#(i promise i will def read them— there was just a quick moment where i felt like i was slowly slipping from this hyperfixiation lmaooo)

[worksby-d]

A Great Mentor: Only If You Like It

A One Shot

Summary: You sit down with Andy to settle on a first and middle name for your daughter. 

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: None 🥰

Word count: ~800

a/n: Even though this is part of a series, it can def be read alone. I MISS THIS SERIES SO MUCH.

All you want to do is say hi and let him know you’re home, but he doesn’t give you the chance, pouting when you walk into his home office. 

“No,” he groans–almost whines as if you ruined something–gently closing his laptop as he drags the word out. “You’re home already?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you just scoff, “Yeah.” And you raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Don’t sound so happy about it.” 

“No, that’s not–” He shakes his head, laughing a little. He holds his arm out and waves you in to come closer to him and you roll your eyes as you push off the door frame to let him draw you in. “I’m just finishing up, sweetheart. But I wanted to have dinner ready before you got home for once.”

“Well, that’s okay,” you chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”

He takes your hand once you get within reach of him, and you know where he wants you, but you just lean against his desk instead. 

It’s his turn to give you a questioning look. He’s used to you sitting on his lap. 

“C’mere…”

“I’m getting too heavy for that,” you mumble, resisting his gentle tug. 

“No you’re not,” he laughs quietly, giving one more reassuring try. “I’m strong, I promise.”

You give in, letting him pull you down to sit with him. With one arm around your back and his other hand on your growing belly, he gets you to relax. 

“See, you’re fine,” he winks. 

You ignore his told you so, wanting to get back to the cooking thing.

“I’d rather cook anyway.” You never let an opportunity to tease him slip away. “Remember that time I got sick after eating your parmesan chicken?”

“Hey now,” he chuckles. “That was before we were even together.”

“I know, I had to lie to my parents and say I was hungover the next morning when I was lying on their bathroom floor,” you laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Because telling them I was wasted was safer than telling them I was sneaking around with you the night before!”

“That was so long ago.” He shakes his head thinking back. “I’m sorry my cooking is subpar and maybe known for getting you sick once… or twice. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, giving him a quick consolation kiss. 

“How was your day?”

“Good,” you sigh, leaning against him a little more. “Really long.”

“Mm,” he hums, just holding you a moment, enjoying the quiet after all day. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you smile. He reminds you every chance he gets, especially during the past few months. “I–We,” you correct yourself, placing your hand on top of his over your stomach. “–Want to talk about something.”

“Yeah?”

“About her name…” Your voice trails off as you wait for his reaction. 

“Honey–” He chimes in immediately. “I’ve been thinking about it. I like Evren. I think it’s a beautiful name.”

You try to interrupt him. You don’t need to settle on her first name yet. But he doesn’t let you stop him.

“I can tell you really love it. And it’s growing on me… I think.”

You laugh a little at his rambling, running your fingers through his hair. 

“You really like it?”

“Yeah, angel.”

“That was easy,” you tease, sitting up proudly as if you just won something. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about middle names…”

He gives you a look, clearly confused. He doesn’t see the need for that yet without having agreed on a first name thus far. 

“I was just going to say that whatever we choose for her first name has to go with her middle name,” you explain. “And I have one that I want to run by you.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes jokingly. 

“Stop,” you laugh, swatting at his arm before getting more serious. “How do you feel about Marianne?”

“Mari–” He softly begins to repeat it, processing what you said. “Like my mom? Marianne?”

“Yeah,” you nod slowly. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you let out a small laugh. “It’s a beautiful name. But only if you like it.” 

“I love it,” he quickly assures you. “Evren Marianne…”

It’s your turn to repeat him, mirroring his smile as you listen to how the names sound together out loud.

“I love you,” he whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“I’m so sure,” you promise. He lifts his head to look at you when you gently nudge him. “I love when you talk about your mom. I want Evren to know her.”

He nods, leaning to give you a soft kiss. “Me too.”

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber imagine #a great mentor series

[chicken-fifi]

Kim Geonwoo (Bloodhounds) | A-Z

Pairing: Kim Geonwoo x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon: If it's not too much trouble for you can you please write sfw alphabet for bloodhounds? I have read your other fics before and I really loved it ❤️ I would really appreciate it if you accept my request. And it's ok if you can't. Thank you anyways ❤️

A/n: i'm so far behind on these requests man!

A - Attractive: What do they find attractive about each other?

Solely based on the vibes this bby gives off in the show, I think he’d be the most attracted to a non physical quality of yours. Something like your selflessness (as seen in Hand in There) or your determination to see the good in things or try to understand him even if you didn’t necessarily agree with his decisions/actions (as seen in Promises for the Future)

B - Baby: Do they want a family?

Apart from the fact I basically gave him in Promises for the Future, I do think Geonwoo would ultimately want to form a family. He wants a family that he can actively be a part of, be the dad he didn't get a chance to have (I think that was a thing, his dad passes leaving them in debt right?). He would definitely be a family man and it would really help him start a new chapter of life and heal him in the process. We all saw how defeated he appeared after coming to terms with the fact that at the end of the show he was no different than the Bloodhounds of Smile Capital

C - Comfort: How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Very hands on and vocal. He’s hugging and holding you as he whispers words of endearment and encouragement into your ear to try and get you through whatever it is that is going on. He also urges you to talk through it

D - Dates: What are dates with him like?

Food related at places where he can show off his grilling skills. I also expect he spends a lot of the boxing money he wins from his matches on you too. They do tend to be very casual since he is very money conscious at times. He’s incredibly attentive too and always taking care of you during these dates. Def an acts of service boy in this department

E - Equal: Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

I wanna say more passive, but not quite passive. I wouldn’t say equals though since in my head you certainly have a more dominant role in most things. But he does have his dominant moments where what he says is what he expects to happen (especially when it comes to your safety). He definitely just prefers to just go along with what you want since it makes you happy and spending time with you makes him happy

F - Feelings: When did they know they were in love?

You’re not a violent person nor do you like violence in the slightest - for entertainment or anything really. So when he first started boxing, he didn’t expect you to be on board with it or even attend any of his matches (prior to COVID). So when you not only supported him, but went out of your way to learn about the types of food that would provide him the best nutrition possible during his workouts and pre/post matches he was floored. And then you went to one of his matches. You may not like or support violence in any sense but you supported him. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. This is the same time you realize you’re in love, because you wouldn’t have done it for anyone else but him

G - Gratitude: How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Geonwoo is so incredibly aware of everything when it comes to you. The example from above about the nutrition stuff you learned is an example. He catches on real quick that you are buying foods that are high in protein and healthy fats (which he finds out you had to look into after finding a book on the coffee table one night). He knows that you don’t have to do that, especially given your stance on the whole boxing situation, which is why he always makes sure to thank you and take care of you as best as he can. You get flowers and even more spontaneous dates and gifts every week or regularly as he can just to relieve you of the stress you may be harboring

H - Honesty: Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Yep! He doesn’t want to get you involved in the Smile Capital situation immediately. While you knew about it, having either been present when his mom’s shop was originally trashed or the attack on his home, he still tried to keep you in the dark about as many of the specifics as he could. But other than that, he’s pretty open, keeping mainly surprises and more taxing manners to himself before he shares them

I - Inspiration: Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I suppose that since you entered his life he’s much more focused on having a stable and safe future. Not that he wasn’t before, because he was, but now with you in his life it’s something that he’s constantly working towards and puts at the forefront of everything that he does. Those who don’t know him very well will look at this and just think it’s Geonwoo being Geonwoo, but those who are close to him notice the determination even more after you enter his life

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

A part of me wants to say yes, about how easily he gets jealous. And he gets pouty too. Man wants all of your attention on him. I would say he’s very much a golden retriever boyfriend. He honestly sits her moping and pouting until you give him your attention again. On more than a couple occasions though, I imagine he would also try and scare off some guys that are obviously making your uncomfortable with this boxing physique alone

K - Kiss: Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

I don’t remember if the show touches on previous relationships for either of the two main leads, but in my little world I’d imagine you’re his first everything. So everything is very new for Geonwoo. He’s a good kisser, but it certainly did take some time for him to get to that point. In my head, he was scared of doing too much and he was also focused on making sure you felt comfortable. So the very first kiss was very shy and experimental. They stay like that for a bit, but not very long

L - Love Confession: How would they confess to their s/o?

He’s stumbling over his words as he’s telling you, but he gets it out without fail. It’s very cute

M - Marriage: Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

It is certainly on his mind, it may take a few years to get there since he does want to be financially, emotionally, and physically able to provide the married life you deserve, but it will happen. His proposal is very private, honestly. He might take you out to a very isolated part of a park or woods and propose there as the sunsets or something. Maybe the first place you met or had your date, without drawing attention of course. He’s the provider or at least attempts to be, because he also enables you to do things on your own. Think, “I know you can do it, but let me,” if that makes sense. You will certainly be supported and well loved that for sure

N - Nicknames: What do they call their s/o?

Him: Something cringingly sweet/cute, cutie, Baby,

You: Geon, Woo, Baby,

O - On Cloud Nine: What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s like a golden retriever puppy on crack. You might as well be running marathons in his mind with how often you’re on it. If someone doesn’t notice the lovestruck look on his face they are BLIND. He’s def an acts of service guy I feel

P - PDA: Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

As golden retrievery as he is, he’s very shy when it comes to PDA. He might hold your hand or keep a hand at the small of your waist, but he’s very reserved in that sense I feel. He doesn’t want to draw attention to it, but not because he doesn’t want people to know that you’re together, but because he wants this to be your own little thing. Something just for the two of you

Q - Quirks: Something you do that he loves

You’re an avid reader here (reader of what idk, you just read!). The number of emotions you show on your face in the span of seconds when you read things without realizing it is something he loves. He could honestly watch you read all day long and never get tired

R - Romance: How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s pretty romantic and cliche, but he does it in a way that appeals to you and your tastes. Man’s down for anything that would make you happy

S - Support: Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

It’s honestly an issue how much he does to support you, emotionally, physically, and financially. If you need any money for something you’re doing, setting up a company or opening a shop, he makes sure to give it to you without complaint and offers help in any way he can. This man will sing you praises about how much he knows you’re going to succeed and never allow you to doubt yourself

T - Thrill: Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

There’s certainly a preference for routine, being a boxer and all, but he’s also very spontaneous. He’s always keeping the two of your on your toes

U - Understanding: How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Is it just me or does this marshmallow of a man scream empathy? No? Okay. SO incredibly empathetic man. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s also incredibly observant when it comes to you. Like, he notices when the slightest things are off and tries his best to make things easier for you or fix something if it’s because of him

V - Value: How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’re his family now so you automatically share a place with his mom. He puts the two of you on pedestal first and foremost in everything. Literally. If you need anything, he could be in the middle of a training session or out at a restaurant with Woojin, he’s gone in a second and on his way to you without an ounce of hesitation

W - Whole: How do they feel about you being in their life?

Teenage girl with a crush. He’s so iubjgtkauibjthgsbuijkazjk. He’s so happy (and he’s happy on a regular basis!)

X - Xylophone: What is your song?

To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra

Y - Yearning: How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

You ever see those tiktok of the golden retriever bf/hubby losing their gf/wife anywhere? That’s him! Even the dog ones fit. So when he’s missing you, he’s genuinely mopey and down in the dumps. But even the most simple text or picture or phone call fixes it immediately. Wish this man luck right before a match and he’s BEAMING

Z - Zeal: Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

What lengths isn’t he willing to go is the real question. I find it hard to believe that he will ever give up on the two of you, that just not who is, especially when you never gave up on him

#kdrama masterlist #kdrama #kdrama headcanons #bloodhounds #bloodhounds masterlist #bloodhounds headcanon #bloodhounds geonwoo #bloodhounds kim geonwoo #geonwoo #kim geonwoo #geonwoo headcanons #kim geonwoo headcanons

[anothermansjeans]

...

#sorry if i’ve been pretty MIA djjfmd #i just.......havent been vibing well recently? #idk times have been stressful #but i’m gonna try to catch up on all the fics i’ve been tagged in #(i promise i will def read them— there was just a quick moment where i felt like i was slowly slipping from this hyperfixiation lmaooo) #i’ve also just been trying to interact with people through tag games so i wasnt completely gone!! #but yeah i still may be a little quieter on here for a bit djfkdmd but if you need/want to message me feel free!! #anne marie shut up pls :)

[meowzfordayz]

Hi! Could you do headcanons of Tanjiro and a reallly touch deprived reader? I just think that both of them crave the other’s touch and attention and just thinking about it makes my heart go *badum* it’s Friday where I am so I hope you’re having an amazing Friday!! I hope you had something by the way! (Like some water or food! ❤️)

HII THIS TOOK ME A WHILE TY FOR YOUR REQUEST AND YOUR PATIENCE. 💘 (once you read it you'll understand why it took me a while lol) It is now ~Tuesday where I am, but I vaguely recall that it was ~midnight on Friday when I originally received your Ask, sooo I hope you're having a terrific Tuesday ?? ☺️

Author’s Note: dayuuum everyone’s really just touch deprived, touch starved. 😭 Sending cuddle–hug-whatever-other-touch-anyone-might-be-craving-needing-wanting-as-they-read-this vibes. 💗💗💗

touch deprived

Kamado Tanjirou x Reader

Word Count: ~2,600

CW: mild sexual content

~faqs~

I feel like Tanjirou w/ a (reallly) touch deprived partner would be all about the little touches, quiet reminders, spontaneous grandiose displays of affection

With Tanjirou, you wouldn’t feel clingy or needy

Bc y’all are nurturing intimacy, ya feel?

Your partnership is an indefinite dance of reading the signs

Of dancing along the thread gleaming from his smile to your laughter

Your trust to his enrapturement

He knows you like he knows his favorite color (bc let’s be honest: who tf is that familiar w/ the back of their hand ?????)

In no particular order…

Gentle hip squeezes when nobody’s around: not necessarily sensual — intended to be more so reassuring and adoring, the kind of touch shared between lovers (altho obvi nothing wrong w/ friends who are comfy squeezing each other’s hips !!)

Touching noses (are these butterfly kisses or eskimo kisses ?? bc to this day I have no idea): y’all do the whole shebang where your foreheads press together, noses brushing, close enough that you can feel each other smiling, but not so close that you’re actually kissing — it’s sickeningly sweet 🥰

Loose hugs, suffocating hugs, quick hugs, disappointed hugs, grateful hugs: there’s a hug for every occasion — for when you’re alone and it becomes less of a hug, more of an embrace; for when you’re w/ friends, and either of you show hints of feeling overwhelmed (brief, appears almost playful to anyone watching, but really it’s a soft, “We can say our goodbyes, if you’d like?”); for when you’ve just completed, survived another mission — bleeding, bloodied, bruised (obvi not too tight, bc yanno, you’re injured ☹️); for when either of you are excited, bubbling, giddy (to soak in the joy, contentment, elation); for when words aren’t enough, the overlapping shadows bursting too loudly, too rapidly, too familiarly (these hugs transcend socializing expectations — if either of you clearly need ~a moment i.e. anxiety/panic attacks bc having PTSD as a slayer is canon at least it should be, then the other is immediate and protective in providing that moment)

Poking !! Mostly playful, sometimes ~annoying, usually aimed at ticklish spots — Tanjirou’s weakness is prob along his collarbones (they’re sensitive 😤) and behind his knees (a much tougher spot to sneak attack, but sometimes you’ll trap him under the kakebuton… def gotten kicked once or many times lol — you still do every so often tho bc he lets out the purest squeal)

Caressing (gosh I love that word even tho it’s admittedly a lil awkward ??): at the risk of sounding cliche (this totally sounds cliche 😆), time stops when either of you caress each other; feather light skimming of the backs of his fingers along your jaw; firm, worried tracing of your thumbs across his cheekbones; sometimes your eyes involuntarily flutter as you instinctively seek to preserve the delicacy of his warmth for as long as possible (stored in the tenderness of your memory); somehow, he knows exactly when to caress you again so you’re never w/o that safe, promising weight of knowing — he wants you as much as you want him

Fingers: a wordless language spoken by you and him (by a lot of ppl, sure, but you’ve got your favorite “words” that only he could ever understand); pinkies linking, not in promise, but in forgiveness (“we’ve got this, even if I kinda wanna punch you right now… lemme just hold your pinky w/ mine instead”); fingertips tapping, a warning, a signal, of stress, frustration, barely holding it together (when they don’t even tap, simply tensed, curled, very faintly trembling… that’s when you know it’s bad — that’s when you wrap your own fingers around his (or his around yours); it’s another word for “I’m here” and “I’ve got you” and “I need you”)

KNEES (was lowkey gonna write just “KNEES” to confuse y’all, but nvm 😃): they’re so underrated imo, bc like; nudging his knee against yours, yours against his; teasing out breathy giggles as you ghost your fingertips over his kneecap; a steady palm to ground, calm, tether each other (while sitting, obvi, bc it’d be a lil awkward to try and rest your palm on his knee standing); mindless patting (again, while sitting), subconsciously maintaining a point of contact (y’all are too cute ahhh 😭)

Also elbows ahaha for when Tanjirou’s being a nuisance: your jabs are lowkey adorable and vaguely, hardly malicious (you elbow him primarily when you’re cuddling and he refuses to let you go, “Do you really want me to pee on you? Because I will. If you don’t let me go. I HAVE TO PEE. Idiot.” — aka my irl partner @ me when I cling to them in the morning lololol nooo don’t leave meee); you’ve def tried at least once to lick his elbow w/o him noticing (you failed); he’s also tried (he would’ve succeeded too if you hadn’t suddenly moved to grab something, promptly jamming your elbow into his mouth #ouch 🤕)

Sitting on each other’s laps !! Idk how frequently y’all do this bc it’s highkey PDA**, and I don’t think Tanjirou’s huge on PDA, like, most of these hcs occur in snippets of time belonging to just you and him (excluding fleeting shoulder squeezes, and you certainly hold hands when you stroll somewhere together), but when you’re savoring a moment alone, on a rooftop, under a tree, heck even on a doorstep if there isn’t anyone around; you’re absolutely sprawling a leg over his lap, or he’s leaning w/ his back against your thighs — you cherish the comfortability implied in such casually uncasual proximity

**Assuming your relationship is public, which, it 100% is bc you may be shy bundles of sunshine, but DAMN y’all glow so brightly together, so why tf would you wanna hide that ?? P.S. Isn’t that kinda odd how sitting on someone’s lap platonically is almost more acceptable than sitting on someone’s lap romantically? Like, there usually has to be a ~reason to sit on someone’s lap, otherwise it’s “icky” orrr you’re #gross bc PDA ??

Tanjirou 11/10 loves to pick you up and spin w/ you (he’s polite ofc and asks first tho!): and if you’re able to, then he 11/10 loves to be picked up and spun too!

