#never said you make it in a keurig darling

[demonsanddemogorgons]

Sunny in Philadelphia - A Joseph Quinn Story (Chapter 14)

Chapter 14 - Girlfriend

You were awoken by the sun peeking through your blackout curtains that weren’t completely closed. You turned over to see an empty bed beside you, and a clock that read 7:00 am. You groaned and stretched, climbing out of bed and putting an oversized t-shirt and underwear on to head downstairs. As you made your way to the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Jango. You scratched him behind the ear and leaned down to kiss his head. You walked into the kitchen to see Joe standing at the stove, bacon frying and pancakes bubbling.

“Good morning, lovey. Sleep well?” he asked, flipping the bacon.

“Hey, babe. Yes, I did, but it’s still early. What are you doing up?”

“I dunno, I guess I’m still used to Dallas time. I had to be up early there and it’s an hour ahead here.”

You walked up and hugged him from behind as he worked on the pancakes, kissing the back of his shoulder.

“Thank you for making breakfast.”

“Of course, darling. You ready? It’s almost done.”

“Yes, I’m starving,” you responded, getting plates and silverware out. You wandered over to the Keurig to start a cup of coffee but found one sitting there freshly made.

“Already done, love,” Joe said from across the kitchen with a smile as he saw where you went.

“Wow, it’s almost like you know me, Quinn,” you smirked, grabbing the cup, and getting in the refrigerator for your cream. He laughed.

“It doesn’t take long to notice your addiction to coffee. It’s not Starbucks, but it’s something.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

The two of you sat down and began devouring the breakfast Joe had made. He was good at everything, it seemed – cooking, physical touch, making sure you had everything you needed in more ways than one. You loved that he knew you so well already. You were a good book he couldn’t put down, paying attention to every detail so he could show you how much he cared later. He loved learning what made you tick, what you liked and didn’t like, what made you feel good. He was a true gentleman because it was what you deserved in his mind.

“So...” you trailed off, cutting up your pancake. “Mom said she can’t wait to meet you, and that she would love it if we joined them for dinner tonight. My brother and Rachel will be going, too.”

“That sounds lovely, darling.”

“Well, don’t get too excited yet.”

Joe furrowed his brows in confusion.

“My mom isn’t the one you need to worry about,” you giggled. “She is nice to everyone, even people who don’t deserve it. My dad, on the other hand, is a bit different.”

“Different?”

“Yes, different. He, umm... he is a bit of a redneck. He won’t threaten you or anything, but he will make you feel threatened without even having to say anything. He has that affect.”

“He can’t be that bad, darling. He’s just trying to protect you.”

“He didn’t used to be that bad, but after the last man I brought around...” you trailed off, raising your brows to imply that Joe knew who that was. “He definitely means business now.”

“What’s he going to do? Clean a gun in front of me like that one country song says?” Joe joked, laughing. You just stared at him.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Joe’s laugh immediately stopped, and he looked at you with a serious expression.

“Really?”

“I told you he’s a redneck,” you chuckled. “But I honestly think you’ll be fine. Everyone loves you. You have that affect.”

“I’m just going to be me, darling. It’s never done me wrong before. It got me you, after all.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be anything else, babe.” You kissed him on the cheek as you took the empty plates to the dishwasher. As you were cleaning up after breakfast, Joe’s phone rang. He came out to the kitchen counter where he left it and read the screen. His face sunk and he sighed, seeming a bit annoyed.

“It’s my agent, Kevin. I should take this.” He swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear as you continued cleaning up, listening to his side of the conversation from across the room. “Hello?...Hey, Kevin...yes, I have a moment, what’s going on?...oh, today?...Jesus, what time?...9:00?!...Kevin, that’s in an hour from now...yes, I know...I don’t mind doing it, it’s just, I’m spending some time off with my girlfriend...yes, girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened and you smiled to yourself as your cheeks flooded red, glancing at Joe as he talked on the phone. It was the first time he had called you that, and hearing it was more beautiful and comforting than your favorite song.

“Yeah, the one from the photos...thank you, yes, it’s been lovely to be away from crowds for a bit. We have plans this evening but we haven’t discussed what we are going to do before then...yes, let me talk to her about this first, please, and I’ll text you...alright, bye.”

“Everything okay? What was that about?” you asked, wiping the counters down with a wet washcloth.

