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mrskurono · 3 years

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a/n: Alright so I have baby feels (bc I’m ovulating, fucking hormones) and like all the kids I ever see are people giving the characters girls. Which, yeah its cute, but you know I want some hq headcanons with boys! So here we are me feeding myself content like a heathen :) tags: timeskip spoilers, fluff, parent!HQ characters, nothing that invovled its just kids headcanons, fem!reader involved character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq), Hanamaki Takahiro (hq), Kindaichi Yuutarou (hq), Suna Rintarou (hq)

Kageyama Tobio + Two Boys

;| You know what’s funny, these boys were both 100% planned but Kageyama is that idiot that forgets each time you end up pregnant

;| “It’s positive???” “Love, you literally circled the ovulation day on the calendar so you could tell Fukuro you’d be late.” “Oh....That’s right.”

;| They both look like Mini Tobios™

;| He’s exceptionally proud of that in fact, dresses them up in volleyball gear constantly and makes sure each kid has a volleyball

;| Closer in age than he and his sister were. The oldest is about three when the other is born

;| They’re exceptionally close simply by the fact you both do everything with them if Kageyama is working

;| But conversely when he’s not training or working this man has his kids with him everywhere

;| Schweiden group actually loves these two (and you) Romeo adores kids as does Fukuro. Toshiro and Tatsuto are like the best weird uncles they could have. Kourai is just a larger child. And Ushijima keeps crayons in his work locker for the kids (and draws with them)

;| Work takes up a lot of time but in honor of his grandfather Kageyama stresses the importance of family a lot

;| Be default his kids really get along and love each other as well as kinda being momma boys

;| But Kageyama is whipped for you anyways so it would make sense both his sons listen to mom without hesitation

;| Often mistaken for twins even though ones older

;| Avid volleyball players as they grow up but Kageyama never pressures them to be as competitive as he was, constantly reminded of how bitter it was during middle school and high school to be alone, so Kageyama prioritizes fun before anything else

;| The oldest might follow in their father’s footsteps but both of them always keep interests in other faucets of life that Kageyama appreciates because he wants to see his kids happy how they want to be happy and not just because he’s a volleyball player

Hanamaki Takahiro + Three Boys

;| “Lets have another one.” “Well, what’s one more.”

;| Basically that’s how you end up with three kids

;| Makki adores kids and honestly he’s never had an issue with them and they listen to him really well (maybe it’s the deadpan stare)

;| One boy leads to another, then two lead to three, no you were never “trying” for a girl and honestly Makki is over the moon with three boys. Having had just sisters, he thinks it’s terrific

;| They’re close in age, like, 2, almost 4 and maybe 6, you guys wasted no time and really it paid off

;| All three of them are tight knit and at some point you had to worry if they were ever gonna make friends outside themselves (don’t worry they did)

;| While you might not have ended up with three mini Makki’s, they all three have “the stare” that sometimes you get all four of them sitting together and looking at you it feels like a judgement

;| Really they’re just looking at you but it’s hard when they look so unenthused and judgey

;| Makki is super involved (whether he’s working or a stay at home parent is up to you) Regardless he puts other dad’s to shame

;| This man adores each of them in their own way and never pushes the volleyball narrative on them

;| One or two of them might but none of them really make something of it. All of them though are incredibly smart and end up being Seijoh kids

;| Uncle Mattsun is their favorite because he has gross stories to tell but Uncle Iwa is a close second because apparently it’s genetic all three boys wanna beat him in something

;| Makki’s pissed because Iwa lets all three of them out do him in whatever sport it is they like

;| Makki is still trying to arm wrestle Iwa

;| All four of you men are incredibly soft and down to earth, Makki still makes time for you even with three kids and somehow makes you feel like the sexiest person alive

;| But no, a fourth kid is 200% off the table

Kindaichi Yuutarou + Two Boys

;| After Kindaichi gets through with his apprenticeship and is working, suddenly he’s found himself as a nervous first time parent

;| Not that it wasn’t planned, you both just stopped trying to prevent it

;| The first one was hard, neither of you will lie but Kindaichi’s dedication to mastering this baby stuff really sold you on another one when he asked if you son should have a sibling

;| A little bit more of an age gap, think four when the second is born, but honestly your first is as touchy and sensitive as their father so being a big brother comes naturally

;| Out of all three of them, Kindaichi’s kids end up the perfect blend of you both. Except the hair, both boys have widows peak and dark hair there was no avoiding it I’m sorry

;| Somehow having the second one was easier. Kindaichi kept them strapped to his chest or packed them around while big brother helped and suddenly you were way more free than the first time around

;| Both boys are incredibly smart and very personable

;| You joke that at least they didn’t inherit their father’s anxiety

;| Kindaichi finds this less funny

;| Both boys though are avid learners, great at making friends and enjoy volleyball

;| Yeah they end up Seijoh kids again and they’re like class 6 and up, they’re smart its scary

;| Thankfully as adults Kindaichi’s been able to reconnect with or stay connected with everyone so the boys have a huge support net

;| Uncle Kunimi swears up and down he doesn’t like kids, but somehow knows these boys so well that their birthday and Christmas presents are amazingly thoughtful.

;| The oldest actually ends up playing more professional volleyball while the other one either dips into another sport or works in the healthcare field

;| They’re both huge momma’s boy’s though and do not be surprised that they still ask for your advice and approval no matter how old they get

Suna Rintarou + One Boy

;| This little shit looks exactly like their father

;| Middle part, black hair, unenthused look, what the hell was the point of carrying him for ten months for him to look exactly like Suna

;| Who obviously thinks its the best thing on earth and gloats about his Mini Me more than he will admit

;| Suna excels in the weirdest parenting aspects

;| Physical touch and comfort? Amazing, can get his son to stop crying instantly. Remembering to do things like point at colors and say the names? Kinda forgets that

;| Another one who packs his kid around but opts for a carrier so his hands are free

;| Does workout with his kid attached to him, Suna ends up being an avid walker/hiker afterwards because it was low impact for you after childbirth and your kid loves the outside

;| Will never allow the twins within twenty feet of his offspring

;| Komori and Washio though? Oh yeah no shows his kid off constantly to those too

;| Gets asked when you’re gonna have another one by the way Suna is so over the moon with the first one

;| Inherits the knack for volleyball like their father has and Suna won’t lie he kinda enjoys it

;| Sets up a net outside and the both of them play a lot

;| Though he won’t admit it, Suna really appreciates Kita’s and Aran’s interest in his kid and feels a little proud when his old senpais tell him what an amazing kid he has

;| Suna always deflects it and says it’s only because it’s your kid

;| Deep down though he’s screaming because seeing his kid toss a ball to another Japanese Olyimic player melts his heart to no end

;| Maybe one more....maybe

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cucumbers-and-olives · 3 years

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Enemies to Lovers Part 3

masterlist <<part 1 <part 2 part 3 part 4 (coming soon!) >

Summary: You leave the Gillespie house and head to the airport with Charlie after an eventful two weeks. While at the airport, your flight gets delayed and you learn of some interesting news...

Category: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Charlie Gillespie x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Includes: arguing/fighting, small panic attack, cringy songs i wrote

A/N: so... i can never post on time. and i know its been a while since i posted the last chapter. i really hope you guys like this chapter! please reblog and comment and let me know what you think! your support means everything, and keeps me going, so thank you.

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: thank you to @wrhen for giving me help and feedback with this chapter!

AO3 link here (coming soon!)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 @cucumbersandolives. Thank you!

Ice & Fire, and Enemies to Lovers are both my own songs that I wrote. All song rights go to me.

“Charlie! Y/N! Your cab is here!” Ms.Gillespie called. You checked under the bed one last time before grabbing your suitcase and backpack.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality Ms.Gillespie,” You said, walking up to her. “If you hadn’t invited me I would have spent Christmas alone, and this was so much better.”

“Christmas alone? What a loser,” Charlie remarked as he put his bag into the trunk of the cab. You just rolled your eyes.

“Charlie, be a gentleman and grab her suitcase.” Ms.Gillespie said with a calm yet authoritative tone. He grabbed your suitcase and did as he was told. “I’m sorry about him, but I’m happy you had a good time. Maybe you can join us next year?”

“I would be honored,” You said, taking a last glance around the house you had stayed at for the past two weeks.

“Hey! Let’s go!” Charlie hollered from outside. “We’re gonna miss the flight!”

“Thank you, Ms.Gillespie,” You adjusted your backpack and stepped outside to the man who had become a whiny teenager.

“Finally,” He said as you sat down. “She’s my mother, not yours.”

“I’m sorry about him,” You said to the lady in the driver's seat. “We’re all ready to go now, sorry for the wait.”

She nodded and began to drive. The scenery was nice, but it only took a couple of minutes for you to start yelling at Charlie.

“Fuck this,” You pulled out his earbud. The niceties could stop now that his mother wasn’t here. “I have tried to be nice to you this whole time, but now I can say this: You want to act like a little boy throwing a hissy fit? Fine, be my guest. But at least do it in someone else’s company, I have been nothing but kind to you, you-” You almost cussed again, but you reined yourself in. He was worth your anger but not that much of it.

He just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever you say, princess.” His words, taken in another context, could have easily been mistaken for something other than the daggers they were.

“It’s delayed,” He said, and that simple fact destroyed the rest of the day. “The plane has some issue. They think it’ll be at least two hours, if not more.”

“God, every time I try to like airports, something bad happens,” You said, slumping back into the uncomfortable airport chairs. You knew it wasn’t the airline’s fault, (well it kinda was), but you needed to get back to work. You fiddled with the cord on your headphones before putting them back on.

“Ah- Not so fast,” Charlie said, blocking you from putting them on. He showed you who was calling him. “If I have to talk to the boss man,” He said, referring to Kenny, “Then you do too.”

“See but I don’t,” You said, as you received a different call. “I have a different boss to talk to.”

“I mean, I’m not your boss-” The girl on the other end of the phone said, but Charlie cut her off.

“Are you actually going to talk to Jadah?” He said, about to accept Kenny’s call.

“No, Charlie. Sav’s phone died, so you talk to your boss and I’ll talk to mine.” You walked around for a bit to find a quieter corner of the airport.

“You okay, Y/N?” Jadah asked, finally.

“No, but that's for another time. What’s up?”

“So… Kenny is telling Charlie about the song showcase, but there’s one thing that he’ll leave out.” She said, leaving you on a cliffhanger.

“That is?” You said, prompting her.

“I- I may have slipped him your demos?” Jadah said slowly, and at that moment, all sense of keeping up public appearances went out the window.

“Jadah! Those were not yours to share! In any capacity!” You took a deep breath and asked your first question. “Where did you get them? I thought that the sound guy and I were the only ones with copies?” “I may have bribed him for a copy,” She said sheepishly. Even though you couldn’t see her, you knew she was nervous.

“Jadah, I have one other question.” You paused, trying to figure out how to ask nicely. “Which songs did you give him? Cause if you gave him Enemies-”

“I gave him Ice & Fire, Enemies to Lovers, and I can’t remember the third one. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.” You were, a little bit. “Can you put Savannah on the phone though?” She gave a quick yes, and you could hear the phone being passed between hands.

“Y/N?” Savannah said.

“Did you know? A-about the demos,” You clarified.

“I knew you recorded them, and Jadah had me listen to them. You are amazing!”

“Thank you,” You said. “Uh, E.T.L. isn’t finished yet, but I had the time in the studio so I recorded it.” “Y/N, if you want to be a songwriter, you would be amazing!” She said, but you could tell what she meant.

“I won’t leave you in the middle of a show, Sav.” You were honest with your words. “I know.” She paused. You both knew what amazing opportunities would open up if you did. “Hold on one second, I’m going to go on mute really quick, okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You could see Charlie coming towards you. His walk had a purpose, but one that was unknown to you.

“Hello, Mr.Ortega! How can I help?” You put your hand out to Charlie, signaling to him that if he talked he would be dead as Kenny spoke.

“I’m not sure if the girls have told you, but we’d love to have you perform your songs at the showcase.” He said, and you chose your words wisely, so that way Charlie wouldn’t know.

“I’d love to! What time, and which ones would you like to hear?” You asked, as you pulled out a pen and rolled up your sleeves.

“Ice & Fire, Enemies to Lovers or uh, E.T.L., I believe that was how Jadah referred to it?” He said, and you could tell he wasn’t sure what to call it.

“Yeah, I can do that, any others?” You said, scribbling down quick abbreviations of the titles.

“Oh there was one more, How to Be a Heartbreaker, I loved that one.” He said, pausing. “And I believe that Jadah mentioned that you had a few others? If you want to pick one or two, that would be great!”

“Alright! I know it’s weird to ask this, but no one has given me any details, so what time is the showcase, and where is it?” You asked, excited for the opportunity to perform.

“4:30 this afternoon, in dance studio A.” You wrote down the time quickly.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be landing from my flight only an hour before that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You can do it.”

You scoffed a bit as the call ended. “Fuck.” You cussed under your breath.

“Wow, you talked to Kenny, and that's your response to a conversation with him? Anyways, I’m going to grab a coffee, want one?” He offered.

“Uh, I’ll just take a muffin, if they have one.” As you walked away, your brain was moving a mile a minute as you tried to figure out how everything would work.

“C’mon Y/L/N, if there’s one thing you can figure out, it’s making this work. You can do this.”

“Owen!” You said, running over to him.

“Hi!” He said giving you a hug, and then he looked at you. “Sav told me, you look like a mess.”

“Yeah, I know. Look, can you fix my necklace?” You said pointing to the jumbled mess it had gotten into around your neck.

“Yeah, ‘course, turn around,'' He said, and you did so. He got surprisingly close as you moved your hair away from your neck, and as he fiddled with it, you could see Charlie out of the corner of your eye. He had a look that you couldn’t put your finger on, but it almost seemed like… jealousy?

“All done!” He said, patting you on the back.

“Thank you,” You said, adjusting your sweatshirt a bit.

“You got this,” He said, grabbing your hand. “Okay?”

“Okay-” You said, but Kenny’s voice rose above everyone else's.

“Hello everyone! If you could turn your attention to the mirror, that would be great!” Everyone’s eyes turned to him, standing on a chair with a mic in hand. “Here's how this is going to work. I’d like our lovely leads to come to the mirror. Anyone else who isn’t singing can stand off of the dance floor over there,” He pointed to an area.

“If you are singing, you can follow me,” Paul said, raising his hand.

“Okay, go!” Kenny said, and as you followed Paul, you could hear him as a question. “Where is Charlie? Jeremy, check that bathroom, and Owen, look in the break room.”

“That was amazing Anna! Okay, who is next?” Kenny said, motioning to the person in front of you to come out. “Ah, Kevin, what do you have for us?”

Kevin began to talk, but it was hard to hear anything over your beating heart. You tried to take deep breaths, but it just got louder, and your worries began to overwhelm you. You took a step back in the line, making your way to the back. That would give you some time to overcome your worries before you went out there.

The line seemed to move a warp speed, because before you knew it, Kenny was calling your name.

“Y/N? Are you back there?” He asked, and you could hear everyone start to whisper when you didn’t respond.

“Yeah, gimme one second!” You said, fixing your shirt a bit. You got this. You can do it.

As you stepped out onto the stage Kenny’s face lit up. “There you are! How was the flight?” His eyes were kind, but as you looked into the audience, there were many shook faces.

“It was rough, but I’m happy to be here,” You said, sitting down in the chair in the middle of the stage. You kept taking deep breaths, trying, desperately to calm your nerves.

“I know you have a couple, so whenever you are ready, just say the song's name, and what characters you wrote it for,” Kenny explained. You looked around to see who was there. There was the choreo team, some Netflix executives, the lead cast, and a couple of other people who you didn’t recognize.

“This is lce & Fire, and I pictured Alex and Willie singing it.”

“Oh the desire

Like Ice & Fire

Shout it out loud

They won’t bring us down

Not a disgrace

We’ve made mistakes

Our love is strong

So sing along

I’ve been looking for you for so long

(I couldn’t find you)

Now that I’ve met you I’ve

Done something wrong

Oh, Ohhhh, Oh

Oh the desire

Like Ice & Fire

Shout it out loud

They can’t pull us down

Runnin’ from our past

Met in a crash

Through thick and thin

We can win

I’ve been looking for you for so long

(I couldn’t find you)

Now that I’ve met you I’ve

Done something wrong

Oh, Ohhhh, Oh

The forces pullin’ us together

Can’t stop, won’t stop

Oh hold on a little longer now

We’re Ice & Fire

(Fire)

Two parts of one

(One)

Can’t you see the passion in my eyes

Of Ice & Fire.”

As you finished, the final chord rang out from your guitar. The room was silent until Kenny spoke.

“That was wonderful! Booboo, Owen, what do you all think?” He said, turning to the actors for their opinion.

Booboo nodded to Owen. “Well, I think that your song embodies the characters really well. Uh, I definitely would love to sing it in the show, and I, uh personally can see our characters singing it. You wanna go?”

“Yeah, I agree with Owen on so many levels. I’d love to sing Ice & Fire, if that's okay with you Kenny,” Booboo turned to Kenny and the smile that was on his face was slowly mirrored on yours.

