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buckysgrace · 28 days

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Fifty Two

Dancing in the Dark Masterlist

“So,” Cindy leaned against the counter to stall Kim’s movements, “You and Billy then?” She raised her eyebrows, her eyes narrowing as Kim nearly ran into her with an opened bag of icing. She stalled, taken aback.

“Huh?” She blinked as she rapidly glanced around, but Billy was too busy scrubbing one of the dishes to pay much attention to what she was doing. She huffed, blowing the loose hair from her face. She had a hard time keeping her hairnet on anymore.

“He told me you two are together.” Cindy replied as she pressed her glossed lips together. Kim felt her eyes widen, her cheeks burning as she stammered for an answer. She was taken aback, unsure of how to answer as Cindy’s calculating eyes dug into her.

“Oh,” She shot a look over her shoulder, her face still burning as she desperately wished Billy would’ve given her some sort of warning, “Yes.” She replied, knowing that there was no reason to hide their relationship from someone like Cindy. It wasn’t any of her business in the first place.

“That’s kind of fucked up, you know that right?” Cindy wrinkled her features together in disgust, taking a step back as if she might catch something from Kim. Kim took a deep breath before she went on her way, deciding that Cindy’s comments weren’t worth her time at all.

She walked back to where she was piping out red roses, feeling quite proud of how they had turned out. She’d felt a lot better once her infection had cleared up, especially in her mouth. It no longer hurt her to eat and snack on sweets. That was the important part to her.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Kim sighed deeply once she noticed that Cindy had followed her back to her station. She turned towards her, having no desire to discuss this further. Cindy merely shrugged.

“I’m just trying to figure out why he’d want to be with you.” Cindy replied as she dragged her eyes over Kim’s body, still looking as disgusted as earlier. Kim didn’t feel any shame this time, didn’t feel any hurt.

“He says he really likes my mouth,” Kim spit out, embarrassed at her own words, “I don’t know. We’re happy together though.” She mumbled as she began to work on the flower again. She briefly wondered if she’d be able to learn how to crochet flowers into her yarn work.

“For now.” Cindy said smugly, looking a little triumphant as she leaned against the counter. Kim watched as Cindy winced, looking irritated as she began to rub the red frosting from her arm. Kim felt her lips forming into a smile, watching as it only smeared deeper.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Kim replied a second later, “I’m happy with him, so your comments really don’t bother me.” She said blissfully, feeling a little proud for not caring what someone thought. She glanced towards Billy, wondering if he would be proud of her when he found out.

“It’s weird,” Cindy kept talking as she began to use a paper towel to rub it off of her arm, “I mean, what do your parents say?” She asked, blinking rapidly like she was trying to process it all. Kim looked at her, unsure of why she was asking so many questions.

“I don’t care what they say,” Kim said at last, fully knowing that Cindy didn’t even know the full story, “I love him.” She stated, feeling like that was more than enough to end the conversation. Cindy furrowed her eyebrows together.

“That’s kinda fucked up,” Cindy replied, “But you are an odd thing. Congrats I guess.” Kim stopped for a moment, trying to process being called odd. She blinked a second later.

“You’re congratulating me?” She asked hesitantly, sure that she had heard Cindy wrong. Kim took a step back, a little intimidated by the way Cindy turned towards her again.

“Should I not?” Cindy raised an eyebrow, “Billy is a total catch.” She said with a laugh, stating the truth before she turned to head back to the station that she called her own. Kim stalled, feeling a bit of whiplash from how the conversation had gone.

“What was that about?” Billy appeared after, one eyebrow raised as he rested a hand against Kim’s waist. She made a face towards him, feeling like it wasn’t a coincidence that he appeared once Cindy had left.

“She called me an odd thing,” Kim said softly as she pressed her fingertips together, “And then congratulated me for getting with you.” She replied, feeling like she was growing even more confused as she thought of the conversation once again.

“She’s fucking weird,” Billy mumbled as he shook his head, “Do you want to get lunch together?” He asked, his smile soft and sweet as he looked at her. She liked how he’d tucked his hair up into the net. It was messy, a bit disheveled but he still looked handsome.

“Can we?” She looked at him confused, thinking about how they hadn’t done that before. She wasn’t even sure if they were allowed to leave at the same time. She thought that it would be nice to get lunch together, if they were allowed to do so.

“If we take our lunches together we can,” He laughed as he looked at her, “Where do you want to go?” He reached down to link their fingers together, making a spark of electricity travel up her arm. She squeezed their fingers together, no longer feeling shy about someone seeing them.

“You pick,” She said softly, “You pick out good places.” She told him truthfully, feeling like he had a better relationship with food than she did. She was glad he was making her try new things, even if she didn’t like them quite as well.

“Yeah?” He smiled as he began to pull his apron free from his waist, “You ready then?” He asked her, watching the way she began to scramble to clean her area up. She smiled sheepishly, not meaning to leave it in such a mess.

“We can go right now?” She questioned him, watching the way he nodded his head to answer, “Okay then.” She giggled in excitement, feeling a little bit better as she began to untie her apron. It was covered in different frosting colors today from how badly her hands had been shaking.

Kim followed him further into the back of the restaurant. He gave Rosemary a quick goodbye, stating that they would be back in thirty minutes before he tugged the door open for Kim. She stepped out, pulling her sweater a little tighter to her as a cool breeze washed over them.

“Here,” He grinned as he pulled her hair net off of her head, “There you go.” He smiled at the way her hair fell about, all messy and static. He gently toyed with it for a moment, getting it to rest neatly on top of her head again.

“I forgot about it,” She laughed softly, “Oops.” She smiled towards him, watching the way his blue eyes glimmered like calm waves during the summer. His skin was warm and golden, giving her all the heat she needed as she nestled her way against his side.

“You looked cute,” He reasoned with a smile, “I figured you didn’t mean to leave it on.” He added softly as he guided her across the street. She hadn’t spent much time exploring what was nearby, but was in no way surprised that he was aware of it all.

They took a left, then walked another street over before taking a right. She looked around the whole time, ensuring that he had some idea of where they were going. She didn’t want to end up lost. That would be embarrassing.

“Ramen?” She looked towards him after reading the sign outside of the door, “That’s what you wanted?” She asked curiously, only able to think of the cheap packets that Susan would occasionally get.

“It’s good,” He grinned as he held onto her waist, “You like noodles.” He said as he nudged his hip against hers. She flushed a little bit, her cheek burning as he reached over to kiss the side of her head. It was quick and small, but still made her heart hammer roughly inside of her chest.

“I didn’t say it was bad,” She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked over the menu outside of the restaurant, “What do you like?” She asked him, admiring the way the sun melted off against his back. It gave the illusion that he was glowing.

“I’ve never eaten here before,” He admitted, “I thought we could try it together.” He squeezed at her hip, making a smile burst free on her lips as she nodded her head in agreement. She liked that idea.

It wasn’t busy inside, thankfully. They were able to get a table near a window, allowing Kim to occasionally watch the people outside as they waited for their drinks to come back. She’d decided on a Coke, while Billy decided on a sweet tea.

“I think I want the chicken one,” She pointed out as she looked at it, “It sounds good.” She said as she looked it over. She’d get it without mushrooms, however. She still didn't care for them.

“It does,” Billy agreed, “I might get the pork with the vegetables.” He pointed out, making her look down at the menu to read all of the different things that were included in it. She reached for her Coke as the waitress brought it over, then looked towards Billy as he repeated their order back.

“Gross,” Kim said after as she wrinkled her nose up playfully, “I figured you’d get that.” She giggled a second later, quite proud of the way she’d read him. He sent her an amused look as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms comfortably.

“Mhm,” He grinned as he turned his attention towards her, “Sounds like you and Cindy are becoming close.” He teased as he flickered his eyes up to meet her eyes. She raised her eyebrows high on her forehead, knowing that was far from the truth. Cindy was still not a fan and neither was Kim.

“Oh please,” Kim laughed, “She basically said you’d end up leaving me.” She shook her head, still thinking that Cindy’s response was funny. She wondered if Cindy would ever get over Billy, or if this was just something she’d have to deal with for a long time.

“Not true,” Billy replied quickly, “And not for her. Her breath stinks.” He pointed out, making Kim’s eyes widen at his claim. She tugged on her hair, sending a kind smile to the waitress as she dropped off their food. She felt her cheeks burning a little bit, sure that the other girl had overheard his part of the conversation.

“Billy,” Kim giggled softly, “I can’t believe you said that.” She replied as she moved her bowl around, watching the way the steam rolled off of the brown broth. The chicken was sliced and positioned towards the top of the bowl, with a hard boiled egg resting on the other side.

“Why not?” He chuckled, “It’s true.” She stabbed at her egg cautiously, giving him a knowing grin before she bit into it. She closed her eyes for a moment, sure that it was not right for an egg to taste that good.

“Can I have your egg?” She asked him seriously, no longer caring about what Cindy thought. She just wanted to focus on eating, to focus on being around Billy. It felt like they’d finally been able to come over the hill they’d been struggling up.

“Sure,” He said, “But you’re scrubbing your teeth before I kiss you again.” He wrinkled his nose as he watched her, clearly disgusted with the way she enjoyed it.

It took her a few attempts but finally she was able to stab her fork into his egg and bring it over to her bowl. He wrinkled his features as he watched her bring it up to her lips, the broth from the bowl drizzling down the side of the white egg as she slowly bit into it.

“It’s good,” She told him seriously as she chewed it, “Really good.” She hid back a laugh, unable to hide her amusement at the distasteful look on his features. He shook his head as he scooped up a roll of noodles away from where his egg had been.

“Disgusting.” He told her gruffly, making a face as he blew on the scalding noodles. He was gentle as he brought it up to his mouth, taking a large bite as she continued to nibble on the eggs.

“Have you tried them recently?” She asked him seriously, wondering if he just needed to give them another chance. He knitted his eyebrows together as he brushed his thumb against the corner of his mouth to wipe away some of the excess juice.

“No thanks.” He responded as he shook his head. She smiled as she waved it in front of him, enjoying the way his features crinkled up as she continued to tease him.

“I mean,” She drew out slowly, “You always tease me about not eating things, yet here I am, eating something that you won’t touch.” She smirked, watching the way his features knitted up in competition.

“Is that how you want to play this?” He laughed as he reached towards her fork, “Fine.” He said, moving his fingers like he was going to grab a hold of her fork.

“No,” She protested as she shoved the rest of the egg into her mouth, “This is mine.” Her words came out muffled as she spoke and she winced at how scolding the broth was as she chewed down the egg. She feared the inside of her mouth may be burnt after.

“You’re a mess,” He laughed as he shook his head, “I think we should do something for spring break. Just you and I.” He said a second later, glancing back down at his bowl as he swirled some more noodles onto his fork.

“Oh?” She smiled brightly as she listened to him, “What do you have planned?” She asked curiously, following his same movements with her own fork. She blew on it for a second, then quickly took a bite.

“I’m struggling with that part,” He laughed softly, “A lot of parties happen during that time.” He brought up slowly, looking a little frustrated at the thought. She felt her shoulders sag a little bit, sure that he could be doing something fun with Tommy if it wasn’t for her issue with alcohol.

“Oh,” She paused for a moment, “I’m sorry.” She told him truthfully, sure that he would’ve had something really fun planned. He tilted his head, watching her curiously for a moment before he spoke up again.

“It’s not your fault,” Billy shook his head, “I don’t want to be the one to do anything stupid.” He chuckled a second later, smiling as he brushed his fingertips against hers. She wiggled her fingers a little closer to him, enjoying the way their fingers fit together.

“You haven’t,” She smiled as she looked at him, “How much longer do they have to drug test you?” She asked him softly, hoping that he was almost out of the clear. It also made her a little wary. She didn’t want Billy to fall into another stump again. She didn’t want that for either of them.

“A few more months,” Billy sighed softly, “I guess it’s not that bad.” He shrugged his shoulders as he bit down on a mushroom. She thought about it for a moment, glad that he was at least feeling a little better over the whole ordeal.

“You’re doing well,” Kim told him softly, “I’m really proud of you.” She smiled at him, watching the way his curls brushed against his shoulders as a breeze from the open door slid inside the room.

“I’m proud of you too,” He said as he pressed their fingertips together, “We can figure something else out to do then.” He tapped his fingertips against her open palm for a moment, making her think for a while.

“Even going to the beach is fun,” She paused for a moment, “Maybe we can go horseback riding?” She suggested in excitement, thinking that it might be fun to see some farm animals again. She’d really like to pet some more cows, if at all possible.

“You really want to learn?” Billy looked at her in amusement, his eyebrows knitting together as she sent him a sheepish smile. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with wanting to learn. Horses were cute.

“I have the greatest teacher across from me.” She teased him, giggling at the way he rolled his eyes in disagreement. She watched as he reached across the table and stole a piece of chicken from her bowl.

“Right,” He snickered, “What are you going to do about prom?” He questioned her, his dark eyebrows raised in confusion. She paused, realizing she hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. She supposed she wouldn’t get one now that she wasn’t in school, but that was okay. She had him and that was all that mattered.

“I guess I won’t get one,” She shrugged her shoulders softly, “I’ve danced with you. That’s good enough.” She teased him as she tilted her head, watching the way his eyes turned inquisitive. She really didn’t mind missing out. It was just a dance.

“You’ll get to go to prom,” He said as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “Have you looked at dresses?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. She felt her cheeks flush as she remembered he’d peeked into her wedding journal. She hoped he didn’t think it was too girlish.

“No,” She told him with a laugh, “It’s months away. I think I would’ve wanted something pink.” She said truthfully, deep in thought as she brushed her thumb down against her bottom lip. She liked the dresses with the big shoulders, but she also liked when they looked a little older.

“Of course,” He smiled, “No surprises there. We’re going to go to prom together.” He stated, nodding his head sternly so she couldn’t come up with an excuse. She raised her eyebrows.

“What?” She giggled, “Is that how you’re asking me?” She smiled as she watched the way his cheeks flushed for a moment, like he just now realized how it sounded.

“That’s the best you get,” He grinned as he looked at her, making her feel all warm and tingly on the inside, “I bet mom would like to go dress shopping with you.” He pointed out. She nodded her head softly as she brushed her thumb throughout her bowl, thinking softly to herself.

“That would be fun,” Kim responded shyly, “I wish mom could be here. And Max.” She said a second later, feeling like it might be nice to have their opinions. She felt like if this was to be her only prom dress, she at least had to put some effort into it.

“Max would hate looking for prom dresses.” Billy laughed in response, looking at Kim incredulous for a moment. She thought about it, knowing that he was very right.

“You’re right,” Kim laughed, “But I like to think that she’d do it for me.”

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

New Years rolled around a few days after, leaving Kim more and more excited as Rosemary gathered more ingredients for their little party she was setting up. Kim couldn’t even remember celebrating much for New Years. She was sure that she’d never been able to stay up that late before recently anyways.

“Sparkling cider and grapes,” Rosemary proclaimed as she passed them both a cup full of liquid and grapes, “So good.” She said excitedly, munching on her own grapes once Kim took her set. She looking down at the green grapes, glad that she had gone with those.

“Mhm,” Billy mumbled, “Much better than champagne.” He said sarcastically as he brought his cup up to his lips. She shot him a look before she walked around the couch again, shaking her head. Kim still felt bad sometimes, knowing that Billy really missed having his beers whenever he wanted.

“It is good,” Kim said softly as she sipped on it, “I like it.” She snacked on a few more to keep her hands from shaking. She hated how it came and went. She had been fine earlier, but it was like her body reacted whenever she thought of alcohol. She was sure it had to be in her mind.

“It’s full of sugar,” Billy replied a second later, “So not really surprising.” He teased her, nudging her shoulder softly. Pearl jumped up suddenly, her eyes wide and tail fluffy as she stared at the two of them for a second before she darted off the cushions and raced down the hallway. Russell shrieked a second later, likely getting attacked after leaving the bathroom once again.

“You’re funny,” She laughed, shaking her head as she watched Pearl race back towards the kitchen as Russell came tumbling after her, “You don’t like it?” She asked him curiously as she took another drink, sure that she’d be able to finish his if he didn’t want it.

“It’s alright,” He wrinkled his nose, looking like he was going to suggest something before he stopped himself, “Just not my favorite. That’s it.” He shrugged his shoulders, busying himself from saying anything else as he shoved a few grapes in his mouth.

“What’s your favorite New Year's memory?” She asked him instead, crossing one leg over the other as she turned to face him. She’d felt fairly lucky with her hair this evening. She’d gotten it curled and poofy in the right manner this time. She had a bit of silver sparkle on her eyes and the red lipstick that Billy had gotten her for her birthday.

She really didn’t have any fancy dresses, or at least not any that she’d wear around Rosemary or Sam. She thought about her pink one, thinking that it had been some time since she’d put it on. She decided against it, not wanting Sam to get offended over what she was wearing.

She decided on a jean skirt instead and a pair of black tights with little sparkles on them. Her sweater was white with blue snowflakes stitched through it. She thought that it looked cute enough, at least for staying in.

“Uh,” Billy paused for a moment, “I don’t really remember. I don’t think I have one.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together as he thought, moving his hand behind the couch for a moment. She watched him curiously, enjoying how his eyes twinkled.

“Really?” She asked him softly, although she wasn’t that surprised. Holidays around Neil had always been tough. He seemed to try to0 hard, but Kim realized now it was more to punish Billy than anything. He gave special treatment to her and Max. it wasn’t fair.

“I think I was too little if we did celebrate it,” Billy paused as he took another drink from his cup, “I spent too much of it drunk at parties to really remember.” He said finally as he brushed his fingers through his hair. He licked his lips a second later, then shook his head before he took another drink from his sparkling cider. Sometimes she wondered if he was pretending to be drinking something else as well.

“Oh,” Kim nodded her head softly, “I don’t think I remember one either.” She said at last. Susan usually worked as she would get paid double and Sam always seemed to be gone. Neil hadn’t ever let them stay up that late either. She supposed they were in the same boat there.

“I guess this will be good for us,” Billy grinned as he leaned over to kiss her cheek, “We can make our own memories.” He added softly, pausing for just a moment to brush his nose against hers. She giggled at the sensation.

“Cute,” She smiled as she looked at him, “I’d really like that.” She replied as she wiggled her way a little closer to him, enjoying the warmth from his body. She wondered how he could stay so hot all the time. Even now, her fingertips felt cold to the touch.

They were quiet for a moment as she turned her attention back to whatever was playing on the TV. Russell was rambling to Sam and Rosemary in the kitchen about his new love of snowboarding. He’d never actually been snowboarding before, but he was convinced that he was a born natural. Kim believed in him all the same.

“Kim,” He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. She turned towards him, tilting her head as she noticed the way his expression tightened, “The drugs that I took before, I found them in your moms stuff.” He replied, making her eyes widen at his revelation. She thought about it for a moment, trying to make sense of everything.

“What?” She asked him, her throat a little dry as she knitted her eyebrows together. Susan had a drinking problem, but she didn’t do drugs. She paused, sure that he must’ve mistaken the drugs. They had to be Eddie’s.

“In Susan’s bag,” He paused as he brushed his fingers across the couch cushion, “Or Wayne’s. I don’t know. It was in their stuff though.” He mumbled underneath his breath, drawing his eyes up slowly as he met her eyes. She stared at him for a moment as she felt her heart beating roughly inside of her chest at his words.

“Why wouldn’t you say something before?” She asked him seriously, feeling a little panicked as she thought about Max being there alone with the other three. She didn’t want to think the worst of them, but she also feared what Max might be getting exposed to.

“I didn’t want to make your relationship more tense than it already is.” Billy replied softly as he flickered his eyes over her features. She breathed in deeply, bringing her finger up to chew on it for a moment as she thought about the situation Max might be in. Max hadn’t mentioned anything bad in any of their phone calls, but she also wasn’t one to just admit to that.

“She’s there with Max,” Kim said worriedly, “I wouldn’t have let her go if I knew that.” She said quickly, beginning to feel guilty all over again. He reached over and gripped her knee, giving her a soft and reassuring squeeze.

“I don’t know if she was taking it,” He said lightly, pausing before he continued his thought, “Maybe she was hoping someone would relapse.” He told her, his blue eyes soft and calm as she held onto his gaze. She was confused.

“She didn’t know about what happened to you.” She said softly, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion. There was no way that Susan would’ve known about any of Billy’s drug issues.

“I don’t think it had anything to do with me.” Billy said at last, leaving Kim searching for an answer for a moment. She paused as she glanced over her shoulder, looking at the way Sam was explaining something to Russell. She felt her lips part, her heart ache just a little bit. She didn’t want to believe that Susan could do such a thing, but she also knew how her mom was. But to her knowledge, Sam had never touched drugs before. Just alcohol.

“Oh,” Kim breathed out softly, “I see. You don’t think she was taking it then?” She asked worriedly as she toyed with her fingers, a little stressed about the whole ordeal. She didn’t know what to think now. Her parent’s relationship was such a mess.

“I don’t know,” Billy told her truthfully, “I just wanted to let you know.” He mused softly, looking concerned as he brushed his fingers against the side of her hair. She wished she could believe him, but she felt like she already had her answer.

“Do you think she did that to my dad before?” She whispered underneath his breath, fearful for what his answer would be. She felt guilty even asking it, like she was assuming the worst of her mother.

“No,” He said after a second thought, “I don’t think she would’ve done that when you guys were struggling. I don’t know if she really did this on purpose.” He nodded his head gently, pulling his lips into the warmest smile as she felt herself exhaling in response. He made her feel better, even when she felt like her emotions were being torn about.

“Right,” Kim nodded her head softly, “I guess that makes sense. What do I do about it?” She asked him seriously, though she figured he’d be just as lost as she was. There was no easy way to go about this situation. Speaking to Susan anymore was almost too draining anyways. It was still tense.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it,” He mumbled as he linked their fingers together, “I just thought you deserved to know.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, smiling before he peppered kisses across her knuckles.

She smiled at him, trying to ignore the way her heart was slowly unclenching inside of her chest. She took in a shaky breath, trying to remind herself that it could be a problem for later. For tomorrow. She just wanted to be happy with him right now. She’d inquire a little more from Max; just to ensure that everything really was fine.

“Try this,” Rosemary grinned as she brought over two plates, “A different recipe.” She said as she held out a piece of dessert. Kim inspected it, thinking that it looked to be a piece of cake with powdered sugar on top.

“What is it?” Billy asked curiously as he poked his fork into it, already preparing to take a bite before he fully knew what it was. Kim held it up to her nose, taking a gentle sniff to ensure that it really was powdered sugar.

“Vasilopita,” Rosemary said in excitement as she nudged Sam, “Tell them about it.” She said joyfully as she held onto his arm. She bounced a little, tugging onto him and nearly toppling his glasses off of his face.

“You bake a coin in it,�� Sam replied softly as he held onto Rosemary, “Whomever finds it is said to have good luck for the next year. Old tradition.” He shrugged his shoulders casually, but Kim looked at him curiously. She’d never heard that before.

“That’s neat,” Kim said as she poked her fork through her dessert, “Why a gold coin?” She asked suddenly, a little intrigued on why there would be money baked into a dessert.

