#where the guy bursts in with light-up shoes like 'i got new shoes'

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 6

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 6.2k words

Warnings: Violence, Cursing

A/N: GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. But it is finally here. After this we only have one more chapter, so y'all I'm just so emotional. Thank you all for your patience and all the love you have shared. I'm so grateful. Special shoutout to @hoodeddreams13 for letting me chat them up to discuss this chapter because I was STRESSED. Anyway, sending all my love to you guys. Enjoy! - Mo

Alfie had convinced himself that he was doomed to hell for all of his evil deeds in life. The lying. The bloodshed. The rage. But perhaps he had done something good in this life. Maybe God finally took pity on Alfie Solomons. Perhaps the Angel Gabriel had put in a good word for him. He must have, because there was no other reason that he got to have the blessing of you nestled in his lap, face buried in his neck, small hand tangled in his unruly beard. He had dreamed of this forever, and now it was finally true. He never thought that he would get to have this. Warmth. Love. Safety. "Alfie? Darling where is your mind at?"

He felt your lips at his neck, and sighed, "Nowhere sweet. Just enjoying your company."

"Hmm… Alfie, I wish every moment could be just like this. I don't want to be anywhere else but here in your arms."

He shifted beneath you, to bring your face to his. Nose to nose, breathing in one breath. "My sweet girl, whatever you wish, you shall have yeah? You can stay here, right next to me. And we'll never leave this spot."

"We'll grow old here in your chair. I on your lap. Till the ages go by. And the vines and trees grow around us. And all of Camden will fall away and here we will be together."

"Exactly right my pet. Exactly right."

As if the Somme had suddenly emerged, Satan's army came hurtling through Alfie's door, with Sabini at the helm. The gun fire lit up the room, and all Alfie could hear was your screams of agony. In his arms you were no longer there. The silken white dressing gown he had just been caressing was stained crimson, and the color in your face had turned to ash. Alfie, who has never been lost for words, who has always had something on the tip of his tongue, had nothing come from his mouth but horrified screams. He kept shaking your shoulders, hoping to God that you would wake up, but your limp limbs gave nothing to life. He screamed and screamed your name, until his lungs gave way.

In a sudden jerk, Alfie sat up in his freezing room, his bare chest covered in sweat. The room was bathed in a light blue from the bright moon outside his window. He was alone, save Cyril on the floor by his bed. The house was quiet, and he was alone. You weren't there. Your lifeless body wasn't there. It wasn't real. None of it was real. The fear that took over his body from the dream shouldn't be so potent anymore. He'd had the same dream every night for the past week. And every night he woke up with his heart coming out of his throat and tears streaming down his face. And every night he would stop by the house you were put up in, patrolling around it with the man stationed there, ensuring that every door was locked.

The plan Tommy and Alfie had concocted had become a bloody mess across the city. Tommy’s men had marked every business and alcove the Sabini’s even had minimal connection to. One by one, they were blown up, burnt to the very foundation. Alfie’s boys had been performing psychological warfare as well. The major Sabini players had been followed by phantoms, never being truly alone, until they were slaughtered in their beds, door frames set ablaze. Everyone in Camden was talking about the horrific curse that befell the Sabinis. How it would soon overtake all of them. The city was simmering, about to burst through and explode. Though the Shelby and Solomons boys were making headway, Alfie couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

This war was killing him. The business was killing him. He felt it. And you were seeing it. He was drinking more. Eating less. Even when you tried to touch his cheek, to remind him of the moment you two shared and the fact that you were still here and alive, he huffed and moved away from your caress. Your touch brought back the visions of his nightmares and the smoldering tailor shop. It was killing him. It was killing you.

Alfie had created a moat around you, keeping you at a distance and protecting you from him. You had been relegated to simply his secretary. No more. No less. No longer his confidant. No longer his support. No longer the sweetness or the warmth to his day. And while you knew that he was doing this out of fear and out of wanting to protect you, you couldn't help the feelings of rejection from rising in your stomach. You couldn't shake off the feeling that he saw you as a child. As a small ceramic doll that needed to be shielded and held in a box. He didn't look at the sketches you had drawn up for the club. He wasn't even letting you in on the meetings anymore. It was no longer just hurting you. It was now irritating.

On a cold and wet morning, you had enough. This could not stand. You were more than just a desk girl! You were not a girl who needed to be shielded damnit! During an hour you knew there was not going to be any meetings or meddlings, you knew you had your time. You pulled your sweater tighter around you, and pushed in to Alfie's office. "Alfie, we need to talk."

Alfie didn't even look up from his desk and the accounts he was checking, "Not now Ms. Abraham, I am currently checking your math. Tomorrow yeah?"

You pulled the chair out to sit, "No Alfie we need to speak right now."

His broad shoulders slacked down like weathered masts of a ship, and the breath released from his lungs was low and slow. His eyes pressed together as he scrubbed his face. Looking out the window of his office, rubbing his unkempt beard, "What could possibly need discussing now? You already finished all the work I gave you. And there are no more meetings. You can go home."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the room freezing but your neck hot, "That's exactly it Alfie. You are treating me like a simple secretary."

"You are a secretary love."

"Let me rephrase for you. You are treating me like an idiot. An idiot secretary. You're treating me like a child."

Alfie just stared at you, eyes smoldering like kindling in the stove. He stayed silent, lips tight, you couldn't even tell if he was breathing. If you didn't know him you would think that he was going to fire you. But this was just Alfie. He was thinking. Plotting his next move in this eternal game of chess. Maybe if you were a more ruthless and emotionless player you would have kept you mouth shut. But who cares about winning a chess game when your heart is being chipped at slowly and painfully.

"Alfie, You shut me out. If... if what happened in the jewelery shop was a mistake -"

"It wasn't a mistake."

You paused, staring into his eyes, but he merely nodded at you to continue. "Alright. Well... if it wasn't a mistake. Why are you shutting me out? Why aren't you... letting me be your secretary like I have been all this time. Who does this benefit Alfie? Because you look even worse every day and... well Alfie I feel alone. I feel alone Alfie. I'm scared. I don't know what is going on. I feel lost. And you aren't sharing with me what I need to know. Do you think i can't do this job anymore?"

Alfie stood up, going to the window, looking out at the rain tapping the window and stones below. Though you were screaming inside for a response, you knew this movement. He was thinking, calculating. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to you in this moment. He turned to you, then walked to the door of his office, "Tea?"

It was so odd watching him make his and your tea. Frankly, you didn't even know that he had remembered how you took your tea. It was perfect. Though it was the perfect cup, and the atmosphere should have made a comfortable and relaxing time, your brow was still furrowed, confused as to what Alfie was playing at. He was drinking his own tea, staring at you in between the breaks of his scribbling in the notebook.

After what seems like hours, he finally paused, "Alright treacle. Let's talk business."

"Business?"

"Yes my dove, because what we have here yeah, is quite a bit of a conundrum so to speak."

He took a long drag of his tea before setting it back down and beginning again, "Now...treacle. Like I said yeah? We have a great conundrum. Because you... my viper... have performed a feat like none other. You yeah, have become two people at the same time."

"What are you talking about?"

“Just listen alright? Now, not only are you a damn good secretary… a very damn good secretary; but you are also someone I have grown rather… fond of.”

"Just fond?"

"Actually a third thing too, a pain in my ass. Damn woman I am trying to talk to you! Shit! Listen! I... may... feel quite fond of you. And in this business.. it is very dangerous to have people who you are fond of. Much more dangerous to have people know about your fondness for others. Now... do you understand what I'm saying treacle?"

Eyes wide, playing with the loose string on your sweater you nod and Alfie grunts in assent. "So you see my dove, I am very very fond of you. In fact it makes me absolutely sick. But... I don't want my fondness for you, to affect your safety. You understand? So that is why I have been... more reclusive."

Alfie watched you nod, your eyes wandering to the corner of the office where some spiders had begun building the foundation of their new home. He watched the quirk of your lips, and waited. You weren't about to agree. "Well... Alfie... what if you weren't the only one who was deeply fond of someone? Hmm? What then?"

"Well that would be a problem right? Because that would be a mutual deep fondness and it would be highly innappropriate."

"Why?"

"Because you are a good girl and I am a bad man."

"I don't care."

"Well you should."

"I don't."

"Well fuck treacle it is entirely out of the fucking question. It doesn't matter who is fond of who it does not matter. What matters right? What really matters, is that I keep you safe, and you get to walk out of this office and find someone your age and who is not damned to the fucking gates of hell!"

"I don't care! I don't fucking care! Because even if you are damned to hell, I have been living in one! You think you keeping me in a box will keep me safe and make me happy? I'm alone! I'm scared! And the one person in this whole fucking world who makes me feel safe is keeping me at a distance!"

Tap

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The large drops of soft rain trickle down the steamed up window panes like tears from God. And soft blue light of the covered sun illuminates the storm brewing behind Alfie's eyes and the gale force winds sighing from his lungs. These past few weeks you have felt like one of those palm trees you saw in a painting in your childhood books. Swaying in the wind of Alfie's hurricane. You were in the eye of it. You were the eye. The small bit of calm in the center of the madness. But one move to the left or right would put you in the throws of it, threatening destruction and death. Yet it was suffocating in the center. No where to move. All the oxygen being sucked out.

"Alfie... don't keep me away. I can't stand it."

Alfie never took his eyes off you. In his stomach he felt as if rocks had taken up residence. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do. He loved you. He loved you and he couldn't say anything about it. He couldn't for a million and one reasons and yet it was cutting him up inside to hold in this declaration. He loved you more than anything in this world, and he would absolutely evaporate if anything happened to you. And that is why he couldn't love you. That is why he couldn't say anything. But God did he want to take your tears. To hold you in his chest, to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be ok. That he would kill every person who even looked at your house or you. That he could do it. That he could change the tides if it meant you were happy. If he could have you... you would never want for anything again.

But that's not what is best for you is it?

With a grunt Alfie stands up, motioning for the door as the clock struck 2, "Come on darling... let's get you home. "

Alfie's heart cracked into two pieces when he saw that first rivulet fall down your cheek. Silent tears that never ended all the way home. He thanked God that you let him walk you up to the door, but was not shocked when you walked in without another word. As Alfie turned back around to head back to the car, your father stopped him, "Mr. Solomons... won't you come in for something warm?"

Alfie had this house furnished and ready for the family in the wake of the fire. But your family brought another level of color and warmth that could never be bought, and it brought back memories of his mother so vividly in his mind. It was warm and rich, and the tea provided by your father was strong and invigorating, much like him. Alfie hadn't noticed how much Esther favored your father. The crease in the brow was carbon copy, and Alfie had to supress a smile on his lips when he made the realization. After the formalities often afforded to business associates, your father spoke, "Mr. Solomons... I will be candid... I know that my daughter works as your secretary. And I know that Eli works in your shops."

Alfie slowly blinked. Nothing could be said, and he had prepped already for this exact scenario millions of times.

Leaning back, letting his hands rest on his stomach, your father continued with a sigh, "And...man to man... I know that my daughter not only loves her job... but also Mr. Solomons... loves you. And I suspect, that you have loved her and do now. Yes?"

This was not something Alfie had prepared for.

"Please do not deny Mr. Solomons. Though you are a gangster you are a man and I have seen many a man fall over their feet for my eldest but you," pointing his finger at Alfie, "you have done more than trip over feet. You love her. Do you deny it?"

"No Mr. Abraham. I don't."

"You want to ask me for her hand in marriage?"

"Fuck me."

"Please Mr. Solomons, Mrs. Abraham will have a fit if she hears that talk. What do you want with my daughter? She will not be made a fool."

Alfie waved his hands in the air, trying to clear out the fog in his mind, "No Mr. Abraham I- yes. Yes Mr. Abraham, I love your daughter very much. More than I should. More than I deserve. If I were a better man I would... I would have married her weeks ago. Proper marriage. Proper ceremony. Or whatever she wanted it doesn't matter to me. She... she's the best moment of my day and the worst is when she leaves. She gives me a headache every time she argues with me but makes me feel better than I have since I was boy right? But I can't love her proper. I can't give her the life she deserves Mr. Abraham because of the nonsense that I bring. Mr. Abraham I'm man enough to say that I don't deserve her. But I'll protect her and your family until a better man comes along."

Your father hummed, looking into Alfie's eyes, as if reading all the other words that Alfie couldn't say. "You know... Mr. Kahn... he told me when I was a young man... that it is often the people who are most deserving of love who think that they don't deserve it. It is the most bravest people who think they are not brave. And the best people who think they could be better. And I wonder... Mr. Solomons... if you have forgotten that love is not a token something to be earned, but rather a gift which is freely given. It's there whether we think we deserve it or not."

Your father put a finger up to Alfie, and tip toed to the cabinet to pull out a clandestine box of cigarettes and match. Handing one to Alfie he says, "Mrs. Abraham has been trying to get me to quit for 30 years and I can't shake it. Indulge with me won't you?"

Alfie greedily sucked in the smoke, as if sharing a secret with a classmate. After a few moments puffing in silence, your father spoke up again, "My daughter is very stubborn as I'm sure you know. My wife and I know she loves you but she cannot say it to herself. She's never been good with admitting a vulnerability like that. But she will. But she won't if you keep pushing her away Mr. Solomons. And I'm sure the last thing you want is for her to be far from you yes?"

Alfie nodded in assent, reeling from this conversation. Your father's large cheeks raised in a smile, nearly concealing his eyes, "Good then. Now Mr. Solomons. regarding your shirts, Eli will be by your house at 8pm with a pack. And I’ve taken the liberty of adding a more secure button and stitch pattern.”

As he turned away he added, “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for Mr. Solomons. Don’t let fear get in the way of life. We’ll all be ok.”

Alfie nodded once again, placing his fingertips on the ornate mezuzah on the doorframe. Feeling a strange peace wash over him as he touched his fingers to his lips. On the drive back to the office and the drive back home, he thinks about what your father said, the way he was welcomed into the home and table. Maybe this could work. Maybe… maybe this war could end. And he could keep you safe. And he could make you happy. Maybe… maybe it will work.

The next day when you came to work, Alfie was already in, talking to Ollie and Ishmael, maps and ledgers all over the place. The fire in the stove by your desk had already been lit and brought to vibrant life. A small bouquet of lavender and baby's breath was at bright attention in a chipped cup on the desk, right next to a blueberry scone and a little note reading 'Can't do this without you' in large and jagged neat script. "Ah treacle! Shalom. Ollie, Ishmael that will be all, get to it yeah? I want proof of death by this evening. Treacle come in please?"

You walked in tentatively, nodding and saying good morning to Ollie and Ishmael as they left. As you take you seat, Alfie is pouring out your tea and putting out the cigar he had been nursing all morning. "Here you go love, drink that down. Listen... I've been doing some thinking... and as much as it stabs me in my cold rotten heart... I do believe you are right, and I'm in the wrong."

Your tea must have been poisoned, because you spluttered at Alfie's admittance, "Alfie? Are you not well? Are you dying?"

Alfie rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled out, "No I'm not dying you vile woman! I'm apologizing! Wipe your mouth darling you'll drip on your nice dress. Like that by the way, is that new? Anyway treacle. I have been keeping you away from things. I am fond of you I worry about keeping you safe and away from the mess. I know you ain't a child, but I can't help but feel rather responsible for you. Especially now that your family knows that you're working for me."

"He told you?"

"Yeah, yeah he did treacle. Real shit espionage on your part dear, you will not be given any jobs that require being discreet love I'm sorry, but frankly you cannot lie worth a damn."

Your nostrils flared at the dig at you, but you couldn't help the smile at the corner of your lip due its' truth. Alfie continued on, "This war love, it ain't nothing new to me. And it is necessary for both me and the Shelbys. The Sabinis are right rats and I'm quite sick of their activities. If I am too... rough in my handling of you I am sorry, I do want you in this, and I can't do it without you. But I need you safe. Understand?"

Your eyes bore into his, and he was teetering on the thin line of relief and vomiting due to his new found vulnerability. "So you won't send me home early anymore? We'll go back to business as usual?"

"Yeah... If you'll have me."

You bit your lip, trying to hide your happiness and relief, "I think that is amendable to me."

You shook hands, and shivered slightly at the renewed contact that you had secretly craved for weeks. With a quick release of breath and a final firm squeeze of your hand, Alfie released reluctantly, "Beautiful. Get your little notebook and get comfortable love. We have a lot of business to attend to."

Did you ever. You had mistakenly thought that though Alfie had been sending you home, he was handling everything swimmingly. However, Alfie was actually about to collapse under the amount of plates he was spinning. You reorganized his calendar. Argued at length about the numbers and the accounts until they were perfectly balanced. You reviewed the designs for the gaming club, now named Crown and Horse, and chastised Alfie for failing to choose the wallpaper despite opening night coming in three weeks. More had been accomplished in a single day than had been done in the past week, and you both were abuzz. Alfie could not deny the fact that he had felt better than he had in weeks having you back in his atmosphere. He felt lighter. He laughed easier even if it was at his own expense. Looking at the way your eyes danced along the pages and listening to the ringing of your voice as you hollered and laughed brought him more bliss than any rum or draught that could be cooked up.

As the weeks went by, more and more Sabini strongholds and hiding spots were blown to pieces. More and more Sabini men and soldiers were driven mad by the dark spectors haunting their steps, until they were quietly taken in the night. You were aware of it all, through the whispers in the street and the information Alfie shared with you. The tailor shop was nearly finished, but business was booming more than it had in years. Whether it was due to people feeling sorry for the fire or due to peoples new found respect in the family's tie to Solomons, you couldn't tell. But your father looked more settled than he had in ages, and that was enough for you.

Opening night of the gaming club was to be a grand affair. The Shelby boys had opted to hire a band to play, and gaming tables were to be pushed to the sides to keep room open for dancing. Despite protestation from you, snow would be available along with good drink, anything to keep the crowd raucous and loose lipped. “The only difference between high brow and low brow people treacle, is how willing they are to get their good clothes dirtied up.”

Alfie had asked to escort you to opening night, you tried to decline, as you had nothing quite so suitable for an event. But Alfie scoffed, suddenly producing a wine red evening dress, with nearly black beads dotting the dress, catching the light to look like the night sky. Of course, you scolded him harshly, it was not in the budget you had set for the opening. Alfie smirked, touching the gold locket,that he refused to take back, on your neck, “There’s always room in the budget. I’ll pick you up in the car. 7. Make sure that locket stays on yeah?”

The last ‘date’ you had been on was a abject disaster. You were 17, and your date reeked of cigarette smoke and paint thinner. He took you to the pictures, where he proceeded to kiss a girl who sat next to him on the other side. To add insult to injury, Eli sat behind you to see the entire thing, and swiftly began to punch the living daylights out of your date. Eli did win, but did sport a black eye for a good while, and teased you about him for years to come.

Not that this was a date! This was not a date! This was merely a business event. A business event with your very handsome boss in a dress that he bought that just happened to be the perfect fit.