“Let’s do it! You wanna sing any others?” The room held its breath waiting for a response. And so did you.

Your first song had passed the test. Made it through. Your knee started bouncing again and you looked up to Savannah.

You got this. She mouthed.

You cleared your throat and moved the capo on your guitar. “Yeah, uh, this one is called Enemies to Lovers, and I didn’t write this one about any specific characters so it can be changed to fit any of them.”

You started singing and getting into the song. A door creaked open and you looked up, curious, and you continued to sing and play.

It was Charlie. He looked like a mess, like he had just gone to hell and back. Moving among the cast to find his seat, he didn’t notice you singing. Until you started the chorus.

It’s like we’re written in the stars,

Enemies to Lovers

Swinging past the bars,

Baby, we’ll discover-

You, me, we’re not so different,

You, me, we always win it,

You and me, we’re better than we seem,

Enemies

He watched you as you sang, and you, in turn, watched him. As you went into the chorus for a second time, you saw something change in his face. A realization or something, and you turned back to face Kenny as you finished the song.

We are written in the stars,

That's how we became

Well, what we are

Bicker hard and far,

Maybe we’ll discover-

You, me, we are different,

You, me, we can’t beat it,

You and me, we’re worse off than we seemed

You strummed your guitar, leaving the song and the story unfinished.

“That was amazing, unfortunately, I don’t think we have space for it in our show.” He smiled. “Someone will contact you about using Ice & Fire.”

The panel along with the rest of the room, packed up their things and started to leave until just you and the main cast remained. You started to walk out of the room when someone called out.

“Y/N! Wait!”

It was Charlie.

You looked at him, “Yes?”

“What the fuck was that song? Who’d you write it about?” He asked, like a love struck boy.

“I wrote it about you, duh!” You watched his face turn into one of- slight happiness? You laughed and started to walk away. Of course, he would think it’s about him, but why would it be? “Fuck you, Charlie. I didn’t think you were that self-centered!”

“I’m not!”He countered, and you stopped walking to look at him.

“Really? Cause only a self-centered person would ask me that… Or, do you have a crush on me? Aww, that’s so sweet!” You mocked. “See you around, lover boy.”

I really hope you liked that chapter! Let me know what you thought!

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JATP: @n0wornever @calamitykaty @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @badwolf00593 @dream-a-little-bigger-x

ETL: @yagorlemmalyn @ifilwtmfc @kaitieskidmore1 @p0gue420 @robbstarkmademedoit @lukepattersonsimp @honeyheartzz @notasoftie @winterwallacehenderson @jatp-musician-spirits @nani-2305 @boggie-brainrot

Charlie: @thesweetestsinner

#cucumber writes #enemies to lovers pt ♾#julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #jatp rpf #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #x reader #opj x reader #owen joyner x reader #julie and the phantoms fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fanfic

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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baby, you’re my new years’ eve

Summary: You and Emily are hosting a New Years’ Eve party for all of your friends, but she’s acting a little weird. You finally find out why when the clock strikes midnight.

Tags: fluff, nye fic, proposal, getting engaged, domesticity, romance, flirting, day in the life

Pairing: Emily x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

It’s almost 10am by the time you get back from your morning errands, laden with bags and a dusting of snow decorating your coat. You shrug out of your coat and scarf, peel off your gloves, and kick off your boots as you venture further into the house you share with your girlfriend, a warm safe haven from the frozen wind outside. All the Christmas lights the two of you had put up together a few weeks ago are turned on, and the warm and happy feeling settling in your chest only intensifies when you shoulder the kitchen door open to see Emily awake and drinking a cup of coffee at the table.

“You’re up,” you smile, knowing that Emily likes a lie-in on her days off, and she damn well deserves it, too.

“You’re back,” she echoes, a matching bright smile lighting up her face. She’s still in her pyjamas, a dressing gown thrown around her shoulders, and her hair has been let down from its bun, a slight curl to it after having slept with it up. She looks absolutely beautiful, naturally.

“I am.” You walk further into the room and put your bags down on the kitchen counter, beginning to unpack them. “I picked up some stuff for the party tonight, but I also got you breakfast.” You grab a plate from the cupboard and load it up with the pastries you’d bought from the local bakery, sold to you by the baker who knows both you and Emily by name.

“Oh,” she gasps in delight. “Have I told you lately I love you?” She reaches eagerly for the plate to place it on the table before reaching around for a kiss.

“You have,” you confirm, amused, “you tell me every day, Em.”

“Because it’s true,” she nods with wide eyes through a mouthful of almond croissant.

Laughing, you grab yourself a plate and a few pastries before joining Emily at the table. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Mm, it was a bit broken,” she admits, not quite meeting your eye for some reason. “But I made up for it with a little lie-in this morning.” Emily never sleeps badly at home. She’s always said that sleeping in her own bed with you wrapped around her is the best sleeping tablet she’s ever tried, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you say sympathetically. “You could always have a nap early this afternoon. Need to be in the best shape for partying the night away.”

“Yeah, I might do,” she says, looking back up at you. “If I start to feel tired I’ll try and sleep. Anyway, how did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Like a baby,” you smile. “Woke up early so I thought I’d beat the New Years’ Eve rush to buy up the rest of the snacks. Plus, pastries for breakfast… can’t beat that.”

“You definitely can’t,” Emily says, a smudge of icing on her lip. “Thank you for doing that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, leaning over to wipe the icing off with your thumb, kissing her for good measure. “Icing,” you explain with a grin as you pull away.

“Ah,” she says knowingly, winking at you before leaning back in for another kiss. “Right, come on. Finish your breakfast and we’ll get on with the day.”

The rest of the morning is spent in the kitchen. You’d decided that as much of the food on offer at the New Years’ party the two of you had planned should be homemade as possible, which meant a fridge full of baked goods you’d already prepared but a short list of items that still needed to be made. It was a bit of an undertaking, but it kept you busy. Despite having known the rest of the BAU for years and having been fully incorporated into their family, you still get nervous before each gathering. Being surrounded by powerful, smart, successful FBI agents was always going to be intimidating, no matter how much you considered them your friends.

“Emily, please don’t stick your finger into the butter and then plunge it into the sugar,” you sigh, a little exasperated as your girlfriend shoves her greasy finger into her mouth for the third time.

“What?” she asks, pretending to be insulted. “It tastes good.”

“Yeah, it’s also not very hygienic,” you point out, rolling out the cookie dough.

“Oh, please, what’s a bit of my saliva when you kiss me everyday anyway?” she asks.

“Well, I might think that,” you reason, “but I’m not sure our guests will. Unless you’ve been running around kissing them, too?” You point your rolling pin at her accusatorily as you wait for her response.

“No!” she cries, kissing you in promise of her devotion. “I only have eyes for you, baby. By the way is it too early to have a glass of wine?”

You roll your eyes at that, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a fond laugh. “It’s 11am Emily,” you giggle. “What’s got into you this morning?”

“Nothing,” she says defensively. “I’m just… excited for the party later.”

“Hmm, okay,” you say dubiously, raising an amused eyebrow in her direction. “In that case, you get started on the samosas. Fry up the filling I prepared and roll out the pastry for me? Then all we need to do is put the chips in later on and set it all up.”

“Anything for you, baby,” she smiles, kissing your cheek before getting on with her assignment.

You work together with your ‘happy’ playlist playing over the kitchen speakers for the next hour and a bit to get all the food ready, and by the time the samosas are being fried, you’re both in desperate need of a sit down. “Right, let’s order something to eat and watch an episode or three of Parks and Rec before we need to get ready and set up, how does that sound?” Emily asks as you both begin the mammoth task of cleaning up the bombsite of a kitchen.

“I don’t know, Em, we have so much food in the fridge,” you say, worrying your lip at the decision.

“Yeah, but it’s all for the party tonight, you don’t want to eat it now,” she says, reaching for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Come on, we’ll tidy up afterwards. I’ll order in some UberEats and we’ll relax for a little while. We deserve it after all this.”

“Okay,” you relent, offering her a grateful smile and letting yourself be guided to the sofa by Emily’s hand.

“You’ve done an amazing job at making all this food, sweetheart,” she says warmly, running a hand through your hair. “You should rest for a bit now so you can properly enjoy tonight, yeah?” She tucks a blanket around you and hands you the remote before she pulls out her phone to order you both some lunch.

Sandwiches eaten and two extra coffees polished off, you get started on setting up the house for the party. The leftover decorations from Christmas make the house bright and pretty enough, so it’s fairly easy to make the house look welcoming, but you still have to sort out the food and drink, move the furniture, and put away the valuables. Not to mention getting yourselves ready.

“Everyone’s arriving at 8, right babe?” Emily calls from the kitchen as you move the coffee table to the side in the living right.

“That’s right,” you call back. “But Spencer and Penelope will probably be here early.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Emily says, walking into the living room and leaning against the doorframe as you finish pushing the table aside to make the room more accessible.

“Does this look okay?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips as you survey your living room.

“It looks great, baby,” Emily reassures you, pushing off the door and pulling you into a side hug as you both look at the decorated room. “The Christmas tree is still up which makes the whole room look lovely, and the New Year banner is nice, too. It’s absolutely perfect for what we need it to do.”

“Okay,” you agree, turning to the side to press your face into her neck, kissing her briefly before pulling away again. “Let’s tidy away the expensive stuff and then go and get ready, yeah?”

“Y/N, there are like 15 people coming and nobody’s gonna get off their tits; we don’t really need to put this stuff away,” she promises, but it’s to no avail.

“Well, I’d rather be safe. Even tipsy people can do some damage,” you point out, putting Emily’s mother’s vase in the cabinet along with a few decorations from the mantle.

“Fair enough,” she agrees, heading into the kitchen to continue tidying up after your earlier cooking adventures. You join her a moment later and the two of you work quickly to do the washing up, tidy the counter, and put the dishwasher on. You’re soon looking at a spick and span kitchen, nearly party-ready, and you smile at your girlfriend in satisfaction. “Looks amazing, doesn’t it?” she smiles back at you.

“It does indeed,” you nod. “It’s only 4. You wanna sit down for a bit before getting ready?”

“Absolutely I do,” she says. “Wanna nap with me?”

“Please,” you sigh, grabbing her hand to lead her down to your bedroom. The two of you ditch the trousers and bury under the covers, setting a timer for an hour before promptly falling asleep.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Emily asks as you both stand under the hot jet of water. Your favourite part of moving in with Emily was definitely the shower; you’d moved from a flat with a from a tiny bath and shower combo unit to a beautiful house on the outskirts of DC with a large walk-in shower and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced; it was quite the upgrade.

“Only if I get to do yours afterwards,” you grin, leaning in for a rather wet and soapy kiss.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, spinning you round and pouring a generous dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathering up your hair as she massages her fingers into your scalp in a delicious massage. You can’t help but lean into the touch, just as you always do with Emily, making her chuckle fondly. “Feel good?”

You just let out a happy moan in response, sighing as the water washes the shampoo away and Emily quickly applies some conditioner. “Your turn,” you say, doing the same for your girlfriend as she sighs appreciatively.

You both shave your legs and underarms quickly before finishing up in the shower and towelling off next to one another in the spacious bathroom. “Right, it’s 5.30,” you say, checking your phone while Emily wraps her hair up, “so we’ve got like… two hours, probably, until Pen and Spencer show up.”

“Plenty of time,” Emily says breezily, waving her hand in your direction as you open the bathroom window to air out the humidity.

“Still, better to be early rather than late,” you say pointedly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her away from her perch by the radiator and into the bedroom.

She hums as she drops her towel and peruses her wardrobe. When she turns back around with the dress she plans on wearing, you don’t bother to hide your blatant appreciation. After all these years you’re still somehow blown away with how sexy Emily manages to be. “Naughty girl,” she gasps in mock admonishment. “We don’t have time for that. Your words not mine.”

“Life’s tough,” you sigh heavily, walking over and squeezing her ass lightly, taking great pleasure in making her jump as you pull out the dress you’d decided on earlier in the week. “What do you think?” you ask her.

“It will look absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” she promises, kissing your cheek. She passes you your bathrobe and pulls her own on as you both head to your adjoining dressing tables to sort out your hair. “Straight or curly?”

“Hmm, straight, I think,” you reply, “you know I love your natural hair. I’m gonna go curly though, so we’ll compliment each other perfectly.”

You put on some music and get ready together in tandem, and it goes about as simply as it can when Emily’s involved. You only have three make-up brushes chucked at you and her desk isn’t a total disgrace by the time you’re finished, so you take it as a win. It’s just gone 7 by the time you’re both dressed up to the nines and ready for the party.

“You look… breathtaking,” Emily says dreamily as she drinks you in, kissing you gently so as not to smudge either of your lipsticks.

“Thanks, Em,” you say shyly. “You look absolutely beautiful, too.” She’s wearing a gorgeous full-length black dress with a deep v neck line and a slit in the right leg. She’s a vision next to your colourful outfit and bright makeup, always complementing one another in just the right ways.

“Right, well, if we both look amazing, it’s time to set out the food, isn’t it?” she asks, winking at you as she leads the way out to the kitchen, shutting and locking the door behind you to prevent any stray party guests from wandering in.

The next hour passes quickly and soon guests are spilling through the door, brightening the whole house with their chatter and laughter, getting started on the wine and party food. Emily is marginally quieter than usual, but you brush it up to her just being tired, especially when she’s roped into a conversation with Hotch and Rossi and immediately perks up.

The whole of the BAU team is here, along with your best friends and the few Couple Friends you and Emily had made over the last few years that made you both feel far too grown up and sophisticated. Your friends quickly mingle in with the rest of the guests, though, which was your biggest worry, so with that relief you let yourself relax and enjoy the party.

Spencer and Penelope snag you into a conversation, plying you with champagne and the samosas you’d made with Emily earlier until you properly let go and enjoy yourself. “Wait, Emily made these?” Spencer asks, slightly incredulous at the idea of his most chaotic friend being even somewhat capable in the kitchen.

“She was supervised, don’t worry,” you laugh, biting into one delicious samosa after another.

“I wish I could cook,” Spencer says as he accepts another one from Penelope’s proffered plate.

“Aw, I’ll teach you baby genius,” Penelope grins. “But I once watched you try and put a croissant in the toaster, so you may be a lost cause.”

“Hey, that was when I’d first joined the BAU,” Spencer protests. “It was the first time I had a salary and could afford such luxuries, you can’t blame me for not knowing what to do with it.” His defenses fall on deaf ears, though, as you and Penelope laugh loudly at his expense. “Derek will defend me,” he eventually mutters before running off to find his boyfriend.

You and Penelope chat easily for a while, introducing her to a few of your friends as you orbit around the downstairs of your house. Eventually, you cross paths with Emily again, who still looks a little tense and quiet. “Hey,” you say, catching her arm and subtly drawing her to the side. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, plastering on a smile you know is fake. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just enjoy the party, okay? We’ll talk later.”

You can’t really enjoy the party when the back of your mind is continually worrying about your girlfriend, but you’re able to circle around the house a few more times, chatting with all of your guests as everyone tucks into the alcohol and food. Before you know it it’s nearing midnight and Emily’s in the corner of the kitchen having a serious-looking conversation with Hotch.

Tentatively approaching, you tap Emily on the shoulder. “Everyone’s gonna watch the ball drop in the living room,” you say. “You coming?” You try and smile as encouragingly as possible, taking her soft hand in yours.

“Yeah,” she says, looking a little flustered and you can see a little sheen of sweat on her forehead, “yeah, of course, baby. Let’s go.” She hands her glass of champagne to Hotch in a sort of weird gesture that has you furrowing her eyebrows, but nevertheless she grips your hand firmly and you swan into the living room which is already housing most of the guests, everyone chatting and laughing loudly. The sight of so many people you love and adore has you smiling warmly, and you press your arm up against Emily’s, resting your head on her shoulder as the 2 minute countdown begins.

“I love you so much, you know,” you whisper, just for her to hear in the loud, excited room. “I can’t wait to spend a whole other year together. I feel so lucky to have you.”

She moves her neck slightly causing you to lift your head and you’re met with a happy, excited smile, all traces of the nervous Emily that had been swanning around the party all night disappeared. “I feel even luckier to have you, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”

You both lean in for a kiss which is quickly interrupted by Derek. “Bit early, ladies,” he calls across the room, “it’s not midnight yet.” He’s got Spencer curled up under his arm on the sofa, resting comfortably next to JJ and Penelope who have also cuddled up together. Hotch and Rossi are standing by the Christmas tree rolling their eyes fondly at their agents.

Emily responds with a purposeful middle finger and a well-practiced sneer, but Derek can’t reply because soon the room fills with a swell of noise as everyone starts to count down.

Everyone cheers as the new year is rung in, but as you turn to kiss Emily, you’re instead faced with her on one knee, offering an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. You gasp loudly, gaining everyone’s attention and everyone stops their celebration as a happy, expectant hush falls on the room, the TV’s celebration the only sound.