“From St. Basil the Great,” Sam said softly as he bit into his dessert, “He redistributed his wealth by baking gold coins into bread, then gave them to the residents of the city.” He explained, grinning at the way Russell dramatically fell back onto the couch as if he was bored. He wiggled about, his long hair dangling onto the floor. Kim watched from the corner of her eye as Pearl’s butt went into the air and she stared at the loose strands.

“Why didn’t he just give them the money?” Billy questioned as he scrunched his nose up, “Why bake it into bread?” He looked baffled, like it was a silly thing to do. Kim pursed her lips together before she took a bite, realizing that it tasted more like bread than cake. Still, it was good. Sweet.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied as he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess he just thought he was doing a good deed.” He said as he continued to eat, sending Rosemary a sly wink as she continued to stare at him. Russell gagged.

Pearl pounced then, throwing her little paws up into the air before she attached Russell’s hair. He yelped, trying to pull away as she roped her claws through his thick strands. She rolled onto her side, her tail fluffed as she repeatedly kicked her back feet into the side of Russell’s head.

“Hey,” Kim laughed as she picked her up, grinning at the way Pearl went limp in her arms, “That wasn’t very nice.” She smiled as she squished her face against Pearl’s. Russell whined as he sat up, rubbing the side of his head.

“She’s a demon,” He said quickly, watching Pearl in disdain, “She bullies me.” He said seriously. Kim chewed on her bottom lip, supposing it was true in some way. She also thought it was partially Russell’s fault for the way he’d play with Pearl in a similar manner. They enjoyed to roughhouse.

“Fuck,” Billy grumbled as he pulled a quarter from his mouth, “You really had to bake money into it?” He bought his spare hand up to his jaw, rolling it around like he was afraid he’d broken a tooth. Kim made a sympathetic face, sure that it had hurt his tooth.

“That’s the tradition!” Rosemary grinned, “Great! You’re going to have good luck!” She clapped her hands together, sending him a cheery smile as Billy grumbled in response.

“Go, Billy!” Kim grinned as she plopped back down next to him with Pearl, “At least it was one of us.” She giggled, including herself into his celebration. Pearl stretched out, wiggling until she was free. She situated herself on Billy’s lap next, staring at him until he finally gave in and let her rest across his lap.

“Damn,” Russell mumbled despite Rosemary’s protest, “I wanted the good luck.” He replied, pouting out his bottom lip.

“Here,” Billy mumbled as he tossed the quarter in Russell’s direction. Russell stared for just a second too long and the quarter bounced off of his head , “You can have it. It almost took my tooth out.” He replied as he rubbed at his jaw, while Russell rubbed at his head and whined about being picked on.

“I did warn you that it was in there.” Rosemary pointed out, smiling sweetly as she continued to eat her dessert. Kim nodded her head softly, but was glad that Billy didn’t end up swallowing it.

“She really did.” Sam said with a nod of his head, agreeing with her as everyone settled back into their spots. Kim glanced at where Pearl was resting against Billy, then smiled as her soft purrs reached Kim’s ears.

“Does anyone have any resolutions?” Rosemary asked a few minutes later, her legs crossed as she ignored the pile of dirty dishes that had gathered on the coffee table in front of them. Kim glanced towards Billy, realizing he was staring at the pile of dishes.

“We already started ours,” Billy grumbled, “So no.” He chewed on his bottom lip, looking like he was seconds from knocking Pearl off and scrubbing the dishes clean himself.

“I think I have one,” Sam said at last, “I want to finish my degree in geology. I think that would be nice.” He replied, smiling nicely in response.

“That would be fun,” Kim told him softly, “You’re really good at it anyways.” She told him truthfully, wishing she could fully understand the way he and Max enjoyed collecting rocks. She hoped that Max wasn’t being too cold to him.

“I want to grow taller,” Russell said at last, “I want to be taller than everyone.” He said proudly as he crossed his arms. Kim already figured that he’d be taller than her and Billy soon. He just had to grow past Sam’s height.

“I want to be shorter.” She said in response, still feeling awkward at how lanky she seemed in comparison to other girls. Cindy was a similar height, but she had a certain confidence about it that Kim lacked.

“No you don’t,” Billy interjected, “I like your height.” He said as he nudged her leg, looking almost offended by her words. She felt her face growing warm.

“Oh,” Kim giggled, “I want to get better at crocheting then.” She said at last, feeling that was a better answer than her previous one. Rosemary thought for a moment.

“I think I have everything I need here,” She said softly, “Although, I would like to take a jazzercise class.” She said thoughtfully, wrinkling her eyebrows together before she nodded her head.

She snuggled up to Billy the rest of the night, watching the hours drag by as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She kept blinking, her head lolling against Billy’s shoulder as she felt herself slowly falling to sleep.

“I’m tired,” She mumbled as Billy shifted her again, trying to get a rise out of her again, “Maybe we should have a little nap.” She replied as she pulled her feet onto his lap as she moved her face into the crook of his neck.

“It’s not even midnight yet.” Billy laughed, poking at her sides to try and jolt her awake. Sam and Rosemary were already passed out on the couch, the sound of them snoring making a nice melody for Kim’s sleepy ears.

“All they do is shoot off fireworks,” She whined softly, “So what?” She pouted as linked their fingers together, feeling like a nice long nap sounded a lot better.

“You’re staying up,” He teased her, “Don’t even think about falling asleep.” He replied as he tickled at her sides, making her giggle in response. She stretched her arms out above her head as a loud yawn took over, swaying the amusement she’d briefly felt.

“But I’m so tired,” She whined, “And you’re so warm and the couch is soft.” A squeal left her mouth as he tickled at her sides a little harder, before he wrapped his arms underneath the back of her thighs and against her back.

“Let’s fix that then.” He grinned mischievously as he lifted her into the air, making her shriek as she gripped a hold of him. He shook her lightly, grinning down at her as he carried her to the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” She asked him worriedly, suddenly fearing that he may try and dunk her into cold water. She gripped him a little tighter, not wanting to feel her body erupt into a shivery cold.

“Outside.” He said briefly, keeping his features stoic as he pulled the door open with his free hand. She gasped, squealing loudly at the feeling of the wind hitting her body.

“It’s cold out!” She protested, her eyes wide as the cold breeze hit her. She shivered instantly, almost wondering if being dunked into the tub would’ve been better.

“It’ll wake you up,” He grinned mischievously, “It’ll be just for a minute.” He chuckled as he held her, his features warm despite the chilly breeze. She snuggled a little closer to him, trying to soak up his warmth.

“Goodness,” She shivered in his arms, “It’s freezing.” She told him seriously, feeling like she was well alert and awake now. He grinned as he looked down at her.

“At least it’s not snowing.” He added, making her smile in agreement as she moved her arm underneath his hair so she wouldn’t accidentally pull on it. He slowly began to shift her in his arms.

“Oh you’re right,” She laughed as he slowly set her down, “Do you know how to ski?” She asked him curiously, keeping his arms up so she could wiggle underneath his warm embrace.

“No,” He grinned as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, “Do you want to learn with me?” He teased her, making her wrinkle her eyebrows together as she thought about it. There was no way she’d be able to ski. She’d end up breaking something, she was sure of it. Or toppling off the slope.

“I would not be any good.” She told him seriously, squinting her nose up as she continued to think of all the horrible ways she might die from skiing.

“But we could learn together,” He grinned, “Do you want to go to the mountains for spring break?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He rubbed at her upper back softly, giving her a sense of warmth as she brushed her cold nose against the side of his neck.

“Maybe,” She laughed as she pushed her hands into the back of his pockets, “You’re so warm. It would be so cold there.” She told him seriously, grinning at the way he jolted as she squeezed at his flesh.

“I know a way to keep us warm.” He smirked softly as he tilted his face down to look at her better. She grinned, having an idea of what he was talking about. It was tempting.

“Mhm,” She smiled, “I’m sure you do.” She replied as she buried herself into the crook of his neck again, trying to get her nose warmed. She kissed his skin softly, glad that her infections had finally cleared up.

“What are you two doing out here?” Russell shouted as he pulled the door open roughly, looking a little disappointed at the way neither of them jumped apart. Kim raised her eyebrows as she turned towards him, her hands still glued to Billy’s ass.

“Warming my hands.” She said simply, giggling as she clung to him. Billy chuckled as he kissed her head, both of them watching as Russell wrinkled his features up in annoyance.

“Weird,” Russell said, “There’s this thing called gloves. Maybe you should knit some.” He wrinkled up his features, looking a little bit like the solution was simple before he walked back inside. Kim gaped as she removed her hands from Billy’s pockets.

“I crochet,” Kim stammered out, “It’s different.” She shouted after him, but he was too far away to pay her any attention. Billy smacked the side of her thigh, smirking softly before he dragged her back inside.

Once it hit eleven it wasn’t too hard to stay awake, at least for the extra hour. She ended up covering Sam and Rosemary with a blanket, watching the way they continued to slumber. Kim was slightly jealous, wishing that she could sleep that hard.

She sat crisscrossed with Billy, Pearl resting lazily between them as they listened to the music playing over the radio. She bashfully worked on her crocheting as Russell talked Billy’s ear off about the newest video game that he’d recently beat.

They lingered near the kitchen, closest to the radio as the countdown began. They shouted out the numbers at the same time, Kim and Russell being the loudest as they eagerly jerked Billy’s hands up and down in the air. He was smiling stiffly, though his eyes were draped in excitement.

“Happy New Years!” Kim shouted at the same time with Billy as she loosely held her arms around his shoulders. She grinned, laughing before he pressed their lips together in a frenzy. She kissed him deeply, sliding her tongue against his bottom lip as Russell gagged and ran away.

Billy cupped her face gently, dragging his thumbs across the curve of her face as he kissed her sweetly. He dragged his lips against hers, inhaling the taste of her as she kissed him just as eagerly.

“Happy New Years,” Billy smiled softly as he pulled away, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose, “I’m glad I have you.” He mumbled as he brushed his fingers against the base of her neck. She smiled in return, feeling her heart hammering at his words. She felt the same way.

“Hey,” Russell approached cautiously, “This got mixed up with my letters.” He said, looking a little sheepish as he held it out to Billy. Kim tilted her head in confusion, watching the way Russell pushed it out towards him.

“Did you read it?” Billy wrinkled his eyebrows together, looking a little playful as Russell looked at him with wide eyes.

“No,” Russell flushed, “I thought about it but I stopped. That’s why it’s a little torn.” He explained quickly, looking like he might get in trouble. He bounced on the tips of his toes, looking at the paper curiously as Billy turned it over. He fell silent.

“Whose it from?” Kim asked curiously as she leaned over his shoulder, only to stall softly, “Oh.” She replied as she read the name, faltering for a moment. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d try to contact him one way or another.

Billy said nothing as he opened the letter. He didn’t tug it away either, rather he tilted it in a way that Kim could easily read with him if she wanted to. She glanced towards him, feeling a little worried at how tight his features became.

The handwriting on the letter was sloppier than usual, making Kim wonder if it was rushed. She didn’t want to think that Neil actually had something wrong with his health to make his letter so messy. She actually couldn’t make out most of what it said from this angle, but the messy letters certainly didn’t help.

“What does it say?” She asked, squinting at the words as she did her best to try and figure out what was being said. It didn’t make sense to her. Not at all.

“He’s requested a transfer,” He replied softly, “He’s coming here.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove stepcest #tw stepcest #tw pseudocest #Billy Hargrove x original character #Billy hargrove x fem!oc #Billy Hargrove x female!oc #Billy Hargrove x female!Original Character #Billy x Kim #Dancing in the Dark

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lilmissnatcat24 · 4 months

Text

Turn Left Ch 27- The Monty Hall Problem

Forces work to separate Shepard and Garrus just as things heat up. (CW: drug use)

Relationship: Femshep/Garrus Vakarian

Archive Warnings in author's note

Additional tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, slow build, alternate universe- canon divergence, detective noir, sex club, anonymous sex, canon temporary character death, murder mystery, drug use, dom garrus vakarian, whump, smut, heavy angst, alien sex, dual pov, an overly sexual elcor named candy, earthborn, ruthless, fake/pretend relationship, dead dove: do not eat, identity porn, minor character death

Detective AU mixed with identity porn mixed with so much whump my fingers are bleeding

(or, start from the beginning here)

lil text blurb:

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The glass case that surrounded Medina’s office gave Shepard the distinct feeling as if she were a lobster in one of those all-you-can-eat buffets just waiting to be boiled alive and dunked in obscene amounts of butter. She always liked to say that Medina had a glass office because he was into some kinky exhibitionist shit and enjoyed torturing his officers with everyone else in the precinct watching as if it were some gruesome spacecar crash that they couldn’t turn away from. Today was no exception.

His voice on the tool was strained and oddly formal when he asked Shepard where she was. Of course, she couldn’t exactly say she was hosting two fugitives in a C-Sec appointed safehouse, now could she? So she lied, like she did so often that came out easier and faster than the truth, spinning some yarn that she was meeting one of her moles that was starting to feel a little queasy about their placement. Medina didn’t yell, he didn’t raise his voice-- which for him was absolutely a first. In a chokingly polite way, he asked that Shepard come see him as soon as she possibly could, as it was a sensitive matter of great importance. And he actually said those words in that order like it was fucking 1876 or something.

Medina, not looking up at Shepard, gestured down to the seat in front of his desk that she was convinced was designed with absolutely zero comfort and one hundred percent torture in mind. His eyes, jet black and piercing, were trained on his hands, his periwinkle tattoos bisecting his face in half down his nose and mouth. Shepard didn’t know if it was because she was spending a whole lot of time with turians lately, but she swore she could hear his subvocals. Or at least, she could feel the rumbling underneath her feet, as if they were an old generator running in another room.

“Sit. Please. Do you want a water? Coffee?” Oh fuck. Medina was not a nice man. He didn’t do polite smalltalk. Either he was about to hurl the table across the office and shatter one of the walls, or he was about to tell Shepard that he was terminally ill, there was no in between. She shook her head. “Alright then. I’m going to give you a chance first. Do you want to tell me why you think you’re in my office right now?”

Shepard had no clue. And this time, she wasn’t kidding around. She had gotten into so much trouble lately, the list of Reasons Why Medina Would Call Her Into His Office was so long that it stretched out past her desk and snaked itself onto the floor. So she shook her head, staring pointedly down at her knees. She figured the less blabbing she did, the chances that she would park her foot right in her mouth were present.

“Nothing? Nothing at all that would make you think that I would want to talk to you?”

“I paid Trent in Hacking fifty creds to jimmy the vending machines to my touch ID so that I get free protein bars,” Shepard blurted out. Medina just stared at her for what seemed like minutes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

He reached underneath his desk for a datapad, tossing it forward until it skidded to a halt in front of Shepard. Hands shaking slightly, she picked it up, expecting the very worst. Her leading a charge against Fist in Chora’s Den, her breaking Wrex out of prison, her housing a fugitive, her letting Benezia’s daughter murder two asari in front of the precinct…

#mass effect fanfiction #mass effect #mass effect fanfic #shakarian #shepard x garrus #ao3 fanfic #turn left #femshep #garrus vakarian

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morgansmornings · 12 days

Text

SHIPPING INFO /

/ Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

REPOST. Don’t reblog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

@brooklynislandgirl While I have gone on to the point of endless circles about how Jayden loves Beth. It is more than a love of being friends. There is such a deep connection, may be not soul-mate status, but close enough that if it were true, then I would have no reason to argue against it. They are a close as they can get as friends, as family, and more. Beth and Jay were created, on paper with pens and pencils, sticky notes and yarn to connect the dots. Looking a lot like a conspiracy board to outsiders. But Turtle and I spent a solid six months, if not more, working out details of the girls' lives and how they fit together with each other. Across different verse and timelines. How they know that the other will be there when all hope is lost and there is nothing left but each other.

All of my ships are near and dear to me. To know that there are those out there that are putting in the time and effort like I am to make the Ship, no matter what shape it takes, to work. I can't give specifics as to why one is greater than another when the reality is that I see them all as stars in my night sky of written words.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

It would be easier to state what I will not write when it comes to shipping. Meaning I will NOT write things like Non-Con, Age Play, Daddy/Mommy Kinks and closely related themes to the listed ones. I refuse for many reasons that do not need explanation further than I'm just not going to do it.

The Following are Available if the Muns are friends for at least Six Months and are consenting to: Dub-Con could only come up as a suggested plot if I have written with you over a regular basis and that we talk near constant OOC. Toxic and Negative Ships can be brought up provided that we the Muns have a healthy understanding and plot it out over several weeks.

Sex and BDSM topics can be talked about after two months of OOC of conversation. Or if we the Muns feel comfortable enough with each other to talk about such things. But that is a preference of mine.

That being said, I am open to most types of shipping from romantic, to friendship, to familial, and even frenemies. With the clear statement being that, and let me say it loudly for those in the back of the auditorium, COMMUNICATION IS KEY!

For me to be able to write out certain things, I need to know where my partner is at. I will check in with them at every reply, ask questions to the point it might feel like an interrogation to the outside the thread. If it becomes clear that the ship is starting to harm or make my RP Partner uncomfortable, I need them to be honest with me and I will terminate that specific ship and all threads relating to it.

I am not here to get my jollies at the risk of my partner's; mental, emotional, and physical health. Nothing is worth hurting another human being for.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

Age gaps do not really bother me so long as again, We Communicate. I do prefer the Muse in question to be over 21 as I am not going to even pretend to enter the Underage thing. It honestly creeps me out now that I am older in real life. I get a few years, but after they are approaching being about five years younger than Jay is where I draw a hard line.

Are you selective when shipping?

I have to say that I am to a certain point. I like the semi-realism of watching Muses meet, grow and interact. Seeing that relationship develop and blossom gives the Ship a certain fondness for me. Something I can look back on and go "Yeah, that was the moment it became something real." I have stated that I am a slow-burn kind of girl, but that doesn't mean we can't plot the past and jump into an established friendship.

I am open to figuring out pre-established romantic relationships, so long as it is not fresh following each other. I need to know you a bit more than a name and a "hey baby, how you doin'" if that's okay.

I will be honest, unless I have known the Mun for a spell and it is something that we have plotted for, Jayden is not going to just drop her panties and say please within the first ten minutes. That is something that I don't feel right about as I think it betrays who she is as a person. Yes, she is an OC of canon characters from a show. But she is more than her parents. She belongs to no one, except maybe Beth and even then Jay does not always listen. She can make her own choices.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

Personally, I like to stick to T.V. standards. If it would be considered rate R, then of course I am going to tag it as such. But for me, I like to take it somewhere more private if the Scene goes to Third Base. Mostly because A) I do not have a lot of experience with writing for the public, and B) It takes days if not weeks to make sure that I am follow where my fellow Mun wants to take things.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

I have several ships that I will go down with. But I understand that life happens. To list them all would keep us here for several hours. And even then I would feel like it wouldn't do the Ships justice. Because I love them all in different ways.

For those standing Ships, it takes a weight off my soul to know that my mutual Muns have taken the time to chip away the near indestructible wall of Jayden's exterior personality to get to that soft gooey center. That they can see she has flaws and still choose to love her on purpose. No matter what that love is.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?,

Don't get me wrong, I would like a head's up that it is something you, the Mun asking, is interested in. If it happens by accident, that is awesome. I'll be fair and honest, unlike my Muse, I am in real life oblivious to people flirting and the associated actions. So if you are subtle about it, I won't see it. And my goal is to not intentionally hurt someone because I was "Madam Not Getting the Hint."

And if I am asked, then I have a better grasp of what direction we want these stories to go. And yes it will change how my Muse interacts with yours.

How often do you like to ship?

I am not looking to force anyone into anything. As it has been a very large Issue in the RPC. Only getting followed for sex and nothing else just isn't my cup of tea. Not to say that you can't do that, I'm just respectfully bowing out of that.

I want us to know each other, to be able to be friends before putting a label on what our Muses are. But I would like to hope that our Muses could have at least and "I tolerate you" and "I would save you from being on fire" kind of ship.

Are you multiship?

I am. Each ship is in their own bubble pocket universes and timelines. Think of them as Pants of Time. There are two choices, and each one taken changes that timeline differently.

That is not to say that I can't enjoy watching other relationships come into being. Even if there are multiple crossover verses with several Muns, UNLESS TALKED ABOUT BEFORE HAND, there is very little butting into someone else's relationships. There is no "Oh my God, Becky you're dating my man! How Dare?!" Honestly cheating plots are not something I am all that interested in? But that is just me.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

I mean, kind of More or Less. If one happens I am here for it. But even if one never comes up, that is okay too! Sometimes you just see Bob Joe at the park when you walk your dog and exchange a "Still breathing?" in passing.

I have had a standing Mutual that at first our Muses would just annoy the shit out of each other for like a year's worth of multiple threads. And we as Muns were fucking tickled pink by it. To this day I am not sure if He considers Jayden His friend or that woman the bane of His existence. I am looking at you my feathered friend.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

I have so many that it is silly and that there is very little time to explain them and why I will die on their respective hills.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Talk to me. Be honest with what you want to see and I will do my damn best to make it happen for you. I sadly cannot read minds from my desk chair. SO in order for us to write something we are both enjoying, I need to have a head start and a map to get to the right path we want to take our stories into.

Tagged by: @brooklynislandgirl

Tagging: Look over there. It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a Meme you are now tagged in!

#More Memes for the Meme Gods | Meme #About the Stoat of Sarcasm l Mun Things #OOC | Notes from the Stoat

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rere-the-writer · 3 years

Note

Can I request an imagine where the reader is mad at the Mikaelsons and she pretends to forget anything about them (maybe through compulsion like Stefan forgot about Klaus?) to teach them a lesson? And I would also like to say that I love your fics!

Yes time for some angst. And thank you also sorry for this angst.

Warnings: Angst like all the of the angst again sorry

You knew it was stupid and knew they loved you but you were feeling ignored by your lovers. You understand that Hayley needed to be protected as she had Klaus's child. But you saw how she seemly had both Elijah and Klaus wrapped around her finger.

Kol was always around Hayley too so was Rebekah, while Hope you completely understood but why Hayley. The more you thought about it the angrier you got and was tired of a cold bed and being seemly cast aside so you had packed a bag feeling an anger you never felt before. You texted Marcel to meet you at the train station as you headed down stairs pausing seeing Hayley practically nuzzled up to Elijah as she happily talked to the others.

Angry tears clouded your eyes and left knowing that once they knew what you did they'll be upset. But so were you and left for the train station.

"Are you sure about this? What about the baby?" Marcel asked as he stood in front of you as you smiled sadly looking at your best friend placing a hand on your abdomen as hurt wrapped around your heart.

"Yeah Marcel.....maybe they'll learn a lesson but I know I'll go crawling back if I don't. So here." You say taking off your vervain necklace handing it to the vampire ready for him to compel you.

"You will forget all you know of the Mikaelsons. You'll forget that you loved them. You'll live a happy life, find love....you will happy with your baby."

The composition settled over you and Marcel left watching you blinked confused then looked at your train ticket. You hurried to your train ignoring the odd pain in your heart.

"Where is she!" Kol called out from your bedroom that felt oddly cold as it had been three months since you left. Kol was looking for you when Rebekah brought up your anniversary was coming up.

