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#so much fluff
shurikthereject · 19 days
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I've heard this headcannon once or twice saying that Hobbit's sleep in piles. So i had to interpret that but with Thorin, Bilbo and Frodo, in the end i had the fluffiest family feels doodle ever.
I think Frodo would definitely be a kicker when he sleeps. And when he's sleeping with Bilbo and Thorin and gets out of control with his kicking (Thorin being his main victim), he has to get carried back into his own bed.
Thorin would snore, especially when hes comfortable and is feeling safe. When he snores, he's probably also having the best sleep ever. Bilbo got used to dwarrow snoring while travelling with thirteen of them and Frodo's a heavy sleeper (he could sleep upside down if he wanted) so it never became a problem.
If you have more ideas you'd like to share feel free to comment! I truly appreciate it <333
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starry-bi-sky · 5 months
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i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.
but first, let me set the au:
Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.
(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)
And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.
(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)
(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)
He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"
Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."
The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.
In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)
(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)
In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.
Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.
On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"
Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."
Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.
When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.
Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.
Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.
"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.
But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."
"A-Listers?"
"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."
Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"
And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."
Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.
Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.
"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.
"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."
Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.
"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'
In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?
Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.
No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.
Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.
-
They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.
"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.
He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."
"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.
"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."
To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.
"You what!?"
So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.
(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)
"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.
Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."
He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.
He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.
(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)
"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."
Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.
"What?" Danny croaks.
-
Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?
He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.
God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.
He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.
It makes sense, he supposes.
It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.
Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."
Tim snorts at him.
The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.
If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.
"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.
Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"
Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.
Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.
"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.
-
Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.
it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.
Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.
Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.
It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.
Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.
"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.
Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.
Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"
Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.
"That's not healthy."
"Mhm."
"Are you going to eat something?"
"Mhhh."
And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.
"Yes?"
"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.
Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.
Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."
He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."
"That's not what I mean and you know it."
"I don't want to go eat."
"It's not good for you to skip meals."
"Quit talking like Jazz."
"Danny."
Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.
"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.
Dick blinks at him. "What?"
"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."
Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."
"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders
"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.
The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.
Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.
"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."
Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."
-
Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.
Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.
He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.
("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.
Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.
"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."
Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)
Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.
Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.
Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.
He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.
Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.
("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.
"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."
"Ah.")
When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.
"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."
That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."
Danny is still serious. "Not to me."
He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.
Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.
Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.
"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.
"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."
He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."
Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"
In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.
This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.
There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."
Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.
"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"
The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"
"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.
"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."
Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.
That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.
Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.
"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.
"Buzz?"
"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."
He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."
Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.
-
When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.
Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.
He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.
He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.
Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."
Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.
But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"
He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.
It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.
Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.
They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.
("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.
"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."
Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)
Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.
Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.
He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.
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alastor-simp · 3 months
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"I See No Fear In Your Eyes." - Alastor x Reader
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(This story includes some of the pilot from Hazbin Hotel)
"Oh no, that didn't go as planned." Switching off the TV in the hotel lobby, you heaved a sigh. You had just seen the 666 news broadcast that showed Charlie explaining the hotel and redeeming demons. She had broken into song, and ended up being laughed at by the residents watching. It slowly became worse when Angel appeared on the news, during a turf war with some snake guy, making Charlie's situation worse. Soon after that the interview turned into an all out brawl between Katie Killjoy and Charlie, leading to the camera to cut off. Your name was Y/N, and you had just arrived in Hell five days ago. The fall you experienced was not pleasant, almost causing broken bones. Charlie happened to be in the area, and rushed you back to the Hotel. It took you a while to process it, but you soon realized you were in Hell, which confused you since you never sinned in your life. Charlie was nice enough to explain everything to you, as well as how she was the princess of hell.
Well that definitely shocked you when she told you that. How could the princess of hell be such a sweet and kind individual? Her personality was like a warm hug, very inviting. After she patched you up, she introduced you to Vaggie, her girlfriend, and Angel Dust, their first patron. Smiling, you introduced yourself, which caused a smirk from Angel Dust and a slight glare from Vaggie until she calmed down and shook your hand. Inspired by Charlies ideas, you volunteered to help with her dreams for the Hotel, earning a giant hug from her. There were many things that needed improvement here, so it was decided that advertising and handling the front desk would be suitable.
Soon the door to the lobby opened, where Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie walked in. Vaggie clearly had a migraine, with the way she rubbed her head, and slouched on the couch. Angel Dust had grabbed a popsicle from the cooler, licking it. Charlie took a seat on a crate, appearing very distraught. Angel Dust made a comment about getting more food for the hotel, since there should be a boatload of sinners making their way here. "Not helping Angel" you thought to yourself. Charlie sunk down more on the crate, making Angel feel bad, but he wasn't good with comfort so he walked to the couch where Vaggie was staying. Moving closer to Charlie, you placed a hand on her back, rubbing circles. "Are you okay?" you asked. Charlie looked up and smiled, yet it seemed forced. She jumped off the crate and went to the door, heading outside. Wondering what she was doing, your feet carried you to the door. Leaning closer to hear her, it appeared she was calling someone. Her mom? It was a bit hard to hear, but you heard the lines of "Dad was right about me." Oh no, Charlie. The aching in your heart was painful. Once she came back inside, she was looking at the ground. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her into a hug. Charlie tensed, but eased into it, whispering a thanks. "You are trying your best Charlie. This project will be rocky, but its not impossible. Me and everyone here will support you. Trust me." Charlie squeezed back at your words, until she let go. The smile on her face was bright, vibrant. She appeared to be feeling better. Motioning your head to Vaggie, you told her to sit with her girlfriend. Nodding, she walked towards the couch, joining the others.
"Knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock" Sounds of knocking began to resonated from the lobby door. "Who could that be?" Opening the door, you look to see who it was. Standing in front of you was a very tall man. He was wearing a striped red suit, that matched his pants. His face adorned a monocle and a microphone was in one of his hands. The most noticeable thing on him was his smile, outstretched. to inhumane proportions. His eyes glowed a crimson red, as he gazed below to look at you. "Hellooooooo~!" came from his mouth, sounding like static. Opening the door further, you smiled: "Hello sir! How may I help you?"
***Alastor POV***
Alastor continued to gaze at the little demon in front of him, smiling widely back at him. "What a strange reaction!" He thought to himself. He expected a scream of terror or the sound of the door slamming against him, but not this. The eyes that peered back at him were sparkling, no fear contained in them whatsoever. "Is everything okay?" The demon in front of him, tiled her head, worried as to why he went silent. Shaking his head, Alastor remembered what he came here for.
***Your POV***
The man in front of you seemed to be thinking hard, before he bent down to your level. "Alastor my dear! Pleasure to be meeting you! Quite a pleasure!" His hand had grabbed yours, pulling you closer to his face, before shaking it enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you Alastor. My name is Y/N." you said, shaking his hand back. Alastor's smile got wider. "Ah! What a charming name!" His hand let go of yours, before he stood up to his regular height. Thanking him for the compliment, you moved to push the door back: "Would you like to come in?" you asked, moving your hand towards the door, motioning him to enter. Alastor smiled, showing more of his sharp teeth. "Why thank you my dear!" He entered inside the hotel, while you moved away from the door to close it. There was the sound of metal being drawn, causing you to jump. Vaggie had appeared in front of Alastor, holding a sharp spear. ""STOP RIGHT THERE! Cabrón hijo de perra! I know your game. And I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here! You pompous, cheesy, talk show shitlord!" Vaggie was glaring at the man, furiously as she held the spear against his chest. Stepping between the both of them, you raised your hand. "WOAH WOAH! Vaggie! What are you doing?!" The action you did was enough for Vaggie to drop the spear down, but she was still gazing at the both of you in anger "I'm defending this hotel! That's the radio demon, the most powerful being in all of Hell!"
***Alastor POV***
Alastor was left a bit in shock at what you just did. He had just met you and here you were, stepping in to stop the other demon. "Quite bizzare!" He thought. He had heard the other demon, Vaggie, tell you that he was the radio demon, most feared in hell. He observed you listening to Vaggie, letting you know who he really was. Excitement filled him, waiting for those eyes of yours to become struck with fear. Surprisingly, when you turned around to look him up and down, he saw no fear once again. Why? "He doesn't seem so bad." he heard you say as you smiled at him, before looking back at Vaggie. "Oh ho! I think I'm going to like this one!" The sharpness in his smile got bigger, as he walked a bit closer to the both of you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a closed eye smile, as he pushed you gently back, before turning back towards Vaggie. ""Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here, ̵̹̇͜I̸̻͆ ̶̰̏̍w̵̝̟͒́o̴̤̾ū̶̗͘͜l̶͚͂͝d̶̼͎̉͐ ̷̝̘͗̉h̸̫͌͊á̶͖͉v̶̺͚̋̇e̶̮̽ ̴̼̞͌d̸͙͚͋ǒ̸̤͎͑ň̴̠̟̕e̵̢̛̓ ̸̞͗͜͝s̶̺̹̾ǫ̷͋̚ ̴̼͋͋a̶̜̻̒̒l̸͓̙̃̉r̶̞͛ě̸̖̟̈́a̵̗͊d̷̦̔y̵̙͙̽͒.̵̹͝"
Vaggie’s eyes were glazed over with shock from Al's display of power. However, you were gazing at Al with slight fascination. A bit shocked, yes, but not scared. He apparently wanted to help out with the hotel, shocking both Charlie and Vaggie. Despite seeing it as wacky nonsense, he wanted to volunteer his services to Charlie while also getting some entertainment out of it. Husk and Niffty were added into the mix after that.
**Few Months Later**
It had been a while since that whole ordeal. It was still difficult to find new patrons for the hotel, but it was coming along. The snake guy you saw on 666 news, Sir pentious, had joined in the program as well. He was like an evil mad scientist/inventor, except evil didn't quite fit the bill for him. He was a softie and a gentleman, and you were glad he decided to give the hotel a try. The relationships you had with everyone grew the more you stayed with them. The relationship you had with Alastor was the most surprising to everyone. The two of you were like two peas in a pod. His mannerisms and dad jokes always brightened your day. The kindness in your soul as well as the genuine concern for his well being warmed his cold heart. Alastor was still baffled with how you were with him. It was an unusual feeling, to have a person who knew who he was and what he did in Hell and his past, and still treat him normally. There were moments where he imagined you were hiding your true feelings underneath the kind gestures and smiles you gave him, and he hoped that was the case, but at the same time he didn't want it to be.
