#thats a lie i got cupboards

[baekuras]

Me: Oh I’ll just do something fun and make some rooms for my ocs in the Sims to get their whole style and stuff down better

Me hours later 2 rooms and a whole house in (and keep in mind-I am the kinda guy who goes ham in the character creator and never really made any builds beside the basic needs being met-ones): this was a mistake

anyhow

send help only 2 of those rooms are for actually relevant characters-the rest is add on (parents and guestroom and also too many bathrooms bc money)

[kittysarchive]

"Your not being greedy!!!! (this is the only ask in the inbox :)"

Thanks for reassurance🥲 lmao and HOW IS IT possible?! It cant be the only ask 😦 THIS NEEDS ATTENTION!

Since its okay, heres my another request.Its been a while I saw anything like this and theres no similar fic for txt so here we go : Seven minutes in heaven with enemies to lovers! Sub! Taehyun × reader.

You can make it any say you want sfw/nsfw/or whatever else.

Thankyou! 💕 anon 🗿

attempted rape? 1043 words😂

You sat in a circle, playing a simple party game.

Well that's what you though. Facing the bottle, you were fine with spin the bottle and a peck....but not 7 minutes in heaven. Thats when you realised your mistake. Your ego was to big, thinking you would never get picked yet here everyone was cheering you on, forcing you to get into the cupboard with the one and only Taehyun.

It would be a lie to say you didn't have anything against him. Taehyun never left you alone, he was always beating you, always there to pick on you, always there and family friends events.... Placing you out of your daze, you felt a nudge on your shoulder.

"It's just 7 minutes, go in already" One of your friends begged you. Not wanting to be labelled as a looser or scaredy cat you gave into peer pressure. Standing up, you heard more cheers and laughs.

Slowly walking to the closet, Taehyun followed closely behind. Opening the door, a few of the party goers closed the door, hearing the door click shut you prayed it was over. 7 minutes in hell with Taehyun, and the door was locked.

1 minute

looking around, well there wasn't anything to look at. It was pitch black. Trying to get a glimpse of how big the space was, you touched shoulders Taehyun. Sadly that caused him to bark up.

"Aren't we supposed to kiss...make out?" You didn't need light to see his smirk. Whispering in your ear only made goosebumps appear.

"I am not kissing you" You laughed turning your head away. Feeling a blush rise on your cheeks, you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Was a has good as he said he was? Was that a phony lie? Does he have a big cock-

"Are you thinking about me?" He approached you, forcing your back to hit the clothes. You gulped back your fear. You were so glad he couldn't see your red face.

2 minutes

Feeling his body up against yours, you tensed up. Why was he making you feel like this...one kiss wouldn't hurt right?

"C'mon.....Just a quick peck, at least we did something " Taehyun laughed. You eyes grew used to the darkness, unfortunately you could see Taehyuns nasty smirk.

"Fine" You say sharply, seeing Taehyun turn his head to the side, you lean in to kiss him on the cheek, sadly you fell for his trick. Having turned his head to face you, your lips landed onto his.

Trying to back away from the kiss, his hands moved to the back of your head, forcing you into a deeper kiss. Hands trying to push Taehyun away, he forced his body closer to you, his kisses taking your breath away.

Not letting you stray away from his lips, he forced his tongue inside your mouth. Feeling his tongue in your mouth, you bit him hard. Taehyun quickly takes his head away.

"What the fuck was that for?" His eyes are filled with anger. How dare you bite his tongue! It was bleeding now!

3 minutes

Leaning back in for a other kiss, you begged him to stop.

"P-please stop" You cried out, trying to push his strong build away, he only laughed at your pleads.

"You kissed me back" Feeling tears well up, you had no escape for him, for all you knew, you could have been in here for only a minute.

"We've still got about 5 minutes baby...why don't you get on your knees if you want to apologise for that stunt huh?" Shoving you onto your knees, fresh tears fell. Unbuckling his pants, his cock slapped our face. Feeling yourself get wet.....you knew this wasn't right. You squeezed his cock hard, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Why don't you get on your knees and apologise for assaulting me?" You got up on your knees, smiling seeing Taehyun gulp.

4 minutes

Surprisingly, Taehyun knelt down. You did not think he would listen to you. Pulling down your own pants along with your panties, you let him get to work.

Slowly, he licked up your essence, lightly thrusting in his finger. Careful to not be loud, since people were most likely eaves dropping.

Looking down, in the dim light you made eye contact with him. Taehyun looked so cute below you... Quietly licking you up, his nose nudged into your pussy, giving you some friction.

5 minutes

Pulling him up by his hair, He winced in pain. But you knew dam well he liked it. Being forced away from your cunt, he wiped his mouth.

Not giving him a chance to utter a word, you forced him into a kiss. You dominating him as you led the kiss. Lips chasing off another, breathing in each other hair, you tasted your arousal on his lips. Moaning into his mouth, your felt him get hard against you leg. You had forgotten his cock was still out.

Lips never leaving the intoxicating kiss you hand travelled down to his member, slightly stroking it. Immediately Taehyun groaned into your mouth. Pulling away from the kiss, he begged for your touch.

"P-please" He whispered, forehead against yours, crying silently as you pumped his member.

6 minutes

Bringing him back to the kiss, you melted as you heard him whining into his mouth, you never finished pumping his cock.

Bringing your other hand, you stroked his hair. Double kill. He whined louder in your mouth. Close to Cuming, stroking his hair made it definite.

"C-can I cum" He whispered, breaking apart form the kiss, you hum in response. Sucking in a breath, you feel him cum into your hand. You hand, all warm and sticky, you bright it to his lips.

Not needing a word, he licks his seed off your hand. Sucking between your fingers, licking your palm, he swallowed all of his cum.

7 minutes

"Your so dirty" You tease, as he wiped his mouth clean. Quickly putting his cock in his boxers, and pulling his pants open, you heard your friends approach the dirty. Turning away from Taehyun the door open.

"Did you guys even do anything?"

"You were so quite"

"Their clothes are still on"

Their questions and remarks invade you as you step out, leaving Taehyun flustered alone.

*little rushed?

[rebelsandtherest]

Home for Christmas

Words: 4,049

Summary: Matthew falls ill just before the family Christmas bash, and thinks he's missed the entire thing. However, once he hears that his baby brother is sick, Alfred concocts a bit of a holiday surprise. —— this fic is a little late, but Merry Christmas, everyone, and here's to many more!

Warnings: langauge, talk of family during holidays, nothing else that I can think of.

Author’s note: a belated gift to a dear friend, @draw-a-circle-thats-the-compass

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

For however many hundreds of winters Matthew Williams had endured in his home, be it in the warmth of an electric-heated home, or warding off frostbite in the untamed wilderness, he would never truly get used to the speed with which the solar night crept down from the pole. It was the dark especially that always sent spikes of dread into his bones, stealing away his warmth and setting pallor in his hands and feet, spreading chill upwards to his whole body.

This year, when he felt the frigid fingers of depression reaching through his chest with the 4:30 sunset, he mustered his willpower and on a spiteful whim bought tickets to Calgary. He had a seldom-used mountain cabin tucked away within the confines of Banff, and while he wasn’t sure the new park rangers still received the memo about him and his cabin during orientation, he was willing to invoke the Minister’s ire if it meant he could dust off his best skis and escape his mind on the slopes.

The cabin was just as he’d left it, and the radiators crackled their way to warm almost as soon as he turned them on. His wool blankets had a few new holes in them, but the quilts were warm and the fireplace clean, and he didn’t even have to replace any lightbulbs, not even in the groaning old icebox. His great snowy-white dog, Buddy, quickly found his favorite bear-fur rug and curled up by the fire, ready to dive into the snow alongside his human the next day.

It was only Matt’s luck that he woke up with a sore throat. He lived in denial for a whole day, basking in the perfect weather and flying down every slope he could get his skis on. But as the too-early sunset crept below the mountains, he began to realize he was swaying on his feet, and moreover, that he’d stopped sweating.

“Shit,” He huffed into his scarf. By the time he was back at his cabin, he could taste the fever on his breath.

Matt wasn’t sure what he’d managed to pick up on his journey westward, but whatever it was, be it cold or flu or covid or tuberculosis, within a few days it had him in a death grip and refused to let go. As he lie in bed, fever-dreaming his vacation away, the darkness grew and grew, and soon Matt felt himself falling into the well of despondency that refilled every winter.

Buddy kept him company, and he’d mustered the energy to call his Dutch beau, Jan, once or twice, but the fever had stolen his ability to tell time, and both times he’d spent about half of the call apologizing for waking him at two in the morning, and the other half repeating himself when Jan got lost in his feverish amalgamation of English and French. He had some anxiety-inducing number of unread text messages waiting for him in the corner of his phone, but reading was a doomed endeavor with his puffy, aching eyes. He watched whatever public tv stations still reached his ancient bunny-eared set, but ended up falling asleep nearly as soon as he sat down.

After some untold number of days, his fever broke, and while he was rationing the NyQuil he still had in his cupboards, he’d taken a full dose the first few nights after his fever and had been mostly comatose since. He’d been sound asleep on the couch one afternoon when his phone began to ring, buzzing loudly against the window sill just above him, until it vibrated its way fully off the sill and directly onto Matt’s head.

“Fucking putain,” he groaned and was shocked at how gravelly his voice came out. The offending device had fallen into his lap, buried somewhere in the folds of his blanket, still buzzing away. He fished it out and stabbed at the screen with squinted eyes, looking for the ‘ignore call’ button, but ended up hitting the ‘answer’ button instead. Only then did he see the caller’s name.

“...Mattie? You there?” asked Alfred from the other line. Matt sighed and sank back into bed, rubbing at the spot where his phone had hit, knowing it would be a lump by the end of the hour.

“Yeah?” he answered, trying to rein in his annoyance at being woken up.

“Holy shit bro, you sound terrible. Are you okay?”

“Sick,” Matt told him.

“Sick? I thought you were going skiing!” Matt closed his eyes, which made his head feel like he was spinning.

“I did. Skied. Got sick. Et voilà. ”

“Aww jeez Mattie. Do you think you’ll be good for our flight on Thursday?” Matt blinked.

“What flight?”

“...To London? Dad’s annual fussy Christmas bash, you know the drill.”

“That’s not until the 22nd.”

“...Matt, it’s December 20th.”

“What?” Matt’s voice cracked with his incredulity. “No, it’s… I got here on the 10th, it’s only been a couple of days, the 22nd isn’t until… I mean I don’t know when but it’s more than three days away.”

“Wait you think it’s only been—Mattie, how many days did you ski before you got sick?” Matt hesitated, embarrassed of the answer.

“One.”

“Oh my god,” Alfred sounded genuinely surprised, and it took him a moment to say, “ Matt, you’ve been sick for a week? And you still sound like this? You don’t still have a fever, do you?”

“No, it went away… I can’t remember.” Matt rubbed his face, and every inch ached. “Listen, it’s not December 19th, I swear, if you’re fucking with me–”

“Look at your phone.”

“What?”

“Look at the date on your phone.”

Matt did.

“Fuck,” he said, staring at the giant calendar date as though it would change if he stared long enough.

“Yeah,” Alfred’s voice was tinny away from his ear. Matt finally blinked and sank further under his blankets, and eventually brought the phone back to his face.

“You’re going to have to apologize to dad for me,” Matt said, “I thought it was… Jesus, I missed my flight back to Ottawa, shit.”

“Wait, you're still in Calgary?”

“Banff.”

“You didn’t leave the dog at home, did you?”

“No, he’s with me,” Matt could feel his voice getting more hoarse.

“Well that’s something. Man, you picked a helluva time to get sick, huh.”

“Apparently,” Matt wished he were comatose for all of this.

“Listen, slam some water—or gatorade, if you have it—and get some rest, okay? I know you’re feeding Buddy, but feed yourself too, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Matt.”

“...I’ll try.”

“Good. Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Don’t die.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“Glad to hear it. Gotta go. Love you, kiddo, feel better.”

Matt began to respond, but before he could finish, Alfred hung up. Matt watched his brother’s smiling icon disappear from the screen, leaving only the giant, damning calendar. Matt stared at it and sighed, heart sinking down through his bed and the cabin itself and into the frozen ground below. There was no way he’d be in shape to fly to Ottawa in the next three days, to say nothing of flying to Ottawa and then across the Atlantic to London.