Or so you argued with Eli as he teased you from your doorway watching you pin your hair up. “Uh-huh of course. So do you think that Alfie will propose to you tonight? Or is the little locket the sign you’re using for your betrothal?”

“Get out! God don’t you have anything better to do?!”

“Mmm no Im off today. Watching you put more effort into your appearance then you ever have in your life is amusing to me.”

You spun around, “I look terrible don’t I? I look ridiculous! Oh damnit that’s it when Alfie comes you will have to tell him I caught a pox or something!”

Eli threw his head back hollering in laughing, throwing himself on your bed, “Oh my gosh!! Dear heart you don’t look ridiculous!!! You look nice!! Like a regular star! I’m only teasing you. Please please you must go. I don’t think a pox lie would keep Alfie from pushing his way into the house to get to you anyway.”

Watching him from the mirror you said, “You don’t think so?”

“Alfie? No nothing. And I don’t think it’d keep you from seeing him either. Am I wrong?”

Your head fell on the desk, “Eli… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know if… I’m allowed to feel… the way I do.”

“Well you have to say it in order to know if it’s right.”

You turned to face him, “Eli,.. I feel… home. I feel like I’m right where I need to be when I’m with him. And I want to be next to him all the time. I don’t like not being near him. It feels like… I’m missing my favorite book. I’m still me if I’m not with him. But I’m always searching for him.”

With a soft smile Eli responds, “and why wouldn’t you be allowed to feel like that?”

“Because… well… I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. He has enough to deal with.”

Eli looked around the room, waving his hands, “Well… he did all this… and had only asked that you don’t quit. So… not that I don’t think you’re smart… but I don’t think you’ve really thought it through… it seems… like you’re looking for a reason to not love him so that you don’t feel vulnerable… am I wrong?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb, a persistent habit you've tried to kill for years, you mumble out, "I hate it when you do that."

Eli merely smirks, mirth glittering in his eyes, "What is a brother for if not to see you past your walls? Now!" Eli stands grandly, as if finishing a fabulous routine for a crowd, "It's nearly seven mouse. Finish up so Mr. Solomons isn't kept hostage by Esther for too long."

You waived him away giggling as the memory of Esther attempting to put fake rouge on Alfie glimmers in your mind. Eli was right. He usually is, as infuriating as it is. While you had lulled yourself to sleep with fantasies of loving Alfie fully and replayed the moment in the jewelry shop every quiet moment you had and felt Alfie's breath on your neck with every whisper of the wind... you never allowed yourself to truly imagine and consider love. Never allowed yourself the pleasure of the thought of him loving you. But.

If he does.

If Eli is right.

If Alfie Solomons loves you.

And you love Alfie Solomons.

Who is to say that you can't be together.

What is to keep you apart?

What is to make love unsafe?

Your reverie and final touches are interrupted by sweet Esther bounding in joyfully, "He's here!! Mr. Alfie is here!"

She pauses at your seat on the vanity, mouth agape, teddy dragging on the floor from where it hung from her grasp, "Wow... you look like a princess..."

You laughed out, gathering Esther in your arms to carry her downstairs, "Well thank you my sweet girl. But surely not as beautiful as you."

She sqeauled and giggled as your pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks, dark red lipstick smudged on. Alfie's eyes were drawn away from Eli's story to land squarely on you and Esther. It was as if everything melted away. You were always beautiful. Always. Not a single moment was different. But in this moment you were otherworldly. Your beauty was only enhanced and amplified with the fine clothes and extra time put into your makeup and hair. The smile you had on your face was radiant and true. The love in your heart shone out adding a glow around you. Alfie wanted to live in that glow forever. Eli stopped talking and smiled at you as he watched Alfie walk towards you like a man in a trance. When you finally set Esther down, you turned in a circle, letting Alfie get a full view, "Is this ok Alfie? You don't think it's too much?'

Alfie shook his head, motioning for you to spin again, "It's absolutely perfect. You look like a right star. Every man will want to dance with you sweet."

You chuckled, "Well they'll be disappointed won't they? I only dance for one man."

For the first time in his life, Alfie felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He had never been flustered before. Silently, he grabbed your hand and pressed a whiskered kiss to your knuckles before leading you out. You waved by to Eli and Esther, excited for the evenings festivities.

You were shocked that the floor hadn't broken underneath you. It was packed. It was alive. It was proving a success. The band John Shelby had booked was relatively new but had shown the crowd the best time they would ever have. The dance floor was vibrant with sequined and bejewled bodies. Gaming tables were sending men to the grave and to Olympus in equal measure. Drinks were flowing like a river, and no one was exempt from its effects. When the Shelby boys whisked Alfie away for drinks and business, you were quickly adopted by Esme, Ada, and Polly. And though you knew that the Shelby - Solomons relationship was at some moments rocky, you felt immediate connection with the women, and knew in your heart that a friendship with them would be more than just business. Your face was hot and your body was buzzing from the energy in the room. You and Ada became fast friends, dancing and twirling like silly girls in the playground. Soon enough you collapsed into barstools laughing and whispering about the scenes surrounding you. But soon enough, your conversation with Ada was cut short by a warm and calloused hand on your shoulder. Looking up you see Alfie's glowing eyes and flushed cheeks. Ada smiled and slipped away as Alfie leaned in to your ear whispering, "Dance for me?"

You nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled from your seat to the center of the dance floor. You felt weightless as you were sucked into Alfie's embrace. A slower number was being played by the band, and though you were surrounded by couples, you would never have known. All you could sense was Alfie around you. In any normal circumstances you would have scolded Alfie for holding you so possesively in a public setting, it was improper. But you couldn't care. How could you, when your body was wrapped in Alfie's strong arms, your fingers raking through his hair, and his beard scratching against your cheek. How could you care when you were living in heaven.

"Are you having a good time my sweet girl?" Alfie husked in your ear.

You smile, bringing his nose to yours to whisper against his face, "Yes, now that you're here. Only one thing could make it better Alfie."

"What's that?"

You force your eyes to meet his storming ones, letting your hand run through his beard, "A kiss."

Alfie's large hand slides to the back of your head, making a mess of the pins holding your hair. His face came to yours, kissing you fiercely, and all the months of waiting, debating, and worrying finally melted away. You let your hands rush into his hair, mussing it as you have longed to do for nights and nights and nights. Sweet and tender and hungry and longing, Alfie's lips against your own was the only thing you could understand in that moment. It was the only thing you could comprehend. Pulling away, Alfie huffed out, "Fuck..."

You laughed at his toussled visage, "Is that all it takes to make you silent Mr. Solomons?"

His eyes grew dark, and you suddenly felt a thrill in your stomach, "Careful treacle might just have to do that again."

Alfie was reaching for you again when a commotion began at the bar.

On top of the crowded bar was Sabini, with a gun pointed directly at you. You could see Tommy pushing people out of the way telling them to get out, trying to get to Alfie. John and Arthur and other Peaky boys were fighting men off, trying to pull down Sabini

"SOLOMONS! You think this is how business is done?" Sabini howled from his place on the bar. "You think you can do this to me? You think this is how you kill a Sabini? You think I'll let a bitch destroy this business? I'll kill you all!"

Bang. Bang.

You fall to the ground. The smell of smoke and iron filled the air. You felt warm liquid on your body, and the sound of people screaming and running fill your ears.

But no pain. No fading and no light coming towards you. A heavy weight is on you groaning out your name. It takes a few moments to understand what was on you.

Alfie.

Your body suddenly awakens. Sabini was on the ground, pale and being carried out by his men leaving a trail dark blood in his wake. Alfie had pushed you to the ground to take the shot meant for you, covering your body with his in his fall. You pushed yourself out from under him, holding his face in your hands, screaming above the crowd, "Alfie! Alfie look at me!"

His eyes were searching for you, "Treacle... treacle you alright love?"

"Alfie you stupid stupid man why did you do that! Alfie please!"

He smiled weakly, "It's alright sweet girl. Old Alfie's alright. Barelt a scratch on me love. Couldn't let my best girl get hurt yeah?"

You looked down at his stomach, a sickly red bloomed on his crisp white shirt. Not a scratch. Not alright. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks, "Alfie we need to get you to a doctor. We need to go now."

Alfie shook his head, raising his hand to your trembling face, "Nah... I don't think so sweet girl. Just give me a moment. Just let me look at your sweet face for a little. Just give me a moment."

Alfie's eyes fluttered shut as he passed out. Shaking, you began screaming his name, "Alfie... Alfie! Alfie wake up!! Ollie!!! Ollie fuck get over here! Somebody help!!! Somebody please help!!!"

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee

[slutt4ellie]

Sacred Hearts Entwined

(Bare with me this is the first story i’ve ever written!)

Ellie Williams X Reader

Part 2 -> ✞

Part 3 -> ✞

What do you do when you’re falling hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend?

Summery: You’ve been friends since 2nd grade first meeting in school. Growing up in a religious background you’ve always been taught the “right” way to think. So why are you falling in love with her..?

Warnings -> Mentions of the “d slur” / Parents are controlling / homophobia / Both extremely confused of their feelings / cheating / (lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 2.3k

(Did not proofread!!)

The girl who caught your eye since you were kids, Ellie Williams.

Age 6 (grade 2) -

You didn’t have much friends, after all it was only grade 2 and being popular was probably the least of your concerns, at least that’s what your mom constantly told you.

Growing up as a naturally shy kid, meant going outside of the box to talk to people wasn’t precisely your idea of “fun”! That’s why you often dissociated, it seemed easier that way? So, as soon as the bell rang for recess you would go to the back of the playground where no one else sat watching the different animals the would scale the trees while the birds would flow through the sky.

But today was a different day, as you did that normal routine a girl sat beside you, freckles that trailed all around her face and light green eyes that shined in the sun with auburn hair which ended up being almost bright red in the sun.

“Do you like watching the animals too?” She asked fairly quietly looking at her hands, you sorta look at her and nod, to nervous to talk..

Age- 7 (grade 3) -

You shortly did learn her name after that moment, Ellie Williams. To be fair you actually started learning almost everything about her. She’s an only child, loves spending most of her time doing art or playing outdoors, she’s way more extroverted then you ever could be, and she has a pet dog named Max.

You and Ellie almost spent all your time together if not at her house playing outside then you guys would be cooped up in your basement finding new board games while your mother cooked dinner for you guys upstairs. Coming out of your shell with her seemed easier then other people, she made it easy. After all she didn’t get easily bored of my shyness through the beginning.

Age 10 (grade 6) -

“Okay push!!” Ellie groans pushing a trash bin closer to the convenience store ladder which leads to the roof. “Ellie this is dumb” You say on the opposite side using your back to help her push it. “Just relax! Once we get up there, then we can practically see the whole town!” She smiles continuing to push it “But if we get caug-“ You can’t even finish your sentence before she talks “We won’t get caught!” She says as the trash bin finally reaches the end of the brick wall.

“K boost me!” Ellie smiles walking up beside you as you slowly crouch resting your back on the cold metal trash bin, you put your hands in a cuff which Ellie’s foot rest in as you lift her up. She’s not even standing on the trash bin for more then 10 seconds before the bottom gives out and she falls feet first in the bagged trash “Ag fuck! Help!” Ellie groans trying to lift herself out.

You burst out laughing not even grabbing her hands to help her up and out, but now she yells “Help me!!” You’re still cackling as she practically falls out “Eww now you smell weird!” You laugh getting away from her “Oh yeah you want a hug?” Ellie says chasing after you as you run away into the distance.

Age 14 (Freshman year) -

“It’s bullshit!” Ellie says annoyed “They didn’t care about signing us up for a catholic school for the last 10 years” Ellie says kicking in her new shoes she got for her uniform “Maybe just a change of heart” You shrug almost accepting it “You barley even care” Ellie says looking at you “Us pouting isn’t gonna change our parents mind, the decision is final now?”

“I don’t wanna even go, I look really dumb in a skirt.” Ellie holds it up disappointed “Ellie you look fine in a skirt” You sorta smile looking at her “I don’t, I rather just wear the pants.” Ellie groans sliding her hands down her face dramatically “Well I think you look good?” You say partially because you want her to stop whining about it but mainly because you mean it.

Age 15 (grade 10) -

“So you’re going with Alex then?” Ellie ask looking at you as you read a book “I mean yeah he asked it would be weird not to go?” You sorta shrug “K..? I- We just always made fun of people who went to the dances, I just didn’t except you to suddenly change?” Ellie says, she wants it to seem like she doesn’t care but she’s genuinely doing a horrible job covering it. “I guess I didn’t get the impression you cared so much?” An annoyed tone leaking through your voice.

“I don’t.” Ellie says almost coldly adding on a few seconds later. “I’m probably gonna dip, my parents want me home soon anyway.” Ellie says standing up. You sorta just wave also not in the mood it’s been a long day and you don’t wanna fight with Ellie over a stupid thing like going to the dance with someone.

16 (grade 11) -

The moment where the story starts to go downhill, well this is it. You got together with Alex a few weeks after the dance and you’ve been together all summer. Leaving little time for Ellie, and don’t get me wrong! It’s not like it’s purposefully happening, it’s just the fact that you’re both at 2 different points and spending all your time with the person you’ve previously been doing that with for 10 years isn’t exactly on your top priority list. Ellie’s also just been weird around you, she doesn’t like it when Alex is brought up occasionally sighing every time he’s even mentioned or going on about how she can’t see you guys going beyond high school. And at this point you finally talk “You say it like you’re fucking jealous?” You say a bit pissed off.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” Ellie claps back. “I don’t know Ellie! Please you tell me, every time I bring him up it’s like the idea of me dating someone repeals you, I don’t get why you’re not happy for me!”

“Who ever said I wasn’t happy for you” Ellie says now no longer walking so she can actually look at you in the face. “You just imply it constantly, like am I missing something, did he do something??” You say actually wanting to hear her opinion, why she hates him. Ellie chokes up though, wanting nothing to do with the real reason she doesn’t like Alex.

“Because I-“ She stops, and switches what she was going to say. “Because me and you barley hang out anymore, last summer all we did was go to each others houses and now you have 0 time for me!” She sorta yells. “Because Ellie I have a boyfriend? Did you not except us to grow up?” You now yell back, this whole argument is picking up fast. “I expected you to have the fucking decency to hang out with me once in awhile, you think i’m some girl who’s just obsessed with you and it’s getting old” Ellie says hurt that becoming evident when her voice cracks. “Ellie I didn’t say-“ You can’t finish your sentence because she talks. “It’s fine we can hang out later.” She says turning around and walking away.

To be fair half of you wants to chase after her, talk to her like you used to before you guys even started high school, but you don’t. This isn’t a movie after all.

(Present: Saturday)

You and Ellie haven’t talked in about 4 days since the little fight, the annoying part of it is the fight wasn’t even that serious, it’s just neither of you know where to start.

Throughout your friendship there’s only been a few fights, none of them being at all important, dumb stuff like you never gave each others clothes back or broke a toy. Never something like this, something that actually had meaning.

You don’t even understand why it bothers Ellie so much that you’re dating Alex, she’s your best friend, if anything she should support it, you would support her? As of now though you’re trying to do everything in your power to completely ignore the fact you guys even had a fight, as long as she doesn’t talk to you and you don’t talk to her it’s fine! Right…?

That’s at least how you thought about it, avoiding it seemed like the best situation at the end of the day because you never had to confront the problem, you did that a lot. When you were 7 and broke a glass cup, the way you solved it was hiding it in between the tiny opening between your counter and oven. Which actually ending up working..till your brother found it and immediately snitched.

Tonight though there was a perfect distraction, there was a party and half the school was going to be there, I mean it was a safe assumption saying Ellie wasn’t going to be. She hated parties, she said “It’s like a bunch of toddlers in a room, not really anything fun about that?” Which wasn’t completely false but she rarely let loose and actually drank.

Tonight’s plan was to get blackout drunk, forget Ellie, forget school, just forget everything as of now, and just hang out with the guy you loved..?

Because you love Alex how could you not?? He plays football, is popular, has a bunch of friends, treats you nice! You would be insane not to like him!! So why does everything with him feel so stale and forced? Shit now you’re thinking to much about this, Ellie is just getting in your head.

So when it was 11pm and your boyfriend Alex picked you up you made sure to make him the only thing on your mind, hanging around him, being touchy, anything to convince you that you love him. “Baby can you get me a drink” He ask smiling kissing your cheek “Yeah of course” You smile walking over to the kitchen grabbing a red solo cup filling it up with punch when as you look up, there she in. Ellie..

“Real gentleman you picked out.” Ellie says sarcastically drinking out of her red solo cup clearly tipsy if not drunk. “What..” You sigh looking up at her.. “I said real gentlemen. I mean because he’s grabbing your drinks and all!” She smiles looking at you right in the eyes.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly care so much Ellie.” You say annoyed looking at her. “I don’t care I just know you could do better..” She shrugs looking at her red solo cup the confidence disappearing after that sentence. “Who’s the magical person who’s better for me then Ellie?” You look up at her

Ellie sorta shrugs. She wants to say her but she rather skip on border school because her stupid crush on you, if her parents found out Ellie would be kicked out in a matter of seconds. “I don’t know, just someone better” you just slowly nod as Ellie finishes her sentence “Thanks for that great speech Ellie.” Ellie grabs you arm as you try and leave. “When did you start settling for low?” Ellie ask looking at you “Fuck you” You push her.

Ellie pushes you back “You’ve changed” You quickly shoot back “You act like you fucking like me!” you say probably to loud “You seem like a dyke Ellie.” You don’t even know why you said that!..well you sorta do. It was to cover your own ass, it was better to say that then “I think i’m in love with you Ellie”. Ellie almost immediately steps back and walks out which prompted you to follow “Ellie I didn’t fucking- fuck.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she’s gone, at this point you’re almost sure you just fully screwed up your whole friendship.

(Sunday 3:47am)

You can’t fall asleep knowing you called Ellie that, it was a heat of the moment and you didn’t even fucking mean it, it felt so much easier then admitting you think you love her? What if she didn’t feel the same when, then the whole school knows you like girls and next thing you know your parents find out and you’re getting sent to a border school to be “corrected”! Fuck, fuck, fuck. You get out of your bed throwing on a t shirt and sweatpants, what are you even doing??

You quickly sneak out your window and start running to Ellie’s house which is about a 7 minute normal walk. As you run up you notice that Ellie’s bedroom light is on, so sneakily climb up onto the roof, you used to do that a lot during summer after your mom would say no to a sleepover but once you climb up Ellie’s window you lightly knock on it.

After about a minute and a half she opens the window and sees it’s you almost immediately shutting it. Before Ellie can shut it though she puts her palm on the window. “Ellie can we talk” You ask genuinely nervous she might say no.. “No, i’m studying?” Ellie completely lies but she just needs a shitty excuse “Ellie it’s Sunday can I just come in. Please.” At this point it’s like your begging and Ellie eventually opens the window fully. You step in looking at her “I’m so sorry” you say almost immediately “Mhm” Ellie replies, she doesn’t wanna here stupid ass sorry’s

“Ellie” You say looking at her.