“Y/N, I can’t express how much I love you,” Emily starts, voice confident but you can hear the undercurrent of emotion written all over it. “All I want to do for the rest of my life is be with you. Ring in each new year with you, celebrate every Christmas with you, come home from every hard case to you, eat pastry for breakfast with you. You’re all I need to be happy, and you’d make me impossibly happier if you’d do me the honour of being my wife. So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my God,” you reply tearfully as soon as she’s finished, tears spilling down your face as she carefully pushes the ring onto your finger and stands up to hug you. Everyone around you is clapping and cheering and celebrating your love but your whole world is shrunk down to the two of you, Emily’s hands on your lower back, her ring on your finger, the press of her body up against yours.

Eventually though, you pull away and kiss her, turning to face your guests with the happiest smile on your face. Hotch is smiling proudly and all the events of the evening slip into place, so you turn to kiss Emily on the cheek fondly. Penelope is crying, naturally, as are most of your friends and everyone crowds round in excitement, congratulating the two of you.

When you finally get a bit of space later in the night, you ask Emily where she’d kept the ring all evening.

“In my bra,” she answers, grinning widely.

“God, how did I not guess that,” you smile fondly, rolling your eyes. You kiss her anyway, though, because she’s hot and you’re very much in love.

“I’m so fucking happy you said yes,” she whispers, keeping her head pressed closely to yours.

“Did you seriously think I would ever say anything else?” you ask, surprised that Emily could possibly think you’d say no.

“Well, I obviously had a feeling,” she admits. “But you can’t help but feel fearful of the tiny probability you’re wrong.”

“Well I didn’t,” you say happily, leaning forward slightly to kiss her softly on the nose.

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replies, gripping her hand. “I seriously love you so much, Y/N.”

“And I seriously love you so much, Emily,” you grin. “I can’t wait to call you my wife, but I’m dead happy with fiancée. That will definitely suffice for now.”

The guests slowly trickle out as the hours tick on, eager to leave the newly engaged couple to themselves. Penelope and Spencer make you promise to have a catch-up brunch in the next few weeks to which you eagerly agree, and Hotch and Rossi both congratulate you like they’re both you and Emily’s dads. Derek gives you both massive hugs and JJ follows up with much gentler hugs and congratulations.

“Tidy up in the morning?” you propose, making Emily’s eyebrows shoot up; you usually insist on tidying up there and then, but she quickly understands as you start to unzip your dress and walk backwards towards the bedroom.

“Tidy up in the morning, indeed,” she agrees, running after you.

“My fiancée,” you sigh happily as you enter your cosy bedroom, pausing to kiss Emily softly.

“Your fiancée,” Emily agrees with a wide grin gracing her lips, leading you to the bed as you both start off this next exciting chapter of your lives together in the most appropriate way you can imagine.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

#criminal minds #my writing #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic rec #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds reader-insert #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds fluff #emily prentiss x reader fic #emily prentiss x y/n fic

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mccoyyy · 3 years

Note

Bring historical accuracy to Carlisle's early life, pretty please 🥰

absolutely (and thank you @pandabooraccoon and the other two anons who asked something similar to this too I love you so much). I'm putting this under a read more cause, yeah

ok, to start of with I am nowhere near an expert, but this time period in history really fascinates me cause there was so much going on.

so Carlisle was born in 1640′s London, and at the time there was a shit tonne of religious and political upheaval going on. You had the Union of Crowns, disagreements over the Church systems, covenanting, Civil War and Cromwell, Executions and the removal and restoration of the Monarchy. Shit was mad. But I’m gonna start with Carlisle’s dad (I’m going to call him Abraham but full credit for that one goes to @panlight) cause I have so many thoughts

Abraham was a pastor in 1640. He most likely started working when he was breached and then took over as Pastor (Preacher) after his dad died. I’m going to say he was born around 1620, married in 1639ish and then Carlisle was born a year later. So he would be what, 20 when Carlisle was born.

First of the bat, there is no way that Abraham would still be alive and kicking when Carlisle was 23. The life expectancy back then was just under 40, so a 43 year old Abraham cutting about burning witches (and we’ll get to that in just a moment) just isn’t realistic but neither are vampires so oh well. In terms of religion if were being historically accurate, then Abraham would have most likely been an Anglican pastor as that was the dominant form of church in England at the time and he would have been fucked up by the mob/church/general public/all of the above for being anything else

However, it gets sticky when you bring in the idea of Puritanism. I firmly believe that Abraham would have loved Cromwell and puritanism (cause I like to headcanon him as an utter dick) but if were doing that then it creates a problem. If Abe was a devout Protestant Anglican, he would have believed in the divine right of kings (a monarch has no authority other than the word of god and therefore doesn't need to listen to anyone else) and therefore seen Charles I as the mouth of God, and had issues with the whole execution thing, so if Abe was a Puritan, then he would probably have to be a Presbyterian (dominant form of church in Scotland and also the parliamentarians) but again, this causes problems cause no one really liked Presbyterianism (understatement). It’s possible that he could have been influenced by Cromwell and switched from Anglicanism but religion back then was very different to what it was now, it took a lot to get people to change their ideas over faith (see the plague) so I’m gonna go out on a limb and blame Charles I who first started to undermine parliament and try to start Absolutism which lead Abe to change his loyalties. Either that or he supported Cromwell’s agenda but didn’t agree with execution which is the most likely option tbh.

With Abraham out of the way, we can now move on to our boy. Carlisle, the son of a pastor in 1640, there is no fucking way that this dude didn’t know the year/date he was born. Know why? cause dates were recorded by none other than the fucking church. aka his father. Carlisle is just bad with dates but that's ok buddy i guess that happens when your like 300. Secondly, his dad wouldn’t have raised him. It would have been left up to his mum, but cause she wasn't around he would have been raised by a wet nurse until he was breeched and entered the adult world at the ripe and grown up age of six (at least I think but I’m not 100% sure) when he would have started helping his father with sermons, and received an education of some form (probably a clerics education). Either way, he would have been helping his father at a very young age and exposed to so much shit

Back to Abraham for a wee second. Smeyer writes that he hunted down and burned vampires but again, this isn’t likely. Vampire hunters did exist but not in London. They were most common in Bulgarian/Serbian beliefs and even then they were very different to the modern idea of vampire hunters. And secondly, they wouldn’t have been burned! pyres weren’t used in the 1600s and instead would probably have been killed through hangings, torture or trials to determine whether they were a witch or not. So the good news is, Carlisle didn’t have to watch women being burned alive from the age of like six, he would only have to watch women being drowned, tortured, disembowelled, branded and hanged! and not just women accused of being witches, but most likely Catholics too!

We don’t know much about Carlisle’s life from his birth to his ‘death’, so I’m gonna take creative liberty and make some stuff up. London in the 1640s was utterly awful. It was dark, bleak, and really smelly. He was pretty lucky in terms of the plague cause the only major outbreaks occurred just before him and just after him (1603, 25 and 65) but there would have been the odd outbreak. I like to believe that Carlisle was an argumentative little shit and from the age of like 10 argued with his dad about literally everything. Canon says that Carlisle didn’t agree with his fathers particular brand of faith, so I’m going to go out on a limb and say that whilst he was still a protestant, and most likely Anglican, he probably followed an early form of religious tolerance at the least. Lutheranism didn’t reach England until around the enlightenment so I don't want to call him that but it was in existence in Germany at the same time so others had probably moved towards it a little, it just didn't have a name. His tolerance probably came from watching his father punish Catholics from the age of six, and their main argument as he got older was probably regarding tolerance of Catholicism. As much as I hate to say it, its low key unrealistic that Carlisle wasn’t married as a human so that would probably have been another point of contest between Carlisle and Abraham.

During Cromwell’s puritan reign was the most prominent witch-hunting years too, so if were being really nit-picky then Abraham would probably have only started hunting witches or at least started doing it a lot more frequently than he previously did round about here.

Cromwell died in 1658, and the monarchy was restored in England in 1660, but Carlisle’s dad most likely still followed puritan ideals and was not happy with the restoration period, and again, the revival of Christmas, theatre and fun was something that 20 year old Carlisle and Abraham would have disagreed over. Carlisle would have taken over a lot of his fathers duties round about this time, leading sermons and all that because Abraham should have been dead by now so I guess smeyer can have that one.

And now we get up to our boy’s final years. And this is like shooting still targets. Carlisle was hunting vampires in London sewers when he got bit, and then crawled into a potato cellar where he writhed in agony for 3-4 days. Firstly, sewers. The London sewage system wasn’t built for one or two hundred years. London was so fucking smelly. Like so much so that if it was sunny the house of commons/Westminster had to be evacuated cause the (literal) shite in the Thames would have warmed up and became especially pungent, and it was only when it started to affect MP’s that they though that maybe they should do something about it (which is probably another reason that super-senses-vampire Carlisle boosted to France as soon as possible). So he wouldn’t have been fighting vampires in sewage systems, but instead an alley, slums, or even along or near the Thames if you want to keep the sewage aspect.

After being bitten, it would have been pretty difficult for Carlisle to drag himself into a potato cellar because he’d be crawling for quite some time. Potatoes didn't become a staple crop in society for quite a while. They were about and people ate them, but were largely seen as food for the lower classes in society, and there certainly wouldn't have been cellars filled with them.

Also just as a little end note, plague devastated London 5 years after he was turned so literally my favourite headcanon to give Carlisle is that he blamed the outbreak on himself. Yes, he may have went along with the miasmic theory that Plague was caused by bad air instead of his fathers ‘divine punishment’ theories, but there’s nothing like a good bit of puritan guilt am I right? seeing and maybe helping with the plague (masks and so many herbs stuffed inside them would have blocked the smell of blood) is also what I like to think made Carlisle want to go into medicine.

And there you have it. A (sort of) accurate version of Carlisle’s and Abraham’s life. and again, disclaimer, I am nowhere near an expert, so there might be inaccuracies and mistakes here. But basically, smeyer please. Google is free.

#god im such a nerd #ive literally been waiting for this excuse lol #history is something im seriously interested in so pair that with immortal vampires living in different time periods and im in heaven #watch someone who actually is an expert come along like 'yeah your completely wrong lol'#ask #stregoni-benefici #carlisle cullen #twilight headcanon #twilight #twilight renaissance #rach rambles

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years

Text

Sparks of Life Opera Edition

I am still not over Singing a New Tune so I am going to recap for you the experience of writing that fic because there were many interesting moments over the course of those three days. Lemme start from the beginning.

- So I’m writing a fic that mostly focuses on sexual stuff but it is also mainly happening in an opera so my first order of business is to figure out what that opera is. Both the building itself and the show they’ll be watching. Because that is of utmost importance.

- I have already mentioned that SoL is located in New York so I looked up New York operas. I do not vibe with research most of the time but I vibe even less with having to come up with names for any kind of thing so research was definitely the choice here.

- I somehow get results about operas that are in the other end of the USA. That was not great. I get to the Metropolitan Opera House at last (which I might have known existed if I cared about opera in any way, shape or form) which is great! I am so close to starting the fic! Just need to figure out what opera they’re watching. Because I need that for reasons.

- I end up downloading a PDF with the seatings inside the Met Opera so that I can figure out where the hell they will be seating. But I leave that for later. I look through the actual plays that they’re having while absolutely failing with the navigation of their site. I find a show that catches my eye. It’s called The Magic Flute. I have zero idea what it’s about so I read the Wikipedia summary just to be aware. It mentions that a character has a moment when he’s singing about his search for a wife and I think “Perfect! Foreshadowing!” (since this is set pretty early on in Griffin and Valtor’s relationship).

- I decide to look up the opera and see if I can find a part of it on youtube to figure out how it will sound. I am pretty sold on it already because of the summary I read and also because it implies there is magic as a subject in it which would call back to canon. Still, I look it up. I find a full version of it on the internet with English subtitles... It is 2 hours and 35 minutes:

youtube

- “Wow, okay... that’s a bit much. But hey, it has got subtitles in English. Maybe I’d actually watch that... once I’m done with the fic. I’m just gonna listen to a little bit while I finish my research, though, so I can have an idea of what it sounds like.”

- Now it’s time to open the engagement fic - Enough to Be Yours - because I don’t remember what year they got engaged in and I need that to reverse engineer the year in which this fic is taking place so that I can make sure that The Magic Flute was being performed back then. I don’t have an year stated in the engagement fic, though. I have a date - 9th October which is Friday and that means the year is 2015. Great! So I need to figure out if they were performing The Magic Flute back in 2010. Great.

- That takes a shit ton of time and nerves as it turns out. I spent over 4 hours just researching the logistics for this fic and a lot of that was unnecessary but I’m getting ahead of myself.

- I cannot find out whether they were performing the Magic Flute in 2010. I get results of it being broadcast in English (for the first time, I believe) in 2012 but that is way too late for this fic to be happening. Also, they are speaking of a broadcast which just doesn’t work for me. So I am having a hard time over here.

- I find a list of the new titles in 2011 but nothing mentions The Magic Flute as far as I can see.

- I am now considering switching to another opera. I see an opera that is based on events from The Song of the Nibelungs (I cannot be assed to go back and check what the actual title was). That catches my eye because I have read a book that was titled The Ring of the Nibelungs, I believe, and I kinda remember stuff from it... which is what makes me hesitate because that was a big tragedy.

- Meanwhile, I have stumbled upon a trailer for The Magic Flute:

youtube

MY GOD IS THAT BEAUTIFUL! THOSE PROPS ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU GET TO GO AND SEE THAT LIVE? THAT IS NUTS! (Also, when I mentioned paper birds (I think they are) in the fic, I meant the ones shown in 0:13, not the big one in the beginning but HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT THING????? HOW IS THAT REAL?!?!?!?! IT IS SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T. I AM DYING. THIS IS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL.)

- I somehow happen upon an old archive of the opera (idk how I did that but I bookmarked it in case I’ll need it again) that has information about plays going back as far as the year 1900. This is nuts! I am in too deep but I can’t pull myself away. I’ve gotten this far, I will see it through.

- I search for keyword “flute” and I get results. Some of them are pretty old but I finally find what I need. Performances of the Magic Flute in 2010! Bingo!

- ...Oh, wait, they’re all around Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Hmm... when will it be okay for them to go? I mean, Valtor has been established to have zero free time around that time of the year and I can’t see them going on the 24th or the 31st... Oh, those are matinees. Definitely no! I need them to go in the evening. And some of these are broadcasts which doesn’t work for me either.

- I looked up earlier years as well. I considered another opera again. I decided to switch up the timeline a little. It makes sense if it��s in 2009. I think they had spring performances of The Magic Flute then. Or was it 2008? Anyway, I finally settle on an early April date in 2009 (I think). Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to the seats.

- First I need to figure out what floor (let’s say) of the opera they’re on. I was thinking of the last one first (family circle) but the boxes (I figure those seats will be safest for their activities) look like this:

which isn’t vibing with me because they would be in the front row and it seems more visible. So I relocate to the previous floor (balcony) that looks like this:

That works a little better although there’s the danger of having more people in their box. But they’re sitting in box 14, seats 5 (Griffin) and 6 (Valtor) (where the arrow is pointing) and there’s only one man in seat 4 in front of them. So that is the best I can do.

- Wow, all that’s finally figured out. I decide to do all the rest of the research up front in order to be able to just write after that and not stop for another 4 hours. More on those other things later BUT I get to the part where I need to pick a vibrator and... well, I done fucked up.

- First thing that comes up for a remote controlled vibrator is Lush, of course. And I am immediately sold because it has a sound activated setting which Valtor will definitely love to utilize while in the opera.

BUT

Lush 2 (which is the first one to have the sound activated setting, I believe) came out in 2018. Even if we accept that Lush also has it, that came out in 2015. My fic is set in 2009. Searching for 2009 vibrators literally went no where so in the end I decided that the SoL verse is actually set in a parallel universe where time is a little warped so the Lush 2 is out in 2009. Plus, that way there isn’t going to be a pandemic in future installments. Overall, that works. Except that I needn’t have been so thorough with my opera research beforehand. Oh, well. It’s finally time to start writing.

- How do you write? How do you start a fic? One word in front of the other? Oh, okay, never mind. Lipstick is a girl’s best friend. Let’s start from there. And a kiss that leads to the discussion of lipstick... Damn, I forgot to spend one more hour on researching what kind of lipstick Griffin would have worn. Shame! You don’t get that detail now. I believe I didn’t even mention a shade.

- Oh, wait. Need for his breath to taste like something. Hmm, let’s see. Tonic water? Yeah, that sounds about right. Never mind that he should have probably drunk it right before getting out of the car to kiss her if it was still lingering on his breath. I mean, that’s not impossible. Just improbable.

- He’s also wearing cologne, right? Gotta research that too. How else would I get this:

and zero idea what it actually smells like despite the description. Also, did not check if that was a thing in 2009 but the story now exists in a vacuum so who cares.

- Apparently, Griffin doesn’t own any golden bracelets even though she does have a golden necklace? Or she could have a golden bracelet, just not one she likes for the current situation? Anyway, I wanted to mention Ediltrude as well because the twins always go together and that was the best I came up with. (That said, I didn’t need to put the mentions of them one sentence apart.)

- My god, I used a semicolon! That feels illegal. I sure hope I used that bitch correctly.

- Okay, I absolutely love all the banter and just flow in the car. Idk how I did that since it’s such a constricted space but I am really proud of it. However, the logistics were sometimes hard to logic my way through. I mean, Valtor doesn’t get to look at her a lot and I had to employ a red traffic light to give him the chance to do so.