"Who?" Hayley asked as Elijah gently removed the female hybrid from his side frowning. Elijah knew who Kol was talking about, you their little Queen who seemed to be gone at the moment.

"Y/N isn't in her bedroom?" Elijah asked Kol looking up at his brother who was on the catwalk while Hayley followed after him.

"No."

"Check my bedroom if she isn't there then she's in Niklaus's."

"She isn't there either!" Kol said making Elijah frown listening for your heartbeat coming up with nothing. Klaus and Rebekah was walking in with bags of gifts for you.

"Something wrong?"

"Y/N isn't in the compound." Elijah answered Rebekah who smiled placing the bags down.

"Maybe she out getting gifts. You know our little wife Elijah, things need to be prefect."

"No she would have told Kol and I if she was leaving." Elijah said this made Klaus and Rebekah frown while Hayley was confused.

"Wait....I thought Y/N was only dating Kol?"

"No, Hayley we share her. She is our lover but now seems to be missing." Rebekah tells the hybrid as Klaus searched their home for you. Hayley looked to Elijah who nodded this made Hayley a little jealous knowing this new information.

"She isn't here." Klaus growled as Marcel walked in carrying a box when Klaus grabbed his attention.

"Marcel! Do know where Y/N is?" Klaus asked the vampire who was your best friend. Marcel was a little annoyed that it took them three months for them to notice you were gone.

"Yeah but I am not telling you." Marcel tells Klaus as he had a guy watching over you as you were happy and safe. Marcel grunted surprised to see Elijah was the one holding him by his throat.

"Speak. Where is she?" Elijah growled eyes narrowed at Marcel as the younger vampire flinched.

"She is in New York."

You were shopping getting some Christmas presents for your work friends and your boyfriend. You had settled in New York after leaving New Orleans and you gotten a job as a historian at a museum.

"Oh sorry." You say bumping into a man dressed in a long coat and suit, he was handsome too handsome. He caught you and right away noticed your bumb and helped you stand.

"My apologies." He breathed as you felt like crying for some reason and saw four other people with the guy. You felt heartbroken for some reason seeing them but let go and stepped out of the man's arms.

"Well I need to go. So once again sorry." You say picking your bags up walking off missing the heartbroken look in the man's eyes. They watched you run to a man smiling at him as he wrapped his arm around you touching your belly.

"She doesn't seem to know us." Rebekah said frowning as Elijah nodded watching the man kiss your forehead. You both talking about a Christmas party something that hurt your vampires seeing you with another.

"It seems she had Marcel compel her." Kol said frowning as Hayley stepped forward wrapping her arms around Elijah's arm.

"Sounds like to me she doesn't want to be you with anymore." Hayley said rubbing Elijah's hand as he frowned.

"No she would still want us." Klaus said hurting as Kol and Rebekah agreed so they stayed going to win you back even though Hayley thought it was a waste of time.

They arrived to a Christmas party that Kol compelled their way in and stopped seeing you dressed in a gorgeous dress that flowed over your curves perfectly. You were with Ryan when you noticed the Mikaelsons blinking as the weird heartache was back

"Baby? You Alright?"

"Yeah Ry. Just the little bean being restless."

"All this lawyer talk got your little bean tired." Ryan teased lightly kissing your neck making you giggle pushing him away. Jealousy flooded the Mikaelsons as Hayley didn't understand why they wanted you back if you left and having Marcel compelled you to forget.

"Compel this Ryan and undo what Marcel compelled her to forget." Kol said as they agreed while Hayley got a drink shaking her head finding this all stupid. Hayley watched for the rest of the party of the Mikaelsons getting closer to you.

"Can we just go home? Who cares that she left. Because from what I'm seeing she doesn't want you all anymore." Hayley said wrapping her arms around Elijah's arm who was ignoring her.

"Heading off Ryan and Y/N?" Larry called out as Ryan laughed nodding wrapping your scarf around your neck getting the vampire's attention. Hayley was quite impressed of the apartment Ryan and you lived in still finding the Mikaelsons wanting you back stupid.

They reached your door and Kol knocked on the door which Ryan answered blinking seeing Kol. You looked up from knitting seeing Ryan walking in smiling with the Mikaelsons and Hayley following.

"Ryan, what is hap......" You cut off when Elijah was suddenly in front of you cupping your cheek.

"The composition you are under is lifted. You will remember everything." Elijah said watching you blinked as Ryan was compelled to stay in his office. You surprised them when you slapped Elijah as angry tears fell from your eyes.

"Why are you here?! And I am not surprised you guys brought her ." You said glaring as Elijah touched his cheek finding it hard to believe you smacked him.

"Now love, no need to be hostile."

"No need to be hostile? Fuck you Nik! You all seemly set me aside for some new pretty face!" You said standing anger filled you as they were taken back as Hayley crossed her arms.

"Rich coming from the pregnant woman that ran off. Maybe you don't satisfy them no longer." Hayley said as you glared darkly at her clutching your fists that were shaking.

"Or maybe you were just some lonely little wolf who took advantage of the fact she was pregnant with Klaus's daughter." You said lowly making Hayley freeze.

Now your lovers had never seen you like this before and this angry before as Rebekah stepped up to calm you down.

"Now sweetheart no...."

"No what? Be angry? Be upset? You all ignored me and that I gave you what you wanted suddenly you want me back? Because you finally notice I was gone."

"Guess what this isn't something you can fix with a sorry and we'll do better!" You said pulling away from Rebekah which hurt her as she other than Kol was the most affectionate with you.

"Look sorry I slept with Klaus and had Hope. Sorry you feel like I am so call stealing them away from you." Hayley huffed rolling her eyes annoyed with the situation. You held your head high a gilt in your eyes.

"Then say it Hayley if it ain't true. Tell Elijah that you aren't in love with him. Tell him your feelings for him means nothing. In fact tell them all how you didn't just sleep with Klaus to get information about the Crescent wolves."

You stood there a fire in your eyes anger in your heart as Hayley stared feeling the Mikaelsons eyes on her. You were ready to burn every bridge while Klaus couldn't take his eyes off you. You were reminding him of a Queen ready to wage war.

"I....you guys can't seriously believe her?! I have no feelings for Elijah." Hayley said looking at you frowning.

"If this is done. You guys can leave and undo the composition on Ryan." You say going back to your knitting things as Kol frowned.

"Darling, we can't leave you here to raise Elijah's child with some lawyer."

"How did you?"

"Figure it out? Easy Elijah was the last one in your room after me," Kol said crossing his arms, "also over heard you and Freya talking about getting you pregnant."

"Fine I'll give you that but I am not leaving." You said sitting down as Klaus groaned.

"Love, you are being stubborn. Come home.....it is cold without you."

"I could say the same when I was home. My bed was just as cold and lonely while you all fawned over Hayley." You said hitting them in the heart.

"Then why not speak to us how you felt?"

"Oh sorry Y/N Hayley needs help with the wolves. Sorry Y/N I am doing this thing for Hayley. Sorry for missing dinner love but had dinner with Hayley." You said mocking their accents while putting away your yarn since you won't be knitting.

Kol snorted a laugh getting a glare from Rebekah as Elijah knelt by you grabbing your hand. You looked at him raising your eyebrow at him.

"You're right. If you wish to stay here baby then we won't force you to come home. Lesson learned but promise you will come home when you forgive us."

"I will but don't hold your breath." You say taking your hand away as Elijah stood nodding to Klaus who fixed Ryan. They moved to the door hoping you'll change your mind but it never came.

You waited until you heard the door close before the tears fell from your eyes as you let out a sob and Ryan came out pulling you into his arms. You knew it hurt but you couldn't bring yourself to follow after them.

"We should have dragged her home, Elijah."

"Then she would have been more angry, Niklaus. We can only hope she'll return to us."

"Better hope you didn't make a mistake Elijah." Klaus growled walking out of Elijah's study. Elijah looked at his drink frowning.

"I hope so too Niklaus."

#rere's stories #mikaelsons x reader #mikaelson family x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #rebekah mikaelson imagine

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Note

Omg requests are open AAAHHH

may i request an oblivious oc and tsundere yoongi who likes holding oc's hands and idk like maybe oc thinks it's bc his hands are cold and his friends make fun of him and oc only realizes yoongi likes her when they spill his secret

as a yoongi stan, this is my guilty pleasure and this absolutely KILLED ME ily for asking this 🤣and double update today???? who am I?????

hope you enjoy this v fluffy and v yoongi piece <3

pairing: tsundere!yoongi x oblivious&clumsy!oc

genre: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF

warnings: lots of squealing into ur pillow moments. taehyung, jimin & jin being the saviours tbh

words: 3, 136

Yoongi is staring at you like you spilt milk over his favourite pair of sneakers and you have no idea what to make of it.

“Uh …” You drag, blinking up at him with wide eyes when all he does is level you with a blank stare.

You can hear the distinct chatter of your friends in the background, likely already having their go skating around the rink. They always left you and Yoongi alone, for whatever reason it may be. But you weren’t complaining, you wanted to give him your gift in private!

But when Yoongi only stares at the mass of knit in your palms as you hold it out to him, you can only feel your ears flush an embarrassing shade of red at the subtle gesture of rejection.

Yoongi was by no means a malicious person, but he was very clear-cut. He was straightforward and it was definitely one of his qualities that you admired the most about him. His ability to mitigate any situation, or look at things objectively was something that you struggled with for the most part of your life. Which is why some people would mistake him for cold or uncaring, but you knew better.

“Do you … do you not like it?” You ask meekly, eyes darting everywhere but his as they continue to stare you down.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs your hands with his larger palm where your gift lays and observes it, scrutinises it as if he’s there to pick apart any stray strand of yarn. His hand, despite his exterior, is soft and gentle when he holds you; and your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds when he traces a thumb over your knuckles.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Your eyes dart down to your hands and somehow you find them in a familiar position. His fingers intertwined with yours and his palm engulfing yours entirely.

“T-Then why don’t you—” You try to pull away, making an effort to dangle your hand-woven mittens in front of him in hopes of attracting his appeal towards it.

But he doesn’t even bat an eye, just sighs and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I’m holding your hand.” He says pointedly, shooting you a serious stare.

You stutter for a response, and despite the chill in the air you hope he can allude to the redness of your cheeks a result of the wind that blows past you and not the flustered state you find yourself in when he tugs your body closer to his.

You suppose you found a bad spot to give him the mittens because you nearly stumble into his chest at how wobbly you are on skates. You planned his gift for weeks, fully aware that your group of friends was intending on coming to ice-skate.

“I’m really bad at ice-skating. I’ll just slow you down.” You huff with a frown, still attempting to tug your hand away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I literally don’t care.”

You gape at his bluntness and scowl when he only offers you a lazy smirk. His hand is still tightly wrapped around your own, and you sigh, knowing that it was hopeless to fight against Yoongi when he was far stronger than you were.

“I can skate with Tae or something, he and I are pretty much—“

“No.” Yoongi blinks.

You splutter, “E-Excuse—?”

He snatches the mittens from your other hand and shoves them into his pocket. The action is so quick that you can barely register the way Yoongi is tugging your forehead as you flounder on your feet, already feeling unstable at the way the ice is set on making you fall.

But Yoongi is there like he always is, and he rests a gentle palm on your waist and shoots you a rare and soft smile that makes your heart weak.

“I’ll teach you.” He says it like it’s obvious, “Just hold my hand.”

“Yoongi, I really don’t think—” You weakly protest when he pulls you closer until you’re nestled comfortably by his side, his face set forward as he blatantly ignores you.

“Stop being so stubborn and hold on tight.” He scolds, squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers loosen its grip.

You pout, your other hand patting your cheek in hopes of easing the burning of your cheeks.

Lest to say, you are horrid at ice-skating and you wished you stayed home.

Your two left feet was probably the least interesting thing about you, yet it was the one thing that left a lasting impression on the people you’ve met. Whether it be because you tripped up a flight of stairs as you rushed to your next lecture, or if you accidentally torpedoed into a bush while you were attempting to penny

“How are you even real?” He huffs, fingers intertwined tightly with your own. You’re grateful he has a lethal grip on you because you don’t think you’re ready to be doused in ice, even if it was at your own accord.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, hand still clasped with his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go, even if you’re stable on your feet. He never does. He only holds your hand tighter, grumbling something about your clumsiness as he uses his spare hand to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulders. When he shoots you a look, you feel very much like a scolded child as you pout up at his narrowed eyes.

“What would you do if I wasn’t holding your hand, huh?” He laments, eyes rolling while he tugs you towards the direction of your friends who have somehow all gathered at the corner of the rink.

You stare at your feet, tittering to keep up with his long strides as he keeps the hold on your hand firm.

“Look, I don’t ask to be swept away—!” You retort petulantly, but Yoongi completely ignores you as he squeezes your hand in response, right as he stops in front of your friends.

You’re still sulking when Yoongi doesn’t let go, shooting you a look that has you pursing your lips shut.

“Lovely for the two of you to join us,” Jimin snorts.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you miss the lethal glare he shoots at your mutual friend.

“I’m sorry that my skating skills can’t keep up with you,” You huff.

You see Jin’s eyes dart down to your intertwined hands, before looking up; a knowing smirk on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Seems like Yoongi has it all settled.” He snickers, nudging Jimin by the side.

You can feel Yoongi roll his eyes next to you, even if you pout at Jin’s words.

“At this rate, I think you’re basically joined by the hands,” Jimin says smugly.

You blink.

“She’ll fall,” Yoongi says blankly.

“Look, I said I’d skate with Tae but he’s so adamant!” You cry.

Yoongi shoots you a dry glare, before briefly releasing your hand. You splutter for a second, surprised at the sudden coldness that engulfs your grip and the emptiness that you feel when he no longer has his fingers intertwined with your own.

“What—?” You furrow your brows but Yoongi pats you on the hand to ease your confusion.

“I’m getting you hot chocolate. Your hands are freezing.” He murmurs, and to prove his point; he grabs your fingers and rubs soothing circles on your knuckles to provide you with any warmth he could.

If your hands weren’t warm, then your cheeks definitely were. You couldn’t hold eye contact with Yoongi because he was staring at you so intently that you may have been the one to melt into a puddle on the ice.

“But the mittens—!” You call, but he’s already skating away to the confectionary stand where they sell hot chocolate.

You sigh, dejected as you frown. Did he really hate the mittens that much?

“You are so stupid.” Jin gawks at you with a shake of his head.

You turn your head so fast that you nearly fall over, but Jimin’s grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so.

“And clumsy, God, no wonder hyung won’t let you go.” He scolds.

You frown, “Hey! What the hell is up with the slander?” You whine.

Taehyung stumbles into the conversation, quite literally almost smashing his body against the divider but he manages to balance himself by gripping the hell out of Jin’s shoulders.

“You deserve it,” He sticks his tongue out as you gape at him.

“What?! Why?” You hiss, “You literally just entered the conversation!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “And I’ve had to see you and hyung doddle around each other for ages so spare me the fucking brain cells because clearly, you need it more than I do.”

“What—?” You splutter.

“You are literally the densest person on this planet.” Jin blinks.

“What are you guys even talking about?” You cry.

Jimin shoots you a dry look, willing the God’s above to give you a semblance of rationality or logic to put two and two together.

“The hand-holding? The constant going out of his way to do things for you? The fact that you’re the only person he’ll ever smile at even if you do the dumbest shit ever?” Taehyung exasperates.

You blink.

“It’s winter and his fingers get really cold—!”

Jin groans, tugging at his hair in frustration.

“No, you idiot! Yoongi literally doesn’t get cold. He’s the human equivalent of a furnace! He literally doesn’t give a shit if he freezes to death. The only reason why he ever holds your hand is that he wants to!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulder as he shakes your body while you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Does that mean—?

“He hates the mittens?” You cry, face crumbling.

You see Taehyung, Jimin and Jin’s face fall as they all share a look of disbelief.

“I’m sorry but I have no way to defend you.” Jimin blinks.

“I just wanted to do something nice for him! He’s always taking care of me and I thought knitting him a pair of mittens would help with the cold …” You mumble, eyes darting down to your feet as your voice trails off into a whisper.

“Okay, I know I promised hyung I wouldn’t say anything until she figured it out herself but I can’t take it anymore.” Taehyung seethes to the other boys.

Your eyes dart up, furrowing in confusion as Jimin and Jin’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s statement.

“Figured what—?”

“Dude, Yoongi is going to kill you,” Jin warns.

Taehyung scoffs, “Like I give a shit. I’m losing brain cells listening to her speak so this is an act of self-preservation. He’s going to thank me and so are you.”

“What are you—?” You huff.

“Yoongi likes you!” He exasperates, throwing his hands into his air.

The silence is overwhelming, as the four of you simply blink at each other. Your brain is processing his words, but it doesn’t really make sense. You’re confused as you attempt to deduce the meaning behind it until you come to a conclusion—

You look over at Jimin, “Are the two of you—?”

Jimin wants to scream.

“No, oh my God! Yoongi likes you! You!” He shakes you so hard that your head spins, “He likes you so much it’s disgusting and cute so you better do something about it and not accustom us to this torture anymore, okay?!”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You blink up, and you see Yoongi offering you a cup of hot chocolate, eyeing the rest of the boys weirdly as they stand there with tightened expressions.

“Here you go,” He says softly, helping you blow onto the steaming cup before gently placing it into your hand.

It warms you up immediately, and you only then managed to piece together what Taehyung and Jimin just told you. The realisation dawns upon you as a scandalised expression makes its way onto your face. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, observing the odd behaviour of the four of you as the three boys ignore his pointed gaze.

“L-Let’s go take a seat,” You stutter, pushing on his chest with your free hand as you attempt to skate away from the wandering eyes. The pressure was too much.

“Hey, hold on, you’ll fall.” He gently chides, doing what comes as second nature to him as he grabs your other hand, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

As the two of you skate away, you miss the sighs that leave the three boys’ lips.

“So, is there a reason why you tried to skate away like you were an Olympian?” Yoongi asks when the two of you managed to settle down in a small bench outside of the rink, tucked a decent distance away.

You look down at your palms, squeezing around the hot chocolate as you pay attention to the steam that escapes the surface.

The words from Jimin was essentially still haunting you, and you wondered if this was some sick joke of his to get back at you for mixing up his toothpaste with his shampoo a few months back. You sulk because this was a really mean joke and your feelings were about to get really hurt if he was lying to you.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, hand reaching out to tilt your chin up to look at him. His stare is so intense that you find yourself cowering away, cheeks red and embarrassed. “Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I-I … there’s nothing wrong!” You squeak, eyes travelling and landing on different people that wasn’t Yoongi. Anyone that wouldn’t cause your insides to melt with just his gaze alone.

Yoongi purses his lips in disapproval, sighing before he sets his hot chocolate by the table next to the bench and turns to face you. You knew that you had no place to run, especially when Yoongi essentially traps you with his eyes, observing your every move.

“You’re shaking.” He points out.

And only then do you realise that you were shaking, and your hands were basically vibrating with the hot chocolate. You cursed at yourself, and the cold.

“I-I’m cold.” You chatter.

Yoongi frowns, reaching out his hand to immediately grab your own to warm them up. But when you spot his hands, you squeak, immediately retracting them as if he was about to bite them off.

You realise how it looks, and you notice the slight drop in Yoongi’s expression when you reacted the way you did.

“Are you—?” He begins to ask, slow and tentative.

“Not my hands!” You blurt out.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he relaxes his posture and raises a brow at you in questioning.

“Okay …?” He drags, “Where are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” He asks.

You curse at yourself because you didn’t know how to get yourself out of this situation. Especially now that Yoongi was patiently waiting for your response. Your thighs were essentially brushed up against each other, and his body was leaned over ever so slightly that you catch every strand of eyelashes on his eyes.

You were so weak.

“N-No, I … you can keep your jacket.” You stutter, shaking your head as you pat his puffer down when he goes to shrug it off.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, “Well, can you tell me where so I can help—?”

“My lips!” You declare, voice high pitched and loud enough that it attracts a few stares from bystanders.

Yoongi just stares at you, and you’re mortified when you realise what you said, but you can’t seem to stop now that you’ve already dug a hole for yourself.

“My … lips … they’re ... cold,” You clear your throat, blinking up at him with a false sense of determination in hopes of shielding the way your face is undoubtedly on fire right now.

“Your lips … are cold?” He articulates each world tentatively as he observes your face for any reaction.

You nod.

“Yeah. Cold.” You say.

Oh my God, shut up!

Before you can even run away, and it’s as if Yoongi expects you to flee, he pins your hands down with his own and draws closer to your face so quickly that you can barely even catch his next move.

And kisses you.

Smack on the lips.

He pulls away too fast for your liking, and you’re gaping at him like a fish out of the water when you realise what he did.

“You—” You croak, pointing a finger at him.

But Yoongi leans in once more, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, one that sends your brain into overdrive as you feel yourself melt into his hold. If you were cold, you definitely weren’t anymore. Not when Yoongi is pressed against you like a warm lover by the fireplace.

He pulls away first, again, and you notice the tip of his ears turning red before he offers you that charming smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” He sighs, reaching out to cradle your jaw in his palm. And only then do you realise that Jimin was right, his hand is warm.

“W-What?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, ignoring the way you stare up at him with confused and wide eyes; likely still absorbing what just happened.

“Just hold my hand,” He tuts, reaching in between the both of you to intertwine your fingers together once more as he rests your combined hands on his lap.

“Does this mean …?” You ask shyly, head ducking away from his eyes.

He smiles at you, and you notice that it’s the same look he’s always had whenever he speaks to you.

He brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a gentle peck to it, causing heat to rise to your cheeks all over again.

“You warm now, cutie?” He murmurs.

You melt, “Oh my God! Don’t—just—I’m literally going to die!” You whine, shoving your face into his puffer as you scream at his suaveness.

He chuckles, low and deep as he unlocks your hands to wrap an arm around your body, tugging you closer until you’re practically glued to his hip like a koala.

“Don’t die on me now,” He sighs, “Just got you to myself.”

“I hate you so much.” Your complaint is muffled into his puffer, but you can feel his grin on the top of your forehead when he presses a warm kiss to it.

“That’s disappointing. I like you very much,” He returns.

You blush, but you don’t push him away when he laughs into your hair, the sound making you melt further into his arms.

You liked him, too.

#YOOOONGI #so cute #help me #tsundere yoongi #oblivious oc #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi scenario #bts fanfic #suga imagine #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi

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needtherapy · 3 years

Text

The Necromancer’s Apprentice

Xue Yang has seen The Dark House and he’s heard the rumors that a zombie, a witch, and a necromancer live there. It’s stupid, obviously, but...well...maybe he’ll just sneak in one night and find out.

It’s better than doing nothing. It’s better than going back to the group home. It’s better than sleeping on the street.

Aka, three mildly feral twentysomethings are forcibly adopted by one (1) very feral thirteen-year-old Xue Yang.

Read on AO3

Many thanks to @coslyons for co-writing this with me (all the funniest parts belong to them) and @kevinkevinson for beta.

There is a Dark House in Ballard, and people say to avoid it.

It is probably not called the Dark House because evil lurks inside, although there is some debate about that. It is called the Dark House because it is black from threshold to cupola, from shutters to frames, and it looms on a block where whimsical shops of brick and steel are far more common. Unlike the thrift store and the record shop, the hiking outfitter and the vegan patissiere, no ivy reaches toward the roof of the Dark House. Unlike the local yarn store, no dogs sniff the Dark House’s gate, although at least two cats—also black, naturally—are always sitting on the porch.