PIGGYBACK RIDES: tbh hardly ever out of convenience/necessity; they’re ~just because (just bc I love you); the pattern of his gait, the broadness of his back, the curve of his shoulder blades; everything about him is a soothing, luxurious balm; falling asleep as he carries you, arms locked lazily around his neck, head lulling slightly, is the ultimate treasure; and as w/ picking up and spinning, you do your best to return the favor

Long story short, Tanjirou w/ a (reallly) touch deprived Reader is the epitome of #relationship goals

Except what you’re creating together is real not staged for social media 😌👀💀😂 (okayokay but no genuine shade throwing intended 😅)

Tugging at your bottom lip when you pout at him is his favorite pastime

Hugging him right after training, sweat, grime, and all—as he protests weakly bc apparently “I smell bad” Shut up Tan, you smell delicious and he can tell that, for whatever reason, you’re telling the truth ??—is your favorite way to fluster him

And he doesn’t take you for granted

Doesn’t take for granted how willingly you cross your ankles w/ his as you fall asleep together

Doesn’t take for granted how, on foggy evenings, you ask for extra kisses

Doesn’t take for granted how you devour, crave, adore him

Because he knows it wasn’t, isn’t, easy

He knows the strength, fragility, wonderment, of letting someone in

Of telling someone, “I need this. Can you help me?”

That fear of rejection

Not because the person doesn’t want to help

But because they can’t

He’s grateful every day as he kisses your ear, nibbles playfully at your fingertips, twirls you in close before releasing you extravagantly

Grateful he can help you

Grateful he gets to purposely step on the backs of your heels, just to be ~extra special

Grateful he gets to speak with you in more languages than uttered words

I love you he spells into your wrist with his finger

I love you you spell back into the crook of his elbow

READY FOR A SURPRISE ??

The surprise is that that ^^ was my 2nd attempt at writing this request, and below is my 1st

Did someone say two-for-one ?? Yup

Someone is me

Two-for-one !!

Okie dokie I’m all about control and logic and order and organization (literally all of my clothes are folded and stacked rainbowellically #fml #I have problems #teehee)

Sooooo let’s do this!

Starting from: the top!

Hair

Touching each other’s hair is definitely a love language between y’all

Bc there are so many different ways to do it!

—In the morning, waking up together: you, unable to resist his bedhead so fluffy and so precious, rewarded w/ sleepy grunts of contentment as you run drowsy fingers through his wayward strands | Tanjirou, mesmerized by morning’s glimmer highlighting your messy tendrils so breathtaking and so enticing, basking in your soft mewls as he nuzzles into your scalp, inhaling deeply smells like home

—Briefly, as you go your separate ways: an adoring tug on one of the many strands framing his determined expression | a smoothing stroke as you rush past him, easing the hustle in your eyes, the resulting frazzle of your hair

—Leisurely, when you’re stealing a moment together: you, attempting to braid his not-quite-long-enough locks as he sits lazily between your knees, palms resting on either one | Tanjirou, switching positions with you to return the favor once you’re satisfied with your handiwork, humming to himself as you rub various sized circles into his thighs

—Worriedly, in hopeful desperation: you, clinging, pulling at his wild tangles, reluctant, unwilling, fearful, to let any slip through your fingers to let him slip through your fingers | Tanjirou, much more steady outwardly than he feels inwardly, trying his hardest to memorize its exact color, texture, scent to bottle the warmth it grants him

—Heated: you, fixated on how pretty he is, his glistening hair swaying back and forth as he moves passionately above you | Tanjirou, drunk on how angelic you are, hair haloed around your flushed face as your back arches, mouth parted and undeniable

Forehead

Sooo 😘 many 😘 forehead 😘 kisses

—“I’m proud of you!” forehead kisses: you, when Tanjirou cooks something that actually makes you go back for seconds (Idk how his cooking is canonically, but Imma go with… not terrible, but not usually seconds-worthy either 😋) | Tanjirou, when you groggily roll out of bed to train w/ him, bc he knows you’d reeeally rather go back to sleep (you’d just rather spend time w/ him even more 😌)

—“Go to sleep,” forehead kisses: you, as Tanjirou’s head nods, snapping upright again, plate nearly slipping from his grip (Tan *kiss* I can wash the rest *kiss* Go get ready for bed *kiss* | Tanjirou, as you stubbornly try to finish reading your book, eyelids drooping (You said “one more chapter” three chapters ago *kiss* You need to sleep *kiss*)

—“You’re gross and sweaty and I still want to kiss you,” forehead kisses: you, marveling at his glowing physique as he pauses training for lunch, greedily licking your lips afterwards, faint taste of salt from his sweat | Him, initially watching you from a distance, before spontaneously planking in front of you so he can kiss your sweaty forehead every time you come up from a push up

—“Do you want attention? Bc I wanna give you attention!” forehead kisses: you, unabashedly peppering his forehead when he returns from missions (You should get that checked out, Tan *mwah* Once I’m done *mwah* Of course *mwah*) | Tanjirou, assuming you’re mad at him (he’s unsure what for 😅 you just seem grumpy ☹️), bc why communicate when you could *showers in kisses* instead?! (disclaimer: communication is very important, so for this scenario just assume something silly — maybe you tripped over his zori earlier bc he put them somewhere inconvenient aka left them in the middle of the floor and he was like #oops my b)

And affectionate head bumps!

Only you do those tho

Bc the first and last time Tanjirou did

Err

You didn’t exactly cry, but you did do that thing where your whole face scrunched up as you tried your absolute best to not curse him out, eyes bright with pain

He felt like 😫, inwardly scolding himself for not thinking that action through beforehand

*cue more forehead kisses !!*

Bc obvi successful forehead kisses make failed head bumps better! ❤️‍🩹

Nose

Ugggh noses are so 🤗

But like, whaddya do w/ noses?

Nose nudges, I suppose ??

—Sleepy nose nudges: you, breathless, sweaty, unfocused—another nightmare—nudging into the firmness of Tanjirou’s shoulder as he slumbers—blissfully unaware—grounding yourself in his scent, his thereness | Tanjirou, blinking tiredly as you stargaze together, nudging into the sweetness of your neck, dramatically fake snoring (he doesn’t mean to ruin the moment 😬, but he doesn’t want you to have to carry him either)

—Jealous nose nudges: you, standing behind him as he chats pleasantly with the woman at the flower stall, your arms loose around his waist as you nudge his nape—[y/n], look! You peer around his bicep Do you like them? He’s holding a delicate assortment of flowers, their stems wrapped carefully in newspaper They’re for us! You blush, realizing he’d simply been chatting about which flowers to buy For us | Tanjirou, nudging the back of your head with his nose to distracting you from your ~intense debate with Inosuke—Tan? He nudges you again, ignoring Inosuke’s mocking 🤢 face My haori’s purple, right? “Of course it’s purple!” Inosuke… I TOLD YOU SO! Inosuke retreats in disgust (obvi Tanjirou’s going to agree w/ you 🤬) You okay, Tan? You giggle as Tanjirou nudges you a third time “I’m perfect” And he is, now that he has your attention to himself (this may seem ooc/possessive of Tanjirou, but like, he’s human !! it’s normal for him to feel/behave insecurely ~sometimes !!)

—Cute nose nudges: you, randomly nudging his cheek as you walk beside him, body leaning into his—”What was that for?” He noticeably reddens Because I love you He stops and points to his other cheek “Make sure you get this one too!” You roll your eyes (dw! ofc you nudge both of them 💘) | Tanjirou, randomly grabbing your hand, nudging it repeatedly—So… you’re a cat? He huffs, nudging exasperatedly That’s exactly how a cat would react You snort “I love you” You offer him your other hand too How unfair that this one hasn’t received any loving He happily nudges it

Tanjirou especially enjoys nudging you w/ his nose bc he gets to indulge in your comforting scent w/o just creepily and constantly sniffing you

He does keep a few of your shirts, just as you keep a lot a few of his

But nothing beats you

#fresh from the source

#drink Poland Spring

#actually Idk any water bottle brand slogans lol

#P.S. whenever possible, use a refillable/reusable bottle 🌱

Cheeks

Alrighty time for a lil switcheroo bc I’m hitting writer’s block trying to keep up the above format for these hcs lmao

—Was I overly ambitious? Yessir 😆

—Am I finally going to cut myself some slack after procrastinating these hcs for ~days? Yup! 🥳

(aaand then I started writing pt 1 aka draft 2)

#tanjirou kamado #tanjiro kamado #kamado tanjirou #kamado tanjiro #tanjirou x reader #tanjiro x reader #kamado x reader #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #request

[mishkakagehishka]

repost from my old blog

No, you’re so right! For regular Deuce, I see him as the sweetest, kindest guy who drinks so much women respect juice because he wants to. Like, to compare to Leona or Ruggie, those two have fear-respect for women (is it called awe in English?), whereas I think Deuce just has a bunch of regular respect for them. I adore him, I wanna make him tea and help him study. He doesn’t deserve the slander I’ve been writing about him.

As for yandere, I agree with you, in that he’d be really manipulative and clingy, like, when he tells Yuu about the time he made his mother cry and how that was a wake-up call to him. He’d totally go “You know, my mum was so happy to hear I have a nice partner like you… I think she actually believes I’ve changed for the better now! I think she’d disown me if I ever lost you :)” in a jokey way, but def mean it as “my mother’s heartbreak will be your fault” if he started thinking he was gonna get the boot. I see him as the type to be a bit delusional and seriously overprotective, but not particularly jealous. That said, I see him as that kind of yandere in a world where his object of affection is either dating him, or is just indifferent to everyone equally. My nice guy (bleugh) Deuce theory comes in because he’s a bit dumb (affectionate), and I feel like if he thinks he has a rival in someone who’s usually openly a mean person, he would, unfortunately, be in danger of adopting the nice guy rhetoric. I don’t think he’d go full Nice GuyTM and use the b-word or slutshame, because he still respects women, but I feel like he would feel entitled to his darling’s feelings purely because he “treats them well” (despite being a manipulative bastard, actually, but when have nice guys ever been self aware?) because he’s kinda daft.

“[…] I wanna hear more of ur vers of deuce and mb u can write somehting for him?” we all read this part of the ask, okay? The following is technically not my fault. I’m sorry.

Word count: 3103 Summary: Ace decides he wants to tease Deuce by not telling him why he was alone with the Prefect of Ramshackle, and Deuce decides he needed to claim her ASAP. Warnings: yandere (toxic, abusive behaviour), implied stalking, a kiss that wasn’t consented to, cussing, entitlement to a person, nice guy rhetoric with the misogyny it carries, threats and manipulation. As always, let me know if I missed anything that should get a warning Note: Yuu/Prefect is refered to with feminine terms and she/her pronouns. I warned for misogyny, but it’s not as severe, I think, though there’s a few “girls like you” type of lines.

It was a peaceful day in the Heartslabyul dorm, for once. With no exams nor projects to prepare for in the coming week, the students of Night Raven College had ample free time that weekend, and in Heartslabyul, that meant rest and sophisticated socialisation, all in the borders of the Queen of Hearts’ rules, of course. With the sun not yet at the mid-point of the sky, a group of four first years were spending their morning playing cards in their shared room, circling from one game to another, mixing and matching rules for different ones until they were playing a completely new game, before returning to a classic once more. Ace, the cheater and trickster of the four, seemed to have been on a winning streak. Though his companions had their doubts, he was as skilled with his hands as he was with his words, able to absolve himself of any accusations that flew his way. “What can I say? You guys just suck,” he grinned, a Seven of Hearts poking out of his sleeve.

It was moments before Deuce, his closest frenemy, was about to point out the card that Ace abruptly got up, bringing a quick end to the game. “Oh, well, since I’ve been winnin’ all this time, this has gotten boring,” he said. “Anyway, I gotta run, promised Prefect I was gonna be at hers ten minutes ago.” He shot a wink to his buddies, a wave of heckling and comparisons to various animals ringing through the room as response. The frown on Deuce’s face either went unnoticed or ignored. “Prefect? Of Ramshackle? What does she want you for?” He inquired. “Wouldn’t you like to know? … hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re makin’ a scary face. Ya jealous or something?” With every word, Ace seemed to have been riling Deuce up more and more, who clenched and unclenched his jaw a couple of times, his glare not easing up. “I’m not jealous, just curious,” he said, finally turning his eyes away from the other. “Have fun… or whatever.” The cards were shuffled and dealt once more; a three-player game was starting.

Deuce wanted to say it didn’t bother him, he really did, but it has been a week since that day, and he just couldn’t stop himself imagining the worst. It’s already been two years since the Prefect had come to Twisted Wonderland, since Ace and he started attending Night Raven College - and since the three of them became inseparable friends. And Grim. Deuce could even say Ace was his best friend, or that’s what he could have said. He had told him he had feelings for the Prefect, he told him he was planning on wooing her… When he mustered the courage to do so. And here Ace was, going round to her dorm, which was still populated only by her and Grim, to spend time there, just the two of them. Just the two of them! It was basically a date! Truthfully, Deuce felt betrayed by them both. By Ace, in whom he confided. He trusted Ace not to break the bro-code, not to try and get into the Prefect’s pants when he’d already claimed her - not outright, but by being the first to show interest in her. And he felt betrayed by the Prefect for no reason that she would know, something Deuce was aware of, but he couldn’t help it. She was to be his, so why was she inviting Ace over, alone? Why was he accepting? It all just made Deuce sick.

So, there he was, seething and steaming while staring up at the ceiling from his bed at two in the morning, the culprit for his bad mood sleeping soundly and snoring away on the opposite end of the room. Picking at his fingers nervously, teeth gritting together, the thoughts that swam through Deuce’s mind ranged from furious to disappointed to just sad. Ace refused to give him the details of their meet-up that day, so what else could it be? It was just the two of them, in Prefect’s dorm - no - in the Prefect’s room more likely! It might as well have been a date. He slapped his hands over his face, stifling a groan. It was supposed to be him. It should have been him. And so, it spun, the desperation and sadness of it not being him, soon to be replaced with anger directed at Ace, at his friend who betrayed him by taking advantage of Prefect’s stupidity, who saw nothing wrong with inviting a man over, alone. And so the feelings progressed to disappointment at the Prefect. She was- is his dream girl. He hasn’t given up, despite all. Deuce truly and honestly believed he loved her. Convinced of it, his heart hurt even more. And she went and chose Ace. Ace, the bully. Over him, who was always so kind, so full of respect, so patient and gentle with her. How could she not choose him, when he was so good to her, when Ace was always the one making her frown, even cry? She might have tried to wave off the teasing insults, and she did do her best to not cry in front of them, but of course Deuce knew when she’d run off suddenly, of course he always followed her. Out of worry. Out of love.

And then it was back to fury, and as the thoughts spun in his head, he spent the rest of the night without much sleep.

He knew he had to confront her; he wouldn’t be able to get closure any other way. It was for closure, is what he told himself, but, deep inside, he’d hoped it was still early in her relationship with Ace (Ace refused to answer any question related to the situation, which Deuce took as an answer of its own), early enough that his own confession would be able to sway her. Make her question her feelings, at least. Give him a chance. He fidgeted with his pen, Trein was droning on as always, but Deuce’s eyes were glued to Prefect’s back. She was writing down everything the teacher was saying, so diligently. She was always such a hard worker, always giving it her all. Ace would be a horrible match for her. Didn’t she know this? As if sensing his eyes on her, the Prefect turned around. She shot him a smile, but Deuce couldn’t even hold eye contact, averting his gaze to his own notes, a deep blush coating his cheeks. He scribbled absentmindedly, trying to make it seem as if he wasn’t just staring at her the entire time.

“So, seriously, are you two… a thing now?” Deuce whispered, not wanting the other students in the cafeteria to overhear. Ace, who was moments away from destroying a plate of macaroni, just shrugged in response. “The hell do you care?” “Well, if my two best friends start dating, I’d like to be the first to know,” he lied. “Would you, now?” “It's… you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Come on, just tell me why Prefect only asked you to come to Ramshackle that day.” “It’s none of your business. Stop being a baby and ask her yourself if you’re so curious.” “I can’t just do that! She’s, I told you how I feel about her. Just tell me if I even still have a shot, or if you’ve already-” “A loser like you ne~ver had a shot. Oh, speak of the devil! Prefect, Grim! Get your asses over here!” Ace waved over the discussed-about person and her companion, pulling out a chair next to him. Deuce glared at him, but Prefect chose to sit opposite them both instead, with Grim taking the seat next to Ace.

For a moment Deuce found himself at a loss for words. Every time he saw her, it was as if he was back at the entrance ceremony as a first year again, in the moment when he saw her for the first time. She was the last of that generation’s first years to awaken, and he remembered it all clearly. Of course he did, the memory of first love is not one many forget. He was just standing around with the other Heartslabyul students, listening to his dorm leader’s words so attentively, until he saw the Prefect. They hadn’t even locked eyes, hell, she didn’t even realise his existence until she asked him to help catch Ace the next day, but it only took a glance in her way for him to fall head over heels in love. And then he watched her, the way her face morphed from confusion, to shock at being told she didn’t belong here, to dread at being told her home didn’t even exist. It was intriguing, yes, but for Deuce, seeing tears welling up in her eyes, the way she looked at headmaster Crowley, eyes wide and scared, so vulnerable, he knew he had to always be by her side. It was a riddling feeling, he couldn’t decide if he liked seeing her in such a state of despair, or if he wanted to protect her from it all, from the entire world if need be. When he looked at Prefect now, that was all he could remember. How sweet, how unguarded she was, how much he could protect her. How good he could be to her.

“Deuce? Hey, are you listening?” She waved a hand in front of his face, and he blinked rapidly, the hand he was leaning on falling to the table. He’d barely eaten, and students were already filing out of the cafeteria. “You didn’t even touch your food. Are you feeling okay?” She was worried. What a darling. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he stuttered out, “just, not really hungry.” “Oooh!” Grim piped up, grabbing a piece of bread from his plate. “Then, you won’t mind if I eat this? And this, too… actually, henchman! Open your pockets, put all this in there.” “My pockets? Are you insane? Just eat on the way to class.” “Speaking of,” Ace interjected, “it’s about time we get going. Crewel’s next period, I don’t wanna get called a bad dog again. Shit’s weird.” “Uh, actually!” Deuce piped up, reaching across the table to grasp at the Prefect’s wrist, keeping her seated. “I need to talk to you; it’ll just be a moment. In private.” He emphasised, more so for Ace’s ears. Ace took a glance at the Prefect, noting how she started shifting in her seat. “Dude, we need to get to class,” he said. “Stay out of it. I just… need to ask her something. It’ll take a moment.”

Ace shrugged, patting the Prefect’s back with a short “Hang in there!” and mouthing “Don’t say anything dumb” to Deuce before he left the cafeteria. Grim, much to his chagrin, stayed, citing how he had to stay at his henchman’s side at all times lest she gets herself in more danger. “It’s nothing, you don’t need to worry.” Deuce noticed how tense she seemed, but still refused to let go of her wrist. Instead, his grip tightened as he stumbled over his words. “Look, I just, I really need to talk to you about something and I, you know, I didn’t want to say anything in front of that guy, but, um, can you… can we meet up in the courtyard after classes end? By the well? I want to talk to you, just the two of us. If you’re- if you’re free.” “Hehe! You gonna ask her out or somethin’?” “NO! I mean, I’m not- stay out of this, Grim! Ugh… that’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for keeping you, let’s just go to class already… you don’t have to say anything right now, just think about it, I’ll be waiting by the well. Just… don’t tell Ace. Please.”