- I hit a wall about three paragraphs later. Things started going in a weird direction. I was considering even deleting the last two lines but then I managed to get back on track thanks to having figured out how they met and I decided to write a little bit about that without spoiling it (that will be a fic of its own some day). Suffice it to say it was a meet-very-ugly. But it bailed me out. Also, they got over it so it’s all good.

- And now... that paragraph. You know which one I’m talking about. It stands out with the locations I’ve given. That paragraph required 30 minutes of looking at Google Earth to figure it out and I still nearly got it wrong. At that point it occurred to me that they’ll need a place to park. I mean, idk how parking is in NYC but it’s probably not the way it is in Bulgaria especially on small neighborhood streets where it’s just... park wherever (even in front of a garage if you’re brazen enough and don’t fear having your tires slashed). So first, I was going to have them coming down Tenth Avenue and passing by the backside of the Opera which is not ideal for me because I needed Griffin to figure out they’re going to the opera so that they can have the following dialogue. But there is the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts right next door so I figure Griffin will recognize the area if it’s next to a library. And I have them almost at the garage but... that’s not looking right. This garage is on 65th Street and mine is on 62nd... I have been looking at the wrong garage for the past hour. Now that I have caught that mistake, things get easier. They just drive right past the facade of the opera, take a right turn and then enter the garage. Easy peasy. For whoever’s actually paying attention to the map.

- They’re in the garage now and I have to write another kiss. Shoot! I do not vibe with writing kisses. Writing sex scenes is much easier. But I’ll try my best because this is a little bit necessary if we’re dealing with an insertion of a vibrator in a public bathroom one minute from now. (Again, logistics!) I actually went back to add in a little discomfort during the kiss (but not too much because they’re consumed with each other anyway and probably missed something) just to make it more realistic. They can’t be comfortable in the car. Also, you have got to love how I never even thought of what make the car is. But I did stop to research the tinting of the car windows.

- Now this is extremely funny but I would have had zero idea that there are different laws about how tinted your car windows can be in the USA if I hadn’t read a very extensive critique of Fifty Shades (whichever part it was that had that info). So I look up the VLT for New York and it says 70%. Great! Then it won’t be that visible through the windows what they’re doing inside. Oh, wait! VLT means Visible Light Transmission aka 70% of the light should be passing through the window. Aka it is only tinted on 30%. This much:

That’s practically nothing. You can see everything through it. Welp, then someone’s gonna see, I guess.

- Can’t believe I didn’t stop to look up clutches either. (Lmao, I was calling it a purse instead of a clutch at first even though I definitely meant a clutch. And then I remembered that clutch existed as a word. Who would’ve thought?) It’s baffling trying to figure out why my brain was prioritizing some details over others and I just genuinely have no idea what was going on.

- Griffin is blushing a lot in this. Can you tell I have no idea how else to convey Valtor giving her feelings through body language?

- I first envisioned the box being opened by the hair pin by turning it like a key. Only later did I realize that that wouldn’t be possible because the pin has two parts (whatever they’re called) and that would make turning it impossible unless all of the base fits into one hole in the lid of the box. So I had to adapt my vision to using the extensions at the ends of the hair pin like a hook that pulls the lid up once it’s clicked free. I have zero idea how that would be done but I’m sure it can be done. So yeah, anyway, the pin looks like this but with attachments at the ends to open the box:

- I might have gone a little overboard with Griffin’s reaction to having the vibrator inside her. I might have made her a bit too embarrassed but I still think that she simply wouldn’t appreciate someone knowing about what she considers a private experience (despite the very public setting).

- And I am being overly specific again with the seats but I worked for that information so you’re getting it against your will!

- Speaking of, that man in their box was pretty ignored throughout the fic. But then again Griffin wasn’t overflowing with lucidity. She is sure to have missed... A Lot, actually.

- My apologies (once again) to @her-majesty-wears-jeans for not letting Griffin punch Valtor in the face for the terrible pun he was about to make but I thought that that would ruin the mood so I had to skip it.

- I might have imagined things a little differently but then consent factored in and I had to change things up so that Griffin is clearly on board with everything. I hope it came through that way at least. She is on board even if she is very, very frustrated. She would never throw the bet just because it’s difficult for her. Though, I’m taking note for future fics of maybe being a little bit more explicit about the enjoyment of all parties involved. I just couldn’t really think of a way to convey it better back then and I am coming up with several ideas now and I will try to keep them in mind for future fics.

- I keep going back and forth on just how far into their relationship this is. Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough time for them to get this familiar with each other and sometimes it feels like too much for them to still be skirting their feelings for each other like that. Will update when I make up my mind about how long exactly it has been.

- In retrospect, probably should have picked up an opera that people would be less likely to bring their children to (as brought to my attention by @her-majesty-wears-jeans). I apologize for this. Did not consider it at all.

- A wild tangent about Griffin’s sexual experiences before Valtor popped up (for the second time now). This is giving me thoughts and I am not even sure if I’ll manage to get them all out in the bachelorette party fic. Oh, no, I am getting ideas again.

- God, I had to mention those paper birds because I adore them. Also, needed to do a time skip somehow (sure hope they don’t show up at the very end or the very beginning).

- So there are some things about the whole thing with the suit jacket that if you squint, you’ll miss the very far-fetched and convoluted ways in which I could make them make sense but again, it isn’t impossible to make them operate according to logic so good enough.

- And now for the dress:

I thought it would be reasonable for Griffin to own something like that. It doesn’t look overly expensive or dramatic.

- I swear that most of the 2% angst was an accident. Griffin was supposed to say the “You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?” line but the following few paragraphs sprang on me out of nowhere. That was where I left it off the first day I was working on it and I wasn’t sure how to continue it. Then the angst happened.

- I do not believe the retaliation part was planned but would it really be a Griffin x Valtor story if something like that hadn’t happened? XD

- “reverberated”, “multitudinous” and “unobtainable” are probably not words that Griffin’s muddled mind would go to in that precise moment but everything else I came up with for them just did not sound right.

- I completely forgot the word for neckline and was so mad at myself for that but, luckily, I managed to remember it before posting the fic. I believe the original read “he slipped a finger under the fabric of her dress, running it over the top of her breast” which is not incorrect but just not precise enough for my liking.

- Sure hope the shortened version of the opera did not cut out the ending musical sequence. But that seems unlikely.

- The idea was running overly long in my head by having them going back to the penthouse so that I could have the scene where he picked her up so I decided to move things around and have him carry her bridal style on their way from the opera to the car. It’s not like she didn’t earn it.

- Pretty sure I had planned something a little different for the last several lines of dialogue but I couldn’t remember what so we get this. Which isn’t a disadvantage. I mean, Griffin is already thinking of marrying him. XD (That’s probably a bit of a stretch at the current status of their relationship but then again, she was thinking of a wedding, not necessarily of their wedding even though I’m clearly a little romance gargoyle that meant exactly that.)

- Originally, Valtor was supposed to floor the brakes while they were out in the NYC traffic but then I decided that doing it while still in the garage with only one car behind them and both vehicles driving at a very slow speed was a lot safer so I switched to that. It also saved me writing more words which was appreciated. I thought this fic would be a bit shorter.

- I was at a loss for how many orgasms Griffin should want from him but then the commitment line happened and that was all avoided.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #sparks of life #singing a new tune #trivia #trivia tuesday #research #my writing process #the magic flute #yeah no cut and this is gonna be hell on mobile #i know #i'm evil

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 3

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Sleigh Ride

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: Hint of anxiety issues, fluff, fluff, and more tooth rotting fluff.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 4 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST** **MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

The last thing you remember from the night before was falling asleep wrapped up in Dean’s arms in the Dean cave. Normally you weren’t one to fall asleep during movie night, but it also wasn’t normal for Dean to be that cuddly either, and you were apparently a lot more worn down from the hunt than you thought you were, not to mention your little self inflicted melt down over Christmas. Your anxiety tended to hit at the world's worst time and take a whole lot out of you when it did, yesterday was no exception.

When you woke up this morning you were tucked safely in your bed, and you knew you didn’t wake up to get there on your own, meaning Dean must have carried you there and tucked you in after you had fallen asleep. That thought alone made you smile. Dean cared about you enough to carry you in there, and tuck you into your bed after you had fallen asleep on him. No man had ever done that for you before, and you swear your heart grew three sizes in your chest.

You had always harbored feelings for Dean, but never allowed yourself to think that they could possibly be reciprocated by the famous Winchester. He was a warrior, a hero, and you were just lucky he allowed you into his little band of misfits to hunt with them, and gave you home when you met him years ago hunting a nest of Vampires in Illinois.

You climb out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas Dean had bought for you the night before, and made your way into the kitchen in search of coffee. You were surprised to find Dean standing next to the coffee pot with a cup in hand, fully dressed, showered, and ready for the day; normally Dean was a bit of a late sleeper.

“Morning,” he said brightly, as if he’d been up waiting for hours, quickly grabbing a mug for you and filling it with coffee before you could even cross the floor.

“Morning,” you tell him with a smile as you take the steaming mug from him, and make your way over to the table to sit down. “What’s got you up so early?” you asked him, and he chuckles as he sits to work on your breakfast.

“Early? Sweetheart it’s almost noon,” he says without even turning around to face you, cracking an egg over the pan in front of him. “I was starting to think you were going to skip today and just stay in bed. I was a little hurt that I didn’t get an invitation,” he played as he pulled bacon from the pack and added it to the pan in front of him with the eggs.

You blush at his antics and hide behind your coffee cup as Sam comes striding into the room, a book in hand, and a cup of to refill with coffee in another. He didn’t so much as give the two of you a second glance as he refilled his coffee up and started to track back out to the library with his nose firmly implanted in a book. Dean watched his brother as he gave the bacon on final flip and plated up your food before rolling his eyes and turning to you, shaking his head as he delivered your breakfast to you.

“Boy’s lucky he found Eileen, if not I don’t think he’d ever get laid,” he grumbles as he takes a seat across from you and you stifle the laugh that threatens to fall from your lips with a mouth full of bacon.

“Leave him be,” you scold, and Dean’s eyes sparkle a little with mischief when he playfully runs his foot across your under the table. Was he really playing footsie with you?

You clear your throat, and decide to just play along without saying anything and you swear you saw a victory smirk cross his gorgeous face.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” you asked him, expecting some smart ass answer like porn, or some slasher marathon he’d planned since there was no case, and so much snow had fallen the night before it wasn’t like anyone wanted to get out in it anyway to actually work.

“You and I are gonna go downtown, so hurry up and eat your breakfast so you can get dressed,” he said excitedly, and you give him a confused look.

“Downtown? It was a snow storm last night? Can we even get downtown?” you asked him in confusion, but he seemed thoroughly unfazed.

“It stopped snowing hours ago, and the snow plows have already came through and cleared the roads, the sun's out, and it’s really not that bad out there, so hurry up Y/N/N!”

He looked so much like an over excited child that you couldn’t say no to that face even if you wanted too. You quickly finish your meal and dress in your room before meeting Dean in the garage where he’d gone to warm up Baby for you so that you wouldn’t be cold when you got into the car.

You don’t know where this new, thoughtfully sweet, Dean came from but you weren’t complaining. Dean had never wanted to spend this much time with you before, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

“What are we doing downtown Dean?” you asked him as the car moved ever closer to Dean’s destination, his fingers were drumming alone to the classic rock song that was filtering through the speakers, and he was humming in a way you had only heard him do about a handful of times. He looked, happy? It was rare that Dean ever looked happy. It was a nice chance.

“You're about to find out,” he said with a smirk, pointing ahead of him, at the side road where a fully decked out horse driven sleigh was waiting, children flocking around the animal as the handler let them each have a turn petting it’s short main. Your mouth fell open in utter shock and disbelief at the sight before you, and you couldn’t deny that the little girl in you was squealing with delight at the sight before you as Dean parks Baby safely on the side of the street.

“Dean! Are you serious?!”

You were all but bouncing up and down in the seat and Dean was chuckling at your excitement as his bright green eyes watched you, an emotion filling them you couldn’t understand in that moment.

“Serious as a heart attack baby girl, I’ve already got us booked for a ride, in fact they're waiting on us now,” he said, getting out of the car and making his way around to pull you from the passenger side.

You were still in so much shock that you all you could do was smile like an idiot as he laced his fingers with yours, and made his way over to the sleigh, shopping to let you pet the horse for a moment before helping you into it, following close behind you and draping the blanket they provided over your lap so that you wouldn’t get cold.

The young man that was standing next to the horse climbed up behind the reins and took off slowly, making his way through a heavily decorated part of town, and through the little orchard that set just outside the park, snow making them limbs of the trees heavy and everything bright like winter wonderland as your eyes traveled around the scene before you. It looked like something out of a cheesy Hallmark movie, but you wouldn’t trade this experience for the world. Dean's eyes barley left your face, watching you as you looked around with a childlike amusement.

“Dean, how did you even find out they were doing this?” you asked him as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close to him to help keep you warm. Your heart fluttered around in your chest at the simple little act, and damn he smelt like Heaven.

“I saw it on the news, and I remember you saying how much you loved horses, so I figured it was something you would like to do,” he said simply with a shrug, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and those eye crinkles you loved so much coming out to play. “I thought this would be the perfect day 11.”

“I love it De, thank you for thinking of me,” you tell him, letting your head rest against his shoulder as the landscape passed along by you like a beautiful, moving portrait.

“I always think of you Y/N,” he said, and you blushed deeply at his little revelation, looking up into his forest green eyes as he stared down into your own. You watched as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes again, and for just a second you thought he was going to kiss you.

Just before the electric pull between the two of you became irresistible he pulled back a little, and you could have kicked yourself for thinking this was anything but plutonic. You didn’t have a chance to sulk about it before his free hand reached over and laced with yours, quickly making the moment all too intimate again, his lips kissing the top of your forehead and making your heart leap in your chest.

“You just wait to see what I have planned for day ten,” he chuckled as the sleigh started to make its way back to the starting point, and you started to question him, but something in his eyes just said he wanted to surprise you, so you wouldn’t spoil this for him either.

“You know you don’t have to do this Dean,” you tell him earnestly, and he smiles warmly down at you as the ride comes to an end, and he helps you down, leading you towards the little hot chocolate stand that was set up close by.

“I want too, Y/N/N, you deserve this, and I’m going to make this a Christmas you will never forget, trust me.”

Your mind and heart fluttered with possibilities and excitement that you hadn’t felt in years, but more importantly you were pretty sure you were falling in love with this green eyed God of a man, and hoped that it didn’t put a damper on the holiday fun he had planned for the two of you.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

@tatted-trina6

@anaelsbrunette

@hayleeharling

@flamencodiva

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@dirty-pan-goblin

@itmejado

@supernatural3002

@teresa-67

@thoughts-and-funnies

@hearteyes-j2

@miss-nerd95

@writers-whirlwind

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@bobbie3939

Twelve Days Of Christmas Tag List:

@440mxs-wife

#Dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester x you #x reader inserts #dean winchester fanfciton #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester series #dean x reader #dean x you #dean series #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #jensen ackles

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph! How you’re doing? First of all, I wanna say that I love your lists. So, I was wondering, do you have some long Johnlock fics? Like, with a bunch of chapters and all that. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

I absolutely do! And you know what?? I’m gonna be selfish: No one has ever EVER asked me for my shorter long fics, so I’m going to take this opportunity to finally release this list, because it’s been sitting in my drafts for YEARS lol. BUT you can check the list below for the links to all my longer-fics lists! Happy reading!!

NOVELLA LENGTH FICS: 20-25K

See also:

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K Pt 2 (May 2020)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. Pt 2 (Aug 2020)

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w., 7 Ch. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson's urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w., 1 Ch. || Texting, Humour, Post S2) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w., 6 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He's charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w., 20 Ch. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w., 8 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty's plans? John's supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w. 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

The One With the Proposal by kim47 (E, 22,375 w., 3 Ch. || Fluff, Romance, Marriage Proposal) – Proposing shouldn't be this difficult.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

Dear John by wendymarlowe (E, 23,031 w., 64 Ch. || Post-TRF, Online Dating, Pining, Epistolary, Cybersex, Long Distance Romance) – With Sherlock dead, John eventually (under duress) makes a profile on an online dating site. And falls into a long-distance relationship with an enigmatic partner who reminds him of Sherlock in all the right ways. (Hint: it turns out to be Sherlock.) Part 1 of Dear John

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

Once Upon a Beast Becoming by antietamfalls (T, 24,042 w., 6 Ch. || Beauty and the Beast AU || Magical Realism, Folklore, Celtic Mythology) – An act of pride, a druid’s curse, an enchanted leaf; Sherlock’s torment has lasted an age. Hope arrives in the form of one John Watson, a man uniquely suited to break the spell. But with a single night to win his affections, Sherlock finds his carefully laid plans disrupted by a monstrous killer whose sights are set on the only thing he has left to lose: John.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

The Sexual Awakening of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson by suitesamba (M, 24,579 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, H/C, First Kiss/Time) – Sherlock owes Mycroft a favor. Mycroft calls in that favor by offering Sherlock's consulting services in a charity auction. Sherlock and John soon find themselves at the country manor of Mrs. Ives-Patton Smarmington III - not very coincidentally a long-time friend of Sherlock's mother - where they are reluctant participants in her Murder Mystery Weekend. It's a play within a play for Sherlock and John, and their roles for the weekend event bleed over into their real lives, waking the sleeping dragons within.