Inside his radio tower, he was giving one of his signature broadcasts. The only difference in is that you were in the room. There was a small corner where you were sitting. Your irises scanned the book in front of you while your ears listened to Alastor's voice. Al was told time and time again that his voice was one of a kind by you, which left him slightly bashful. It led to you eventually hanging around his workspace, just to listen to him, but also to spend more time together. Taking a slight break, his blood red eyes beamed over towards you, observing you. There were still nagging thoughts in the back of his mind, and it was driving him to the point of insanity, if they were not answered.
"My dear, may I ask you a small question?" He turned his body around, chair spinning to face you. Looking up from your book, you smiled and set it down. Getting up, you walked closer to him: "Yes Al? What is it?" Snapping his fingers, the chair that you were sitting on before levitated to where you stand, motioning you to sit back down. As you did so, your eyes continued to look at Al. His smile never left his face, but his eyes held an emotion you couldn't decipher. Confusion? Melancholy? "This had been meddling in my mind for quite some time. I have been around for a millennium in hell and the fearful gazes were always common to see. However! Your eyes never shown an ounce of fear during our time together." After his dialogue, he waited to hear what you had to say. A bit shocked at Al's question, you looked at him, wondering what brought this up. Hesitantly, you asked for his hand. Raising his eyebrow, he pondered why, yet he still extended his hand out, like he was giving a handshake.
Laughing at his antics, you grabbed his hand, holding it upright in front of both of you. Webbing your fingers together, you filled the gaps between them, causing Al to tense a bit. "I'm sure since you are the radio demon, you were prone to being run from and feared. But, there is more to you then just the radio demon, feared overlord in Hell. Something about you intrigued me the first day you arrived. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I wanted to know more about you. The more I got to spend time with you, is when I started to learn more about you, the real you. You're gentleman, bit wacky yet polite. You tell funny dad jokes to everyone. You're handsome as hell. You are an amazing cook. You speak French. Your singing is incredible plus your dancing. The static nature of your voice is soothing. The confidence you carry towards your foes is admirable. The power you yield is dark, but has its beauty too. You have a kind heart, despite hiding it from others. That's the Al I have gotten to know and care for, and despite your past and misdeeds. I will never grow to fear you ever."
Stunned was the correct way to put what state he was left in after your small speech. The whole time he was listening to you, the faster his heart raced. All those words that came flowing out of your mouth was giving him goosebumps and an odd sensation in his stomach. His other hand went to cover his face before moving down to cover his mouth, failing to conceal his rosy cheeks. "I-I see." Words were hard for him at the moment. “Haha. This is the first time I have ever seen you speechless.” Leaning closer towards him, you admired him up close. His microphone played a laugh track after you said that, causing Al to become more flustered, darting his eyes away.
Getting up from your seat, you were still holding his hand. “Al, look at me.” A hand was placed against his cheek. Gazing back over to you, Alastor removed his hand that was covering his mouth. The signature smile was gone, and on his face was a very small grin. Moving slowly, your lips had made their way to his forehead, giving it a peck. Radio screech! You were going to be the end of him. Heaving a deep sigh, his hand laid upon yours that was attached to his cheek. His eyes looking back at you were tender. “Thank you, my dear.”
-END-
Tagging:
@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked , @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 -0, @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka @alastorsgoldie
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natalievoncatte · 13 days
Text
The palm-print panel was cool under Lena’s touch. She pressed her hand to the rectangular plate next to her front door and waited for the brief moment it needed to scan her skin. The door unlocked with a meaty thump and she pushed it open with her other hand, absently checking her phone as she stepped inside. As the system scanned her biometrics, it detected stress and dimmed the lights, automatically turned on the television to an abstract screen saver with cool tones, and began to play an arrangement for a violins to soothe her nerves.
She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where she skipped the countertop wine cellar and pulled out the half-empty box of Trader Joe’s vintage that she’d taken a liking to thanks to Kara. She pours herself half a tumbler full as a silent fuck you to her mother and took a swig, then walked out into her living room to sit down in the gloom for a few minutes and think.
Supergirl was sitting on her couch, head flopped back over the back so that her hair fanned out across the white leather. She sat splayed with her knees apart and legs out, arms resting on her thighs. Lena wasn’t sure if she was awake.
As she drew closer, she caught a small gasp. Supergirl had a black eye, and there were scrapes on her cheeks and the backs of her hands, the blood barely crusted. Both her hands and her face were bruised and she had a tiny split in her lip.
Lena placed the wine on the table, nerves jangling when the bottom rattled against the pale marble from the shaking of her hand. Her heart raced as she drew closer. Supergirl had taken off her cape and draped it over the couch. It was none the worse for wear but was covered in scorch marks.
Suoergirl’s broad chest heaved once and she let out a long, pained sigh.
“Hi.”
“Hello, Supergirl.”
She let out a little laugh, wincing. “Do we need be so formal?”
“I don’t have anything else to call you,” Lena said, coolly. “Mind if I ask why you’re in my apartment?”
“You don’t lock the balcony doors. You should.”
Lena sighed and folded her arms. “I said why, not how.”
Supergirl didn’t look at her.
“I just got the snot beaten out of me. Everything hurts.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
How was it possible? Curiosity tugged at her, but concern shot through it, making her fidget with her hands. Lena hated fidgeting. It made her look weak, and she could still remember the pain when Lillian cracked the ruler across her knuckles to break the habit.
“Can I have some wine?”
Lena swallowed hard.
“Sure,” she said.
She went to the kitchen and poured. When she returned to the living room, Supergirl was sitting up, hunched forward and leaning on he knees. Lena started a little at the sight. Sitting that way displayed the wide, muscular set of her shoulders and arms, especially her meaty biceps. Her back was a rare sight -she wore a cape, after all- and just as exquisitely muscled.
She was looking at her hands, at the damage to her muscles. Lena offered the glass and she took it. Her fingers were warm when they brushed against Lena’s, strangely soft.
Supergirl took a long pull of wine and smacked her lips, then winced.
“It’s times like this I wish I could get drunk.”
“You can’t?”
“Not on wine and not for very long.”
“Interesting.”
“So I have a problem,” Supergirl said. She was still looking at her hands.
“And that is?”
“I have to call off work tomorrow. These will heal, and I’ll look exactly the same. I don’t get scars anymore. But they’ll be visible for a day or so.”
“I see.”
“But I have to get brunch with someone, and they’ll be able to tell. Concealer won’t do much for this.” She touched her eye, wincing.
“Wait here,” said Lena.
She came back a moment later with some wash clothes soaked in cold water on a tray. Hands still shaking a little as she placed it on the table. Tenderly, she took one of the washcloths and dabbed the back of Supergirl’s hands, cleaning away the grime and dried blood from the abrasions.
Supergirl sighed. “That feels good. Thank you.”
“May I?” said Lena.
Supergirl hesitated, doubt flashing deep within the endless depths of her blue eyes, but she turned to Lena and tilted up her chin. With shaking fingers, Lena cupped Supergirl’s face gently and used a fresh cloth to clean and cool the cut on her lip. Supergirl closed her eyes and sighed.
Lena’s eyes wandered up, to the small mark above her eye.
“You don’t scar. Did you get that on Krypton?”
“Yes. I slipped and fell when I was a little girl. You should have seen me. I bled all over.”
“Must be nice, not getting hurt anymore. Not feeling pain.”
“I still feel it.”
Lena paused.
“I feel every bullet and blow and bomb blast just like anyone would,” said Supergirl. Just because it doesn’t harm me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay,” said Supergirl.
She opened her eyes -eye- and looked at Lena reverently, one pretty blue eye glittering while the other remained bruised shut. She smiled a lopsided, honest smile, looked at Lena in a dreamy, almost adoring way that-
Wait.
“Oh my God,” Lena breathed.
“Hi,” said Kara.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lena whispered. “Oh my God, what happened, how did this happen to you? You’re hurt!”
“I had a tough time with a very determined alien and had to worry about civilians,” said Kara. “It happens.”
Lena’s pulse raced and her breath quickened. Her gaze darted, searching and noticing every detail. She was so beautiful, and she was so Kara.
“Why now?” said Lena. “Why this time?”
“I don’t know.”
Lena bit her lip, and the tiny gesture had a noticeable impact on Kara. Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to Lena’s bottom lip, then flicked back up.
“So your brunch,” said Lena. “That was with me.”
“Yeah. I thought about cancelling but I can’t. I needed to see you now.”
Lena shifted closer on the couch, until they were hip to hip.
“Why?”
“Because I just got punched in the head by an alien with big stupid bone spurs coming out of his fist and I need to see you. I won, by the way. It was really cool. I ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground and hit him with it.”
Lena looked her up and down. Her jaw began to quiver.
“Oh God. Is it worse than it looks? Are you hurt worse than you look, Kara? Are you…”
Kara shook her head, then winced. “No. Not that bad, promise. I just…” she sighed. “I’m tired of going to lay on a sunbed and going back to my empty apartment and spend a sick day napping on the couch.”
Lena let out a slow breath. “So you came to see me.”
“Yuuup,” Kara said, slowly.
Lena shifted awkwardly in her seat. Kara slowly reached over with her now clean hand and curled her fingers around Lena’s chin.
“Lena?” she whispered. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
Kara turned and leaned into her, pressing the slightest, lightest kiss to Lena’s lips, not a quick peck but something slow and soft, warm and inviting.
“Ow,” Kara muttered.
“Kara,” Lena whispered.
“I have any idea. Since I can’t make brunch… how about breakfast?”
Lena leaned against her, gently draping her arms around her as they fell back into the soft cushions together.
“Okay.”
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weasleyreidstyles · 1 month
Text
a game of wizards chess on a rainy day
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~∞~ i've never written for enzo before but my mutuals (love you all🫶🏼) have slowly been turning me into an enzo girlie 🤭🤭 this if for week three of @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge!!
pairing: enzo berkshire x fem!slytherin reader, platonic mattheo riddle x reader
prompt: wizards chess/"you filthy cheater, we go again!"
warning(s): none its all fluff!!!
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The weekend's rainy weather brought with it a sense of serenity and peace as it swept across the Scottish highlands like a flurrying storm. The castle grounds were barren of people, everyone making the unanimous decision to avoid the heavy downpour that had steadily been building in a crescendo all week. The corridors were even emptier, avoided by those who wanted to escape the cold, only the odd person running late to a detention, or for a quick stop in the kitchens, could be seen or heard amongst the chattering painting and silently gliding ghosts.