It’s not that Deuce was a smooth-talker, but even the awkwardness of his first year paled in comparison to how tongue-twisted he was around the Prefect. Just her presence was enough to suck all the confidence from him, and make him doubt everything about himself. How his hair looked, whether he smelled nice, if his clothes looked tidy, even how his voice sounded. He still hasn’t lived down the time his voice cracked in front of the entire group – not that Ace would ever let him – but it was still so mortifying to him. It was more than possible to live with Ace’s teasing, especially if he decided to rough him up a bit for it, but why did it have to happen in front of her? And that’s why he was still fixing his hair, using the reflection of the water in the well as his mirror. Not a single hair was allowed to be out of place, it just wouldn’t do. He sighed, shaking his hands and patting down his trousers while trying to cool himself off, and his nerves. He left the class first, the moment it ended, merely glancing in the Prefect’s way, hoping she would be there. It was perfect; nobody was in the courtyard at that moment. Just Deuce and his thoughts. “Hey!” He was startled by the Prefect’s voice once more, quickly spinning around to face her. “I’m here, so…” It seemed as if she felt just as awkward as he did, shifting her balance from one leg to the other rapidly.

With a sharp inhale, Deuce steeled his nerves and looked her straight in the eyes, despite how hard it was to keep eye contact at that moment. "Pref- Y/N. I want you to be mine. I want you to be my girlfriend.” He didn’t see a point in beating around the bush. He’s been waiting for the perfect moment to confess to her for years, and now, with the vibrant orange hue of the sunset providing a romantic background, surrounded by the silence of the school’s courtyard now that all classes have finished and knowing he’s the only man in her eyes at that moment, it would be hard to find a better moment. Besides, the way the fading Sun’s light fell on the Prefect’s features, making her look even more beautiful, would have made it hard for him to keep his feelings inside for longer than a minute, anyway. “Huh?” “I’ve had a crush on you for ages, ever since I first saw you and-” “Deuce, I’m sorry…” she trailed off, hoping she wouldn’t have to outright reject him. After all, “You’re a really good friend to me, but…” He paused. Rejection? “Is it because… are you already, with Ace? Is that why you two have been hanging out alone so often?” “Come on, don’t be like that.” “Like what?” Deuce’s voice was growing in volume with each word, and the shyness of before seemed to have vanished, replaced by an angry tone, sharp and accusatory. “Wait, are you seriously dating Ace? You’re rejecting me because of that punk? Are you fuckin’ with me? Have you forgotten the shit he did to you – the shit he keeps doing to you – or are you really dumb enough to go for a guy like that?” “Deuce!” The Prefect reprimanded him, appalled at his poisonous words. “No, don’t fuckin’ scold me like you’re my damn mother, are ya actually being serious? He was practically bullying you! He still constantly makes fun of you and embarrasses you in front of others, he hasn’t matured a fuckin’ day since we were first years and he’s the one you chose? You know I could- I would treat you better than him. Than anyone! I’m your best damn choice, and you picked the worst instead. I know he made you cry, multiple fuckin’ times. What are you, a masochist?” “Who gave you any right to tell me who I should and shouldn’t choose?! You know, you’re acting like a real ass. I’m leaving.” “No, you fucking ain’t, you’ll listen to me to the end.” Deuce grabbed her bicep, nails digging into her flesh through the blazer and shirt of the uniform. His grip was painfully tight, keeping her from leaving, but still with her back turned to him. “What the- let go of me!” She craned her neck to look at him, trying to pull her arm away, but his grip only tightened, causing her to yelp in response. “No! Obviously, since you picked Ace, you’re the type of girl who likes being treated like this by guys. I’ve been nothing but nice to you all this time and you barely even look at me, so I guess it’s time for a strategy change. I can be just as much of a fuckin’ disrespectful prick as Ace, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t choose me.” “Don’t be an idiot!” “Fuck you, Prefect. You’ll be mine, not Ace’s, not anybody else’s.”

With one more sharp pull to the Prefect’s arm, he turned her around to face him before pushing her against the well. Pinned between him and the well, she had little choice other than to lean against him, fearful of falling into the well. Not that Deuce’s ever-present grip would allow it. His stare was piercing, as if he was gauging her reaction, which was fearful if her uneven breathing and wide eyes was anything to go by. Just like that day at the entrance ceremony. From her bicep, his right hand travelled upwards, holding the back of her head as he leaned in to kiss her. It was an inexperienced, almost sloppy, kiss. The Prefect’s hands shot up, pushing at Deuce’s chest to try and get him to step away, but he used his free hand to take hold of her hip, only bringing her closer to him, leaving her hands crumpled up against his chest awkwardly, unable to do much. The kiss lasted for seconds, but felt like hours to both of them for vastly different reasons.

“I didn’t want to do this.” Deuce said as they separated, heat radiating from his face, coated by a blush that made his words seem almost innocent. “But since girls like you seem to like guys who treat them with no respect, I hope this was good enough. I can do worse, if you’d still rather be with Ace.” The Prefect yelped as his grip on her hip momentarily tightened. “If I must, I can kill him, too. I will kill anyone for you. But I don’t have to, right? Tell me, Prefect.”

“Tell me you only want me.”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twst fanfiction #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #female reader #my writing #manipulation tw

[snowstark]

If you're still taking smut prompts then can I ask for 96 + 87 with starker please? Thank you!

87. “Fuck you.”

96. “You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later?”

amazing choices! i am def still taking prompts; it’s just going painfully slow. anyways, i made them roommates in college, i hope you don’t mind.

When Peter had decided to watch the youtube video titled “How to Self-Bondage 101” to experiment, he hadn’t meant to get this tangled up. No pun intended.

The instructions had been clear. Take the rope, loop it around his back, avoiding his shoulder blades, then cross it back over his chest with just enough slack that he could easily slip two fingers underneath.

And then he’d gone and decided to put a twist on it and improvised by slipping his arms underneath so that the rope restrained his forearms, folding them across his chest, which was, quite obviously, the worst decision he’d ever made.

Because now he was stuck.

And panicking.

He couldn’t figure out how to get himself unstuck.

And maybe if he wasn't freaking out so much, he would’ve been able to slip back out, maybe, but before he could try to do a fucking breathing exercise or something, he heard the telltale humming of—of—oh no. Keys jingled outside the door and Peter scrambled to his feet far too quickly, sending his desk chair skidding across the room.

“Tony!” he called out, and his voice came out strained and high-pitched in his panic. “Don’t—don’t come in!”

There was a pause, and then— “You okay, Petey-Pie?”

“Yeah, yes!” No. “And don’t call me that.”

“Well... you don’t really sound okay.”

“I am okay. I am. I’m just, uh—just, you know, doing that.” His face flushed red at the excuse he’d come up with, but hey, they were both guys in college, they’d both definitely had moments where they heard the other jacking off in the middle of the night and had pretended not to hear or notice, for both of their sakes. Peter wriggled desperately, and nope, it wasn’t working. He bit his lip, closing his eyes, and mouthed to himself, “Fuck.”

“Well, can I at least put the groceries inside? I’ll be quick, I’ll close my eyes, I promise, ‘s nothing I haven’t seen before, Pete—” And the doorknob twisted as Tony spoke teasingly, and Peter yelped a mortified, “No!”

But it was too late; Tony opened the door, and in Peter’s haste to—to do something, to try to somehow preserve an inch of whatever dignity he had left, he flailed, and fell backwards flat on his ass onto the cold hardwood floor. “Fuck!” he swore. That was going to bruise.

“Jesus, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you, I—” Tony broke off, staring as his jaw dropped at the sight of Peter’s state.

Peter closed his eyes, and his cheeks glowed with heat. This was officially the worst thing that had happened to him. Ever. “I told you not to come in,” he said weakly.

“I didn’t know you were—!” Tony abruptly broke off and kicked the door shut, placing the groceries carelessly on the floor. A few grapes spilled out of their plastic container and rolled a few inches away from the bags, but they both ignored it. “Christ, Pete. How the hell did you manage that?" He stepped forward, like he wanted to help, then stopped. "You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later?” He grinned, looking fucking delighted, because he was Tony, of course he was delighted.

“Fuck you,” Peter gritted out. “Fuck. Since you’ve already seen it, you might as well help me out.”

“Oh, I should, should I?” Tony raised his eyebrows teasingly. "Help you out how?"

Peter groaned. “Don’t be a dick, Tony.”

Tony hummed, sauntering over to his opened laptop, and laughed again. “Self-Bondage 101, Pete? That’s cute.”

Peter’s cheeks burned. He wasn’t—he wasn’t ashamed or anything, just—when Tony laughed and teased like that, it made him feel small.

“Yeah, alright, lemme help you. You look like you’ve been stuck for a while now.” Tony came over and Peter instinctively shied away, but Tony hooked a finger on the rope and reeled him in close. Close enough that Peter could smell his cologne. God, Tony smelled delicious. And the feeling of him—surrounding him, fingers working at the knots Peter had tied, touch ghosting over Peter’s skin as he gently yanked, it was all so much. Peter heard Tony’s smirk as he said, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Clearly.” Peter sagged in relief when he felt Tony pull the rope free, releasing his arms, and he finally opened his eyes, realizing that at some point, he'd closed his eyes. There was a teasing glint in Tony’s gaze, but also—there was more, something that he couldn’t quite get a read on— “Thanks.”

“Yeah, I gotcha.” Tony bumped his hip playfully against Peter’s, then went to pick the grapes up from the floor. “Steve said movie night’s in his room tonight. You coming?”

“Uh, no, no, I’ll pass.” He had a lot of class work. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to look Tony in the eye again.

Tony shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m heading there early. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.” He grabbed his phone, pocketed it, and headed for the door.

Peter numbly watched him, still unable to process that this had happened, when—

“Oh, and Pete?”

Peter blinked. “Yeah, Tony?”

Tony grinned. “Next time you wanna be tied up, just call me. You don’t need self bondage when you got me.” And he left, closing the door behind him, leaving Peter gaping with wide eyes in the room.

send me a smut prompt!

#starker #ironspider #tony x peter #tony/peter #young starker #college au #my fics #PLSFJDKS this one was fun to write !! thank you for the request <3 #young rdj is so <333 yes. #and yay! i’m actually getting through these prompts!! :)

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 3: Fly, Little Bird  (Written Chapter)

word count: 1.2k

Tendou never thought himself to be a selfless person. He didn't really consider himself a selfish person either, necessarily, but he promised himself a long time ago that he wasn't going to set aside his own dreams for the comfort of someone else. His ambition always came first, and the endgame had always been Paris. He supposed, in a way, that had never changed - so why was there a familiar pool of guilt settling at the pit of his stomach? 

The corner of his lips tugged downward at the slight, involuntary tremor that rippled through his hands - the ivory envelope with gold trim, 'La Maison du Chocolat'  written in a delicate golden font across its center clutched in between them. You knew about Paris - about his dreams, his ambitions - and not once have you given him any reason to doubt that you would regard this news in any way other than with a painfully large grin and arms spread impossibly wide, pride radiating off you like a sunbeam. So why...guilty. Thoughts wandered to the pickle jar. The drunken nights on the balcony of your tiny apartment; stupid, cheesy French music playing on one of your phones as the two of you laughed and talked about what Paris would mean for the both of you. Tendou knew exactly what to say every time, but when the conversation trailed back to you, you would grin, sometimes laugh, but your answer was always the same - 'I'll figure it out when I get there. I don't really care as long as I'm with you'.

Ah. There it was.

Paris was his dream. Not yours.

'I'll follow you anywhere, Ten.’

Even if it wasn't what you wanted.

He was neither a selfless nor selfish person, but he knew you, and you were as selfless as they came. You would give up everything you’ve worked so hard for to follow him if he asked, completely setting aside your own whims to entertain his. Tendou shoved the envelope into his bag and hurried up the stairs to your apartment, trying desperately to will away the unwanted feeling that gnawed at him as he flashed you his usual Cheshire grin.

 In 12 months, he would be leaving for Paris to begin a paid apprenticeship with one of the most famous Parisian Chocolate Boutiques, working directly under the famous Sculptor and Chocolatier Patrick Roger himself - and you would not be going with him.

There wasn’t any way to break that news to you now, not when you were still so unwilling to stand on your own. He knew he needed to nudge you out of the nest the two of you built, reminding you of your independence, and hopefully, the will to chase your own dreams. He grabbed the pickle jar from under the sink, took a little extra from his own savings, and began the search to find you a new nest, one with more room for you to finally learn to fly. 

“I’m sorry, you what?” Your body twisted toward him at the news, eyes bulging out of your skull. 

“I bought a new location. In Osaka! Trendy neighborhood, good lighting, pretty cheap actually-”

“When?! How?! With what-” your voice died in your throat as you picked yourself off the floor and scrambled to the kitchen. You ripped open the cabinet underneath the sink and fished around, a grunt of victory leaving you as you felt your fingers clasp around the familiar lid. Successfully retrieving the pickle jar from the depths of the cabinet, the faint glow of the kitchen light brought the full makeshift bank into view, and you couldn’t help but gawk when you saw its emptiness. 

“Tendou, why...” Your voice trailed off as your brain began to flood with worry. What made him decide to just buy a new location without talking to you first? It’s not like you would have said no. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of betrayal at the notion that he didn’t value your opinion as a business partner. Feet pattered against the linoleum as he rushed to stand in front of you, and your lifted your eyes to lock onto his own. The usual mirth that accompanied his features was ever present, but you knew him well enough to see the tiny sheen of something else that rippled over his features. Guilt?

“Paradis, it’s nothing against you, I promise. I just...I wanted it to be a surprise,” he explained, crouching down so he could maintain an even eye level with you. “I forgot you’re not a huge fan of them.” Your lack of response was probably beginning to gnaw at him, you thought, but whenever you tried to come up with something to say, it fizzled before it could reach your tongue.

“I saw your notebook, Y/n,” he mumbled. “You have so many plans for Paradis, and they’re all amazing! This new place has all the room to make your ideas on the page come to life. You could have a dining area, expand the menu, try new crazy things - this location can be your passion project; your baby.”  

Spontaneity wasn’t a new trait for Tendou. There were days where he would come home, tell you to collect your things, and wisk you away on a road trip for two days with no destination in mind, no other notice except a quick text to the team to take care of the shop while you two were away. Generally, you didn’t mind his antics, but this seemed next level, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling that it came with ulterior motives. 

Something else nagged at the back of your mind too - if you were going to Osaka, was Tendou coming with you? Was he staying here? What about the apartment? There’s no way he can keep it up himself. How did he get the money for a location in Osaka of all places-

Your brain shut down the moment Tendou’s finger poked in between your eyebrows.

“Paradis, you’re gonna get wrinkles. I already took care of everything, so ask me whatever you wanna know.” You sat on his words for a moment, rifling through the growing number of questions to deem which one most important.

“Are you coming with me?” His silence was loud enough to answer for him, and you looked down. You haven’t done any of this on your own before. You’ve always had someone’s arm held out to you to hang onto whenever life tried to rear its ugly head and swallow you. 

“I won’t be able to do it all myself, Ten.” Tendou frowned. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/n. You can always call me if you end up stuck. Also,” he pulled out his phone as if to confirm his next words. “Kuguri has been wanting to move out of Tokyo for a fat minute now. He said he’s totally down to go with you.”

The news of Kuguri accompanying you lifted a huge amount of pressure off you. At least you weren’t going up there alone. Your thoughts drifted to the potential Osaka had just granted you; A new opportunity, a blank slate for your ideas to come to life. You could finally try things you’ve always wanted to with this new location. The worry that plagued you began to dissipate, excitement taking over as you brought your eyes to meet Tendou’s once more.

“When are we supposed to leave?” Tendou grins, and places his hand over the one you had resting on top of the pickle jar.

“Three weeks.”

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun facts - 

I promise this is an Osamu x reader lmao just give it time

For Tendou’s apprenticeship, I combined two popular Parisian Chocolate companies: Patrick Roger, who’s style just seems so Avant Garde and very Tendou energy, and decided to make him the head of the popular chocolate boutique  La Maison du Chocolat, solely because I thought the name was very ~French~ and ~Fancy~ lol.

I know nothing of Chocolate or France tbh - I got my info from this Vogue Article that you can read here.

A/N: So sorry for the wait with Chapter three!! I was kind of struggling with which route would best keep the plot rolling the way I want it to. I hope you guys don’t mind that this chapter is entirely written, next chapter will def have more social media caps! As always, thank you so much for reading, feel free to shoot me an ask and engage or ask to be added to the Taglist!! 

ps: This wasn’t beta read so pls ignore the bad bits lmaofnjkasndfaksj

Taglist -

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid @keiarma @cherriechurros @halesandy​

I heard you guys aren’t getting tagged with updates and I’m p sure its because I’m st00pid so if this doesn’t work I’ll reblog and tag again! Sorry if you guys get notified multiple times lmao

#Itadakimasu!! #osamu smau #haikyuu smau #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smau #hq!! smau

[jt-artsandfics]

Hi! Noticed you were doing match ups for Star Wars so I just had to zip on over cause my obsession with the bad batch is running ramped 😅.

I’m about 5’6, female, shoulder length black hair and very dark brown eyes, lightly tanned skin. I wear glasses but I try to wear contacts more often since I feel no glasses looks better. Very much on the muscular side due to being athletic all my life. I’m a figure skater that’s been skating since I was very young, but besides that I’m a very artistic person, constantly drawing- hell plan to be a concept artist in the entertainment industry. And since I’m an artist, my style is more retro and baggy clothes, comfortable but stylish.

A little bit about me, I’m the quiet and shy type when I first meet with people. But once I get to know the person I’ll be able to open up more, I’ll hang out with lots of friends, go to wacky stores for a good laugh. Definitely the type where I want people to feel comfortable about whatever, whether it be sexual orientation, or what goes on behind closed doors. So I def want people to feel like they can talk to me about there problems and such. But also- shit when there’s TEA- girl SPILL IT!

On the side note, I’m someone that can’t sit still for long periods of time. I’m always doing something- always moving around, but when I’m focused I can stay in one spot for quite a while. Which brings me to my love of learning, I’m constantly learning about things- so I really love languages (speak four btw) and culture, love to learn about animals, historical facts and loads of another things. Going back to languages and culture, I badly want to travel the world, go to places like Madagascar and New Zealand- want to bathe with elephants, hike in the jungle just to get a chance to see wild gorillas, see the northern lights, there’s just so much I want to see and do. Sometimes I’ll bake in my free time, play video games with my sibling, binge watch shows and movies.

Well that’s me ^_^

I match you with....

Tech

-Tech finds it quite easy to relax around you, your someone he feels he can openly talk about anyrhign with from his work, knowledge and interest. That's how he takes to you.

-he loves teaching you things from small little maintenance on the ship to how to reset bones and first aid.

- Man's 6'4 king he towers over you and loves it. Tall nerd and his short athlete, he love you with and without glasses. He finds you beautiful in so many ways.

- He wonders how he got so lucky as to end up with someone such as you. How one of a million literally.

- Tech loves having you sit on his lap/agaisnt him while he works. You have fallen asleep agaisnt him on many occasions and it's one of the most peaceful moments he has.

-Tech draws but his is more blueprints and sketches of equipment and concepts on new things he wishes to build. He doesn't snoop to much in your art but he has caught glimpses of drawings.

-when you and the batch arrive on different planets he shares as much knowledge he has on it with you.

-of a night he loves having you wrapped in his arms asleep. He will run is fingers thought your hair as he reads late into the night.

-not as socially awkward as you would think, he just misses some social cues. He liked you from the start but didn't wish to say anything. You had to make the first move.

-watching you skate is so hipnotising to him. The first time he watched you was when he was originally working on more projects and he caught the sound of your skates on the ice.

- This man can carry echo so there is no doubt that he can piclnyou up and carry you when you fall asleep.

-soft nights with even softer whispers between you both.