Tomorrow's Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining, Jealous Sherlock) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w., 4 Ch. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #20 to 25k #long fics #Anonymous

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dissident-vedder · 3 years

Text

- the christmas miracle ( 𝐒.𝐆. )

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST!

character a vows to do something nice for a stranger during christmas time. character b is that stranger.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs! prompt by @fanficy-prompts

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

tears pricked at the back of your eyes. here you were, two weeks away from christmas, and still no presents, no decorations, and very little food to even last this week. nina, your six-year-old daughter, kept asking about why christmas hasn’t come yet to your house, but how were you gonna tell her that you were struggling to buy food alone? it seemed like everyone in your apartment building knew of your financial status. they eyed you sadly as you walked down the hallways, making your way to work your one of two jobs, dark undereye bags staining the once skin-toned flesh, nina constantly wondering why you were working and no longer spending time with her as much as you used to.

“i’m here to pick up nina,” you told him. “i’m her mom, mrs. gossard takes care of her in the afternoons.”

“oh!” he smiles at you, “you’re ms. [y/l/n], right?”

“yes, i am!” you smile back.

“come in, she got tired and is taking a nap in the living room,” he opens the door, stepping aside to let you walk in, taking in the pastel pink walls and white wicker furniture. “i’m stone, by the way. i’m mary’s son.”

“you’re the one she always talks about!” you brightly smile at him, causing him to blush lightly, sheepishly bowing his head. “she’s really proud of you, you know.”

“she’s always like that with her children,” stone laughs lightly, scratching the back of his neck. the pale color of his skin complimented his eyes, making them appear brighter in the white light of his mother’s living room.

“mama?” nina’s soft voice called from the couch. her small fist rubbed roughly against her eyelids, rubbing the sleep out of them as she pushed her upper body up to a sitting position. “hi,” you replied tenderly, making your way to her, her arms stretching out to allow you to pick her up easily. she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist, burying her head into the side of your neck, sighing gingerly, taking in the scent of the perfume you always wore. you turned back to stone, “is your mom home?” you pulled a small wad of money from your pocket, wanting to pay her for taking care of nina for however long she has been taking care of her for. “i’d like to give her this.” you pushed it towards stone, who gently put his hand over yours, pushing it back towards you.

“my mom won’t take your money,” he smiled delicately. “she understands, don’t worry about it.”

“but -”

“no buts,” he shook his head, making his way into the kitchen, picking up the platter from the counter. “she also wanted me to give you this, if you came over while she was at her doctor’s appointment.”

“thank you,” you freed one of your hands from nina, planning to take the glassware from him.

“no,” he puts it back down on the counter again, hands outstretched to take nina. “i’ll help you take it home.” he smiles softly again. swapping nina for the pie plate, moving towards the door, eyeing nina as she rested her head on stone’s shoulder. her faint snores restarted, causing the man’s heart to slowly turn to mush as he rested his cheek on her head. your heart swelled, opening the door to his mom’s apartment. nina’s estranged father was never in the picture, and seeing a strange man cuddle her softly to his chest as he helped you really brought both sadness and want into your heart.

you wanted nina to experience what having a father was like, but you barely had time for her, let alone another person. you walk to your apartment in silence, fearful that nina would wake up from her nap if you were too loud for her liking; she was always a light sleeper, something she gained from her dad, who was always sleeping with one eye open. you always wondered why, seeing that the neighborhood the two of you lived in was relatively safe.

most of seattle was.

taking your key and unlocking your door, you lead stone to nina’s room, the princess themed bedspread thrown haphazardly across her bed, a few barbies and kens laying about the floor in front of her dresser. he gingerly placed her down, unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down her legs before moving the bedspread to cover her up to her chin. you smiled at the sight before going to the kitchen, placing down the pie plate on the counter next to your stove. the sound of heavy steps alerted you of his presence, “i have to go, it’s almost the end of my mom’s appointment and i had to drive her down there.”

“alright,” you told him. “thank you for helping me with nina, i appreciate it.”

“no problem, it was a nice break from the music business,” he beams, chuckling a little. “well, hopefully i’ll see you later!” he waves at you before walking away, opening the door to your apartment.

“hopefully,” you hugged your arms around yourself.

you had noticed a piece of paper on nina’s nighttable, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was stone’s phone number with a messily scrawled, “call me :).”

you did, the next day, and since then the two of you spoke and laughed at his jokes, him telling you stories of his childhood, his adventures across the world, the stress of being in a famous band. you feared telling him of your financial struggles and the struggle of trying to make enough money to get nina some presents. however, what you did not know, was that mary had told him of your problems and his plan to help you out with it.

it was the night of christmas eve, and nina had fallen asleep after throwing a small crying fit, wondering how 1. santa was going to be able to come to your home since it was in an apartment building (this was an ongoing thing for the past three years) and 2. why the christmas tree still wasn’t up. “he’s not going to come here if he can’t see the tree!” she cried, letting you hold her close, rubbing the back of her head as you calmed her down.

sitting in your living room with a book on your lap, your heart continued to beat wildly against your chest. you bought her very few things, most of which were small and it would make her a little disappointed, and at the same time break you heart as she would go back to school and talk about how the other kids got bigger and better things.

a small knock on your door caused you to freeze, eyes wide as you thought of what could happen. a burglar waiting for you to be dumb and open the door? mary coming over to bring some food? all bad thoughts crossed your mind until you heard, “it’s stone!” coming from the outside.

what was stone doing here at. . . you glanced at the clock in the kitchen, 4 in the morning? you put down the book, upside down as to keep your spot, and made your way to the door, still confused at why he was here. you unlocked the door and when you saw the christmas tree box - amongst other things - sitting at his feet, you gasped. “what is this, stone?”

“it’s for you and nina,” he smiled. “now, come on, it’s cold.” the two of you laughed, taking the time to pick up the boxes and transferring them into the warmth of your apartment, and as each box came in, you noticed that a few were already wrapped and ready to be placed under the christmas tree, one of which was wrapped in a different paper than the others. stone noticed you looking at it. “it’s for you.”

it took the two of you half an hour to put up the tree and place the presents underneath, and once it was done, you were able to fall asleep peacefully, you and stone passing out on the cushions of your sofa. “mama!” nina’s cries pierced through the thick veils of sleep and woke you and stone up. “santa came!” you peered at her through your eyelashes, seeing her angelic face brighten up as she saw the many presents placed at the bottom of the lit tree.

“open them,” you insisted, trying to sit up with some difficulty, soon noticing stone’s head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped lazily around your middle. you haven’t seen her this happy, you noted, hand making its way into stone’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. he hums softly, watching the girl tear through the first box, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips as she realizes it’s the victorian purple barbie house she’s been pestering you for months and something you complained to stone about.

“nina,” you caught her attention, “can you give me that box, please? it has my name on it.” you caught the neatly scrawled [y/n] on the top. she snatches up from the floor, running over to you, placing it in your outstretched hand before going back to her own. “what is this, stone?”

“open it,” he nods to it.

you tear the paper, letting the pieces drop to the floor, seeing a flat velvet box come into view. written on top of it was ‘gucci’. opening it, an aged gold butterfly necklace stares back at you from the confines of the white cardboard interior, and peaking from behind it, a gold-colored debit card sat. “it currently has a few thousand dollars in it,” stone informs you. “and it’s attached to my bank acount, as well, so now you and nina are dependents.”

“stone, i can’t take this,” you begin to protest.

“why not?” he picked himself up from your stomach, glacing at you from above. “it’s my money and i get to choose what i want to do with it. and i want to help you and nina. there’s only one condition.”

“and what’s that?”

taking a short glance towards your daughter, who was too busy tearing open the last few of her presents, he lowers himself against you, face turning towards yours before he presses his lips softly on yours. “just be my girlfriend. that’s all i ask.”

you nod. “always.”

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder @state-of-love-and-lust @honeysympathy

#pearl jam #stone gossard #stone gossard wallpaper #stone gossard x reader #stone gossard smut #stone gossard imagine

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kiegosbby · 4 years

Text

hawks x f!reader

chapter 8 I think. I’m sorry guys itll get better I promiseeee

word count: 1.6k

warnings: drinking, and just making poor decisions

✁- - - - - - r- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

when you finished your work you left quickly trying to avoid talking to him any further.

You stopped at a liquor store. This wasn't your best idea. But In the moment, you needed it badly.

you never really drank before, not knowing what to buy so you bought vodka. People drink that straight right?

she bought her bottle and put it in a paper bag, having to keep her hero appearance.

she flew home and sat down on her couch. She popped the cap off and chugged it. It burned as it went down. She thought it would be worse it tasted like medicine. Kind of.

She looked across the room and saw her phone. She was now slightly tipsy, she stood up and walked over to her phone. Picking it up it was slightly cracked but it still worked. You turned it on and while you waited, chugged some more because why the hell not?

as your phone turned on you saw all the messages hawks had left you.

10+ plus new messages from: Birdy ❤️🐔

"Tch.."

Birdy ❤️🐔

Hey baby bird I'm sorry about last night I probably seem like a dick.

Birdy ❤️🐔

I had to help endeavour on a case and I couldn't say no. Please let me make it up to you

Birdy ❤️🐔

I still owe you ice cream even if you don't wanna go out anymore

Birdy ❤️🐔

Don't forget that you have to come to my agency tomorrow and fill out some paperwork and set your office up

Birdy ❤️🐔

Angel where are you? Your 10 minutes late

Birdy ❤️🐔

Angel I'm starting to worry it's been a hour. Please just let me know that your ok

Birdy ❤️🐔

Y/n please text me. Im worried and I swear if anything happened to you I'll kill someone

Birdy ❤️🐔

Don't make me go to your apartment. I will don't test me.

Birdy ❤️🐔

angel please reply

Birdy ❤️🐔

Angel? Please..

Birdy ❤️🐔

I'm about to go to your apartment. I don't know which numbers yours but I'll go through the whole building if I have to.

well now you felt like a bitch.

It was still mean for him to do that to her. But maybe she should forgive him. he apologized and he seemed like he actually cared.

You decided to call him and talk to him. Maybe apologize? Ask him what his favourite drink is. Alcohol is good you should do this more often.

you pressed the call button and took a big swig of your drink getting ready to talk.

"Angel hello?"

"Hey hawks" you slurred your words slightly. "I wanted to call you because it's so difficult to type! The buttons are so little and I keep messing up. Now I know what your thinking, she's drunk right? Well no actually I'm just a little tipsy. Oh! I forgot to say what I was calling about. I wanted to apologize, I was being a total bitch don't you think?" You took a quick swig and went back to talking "but you were kinda mean to me. But I liked you! I even bought a fucking dress for you. And I don't do dresses. Believe that? I got all dressed up for you. And you never showed. But hero duties are more important than anything" you took another swig "damn this shit is strong!"

He sat there trying to take in everything she had just said. To be fair it was a lot to handle. " Y/n your drunk why are you drinking?"

"Because why the hell not?" She said and laughed

"You want to apologize I want to apologize to face to face."

"Come over them Birdy I need some company I can't finish this big bottle all by myself." At this point you really couldn't think straight. This was 100% a bad idea but did you care? Absolutely not.

"Y/n your drunk we should talk tomo-"

"No come over nowwww pleaseeeeeeee" you whined

he sighed "Ok leave the balcony open I'll land there."

"Yay! I'll be waiting for you im so excited!"

You quickly hung up and went to wait for him on the balcony. You sat with your legs crossed and kept drinking. You got up and looked over the ledge. Damn that was a farrr drop. You stumbled a little leaning a little to far, and almost fell until you felt a warm pair of hands wrap around your waist. "Are you fucking crazy kid? Do you have a death wish?"

You started laughing "oh my god I almost fell good thing I have wings. You saved me! Your like my knight in shining armor" you smiled and went to take another swig only to have him take it away from you.

He looked at the bottle. "You drank almost half of this already! Are you crazy? Oh my god come on" he lead you inside trying to figure the layout of your house. He went into your kitchen and got you a water bottle from your fridge.

"Here drink this your gonna need it. Let's go sit down ok?" He lead you to the couch, you almost fell a couple times but with his help you made it.

"Hawksssss"

"Yes angel" he looked over to you, you were both now sitting on the couch, and he was trying to make sure you did nothing stupid.

"Thank you for coming I was sooo lonely. And I'm sorry for this morning I was being a big poopy head" you said and at the end you stuck your bottom lip out and gave him puppy eyes.

"It's no problem angel. I would always help a friend in need more matter what. And you don't have to apologize it was mostly my fault I was being a dumb bird and messed it up." He said looking at you with guilt. You felt bad honestly. But what stuck the most was when he said he would always help a friend..

"I wish we were more then friends I really liek you.." you slurred and went on "your really cute to. And your wings are so pretty I just wanna touch them. Can I touch them?" You asked already reaching out to them

"Of course baby bird just be careful you have wings to so you'll know how it feels." He pulled his wings further out so that you could reach them easily. He was a little scared only a few other people had touched his wings. And they had never been drunk before. His wings were quite sensitive, he was touch starved and that made it feel amazing when someone touched his wings.

You leaned in and touched the middle of his wings first, slowly running your hand over them. You face lit up like a kid opening his presents on Christmas. You raked your hands through his feathers.

"Your feathers are so soft! How do you get them so soft!?" You asked excitedly. Your feathers weren't as soft as his, they'd been through a lot and due to some harsh training were trying to recover still.

"There just n-naturally soft I guess are yours not t-this soft?" He asked as he was trying to keep back his groans. Your fingers felt so good rubbing against his feathers.

"They were but after bad training there not as soft anymore. Want to feel?" She asked excitedly, taking her hands away. He tried to hide his disappointment, and shook his head yes.

she pulled her wings out, giving off a soft glow as her quirk made her. He reached out to his hands. He softly touched the tip of her wings. She sat back and relaxed feeling calm at the touches he was giving her. It was way better then the little kids that tugged on her wings when she had them out.

"What kind of training did this? There still soft just seem like they've been through a lot.."

"Well it was a really rainy day. And they were working me so hard. We were in a empty field and I was paired with one of the higher ranks, so I had to try my hardest. They thought I was weak so they pushed me a little to far, until my wings were covered with mud and all the nasty shit on the ground."

He had a apologetic look on his face as he continued to stroke your wings. "Who's they?"

"I-oh I don't really tell many people but when my parents had found out I had wings, they had to report it to the government, who wanted to put me in intense training from when I was just 4. I knew how to kill someone before I knew how to write my own name correctly. I've heard you went through the same if I'm correct?" Y/n was almost surprisingly sober now.

"Yeah it's not something I like to talk about. I'm sorry they put you through that. Me and you are more alike then we seem arnt we?" He asked while taking his hand away from your wings.

you internally sighed in disappointment when he took his hand away. "I guess we might be. C-can we watch a movie or something?" She asked hoping he would stay just a little longer.

"Only if I can still take you to get ice cream soon?" He asked testing the waters to see if she was still mad.

"Of course you bird brain." She grabbed the remote and turned on {favourite movie}.

"Oh I love this movie!" He said with excitement as he got comfortable next to you.

You smiled looking at him. You were no longer mad but thought if this went on would that happen again? Would he handle it differently? As the thoughts were running through your mind, you felt the heaviness of sleep washing over you. You closed your eyes and let it involve you.

Hawks POV

I turned to check on y/n, and as I turned she was just falling asleep. Her head slowly made its way into my shoulder. I blushed slightly. Y/n was beautiful. Even with her hair a mess she was still pretty to him.

As he was admiring her, she moved in her sleep, grabbing his arm and hugging it as she slept.

'God she's perfect'

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littlekatleaf · 3 years

Text

Buried in a burning flame is love and its decisive pain (end)

Holy shitballs. Pretty close to exactly a year ago I got this idea - Junkrat and Roadhog have Christmas with some of the Overwatch crew. It was gonna be short and sweet and fluffy. I started writing in... February? 10 months and 21K words later I ended up with something almost entirely different. Oops? Thanks for joining me on the ride! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Meds and tea and whiskey and food and mitten and probably a bit of fever still and the lingering feel of Roadie’s hand on his forehead all swirled together into an edgy excitement that made his blood fizz in his veins. Twitchy, itchy. Been looking forward to setting off the fireworks for months - been working them up that long and planning even longer. Had to get it all just right, then combine it with Lucio’s music, get the timing connected to the right shapes, the explosions to the right second… had to be focused, had to be precise and he loved the challenge. The sparks of thrill tingled along his spine and the fire they ignited burned away the lingering crud of sickness leaving him sharp and clear.

He enlisted Hana and Lucio to round up the others, betting they’d be able to convince anyone who was reluctant much better than he would. Even so, he was urging them down to the lake, torches bobbing through the dark, throwing odd shadows between the trees. Maybe talking a little faster than usual but how else was he going to impress upon them how exciting this was?