And as soon as Ellie looks up you lean forward and kiss her. Ellie moves her hands on your face and you do the same..

But that moment is cut almost immediately right after when Ellie’s father walks in..

A/N -> I hope this is okay for my first post!! I’ve been reading on tumblr for about a month now and I thought making something could be interesting. I might make a part 2 depending on if I feel like it considering this story ends on a cliff hanger 😭

[ohnomytummy]

hi, new here, so uh…those belly fantasies…yeah? 🫣

if I were to-hypothetically-send a fantasy it would be this…

I just got back from dinner. My belly is completely stuffed full. Groaning in pain I make my way up to you and place my head on your chest. My belly lets out these sickly gurgles as it tries-and fails-to digest everything. It’s at its brim but I don’t mind if you stuff me until I’m puking my guys out…

ps. I don’t mind wholesome or…kinky… *cough* kinky please *cough*

Hi 😙 This one was cute and hot and domestic and fun!!! Thank you new anon friend ❤️

—

I love when you go out to dinner with your friends on weekends.

You always order way too much food. Always get just a few too many drinks. You leave in your nice, put together outfit and get back with a button or two popped, your belly pressed against the fabric. Eager to undo the zipper or take off the belt.

You always text me when you think you “may” come home overfilled, which always means you’ll be eating till your seems are close to popping (close…can’t be too messy with your friends). Lets me know to be on the couch with some show on when your car comes up the drive…the oven and deep fryer on, just in case.

I hear your key in the door and my breath quickens. I can’t wait to see how big my baby got on their own, already waiting for the signal that you’re eager to get your belly near bursting.

I call out to you from the living room and instead of a hi or hey…you groan and sigh. You drop your stuff loudly on the floor, carelessly take off your shoes, and make your way over to me. The whole time, I’m watching your belly—your shirt is riding up over your bloat leaving your lower tum bare, your jeans are unzipped shamelessly. As you turn and walk towards me, I see new stains on the fabric. I can’t help but be proud at the sight.

As you reach me, I close my hands around the back of your thighs, gently squeezing your softness. I kiss your belly, triggering a light moan. You put one hand on my chest and fall into my lap, straddling me, letting your belly bulge sexily between the two of us. Wrapping both arms around my neck you lean into my ear and say those two pretty words: “Feed me.”

I look in your eyes and see that special, dirty, excited glint. You’re almost drooling at the salacious thoughts your mind has pushing you towards me and your tummy.

“Of course.”

We go to our room where a special fridge is hidden in our closet: full of all your favorite sweets, heavy dinners, drinks, and…appetite enhancers. As you undress and make your evening selections, I can see your goal. Spread out next to you (as you hold your belly in your hands) is a 2 liter of Coke, a cheesecake, and a pan of your favorite lasagna. You cock your head and look me dead in the eyes: “I want all of it.”

I ask if you’re sure (trying not to look too much like an eager puppy), and after the confirmation of you sucking on my fingers…we begin.

I lean you again the pillows and begin feeding you the lasagna. Your dinner, you say, was more like an appetizer. You had more drinks than food, you tell me you’re the perfect mix of tipsy and hungry (hiccup). Just nibbled a plate of nachos (the stains). You ask me to roll a joint after your first chunk of lasagna. As I fulfill your desire, you chug the soda so I can return to you burping, your tummy rounder than when I left.

We smoke and you eat…and eat, and eat, and eat. You finish the lasagna and I’m enthralled—we take a break so I can show you just how impressed I am (my thrusts make you sick, you say as you shake and moan). When you plow through half the cheese cake, I’m so turned on by your display, I’m feeding you with my legs straddling your open thigh, gently and mindlessly humping to the pace of your chewing.

But the thickness of the dessert gets you. You stop me and we hear a loud rumbling coming from deep within you. You’re so full, there’s no time to think or move: one gag and a wave of sick spills over you like it was just waiting in your throat to be released. You moan and sputter, wrapping both arms over your middle, contorting your body to protect your tummy (and stop me from feeding you). That cheese cake triggered something. You’re way, WAY too full. The ratio of dairy to everything else is sickening.

I quickly transition to caretaker. We’re well prepped with towels and trash bags. I place a towel in your lap, and, knowing you’re now helpless to the waves of sick about to rush over your body, hold a bag under your chin to prep for the next heave.

And boy do you heave. You shut your eyes tight and muster a horrible “oh god” as your huge binge starts rolling back up and into the trash bag. Your arms are now glued to your tummy, and as you heave fumble my way behind you, moving you into my lap. As you gain the ability to hold the bag yourself, I rub your back and belly, caressing your soft, damp inner thighs while you get sick.

After the first relentless wave subsides, you’re left with an intense overstuffed belly ache and spend the rest of the night running from our bed (which I cleaned and re-dressed when your puking turned to a rush of dairy belly and you were stuck moaning on the toilet for 20 minutes) to the bathroom. Neither of us really sleep because your stomach has me perpetually hard and wanting. Your tummy hurts so bad you can barely move, so I get both of us off to your stomach ache. Letting my mouth take care of you then jerking myself off to your bulging tummy ache.

[billlydear]

Can you do a billy Hargrove x reader and the reader kinda just gives off this : https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRqVRPgo/

Vibe but can you maybe do it as he sees her on his first day and just knows she’s different

SMOKE BREAK - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 612 - INBOX (please request) - GIF CREDIT TO OWNER

Every single cheerleader at Hawkins High looks like a cookie-cutter mold to Billy. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect shoes, perfect boyfriend, perfect life. Looking at them is like looking at a row of dolls in a store, each packaged properly and unattainable to any passersby.

It isn't until he catches you smoking behind the gym that he takes notice of other details: one of your white shoelaces is singed, blackened from what he assumes is a cigarette burn. There's a loose string on your skirt, and your cardigan is slipping off of your shoulder. There's a stain in the white fabric of your top, a deep red like wine.

He'd already been fumbling with his pack of cigarettes when he'd stepped out of the gym but he freezes for a second when he sees you, eyes flitting over your lit smoke.

You loll your head lazily to the side and it showcases a sticker on your cheek, a purple star. You glance down at the cig between his fingers, "Need a light?"

He wordlessly offers the cigarette to you, watching as you dig through your handbag. You pull out a pink, glittery zippo, and a flame bursts to life where your primly manicured nails pry at the wheel.

"Thanks," He murmurs and side-eyes you while you put the lighter back. There's a tube of lipstick in your bag, right next to a dime bag.

"Shouldn't you be in there with the basketball team?"

Your foot is propped up against the brick behind you, and you stare up at him with a raised eyebrow that's perfectly shaped.

"Shouldn't you be in there with the cheerleaders?"

You scoff and it yields a puff of smoke. "They won't notice I'm gone."

"Yeah, well, neither will the basketball team."

"That's 'cause you're new," You blow out your lungful of smoke less aggressive this time, "The cheerleaders just don't like me."

"Yeah," Billy snorts, "I bet your burnt shoelace ruins that picture-perfect thing they've got going on there. And the weed smell."

You shove at his shoulder, and he's surprised when it knocks him slightly off balance.

"Jesus," He hisses, rubbing at the sore spot through his leather jacket, "You've got an arm on you, sweetheart."

You hum, "And a knife. So mention the weed again and I'll cut the tires on that Camaro of yours."

"A knife? What are you, fucking crazy?" Billy slides away from you against the wall, staring at you indignantly.

"Just prepared." You delve into your bag and retrieve the lipstick tube, digging your thumb into the bottom to reveal a blade that pops up instead of makeup.

"Shit," Billy breathes, "I pity the next guy to lose a hand after he sticks it up your tiny little skirt."

“A hand won’t be the only thing he loses,” You vow, your sweet voice muffled by the cig in your mouth, “Tell your friend Tommy that if he tries it again he’ll never reproduce.”

Your snark draws a laugh from Billy that he almost regrets, because he doesn’t want you to know he isn’t on the greatest terms with Tommy. But he can’t deny that the other boy is audacious to say the least.

“Will do.” He promises, hearing a rousing shout from the crowd that probably means he’s supposed to be getting back, “That’s my cue. Don’t get caught.” He stomps on his cig, “And if you do, don’t tell ‘em I was here. Or that I'll be out in twenty minutes for another smoke. See you then?”

“See ‘ya.”

Your eyes trail him as he turns on his heels and ducks back into the gym, a soft smirk curling over your lips as his scent lingers around you where he stood.

[upon-a-starry-night]

A Perfect Christmas Pt8-The End

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Summary: You're used to doing Christmas activities alone- but there's a certain couple who plan on changing that this year, and maybe you'll all get the Christmas gift you're really hoping for!

Pt1       Pt7

It was 10 PM on Christmas Eve and you had no idea what to do with yourself. You’d had the most fun this year than you’ve ever had during the holidays but you still felt like you wanted to do more. Tomorrow was Christmas and after that was New Years and then the next major holiday to look for was… Valentine's day and you weren’t really looking forward to that one.

So despite it being late and cold you put on your coat and headed to the elevators. You didn’t really know what you wanted to do yet but you’d had a sudden burst of creative energy that you needed to release.

You were slipping on your shoes in the hallway when you heard voices coming your way, you lit up as you recognized who it was

“I think we should tell her tomorrow…” Nat’s voice was heard first, then came Wanda’s

“But how do we do it? I mean-”

The pair stopped when they spotted you, eyes lighting up with curiosity at your attire

“Y/n!”

You smiled at the couple, tugging on the heel of your shoe before standing up fully.

“Hey guys, can’t sleep?” You noticed neither of them had changed into their pajamas yet, which was odd because pajamas were the only thing you guys wore yesterday.

“Something like that,” Nat responded, watching as a few strands of hair fell in front of your eyes. She wanted nothing more than to tuck them behind your ear and kiss you right after. “Are you going somewhere?” The two were curious to know where you planned on going at 10:30 pm on Christmas Eve of all nights

You shrugged your shoulders and began patting your pockets for your scarf, it had been snowing all day which meant it was extra cold outside tonight. “I was probably going to go play in the snow” you spoke as you successfully found and wrapped your scarf around yourself.

You looked between the two as you fished your gloves out of your pocket, after the snowball fight fiasco Wanda had lent you a pair of her gloves, and while you knew you could just ask Tony for a new pair you really didn’t want to.

“Can we join you” You looked up from tugging your glove on in shock, you didn’t really expect anyone to go with you, it was Christmas Eve after all.

Still, you lit up at the idea of your favorite redheads joining you and nodded your head excitedly “of course! It’d be nice to have the company,” The pair smiled “as long as you promise not to beat my ass with snowballs again” You joked, and all three of you giggled at the memory.

“No promises”

–

After Wanda and Nat had put on more layers the three of you went out to find a nice large area of snow, luckily there were lots of parks around and most of the people who would play in the snow were eagerly anticipating Christmas's arrival in their beds.

Dark clouds filled the night sky as you walked, usually, you enjoyed admiring the stars but snow and rain clouds were the exceptions to your stargazing habits.

You spotted a large patch of snow up ahead and ran towards it, carefully laying yourself back into a patch of untouched snow. You giggled as Wanda and Nat approached you, feeling giddy just at their presence.

You began moving your arms up and down and your legs open and closed as you formed what you were sure was going to be the best snow angel ever created.

Natasha and Wanda watched on with fondness in their eyes, there was no doubt about it, they had to make you theirs.

You got up as carefully as you could, trying not to ruin your design and when you stood up Wanda giggled at the amount of snow in your hair. You turned to give her a questioning glance but she just waved you off with a smile.

As you observed your angel you realized you must have ruined the bottom part when you got up so you walked to a new patch of untouched snow and lay yourself down once again. This time Wanda and Nat lay down next to you in the snow, leaving enough space for each of you to form your snow angels.

As you made the wings of your angel with your arms you felt your fingers brushing against both of theirs on either side of you. Despite the cold, you felt your face getting warm at the contact.

You started laughing once again in the snow and this time Nat and Wanda couldn’t help but join you.

You felt your whole body brimming with joy at this moment you were all sharing, you wished you could freeze time so you could stay in this moment forever.

Nat was the first to get up, and you could feel the cold beginning to seep into your coat but as you went to get up Wanda stopped you. Nat helped her up and Wanda began swirling her hands as you realized what she was doing. You let the familiar feeling of her magic envelope you as you lifted off of the ground. After all, everyone knows the best way to not smudge a snow angel is to lift yourself directly off of the ground into the air.

Wanda brought you over to them and carefully set you down as you all observed the snow angels, after careful consideration you all agreed Nat’s was the best.

As you were looking at the angels a thought came to mind, “we should make them a friend” you concluded

“As in another snow angel?” Nat questioned, looking over to the first snow angel you attempted

“No…” you looked around for the perfect spot for your ‘friend’ “we should build a snowman”

Natasha snorted “okay Anna”

You grinned “I take that as a compliment”

Wanda smirked as she dusted some snow off of your coat “nobody said it wasn’t”

You bounded over to the spot you selected for your snow friend and began forming a small snowball in your hands, without saying a word Wanda and Nat each began making their own snowballs. You were building the body while Nat built the torse and Wanda built the head.

All three of you were rolling your snow around until you had to pick it up and roll it in another area so that you didn’t take all of the snow from around where your snow person would sit.

After a while of rolling, you realized you might have rolled it too heavy to carry, but that problem was easily remedied but Wanda’s wiggly-woo’s.

Since yours was the biggest you’d finished last and by the time Wanda placed the body down you were able to assemble the snowman.

While you were rolling around your ball Wand and Nat had found some sticks and rocks to give the snow friend eyes and limbs.

You all assembled the snowman together and you, of course, made a joke about ‘Assembling’ and Nat swatted you on the shoulder for it.

All three of you stood back to admire the snowman, you had to admit it was one of the best ones you’d ever made.

“If this snowman could talk what do you think it would say?” Wanda inquired

“hmm… ‘oh my gosh it’s the two coolest Avengers in the world!’ ” you guessed, referring to the two Avengers you were currently with

“Well yeah but what about Wanda-oof” You knocked shoulders with a laughing Nat as Wanda playfully shoved her over, already used to Nat’s teasing.

“I think it’d ask to be your girlfriend” You and Natasha both looked over at Wanda who was staring at the snowman with a warm smile

You laughed a little pained, wrapping your arms around yourself “I think this snowman is too good for me” you tried to joke, instead, you got two Avengers looking at you with upset expressions

“How could anyone be too good for you?”

You stared at the snowman and refused to look into their eyes.

“Y/n,” Nat started, turning her body to fully face you “You don’t really believe that do you? That everyone is too good for you?”

You sharply inhaled, squeezing your arms tighter around yourself

“Y/n,” Wanda moved to stand directly in front of you next to Nat, she tried to catch your eyes but you just stared at your shoes “Look at me моя любовь” You looked up at the nickname, the other day you got the chance to ask Bucky what it meant and he blushed and asked you if Wanda or Nat were calling you that, to which you responded yes and he told you it was better if they told you.

“Nobody is too good for you Y/n, you’re the epitome of kindness”

They were too good for you, you thought, and Wanda flinched

“No.” You furrowed your eyebrows “No, we’re not too good for you, you’re too good for us”

Your heart started pounding, what were they saying? You needed answers

“What does моя любовь mean?” they laughed a bit at your pronunciation but Wanda began turning red

“It means..” she seemed hesitant “it means My Love”

The world went quiet. You couldn’t believe your ears, all this time Wanda had been calling you her love? They both had?

You searched their eyes for an answer and found exactly what you were looking for in the way they were both looking at you.

You felt tears at the corners of your eyes, another cold sensation hit your face and you looked up to see it snowing. Talk about perfect timing.

“You’re too good for us Y/n-” Nat expressed

“No,” you cut her off with a watery laugh “No I think we’re just right for each other”

It was a leap of faith but you had confidence now that they felt the same way you did.

Nat’s watch chimed and she looked down at it before looking up at you and smiling

“Merry Christmas Y/n” She closed the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips softly against yours as one hand came up to cup your jaw. She deepened the kiss a little bit before pulling away panting lightly, you barely had time to recover before Wanda’s lips were on yours, delicately pressed against you she held your face in her hands as she kissed you. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you were kissed by the loves of your life and the snow fell gracefully around all of you.

You pulled away and you all started at each other before you let out another watery laugh

“What’s funny?” Nat challenged

You smiled warmly at her, shaking your head lightly “it’s nothing, it’s just… I love you guys”

Both of them beamed at you “we love you too” they admit.

The three of you huddled together in each other's arms and watched the Christmas snowfall, and you thought to yourself, maybe you could look forward to Valentine’s day next year.

(моя любовь- my love)

Masterlist

That’s the end! Feel free to tell me what you thought about it! I had the best time writing it <3

[petertingle-yipyip]

LOOKALIKE - MULTIVERSE!READER

Pairing: None directly; implied multiverse!matt x multiverse!spidergirl!reader

Word Count: 2,447

Summary: Spider Noire, a female spider themed hero, and Spider-man’s partner. Yanked from her universe and dropped into a new one, she finds someone familiar but still different. // is this great? no. is it fun? eh. am i posting it anyway? yeah. //

This wasn’t New York. You quickly realized that when you nearly collided with a skyscraper in the path you were swinging, one that had been clear less than a blink ago.

Wel, maybe it was. But it wasn’t your New York.

The blocks weren’t set up the right way. Businesses that were on 11th were now on 44th. The bodega you and Matt always went to was replaced with a shoe store. Your own apartment building was now a Target.

With no idea where you were, you ran to the only place that seemed to be familiar. It was late so the chances that anyone was there were minuscule. He was probably out doing his work as the Kitchen’s vigilante but you had nowhere else to go.

You burst through the doors to Nelson and Murdock and found Karen sitting at her desk, a light on in either office to the sides. Your sudden entrance made her jump from her seat as you yanked the mask off your face.

“Thank God.” You sighed. “Is Matt here?”

“Matt Murdock?” She asked carefully.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“No, he’s not here. I can get Foggy for you though, but um.. Who should I tell him is here?”

“What? Karen, c’mon. You know me.” Your brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry.” She let out a nervous chuckle.

“Karen, it’s me. Y/N Osborne?” The blank expression in her eyes made you continue, almost desperate to have her recognize you. “Spider Noire? Black and gold spandex suit?” You gestured to the suit you were still wearing. “I work with Spiderman and Daredevil all the time?”

“You know Daredevil?” Her brows raised.

“What is going on?” You let out a stressed laugh and pushed your hands through your hair.

“What’s going on out here?” Foggy came out and you were relieved to see at least he was the same.

“Y/N Osborne is here.” Karen spoke carefully.