- man has no right looking as sexy and handsome as he does first waking up glasses/goggles on the bench and his normal slicked back hair curly and falling over his eyes.

"Tech baby, it's very late let's go to bed" you yawn lightly resting your chin on his shoulder looking to the work bench he has scattered with tools and equipment.

"In a little Cyar'ika, let me finish this upgrade them I'm all yours" he says back to lightly. Goggles rested on his forehead as he shoots them a quick glance.

"Mmm, can I stay until you finish" you ask lightly. He nods moving back a little giving you space to move around the chair and climb onto his lap.

You curl up against his chest enjoying the comfort of him being in his blacks.

"I promise not to long Ner kar'taylir darasuum" the words roll of his lips almost like he had practiced them a thousand times.

Tech presses a soft kiss to.your forehead before focusing back on his project. Your eyes grow heavy as you press your cheek further into his chest.

"Sleep well Cyar'ika"

---------

Cyar'ika- Sweetheart

Ner kar'taylir darasuum - My love

#the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tbb tech #tbb #tech #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tech x reader #tech x you #the bad batch tech x reader #tbb tech x reader

[meetmeatthecoda]

(star emoji) for Grifting With The Enemy :D

Pumpkin!! 🧡🧡🧡 Hello, my dear friend, thank you so much for your endless interest & support!! 😍😍 And for giving me a reason to re-read GWTE, which I haven't done for a loooong time!! 😂😬 (But, the good news is, it low-key got me inspired to hurry up & finish it!! 😏) BUT - in the meantime - here's some BTS info from my re-read under the cut, which is a lot - fair warning - since it's a 4 chapter fic & counting!! ❤️

LOL I forgot how stressful it is coming up with names for random extra people in fics, I hate doing that LOL But I did think it was important to open with Red NOT being a merciless crime lord who kills anyone who displeases him, cause - while he does have that side to him when necessary - that's not who Red is or wants to be.

I liked including that little moment with Red & Dembe about the parallel parking. I love those father/son & brotp moments for them, they're just the best. I tried to sprinkle those in wherever I could in Red's POV in this fic.

I loved the mental picture of Liz - with glasses & beanie a la The Harem - just leaning casually against a bookshelf the first time Red sees her... & he's immediately captivated, just like in canon. Especially with her eyes, I can't NOT write any version of Red that is not completely blown away by Liz's eyes, I mean, come on I also thought it was important that he thinks she's much younger than she is (intentionally part of her persona) & I'm looking forward to writing the reveal of her true age in a later chapter.

I loved writing a Liz that instantly challenges Red, already having heard about him (& more than that, as revealed in chapter 2) & point blank telling him she may refuse the job bc she has a say too. I liked keeping - & even amplifying a little - that dynamic from canon!Liz of always surprising Red & keeping him on his toes, all while he's trying so desperately to stay ahead of her & impress her.

I LOVED writing the brush pass scene - that moment where Red realizes he has officially underestimated her - & LOL I completely forgot I wrote that part about the condom LMFAO wow past!Coda, mighty daring of you 😂😂😂

Plus, I couldn't help the bonus bit about her stealing his phone & tossing it to him to end the chapter, that was just so fun to throw in there!!

I liked opening chapter 2 with Red still thinking about Liz, just to show how she captured his attention, even before he finds out she's been stealing from him. And I liked writing that revelation without any anger on his part, with him understanding it wasn't a full-scale attack on his empire, she's just a thief taking well paying jobs where she can get them, & instead it just shows him how talented she is. I thought that was an important thing to clarify before moving forward.

I LOVED writing Red & Dembe surprising Liz in her apartment, especially the part with Red's snooping & being confused & surprised by what he sees there. I loved kind of creating/designing Liz's apartment to showcase her true self, not her "young thief" persona that Red falls for at first. I wanted it to be clear that Red is fascinated by her seeming duality from the start (canon LOL) as well as just straight-up attracted to her (also canon LMAO).

Also I gave Liz a loft apartment cause I've always loved those!!

And I LOVEDDD writing Red super confident about surprising her & looking forward to taking her off guard by settling in on the couch & all that macho man stuff, only to be rendered fucking dumbstruck when she comes downstairs with no pants on lmfao & I included that little detail of her usually wearing a knife on her leg to show she's not to be underestimated 😏 & I couldn't help but throw in there Dembe kicking the back of the couch, that made me cackle lmfao

I think the truce was important to establish asap bc I didn't want any secrets or lingering animosity between them. That's for canon 😒 Only flirting & sexual tension here, thank you very much.

I had to include Red being a gentleman & asking if she wanted to get dressed, but I also couldn't resist Liz being confident & careless about it, while still hiding tactfully behind the counter. I thought that was a cute exchange.

lmfao of course, I included their coffee preferences being noticed by the other, I think that's an obligatory thing in any Lizzington fic ever, I'm so guilty of that lmfao

I loved the idea of Red being ready to start on a classic Red's Blacklister Presentation but Liz once again stops him in his tracks (while still secretly being impressed by his presence, of course, & I even accidentally switched POVs for no reason to include that?? nice Coda lmfao) as well as trading barbs & quips with him while Red feels awful & guilty at any accidental slights bc he can't bear to insult her.

AM&R vs. AR&M whoops typo lol

I liked the little snippet of dark!Red we see in their conversation of consequences for his enemies, that way Liz sees a little bit of what he's capable of & Red sees how she's not phased by it.

And that last little flirtation & wink to finish the chapter - lol can't resist

Ooooh, I loved switching to Liz's POV (fully ha) for chapter 3, I enjoyed describing how head over heels she is for Red already, that was fun. I liked writing about her lil movie day & chores she's completed, as well as fleshing out her AU past a little with Sam & her young grifting experiences. And her burning her popcorn while daydreaming about Red cause... same 😏

Ooooh, phone conversations are always so fun to write between them, I love trying to get that perfect mix of joking & sincerity & flirting & pining & pressing the phone close to their ear.

I thought it was important to keep (or rather re-invent, since TPTB seemed to drop it like a hot potato 😒😒😒) Liz's intense interest & respect for psychology, especially as a reason for being attracted to Red, since it kind of mirrors one facet of his interest in her. Not to mention Red thinks at first that it's just a useless, do nothing degree for her LOL

Ohhh, I loved establishing that mutual respect & friendliness between Liz & Dembe early on, that's such a fave of mine, I've always loved their friendship & thought it had a lot of potential. Liz loves & respects Dembe for keeping Red safe & Dembe loves & respects Liz for being so dear to Red.

Ugh, I LOVED writing Liz so completely disarmed by Red's relative state of undress at his safe house (paralleling her pants-less parade in chapter 2, of course) bc sameeeeeeee girl.

I also had fun writing Red blabbing on about some story as he often does, meanwhile Liz has already picked the lock on the safe, once again impressing & surprising him while she admires his different passport pics. That was so fun.

And I loved the quick shift to just a little animosity between them with Red insulting her lockpicks & Liz flaunting her thefts from him. I think those little spats give a little electricity & tension to the relationship, even if they blown over quickly, which they always do. And the fact that Red apologizes & they shake hands & make up is very refreshing to me (since they never fucking do it in canon lol fml) & also it's an excuse to write a little teasing physical contact & sexual tension 😁😁😁

And damn, I forgot how fun it is to throw a little teasing jab in there at the end of a chapter, just for fun - probably bc I'm allergic to multi-chapter fics & never write them lmfao wow

Ahhhhhhhh. I remember how much fun I had writing this whole restaurant scene, partly bc it was a difficult & long process (trying not to make all the flirting & physical movements repetitive while fitting in all the necessary dialogue in a semi-non-boring way lol) but also bc it was so fun writing their back-and-forth while seated at a table alone with nowhere else to go & nothing to distract them. I also wanted to take the opportunity to show Red's genuine interest in her as a person & let them spend some quality time together for the first time. I loved the idea of them losing track of time & Dembe having to come interrupt them with a knowing smirk. Also I def referred to the Olive Garden website for the food they ate cause I'm lame lmfaooo

I thought it was cute to throw in that Liz almost couldn't find Red when she arrived but for the fedora marker he placed out for her & then when she's leaving, she can feel his gaze on her the whole way out. Little parallels like that are my guilty pleasure 😁

Omggg I forgot about the end of this chapter, I remember I wanted Red to surprise Liz yet again & I thought the dessert snuck into her bag was a cute touch. Plus, tiramisu is a favorite of mine 😋 I also tried to make the vibe of this phone call a little softer & more tentative, not so much on tender hooks with lots of tension as the previous ones have been, showing how they're getting used to each other & falling in love at a break neck pace lol

Welp, that's all 4 chapters that are posted buttttttttt a sneaky look at my document that I haven't opened for an embarrassingly long timeeeeeee shows my sketch for the rest of the fic which revealssssss....... a detailed 10 chapter map with an epilogue!! Wow, I forgot I sketched everything out in such detail, this isn't too bad, maybe I should actually write this 😂😂😂 And I promise I will, hopefully sooner rather than later!! ❤️❤️❤️

Well, there you go, Pumpkin, I hope that didn't take you too long to slog through & there was something enjoyable in there for you!! 😂 Thank you so much for your interest again, my lovely friend, & getting me excited about this fic again!! 🥰 Much love to you, always, Pumpkin!! 🧡

Fanfic Writers: Director's Cut

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #fanfic #Grifting With The Enemy #ask games #fanfic writers: director's cut #mine #ask #codewordpumpkin #thank you again my friend!! #:D #i hope you enjoy this #:) #much love!! #<3

[hummingluke]

among us

pairing: luke/ashton content warnings: major character death, blood, swearing word count: 2.9k

a/n: i finally wrote a thing! the among us au that absolutely no one asked for. it’s pretty dark and def not for everyone so no pressure to read at all, but if you do please please let me know what you think!

ao3 link

They’ve only been on Polus for two weeks. Two weeks, and already their crew of ten has dwindled down to four. When they’d first landed, and stepped off the dropship into the icy, biting air of the barely-habitable planet, the energy among the crew had been wary but overall positive. It’s no secret that Polus is the most dangerous base - a favourite haunt for impostors given its distance from other MIRA colonies and its general dark and dreary environment - but many of the crew were new recruits, excited to be visiting their first faraway planet and eager to conduct their research. The fact that an incident hasn’t occurred on Polus in a few months is a good sign, to them: a sign that maybe things are taking a turn for the better. They should have known it was only a matter of time.

The most recent death had been two days ago, and tensions had been thick among the remaining crew since. The meeting following the discovery of the body had been hours long as the last four argued over who could be an impostor. Luke had spent most of the meeting slumped in his chair, dread clutching at his heart as the very real possibility that none of them would ever make it off this damned planet began to sink in. Michael and Ashton’s voices had been hoarse from all the yelling by the end of it, and Calum seemed to be the only one satisfied with the final decision that no one would get thrown into the lava pit. It had only made Michael more suspicious of him, but Luke knows better. He’d seen the pain on Calum’s face when, a week ago, they’d thrown one of their own crewmates into the pit - a crewmate who’d turned out to be innocent, after all. Calum might seem stoic, but Luke can tell he has a gentle soul.

None of them had known each other before being sent on this mission, but spending two weeks trapped on a frozen planet with less than a dozen colleagues and a killer on the loose tended to provide for some rapid and intense bonding. Up until the most recent death, Calum and Michael had been two peas in a pod, often partnering up to complete their daily tasks and spending all of their free time together. Now that potential suspects are narrowing down, and with Calum’s general habit of not speaking unless spoken to, Michael has completely detached himself from his former friend. It makes Luke sad to see what seemed like such a strong bond break so quickly, but he doesn’t think it actually has anything to do with Calum himself. Michael’s paranoid of everyone, now, as evidenced by the way he’s watching Luke from the office doorway as Luke pours two mugs of stale coffee.

“Do you want me to pour you one?” Luke asks, attempting to ignore the scowl on Michael’s face. Michael doesn’t reply, instead giving Luke a once-over before walking away with a huff.

Luke clenches his jaw as he looks back down at the cups of swirling black sludge. He hates this. They’re scheduled to be on Polus for another month and a half, but more and more he finds himself hoping it’s over sooner than that, because he can’t stand the fear and distrust permeating every space on the base. He just wants to leave this hell, and he’s starting to care less and less whether that happens via the dropship, or a quick fall into the lava pit.

Luke dumps cream and sugar into one of the mugs until the coffee is almost as pale as him, and emitting a sickly sweet aroma, then he puts on his helmet and heads outside to the O2 building.

As Calum and Michael’s friendship developed (and then shattered) Luke himself had grown close with Ashton, the most experienced member of their crew and one impostor-survival story away from becoming somewhat of a legend at MIRA. None of them knew each other before, but everyone knows of Ashton. Luke’s known from the beginning that if he was going to survive this mission, Ashton would be the one to befriend. He was strong, and intelligent, and had a disarming stare that made other crewmates swear that he could tell whether someone was an impostor just by looking at them. Luke knows that isn’t possible, but the man certainly does seem to be a good judge of character. Well, fairly good.

Ashton’s working in O2 all day today. There had been some odd anomalies with the tree last night, and he’s spent most of the morning sitting at its roots, hunched over his tablet as he examines the data. It was how Luke had left him an hour ago when he popped in to change the oxygen canisters, and it’s how he found him now, tiny crease in his brow, though he looks more focused than confused.

“I brought you some coffee,” Luke speaks up softly from the doorway, not wanting to startle Ashton. “Thought you could use a break.”

Ashton’s small frown dissolves into a warm smile as he looks up at Luke. He sets his tablet aside with a sigh and holds his hand out, but when Luke hands him the mug, still steaming despite the trip outside in below-freezing temperatures, he sets that down as well and extends his hand once more. 

“Sit with me?” he asks, and Luke blushes ever so slightly as he takes Ashton’s hand and allows himself to be guided to a spot on the floor clear of roots and wires.

“How’s it going?” he asks as Ashton takes a sip and hums in satisfaction. Ashton’s the only person on the crew who actually likes the coffee here, and for the first few days Michael had liked to joke about how that must mean he’s an impostor.

“Well, I’ve ruled out sabotage,” Ashton replies, looking over at the tree as if it might suddenly decide to reveal its secrets. As senior researcher, Ashton is solely in charge of monitoring the tree, and Luke admires how much he takes his duties to heart. Everyone understands the work MIRA is doing is important, but Luke has never met someone as passionate about it as Ashton. “My best guess is that something flew by that upset the energy field. Probably an asteroid. With only four people, it’s getting harder to keep them away.”

It sounds to Luke like this is something to be concerned about, but Ashton seems unfazed as he takes another sip of his coffee, his thumb tracing the back of Luke’s hand where it rests on his knee, their fingers still intertwined. Ashton always appears unfazed, though. Apart from his screaming match with Michael the other day, he’s well-composed, carefully observant, and the voice of reason. Luke supposes that’s just what happens when you survive a dozen impostor attacks - if they don’t drive you insane, that is.

“Should we be worried?”

“The tree will be fine,” Ashton turns to Luke with that same smile that seems to be reserved just for him, and Luke’s stomach flutters, though he’s not sure if it’s from Ashton’s gaze, or his carefully-chosen words. He looks down at their hands, and when he gives Ashton’s a slight squeeze, Ashton squeezes back. “Hey, you’re safe with me, Lu. You know that, right?”

Luke nods. He wishes that Ashton would say more, would promise him that they’ll make it off this stupid base alive, but he knows better. Ashton doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

“Michael won’t stop glaring at me,” he mumbles, toying with the strap of his helmet with his free hand. “He’s making me nervous.”

“Michael’s fine. He’s just nervous, himself. We all are.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m always nervous.”

���You don’t seem nervous.”

“It’s not so bad when I’m around you.”

“Oh.”

It’s the closest either of them has come to actually acknowledging the feelings they’ve been dancing around for the past two weeks. What had started as soft smiles and fond glances, a brush of a hip here or there, has slowly graduated to hand-holding in their moments alone. Relationships are almost impossible in this line of work, and Luke has never been in one himself, so it’s all kind of a big deal to him, and he’s grateful that Ashton seems perfectly content to let him set the pace for whatever this is between them. Luke doesn’t really plan on letting it go much further, though. When this mission is over, they’ll leave this little bubble they’ve pulled over themselves, and go their separate ways, on to another mission, on another planet. They might not even cross paths ever again. MIRA is a big company, and the galaxy they operate in is even bigger.

Never really one for words, Luke’s not sure how else to respond to Ashton’s confession. He takes Ashton’s hand in both of his, plays with his fingers, and hopes Ashton understands it as the reciprocation it is.

They find Michael’s body the next morning. It’s a sloppy job, his throat slit right outside the sleep quarters, in full view of the security cameras. Luke almost throws up in his helmet as Calum, face devoid of any emotion, gently picks up the corpse, and Michael’s head rolls, a bit of blood trickling out from the gash in his neck.

“He’s still warm,” is all Calum says, before standing up and making his way towards the lava pit.

Luke shares a look with Ashton, then the other man bends down to pick up Michael’s discarded helmet. The collar is ripped and soaked in blood, the visor cracked. Ashton stares at it for a moment, expression unreadable, before following Calum to the pit. Watching them dump the body is the last thing Luke wants to do, but his feet pull him forward without a second thought, following after Ashton like a lost puppy.

It’s as unceremonious as the other five times they’ve had to do this. Calum hesitates for longer this time, kneeling at the edge of the pit, clutching Michael’s body, and for a moment Luke thinks he might just launch the both of them over the edge. When Ashton approaches him and rests a hand on his shoulder, Calum seems to be pulled from a daze. He rests his forehead against Michael’s for a moment, then slowly lets go. Michael’s body rolls out of his grip and over the cliff’s edge. Luke flinches at the dull thud and subsequent roar as flames immediately consume the corpse. Ashton adds Michael’s helmet to the row next to the pit, a tribute to their fallen crewmates. For most, it’s the only thing left of them at all, the only way they’ll ever be remembered.

It’s mandatory procedure to hold a meeting after a body is discovered. Luke’s as sullen as he was during the last meeting, but this time Calum and Ashton are the same. Nobody speaks for a good ten minutes. They all just stare at the table, undoubtedly thinking the exact same thing: there’s only three of them left, and someone at this table killed a person less than an hour ago.

Calum’s the first to move.

“I can’t fucking do this again,” he grunts, standing up from the table so quickly that his chair falls back. “I can’t- I’m going to check on my samples. I can’t do this right now.”

Ashton looks just as surprised as Luke feels as Calum walks out of the office. They turn to each other, an entire conversation taking place between them without either saying a word, until Luke shakes his head in denial.

“No, he wouldn’t.” He wishes he sounded more convinced. “He couldn’t. Not Michael.”

Calum wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, he did one time, accidentally; he stepped on a bug in the lab with his massive boots and then stressed about it for days afterwards. He could never do it intentionally, though, right? He was quiet, but he was a good colleague. A good person. Not a killer. At the very least, he could never do... that, to Michael.

“I can’t believe it either, Lu, but who else could it be? Me?”

“No.” Luke has never been more certain of anything in his life.

“You?” Ashton asks, inevitably. Luke doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Ashton answers for him. “No. So who’s left?”

Luke can’t accept that, yet, and so he racks his brain for a different answer. His eyes fill with tears of frustration and resignation.