“Know it’s cold - hadn’t really thought about that when I was planning. I mean, hadn’t planned to be here at all, just thought we’d be at the Watchpoint. Course, this is better, discounting the cold. Which is hard to do, but Roadie’s getting the bonfire goin’ - he could light a fire in the middle of a monsoon so no worries on that count. An’ Hana brought some whiskey to help so she’ll be right. Ya need to stand here, no closer. Gonna be over the water. Safe as houses, but can’t be too careful - least according to Morrison, ha! Now turn off the torches. Better the darker it is. Lucky ain’t moonrise yet…”

“What are we doing out here in the middle of the night when we could be curled up on the couch?” Mei asked no one in particular.

Junkrat ignored her. She’d see, they’d all see and he knew they’d love it just as much as he did if they gave it a chance. Lucio had been kind enough to not only have his sound system set up, but also brought out the box of fireworks so Junkrat didn’t have to lug it himself.

Didn’t take but a minute to set it all up, music on automatic once he started the program. All he had to do was hit the power and light the first fuse.

Music came up slow, soft, bit of piano, then edge of something electronic, rising bass and the first firework streaked up to the center of the sky and as the beat kicked in it exploded in a rain of silver and gold. At the crackling boom the others fell silent, faces tilted to the sky. The sparkles reflected in their eyes and Lucio’s soft ‘oh!’ and Hana’s squeal of delight made even the cold worthwhile.

Let it start slow. Basic colors, red, blue, green, as well as the gold and silver. Usual shapes, circles, stars, ones that looked like fountains or willows. Then the music shifted, became rhythmic and complex with a minor edge and he sent the first special rockets. The streaks crisscrossed, intersecting like Satya’s hard light shield, like one of her knit shawls and around it burst snowflakes, all in shades of blue and silver.

Music shifted again, bright and quick - and the second set of his own rockets split the air with a whistling crack then exploded in a crackling red heart, then a gold arrow streamed through. Lena bumped Emily’s hip with her own as their names twined through the heart. Another shift, one of Lucio’s songs, written for Hana and the rockets burst into pink bunnies and green frogs that seemed to bounce up the mountains ringing them and into the stars.

As the music shifted a final time, setting a beat with a swing, Lena grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into a twirl, hands clenched firm but light, feet moving quick, spinning each other in and out and then they were dancing and so were Hana and Lucio and even Mei tugged Satya into the group.

And then - perfect timing, as the music sang “Seeing’ stars, I’m seeing stars” the final bursts of fireworks - his favorite of the bunch - exploded overhead and Junkrat couldn’t stop his grin at the stars he’d created. Spread above him and Roadie was their night sky. The Saucepan and the Crux. Looking right, looking perfect, not upside down like here.

For a long moment Roadhog said nothing, just stood with his face tipped up, sparks reflecting in his mask as the fireworks cracked and popped and the music thumped and the others laughed and danced.

“Thought ya might like a bit of Straya,” Junkrat said finally, unable to wait for Roadhog to say something. Anything. Maybe he hadn’t recognized it after all. Or maybe it wasn't anything like he’d hoped. Maybe it only looked like home because he was remembering it so clearly. Imagining it. Making it all up again. He shoved his hand in his pocket as a gust of wind swept over them and a sneeze slammed into him, followed quickly by two more. “Huh-r’isssh! Isshh! Ishhew!”

Didn’t even hear Roadhog move, but suddenly he was right there, shoving his hat down over Junkrat’s head and then wrapping his scarf around Junkrat’s neck. “Stay warm, idiot.”

“Trying,” he said, shivering still. He let Roadie lead him over to the fire which had grown to a roaring height, pouring out a welcome heat. Pine logs crackled and spat sparks swirling into the sky to swirl with the real stars and their backwards constellations.

Lucio cranked his own mix and the bass echoed off the mountains and Lena and Emily still danced with him and Hana. Mei and Satya huddled together, passing a mug of something between them and for a moment, just for a minute, everything felt fine. Felt good.

Junkrat glanced at Roadhog, and though the mask obscured his expression, there was a looseness in his shoulders, something in the tilt of his head that seemed to speak of relaxation and calm. Made the cold and exhaustion worth it. “Happy Christmas, Roadie.”

“Happy Christmas, Rat.” The warmth in his tone did more to drive away the chill than the fire and Junkrat leaned against his side, letting himself enjoy the closeness.

After a bit, the others joined them around the fire and Lena passed a joint around, “For everyone except you, Junkrat. Sorry.”

He shrugged, pulled a flask out of his pocket. “Not gonna share my plague. Got this anyway.” The whiskey left a warm curl in the center of his belly, his muscles loose and easy. Satya told a story about a Snow Queen whose frozen heart melted with the love of a peasant girl, and though Junkrat wanted to roll his eyes, he understood the feeling. The desire to have one’s own story told in myth - to be connected to something bigger. Lena told a story about Father Christmas. Mei about a Chinese hunter, Jia Deng, who hunted with a pet wolf and left gifts of his hunt with the poor during the cruel months of winter. Then Roadie exhaled a long puff of smoke and said,

“Bet you never heard of the Holiday Boar.”

Junkrat giggled into his scarf. “Ain’t gonna tell that one to this lot, are ya?”

Lena cocked her head quizzically. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well. Long before the Omnium exploded, before the Omnics were even an idea someone had, the Outback was still a hardscrabble place. Dusty and hot and many were desperately poor, trying to eke a living out of land that wasn’t easily giving. One day a wild boar appeared in a village, ribs showing through its skin, hair falling out in patches, it was the most pathetic excuse for a creature the villagers had seen. Most tried to chase it away with kicks and shouts and stones thrown.

“At the edge of the village there was a farmer. He lived alone on the land. When the boar came to his homestead, the farmer’s first reaction was the same as the others - he wanted to chase it away. Nothing good could come of bringing another mouth to feed into his life. But as he raised a hand to throw a stone, he caught a glimpse of the creature’s eyes and his long dead daughter’s voice spoke in his heart. ‘Papa, please.’ His hand fell and he sighed and the boar stayed.

“In the beginning he found it annoying, an intrusion on his solitude. Still, he fed the creature, sharing the little he had, and in return it kept him company, following him like a dog and seeming to listen when he spoke. Come winter the boar was healthy and grown to a surprising size. Villagers who saw it walking with the farmer nodded knowingly - at the first cold snap he’d likely kill it, and the meat could feed them all.

“But the cold came and still the boar walked with the farmer. The villagers eyed them more than a little oddly. Finally, on the longest night of the year, the farmer was sitting by a fire with the boar at his side as usual. The farmer was lamenting that the land had been even more reticent than usual, and he was likely to lose his home to the mortgagers.

“The boar’s stomach gave a great rumble, then it leaned forward and puked up a pile of gold coins onto the ground. The farmer never went hungry again and the village prospered.”

Junkrat couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing.

Hana laughed too, shook her head. “There’s no way that’s a thing.”

“It’s Australia,” Roadhog argued, deadpan voice. “It absolutely is.”

Lucio nodded, took a drag from the joint. “I could see it.”

They told stories and Lucio led them in carols and the warmth of the fire and the whiskey and Roadhog at his side and Lena’s jokes “What do you call a dinosaur fart? A blast from the past! Why does a duck have tail feathers? To cover his butt quack!” and Emily’s laughter lulled Junkrat into a doze.

“He snores louder than a boar,” Satya said, irritably. Lena giggled.

“You gave him your scarf,” Hana said to Roadhog and her tone was equal parts teasing and curious.

Junkrat felt Roadie’s shoulders move in a shrug. “Never takes care of himself, even when he’s sick.” But though he was more than half asleep, he could hear the tight coldness of the comment. The relaxed ease had gone. Junkrat wanted to sit up and interrupt, but he was just so tired.

“Gave him your cold too, huh.” Still that sing-song teasing tone, but it cut at Junkrat.

“Maybe.”

“Come on, Roadhog. What’s up with you two, anyway? He won’t give us a straight answer.”

Felt like everyone’s eyes were on them, staring. Junkrat tensed. Sit up, he told himself. Stop this. But he didn’t. He wanted to know what Roadhog would say, even more than he didn’t want to know.

Roadhog’s shoulder moved in another shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep him from offing himself on accident.”

Mei laughed; least no one else did.

Ice through his body, through his stomach, his mind, his lungs. He coughed against it, but it didn’t move. The fire had burned down to little more than embers and even scarf and hat, mitten and whiskey weren’t enough to keep him warm. He forced himself up then, away from Roadhog. Faked a yawn like he just woke up.

“Knackered. Gonna call it a night. Happy Christmas all.” Forced the words past lips that felt frozen and barely heard the others saying goodnight and thanks for the fireworks.

The moon glowed on the snow, lighting the way back to the cabin enough to keep him from stumbling on tree roots and rocks. His foot crunched softly on pine needles and he heard Roadhog’s louder footfalls behind him. He walked faster. Just wanted to be inside, to be alone, to be warm, to be silent. Even the light of the Christmas tree seemed to mock him with its fake promise of coziness. He’d take a bath, let the water warm his bones, soothe the chills, then sleep.

“When I said ya ain’t gotta babysit me no more, I meant it,” Junkrat said stiffly as Roadhog followed him into the bathroom. “Promise I ain’t gonna drown in the bath. Even I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

“How’re you going to get in and out?” Roadhog asked bluntly.

Junkrat turned to look and of course there were no bars to let him navigate it himself. Once he took off his prosthetics he’d be screwed. Fuck. He pushed past Roadhog and out of the bathroom. Wasn’t worth it.

But the bedroom was just as bad. Wanted to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a century or ten, but Roadhog was standing there in the middle of the room taking up all of the space and all of the air and Junkrat knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with his… looming. Instead he shoved the pillows to the head of the cot and sat against the wall, wrapping a blanket around himself. Just barely resisted pulling it over his head, too. Knew Roadie would stare and it was making him jittery. Not in a good way. His head ached again, skin tight with the too hot too cold feeling of returning fever. Should have asked Lucio for more meds. He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing for relief. Wishing for Roadie’s hand on his forehead again, cool and firm and steadying.

“Gonna tell me what’s eating you?” Roadhog asked, finally. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked down at Junkrat from his full height. Not exactly the most inviting posture.

“What are we?” The question spilled from him like he was vomiting. “An’ don’t give me some stupid shit like you don’t know what I mean. Hana asks and Lucio asks and you avoid the question.”

“Why do we need to put words to it? Why do they need to know anything?”

Junkrat shrugged. It wasn’t for them that he needed words. It was him. He needed a foundation, an understanding. Because things were slippery and they could slide away from him before he had a chance to catch hold. “It’s me askin’. Now that ya ain’t my bodyguard. What are we?”

A long pause, a silence full of all the things Roadhog didn’t say.

“Morrison said I could leave,” Junkrat blurted, unable to stand it.

Roadhog waited.

“Said if this do-gooder shit was too bloody difficult he’d have Lena turn me in. Serve my time and then whatever came next was my choice.”

No response.

“Told him I’d have to talk to you about it, but he said just meant me. I been thinkin...’ we should do it. Could probably convince him to let you go too. Then when we were far enough away could hijack the Orca, dump Lena and head back to Straya. Head home. Get the treasure, sell it to the Queen and find a place to just… live.” He blinked and the after-image of fireworks burst across his vision, constellations in all their permutations. Home. Was it? Didn’t really know anymore… But maybe there it wouldn’t be so hard, maybe there it would be like it had been.

Still no response, no movement at all. Like Roadhog’d turned to stone. Mountain. Felt his gaze go cold, measuring, calculating. Had seen Roadhog turn that gaze on others, size them up, find them lacking… but not on himself. He froze. Utterly still. Waited for the judgment to fall. Then Roadhog laughed. Not like something was funny, or maybe like he was funny and the sound was brittle and sharp in his ears.

“What’s so bloody funny, mate?” and his own voice held an edge.

“The idea that I would want to leave this,” he gestured around the room, taking in everything, “give up the good thing I got going here to… what? Live out some tiny shit life in that hellhole with you? Why the fuck do you think I’d want to go back to that? And with you?” He positively roared with laughter. “You are thick as a rock. Batshit crazy. A complete mess. Sure, when there wasn’t anyone else around who wasn’t trying to kill me, you were good for a laugh. A way to get my rocks off. But in the real world? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you too.” The words scraped his throat and he wished he had covered his head because he had that ominous prickling behind his eyes like he was going to fucking cry, or sneeze, and either way he was fucking well not going to give Roadhog the satisfaction.

“You want to know what we are, Junkrat? We ain’t shit. Nothing. Do what you want, stay or go. I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit.”

“Well that’s fuckin’ clear as crystal. Why don’t you fuck off then an’ let me sleep.” He grit his teeth, bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tasted iron. Not going to crumble. Watched as Roadhog turned and crossed the room. Watched the door click shut behind him. Watched the blank wall and refused to let himself crack. Silence then, that he’d wanted. But no warmth. Even wrapped in blankets felt like he was sitting in a snowstorm. Everything muffled and frozen. Freezing.

Then that chuckle in his head. You got an answer. Might not have been the one you wanted, but really Jamison, what did you expect? Did you honestly think he would go back to an irradiated waste land and a criminal life to be with you?

He thumped his head back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his fist so hard his nails bit into his palm. Shut it. Ain’t real.

No? So make me be silent, then. More laughter. Oh Jamison. How do you think someone would want to be with you when your own mother couldn’t stand to be with you?

You don’t know nothing ‘bout my mum, he told her. Nothing. But a couple tears leaked free, and the tingling prickles made him sneeze and he buried his head in the blankets and let himself go until he fell asleep, her laughter and Roadhog’s laughter still ringing in his head.

Sleep was restless, part of him kept jerking awake thinking he heard the door open. He hadn’t. When he finally woke completely he felt like he’d been hit by the ute, then had it back over him again. He stumbled out to the living room where he found Hana and Lucio playing a game with Emily, and Mei and Satya watching.

“Morning, Junkrat,” Lucio said.

“More like afternoon,” Hana corrected.

“Potato potahto,” Lucio shrugged. “Wanna join? You can play winner.”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, tried to sound nonchalant. “Where’s Roadie?”

“Apparently Morrison sent him on some mission. Something going on in Australia. Lena took him early this morning,” Satya said. “Guess you didn’t go ‘cause you’re sick?” Hana asked.

“Yeah. Something like that.” His head went light. Hadn’t thought Roadhog would actually leave. Take the treasure for himself and go… but there it was. He made his way into the kitchen on a floor that seemed to rock like a boat. Opened the sat comm with numb fingers.

“Morrison.” “It’s Fawkes. I’ll take your offer. I want to turn myself in.”

#oversnez #snezfic #constitutionally incapable of writing shortfic #this fic took me out behind the barn and shot me in the head #what you doing Roadie??#Merry Fuckin' Christmas

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creamypudding · 3 years

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Woeful WIP Wednesday

I last touched this WIP in August 2020. It was for the AkuRoku beard event I had tried to get underway for World Beard Day which is annually on September 1st. I never finished the story because it was getting very technical with beard related care products and a lot of sex. Like a lot of it. I have notes where they fuck each other like 4 times? On the couch, in the shower, in bed. I don’t know why I stopped writing it. It’s outlined but I ran out of steam and interest. As much as I am a smut-writing champion you’d be surprised how often I write stories only to run completely out of steam once I get to the smut. Go figure. In this story Axel and Roxas are in a long distance relationship and have a wager on who can grow the better beard. It is rated T and stops a bit before the ‘good stuff’ was going to happen. Word count - 2385 If you enjoy this, or any of the other WIP’s it would be great if you would let me know. Cheers.

Homecoming

The date, time, and location were set; 1st April, 6pm, Olga's—a favorite haunt of their family and friends’, and the best place to get Polish sausages. Roxas stood a little way down the road from the establishment, his two suitcases; a small one stacked on top of the large one, in hand as he looked at his reflection in his phone's camera. He brushed at his Banholz beard; big, bushy and grew to about his mid-chest. He had oiled, brushed, trimmed, and shaped it to look its best, for today was a monumental day. 6 months ago he had been dared to grow a beard by his boyfriend, Axel. Roxas had agreed but only if they would have a competition to see who could grow the best beard, to be judged by a panel of their relations and peers.

Roxas thought himself ready and walked on, wheeling his suitcases along behind himself. This competition was the precise reason why Roxas now entered the cozy restaurant. It had been booked out for the occasion and was filled with family and friends who all greeted Roxas with raucous cheers of—

“Roxas! You’re back!”

“Good to see you!”

“Is that really you under there?”

“Axel! Axel, your competition has arrived!”

The suitcases were tugged away from Roxas and the throng of people around him cleared revealing, there, across the space, standing at the head of a banquet table laden with bigos, golonka, pierogi, schabowy, placki, pączki and a range of drinks like compotes, oranżada, piwo, and żubrówka, was Axel in familiar jeans and a black shirt with flame motifs that Roxas had bought him as a gift two years ago. They looked at each other across the space.

Voices sang out, praising the magnificent beards they both sported.

Roxas saw Axel’s thick, dark beard; a Bandholz, like his own. They walked toward each other and stopped in the middle of the floor. Roxas craned his neck to look up, Axel smirked down.

“You look like a real Viking,” Axel said.

