goodnight Alex!" He went to his bedroom, trying to hide his blush. "Put out the candles before you sleep."

"I'm just saying, Stevie! That would've been a better gift if you-"

"Goodnight Alex!!"

Herobrine stood just outside the door. He wiggled his shoulders a little. Feeling the soft weight of the cloth around his shoulders. He smiled. Feeling warm inside and out. And teleported off.

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

fourteen

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: a last minute trip

disclaimer: cameras, small talk of family

Sometimes, I think you get the worst of me

“Can I take a photo of you?”

Avery turns her head to look at Harry. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the green sofa with Oliver in his lap. His camera clutched in his hands.

“I always look so sick in photos.” Her head falls back on the cushion as she closes her eyes, momentarily resting them. She thinks back to the dream she had a couple of nights ago, the scenes playing in her head like her own personal movie. The scenes playing before her closed eyes were better ones, happier things were happening. She was glad that she got a small break from what they usually entailed.

Soon, the sound of a camera shutter breaks her peaceful daze. The streetlamps illuminated the ceiling, giving it a soft, yellow glow. Avery wasn’t sure that she had ever really looked at the pattern on her ceiling until now, though countless nights were spent exactly like this. “We should go to the beach.”

The ceiling is divided into squares with thick edges, and with the glow from the streetlamps, it almost looked like a cloudy night sky. “We can’t just go to the beach.”

“Why not?” Harry questions, the shutter click echoing through the apartment again. “Me and my mom used to drive down to East Sussex.” Third click. “Camber Sands is down there. If we left now, we would be there by the time the sun rises.”

“I'm tired Harry, and that's got to be at least a two and a half-hour drive.”

“Everything is different by the sea, Ave. Have you ever been?”

“No…”

“Then it's settled. Let’s go.” The fourth time the camera goes off makes her turn around, but Harry is already quick on his feet, scaring Oliver in the process. He makes a quick escape through the open balcony window.

“I don't know…”

“I'll buy you ice cream. Three scoops.”

“Four.”

“Deal.” He puts on his boots and retrieves his keys from the counter while Avery watches him from her spot on the sofa.

“Are you serious?” She giggles as Harry puts his camera around his neck, waiting for her to follow him.

“Life is to be lived, Ave.”

‘So she grabs another hoodie, a blanket, and a bottle of water before making her way towards him. As they descended down the stairs, for the first time she could see the different colors around her. She had always been able to see them, but this time it was different. Everything seems so much more vibrant

She saw different shades of yellow and green, even a little bit of red. It wasn’t just blue, blue, blue. Avery runs after Harry, after the colors because the further away he is, the darker it gets. She picks up her pace, trying to catch up with him.

“Thought I’d leave without you?” He grins, holding the passenger door of the car open for her.

“No.” She lies with a smile, trying to just enjoy this moment. This moment is now, and she doesn’t want to be stuck in the past any longer.

“My sister used to take this car a lot, so there's got to be a hair tie somewhere,” Harry says, his eyes moving back and forth between the dark street in front of them and the interior of the car. “Take a look in the glove compartment.”

He’s right. Under numerous papers that had been shoved inside the small space was a leopard print scrunchie. “Found one!” Avery cheers, putting her hair in a low ponytail. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yeah, her name is Gemma, she lives abroad.” He explains. “In a way, her job reminds me a lot of Chandler Bing, because I’ve honestly no clue what she really does, but she travels a lot for it.”

“That must be difficult, I don't know if I could do that. Pack up my life every six months.”

“It's quite perfect for her, I think she would go crazy if she had to stay in a single place for longer than a year or two. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“No,” She says quietly. “And, if I’m honest, I didn't want any.”

“Isn’t a sibling something everyone wants?”

“I guess I just… they don’t deserve that… no one does…”

He stays quiet for a while after that. Did I say too much? The air suddenly felt colder, so many unanswered questions flying about. Harry couldn't find the right one to ask, so he just went with the basics. “What's your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Ha! That's the color of my eyes, does that mean you fancy me?” a childish grin plastered onto his face.

“What? Your eyes are not green. Look at me!” She knew they were green, it was hard not to notice. But, she wanted to feed into his antics for a bit. It seemed to be lifting the tension.

“I’m driving, Ave. That's not gonna work.” He laughs, focusing his gaze back on the road as more cars started to make their way onto the once quiet street.

“Harry?’’

“Hm?”