“Osborne?” His brows raised as he turned to you. “You mean Y/N Parker?”

“Parker?” You laughed. “I’m not related to Peter, I’m related to Harry. Remember? We used to joke that Oscorp got me into Columbia.”

“The Y/N I knew was Peter Parker’s older cousin. She applied to Columbia but ended up at MIT instead.”

“Knew?”

“Yeah, Y/N died a couple years ago fighting the Hand.”

“The Hand? No, it wasn’t me that died. Elektra died that night.”

“Matt said you both did.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” You mumbled to yourself. “And that- that- that kid on the billboard? The one who killed fishbowl guy. Who is that?”

“Spiderman?”

“C’mon, guys. Peter’s like my brother. I think I'd know if he was a murderer. That’s not Spiderman.”

“Yes, it is.” He nodded and took a few steps closer. “Are you okay? Is there someone we can call for you?”

“You’re not Foggy.” You said sadly and stepped backwards, fighting back the tears. “You’re not Foggy and I can’t find Peter and something is really wrong.”

“Ms. Osborne, wait.” He tried but you were already running out the door.

You yanked your mask back down and shot a web at the roof across the street. You ignored the shouts from the streets below. Some yelled for you to go home, that they hated Spiderman. They must’ve mistaken you for Spiderman because they yelled that you were a murderer. They hated you, but you had no idea what was happening.

You didn’t know Mysterio. You didn’t know why Spiderman suddenly looked different. You didn’t know why everyone knew Peter Parker was Spiderman. While everything was spinning in your head, your body reacted to something being thrown at you.

You dove out of the way and shot a web at it so you could fling it back at whoever threw it. When you looked over, you saw the familiar silhouette. You let out a sigh of relief before yanking off your mask.

“Thank God it’s you.” You breathed.

“I’m gonna need you to answer some questions.” Matt said firmly and you felt your skin buzz when you realized Matt was ready to fight you.

“Matt?”

“Who are you?”

“Not you too.” You said sadly.

“Who do you work for?”

You groaned loudly and knocked both fists against your forehead.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“I don’t work for anyone! Why does no one believe me?” You shouted, watching as Matt began to walk slow circles around you.

“Fisk?”

“Who?” You asked in defeat.

“Yakuza? Did the Hand do this?”

“No, I-“ You groaned and flicked a quick shot at his feet. “Your pacing is making me anxious.”

“You need to tell me who you are.”

“Oh my-“ You complained before you dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Y/N Osborne. You know me.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, as if he hadn’t said it in so long. “But she’s..”

“Dead? Yeah, I’m just as confused as you are… Something’s not right, but I’m not smart enough to figure it out on my own. I thought you could help, but obviously you can’t.”

“You’re not Y/N. Not the one I knew, at least.” Matt said carefully, kneeling to free his foot. The tension in your body had dulled and now you just felt lost. “Your heartbeat is different.”

“How?” Your head tilted and you watched as he pulled off the helmet. Overall, he was the same Matt you knew back home, but his hair was shorter and even though it was messy from the helmet, you knew it was probably styled poorly. That was almost enough to make you laugh but you found a small comfort in seeing the same eyes you knew. The same features, same expression, same inflictions in his voice.

“It’s stronger. You're stronger.”

“You said you knew me as Y/N Parker?”

“Yeah… And you couldn’t do this.” He gave a small smile as he gestured to your webbing. “You trained with Elektra and Stick.”

“Yeah, I knew Ellie. But I met her when I met you, back in college. At Columbia.”

“You’re so different…” He said softly. “You’re telling the truth but… You’re just not my Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m figuring that part out.” You sighed. “You’re a dead ringer for my Matt, though. Perfect lookalike.”

He gave a small laugh. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is.” You smiled softly. “But it isn’t. Just makes me miss him more.”

“Have you tried finding Spiderman?”

“Peter? I don’t even know how I found you.” You laughed nervously.

“Technically, I found you.” He teased and you mimicked him, making him laugh.

“I don’t even know if I’d find this Peter or the Peter I know. Hell, there could be five Peter Parkers floating around now.”

“I could help you.” He offered.

You glanced around the New York skyline and felt an odd sensation. It felt like a string, tugging you and it sent a strange feeling to the pit of your stomach. It sent a tingle across your skin and almost made you shiver.

“No… I think I have an idea.” You said distantly, attention still stuck on that feeling. You felt if you turned away, it would move and you wouldn’t be able to find it again. “If you can’t get out of that-“ You offered over your shoulder as you fixed your mask back into place. “-it normally falls apart in a couple hours.”

“Couple hours?” He repeated in shock. “No. Y/N, c’mon.”

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine. I gotta go.”

“Y/N!”

“Later, Daredevil!” You called as you stepped off the roof.

After what felt like an eternity of swinging in circles, you finally let your feet hit the ground. You yanked your mask again and slammed it at your feet.

“Goddammit.” You huffed and shoved your fingers through your hair.

You stopped on that rooftop and surveyed the nearby buildings, hoping to see a familiar figure in his trademark red and blue spandex. But you seemed to be alone, despite the way your head screamed that you were right.

“Where are you, Peter?” You asked the city, hoping the streets would answer or the lights would point you in the right direction. You didn’t really expect an answer so you jumped when you heard the voice.

“If you’re looking for a fight.” A tired voice came from behind you. You spun quickly with your fists ready, only to find a boy hunched over his folded knees that he clutched to his chest. “I really don’t wanna deal with that right now.”

“A fight? No, no.” You relaxed your hands and folded them behind your back instead. “I- I didn’t realize anyone else was up here. I’m sorry. I can go.”

“Doesn’t matter… I don’t care anymore.”

“Are you-“ You said gently, moving to crouch beside him. “Are you Peter?”

“Mhmm.”

“Peter Parker?”

“Unfortunately.” He muttered. “Who are you?”

“That’s a little uh, bleak. What’s going on, little Spidey?”

“Well everyone looking for me from another universe has tried to kill me so...”

“I’m sorry, another universe?” You repeated in disbelief but that seemed to be the most fitting explanation. “That’s what this is? Huh. Oh man, Pete’s probably loving this.”

“Well this Peter isn’t because tonight has been the worst night of my life and I want it all to be over.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “That seems to be the trend with Peter Parkers, apparently. The whole always having someone trying to kill you bit. My Peter deals with that all the time… Something really bad happened tonight, didn’t it?” You asked gently once you realized just how beat up he was.

All he could do was nod while he clutched his knees a little tighter.

“People call me Spider Noire, by the way.” You sat beside him and crossed your legs. “But most of the time, it’s Y/N Osborne.”

“Osborne?” He repeated quickly. Defensively, almost. “Like- Like Norman Osborne? The Green Goblin Osborne?”

“Norman, yes. But my dad was never the Goblin.” You defended immediately, putting your hands up in surrender. “He died of some sickness. They never tell the kid the details, especially if she’s not the one getting the company… No, that honor - along with the Green Goblin title - went to my brother before he died.”

“Oh…” He replied in a small voice. “What happened to your brother?”

“He died in a fight against Spiderman. Harry - that’s my brother - tried to kill me and his best friend’s girlfriend.. Dropped us down a clock tower. I managed to save myself but Gwen wasn’t so lucky… Kind of a shitty thing to do if you ask me but hey. It is what it is.”

“Against Spiderman…”

“Yeah, but I think it’s for the best.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think I could’ve forgiven him for what he did.” You confessed. “And even if he didn’t die against my Peter, I probably would’ve killed him myself.”

“You wanted revenge on your own brother?”

“To be quite honest, I don’t think he really saw me as his sister… I think he hated me and whatever made him snap just brought it to the surface. And I don’t look like my father so I have a theory that I was adopted but the only people who would’ve known are dead.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.” He offered honestly.

You thought it was kind that he would offer his sympathy to you, despite his clear suffering. You had seen the billboards and magazine stories that criminalized him. You received a handful of the hate and threats intended for him. You saw the news report of the demolished condo building from his fight. You saw the flash of Dr. Connors in his lizard form and the blur of a modified version of the Osborne glider. You knew he was going through hell in those moments, but he still offered you - a complete stranger from an apparently different universe - his kindness.

“Who was it?” You tried. “If you’re okay with me asking.”

“Hmm?”

“Tonight.” You shifted to face him. “I saw that there was a body recovered after a massive explosion during a Spiderman fight. Who did you lose tonight?”

“My Aunt May.”

“Oh no, Peter.” You said gently, putting both hands on his forearms. “I’m so sorry… I know what she meant to my Peter so I can only assume what she meant to you.”

“She was all the family I had left.” He whispered in a pained, broken voice. “How-“ He took a deep breath to settle himself. “How am I supposed to keep doing this without her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help with that.” You sighed.

“She died because of me.”

“No.” You said quickly. You slid over to be on your knees in front of him to ensure you had his attention. “Peter, I promise it wasn’t your fault. I don’t care how the fight went down but it wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was!” He cried. “I told her- I told her to run. But she didn’t. She stayed with me and now she’s dead! And I couldn’t save her.” His voice fell to a whisper for the last line.

“Guilt is one hell of a burden to carry. Peter, you can’t allow your grief to become guilt because it will ruin you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I saw it happen to my Peter.”

“What happened?”

“I can’t explain to you what he was feeling because I wouldn’t be able to tell his story right but I know someone who can… Do you wanna help me find my Peter? I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.”

“I don’t wanna do anything other than…”

“Other than what?”

“I want to kill Norman Osborne.”

“I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from.” You nodded. “But you’re so young, Peter. You don’t want that type of blood on your hands, do you?”

“The world already thinks I’m a murderer.” He scoffed and threw his hands forward. “What difference does it make?”

“The difference is whether or not you are. Don’t fit into the narrative that the world paints for you.”

“Peter.” A girl said from behind you. You stood and found a girl and a boy, eyes locked on Peter and near tears.

You stepped away and let them embrace their friend. Your attention turned to a feeling from slightly above you and you turned to find your Peter watching. You let out a sigh of relief as he dropped down to embrace you.

But if you only knew how upside down that night would turn, you never would’ve gone out to begin with. Maybe then you would’ve been safe in your own universe.

[dizzy-n-busy]

★ FINAL GIRL ★

Charlie is Casper's Final Girl (Guy)!!

{cw: chasing, light angst with happy(?) ending, heavily implied/referenced death off-screen, mild possessive n' obsessive behavior, Charlie is scared but kinda into it??}

• • • ★ • • •

Charlie's legs burned.

He was just walking to his old childhood friends house and ended up getting jumped; passing the alley wasn't the smartest idea, sure, but he just got off of work.

His body ached and was inches away from breaking down the moment he stepped out of Pete's. He was tired and didn't want to drag this day on any longer that it had to be.

He just wanted to see his friend again, after all this time apart - Charlie smiled to himself when thinking of them.

Now, the blonde wasn't going to lie and say his feelings towards his friend were strictly platonic.

He had an embarrassingly big crush on them; then again, could you even blame him?

Imagine being a dipshit little kid and getting into so much trouble with other dipshit kids that you're life was balanced precariously on a wire, got it? Now imagine having a friend beat the shit outta the same kids who threw your ass in a locker for stealing a dollar or two from them.

Exactly, shut up.

It was difficult not falling for them, something Charlie failed at and despite not having the balls to tell them that - he didn't think getting shanked was a proper retribution for his avoidance.

Yet here he was; tearing the soles of worn shoes as he was chased by the little gang of miscreants, thinking that their faces were vaguely familiar - back in his rough and tumble days, he'd wronged more people than not so it wasn't weird that his karma was hitting so soon.

But this seems more a matter of life and death than a little black eye.

Brrrring!

What?

Despite the tears clouding his vision, Charlie had seen someone calling him through the phone he had wedged tightly in his hand - he ducked and weaved through a few buildings and hit answer under the name, Casper.

" Yo, Chuck - where're you at? "

Their voice through the device turned the waterworks on real quick; Charlie choked back a sob as he ran up on the park, more specifically - his and Cas' spot.

" H-Hey, Cas! " Charlie was almost happy in the fact that he'd die hearing their voice, " I'm sorry but I don't think I'm ganna make it your house - "

Despite the lead the pizza boy had on the gang, he wasn't the most athletic; so charging through the overgrown clearance wasn't the smartest. Charlie trips over a thick root which bursted out concrete floor, smashing into the dense plain with a cuss.

" Fuck! " The blonde grits through clenched teeth, wincing when he tried to bounce back. Shit, he definitely pulled something.

" Chuck! Are you okay? " Casper's worried voice makes him hyper aware of the fast approaching footsteps from behind. " Charlie, where are you?! "

" I'm sorry, Cas - " is all he can muster, feeling dizziness overcome his senses from his head hitting the ground, " I love you. "

Charlie's ears rang over the incoherent yelling from the glowing device hardly clutched in his hand - his weakened body fell lax onto the old stomping grounds of his youth, seeing the rest of the people round up on him.

Slate colored eyes fluttered back into his skull, forcing him into darkness.

Content.

~

A blonde headed man shifted on plush comforters, shoving his face into a soft pillow and inhaling deeply.

Smelling like fresh linen and -

He pins his brows together, and inhales again; it smelled like...Cas?

It was some new cologne or perfume - hell, maybe just lotion for all he knew - that they wore when he first saw them in years; spinning that damn sign drafted most of the scent to him.

A pause lingers in the air as Charlie tries to recollect himself.

Then he jolts up.

Wasn't he literally knocking on deaths door, like 2 minutes ago?? The fuck kinda divine intervention is this?

Thoroughly disoriented, the blonde sits stagnant in the damn near king sized bed, staring at the satin covered pillow he'd been laying on a second ago.

He shuffles a bit and feels something fall off his shoulder - his skin tingling awake at the textures surrounding him - and sees a thick blanket pooling at his lap.

" What the fuck..." Charlie's voice falls short, he eventually decided to push the warm comforter off. He sees his ankle is bandaged.

Swinging his legs off the bed and hanging on the side for a bit; looking around with his head heavy, shoulders pinned up to his ears and back slouching.

It was a nice room; fairly spacious and humble with memorabilia littering everything - records hanging overhead and poster lining the walls.

Charlie heaves a big sigh from his mouth, gently nodding his head in encouragement to sit up and get out.

Standing up was weird, his legs felt shaky and sore and his body hurt like hell. Stumbling to a wall was his only move forward.

The blonde opened the door and leaned on every wall he could, hobbling a bit from the pain striking up his bandaged leg.

The house was pretty big, probably a one story with wider parameters; good space to hightail it if he needed to. Charlie notices that it's dark out, a void having swallowed the sky and dotted it with stars from just out the window.

" You're up. "

The noise the lanky man lets out is between a squeak and shout; accidentally applying pressure to his leg.

" Fuck - shit! "

Charlie almost falls over reaching for his leg, the loss of balance sends him hurling to the floor in a matter of seconds.

But he doesn't hit it.

Instead, he's embraced in strong arms which wrap around him tightly. Charlie tossed his head up urgently and pauses; eyes widening and mind boggled.

" Casper? "

The taller nods and smiles down at him a little - with his heart suddenly thumping in his chest, Charlie scrambles to stand back up. " Holy shit, sorry! I jus - ah! "

The back of his legs are pulled from under him and a support lands at his back. The blonde yelps when he's suddenly in the air, a quick turn of his head proves that he's also face to face.

" You're turning red, Chuck. " Casper tilts their head, lips tugging up more, " something wrong? "

Charlie shakes his head frantically and despite his flailing, they kept an iron girp on him; practically digging their nails into his skin.

" Ah! Uhm - no! Not at all, Cas! " the blonde chuckles nervously, squirming at their intense stare, their smile seems to widen and their breath hitches. He gulps and remembers earlier.

" Uh, do you actually know how I got here? " his eyes widen a bit and he quickly shakes his hands, " not that that's a problem! It's just, a really big change of scenery. "

Casper hummed, walking back to the bedroom as they replied, " I brought you here. "

The response was simple enough but lacking significant reasoning. Charlie fidgeted.

" How? I was getting jumped and like a solid 20 blocks from your house...! " he tried reasoning, letting himself get placed on the bed he woke up in when they past the threshold to the room. " you wouldn't have been able to..."

" I dealt with them, don't worry about it. "

It was reassuring in their voice but something underlyed their words; spite curling around certain letters.

Not at him, he thinks.

" What happen - "

" You know, Chuck. "

The blonde's cut off before he can question them further, their eyes looking dark as the bed squeaked under their added weight; Charlie backed up instinctively, alarms ringing in the back of his head at the smell of metal.

He tried to ignore the racing in his heart and urge to squeak.

" You never let me respond to you, after you said - " Their eyes lid when they lean in closer, " I love you. "

Charlie berated himself internally, feeling the redness spreading to his chest. " I-I know! I'm so sorry about th - "

" I love you too, Charlie..."

The blonde gasps at the sharp point of a knife to his jaw, coaxing him to stare into their blown-out pupils; practically seeing himself inside them.

A liquid dragged down his neck, dampening his shirt; warm and red.

" My forever final girl. "

• • • ★ • • •

[punkharryp0tt3r]

Mini Rarry/Ronarry fanfic

(If you don’t like Ron x Harry, please, don’t waste your time reading this)

Harry had just been in Gryffindor tower, cuddling in bed with Ron, where was he now?

This place was dark, he realized he was standing on wet grass, and there was a very subtle mist floating around, then more came into his view. Gravestones, thorns in the grass… Luckily, he was wearing shoes, so he couldn’t feel the thorns.

Wait a minute, when was he wearing shoes?

His surroundings held a sort of dark familiarity to them, but his head felt foggy, and he had a wave of anxiety wash over him. He stopped examining his surroundings for a moment, and instead went to looking at himself.

What was he wearing..? A dirty long sleeved shirt with red and gold colors on it, some dirtied black pants and- wait, this was his triwizard tournament uniform, except why would he be wearing that..?

And then it hit him, and he froze.

He looked up again, his eyes darting around and his head turning rapidly, looking around panicked. He knew where he was now, he was at that damn graveyard.

He was hyperventilating, he barely noticed the tears forming in his eyes, to panicked to care, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Harry? Are you alright?”

Cedric’s voice said from beside Harry.

Harry let out a slow breath, turning his head towards him, and he saw Cedric’s bright face, his golden eyes, and the tears that had been building in his yes rolled down his face.

“C-Cedric- Get- get out of here, p-please…It’s not safe, he’ll kill you-“ Harry tried explaining, but he was breathing so heavily and stuttering so much he bet Cedric couldn’t even understand what he was saying, his suspicions were confirmed when Cedric responded.

“What? Harry- What are you even talking about? Where are we?” Cedric said, looking down at him, confusion filling his big golden eyes, the eyes he used to marvel at. Harry was practically bawling now, Cedric couldn’t be here- He needed to stay safe, he needed to get out of here-

“Ce-Cedric, just please- get out, it’s not safe here, I’m so sorry I brought you here- just-“ Harry hiccuped through his sobs. “Please just- Run back to the cup, get out of here- please….” Harry was shaking Cedric by the shoulders, trying to get him to move, to get out of here.