“Well, what do we do now?” he finally asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“We keep doing what we always do,” Ashton replies, voice steady and sure. “We do our job. We stay together. We watch each other’s backs and we fucking make it to the end of the two months. We survive. And if we get the chance, we…”

Luke’s grateful that Ashton doesn’t finish the thought. Calum’s words from the meeting three days ago ring through his head, accompanied by a nagging feeling of guilt and shame.

“If we kill them, even to avenge, we’re no better than they are.”

“I don’t want to,” Luke murmurs. “I’m so tired of it, Ash. I can’t do it anymore.”

His vision is so blurry, he doesn’t realize Ashton’s reached out until his thumb runs along his cheekbone, collecting the tears under his eye before they can fall to the floor. He moves to grasp Luke’s chin, turning his head until Luke’s forced to look at Ashton, hazel eyes piercing his soul.

“You don’t have to, Lu.”

It’s so heavy, so final, that Luke wonders whether Ashton knows more than he’s letting on.

That evening, Luke slumps against the bathroom wall, watching Ashton get ready for bed. As the other man bends over the sink to rinse his face, Luke toys with the knife in the pocket of his jumpsuit, trying to work up the nerve to do what he has to do.

He’s known all along that it was only a matter of time before it came to this, but he’d hoped, he’d wished, foolishly, that he’d have more time. More time to think of a way out of this, for himself and for Ashton, maybe for the other crewmates. If not that, then at least more time to just feel. Years of working for - no, of being a slave to - the fringe group trying to take down MIRA meant years of wasted moments, of aborted feelings and almost-friendships, years of having the rug pulled out from under his feet every time he felt he was finally planted on solid ground. Luke hasn’t met someone like Ashton in so long, someone who makes him feel like he can finally breathe, who gives him hope for something more, and he just wants some fucking time. But, since when has he ever gotten what he wants?

He meets Ashton’s gaze through the polished metal sheet that acts as a mirror. The scratches and rust spots somewhat distort their faces from this distance, and make them both look much older than they are, though that could have more to do with the years of endless work and trauma they’ve both been through. 

Ashton smiles, and while it does reach his eyes, it’s a tired one. Luke swallows hard. Ashton turns off the tap, picks up his toiletry kit, and heads out of the bathroom, pausing with his hand hovered over the light switch. 

“You done in here?” he asks, and Luke hums.

“Was waiting for you.”

Ashton huffs an almost-laugh and shakes his head as he flicks off the light. 

“You’re a sweetheart.”

The compliment makes Luke’s stomach drop as he follows Ashton down the hall to his private quarters.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks warily. “I’m scared of…y’know.”

“Of course you can.”

Luke sways in the doorway as Ashton turns his back to him once more, crouching down to open the small locker next to his bed. Luke grips the knife in his pocket, takes a deep breath, and counts to three. Killing has never come easy to him, but this is, by far, the hardest one yet.

Ashton shuts his locker and stands up, and when he turns back around, Luke has the knife pointing at his throat. One swipe, and Ashton will crumble to the floor, and then Luke can go kill Calum while he sleeps, and then he can leave this fucking planet and try and forget about the horrible, horrible things he’s done here, and go and do more horrible things somewhere else, because it never fucking ends, does it?

“Lu,” Ashton breathes, composed as ever. He’s not pleading, like the others did if Luke was slow enough to give them a chance to do so, and he doesn’t sound particularly surprised, either. He sounds...sad. Disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” Luke tastes hot, salty tears on his chapped lips. “I- I have to. They’ll kill me if I don’t, or worse.”

Ashton’s gaze flickers between Luke’s face and the knife, glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights as Luke’s hand shakes.

“You don’t have to, Luke,” Ashton repeats his words from earlier, confirming Luke’s suspicion that he already knew Luke was the impostor, perhaps all along.

Luke shakes his head roughly.

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccups. “I have orders.”

Ashton’s own eyes are hazy, and Luke knows it’s now or never, but he can’t bring himself to move, to take one more step forward and swipe the blade. He watches, frozen, as Ashton slowly closes one hand around his extended wrist, pushing down so the knife is no longer level with his throat. Ashton’s other hand comes up, and Luke hears the soft click before he actually sees the gun, pointed straight at his head.

“So do I.”

#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #my writing #luca posts stuff

[darlingpeter]

try my luck.

here’s the long-awaited second part to i believe it could be, though it could be read as a stand-alone! eddie follows up on his promise and he and the reader have a good cute date night. the title comes from the song fool for love by lord huron, which i’ve been listening to a lot lately. 

pairing: pre-movie!Eddie Brock x reader

warnings: none, there be kissin

length: 1,864 words

part one - part three

Your heart raced as you stood in the hallway in front of Eddie’s apartment door.

You raised your fist to knock before quickly lowering it, taking a deep breath, and checking a text from Eddie one more time to make sure that you had the correct apartment number. 

Why were you so nervous? 

You had never been so wound up for a date before, at least as long as you could remember. Maybe part of it was because he was the Eddie Brock, who has traveled the world searching for truth and seeing all kinds of beautiful things in his travels. 

And he saw enough of that beauty in you that he wanted to take you out?

You blushed, far too excited to let self-doubt root itself in your fluttering stomach. In a moment of courage, you raised your fist once more to rap on the door a few times. You heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and after a moment, it opened, revealing an absolutely beaming Eddie. “Hey!” He greeted. “Come on in!” 

He ushered you inside the apartment, and you got to take a good look at the interior. There was a worn, comfy-looking couch and a coffee table opposite a TV, a small kitchen that looked like it had been recently cleaned, and a kitchen table with a closed laptop and a few piles of papers and notebooks. There were a few concert posters and news spreads framed on the walls, and you smiled. It wasn’t a cookie-cutter picture of the perfect apartment, instead it was lived-in and homey. Eddie noticed you looking around and grew sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I, uh, cleaned up a little bit. Sorry if it’s still a little cluttered.” He said nervously.

You grinned up at him. “It’s a really nice place, Eddie. It feels very you.” The tension in his shoulders lessened. It was comforting to know that he was at least a little bit as nervous as you were, and you found yourself relaxing as well. 

You sat down on the couch in front of the coffee table, where two plates of re-plated Thai takeaway were sitting. He had texted you earlier in the day to get your favorite order, but the lack of surprise didn’t make the gesture any less heartwarming. You heard the fridge door open and close as you were admiring the spread, and then Eddie was taking a seat next to you on the couch, holding a cold beer out to you. “As promised.” He said with a smirk.

You took it from him, cracking it open and taking a sip as he did the same. From there, the two of you grabbed your plates and tucked in, making small talk about the things that you had each done since you had seen each other last. Just like the last time you were in a position like this, conversation came easily, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself getting into a good flow and eventually telling Eddie about something that one of your friends did years ago that still made you laugh, pulling up the video proof you had of the incident and making him laugh so hard that he nearly choked on his drunken noodles. 

When the food was gone, you saw Eddie shift on the couch like he was going to begin cleaning up, but you quickly snatched both of the plates up and were halfway to the sink before he could make a noise of protest. “You’re hosting and bought dinner, I’ve got this.” You chirped, and he shook his head with a smile, grabbing the few empty bottles on the coffee table and following you into the kitchen to dispose of them. 

As you put the first plate into the drying rack, Eddie opened the fridge to get a couple more bottles, popping the caps off and putting one next to you on the counter. You drank as you finished the dishes, and by the time you were done, Eddie had thrown on some music and was leaning against the counter next to you, bobbing his head along to the Van Halen song that was playing softly in the background. 

“Don’t know if I took you for a classic rock type.” You teased as you drained the sink and hung the towel up to dry, glancing over to a retro-looking Def Leppard tour poster hanging on the wall, and he shrugged. 

“I listen to other things, but it’s always a good mood.” 

You grinned, drying your hands off, grabbing your half-full beer, and hoisting yourself up to sit on the island counter across from where he was leaning. “I’ll cheers to that,” You saluted, and he clinked the neck of his bottle to yours with a laugh.  

The two of you continued to chat, eventually moving back to the comfort of the couch. Eddie told you stories from his travels as you finished off the 12-pack in the fridge and sipped on a few fingers of whiskey that he had poured for you. He explained about a couple interesting encounters with locals when he was doing international work, and about a bad experience he had in a karaoke bar in Vegas when he was doing a story on the strip. The way he told stories had you completely transfixed, and you could tell that it was a skill that made him such a good reporter. You ended up pretty close to one another on the couch, you leaning into his side with your legs tucked under yourself and his arm around you, the other free to gesture as he talked. 

After the end of a particularly uplifting story about an experience he had in New York, your empty glasses sitting on the coffee table, he let out a sigh, sinking more into the couch and smiling down at you. “You know, you can tell me to shut up whenever you get sick of hearing my voice, right?.” 

“Why would I do that?” You asked, nudging him in the ribs with your shoulder.

“I don’t know, I don’t want you getting the impression that I’m just speaking to fill space, y’know? You’re just really easy to talk to.” You looked up at him to see a slight blush color his cheeks. 

Your face grew warm as well. “I’m not complaining,” you quipped. He chuckled, blue eyes drifting over your facial features in the moment of silence that followed. You found yourself doing the same, glancing down at his lips and feeling the air in the room electrify. You really wanted to kiss him.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, Eddie was slowly beginning to move closer, eyes bright and alert for any sign that you didn’t want to take the step, but you didn’t give him the chance to misinterpret anything and pressed forward eagerly, capturing his mouth in a kiss. 

It was chaste at first as the two of you got a feel for each other, but it wasn’t long before his hand was coming up to cup your face. His mouth was opening to yours, letting you get your first real taste of him, and you could only imagine how much you tasted like booze, but you didn’t care because Eddie was kissing you in a way that you hadn’t been kissed in a long time.

The first time you pulled back for air, Eddie’s hands on your hips guided you to straddle his solid thighs and settle in his lap. You felt giddy as he pressed his mouth to you again, this time on the line of your jaw, and you sighed, keeping one hand on his chest while the other gently raked your nails through the hair at the back of his head. The action had him relaxing even further into you, gripping your hips and pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

You could only imagine how the two of you looked from an outside perspective going at each other like restless, horn teenagers, and the thought alone made you giggle breathlessly, tugging Eddie’s head away from where he was sucking a mark onto your neck to reconnect your lips, licking into his mouth and savoring the noise of contentment that he made in response. 

It wasn’t until you smoothed your hands down Eddie’s abdomen and tugged at the front of his belt that he pulled fully away from you, gently taking hold of your wrist and bringing your hand up to rest it on his stubbly cheek. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, sweetheart.” He said gently. “As much as I’d love to, I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink tonight to go farther than this.”

The look on your face must have made him nervous because panic bloomed in his eyes, and he took in a quick breath as if he was going to say something. You quickly silenced him with a peck to the lips and a smile, which he returned with a look of relief. “You’re right.” You said with a sigh as he nipped at your jaw. 

“I can make it up to you later, I promise,” He told you lowly, clearly having gotten his confidence back after he had set the boundary, hands smoothing over your lower back under the fabric of your shirt and leaning in to bite at your bottom lip. You kissed him back, trying to pour everything you could into it because he had just confirmed that he wanted to see you and do this again, and the idea alone had warmth blooming in your chest. 

The two of you continued to make out and stay cuddled together on the couch until a glance at your phone had you groaning. “It’s getting late, I’d better get out of your hair.” 

“I’ll get you an Uber.” He said, tapping at his phone for a minute before tossing it aside and pulling you in for another kiss. “And for the record, I really don’t mind having you in my hair.” He remarked, which made you laugh. 

You gathered your things and Eddie walked you to where the uber was waiting, your fingers intertwined with his. “Let’s do this again soon.” You told him, and he kissed you one more time as an affirmative. 

“Text me when you make it home, ok?” 

“I will.” 

He gave you one last beaming smile and squeeze of your hand before you got into the backseat of the waiting car, and he waved as it pulled away from the curb. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol left in your system, but you felt giddy about the way that the night had gone, and you were buzzing in excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

“The two of you are really cute together.” The uber driver remarked, and she gave you a smile in the rearview mirror. You thanked her genuinely, smiling and blushing red.

As you looked out the window of the moving car, you couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something really good. You could just tell.

-

as always, all reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated! i’m trying to work writing back into my regular routine because it’s something that i’ve missed, let me know if there’s something specific you want to see from me!

i’m currently working on an nsfw third part! if you are interested on seeing it here, please let me know! :-)

#eddie brock x reader #venom x reader #eddie brock #venom #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock fluff #eddie brock one shot #my writing

[letsperaltiago]

a calm surrender to the rush of day

Jake’s had a few too many beers when he’s sent back home to Amy and his still relatively new son. It’s all good and cute, promise. Peak domestic Peraltiago. This oneshot is based on a prompt on this list.

#98: "I think we should have another"

Read on AO3 here

Amy was fast asleep in their bedroom when the sudden sound of the front door lock clicking and shifting followed by a half-hearted slam jolted her awake. For a very brief second, with her heart galloping in her chest as a result of the shock, Amy was utterly disoriented and the uneasy feeling was definitely not peculiar when you happened to live in a city that was ranked way too high on the Top 10 Most Dangerous Cities in America – a club she did not particularly enjoy being a part of. Although, as fast as it had encased her body to begin with, the shock quickly wore off the second she heard shifting and rumbling paired with a “shit” coming from what she figured out must’ve been the living room.

Jake, she realized, suddenly remembering why he wasn’t currently beside her in bed but rather out with some friends from the academy – or, at least, was.

In an attempt to put the final puzzle pieces in place she leaned over to grab her phone wondering how long he’d out and about for. The time revealed itself across her lock screen picture of Jake, fast asleep on their couch a few days after their son’s arrival with said son resting beneath his hands and on his chest. 3:11 AM – no wonder why she could barely keep her eyes open. There was a second of wondering if she should just turn over, go back to sleep and let Jake come join her whenever he was ready, but something else on the screen caught her eye before she could ultimately decide on doing so: 3 texts from Rosa with the last being from around 30 minutes prior.

Rosa Diaz – 12:39 PM Dude, Jake is horrible. He won’t shut up about you and the baby and for some reason the other guys from the academy seem to be eating it up. I hate it. What have you done to him?

Rosa Diaz – 1:56 AM Nvm. I take it back. He just paid a second round of beers to celebrate, and I quote, “His miracle baby”. Please get pregnant more. Means more free booze.

Rosa Diaz – 2:47 AM Def spoke too soon. He just threw up at my feet. We’re waiting outside the bar for his cab. I’m sending him home to you. Texts me when he gets there. Also: good luck lol. He’s stupid drunk.

Almost as if Jake had read the text as well, as to emphasize its point, Amy could hear him stumble into the bathroom across the hall to, what she chose to believe, grab his toothbrush but instead knocking over the glass holding it generating a loud commotion which tore throughout the entire apartment.

Amy’s head immediately as per instinct shot in the direction of her 3-month old’s crib, which stood against the wall on her side just a few feet away. Apart from the limited amount of Catholic traditions she’d grown up with living with her parents she wasn’t particularly religious, but right then and there she internally prayed that her son, who she’d spent an hour getting back to sleep just 3 hours ago, wasn’t woken up by her father’s drunken circus. She held her breath as a few, way too long seconds went by: no cry. Amy’s chest dropped in relief.

Moments like these were tiny victories that she as a brand new first-time mom held onto for dear life. In general, though she had nothing to compare to, her little boy wasn’t a particularly difficult baby but the past few days had been a bit rough on the little family: rough to the point where Amy had to push Jake out the door earlier that evening because he didn’t want to leave her behind with a fussy baby. But, more than ever before, Amy was confident, telling him it would be a waste for him to stay home and miss out on some fun; he should go out and she’d be fine. He’d ended up going. Although it was borderline against his will with half-worried eyes that Jake had crossed the threshold to exit their apartment, while repeating over and over again that she could and should call him if things turned out to be too much: he’d grab the first cab he saw back home.

Amy loved this considerate and worried side of Jake but it also turned out to be quiet unnecessary that night. Besides the hour from hell of fussiness at midnight, the evening alone with her son had gone by pretty smoothly – she’d actually made quite an enjoyable experience out of it. First of all, right after he’d had left, Amy ate the dinner Jake had prepared for her in advance on the couch with Flynn lying next to her in his little nest, talking and admiring his small sounds and smiles. God, she loved him so much and there was no TV-show or movie in the world that could beat the incredible sight of her son clumsily waving around his tiny legs and arms in his green pajama-onesie. Then, after bathing and changing him, she’d fed him to make sure he was completely ready for bed and by 8 PM she was silently smiling down at, admiring, her very own tiny sleeping human as he dozed off in his crib. Losing track of time was incredibly easy these days, both from the lack of sleep but also the huge amount of love for said little human, but after making sure (for the 32nd time) that Flynn was well asleep Amy had, trusty baby monitor in hand, retreated to the living room. There, with a tiny glass of white wine in hand, she’d managed to finish today’s The Times’ crossword puzzle - something Flynn had interrupted a couple of times that day – before she’d felt an inevitable wave of tiredness creep up on her. Once ready, having gone through her own routine plus checking up on the, to her pride and joy, still sleeping baby, Amy went to bed where she’d slept peacefully until her son had claimed her attention a few hours later. So even though Jake was her favorite person to hang out with, her evening had been great and, all in all, she wouldn’t mind doing it again  

Now here she was once again awake although this time it was not her baby causing the distraction from sleeping but rather her apparently very drunk husband stumbling around the bathroom. The fact that he hadn’t been loud enough to wake up their son had probably (for sure) helped, but also, Amy couldn’t be mad at Jake when she’d been the one to basically force him to go out and have fun. So, after giving up on falling back asleep figuring it’d be hopeless with Jake stumbling around the apartment, she instead took matters into her own hands and made her way to the bathroom. Here, to her amusement, the sight of her rather nicely dressed husband, unruly curls spilling onto his forehead, was barely able to stay awake and standing upright while brushing his teeth.

“Hey there,” she leaned her hip against the door frame before crossing her arms in front of her chest adding to it a teasing smile.

“Oh god!” from the way he almost choked on his tooth brush, Jake was obviously startled by her sudden appearance but quickly avoided choking with a sad attempt at smooth recovery by clumsily spitting the toothpaste into the sink getting it all over his lips in the process.  “I’m szo szo szorry,” the words tumbled from his mouth much like she imagined he’d tripped and fallen over various furniture and items on his way into the apartment just a few moments ago. “Dridn’t mean tro wake you.”

“Well…” she shrugged nonchalantly not really minding mostly because drunk Jake was a hilarious mess she’d missed during their pregnancy, but also partly because she knew he’d be paying the painful price in the morning. “You did.”

Immediately, as if he was a puppy whose tail had just accidentally been stepped on, Jake’s previously insouciant demeanor switched into a intoxicated version of his famous worried frown. Though the second she could tell panic was forming in his drunkenly fatigued eyes, she was quick to step in and avoid guilting him.

“But it’s okay,” her tired but nonetheless somehow always warm eyes worked their best to comfort him, hip nudging her off the doorframe and into a short journey to where her husband had shifted into a leaning position with his back against the sink, toothbrush desperately hanging from the left side of his mouth. His eyes, though dazed and barely able to stay open, followed her every move towards him closely but he was still startled when she’d come close enough for him to feel her breath on him and had sassily snagged the dangling toothbrush out of his mouth (careful to not hurt him in the process, of course).  