The common rooms however, were teeming with students, from all year groups. In the Slytherin common room, you and your friends had been some of the lucky few to snag a small grouping of pleated seats, right beside a roaring fire. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that one of said friends was the feared Dark Lord's son, but either way, you were grateful that you could relax by the fire for a few hours, soaking up what little warmth the dungeons could provide in such miserable weather conditions.
Except that you feel anything but relaxed right now. You had somehow found yourself sitting across the small coffee table from Enzo, a fierce game of wizards chess playing out between the two of you. It was common knowledge, between you and your friends, that you absolutely sucked at it, but that didn't stop you from trying, and failing, to beat Enzo at his own favoured game.
You jumped back on your haunches as his bishop savagely destroyed one of your lone pawns and gaped as he jumped up and cheered at his small victory, ignoring the way students around him violently shushed him with scowling faces. Your friends, who only paid sporadic attention to the pair of you, smirked as Enzo sneakily glanced your way, to watch how your face would scrunch in barely restrained irritation.
"And he strikes again!" He says with a cheer, that has Draco glaring at him from over his Potions homework with narrowed eyes. Enzo vehemently ignores him in favour of watching the way your face shifts between a million and one emotions in a split second. "I'm like two moves away from checkmate, sweetheart. Are you sure you can handle losing, again?"
The way he's smirking at you, with mirth painting his face, those brilliantly vibrant eyes of his shining as he stares across the table at you, has a blush fighting it's way up your neck. You scowl at him, menacingly.
"No one likes a show off, Berkshire." You snap, as you move your last remaining rook to take his knight. When Mattheo and Theo snicker from behind you, you turn and rapidly send a glare worthy of one of their own that has them covering their faces to try and hide their laughter from you. Even Draco, who'd been more withdrawn lately, had let out a quiet chuckle.
Sorry love. Mattheo says to you wordlessly and you narrow your glare, solely, on him. But you're not doing a very good job at this.
"Well there's no need to laugh at my misfortune, Matt." You reply and he smirks as he watches the way Enzo looks questioningly between you and him, before he moves another one of his pieces, putting you in checkmate.
You turn towards the table again as you hear the sound of shattering porcelain, watching as your rook is destroyed by his queen, which is now somehow in line with your king piece. You search the board for somewhere you can go, and come up agonisingly empty. You gape at the smug boy across from you.
"You filthy cheater!" You accuse and Enzo sends you a smirk that could bring you to your knees at anytime of the day.
"I did no such thing, sweetheart." He says, but the mischief shining in his russett eyes makes you believe otherwise. "Maybe you should pay attention next time."
His words ignite a challenge within you and you steel yourself as the pair of you become locked into a heated staring contest. In your peripheral, you watch as your friends whisper conspicuously between each other, but you pay them no mind.
Huffing you use your wand to fix and rearrange the pieces to their original positions.
"We go again!" You say resolutely, kneeling closer to the table, as if it would somehow make your wizards chess abilities rise to the surface. But you knew that it was wishful thinking.
Ready to lose again, sweetheart? Enzo speaks to you wordlessly, and your glare intensifies at the way his voice lowers a decibel or two, making it a low rasp in your head. I promise I'll go easy on you. He's smirking to himself as he moves the first piece.
And the cycle continues for another hour, until Blaise lets out an aggrieved sigh and takes your place. You sit beside Pansy huffing as you cross your arms over your chest, casting a look of contempt at Enzo, who does a terrible job of hiding his smug face. After half an hour, their game is a close one, and Blaise only just beats Enzo with a move of pure luck.
The latter comes to sit beside you after that, the game becoming abandoned on the table, an arm reaching across the back of the sofa, hand tracing featherlight patterns against your jumper covered shoulder. He's staring at the side of your face, tracing the way your hair falls in rippling waves as you tilt your head in favour of engrossing yourself in a book instead of focusing on him.
"Still bitter that I won, sweetheart?" He murmurs, leaning in close so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.
The twitch of your lip is the only thing that gives away that you hear him, but you choose to ingore him in favour of finishing the chapter, or at least you try to.
Since Enzo had sat down, you'd read the same sentence at least five times now. He pokes your shoulder with the hand that had been previously caressing it and you turn to him, breath hitching imperceptibly when you realise just how close he is to you.
"I'm only bitter because you cheated. I could've won fair and square." You say, your lips falling into a pout that Enzo desperately wants to kiss away.
"I'm no cheater." He says with enough self assurance that you might be inclined to believe him. "You were the one who turned away from the game."
"Only because Matt distracted me!" You retort, your face moving closer to his on your own accord.
"Perhaps I should put you out of your misery and teach you how to play." He whispers. The tension building between the two of you could be severed by a knife with how palpable the charged atmosphere is.
Said knife appears in the form of Theodore's hushed voice, which sounds fed up as much as it is amused.
"For Salazar's sake, please put us all out of the fucking misery of witnessing this and kiss." It was meant to be a muttered statement between himself and your other friends, but it reaches you nonetheless, causing you to recoil from the close proximity to Enzo, covering your reddening cheeks with your hands.
Enzo doesn't bother to remove his arm from where it practically cradles you into him as he scowls at his best friend. But when you don't move away from his touch, he thanks any god he can think of that you don't shy away from him.
The rest of the afternoon is spent in content silence as you and your friends bask in the murky green glow of the lake, warmed only by the heat of the fire. But you feel heated for a whole other reason, because Enzo's arm is yet to be unwound from your shoulder as you busy yourself with burrowing into his body heat, the position cosy enough for you to settle into finishing your book, and eventually even lulling you to sleep.
Enzo stares down at you with a smile as your book falls limply into his lap. He gingerly picks it up and slides the bookmark, that you'd left on the coffee table, into place before gently putting it on the floor beside your bag. He brings your body closer to his and marvels at the way you instinctively nuzzle your face into his chest, relaxed by the steady beat of his pounding heart.
He places a barely there kiss to the crown of you head and he swears he sees the ghost of a smile gracing your pretty lips.
One day. He'd confess to you one day.
And by the twin looks that he spies on Matt and Theo's faces, that day may come sooner than either of you may think.
~∞~
A little bonus scene:
"I don't understand how the two of them are so oblivious." Pansy says quietly as she watches the way you berate Enzo with no mutinous ammunition behind your words. "They're so obviously in love with eachother."
"Well they are idiots, bella." Theo says with a laugh. "It'll take it being spelled out for them to realise it."
"We cannot meddle with their love lives." Blaise counters, although his glimmering eyes give away that he wants to do exactly that. Draco looks like he agrees.
"Oh come on, B!" Mattheo retorts, a devilish look overtaking his features. "Where's the fun in that?"
"I'll bet twenty galleons that you can't get them to admit it by the end of the month." Pansy offers with a feline smirk and Mattheo's eyes light up in challenge.
"You have yourself a bet, love. Prepared to lose?" He smirks at his friend who only winks back at him before she settles into Theo's side.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." She says and they all turn to watch the way Enzo blatently stares at you, eternal love shining in his russett eyes. "Enzo's looks like he's about to burst with it."
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cyberkitty1 · 10 months
Note
I love your writing! Would you be able to write some fluffy headcanons about earth 42 miles meeting a quiet but not shy reader, and how they would be friends, and how they eventually start dating? Thank you - have a great day!!
Thank you so much i appreciate it <3
part 2
How do you guys meet?
You had a project together and everyone told you you’ll just have to do it by yourself because he does not care about school or grades.
Taken by surprise he actually reached out to you first catching you right when you were going to walk home.
He asked for your number and when you wanted to start.
“ Hey we gotta project in science together, when do you wanna start”
“ whenever you’d like” you say under your breath.
“hmm well wanna start like today I wanna get this done.”
“ yea sure, who’s house?“
“ I brought it up so mine”
And with that you followed him home.
When he opened the front door you where hit with and extremely delicious smell of authentic Puerto Rican food. Never in your life had you smelled something so good! Someone you assumed to be his mother spoke.
"Hola mi pequeño, cómo estuvo la escuela! ¡Oh, tienes una amiga! No me dijiste que alguien vendría, hubiera hecho más comida"
(Hello my little one, how was school! Oh, you have a friend! You didn't tell me someone was coming, I would have made more food)
“si, tenemos un proyecto escolar” he says motioning to you. She gives you the warmest smile “ well food will be done soon you can stay if you would like!” you ponder for a split second “ Yes I would love to Mrs. Morales”. “ Ok we gonna go work then”
You guys worked on the project pretty hard. Most of the time you could feel his eyes lingering on you. Buy nonetheless you guys were almost done! You decided to pause there because it was getting late. You completely forgot to tell your parents where you were; they decided to blow up your phone.
“ Hey um I cant stay for dinner Mrs. Morales Im sorry my parents need me home” “ Its ok mija! let me give you some to take home. “After giving you some food you turn to Miles. “ Thanks for having me over, we can finish on Friday if youd like?”
You said it quietly but your voice was invading his brain. “ Yea thats alright give me your number so we can talk later.” He says giving you his phone. “Yea sure”. You pass his phone back to him. “Good night Miles” you gave him the softest prettiest smile he’s ever seen.
He felt his ears heat up “good night”. He shuts the door then leans on the back sighing.
Rio looks over at him with a big smile on her face “Mi bebe esta enamorado ”
(my baby is in love)
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You have been fed for the week!! Ill try and get another done Friday but noooo promises.
Lmk if you want a part 2!
edit: part 2 will be pushed back, i don’t want it to be sloppy or badly written. I want to write to the best of my ability so please be patient!
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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#23 with male reader and soap. After a mission m!reader helps him clean himself in the shower maybe because soap got injured on the field or just really sore. And he washes off the blood/dust/dirt and helps dry him off and it turns into something kinda fluffy. I just wanna play with this man's stupid mohawk so bad.
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Honestly me too, I just see that strip of hair and get the urge to tug on it, completely forgetting the man's fictional 😅 Ended up writing washing his hair and showering together because hyperfixation lol Play the game HERE.
Prompt: Washing their hair
CW: NSFW but no sex, non sexual nudity, M reader, showering together, hair washing, just fluffy fluffy fluff.
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As much as you care about Soap, you've got to admit he's a bit of a dumbass, a reckless dumbass to boot. You tell him to be careful and what does he do? End up falling out of a second story window and rolling down a good 60 feet down a muddy hill while chasing after a target. You hear him swear the entire way down from where you're tucked away safely behind the sight of your sniper rifle.