“Yeah, it’s just Kevin got a call from Vanity Fair.”

“The magazine?”

“Yeah. They want to do an interview over the phone with me for a last-minute article, but they have to do it at 9 am today.”

“Joe, that’s great! But you don’t seem so thrilled.”

“I am, it’s just I didn’t really want to be doing this stuff when I’m here with you. I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t a priority.”

“I know I’m a priority for you, babe. You’ve already proven that by being here in the first place, but your job is also a priority. This will be so great for you. If you are going to ask for my permission to do a phone interview, you don’t need it.”

“That’s amazing of you to say, love, truly, but you aren’t used to my life and, no doubt yours, being in the public eye. Since our photos got out, they are probably going to ask me about you. I just want to be sure you are comfortable with it. I can say no if you aren’t.”

“Of course, Joe. I knew it was going to happen at some point. It’s just something we will face together. I appreciate you wanting to check on me first, and I am nervous, but your career is important too, and I would never limit you. It’s just an adjustment I need to make, and I know I won’t be making it alone. Do the interview.”

Joe pulled you in for a hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I suppose it’s settled then. Thank you, darling.”

“You don’t need to thank me, boyfriend,” you said with a grin and a wink. Joe smiled and blushed, realizing you heard that part on the phone. He stroked your cheek with his thumb and kissed you.

“I could get used to hearing that.”

About an hour later, Joe’s phone rings. You had offered him the computer room for some privacy, but he was adamant that you be present for it so you could hear what was said and decided to sit at the dining room table. You appreciated the transparency, but you knew however Joe answered a question would be respectful and tasteful. You had no reason to think otherwise. Joe answered the phone and put it on speaker, sitting it on the table between you.

“Hello, Joseph. My name is Anne, I’m with Vanity Fair. How are you doing today?”

“Good, and yourself?” Joe responded politely.

“I’m doing good. If you’re ready, we can go ahead and get started.”

“Of course.”

The interview started off with some routine questions that were typically asked - how his quickly growing popularity has changed his life, how he started out, his approach for making Eddie the way he was. Things were going smoothly, and Joe was very talented in coming up with the most well-spoken and articulated answers on the fly. The interview was almost over when the question you both were expecting was asked.

“Alright, final question,” Anne started. “There has been a recent sighting of you with a girl. If you’re up for it, what can you tell us about that?”

You could see the wheels turning in Joe’s head as he waited a moment to form his answer. He smiled at you and winked, sensing your nervousness. He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, looking back towards his phone sitting on the table.

“I met someone recently. I didn’t expect it at all, and I don’t think she did either. It sort of just happened, but sometimes that’s the best way. Her name is Mack. We’ve been spending some time together and things have been going really well. I really like her, she’s great.”

“That is wonderful, I’m so happy for you! Best of luck!”

“Bless you, thank you!”

The call ended after they said their goodbyes and Joe turned to you, pulling you in for a hug as you let out an exhale of relief.

“Well, no going back now,” you said as he stroked your hair in attempt to comfort you. He let a small smile show, kissing your cheek.

“It will be alright, lovey.”

“I know,” you responded, pulling him in for a tender kiss. “You’ve got me, right?”

“Always.”

The doorbell rang and Jango began barking, running to the entryway door. Jango had an intimidating bark he used when he didn’t know who was at the door, but the bark he was using was his I know you bark, the excited bark. You were wondering who could possibly be here that he would be so excited about, and then it hit you as you looked through the window on the door. Shit.

“Were you expecting someone, darling?” Joe asked, coming up behind you. You looked down at the floor, disappointed and shocked at who you saw at the door. Great, just great.

“No,” you mumbled. Joe looked at you with confusion and leaned to get a peek through the glass as you went to open the door. You stood there, crossing your arms in front of you and staring at the person waiting on the other side – your ex-husband.

Story Master List

#sunny in philadelphia #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn x fem!reader #stranger things #eddie munson #real person fiction #fanfic #fluff #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn gif #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fluff #joe quinn gif #joe quinn smut #fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #chapter 14

[greg-montgomery]

Hi Fay! as promised I'm gonna recreate the ask i swear on thor odinson i sent to you but oh well here we go!