“As long as you don’t wake up your son,” she raised an eyebrow daringly only to be met by a shocked expression that told her he still wasn’t entirely over that bold toothbrush-move of hers, and was just barely managing to listen to what she was saying solely because of the mention of Flynn. He knew that the baby was an angel (duh, he was his and Amy’s creation) yet Jake was also very much in touch with reality which was that said son also hadn’t managed to sleep through the night yet (which according to his go-to parenting book Cry Hard was normal). Therefor even drunk Jake also knew that every second his son was asleep was to be handled as carefully as you would a bomb, and the mention of him possibly waking him up was enough to sober him up – or at the very least have him feel like it for a second.

“Luckily,” Amy proceeded, placing her hands on his chest before sliding them up to rest on his shoulders, “you didn’t.”

Paired with a heavy sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath in suspense, she instantly felt his shoulders drop in relief. Needless to say that Amy loved the way her husband cared greatly about his new father-role. Sometimes to the point where Jake, very unnecessarily, would push himself down an endless rabbit hole of doubt, where he, Amy had come to find out relatively early on, could only be calmed down by her ordering him to go lie down and so she could place tiny Flynn on his (incredible) father’s chest. Only then, with his son looking up at him with curious brown eyes or even just being fast asleep, Jake could feel his heart rate slow down significantly and the anxiety fade. His son was here on his chest, tiny heartbeat against his big one and they were both okay. It was love and that was all that mattered.

So yes, Jake’s father-role was very important to both him and her, but for tonight, Amy quickly decided, Jake was allowed to be just drunk-Jake. She had no problem taking full responsibility for Flynn-duty that night, and, even though neither of them kept scores or cared about the unspoken tally, she also knew Jake would make it up to her another night.

“So Flynni iz ztill azleep?” Jake whispered loudly not actually managing to control his voice as intended. His sluggish, wondering eyes reminded Amy of the look on her milk-drunk 3-month old’s face right after a feeding which made it even more obvious that Flynn Peralta was very much her father’s son and would grow up to be an exact copy.  

“Yes, Flynni,” she giggled emphasizing the nickname her husband had come up with, “is still very much asleep. But he won’t be for much longer if you don’t quiet down,” her hands slid up Jake’s neck to cradle his jaw, his tooth brush still in her hand.

“Zorry,” he smiled sheepishly actually managing to whisper this time. “You’re ze bestest mom in ze attire world, Amy Zantriago.”

“Hm,” she squinted her eyes jokingly, “maybe I should just put back that tooth brush because now you’re just talking crazy.”

“Nooo,” the whine that escaped her husband was childish as he simultaneously pulled her in for a clumsy, giggly kiss that’d cover her mouth in his toothpaste remains – unsurprisingly, drunk-Jake was not a very precise tooth brusher and had a toddler’s amount of basic skills. “Ze only crayzay here is me. Crayazay ‘bout my WIFE!” unable to control himself he half-yelled out the last word causing Amy to make a quick decision and shove the toothbrush back into his mouth. This, besides yet another surprised and confused expression greeting her, seemed to work and would hopefully keep him quiet till he made it to bed where he could pass out.

“Hush, Peralta,” and he immediately did. He knew his always very convincing wife only had good intentions (which making sure their son stayed asleep ultimately was) and whilst she picked up where he’d left of to finish brushing his teeth for him he, like the inner toddler the alcohol ignited in him, stayed put against the sink.

A few minutes later, still managing to stay somewhat silent (apart from constantly trying to whisper sweet nothings and stupidities into her ear meanwhile she struggled to brush his teeth and wash his face) Amy lead Jake to their bedroom which, for once, was for unsexy reasonz (with a z, yes). Immediately as soon as it was within what his drunk brain considered a safe distance, Jake’s body caved and dropped to the soft welcoming surface of their bed. Amy quickly figured that it was probably for the best and she should take advantage of Jake finally staying still, meaning she carefully started undressing him, and it had seemed that he was passed out right up until she popped the third button of his flannel and his eyes shot open along with a sneaky smirk.

“Amez, Iz tonight zhe night that we become PILFs?”

Amy frowned as she reached the last button and then pushed the flannel off of his torso. “PILFs?” She wordlessly prompted him to sit up as to allow her to remove the flannel entirely only to be followed by his undershirt being lifted off via his head – something she’d done a million times before but most cases being for other reasons.

“Parentz I’d Like To Frick,” he smiled in appreciation at his own genius invention before stealing a kiss when Amy happened to be close enough to reach by simply leaning in a bit. It did earn him a small giggle like he wished but then also a light shove back.

“Stop that and help me instead, would you?” She was far from mad at him which he could tell from the way she couldn’t keep an entirely straight face but on the other side of things Amy clearly wasn’t having the easiest time undressing her full grown husband either. Suddenly the task that was changing Flynn 7 times a day was put into a quite interesting perspective: a perspective she didn’t necessarily need.

And so, feeling that his wife was doing all the hard work, he helped. It might’ve taken him 5 minutes to pop open and zip down his jeans, but he succeeded and it was with way too much pride that he kicked his jeans off in a madman-ninja manner which resulted in them flying across the room to touchdown by the door. Normally Amy would demand he put them in the laundry bin but for once she couldn’t care less. The pants being off itself was a great victory.

“Nicely done, babe,” she joked trying to ignore the fact that 3 simple tasks had taken them almost 40 minutes by now, prompting her to playfully throw his night shirt in way so it landed on his head. “Now put that on and you’re good to pass out for the night.”

She walked back over to her side of the bed, throwing in a glance at Flynn in his crib to make sure he was still well and asleep, before crawling back under the covers and pushing the part on Jake’s side aside to invite him in.

It was a matter of seconds before he dropped into place but instead of passing out immediately as Amy had expected him to, her husband shuffled across the bed’s invisible center line wordlessly asking for snuggles that Amy, of course, couldn’t decline. She loved that Jake went out and had some fun by himself, although, at the end of the day, nothing would ever beat having him home with her – even if it meant dealing with an all at once incapable and horny man child.

So, by all means, she lifted her arm to welcome him to make himself at home under it, felt his head moving to on top of her chest, before she put it back down in a soft grip around his shoulders. His free arm would then soon enough wrap around her middle earning him a soft peck to the forehead.

“I love you, Amz,” he mumbled tiredly into her shirt.

“I love you too, Jake,” she smiled leaning her cheek against where she’d just planted the kiss.

“And I love our baby. Zo much. I mizzed him all ze night,” he mumbled on the verge of falling asleep.

And while she always did expect it these days, right then and there when she very honestly in the moment least did expect it, a loud cry as if scripted, tore through the darkness of their bedroom. A small sigh escaped her body although she was couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation.

“… Sounds like he missed you too, babe.”

“Oh no,” Jake whined basically imitating Flynn to a point where it was scary as Amy scooted out from his snuggle and the newfound warmth of their bed. “I woke him up. I’m zo zo sorry.”

In the meantime Amy had made her way to the crib.

“You didn’t wake him up, honey,” she made sure to reassure Jake of the fact before picking up the tiny crying figure before promptly looking at the time on her night stand, where her suspicion was immediately proved to be right. “It’s 4 AM: he’s just hungry.”

Not many things in this world were sure or certain, but if there was one thing that was then it was definitely Amy’s knowledge when it came to her son’s schedule. Yes, Jake got up with Flynn just as frequently as she did, but contrary to her, Jake didn’t take note of the time and just did what his son demanded without interest in cracking the code to their baby’s life-pattern: as long as he got to care for him and make him happy again, the logistics were somewhat irrelevant to Jake.

“You sure?” he complained nervously questioning his wife as she sat back down in bed with Flynn cradled to her chest.

“Yes, completely.”

With her always being right and all, Jake settled for accepting his wife’s statement quieting down to take in the sight of their son fumbling to find where his mother had lifted up her shirt in order to feed him. Seconds later, like the peace that followed after a huge sky-cracking thunderstorm, silence settled upon the family of three letting the two adult of said family know that Flynn had once again worked out how to still his hunger. Apart from the very faint sounds of suckling, the occasional little pop followed by a wail when he’d lose his mouthful and complain until Amy managed to help him back on track, idyllic silence of the night wrapped up the apartment as if Jake had never interrupted it just an hour prior.

It was in moments like these where Jake became untouchable, completely disregarding any physical or mental state he might be in, and simply gave in to soaking in the faultless felicity parenthood provided him with. He’d never been anything but happy with Amy but this life he’d been living for 3 months now was even better and beyond any imaginable expectations he’d had. Flynn, though being the one who was completely dependent on his father’s care, had given Jake life a renewed meaning he hadn’t known or felt close to before. A meaning he’d originally been so afraid of even considering before he met Amy but had come to realize he wanted with her and only her.

He wanted 4 AM cries. He wanted the sight of Amy, depending on what her energy level was, either dozing off to or actively admiring their son latching onto her swelled chest as he suckled on it. He wanted the rush of pride every time Flynn made a new sound even if it was simply bringing into existence a new pitch when he squealed or whimpered. Jake wanted all and everything, big and small, as long as it was with them.

So of course, as soon as Flynn was placed stomach down on Amy’s chest after being done eating and burped, earning himself a sweet praise when he succeeded, Jake was back to snuggling into his wife’s side. There was no minding sharing her chest with the tiny human as it provided Jake with the perfect combination of cuddling with his wife and the incredible sight of their stupefying son slipping back into a peaceful state of sleepy satisfaction.

“He’s sro prerfect, Amy.”

“I know, babe,” with a hand safely cradling and stroking the back of Flynn’s decently hairy head she mumbled her reply obviously in the early stages of dozing off herself. The other hand, this arm having returned to its spot around Jake, was resting against her husband’s back stroking it in a synchronized motion.  

“Like, he’z like getting ze one exact toy you wanted ze mostest in your Happy Meal as a child.”  

She would laugh out loud at his comparison, finding it incredibly endearing, but she was by then too exhausted and only managed to form a tired smile – also the laughing would cause her chest and then automatically Flynn to quiver which she was not about to dare.

“He really is,” she mumbled.

“I think we shrould have anozer.”

It was easy to tell that the comment was partly genuine and sweet but also partly… intoxicated. Though Amy didn’t doubt the fact that Jake wouldn’t mind more children, she also didn’t doubt the fact that he definitely wouldn’t remember this conversation when he woke up some hours later with a hammering headache and zombie-like state of mind.

“I think I have enough on my hands with you two.”

Yes, she did see them having at least two kids but one newborn was definitely more than enough at the moment, plus  they had plenty of time to consider further additions to the family once Flynn would be older and Jake not completely wasted. Although it was nice to hear some truth about his inner thoughts spill from her drunk husband, there was no doubt in her mind that there was no need to hurry. They would get there eventually and for now they were already so very happy.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of Jake’s lips planting a soft, half-sloppy kiss to, first, their son’s head, then, then her neck. Then small movements beneath her hand on Flynn was next, quickly peaking her curiosity and winning over her exhaustion then forcing herself to open her eyes. Immediately feeling glad she did so because she was met by the most heartwarming sight of Jake carefully caressing Flynn’s tiny feet.

“We’re gunna make zo many perfect bebiez, Amy Trivago. Zo many. Like zis one.”

“I’m sure of it, babe,” she gave into one last tired chuckle hoping agreeing would give him the peace he needed to fall asleep. And besides the fact his fingers continuously toyed with the tiny feet, Jake seemed fast asleep a few moments later leaving Amy to soak in the moment, fighting to stay awake just a few more minutes to enjoy how incredibly lucky she was.

There was indeed nothing better than feeling her two favorite boys’ heartbeats against her skin as she herself dove into a deep sleep.

#i'm pretty pleased with this one #both cute and fluffy #domestic peraltiago for days #peraltiago #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfic #jake and amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #baby peraltiago #fanfiction #b99 #Brooklyn Nine-Nine

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Three

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

After catching Remus up on what happened after dinner, Roman sat on his bed, staring at a blank paper, pen in hand. He sighed, typing on his phone. honestly re, i don’t know if i can do this. writing vows seems like an impossible task

Roman’s phone pinged almost immediately. you’ve got this down, roman, i know you do. have you tried being HONEST for once?

ew. no. not an option Roman said with certainty.

why not?

Roman turned red and was thankful Remus wasn’t in the room. He would instantly know that Roman was crushing. Instead, he took advantage of only being able to text. because saying that someone is “just okay” or “better than my parents” generally doesn’t come across as good vows

okay, okay, you got me there Remus allowed. what DO you like about him? what would you want to say to him were you actually in love with him?

thank you? i guess?

why?

because...he’s an escape. he’s sweet, and he cares about what i think. he makes sure that i matter

you better be writing those things down, ro, because that’s prime vows material Remus replied.

Roman scribbled it down dutifully and sighed. it still doesn’t feel like enough

it never does, from what i understand. you’ll figure it out. i know you will. you always were the smart one

still am, you idiot Roman replied with a smile and a winking emoji.

that’s the spirit! Remus took his time typing out his next text. do you want to string together some sentences for me? allow me to nitpick and beta-read your vows?

do i have much of a choice? you’ll nitpick them after the wedding given half the chance if i don’t let you do it now Roman sighed, rubbing his forehead. i’ll give it a shot, gimme a few

A quick confirmation from Remus and Roman was left staring at the paper on the bed, and the phone in his hands. With fingers trembling, he double-checked he and Remus weren’t in the group chat, and started to type.

Damien, I would be lying if I claimed to know exactly what to say to you. Despite all the words I have learned throughout my life, none of them seem to describe just how much I love you. You’re my escape from unpleasantries, with your ability to make me laugh. You ask my opinions, and my state of mind, and you listen attentively when I answer. You don’t care about all the things I hate about myself, dare I say you think they make me all the better, and I cannot fathom how that’s possible. Damien, you truly give me a chance to see myself in a new light, in YOUR light, and allow me to feel confident, if only for a moment. You never fail to make me smile, and see the silver lining in the clouds. I don’t believe in other halves, but I do believe in matching pairs, and honestly, Damien...you’re my match. It was hard to see at first—I know we got off to a rocky start—but I truly believe we’ll be in this together for the long haul. We’ll make it work. I love you, Damien, and I hope that we can be together ‘til death do us part, and beyond.

Roman got no response for a solid two minutes after he sent that experimental text. Just as Roman was about to poke Remus, he got a one-word response: wow

good wow? Roman asked, nibbling his lip.

roman, if you use that in the actual wedding, there won’t be a dry eye in the house. i guarantee it. and i’m sure fh will love it Remus replied. and when i say there won’t be a dry eye, i mean it. I’M tearing up at that. i wish someone would love ME that much. maybe more platonic-leaning, but...

Roman laughed. you’ll find someone, re. in fact, there’s a guy here named logan who is VERY interested in meeting you. damien and i agreed that the two of you would hit it off

he know I’m demiro? Remus asked.

not yet, that’s your story to tell. but he speaks out for the benefits of polyamory, and he doesn’t take crap from me OR damien. you’d def like him, even if you don’t LIKE him like him

Remus responded with a simple interesting and Roman rolled his eyes.

i told him not to tell you gorey facts so you don’t think he’s flirting, you’re safe

how very dare you! i’m in desperate need of gorey facts for a new fic i’m writing!

you’re terrible Roman scoffed. i’ll let him know, if you want me to

no, no, this could prove to be a fun challenge. see how long it takes for him to break >:) Remus’ evil laugh was almost audible.

don’t break him, he grades damien’s papers Roman paused, considered, and added, scratch that. damien might thank you for breaking him. that could get you in his good graces. do it

do i NEED to be in good graces with fh? Remus asked.

for my peace of mind, yes Roman replied.

but that’s no FUN! Remus shot back.

Roman snorted. tough. suck it up anyway

Remus’ grumbling was obvious by the way he didn’t reply. Roman laid back on his bed and sighed. He was tired, true, but he wasn’t sure he should be going to sleep quite this early, because he’d probably wake up in the middle of the night were that the case.

His mind kept on whirring with thoughts of the vows and the wedding, but when he opened his eyes next and checked the clock, six hours had gone by and it was past two in the morning. “Oh, damn it,” Roman muttered.

He checked his phone and saw that Remus hadn’t texted him in that time. Roman stood and changed into pyjamas, before padding outside his room. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed to move around. He needed to do something besides stare at the ceiling as he tried to fall back asleep. He knew that sooner or later he would have to return to bed, but right now, he felt awake enough that one little walk would hardly wipe him out.

The castle was different at night. The hallway lights were already out, the only light coming in through the windows from the stars and the moon. Roman could vaguely hear talking coming from somewhere, no doubt the guards doing their rounds.

He walked to the library, not knowing where else to go, and as he walked in, he saw a stray light on, a sleeping figure against the table, back rising and falling slowly, soft curls falling around the figure’s face, and Roman swallowed. Damien. Damien always had his hair slicked back somehow, Roman didn’t realize that it might be that curly when left alone. And it was decidedly adorable. Roman took a breath and moved forward. No matter what he thought, Damien would probably appreciate falling asleep in an actual bed rather than in the library. “Damien?” Roman asked in a hushed whisper. He took another step and reached out. “Damien.”

Damien bolted upright as Roman’s fingers brushed against his shoulder. He blinked owlishly up at Roman. “Oh. Hello my dear. What are you doing up?”

“I accidentally fell asleep too early,” Roman said. “How late did you stay up?”

Damien checked his phone. “I was only asleep for an hour,” he said, scrubbing his face. “I came in here to work on the vows, because I always focus better in the library. But the words...refused to fall into place. I texted your brother, and he said that he had seen your vows and that I would enjoy them, but...aside from him talking about little things about you I didn’t know before, I didn’t get much done.”

“Are you sure?” Roman asked, eyeing the papers that Damien had been sleeping on. “You have quite a bit written.”

“Nothing concrete that I really like,” Damien grumbled. He took a breath, and looked away. “I’m sorry, my dear. I wanted to at least give you a good wedding, if we had to be married to each other by force for the rest of our lives, but I can’t even get the vows right.”

“Hey, Damien,” Roman said softly, tilting Damien’s head over so they were looking at each other. “I don’t care about the vows. I don’t care about the music, or the dancing, or the guests, or anything else about the wedding. As long as I’m with you, this whole thing will be bearable. I promise. Just...be yourself. I promise, that’s the best thing you can be.”

“You...promise?” Damien asked, and his voice sounded so broken and small, Roman didn’t know how to respond for a minute.

“I promise, Damien,” Roman said with a smile. “We don’t have to be in love with each other to enjoy the wedding. We can have fun talking about our relatives, and dance to our hearts’ content, and you get to meet my brother. It’ll be fun, no matter what you do or don’t say for the vows, all right?”

“But...but you deserve more,” Damien said. “God, you deserve more than me, Roman. You deserve someone who knows what to say for a stupid wedding. You deserve someone who you truly love. I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not,” Roman whispered, smiling sadly. “I’m very happy I’m stuck with you.”

Damien blinked, and tears fell down his cheeks. “You’re too kind,” he breathed. “You get carted off, forced to be married to a man you’ve barely met, and you could have done anything else. You could have fought, you could have wanted nothing to do with me and told me as much, you could have run away in the middle of the night or you could have made plans to leave me at the altar. And yet...you treated me with kindness, and you still do. You’re so, so impossibly kind, and I love that about you and I can’t—” Damien took a breath. “I can’t even admit to myself how important you are to me.”

“Damien, it’s okay,” Roman said, sitting down on the table. “Something tells me you’re just very tired. If you sleep now you can probably think better in the morning, you can come up with the vows then.”