By the time you get back to base Johnny feels as miserable as he looks, covered in so much mud you can't see his skin and his entire back wreathed in dull throbbing pain, not to mention the numerous cuts and scraps. And that's on top of Price chewing him out about safety and Ghost and Gaz teasing him the entire flight back to base.
"Not a word lad," He growls, giving you the stink eye. "Price already yapped me ear off." Soap turns to his heel in an attempt to head to the communal showers, biting his lip to stop himself from swearing out god, king, and country when his muscles scream at him.
"Wasn't going to." You stop him, one firm hand tugging on his bulletproof vest so you don't jostle him too much, though even that has drops of mud splashing on your clothes. "Come on, you can shower in my room."
He looks at you skeptically, but it doesn't take much to sway his mind when you offer him simple comforts; privacy, warm hands to wash away the days pains, a warmer body to remind him he's alive. He follows you without a word, neither one of you caring about the mud you track— tomorrow's problems.
"Foooock." The groan comes deep from his bones, perfectly encapsulating all he feels as you methodically unclip his gear, taking the world's weight off his shoulders and dropping it haphazardly on the bathroom's tiled floor. "Feel like a fockin' hog," He frowns.
"Look like you rolled in a pig sty." You helpfully supplement, receiving a few words in Gaelic which you don't even attempt to understand, though the humor in his tone is crystal clear even when you take hold of the bottom of his shirt; the mud and grime had gone through every layer of clothing, leaving not a single inch of skin clean.
He attempts to raise his arms to help you, only to suddenly yell out a "Oh ye fockin' cunt!" when pain flares from his shoulder down the entire length of his spine. You swear you hear his spine crack at least a dozen times by the time you pull his shirt off his mud wet skin.
"You sound like an old geezer." You chuckle to lighten the mood, dropping to your knees to untie his shoelaces and take off his boots, then the rest of his clothes.
"Says the bloke who's left knee tells the weather." He bites back, a bit of teeth on display as he grimaces, another few curses leaving his lips when he has to lower his arm. "Or tries to, yer got as much accuracy as the bloody reporters on the telly."
"Starting to complain like one too," You add, not at all surprised when Soap proceeds to brush his muddy hand across your face. "Of you fucker," Your words gain a childish little giggle from him, and he lets you guide him into the shower.
Your bathroom's one of the few that has a tub in it —a relic of past tenants before the army remodeled the base into an actual military installation— you had to bribe Price with a lot of high quality cigars to get it, but every penny was worth it. There's a tap as well as a detachable showerhead up top that Johnny eagerly uses, turning the water hot and just standing under the stream while you disrobe.
The clean water turns muddy the second it hits his skin, brown muck swirling around your feet as you step into the tub behind him. "How's that sweetheart?" You ask, taking the soap bottle and squirting a heavy amount onto your hands, not bothering with a sponge and instead using your fingers to wash away the dirt on his skin.
"Heaven." Johnny sighs, his muscles fluttering beneath your hands, mud and blood washing away to reveal deep blooming bruises across his back. "Shite, that hits the spot." He leans against you, the slow but firm pressure of your fingers massaging the sore muscles around the blotchy bruises making him groan. You lean in to place gentle kisses on the darkest bruises, "So good fer me bonnie," he hums, using his arms the best he can to at least wash the mud off his face.
You two float in a sort of mindless space where nothing outside the shower matters, the sound of water running and Soap's occasional groan filling your ears, all your focus on the way your hands rub him down; from shoulders to his back, down to his feet and then back up to his face when he turns around.
Once the water runs clear again you turn off the shower and start the tap so the tub fills with enough water to keep him warm, maneuvering him to sit in the tub while you step out to dry yourself off and put on boxers.
"Don't need ta be pampered like a show mutt," He grumbles, the hot water easing the soreness in his frame and making his exhaustion prominent, Johnny's eyelids starting to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake.
"I know, but you hair's a damn crow's nest." You snort, running your fingers through the mess on his head and showing the gunk stuck on your fingers, hell, you even pull a damn twig out.
His eyes widen, "Well fock me," Soap grimaces, gives a bone deep sigh as you settle behind him, sitting partially on the tub. Cupping water in your palms you rub your fingers down the length of his mohawk, loosening the dirt sticking to the strands until rivulets of watery mud run down his neck.
"Maybe later." You both chuckle, squirting the shampoo Soap always loves to smell on you in your hand and lathering your palms up before bringing them back to his hair. Soap mumbles something, leaning his head into your hands whenever you scratch a particularly itchy spot on his scalp.
His head tips back as much as his aching shoulders let him, his eyes settling on your face. I got it made, he thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep his eyelids open so he can see how you focus on even a simple task like washing his hair. Every brush of your fingers across his dirty strands fills his chest with lingering warmth, every scratch of your nails across his scalp making his eyes droop just a bit more.
Johnny doesn't even notice the slight sting when you occasionally tug on a knot, your touch making his mind buzz pleasantly like the low background static of a TV on late nights, and Soap doesn't realize he's dosing off.
You notice how he leans against your leg, leaning over to see his eyes closed and chest steadily rising and falling. You let him sleep for a bit while you finish up cleaning his hair and then use the detachable shower head to wash the bubbly shampoo off.
"What is'it?" He mumbles when you gently shake him awake, eyelids fluttering open and shut.
"Need you to get up Johnny." You hum and it's laughable how easily he follows your instructions, needing a bit of help to stand up when his back still aches like hell, a shiver racing down his spine as the cold air of your bathroom nips at his skin. "Fock, do'ah look like a snowman?" He grumbles at the cold.
You chuckle instead of saying anything, silencing any other complaints with sweet kisses on his lips as you towel him dry.
Soon after you two are huddled under the covers, his body draped over yours and using your chest as a pillow. Your fingers card through his slightly damp hair, the soft brown strands like feathers against your skin and your touch making him sigh and melt against you.
"Hey lad?" He suddenly says, voice a gentle whisper; like he's about to reveal a secret kept from the world — something only meant for you.
"Yeah Johnny?" You ask, a few stars reflecting in his blue eyes from your window.
Your heart melts at the soft and goody smile he gives you, "Love you." he says, leaning his head into your hand that's in his hair.
You smile and lean your head to kiss him, "Love you too," You mutter against his lips, and when you pull away he's already drifted off to sleep like a babe, soft breath tickling your skin and arms possessively wrapped around your waist like you'll disappear.
But you catch the way he smiles in his sleep.
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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months
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✨Comfort in His Arms✨
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A/N: This is really just a little Drabble about being comforted in Joel’s arms and being deeply loved by him. It’s so soft, and I really needed this lately, and I hope it will bring comfort to all my lovely friends on here 🥹
Summary: A little Drabble about enjoying the sunrise while you’re being comforted and held by Joel. Soft, gentle, warm. He’s your forever.
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Word Count: 767
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Your eyes peel open, marble sun bursts fading through the sheer curtains. Shades of gold and orange painting the tan walls as wafts of fresh brewed coffee and clean soap surround you. You rock gently in the wooden rocking chair, the one you always found so comforting in this house. Except you’re not alone, not even in your own house. No. You’re with Joel. In his arms, in his house, in his chair. Your favorite place is all three of those wrapped up into one. Anything that’s his is.
Still. It’s so still outside, quiet as you slowly rock back and forth in the wooden rocking chair. His chair. Art he made with his own strong hands. He was always so crafty, so talented, so good at everything he made. But that wasn’t all he was good at. He was also good at comforting you, enveloping you in his entire broad being as he made every day a comfort day for you.
It’s like you’re in your own little bubble. The outside world completely nonexistent when you’re in his house, in his arms, in his lap, in his chair. It’s your own little heaven, a forever paradise where you want to continue to stay for the rest of your days.
Warm. He’s so warm, as warm as the sun’s blazing rays. Fiery, intense, blinding, just like his passion for you is.
Safe. Dispelling all forms of worry, stress, or fears. He’s a safe haven, a towering fortress that blankets you in his strong arms. Safe. That’s where you feel it most. In his arms.
Soft. He’s so soft as his calloused fingers trail down your sun kissed arms, his fingers running slowly through your thick hair like silk on the tip of your skin.
Gentle. The way he kisses you gently on the forehead, trailing his salt and pepper scruff carefully over your jawline as you breathe him in. Coffee and mahogany dancing over your senses as you breathe him deep. And then it’s only him in your system, always just him. Dwindling down to connect with every fiber of your being, tugging on your heart strings as it beats only for him.
It’s only him. It’s always just been him. Joel, Joel, Joel. Your infinite sunlight that continues to surround you and bathe you in glistening warmth. And all you see is him, those deep brown eyes that sink through you like raindrops pounding on the lake, pulling you under as you drown in him again and again and again. Infinite. He is infinite, forever.
You slowly rock in the chair, your body wrapped around his as he holds you close in his lap, his calloused fingers running slowly through your hair, down your arms, trailing over your silky lips. He’s everywhere, a complete blanket of warmth, your comfort, exactly what you need now.
“There’s my girl,” he whispers as he kisses the top of your head and pulls you tighter against his broad chest. “Such a sweet girl, darlin’. You’re so beautiful,” he slurs, sleep coating over his deep drawl as you breathe him in deep and slow.
You hug your arms around him, hooking your fingers into his soft blue flannel as his large hand rubs slow circles down your back. “Ain’t nobody gonna harm you, angel. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby girl.”
His words carry around the room, a promise he’ll never let anything hurt you again. This is the place you can release all your worries, your stress, your problems. It’s in this room, in his chair, in his lap, in Joel’s home. And you’re finally safe. Finally able to breathe as long as you're in his arms. This is where you belong. With him.
He sinks his lips against yours. Soft, plush lips that coat you in love. You fall into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers tangle through his tousled curls. He cups the back of your head, lips parting so he can slot his tongue between your teeth, dancing his tongue against yours as they seem to meld and form into one. And then it’s fire. Simmering, hot warmth that burns through your soul, leaving you completely breathless in the moment. It’s love, it’s always been love. And you stay like that for the entire morning as the sun slowly rises in the violet sky.
Joel is your home, your peace, your happiness, everything you have to live for. It’s Joel. And you finally feel that you’re home because you are.
Joel is home. Your safe, happily ever after. Joel.
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Text
“I’m going to marry you someday, Regulus Black.”
Regulus tilts his head upwards, his curls messily spilling over his forehead as he gazes fondly at James through his eyelashes. “Is that right?”
“Mhmm.” James hums, pulling Regulus closer onto his chest. “I have our whole future planned out, love. We’ll have our own quaint little house-“
“I do like little houses.”