It may not be fair to judge a house by its color, but the local legends are clear. If you step on the cracks in the sidewalk, the Dark House will steal your soul. The wrought iron gate of twining snakes comes alive under the light of the full moon to snap at unwary joggers. Children who walk alone after dark get eaten, and the yard is full of bones that wail songs of their murders.

Xue Yang sits on a bench, across the street, eating ice cream and admiring the house. He wonders about the sanity of people who mow the lawn and trim the roses, yet painted their pretty little house black, until it occurs to him that he could just go inside and find out.

He waits until dark, not to stay hidden, but because it’s a more terrible idea, and Xue Yang always gives himself permission to do more terrible things whenever he gets the chance. The high iron fence buzzes with a strange kind of energy that crackles in his palms, so Xue Yang wraps his hands tightly in his flannel shirt as he climbs over. His mother always said he was a practical boy, back when she was still around to say things.

Xue Yang lands in the backyard with a quiet thump onto thin and scraggly grass. The center of the yard is dark under the watery moonlight, with the dirt churned up and loose, and for the first time, a tiny twinge of warning pings in the back of his mind.

He ignores it.

With a flick of his wrist, he summons his knife, a long black switchblade that is seven kinds of illegal and which he loves more than anything else he has ever had, not that there is much competition. With nimble and practiced hands, he slides the knife between the door and the frame, twisting just right when he reaches the lock. With a grin of triumph, he turns the handle, shaped like a gaping mouth, and opens the door.

In the center of the room, there is a long sort of table that seems somehow to pull all the darkness of the room toward it. The shadows gather most thickly around a large, human-shaped lump laid out stiffly on top of it. Xue Yang reaches out to poke it and feels something unexpectedly warm give slightly under his finger.

The shadowy lump on the table sits upright with a sudden jerk.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Xue Yang shrieks.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the shadowy lump shrieks back.

“Why the fuck is everyone yelling?” a voice says, and the room is suddenly filled with light.

The shadowy lump rips off the sheet and turns into a guy in his early twenties with a scraggly little beard and wicked bedhead. The voice belongs to a grumpy-looking woman wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe. She squints at him in the oppressive brightness, glaring for a long moment before apparently deciding to deal with the man on the table first.

“Wei Wuxian, I’ve told you a thousand times that the workshop is not a place for sleeping.”

“Technically—” the man begins, before being abruptly cut off by the woman.

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘yes, Wen Qing,’ then I don’t care. Go to bed.” She rounds on Xue Yang and he takes a tiny, involuntary step back. “You. What are you doing here?”

Before Xue Yang can answer, another guy—this one with long hair, killer tats, and a dedication to the goth look Xue Yang has to admire—runs in with a baseball bat held in his hands like a club.

“Jiejie! Is there something wrong?”

The woman—Wen Qing, she’d said—pinches the bridge of her nose and says, “It’s fine, A-Ning. I’m just trying to figure out what this little hooliganthinks he’s doing breaking into my house and tripping all of my wards while I’m trying to fucking sleep .”

Xue Yang is now convinced that what he’s broken into is some kind of madhouse, and he pastes a charming smile on his face, the one he uses when fists are clenched and the smell of alcohol burns in his nose. The smile whispers words like “anger issues” and “prone to destruction,” and it’s usually weapon enough, but he holds his knife a little tighter too, just in case.

The woman snaps around like she’s felt his fingers grip the handle of the blade and holds out her hand. “Give it to me.”

No. He will not. His chin tips dangerously, his smile grows icy spikes.

Her eyes narrow. “I could just take it.”

They face off for a minute, the tension almost palpable. Actually, Xue Yang thinks, it’s not tension after all. There’s something else in the air. It reminds him of the buzzing fence, and he doesn’t like the way it confuses him.

“Ah, Wen-jie, let him keep her. Can’t you tell? The kid is scared, they’re both scared, and it’s not like he can hurt us.”

Xue Yang is offended. He is not scared, but he’s relieved that Wei Wuxian spoke up all the same, because even though Wen Qing purses her lips and looks annoyed, she drops her hand.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms again. “Wei Wuxian, make sure our little guest leaves. I’m resetting the wards in five minutes and going back to sleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” Wei Wuxian grins and shoots finger guns at Wen Qing. “Sleep well and dream of me.”

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “Yes, because I love having nightmares.”

“Oh shoo.” Wei Wuxian flicks his hand at the goth man and Wen Qing. “To bed with you both. I can handle it.”

Their footsteps creak on the wooden floors as they walk further into the house. Xue Yang and Wei Wuxian wait in silence until the footsteps quiet, and then Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang. The grin he’d been wearing drops off his face and he looks serious, his eyes shaded and dark.

“Look kid, you should know better than to piss off powerful witches. It tends to be bad for the health.” The side of his mouth just barely tilts upwards, more wry than mirthful, and he looks old now. Old and grey and tired. “So, we’ll just call this a learning experience, and you’ll never come here again, right?”

Xue Yang snorts. “Are you kidding? If you’ve got real magic why the fuck would I leave now?”

“Toddlers shouldn’t swear.”

“I’m almost fourteen, fuck you very much.”

“Ah yes, I am now so convinced you are an adult.” Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “It’s two in the morning. You want to go home and go to bed. There’s nothing here for you to be curious about at all.”

Something sibilant and musical weaves its way through the words, and Xue Yang has his hand on the door knob before he fights off the slithering compulsion.

Holy fuck that was cool.

“Nah, I think I’ll stay,” he says, sauntering back casually, pausing to look at a weird painting of a monster facing off with an axe-wielding guy in front of a lighthouse. He feels a very strong sense of camaraderie with it right now.

Wei Wuxian sighs. “Sure, maybe you’ve got a little gift. But you’re a kid. Don’t you have parents who are going to, you know, notice you’re missing?”

Xue Yang stares him in the eyes, willing himself not to flinch. Something tells him this is a chance he’s never going to have again, a chance that requires honesty.

“No.” Xue Yang lifts his chin stubbornly. “I don’t.”

Wei Wuxian stares back, and Xue Yang gets the feeling that he sees all the years and all the disappointments that fit into that no. He doesn’t care. No one gives you what you want unless you take it.

This standoff lasts forever, or maybe it’s only a few seconds.

“She’s going to kill me,” Wei Wuxian mutters, and a little louder, “You can sleep on the couch tonight, but I’m locking you in the room and if you touch anything, I will turn you into a mannequin.”

He turns to leave, but looks back with a frown. “Wen Qing builds beautiful, elegant wards that you’ll never feel, never even notice if she doesn’t want you to. Mine will hurt. Don’t. Touch. Anything.”

Xue Yang decides, in the principle of magnanimity, to agree. “Whatever.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head and points a finger at Xue Yang. “Go to sleep, kiddo.”

The words hold Xue Yang’s hand and lead him to the couch, make him lay down, and within minutes, he is asleep.

He opens his eyes to piercing sunlight and a pale face inches from his.

“What the fuck!” he yelps, instinctively grabbing for his knife and snapping it open.

“Mr. Wei, he’s awake and noisy,” the face says, and Xue Yang focuses on its features.

It’s the goth guy. His arms have full-sleeve tattoos, matching patterns of stark black geometric lines and circles, but his neck has weird black veins tattooed on it. His eyes, which are still way too close to Xue Yang’s, are so dark they’re practically black.

“Where’s the witch?” Xue Yang asks, sufficiently recovered to be an asshole.

“Boiling children,” Wei Wuxian retorts. He’s leaning over the table and taking notes in a tattered book, poking something with a tiny screwdriver. “It’s the only reason we let you stay.”

“Really?” Xue Yang can’t decide if that’s cool or terrifying.

“He’s always like that in the morning,” Goth Guy says conspiratorially. “By ten, he’s pretty nice again.”

“I’m never nice,” Wei Wuxian grumbles. “A-Ning, can you take our miscreant home, please? The last thing I need is cops knocking on The House door asking if we’re kidnapping children. Again.” “Okay, Mr. Wei.”

Xue Yang panics. He can’t go back there. Not since they found him alone with the fire. He knows what they’ll do, and he can’t go back. He won’t . He ducks under Goth Guy’s arm and has his knife angled under Wei Wuxian’s chin before he’s even processed the motor function commands “get up” and “don’t let him send you away.”

“No! You have to…” He scrambles though thoughts, desperate ideas, each one crazier than the last before he hits on words that work themselves loose from his mouth. “You said I had a gift, you have to teach me to use it.”

Wei Wuxian frowns, but instead of being afraid or angry, he tips his head and whistles, two notes that almost sound like a name. To his great shock and horror, Xue Yang’s knife vibrates in his hand, and his fingers snap open like a broken trap, dropping the knife onto Wei Wuxian’s waiting palm. He carefully folds the blade back into the handle.

“Jiangzai,” he says, almost affectionately.

It doesn’t mean anything, but then it does , and it hits Xue Yang so hard he collapses to the ground. The knife has a name, and he knows it’s right as soon as Wei Wuxian says it. Xue Yang’s heart pounds, and he hates it. He hates this motherfucker who just took his knife away and he hates the Goth Guy who is helping him back to his feet. He doesn’t want to stay anymore, and he shakes off Goth Guy, wishing he could throw his kindness on the floor and stomp on it.

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe you have a little bit more than a little bit of a gift. But you still can’t stay, and I’m not teaching you anything.”

Xue Yang snatches his knife— his Jiangzai—out of Wei Wuxian’s hand and stomps to the door. “Fine. Fuck you.”

He gets as far as yanking the door open and slamming it against the wall before he realizes that there is a person in the way, and she doesn’t look inclined to move.

“Here you go, kiddo,” she says, handing him a bag. “I bought you some clean clothes and a toothbrush. A-Ning will show you where the bathroom is. Come back down for breakfast when you’ve changed.”

This is somehow more terrifying than when she was yelling at him. Yelling he understands. Now she’s just being...creepy. He stares at her belligerently, and she sighs.

“Listen, you little shit,” she says, bending over to look him dead in the eye. She doesn’t have to bend very far, he realizes. She’s actually tiny, even though she seems as big as the Fremont troll. “You will either go willingly with A-Ning, who is very nice, or you can test my patience and get buried in the yard with all the rest of the naughty children who break into my house. Your choice.”

Yeah, that’s more solid ground.

“Fine.” He grabs the bag from her and waves at the Goth Guy. “Lead the way, A-Ning .” He means it to be an insult, but Goth Guy just grins.

Xue Yang hears Wei Wuxian ask, “Wen Qing, what the fuck,” before Goth Guy herds him up the wide staircase, and he doesn’t hear any more of her answer than, “A-Xian, I can’t let him leave. You don’t understand, I did a location…”

This close to the Goth Guy, Xue Yang decides to acknowledge that the pale translucence of his skin is probably not makeup.

“I’m Wen Ning, by the way. I doubt Mr. Wei or jiejie introduced me,” Goth Guy—Wen Ning—says in a casual tone.

“So are you actually dead or what?” he asks Wen Ning, and Wen Ning grins.

“Or what,” he answers enigmatically, and gently shoves Xue Yang in a bathroom with pink tiles and a claw-foot tub.

Once he’s bathed and changed, Xue Yang heads back downstairs. Breakfast is bacon, eggs, and toast, and he doesn’t even pretend it isn’t the best food he’s eaten in a week. It is, in fact, the first food he hasn’t stolen in a week, and that alone is a novelty.

He’s halfway done with his food when Wei Wuxian, who hasn’t touched a bit of his and looks as sullen as an orange, says, “I have been informed that there is some arcane rule about teaching a gift you discover, and my...how did you put it, dear Wen Qing? My immortal soul and earthly being will be in danger if I don’t capitulate to the inevitable?”

He glares at Wen Qing, and she smiles sweetly at him.

“Whatever,” Xue Yang says around a mouthful of eggs. “Are you going to eat that?”

Wei Wuxian passes him the plate of food, and Xue Yang closes his eyes in bliss. Food is amazing.

“There are conditions—don’t look at me like that, Wen-jie. I agreed, okay? I get to set conditions. First of all, you do whatever I tell you. If I tell you to sell turnips on the street corner, you better sell some goddamn turnips. Second, you don’t touch anything unless I say it’s okay. A lot of this stuff,” he waves his hand around the white and yellow room, which looks surprisingly cheerful for a kitchen in a black house, “is priceless and dangerous, so…”

Wen Qing clears her throat and glares at Wei Wuxian.

“Uh...don’t touch anything.” Wei Wuxian finishes, snaking a piece of bacon from Xue Yang’s plate and shoving it into his mouth before disappearing back into his workroom.

Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “I promise he’ll actually teach you stuff once he pulls his head—” She visibly checks herself. “Once he stops being an idiot. More bacon?”

The rest is on AO3

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #xue yang #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #Seattle #modern au #modern with magic #found family #the untamed fic #13k words #I just think teenage Xue Yang would have been very different with a family

115 notes · View notes

stark-tony · 3 years

Text

tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen.

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary: Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary: Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags:

warnings:

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings:

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary: It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?"

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary: Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary: Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary: An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary: In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings:

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings:

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

#bnha recs #my fic recs #abuse tw #bullying tw

76 notes · View notes

sxveme-2 · 3 years

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Three: The One When They're Alone

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4040

Lily knew was never a huge fan of Christmas. The only reason she put the amount of effort she did into it was for Hunter. He loved the holiday. As a child, it was usually one of the only days that his father would be home the whole day. But it was one of Lily's least favourites, because her parents weren't typically home for Christmas. Usually, Lily and her siblings would find themselves up at their grandparents. She wasn't complaining, she loved her grandparents, and she knew her parents wanted to be home, but their work was essentially them constantly travelling. And then further in her future, Scott may have been there for Hunter, but he was not there for Lily. He was seemingly at his worst during the holidays...and she just happened to be the one on the receiving end of his anger.

Lily hadn't seen Bucky get angry yet. It sat in the back of her mind like a looming threat, and she wondered if the past few months had simply been a facade. That in reality, he was no different. Did she think it was true? No, no she didn't think he would ever hurt her. But she had suffered such trauma from Scott that she just...she was never too sure.

"Your turn, doll," Bucky smiled, picking up two boxes that were very clearly wrapped by Rose, seeing as the girl was sending a knowing nod at her older sister, "Yeah yeah Rose wrapped them, my attempt was sad."

Lily laughed and kissed the man's cheek before turning to his presents that sat in her lap. She picked up the first one, it was long and rectangular, not too large either. Raising her eyebrow, she carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a lovely leather case with her name scripted on the top of it. Looking over at him, she pursed her lips before lifting the black lid, feeling the tears prick at her forest green eyes. She stared down at the silver necklace, running her hands over the scripted letter that hung from the chain. It was a small pendant, simple and discreet. But it was something that made Lily's heart grow three times its size. A simple B hung from the chain.

"Buck..." she whispered, looking up at him with glazed and teary eyes, "It's lovely." she cooed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips before lifting it from the white pillow it rested on.

"Let me." Bucky chuckled, taking the piece of jewelry and moving her blonde hair across her shoulder. She turned her back to him and shivered at his metal hand brushing against the back of her neck as he clasped the necklace together.

"Alright open the other one." Gen said excitedly, earning a head tilt from the blonde. Bucky chuckled lowly from behind her and Lily readjusted herself in her seat, carefully unwrapping the next box.

As she opened the lid of the next box, her confusion only grew. Inside the box laid a single white envelope with her name written. Reaching in and pulling out the box, Lily furrowed her eyebrows. Opening the envelope, her heart only continued to grow. Inside sat a picture of a cabin, covered in snow and decorated with lovely garland. The cabin was built of logs, and had a fire burning on the inside. The snow was so perfectly landscaped it almost seemed fake, but she knew it was just a picturesque image taken to lure people in for what she figured would be a vacation. In the bottom, a handwritten note was written out in Bucky's hand writing, with a simple few words summing up exactly what it was.

"Just the two of us." He repeated aloud, hand resting on the small of her back, tracing gentle patterns, "It's Steve's cabin. Y'know with him retired now, he doesn't exactly have a lot to do. But he said it's ours for as long as we want it." he continued, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"It's perfect, Buck," she whispered, a gentle chuckle lacing her voice as she turned and placed a kiss to his forehead, "Absolutely perfect."

-----

And it was. Bucky and Lily had decided to take Steve up on his offer the weekend of Valentine's Day. The couple had reached three months together officially, and she figured it would be nice for them to experience the romantic weekend alone together. No kids, no sisters, no work, no distractions. Bucky had promised her that there would be no interruptions, and that it was just going to be the two of them. He made an emphasis on the whole 'no work' part, and Lily would be sure to hold him to it.

Turning off the car, Bucky turned to look at Lily with a kind and loving smile on his face, "Alright doll, we've arrived."

Lily glanced out the window and smiled at the snowy landscape. It was February so the cold wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable temperature either. Lily was a Long Island native, so Northern New York weather wasn't exactly her favourite thing. It dipped down quite low and she would have to estimate it sat at about minus ten celsius currently. Either way, she was just grateful for the time alone with Bucky. It had felt like ages since the two didn't have something going on around them. Whether it be Bucky's work, or Lily's. Not to mention, Rose was nearing her due date and constantly stressed about the arrival of her baby, while also finding somewhere to live that wasn't Lily's.

"That drive felt like hours," Lily teased, leaning over and nudging Bucky's arm, "I'm just glad you didn't fall asleep on me old man." she quipped, popping open her door and stepping out from the car.

"You have been hanging out with Sam way too much," Bucky chuckled, following the blondes suit, "You're starting to sound like him."

"Well the man is a comedic genius, I should be taking pointers." She hummed, picking up her bag from the back seat and hauling it over her shoulder, rounding the car to meet Bucky.

"Don't tell him that, it'll inflate his ego even bigger than it is." Bucky chuckled, walking over and quickly grabbing her by the waist.

The blonde let out a bright laugh, curling over in his arms and stumbling along the snow. Bucky's chuckle filled her ears like a sweet song as the two stumbled back towards the log cabin belonging to their friend. His lips found her cheek and peppered loving pecks along it, causing her giggles to evolve into small squeaks as she fumbled to pull out the keys. When she found them, it didn't take long for the blonde to unlock the door and peel herself from the supersoldiers arms. Dropping her bag and tugging the grey knit hat off of her hair, Lily turned to look back at the man who stood in front of the door. Placing her hands on her hips, she admired him for a moment. Nothing was on her mind. Just him.

The way his eyes sunk a bit deeper into his face due to the years of struggle and trauma. The way he had let his beard grow out a bit, not fully a beard but a thicker stubble. Were his shoulders always so broad? Lily admired the way his arm flexed when he removed his own hat, swallowing deeply. But the biggest thing that stood out to her was the way he looked at her. That deep thought sort of gaze, as if he were doing the same thing she was. Admiring everything about the other. No exterior factors playing any games, just the two of them. Alone. He looked at her so lovingly, watching her every move intently and studying the way she acted. He was so in tune with everything about Lily that she began to blush, and he was merely looking at her, neither had spoken.

"What're you staring at, Barnes?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothin', Osborne." he retorted, closing the door and sliding his jacket off before turning back towards her, a smirk evident on his lips.

Pursing her lips into a smile, Lily ran forward and jumped up onto the man, wrapping her legs around his torso. Her arms snuck around his neck, while his found underneath her thighs. Their lips hovered mere centimetres from the others, breathing in the others' existence before finally connecting. It was cheesy and cliche but she felt fireworks deep within her stomach. The two moved together like ocean waves joining together, creating a large body of water. Lily's hands tangled themselves into the short strands on the top of his head and Bucky stumbled his way to the couch. He bent over and laid her gently on the leather couch. She hummed softly at the feeling of a yarn blanket tickling at her neck as he hovered above her. Both of their faces were flushed from the cold outside and the passionate moment they had just shared. Bucky's steel blue eyes stared down at her and he reached over the couch. Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily watched as he pulled out a black old fashioned camera.

"Surprised you know how to work one of those things, old man." she teased, covering her face with her chilled hands.

"Oh don't get smart with me now, doll," he purred, moving her hands with his metal one, "you'll regret it later." the man winked, quickly snapping a photo of the woman before tossing the camera onto the table.

"Is that a threat or a promise." Lily returned, a smirk evident on her lips.

"Well...I did tell Steve he'll probably want to hire a deep cleaning service after we're done." He chuckled, resting his weight on his heels.

"James Barnes!"

-----

Lily hummed gently to herself to the song that played through the small kitchen in the cabin. Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston was her background noise of choice as she put together a romantic dinner for her and Bucky to commemorate their first night there. The lyrics left her mouth in a soft tone as she chopped up cucumbers for the salad, her hips swaying gently to the music. Bucky had stepped out to the grocery store in town to pick up a few things they had left back at the house, and Lily wanted to surprise him. She had packed a dress that her and Gen had found at a vintage shop in Manhattan, it was 40's inspired, with a deep forest green colour, a bow at the collar with a keyhole that exposed a bit of her collarbone, and hit just below her knee. It had short sleeves, and made her feel like she should be on the dance floor of The Cotton Club in Harlem during the 1940's. She had attempted the classic pin curls of the time but...they were subpar.

Glancing behind her, Lily stirred the marinara sauce as the chicken baked in the oven. But the lights of the car made her stomach drop. She was hoping the snow would slow him down enough for her to finish dinner and have it ready for him when he got home. Pouting to herself, Lily returned to her chopping. Well, as much as she wanted her plan to fully execute itself, she tried her best. Not to mention, he had shown himself to be a fast driver. Her voice continued to sing out the lyrics to Whitney, as she checked on the chicken. She popped her head up briefly when she heard the crunching of snow grow closer to the door. She stood, and brushed off the soft dress she wore as she waited.

"The snow is crazy, doll, I swear," Bucky's voice called, "but I got the snacks you wanted. I also rented a few movi- woah."

A blush flooded the blonde's face as she locked eyes with the man across from her. He was covered in snow and carrying four different grocery bags. But they fell from his fists as he stared at her longer. Insecurities washed over Lily at his silence and she crossed her arms over her stomach, that familiar queasy feeling returning. Her eyes shifted to stare down at her feet as she shuffled on the hardwood floor, waiting for him to say something, or anything at that.

She didn't even hear him take off his jacket, his boots, or anything. She didn't even hear him walk over to her. But she did feel the way his arms slipped around her waist, hands playing along her stomach as the music changed into the 40's love songs she had put in the queue. The gentle sounds of guitar played as Aubrey Hepburn's melodic tone filled the kitchen. Moon River began to play, and Bucky nuzzled his face into the crook of Lily's neck. Her eyes fluttered shut as he swayed behind her, his grip moving her with him. The food long forgotten about, Lily turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck. Their foreheads met one anothers, eyes shut as they continued to sway back and forth in the kitchen. With the snow falling outside, and the delectable smells filling the cabin, Lily felt like she was in a dream. Any worry she had ever felt leaving her as the moment consumed her.