Then, the voice he had been dreading hearing ran out from the darkness.

“Kill the spare”

Loud ringing filled Harry’s ears, green light flashed hauntingly across the graveyard, and a thump hit the ground.

Harry gasped awake, cold sweat covering him, his heart pounding so viciously in his ears he swore his eardrums would burst, additional coldness came from the tears running down his face and the fact he had just accidentally kicked the blankets off him.

He felt like he was both in the graveyard and wherever he was right now. Everything was weirdly distorted, and stretched around weirdly.

This feeling, he never got used to it, it was like a new hell each time.

“Harry.”

He shook with sobs, he heard people move around him, who were they- what was going on-

“Harry”

Someone was close to him, just who-

“Harry, Love, calm down, your safe.”

Came Ron’s voice from beside him. Ron’s big warm freckled arms wrapped around him, pulling him out of his nightmare completely.

Harry blinked a couple of times through tears, Ron’s worried sleepy face came into his vision after quite a few blinks. Oh, and a couple of other faces two. Such as Dean Thomas’s and Neville Longbottoms. Harry hurriedly wiped at his face, it was just a stupid nightmare-

“Relax, mate, your alright.” Dean said putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder hesitantly. “Yeah, your safe, just like Ron said.” Neville added from beside Dean. Harry immediately began apologizing, they should be asleep, but because of him, they were losing much needed rest..

“I’m- Im sorry f-for waking you guys up..” Harry quickly apologized. “Hey, hey, stop right there, you don’t have to apologize, It’s alright Haz.” Dean said, smiling kindly at him. Harry pitifully tried returning the smile, sniffling and burying his face in his redhead boyfriends shirt, hugging onto him for dear life.

After Ron assured Dean and Neville that they’d be alright, Dean and Neville went back to there beds. Ron gently pushed Harry back into laying down, Harry buried his face into Ron’s neck.

“Are you okay love?” Ron whispered gently in Harry’s ear, playing with his messy hair as Harry just enjoyed Ron’s natural warmth. “Yeah, I’m alright now…just a bit..shaken-“ Harry quietly mumbled into Ron’s neck. “Yeah, I can assume you are..” Ron gently kissed Harry on the top of the head. “How about we get you a glass of water….rinse your face off, and get you some new pajamas. Because I’m pretty sure you don’t want to sleep in clothes that are soaked in cold sweat, love.” Ron pointed out.

Harry shifted into a sitting position, pulling Ron up with him. “Yeah…” Harry whispered quietly into Ron’s chest. The two got out of bed, walking to the bathroom. Ron yawned, only lighting a candle, not wanting to have a super bright light in either of there eyes this late in the night. Ron gently rinsed the sweat of of Harry’s face, drying his face off with a towel afterwards. Harry got his glass of water, changed his clothes, and climbed back in bed with Ron, very sleepy.

“Ron..?” Harry whispered sadly in his ear, as he wrapped his arms around Ron and tangled there legs together.

“Yes?” Ron said, looking at him sweetly with his magnificent blue eyes.

“Do you…just-“ Harry let out a sad sigh. “Promise you won’t ever leave me..?”

Ron relaxed his eyes, smiling sweetly at his very sleepy boyfriend, who was buried in his chest.

“Promise I won’t ever leave you.”

“O-oh, alright…good-goodnight.. I- I love you..” Harry’s eyes drooped closed.

“I love you too, goodnight.”

(AAAAAHHH)

Sorry for my horrible writing btw, also I tried to make his nightmares due to his PTSD realistic, correct me if anything about that is wrong!

[pony-central]

Character Analysis - SMG4

Hello, my fellow SMG4 fans. This is the first character analysis I'm doing. Today, I'm gonna share my thoughts about the Meme Man himself, SMG4. 😊

SMG4 is a Meme Guardian who came from a USB flash drive that crashed into the Mushroom Kingdom. There, he had no idea where he was and what he was supposed to do. He used to be bitter enemies with SMG3, but over the course of the entire SMG4 series, the two of them seem to get along just fine with each other. So with that out of the way, let's begin the Character Analysis. 😊

SMG4 is the main protagonist of the series, as well as being the leader of the SMG4 Crew, and one of the four characters to have two new designs, with the others being SMG3, Boopkins and Meggy. He, along with Three, used to be Mario recolour. But after the events of The Lawsuit Arc, had a complete design overhaul to better match the merchandise of the entire SMG4 series.

SMG4 is a fair skinned individual who wears white overalls, brown shoes, a blue long sleeved shirt, a blue hat with his custom emblem and white gloves. He sports black hair and blue eyes to look sort of like his poster design.

In WOTFI 2023, SMG4 wore a spy outfit that consisted of a blue sleeveless jacket, a white long sleeved shirt, a blue bowtie, black pants and dark grey shoes. He also wore light grey gloves, had no hat and wore a Rizz Watch, which remained in the Neutral Zone for most of the special.

Throughout the course of the entire series, including the Showgrounds Saga, SMG4 has played the role of The Straight Man. He may seem like a relaxed guy at first, but sometimes he gets a bit ticked off whenever Mario sometimes got on his nerves.

An example was shown in the first video after WOTFI 2022 - Mario Screws in a Lightbulb. Here, we see Four getting mad because Mario wasn't keeping the ladder still. This is after SMG4 was redesigned into a "CocoMelon Looking Ass Design", as put best by SMG3.

The Perfect Video

Starting with "SMG4, Are You OK?", it was just a normal video, until SMG3 got popular because of his stream reaching a tonne of views. Here, Four was determined to beat Three. After the course of that video, Three's advice of "Quantity Over Quality" made Four go into a Sanity Slippage, where the Meme Man was trying to work on his "perfect video".

In "Mario Goes to Ohio", we see SMG4, still looking pretty normal, popping out of hi sroom when Mario tells him that they're going to Texas. SMG4, however, says that he can't go, as he's working on a special video. Mario, angry at this, says that making videos has never stopped the Meme Guardian. However, SMG4 says "Not this one. This one's gonna be different..." in a creepy tone, which means his sanity is slowly slipping away from him.

In "Mario Steals the Constitution", SMG4 is still in his room, looking rather ragged, still working on the video. He mutters a phrase that's familiar to all of us; "It's gonna be perfect. It's gonna be perfect. It's gonna be perfect". That line alone scares the audience as we become worried about him.

Then, we go to the "Mar10 Day" episode, and that's when shit really hits the fan. 😟

After Meggy knocks Wario into the WiFi router, the Internet gtts disconnected. And THAT is the final straw for SMG4. He bursts out of his room, screaming the line "SHUT UP!!! CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP?!?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!". As Wario looks up at him, Mario is just happy that Four finally came out of his room.

SMG4 then causes chaos at the party, highly frustrated at the others for causing so much noise. He screams at them to "GET OUT!!!!!" and shouts the mantra that everyone had dreaded since "Mario Steals the Constitution". The guests all leave in a panicked state, as SMG3 points out that everyone just wanted to celebrate Mario's special day, only for SMG4 to snap back and shout "NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND THE WORK I DO!!!". He then reconnected the WiFi router and tells everyone to leave him alone.

Mario: But, SMG4... The main event -

SMG4: JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!! 😡

Man, that cut us deep in the feels there.

During the announcement trailer for the IGBP movie, we see SMG4 looking more insane than ever. It felt like he was being controlled by a strange entity. Also note that he has a complete redesign overhaul here. The animation in this part was more fluid and smooth compared to the GMOD animation used beforehand.

The "It's Gotta Be Perfect" movie explains everything. It shows us that SMG4 was corrupted by a Demon-like keyboard that controlled him and forced him to finish his perfect video. By the end of the movie Four gets free from the keyboard's powers and escapes unharmed, along with SMG3.

After the events of the movie, which resulted in Peach's castle being permanently destroyed, SMG4 decided to make it up to everyone by building a new castle, which looks amazing by the way.

In War of the Fat Italians 2023, we see SMG4 and SMG3 working together as a team to get the Sussy Notebook back from Mario and Marty. It was successful and the ending was wholesome as heck.

And that's my character analysis. It's a bit of a long post, but you get the idea.

Character Analysis on SMG3 coming up next. 😊

[patterpea]

KinnPorsche Shifter AU Drabble

This sparked into my head after seeing @moerusai werewolf edit. It turned into a shifter fic rather than werewolf fic, but I still wanted to give credit to where my inspiration came from. I've linked the post at the end.

The woman in the corner of the room was gorgeous and clearly interested, and so Porsche had been sorely tempted to approach her. There was an uncomfortable itch that had buried itself into the muscles of his shoulders that, over the course of his shift, stretched unbearably down his spine. Any distraction would’ve been welcomed with open arms, but Porsche knew that it wouldn’t do a damn thing, no matter how enjoyable the sex would be.

Instead he waved off Boss, who was practically perched on his shoulder ogling the woman making eyes at Porsche.

“Careful, your drooling.” Porsche said with a smirk. Boss quickly pulled away, his cheeks flushing in the low light as he wiped the corners of his mouth. Porsche let out a light laugh as he threw a towel at Boss’s head.

“I’m going to take my break. Don’t let anyone go outside.” Porsche cautioned as he pointed a stern finger at the younger man’s face. Boss’s eyes lit up, and Porsche had to smother a groan at the man’s excitement.

“Wait! Are you, gonna, ya know…?” He looked around the bar for any obvious eavesdroppers. “…shift?”

“Boss, come on man, don’t make it weird.” Porsche said, his face slightly pinched. “You’ve seen me shift before, its not that big a deal.”

The glint in Boss’s eyes faded quickly, his hands fumbling with the towel Porsche had chucked at him.

“Sorry, I just… yeah, sorry man.” Boss apologised, his shoulders caving in around his form. Porsche let out a gust of breath, before shooting the man a sympathetic smile. Porsche found it a little weird when people got starry eyed about people shifting. It was like they were imagining themselves in a trashy romance novel, and that the shifter had become the sudden, and unexpected, love interest.

But at least it was marginally better than distain. It was worse in the past, especially in the time of his grandparents, where Humans views would swing violently in their extremes. In one moment the Public’s opinion would be: ‘Shifter’s are the descendant’s of God’s’, and in another it would be: ‘Shifter’s are a cursed race, a bane to humanity’; and back again just as sharply.

Shifters didn’t really care either way, they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

“It’s fine. I just don’t want to scare the shit out of someone. Again.” Porsche said as he and Boss shared a grin. It wasn’t Porsche’s fault that the new guy had tried to take his break 10 minutes early last week. The poor guy had been so shaken that Yok didn’t have it in her heart to reprimand him.

“Go, go. I’ll hold down the fort.” Boss said, his stance relaxing as he reached for a couple glasses under the counter. Porsche tapped his fingers along the bar-top as he made his way out. The itch on his back was starting to turn painful, but it was nothing Porsche couldn’t handle.

With his professional façade still squarely in place, he made his way through the clustered dancing throng where the smell of sweat, alcohol and hormones clogged up his nose. The pain suddenly took a sharp edge, like a thousand small prickling pin’s, somewhere under his shoulder blades.

Porsche burst out of the fire exit and gulped down breaths of air. The alleyway behind Hum’s bar wasn’t clean by any means, but it was a hell of a lot better than it was inside. The air was tainted by the ventilation of the buildings surrounding him, but he could faintly smell the familiar scent of the riverside in the air.

Around the corner, not far from where Porsche preferred to ‘entertain’ any of the ladies and gentlemen that caught his eye, were a few loose bricks lodged in the wall. Using his fingertips, Porsche pulled three out to reveal a small, snug hole. Porsche quickly undressed himself: Shoes, sock, shirt, trousers and underwear. With practised ease, he placed them inside of the hole and balanced his cigarettes and lighter on top of the bundle.

Crouching, completely naked, he slid the bricks back into place. Hiding his clothes like this was a little over kill, Porsche would easily admit, but some spiteful dicks found it hilarious to take off with a shifters clothes. And, well, there wasn’t anything illegal about a shifter going out and about in public in full shift, but it made people nervous.

Plus, trying to get on a packed train as a creature that was twice your normal size was just a pain in the ass.

Porsche stood up and stretched, his hands reaching up to the sky, and closed his eyes and shifted. It was hard to describe what shifting felt like to a human, it wasn’t a sensation that they could easily translated.

Imagine, if you will, that, for some reason, your elbow had made a grinding, crackling sound every time you moved it. It isn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and all day you’ve been stretching it out in various ways. And then it finally crack’s, giving off a much needed rush of relief alongside a slight pinch of pain. That’s what it feels like.

But instead of just your elbow, it was every joint in your body.

The persistent pain in his back took a backseat as he let the shift envelope him fully. His coat of fur tingled for a moment as it came in. It reminded Porsche of new hair growing in after a shave with a razor, sharp and itchy. He felt his chest rumble in glee as his coat warmed him, the cold night air that had felt sharp on his human skin suddenly softened into a pleasingly cool breeze that ruffled through his fur.

The senses were the last to change, and shifting into his form wasn’t so bad; the colours faded away until only dull blues, yellows and greys remained. The alleyway around him had been pitch black, but now he could see down to the end of the wall, the cracks up the bricks and the birds roosting in the gutters.

Smells were a little overwhelming to begin with; sounds too. But Porsche just shook his head, his ears flapping with the movement, as he allowed himself time to adjust. Standing there, now on all fours, he listened keenly to his surroundings.

He could hear the Hum Bar’s music play, muted by the walls only slightly. The vibrations from the bass danced under his paw’s. The sound of traffic rode on the winds throughout the alleyway, and a few scampering paws to his right where desperate rodents hid for their life. He could faintly hear the sound of the river, but he could smell it better than he could hear it.

But he couldn’t hear of anyone around him. No voices, no scuffed footsteps, no laughter.

He was alone.

Finally.

Porsche walked out from his hiding spot, but with his dark fur, his panther form made him look like a shadow come to life. The only thing a human would be able to spot in this dim light, were his sharp, golden eyes.

Porsche reached out his front limbs, claws out, and leisurely stretched out his back, his tail curling high behind him. His chest reached the floor with ease, as his spine curved up gracefully. Rising up on his forelegs he leant forward, and stretched his back legs as he tilted his head up.

His father used to fondly say: ‘All cats, big or small, have yoga tied to their genes’ every time he watched Porsche’s customary stretch after shifting.

Porsche slowly came to a suspiciously placed crate, he batted the corner of it playfully, testing its sturdiness. The circumstance’s that lead to Yok discovering his shifting capabilities hadn’t been the most… graceful.

The important lessons he learned that night were as followed:

1. Don’t drink and climb. Even with improved dark vision, that ledge is further away than you think.

2. He can’t land on his paws for shit when he’s drunk.

3. Alcohol does in fact transfer into your shifted form.

Yok had handled the fact that she almost got squished by a 300 pound animal remarkably well. But since that day a stack of sturdy crates, reinforced by metal bases screwed to the floor, were pressed up against the bar wall. Making a large, Lego looking stairway to the building’s outcrop. It was a little roof that covered up a small section of alleyway where the staff would go for a smoke.

It could hold his weight easily, and Porsche had idly wondered if Yok had the support beams checked as well, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. With little effort Porsche jumped on top of the meter high crates, climbing higher until he reached his perch.

Porsche walked leisurely over the roof, his movement’s smooth and slow. He settled down on to his stomach, paws tucked under his body, as he lay near the edge of the roof. Porchay liked to call this pose ‘loafing,’ something he had picked up from the internet no doubt. Porsche preferred tree’s, as was his natural tendency, and letting his long legs dangle either side of the branch.

But ‘loafing’ works well in a pinch.

Thinking about his younger brother made that pain in his shoulders grow again. The uncomfortable ache was more manageable in this form for some reason, but it was still there, lingering. Porsche knew it’s cause. A shifters mind and body were closely intertwined, more so than a Human’s. Human’s can get sick from stress, and they can get stressed from sickness. Shifter’s weren’t so different, but the stress manifested as pain rather than illness. It was something that both form’s could take equally.

Porchay would be heading off to University soon and Porsche couldn’t be more proud even if he tried. His friends were probably sick to death of him talking about his brother, but Porsche didn’t care. People needed to know how well Chay had done, he more than deserved his dues. Their childhood hadn’t been easy, far from it, but his little brother had beaten the odds. He had made it.

But as they were chatting the other night, Chay full of excited nerves and Porsche practically dancing around in glee, Chay revealed he had wanted to travel after Uni. Wanted to see the world a bit more, see all it had to offer. Porsche’s demeanour soured slightly as Chay went on. Chay going to Uni was one thing, but leaving their home? Leaving Thailand?

Leaving Porsche?

It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Chay would leave. He knew that Porchay may leave one day, but not so soon. Not now all the debts had been cleared and they where finally free of their Uncle’s bullshit.

Porsche had swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a subtle step back. He couldn’t control his reaction, or scent, and he hadn’t wanted Chay to catch on.

“You’ve never mentioned wanting to travel before, what’s bought this on?” Porsche had asked, his voice light and un-accusing. He didn’t want Chay to doubt his wants, but Porsche couldn’t help but be curious about the change.

Oddly, Chay’s cheeks flushed. “It’s just something I read somewhere. They said that if you want to write good music, you have to write what you know. An-And that, to experience more is to know more.”

Porsche ran through his brothers speech with a thoughtful frown.

“Wise words.” Porsche conceded, though he had no clue at all about how to make music. Porchay lit up at his brothers words, his cheeks still adorably flushed as he shot Porsche a toothy, earnest grin.

“Right? He sai– I mean, they said that’s what music is. Sharing your thoughts, your life, with a melody and a lyric. But you have to live that life first.”

Porsche caught his brothers slip, but he was still reeling from the fact Porchay was planning to travel in a couple of years. On his own.

Sure, Chay was a shifter like him, the danger he could encounter would be manageable. But to Porsche, he was still a little cub struggling with his big paws, walking with a stomp and muzzle twisted in adorable concentration.

So, Porsche now lay here, on a roof in the middle of the club district, and huffed morosely. Chay would be fine, but would Porsche? It was selfish, yes, but all his life it was Chay.

Chay, Chay Chay.

Protecting him, teaching him, growing with him.

Porsche pulled his paws from under his body, and tucked them underneath his chin. Panthers weren’t social creatures, but humans were. And that was what a shifter was, a being caught between two forms. And there were aspects of his panther self that manifest in his human form. His tendency to gravitate towards high places was one of his more notable quirks.

But it happened in reverse as well, his human need for people, for family, carried over to his four legged self. It meant he loved to spend his time curled around his people, making sure they were happy. That they were safe.

And one of the pillars, if not the pillar, of his family structure wanted to leave. Porsche’s tail wrapped around his body, the tip of his tail just barely reaching his face. Closing his eyes, he felt like he was in a private bubble as his silhouette became indistinguishable from his surroundings.