“I have—I have vows. Now. I wrote from my heart like Mother suggested and I came up with something. I just...I don’t want you to see, I don’t like them,” Damien rambled. “I don’t want you to see how desperate I am for positive attention, how much I can act like a lovesick puppy. I...” Damien swallowed. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? You’re just a hallucination. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I should...go to bed. Because I don’t remember walking there. I couldn’t have gone to bed, I must have actually fallen asleep in the library.”

“Damien, this isn’t a dream,” Roman said. “You’re tired, sure, but I’m awake and so are you.”

“Oh,” Damien said softly. He cleared his throat, sat up straight, and gathered up his papers. “Either way, I should go to bed and so should you, my dear.”

Roman blinked at the sudden change in Damien’s demeanor. “Damien,” Roman said, putting his hand over one of Damien’s. “What’s wrong?”

Damien stood sharply, retrieving his hand. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just tired,” he said with an unconvincing smile. “I just need to go to bed, I think.”

“Okay,” Roman said reluctantly. “But if you need to talk, you know where to find me, all right?”

“All right. Good night, my love,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s forehead and leaving the room in one swift moment.

Roman watched him go in shock. Had he just said...? He had. He had called Roman “my love” instead of his usual “my dear.” He must be sleep deprived, Roman thought. That was the only explanation that made sense. Damien had been convinced he was dreaming. There was no way that he actually meant that.

Just like there’s no way you’re in love with him? a niggling voice in the back of his head nagged at him. Face it, honey, you’re smitten, and he likes you too.

“That can’t be true,” Roman muttered to himself. “What could a guy like Damien possibly see in me?”

He hated to say that, because everyone around him would respond with something along the lines of, “Where do I begin?” but when he was all alone, he felt safe enough to release the question into the air.

But driving himself mad over this would get him nowhere. Without thinking, his legs moved forward through the library, back out into the hallway, where Damien’s figure was retreating. “Damien,” Roman called softly.

Damien paused and halfway turned, and Roman jogged up to him. A thousand questions were bubbling up in his throat, but he couldn’t get any of them out. Instead, he said, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Oh,” Damien said simply. “If you let me return the vows to my room we can find somewhere to sit and talk until you feel better?”

Roman smiled and nodded. “That would be nice,” he simply said.

“Follow me,” Damien said.

They walked together to Damien’s room, but Roman didn’t enter after Damien went in, sensing that he might not be that welcome in Damien’s space yet. Damien yawned as he exited the room and Roman felt a little bad. “If you want to sleep, you can. I’m sure I can find someone else to keep me company,” Roman said.

“Nonsense, my love, I can stay with you for at least another hour before I become too tired to function tomorrow morning,” Damien waved off.

“Why do you do that?” Roman asked as Damien started walking.

“Do what?” Damien asked.

“You called me ‘my love’ twice in the span of ten minutes,” Roman said.

Damien frowned. “I did?”

“You did,” Roman confirmed. “Usually you call me ‘my dear’ rather than ‘my love.’ I’m just a little confused.”

“Oh,” Damien said softly. “I just...I mean, I assumed we were close enough, I guess...my mind skipped to ‘my love’ because I’m tired and I consider us good friends.”

Roman’s heart sank without warning. “You call your friends ‘my love’?” he asked skeptically.

“I call my friends pet names, yes,” Damien said. “Admittedly, ‘my love’ is a new one, but I’m very tired. If you don’t like it, I can stop...”

“No!” Roman said, just a hair too quickly. “No, I like it. I was just confused.”

Damien nodded and sat down on a flight of steps, and Roman joined him. “I am sorry if I’ve caused you any discomfort while you were here,” Damien said. “I want only the best for you, Roman.That includes me being the best man I can be.”

Roman stroked Damien’s cheek. “You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said to Damien with a soft smile.

“You’re too kind, my dear,” Damien said, leaning into the touch just enough for Roman to feel it.

“I would argue that would be you, but okay,” Roman said with a small laugh.

Damien smiled, leaning against the wall. “God, I’m exhausted,” he breathed.

“Same,” Roman yawned. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Not just yet,” Damien said. “Right now, I just want to spend some time with you.”

“All right,” Roman said.

They lapsed into silence. Roman rested his head on Damien’s shoulder, enjoying the sensation of another warm body against his own. Damien’s breathing was steady, syncing up to Roman’s. Roman took a deep breath and sighed, and subtly nuzzled into Damien’s side. Damien didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. The sound of guards walking through the castle below them lulled Roman into a light sleep, eyes slipping closed without him telling them to do so.

When he woke up next, it was to the sound of snickering above him. “Oh, this is priceless,” a familiar voice murmured.

Roman stirred and blinked awake. “Mm. Virgil?”

“Good morning, Your Highness. Came up here for my morning rounds only to find out that you and Damien have been secretly cuddling for hours.”

Roman sat up, noticing he had somehow moved from Damien’s shoulder to his chest while he was asleep. Damien’s eyes fluttered beneath his eyelids and he groaned. “Wha’s happened?” he slurred.

“How long have you two been here?” Virgil asked.

“What time is it?” Roman asked.

“Four forty five, just about,” Virgil said.

“Then about two and a half to three hours,” Roman replied, standing up. “Oh, my back is gonna kill me.”

Damien swayed to his feet. “I’m going to bed for a few more hours,” he said definitively. “Good night, my love.”

“Night, Damien,” Roman said, allowing Damien to kiss his temple before he left.

Virgil was smirking at Roman, and Roman rolled his eyes. “No, you did not miss a love confession, Virgil. I just got upgraded to ‘close friend’ in Damien’s books, apparently.”

“Very close friend, if he kisses your temple and calls you his love,” Virgil snickered.

“Shut up and leave me alone if you’re just going to tease me,” Roman said. “Unless there’s some pressing matter or another, I’m going back to bed too.”

“Oh, yeah, go get your sleep,” Virgil said. “You’re gonna have to talk to the justice of the peace this morning.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Roman groaned, waving to Virgil as he walked down the hall.

Roman stumbled to his room and face planted into the bed, falling asleep quickly, thoughts of cuddling Damien swirling in his head and putting a sleepy smile on his face.

Tag List:  @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna–28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

[plush-rabbit]

Two Cups Of Ice Cream

89. “Oh my heart it breaks! It shall never be whole again!” “She/He/They break up with you every other month. Shouldn’t it be used to the disappointment by now?”

99. “Would it help if I stayed?”

Genre: SFW

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: First time writing for him! I think I got some of it down, but defs could use work! Also guess who can’t fucking read because it says fellow pro-hero! Read the notes please ≦(._.)≧

You stare outside at the parlor window, feeling melancholy wrap its heavy arms you. Your chin digs into the palm of your hand as you watch groups of people pass by the window, laughing and holding onto each other. On the rare occasion you see the lonely person walk by but that only makes the feeling in your stomach heavier.

The air inside the ice cream parlor is cool and it soothes you as you feel yourself begin to heat up. You’re thankful that it’s empty today, save for you, the employees and a group of friends who sit in the corner, giggling into the palms of their hands, taking in spoonsful of ice cream into their mouths, sharing it with each other. You tear your eyes away from them, the corners of your lips pulling down into a frown, only to be covered by the palm of your hand as you return your gaze outside the window. You don’t want to be the person who sneers at other people’s enjoyment just because you’re miserable. You may not be having the time of your life, but there’s no reason to despise others and their happiness.

You spare another glance at your phone, clicking it on and scrolling through the messages that Takami has sent you. His last one taunts you- a promise that he’ll be there on time. You grip the phone in your hand and turn it over on the table; the screen clangs loudly against the metal and you feel your cheeks flush when the parlor goes silent for a quick moment only to return to hushed chatter.

You want to be angry at him. He promised to meet you here today. He isn’t one to flake so why now? Why bother telling you that he was going to be here today if he wasn’t? But the reasonable part of you knew that it was irrational to get mad at him. He’s the number two hero, of course he’s going to get caught up in stuff. It’s not like past when you two could hang out on the weekends. He’s busy now.  But you’re still hurt. You still feel bad that he didn’t at least send you a quick message. You’re angry that you had to order two ice creams because he told you that he would make it and to order his when you got there. You hated that your friend wasn’t here.

You’re broken out of your thoughts when the server places two cups of ice cream on the table, he smiles respectfully and walks away, leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even get to tell him thank you. You look at the cups in front of you, and then back to the empty chair, and back to the cups. You should have known that he wouldn’t come.

An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. Now you have to eat two ice cream cups and while that normally isn’t a problem you now have to deal with the looks of pity the group of friends is giving you. You’ve been stood up and now you’re forced to eat ice cream as you hope that with every swallow, the lump in your throat is being pushed down. Ice cream has never felt so heavy to you before. It’s a wonder how you even got it down, every spoonful being heavier than the last and you try to eat at a normal pace, hoping that the eyes you feel on you are just in your imagination. What were once sweet flavors, are now bitter and slimy; it slides down your throat at a choking pace, and it takes all of your willpower to not retch and spit out the ice cream.

You finish the cold snack and feel worse. The phone buzzes against the table creating another unfortunate sound and you scramble to pick it up, keeping your eyes down. Your eyebrows knit together at the message on screen.

<Keigo>

-Be there soon!

You feel tired. The sick feeling in your stomach isn’t as heavy, it feels much lighter now. But everything else in your body feels heavy. You can feel your shoulders being weighed down by disappointment and eyelids droop. Your fingers drag across the screen as you tell him that you already ate and you’re heading home, but maybe next time you can meet up. And to convey that you aren’t bothered by his absence, you tell him to stay safe and to try the butter pecan flavor, and then you leave. You don’t wait for his reply as you walk towards the bus stop, your hands coming to wrap the cardigan closer to your body.

You know that you’re being childish. He’s late for reasons. You whine in the back of your throat and pull out your phone, typing away a quick message that you two can hang out at your place if he’s still free and press send, walking quicker to the bus stop as if you could run away from your actions.

The sun is starting to set and a part of you hopes that he’ll message you but another, much louder part doesn’t want him to, you don’t want to deal with the possible rejection that comes with him. You’ve had enough rejection for a year. You feel another buzz and you read the message, causing you to stop in your tracks and pull off to the side, confusing etching across your features. You mouth the words, “get ready,” and you shove the phone into your purse and stand straighter. You look up to the sky, a hand coming to your brows to provide shade and before you can turn your head, you’re lifted up into the air by the back of your shirt. You kick your legs out and let out a shriek, people stop in alarm to watch as you float into the sky, people staring and looking around in an attempt to wonder if you’re losing control of your quirk or if you’re being kidnapped. You cover your face behind your hands and tuck your legs in, a scream dies in the back of your throat and suddenly people are cheering underneath you. You don’t dare to look, you keep your eyes shut behind your eyes and you tuck your legs closer to your body when you feel arms pry themselves into the back of your knees and your back. They hold you securely and firm, and keep you close to their chest, vibrations rumbling caused by a laugh.

You can hear boots click against concrete and hands slide down your back and legs, letting your feet flutter above solid ground for a moment before planting them firmly and pushing your hair back. You open your eyes and reach over to the back of your shirt, feeling the feather for a quick second only to feel the feather brush against your fingertips before zooming off to go back to its place.

You two stare at each for a moment, he stands there with a sheepish look on his face, a hand coming to scratch at the back of his neck and his mouth parts open.

“You could have just messaged me to meet you somewhere you know. You didn’t have to kidnap me.” Your words are sharp and you wave your arms into the air only to bring them down and cross them across your chest.

He brings his hand down and curls it in midair. He stares blankly at you, the sun shining against him and reflecting off his visors. “You’re mad.” It’s not a question but a statement.

Your face falls slack for a second, only to sneer at him, your eyes narrowing into slits. “Of course I’m mad! You lifted me into the air without warning! Anyone would be mad about that!” Your hands are rising and you catch them in midair, twitching the fingers before bringing them to your sides to curl into fists. “At least a warning would have been nice! What you gave me was some vague shit!” Your breathing is starting to get ragged and you turn your head to the side, your eyebrows furrowing and mouth pulled into a line. “What do you want?”

The corner of his mouth twitches and the hand that was hanging in midair is brought up to scratch at the area above his visor. “You were mad at me before and you said we could hang out now if I wanted to.” He outstretched his arms in front of him. “So here I am.”

“I wasn’t - ”

“Yes you were. Your style of texting was different, ya know. A lot more formal than usual.” His eyebrows rise slightly upward and the corner of his mouth is pulling into a lazy grin.

“It wasn’t,” you lick your lips and look at him, your shoulders rising to meet you head as you tuck it in- a mock attempt to hide yourself, “formal.” The words don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You look up to meet his steady gaze. “I wasn’t mad.”

“Then?”

You purse your lips, “Where are we?” You change the subject and walk around the rooftop, going towards the edge and peering down below. Your breath catches in your throat and you stumble backwards, looking back at him with wide eyes. “Why are we so high up?”

“Because you’re never one to actually talk about your feelings- ”

“Oh like you are,” you snap, turning on your heel to face him. “You could’ve just met me at my place or-or something.”

“You’re mad because I stood you up.”

You take in a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Can I go home?”

“A building was on fire.” You hear his steps clipping across the concrete. “I couldn’t message you before-”

“I know.” Your voice doesn’t leave room for further explanation. You feel worse than you did before, the sinking feeling in your stomach heavier, making you feel sick. “I just,” you don’t know what to say, you can’t be selfish with him, he’s a hero. He has responsibilities other than being a shoulder to cry on, “I know.”

His hands trail up your arms, the warmth penetrating even through your clothes, and rest on your shoulders, gripping them firmly. “What happened this time?”

You suddenly feel embarrassed with your reason for asking him to meet up. Your face burns with embarrassment and when you try to meet his gaze you flinch away making a ‘tch’ sound. “I feel dirty,” your words are slightly above a whisper.

His grip on your shoulders tightens and through a tense jaw he asks, “About?”

“I feel like we only ever hang out when I have an issue.” You shrug your shoulders and with all your force you look up at his golden eyes, with shaky hands, your arms come up between his and your wrap your fingers around the legs of his visor and pull at them. His eyes flutter close and he pulls his head back, allowing the visors to be taken off.  You look down at them, your fingertips tracing the edges on the legs, careful to not touch the frames.

“I don’t mind. It’s humbling.” The hands on your shoulder fall to the side of them, holding them softly.

“Can I be dramatic for a quick sec?” You ask, a sad grin taking form.

“’Course.” His reply is simple and he’s quiet for a few moments, letting you gather your thoughts on how you want to present whatever information you’re about to- but he’s sure he already knows what it is.

“Oh my heart, it breaks!” You exaggerate your own voice, making it higher and foolish. “It shall never be whole again!” Your words are sarcastic at the end, biting at the last word, your teeth bared for a second before you dip your head down and let out an audible exhale.

“They break up with you every other month,” he states, the concern on his face not reaching his voice.  “Shouldn’t you be used to the disappointment by now?” He leans away from you, balancing on the soles of his shoes before coming down and stretching his arms above his head, his wings extending and ruffling in unison, each feather stretching outward.

“I know.” You lift your head and loll your head to the side. “I just thought this time would be different.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“This felt,” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts in order, “a lot more definite.”

“Oh.”

“I know you didn’t like them-”

“Hated them.”

“I know. But I still liked them and I,” you purse your lips and blow out a sigh, “just wasn’t ready for this to end.”

“They were the worst anyways. Had a terrible taste in movies and always acted so pretentious about everything.” He takes a small step towards you, inching closer and grabbing your biceps to pull you closer to him, your chests centimeters away from him. “Like remember when we had that movie night? And they wouldn’t stop talking about the themes in the movie. God, what a bastard.” He rolls his eyes and makes a fleeting gesture with his hand.

“Takami-kun,” you whine, throwing your head on his chest and pulling his visors to your chest, holding them gently in your hands.

“Thought I told you to call me Keigo.” You feel the rumble in chest when he talks, the vibrations running against you. “We’ve been close enough that you can call me by my first.” You hear the shameless teasing in his voice.

You pull away from him and pout. You raise a hand and give him a tap on the cheek. “Don’t be cheeky Keigo.” You turn around and step towards the ledge, waving him off when you notice in your peripherals, his crimson colored wings twitch towards you, the tips of his wings already extending towards you.

“I’m sorry that I was angry at you before.” You stretch your arms over your head, the yellow tinted visors clenched between one hand, and you stand on the tips of your toes, sighing when you feel the muscles stretch and pull against each other. “I just really wanted to eat some ice cream with you and complain for a bit.” You walk towards him, and put his visors back on him. Your fingertips drag down the sides of his face slowly, tracing along his jawline and gaze at his lips, only to pull away and return to his side.

“There’s always work to be done.” He stands next to you and outstretches one of his wings, coming to wrap around you, the feathers brushing against your shoulder, ruffling your cardigan and pulling it down slowly. “I really was on my way, you know.” He shuts his eyes and lets out a yawn, both his wings extending, only to curl in on you, the feathers pressing against you with gentle force and nudge you towards him.

You turn your gaze to him and scoff. Your lips twitch into a smile and turn around, dragging your finger through his feathers, having them twitch underneath your touch. “You owe me ice cream.” You reply comes out softer than you intended, and you continue to pet him, feeling the minuscule twitches that he gives. You grab a feather softly between your fingers and give a gentle pull, the feather falling into your grasp. With a tender graze on the barbs of his feathers, they quiver into your touch, following and staying perked to follow your graze. You bring the feather up to you lips, the feather trembling against the tip of your nose, tickling you softly. “Can you feel what I’m doing?”

“Just broke up and already flirting with me,” Keigo breathes out, letting out a soft laugh, controlling the individual feather to float back into place, leaving your grasp. “This has to be a record.”

“Last time was a moment of weakness,” you give him a side glance, lips coming into a playful grin. “On both of our parts.”

“Ouch,” he winces, pulling an arm to scratch at the top of his head. He turns towards you, the barrier his wings made, leaving you victim to the cool air.

“Oh, don’t act so hurt,” you wrap your arms around yourself and step towards him. “I’m not kidding about the ice cream by the way. I had to eat two cups by myself.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes a step back and extends a hand towards you. “Wanna go now?” His wings raise high into the air, lowering down slowly; they stay extended as he watches you.

“Stay at my place tonight?” You ask, already placing your palm into his gloved one.

“Would it help if I stayed?” He asks, his hand wrapping around you firmly, a gentle tug pulling you into him.

“It always helps when you stay.” You pause for a second, pulling away your hand to wrap your hair into a tight ponytail, tucking a few strands behind your ears. “You know that,” you step back into his grasp, your fingers twisting tightly into his jacket, only to turn around and press deep into his back.

He pulls away from you and slips his jacket off, wrapping it around you and zipping it up, adjusting at the collar, and pulling you closer. You stumble into his chest and glare at him, straightening your back and muttering a quick thanks. He nods in response, and you turn your back towards him, taking a small step backwards, flinching when you feel his arms wrap around your torso.

“Flavor?” You feel his strong wings flapping and lifting the both of you into the air. You can feel the gust his own wings create, and you shut your eyes, griping into his forearms and wrapping your legs behind his. You feel the deep rumble in his chest when he laughs. “Relax, I won’t let you fall, you know that.” He places a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, his hands gripping at you tighter.

You meekly nod, squinting your eyes open when you feel the wind become harsh against your skin. You let out a shaky breath and try to relax your shoulders.