His lips ghosted hers as the song came to an end, but his grip didn't waver. The two continued with their dance, seconds turning to minutes as time seemed to cease to exist. The only thing both felt was the bodies of each other. His hands gripping her waist, rubbing circles through the silky material of her dress. The smoky musk of him filling her senses acting as though it were a drug, sending her into a state of euphoria. She knew they weren't a conventional couple, but it were these moments that reminded her that they could be. The couple that went on walks on the beach, or walked the dog through central park. Or danced in the kitchen at 3 in the morning. Went on ice cream dates, with or without Hunter. Spent time talking and telling the other just what went on in their heads. Growing together as separate people with a shared love.

But the fire alarm pulled her back from her daydreams, and reality smacked Lily in the face.

"Oh my god the chicken!" She exclaimed, pulling away from Bucky's strong grip as she grabbed her oven mitts and pulled open the oven, a puff of smoke wafting into her face.

Bucky laughed gently as Lily scrambled around, trying to salvage the rest of the meal she had planned. When she saw the sauce and chicken however, her heart sunk down to the floor. Groaning, the blonde placed her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands. She shook her head and felt the heartbreak spread through her at her failed evening attempt.

"If it makes you feel better," Bucky cooed, lifting his girlfriends chin to look at him, "I bought your favourite pizza, and rented your favourite movie...and just so happened to pick up your favourite ice cream," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, "and as hot as you look in this dress...why don't we just get into pyjamas and watch a few movies and veg out."

Lily smiled sadly at him and nodded, "I like that plan. I should have known that trying to cook alone would be a disaster."

"I give it an A for effort."

"Oh whatever, metal man."

-----

Lily groaned as she stretched her arms above her head, before rubbing the heel of her hand into her eyes. Peeling the lids apart, the bright sun sent a shock through her system. Collecting her barings, Lily realized her and Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch. She had to admit, it was a pretty comfy couch. It was made of leather and had deep sides with the tufted coverings, and small cashmere blankets that were not at all big enough to cover anyone. But the two had grabbed a few spare from the closet before they settled in for their movie night. Glancing down, Bucky's head rested on her stomach, the man still sound asleep. She admired the calmness in his face, the stress lines faded and smoothed out as he rested. Reaching behind her, she grabbed ahold of the camera he had brought and quickly snapped a photo, admiring his gentle snores. She ran her fingers through his hair and tilted her head to the side. Lily had known Bucky was handsome, hell, the first time she saw him she knew it.

He had chiseled cheekbones, a sharp jawline that was covered with stubble. His cheeks hollowed slightly, and his eyes creased at the edges. His nose was straight with a slight bump to it, and it fit his face shape perfectly. His eyes were hooded and even closed, held stories that she couldn't imagine. While asleep, they were less noticeable, but there were creases in the centre of his forehead, and Lily's stomach did a flip. His breathing was still that of a deep sleep, and she couldn't help but trace the contours of his face. The aged lines that each told a tale of his life. The rough patches of hair that prickled at the blonde's still hands as she continued to admire him.

Moments later, he began to stir from between her legs, causing Lily to giggle slightly as his nose scrunched. His eyes seemed to force themselves open at the noise, and the same feeling she got from the bright light seemed to hit Bucky as well. Her soft coos caused a groan to emit from the man's throat as he burrowed his face deeper into her stomach, pulling the blankets further over them both. Shaking her head, Lily pulled herself up from underneath the large man, or at least tried to. His weight was on a certain part of her body that just held her in one place. Throwing her head back, Lily shook her head before looking back down at him.

"Buck, c'mon, let's get up." She sighed, ruffling the messy curls on his head.

"Five more minutes." He whined, pulling her closer by her hips.

"No. I'm a mother, I know what five more minutes means," she laughed, "and we are not spending all day on the couch. Lets go skate on the lake today, love."

Bucky shot up, eyes wide at her request, "No. No, I refuse."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily crossed her slightly cramped legs, "...and why do you refuse, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky scratched the back of his neck as he avoided the intense gaze that Lily was sending his way. Lowering her eyes, the blonde crawled forward and took his face into her hands. They locked eyes and for a moment, she thought about kissing him. But she figured it would be better to figure out why he was so against going skating. Then it clicked, and she realized just why he was so against it. Pursing her lips to keep from smiling, Lily leaned back onto her heels.

"Bucky...do you not know how to skate?" She wondered, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"...Do not tell Steve or Sam they will be on my ass about it." Bucky quickly said, taking his girlfriends hands into his own.

"I won't, I won't, but I'm invoking the 'It's Valentine's Day' card. Because it's Valentines Day, and it will be romantic," she grinned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, "plus, I'll teach you how to skate. It's not that hard I promise. I saw they have skates down at the lake so c'mon, gotta get a good pair."

"You're gonna be the death of me, doll."

"That's what I'm here for."

-----

He wasn't lying when he said he didn't know how to skate. Lily skated gracefully out onto the ice, waiting for Bucky to lace up his skates. It had been a while since she had skated, seeing as it wasn't something she did commonly. She used to go all the time with Gen back in Long Island when they were younger, but eventually they stopped. But her muscle memory kicked in as she twirled and skated around the ice. She dodged children and couples as she warmed up her body. Only to spot Bucky hesitantly staring at the ice in front of him. Lily made her way back towards him, stretching her mitt covered hand out towards him.

"It's not going to bite, Buck," Lily smiled softly, moving a bit closer, "C'mon. I'll be here the whole time." she reassured, gripping his hand as he curled it into hers.

The moment he stepped onto the ice, both ended up falling. Him from a lack of balance, and her from the fact he fell. Bucky groaned while Lily laughed, pushing herself off the ground and placing her hands on her hips. He had flopped his arms out and let his head fall against the ice, a clearly forced pained look on his features. Rolling her eyes, Lily gripped his hand and yanked, attempting to pull him back up onto his feet. The thing is, he was a supersoldier, she was a doctor. She had strength, hell, she pushed out a child. But you see, Bucky was, once again, a supersoldier. Dropping his arm, and crossing her own over her chest, Lily glared down at him.

"I won't cook dinner for a week if you don't help me get you up." Lily threatened, arching her brow.

Opening his eyes, Bucky mirrored her expression, "Is that a threat or a promise?" He teased, resulting in a handful of snow to be thrown at him. A low laugh escaped from his chest as Bucky heaved himself up, gripping onto Lily for support.

"Wow you're such a comedian." She quipped, rolling her eyes and gripping onto his forearms.

The two skated for a few hours. Two to be exact. Bucky had essentially latched onto Lily's waist the entire time. She skated around, dragging him behind her as he bent over and hugged himself to her back, arms tightly wound around her waist. At one point, he did let go and try to stand on his own. He lasted about...five minutes. After that, Lily had to offer her back as support for the poor man so he didn't go tumbling face first into the ice. The entire time was spent laughing and stumbling, as well as Lily trying her hardest to just get him to stand. Sadly, she didn't have much luck. He continued to grip onto her even when they were heading back towards the edge to leave and take off their skates. It was endearing, but Lily had hoped to get somewhere with it. Still, she had a good time. And seeing The Winter Soldier be genuinely afraid to fall made Lily's heart swell. Seeing that more vulnerable side of him made Lily sure they were moving in a good direction in their relationship.

As the two neared the cabin, Lily saw a familiar car parked on the road across from where they were staring. She didn't think too much of it as they walked into the cabin, ridding of their coats and winter gear they had layered on, to face the bone chilling cold that had taken over the outdoors. Both then dropped onto the couch with cups of tea and coffee, Lily had the tea, and Bucky the coffee. His arm draped around her, drawing patterns into her knit sweater covered arm.

But the peace didn't last long.

A knock on the door surprised Lily and Bucky. They both stopped talking about their ideal vacations, and turned to look at the door. Lily placed her tea down and stood to her feet, making her way over towards the wooden piece. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she glanced over at Bucky before she pulled the door open. Her jaw went slack and mind went blank when she saw the person. Because she knew the reason he would be here.

"Hey Lily...is Bucky here?"

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vanillann · 4 years

Text

pancakes for dinner ii (spencer reid x reader)

part i

warning: swearing

word count: 1.9k

“Spencer?”

Spencer turned around quickly. He stood in the middle of my kitchen with batter sticking to his cheek.

“Pancakes?”

The tone in his voice sparked up, causing it to crack. The roller bag was long forgotten in the hallway, my feet not stopping until I stood in front of him.

“You got my message,” I spoke mostly to myself but the comment itself brought a smile to Spencer's face.

“I did.”

Not another second was wasted, my lips crashing onto his. I felt like I was floating, like I was on cloud 9. The way his teeth ran over my bottom lip made shivers run up my spine, I felt completely helpless in the best way possible.

His hands grabbed both sides of my face, slowly bringing me farther away from his own.

“Wake up.”

Huh?

“Wake up (Y/N).”

The sight of Spencer was gone in seconds, the overhead light of the plane taken over my vision.

“Hiya sleepy head.”

I turned back to my right, Lizzie's smiling face was a nice sight, but I was so mad it wasn't Spencer leaning in for another kiss.

Well, dream Spencer.

God, dream Spencer was just as hot as real Spencer.

“We are about to land,” Lizzie said as she grabbed my phone from my hands.

“What are you doing now, calling my boss?”

“Nope, putting my number in your phone.”

I smiled to myself, watching as my new found friend typed her number quickly into my phone.

Spencer fell back into his seat, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked at the loads of paperwork on everyone's desk.

“I need to call Savannah,” Morgan spoke quickly, stepping off to his office, his phone in his hand before he rounded the corner.

The talk of a phone call bought Spencer mine back to the voicemail (Y/N) had left him, sitting in whatever inbox the stupid thing had.

He looked through the glass door, the sight of the BatCave door was enough to have Spencer standing from his chair.

He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, knocking on the BatCave door because it was always nice to respect people's private space.

“Enter.”

Spencer pushed the phone open, trying to figure out how to work this weird tech box.

“What’s up Boy Wonder?”

Garcia's voice was smooth, as always.

“(Y/N) left me a voicemail but I can't get to the inbox.”

Without another word Garcia pulled the phone from his hands and typed away quickly.

“Speaker or handheld?”

Garcia looked up through the frames of her thick purple glasses, reminding Spencer of his old art teacher from college.

“Speaker is fine.”

Spencer didn't want to hold that stupid tech box with thousands, 17,000 to be exact, to his face if he didn't have to.

Garcia did her classic dramatic tape, the sound of (Y/N) voice made it all worth it.

“Hi Spencer, it’s me (Y/N).”

The first thing Spencer picked up on was the edge of (Y/N) voice, did something happen?

Are they kidnapped?

God not again.

“I have a feeling you and the team are on a case or something so you probably aren't going to get this until Pen teaches you how.”

“Burn,” Garcia said, making a fist and fist bumping the phone screen.

Spencer rolled his eyes, the sound of a faint laugh sounded through the phone, a note (Y/N).

No.

Just no.

“Okay, um here goes everything.”

Garcia and Spencer made eye contact at the same time, both confused looks burned into their brow.

“I wanna eat pancakes for dinner with you, I know that doesn't make sense to you and all but-um.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong, someone had to have a gun to your head if you were talking in code or something.

“A stranger on the plane told me a crazy story about the love of her life-”

Love?

“-dying in a plane crash and eating pancakes for dinner and I realized that I can't keep acting like I don't want you.”

Garcia dropped the phone, quickly jumping from her chair to pick it back up and hold it in front of both their faces, The bright screen lit up both their faces, both sided eyes and full of awe.

“And right now I’m horrified that this will end horribly but right now I’m stuck on this plane and if it crashes or I disappear or some serial killer finds me-”

Please don't bring up a serial killer killing you, not again.

“-I need you to know.”

Both FBI agents were bundled together in the middle of the room, both faces glued to the phone.

Hotch opened the door to the BatCave, opening his mouth to speak but Garcia hushed him quickly.

Oh god, In front of Hotch!

“I love you Spencer Reid-”

Hotch even took as small a gasp of air, not as big as Garcia but still louder than Spencer.

“-I always have and I can't help it that I wanna eat pancakes for dinner with you.”

Hotch closed the door, walking deeper into the room. He stood beside Spencer, his face still stern but the hit of a smile playing across his face, his dimples almost on full display.

“I can't help it that you might be the love of my life and I might die today-”

“No,” Spencer yelped out, Garcia quickly held a finger up this mouth and gave him a Hotch look.

“-so if you don't feel the same it's okay but I just need you to know, um yeah bye.”

The sound of a harsh click ended the call, but no one in the room spoke.

“Oh god, if you don’t marry her I will, you can be the best man if you want,” Garcia spoke at lighting speed.

“She called me the love of her life.”

Spencer couldn't focus on anything in the room except the tech box that (Y/N) perfect voice was just flowing out of.

“How about I take your stack and divide them through the team?”

Hotch laid a shoulder on his shoulder, breaking him from the daze he had fallen into.

“Here take my car,” Garcia jumped from her seat, handing Spencer here keys with a Minecraft character, maybe, hanging for the side.

Spencer grabbed the keys and left the BatCave within seconds.

I placed the key into my apartment, a small voice in the back of my head telling me Spencer would be on the other side of that door with pancake batter on his face.

I pushed the door open, keeping my head focus to keep my disappointment at bay. I clicked the lights on, finally looking up to see my kitchen completely empty.

I felt the sigh pass my lips, dragging the roller bag, which felt extra heavy now, to the side of my couch.

I looked over my shoulder, the clock on my wall making me want to cry.

2:35am

The time zone was off now and I couldn't sleep, the thought of work in the morning was what made a few single tears roll down my cheeks.

“I hate being old.”

My phone buzzed, my hopes that it was Spencer were gone when I saw Lizzie name pop across my screen.

Lizzie: home yet?

I typed a quick yes, shoving the phone back into my pocket, walking straight to the coffee machine.

If I was going to be stuck watching stupid movies until work might as well have some liquid energy.

The closer I got to the pot the sooner I realized that I had no more coffee beans.

Did the universe hate me, like really hate me?

I played with my keys between my fingers, the thought of running to the small supermarket down the street couldn't hurt.

I didn't think twice, walking back through the front door and closing it behind me.

I wandered down the coffee aisle, looking through the many selves of beautiful coffee beans. I grabbed my normal brand and turned left.

I saw the crowd of people standing around the exit, the thought of pushing through them right now made me cringe. I instead turned right, making my way to the other end of the aisle.

My phone buzzed again, I smiled to myself just knowing it had to be Lizzie since it was going crazy.

Lizzie: i think i should paint a picture of you

Lizzie: like with fruits on top of your head

Lizzie: looking like the hot ass human you are

I started to laugh until my head hit a hard surface, but definitely not wall hard. I reached out to the nearest thing to me. the feeling of soft yarn could be felt on my finger tips.

“I’m so sorry-”

I looked up, the sight of Spencer Reid's flusher face had my hand moving off his arm in seconds.

“S-spencer-”

“(Y/N)-”

The way his voice jumped three octaves made the nerves float from my body, just like his voice always did.

Suddenly the memory of the plane was crashing against the side of my brain.

Oh no, it’s weird it’s weird.

“You’re home!”

I watched Spencer's eyes dart around my face, his smile full of nerves.

I shook my head, my eyes going to focus on the white floor of the supermarket floor before something caught my eyes.

A box of pancake mix was held firmly in Spencer's hands.

Pancake mix, oh jumping Jehoshaphat pancake mix!

“Spence-”

“I’m more of a waffle guy but I’m willing to settle!”

The words came out rushed and for some reason his hands flew above his head, like he was going to get arrested or something along those lines.

The blush that was creeping up my neck was making my body feel hot, I nearly forgot there were people all around us in the supermarket.

“I’ll give up waffles completely if that's what you want-”

“How about waffles for breakfast and pancakes for dinners?”

I didn't know how the hell I said that so calmly, I felt like my body was going to explode.

The feeling from the plane came back when he slowly started to smile, the feeling of the clouds passing by at a slow pace.

“Yeah, good compromise. You’ve always been good with compromises-”

I watched his lips move at rapid speed, wanting to actually kiss him.

I wonder if it would be as good as dream Spencer?

His mouth didn't stop, I could even focus on what he was saying anymore.

Only one way to find out.

I grabbed his tie, crashing his lip onto mine, his lips sinking into my bottom lip from where he was talking.

I felt my eyes flutter close, the way his hand ran up from my shoulder to the side of my neck.

His tongue ran across my teeth before a loud cough echoed from behind me. We broke away from the kiss, I looked over my shoulder to see an older couple watching us, both giggle to each other.

“May we get around you both?”

I shook my hand, sliding to the side. Spencer's hand didn't leave the side of my face, my hand wrapped around his tie.

Both smiled, the women stopping themselves and smiling.

“Might want to clean that up.”

She pointed to the floor, the sight of a broken box of pancake mix laid messy across the floor.

criminal minds tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine

pancakes for dinner tag list:

@friendlyweirdobaby

#spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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twistedapple · 3 years

Text

Neve Bosconero - Snow White didn’t leave her home (part I)

Aaand here it is! The backstory I’ve been teasing for some months while secretly struggling to find the most suitable tone for it! I recommend you to check Neve’s playlist for the full reading experience - especially if you enjoy listening to background music while reading (check the #neve bosconero tag, I haven’t added to the masterlist yet but it’s been published two days ago so it should be easy to find)! This backstory is rather long so I divided it in two parts, this is the first one, the second one will be released at a later date (I’ll be taking a small break to reply to asks and handle my To Do list). And of course, feedback is more than welcome! This isn’t just a hobby, it’s actual training for me and readers’ opinions are needed to improve and experiment (especially since English isn’t my native language)! So feel free to comment either by reply or reblog so I can see what’s up and even chat up a bit (I also react to tags)!

Because of the heavy topics mentioned in it, I also recommend you to be careful while reading it.

Without further ado...

Neve was preparing the yarns of colourful wool she had carefully picked for her new haute-lisse project. The model had been placed behind the loom, and the shuttle was ready to be used.

She had a little story to tell.

----------

The story had two versions, yet both had the same beginning. A long time ago, back when the Valley of Thorns had yet to become, the border between men and fairies wasn’t as clearly defined as it was now. This lack of clarity caused the existence of a liminal space in which both men and fairies could interact, where magic itself seemed to gather and take curious shapes. The very first of those shapes was a set of twin apple trees, silver and gold, growing intertwined and bearing fruits said to have powerful magical properties. These trees were the central piece of a larger grove hidden in a large clearing hidden deep in the forest and overlooking an even deeper valley atop a tall cliff. They quickly fell under the protection of a group of fairies that could bind themselves to various trees. The second shape came from two drops, one for each of the twin trees, falling on old bones resting at their feet. As it came to life, it chose to take the form of an antlered, amber-eyed fairy with foliate hair, and started living among the trees and the shadows of the deep, dark woods.

Keeper of the forest, he would don crowns of oak and holly according to seasons and wear a mantle of greens that’d hide him from prying eyes. On the last day of the year, humans would pour a glass of milk to honour him who was known as the Green Man, for he had blessed the land and taught them how to grow and tend to plants from mere seeds. An agreement had been passed between him and the humans as well: the dark forest was his domain, and they weren’t allowed in without his consent. However, a human life is but a fleeting moment to a creature such as the Green Man, whose own life had been meant to be much longer. Thus, as time passed, the agreement became a story, then a legend before fading from memory – for a time. One unfortunate day, humans breeched the then forgotten agreement and started roaming the forest, appreciating the quality of its wood and the amount of land they could use to expand their fields. This angered the Green Man, it angered him so much he cursed the humans and their lands. For wanting to uncover the secrets of the dark woods, he sent shadows to stalk and route them out, for wanting to expand their fields, The Green Man ruined their crops, again and again, until there was no food left for the cattle, and then for the humans themselves - until they begged for forgiveness. They obtained it and order was restored – however the Green Man made sure that the agreement wouldn’t be forgotten this time...

At least, that is what humans tell. From the point of view of a fairy, about half of the story remains forgotten, and it all starts with the guardian of the orchard. See, the twin apple trees and their surroundings were tended by a fairy with ink black hair covered in apple blossoms. That fairy had taken the heart of the Green Man, and under the stars and the silver-gold light of the twin apple trees they had pledged their life to each other. By the time the agreement between Men and the Green Man fell into oblivion, humans had learnt how to wield magic themselves, and they started coveting the forest and its treasures again, though they were regularly pushed back by the Green Man’s beastly shadows, haunters of the woods that would assist him in its defence.

However, one fateful day a human child lost his way in the woods and happened to be found by the Green Man and the fairies. Tired and confused as he was, it was agreed to allow him entry so he could rest a bit, before being guided back out of the forest. The kind-hearted fairies took the little boy to the grove, where he discovered all the magical plants, chief among them the twin trees of gold and silver. Once the child felt better, the Green Man had him swear he would keep the existence of the precious grove secret before guiding him back to human lands. When the child came back, it was said that what felt like two days by the fairies seemed like two months for humans. His reappearance was deemed a miracle, and if he seemed to do his best to keep the secret, as promised to the Green Man, it still ended up being uncovered. The secret orchard had been found, and with it the especially precious apples from the twin apple trees. Confrontations between the fairy and groups of humans became more and more frequent, to the point even her found herself at a loss. The violation of the old agreement wasn’t the only thing that outraged the Green Man that fateful day when he cursed humans. Similarly, the newfound humility demonstrated by the humans wasn’t the only thing that had put an end to the curse. While commonly forgotten, the intercession of dragon fairies, fierce but wise, had contributed to the end of the deadly feud and a return of the balance between the worlds of Men and Fairies. This point in particular was the reason why, when the Draconia household started ruling what became known as the Valley of Thorns, a family of woodland fairies with a foliate face representing the Green Man as coat-of-arms was prompt to bend the knee and serve both as vassals and old friends.

That was the weight behind the name Bosconero.

----------

The shuttle was going through the threads at a quick pace, colour after colour, as Neve started humming in rhythm with her hands.

This story was only the beginning.

----------

Over centuries, the Bosconero Estate had grown. Born as an ancient place of worship, it became a place of habitation as well for the noble House, all nestled that it was between dense dark woods and steep cliffs. As time passed, walls were built – first to add further protection to the clearing, then for actual buildings. Lobed arches decorated with ceramics and delicately twisted columns, aging walls covered in ferns, ivy, jasmine and wisteria, an ornate wishing well in the middle of a cloister-like space, an open crypt and a large belvedere dominating the valley – and then there were the gardens and the greenhouse. A wonder in themselves, they held all sorts of plants, both native and exotic, both magical and purely decorative, a complete botanical garden organised like an ornamental garden, with plays on twists and turns, lights and shadows, organic from the plants and mineral from the various statues scattered everywhere. And in the middle of it all stood its crown jewel, the precious orchard with, at its centre, the twin apple trees of gold and silver, a nearby healing pool reflecting their light as if it was challenging the often gloomy skies of the entire Valley.