He’d let himself have this moment. Soon, he’d shift back and get on with the night. Then he’d go home to Chay and start planning out the young man’s possible ‘After Uni’ journey, with all the enthusiasm it deserves. But for now, he would just enjoy the quiet of the city’s night.

Porsche was only into 15 minutes of his break when he heard the rapid footfalls of humans coming his way. He was reluctant to bring himself out of this peaceful trance he had found himself in, so he didn’t move. Shrouded in darkness and high above their eye line, they probably wouldn’t even notice him, which is slightly ironic considering his size.

The footsteps got louder, they were a rush of frantic sprinting, and Porsche could now hear them shouting at each other. Swearing and stumbling, a box fell off somewhere down the warren that were the back alleys. Clattering and clambering, the humans got closer.

Porsche flicked an un-interested ear.

The men spilled out of one of the alleyways and spread out. Porsche relented, now slightly curious, and opened his eyes to peer down at the showdown in front of him. A man, with a head full of thick hair and a stylish dark suit stood closer to Hum Bar’s entrance. The men after him weren’t so fashionably inclined, but they held out knives and machetes. One even had a gun.

That caught Porsche’s attention. His head perked up, eyes still narrowed to avoid his bright yellow iris’s being spotted. Porsche wasn’t territorial over his space, not like other shifters could be. But he did have a tendency to be territorial over people. If Porsche knew no one he loved wasn’t in the club right now, the urge to protect wouldn’t be there.

But, Yok was in there. Boss was in there. Jom said he’d pop round sometime tonight.

So as the man in the suit crept closer to the fire exit of Hum bar, and the armed men surrounding him did the same, Porsche’s hackles began to rise. Swiftly and silently, he leapt down from the roof the long way around. Out of sight, and clearly focused on the tense stand off, no one saw him.

Porsche crept around the back of the armed men, before stepping out of the shadows towards them. The soft fur between the pads of his paw’s made his approach silent. Well, silent to a Human, but even a shifter would have a hard time hearing him.

With his head down low, he prowled forward. He could only see the back of the goon’s heads, the only face he could see belonged to that of man in the smart jacket. And he knew the very second the man caught sight of him.

His face went from ‘Fuck’ to ‘Oh. FUCK.’ in a blink. His thick eyebrows that had scrunched together in frustration suddenly flew up his forehead as his eyes rounded in shock. The man’s pale complexion only paled further, his lips a sickly peach hue, as his breath visibly stuttered in his chest.

The man with the gun, who stood in the middle of the gang, cackled with glee as he waved the gun carelessly about.

“Oh, is isn’t this beautiful boys? His highness is shitting himself.” The man jeered, as his crew laughed with him, suddenly high on the man’s fear. But the man didn’t take his eye’s off of Porsche, not even when the man levelled the gun at his head.

He knew who the real threat was here.

Clever man.

Porsche switched focus, eyes narrowing in on the man with the gun. Porsche sunk lower to the ground, as his claws appeared out of their sheaths. His breath slowed as he crept closer, ears flickering to catch the men’s cackles of the wall’s and dismiss them in kind.

Sitting back on his haunches, his shoulders wiggling to distribute his weight, he pounced.

Well, pounced was putting lightly. Porsche, in this form, stood at 5ft from shoulder to paw and 12ft from nose to tail. It was less of a ‘pounce’ and more of a ‘launch.’

He crashed into the oblivious man, a growl ripping from his throat as his claws sunk into the man’s back. The man let out a short scream before he slammed to the floor, his breath coming in struggling drags as Porsche put his full weight onto his front paws.

Ears back and fang’s flashing, he swiped a large paw to the crony next to him. The man stood there in shock, his knife still pointlessly aimed towards the suited man. Porsche caught his chest, the muscle in his shoulder rippling under his midnight fur. The man went flying across the floor, landing next to the wall in an anguished cry.

The other’s scrambled back, stumbling and falling as desperate curse’s left their mouths. Porsche turned on them and let out a roar that rattled his chest. His ears were flat, his mouth wide open and his tail swishing from side to side. As a warning, he lunged forward with two powerful swats of his paws.

The uninjured men stood in a semi circle around him on wobbly legs. One of them knelt down, eye’s never moving from Porsche’s form, to crouch by the injured man crumpled over by the wall. A fumbling hand twisting tight into the back of his jacket.

In front of Porsche was gun owner, though said gun had scattered off to the wayside. He was unconscious but alive, his shirt streaked with rips and tainted in blood.

A tense stalemate was drawn. Like a statue, Porsche held his ground with his head level to his shoulders, making his his whole back flat and streamlined. The only outwardly sign of agitation was the subtle, quick flicking of his tail.

Golden eyes twitched from one man, to another and then another, ready for any sign of movement.

With a yell of desperation a man to his right burst forward, his knife at the ready. Porsche whipped around, ready to take the man on but had to quickly scramble back as the man chucked his knife at him. It was a clumsy throw but he was close enough that it couldn’t really miss.

The knife caught the tip of his shoulder blade, but in this form it was as painful as paper cut. He let out a quiet t hiss at the sting. The man’s daring move allowed him to grab his unconscious cohorts arm, and, with adrenaline boosted strength, dragged him roughly across the ground.

Porsche quickly took back his ground, his feral yowl echoing against the walls. The men around him stank of fear, and also faintly of piss.

With a deep, threatening rumble that rose and fell with every breath, Porsche stalked forward. The men, not liking their chance’s, legged it down the multiple alleyways like rats in a sewer. They left with shouts and cut off swears, and Porsche listened intently as their scrambling feet grew fainter and fainter and the sounds of the city were all that could be heard.

Porsche let his shoulder’s sink down as the taught tension eased from his body. Raising his head he shook his body, from tip to tail, as a quick release of his pent up energy lingering in his muscles. Feeling remarkably better, Porsche suddenly heard soft steps behind him.

Porsche looked behind him and watched the man still under his piercing eyes. The man, who Porsche decided to nickname ‘Suit’s’, tried to shuffle around him, keeping close to the walls at hand. Porsche dragged his gaze from him to follow the man’s planned path. The abandoned gun lay a few strides away.

Shaking his head, Porsche made his way over to the weapon. To Suit’s credit he showed no outward sign of annoyance, but his eyelids did twitch in an amusing way. Porsche turned to head the man head on, and slowly raised his back right leg. With a slow quirk of the head and a panther’s version of a grin, Porsche placed his paw down on the weapon and kicked it backwards.

The weapon skidded across the floor once again until it hit the garbage container with a bang. Porsche plodded his ass down and sat in-between Suit’s and the gun, his long tail curling around him as he watched the man in amusement.

“Look.” The dishevelled man said, his palm’s open in caution. “Those men could come back any moment. I need that gun.”

Porsche held eye contact with the man before letting out a eye watering yawn. The man’s annoyance seemed to overwhelmed his caution as he shot the panther a glare. Porsche huffed out a rumble of a laugh, the sight of Suit’s thick eyebrows scrunching together wasn’t giving off the menacing aura he probably thought it did.

“Okay, how about a deal?” Suits offered. Porsche made a small noise of interest which made a shark like grin grow over the man’s face. “You protect me, here, until my men come to get me and I won’t go near the gun.”

Porsche gave him a levelled look before rolling his eyes with a huff. The man seemed to take Porsche’s dismissal in stride as he tipped his head to the side and looked the shifter up and down.

“How about payment? 10,000 baht? 20,000 baht? 50,000 baht?” Suits bargained, letting each offer hang in the air as he waited for Porsche to respond.

Porsche looked at the man incredulously. How exactly did he expect to pay him? Porsche wasn’t willing to shift back to swap bank details, this guy was fishy as hell. And seeing as that jacket hugged his form like a second skin, Porsche greatly doubted he had 50,000 baht on hand.

Porsche approached him, his head held high and ears pricked forward. The man tensed up again, his dark eyes glued to Porsche’s curious gaze. Porsche gave the man a sniff, the smell of sweat, fear and gunpowder radiated off of him. His natural scent was massively hidden under these dominating scents.

Porsche gave the man a once over whilst taking note of the posh jacket. Porsche was sure it was some shade of red, but right was now it seemed to be a murky dark green. A ring sat snuggly on the mans long fingers, and Porsche let out a little noise of intrigue. The man quickly curled his hands into a fist as he twisted it out of sight, but Porsche let it go. It was too gaudy for him.

The watch, however, gleaming under the alley’s dim lights, was more up Porsche’s alley. Not in style, but it seemed evidently expensive. Porsche nudged the man’s wrist with his soft nose, and when Suit’s didn’t get with the program, lightly head-butted his arm repeatedly.

Even though Porsche had been careful with his strength, Suit’s still got knocked off balance.

“The watch?” Suits asked, looking at Porsche intensely. Porsche nodded clearly, watching as a flicker of frustration shuttered over the man’s face. The panther was patient though, he could hear nothing but the man’s breath and rapid heart beat’s, so he felt reassured that they were safe for the moment.

The man let out a gruff sigh as he removed his watch and held it out for the him to take. Porsche softly took the accessory with his mouth. The mans arm twitched as his muzzle lightly brushed on his hand, but he stuck it out.

It took ball’s to have a hand so close to a strangers fangs.

Porsche stepped back, wanting to give Suits some space. The man’s breathing had begun to pick up, and it would look bad on Porsche if his ‘men’ came to get him only to find a 5ft shifter standing over his unconscious body.

The taste of the watch was disgusting on his tongue, the metal tang in his mouth grew as he carried it away. With a low, “bleugh” Porsche dropped it onto the floor.

“Do you even know how much that costs?” Suits asked as he sat down on a crate nearby. He leant against the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets and watched the shifter with a sneer.

Feeling petty, Porsche made sure to catch Suit’s eye before tapping the watch across the floor. The mans eye twitched.

Glee growing, Porsche hit the watch back to his other paw. And back again. Suit’s looked away, jaw tense and lips curled into a thin, tight line. Porsche continued with his playing, the sound of the watch rattling across the floor seemed loud in the city’s silence.

“Would you stop that?!” The man sniped. Porsche let out a huff of amusement, before reaching for the watch with his teeth. Secure in his jaw, he made his way back to his crate stairs, and with a few gentle bounds, he reached his spot on his roof and settled down.

“I paid you to protect me. How are you going to do that if you’re lazing about up there?” Suits called up, his eyes squinting as he tried to distinguish the dark creature against the night’s sky.

Porsche rolled onto his back, his view of the man now upside down. ‘Tough shit.’ His body language seemed to say.

“Fuck sake.” The man mumbled under his breath. Porsche wasn’t going to leave him, he had received payment for a job and he intended to see it through. But he didn’t trust Suit’s as far as he could throw him (which was pretty far, not to brag.) Porsche wanted a quick escape if the man changed his mind when back up arrived.

“You live around here kitten?” Suits asked, his annoyance still evident in his voice. Porsche let out low growl, not an answer but an acknowledgment of annoyance at the nickname.

“…Was that a yes?”

Porsche just chuffed, amused by the Human’s attempts to a question a panther. Who couldn’t speak.

Suits sighed and tilted his head back, his thick ruffled hair cushioning it against the brick wall. It was a shame, Porsche thought idly, he was a handsome man. He would of much preferred to have met the guy over the bar’s counter, made him a drink whilst enticing him into a chat with coy glances, but, oh well. Alley fights and shifted form’s it was.

They lapsed into silence. Porsche listened keenly for any footsteps but he also noted that Suit’s heartbeat had settled into a healthier rhythm. It was still high of course, he was being hunted and was a effortless leap away from a shifter twice his size. Porsche would find him odd if he wasn’t effected at all.

A few minutes later, a clatter of shoes came from the alley to his left. Porsche sat up, his fur standing on end and ready to jump down at moments notice. The steps got closer and closer-

“Sir?!”

A group of men fitted in black, smart suits dashed out of the alley entrance Porsche had been locked in on. Porsche’s new acquaintance stood up, the rigidity of his shoulder softening at the sight of his men. After realising that these Humans weren’t a threat to Suit’s, the shifter lay back down silently, careful to not draw attention, and watched as the guards swarmed the young man.

“Khun Kinn, Sir, are you alright?” The lead man asked as he quickly approached Suit’s. Or, Porsche supposed, Kinn.

“Yes. What took so long?” Kinn said, his voice but a growl. The men cowed slightly under his gaze before the straightened up, their chest’s puffing up.

“Our apologies, Sir, the alleyways made it harder for a safe extraction. We came as soon as we could.” One of the guards explained as they bowed slightly in apology. Kinn waved them off clearly not in the mood for forgiveness.

“The cars?”

“Parked by the riverside. If we take the alley over there, its only a 2 minute walk if we hurry.”

Kinn nodded in thought. He smoothed out his hair, straightened the lapels of his suit before walking towards the exit the man pointed towards. Immediately his guards stepped into formation, surrounding him in claustrophobic closeness.

“And don’t shoot the shifter, they… helped.” Kinn said reluctantly to the guard on his left.

“What shifter Khun Kinn?” A guard asked as he scanned the surrounding’s around them, hand resting securely on his gun. Kinn’s patience, now non-existent after this shit show of a night, stopped the group and whirled around to point to the panther lounging on the roof.

“Up ther- wait. Where did he go?”

Instead of a hulking form of the annoying shifter, and its soul rendering golden eyes, watching Kinn with an amused wave of it’s tail, there was nothing. Just a bare roof.

The shifter, longer then two of his guards put together, had just disappeared into the night without a sound.

Inspiration post, please give it some love. It's so well done.

Dear Anon who sent me an ask, I am sorry. I said it would be 3000 words, but it got away from me and turned into a 5000. I don’t know how this happen.

And as promised: @punchlove-blog . Thank you for your supportive messages, they make my day!

[yiplee]

Based on my last ask, can I request a fic where for some reason Clyde is hanging out with all the girls (Bebe, Wendy, whoever else you pick) and they hold/tie him down and tickle him as a group all over, from his feet to his neck? I think he deserves to be totally wrecked by the girls!

So I got another one of my genius ideas for this prompt, so this is gonna be a part 2 to this fic

(Lee!Clyde)/(Ler!like a bunch of the girls lol)

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

The girls all burst through the door with their bags in hand, chatting and laughing loudly over eachother as they flooded into Bebe’s bedroom.

Clyde came in after them, looking disheveled, whilst carrying half his body weight in shoes. He dropped the bags on the ground and plopped down on a pillow next to Bebe, while the girls clamored over their new sets of clothes.

Bebe turned to Clyde. “Aww, come on Clyde, the mall wasn’t that bad. Surely now you can have some fun with us?” She urged, gently nudging him by the shoulder.

“Bebe, you dragged me all the way through that mall, and then all the way to your house. I’m not gonna be all bubbly sunshiney rainbows for you now.” He groaned dramatically, resting his head in his hand.

The girls laughed. “Oh, nonsense! We already know you’re way more fun than your lame guy friends.” Wendy added.

“Yeah Clyde, I mean, what about that time you got your nails painted?” Nichole mentioned, getting a laugh from a few other girls.

“I said to never speak of that again.” Clyde groaned, covering his face in his hands in embarrassment.

“Oh, come on Clyde! If you don’t lighten up, we’ll just have to make you!” Bebe said, smirking to the other girls, who quickly understood, and nodded with the same evil look in their eyes.

Clyde knew what that look meant. He hardly had any time to say “Wait”, before the girls had surrounded him and rendered him immobile.

“Girls, come on, don’t do thi-” Clyde was interrupted by his own little squeak as Bebe’s nails started off on his ribs. Her fingers froze and they all went silent for a moment.

There was a collective “awww” from the girls. “Oh my gosh, was that a squeak? Bebe, you’ve got one adorable boytoy.” Nichole cooed.

“I-It wasn’t a squ-EEEK!!” Clyde squealed, as the girls began scribbling their freshly-painted nails all across his midsection.

Wendy was digging into his armpits while Nichole and Bebe were skittering across either side of his ribs, with Red focusing on his belly.

Clyde’s shrieks were high enough to break glass as his squealy, shrill laughter filled the room in a matter of seconds.

“O. M. G. Bebe! Why did you not tell us Clyde was SO ticklish?!” Wendy said, a bit astonished by the squealing, squirming boy in the middle.

“Oh yeah, he’s like, earth-shatteringly ticklish.” Bebe laughed, as she continued scribbling her nails up and down Clyde’s sides, making his shrieks jump up an octave.

“W-WAHAHAHAIT GIHIHIRLS PLEHEHEASE!! I CAHAHANT TAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!” Clyde shrieked, his voice embarrassingly high as he squirmed uselessly against the many hands going to town on his ticklish flesh.

Rather than mercy, he got another big “awwww!” From the girls, who merely continued mercilessly wrecking him with tickles.

Bebe moved her hands up, tickling Clyde’s neck and under his chin, brushing her nails across his ears and past the sides of his cheeks. “Aww, well aren’t you just too ticklish for your own good? Yes you are!” She teased, cooing playfully at him.

“BEHEHEHEBE PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Clyde’s face reddened deeply from her teases as his shoulders scrunched up from her unbearably light tickles.

“Please what? Please tickle you more? Well okay, if you say so!” Bebe chuckled, digging back into his sides, getting another loud shriek from the boy.

“THAHAHAHATS NOT WHAHAHAT I MEAHAHAHANT!! GIHIHIRLS STAHAHAHAP!!” Clyde pleaded, tears pricking the edges of his eyes as the girls’ hands spidered all across him.

“Alright, alright.” Bebe relented, releasing him from her hold as the other girls followed suit. Clyde laid on the ground, fighting for breath, as he recovered.

“Jeez Clyde, you’re way too ticklish to be this dramatic.” Bebe teased, looking down fondly at the blushing boy.

“Shut..your..mouth..” Clyde’s words were a faint wheeze of breath as he sunk in tiredness.

“Ohoho..” Nichole gave Bebe a look as if they should correct that, but she shook her head.

“I’ll allow it.” She said with a smile as she folded a loose curl behind Clyde’s ear, looking down at him fondly.