Buddy, though far too large to be a lapdog, leapt up onto the couch draped himself across Matt’s body, crawling on his belly until he was able to nose the man’s chin, giving it a lick.

“Yeah I know,” Matt sighed, petting the dog’s soft ears and wishing it could make him feel better. “I guess I should tell dad.” The thought made his heart sink even further. “Uncle Alisdair was going to bring his homemade whiskey and everything. Even Aunt Bridgid agreed to go this year. But I guess it’s just,” Matt craned his neck to look over into his small kitchen. There was an old, half-empty bottle of whiskey and a small bag of miniatures he’d picked up while waiting on his flight. “…that, you, me, and whatever the fuck is left in the fridge. Merry fucking Christmas, eh?” Buddy whined, and licked Matt’s face again. He sighed.

“Yeah, me neither.”

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

December 22nd came and went, and by the 23rd, Matthew was less sick than he had been, but still far from healthy. “I imagine Uncle Rhys has already played referee to five fights by now, what d’you think?” He asked his dog. Buddy sneezed. “You’re right, maybe only four.” Matt tried to imagine it; Alfred and Dad, probably, Brighid and dad, certainly. If they were drunk enough, Zee and Uncle Alistair would fight about who was the better skier. Jack wouldn’t hurt a fly so long as he had a beer or cider in hand, though Alfred was certain to seek out arguments for sport—Matt really wished he could get his brother to understand that most people didn’t view arguments as fun.

In past years, he’d spent weeks complaining to Jan about the chaos that accompanied his family’s holiday’s reunions. Now, left alone in a cabin with nothing but his dog, whiskey, and his own thoughts, he realized that he missed it dearly, in the strangest way.

“I’m going to sleep,” he told his dog, who was practically asleep himself. “Hopefully until the New Year.”

It was an ironic cruelty that it was more difficult to sleep while sick than while healthy. It was as if his body was in a civil war over whether it needed to be asleep and miserable or awake and miserable. So, when Matt finally fell into a deep sleep, the half of his body that preferred to be asleep and miserable fought tooth and nail to keep him that way. Unfortunately, someone was trying to break into his house.

It was actually Buddy who finally roused him. Though the banging on the door was difficult to ignore, Buddy’s frantic barking was even harder to ignore. Head pounding, Matt rolled himself bodily out of bed, taking half of the quilt with him. He dragged it behind him, half draped over him, as he trudged to the door. Behind the old white curtain hanging over the door’s window, there was an imposing, human-shaped shadow.

“Fucking park rangers,” Matt groused, and glared down at Buddy. “I thought I told you to remind me to turn the lights off last night.” Buddy barked at him, and Matt sighed. “Listen,” he unlocked the door and pulled on the handle, “I’m allowed to be here, call your superintendent, I’m sure they’ll—Alfred?!”

“Finally!” beamed his brother, clad in a designer parka and what looked like a home-made toque, “I was beginning to think you were dead, which you promised you wouldn’t be. Can I come in? Fucking freezing out here.”

Matt stared for a prolonged number of seconds before he blurted, voice cracking: “Shouldn’t you be in London?” Alfred looked affronted.

“While my baby brother is on his deathbed in the bumfuck nowhere, Alberta? No way!”

“Banff isn’t bumfuck nowhere, and I’m not dying.”

“Banff isn’t, but this cabin sure is, and I’m glad you’re not dying, now can I please come inside? I’m freezing my nuts off out here.” Matt stood aside, still processing the sight of his brother in the flesh. Buddy’s tail was wagging wildly as Alfred came inside, jumping at the chance to sniff the newcomer, dancing happily around the American in a way he did for no one else.

“You should be in London,” Matt said again, head aching.

“I wasn’t about to leave you here, you dumb fuck, jeez, it’s freezing in here, too.” Alfred cast a look down at Buddy. “You let him live like this?” a singular, insistent bark. “Ah, that tracks. Never was good at looking after himself.” He looked up back to Matt, shedding his mittens and shoving them into his coat pockets. “Alright, kiddo, let’s get you packed.”

“Packed?” Matt’s voice squeaked, and he realized even the small amount of talking he’d done with Alfred was killing his voice completely, “Alfred, I can’t go to London, we talked about this–”

“Who keeps talking about London? Not me—we’re going to my place. Idaho!”

“Idaho?” Matt’s brain took a while to buffer. “Wait, at your—”

“At my ranch? Yup!”

Ranch was not the word Matt would have used; Alfred was as rugged a rancher as any rancher alive or dead, but he also had what Matt could only refer to as a Kardashian sense of luxury, and enough money to blend the two lifestyles together. Matt realized all at once the expense Alfred must have spent to abandon the family Christmas, travel north, and prepare his Idaho mansion for his company. “Alfred, you don’t have to, really—”

“Dude, cut the apologies, I’ve broken like, at least four international laws to park my cessna out back, so get your shit and let’s go. No arguing!”

“You what?!”

“C’mon, we’re wastin’ daylight!”

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

If Alfred weren’t already breaking laws north of the border for skipping customs, the FAA south of the border surely would’ve surely had complaints about the alterations he’d made to the rear seat of his plane. Where once there had been two passenger seats with requisite seatbelts and safety features, there was now a cozy, cot-sized bed with enough pillows and blankets for two king-sized beds. By the time Alfred had convinced Matt to “just get in the goddamn plane”, Buddy had already found the fluffiest pillow of the bunch and fallen asleep.

“Here, take this.” While the engines warmed up, Alfred leaned back to hand Matt a handful of gummies from the pilot’s seat.

“What is it?” Matt squinted at the candy.

“Delta 8 and melatonin,” Alfred said, replacing his specs with aviators and pulling on his headset. “Now make like your dog and sleep , kay? You look like you need it.”

Matt scoffed. “Thanks,” he said, and chewed the candy together. It was the last thing he remembered doing before Alfred shook him awake and gently informed him that they’d arrived in Bumfuck Nowhere—and it was actually bumfuck nowhere—Idaho.

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

Matt had visited Alfred’s Idaho Ranch-Mansion plenty of times since it’d been finished sometime in the late 90s, and the mountain drive from the airport to the wide-windowed lodge was an unexpected source of nostalgia of birthdays, holidays, and drunken benders past. Matt hauled himself to the window once the familiar hand-hewn wooden fences appeared, squinting against the blinding snowy paddocks until the first blanketed horses came into view. Matt couldn’t help but smile, maybe the first smile he’d entertained since falling ill. Alfred’s horse herd was made up of innumerable bloodlines, nowadays, but at the center of their pedigree was the blood of some sturdy old Morgans Matt had gifted to him during his civil war. Alfred kept a book that traced their sires all the way back to their Canadian forefathers, and seeing the newest generations never failed to swell Matt’s heart. As if sensing what his brother was looking at, Alfred said,

“Bonfire foaled twins this year—really late, too, October. I can’t remember if I told you that.”

“Really?” “Yeah, both little stubborn shits too, probably why they both lived. I’ve got them up at the barn to keep warm.”

“What’d you name them?” Matt asked. Alfred grinned, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Pumpkin and Sweet Potato.”

“Alfred, you have to stop naming them after food.”

“What?! It was October! They’re cute.”

As they pulled up the house, Alfred was still defending his food-inspired horse name choices when Matt spotted something strange in the driveway.

“Who’s car is that?” He asked, eyeing the plain white SUV parked to one side of the massive driveway.

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Alfred bent down to peer at the car. “They didn’t all fit in the Bronco, so I had to rent a car for ‘em.”

“For who?”

“I’ll explain later,” Alfred said, shifting the car into park. Matt didn’t miss the small smirk his brother tried to hide. Immediately, a knot of dread formed in his stomach. “Let’s just get you inside and situated, yeah?”

Alfred didn’t have to explain, because the moment he unlocked the front door, the familiar sounds of pointless arguments flooded his ears.

“-bloody fucking ridiculous,” said the very drunk, very Dad voice somewhere deeper into the house. On the doorstep, Matt froze halfway out of his shoes and shot a look at Alfred, who responded by smiling a bit wider, all-american dimples peaking through

“Well how about I conquer you for a century or ten and then I can tell you you’re ridiculous, you bloated fucken Gobshite! Oi, Jackie, back me up on this!”

“Is that aunt Brighid?” Matt asked, eyeing Alfred again. The American busied himself with physically helping Matt out of his boots.

“I have some slippers for you just inside—watch your step.”

“Oh shite, I think I hear someone at the door,” said a much closer, much more Australian voice, “I’ll be just a minute there, one second!”

“ Alfred how the fuck did you—” The door swung open in a rush.

“Save me,” begged a younger, freckled, brunette version of their father. The white puff at the end of his Santa Claus hat jumped when he did a double take at Matthew. His green eyes lit up like Christmas itself.

“Matt!” He greeted, smile spreading wide as the sun. “You look like shite, it’s so good to see you! Oi! You angry cunts!” he shouted over his shoulder, “Matt’s here!”

“What?”

“Oh, thank Christ. Matthew, come tell this woman—”

“You’ll not drag him into this! The bairn’s ill,”

“Are they,” Matt looked over at Alfred, who was still smiling like a smug bastard. “How did you—you’re—” He looked over at Jack, “I thought you were in London?”

“What?” Jack seemed honestly confused, glancing between Matt and Alfred. “Did the Yank seriously not tell you—” he gave Alfred a look, and upon seeing his smug expression, scoffed. “London was a wash this year,” he laughed, “Happy Christmas, mate, come on in.”

“How’d you get here?” Matt reiterated.

“Like I said,” Alfred piped up, pushing Matt towards the doorway. Looking down, Matt realized that, in his shock, Alfred had been the one to actually remove his shoes for him, “they didn’t all fit in the Bronco, so most of them got here by the last Grand Cherokee Avis had to offer. Go on, we’re letting the cold in.” Before Matt could step fully into the threshold, Buddy had bolted in between his legs, tail alert and wagging, eager to see the rest of the family.

“Buddy!” A feminine voice cried, “C’mere you big baby, say hello to auntie Zee,” a series of happy yelps followed, accompanied by drunken laughter.

“Well the dog is here,” Uncle Alisdair said in his loud brogue, “where’s the rest of the circus?”

“We’re here too,” Alfred said, walking behind Matt into the main living area.

“Och, there they are!” “Matthew, so good to see you,” Father looked genuinely happy to see him, soft smile creasing his eyes in the way that reminded Matt of the happiest parts of his childhood. “Come here, let me look at you.”

“Matt! Croeso ! What’s your poison? Mulled wine? Whiskey? Cider?”

“The bairn is sick, Rhys—”

“Alcohol never hurt anyone on Christmas,”

“Mary and all the saints, how have you lived this long—”

“Come over here and give us a hug, you muppets!” cried Zee, spreading her arms wide, a nearly-empty bottle of wine in one fist.

Matt was frozen in place, still coming off his melatonin and wondering if he was feverish again. He was dimly aware that his jaw was hanging open as he took in the gaggle of family packed into Alfred’s living room—dad, both uncles, Jack, Zee, even aunt Brighid. There were twinkling lights hung all around the vaulted ceilings and reflecting on the tall windows, a fresh-cut Christmas tree lit in the corner with a haphazard collection of presents and duty-free bags piled below, punch and whiskey and wine and beer stacked in disorganized bunches along the nearby bar counter.

“—sure he’s alright?” Zee was asking, when his ears decided to work again.

“He’s fine,” he heard Alfred say, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder. “He’s just a bit surprised.”

“You’re,” Matt said, looking around at them all, and everyone went quiet to listen to him. “You’re not. You’re meant to be in London,” Matt insisted.

“Nonsense!” Alisdair spoke up first. “We go to London every year, it was old enough a century ago, time for a change of pace.” He ignored it when Arthur glared at him. “‘Sides, you brother Money Bags over here promised he would take care of everything, else your dad wouldn’t have ever let TSA so much as look at his Christmas pudding—”

“ Alisdair,” Arthur hissed.

“You didn’t think we’d leave you alone, did you? On Christmas?” Jack was completely earnest when he said it. Seeing his baby brother’s face, and the faces of his ridiculous, loud, chaotic family, Matt suddenly found himself with watery eyes threatening to spill over.