“…but we’ll have a big backyard.” James continues, waving his arm animatedly in the air as if he’s picturing the scene vividly in front of them. “And we’ll make it a quidditch pitch, big enough to raise our own family of quidditch players.” He nods to himself before glancing down at Regulus. “Does that sound good to you?”
“Yeah, James.” Regulus whispers against James’ chest, smiling giddly and not even bothering to hide it. “That sounds good to me.”
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ant1quarian · 2 months
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what are your avian boys’ favorite places to be kissed?? i love them so much omfg
Axes’ favourite place to be kissed is probably on his forehead. Every single time you give him a forehead kiss he gets that awed expression and it never fails to coax a content purr from him. It’s likely because the big ol’ crater in his head is scary and you kissing his forehead reminds him that you’re not scared of him.
Dusts’ favourite place to be kissed is definitely on his hands. He’ll blush if you kiss him in the other places, but if you kiss his hands he’ll practically just melt into a fluffy puddle. Usually, his wings will fluff up and he’ll have to choke down a purr. Hand kisses usually get you a smooch in return.
Red loves smooches on his scapula feathers (shoulder feathers). He takes a lot of pride in his wings, and they are very pretty, but they’re also probably the strongest part of him. He sustained a pretty bad injury to them from a while back, so specific parts of his wings are pretty sensitive to intent. Kisses to his scapula feathers are probably like the only way to make him super flustered easily.
Killer is heavily flustered by any kisses to his wings. It’s super intimate to him and will leave him with fluffed feathers– and leave you in his grip for an undetermined amount of time. Giving him wing kisses are a sacrifice– your freedom, for a flustered Killer.
Cross is flustered by literally any kiss. He simply becomes super flustered, but particularly enjoys smooches to the bottom of his jaw. It’ll earn you a quiet purr of happiness and a blush. He will also return the favour.
Milord will simply die if you kiss the scars over his socket. It flusters the ever-flying-SOUL out of him. He’ll definitely find a way to repay you for your kindness, and it’s common for him to be quite clingy for a couple hours afterwards.
Blue likes to be smooched on his cheek. It earns you a quiet “mweh-heh!”, a blush, and a smooch in return. It takes quite a lot of affection-showering before he completely melts with super fluffy wings and an expression of adoration.
Sans practically flat lines if you give him a proper kiss on his teeth. It’ll take a solid minute before he’ll react– scooping you up and snuggling into you, usually playfully peppering your face with kisses, purring all the while. Bonus points if you kiss him under the stars.
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politemenacephd · 4 months
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Arachnophilia: (Part Nine)
Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)
Chapter Masterlist 🕷️
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You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Now you're his mate, trapped in a dizzying heat that only he can fix, trying to hide your relationship from your suspicious superiors. What could go wrong? Word count: 3080 Notes: some fluffy time now hehe
You woke the next morning to the sound of rain, unaware of what had transpired while you slept.
The tail end of a storm had blown in over night before dying out by dawn, leaving the forest in a deep and melancholic mist as droplets continued to patter against the leaves. The smell of wet pine drifted in and tickled your nose.
You could tell it was cold outside, based on the chill against your bare face, but your body was so incredibly warm. Something heavy was keeping you in place, keeping you grounded while protecting you from the elements outside.
Slowly you opened your eyes.
‘Mm... Mig?’
‘Mhm?’
You rolled your head back and blinked the sleep aside.
Mig had clambered on top of you, like a bird sitting on its eggs, and you were fully compressed beneath the warm fluff of his abdomen. No wonder you were so warm.
‘Mig?’
You repeated his name in the same sleepy tone, but he seemed too pre-occupied to notice. His human torso was upright, arms folded, facing the door with unblinking eyes. You wondered how long he’d been up like that.
‘What’r you doin’?’ you asked.
Your question finally drew his attention back to you as he glanced down with raised brows.
‘Hm? What do you mean, arañita?’
‘You’re- on me.’
‘Yes. I am’ he affirmed, blunt as ever. ‘You were shivering, in your sleep. At least- I think you were. I wanted to be sure you were okay. Do you… want me to move?’
‘Uh- no, no you’re fine. It’s very warm.’
He gave a curt nod and returned to watching the door as rain trickled from its edges, just barely illuminated by the misty light beyond.
‘Good. I’m glad you’re comfortable.’  
For a while you lazily indulged in his warmth. You had no idea before this that spiders were so soft. You lounged against the feathery mattress in a timeless void, lost to the outside world, safe in this little bubble you’d created with him.
But as your body slowly woke up, it was inevitable that you started thinking again. You opened your eyes and watched the rain as it dripped like pearls from the top of the entrance.
It’d been a while since you were just alone with Mig like this, at least since the first time you’d had sex. The heat suppressed any chance you had of making normal conversation, and the last time you’d just spoken was when you’d gone to leave. You were used to these moments of quiet contemplation when you were friends, but, now?
You were curious, more than anything. Would you talk the same? Would it be easier, harder? You decided you ought to just find out.
‘Did you sleep okay?’ you asked, finally broaching conversation. Mig seemed slightly surprised when you spoke, as you felt his abdomen jolt before settling again.
‘Ah- yes. I did. Did, you?’
‘Mhm. Sorry I just- fell asleep right after you finished, I was just so tired.’
‘There’s no need to apologize, arañita. I’m sorry I ravaged you like that.’
‘Oh, I mean… that wasn’t a problem for me.’
He snorted; you couldn’t tell if that was meant to be a laugh or not. ‘Did you manage to organise your affairs while away?’ he asked, shifting the conversation. You nodded.
‘Mhm! Mhm, everything should be fine. I saw Jess, I told her I was sick, quote unquote, and would let her know when I was better, so, that’ll buy us some time, at least until the heats over. Obviously Miguel was, weird about it, but… I mean he didn’t say anything so I’m sure it’s still fine. It’s fine.’
Mig’s lips tilted downward with his brows, forming a crease in his forehead.
He didn’t want to leave you in the dark about last night, and yet when he thought about telling you fully what had occurred, he choked. Lying did not come naturally to him. He knew if he decided to explain part of last night, he would explain it all, including Miguel’s veiled reminders and accusations.
He knew what Miguel knew. He knew, but he couldn’t even acknowledge it with himself, let alone with you. He decided to pick his words carefully.
‘Yes. He- is likely to remain troublesome, but I promise I won’t let him bother you.’
‘I wasn’t gonna let him bother me’ you huffed. ‘You know, hey- I meant to tell you yesterday, they mentioned him when I was in the medical bay. Or at least the nurse did, she really shouldn’t have, but- they thought I’d slept with him, because the signs on my body from you were the same as some other guy they’d had in before. I didn’t want to believe you, but- I mean it’s pretty clear you were right, about his- needs.’
Mig froze as you continued rambling on about what the nurse had said. He always strove to be a good listener when you spoke, but right now all he could hear was the ringing in his ears.
That hypocritical, lying snake, he thought. That self-righteous coward. He was forced to cough to cover his involuntary hiss of rage.
Of course, every variant but him had to be locked away for their own safety. Of course, every variant but him had to maintain abstinence to avoid spreading their malformation. Everyone but him. They were all filthy, misbegotten monsters, not fit to love, but him? Well, he could have his dalliances.
Mig snorted hard to dispel his anger, wanting to avoid showing such a thing to you again.
He knew that Miguel’s threat last night had been genuine. He had no idea what he’d do to get his way, whether today or tomorrow or in a weeks’ time. All he knew is that he would defend you when the time came, and for now, he just wanted to enjoy your company.
He wanted to enjoy being wanted for just a little while longer. If the noble, venerable Miguel could do it, why couldn’t he? In the midst of his bitterness, Mig decided to turn it around. He decided to make you an offer.
‘Yes, I would- ideally like to keep you away from him. So you don’t have to worry about being, ah- bothered’ Mig said at last.
You shot him a quick and grateful smile. ‘I mean, I’d appreciate that, but I’m happy to be here regardless. I’m not just here to hide.’
Miguel grunted his approval as birdsong began to radiate in from outside. He breathed in deep, his chest heaving, as he worked up the courage to speak his mind.
‘I was thinking, arañita. I could, maybe, make the nest more… habitable. For you.’
You blinked. ‘I- wait, are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘But- won’t I only be here full time until the heat stops? I’m assuming after that—’
Midway through speaking you noticed his eyes widening. He was sinking back into that same sadness he’d expressed when you first left, that deep rooted fear of abandonment. You quickly shook your head, pre-empting his distress.
‘Not- I mean that when the heat’s over, I won’t be here full time, not that I won’t see you anymore’ you clarified. His face settled, slowly drifting back to neutrality, but you could see the little hints of concern in his eyes. He was scanning your face all over again, as if searching for your soul.
‘I’ll have to do some spider society duties, but I still want to come see you’ you explained in a clearer tone. ‘I still want to hang out, maybe- stay over, if- only if that’s okay, I also don’t want to take up all your time—’
‘I have nothing but wasted time when you’re not here, mi tesoro. You would not be taking up anything’ Mig softly interrupted.
‘What- wait, what? What do you mean?’
He gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes now fixed on the distant wall. He seemed to be looking at nothing. ‘I mean exactly that. What did I do before? I survived. That’s all. I am, separated from other people, I have little technology to connect to the outside world. I hunt, I eat, maybe I watch the stars. I live to see another day, but- since I changed, that’s all. You are the only, thing I’ve had, that was more than surviving. Comfort, companionship, joy, and… pleasure.’
You felt a stab of guilt when faced with that morbid picture. The idea of Mig sitting in the woods, pondering his existence, eating and sleeping just to get through each day. You hadn’t even comprehended before just what his life must have been like, with no one to talk to and no one to comfort him.
‘I apologize’ he murmured, a sad little smile breaking the calm of his expression, ‘I didn’t want to put pressure on you, but, that meant never explaining fully how grateful I am that you appeared in my little universe. I’ve been so- jealous, and scared, of losing that little comfort, but I should be glad I had you at all.’
Your mind drifted to your own loneliness back at the HQ. What was worse, you wondered, being deprived of people entirely or being surrounded by people who don’t see you? At least you’d had something. At least you’d been negligible, rather than abominable.
In that moment, all pretence about his monsterhood died. You were both monsters in that moment, and you were both people too. You were people only to each other.
‘Oh Mig. You... Look, I—I will always come back to you. I’ll do my stupid duties and then I’ll come back, and I’ll keep bringing you stuff like I used to! But even then, I just… I don’t want to make you change things to fit me in. This is your home. I don’t want to be a brat, I can get by just fine. I’ve done fine so far.’