“You look like a mismatched pirate. Didn’t feel like dyeing your beard?”

“It’s too much red. Makes me look like a tomato. I’ll show you the photos of when I tried.” “Cool.”

They grinned at each other and Axel threw his arms around Roxas, lifting him off the ground in a tremendous hug. Roxas’ face got smothered in the scratchy beard but he still giggled and when he dropped back to the ground hooked his hands around Axel’s neck and gave him a chaste peck on the lips.

They pulled apart laughing a little.

“That’s something new to get used to,” Axel commented, rubbing his lips.

Roxas nodded and threaded his fingers through Axel’s.

“Come on everyone,” Sora, Roxas’ half-brother, shouted over the crowd. “Now that both our competitors are here let's get the judging going and then eat!” Cheers of enthusiasm rose and Axel and Roxas were ushered before the panel.

Roxas and Axel were examined in turn, their beards evaluated for physical appearance: thickness, length, feel. And then for popularity, which opened up to the entire group of assembled people.

Roxas grinned up wildly as he was crowned Beard King and received a victory parade amongst the shoulders of his friends to wild chanting before he was dropped on his ‘throne’, which was just a high backed chair in the middle of the banquet table laid out. He was presented with an enormous hamper of goodies relating to beard care and then Axel took his seat next to Roxas and everyone joined in on eating all the delicious food before them.

Much talk was had over dinner regarding Roxas’ time away—as he studied in a different state and only came back home over the summer and Christmas breaks. He was caught up in everyone else’s lives as well and then after three hours of eating, chatting, and boozing, wished everyone a good night as well as thanking everyone for crowning him king and coming out, and then he wheeled his luggage to Axel’s red Kia Cerato coup parked at the restaurants car park and got in to go back to their place.

“What does my liege want to do when we get home?” Axel asked, fondling the tip of Roxas’ beard as he drove along the street.

“I want to go through that basket of goodies with you, play with your beard, and play with you. I’ve missed you so much.” Roxas clasped Axel’s hand and rubbed it against his cheek.

Axel stroked him when he stopped his rubbing motion. “At least we get three long months of being together until you have to go back to college.” Roxas groaned. “It’s going to be so good, even when I do have to go back because we’ll be able to video call and won’t have to keep this beard stuff a secret from one another anymore.”

Axel nodded. “Yeah. If I had known what we were getting into I might not have agreed to this. Six months is too long without seeing your… well… rugged face. I can’t really call you pretty now, can I? I didn’t actually believe you’d look so much older with a beard.” “C’mon, you didn’t even think I could grow one. Not that I know why. You’ve seen dad, he’s always had a really respectable circle beard.” Axel shrugged. “I guess I look at your baby face and just… could never picture it.” “I’ll make sure we take a lot of photos so you’ll never forget. Have I shown you photos of dad from when he didn’t have a beard? I get my baby face from him. Underneath his beard, you’d think he’s twenty years younger than he is.” “Can’t say I’ve seen those. So when you’re fifty you’ll look thirty?”

“You know it. I can be your baby-faced sugar-daddy.” Roxas cracked up laughing at Axel’s bewildered scowl.

“For one, you are only two years older than me, and two, at this moment I’m your sugar-daddy since I work.” “True, but once I finish my degree and start working I’ll make so much money that you’ll be able to go part-time and look after our fur-babies.”

A strangled noise left Axel’s throat. “This is why I love you so much. You’re willing to protect me from a grueling working life.” Axel quickly leaned over, Roxas also leaned in and they shared a small kiss.

Roxas giggled. “So tickly and hairy.” ----------------------------------------------------

They arrived at their small cottage-esque house which they were renting. It had an undercover carport, a disheveled wooden fence, dry grassy patches, and a dead flowerbed. The door opened up right to their living room. A hallway ran through the door on the right, leading to the two bedrooms, and bathroom, with a separate toilet, and to the left of the living room was a door which led to the kitchen and laundry. Their backyard was an overgrown monstrosity which Axel only tended to when the landlords came around for inspections. The house was drafty, they were pretty sure black mold grew in the vents in the laundry and bathroom, but it was affordable, small, and let them live together when Roxas came home over college breaks.

Axel helped Roxas get his bags out of the car, they stowed them away to deal with later and sat on their plush, tan faux-leather couch whilst rifling through the content of the prize basket.

“It was really nice of everyone to pitch in and get us this gift basket,” Axel said, pulling out a beard-care kit consisting of several brushes, some oils and waxes, and a few trimming essentials.

“What do you mean us? This is mine.” Roxas glared, but he couldn't repress the bubbling-inside grin.

“You're really gonna use all of this Beard Candy and King of Wood all by yourself?” Axel held up the respectively named balm tin and oil bottle.

Both of them giggled.

“I might.” Roxas grabbed for the bottle. “I am king of wood.”

“You're more candy, darling.” Axel snatched the bottle and shoved the tin at Roxas.

Roxas gasped with playful offended. “Not true. I am King Beard. Everyone thinks so. We had a vote, remember?”

“We did. You really want to keep all this to yourself though?”

“Nah. WHat’s mine is yours—Oooo! There’s dye and glitter!”

Axel looked at the packets Roxas held up and went diving into the basket. “Ribbons too. Who do you reckon snuck this stuff in?”

Roxas thought for a moment humming and hawing.

“Sora!” they both shouted in unison and cracked up laughing.

Axel put the items he held down and got up. “You want anything, babe? Tea? Hot chocolate? Water?”

“A tall drink of something hot and sweet.” Roxas made eyes at Axel, who grinned broadly.

A spark of lust ignited in Axel’s eyes. He stepped close to Roxas, bent down and kissed him, pushing him against the couch. The hairs against Roxas’ lips tickled. He wrapped his arms around Axel’s shoulders, pulling them chest to chest and Axel climbed up to straddle Roxas’ lap. Roxas pushed his tongue into Axel, who sucked gently. Both of them hummed and pulled apart.

“I do actually want a drink though,” Roxas sniggered.

“On its way, sugarplum.” Axel slid off and headed to the kitchen.

Roxas’ cheeks were plump and hot from all the smiling. He had missed Axel so much. He listened to Axel banging away in the kitchen, as taps turned on and off, drawers and cupboards opened and shut, and container lids popped in and out of place. Roxas kept looking through the goodies in the basket. He really appreciate everyone's support, but most of all Axel's for doing this with him—even if they were pitted against each other.

Axel talked to him from the kitchen. They talked about Roxas’ flight home, Axel's job and then Axel was back, carrying a tall mug of steaming liquid, gasped with whipped cream. He set that down on a coaster before Roxas and put a much more sensibly succeed mug down for himself, filled with what smelled like chili tea.

“It's so good to have your back, babe.” Axel leaned over and kissed Roxas, who cupped Axel’s cheek and stoked along where skin met beard. Roxas could taste the light spice on Axel's lips as he had been sipping his tea before he had come in.

Axel left small touches on Roxas’ arms, trailing up to his neck where slender fingers caressed and rubbed. Roxas melted into the touch and hungered with his kissing of his boyfriend.

Axel pulled away, licking his lips. “Have your drink. I slaved over it.”

“Oh, what hard work it was to push buttons, wait for water to boil, and open the fridge to get whipped cream out.”

“It was the hardest. I had to do it all without you there.”

Axel was being ridiculous but it twinged in Roxas’ heart. “Okay, I retract my previous sarcastic remark.” He grabbed his drink, snuggled closer to Axel, and licked at the cream and sipped, humming with appreciation.

Axel looked down at Roxas and simply said, “Yum.”

Roxas huffed out a small laugh and felt his cheeks turning pink. He was glad for his beard.

“You're giving me all sorts of ideas looking like that.” Axel quirked an eyebrow.

Roxas’ stomach knotted. Having been debited their webcam sessions made him feel excessively deprived of his boyfriend touch. “Kiss me.”

Axel obliged, leaning down, sucking Roxas’ lip onto his mouth for brief moments and then flicking his tongue over Roxas to lip, licking the cream off which gathered in his beard.

Roxas held his drink away from the both of them and gently pulled on the end of Axel's beard, drawing the other man in for another kiss. Roxas pulled away then, humming. “I've missed you, babe. Let's never have a comp like this again.”

“Your beard as itchy as mine feels?” Axel scratched at his chin.

Roxas chuckled. “No. It feels pretty good, but I mean the not being able to see each other bit.”

“Ahh, yeah. Agreed. I mean, this,” he brushed the fuzzy edge of Roxas’ beard, “is actually surprisingly attractive on you, but I get what you mean.” Axel leaned in and hushed against Roxas’ love, “Your voice in my ear is honey to me but seeing you touching yourself is my bread and butter.” Axel kissed Roxas behind his ear, making him shiver.

Roxas nuzzled Axel's cheek, making them both giggle because their beards tickled.

Axel clapped Roxas’ thigh. “C'mon, let's do some beard stroking and grooming. I want my beard to look like Nori from the Hobbit. Which dwarf do you want to be?”

Roxas laughed. They had been talking about the wacky beards of the dwarves from that movie trilogy for at least two months now. “Gloin. His beard is magnificent!, plus, I found a packet of beads at the bottom of the basket.”

Axel nodded. “All right, my glorious Norse God. Let's doll each other up.”

Roxas giggled with delight.

They spent the next two hours taking turns combing and braiding each other's beards. Roxas split Axel's dark, silky beard into three prongs, found done large clasps to target the end and hair-sprayed the shit out of the two outer parts of the beard to make them stand stiff and jut out from Axel's face.

Then it was Roxas’ turn. Axel sectioned parts off, braiding and beading the thick, wiry hair into the desired shape.

They shared many kisses throughout and traversed down memory lane as they recalled the early days of growing out their beards and how itchy the first few weeks were. Thinking about it made both of them itch.

When their beards were all finished they took a photo as a keepsake.

“Are you sure you want to shave off our chin-curtains tomorrow?” Axel asked, touching Roxas’ dark blond hair.

Roxas burst out laughing. “Chin-curtains? Are you getting attached to yours? You've been doing nothing but complaining about it for months.”

“Well, I like all the touching. I like us sitting together and doing each other.” Axel couldn't keep a straight face as he said that.

Roxas rolled his eyes as he smiled brightly. “We can still touch each other no matter what.” He slid an arm around Axel's waist.

#akuroku #akrk #beard #wip #woeful wip wednesday #cream pudding writes

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sargentr · 4 years

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my fave drarry fics of all time, part one

so, after discovering i’ve officially been reading drarry fanfic for 4 years now, i decided to show my (quite big) list of favorite drarry fics. there are 46 in total, but i’ve listed 10 down below. the first three are my absolute favorites but the rest are equally as good

most of my notes are fresh from when i wrote them post-reading. i’ve changed some, seeming less like a crazy unstable bitch, but fuck these were all emotional as fuck. enjoy

ps: i dont really know how to tag people i dont follow. i cant try and tag the authors later. soz!!

pps: most of these i read when i was really into a bottom!draco phase, so most of them contain that, some are switch tho (as it should be, yikes past me)

1. Everything That Happen is From Now On / ~43K

After surviving a brutal assault, Draco tries to navigate the tumultuous waters of his mind, and embrace a bit of love and trust in his life. After all, the smallest steps forward can begin to heal the most fractured of souls

okay so before i get in to how beautiful this story is, i wanna say that it does touch on rape quite explicitly. i cried like an idiot reading the entire thing, because draco’s pain is navigated in the most beautiful and realistic way. it touches on a subject very risky for me, very personal, and i still can’t think of a better drarry story. draco’s very draco about it all, and harry is very harry about it all. it’s just perfect, and messy, and tender, and sad. i’ve reread it more than any other fic, and it doesn’t disappoint.

2. Pocket Full of Starlight / ~46K

When Scorpius Malfoy and Jamie Potter meet at Quidditch camp, they take an instant dislike to each other. Then they discover their lives are more connected than they could possibly imagine.

ah yes. the magic of kid fics. the TASTE

parent trap au. i read this one recently, like 3 months back, and absolutely fell in love with everything about it, partially because the parent trap is legit one of my top 10 favorite movies of all time. its just. the essence, the IDEA, is soooo mf beautiful. i cant get enough of reading when harry or draco finally meet the other twin, or how they cant stop loving each other even after 11 years. my heart clenched throughout the whole thing.

3. Temptations on the Warfront / ~180K

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

this was the first drarry fic ive ever read, and before this mf i HATEDDD this pairing. so you can imagine how much it took to convince me otherwise, bc i was 100% scorbus before this.

to be fair, horcrux hunting with draco involved is, possibly, my favorite trope ever. its unique. theres tension, both sexual and life threatening. in some ways it romanticizes the war, but fuck it it aint a real war.

slowest of burns. amazing. life changing. long as hell. nothing else to be said except read it right now i demand it.

4. Clouding the Senses / ~58K

As everyone returns to Hogwarts for a final eighth year, some people are coping better with the aftermath of the war than others. After encountering a very drunk Draco Malfoy one night, Harry realises that maybe those that lost loved ones aren’t the only ones trying to escape the war. Blaise Zabini seems to think Harry can help Malfoy, that the Slytherin might actually listen to him. Harry is not so sure. Dependence is a tricky thing, and one addiction can quickly shift to another.

everyone that reads drarry loves 8th year fics, but this ones just kinda different from all those normal (yet entertaining) ones. draco’s an alcoholic in this, and one night harry tries to help him and whoops, one thing leads to the other and they start having casual sex. its really, really amazing how both draco and harry navigate the addiction, i really cant say it has any flaws.

i know the author got a lot of hate on their fics and thats why they took them down, but they’re truly one of the best drarry authors out there. i’ve reread this a couple of times, and the tenderness, the love and confusion is all very on character. a+

5. Restraint / ~153K

Someone casts the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy, and whatever the instructions may be, Harry finds himself an unwilling target. The encounter leaves him torn between pleasure and revulsion. As they fight in the aftermath, a tense game begins. Harry fights to convince Malfoy, and himself, that he was not affected by that initial encounter, or any of those following it.

Faced with a series of escalating encounters, Harry must come to terms with desiring things he never thought he could, things he wishes he didn’t respond to. They each use signs of arousal as weapons against each other in a mad struggle to finally shame the other into backing down for good.

But it’s only after the game is over that Harry starts to understand.

this is by the same author of clouding the senses, and i read this just this week. at first, it’s shocking, because it plays around with consent in a very unsettling way. when communication comes in, and its starts getting healthier, you can really understand where the author found the idea of playing with consent. it is, in my opinion, 100% characteristic of how they would behave post-war, with that grief and confusion. it’s also dom/sub in some parts, and that’s mf hot.

it also has my favorite tropes in it, but it’s a spoiler to say which one. i’ll probably mention the trope in the list along with a bunch others, but when u finish reading you’ll know which one ;)

6. Humbug / ~30K

Draco has been taking his casual relationship with Harry for granted. Visits from four key ghosts the night before Christmas just might shake up his priorities in life.

(felt like it was valid to just paste what i wrote in my notes app after reading this)

(FUCKKKKKK HOW TO EVEN START?!!!?? just a fucking bonus, draco is THE best bottom o ever exist i love my bottom son so much. this story isnt only amazing it’s excruciatingly painful to read, harry and draco have been sleeping together but harry is completely in love with him. draco doesnt see how much harry cares for him or how much hes hurting harry by treating their fling like its just that, a FLING. with that, draco is haunted by three ghosts. one of the past, the present and the future, AND THEY SET THAT IDIOT STRAIGHTTTT 1800000/10. the gays DO KEEP MF WINNING!!!

7. in your arms, rests my world / ~24K

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

the friends with benefits trope doesnt ever disappoint, top 5 tropes fr, especially if its also 8th year. harry and draco get into their little thing, but of course nothing ever is simple between them. by the preview, you can clearly see how much draco likes harry (also another 10/10 trope, the ‘i’ve been in love with harry potter since i was 11′ one). my only tiny issue with this is that harry fucks it up just a tad, but it of course adds up to the drama of it all, which i absolutely love.

noting it also touches on non-con/rape and, and all in all, is extremely angsty. one i was tense from beginning to end. but i am gonna say it ends amazingly and v happily.

8. Playing the Hero / ~29K

Nobody kissed me like Harry did. He kissed like he flew; he kissed like he duelled - with his whole being, not caring about anything else. I had never felt as vulnerable as I did when he kissed me, seizing all and any control I had over myself. But when Harry kissed me, I felt free...

so the thing about angst is that it ignites that mf feeling side u that even tho it hurts you cannot get enough of. this fic was EVERYTHINGGG. it made cry and laugh and smile. also another trope i absolutely adore is them breaking up and not being 100% ok with that, bc ding ding!! YALL STILL LOVE EACH OTHER!!

i cant describe how i felt, honestly. i would just paste my notes (i wont bc spoilers) but it looks like i went thru sum shit. deadass

9. fine i’ll hold my breath / till i forget it’s complicated / ~ 15K with the two parts

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

u know, fluff is a drug. i dont know if its beucase 90% of drarry fics are about angsty get-togethers, but i had butterflies in my stomach when i read this. its adorable. draco is so clearly in love, he jusT SMILES A LOT I CANTTT.

its cute. i love it to death. have some fluff before starting your day.