“The kid’s on a few drugs right now, give him a little bit to recover,” laughed Alfred, arm around Matt’s shoulders. “He needs some rest. Come on, kiddo, let’s go get you set up in your—” Alfred paused and looked at their little brother.

“Jack, did you get your stuff—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved dismissively. “I moved rooms.”

“Awesome. Come on, kiddo, let’s get you in bed before you fall over.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up!” Rhys called.

“Unless we all have hangovers,” Zee amended, and she and Rhys laughed together. Alfred shook his head and led Matt to his usual room, the only bedroom in the house that had a heated bed.

“Upsy-daisy,” Alfred said, helping Matt up onto the cushioned mattress, pulling out the duvet before Matt sat on it and pulling it immediately over the younger man’s body up to his neck, cozy and warm.

“Hey, hey,” Matt hadn’t realized he’d let tears fall until Alfred was sitting on the bed beside him, brushing hair behind his ear and speaking to him softly in the way that had meant safe since he was a baby. “I wanted to surprise you, not incapacitate you, are you alright?”

Matt wiped his eyes, remembering his lonely cabin and the escape he’d been too sick to enjoy. Alfred’s house was warm and safe, and smelt of Christmas spices that harkened back to his earliest years. “Thank you,” Matt managed, gripping Alfred’s sleeve. “I don’t know how you—I didn’t think—” He sighed, feeling exactly how tired he was. “Thanks, Al.”

Al responded by wrapping him in a hug, warm and tight and safe and everything Matt needed to finally let himself rest. Over Alfred’s shoulder, he could see his dog sneak into the room, hopping up onto the foot of the bed.

“Get some good rest, okay? And don’t worry about anything,” Alfred said into his ear, bending down until Matt was lying back in bed. “We’ll all be here in the morning.”

“The fuck I did! It was your goddamned idea in the first place!” Alisdair’s bellow echoed down the hall and their brotherly moment broke so they could both whip their heads to the door to listen.

“My idea?!” countered their father, in the self-righteous tone that said he’d been at the rum punch a little too much that night, “The entire stupid thing was your doing, beginning to end!”

“You know,” came a third voice, “ I’m fairly sure that—” “Shut up, Rhys!” Shouted Alisdair and Father at once.

Alfred sighed. “Well, we’ll all probably be here in the morning. I’ll tell them to keep it down.”

“No,” Matt said, letting out a tired laugh. The bickering of his father and uncles blurred together in a familiar, lulling haze as sleep beckoned. “No, it’s okay. Merry Christmas, Alfred.” Matt was almost asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, mind’s eye filled with twinkling lights and familiar smiles, morphing into pleasant dreams of holidays past. He was still just awake enough to feel it when Alfred bent to kiss his forehead and brush a hand over his hair.

“Merry Christmas, Mattie. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

[forestryfae]

i am not looking forward to going home for FOUR days. all to clean out the house and get rid of stuff i dont want like. im gonna feel like shit for not selling it all, ill feel like shit for not spending time on selling it when i could have made atleast some money on it.

like i could. i should be selling it on my own and making money off of it cus thats the smart and correct choice but i straight up cant hang onto everything just in case its worth money. its too much and would people even want this stuff??

like its not getting tossed out unless its garbage, its getting picked up by a thrift shop in my city. the rest after that is stuff i want to keep and honestly theres like a handful of things i think i could keep so i can sell it on my own, lie realisticallya nd not just cus i feel guilty about not getting money for it, cus i know its worth money but like. am i really willing to keep a dresser i dont want just in case i can get like 500 nok off of it? what happens if i cant get it sold? what happens if the house is sold before i can get rid of it? yknow.

and like most of the stuff i own is just. there sint really an important memory tied to most of it beyond "i like this thing it looks pretty" or "i liked this thing when i bought it and i thought it was pretty and now ill feel bad if i dont keep it" like no?? im allowed to get rid of things i used to like but dont like anymore or even like but dont need or want anymore. like i have enough stuff in this apartment. i see now that i have a functional place to live what i want to keep and not keep and what i wish i had either more or less of.

i def feel like i need to take a picture of the cupboards here so i can look at what i already have and make decisions based on that.

i do want to say tho there are a few of the newer things ive bought that id like t buy more of to replace old stuff i didnt pick for myself. but that does also make me feel bad cus like i really like some of the stuff i was gifted. i was gifted a set of bowls and waterglasses and smaller waterglasses from my cousin and its actually good and real bought at a store not secondhand or thrifted stuff. it looks good it feels good its pretty and its visually pleasing. i really wanna keep it but at teh same time like do i really need 8 waterglasses? on top of the two i already own and the one i wanna keep that doesnt match anything cus its cute and has little kiwis on it. i also have a set of uh. fire opal glazed something idfk theyre orange and vintage and sort of iridescent. dessert bowls plus a big bowl and a big plate that i got from grandma. like i never use it. ever. ive used the fancy dessert bowl to put popcorn in or leftovers from dinner once. i never use it. i dont wanna get rid of it tho its important to me

i have a good memory so i know practically everything i have but the fact im sitting here thinking about what items i dont wanna get rid of and wondering whether i should get rid of stuff i wanna keep. ateast itll be easier to figure out whats worth keeping i guess

[shinyas-ashes]

Headcanon that when Kureto is beyond stressed he just starts cooking. He'll make five different full meals along with three desserts until he realizes he's doing it again and has to force himself to stop.

Surprisingly he mainly makes desserts and pastries, and when he doesn't know what to do with a whole chocolate cake, two dozen cupcakes, a full box of mirangue cookies, and a bowl of croissants he just places a few snacks in a box for Shinoa then has someone send the rest off. They go to places like office breakrooms, cafeterias or elementary and kindergarten classrooms.

Everyone knows of this esteemed Baker who is able to create such quality goods in the middle of the apocalypse, but no one knows that it's actually just Kureto Hiiragi stressed out because he didn't have time to go fishing that weekend.

[missmouse25]

So today is my birthday, and I was wondering if you’d write an imagine about spending a birthday with max f?

I know i sent you an ask but HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN! If i had known i wouldve planned this before hand 😅

Birthday Wishes - Max Fewtrell

female first person pov (he says girl and girlfriend. thats about it) // 937 words // no warnings. i did run with the idea though (like i tend to do)

-----

The bed felt cosy and the blankets so soft. So super cosy. Like I could lie there forever and ever and…

“Babe, are you awake?”

Slowly I rolled over to face the owner of the voice.

“Why do you need to know?” I asked, still half asleep.

“Because,” the voice said, now putting an arm around my waist. “Today’s a special day and I have plans for you.”

I took the opportunity to snuggle against his chest hoping for just one more minute.

“Can’t the plans wait?”

“No,” he laughed. “Come on, birthday girl, time to get up.”

After a short tussle on the bed, Max lead me by the hand out of our room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Despite the fact that we’d literally just woken up, he looked really cute. His hair was standing up in various directions; his shirt (having just been put on) wasn’t sitting quite right yet and was showing a bit of his tummy when he moved.

“Ok, your mom wants to call you later this evening. My mom wants to see you this afternoon. But I’ve booked you for the morning,” Max explained as he pulled a pan out of the cupboard.

“How do you know all that?”

Max seemed very amused at my question.

“I asked.” He gathered ingredients from around the kitchen. “I told you that I have plans for you. Well, for us.”

I hopped up onto the counter and watched as Max whipped up some flapjack mix and, once the pan was hot, got to cooking.

“Oh, my card for you should be there on the counter. Somewhere next to you,” he said.

I picked up the envelope with my name on it and pulled out the contents.

“Did you buy this card from the market we went to?” I asked, noticing that it was handmade.

“Yup,” he confessed. “It was hard to do it without you noticing though.”

The thought of Max secretly buying something for me made me feel giddy.

‘To my beautiful girlfriend <3 Happy birthday. You know I’m not great with meaningful messages. So just know that I love you and that your gift will be worth it. All my love Max’

“Such poetry,” I teased after I had read his card. But even if I did poke fun at him a bit, I knew I’d still cherish it. Which was evident by the way I held the card to my chest.

“Do I get to know what my gift is now?”

Max looked at me, seemingly weighing up how to answer. He flipped the flapjacks over before saying: “No. Not yet.”

But I noticed the smug smile on his face as he pretended to be busy with the food.

‘What does that sneaky bastard have planned?’

~

Breakfast was fulling but delicious. As soon as the last bite had been taken, Max was herding me back to the bedroom to get dressed and ready for the morning.

Very soon we were on the road headed too somewhere. I took the chance to check my phone for any messages from my family and friends.

“Lando sent ‘Happy day to you, hope Max treats you well.’” I read aloud, laughing a bit.

“He’s such an idiot.” Came the reply with a slight shake of his head.

“Well, he was your friend before he was mine,” I said. “You have to take responsibility for all the nonsense he says to me.”

“Fine, but only because it’s your birthday.”

Finally, Max pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car.

“This isn’t what I originally wanted to do with you.” Max leant on the centre consol. “But I think this will be a good enough substitute.”

With a quick wink, Max was out of the car and around to my side, opening the door.

I looked around and it started to click.

“No way…”

“Come on, love,” he said, taking my hand in his. “We need to get our race suits on.”

The smell of petrol hit my nose the moment we walked out towards the track. The go-karts were lined up and waiting. Max was trying to give me some tips on how to take the corners but I was too excited to really listen.

I felt so professional in my race suit, crash helmet tucked under my arm. I’d already told Max that we had to take lots of photos when we were done and because of the circumstances, he agreed.

“Babe?” Max caught my attention. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, let’s get your helmet on first.”

Max planted a quick kiss on my cheek before tenderly putting my helmet on my head and pulling the strap under my chin to make sure it sat snuggly.

“There we go. Looking like a proper racing driver now.” He smiled proudly. “Now let’s get driving.”

The thrill of crossing the finish line was amazing. When I finally came to a stop in the pit lane, I practically bounced out my seat and ran over to Max. He easily picked me up in a hug.

“You did so well. We should get you some training.”

“You’re just saying that. I know you went easy on me.”

“Well, I couldn’t let my girlfriend lose on her birthday. That’d make me the worst boyfriend ever.”  

We had our mini podium celebration with tiny plastic trophies. We bought cans of soda and sprayed it all over each other.  My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

I pulled him closer and kissed him with all the love I had.

“Thank you, Max. This was the best gift ever.”

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

/////////////////////////

“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Seven - Flowers, soft beneath my heels.

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy washes his mug in some warm, soapy water, humming to himself. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, soap on his arms. He doesn’t have much washing up - just a few pans that he soaked in water overnight to cut through the grease, so as he puts the mug on the drying rack he looks out of the window. It’s a beautiful day, the sun beaming down on the grass, with what appears to be a gentle breeze sweeping through the young nation. 

Jimmy finishes the washing up, drying off his hands before entering his bedroom. The bed’s unmade, and his boots and suit are laying discarded on the floor, but thats a problem for Future Jimmy, possibly even Afternoon Jimmy.

Jimmy quickly gets dressed, slamming the cod head on before he can catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Putting on his boots, he sits on his bed, breathing. Inspect the docks, ensure trade is going well. Mingle with citizens, give aid and hope to his people. That he can do, that he has to do. His duty is to his people, and he will not forsake them. No nightmares can stop him from this.

A soft knock barely reaches Jimmy’s ears, and he shoots up, quickly walking to the front door.

“Hello?” Jimmy says, opening the door. There’s no one outside, just the breeze. “Is anyone there?” Jimmy sighs, shaking his head. Kids will be kids, after all, and how many teens from other empires can claim to have ding dong ditched their ruler? Jimmy looks down, and his eyes widen.

A bouquet of roses lie on the ground, wrapped in blue tissue paper with a gold ribbon keeping them together. Jimmy carefully picks the flowers up, gently carrying them inside. A note is nestled in amongst the flowers, carefully folded with his name elegantly written on it.

Jimmy pulls a vase from his cupboard, an old one that his mother gave him when he told her that he would move out of the Prisma Palace one day. It’s got intricate star cuts in it, and a silver border around the lip of the face. Jimmy fills it with water, gently taking the roses out of their tissue paper and taking the note from the bouquet as he puts the roses into the vase.