You said you were so sad greg wasn't with you 24/7 in your life so allow me to shed some light on a gaggle of reasons why he's a pain!

firstly, he spills. This man is infuckingcapable of pouring liquids or moving them from point a to point b without making a whole mess. So every morning if you wake up after him, there's water slopped all down the front of the fridge, a puddle beneath it. Your poor keurig is going to shock somebody because it's sitting in a puddle of coffee. NOT TO MENTION the state of this man's clothes. You make him tuck his napkin into his collar like his life depends on it because you cannot take one more red wine stain on his nice shirts. You've joked with him for years now about getting him an adult BIB because he really is that bad. Every surface in your kitchen is always wet from where he's either left a spill behind OR he's mopped it up by spreading it all over the bench.

secondly, greg is a whistler. Your mum always told you only happy people know how to whistle, so when you met Greg and he could blissfully create the tune of 'livin la vida loca', you thought you'd found the happiest man alive. Of course, after years of listening to him whistle ALL THE TIME, it's lost a little of it's charm. You now end up trying to tune out the high frequencies when you have work to do, but you can't bring yourself to yell at him for being happy. so, you deal with it.

the same CANNOT be said for when you two are sleeping, and greg doesn't snore, his nose whistles in his sleep. it's far less mood-lifting and in-tune than his usual song, and man does it drive you batshit crazy. EVERY time you're drifting off to sleep in his arms, wondering how you got so lucky, there's suddenly the sound of either a very large mosquito or a very small steam train in your ears. It's shrill and it keeps you up all night. You've tried the nasal strips to no avail. You end up buying a white noise machine to blast at its highest volume and hoping that'll cover his high pitched breathing.

Greg looks at you. A lot. It's a beautiful lovesick puppy look in his big doey eyes, but over time it's become a dangerous habit. He doesn't notice literally anything else around the two of you. He's TERRIBLE at judging when to cross the street, much too enthralled by talking to you and holding you close and you always end up yanking him back by his sleeve as a car whizzes by you two. "Greg did you see that new restaurant that opened up just around the corner?" No. Of course he didn't. He never ever does. He's not capable of noticing things that aren't directly between his eyes and your face. You want to gossip with him about how your friend was pulling away from her boyfriend when you guys went out dancing last night? he doesn't know what you're talking about. He was busy admiring your outfit and the way the cheesy disco-ball made your eyes sparkle.

Speaking of gossip, he never gets you any. He is too dedicated and frankly too self-satisfied and disinterested to go digging around for any interesting tea around his office. He never hears about the drama, unless it's because he was asking somebody how they've been. It has to present itself directly to him for him to take any notice of the juiciest details.

Greg is practically allergic to spice. You put pepper in his food and he'll turn to you with a light sheen of sweat and lie to you through gritted teeth about how delicious it is. His tongue is numb. He's almost crying but he'll still tell you he loves the food. You have to cook everything so bland for your sweet darling boy to handle it.

Also, he eats EVERYTHING. There's no such thing as leftovers in your house and there probably never will be again. You swear his mother was right about him having hollow legs. He can eat enough for a family of five and still go searching for dessert. Don't even think about meal prepping your lunches for the week and leaving them in the fridge. They're gone. Every time you turn around he's got an emptied vessel of food in hand. And once he's burned through all the real food in the house, he's eating boxes of dry cereal, old dates, raw carrots from the crisper, anything he can get his hands on. On the bright side, you never have to leave food behind at a restaurant. Your boyfriend can ALWAYS finish it with a smile on his face (unless of course it's even remotely spicy).

I tried making these all obviously forgivable traits, because I don't want any of us to really hate greg. But these are some pretty good reasons to miss him a whole lot less.

mission failed i now miss him even more ‼️‼️

plsssss rome this made me fall for him even harder 😭😭😭😭 i love his annoying habits i want him to annoy me :(((

omg especially the one where he only notices you and nothing else :(( that’s so romantic 🥺🥺🥺

and the gossiping LMFAOOOOO he drops a bomb of a gossip from work and then you’re like “AND????????” and he’s like “oh…i didn’t ask idk” and you’re like 😐

baby not being able to handle spicy food he’s so cute stop it rn 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ugh but also eating everything all the time 🤭🤭🤭 the duality of greg

ahhhh i’m yearning SOOOOO BAD after this :(( i want a life with him :((((((( i want all these annoying habits of his to be part of my life and routine </3

rome thank you so much for sending this 🥺🥺🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 i needed some greg fluff 🥹

#ask #greg 🧸 #rome 🪻

[whaleofatjme1920]

A Little Outside the Doorway of Your Home (Various Creepypasta X F!Reader)

A Little Outside the Doorway of Your Home (Various Creepypasta X F!Reader)

[Various X F!Reader]

[Warnings: none? Like, children I guess and slight angst.]