10. Un Noël très parisien / ~14K

When Draco crossed paths with Auror Potter at a political function in Paris, he was not expecting their former animosity to change into something rather more intriguing. But he could be certain their casual flirtation would not last more than the night, couldn't he?

look. i know i named a lot of my favorite tropes here, but i cant end this without mentioning how much single dad draco affects me. i love scorpius and how much he changes draco in every fic he appears. i love parent draco and i shant be silent about it (especially when scorpius is legit just a year old in this. i died)

as it states, harry and draco have a one night stand but draco thinks thats it, that it was all he was ever gonna have. he’s wrong of course, and the path it takes, with both scorpius and harry there, just melted my mf heart.

well kids that’s all i have for now. imma work on a part two with 10 other fics i really love!1

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #gay #mlm #fanfiction #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #lgbtq fanfiction

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rogerblackwolf · 3 years

Text

The Angel

Containment Facility 204

60 miles south of Fairbanks, Alaska.

-Modern Day-

A single black Osprey VTOL flew over the snow covered land, a full moon helping illuminate the nighttime sky. The winds caused some turbulence but the pilots were experienced enough to handle it, the single passenger however found it to be a little rough. The passenger shifted in her seat to look out the window at the expanse of white land and the mountains they were heading towards, in the distance she noticed some dark clouds which the moon helped outline. Another gust of wind shook the Osprey, and before long the snow began falling again, thankfully their destination was in sight. The lights of the mountainside were like a Christmas tree, lighting the way for them to land, the Osprey's twin engines slowly turned upward allowing for it to land on a massive helipad. Once on the ground the woman grabbed her two suitcases and got blasted by the cold air as the ramp was dropped.

A couple of men in uniforms immediately came up to her and got her to a waiting vehicle nearby. They drove from the helipad and into an open illuminated tunnel, just as the snow began to fall. A perk of getting stationed in Alaska during the winter months. The first thing she noticed upon entering the mountain was the massive interior hanger which held several other Ospreys. The car then drove down another tunnel and stopped at a service entrance for the personnel.

"Now ma'am, go inside to the front desk, they'll show you where to go." The driver said.

"Thank you. I appreciate the help." She said before grabbing her suitcases and heading inside. Once inside she was greeted by one of a pair of men at the front desk who stood and asked;

"Ms. Clark?"

"Yes. That's me." She replied, putting her hood down and removing her beanie.

"Do you have your ID badge?" The man asks

"Yes right here." Clark said, taking it out of her jacket pocket.

The man looked it over and checked against the file on the computer.

"Please place your right thumb on this." He says whilst putting a small scanner on the counter. Clark obliged, taking her gloves off and placing her thumb on the scanner. After some more typing the man gave back her badge before asking her to follow him, leading her down a hallway to an elevator. Next to the doors was what looked like an electric lock where the man inserted his ID badge, once the light turned from red to green a hidden plate opened next to it, revealing a scanner with the outline of a handprint. The man put his hand in the outline, a line of light quickly ran the length of his hand before a green arrow pointing up above the doors lit up.

"When the doors close, put your badge into the lock, follow the instructions given and you'll be fine." He says.

"Thank you." Clark replies.

"Enjoy your stay, ma'am." The man said before walking away. A few moments later the elevator rang and the doors opened. Once inside, Clark put her ID badge into the lock and a hidden plate opened to her right revealing another handprint scanner and a retinal scanner. A small screen also lit up with a set of instructions; the first being 'Place right hand in the scanner.', once she did so, another instruction came onto the screen 'Look directly into the lens.'

Clark looked into the lens and a pair of lights scanned both her eyes. When the lights stopped she blinked with relief, and the last instruction came on-screen 'Report to Dr. Malcolm on Level 4.' Clark pressed the number 4 button and felt the elevator beginning to descend. She unzipped her winter coat and undid her light brown hair which stopped at her shoulders. She took a deep breath, nervous of what would happen next since this was new to her. She glanced at her watch, 9:45 pm, not terribly late but she didn't ponder it as the elevator opened again, this time welcomed to a reception area that split into a couple of hallways. She was met by a receptionist, a young woman with auburn hair tied in a bun and dressed in formal business attire, who happily showed her to Dr. Malcolm's office. The women entered as the man inside was in the process of putting some files away and locking the cabinet. Dr. Malcolm was easily six feet tall, had long blonde hair with some grey mixed in that was tied into a ponytail, clean shaven with an angular face, and dull grey eyes. He also had faint bags under his eyes, probably not the type of man to get much sleep.

"Ms. Clark, welcome to Containment Facility 204." Dr. Malcolm said, shaking her hand firmly before leaning against his desk.

"Thank you, Doctor." Ms. Clark said standing in front of him.

"My name is Dr. Howard Malcolm, I am the Head Researcher and Overseer for this facility. I'm sure you have many questions but I'm also sure you are tired so I'll show you where you'll be staying and get you settled. Shall we?" He asks, leading the way out of his office and holding the door for her. Clark followed him down a hallway and up some stairs to another hallway where there were multiple doors on both sides with room numbers. They stopped at a room near the end of the hall and Clark noticed the lock required a key card.

Dr. Malcolm stepped aside letting her do the honors. Clark inserted her badge and entered, being welcomed with what looked like a high-end hotel room. It had a full sized bed, a bathroom with a shower, a small living area with a tv and workspace, and even a kitchen with a fully stocked fridge. It was devoid of decorations but that could be fixed in due time. Clark put her suitcases at the foot of the bed before taking her heavy coat off.

"Make yourself at home, and in the morning we'll get you set up for your job here, anyway I'll leave you to it. Goodnight Dr. Clark." Dr. Malcolm said, closing the door before she could reply.

Dr. Clark quickly got acclimated after a simple dinner and getting unpacked. Without much else to do she decided to go to sleep even if she was still a bit nervous.

Awakened by her alarm, Clark stumbled out of bed and made some coffee before taking a quick shower and having some toast. She then got dressed in a plain blouse, skirt that went past her knees, plain black flats and some light makeup, first impressions and all. She got a knock at her door as she put on her lab coat and attached her badge.

"Yes?" She asked through the door.

"It's Dr. Malcolm."

Clark opened up to the man who waved with a smirk.

"Morning Ms. Clark, How was your first night?" He asked.

"Good. I was about to come and find you actually." She said

"Well, if you're ready I'll give you the tour and get your security clearance settled." He said.

Clark nodded before following Dr. Malcolm through the halls of the facility. They passed multiple other Researchers and men in security uniforms, the researchers carried files and iPad devices but they still managed to wave or say a morning greeting. Before long, Clark and Malcolm arrived in the main control center where she was given an iPad that, among other things, showed a map of the level she was on. She noticed how it was rather Labyrinthine in design, but with the map handy she'd adapt with time. Dr. Malcolm explained how the facility housed many creatures that resembled folkloric creatures but each was unique in a way. Each of the creatures were separated by level as were the researchers who studied them. Dr. Malcolm introduced the head of security, a tall imposing man with broad shoulders and short black hair named Andrew, to Clark. He asked her for her ID badge which he told her was only a temporary one, he showed her to an area with a camera and a blue screen. Andrew took her picture, a couple minutes later, she had a new ID badge and finally turned a mic toward her.

"Ok, last thing, speak your full name and credentials." Andrew said pressing a button on the desk next to the mic.

"Dr. Amelia D. Clark, PhD in Philology." She said.

Andrew then typed on the computer before speaking again;

"Ok, the software now recognizes you as part of the staff. Congrats." He said with a smirk.

"Thank you." Clark replied.

"Now onto the reason you are here. Follow me please." Dr. Malcolm said, having Dr. Clark follow him as he walked and talked;

"Dr. Clark, you were selected out of a roster of one hundred and fifty individuals, and only your credentials stood out the most. Received your Master's from the University of Pennsylvania, top of your class, and you did your field study at the British Museum and the Louvre. All impressive." Dr. Malcolm said.

"Well yes...so where am I gonna be placed, and why was I chosen?" She asked

"You'll be placed with Research Team 18, they're looking into one of the creatures stored here. One that's quite...unique." Dr. Malcolm said.

They came to a room with a few other researchers working on a number of different artifacts. On one table was a tablet covered in writings that looked like some form of cuneiform, another had an ornate dagger covered with similar symbols along its edge, and the two last tables had many jewelry pieces from a necklace and rings to bejeweled bracelets. One Researcher came up to the duo, an older man with balding hair and some grey peach fuzz on his face but he still seemed able for his age.

"Dr. Clark, this will be your lead researcher Dr. Luke Allen. Dr. Allen, meet our latest addition, Dr. Amelia Clark." Malcolm introduced.

"Oh yes, the new linguist." Dr. Allen said, extending his hand to her.

"I'm actually a Philologist sir." Amelia replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"What's the difference?" Allen asked.

"A Linguist studies languages spoken today, including dialects used by small populations, while a Philologist studies ancient texts and the evolution of ancient languages a linguist would consider "dead" languages because they only exist in writing, like Sanskrit, Old English, and Old High German." Amelia explained.

"Well then, what language did you study?" Allen asked.

"My focus was Assryiology." Amelia answered.

"If you would, I'm certain our guest is awake by now. And I think it's safe to say that Dr. Clark likes a challenge on her first day." Dr. Malcolm said, looking at Amelia.

"Well, I guess no time like the present." Amelia replied.

"Alright. Good luck." Dr. Malcolm said before taking his leave.

Dr. Allen escorted Amelia through a couple of corridors and down a hallway with several contained creatures. The cells themselves were made of impact resistant metal and the doors looked like glass but it let out an electrical pulse when touched. In one cell was what resembled a massive feline with a wolf-like head that paced back and forth snarling at the researchers as they passed. Another cell had a polar bear but it was larger and had bony horns protruding from its body. It took a swipe at the door before getting a powerful shock that made it recoil.

Dr. Allen showed her to a quieter passage that held some of the more docile creatures, like a supersized elk that reminded her of a Megalocerus and an overgrown bison that appeared to have bony plates on its head and shoulders. While amazed, Amelia was surprised when they arrived at a pair of heavy doors with a hand scanner next to them. Dr. Allen scanned his hand and the doors began unlocking before opening, Dr. Allen stepped in first followed by Amelia. Inside was a circular room comparable in size to Amelia's room, it had stacks of books, magazines, even DVDs and CDs. In four corners of the room were cameras, one of which focused on the researchers as they entered. There was a bed in the corner that had been made and a TV playing a popular show on the opposite end, what surprised her more was the one watching it. The figure turned off the TV, setting the remote aside before standing to turn towards the duo.

He was humanoid, easily seven feet tall, dressed in a gold and white robe with vestments draped over his shoulders, and smooth, tanned skin with golden hair that showered down his back. He also had a pair of feathered wings that sprouted from his back. Amelia was first stricken by how handsome he was but then saw he was hovering in place.

"Good morning Dr. Allen." He said.

"Good morning Subject 11572. This is our new addition." Dr. Allen replied.

The humanoid turned to Amelia and extended his hand to her. Amelia took it and began to introduce herself.

"Hello I'm-"

"Dr. Amelia Clark, PhD in Philology, graduated from the University of Pennsylvania. Among other things." He said.

"Uhm." She responded.

"Yeah he does that. Anyway, this is Subject 11572, we often refer to him as the Angel for obvious reasons." Dr. Allen says nonchalantly.

"Apologies if I overstepped." The Angel said.

"Oh it's fine, I'm just starting to get used to things here." Amelia chuckled. The Angel smirked in response.

"Dr. Clark will be responsible for studying you from now on. I'll be monitoring the interview from the observation room. Good luck." Dr. Allen said, taking his leave.

Amelia nearly protested but figured this could likely be a test so she took a deep breath and turned back to the Angel.

"May I offer you a seat?" He asked, hovering to the side to offer a couple of chairs.

"Sure. Thank you." She said taking a seat just as the Angel followed suit.

Amelia pulled up the file on the Angel and read some details while the Angel sat patiently, she couldn't really gauge his emotions if he had any to begin with. She finally spoke by reading off his bio.

"This file says you were found in 1976 on one of the Aleutians. How'd you arrive there?"

"I chose to come to your world as an ambassador. The portal sent me to the islands, I was found by the local tribesmen who welcomed me with food and drink. Your agents found me, I surrendered and I've been here ever since." He responded.

"Ok, how did you know my name and credentials without me or Dr. Allen telling you?" She asked.

"I am able to tell a lot about a person by reading their aura." He says

"Aura?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"All humans have an aura, a byproduct of the magical lifeblood that exists in all Creation. I can see and gain a basic understanding of a person by simply reading it, such as if they are good or hold other intentions. However by physically touching a person I can see many more details, like their name, family, etcetera." He explains.

"What did you sense from me and Dr. Allen?" Amelia asks.

"Dr. Allen hides no ulterior motives but he has his own problems like many humans. He is trustworthy despite being easily irritated. Your aura is nervous but good, you're worried you won't do a good job. Perhaps due to your past experiences of clumsiness." The Angel speculated.

Amelia blushed in embarrassment before continuing.

"So do you have a name? Or are you ok with being referred to as "Angel"?" She asked.

"My name is inscribed on the tablet I brought with me, I cannot tell you it though. And for the sake of simplicity, I've allowed myself to accept the moniker." He says.

"Why can't you tell me your name?" Amelia asks curiously.

"Telling you my name creates a bond that cannot be easily broken, and allows you access to my knowledge. However, the cost for such knowledge could overwhelm your mind to the point of insanity, if it doesn't destroy you outright. By learning my name, that is a sign that you could stand a chance of surviving and retaining what I show you." He says.

"Sounds simple enough." Amelia said with a nervous chuckle.

The Angel chuckled with her and she caught him with a faint smile, she blushed in response.

The interview went on for roughly another hour before Amelia was called to conclude it. She thanked the Angel and exited the room meeting with Dr. Allen as the doors shut and locked behind her. Amelia then asked Dr. Allen to show her the tablet, when they got back to the research room, Amelia began studying the object. It was 12 inches tall, 6 inches wide, half an inch thick, had rounded edges, and looked like it was made of some metallic alloy but it was considerably lighter. Etched into its surface were symbols that covered only the front side, they resembled the writings of ancient Babylon which gave Amelia a lead.

She downloaded scans of the tablet onto her iPad while also trying to see if she recognized any of the symbols herself. The other researchers helped by getting her some books and journals on cuneiform, and lots of coffee. Many hours passed and Amelia was only able to translate a few sentences talking about a great mission and a person to bring unity. Amelia finally decided to hit the hay and took her iPad with her to her room, she made a sandwich for dinner and showered before looking at the scan of the tablet. She finally decided to let her iPad go through the translation program through the night so she could get some sleep.

The next morning, Amelia got up and went about her routine, just finishing her first cup of coffee when her iPad suddenly dinged. Upon opening it, the program had finished its translation, which excited her enough she immediately began reading. In essence the tablet spoke of a civil war between the forces of Creation, in the end the rebellion leader was cast from the realm along with his followers. The realm of Creation elected one of their own to go to the Earth so that he could teach mankind the importance of unity even among enemies. To see past the differences of one another and instead see what makes them human.

The strange thing though was the last sentence was incomplete simply reading 'The Watcher has been chosen, he will be known to mankind by his given name of-' with the last word unable to be translated. Amelia got ready for the day and took her findings to Dr. Allen who, after reading the translation, told her to see if she could decipher it. As she poured through journal after journal, she grew frustrated due to not finding what she needed. As a result she sat at her desk staring blankly at her open books and iPad which had the untranslated word that vexed her mind. Suddenly it came to her.

The word consisted of six letters not just Babylonian but each letter was from a different language of the region. One was from the Sumerian language, another from Assyrian, and Amorite. She wrote out the letters in order, finding them to make sense as she translated them down to the English alphabet. Finally it spelled a name she could read but, despite her eureka moment, she didn't want to reveal it just yet. She went to Dr. Allen, who then took her to see Dr. Malcolm, and needless to say he was surprised by her discovery.

"I think we should consult our guest." Dr. Malcolm said, leading them to the holding cell. This time the Angel was reading a book with a hard cover and a title in Italian. He closed it before standing to greet the trio as the door closed behind them.

"Doctors Clark, Allen, and Malcolm. How are you all this day?" He asks.

"We believe that we have finally translated your tablet, and your name, thanks to the work of Dr. Clark." Malcolm said.

The Angel's brow arched as he turned to Amelia.

"You believe you know my name?" He asked.

"I do, and though I am new here I also believe that these two can be trusted with your secret." Amelia said.

"For security purposes, this device was programmed with your name, whenever your name is said the device will distort it. Keep in mind though that my superiors will be able to hear the unaltered version. Knowing this, are these measures satisfactory?" Dr. Malcolm asked, showing a small recording device.

"They are." The Angel said after a moment of thought.

Once the measures were in place, Dr. Malcolm and Dr. Allen let Amelia take the lead.

"Your name...is Anauel."

The Angel, who was hovering in place, landed on his feet. His eyes had a glossy glow before but they now took on a more human color, that of a bright blue.

"You are correct." He said before he took a seat, the rest following suit.

"You have many questions, I will answer them as well as I can. No holding back." Anauel said.

#BRSC #Story 7

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