They look nice, nicer than he thought they would. He’s never had anything to put in the vase before, and he puts them next to the azure bullet that Scott gave him, smiling to himself.

Jimmy carefully unfolds the note that was resting in the bouquet, blinking at the gold lettering. He reads over the note carefully, holding it close to his heart.

“Your admirer.” Jimmy breaths the words, holding the note close to him. “I didn’t know I could have one of those.”

Jimmy lays the note on his table, blushing. He needs to get to work, he needs to leave and rule the kingdom, to inspect the docks and watch trade routes coming and going.

But, for a peaceful, blissful moment, he’s a citizen. He’s a citizen who’s gotten a gift from someone who he could date without the risk of putting them in danger. He’s a normal person, not fated to rule a country that he founded, he’s a normal person who wouldn’t put his partner into danger just by dating them. For a blissful, peaceful moment, there is no demon. No enemies. 

And then the moment is shattered.

Jimmy steals a final look at the roses before he walks out the front door. He puts on the kingly attitude, giving large tips to street vendors and clapping as the people busking on the street finish their songs. Jimmy may be alone in the city in the romantic aspects, but he doesn’t need a romantic partner. Watching as his citizens laugh, as children ask him if he would like a piece of the cake their parents bought them, as friend groups race down the street, he knows he’s not alone. 

Jimmy reaches the docks, watching from a distance as repairs are made to one of the support pillars. He’s not really needed on the docks, but he has plausible deniability if any of his advisors come to the docks and find him here. Checking on trade and imports is an important job.

And skipping meetings is also an important job. Really, he’s helping everyone.

“Codfather, is that you?” 

“Hello Lord Fwip, how are the Grimlands?” Jimmy says, keeping himself very calm. He has to keep himself formal, the citizens can’t know that they’re enemies. He needs to be civil. “Apologies for not welcoming you last night.”

“There are no problems there, Codfather.” Fwip says. “And the Grimlands are doing well, but I’m afraid that I’m here on official business.”

“Is something the matter?” Jimmy asks, concerned. “Come with me to my office, how can I offer help?”

“It’s nothing too bad, we’re just in desperate need for slime.” Fwip admits, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I was hoping for a trade deal?” 

“That can be arranged.” Jimmy says, leading Fwip into his office. He sits down at his desk, gesturing to the seat opposite. Fwip sits down, looking slightly nervous. “Our empires may be enemies, but our citizens shouldn’t be subjected to harsher conditions over that.”

“I agree, it’s a bit feudalistic for us to forsake our citizens over an argument.” Fwip smiles at Jimmy. “I hate to ask this of you, but could I have a few stacks of slime right now? Some of our machines are breaking down, and I left in a panic without getting anything to trade with you.”

“That’s not a problem.” Jimmy says. “Take a few stacks, could I swing by the Grimlands tomorrow to finish the trade arrangement?”

“I’m busy tomorrow, family arrangements and all, but does Wednesday work?” Fwip rubs the back of his neck, laughing nervously.

“In two days?” Jimmy asks. “Works for me, enjoy your time with your siblings.”

“I will.” Fwip laughs, standing. “Thank you, Codfather. This was really needed.”

“It’s no problem.” Jimmy calls as the other man leaves. “Bye.”

But Fwip had already flown away, quickly making himself a dot in the sky. Jimmy leans back on his chair, slamming his hands down on his eyes. A meeting with anyone, let alone one of his enemies, is exhausting on a good day, but this isn’t a good day. He should have gotten one of his advisors to mediate, to take the stress off of him, to help him decide what would be a good deal. The nightmare hasn’t even left his head and this is why Lizzie tells him to avoid meetings like this after a nightmare - Lizzie makes Jowl go and explore caves or build when he’s has them, why didn’t Jimmy do something similar?

Jimmy looks out of the window, watching as the blue orchids sway in the breeze. He’ll take tomorrow off, he’ll do something nice for someone who isn’t his ally, for a change. Scott gave him the azure bullets, right? And the other ruler wouldn’t have orchids, all the way up in those mountains, it’s too cold for them to grow naturally.

Jimmy will bring him some orchids.

Maybe they’ll become allies. It would be nice to have an ally on the mainland, who wouldn’t betray him for the others.

Jimmy needs to apologise for leaving him at the ball, in any case. Maybe the Elven king will be more likely to accept his apology with a gift?

Jimmy walks into his house, looking at the bouquet of roses on his table. He should find who gave him them, should find out who his admirer is. But for now, the only flowers on his mind are some for Scott.

[tiens-letters]

upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past

zhongli (angst)

@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe

Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.

Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.

Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.

It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.

He felt exhausted. Desultory even.

Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.

Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.

The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.

You.

He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.

Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.

"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.

"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.

"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his

"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him

"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.

After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.

"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him

"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."

"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him

"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"

"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.

"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.

"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.

"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"

"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him

"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."

However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.

"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze

"Thats better."

He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.

Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.

Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.

He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.

Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening

" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.

"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of

" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."

"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white

You slapped him.

With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.

"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them

"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips

"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."

To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.

But of course, all things are evanescent.

The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.

"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.

He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.

Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."

To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.

Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.

He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.

The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.

The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.

It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.

"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant

"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."

Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe

[honesthammie]

From my prompt list:

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

Fandom:Doctor who

Pairing: 13 x gender neutral reader

This is my first fic on tumblr. I know its hella long and not all of my fics will be like this. This came to me from a dream I had recently. I love Jodie and I decided to write the spider episode from a different perspective. I may have change the episode slightly to fit the reader. I am thinking of doing a part 2 but it may be a while before I do as I have deadlines and stuff to keep up with. The next part may be more fluff between 13 and yourself. I know this didn't have much but it's something. I'm also sorry to any Americans reading this, I love yas but its just the personality I put to go with the readers personality. I'm also sorry for any spelling mistakes as I'm doing this on my phone.

Summary: spider episode with a small change I'm plot to accommodate your beautiful self in this fic

Warnings: slight description of a couple of panic/anxiety attacks, swearing and a bit of angst. Long intro for small fluff. And it's a part 1 do I guess a small cliffhanger is a warning?

Beep beep beep. Your alarm starts blaring in your ears, waking you up with a start. You glare at the interrupting machine before turning it off. After such a crazy night, you did not want your sleep so rudely interrupted. Why did you have a crazy night? It's your 18th birthday today and your friends decided to visit your place for a little house party, last night, to celebrate and now you have a pounding headache.

You groaned as you realised, you would need to take some pain meds before you even think about going back to sleep. Slipping out of your bed, you walk to the bathroom and find the cupboard with all sorts of medicinal and bathroom bits and bobs. You then grab the glass that you placed there in preparation for the definite hangover. The glass was a little cold to the touch but you filled it with some cool water from the sinks tap.

You took two, just so you could have a longer sleep. You waddle back into your bedroom and just as you get comfy, you widen your eyes at the memory. You needed to see your mother today, she said she had a gift for you but she would only be at home until 11. You looked at the machine that you hated for the time. It was currently 10:05. You jumped to your feet and rush to get ready.

As you walked outside, you saw the regular red strings that you saw everyday. Why do you see strings? You honestly didn't know, but you knew their purpose, it helped match 2 soulmates together. But something seemed a little off, there was no one on the street anymore, so why could you still see one line of destiny? You decided to follow the string south, down to your own (s/c) hand which was now slightly shaking at the sight.

"Fuck. Fuck,fucky fucking fuck. Why now? Why me? What the shit is going on with me?" You curse to yourself. You could feel your breath getting rapid and your head started spinning slightly. You quickly unlocked your car and sat down to help calm you down. You took a few deep breaths and focused on your senses.

When you eventually calmed down, you decided to look at where the string led. Oh, how you shouldn't have looked. It didn't go in any way of a compass, it went straight up and past the clouds. How? You had so many questions but you had to focus on the day ahead.

You had been to your mothers house and collected your new (fave game series) and your card. You were incredibly thankful as you have been saving up to buy it for yourself one day. You had played the previous games and loved every one of them and to say you were excited was an understatement. You almost ran back into your place if it wasn't for needing the key to access the gates.

Living in a gated community helped you feel a lot safer but it did also make you a big target for thieves to practise picking locks. No one had figured out where the hidden camera that kept alerting the authorities was though. Even you have tried put of plain curiosity but you got stumped after the 10th day of searching. You were sure you looked in every possible hiding spot, yet the camera always seemed to evade you in the pointless game of hide and seek.

As you unlocked the gate, you felt a twitch on your finger. The string was moving down and at a very fast pace, almost falling speed. You looked up and saw a small black dot heading towards the ground, if thats your soulmate, they would certainly be dead the second they meet their fate. When you could no longer see the dot, you kept your eyes glued to the string, waiting for it to disappear like everyone else's did when a soulmate died.

After five minutes, the string was still there and was still as red as ever, like no harm had come to them. But thats not possible. No creature could survive that especially from that great a height! You were beyond curious and quickly went into your living room and searched on all your social media for anyone else that may have spotted the dot in the sky, yet no one had but you knew (b/f) had another massive fight with their roommate, Stella, over whose turn it was to do the dishes again.

If you didn't know that Stella was in a relationship with another, you would have sworn those two were in a relationship. You giggled at the silly thought, "if Stella ever goes through a break up with her, I'm totally gonna set those two up."

You give up on finding anything out today, maybe it'll be on the news tomorrow and you set off to go on an online shopping spree, you had a few codes and now, thanks to your wonderful mother, had a little cash to spare and you did see that gorgeous top on sale. Once you had spent the day either shopping or gaming you decided to head to bed but you couldn't stop thinking about that dot and what the red string meant for you.

When your alarm had went off, you hit it and got dressed for your new job at some hot shot posh hotel run by an aspiring American with High expectations and little experience with Sheffield. You had been told you wouldn't get to meet him much and you were beyond fine with that, you hated Americans, simply because you hated violence and guns were the big no on your weaponry list of avoidance. You didn't mind weapons in video games, those were harmless to the outside world. You didn't mind verbal violence though, it was all you had to defend yourself with and in Sheffield, that was better than nothing. You were very short tempered when it came to your anger but you found that it was either verbal or physical, you chose to be verbal.

You looked at your phone for any messages from (b/f) and had a good luck message. You replied with a smiley face and a "ill need all the luck I can get. I've heard from a few employees that he can be a real asshole for no reason and fires people just because they made eye contact for too long. It's like he suspects someone is out for his blood."

After 2 minutes you received a reply from from them. "You better be on your best behaviour then, young lady!"

"That's the problem. I wonder what the record is for the quickest a person has got fired? Because I may break that, you know me! I don't exactly do as I'm told, that's why finding a job has been so hard. Anyway, I best get ready, gotta look the part! First impressions and all!" You replied with a nervous face. What you failed to notice was the red string no longer pointing towards the sky and you were making it shorter with every step you took. You did give up on finding out about the strange dot and came to the assumption that it fell in a lake, there were plenty of them around.

You walked into the swanky looking hotel and noticed the cobwebs that definitely were not there two days ago when you had your interview, yet they looked like they had been there for weeks. You would have put it down to Halloween decorations if it wasn't for the fact that it was June. You decided to not ask in case this was some sort of strange new American trend that your boss was following to help bring in the youth. It does help make it fit into Sheffield a lot more with the run down and abandoned look. It would need some rust, water damage, mold and cracks to finish the look but it was a start. If you had to be honest, the spider webs helped bring the place together. It was way too posh for Sheffield but you had to lie and say you love it in order to get hired. Just from that lie alone you knew exactly the personality of your boss, arrogant, vain and ignorant.

"Hello, you must be my new helper! I'm Najia, your second in command here. As you can see, there are loads of spider webs so they should be priority. If you could start cleaning in the south west second floor and continue that floor, that would be amazing. Now here's your cleaning trolley and if you happen to finish the floor early, send me a little message through the walkie talkie and I'll give you another room or floor. Do you have any questions?" Najia spoke softly. She seemed lovely and it was shame that she had to be in a place that would get more damage than its worth.

"Just one question: why so many spider webs?"

"I don't know, they just seemed to have appeared, I thought it was silly string from some teenagers that managed to break in somehow but it is actual spider web. It wasn't here when I left last night. I guess I'll have to ask someone about that."