Neve knew all of its nooks and crannies, ornate tile floors, arched painted ceilings without a single sharp angle, white walls decorated with plants, tapestries and paintings... The main corridor was remarkable for its numerous family portraits, and Neve had taken the habit of observing each of them every time she passed through the corridor. The family had a peculiar tradition of accepting people in, rather than marrying outside, and of having an inclination towards a matrilineal order. Ink black hair would produce ink black hair, no matter the appearance of the one who gained the name Bosconero. Cat-like eyes would mostly be moss green and liquid blue as well. Mostly. This was when a break could be seen, with the occasional golden amber erratically cutting through time, a constant reminder of the founder of the family. It made itself known with her generation as well – the recent family portrait in the entrance showing a tall, masculine figure with rich auburn hair and bright blue eyes, a smaller feminine one with black hair and forest eyes, and then two even smaller figures that could have been a mirror of each other had it not been for these golden amber eyes. For the Old Blood running stronger in one of them.

A thought would often occur to her, the idea that maybe these ghosts from the past would leave their portraits at night to haunt the estate. It wouldn’t have surprised her, considering she never failed to feel their eyes burning her back when she walked down the corridor.

----------

In the Valley, spinning the wool was an affair for women, no matter their station. It was even how Crimilde had wished for a child and ended up with twins – a rare event among fairies, which lived longer than men and didn’t need to worry as much about the number of children they would and could have.

Neve kept passing the shuttle through the threads, with a skill honed through habit, and still humming.

----------

The Bosconero family valued its traditions, most of them either remnants of ancient rituals, or rites still alive. With all the customary events that would dot the life of a fairy to the rhythm of the seasons, they added up to scream what made the family what it was. The very first ritual had been made under the light of the ever glowing twin apple trees, a custom to bind the newborns to their respective tree. In a bowl filled with water from the pond at the feet of the trees, always glowing with their reflection, engraved twigs and thorns of various trees and shrubs were mixed, secret words were spoken, and the newborn would have one of its fingers pricked with the plant decided to manifest itself. Then, an oath in blood would be made with more secret words – a life binding oath. This rite was important, as it was also an act of divination – the bound tree informing about the path of the fairy. The ritual was conducted by the head of the family, and the Lady of the Yew, Crimilde Bosconero, made no exception.

That was how Bianca and Neve had been respectively chosen by the blackthorn and the hawthorn, how they had been set on their respective path in life – one for strife, one for protection. The secret words always spoke true – or so the family said.

----------

With a quick turn of the wrist, Neve would switch threads at great speed. It wouldn’t be her most colourful piece, but she still wished for some dimension in the composition. She’d dreamt of it, and for once it wasn’t as chilling as what she’d usually see – though the topic remained rather ominous.

----------

After the first ritual of their life, they had been presented to the Draconia family – another custom to show deference to the dragon overlords, and yet the only time the twins and the barely older Young Master really ever met. After that, years of preparations started for them, with three specific purposes in mind: to reflect their peerage, to be prepared for their future life both as Ladies and Magic wielders, and to develop their mind and creativity in a manner that’d promote a suitable Unique Magic.

In practice, Neve would show a consistent dedication to her work and progress, something the hired tutors never failed to report – and something Crimilde never failed to point out in comparison to her sister’s own devotion to irregularity. Yet, it was that very sister who would push Neve to always give so much of herself in everything she set her mind to. Bianca of the Blackthorn, Bianca and her golden eyes. Neve had many memories of the little things her sister would keep doing, her general distate for order and propriety always forgiven because of seemingly bottomless well of raw magic she would wield. Alone, these memories amounted to nothing – but there laid the trick, as added to each other, they’d slowly start looming, the tall shadow of a motherly figure who oversaw everything with an iron hand, and a prodigious sister raising like a wall next to her.

As time passed, Neve started feeling the weight of the situation in the way she pushed herself only to see her dear sister somehow manage to overtake her, despite always starting one step behind. These ever loud leaps and bounds felt like an unspoken formula to push Neve in a forgotten corner. When her singing was technically flawless, Bianca’s improvisations would end up attracting more interest. When Neve was capable of identifying heraldry and persons on the spot, Bianca remained the one who would quietly decline the identity of their mother’s interlocutors during events at the Estate. When their personal maid would brush their hair, Neve’s ink black curls would be compared to Bianca’s, yet the reverse never happened. No matter how much she would give, it always seemed to Neve that she was bound to fall short as long as her oh-so-perfect sister remained by her side.

Her mind slowly became her shelter, an untouched place that belonged solely to her, where she could push the bitter poison back when she started feeling overwhelmed; a place where she felt free from her mother’s and her sister’s shadows. There, she could spend hours absorbing what she’d been learning, what she’d been experiencing, to understand how to use it to her advantage. It was around that time she picked up sewing and weaving – a simple occupation at first, that quickly turned into a mean for her to express herself and to let the building poison out, stitch after stitch.

If her more public needle work was appreciated for its refined elegance and precision, a part of it was kept secret still - the part done at night, when she was too anxious to sleep, afraid of tomorrow and even more fearful of what her own dreams would offer. During that quiet time, it felt easier for her to explore and understand her own thoughts and feelings, let them out lest she’d either take it out on her family... Or even herself – that thought always left her with a sinking feeling in her gut, the dark impression that if she fell on that path, coming back from it would be even harder, if possible at all.

And then came the teaching of magic.

----------

Neve kept weaving, letting her thoughts wander and reach times past as the haute-lisse was slowly taking shape.

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A part of their life as young fairies was focused on their magical training as well, and this is where things would turn especially sore for Neve.

Their general education, especially its artistic components, served to promote focus and creativity, both elements necessary to produce and control magic, as well as develop a Unique Magic fitting their character. Everybody had their eyes on Bianca and her golden eyes – as expected. Yet, there was already few things in which Neve felt competent, next to her sister. Sewing was one of them, though mostly because Bianca showed little interest in the exercise – she seemed to favour books, potion ingredients and music. For that reason, sewing had become Neve’s thing, a reassuring shelter when her sister took too much place. A space where she wouldn’t have to hear her whisper first all the correct information to their mother’s ear at a party, where she wouldn’t have to feel the smooth inflexions of her singing, where she wouldn’t witness her elegant spells. She was her own ruler there, and would let her inventive mind overflow to become drawings and embroideries. If Neve couldn’t get her life with the support of her family, she’d weave it herself. Yet, that protective isolation also proved a double-edged sword that prevented her from seeing the cracks forming, early onset of a larger catastrophe.

The second most important ritual among woodland fairies was tied to the discovery of their Unique Magic. Once the young fairies had been sufficiently prepared through lessons and various activities meant to help them form their own magical quality, a ceremony was to be held by their family or caretaker in order for them to fully take hold of their magical abilities. When that day arrived for Bianca and Neve, it was yet again conducted by their mother, with the help of her newly hired assistant, Erico of the Elm – their father, Sigfrido of the Willow, would be absent for work, as always. The twins had been prepared for this moment, each step of the way carefully explained to them, since they’d be the ones conducting the ritual for themselves. Crimilde and her assistant would be there as witnesses and helpers in case of trouble, although the sisters had been certified that trouble never happened, since it was all about discovering one’s Unique Magic without pushing it, only defence was allowed to deescalate the situation and protect oneself if necessary – thus Crimilde had framed the ritual as an extension of their usual defensive magic classes. Bianca and Neve both had a set of alchemy tools, as well as the ingredients required. Led in a small building on the Estate, apart from the others and strangely windowless, the only way for the young fairies to see in the individual rooms they were respectively set in was with the help of faerie fires, dim gloomy lights meant solely to allow them to make their preparation, just like they had been taught.

Focusing on her task, Neve made sure to carefully prepare the potion, which looked like some sort of thick, dark liquid – so dark it felt like it was even swallowing whatever light was coming out of the floating faerie fires. Once the preparation was ready, Neve took the large brush they had both been provided with, and started drawing the symbols she had been taught on the floor, in the correct order and with decisive strokes. Then, she placed the set of candles – a profound black just like the preparation she had painted the floor with – all around to form a circle in the middle of which she knelt. Taking a deep breath, she lit the candles with a simple gesture, and the faerie lights went off automatically as the candles and symbols on the floor started shining in a manner that made them look like liquid glass veined with pulsating blood – her blood, she thought, as she gently clutched her bandaged hand. It was her last consideration before she found herself enveloped in a thick, numbing murk she hadn’t noticed. Reflexively closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, as if she was about to dive, and lost all notion of time and space in the process.

The noise of a door slamming made her come back to her senses. Realising she was laying down, Neve sat up, and took a look around. She was in a long corridor, with a series of seven doors peppering both sides – she had never seen such a place before. Getting back on her feet, she decided to see what that corridor had to offer – it wasn’t as if she had another way to go anyway. As she walked, she inspected the seven doors from a safe distance first – they were all different in design, and all closed. Stepping forward, the young fairy felt an uncontrollable, ice-cold shiver run down her spine. The corridor stretched and stretched, yet the doors always seemed to remain at their place, as if the whole, well, place was forcing her hand. As she stopped in her track, she started considering each door more carefully, trying to pick what seemed like the safest one. However, she promptly realised that it wasn’t about seeming, but feeling right. This realisation came to her as she approached a pitch-black, perfectly smooth door, save for the ornate handle. As her fingers were about to touch it, the impression of a dreadful pull started overtaking her every thoughts, while at the same time something deep down screamed at her to get away, as far as possible from that door. However, it was only thanks to a creak coming from the opposite side, at the furthest door, that Neve managed to shake away both the pull and the dread. Her attention shifted to the noise, and it seemed to her that a shadow had just passed through the now slightly ajar rustic wooden door.

As she went through the door, she found herself in a bright clearing, covered in thick, fresh grass. Further away, she could see the clearly defined shape of a cottage-like house, and a movement at the window left from the door caught her attention. Considering her surroundings for a few seconds, she didn’t feel any sense of danger, nor any sort of inner bell ringing the alert so far. Not wanting to be a sitting duck, she quickly moved along the small path drawn amidst the thick grass and went straight for the small cottage which seemed, oddly enough, her only way out. The heavy door let out a rusty creaking noise as she pushed on it. Inside, there was only the silence of a house that felt recently abandoned. Crossing the main room quickly, Neve decided to count the number of steps required to reach the staircase –even and she’d go left on the upper floor, odd and she’d go right. Neve often practiced these little games, it had been particularly useful to overcome her worry-fueled indecision and helped strengthen her resolve. Left she went, not sure of what she’d find, yet choosing to not chase after that elusive shadow she’d seen twice already. As long as she didn’t feel threatened or enticed in any way, Neve judged it simpler to let the shadow come to her first.

The young lady didn’t expect the corridor that served as her starting point to appear again, the same doors in the same order, though adapted to fit in the cottage – fit in as much as a corridor clearly too long for the house could. This peculiar setting led her to realise a now jarring detail that she had somehow missed the first time: the corridor had no defined end. As she moved, she noticed that the doors seemed to follow her, as if they’d always trail behind, the endless extremities of the corridor extending appropriately. The door she’d first picked was now closed, and rather than checking it again, she chose to pass it and its facing door on the right hand of the corridor, to open the next one. As she walked and passed in front of the right-hand door, she could hear a faint, regular clicking noise in it. However, her decision had been made, left, always left. With resolute steps, the fairy reached the next door and went through it.

She found herself on a scene, in a large room that looked like the emptied remnants of a theatre. Strange mists and fake trees surrounded her, and as she made a move to step away, a pitch-black, elongated silhouette suddenly slid right in front of her, making her jump in fear yet reaching out to silence her scream with a hand just as dark. For some reason, that touch was enough to help Neve settle down, which allowed her to take a look at the... The thing in front of her. It looked like it had tried to take a vaguely familiar humanoid shape, yet was there without really being there. As it took a quiet step towards her – it was more sliding than walking, really -, its body and arms became disproportionately elongated, its neck following the same path as it leaned towards her. When it spoke, the words didn’t came from its faceless head, but seemed to resonate gently through her whole body, an echoing whisper that felt like smoke.

- To find the way out, never look back. Beware of the Stagman, don’t trust the Black Hands.

- Wha – What are you?

- Help.

The strange shadow wasn’t there anymore, and Neve felt dread pile up in her belly as she observed the whole room. As she was about to take a step back, unwilling to take another step forward, the words the shadow had spoken rang in her mind. Realising she had no choice but go forth, she took a large gulp of air and swallowed her apprehension before going down the scene. To help gain some focus back, she reminded herself of the rule she had established – always left. And always up as well, she realised as she was off the scene. For some reason, the simple action of going down made her skin crawl. She hurriedly crossed the vast space meant to hold seats, towards the only way out.

From that point, it felt like a winding maze of strange corridors devoid of doors and windows and yet dimly lit. Neve kept walking, always forward, always left, always up. Nothing special ever happened, and her initial wariness insidiously turned to a disquieting boredom from the repetitiveness and gradual loss of her ability to guess space and time. That is, until she found herself in a new room, just as bleak as everything she’d previously seen.

There stood a masculine silhouette, all strength and bare feet and torso, with a hart for a head and dark blood slowly dripping from his shoulders – right where the stained, mated fur would be replaced by humanoid skin. The drops ran to his hips, where a long knife and a full quiver assorted to his hunting bow rested. Neve knew then what the strange shadow meant by Stagman. Both of them stayed still, held breath making the tension raise in the windowless room. There was no way out aside from the corridors on each side of the Stagman. Neve risked a small step forward, and he slowly reached to his quiver in return, taking a silent gliding step as well. Startled by the unexpected move, Neve stepped back and made the mistake to check behind her by reflex. No way out. The corridor by which she’d come had simply disappeared, replaced by a bit of wall similar to the rest of the room. Her attention came back to the Stagman, just in time to see him pull an arrow and nock it. The cold impression of a smile she couldn’t see yet knew was there, the smile of a creature ready to eat her up alive, pushed her out of her shock. Urgency of survival kicked in and she went for the closest corridor, using her small size and light weight to move as fast as she could. An arrow flew right past her, making her pick even more pace – as much as she could to escape. Behind her, heavy steps could be heard as the Stagman went after her.

Neve ran, her vision narrowing only to see forward, her train of thought locked in a loop as she fled across the windowless rooms and corridors. All she wanted was a door – and a door kept appearing, but not the one she wished for. It was the black door she’d passed from the start, the locked one that had left her with a bad feeling. Now, every time she passed it, it seemed slightly more ajar and she ignored it to save herself – until it wasn’t possible anymore. There it was, fully open and in a dead end. With nowhere left to run and the only option being forward, Neve gritted her teeth and jumped in the room. The door shut behind her and loud bangs resonated through the large room as the Stagman was slamming against it.

The new room was completely silent, a wide empty space with a ceiling so high it would be lost in the dark, and balconies that indicated the presence of floors yet had no stairs to access them. In fact, the room was distinctly devoid of exits. Feeling trapped, Neve decided to do the only thing left and explore the area. As she moved towards the center of the room, she started hearing faint noises, whispers. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and had the impression of being surrounded. As she made her approach and reached a more central position in the room, she started feeling the floor become unequal under her feet. Looking around her, she noticed irregularities in the walls and floor – they weren’t there before. The room was breathing, thousands of breaths coming from everywhere. That is when her mind, already on edge since the encounter with the Stagman, who could still be heard banging on the door, left room solely for panic.

The room seemed to feed on her fright, as the walls and floor started taking shape, humanoid forms pushing against a skin-like texture, making it look thinner. To Neve’s horror, the misshaped hands she could almost see through had an awfully dark tint to them. Beware the Stagman, don’t trust the Black Hands. The shadow’s warning came back to her, yet she had no way out and the cold realisation that she’d been trapped on purpose only resulted in dread weighting in her stomach. She tried to move away from the centre of the room, away from the evermore grasping hands, pushing on the surface like it was nothing. Something clasped around her ankle and started pulling with a strength her small body couldn’t fight against. Her voice, held tight by fear until then, sprung in action only to allow her a wail of terror as more hands started grabbing her.

Suddenly, a loud noise like a crack, different from the banging of the Stagman on the door, resonated throughout the room – no, the entire space, as if something from the outside was forcing its way in. The walls started crumbling and a vault made of stars fell over her, as she started feeling something warm all around her. A gentle embrace, holding her and rocking her as she heard the echo of her own scream in the room she’d been using for the ritual. Despite her desperate attempt to flee, Erico kept her close, using his own Unique Magic, Heart to Heart, to soothe her. Slowly, she calmed down and settled for loud sobs as the assistant’s magic left her mildly sedated. Once she was deemed safe to handle, he took her in his arms and brought her out, all the while apologising with a quivering voice.

- I’m sorry, Neve. So sorry. We should have suspected something like that would happen... No, don’t look there, look at me, it’s alright now.

Neve only caught a glimpse of it before Erico put her head back against him and took her away, but what little she saw was a partially destroyed building, her sister pale as death in a shining cage of glass and blood, blood everywhere.

The event of the ritual meant to help them produce a first shaped Unique Magic had ended terribly for both sisters. Bianca spent three hundred days in a deep slumber forcefully pushed on her by Crimilde, at first to stop the rampage she’d been causing, then to allow her to heal. Lady Bosconero did her best to focus on healing her wounds in a manner that would leave as little scars as possible – thankfully, Bianca seemed to have protected her face during the event, and thus it remained untouched. Meanwhile, Neve developed a fear of being touched, as well as darkness. Dismay regarding her sister also started being noticed once she’d been explained what had unfolded that day. It seemed that the Old Blood, The Gift, had made itself known at the same time as Bianca’s Unique Magic, mixing with it to turn the creatures she’d seemingly summoned into destructive abominations. Even worst, it had started sipping everywhere – even reaching out for Neve while she was exploring her own Unique Magic, poisoning the experience well enough to turn it into a living nightmare for the young fairy.

Once Bianca woke up in complete confusion from her magic-induced sleep, however, the family dynamics started shifting for a new balance.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #oc #neve bosconero #fairy tale #fairy tale rewriting #rewriting #snow white #sleeping beauty

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

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Before Dawn: Bonus Chapter (1)

Helloooooo, alright listen, I re read a choice with no regrets and uhm here is this, a little insight on what has happened a little while before our story began, I'm sure you'll want to see some nice bonding with Isabel

Warnings: just a few teeny little mentions of intercourse

@hidehaskak of course here's your tag❤️

Turtleneck

"Yehawhaww" The moment you appeared at the entrance to the roof Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs in great enthusiasm. You stood silent after you spared her a smuggling nod pacing your eyes between the two men that accompanied her, awaiting for a signal of approval. "I knew I could get you to come! You guys don't mind her hanging out with us right? She's a friend."

At that sound the males finally gave in, letting Isabel close the distance between the both of you. Her significantly smaller arms wrapped around your frame in a pure hearted childish manner and seeing that you towered over her you placed your hands on the small of her back, almost too reassuringly to the males' liking. Their unforgiving gazes burned holes in your whole body with much rage built in for ruining their fun for the night.

You knew you were practically unwanted, but it was for Isabel that you stepped foot on this rooftop to begin with. Tired of her never ending pleas to join her and her so called bros as they looked at the stars and talked about everything and anything you had decided to violate curfew and join her, not them, just her, because you wanted to share some more moments with her. This young little redhead was growing on you in the best way possible, you thought she kind of reminded you of yourself in times where you needed salvage or just a friend with whom you could share your piece of mind and heart.

She wasn't like that at first. Isabel probably resembled a rose, it occurred to you, with her godly youthful looks and her thorn like personality. It was a result from growing up in a trashhole like the underground, among thugs, being forced to build a rough personality if she wanted to survive, it was merciless for her and any other girl down there. But the bubbly side of her personality assured you she was much more than a badass teen who could hand you your ass in any fight, she had a pure heart and you longed to help her feel like she deserved post childhood experiences. But for now, it felt as if your roles had reversed. Sure, you were -if not just as her- bubbly and kind but sometimes you were frustratingly unresponsive and ill faced that it worried her until she got to know you. You hadn't put yourself in a place to talk about you trauma to her; she had her own demons and there was no point in burdening her with your abusive background, but you managed to explain to her that most of your weird and uptight behaviors, most things you could dispose of to become a better person, were curved into you in ways you could share yet. And Isabel, as respectful as ever had assured you it was fine not to be able to share.

Most girls would shut her out due to her formal nature as a thug, much like your friends who at first were adamant about discouraging you to befriend her. They had assumed she wouldn't be able to be nice and kind or to talk like them, but you were against any pretentious act behind her back. Maybe it was due to egoistical motives that you wanted to salvage this little girl, because she reminded her of you, and Nanaba, the only person who fully knew about your situation was taking a stand against this at first. She didn't want you to hurt yourself or the redhead in the process of trying to project your condition on her. But you didn't give up. With Isabel as your new bunkmate you had many chances of getting it right.

"Did you bring what I asked you to?" Isabel hurriedly asked, reaching her hands to make a quest inside the tote bag that you carried. You showed no sign of holding back as you let her peak into the cream colored bind, but only managed to cover your ear as her squeks got louder. "Thank you thank you thank you! Sit down, show me!

Isabel shooed Levi and Furlan apart, placing herself right next to the blond man while tapping her hand on her left side. You followed her smile hesitantly and proceeded to sit down to where her hand was rested a few seconds ago, next to Levi. You felt his eyes ravaging your whole form, up and down as if you were some dirty pig that seeked to rub its mud onto him. When seated neatly enough as to not touch him you proceeded to pry open your tote bag and toss a share of it insides to Isabel.

With a determined face she got a strong hold of the grey colored yarn and the pair of slightly thick needles you had managed to recover for her. "Okay show me, show me!"

"Oh what's that?" Furlan peeked his head over Isabel's shoulder to inspect of the situation.

"It's yarn and needles."

"Ahh, Furlan don't interrupt, (y/n) show me how to cast on!"

"See that's the easiest part, sweetheart." You watched Isabel coo at the support in your tone while she puckered her lips to a cute kid like pout. She followed your slow movements as if you were a goddess, showing her how to create new wolds with her strained hands.

Levi, even though he was suspicious of you, a member of Erwin's team who tried to coax her way into Isabel's life, felt somehow relieved to see that beloved expression on Isabel's face. He had overheard her once, taking to her self in the mirror, wishing she had a lady friend to spend time with and it pained him that she had a feeling of such lack inside her. Therefore your presence was a little soothing in their company. He would be lying if he said he personally didn't like it. After all he had thought you were a beautiful company to Erwin in one of the many times he had come across him in the Underground, silently watching him from the shadows. Not that he was a creep to begin with, it was just his lack and a response to the question of whether you can ever see a stranger twice, that you were actually a scout.

"Where did you learn to do this (y/n?)" Furlan was set to break off Levi's thoughts for one too many times tonight.

"Old mothers are adamant about these things, you know, good girl stuff and all."

"Oh." He began with a flirtatious tone that made both Levi and Isabel turn to him wide eyed "Good girl huh? Every Bad boys dream, including min- ah shit Isabel, ouch!"

The squint in Isabel's eyes was something that you couldn't see and you even ignored it as a matter of fact. Isabel was aware of your teeny crush on Levi, she had gotten it out of you one day during training after she had caught you gawking and drooling at him for doing the bare minimum. It was simply natural for her to get overly excited at the fact. Ever since then she had been convinced that him and you would be a perfect match, that you wouldn't have to be so uptight with him after all but you would always brush her off. It didn't torment you just get, even if his cold gaze somehow tickled your heart at certain times you were perfectly fine with hanging out around him. But there was no point in trying to convince Isabel to give up, not when she practically lived off of you and the male duo. Perhaps that was why she had squinted her eyes so hard at Farlan, she didn't want the couple in her head to be broken apart before it even started.