Miguel began shaking his head before you’d even finished speaking. ‘No. You complained about the state of my home after just a day or so here, remember? You said you needed more. I will supply more.’
Immediately you balked. When faced with how you’d acted towards him, when worded so bluntly, it was certainly humbling. ‘God- I’m, so sorry about that, I was just—I was tired and—’
‘Don’t apologize. You were right. This place is fit for me, but, not for a person like you. So, I will fix it.’
You shuffled awkwardly as you tried to think. ‘Well then… Well, look, then let me work out what I need. I can bring it here myself.’
Again, Mig shook his head. ‘You’re my mate. It’s my job to provide for you.’
‘No! No, don’t be silly, I don’t need—’
You froze as Mig’s claws came down on your lips, gently smooshing them shut. His eyes on you were kind. ‘I want to help’ he murmured. ‘This is what I want, mi tesoro.’
You squirmed a little as you pushed his claws aside. ‘But- but I can at least help too, right?’ you asked.
Mig reached out to touch your cheek, his eyes flitting across your face. He seemed confused. ‘You don’t need to help, arañita. This is for me. Just- relax, let me do what you need.’
‘You— mmm.’ You bit your tongue on what you wanted desperately to blurt out: that he was so nice, too nice, in a way you weren’t used to. That you felt guilty for making him work for your sake when you’d already been rude, or at least you felt like you’d been rude, to this poor creature who had suffered enough.
In your ensuing silence Miguel seemed to finally sense that something was off. He was too inexperienced to know what, but he could just tell you were hiding your thoughts. He knew something about receiving his help made you uncomfortable, for whatever reason, and he knew that that would not do. He desperately wanted to be of use.
With a soft sigh he shifted his weight, using his forelegs to grip your body and pull it up towards him. He nestled his legs in, fully folding them beneath his body, and he held you bridal style against his bare chest.
‘Do you know how spider mating works, usually? It’s- quite interesting’ he said.
You listened, curious as to where this was going, as Miguel gazed off into the distance and recited his little facts.
‘The females are almost always twice the size as the males, and twice as deadly. They demand that males shower them in affection to prove their worth. They expect dances, songs played on silk strings, back rubs and oral sex and copulation which takes as little time as possible. They expect males to fight to the death for their hand. They expect- gifts. And, if they do not receive what they want, they will eat the male for their own purposes. In fact, even if they do receive what they want, sometimes they will just eat him regardless.’
You blanched at the morbid nature of his story, a stark contrast to his soft little smile.
‘I’d say, by spider standards, you ask for too little’ he whispered.
With your lopsided smile, you tried to awkwardly shift back into teasing him. ‘Ah- what, are you saying I can eat you?’
‘If you wanted to.’
‘I- Mig, no! No, I’m kidding! Don’t say that!’
‘Why not?’
You gently slapped your hands against his chest, as if patting him would bring him back to reality. ‘No! No, don’t- say you’d be okay with being eaten!’
‘I would be, though, if it was you.’
‘NO! I won’t eat you!’
‘Well then there is no issue.’
You huffed at his response, but ultimately your reign of playful patting ended. You wriggled for him to put you down and immediately snuggled back against the warmth of his fluff, where his soft little forearms came around to embrace you.
‘I just realized, is that why you like how small I am?’ you asked. ‘Because your brain is like, the smaller they are the less likely they are to eat me?’
Miguel gave you a ghost of a smile. He looked almost shy beneath that stoic, stony expression. ‘A little bit, yes.’
‘But you’d still let me eat you?’
‘I still instinctively pleasure you with my mouth because it’s a survival tactic. I’m trying to keep you calm. So- I would not likely let you, I still have an ingrained need to survive, but I would not begrudge you my body.’
You recoiled a little in surprise. ‘You- wait, the mouth stuff is an instinctual thing?’
‘Y…Yes, I’m afraid so.’
Without thinking you dramatically sighed, your eyes turning to the side. ‘Wh- Aw! I thought that was just- you know, you being romantic’ you bemoaned.
‘It can be both.’
You tilted your head back and caught his eye, his glinting red light gently reflecting on your cheek. His eyes creased with affection as he scanned your face.
‘I mean- it is both.’
You shook your head, exasperated, before lowering your gaze. ‘My god, maybe I will eat you.’
A strange, new sound filled the air, almost like choking. You glanced up in a mild panic only to realize it was Miguel. He appeared to be chuckling. It was a low, guttural noise, deep and rugged, like someone trying to cough while laughing. It seemed to come unnaturally to him.
‘Ahum- sorry, that- I haven’t done that in a long time’ he grunted when the sounds came to an end.
Your own smile widened. God, he was so cute. ‘Hey, it’s fine! I like it. I like… when you’re, happy.’
Almost immediately after saying it you cringed internally, your hands flying to your face. ‘Oh my god- I’m sorry, that’s such a stupid statement. Nebulous statement. Who doesn’t like people being happy, right? Oh my god…’
For the second time Miguel had to bite back his strange and gruff laugh. He didn’t want to seem mocking, but lord, your embarrassment was so endearing. He bit his tongue to hide his joy and instead bent down to your height.
‘I like when you’re happy’ Mig said, gently repeating it back. When you peered at him through your fingers he managed another small smile. ‘Which is why, I would like to adjust this nest, for you. Please.’
You heaved a sigh. You couldn’t say no to that face.
‘Okay’ you said at last, waving your hands as if dismissing yourself of the issue. ‘Okay! Okay. But I will help a little.’
‘Very well. But I will determine what counts as little.’
‘Of course you will’ you scoffed affectionately.
As silence fell you noticed that the rain outside had started to pick up once more. The mist had turned everything beyond the border of the nest into a milky white void, and you could now hear the soft patter of the drops on the nests roof.
You breathed in the peace and allowed it to embolden you once more. In the isolation of the woods, flushed from head to toe in this honeymoon glow, you wanted just one more thing.
‘We um… there’s one more thing, I wanted to clarify’ you said, your head now nestled into the fur just below his pelvis. He didn’t glance down but he did grunt to signal that he’d heard you.
‘We- well. We established, by technicality, we’re a… mated pair.’
‘Yes.’
‘And we are… friends.’
You felt his fur bristling against your neck. ‘Yes. Also true’ he grunted.
‘We, um- we kinda rushed into, something, in a really weird way. Right? Not that it’s a bad thing, but- I said before I left, I don’t… know what this is yet.’
Mig bristled a little harder, his hair raising to the point that it tickled your cheek.
‘Yes… you, did say that.’
‘Well… When I went back to my home, and to the HQ, I was just so…So....’ You paused to swallow. ‘I missed you, Mig. I really, really missed you. Even for that short time, and- I realized, there is something very… special? About you, or- I’m, drawn to you, I guess. Even when I was in heat, and surrounded by hundreds of people, all I thought of was you.’
Miguel didn’t speak. He just tilted his head, urging you to continue. You swallowed for a second time only to find your throat was dry.
‘I’m, just- I was thinking, well- Could we, or- should we, maybe, just- clarify? Like, you know what I mean, right? Ah- we could just, define what is going on, and—’
Your stammering was brought to an abrupt halt when Miguel leaned down and pulled you close. His human torso bent and kept you close to his chest, his head in your neck, while his spider legs drew you in. You could feel his abdomen lightly vibrating against you as he let out a low hum.
‘Wh- ah, Mig? What—’
‘It’s a spider thing’ he whispered, his breath hot on your ear.
‘It- it is?’
You could feel his legs starting to shift, gently tapping and pulling at the nest floor. He was pinging the silk strings until they rang, filling the air with sweet little chiming sounds. It created a profound sense of comfort in you.
‘It means I like you, arañita’ he whispered, his voice barely a breath. ‘Here is my- confession, I suppose. I like you, arañita. I like you a lot.’
Your heart nearly tripled over in your chest. In a moment of impulse, you turned. You turned your body into his, searching for his face, and with both hands you grabbed his cheeks and pressed your lips to his.
It was a soft kiss. It wasn’t the manic, messy tongue play brought on by the heat, nor the explorative kissing Mig did to keep you distracted while mounting. It was barely a peck on his bottom lip, one you held onto for a second or so before letting him go.
When you pulled back your heart was beating like a bird in a cage. You found Mig completely frozen.
‘Are- is, is the heat coming back?’ he mumbled dizzily. You shook your head.
‘No. Not yet. No heat.’
He tried to sniff subtly but it was obvious what he was doing. When he realized you’d told the truth, he seemed to melt.
‘Then…. Wh—’
‘It’s just a human thing. It just means, I like you too.’
Mig’s eyes were so wide, so bright, almost dreamy in a way.
‘I don’t know if this will work out’ you said gently. ‘It’s- early, and this all happened very fast. And I know I can’t just, hide away here for forever. But, for now, while I have this time here with you, I want to try. I really, really want to try.’
Mig gave a slow nod in response.
‘I want to be, officially, uh… partners, I- I guess, would be the right term’ you said slowly.
Mig didn’t respond how you’d expect someone to respond when given such an offer. He didn’t smile, or laugh, or cheer or sigh. Instead, his wide eyes dilated until they looked like a cats, wide and full like a bloody moon, misty and soft. His body trembled a little.
‘Okay’ he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘Okay. Yes. I’d like that. I’d like- to agree to that, officially, mi tesoro.’
You beamed until your cheeks hurt, and when Mig moved in you let him kiss you back. You were expecting just another peck, but Mig had other ideas. He seemed insatiable, eagerly pressing kiss after kiss after kiss against your lips and cheeks and jaw. Soon he was bending you back into the mattress, your spine perfectly arched as the weight of his body crushed the air from your lungs.
His lips parted and his tongue began brushing yours. It was curious, wet, tender. It was like holding hands. His needy whimpers vibrating on your lips. When you did eventually part you were panting.
‘A-Are you rutting?’ you asked with a slight laugh, struggling to speak between kisses. Mig grunted.
‘No’ he mumbled before kissing you again, ‘no, no. No rut. Just… Just you. Just you.’
You melted into his arms as his body compressed you into the mattress, his lips refusing to leave yours. His abdomen did one more little wriggle of joy as his hands began drifting down your body.
You squeaked as he squished at your waist, your belly and your hips and thighs, tenderly imprinting his fingers into every part.
It seems it didn’t matter if he was rutting or not right now. He would have you regardless.