And with that you separated and got to your floor when you finally noticed a slight burning sensation on your finger, it wasn't hurtful. It was like putting the finger in a really hot bath. You looked down and noticed it now pointed downhill and seemed to be glowing a shade of gold ever so gently that you would miss it if the weird sensation didn't make you look.

You left your trolley outside a toilet to make it seem like you were in there when really you had wondered off to follow the string. You would probably lose yourself in the maze of hallways that all looked the same as the last if the string didn't help lead you to a ballroom. You opened the door and instantly screamed. A giant spider was walking towards you, however you couldn't get out, you had used a staff door which needed a key card to use from this side as the other side still needed to be fitted and you left yours in the trolley, near the toilets. And the massive spider seemed to be blocking the other way out so you were trapped.

You weren't scared of spiders but seeing them at the size of a van did intimidate you. You started shaking from fear of what it would do to you. Out of pure instinct, you put your hand out to protect yourself and the sound of 8 legs against wooden flooring had ceased. The only sound was your laboured breathing. It stayed like this for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only 5 minutes. You opened your eyes slowly to see 8 more stare right back. 8 eyes that showed fear but no intention of harm. Instead the spider gave you space to breathe by walking back a few feet. Then it seemed to be watching you, studying your next move to see if you were a threat and whether or not it should kill you.

You stayed still for a moment, wrapping your head around what had just happened before gently walking towards the creature with both hands forward to show them clean of weapons. You decided to try and speak to the spider to see if it can understand you.

"Hello. I'm new around here, I'm sorry if I'm trespassing on your area, I wasn't aware of you being here to be honest. I mean you no harm, if anything, I want to help you but unfortunately, I'm stuck in here aswell." You spoke carefully as if it was a child that was afraid. You gently put your hand in its head and it seemed to understand your good intentions and your situation as it let you pet it. Now you were close, you started to admire it and realised it wasn't poisonous or venomous, it was just a regular house spider. But you couldn't figure out how or why it got this big but it did explain the cobwebs everywhere.

You had been with the spider for hours and it seemed like Najia either didn't care or has gotten fired as she hasn't asked about you. You had spent the time talking or singing to the spider. She, as you found out after looking it up, seemed to put her body around you to protect you. You had even met a couple of her children as they gave you food from the cafeteria to nibble on when your stomach growled.

Eventually the burning on your fingers turned up massively and was causing you pain. The spider seemed to sense this and wrapped her web around your finger to help cool it down a little. It didn't help but you showed gratitude anyway as she was only trying to help in anyway she could. You gave her a small smile and her eyes seemed to show sympathy in return.

Then the doors opened again and the sound of several feet walked in. "Oh thank god. I thought I was never going to be found in here." You thought to yourself as you heard the voices mumble to each other and probably about Betty and what's the best way to get rid of her. You would have paid more attention if your finger didn't feel like it had caught fire and was tight as if your soulmate was amongst those that had walked in.

Now you were nervous. How would you introduce yourself? What did they look like? Were they male or female, not that you really cared? So many questions made you feel lightheaded so you grabbed onto Betty to keep yourself planted.

Then the door opened again and a familiar voice echoed in the hall and you knew exactly how he'd want to deal with Betty and after your bond today, you would rather die than her. She was obviously innocent here and maybe the others could see it. Then you heard the familiar click of a gun safety being taken off and your body reacted before your mind did and you jumped in front of her to stop him, although you had a feeling it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot for the others to stop him.

"Don't you fucking dare shoot that gun Dickhead! Not without going through me!" You spoke with fire in your eyes and maybe a slight mix if fear aswell. That's when you looked over at the new group of people. They all seemed trustworthy enough.

There was Najia, who welcomed you here earlier and she looked sad, so she had definitely been fired. Then there was another woman who looked a lot like her, you guessed she was a daughter or something and she was pretty and definitely somone with authority with the way she stood and held herself, maybe she is a police officer? A man who looked as though he was in his 50s and definitely did not belong in this weird group. A young man who looked of a similar age to the police woman, maybe they are friends.

Then you laid your eyes on one of the most beautiful woman, no, human, you had ever seen and would probably never see again. She had short blonde hair in a bob. They seemed to be brunette at the root. She had beautiful chocolate honey eyes that glimmers with so much emotion and age well beyond her years, like she had experienced thousands of years before this moment. You also noticed her odd sense of style but you admired her boldness and it did look amazing on her. You decided she could only be described as sunshine and rainbows.

Then you noticed her hand And a familiar red string that was also glowing a beautiful subtle gold. Like millions of tiny golden stars circled around the string in a beautiful dance of love. Your eyes started to follow the string down and back to your own. She was your soulmate. That goddess that stood before you, was to be yours forever some day.

Then you looked into her hypnotic eyes before you remembered where you were and what situation you were in. And you realised everyone was staring at you for your previous action towards a spider.

"If you want to keep your job, I'd suggest you move out of the way silly girl!" Your boss grumbled in a threatening tone.

"Nope. You are about to hurt an innocent creature that is stuck and terrified. You built on top of landfill and didn't bother to check and thought of no consequences. This is your fault. Is this how you would treat a child that was a mistake after a one night stand or something? Would you shoot a child that had no choice?" You spoke with confidence yet more nerves now she was there listening to every word. When he didn't answer you shouted "Answer me! Would you shoot your mistake of a child?"

He glared at you. "This is different. This is an animal. A pest. It needs to be killed so more can't be born! I made my mistake and now I'm fixing it!" He bellowed just seconds before a shot was made from his gun. You had expected pain but instead you heard a horrible shriek from behind you.

You quickly turned around and petted her whilst whispering sweet words as she took her last breath. You stood up and made your way over to the murderer. You couldn't stand him and you were so tempted to take his gun and shoot him with it, but you didn't. With fire in your eyes and pure hatred, you slapped him hard enough to leave a mark and maybe a bruise as a reminder of his shitty choices. "You can't fire me because I fucking quit you arrogant dick! She had caused no harm to you or I and I'm sure if you would have sorted it sooner, so many more lives could have been saved as she only had humans because flies didn't fill her anymore! She was so kind and just so afraid. I hope you lose everything you pathetic sad sack of boiled shit! You are truest one of the lowest excuses for a human I have ever met and if we meet again please be very afraid, because next time, it won't just be a slap you have to worry about! It'll be your balls as I cut them off beacuse men like you shouldn't repopulate the planet! You horrid scum! I hope your empire fucking collapses!" You spoke with venom lacing every word. You were seething and boy did his face look punchable. Instead you walked away with your middle finger proudly being the last thing he sees as you walk out the normal doors.

Once you were outside, you sat in the steps and finally let out all the emotions. You cried so hard, over your loss of yet another job and a newly found friend. You screamed at him with a string of curses that would offend just about anybody. You suddenly felt somone sit at the side of you. You knew who it was when the string was burning more than ever before and yet you couldn't feel it over the pain your heart.

"You did brilliant back there. You chose, not just your job, but your life over a creature you barely even knew! If you wouldn't have jumped in when you did, I don't think her children would've had a chance to escape to my TARDIS because he's going on a hunt right now for the rest of them. Sure, you didn't save her but you saved so many more lives than you think. And I know each one is eternally grateful for what you did. I know I would be." Her words were certain and sympathetic. They seemed to calm you down instantly. Or maybe is was the way she talked that helped with her soft but strong voice and you knew you already couldn't get enough like it was the best drug ever. You could listen to her all day and yet, she had said very little to you. It was a strange effect but you liked it.

She fell into a silence for a while just keeping you company as you came to terms with had happened.

[insidetheacademy]

Say You Love Me || v

pairings: peter parker x reader (both are 18+!)

summary: y/n settles down in paris and met a new friend! also peter has a surprise

warnings: wet dREAAAMS

gif credits: tomholandd

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

-

the flight to Paris was okay except for a baby that was crying super loud. jeez, babies shouldnt be allow to travel you thought to yourself. after you had arrived, you went straight to this beautiful cottage that was apparently the company’s property. you said goodbye and thank you to the taxi driver and took a good look at the house infront of you. this is it, you’re gonna have to spend your time in this house for God knows how long.

you dragged your suitcase in and set it aside. you explored the interior of the house before going to the backyard. it was beautiful. there was a visible river and someone who used to lived here definitely took a good care of it since theres flowers and everything that you had seen in a fairytale. you werent gonna lie, you do feel like you’re a pauper. you took out your phone and captured the photo to upload to your Instagram. you captioned it “la vie en rose”, cliché but you had planned about taking photos and making your captions in french since you got on the airplane.

you head inside to take out all of your paintings essential. you felt inspired just by looking at the view there. you took one of the chair from the garden and sit down and started painting on your easel. you startled when you felt someone tapped your shoulder, you turned around and saw a tall pale man. he looks like he’s from around here.

“hey! y/n right?” he asked smiling wide, you took out your earphone “yeah? and who are you?” you asked confusingly, “Jules? we’re supposed to be working together?” he said trying to refresh your brain but you were still confused. “did they not tell you about me?” Jules asked, you shook your head and said a small sorry. you must have slipped over the email when they said that. you feel so stupid right now,

Jules explained everything and apparently he’s your new roommate. he was supposed to help you do a big painting for Claude Monet. you invited him inside to make a cup of tea for the both of you. “so, where are you from, Jules?” you cusped your teacup, “I live 30 minutes away from here. they wanted me to be here all the time to complete the painting as fast as possible and I couldnt say no,” Jules said.

after an hour and a half of talking with Jules, you really feel right at home with him. you two just met but you really feel a connection between him. you also found out that during his free time, he’s a guitarist and does gigs here and there to make extra pocket money. he said he’s in a band thats called “The Rejects Club” you laughed hard when he told you that because it sounded so high school-ish. but in his defence, he did say that the band formed when they were still in high school.

it was close to dinnertime, you didnt want to eat as you already eat a croissant that you quickly grabbed from the airport but Jules insisted to make cook for the both of you, you couldnt say no when his voice sounded so velvety and is like a warm cup of coffee with marshmallows on top. you were sitting on the couch with the both of your legs on top of the coffee table scrolling through instagram when Peter replied to your story, “how’s Paris so far?” he asked, “it was tiring but tomorrow’s gonna be more tiring,” you said.

whatever Jules was cooking definitely made your stomach growl with anticipation. you werent hungry but whatever he was making definitely made you hungry. you stood up from the couch to look at what Jules was cooking and it was pasta. to be accurate; an aglio olio. it smelled so delicious. you wanted to help so you took out the plates from the cupboard and set it down on the table.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“you know I love you right?” Peter said his lips nearing yours, you looked into his eyes and nodded. the kissed turned into a passionate and fiery kiss. he had your body against the wall, he was cusping your jaw with his left hand and the other underneath your shirt, you let out a moan and he squeezed tits.

“jump,” he said through the kiss and you obeyed not wanting to destroy the moment that you were having, he sets you down on the silk bed and continues to take of your clothes, he kissed from your collarbones to the place that you needed him the most, “y/n!” someone said, but you were so lost you thought it was Peter that was calling you but the familiar new voice kept coming closer and closer as you woke up.

you woke up with sweat forming on your forehead and your alarm ringing so goddamn loud, “jesus, are you okay?” Jules asked, “what time is it?” you looked around frantically trying to look for the clock, “its 10:30am! we were supposed to leave the house 15 minutes ago, y/n!” your eyes went wide and picked a floral strap dress and a cream coloured turtleneck. you went to the shower without having second thoughts.

you put your clothes on and quickly grabbed your shoes along with a pair of socks and your handbag. you locked the door and ran to Jules’ car. you were breathing heavily as you strapped your seatbelt on. “I can’t believe we’re late!” you said flabbergastedly, “yeah, I know! what time did you even go to bed?” Jules was clearly annoyed. seems like he’s the type of person to arrive right on time.

“I slept right after we had dinner! I don’t know why I couldn’t hear the alarm. God, I feel so stupid” You put your socks on and your shoes. You took out your lipstick and put them on. “Who is Peter, anyway?” Jules asked absentmindedly, you looked at him trying to find out how he knew that name and in hopes that he’s just fucking around but he’s not.

you closed your compact mirror, “he’s a friend of mine,” “a friend, huh?” Jules scoffed, “I didn’t know a friend moans another friend name in their sleep,” your face flushed with red as he said those words. “what the hell, Jules?! I could’ve went days without knowing that you heard me having wet dreams about my friend!” you cover your face in shame. you couldnt believe that he had hear you moaning Peter’s name

“Oh my gosh, I feel like I could just bury myself right here,” you said, “Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone,” Jules said taking your hands into his, giving you a warm smile.

you two had arrived at this building that was filled with paintings but not by those famous painters just paintings by painters that were starting out. “Ah darlings!” you heard a middle aged woman walking towards you with both of her hands wide open, obviously ready to hug the both of us to death.