You look down at the city below you. You aren’t that high into the air, just above a few of the taller buildings. Nearing the evening, the lights of the buildings are turned on and shining in the night. You let your legs fall off of his, leaving them dangling in the air. You kick your feet, feeling the wind resist against your movements. You hold tight onto his forearms, and nuzzle your nose further into his jacket, the fur of his jacket tickling your noise. You take in a deep breath and peek through white tufts, the lights looking like speckles behind fur.

“You never answered what flavor you wanted.” He says a bit loudly, pulling you tighter into him.

“Surprise me!” You yell out in response, swallowing down your nerves and outstretching your arms abruptly. You let out a nervous laugh, grasping at the air in front of you.

“I’ve taken you flying before.”

“Yeah! But I’m not used to it!” You turn your neck and look at him for a brief second. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this!” You give him a toothy grin, returning your gaze to the city below, and making grabbing motions to the lights that shine. “I’m terrified but I’m also having the time of my life!”

“Glad you got over your break up so fast.” He smiles wickedly down at you, taking a sharp turn upwards, squeezing you reassuringly when you squeak. His wings flap in midair, pulling his body straight and having you stand on the top of his boots.

You twist around him, shaking your head in an attempt to shake the hairs that have fallen onto your face back into place. “You always know how to put me into a good mood Keigo. Don’t act so cocky about it.” You smile up at him, bringing your arms back to his forearms, and placing your fingers above his naked wrists. You lean into him, looking down at the city.

“Hold on tight,” he whispers, his fingers pressing into your sides.

You don’t have time to think about what he said. You’re dipping towards the ground, his wings pulled back, and you biting into the fur, screams muffled and eyes shut tight, scared laughter mixing with the screams. And all too suddenly, his wings are expanding and flattening to level the both of you, the speed returning to a slower pace and your face stings with the cool air slapping into you.

“Keigo!” You laugh, both scared and exhilarated. “That was so mean of you!”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.

Wooden floorboards creak underneath the both of your weights and you place a tentative foot on the wooden floor before hopping away from him. You turn your attention to the window on your side and turn to him.

“This is not the convenience store, you know.” You slip off his jacket and take out the ponytail in your hair, brushing your hand through your hair, tugging away at any knots formed. “The flight does not let you off the hook.” You point a finger at him, and break out into a smile, pulling out your apartment key.

“Yeah, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He repeats and hurries you inside and kicks off his shoes inside and places his jacket on the coat stand.

“So impatient.” You click your tongue at him. “I’m the one with the broken heart and empty pocket, you know.” You turn to face him and your teasing gaze softens considerably so, you cup his face and run your fingers up to play with the tufts of his hair. “Just be patient for a sec. Take it slow Keigo.” You grab his hand place fleeting kisses across his wrist, looking up at him through the corner of his lips.

He hums closes his eyes, his leg coming up to kick the door behind him close, the free hand coming to lock the door.

#yo #so like if you want this written again #go ahead and ask for it #i can't read #im so sorry #school is out!! #I can write again! #Kiri is next #it's hard to write him being sweet #bnha imagine #hawks x you #hawks x reader #seriosuly #if you want it again #go ahead and ask #i didn't see the fellow hero part #ughh #i feel bad #anyways #lowkey tension towards the end #bnha hawks #well #expect soft kiri nxt couple of days #and then maybe some villians

[dollhousemuses-a]

A Christmas Miracle

this takes place in the ducktales universe me and @mallhit​ have been developing for the warners but it could also def be read from just a wakko’s wish adjacent verse. also it was supposed to be much sadder but I decided to give the kid a break. 

It was often that Yakko got a moment alone. 

Most days his energy was spent corralling two younger siblings, finished up with the strenuous task of attempting to get them into bed by a decent time. Most days, by the time he had gotten them asleep he was ready to collapse into bed right after them, and most days he didn’t try to stop himself. But that night he felt… restless. 

He made it to the area of their remade water tower that was sectioned off into their kitchen area. He moved the candle he had lit from the counter to the table and climbed up onto the counters. Despite being taller than both younger siblings combined, he still had to stretch onto his tippy toes to reach he small metal tine that sat pushed to the back of the shelf he was reaching for. 

He was quiet about making it back down to the floor, not wanting to wake his siblings, and took a seat at the table. 

He was already feeling discouraged by the weight of the tin, but it didn’t stop him from opening it and spilling the contents out on to the table. He counted it carefully once, twice and then a third time to make sure he wasn’t getting it wrong. At the confirmation of the sum of all the bills and change he let out a quiet sigh. His hands reached up to rub at his eyes, suddenly feeling that burst of tired he hadn’t just ten minutes prior. 

He leans his head down into his hands, his eyes squeezed shut just for a moment as he wracks his brain for something to do to make it work. He turns his head to the side and looks into the ‘family room,’ which wasn’t much more than a beat-up sofa and a shelf with the few books they had managed to scavenge. In the corner was a sparsely decorated fir tree and on the wall next to it hung a row of patched up stockings. 

He smiles briefly at the memory of bringing his siblings out to cut down a tree, the nicest tree they could find despite their lack of ornaments to decorate it. But the memory fades too quickly and instead he turns his head back to look at the money gathered in front of him. 

It wasn’t enough. No matter how many times he counted it, how many ways he dived it, it just wouldn’t be enough to give his siblings the Christmas they deserved.

The cupboards were empty, he knew this for a fact. There was a box of cereal with enough at the bottom for his siblings to have breakfast in the morning and then that was it. No matter what he wanted to do with the money he knew a large portion of it would be needed for food.

As for Christmas presents, well, that just seemed like a distant dream now. There was no way he’d be able to make the money swing far enough to properly feed his siblings and get them something nice to open that morning. Even if he went to the second hand store that was near the grocer he liked to go to he’d be scrounging up pennies just to pick something out for the both of them. 

Wakko’s sweater had been patched up more time than Yakko could count, and there was a sizable patch on Dot’s skirt that had once belonged to Yakko’s scarf. If he had just been able to get enough money to replace those maybe this Christmas would have been better. 

He let out one more sigh before he fathered the money back into the tin and left it sitting on the table. When his siblings woke up in the morning, he would set them up with breakfast and go get them some food, and maybe, by some miracle, he could throw together enough gifts to make it seem like Santa still cared about them.  

As he left the table he meant to go to bed, he’d have to wake up earlier than his siblings if he wanted to trick them into thinking he had eaten before they woke up, but his feet led him towards the door. 

He paused just long enough to throw his scarf around his neck before he stepped out into the cold December night. He was already rubbing his hands together, his breath coming out in small clouds in front of his face. 

He shut the door behind him and walked a little while away from the water tower, not far enough that it was out of sight, eventually coming to an old tyre and sitting down on it. He pulled his feet up, crossing his legs in front of him before his face turned up towards the sky. 

“What am I doing?” He asked allowed to the area around him before he let out another sigh. 

“Um.. hey.. uh, Santa..?” Yakko started speaking softly, his cheeks tinting a bit of a light pink as he spoke either from the cold or from what he was attempting to do or both and his eyes turned towards his hands folded in his lap. “I know that, um, traditionally speaking, you’re supposed to write a letter, but I figured Hey, if you know when we’re naughty and when we’re nice you’ve probably got some way to hear this, huh? And I can’t really afford the stamp..” He gave a small choked sounding laugh, before he looked back up. 

“Speakin’ of the naughty list, um, I- I know that I haven’t exactly been the best behaved, with the, uh, the lying and the stealing and all that, but I- I swear it’s been for a good reason! I just don’t know how else I’m supposed to- no, that’s not important... What’s important is that you need to stop, please. Please stop punishing them because I’ve been bad. It’s not fair. They haven’t done anything wrong; it’s just been me! I-” He can hear his own voice break as he speaks to thin air. Was this stupid? Did Santa even bother with kids on the naughty list when they had been on it as long as Yakko had? 

He curls in on himself a little more at the thought. It was still worth the try. “So, um, if you’re listening… please? Can you please do anything? They deserve something good. Anything good… And I can’t- I can’t do that for them. I’m not- I’m not enough, so please, just, I just need a little help. I promise, I’ll try to be good, I swear, just, just let them have something good this Christmas.”

Yakko stairs up at the stars, his eyes sad and a little foggy as he tried to hold back the tears. 

He didn’t know what he was waiting for, some sort of sign, some little hint that his begging did something, and some form of good luck was coming their way. But the longer he stared up at the sky the more he felt the hole that was starting to form in his last pair of gloves, and the more he felt it was entirely useless. 

He frowns, his eyes turning back to the ground as he reaches up to wipe at them.

“Yeah… I wouldn’t listen to me either..” 

Yakko got up from his seat on the old tyre, shoving his hands into his pockets as he started the trek back to the tower. He was about halfway back when he felt his toe collide with something and before he knew it his hands were hitting the ground, coming out just quick enough to keep his face from meeting the frozen ground. 

He let out a groan as he slowly raised himself on his knees, blinking his eyes open to see a scrap of fabric caught on a rock in front of him. It took him a moment to realize where it was from, looking at his hands to see an entire finger missing from his gloves. 

“Oh, come on.” He said out loud, turning to look at the affronting paint can with anger he was usually better at keeping deep down inside of him. Tears lined his eyes as his frustrations became too much and he grabbed the paint can, throwing it as far as he could. 

The loud crash that sounded because of his actions had him flattening back to the ground, his eyes wide as he waited for someone to show up to see what was making such a racket. But as he stared at the spot the can had landed with bated breath he watched as something fell out, landing on the ground with a small little thump.

His eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on it, waiting a minute and then another to make sure no one was coming over before he made his way across the lot. He kept low to the ground in case anyone showed up. 

His eyes recognized the object as he got closer, and once he was within reach of it, he picked up the small leather wallet with shaking hands. 

He didn’t think he was breathing as he opened up the pocket and pulled out a small bundle of twenty-dollar bills, his hands still shaking with the shock of his discovery. After a quick count he discovered that he was holding over a hundred dollars. 

He finally took a breath, and with his exhale came out a small, shaky laugh, though making the noise made him freeze again. He looked around himself like at any moment someone was going to jump out and accuse him of stealing. 

After a moment of nothing in the lot moving, he went back to picking through the wallet. There was a small amount of change in the bottom of it, and after a quick examination of the few credit cards in the card sleeves, he was excited to find that all of them were expired by a few years at the least. 

No one had been looking for this wallet for a long time. 

Yakko was quick to take the money and stuff it into his pockets before he took the wallet and stuffed it back into the paint can. He tucked it into a pile of dirt so that no one might come back across it before he made off in a sprint back towards the water tower. 

He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he got to the door of his home. He took one last look behind him, up towards the smile as he tried to keep his tears back. 

“Thank you.”

#;; ficlet #verse ;; yakko ;; woo-hoo! #yakko ;; verse ;; wakkos wish #[ im going to have like nine more fics for this universe #and the next will def have huey ]

[kinnsporsche]

we can raise a little family (maybe we'll be alright)

Whilst waiting for Michael at his trailer, Alex witnesses a crash and gets much more than he bargains for.

Alternatively: a post 1x13 fix-it-au.

word count: 2k

read on ao3

If there was one thing Alex hated most in the world, it was waiting. Waiting meant silence and silence meant more time for him to get lost in his head; and that was not a place he wanted to let himself get lost in.

But Michael had promised that they would talk today, and so he was content to wait for him. He’d spent years of his life turning away and running but now… now he was done. Now he would plant his feet firmly in the ground and say no more, no more running, this is who I am, and this is who I want.

At least, he would if the person he wanted showed up.

He’d waited an hour before he gave in to the restlessness. His good leg ached from disuse and he could feel the phantom aches twinging where his other leg used to be. He’d paced around the junkyard for a while, fingertips skimming across beat-up old cars and whatever else he could get a hold of to occupy his mind for a while.

He waited another hour before texting Isobel. She’d insisted he take her number when he first came back into town; she’d told him it was in case she needed help planning the parade she knew he didn’t want. Alex wonders if that’s true now.

The reply didn’t come until the third hour, and by then the weather had shifted to a light drizzle. He’d taken shelter inside Michael’s airstream, alternating between sitting on the edge of the bed and taking in the numerical sequences and equations that were littered across the walls. Right, Michael was still trying to leave the planet. He’d have to talk to him about that.

Noah’s gone, everything’s fine. We’ll be fine.

Alex had wanted to press. He’d wanted to push the subject until Isobel told him where Michael was and why he wasn’t answering his phone and why he was anywhere but here when here is exactly where he’d promised he would be.

Then he remembered everything she’d been through in the last few days and decided against it. He’d dropped the conversation with a quick thanks, take care.

His phone ended up half way across the trailer.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed after that. When he opened his eyes next, there was silence. The rain wasn’t pounding against the outside of the trailer and the pieces of scrap metal that Sanders had hung around the place weren’t banging against each other anymore.

Alex hissed when he tried to move, a twinge of pain shooting up his leg. Sleeping with his prosthetic was never a good idea; he’d definitely be paying for that for the rest of the night. When he finally managed to find his phone – thankfully nestled against what Alex knew was the bloody shirt Michael had peeled off in a hurry the night before – the clock told him he’d been asleep for just over two hours. He let out a litany of curses before he pushed the airstream door open, calling out Michael’s name. His truck wasn’t back though, and there were no fresh tire tracks in the gravel.

He checked his phone. Nothing.

He checked around for a note, hoping maybe he’d just missed him. Nothing.

He checked around for any sign that Michael Guerin hadn’t stood him up. Nothing.

God, he hoped he was wrong. Maybe Michael just needed space. Space from the world after everything that had happened to him the past few days, space from his home and his friends, space from him.

Still, those thoughts did nothing to stop his heart from shattering in his chest.

Alex turned and marched back to his car, shaking hands searching his jacket for the keys that he struggled to get into the lock. He cursed when he dropped them, hands braced against the roof of the car with his head nestled on them. He squeezed his eyes shut tight like he used to do when he was a child and it felt like the world wanted to go to war with him.

He counted to five.

Inhaled.

Exhaled.

And picked up his keys.

Something bright caught his attention in the reflection of his car window and for a second; for a bright, beautiful second; he let himself have hope. He let himself think it was Michael’s truck pulling up. That he’d just let the voice in his head run riot again and that Michael was actually here like he said he would be. If he could bottle a moment and live in it forever, he’d choose that one.

Logically, though, he knew the reflection was too high up on his window and the world wasn’t kind enough to let it be headlights.

Alex turned, an explanation for why he’d been hanging out here for the past half a dozen hours on the tip of his tongue but saw nobody. Instinctively, he glanced up.

And that was when he saw it.

The lights were faint; if he didn’t know any better he would assume that it was just someone flying a drone or setting off a dud firework. But this was Roswell, and he knew better. In the distance the light grew brighter and expanded somewhat before disappearing just beyond the horizon.

This time when Alex fumbled with his keys, his hands weren’t shaking.

-

It took Alex longer than he would care to admit to find the crash site – in his defence, he was a codebreaker, not a navigator. He could follow instructions easily enough but eyeballing a crash site in the middle of the desert wasn’t exactly an easy task.

The crash site was small, the debris from whatever it was that crashed hadn’t spread far and as far as he could see, it hadn’t shattered into very many pieces. There was maybe half a dozen glowing iridescent pieces scattered a few feet away from him surrounding something small and circular.

He briefly remembered Michael telling him about their pods, but this one seemed different. For starters, it was tiny; it was small enough that he could probably carry it around without any difficulty. And second, it was smoking. That didn’t exactly seem like something it should be doing.

A high-pitched sound from a few paces away caught his attention and he whipped his head in that direction, heartbeat picking up in his chest when he caught movement underneath some sort of tarp. Alex crossed over to it and gripped one of the corners. He took a breath, counted to five again, and whipped it off.

Shock consumed him, and for a good few seconds he stood motionless as he took in the scene before him.

On the floor in front of him under the New Mexico sky, was a baby. A happy, gurgling baby whose hands were curled into fists and outstretched towards him. A happy, gurgling, alien baby that had just crashed from the sky. A happy, gurgling, alien baby that had only been covered by the tarp in the middle of the desert.

“Oh my god.” Alex shrugged his leather jacket off once he’d regained control of his motor functions and gently scooped the babbling baby up in his arms. He draped the jacket around her, hand rubbing small circles over her back when she nestled against his shoulder and started cooing quietly. He could already feel a small patch of drool seeping through his shirt and onto his shoulder.

“What happened here, hm?” Alex asked, more to himself than to the bumbling baby in his arms. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been another crash since 1947. So why now? And why the hell send down a baby? Michael and the others were kids when they came out of their pods, so why was this different?

With a sigh, Alex walked over to his car and swung open the passenger door. He made sure the baby was warm in his jacket and moved to set her down gently on the seat. He almost dropped her when she let out the most blood curdling cry he’d ever heard – a cry that stopped as soon as she was leaning back against his shoulder.

“Okay, okay! Note to self, don’t put the baby down.”

Alex glanced around at the debris scattered around and groaned; this was going to be much harder with only one hand free. He stored it all away in the trunk of his car, doing his best to hide the broken iridescent alien pod that he was now hiding in his car. When he was sure he had it all, he closed the trunk with a gentle thud, so he didn’t irritate the baby, and walked around the side of his car.

A twinge of pain shot up his leg when he sat down behind the wheel, and the hand that wasn’t holding onto the baby shot down to grip just above the point where his prosthetic met his leg. He manoeuvred her so that she was sitting on his lap instead of against his shoulder and tried desperately to work out the cramp that was sending spasms of phantom pain down his leg.

The baby let out an irritated gurgle, but Alex had his eyes squeezed shut tight as he tried to remember how to breathe – his physical therapist had taught him some breathing exercises that were supposed to get him through the pain, but the pain seemed to be the only thing he could focus on.

And then it stopped.

Alex’s eyes flew open. It took a few moments to adjust to something other than the darkness that had been blocking out his vision moments ago, but when he finally did he saw a small hand resting on his arm and a pair of wide brown eyes looking up at him. The baby cooed when their gazes met, moving her hand away to reveal a glowing, iridescent handprint on his skin.

“Holy shit-” Alex’s eyes were wide as he stared down at the mark. The baby giggled in response and slapped a small hand over her mouth.

“Language, right. Don’t swear around tiny alien babies. Got it.” He stared at the handprint on his arm for a few more seconds, watching the way the colours shifted as he turned his arm in the light.

“I think we need to have a conversation about leaving handprints on strangers, young lady,” Alex hummed, unable to stop himself from beaming at the gentle gurgle he got in response. The baby nuzzled back up against him and closed her eyes, mouth opening in a small yawn that he should not have found adorable in the slightest.

“No, listen you can’t sleep here I have to drive us home-.”

Alex cut himself off, eyebrows furrowing for a moment. Us? Home?

“I mean I have to drive us back to my place whilst I figure out what to do, and it’s definitely illegal for you to be sleeping in my lap.” The baby didn’t move though, just curled a small hand in his shirt and closed her eyes. He could have sworn the smile on her face held a hint of smugness.

The internal debate on whether or not to move her lasted all of three seconds before he was reminded of the wail she let out earlier and he decided to let her stay.

“If a cop tries to pull us over and I have to outrun them, you’re in big trouble missy.”

Alex started up the car and put it into drive, one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing small circles into the babies back over his leather jacket. If he drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way home, nobody had to know besides him and the precious cargo that he was carrying in his lap.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex au #rnm fic #alex manes #roswell new mexico fic #roswell fic #** #rnm* #writing* #anyway this is an accidental baby acquisition fic because that trope owns my heart