[AN: it's like a half fic half scenario thing that I originally intended to be shorter, but here we are.]

You wake in your house to the sound of your little girl running through the hall of your house. As you open your eyes to the ceiling where rays of lights dance through the open air. You can tell she’s padding towards your room - it’s become a daily event.

“Mommy!” She cries out as she bursts your door open, jumping onto the bed with all her might.

“There’s my little princess,” you hum with a small smile, giggling as you scoop her into your arms.

She laughs - it sounds so much like her father - before she situates herself on your sheets. She sits up. “Do you know what today is?” She asks, happiness in her eyes.

You pretend to feign ignorance, “no, I don’t. What’s today?” You question as your face pulls an expression that tells you’re obviously playing.

She rolls her eyes playfully and pushes at you with all her tiny might, “really?” She says in an exaggerated tone.

You break your feigned ignorance and pull your daughter in before peppering her face with kisses. “How could I forget? You’re six years old today!”

That statement isn’t false, you wouldn’t forget her birthday for anything. Her birthday is a place of happiness and sorrow. Happiness, because she’s growing older and experiencing the world and living a life you always wanted her to have, and sorrow, because it was the day you said goodbye to someone you loved.

Every time you looked into her darling eyes, you saw her father’s looking back at you. Every day she grew to be more and more like him; it was undeniable that she was his just as much as she is yours.

“What do you say we make a special birthday breakfast?” You say as you slip out of the sheets before turning back to your bouncing little girl who climbs onto your hip.

“It sounds so good,” she says, nodding faster and wildly than she can even get the words out. “Can I help you make it?”

“Of course,” you reply. “I can’t make a special birthday breakfast without the birthday girl’s assistance,” you giggle, tapping her nose gently as the two of you head down the hallway to the kitchen.

Once there, you set her down and get the things she can do out on the counter top. She’s so tiny that she needs a chair to stand up on just to reach them all. You watch from the corner of your eye as you handle the things you’re not comfortable with her doing just yet. She’s surprisingly efficient, your little one. She has the curiosity and skill that outruns her peers by miles. A part of you says it’s because of her father, but you know it’s because you’ve been raising her. Nurture is greater than nature, after all.

Your little birthday girl gets to stirring the pancake batter after she measures it and you’re cutting up fresh vegetables for an omelets alongside some other things. The kitchen already smells heavenly. When she’s done mixing the batter, you pour it into a heated pan and make them just the way she wants them - with butterscotch chips and chocolate chips. You let her put it on a plate and watch as she carefully cuts some strawberries. Once she’s successfully transferred the delicious pancakes onto her plate (and adorably one for you as well), she goes to the table.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Can I have some tea with honey?”

You smile and wordlessly get to brewing some tea. You decide you’ll have some too, so you decide to use the kettle over the Keurig. As you wait for it to whistle, you get the rest of the breakfast together and place it all at the table for just the two of you.

“It looks good,” you note as your child waits patiently for you.

“It smells good,” she agrees.

The kettle whistles and you find yourself flitting over to its side before procuring two cups. You make her cup of tea just the way she likes it, and finally, you’re able to settle at the table with her.

“Go ahead,” you say as you sit down.

She beams and digs into her food. “Thank you,” she says in a momentary lapse between eating and stuffing her face.

You laugh slightly, “slow down,” you remind her.

She pauses slightly before going back to her fast eating.

You also begin to cut your pancakes and omelets. Once to your satisfaction, you pour some honey into your tea, stir it and bring it to your lips. You’re barely able to get in a few sips before you hear a knock at your door. Your eyebrows raise as you see your little girl setting down her silverware. “No, let me get it. Stay here and finish your food,” you say as you begin to slide out of your seat. “I won’t be too long. You can get your tablet until I’m back. Sound good?”