“you must be Ms y/n!” she cupped your face and kissed your cheeks, what a weird way to greet somebody but thats how it is, “and you must be Jules!” she took a step back and took a good look of you and Jules’ faces. she introduced herself as Mrs. Autry. she walked the both of you around the office and explained about how everything works.

“I am so excited for the two of you to work with us,” she smiles warmly, “let me know if you need anything sweethearts!” she bid her goodbye and went to another direction. you and Jules walked to the nearest café and sat down there. you ordered a frappacino whilst Jules ordered a latte.

every now and then you somehow were reminded of how you dreamed of Peter. not only dreamed of him but in such an inappropriate way. you don’t like him anymore, you just don’t know why he’s haunting you this badly. should you stop being friends with him? it feels so awkward now that you dreamed of him banging you. “so what should we do?” Jules voice brought you back down to earth, you stuttered trying to come up with something.

he could tell by the look in your eyes that theres something wrong, “you know you can tell me anything right, y/n?” Jules said, he’s definitely good in reading someone’s body language. “i wont judge, y/n,” he reassures you, you took a deep breath and let everything out.

everytime you talked he would listen, he’s there for you, always looking into your eyes to keep the conversation going, you also mentioned about how Peter was a dick when he found out you were coming here, Jules said “what a dick, do you want me to punch him if he ever comes here?” Jules offered you then laughed at his attempt trying to make you feel better.

you both went home and went straight to each other’s room because you were so tired. you didnt realised how much walking there was gonna be today. you took out your phone and saw MJ messaged you, “hey!!! I have great news! I’m coming to Paris next month!” you smiled to yourself, woah, did MJ missed you that much already?

you typed back “I know you miss me but you don’t have to, you know?” “Haha, very funny, y/l/n,” you chuckled and asked her “why are you coming here?” a three dots appeared and her response was “I just wanted to go there and experienced a real trip. not like when we get to go there and it was cancelled,” you still remember when the school trip cancelled going to Paris because apparently they got “upgraded” to go to Prague.

you smiled when you remembered thats how you found out Peter was Spider-man. “well, you’re going to love Paris,” you replied to MJ. you also gave her your current home address in Paris so she can visit you! she thought it was a lovely idea.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

“can’t you please to do this for me, MJ?” Peter begged MJ, basically down on his knees. “fine! but if everything went wrong do not blame me!” MJ gave in. Peter was planning to meet you in Paris but he wants it to be a surprise. something you’re going to remember till you’re dead.

Peter have missed you so much and he swore he could go crazy if he couldn’t see your face for another month. Peter was so excited that you gave a thumbs up and that you even gave MJ your address in Paris. he wonders to himself what could go wrong?

“there, I’ve done it, now can you please leave?” MJ crosses her arms, pissed that Peter hadwoken her up in the middle of the night because he couldnt keep it in his pants about his “love” for you. atleast thats what MJ teased him about. he never quite really admit it but MJ could see it and told him that he’s not fooling anybody with those goo goo eyes.

“thank you, MJ. i’ll find a way to repay you. i promise.” Peter said while crouching on her window, “you better, Parker, or you wont see the light of day ever again.” MJ threatens jokingly at Peter. he laughs and there he goes, he shot his webs to another building.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

a/n: hi sorry i know this is short and boring but i have so much on my plate right now but to make it up, I’ll try to post the next chapter tonight or tomorrow! again so SORRY its boring skdjsks but please do leave your thoughts!

say you love me taglist:

@imawkwardandhereweare @canyonmoonspidey @thebadassbitchqueen @thequeenreaders @averyfosterthoughts @a--1--1--3

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

do you have a curtis fic with the tenderly wiping the blood off? because if not can i request one? but if you don’t have could i have it with chris or ari? or curtis is fine but you know my love for ari haha sorry i’m just rambling now😂💕

Trust Me

A/N- I really liked how this one came out, so it gets a title. No real warnings. Thanks for sending this in babes! I did Ari cause well, I havent yet written for him and I know you love him. Thank You @official-and-unstable-satan for reading over what I had last night and giving it a thumbs up. Love you babes. 

Red Sea Diving Resort, 70 kilometers from Port Sudan

You paced by the radio, it was silent. So silent, you just wished it would cackle and Sammy would come over in that garbled sound all radios make, letting them know they were successful, on there way back to the resort. But nothing. Occasionally Ethans voice would break through, making you jump in anticipation each time. He would ask for an answer, but there was nothing. Rachael hugged herself as she waited, nearby, ready to answer when needed.

“They will be okay Y/N, its not like Ari hasnt had them go radio silence before.”

You knew your friend was trying to assure you, but it was hard when your heart was wedged in your throat, waiting to bottom out. Here you and Sammy were similar, sometimes you thought the worst although you hoped for the best. How many times had Ari, cupped your face and made you look at him.

“Trust me Y/N” he would say.

Okay Ari, Im trusting you...

Then there was the cackle, and Sammys voice broke through. “On our way back, successful.” Both you and Rachael took relieved sighs and she answered right away. “Loud and Clear guys, see you soon.” You rubbed your face in relief and she came over to give you a squeeze around the shoulders. “Told you, its all gonna be good.”

Ari drove the truck with its ruined shocks, bouncing all over the road. It had been touch and go, but they managed to get the latest round of refugees out to safety in record time, and at the rate they were going, in just another week, they could be making this trip again.

“Can you slow it down?” Sammy asked, bouncing in his own seat, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle on the side. “Were not carrying refuges anymore if they stop us.”

Ari eased up. Barely, he was ready to get back to the resort, take some pain killers, crash for a couple good hours before going back to making more plans, and playing host to there current round of resort guests.

“I also wish you would let me look at where you cracked your head. Seriously Ari, only you man.”

Reaching up, he winced where his head clipped off the side of the trucks frame helping people climb out the back. It was a rushed moment, since Jake warned them that he saw headlights off in the distance, and they still had a truck full of people to get on the rafts. It wasnt his finest moment, but they got the job done and were able to hide the trucks off the beach. Once the armed men, no doubt some of Ahmed’s men, passed on by, they split out of there. Driving by moonlight till the beach was far off in the rear view. They got lucky, again.

Ari always seemed to get lucky, Sammy would sarcastically comment at times.

“Dont worry Sammy, Im fine. I will have Y/N take a look at it before we go to sleep.” Ari remarked, and his friend rolled his eyes and sighed in discouragement with his stubbornness. Ari continued on excitedly though. “It went pretty good I thought, considering they were patrolling. Everyone out, no one got injured. If we plan it right, we can go out next week, as long as Kabede can get them out of camp.”

Sammy wrinkled his brow, worry etching over his face. “You dont think thats pushing it a bit close? Ahmed is already suspicious as it is”

Ari smirked and looked over at Sam “Trust Me.”

Hours later the two trucks pulled up alongside of the resort, you and Rachael waiting just outside the main entrance to greet them back, also to find out about  why radio silence. Your hands wrung together and you blew out some hot air in a huff that fluffed your bangs. Rachael chuckled softly at your nerves and leaned in close to whisper to you. “See, its all good.” You smiled at her, an apology for your nerves, and went to greet the men.

Jake and Max came around, from one of the trucks with big grins on there faces.

“Like a charm Doll” Max said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His good mood was infectious and you relaxed in his hold, your arm slinging around his waist with affection.

“So the radio silence was just for...?” You asked and from behind you, you heard Ari came up on your other side, carrying some of Sammys equipment, startling you. As big as Ari was, he was quiet. A skill he had picked up over the years of military training.

“There were patrols out, not far from us. We went entirely dark for a time while unloading, and had to hide the trucks.” You reached to take some of what he was carrying and caught sight of his face, near his temple was a line of dried blood, leading up to a nasty looking scrapped bruise.

Rachael caught sight of it to, wincing as she reached out to take the stuff from Ari. “Here, let me take that, and you should have Sam take a look at that.” Max collected what you had to, offering to help. Ari started to protest the two of them, when you gave him a gentle push to get him headed into the hotel.

“Shes right, come on.” you insisted, and he didnt fight you. Cutting through the lobby, the two of you skirted around the counter that was the check in, and headed into the employees only section. In the back rooms, Ari leaned lightly against the table watching you as you searched out the first aide kit. “Tomorrow Im going to go into the refuge camp, see if  Kabede is ready to bring the next group out, I know its soon, but if they can have to rescue boat back here by beginning of next week, we could start doing this alot faster.”

Ari continued on with what he was hoping for, and tidbits from tonight, while you sought through the bottom cupboard, and finally found the bright red cross case that was your first aide kit. Bringing it over to the table, and flipping it open, your ‘Mmhm’ sounding once in a while to show you were still listening, he reached over to grasp your wrist. “Y/N, whats wrong sweetheart?”

You glance at him while prepping a cloth to wipe away the blood and around the wound. “Ari... It sounds like it was a close call. If you all get caught, lets be real about this. They wont just throw you in some jail cell if your caught with truckloads of refugees.” You didnt mention the last part, the very first day you all arrived, there was an execution style killing going on right outside the window as he was negotiating just to get this place. That was a year and a half ago.

“What are you saying Y/N? You want us to stop? Were saving so many lives.”

Guilt crossed your face as you heard him, it was true. So far you all have managed to smuggle out hundreds of people, slowly emptying the refugee camps. But even in that there wasnt a end in sight. They would just keep coming, desperate and barely hanging onto the promise of freedom and safety.

“I know... I know... “ You say softly while he pulled out a chair and sat down on it so you could clean him up, thighs spreading so you could stand in close where you need to be, and tip his face slightly. “Just hearing how close they were tonight, you going radio silence. It scared me Ari. There is nothing we could do to save you guys.”

His hands moved to the back of your thighs, rubbing your tensed muscles through your pants and grasped lightly under the cheeks while you gently wiped at his cheek, the dried blood flaking off and making your way up the trail. “We have to be smart about this Ari, know when weve played our hand as much as we can without getting ourselves caught.”

Quiet for a time while you dabbed at his face softly, he finally spoke up. “Trust me Y/N, I know it. No one was more worried then I was that we were gonna be found. I drove like a fucking bat outta hell to put distance between us. I cant stop though, not right now... I wont. This works, what were doing works.”

And this was always how it was with Ari, forever will he put everyone else before himself. You knew this the day you agreed to join them on this mission, and to ask him to change? You knew he wouldnt give this up. Not for Sam, not for you, not for the family he left behind ages ago. It was a bitter pill to swallow at times, but at the same time, isnt that why you cared for him more then you should have, His selflessness?

So you set it aside for now, your fingers gentle as the trace over his bearded jawline to tilt his face further, and now careful clean up the actual cut. Its not as bad as it looked, and you change the subject. “How did this happen anyways?”

��Smashed it upside the back end helping people down. I was pulling myself up and clipped it.” Ari rolled his eyes at himself and you chuckled softly hearing it, brushing your fingers through his hair out of his eyes.

“Well fuck Ari, I apparently cant even leave you in the capable hands of Sammy to keep you out of trouble.” You tossed the cloth in the nearby sink now that he was cleaned up, and dabbed just a light amount of ointment on it to keep it clean. When you finished by rubbing your hands together quickly to clear away the rest of the ointment, he tightened his grip on your thighs and pulled one leg up, then the other to straddle him, wrapping one arm around your waist so you could brace back lightly against his arm.

“Not like you could keep me out of it either, dont worry Honey, we got this. We will stop when it gets to be to dangerous.” Your fingers brushed through his hair once more, giving it the lightest teasing tug before wrapping your arms around his neck, and giving him an doubtful smile. You knew it was a lie, he wouldnt. But right now this was another problem, another day, another worry for another time.  

Wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck and dragging you forward, his lips connecting with yours and the wild taste of sea salt, hints of nicotine, and something just him drew out a soft moan from you, a tip of the head and he was able to draw you in deeper till you were leaning in against his chest, and with a light bite, he drew away, his long fingers lightly pressing in against the back of your neck.

“Ive got you, trust me.”

You didnt want to, but deep down, you always did. 

tagging-  @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict @patzammit

[sophisticatedloserchick]

Fanfic - 3 Times Iris Tried (and failed) To Make Pancakes - 1/1

Summary: Three times Iris has tried (and failed) to make Barry pancakes through out their lives from childhood to married life. 

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2322

A/N: Inspired from episode 6x17 where Barry made it clear Iris was never (and never will be) good at making pancakes XD

1. When they were kids

The first month Barry stayed at the West home he barely ate a thing.

After his mom died, and his dad went to prison, Barry felt like his body went into shock. His appetite disappeared and he lost track if he ate at every meal time. The breakfasts and dinners Joe prepared went half eaten as Barry spent most of his time pushing around the food on his plate as we waited till he could be excused from the table. He'd keep his head down the entire time as he could feel Joe's concerned eyes staring him down. 

Which is why he felt a sense of relief one Sunday morning that Joe had gone into work early. Barry didn't want to deal with the disapproving eyes and lectures about needing to take better care of himself.

On this particular Sunday morning he planned to lie in bed for as long as he could. Nothing motivating him to get up and do anything. But instead of lying in bed alone with his thoughts he heard the sounds, that he assumed came from Iris, of pots and pans clashing and loud pop music blasting. Curious and a little concerned he headed downstairs wondering what he'd find.

What he ended up walking into was a kitchen in complete disarray. Piles of dirty dishes were in the sink. The floor covered in patches of white flour. A stick brown substance covered all the counters and cupboards. Thin grey smoke curled in the air and the smell of burnt charcoal made Barry's eyes water.

And there right in the middle of it all his best friend danced to Janet Jackson songs while flipping pancakes onto a plate.

“Barry!” She exclaimed when she spotted him. “Finally you're up. I thought I'd have to drag you out of bed.”

Barry went red at the idea of his best friend, and not so secret crush, coming into his bedroom while he still laid in bed. The one downside to this new arrangement is having your crush right down the hall where she could pop in on you at anytime.

“What are you doing?” Barry asked trying to deflect his embarrassment. His green eyes took in the streaks of flour across her face and the dried batter splattered across her apron making her just as much of a mess as the kitchen.

“Making pancakes duh,” Iris rolled her dark brown eyes playfully at him. “They're your favourite right? I know you haven't had any in a long time so I wanted to make you some.”

Barry stood there with his mouth gaped open at her remembering. The thought that Iris went to the trouble to make him pancakes surprised him but also made a prickling warmth spread through his body. He couldn't remember feeling this kind of happiness since his mom died.

“Go set the table and I'll get our plates ready,” Iris ordered as she went back to flipping the pancakes not at all concerned about the clouds of grey smoke coming off the pan.

Barry obediently followed orders though the idea of actually eating her pancakes filled him with dread. His best friend had many talents, but none of them included her abilities in the kitchen.

Five minutes later Iris came into the dinning room with two plates of pancakes. A proud smile spread across her face as she deposited the plate in front of Barry. The dread he felt increased ten fold as he got an actual look at the pancakes. They were misshapen to a shape Barry didn't think a name for it existed, their colour was a shade a pancake should never be, and he swore he saw lumps in them.

Any sane person would of pushed that plate away and refused to eat. But then Barry took one look at Iris to see her practically vibrating with excitement, her brown eyes shinning as she looked at him, and knew he couldn't say no.

“Mine probably aren't as good as your mom's,” Iris said almost looking a little bashful, “But I promise to keep trying to get better at it because I know you love them.”

The thought of his best friend putting in all that effort to make him happy gave him the motivation to finish the whole plate.

Even if he did regret it later when he got a stomach ache.

2. When they were dating

Barry woke up to the loud beeping of the fire alarm going off in his apartment.

In his half asleep state he struggled to throw the bed covers off his body. He immediately noticed Iris wasn't sleeping in the bed beside him and his heart dropped to his stomach. He already had a hunch as to what set off the fire alarm.

Barry ran straight towards the kitchen where clouds of grey smoke were already spilling out from. As he entered the room his eyes immediately took in two things. One, Iris standing away from the stove with a spatula in hand but otherwise unharmed. Two, the cast iron pan on the stove currently had orange flames shooting out of it. 

Acting on instinct Barry grabbed a lid to cover the pan to smother out the flames, next he turned off the burner, then grabbed a towel to move the pan into the sink. All of this occurred in a span of ten seconds but for Barry it felt much longer.

After he felt satisfied the lid had snuffed out the fire Barry turned his attention to a sheepish looking Iris.

“Good morning baby,” Iris said in her sweetest voice, the one she knew made Barry melt. “Did you have a good sleep?”

Barry gave her a withering look before taking in the rest of the kitchen. He noticed the tell tale signs of what Iris tried to make with the flour covering the counter, and spilled milk and broken egg shells.

“Iris,” Barry sighed as he looked back at her, “Were you trying to make pancakes? Alone?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Iris folded her arms across her chest looking adorably put out. “You always make me breakfast in bed since we started dating. I didn't want to be a bad girlfriend who didn't return the favour.”

Thats because I can make pancakes without burning the kitchen down, Barry thought to himself but didn't dare speak it out loud.

Cooking remained a touchy subject with Iris. After years of failures, and food poisonings, and kitchen fires, she still remained convinced if she just kept trying then magically one day she'd become a great cook.

Barry having been her test subject for many years had his doubts her lack of cooking talents could be turned around. Now as her boyfriend of three months Barry struggled to dance around the subject. Luckily Iris kept incredibly busy with her job at the paper and helping Team Flash that her go to in the kitchen involved ordering take-out. She also tended to sleep in late on the weekends which meant Barry typically got up first and did all the cooking. He'd hope to avoid the situation of Iris cooking for him for as long as possible.

“You're not a bad girlfriend,” Barry rushed to reassured her. “Besides you know I love making you breakfast.”

Iris nodded at his words but Barry could tell by the look on her face she wasn't convinced.

Without the threat of his kitchen burning down Barry could now take a better look at her. Heat curling in his stomach when he noticed the she only had on his oversized CCPD grey shirt. The hemline barely hitting the top of her thighs giving him a clear look at her shapely legs. Her petite body swimming in the excess material of the large shirt. After a few months of dating He still felt a quiet possessive thrill when she wore his clothes, and he'd happily give her his entire wardrobe if he could.

Barry moved towards her like a moth drawn to a flame. His arms wrapping around her smaller frame and pulling her in close. He buried his face in the soft skin of her neck breathing in the sweet scent of her soap. He could feel her relaxing in his arms as her body melted against his.

“Listen let me clean up and then I'll make your favourite chocolate chip pancakes,” Barry kissed the exposed skin of her neck earning a soft giggle from her. “And you can make our coffees.”

“Okay,” Iris sighed under Barry's attentions as she pressed closer to him. “But I swear Bar one day I'll make you the best pancakes.”

Barry knew Iris meant that as a sweet promise but to him it came off a little bit like a threat.

3. When they were married  

In a flash of red lighting Barry returned to his home.

He'd been out all night and early morning dealing with on meta-human after another. He hated being away from his family especially on the weekends when he ideally wanted to hang up Flash duties to be with them. But as the protector of the city he had to answer the call if needed.

He pulled off his cowl and headed towards the kitchen. He planned to cook Iris and Nora a huge breakfast of their favourite chocolate chip pancakes, waffles with whip cream and bacon and eggs, to make up for him being gone. His plans quickly changed as he headed towards the kitchen he heard voices talking.

Slowing his steps and walking quieter Barry peered around the corner of the kitchen to see his wife and daughter. Both were still in their pyjamas and their hair piled messily on tops of their heads. Nora stood on top of a chair in order to be tall enough to reach the counter. Iris whisked a batter in a large bowl while Nora poured over the open cookbook.

Warmth spread through him watching his two girls. It was almost enough to distract him the sense of dread he felt to see Iris getting ready to cook.

“Mama is it suppose to be that lumpy?” Nora went up on her tip toes and looked into the bowl with a face scrunched up in distaste.

“Lumps are not that big of a deal,” Iris said even while she continued to furiously whisk the batter, “They'll dissolve eventually...I think.”

“Daddy's pancakes don't have lumps,” Nora pointed out in a kind of bluntness only a child could have.

“Nora,” Iris gave her a mock stern look, “What did we say about comparing my pancakes to daddy's?”

“Not to do it,” Nora mumbled as her shoulders slumped.

“Good girl,” Iris patted on her head before going back to whisking.

She continued to struggle for another five minutes before Barry decided he needed to intervene for everyone's best interest.

“There's my two best girls,” Barry proclaimed loudly as he walked into the kitchen.

Both Iris and Nora looked at him with matching wide eyed looks that quickly dissolved into elation.

“Daa-adddy!” Nora scrambled down from the chair and ran over to him. Barry bent down and easily scooped her up into his arms and cuddle her close to his chest. Nora threw her small around his shoulders in a hug.

“What are you two making?” Barry asked casually as he tried to hide the concern on his face when looking at the batter in the bowl Iris had been whisking. He noticed the lumps right off and the thickness of it concerned him too.

“Mama is trying to make pancakes,” Nora whispered loudly to him. “But I don't think its going so well.”

“Alright you two I get it,” Iris scowled at the both of them. “You both will be eating bananas for a week if you're not careful.”

Barry and Nora both knowing Iris never made an idle threat schooled their expressions to not give themselves away.

“Nora why don't you go set the table,” Barry put his daughter back on the ground, “Your Mama and I will finish the pancakes.”

After Nora scampered off Barry turned his full attention to his wife who looked less than pleased.

“Why can't I get this?” Iris sigh in frustration. “Its pancakes, not rocket science!”

“Iris come on don't be upset,” Iris wrapped his arms around his wife's waist to pull her in close. “You're talented at so many things. You're an accomplished journalist, you got the most deadly punch in the family, you win every game of spades and pictionary we play.”

“Keep going,” Iris's elbow nudged into his side. “What else am I good at?”

“You're also the most amazing mother and wife in the world,” Barry bent to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “Not to mention smart, funny, and absolutely stunning. You're basically perfect but everyone needs to have one or two flaws. Yours just happens to be cooking.”

“Okay, okay I get it,” Iris laughed and to Barry's pleasure snuggled in closer to him. “You can stop laying it on so thick smooth talker.”

“I speak nothing but truth,” Barry said while he tilted his head to steal a kiss from her.

As they parted from the kiss Barry could see Iris didn’t look upset anymore but instead he saw mischief in her dark brown eyes. 

“Well I guess lucky for me my husband is excellent at cooking,” Iris gave him a coy smile as she pushed the bowl of batter towards him. “Hope you can make this work honey, I'm going to go make myself coffee.”

Barry stared down at the lumpy mess Iris left him and figured he'd have better luck beating a army of meat-humans blind folded with one hand tied behind his back then make good pancakes out of it. But he would do anything for his wife so he'd definitely planned to try.

[harrypotterwholock]

Nothing to hide

Summary:

Imagine Sherlock finding out about your eating disorder and comforting you.

~Trigger warning for eating disorders, self harm and implied sexual abuse~

She stuck her sore fingers down her throat as she heard a loud bang at the end of the corridor. Sherlock must’ve come off of his heroine trip earlier than she had anticipated. Quickly she flushed the toilet and washed out her mouth with mouth wash to cover up the smell of vomit. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she noticed that her eyes were bloodshot from the violent vomiting. They looked huge in her face, her cheekbones sticking out, just like the other bones of her body. An hour earlier she had fallen back into old behaviors, bingeing on all of the food she found in their cupboards. It took a good half an hour to rid herself of the junk she had ingested and her knuckles were red and raw. Outside of the bathroom door Sherlock went into the kitchen, probably to make himself a cuppa tea. Anxiously she took a last glance at her reflection in the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Sherlock, dear, are you up already? I thought you’d be knocked out until tomorrow noon at least." She said, watching him sit in his armchair with his eyes closed. "Yes darling, I estimated that as well, but it seems like Wiggins has made a fault during the production process." he answered. As he said this, he snapped open his eyes and scanned her over, leaning back in his chair. "I’m going to need some time to settle, sweetheart. Why don’t you go out with a couple of your girl friends?" "Oh, thats a lovely idea Sherlock, but I’m having a bit of a migraine today. I think I’m gonna go to my room and read a bit. Get some rest, darling"

Sherlock didn’t answer as he was already in his own world, fingers propped up against his chin. Hurriedly, in an attempt to flee this encounter as fast as possible, she retreated into my room and let herself fall onto her bed. The silken sheets, printed with flowers, were soft against her skin and gave her a piece of comfort in her woeful state of mind. Curling up under the covers, she looked up at the water stained ceiling and began to cry silently. Didn’t he notice the amount of distress she was in? It was very unlikely that a genius like him wasn’t able to deduce what had happened from her physical symptoms. In this moment, she felt more alone than she had in the last ten years, ever since she befriended John and Sherlock, who freed her out of her miserable world.