As he held you down Mig forgot all about the world outside. He forgot about Miguel. He forgot about the society. He forgot everything but the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin and the warmth of your touch. Here the world was kind for one sweet, simple moment.
‘Just you. Just… you.’ Link to next part!
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adrift-in-thyme · 5 days
Text
Here it is! The fairy Time fic I promised. Be warned, it is extremely fluffy
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It is a quiet night.
Time is always grateful for those. They are in short supply on this journey, too often interrupted by the rise of the cursed Blood Moon or an outburst of beasts from under the cover of foliage. But tonight, the moon is tranquil and golden and the surrounding bushes and trees conceal nothing except chattering critters.
The heroes have settled around the fire, and are trading lazy quips. The occasional tale sneaks in between them, which quickly becomes a competition to see who has endured the more exciting experience. 
Time doesn’t normally make a habit of joining in. He is content to remain just outside the conversation, close enough to comment if necessary, but far enough to merely listen. Such peace and joy are precious things – as precious as every moment spent by Malon’s side – and they surround him like a warm blanket.  
Tonight, however, that wonderful feeling is making it rather difficult to remain awake. 
It doesn’t help that the healing spells he had cast in the aftermath of today’s battle have left him feeling drained. With the traveler down and their potions used up, he had had little choice but to act. And he doesn’t regret it in the least. But that doesn’t negate the fact that healing magic has never been his strong suit.
Every fae possesses the power, yet not all have the strength to employ it in such a measure as he had today. Healing is a delicate act. It requires attentiveness and care, dedication and focus. He had poured all of that and more into his spells, used his heart and mind, his soul to heal his brothers’ wounds and save their lives. And in the moments afterward…had collapsed. 
He is fortunate his brothers had been there to catch him. Too many times before he learned his limit, this weakness had spelled his doom. He has scars on his wings to prove it.
Still, he is practically useless, even now after the impromptu nap. He feels dried up and hollowed out, limbs heavy with the same exhaustion that drags his eyelids downward. And though he would normally protest at least a little at the prospect of staying in his current position, he cannot dredge up the will to do so.
So, here he remains, curled up on his side on Wind’s lap, Warriors’ scarf a silken cocoon about his body, one giant wing draped over him like a comforter. 
He shifts with a small sigh. The sailor giggles, ever amazed at his fairy form, and reaches out to run a finger over Time’s wings. He is gentle, careful in every movement. Still, Time is a bit surprised at the lack of the fear that usually bubbles up whenever anyone touches him in this form.
He has had too many injuries, too many close calls with death or worse. They have made him wary. But he trusts the sailor. Wind is nothing if not kind. 
He is safe here. 
The knowledge hits him harder than any monster blow.
You are safe here.
Something breathtakingly warm wells up in him at that thought, similar to the feeling he has been basking in since he awakened, yet unique all the same.
“Alright, old man?” A soft voice asks, now, and Time pries open the eye he hadn’t even registered closing. Warriors grins down at him. 
Time’s soft hum quickly dissolves into a blissful sigh as the captain tucks him more securely into his bed of softness. He allows his eye to slide shut again, his body to relax more fully. He allows the sensations and sounds to envelop him, surround him in warmth and comfort. To pull him down into blessed darkness once more.
“He’s adorable like this,” Wind says, his noisy whisper breaking through the haze. Another giddy giggle bursts forth from him like gurgling water. 
“He is, isn’t he?” It’s Twilight now. Time can imagine the dirt-eating grin on his face, the same one that spreads across Malon’s when she beats him in yet another race around the pasture. “Though I doubt he wants us calling him that.”
There’s a pause, then in a disapproving whisper-yell, “and he definitely doesn’t want that. Put that slate of yours away, champion!”
There is the distinct sound of a camera snapping a photograph. Laughter ripples through the group like the wind through the trees. 
“When he kills you all, don’t come running to me,” Twilight says, though there’s laughter in his voice too.
Traitors, Time thinks, lazily, all of them.
“Oh, come on, Twi. Look at him! He wouldn’t hurt us! Not like this anyway.”
“Then, you haven’t gotten a good look at his wings,” Legend pipes up, drily. “They’ve got eyes on them, you know.”
“Ooh.” Time can feel Wind’s breath ghosting him as the boy leans down to get a closer look. “I wonder if they make up for the one he lost. I’ll bet he can see us through ‘em!”
If Time wasn’t quite so tired (or finding this quite so exasperatingly comical) he would correct that assumption. But then again, what’s the harm in allowing a little rumor like that to spread and strike some healthy fear into the hearts of his would-be blackmailers? 
“Come on guys.” Warriors’ voice rises above the hushed clamor of the others, all bickering about Time’s ability, or lack thereof to watch them through his wings. “He’s exhausted. Let him sleep.”
The heroes try to quiet, though their efforts are about as successful as Time suspected they would be. Whispers and barely stifled laughter continue to weave their way gallantly through the night.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
…though a few more telltale clicks of Wild’s slate cement his decision to play a prank on him as soon as he regains his strength. 
“He’s so small,” someone murmurs, now as the hubbub begins to subside, sleepiness getting the best of even the most energetic among them. Sky, Time’s mind slowly supplies, putting a face to the voice that wafts gently around him. “To think, he healed us all while in that form…”
“Something you get to know very quickly about Sprite is that size doesn’t bother him,” Warriors replies, fondness in his tone. “Even as a kid, he could take out groups of monsters much larger than what we faced today.”
Sky chuckles, soft and almost sad. Time is too far gone to decipher why. 
But he can’t deny the sudden rush of warmth when the chosen hero whispers, “thank you…little one.” And when, in the next moment, Sky ghosts a finger over the very tip of his wings, Time is unafraid beneath his touch. 
He drifts off not long afterward to the sound of tired murmurs, the crackling of the campfire, and a soft song played upon an ocarina, the notes drifting up toward the moon.
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alastor-simp · 1 month
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Sickly Deer - Sick Alastor X Female Reader
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❥Summary - Alastor is a very proud man, and he will almost never admit that something is wrong. However, you noticed he seemed a bit off today and wanted to know what was wrong?
❥Tags: Sick alastor, sick day, alastor becomes sick, female reader, reader takes care of a sick alastor, stubborn alastor, fluff , adorable fluff, taking care of someone sick
❥Notes: Always wanted to do a sick character story and I finally get to do one with Alastor.
Was a quiet day in the hotel today. Usually there was the occasional chaos, but surprisingly it was peaceful. Charlie and Vaggie were out shopping for groceries for the hotel. Angel was lounging in his room, relaxing with Fat Nuggets. Niffty was reading a book, most likely manga in the lounge room, with Husk taking a cat nap on the couch next to her. Sir Pentious was in his ship, crafting some devices with his egg bois.
You were lounging in the hotel library, enjoying some quiet time to yourself while reading. Well it was quiet for a second until you heard the sound of static-like cough coming from next to you. Alastor happened to be in the library as well, reading his weekly newspaper. He's usually very quiet when he reads, except with the occasional sound of humming or static. But this was new, as you almost never heard him cough or let alone sneeze for that matter. The coughing started slow, but then it kept getting rougher as he kept doing it, causing you to worry. "Hey Al?" Your eyes were gazing at him with concern. Alastor turned his head towards you, wearing his signature smile: “Yes? What is it my dear?” “Well, are you alright? I noticed you have been coughing a lot. Once you said that, Alastor let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh-ho! It is nothing my dear. Just a small tickle. Nothing to concern yourself with!” He waved his hand in the air, after he finished talking. You still felt unsure, but if he said it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t question him.
How wrong you were, the more and more you saw Al throughout the day, the worse his cough got. Not only that, his face was slightly paler and a bit drenched with sweat. He still was acting like everything was alright, but you knew he was lying. Enough was enough. You caught up with Alastor, as he was walking down the hallway. “Alastor! Stop!” You yelled his name out. He stopped in front of you, and slowly turned around, head tilted in confusion. “You’re sick, aren’t you” Alastors face stayed neutral when you said that, but you knew you got him. “I told you already, my dear. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.” Alastor just smiled wider and turned away from you to continue walking. He was stopped again when he felt a hand grab one of his coat sleeves. His body grew tense and he turned back eerily, not appreciating you touching him. You gave him a strong look: “Well, I AM concerned. And you should be resting cause you’re only going to make it worse.” His garnet colored eyes locked on to yours, static in the air getting louder. “I am the radio demon, my dear. I do not get sick, so please remove your hand, n̸͚͇̏̉o̸̼̓ẇ̷̹̓.” His eyes flashed into radio dials for a split second, causing you to remove your hand from his sleeve quickly. “Thank you. Now then, I shall take my leave.” He turned back around and began to walk away from you. As you were watching him walk away, you noticed he drew to a stop again. His body was still up, but then he began to fall forward. “AL!”
**Alastor POV**
“Ugh….huh?” Alastors eyes opened slowly. He recognized he was in his hotel room as the ceiling was covered in grassy moss and leaves, as he was the one to change it due to his magic. He soon realized he was laying on his bed, wearing his pajamas as he slowly got up from lying down. He doesn’t recall heading back to his room, as his head was still a bit fuzzy. His head was throbbing and his throat was feeling sore. Alastor knew he was feeling sickly, but he refused to believe it. He hates to be perceived as weak, so he preferred to play it off that he was fine.
The sound of the door opening alerted him, causing him to look up. He sees you walking into his room, carrying a tray along with a plastic bag hanging from your arms. “Oh your awake? How are you feeling?” You bear a smile at him, as you walk closer to his bed, setting the tray down on the night stand. “How did I end up here?” Alastor questioned you, still confused at what happened. “You don’t remember?” Your eyes gazed at him back with concern. Alastor shook his head. “You fainted Al. I stopped you in the hallway cause I knew you were sick, but you said you were fine and as you walked away, you stopped and fell forward.” Al’s eyes widen at your statement, as he kept listening to you talk. “I carried you back to your room after that.” You gave him a small smile.
“I see. I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through my dear, but I’m quite alright now.” Pulling the covers off, Al swung his feet to place them in the floor. He was stopped by a hand on his chest. “Oh no you don’t mister. You are staying in bed and getting better. Understand?” Your eyes were filled with determination. “My dear, I am qui-” “Understand?” His words were cut off by you. He continued to look at your face, seeing that you were refusing to budge. Heaving a sigh, he nodded his head. He positioned himself back to how he was on the bed. “Does anyone else know about my ailment?" He said, as you turned his head to look at you. You were removing some stuff out of the plastic bag and set them on the night stand before turning back to him. "The only ones who know are me and Niffty. No one else, I promise you. I had to tell her you were under the weather, and she told me to head to the store to get you some medicine while she made you some venison stew." Alastor continued to listen until he asked you another question: "Did you change me into my pajamas as well?" Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head no. "Your shadow happened to appear when I brought you to the bed. I told it to change you." Alastor just nodded his head at that, smiling at bit wider at your adorable reaction.