A large smile curls from her lips as she rushes out of her seat back to her bedroom. You hear her rummaging around her room, and with that, you get up and head to the door to see who it is. As you near your front door, you can’t help but get that sinking feeling in your stomach. You don’t even need to open the door to know who it is. You can feel it in your bones.

Still, as you twist open the doorknob, you feel your heart flutter. You were expecting him, but seeing him in the flesh for the first time in a year has you feeling like you’re meeting him for the first time all over again. He still sets your heart on fire.

Masky - Timothy Wright:

“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” A low male voice asks, a small smile tugging at his lips. There’s bags under his eyes that tell you he hasn’t slept in days but seeing you has his eyes shining with a light that not even the sun can compete with.

“Tim,” you breathe as you catch his eyes. “I’m - I’m well, and you?” You sputter out, stepping out of your house slightly to close your front door behind you. You look over him to see he’s got a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a wrapped present tucked under his other arm. He lets them go gently before taking you into his arms. You wrap around him like a snake, allowing yourself to be swayed by him for a few moments before he lets you go.

“You know how it goes,” he hums in response, moving slightly on your front porch to let you stand beside him. He never says too much of what he does, and to be completely fair, you’re not sure you want to know. All you know is that it’s dangerous, and it’s because of that danger he can’t be close to you or your child.

“You wanna talk?” You ask. It’s more a formality, really. Every time he visits he stays to talk for a few minutes or so. You never see him outside of your baby’s birthday.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” Tim replies with a breathy chuckle as he takes his seat on the stairs alongside you. “Got these for you.” The brown haired man holds out the pink flowers for you after he’s reached back on the porch to get them. Roses and carnations. They’re beautiful.

“Thank you,” you say as you take the flowers into your arms. “I hope they didn’t cost you too much-”

“It’s nothing,” he waves off. “Would you mind if I uh,” he gestures down to his breast pocket where you’re greeted to the outline of cigarettes.

Normally you’d tell him no, but this time, you let it slide. “Go for it.”

Tim raises his eyebrows but uses his free hand to fish out his pack of cigarettes anyways. He places one in between his lips. “That’s weird,” he says as you on instinct reach into his coat pocket and grab his lighter. “Something wrong?”

You flick it on and light his cigarette for him, watching as he inhales with appreciation. “It’s nothing,” you attempt to wave off.

“I know you better than that,” he says as you drop his lighter back into his tan coat pocket. “Sounds cliche as hell, but you know I’m right.”

You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. “I just, we-” you finger the petals gently and feel their velvety surface. “We could use you around, you know that, right?”

Masky hums as he takes another drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in rings that dissipate the further away from him they go. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with him, and unfortunately, you know it won’t be the last. “I know.”

“That’s never good enough-”

“I’m sorry,” he cuts you off. “In this situation,” he continues. “My hands are bound.”

“Is your boss really that bad?”

Tim’s face pales slightly as you mention his ‘employer.’ That’s not someone you mention lightly. “If it was that simple I’d be with the two of you now.”

You know he’s not lying. Tim has never been one to like like that. “Is that for her?” You ask suddenly, wanting to change the subject.

He nods and places the package on his lap. “It’s nothing special. Just did what I could,” he mumbles.

You place the bouquet on the patio and take the package off his lap and onto yours. “You sure you’re not spoiling her?” You say with a small smile upon feeling its weight. “She’ll be really happy.”

“Good,” he hums back.

A silence falls over the two of you. It feels like there’s so much to say with so little time. You wish he were around more just to speak with him.

“Are you staying in this area long?”

“No,” Tim says with a frown. “Pulled out some stops just to be here today. My partners and I are really off schedule just being here.”

You can’t help but feel a little bad. “It… It means the world to me,” you say quietly, looking at the wrapping paper that surrounds the package.

Tim’s hand moves to your thigh before he squeezes gently. It’s a nonverbal way for him to say how much he cares for you and your little one, regardless of how far the distance is between you two.

He wants to tell you he loves you before a voice comes calling from inside. It’s muffled, but you can hear your little girl calling out for you.

“I should go,” you say sheepishly.

“Sure, sure,” Tim brushes off as he helps you up, picking up the bouquet so you can focus on holding the present. “Give her all my love, yeah?” He always ends the conversation like this.

“Of course,” you reply, hand on the doorknob. “I’ll see you soon?” You ask, knowing it won’t be until next year.