For years she had been abused by her boyfriend, being hit, kicked, yelled at and forced to have sex with him. On a particularly bad occasion, neighbors had heard her screams and called the police. The officers came accompanied by Sherlock and John, who had offered her to come to their apartment, as she had no family she could have turned to. At first, Sherlock wasn’t too keen on having his routines disrupted by an intruder and, because of this, decided to ignore her completely. However, as she and John got to know each other and Sherlock eavesdropped on their conversations, he got interested in her and got jealous. It was just the second time he had shown interest in any woman who wasn’t his mother, the first being Irene Adler. Her appeal to him laid in her intelligence and expertise, as she was a well known mathematician. Since then, she had helped him with a few of his cases, calculating probabilities and running simulations for him.

She thought back at all the things, he and John had done for her to help her build a new and stable life and immediately felt guilty for falling back into her harmful behaviors. She hadn’t made herself throw up or cut herself for almost two years and never in the presence of John or Sherlock. Anxiously, she thought about the consequences she would get into if Sherlock found out about her ill behaviors. She pressed her fingernails into her skin until it bled to alleviate some of the emotional pressure.

* * *

Sherlock on the other hand sat in the living room and reviewed all of the things he noticed about Evelyn in his mind palace. What had he noticed about her? Unfortunately his mind was still mildly foggy from the drugs he had indulged in the night before. Surely there had been something off about her behavior. Normally, she would complain about his drug habit and would urge him to pursue a drug withdrawal. Today however, she had been urgently trying to get away from him, to withdraw herself from his deductive gaze.

He remembered some physical abnormalities about her: Her eyes were red and her salivary glands swollen. Sherlock reprimanded himself for not looking at her more closely, but he had still been in a state of dream. "Well, I will have to get a look at her then." he thought. "Evy, would you like to order something for lunch today? How about Chinese?" he called after her.

She didn’t answer him. Now suspicious, he wandered off towards her door and cracked the door open just enough to be able to get a look at her bed. Evelyn was curled up in a fetal position under the covers, her chest rising and falling heavily. The sight made Sherlocks heart ache and twist. Hesitantly, he opened the door completely and approached his girlfriend. "Evy, are you all right? What’s going on?" He asked worriedly. Startled she turned around to face him, wiping her face, so as to not let him see her weakness. "Sure, Sherl, everything’s ok. I’ve just got a bad headache, that’s all." He watched her closely and sat down next to her on the bed, brushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "Do you want anything? I wanted to ask you if you fancy a cuppa tea or some Chinese for lunch?" A panicky expression flashed over her face, but she regained her composure back almost immediately. Of course Sherlock had observed her reaction. "No thanks, dear. I’m feeling a bit nauseous today." "Should I stay with you for a bit and comfort you?" he asked, taking her hand from under the blanket. He shot a glance at her hand, to confirm his deductions. "When were you planning to tell me about your relapse?" Wide-eyed she looked at him. "What do you mean with „relapsed“? I’m just having a bad day!" She told him sharply. He gripped her hand and turned it upwards "Do you really think I’d miss these signs? I’m not an imbecile, so don’t lie to me! You have the Russells signs, and your salivary glands are swollen. To me, the situation is clear. So why don’t you speak it out yourself?" "I don’t want to speak it out. I haven’t done it in years, so technically I’m recovered" "You call this recovered?" He snarled. "You should accept that you have a problem!" "I should admit that I have a problem? Why don’t you start to work on your drug addiction first? MY addiction certainly isn’t as harmful as yours!" Sherlocks gaze turned soft and he leaned forward. His voice turned to a soft whisper. "Is it not? You’ve gotten smaller and smaller over the last weeks and if you plan to throw up the rest of the little food you’re eating, you’re going to starve to death. And believe me, I myself have eaten little food during my drug sprees."

Evelyn began to cry silently, her shoulders rising and falling fast. She hiccuped as she tried to stifle a sob. Sherlock lifted up the blanket and crawled into the bed next to her. Carefully he wrapped his arms around her and drew her head into his chest. Trying to calm her, he rocked her back and forth.

"Shhh, it’s going to be okay, sweetheart, you needn’t worry about any of it. I love you, no matter what. In my eyes, you're beautiful just the way you are. I primarily love you for your intelligence and your vast personality, not for your looks or body. It tortures me to see you unhappy about something so unimportant" Lovestruck, he trailed the lines of her lips and her cheekbones with his fingers. He drew her closer to him and moved his hands on her back in circles. "I know it’s silly, it’s just that my family has always let me think I was never good enough for them. I always thought I could only be loved if I satisfied their expectations." "Don’t ever think you aren’t good enough for me. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. If it wasn’t for you, I think I would have already turned towards criminality, to distract myself from the mundane world" He kissed her softly and ran his fingers through her auburn hair. Peacefully they laid together until the sun set and they both fell into a quiet slumber.

[sidetongue]

he’s just a hunk a hunk of burnin’ love

[thecozywhaleshark]

Date and Nut

A/n: If you clicked on this because you think it’s smut... I’M. TALKING. ABOUT. BREAD. DATE AND NUT BREAD. You smutty smutty dirty minded people. geesh. Go bathe yourselves in holy water. Or better yet, go to the parts of the masterlist labeled ‘m’. This is soft Jin hours only.  

Word Count: 1171

Summary: You attempt to make Date and Nut bread for the Christmas holiday season, using Jin as your taste tester

“WALNUTS” you yell, reading off the page of the blue binder your mom had given you last Christmas, filled with all the family recipes. 

“WALNUTS!” Jin yells, reaching into the cupboard and throwing them to you. You catch them midair, placing them onto the counter. 

“DATES!” You call, turning towards your boyfriend and opening up your hands. 

“DATES!” he yells back, tossing them over his shoulder. 

You squeal as it almost goes over your head, but you catch it just in time, putting it down next to the walnuts.  

“BAKING SODA!” 

“BAKING SODA!” Jin grabs the canister and slams it down on the countertop. “NEXT!” 

“HOLD!” You yell, holding your hand out to stop your boyfriend from rifling in the cupboard. “We have an instruction.” 

“What is the instruction?” Jin comes over and looks over your shoulder. 

“We have to cut the dates and then put them in boiling water with the baking soda. Then let it stand.” 

“So then we need a knife.” Jin heads towards the sink and grabs two knives. 

“And boiling water,” you fill the kettle and set it on the stove, making sure the heat is turned up to the max before returning to the counter.

“One for you,” Jin hands one of the knives to you nicely, leaning forward to receive his thank you kiss, in which you happily oblige. 

“Thank you.” 

You both begin to cut the dates into small pieces while the kettle begins to boil, finishing just as it begins to shriek. 

Grabbing it, you pour it into a bowl while Jin adds the baking soda, waiting for it to dissolve before you begin to add in handfuls of your dates. 

“I think-” you look over at your recipe and read. “I think thats all we have to do date-wise.” 

“Then what?” 

Jin comes over and looks at the recipe. “We need sugar.”

You nod. “And eggs.” 

“Here you measure the sugar. I’ve got the eggs.” Jin switches ingredients with you, making you laugh.  “Oh do you think you can crack eggs better than I can?” You laugh watching as he pulls out a new bowl and prepares a stance. 

“Watch, and be inspired.” He winks at you, lifting both arms up, one egg in each hand. 

“I’m waiting,” you smirk folding your arms over your chest. 

“1...2...3...BOOM.” He brings down his hands at the same time to hit the rim of the bowl, cracking both of them in with one hand. 

You clap slowly, you smile growing. “Impressive. I feel so inspired.” 

He bows dramatically, throwing his egg shells into the trash. “What can I tell you? I’m a master at cracking eggs.” 

You look into the bowl with your cup of sugar ready to be poured and giggle at the sight before you. “Hey ‘Master of Cracking Eggs,’ you’ve left some eggshells.” 

“What?! No I didn’t.” He looks down at the bowl, tilting his head.  “Oh yeah?! Then what's that!” You point to the single floating bit in the whites, snickering. 

“It’s called texture, baby.” Jin smirks, leaning against the countertop. 

“Mhm, sure it is.” You roll your eyes playfully as you fish out the piece with your finger and rinse it off in the sink as you boyfriend adds the sugar for you. 

“Salt and vanilla,” you read, grabbing the ingredients and measuring appropriately. 

“Ooh, I love vanilla,” Jin takes the vial from you and lifts it to his nose, inhaling deeply. 

“Everyone does,” you giggle, snatching it back. “Tates bad raw though.” 

Jin grimaces, “Don’t remind me.” 

You grin wider, flashing back to the time Jin once ate something sour and thought vanilla would clear the taste from his mouth and had taken a swig of it, only to throw up all over the floor. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a swig before I put it away?” You tease, shaking it in your hand. 

He shakes his head vigorously. “I’m sure.” 

“A shame.” You giggle, reaching for the walnuts and grabbing the container of flour. “Here, measure these.” You dump the ingredients onto the counter and reach for the dates, adding them to the egg and sugar mixture. 

“Bossy, bossy,” he scoffs mockingly, picking up the measuring cups and adding the nuts and flour to the bowl you were currently mixing together. 

“What’s next?” 

“Beat 2 egg whites until stiff peaks form,” Jin reads, following the text with his finger. “Fold into the mixture.” 

You nod, finishing mixing in the flour. “Do you want to do that oh ‘Master of Cracking Eggs’ or should I?” 

“I believe you just answered that yourself.” Jin grabs the egg carton and a new bowl before beginning to separate the eggs from the yolks. “These will be the best peaked egg whites you’ve ever seen.” 

He pulls out a mixer and begins to whip them together as you grease the baking pan and flour it to make sure the baked bread won’t stick after it comes out of the oven. 

“Stiff peaks!” Jin crows happily and you look over, nodding in approval. 

“Niceeeee, now add it.” You point to the bowl and Jin sticks his tongue out at you. 

“In my own time.” 

“Well the oven is already heated up, so get to it.” You stick your tongue out right back and he ducks his head to hide his smile. 

“This is nerve-racking,” Jin complains as he pours the whites into the batter and begins to fold gently. “What happens if I mess up?” 

“Then the bread is flat and I’ll break up with you.” 

“You lie.” 

“Am I?” 

Jin looks over at you and you only just manage to keep your face straight, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He points the batter-covered spatula at you. “I know you’re lying, but just in case...”

He finishes mixing in the egg whites and hands the bowl to you. “You can pour.” 

You roll your eyes and laugh, holding it over the pan. “Hold the pan so I don’t spill okay?” 

He gets down at eye level with it and clamps on with both hands. “Pour like our relationship is on the line.” 

You laugh. “Oh god, the pressure.” 

“You can do it, you can do it, don’t mess up, don’t mess up-” 

“THE PRESSURE.”

You manage to pour in the batter and not spill a single drop, leading to a high five and a hug from your boyfriend after you put it in the oven. 

“Our relationship is safe!” He cheers, pulling you in for a dramatic kiss. 

“Well, at least for the next 40-45 minutes.” You laugh, “We’ll see what happens after we turn the bread out.” 

“Ah, well, then I guess we better use the time appropriately,” your boyfriend smirks, turning you and lifting you up to place you on the counter. 

“Oh?” You wrap your arms around his neck as he settles himself between your legs. 

“Well,” He says, kissing you once again. “As you said, we might only have 45 minutes... and I plan to spend them wisely.”