[seaah]

omg diwali this year

(spoiler alert: SUPER LONG POST!! read if you have the time)

in case you didn't know, I celebrate diwali, which is a Hindu festival where you light diyas (oil lamps), make rangolis (patterns with colorful powder outside your house) and burst firecrackers! (which many don't do due to the pollution of it, but I still do :P) the backstory of which is a long story so if ya wanna know more bout it just ask me :)  

ANYWAYS this years diwali in particular was super exhausting :’D it was on sunday, and i woke up at fudging 6 AM because my father wanted to take us (my sis and I) on a mountain climb -.- to be fair, it did have steps. But it was SO tiring!! Im not a morning person, so climbing 670 steps up a mountain at 8 AM was definitely not the best way to start of my day >:(

when we got back down through the pathway back to our parking spot, we were ofc SUPER hungry, and there was a lil snack shack near where we parked, so we went to get some food. There were pictures of burgers on a chart hanging from the shack, so we asked for some, but they only served grilled chicken. now, I’m NOT vegetarian or vegan, but on diwali, you’re only supposed to eat vegetarian food. so we just got some cup noodles. but MAN i coulda killed for a chicken burger :(

we got back in the car, and went to buy some shoes, because my father INSISTS that we jog every morning at 6:30 AM, EVEN THOUGH we exercise every evening, and we need jogging shoes for it. again, NOT a morning person, so this is awful :( but if there’s one thing you gotta know my father, is that he’s stubborn as FUDGE so i just hafta do it -.- anyways, we get the shoes, and on the way back i hit my head on a sign. instead of asking if i was okay my father yells at me for being an incompetent person and points out every flaw about me -.- i hear this all the time but it still hurts each time :(

we go back home and by the time we reach its 2 PM. i was like “FUDGE” because we had guests coming over at 12, so we’re like two hours late! but luckily, they’re not here yet, so we have time to get ready :D

like i said, we literally went up a mountain so we just rested for half an hour. Idk what my sis did but i read lackadaisy. Anyways its 2:30 PM and my sis went for a shower. and not 5 MINS later, the guests show up. I mean, we are close with these people, and their son is a great friend of ours, so of course i was happy, but i hadn’t even showered yet TwT anyways, i play uno with this guy while my sis showers and at 3 she’s ready, so i go to shampoo my hair. i ‘m done by 3:30 PM tryna pull myself together and then i find out they’re all done eating TwT so i just eat by myself (my mom makes KILLER veg biriyani so its not like the food was bad or anything)

when i’m done, the three of us are assigned to make a rangoli (two actually, i'll explain) since we moved last year and the front space of our new flat isn’t too big, our friend and my sis make the main rangoli INSIDE our house, while i made essentially a mini rangoli outside our flat BY MYSELF WITH NO HELP. it was really exhausting but i managed to finish it by 6 PM which was my mothers given deadline (the reason no one else helped was because my mother genuinely did the most work out of us and the rest of the adults were sleeping -.-) so after we’re done, my sis and i wear our ghagras (traditional dress) and basically get ready for the upcoming PHOTOSHOOT (my mother LOVES taking photos and usually takes multiple so this is how i like to term it) when we’re done, we perform the puja (another tradition of diwali) and then we go outside to burst the firecrackers! all by 7 PM B)

we didn’t have as many crackers as last year so it only lasted about an hour, but it was sooooo much fun! there were SO many people outside also bursting crackers, and it was really cool to see! I lit “bomb” like crackers for the first time this year, while also lighting crackers like sparklers, rockets, flower pots, pili crackers, pop-pops, and others too! Legitimately so much fun :D but i couldn’t help thinking about last year, where i got to celebrate with many of my friends, and celebrations lasting well into 9:30 PM. laughing and joking while lighting crackers is the main reason why this holiday remains my favourite, nothing can top that. still had a good time regardless :)

we’re done by 8 PM and we head home. we play games like uno and astro party with our friend again till dinnertime (same thing as lunch, along with vadas and subji) another uncle also had come along while we were bursting firecrackers and gifted us a box of cream buns (which, btw, were SUPER DELISH and made me really fancy XD) we enjoy some more till its 10 PM and our friend’s gotta go :( we say goodbye to them and go back home (its common to go outside with guests to see them off) we change into nightclothes and IMMEDIATELY start using our devices till 11:30 PM XD GOD did i need that tho. then we brush our teeth and go to bed at 12 AM (dw, i woke up at like 8 AM the next day so i got sufficient sleep :>)

and that was my diwali! Despite all the stress, i enjoyed very much and continues to be my no 1 holiday :D i hope ya’ll enjoyed reading and maybe even learned a lil something about different cultures along the way :) thx for reading, and have a nice day/night! love ya’ll <3

[reflections-of-mobius]

Type: Plot Progression | EVENT: "There One Moment, Gone the Next" Universe: Sandstorm Location: Meteo-Tech Tower/Chemical Plant Island

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five]

A clawed hand slashing right. A board crashing left. Everything had devolved into chaos and split-second decisions.- Just how Bless liked it, honestly.

"BRING IT ON!" His roar was lost in the clang of metal on metal. Jet's gang had jumped into the fray as the robots descended. Everything was a blur of metal, wires, sparks, and fur. Bless spun, his black claws slicing through several attackers at once. Oil and metal shreds went flying, cutting through their compatriots.

Amy's hammer went crashing into a group of 'bots- only for a new one to reappear in her hand. Her usually kind, cheerful eyes were narrowed. Tails had released a swarm of her specially-made nanobots- clouding the attacking forces' optics. Jet's board nearly smacked into Bless' face. He just barely managed to dodge, sliding into a roll moments before the metal tips of the Extreme Gear would have cut into his face.

While on his back- he kicked up. The spiked soles of his shoes cut into the underside of the board, sparks and wires flying. Jet cried out as his board went careening. Bless didn't bother to see where the bird landed, a streak of green that almost-instantly vanished from his vision.

He didn't wait. Another three metallic attackers were crushed into sheets with the toss of a crumpled-mess of one of Amy's victims.

Node went spinning by- their body unfurling last-second to let their skates crash into a chassis. Bless smirked. He took off forward, arms outstretching.

P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P-

His arm swung out. Bless' fangs grit tightly together. Fire suddenly sparked in his nerves. These things were definitely a higher grade-

WHAM!

"BLESS!" His eyes had gone cross- the light still glimmering, but hazy as the werehog's body crumpled to the ground. Jet hovered above the dispatched mobian, his board crumpled around the end- in a shape that could neatly be related to Bless' head. "YOU BASTARD!"

"Oh, shut up." Jet's voice was nearly lost in the cacophany.

Bless tried to stand. Everything was spinning. He could taste iron on his tongue- an eye squeezing shut. Too bright.-

Jet didn't have time to react before the smaller mobian was launching at him.

"YOU SONOVA BITCH!!"

They'd jumped, their skates activating mid-air- the smallest push of the engine allowing them to kick with far more speed and strength than they could naturally muster. The metal sole of their left skate smacked neatly into Jet's chest- a fist colliding not a second later with his beak.

Blood splattered across Node's fist from the impact. Jet went soaring- his board slashing sideways. Node grabbed the edge before it could hit their stumbling ally.

"I gotcha!" They tossed the messed-up board to Bless, before jumping back into the fight.

"Thanks!" He hopped on the board. The fabric that the rider was meant to stand on ripped the instant he got on- but at the moment, he didn't care. He could reimburse Jet later... Maybe.

Bless soared back into the conflict, bright-green light bursting from the back of his board. Everything fell back into a steady rhythm- dodge, weave, hit with the board, punch, weave- his mind was in overdrive, thoughts a million miles faster than his body. It was all a blur of metal, sparks, wires, oil, fur, feathers...

"GUYS!" He spotted a break in the madness. A hole between enemies- leading towards a pathway down the right side... "THERE!"

"SONIC-!" Node's voice came too late. Bless was halfway through a turn, emerald hues just catching the edge. A 'bot had somehow snuck through his hyper-awareness... And it had a barrel- far bigger than that of its compatriots- leveled at him.

He couldn't move fast enough.

Cream-yellow fur speckled crimson blocked his view.

BZZZZZZT!-

Node's body went crashing to the ground.

The smell of burnt fur, skin, and boiling blood filled the air.

"NODE-!" One of the robot's metallic peds slammed into their body. There was an audible CRACK!, the mobian's body going limp. Blood splattered the robot's ped. Bless went stock-still.

"...node?..." There was no response. Their chest wasn't rising.

The Babylon Rogues slowly stepped back. More barrels were leveled, but all he could see- all Bless could wrap his head around... Was the broken body of his partner, now laying on the floor of the tower... The fur around their left thigh burnt to black, several new cuts on their back leaking still-warm life.

It was beginning to pool.

"Let's get outta here-" Jet hurriedly whispered to Wave and Storm.

"NODE!" Amy and Inari's voices filled the air.

Bless could only hear the roaring of blood in his ears. Another mechanical frame was beginning to lower. It was less than a foot from the corpse.

[]

"Hey, what's your name?"

"...Node." They had shuffled their foot- he found it rather funny, at the time.

...

"I- Sonic, I can see so much more, now- there's so many...so many memories- it's all me- I can't--"

"Don't worry, I've got you." Holding them close, smiling that soft smile of his- he realized in that moment that he didn't like hearing their voice twisted in fear. "Just hold onto me. I'm here-- you're here. I'm here...I've got you."

...

"I love you!" They'd laughed for a moment- until Bless held out a small carving of a heart, a smile on his muzzle.

"...I....really?" It had made his heart sink in his chest- but he refused to let it show, his smile forever on his face. "....I....love you, too, Bless."

...

"...Bless..." Their voice, so full of worry as he held them close. He'd been gently brushing their fur with his hand, claws dancing gently along the follicles. "...if- I..if another one happens.....I'm gonna die."

"No." He'd been so insistent. "You won't. You wanna know why?"

"....why?"

"Because I'm gonna keep you safe, no matter what."

[]

"STAY THE HELL AWAY!!!"

The entire tower rumbled, metal groaned and creaked- before the ground split open. The faint glow of Bless' eyes had gone wild- green overtaking white, a bright, brilliant light that burned, flowing out of him. No.-- NO.

Tears fell freely from his eyes. His mouth was wide-open in a silent scream. Bloodied cream-yellow, torn dark gray-- the smell of blood and burnt flesh.

Green shot from the depths of the facility. Vines as thick as trees burst through the floor, twisting metal this way and that. Bless didn't care. He jumped- claws and fangs bared for all the world to see as he landed on his first victim. The 'bot that had attacked Node- had killed them- would be allowed no mercy. All around him, the vines were stretching and winding- smashing straight through the 'bots that he could barely scratch.

Unbeknownst to Bless, his eyes had gone almost pure-light-green, emerald only at the edges, spiraling towards white the closer it got to the center. The army of metal minions were being ripped to shreds, sparks landing on the plants and setting them aflame. Bless only roared louder.

The pain in his chest- the pain throughout his very being- burned. It was an inferno in his soul, only one thing on his mind.

"Because I'm gonna keep you safe."

The flaming vines were growing faster than the fire could burn. Bless smashed into the 'bot that had shot Node- his claws almost snapping as they tore through material that should have been too strong. The glow of the ring in his chest was practically its own blaze, no longer pulsing as his screams of rage shook the building.

Even Amy and Inari almost froze. That wasn't just rage- it was grief. Black and grisly, swallowing his mind whole. He couldn't see- couldn't feel, anything beyond all-encompassing red and violence. His teeth sank into something- he could feel a few crack as they tried to puncture a material on par with them- but he didn't stop. His fangs tore into metal and wire, tasting acrid oil as it spilled into his mouth.

His scream was lost, his own ears deaf to all but the roaring. The blood pumping, the feeling just underneath- like rippling veins, nerves running deeper, far, far deeper than he could reach- responding to his violence, to his pain and his loss.

The vines had smashed all of the 'bots that hadn't been obliterated already together, crushing them into a massive pile. Pricks as sharp as iron dug into metal, tiny offshoots burrowing into wire and circuit alike. The 'bots were ripped apart from the inside.

Bless fell as the carnage raged around him. His soles cut into the tower's floor. Spikes and vines were still growing out of control, the faintest tinges of green blazing at the edges of his claws. He took a step forward- another. The robots that tried to round, to mount an offensive- were smashed by the rampaging flora.

Each step felt like an eternity. An endless, abysmal expanse separating him from the body of his beloved.

But, even that had to end.

He stepped up to the body. The smell of burnt hair and flesh made his nose run, his eyes water all the more.

"INT-" The robot was crushed by a falling shoot of blossoming green. Bless wavered. His vision blurred. His knees felt weak. He collapsed to them, emerald slowly fading back into view. The glow surrounding his body began to flicker and die- the ring in his chest returning to a pace that was slow for the werehog.

"....Node..."

All around him, sparks flew, oil drizzled like rain. The sound of snapping circuitry was lost on him. Amy and Inari were silent, their eyes flicking towards the destruction all around them. The once glowing factory floor had been flooded with plantlife- from blossoming flowers to threading vines to soaring tree trunks, each having impaled a robot- the oil drizzling down green and brown. The lights overhead flickered- several ceiling panels having come loose and fallen, green strings hanging from ruined tiles. Bless' voice failed him, his mouth opening mutely. Strings of saliva snapped between his fangs.

I'm gonna keep you safe.

Smoke rose from where they'd been shot- in the side, their tank-top incinerated, the fur all along their left side burnt to ash. Their eyes were closed, their mouth still open in an eternal, pained cry.

No matter what.

Soft sobs filled the ruined tower floor.

[isobelfree]

I’m working on revising my novel right now, and I found this one-shot I’d written from the perspective of Emmy, a character that my main character Julie shared a kiss with before retreating back into the closet. It’s the only scene I’ve ever written from a non-Julie perspective. You don’t really need context for it; I think it stands well on its own.

-

To date, I have fallen for eight straight girls, from Amy when I was thirteen to Tess last year, but it seems as if it’s the ninth that’ll really fuck me up.

There’s just something different about Julie.

I sit on the edge of her bed as she gets ready to go out; we’re planning on hitting up the new gay bar that just opened downtown, and despite my best efforts to convince her that she’s going a bit overboard, she’s convinced she’s got to look nice. “We haven’t gone out in forever, so I want to actually put some effort in, Emmy,” she says as she dusts blush over her cheeks.

“Who are you trying to impress?” I wonder out loud, looking down at my own outfit; I’m in a short-sleeved button down that I dug out of the back of my closet and my second-best pair of black jeans. (Not even my best! That’s how little I care!) “It’s a gay bar, there aren’t gonna be straight guys there.”

Julie shrugs. “Don’t you want to try and pick someone up tonight?”

“I don’t have to try, Jules. If I want to pick someone up, I will.” It’s true, really; you don’t need to try very hard to snag a desperate, horny baby gay at one of these joints. If I really wanted to, if my mind wasn’t otherwise, stubbornly, infuriatingly full of someone else, I could be between the thighs of a decently cute girl by midnight tonight, could be making her moan against my sheets and maybe even say my name, if she remembered it.

It’s not happening tonight, though. I know that much. Not with this girl refusing to leave my brain.

Julie snorts. “Not with that attitude. Or that shirt.”

“What’s wrong with this shirt?” I look down at the shirt, light blue with white polka dots.

Julie shrugs. “Nothing. It’s fine. I just know it’s not your best one. You’ve gotta dress to impress, my friend. And to do that, you gotta show yourself off a bit.” She runs her hands down over her waist to her hips in an exaggerated motion, and bursts out laughing as she finishes up her makeup. She really does look nice, in a long-sleeved dress that wraps and clings. I blush as I look at her and distract myself with my phone.

This is going to be a long night.

The plan is to meet the guys at their apartment. It’s a short walk to their place but Julie complains for about half the time about how much her feet hurt in her ridiculous heels. “Why did you even wear those?” I ask her, glancing down at my Converse – my newest pair (red instead of black). Much more sensible

“We’ve been over this,” she says, wincing with every step as the shoes dig into a blister on her heel. “I wanted to look nice.”

“Well, you don’t need dumb shoes to look nice,” I say. “You look nice anyway. Like, usually. Like you usually look nice.”

She quirks a smile at me. “Thanks, I guess,” she says, laughing a bit, breathy in the cool March air. I feel something buzz in my stomach, feel a warmth flood my face, something stupid and hopeful and easy to ignore.

We get to Dex and Cal’s fourteenth-floor apartment overlooking the train tracks (not the nicest locale, but their rent here is dirt-cheap). I knock on the door as Julie takes the heels off. “What?” she says to the eyebrow I raise at her. “I’m just taking a break!”

Cal opens the door, and he stares me down, and I stare him down, and it’s like we’re in some sort of Wild West-style standoff and whoever looks away first is the one to admit defeat.

“One of us is going to have to change,” I say finally.

Julie, beside me, is giggling uncontrollably.

Cal and I are wearing the exact same shirt.

“I can’t believe this,” I say as we walk in, shaking my head. “Where did you get this? Do we shop at the same places? Unacceptable.”

“Um, the American Eagle men’s section?” Cal says.

“How dare you!” I say. “You know that’s my favourite place to shop!”

“You can’t claim a whole store, Emmy! Especially when it’s the men’s section. If anyone should have the right to claim it, it should be me!”

“Oh, sorry, are we gendering clothing now? I thought everyone was free to wear whatever they wanted –

“Don’t blame me for gendering clothes, that’s American Eagle’s fault!”

“Guys!” Dex shouts, and we both cut off. “Neither of you are allowed to change, because this is the funniest thing that has happened to us since the Christmas party.”

“Hey!” I cry as all three of them start to laugh. “I thought we agreed to never talk about that again!”

“I’m sorry Em,” Julie says, breathy in between laughs. “But that stocking –”

“And the eggnog!” Cal giggles. “When she started singing and it came out all over –”

“Oh my god, and remember the candles?” Dex cries, and the laughter starts all over again.

“I hate all of you,” I say as I head out of the apartment and flip them off over my shoulder.

The bar is called New Science, which is a name we spend about four minutes trying to decipher before going inside. “What’s the old science?” Cal wonders as we stand there shivering, staring up at the neon sign, lit up in blue and green and orange.

“Maybe we aren’t supposed to know,” Julie says. She’s got a couple drinks in her already, and when Julie gets drunk she gets real philosophical. I mean, sober me can tell it’s all nonsense, but Drunk Emmy eats that shit up.

“You’re so right,” Dex says.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” I decide, heading inside and grabbing Julie’s hand to pull her with me, a motion that’s less necessary and more gratuitous than I’d like to admit. For a moment I focus on the feeling of her hand, fingers cold but palm warm where it touches mine, her skin soft and smelling like the lavender hand cream she uses. But it only lasts a moment, not much longer than a blink, and she pulls her hand away and laughs and calls out for me to come in before I have a chance to memorize her.

For the life of me, I cannot remember if this girl’s name is Catherine or Cassidy. Quite frankly, even knowing that it starts with a C-A is quite a feat for someone with as many beers in her stomach as me.

She’s cute in the vaguely-tomboyish, kind-of-pretentious way a lot of lesbians around here are when they first come out; she’s in a backwards snapback and a loose tank top, bites her lip a lot in a way she probably thinks is endearing. We’ve been dancing and making out for half an hour or so and the only things I’ve managed to learn about her are the first syllable of her name and her drink of choice (vodka cran). Oh, and that she likes to bite my lip as well as her own. That might be fun later, I guess.

Catherine/Cassidy is trying to tell me something, shouting over the pounding sound of the Chainsmokers, but I don’t hear her; I’m scanning the crowd for Julie, realizing that I’d lost track of her.