Grabbing one of the chairs from Al's desk, you brought it over to where his bed was and took a seat. Reaching for the bowl, you placed it on your lap. He observed you blow a bit on the spoon and hold it out to him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. "Come on Al. There's nothing wrong with me feeding you." Alastor sighed, and opened his mouth, allowing you to give him some of the stew that Niffty prepared. He was able to finish it all off, which pleased you. Placing the bowl back, you grabbed the medicine and a glass of water and handed it to him. Alastor grabbed it and quickly popped them in his mouth, chugging the water to get them down. Sighing, he laid back on the bed, placing his head on the pillow, turning it away from you. "I despise this feeling." He whispered that to himself, but you were able to pick up on it since you were still seated next to him. "What feeling?" you said back to him, tiling your head. "Alastor continued to look away. "The feeling of being sick. Makes me appear weak." Alastor grumbled out the response.
Alastor remained quiet after that. A hand was placed against his cheek, allowing his head to turn back towards you. His eyes widen at you, as he saw you wearing a kind smile. "You're not weak Alastor. Everyone gets sick from time to time, nothing wrong with it. Also, you should know the others would never think about that, they would rather you get some rest and get better." Your thumb stroked his cheek. Alastor listened to what you said and gave a sigh, closing his eyes. "I know, my dear. Just.....feels strange." Moving his hand, he placed it against the one on his cheek. "Thank you, my dear. If there comes a time where you are ailing, I will return the favor." His lips curved into a soft smile. He heard you chuckle, as your hand moved away from his cheek. "Get some rest, Al. I'll come back to check on you." Smiling, you got up from the chair, and grabbed the tray, heading over to the door. Alastor just watched you walk away, leaving his room, and closing the door. His eyes began to grow heavy, as his body started to relax, drifting into a deep sleep.
TAG LIST:
Tag List:
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sailor-aviator · 7 months
Note
I have but a humble request, and that is mister Bob, anyway you’ll give him 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 (yuckosworld)
@yuckosworld ALWAYS. Prepare to gush. Also, gonna go ahead and tag @bobgasm in this for reasons.
You heard the sound of your apartment door open with a small thud followed by muffled laughter. Furrowing your brow, you wandered through the hall and into the living room.
"Bobby?" you call hesitantly. Another thud.
"We're in here, y/n!" Mickey calls. You hurried to the entry way, finding Mickey supporting your boyfriend with Bob's arm thrown over his shoulder so that he didn't fall onto the floor. You rushed over to them, taking Bob's other arm over your own shoulder, and helping guide him into the living room. You and Mickey managed to set him on the couch where his head flopped back, a grin plastered on his face. You turned your attention to Mickey, hands on your hips.
"What happened?" You demanded. Mickey let out a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Someone accidentally mixed the alcoholic beer with the non-alcoholic stuff. We didn't notice until, well," he trailed off, gesturing to your boyfriend who you now realized was absolutely plastered. You had insisted he go out with the guys that night for some much needed "guy time."
"Accidentally?" you questioned Mickey with a purse of your lips. Mickey shrugged with another defeated sigh.
"Sorry y/n," he said, giving you a sympathetic look. "I brought him home as soon as we realized what happened."
"It's not your fault, Mickey," you sighed. You began waving him towards the door. "You go on home. I've got him."
"You sure?" Mickey asked uncertainly, but you nodded, offering him a small smile.
"Yeah, I'm sure," you murmured, looking at your boyfriend who was already staring at you with wonder in his eyes. Mickey said his goodbyes and you heard the latch of the door as he closed it behind himself.
"Oh, Bobby," you cooed, reaching down to run a hand through his soft hair.
"Hi Bugaboo," he slurred, grinning. He reached out his arms towards you, and you complied, straddling him when he pulled you down.
"Missed you s'much," he said as he leaned his forehead against yours.
You hummed as his arms wrapped around you and started stroking the small of your back where your low cut tank top had ridden up. "You weren't even gone that long, baby."
"Was still t'long," he muttered, burying his face into your chest. He nuzzled deeper and you heard him say something into your skin.
"What was that, Bobby?"
"I said," he started, looking up at you from his current position, "that you're always s'soft."
You chuckled, stroking his cheek. "That's very sweet of you, baby."
He nuzzled back into you, letting out a yawn. "S'true."
"C'mon, love," you whispered down into his ear, sending a shiver up his spine. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"
Bob's head shot up from your chest, a wide, mischievous grin slowly spreading across his face. "Yeah?"
You let out another chuckle, shaking your head. "to sleep, baby boy."
Bob pouted, deepening it when you moved to stand up. When you reached out your hand to him, he grabbed it gently and allowed you to pull him up.
"Fine," he huffed, leaning down to bury his face into your neck. He pressed light kisses up from the base and onto your face. He continued to press light kisses all over your face until you were a giggling mess in the middle of the living room. Bob pulled back with another pout when you pushed at his chest lightly.
"Bed, mister," you smiled sweetly up at him. He let out another huff of breath, but then seemed to perk up when he thought of something.
"We can cuddle in bed?" he asked you excitedly, earning another soft giggle from you.
"Of course, Bobby."
Bob practically stumbled his way to your shared bedroom, insisting he was fine to walk on his own and far too excited to hold you in his arms. He'd feel it in the morning, but you'd let him enjoy it now.
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mikachacha · 7 months
Text
𝙸 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙰 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)
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Synopsis: You're a famous idol and you love it but there's just one rule that doesn't sit with you, you're not allowed to date. You're so in love with Bada, the person who's doing most of your song choreographies and she is equally as in love as you are.
Warnings: idk yet. Maybe just a lot of fluff?
(A/N: @asweetcollide you and your amazing song suggestions 🥺🫶)
🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸
"Bada I couldn't do this anymoreeee.." you whined and Bada raised an eyebrow, looking at you sprawled out on the floor of the studio. She was thinking you were tired from practicing already but you had a different dilemma.
"If you want, we can call it a day then we continue tomorrow. Is that okay with you?" Bada asked as she sat down on the floor beside you. You rolled over and looked up at her, your eyes gleaming from happiness.
"Yes please! Can we go have a picnic instead?" you asked and she chuckles, nodding her head. She really couldn't say no to you at this point. She loves you way too much.
"Fine, we're going on a picnic so go home and get changed. I'll be picking you up in an hour." Bada says and you cheered before rushing to go back to your apartment. You made sure to make yourself look pretty even though it's only you and Bada together. You found a spot where you regularly go with Bada, it's a park that a few people goes to and you love it since you can finally be yourself without cameras and crazy people trying to take you and Bada down from the spotlight.
An hour has passed and Bada came to pick you up for your impromptu picnic date. She could feel her heart beat fast and cheeks creeping up her cheeks as she saw you looked so pretty in your outfit. The both of you got inside her car and she placed a kiss on your cheek when she fixed your seat belt for you.
"You looked so pretty, Y/N.. It's like I'm going on a date with an angel right now.." Bada praised and you giggled, cheeks red at her compliment.
"You look really pretty, too.. I don't know how but you give a feminine and masculine energy at the same time and it's making my heart go insane at how good looking you are, Bada.." you rambled a bit dramatically which mada Bada laugh and shake her head in pure amusement.
Bada drove while you're her pretty passenger princess that's spamming her phone with your selfies. You and Bada aren't exactly together but you go on dates whenever you can. You want to be with her but you weren't really allowed to date, let alone date a woman. The both of you will get in trouble and it made your heart ache.
"What's wrong, sweet cheeks?" Bada asked as you suddenly became quiet and looking upset. You huffed and sighed before turning to look at her. You couldn't bear the thought of not being with her but you also didn't want both your careers to suffer. You worked so hard to be where you are right now and Bada as well. But you can't deny that you're in love with her. You're torn between your feelings and the consequences it will create not only for you but for Bada as well.
"I'm just thinking about this, about whatever we have right now.." you told her and she reached out to hold your hand, giving it a light squeeze. She knows that it's hard for you, the same thoughts are running through her head and it's driving her crazy.
Bada parks the car and leads you to your usual spot, by the pond. She sets up the picnic and lets you go roam around a bit. When you got back, you were holding a small puppy that you found abandoned near the pond. You felt sorry for it so you picked it up and brought it over to where Bada was. The both of you ate and rested for a bit before talking about all of your worries regarding to what's going on between the two of you.
"I badly want to be called as your girlfriend, Bada. I really do but I also don't want to ruin our careers because of that. I know for a fact that you worked so hard to be where you are right now and I don't want to take that away from you.." you said as you laid your head on her shoulder. Bada sighs and kissed the top of your head. Her heart fluttered at your confession that you wanted to be her girlfriend which she found really adorable.
"Y/N.. You can still be my girlfriend. We can still be girlfriends. The world doesn't have to know it just yet.. We can just keep it a well guarded secret that only the two of us knows. Well, that puppy knows but he can't talk so it doesn't matter.." she says, joking on the last part just to cheer you up. You looked up at her, tears brimming your eyes and just hugged her which she returned.
"Sounds good to me, Bada. We're girlfriends now.. You, me, the puppy and this spot are the only ones to know that what we have is real.." you smile and placed a kiss on her lips, a sign that even when kept a secret, your love for each other still remains.
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gt-daboss · 3 months
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GT Kisses
I know im usually not on the romantic side of the GT community BUT OH MY GOD I CANNOT GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD RIGHT NOW. Like give me the most soppy, wet, lovey-dovey relations ever. love so sweet it makes you sick. Give me shy Tinies, blushing giants, heartbeats you can feel through your partners chest. Give me giant's whos eyes light up the moment they see tiny S/O, rushing over to coddle and cuddle their entire world/.
Give me shy Giant BF/GF who doesnt wanna come off as overbearing or forcing themselves onto smol, but tiny literally wants nothing more than to be smothered by their giants lips, lips the size of their entire head. Give me the subtle inhaling and exhaling that can only be felt by smol. The warm, comforting breath blowing through your hair right before they lean in to give a kiss that fills your entire vision. or better yet, smol standing up on their tippy toes to reach and PULL the giants lips down so they can be Kisser rather than kiss-ee
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