“Who is your roommate? At your party I had accidentally stumbled into a bedroom, thinking it was the bathroom. There was a guy in there by himself.” She had never told him about the strange encounter she had that night, thinking that Harry would have asked her about it at some point. After not being brought up for some time, she figured he wasn’t going to and left it at that.

“Oh, you mean Francis… you met? He didn't mention anything.”

“He had told me that several other people had walked into his room instead of the bathroom, that's probably why… so, he’s your friend?”

“Yeah… we’ve known each other for ages, since about grade one I believe.” There is something in his voice that doesn't seem right. He seemed saddened by the sudden mention of his friend, almost like he hadn't fully prepared for the topic to be brought up.

“Francis is probably the kindest, most generous person I know. He is much better than me, and I honestly don't know why he has stuck with me for this long. You should meet him. He's not fond of meeting new people, but nevertheless, he would be nothing but nice to you.”

“I'd love that.” Avery smiles. The smile doesn’t leave her face while Harry continues on about Francis.

“We should have taken him with us.”

“He is with his parents at the moment.”

“Oh, well maybe next time.”

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs. “Next time.”

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Day 3: Views of the surface world(ish)

I'm following the prompts, but then I'm kinda not :p

He hated it. Hated how dead and ruined it looked. Hated the rotting smell of the earth in the wind. Hated the ruins that littered the wasteland and hated the inhabitants that called it home. No, it wasn’t a home—it was a hovel.

Each of his times traversing the Commonwealth had always made him relieved to return to the cleanliness of the Institute. Each time he came back from an assignment, he made it a point to shower as if he could smell the rotting smell of the surface on him. How anyone could stand the smell was beyond him.

Only once before did he have to spend more time than usual out on the surface. And he hated it.

“If you scowl harder, time might just go by much faster,” when he refused to stop scowling, Sole leaned forward in their seat, hands reaching up to touch his face. He catches it before they manage to touch him, and moves it away from him, “C’mon, turn that frown upside down.”

“No.”

“No?” They sigh, “One day on the surface will not kill you.”

“It’s not just that—”

“It’s also the two sentry bots outside the door, and your damaged teleporter, I know. Oh, did I mention that we were underground?” They chuckle, fully aware of his irritation. They made fun of his dislike for the surface every time they decided to travel with him, and since then, he’s been regretting his decision to tell them about it.

Sole, however, saw things differently than he did. They saw the ‘good’ that was still left in the world, whereas he only saw husks of humanity trying to bring themselves back. It would be better if they didn’t, as to not have another repeated nuclear annihilation, seeing as humans were incredibly destructive.

They tried explaining to him that the surface still had things you could enjoy—Nuka Cola, snack cakes (though he would never tell them, happened to be the only thing he liked about the surface…), untouched books, and the night sky, (in which he hated looking at from a certain point because of his ‘fear’ of heights)—but still his opinion had not changed.

“Why do you hate the surface so much?” They question after a moment’s silence, “I mean, all that hatred, there must be a real reason.”

“Everything up here makes me feel disgusting.”

“Yeah, the ferals aren’t the kind of zombies I expected two hundred years later—”

“But it may surprise you to find that there are few things that I like up here.”

Sole gaped, “No way. Tell me.”

“I like cats. They don’t bother me as much as you do.”

“Are you saying I’m a dog?”

“I’m saying you bothering me.”

While, yes, he liked Fancy Lads and cats, he still didn’t like everything else about the Commonwealth. Maybe he’d try reading one of the old books they had given him in apology for accidentally crushing his shades under their foot.

“Not everything is bad, X. Try to open yourself up to more possibilities.”

“Like what?”

They lean back, eyes going to the barred door, “Read a book, stargaze, come with me to Starlight for movie night if you want, but don’t say that everything is bad when you haven’t even experienced most of the world yet. That’s stupid programming making you think that all is bad.”

Programming. He could go against his programming if he dared. The thought struck him as they stood and stretched. “I hate heights.”

“I know,” they grinned.

“I hate water.”

“Can’t you swim?”

He nodded, “I will read the book you gave me.” Sole squealed, loud enough that he had to cover their mouth with annoyance, “But if only you stop bothering me about the book.”

“Can’t promise anything but sure.”

He also found that he liked reading in his spare time. Synths within the Institute had only a limited amount of reading material before everything ended up being read five or six times. So sometimes a book would find itself ‘misplaced or mysteriously had found its way inside the library.

That was one of the few times he had disobeyed his programming.