“Sorry,” I yell as I start pushing through the crowd, feeling sweaty skin and spandex stick to me as I make my way. It’s not a big place, but the flashing lights that spin make the room feel like it’s moving; I feel unmoored, like I can’t quite orient myself.

A hand on my arm makes me jump. I spin around to find Julie, holding an empty plastic cup. “There you are!” she cries. “I didn’t know where you went!”

“I was dancing with someone,” I say, looking back at where I left Catherine/Cassidy, but she’s lost in the sea of equally generic faces. “Didn’t quite get her name but I know it started with a C-A.”

“Was she cute?”

“Eh,” I shrug. “Wanna go and get some air?”

Julie nods and follows me to the side door of the place, which is propped open with someone’s shoe. I step out into the alley and hug my arms close to me. It smells like frost and cigarettes out here.

Julie sighs, kicking at a piece of gravel. “You were wrong about the straight guys,” she says. “There are lots of them here. But spoiler alert, they’re the exact same as they are in regular clubs.”

“Bummer,” I offer, leaning back against a dumpster.

She smiles and perches next to me. “You did try to tell me I wouldn’t find any winners here. Should’ve believed you.”

“Jules, when will you learn that you should always believe me?” I say, shaking my head.

She laughs and knocks her shoulder against mine. I look down at how close her hand is and sigh. It isn’t fair, and it doesn’t matter that it’s not fair, because plenty of things aren’t fair, and it doesn’t meant they wouldn’t be perfect.

I look up and see her face too close to mine; her breath smells like vodka, warm against my face. “Remember when we made out in the kitchen?” she says, low, almost a murmur. She’s grinning.

I blush because of course I remember, couldn’t possibly forget that sunny afternoon in our empty apartment if I tried; the memories are stubborn and stuck, not going anywhere. “Yeah, I remember,” I tell her, inching slightly away. “What about it?”

Julie shrugs. “I don’t know. Just reminiscing.” Her face is still close to mine, and she looks down at my lips, and it would be easier than breathing just to lean down and kiss her and taste the vodka on her mouth and for a moment everything would be perfect. But it isn’t perfect; we’re sitting on a dumpster in a cold alley and I’m a fucking pathetic shmuck and Julie is straight (or at least, she’s convinced herself that she is, and who am I to tell her she isn’t?).

So I sigh, long and shuddering, and slide down till my feet are solid on the cigarette-strewn ground. “Where are you going?” Julie asks me. She looks a bit more dishevelled now than she did when we left our place, lipstick half-rubbed off, but somehow in the weak moonlight of the alley she still looks perfect, and that’s the hardest part of all.

“Back inside,” I say, pulling open the heavy side door of the club. “Gonna try and find that girl.”

I find Catherine/Cassidy near the DJ booth, sipping another vodka cran and pouting to some tall skinny butch; she lights up when she sees me. I feel a brief twinge of guilt as I pull her back onto the dance floor, but it’s only brief, and I down a couple more beers to try and cover up the feeling. I try and lose myself completely in this girl, her scent of sweat and something minty, her hands warm on my face as we kiss, the music pulsing around us like a heartbeat. Later that night when she asks where we’ll go, I say her place, because I can’t be anywhere Julie is, otherwise the spell will be broken. And it works, because by the time I’m in this stranger’s bed, moonlight coming in through the small window of her basement apartment, I’m not thinking of Julie at all.

[thekingslover]

“Come on, stud,” she says to Dean, tugging on his wrist. “I choose you tonight.”

Dean flashes her his sharpest smile, playboy facade in place. It comes back on instinct more than desire. He’s played this role before. He’s stood in these same shoes so many times they barely have any sole left.

The neon beer signs are too bright, blinding against the dim overhead lights in the bar. The beer on the counter before him is full, recently ordered, and cold in his hand. The condensation puddles along his fingers, catching in the dip around his ring.

How easy it would be to follow her daisy dukes and cowboy boots out to the parking lot. So easy to brush the hair back from her bare shoulders and kiss her neck. Easy to pretend that’s all he needs. At one point in his life, it was.

But that had been before.

She’s too young for him, in both age and spirit. That’s only the start of the list of wrong things.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean says, as gently as he can. She has a devilish look that promises a good time, and she’s generous to offer that time to Dean. It’s not her fault Dean’s already been claimed body and soul. “I hung up my spurs a long time ago.”

“Oh?” Her bottom lip pushes out, a tempting lure even to a married man. Dean gives her credit, but that’s all she’s getting.

He dips his head toward a tall table against the wall. Cas has both elbows on the tabletop, face scrunched as he taps his thumbs over a cell phone. Candy Crush has become his latest foe to vanquish, last on the list after a slew of demons, Lucifer, and God himself.

Daisy Dukes has no idea how outmatched she is. “That guy?”

Dean, not for the first time, tries to see Cas the way the rest of the world must - nerdy guy in an ill-fitting suit, wrapped in an old overcoat. Frowning at the phone, he has a little line between his brow. Must be a tough level.

But even as he’s trying to see Cas as she does, he knows he’s coming up short. He can’t look at Cas and not see the coat he carried around in his car for a year, the one he desperately searched for in the wilds of Purgatory. Or the blue tie that Dean’s shown him how to put on straight enough times now that he knows Cas does it wrong on purpose. Or the intensity of those eyes, smiting candy squares now, that when focused on Dean, make the rest of the world disappear. Or the love that floods out of him so deeply that Dean, drowning, almost believes he deserves it.

“That’s the love of my life,” Dean tells Daisy Dukes.

Her fingers unhook from Dean’s wrist, but she continues to stand there, looking at Cas and then at him. “That guy.”

Dean makes a point to scratch his chin with his left hand, flashing his wedding ring. She’s probably already seen. Probably wouldn’t matter much, most times, in a place like this.

“I’d marry him again tomorrow if he wanted,” Dean says.

She hums. Her hands find her hips and she searches his face. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but after a moment, her smile softens and her shoulders slump.

“Lucky,” she says and wanders off. It doesn’t take her long to find another guy at the bar. With the way this one leans into her, she’s found someone more willing.

Dean plucks the beer from the counter and heads back to the table. He places it with a thunk in front of Cas. Cas moves a couple more candy pieces and then turns off the screen.

“You win, angel?” Dean asks. He takes a swig from his own beer which he left behind to refill Cas. It’s warm now, but he swallows it down.

“They keep adding new levels.” Cas glares at where he’s placed the phone, screen down on the corner of the table. “I’m beginning to think victory is unobtainable.”

“Come on, Cas,” Dean teases. His smile is easy, the playboy facade long gone. “You’re no quitter.”

Fire burns hot in Cas’s eyes. If he had any angel mojo left, the phone no doubt would burst into flames. “I will win.” He says it like a vow, with the same intensity he gave fighting monsters, or when he took Dean’s hand in front of a judge and promised to love him beyond even death.

“Cas,” Dean says, and Cas looks up. The fire dims a little, but only so love can replace it.

“Yes, Dean?”

Now that he has Cas’s full attention, Dean hesitates. What seemed like a good idea a moment ago, he now worries Cas won’t like.

Cas, patient always for Dean, maybe too much, sits and waits. Dean knows he’ll wait all night.

Dean won’t make him do that again. “I was thinking...”

Cas starts to smile. “A dangerous prospect.” He’s teasing, and it takes the edge off. He probably did that on purpose. He knows Dean sometimes better than Dean knows himself.

Dean winks at first, returning the smile, but then he leans forward and takes Cas’s hands in his. He wants him to know he’s serious.

“Dean?”

“Marry me,” Dean says.

“Dean.” Cas blinks. “We are already married.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but...” They married in a rush, speeding to the Courthouse five minutes after Dean had asked the last time. Sam sat in the back in his pajamas. Dean wore a Zeppelin t-shirt. It had been a whirlwind and perfect but. But. “I kinda want to do it right, you know? With everyone there.”

Cas watches him, silent for a heartbeat and two. Then he starts to smile again, that quiet, secret smile he shares a lot with Dean, and Dean knows he has him.

“We could get new suits,” Dean says. “Have a big party.”

“I would like that, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. “Yes,” he says, a vow.

At the door, Daisy Dukes is pulling Mr. Willing into the parking lot. He’s got a smile like he won the lottery. For tonight, maybe he has.

But Dean? Here with Cas, Dean hits the jackpot everyday.

“I love you, Cas.” The words come so easily, Dean can’t believe he ever had trouble saying them.

Cas brings Dean’s hand to his mouth. He kisses each knuckle and then the ring. “And I, you.”

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳who cursed the bludger? ♡

in which the reader's dominant hand is injured badly after a rogue bludger slams into it and none other than fred weasley is behind it. who cursed the bludger?

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ± 2k

tw: serious injury, a little bit of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. penny clearwater

who cursed the bludger?

y/n was currently draped lazily over her broomstick, haven given up trying to teach penelope clearwater how to fly. said prefect was on the grass, smirking as y/n embarrassedly looked around.

"penny that's not ok to ask!"

"fine, fine," she pondered for a moment, "hey, what's up with you and fred weasley, huh?"

"nothing at all," y/n answered a little too quick for penny's liking.

"c'mon, y/n, you're younger than me, i should know all that happens. you two are very...flirty."

"yeah well, my dear pennysylvania, we have flirty personalities. duh."

"no, you don't."

"okay, i don't. he does."

"but he seems like he means it."

"of course he means it? he says it in a joking way? y'know, he means it as a joke."

"hmm, nope, i don't think so, y/n. he's looking your way right now."

"i'm probably blocking the space, let's move outta the way."

"you're not gonna play with them?"

"already play in matches, why now? let's chat."

fred was silently eavesdropping on their conversation as he heard his name.

"sooo you and perceeee??" y/n dragged out, grinning as she did loop-do-loops with her broomstick.

penny blushed, but looked disappointed, "he likes oliver."

"oh. well, f percy, what about marcus??"

"he's just marcus. we're best friends, y/n."

"my fav trope of romance is best friends to lovers," y/n wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and penny shook her head in amusement.

"my one is the opposites attract."

"hmm yeah, that's a good one too, it's really cute! say, aren't you and mar-"

"i was meaning you!"

"huh?"

"you and fred."

fred smirked as he listened, flicking back the bludger harshly at angelina.

"oh yes because we are totally meant for each other," y/n sarcastically replied.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"yes."

"you're doing this on purpose!"

"hmm? what?"

"oh my goodness, merlin you're stupid bro!" penny said exasperatedly.

"and you just realised. congrats, penny."

"anyway, what i'm saying is you and fred are rather like opposites. although he's extroverted and you're extroverted, you're a cute little nerd," y/n huffed at this 'i am n o t a nerd for the last time!' "and he's a class clown in the most charming way. you like reading and he likes pranking people and quidditch. you're a goody two shoes, an adorable one, but he's this foolish jock," penny looked proud with her argument so y/n laughed, "you're modest and he's very confident. and you're both hot."

y/n smiled, "i am not hot!" she giggled, "that's stupid."

"oi, ange!" penny called to angelina who looked over at her in amusement.

"yeah?"

"is y/n hot?"

"oh, totally!" angelina casually threw the quaffle into the hoop, "10/10."

"guyyys you flatTer me," y/n stretched out as the three of them laughed, "i'm bLushIng."

"you actually are," angie quipped.

"it's a command thing. if she wants to blush, she'll blush," replied penny.

they burst into giggles again.

fred watched y/n. a rosy pink, sure enough, had spread across her cheeks. that was enough to get her blushing?

"oi, l/n!"

y/n's head snapped his way, her eyes narrowed as if expecting an insult being thrown her way.

"your lips are pretty!"

her form relaxed, "thanks! yours are too!!"

penny giggled as angie rolled around laughing.

"what?" y/n looked around.

"the way you return flirting is hilarious."

"a compliment for a compliment, isn't that what they say?"

angelina snorted, "no one says that."

"oh well i say it, so deal with it."

"hey, i have an idea!" penny brightened up.

"let's hear it!"

"let's teach y/n pick up lines, ange!"

"oh you're a genius, penny!"

"okay, so-"

a bludger came whizzing at y/n as she screamed, trying frantically to dodge it. it hit her hand and a crack was heard.

luckily she immediately hopped off calmly, taking out her wand shakily and stunning the bludger, before penny and angie helped her over to the hospital ward, fred lagging guiltily behind.

she was ordered to stay in bed rest and with drowsy eyes she drifted off.

fred watched her feeling so terrible as he saw her heavily bandaged hand, imagining how he was going to tell her that he was in fact the one that had charmed it.

the next day, she was out and about, gently cradling her hand which was broken.

"um, hey, y/n," he nervously approached her.

"oh, hello!"

"i might have jinxed the bludger to go wild," he confessed abruptly, "i'm really sorry i didn't mean to-"

"no, it's fine, really." she gave him a reassuring smile and walked off.

he noticed that she couldn't write in class. usually she was scribbling away, but she just sat awkwardly at her desk, trying frantically to get anything legible down with her non-dominant hand. the fact she was so courteous and forgiving about everything just made it worse.

by now, y/n was dying inside. she couldn't write notes, and even though she wanted to ask any willing person for a duplicate of their notes, she'd have to explain the whole broken hand thing.

"ange?"

"yep?"

"do you have history of magic notes?" y/n did puppy eyes.

"nope, you forgot i dropped out."

"oh."

"do you want mine?" fred asked, smirking as he looked y/n up and down.

"you take notes?!!!" y/n was shook.

"only for you, 'cause i felt bad."

"you didn't need to!"

"i did. you want them?"

"yes please, thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!!"

"you're acting like you're not the one the bludger hit," angie quipped and y/n frowned, completely forgetting fred was still there, browsing the notes.

"c'mon, it was just an accident. and i've always wanted to be ambidextrous."

"lovely, you were struggling. i'll take all your notes. my handwriting isn't neat but i owe you."

y/n ducked to hide the light blush she could not control at all.

immediately she got a confused look from fred.

and instantly she thought of something that might make the blush go away. he didn't mean it, it slipped out, she thought and she felt her face cooling down, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"o-okay, thanks fred."

"no problems, darling," he flirted.

"that's good, darling," she flirted graciously back, bravely tilting her head up and looking him in the eye.

he took it well.

"where did you learn how to flirt so well, my little love??"

"why, freddie," she joked flirtatiously, "from you of course!"

he coughed and excused himself.

"he should really be careful with who he's flirting mindlessly with," y/n rolled her eyes.

angelina laughed, "flirting mindlessly? do you see the way he looks at you?"

"personality," y/n stated simply.

"or not."

true to his word, notes in fred's flurry of handwriting appeared neatly stacked every day. they were far too thorough and consisted of stupid flirty notes by the side. sometimes a little note, written in class, was jammed in there probably by accident:

hello freddie!

i have a crush on you 0-o, hogsmeade at 7pm on sunday?

-jamie <3, boy who sits in front of you in arithmancy

jamie,

i already have my eye on someone :) not you, sorry, y/n cringed at the bluntness of his words

you are very nice, perhaps try trera rivera if you swing that way? or illinois ann if you swing all ways?

oh i'm so sorry, i didn't know that! i'll talk to both. was the gracious answer

-jamie

and again! the lucky boy! this time from a girl.

weasley-

i know we hate each other but give me a chance to explain myself? broom closet at 9 tomorrow ? it trailed off to something that y/n didn't even want to think about.

k.o

fuck off. i don't fucking like you, i like someone else, ffs.

was the reply as y/n laughed and made sure to give the note back to fred.

it wasn't everyday someone confessed to you, right?

she underlined all the words that simply weren't legible to ask fred about.

and aNOTHER ONE?? how did this boy have so many admirers? y/n had received 0 love letters from any boy, let alone people of the same gender. you knew you were good with the ladies (and the gentlemen) when everyone sent you these letters.

dearest frederick-

it droned quite sweetly on about him and loving him and the writing was really magnificent.

margaret perrer

hi marg

i'm really really sorry. you seem like such a nice person, and it's not you, it's me. i, however, have a friend who really adores you: kenneth. he'll be an amazing friend and maybe more.

i also already am interested in another girl, so it really isn't you. thank you for your beautiful letter, hopefully we can be friends!

fred

oh he was very nice. feeling like she had overstepped the boundaries, she put them aside, discovering more and more but putting them all in a stack. she felt slightly insecure, especially when they all looked relatively neW?? the perfume on the flowers still smelled fresh?? who was this guy?

she sighed, finishing her read through and being thoroughly impressed with the sheer quality of the notes.

but there were around 100 words she had underlined. she skipped down into the great hall where she spotted two gingers. as soon as one (she couldn't see which one) saw her, he got up, whispered to the other something, and left.

when she approached the one that was left behind, she saw it was george.

"hi georgie!" she greeted him and thrust the papers into his hand, "where's fred?"

george shrugs, "left, for a date or something."

"oh, okay, could you translate these for me, the underlined words?" if y/n was disappointed, she didn't show it.

"oh yeah, sure, his handwriting's rubbish, isn't it."

"yes it is, i can barely read half of it."

george finished scribbling words next to the underlined ones.

"oh! and give these back to him? i'm pretty sure he dropped them in, probably got mixed up." she gave him the pile of letters, now neatly bundled in rope she had found.

"oh, yeah sure," george smirked, "of course."

"nice, well that's it, thanks for the help!"

"anything else?"

"tell fred good luck."

"right, right, mhm."

"yea."

once she'd left, george took out his walkie talkie.

"got that, freddie?"

"crystal clear."

"you're pining, pffft, hahahahah," george smirked as fred sighed.

"it didn't even work?"

"which plan?"

"the one to drop the letters in."

"i'm pretty sure she read like two, she didn't seem that disappointed?"

"exactly."

"you're an idiot. just tell her."

"but that's boringggg."

"well drop the hints then, merlin fred you're terrible at this."

"i haven't dated a billion girls like you!"

"then learn how to date my goodness."

"true."

"come fucking back."

"hickies or no?"

"eh go for it. i wanna see her reaction and then we can decide whether she likes you or not."

fred strided handsomely in, neck littered with little hickies and his top had two buttons open, freckles and pale broad shoulders showing.

george rolled his eyes, muttering, "drama queen," as he subtlely watched y/n. she managed not to look so surprised, her eyes widening then looking down quickly at her hands.

he would have thought she felt nothing for his twin if a light pink had not dusted over her face and if angie had not nudged her with a concerned look on her face.

y/n was wondering what the hell happened, disappointment rising slowly in her.

"okay, she's into you," george whispered as fred began removing the spell, leaving the unbuttoned shirt unbuttoned.

"cool beans."

"oh and she gives these back," george smirked.

"oh look at how she bundled it! so adorable georgie!"

"you're disgusting."

y/n hurried to the library at 6pm. she had heard the book she had waited for was finally available.

as she settled down with it, a paper aeroplane hit her.

"ahh!" she screamed as she caught it.

it read:

forbidden forest, 8pm.

huh? was this meant for her? it was in neat handwriting and on the smoothest parchment, with a single flower that smelt like fresh rain.