For the rest of your time with them you barely speak. You were fine with standing there and knitting away your project, a grey ribbed sweater that you had accidentally managed to make huge up to a certain point when you didn't find a purpose in casting off and undoing. You wondered if Isabel really wanted to knit or if it was her excuse to have you hang out with the ravenette since she had seemed to long forget about her needles and was fixated on a bottle of booze, talking away about some merchants in the underground flee market. You figured you should take your leave being to alienated to break their usual trio, you couldn't even keep up with their conversations, not that they cared to include you.

"So if you're all about playing housewife what are you doing here?" Farlan's voice calls out to you almost strained from any actual purpose, he probably knew it was kind of rude on the part to not include you after Isabel had invited you.

You remained silent for a few moments, tilting your head back to stare at the jewel decorated dark sky. Finding the right words for your purpose seemed unbelievably difficult and suffocating but it perhaps was nothing compared to their previous lifestyle.

"I didn't want to die." Two of the three almost fall to instant, bubbling laughter the moment your thoughts longer in the air as actual words.

"And you came here out of all places?" Levi sternly inquired without ever initiating some sort of eye contact.

"I wasn't top of my class, but even if I was I wouldn't go in the MP. I don't want to live a full life as a bastard you know and Garrison, let's say I have my reasons as to not going there."

Something about that bastard themed sentence caused curiosity to twitch inside Levi's chest but he didn't quest on it, oversharing wasn't in his plans to do so with a practical stranger, even if deep down you didn't exactly feel like one. He couldn't be explain that feeling but he could certainly understand what it was that made Isabel so attached to you. Something about your aura was like fresh, dripping honey, unprocessed yet sweet and endearing and overpoweringly strong to the flavor.

"You're not a bastard you had parents right? You just talked about your old mother."

Conveniently, Farlan's words allowed you to shut up and look away, further away from the former thug trio and into the vast horizon that laid before you. You contemplated what was it that enamored everyone outside the walls. With all that death, the scouts corpses that rot every where, you didn't have anything against the walls or life inside, taking down Titans and following orders was therapeutic enough to you as long as you came back to an eventual cup of milk tea and your knitting and embroidering projects. You couldn't bring yourself to give a damn about your future, but you liked fighting for the future of others, maybe somewhere there was a child, just like you, who wanted to get away from an abusive household and start a new life or pick up on experiences they had never lived. These people deserved not to feel caged inside the walls and plus, the nature of the Titans was very much appealing to you due to Erwin and his constant pep talks.

"Wait so how did you end up in Erwin's squad if you're mediocre?" Farlan pushed again, not wanting to let you stay silent for what's worth it.

"Don't forget I'm a veteran. I've outpassed the years a scout is expected to live so Erwin decided to move me to his squad, Mike insisted since we were from the same district."

"Oh so you fucked your way up huh?"

With the corner of his eye Levi watched as your eyes widened in shock. He couldn't possible know about your past, but you didn't seem the tyoe to go around and fuck your superiors so you could earn a higher rank. You were too ignorant to anything, it was prominent that you didn't care about even receiving your own room for serving well all these years.

"How dare you! As if it's something to open your legs for!" There it was, sweet confirmation that you indeed were ignorant.

"Good girl and all huh?"

"Sure."

There was something tense in the air as Farlan flirted, the subtle roll in your eyes, the unusual monotony of Isabel's voice, even Levi has seemed to bring his shoulders towards his collarbones in any attempt to distance his mind off of the unrequited nature of scenery. You weren't flirting back, momentarily he wondered if you even knew how since the sheer blush on your face betrayed your otherwise distinctive spitfire. You acted more childish than Isabel, in a way that you probably didn't realise caught Levi's attention because he didn't mind to spare you a glare, he'd rather keep it to himself.

____

Next time, it was supposed to be Farlan who approached to help you get your foot out of the muddy hole it was stuck to, Isabel squealed profanities at him, but it was Levi who had managed to push past him and the redhead, exposing his self to the cold pouring rain to run towards you. Just how stupid of your team was to leave you in the pouring rain to make your foot in your own?

His mind was at gaze as he sprint, random thoughts filling empty apathetic species that begged for overthinking to take over them. He knew Farlan didn't really like you, he was just trying to such to their plan and keeping you close was in sole purpose of getting closer to Erwin but for Isabel is want like that. She really liked your company, even he enjoyed some of your company at times and they weren't taking any chances with using you.

Moreover and much to his despise, he found himself in a very murky situation with each extension of his foot to your location. Fuck did you really have to look like that? With one leg stretched, toned bottom swaying in the air, strong veiny hands gripping on your knee, mud on the tips of your fingers and hair wet, making wild moves as you flipped your head upwards to get it out of your face. He twitched at the way a small tress stuck to your chapped lips, almost as if you were a goddess of water, a Nereid, as if you were made to be in this drenched state. Small droplets traveled from your chin down your exposed neck, hiding inside the base of your soft grey turtleneck, it was indeed a magnetising scenery, an alluring unraveling play to his eyes but he dared to rip his eyes away. He wondered if anyone could perceive this scene the way that only he did.

"Tch, try not to get that filth on me." He spoke as his sleek palms wrapped around your torso in delicate force, fitting almost perfectly. He closed his eyes. What the fuck was he even thinking? He wasn't even going to stay here for long.

"Wouldn't dream of it, but I beg of you to help before I get sick"

From a distance Isabel watched with teary eyes. A soft feeling of happiness engulfed her whole, not letting her give some form of attention to Farlan who clicked his tongue.

"Whatever Farlan, Levi is finally going to get some action for once. It's not like it's interfering with our mission!" Her brows forrowed at his sight. "He likes her, can't you see?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that if you don't actually tell him"

Her eyes harded at what Farlan had said. Of course, she knew Levi would deny ever laying his eyes on anyone but she wanted to be there to watch him experience falling in love, hell even falling out of it. Farlan should plainly accept that Levi is not always going to be hang up from their group. Sticking together even after their time at the military was a given, but wanting to have lovers and relationships now that they could enjoy their lives? Isabel was eagerly excited for it.

She watched you and Levi as you freed your leg from the muddy puddle, flying over by the force you had both been laboring and falling on too of each other, Levi's face was contorted in anger, fumingly red as he tried not to tell at you and she was definite about his feelings towards you.

Outside and laid with his back in the mud, Levi felt startled in a way he hadn't experienced before. He could faintly feel the tips of your breasts on his chest and he guessed you were using cloth binds since the impact wasn't enough to get him beyond a little flustered, but he could admit that this was embarrassing. He was angry, for being muddy that is, god knows just how much he despised mud and the smell of filthy rain but there was something about the way you straddled him and it touched a little flicker inside of him that told him it was alright to be muddy for a few more seconds, as long as he was underneath you. Despite his lack of experience in romantic or tense moments, he only had had sex a few times that he could count on one hand and he had despised each one for being disgustingly filthy, he definitely could sense the electric field in the air around you.

But as soon as the moment occured and you took your glistering eyes off of his, you pushed strength into your arms, digging your palms in the dirt to lift your self up and he was once again his normal self. With a click if his tongue he slipped from underneath you, denying your open hand that seeked to offer him a little help. He wasn't here for a sappy little romantic adventure, he was here to find those documents and kill Erwin, you were merely getting in the way of his brain functioning properly.

#aot #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #attack on titan #captain levi #levi imagine #levi fanfiction #levi x y/n

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cuttingthe-painter · 4 years

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Taron - Fae Boyfriend

Oooh, what about a human in a library researching the fae in Ireland. A friend went missing. Everyone thinks they ran away, but you found things that lead you to believe the fae have them. Now you're trying to find a way in and all the ways to bargain, fight, or trick them into giving them back. The fae admires your determination.

Thank you @saviorsong for the prompt!

***feel free to reblog***

Taron - Fae Boyfriend (sfw)

male fae x human reader

word count: 1775

Your eyes could not focus; the words on the page seem to scramble together more and more the longer you stare. You close your eyes, scrub your hands across them, and let out an irritated groan. The hours and days spent in the library seem to finally be catching up with you. All the books seem to say the same things: don’t tell the fae your name, don’t be rude to them, pay your respects, be careful with your words. What the books don’t tell you is how to get back your friend that the fae stole.

Of course, no one believed you when you claimed the fae stole Ayda; they all brushed off your claims saying ‘Ayda’s always been a wandering soul, she probably ran off on another one of her adventures.’ You listened to them and waited; Ayda was prone to taking spur of the moment trips and always came back a week or two later. But she always told you when she was going on an ‘adventure’ and after two weeks passed, you knew something was wrong.

You went to her house, letting yourself in with the key she gave you, and searched for any clues pointing you to where she went. All of her things were in their normal spots, as if she never left. Her keys hung by the door next to her coat and her purse sat on the kitchen counter. What you found in her office led you to these endless days in the library. On her desk sat a stack of papers; she had printed pages upon pages listing etiquette for interacting with the fae, where to find fairy rings, what happens if you enter a fairy ring. At the bottom of the stack was a map of the local woods covered with thick black X’s and a single black circle.

You had followed the map and went to the circle in the woods, knowing what you would find. A fairy ring sat right where the map said it would and you felt your heart sink. Sticking out of the grass outside of the ring was Ayda’s phone, covered in the morning’s dew. It was dead when you grabbed it, and even after you charged it for days, the screen stayed black. You knew it was a reach; the idea of fae stealing Ayda was outrageous, but all signs pointed to that being the case. So, you were going to get her back…you just needed to figure out how.

You’ve been coming to the library every day since, absorbing every single book on the fae that you can find, and you’ve hit a wall. Nothing seems to be working. You’ve gone to the ring every night, leaving behind shiny things, sweets you’ve made, and copious amounts of honey, yet nothing happens. You let your head fall from your hands and thud onto cold wood of the table. You know you can’t give up on her and you never would, but god are you tired.

“Well don’t give up now,” a velvet brogue taunts, “you’ve been working so hard.” Your head snaps up from the table, meeting two glimmering orbs of silver. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen sits across from you, one arm lazily resting on the table and the other propping his head up.

Silver hair cascades over his mahogany skin, plaits woven with blue yarn scattered amongst the waves. The blue ornate clothes he wears, lined with gold, highlight the haughty air he exudes. He’s absolutely otherworldly. This realization tightens your throat, fear and victory battling to respond, clawing their way out of you. The man notes your silence, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow in question. His silver eyes shimmer, rainbows dancing in molten silver, and your breath catches.

“Who are you?” you ask, attempting to keep the nervous tremor out of your voice. Despite your efforts, he catches the slight shake and a slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. Bright white teeth greet you, their sharp points confirming your suspicions of who- no, what- he is.

“Now, now,” he tsks with a slow, disapproving shake of his head, “you should know better than to ask something like that, especially with all this research you’ve been doing. I’ve loved all your gifts, by the way.” His eyes bore into you, hot and knowing and wild; you squirm under his gaze, feeling your neck and face flush.

“My…apologies.” You speak slowly, mulling over your choice of words. The books all told you how tricky the fae can be, how an unthoughtful sentence could lead to a multitude of troubles. He chuckles at your words, moving to lean forward and rest both forearms on the table.

“You’re so nervous,” he murmurs in a chiding tone. You watch him, unsure how to respond, and he tuts his tongue at you again. “So completely different now than you usually are. Why is that?”

“I- uh- I’m not-“ you cut yourself off, embarrassed by your unusual stutter. You face grows hotter and you attempt to swallow down the painful lump in your throat. His nose crinkles at you in frustration and he waits for you to continue. You shrug your shoulders at him and slump into yourself.

His lofty demeanor hardens, the air around you both growing thick and serious. “You obviously wanted me for something. Speak up, tell me what it is.”

“My friend went missing,” you blurt, nervously balling your hands into fists on your lap.

“Your friend went missing,” he echoes, raising that silver eyebrow into another imperious arch.

“Yes,” you breathe, cringing at the slight hiss that escapes. One of the main rules for talking to the fae is to be polite and you’re already fucking it up. Maybe it would be easier if the fae weren’t so incredibly insufferable. “I fail to see how that has anything to do with me.” He sits back lazily in his chair, pretending to clean under his nails. Anger burns at your ears and you start count your breaths to calm down. After a long moment of silence, you look back to the fae, plastering a cheery smile on your face. “I have reason to believe she disappeared in a fairy ring,” you explain with false blithe. His eyes move from his fingers, languidly trailing up your still form. Calculating eyes meet yours and you push away the anxiety creeping in. “And I want to bring her back. People miss her.” You leave out the fact that you’re the only one who has actually realized she was missing and not just on a trip.

“How interesting,” he muses loftily, “and I suppose you want me to bring her back. Is that why you left me all those gifts?”

“The gifts were merely a friendly gesture.”

“You are most kind,” he offers, watching you expectantly.

“I’ve read that fae will sometimes… strike a deal,” you say with hesitant determination. His face instantly lights up, a joyous smile barely hiding the mischief swimming in his eyes.

“A deal,” he repeats with burgeoning excitement. “Human’s rarely attempt to make deals these days.” He stands and moves around the library table. Your stomach twists with a mix of fear and excitement as you watch him; he’s a tiger and you’re his prey. You should leave, run and never look back. Nothing good will come of this, his face tells you that much, but you need Ayda home safely.

“I’ll tell you what, little human,” he purrs, leaning against the table, his thigh hot again your arm. “I will bring your friend back, but I want you in return.”

“What?” you gasp, sliding your chair back away from him.

“I want you. A companion. A partner. A mate. Whatever you choose to call it.” He steps forward, a hand brushing through your hair as he walks around you. Could you do it? Could you sacrifice your life here to give Ayda back hers? Could you live with this strange, arrogant man? Does he want you to love him? Thought after though races through your mind, overwhelming you. Your palms start to sweat and you rub them on your jeans. “You want your friend home so desperately. You’ve been so fiercely loyal, yet now you hesitate.”

“What’s the catch? Detail it all out for me, no tricks.” His hands move to rest on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing mindless circle.

“There’s no catch, my dove. You will give up your life here and move with me to my world. You will become my companion indefinitely and your dear friend will return back to her life.”

“Why would you want a human mate?” you pry in an attempt to find a hole in his deal.

“Fae become such boring company, but mortals are always so…human. It’s quite refreshing.”

“And what if I can’t love you? Will you still expect all the…partner perks from me?” You trip over the words, rushing the question off your tongue. You feel your face heat again and his fingers caress your cheek, savoring the warm flesh. His touch is light, but purposeful, and you find yourself enjoying it. The way he speaks to you is exasperating, so uppish and condescending, but his touch is gentle and tender and you lean into it, never wanting it to end.

“This right here tells me there is at least a chance. I have no intentions to force myself on you, my dove, that’s not fun for either of us. But I think you’ll find that you’re able to love me,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across your face. Your eyes flutter shut as his scent cocoons you. You breathe in deep, savoring his essence of freshly fallen rain and spring flowers. You can do this for Ayda.

“Will I ever be able to see her again?” you ask sadly.

“No,” he answers simply.

“Will she return safe and happy?”

“She’ll never know another sad day.”

“Then it’s a deal,” you murmur with a gentle sigh. You turn your head, looking up to him curiously. “But if we’re going to be companions, shouldn’t I know what to call you?” He laughs lightly and brushes your hair away from your face.

“You can call me whatever you like,” he states, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But most call me Taron.”

“Taron,” you repeat, attempting to mimic the way he rolled the r and butchering it.

“Good thing you’re going to have a lot of time to work on that,” he taunts before running a hand over your eyes, coloring the world white, and whisking you away to your new life.

~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog, and let me know what you think!

-painter

#fae boyfriend #fae x reader #fae boyfriend x reader #male fae x human reader #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster lover #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend x reader #reader insert #exophili #exophilia #exophile #my fic #my writing #prompt request

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hazelandglasz · 3 years

Text

Tin-Tanium, A Klaine Advent Calendar

Hi! Yeah, I decided to write all of the Klaine Advent prompts in one story going back the steps of a ten-year anniversary.

Merry Christmas, happy holidays everybody, and I hope you’ll enjoy this compilation!!

Abashed

Over ten years, there are many opportunities for a couple to embarrass themselves.

Kurt has plenty of memories that fit in that category, Blaine too.

Blaine and Kurt together, too.

Whether it’s from their early days (Kurt still can’t believe he used an entire notebook sketching their hyphenated names around hearts) or from the most recent years (Blaine prefers to hide his face in his hands rather than face the recollection of “Glitter Vampire”, no matter how many times Eliott tells him that it’s still a fan favorite), they have managed to feel abashed more often than not.

It’s not like they mind, though.

Being abashed only lasts a moment--the memory, the joy of it, that lasts forever.

Brake

Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it.

So, sometimes, even though neither of them wants to slow down, one of them has to pull the brakes.

Oh, it’s not always when they are tearing each other’s clothes apart, get your mind out of the gutter.

(... they do have to slow down their loving romps sometimes, but it’s rarely because they want to and more because of coitus interruptus.)

They learned how to brake to keep their paths aligned; slowing down in their own rush to get all they want out of life in order to get there together.

And winning the race of life together is the only win Kurt and Blaine are interested in.

Careless

Kurt listened attentively, when his father told him to always be careful about his husband’s needs.

Blaine listened too, when Burt told him that though Kurt doesn’t always say it aloud, he has a way of communicating his emotions that Blaine has to “listen” for.

They do care for each other, throughout the years.

But.

But as careful as they are, or try to be, they can also behave in a careless way.

Though they always try their best, neither Kurt nor Blaine can avoid letting their worst lashing out.

Eventually, though, they learn the real lesson behind Burt’s words:

It’s not about never hurting each other--it’s about being able to heal from that hurt together, to talk about it and grow from it, together.

Dispensable

Every Spring, Blaine has the same problem.

Well it’s a problem for Kurt, anyway.

The moment the weather turns for the slightly better, Blaine turns himself into a white tornado, cleaning the apartment from floor to ceiling.

And, without fail, he always tries to hunt for the Dispensables.

“Why, pray tell, is this pile entirely composed of things from *my* side of the closet?”

“Because *you* have almost everything in duplicates.”

“They are collectors! If I ever use them or damage them, I will have a replacement.”

“They are taking too much room!”

“Not as much as your collection of cameras!”

“How dare you.”

Blaine pauses, holding a scarf in one hand and an empty cardbox in the other, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Maybe I overdid my impression of Marie Kondo.”

“And maybe I do have a hoarding problem.”

“Maybe we could do that sorting together.”

“Maybe we could find something else to do with all that free time.”

Blaine drops the box on the floor and carefully folds the scarf on the back of the couch.

“I like the way you think.”

“You even put a ring on it.”

Event

One lesson the Hummel-Anderson household always applies: make an event out of every possible situation.

During the first years, it does make sense. They celebrate their successes, their achievements, as one does.

Then, it grows into something almost like a private joke between them: every little source of happiness becomes the reason for a party, a true event, even if it’s just opening a bottle of champagne while they sit on the floor, munching on a bag of chips, just because there is a Golden Girls marathon.

Because when you find things to celebrate with the person you love most, the sad things are just a little bit less sad.

Farm

Blaine wakes up in a jolt, something pulling at his unconscious mind to pull him from his dream.

Maybe it’s the cold spot in the bed next to him, or maybe it’s the grumbling sound coming from the living room.

“Kurt?”

“...”

“Kurt what are you doing?”

“Nothing?”

Blaine comes closer, and Kurt is sitting on the couch with his laptop on his bare knees.

“Are you watching porn? ‘Cause you know you wouldn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Not porn.”

“Okay?”

Kurt closes his eyes before looking away, turning the laptop’s screen toward Blaine. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I--oh.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“I know.”

“Farming Simulator 2010, that’s …”

“I know.

“... vintage, is what I was going to say. Any particular reason you needed to play that game at 2.14 AM?”

Kurt sighs, leaning his head into Blaine’s torso, now that Blaine stands closer. “It relaxes me.”

“Okay.”

“And I have been very tense.”

“Don’t need to tell me.”

“I know; so I wanted to unwind on my own to be a better husband.”

Blaine bends over to press a kiss to the top of Kurt’s head. “Farm away, darling.”

Grey

TW: anxiety

Most of the time, with the help of his therapist and different techniques he has developed over the years, Blaine can keep his anxiety at bay.

But some mornings, it’s not as easy.

Some mornings, the anxious little voice telling him he’s not worth the space he occupies is the loudest in his mind the moment he wakes up.

Some mornings, the sighting of grey skies without even a spot of blue can send him into a downward spiral he can’t seem to shake out of.

But with each passing year, Kurt becomes more attuned to the little physical signs Blaine’s anxiety lets out.

The tension in his shoulders, even as he wakes up, to which Kurt responds by closing his arms around Blaine’s upper body, forcing him to breathe with him until the tension melts away.

The way Blaine doesn’t say a word and doesn’t look directly at Kurt, to which Kurt responds by putting a cup of coffee in front of him and by kissing his temple.

Yes, Blaine’s anxiety is always around.

But with Kurt’s help, Blaine can keep it at bay.

History

Though they share a love for musicals, Kurt and Blaine don’t always have their obsessions in sync.

Unfortunately, it sometimes clashes.

Fortunately, the married couple has found a solution to keep from fighting over songs.

Medleys meet the Exquisite Corpse.

“I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me

Now it's history”, Blaine sings.

“History has its eyes on youuuu,” Kurt responds.

“You can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

See that girl

Watch that scene

Dig in the dancing queeeeeeen.”

“Hey not fair, there is no queen in Hamilton!”

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps insisting that Eliza is Queen!”

“True.”

Inconclusive

Around the seventh year mark, they wonder if they should … well, expand their couple’s horizon.

It’s a secret to none of their friends that the Anderson-Hummel have insane chemistry with one Starchild.

One evening, using the pretext of celebrating the comeback of the cronut on the foodie scene with one too many bottle of champagne, the three of them end up in bed together.

Some lubricant, condoms, giggles and panted names later, Kurt looks over the stunned figure of their friend to brush his fingers through Blaine’s sweaty curls.

“So?”

“Inconclusive.” Blaine sighs. “Yet.”

Eliot snorts between them. “Round number …?”

“Who’s counting?”

Join

A good way to keep the spark in its first meet glow is also to surprise each other.

One evening, Blaine comes home to Christmas lights suspended in the whole apartment.

“What the …”

“Welcome, sir,” Kurt says, wearing the Ringmaster’s outfit from his run as Barnum in Broadway’s Greatest Showman. “Would you join me for a very special evening?”

“I would,” Blaine says, smiling as he puts his hand in Kurt’s, and feeling his cheeks burning when Kurt brushes his lips against Blaine’s knuckles.

The evening is very special, Blaine tied to the armchair while Kurt takes off his whole outfit and feeds him bits of cheese and fruits and toasted bread.

Knit

“I’m bored.”

“I know. Why don’t you learn a craft?”

“Remember the last time I tried to learn a craft, like you put it?”

They both turn to the potter’s wheel they recycled into a coffee table. “Right. Maybe something less …”

“Space consuming?”

“Complicated.”

“What about knitting?”

“There’s an idea.”

Two days later

“Wha--”

“What?”

“Mon chéri, when we said knitting, I thought it would involve a couple of yarn balls and some needles.”

“This is yarn.”

“No, it’s not.”

Yes it is.

Learn

In a couple, some things come naturally, as easy as breathing.

Loving each other, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s knowing that whatever the storm, the tide will always bring them back together.

And some things are learned, through time and Life lessons.

What to cook as comfort food, for example.

For Kurt and Blaine, it’s finding out that they needed to be apart to be better for each other.

Some lessons are hard-learned, but eventually, they feel like they have always been known.

Meet

Dan is ready to slip under the table to take his ritual Christmas nap when Cecilia asks the question.

“How did you two meet?”

Now, all Dan can do is groan. “Nooo,” he moans, “why did you ask that?”

“Excuse you,” Kurt says, ruffling his son’s hair. “Don’t you like the way we met?”

“I heard that story at least 221 times,” he says, dropping his head to the table. “Besides, it’s just weird, when you think about it.”

Cecilia cocks one eyebrow at him. “Now you have to tell me.”

“Let me--”

Dan holds up his hand to stop his father in his tracks. “Nah, nah, nah, let me, because they will tell you that it’s so romantic, but in reality, Dad went to spy on Papa and Papa lied to Dad about a shortcut …”

Nip

“What is that thing sitting in that... thing?”

“That is a cat and she is sitting in a basket I knitted, thank you very much.”

“Since when do we have a cat?”

“Since Mrs Gimm’s had a litter and this one picked me.”

“Ah.”

“She went for me like she always knew me.”

“Aww.”

“And then she nipped my fingers.”

“That explains the band-aids.”

“Maybe.”

“So you decided to bring a feral cat into our house with a newborn because the only thing you knitted is that basket?”

“Feral, come on, maybe that’s an overkill, look how sweet she--Ouch!”

“Here, another kitten band-aid. Let me try.”

“Oh right, you’re a big beast tamer, right?”

“...”

“Is that her purring?”

“Either she’s purring or the neighbor just started a plane engine.”

“Oh yes, you’re purring, you little princess you …”

“Ahem.”

Opinion

Any couple counsellor will tell you this:

If you want a relationship to last, the most important thing to do is compromise, to make sure that both parties are happy.

Any couple will tell you this:

Some opinions are better than others. The only thing you can do, before choosing a hill to die on, is take a step back, breathe in and out a couple of times and--

“That’s so stupid it’s a wonder you can still breathe and talk at the same time!”

“I can’t believe you actually think that! What’s between your ears, lukewarm water?”

--start World War Three over the importance of the Beatles versus the Rolling Stones, I guess.

Possible

More seriously though, finding a middle ground is important, in any relationship. And the way to that middle ground can sometimes be summarized in one word.

“Possibility.”

Do you think you could agree to let me cook tonight, even though you say I burn everything?

Maybe.

May I buy regular milk instead of almond, because it gives me stomach aches?

You may.

Isn’t it your turn to change Kitty’s litter?

...Possible.

In just a few words, you can save your relationship from self-destructing, isn’t that something?

Remarkable

Over the years, through thick and thin, through storms and easy flows, the relationship formed by Kurt and Blaine only strengthens.

A fact that seems remarkable for a lot of their friends.

Their New York friends, I should say, since their Ohioan friends are not surprised to see them growing only stronger and more in love as time passes by, leaving them more united than they ever were when they were younger.

Is their relationship remarkable? Of course.

But not because they still look at each other with sparkles in their eyes, especially when they think nobody is watching.

No, it’s spectacular because it reminds everyone lucky enough to be with them that Love does exist.

Sisters

Over the years, Kurt and Blaine consider that they are the ones lucky enough to have been graced by the many women who entered their lives and remained there as chosen sisters.

Mercedes, Tina, Santana, even Rachel, of course, soul sisters who were meant to support them and challenge them to become better men.

Marley, Unique, Kitty, Jane--younger sisters who help both men to grow into mentors and future parents for Cecilia.

Lissa, Annie, Agnes--sisters of all ages who learn from them and teach them in return what they learned during their own lives until they met the couple.

Glee Club had taught them that family didn’t have to be born from blood, but life brought them a constellation of sisterhood that surrounds them and protects them, in a way, from themselves, from ever thinking they cannot get better.

Tub

“Blaine, I know that you’re really going Method for that role, but could you stop with the 1980, 1990 lingo?”

“As if!”

Kurt sighs before deciding to move on. “Do you like that ice cream? It’s from the new shop down the block.”

“It’s da bomb, hubby.”

“‘Da bomb’, really?”

Blaine has the decency to look slightly bashful. “Overdoing it?”

“Just a tad.”

“I’ll keep it to the theater, then.”

“Tubular.”

Ugly

When one uses his body as its professional tool, one is very peculiar about the way they see themselves.

And sometimes, as strong-minded the individual may be, societal expectations can become too heavy.

“Now I get it. I don’t get parts because I’m ugly.”

“Who said that?”

Kurt slams the bathroom cupboard closed, shaking his head at his own reflection. “I don’t need anyone to say it,” he seethes, “it’s obviously why none of the directors I auditioned for ever called back!”

Blaine comes to lean against the bathroom’s door frame. “Kurt …”

Kurt bends his head. “Blaine, don’t start. I know, deep down, that it’s not the reason, and that I’m not ugly. But right now,” he adds, turning his head toward Blaine without meeting his gaze, “that knowledge is buried deep, deep down.”

“Okay.” Blaine stretches close to Kurt, pecking his cheek. “Take all the time you want. But if you need my help digging for proof that you are quite the opposite of ugly, I’m right here. If you want to mull over it in silence, I can let you do it, and just stay here by your side, or walk around the block.”

“No. Stay.” Kurt finally looks up, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. “I don’t feel so bad when you’re around.”

Vanish

Sometimes, when you are a couple of married actors, you have to accept that your husband is going to get a job when you don’t.

“I got the job!”

“See, I knew you were going to get a break! Which job?”

“The ad one!”

Blaine cocks his head to the side. “Which one? The one for the hotels?”

“No, the one for the detergent. You know, the pink one?”

“Vanish?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Kurt chuckles. “I should try and remember it before the shoot!”

“I’m very proud of you,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt against him for a kiss. “Want to rehearse your text?”

“I would, if you weren’t unbuckling my be-hey!”

“Look, I can make your pants just … vanish.”

“You’re terrib--oh, wow.”

Worthless

Along the years, along the moves, along the different steps in Life, people gather things.

Not necessarily the most expensive things in the world, just mementos.

Little things, really, that most people would discard as just worthless junk.

But for Blaine, for Kurt, those little things are more precious than any of the things they bought once they started to get financially comfortable.

Like ticket stubs and Playbills from the shows they saw together.

Or like a ring made out of gum wrappers.

Yard

Speaking of financial comfort.

Once they became a household name, and once their student loans were reimbursed, both Blaine and Kurt agree.

If they are to be a family, if they are to raise a kid (or many), they need to buy a house.

It takes them a while, but they manage to save enough money to put the down payment on a cute little house in Jericho, a house with a luxurious yard where Kitty Cat can pretend to be the tiger she once was, and where their babies will be free to climb the trees and run around and drive their little bicycles or whatever.

“Quite the white picket fence, Hummel.”

“Anderson Hummel, and yes, so what.”

Santana rubs her very round belly. “Not complaining, nor criticizing. Just observing. I didn’t picture you as Wisteria Lane-adjacent.”

Kurt shrugs. “Nothing Desperate about wanting a good environment to raise a family.”

Zealous

As they reach their tenth year anniversary, Kurt and Blaine feel like they have reached a point in their relationship where their ship is sailing on its own, so to speak.

They have found their groove, they can still surprise each other while knowing each other’s habits and needs, and they have their baby.

Who cries every night.

Blaine is at his wits end looking for a solution to soothe his son’s teething pain, but nothing works.

Or so it seems.

“This here's a tale for all the fellas

Tryin' to do what those ladies tell us

Get shot down 'cause you're over zealous

Play hard to get, females get jealous …”

The sound of the song is the only sound around the house.

No cries, no whimpers.

Just Kurt, apparently “bursting a move”.

“Kurt?”

The song stops, along with one of Dan’s hiccups that announce a storm.

“Keep going, keep going!”

Kurt hesitantly returns to the song, coming into view as he bounces Dan in his arms.

“Young MC, really?”

In the same melody, Kurt replies between his teeth. “I don’t know what came over me, but I just started singing while he was crying and he sto-opped.”

“Magic.”

“Quite.”

“We need to give our thanks to Shuester, uh?”

“Over my dead body.”

#sometimes i write #klaine advent #todaydreambelievers #klaine

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timexistsnow · 3 years

Text

my baby (oh my pup)

Chapter 5: a flower (for us)

Techno and Tasha go on a walk and have a pleasant couple of days.

Techno’s hands were ruined for the time being. A while back, maybe two hours ago, he had made the wise choice to wrap them but even that hadn't saved him from a day of hoeing. This was not what he had planned to do in retirement, becoming a farmer, but then again, he never really had a plan. The whole idea was to escape L’Manburg and their governmental control, so farming was close enough.

When he wiped the sweat from his brow he hissed. Even in a biome like this, he was still getting sunburnt. Later he would have to rub some magma cream on it. Either it soothed or burned, he would find out.

Tasha was lying by the fire, leg muscles destroyed from all of the crouching. Techno grumbled, he could relate.

He helped her up, ignoring the tingling in his fingers. The bandages were useless by now and would infect his wounds if he didn’t change them. Just as he had with the potatoes, Techno switched had off of hoeing to planting, cacking his pants, hands, and fingernails in dirt. And Tasha… was not much better off.

Her already clumsy movement coupled with the unsteady ground led to many spills. She got the job done, but it wasn’t a very clean job.

Bath time.

He warmed the water in the fireplace and brought the buckets back upstairs. He needed a better system for bathing and water if this was to happen often. He did have a spare room now, the bathroom could go down by where the dining table used to reside. The purpose of the small cabin was to use every space, and the little alcove was just a place to put a tall bookshelf right now.

Techno… shelved that thought and helped Tasha into the bath. The few inches of water were already turning brown with the clumps of dirt falling from Tasha’s fur. The soap came out, lathered all over the pup. She scooped up a handful of bubbles, watched them pop, and shoved them into her mouth. “Gross.”

“No kidding,” Techno laughed. He couldn’t blame her, when he was a kid he had taken a bite out of the first bar of soap he had come across. And then the next. And the one after that. Okay, it took a while for Techno to figure out that the reason why soap tasted so bad was because it wasn't food. So what if he was dumb, sue him for being new to the world.

Techno… he needed to know, “Did you have fun?”

“Soap? No.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “The potatoes, Tasha.”

“Oh. With. You. Yes.” She averted her eyes, clapping bubbles into the air.

Techno watched the bubbles float around the room, his scrubs paused. “You don’t- We can stop next time. Tasha, you can always tell me if you get bored,” Tasha still didn’t bring her gaze back up to Techno, “I won’t get mad.”

She caught a bubble in a soapy hand and brought it to her face, blowing it off, “Together. Make. Worth. It.”

Techno- he supposed that made sense. He just didn’t think that Tasha would have the same idea. His scrubs resumed, focused on her fingers. The other hand continued to play with the bubbles.

“Missed. Together. In. Nether.”

Swallowing, he tried to say lightly: “You had a together? I… assumed your family-”

“You. Killed. Family.” She said family like it had hurt her. Hmm, maybe not the best simile.

“Oh,” he said. Was he supposed to say sorry? He wasn’t, not even a tiny bit.

In the silence, Tasha chose to barrel on, “Me. Had. Friend,” she tugged on her ears and tusks, a piglin then. “Run. Around. Ride. Hoglin.” Her hands mined two pairs of legs scampering along the lip of the bath. “Miss. Them.”

That… was not good, “Do you want to go back and visit them?” How: he wasn’t sure, but for Tasha, he’d make do.

“Dead.” One of the hands fell off of the lip and into the water, splashing around.

Oh. “What was their na- their word?” There had to be a way to save the conversation. Neither of them needed to deal with all of this angst.

“Never. Told.” The clean hand was put into her mouth but she continued to talk around it, “Scared. Them,” a hand fell into the water, “Warned. Them. In…” she waved at Techno, “Speak.”

“You said something in English. Kiddo, that wasn’t your fault.”

She protested, hand falling, getting back up, and falling again and again. “Should. Known.”

Techno grabbed both of her hands, “No, Tasha, the piglins- they don’t deserve your time. You are so different from them, so much more,” she tried to wiggle her way out, so Techno switched gears, “It was just a mindless mob. Sure, for a moment it might have felt pain but not like you did-” Techno slammed his mouth shut, Tasha clearly being able to pick up what he was referring to and flinching away. He tried for a third time, “You are better than them.”

That was enough, Techno guessed, and Tasha wiped away the stray tear that had escaped. He helped her out and dried her off with a soft blue towel. When she stood awkwardly, he patted her on the head, “Try to not let it bog you down. You don’t want things like that to ruin your fun.”

He let her walk off and refilled the bath with clean water. He always figured that Tasha would have her own trauma, but he never got around how he would fix it. His methods were proven to be… lacking, at the very least.

Spending nowhere near as long as Tasha had, Techno scrubbed himself raw. He might be a pig but he did not like being dirty. With dirt. The blood of the people who had wronged him- he might be able to compromise.

Stepping out of the lukewarm water and into the frigid room, he grabbed the other towel on the rack and dried himself off. He didn’t have any clothes so he opened the door a crack and strained his arm to grab something out of the chest of clothes next to it. It was one of his less frilly white button-downs and a pair of thick pants. Techno was always tempted to get some thigh-high leather boots to complete his outfit, but his hoofs would never allow it.

Leaving the bathroom, Techno realized that in his vanity he had caused the chest to spill out. Tasha, who was seen wiping her snout and eyes in a hurry, sat down at the foot of the mess and started sifting through it. She ended up settling on some of his spare blue wool and fabric.

“Favorite. Color?” All of it was blue, so perhaps…

“No, I like pink.” He sat with her and studied the weight and feel of it. Thankfully it wasn’t all one shade but an array of hues ranging from baby to royal blue. From wool to cotton to silk, from thick yarn to thread, he had quite the collection.

Techno chose the yarn, digging further through the pile for some needles. He had a book hidden somewhere in his library, ah, there it was. The bounty was dropped down in between the two. Tasha flipped through the pages, letting out an oink at the pictures.

She stopped at the first set of instructions and did her best to replicate the hands displayed on the pages. Techno… had no idea what the book was talking about, even as he read the captions. Sewing, he could manage. Knitting? Making something out of almost nothing? Unless it was a war effort, it was far out of his grasp.

All Techno did from there on in an attempt to help her was getting her to a page that told of a simple child’s sweater. She patted his face and set off to work.

That left him to his own devices.

The pile of blue was tempting Techno. “I never planned on getting this much stuff in the beginning,” Tasha nodded absently, “Uh, I guess my… interest in fashion started back when I began fighting.” He ran a finger over his cloak, a staple he had taken from his first win in the Area. “When I would win, I got the first pick of the losers' loot- including their clothes. It was just supposed to be a gag, something stupid I could do to make fun of them, but the pile grew and I wasn’t doing anything with it.

“Throwing it all out felt wrong, like I wasn’t winning for a reason. Eventually, I figured out that I could take the things I liked about each piece and put them together into something decent.” The cloak was a cape an opponent had dropped and the fur came from someone dressed as a sheep. Strange, but look at him now.

Tasha was trying her best to pay attention, but her pace had crawled to almost a stop, so Techno let her work in peace.

Instead, he took out the dress he had taken for Tasha and started hacking at the seams. He had learned a trick where you trace the different pieces of cloth, improve the design, and cut new ones. Techno was relieved to be getting rid of the old villager clothing, and the dress wasn’t that pretty to start with, so Techno got to have some fun.

Out came the ink and light blue cotton, Techno added a waistline and some frills to the bottom edge. A couple of times, Techno stabbed himself with the needle, but he made sure to not get any blood on the new dress.

He must have spent hours on it, because when he looked up, Tasha was done with a sleeve. There were a few stitches that looked a little wonky, but, “That looks really good!” Tasha startled and smiled back at Techno. Her smile was a little lackluster, her eyes drooping. “Come on, it’s bedtime for us.” Techno didn’t bother with staying up, his eyes were starting to itch and the strain the farming had put him through made him almost weep at the thought of staying up any longer.

When he woke, the day started just as the last had, Tasha tucked against his side.

Gathering up his gear, the flower resting on his journal wasn’t abandoned any longer, Techno couldn’t bear to let himself lose it. Into the ender chest it went, filling up the last slot.

“More?” Tasha asked upon seeing him put the dandelion away.

Techno sighed and smiled, “Sure.”

“Get. More. Today.” she decided, nodding to herself.

They did need more wool if Techno wanted to keep making clothes, so, “Whatever you say.” A walk would be a good way to spend outside time without doing labor.

He grabbed his armor after a second of thought. There was a good chance that it was unnecessary, but not a one hundred percent chance.

The food was handed out, Tasha getting the last potato in the chest. Her carrot- Techno paused: did she need gold? He wasn’t planning on taking it away from her, don’t get him wrong, but she was progressively getting more and more aggressive with her chomping as the days went on. Maybe it would be a good idea to get her something more permanent. Something she couldn’t eat.

The first option was a crown- Techno scratched that off immediately, he had earned it. Perhaps a trinket or jewelry of some kind?

As Techno helped Tasha into a clean coat over her new dress (which she liked very much) and got her down the porch steps, he kept thinking it over.

“Techno. Okay?” Tasha pulled on his cloak. She was having to rush to keep up with Techno’s pace. He slowed, allowing her to match his strides with less of hers.

He ruffled the fur on her head, “Yeah, just thinking,” at another tug: “What do you like?”

Tasha grabbed a bundle of his cloak but stopped her tugging. “Techno. Snow. Yellow… Flower?” He supplied her with dandelion and she nodded. Hmm, those were pretty generic things- the voices started screaming at him in rage, appalled at the mere suggestion. Okay! Not generic. If they made Tasha happy, that was all he needed.

Techno… wasn’t used to such simple needs. As different as Tasha was, she was still just a child.

He wasn’t exactly feeling snow or potato, which left yellow flower. Yellow: that was convenient. A little gold dandelion. It could be a pendant on a necklace or bracelet. Techno looked down at her, she was stumbling through the snow, scanning the horizon for a flower patch.

“Up you go,” he warned, scooping her into his arms. After a moment, he put her on his shoulders. Her hands tugged on his ears like they were reigns on a horse.

The needles on the spruce trees were already imposing on Techno’s personal space, so when Tasha was added to his height, she got a mouthful of pine. She sputtered and Techno chewed on his lip, he would try to avoid the overhanging branches. Mostly.

A sharp tug and Techno was about to scold her, even more so when she tugged again. “There!” Tasha squealed. Oh, she was treating him like a horse, steering him to the right. He grumbled but followed her directions.

Through the forest they went, Techno still not knowing how Tasha could see. Of course, she did have the height advantage, but she was only a block tall, if that. Even combined, they weren’t impressive.

Or, just possibly, Techno realized, it could be the fact that he broke his glasses in the process of destroying L’Manburg. Huh. That… could be it.

“Stop! No. Step. On. Dandelion.” Techno halted, seeing a patch of yellow spread out around him. Yup, it was time to fix his glasses.

Tasha shimmied down from his shoulder once Techno crouched down low enough. Nearby, a baah echoed through the forest. “Tasha, find yourself a good flower, I’m going to find the sheep. I’ll be back, I promise.” Tasha scrambled back to Techno from the flower patch. Techno smiled, “Pinky promise, no one can break those,” he held out his finger and waited for Tasha.

A piggy finger wrapped itself around his.

Tasha turned back to the flowers. Techno wandered off.

There were only three sheep when Techno found them. They were hiding around some bushy fur trees and grazing on the exposed grass protected from the wind and snow. Trying not to startle them, Techno placed his ender chest a ways away from the three and brought out his lapis lazuli and iron. A second later and he had dye and shears.

Techno didn’t want to leave Tasha for long, so he only waited around enough for the sheep's wool to grow and be sheared three times each. The blue was a little conspicuous, Techo gnawed at his lip. As long as Tasha didn’t see him killing them, he figured.

He brandished his axe, one mighty swing taking out the first. Then the second. Then-

“Techno!”

Techno abandoned the last sheep and sprinted through the forest, Tasha coming into sight around the branches and trunks. She was- not fine, but alive. “What’s wrong, Tash?” he grabbed her up. She struggled, trying to get out of his grip, “Tash!”

A hiss.

Techno twisted around, shielding Tasha with his body. He held her tight and the explosion blasted snow and pine needles onto his back. His ears rang. After a moment of piercing silence, Techno rolled to his side, still curled around Tasha.

“Came. Back,” Tasha whispered.

Techno scooped her up. It was home time, their walk was over. “The pinky promise never fails.” She stayed in his arms, Techno didn’t want to risk another creeper or an arrow from a skeleton hiding in the foliage.

She shouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Techno shouldn’t have left her, actually.

But, still, piglins were supposed to be neutral with hostile and other neutral mobs. Hoglins were an exception, but creepers? Tasha should- Tasha was different. With it being so soon after Techno had insisted it, he should have listened to his own advice. Even Tasha looked a little… skeptical when he made the claim, he supposed.

They hurried- or rather, Techno hurried- over the roots and fallen tree branches. The forest thinned and the clearing their cabin resided in stuck out over the horizon. Up the stairs, and they were safe.

Tasha’s dress had picked up a bit of snow, so Tasha batted it off before entering. Both of them wiped their hoofs off on the rug and set themselves up at the table. The flower, Techno thought she had dropped it, was set in the middle.

Techno brought down Tasha’s knitting and his notebook and ink. When he came back downstairs, Tasha greeted him with a rumbling stomach. Out came her food: two carrots, as the potatoes were still growing. Just as he had expected, she gorged herself on them.

Into his notebook, Techno went. The page titled with Tasha’s Needs was in need of some updating. Food was checked off, they had finished the farm, all they had to do was regular maintenance and weeding. Clothes for Tasha were not yet completed, but he did want to add a new idea: ,i>matching/blue for Techno. Yes, it would add extra work, but imagine the absolute adorableness… or style that would seep from their very beings. A quick gold dandelion pendant was scratched in at the bottom, almost forgotten. He ignored the rest of the list.

Across the table, Tasha was getting through the second sleeve of the sweater. Her face was screwed up, tongue sticking out and flickering around her tusks.

Techno put a hand to his own tusks, an extra set growing out of his upper jaw. They had always been a point of embarrassment for him, clearly belonging to a feral wild pig rather than the preferred barnyard pig. People always looked between him and the pigs they had in pens, comparing the two and trying to find similarities. The tusks had been a saving grace in those scenarios, functioning as a barrier from him being mocked.

The two tusks poking out of Tasha’s mouth had come from her ancestors, though piglins now used crossbows and swords instead of tusks and hoofs for fighting.

Techno shifted in his seat, running a hand over his list and the matching/blue for Techno. They weren’t that different, he supposed.

Tasha was an innocent version of Techno.

Techno would keep her that way.

#technodad au #c!techno #technoblade #timexistsnow #my writing #ao3 #dream smp #myct #my baby (oh my pup)

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