Tim nods, a sad smile on his face as he leans down slightly to kiss your forehead before he nods for you to go inside, carefully resting the bouquet of flowers on top of the present.

You do so, making it fully past the doorway before looking over your shoulder for a man you love who cannot stay, only to see he’s gone.

Hoodie - Brian Thomas:

“It’s been a while, darling,” a voice with a slight southern accent greets, hazel eyes looking at you with such warmth that it rivals the Sahara in summer. “Give me a hug,” he chuckles before being momentarily caught off guard by how hard you slam into his chest.

You giggle quietly into the fabric of his yellow hoodie, not even noticing how his other hand softly closes your front door behind you to ensure the agreement the two of you have. He’s not to see your little girl because she’ll be heartbroken he can’t stay.

Once you finally stop clinging to him, you and Brian take a seat on the front steps, watching the morning sun as it rises over the trees.

“What have you been up to?” You ask.

Brian leans back on the porch slightly to get both a package and a small thing of flowers. “Work. Same as usual, really,” he says as he places both of the things on his lap. “Nothing too exciting. What about you and-”

“We’re good,” you say as he holds out a small bouquet of fresh flowers to you. “Thank you,” you smile, taking them into your hands before smelling them. They’re so sweet.

“How is she doing in school?”

“Top of her class,” you say, beaming with pride. “I know she’s only six, but goodness, she’s so bright.”

“She gets it from you,” Brian compliments. “Six already? They grow so fast,” he says softly in a tone you can only understand as regret.

You frown as you look over the soft petals that dance between your fingertips. “I wish you were around more often to see her.”

Brian pulls a slight face, one that tells you he wants nothing more, but the conversation will be the same as all those before. His work is too dangerous, and while you don’t know anything about it, you know he fears for your safety whenever you mention it. “I want nothing more, and you know that more than anyone,” he begins as his posture visibly changes to something that conveys discomfort. “But I can’t and won’t risk her.”

“What kind of work are you even in?” You attempt to ask. You know he’ll never say.

“It’s a nice try,” Brian chuckles as he ruffles your hair. “Y’know, I’m not supposed to be here today.”

“You’re never supposed to be here,” you reply, only the slightest bite coming into your tone.

“Sure, but,” he glances down to the package that sits on his lap. “We’re way off course just being in this area.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah,” Brian sighs. “I had to pull a lot of favors with my associates to get out here,” he says as he lightly taps the package. “But it’s worth it to be near the two of you.” He wishes he could see her.

“It’s never enough,” you reply, a passing ‘this is where we’re at’ coming into your tone.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

A slight silence falls over the two of you as you feel the breeze pick up. You can’t stay out here for too much longer.

“This is for her,” Brian suddenly says, gesturing to the beautifully wrapped package on his lap. “I think she’ll like it.”

“She likes everything you get for her,” you smile as you take the package gingerly into your hands. “You spoil her.”

“I don’t spoil her enough,” Brian playfully retorts. “One of these days I’m going to get a U-Haul truck of stuff for her.” He’s only half joking and the both of you know that.

You giggle slightly, wanting to continue speaking with him before you hear a muffled voice calling out for you.

“Dang, gotta call this one short,” you say as you begin to stand up.

Brian follows your actions, his brows furrowing slightly as he helps you up. “What a shame,” he agrees half heartedly, his voice turning into something more somber.

You flash him a reassuring smile, but can’t help but feel overwhelmed by how gently he helps you up. “I’ll uh, see you soon, right?” You ask, eyes glimmering with the possibility he’ll be back faster than just next year.

“Sure thing,” he says. It’s a promise you both know he can’t keep. “Give her all my love, please,” he finishes gently as he pushes open the front door for you.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up and into his hazel eyes that show nothing but sorrow.

Brian smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, and just like that, he’s heading down your stairs and back out of your life until next year.

Eyeless Jack:

“What a sight for sore eye sockets,” the grey skinned man greets with a small smirk pulling onto his lips. He dips down for a moment to deposit both a bouquet of freshly picked sunflowers and a nicely wrapped present on the porch before he leaves his arms open for you.

You smile widely in response, softly close your front door before getting a good look at the man who stole your heart all those years ago. “I’ve missed you so much,” you say as you wrap your arms around his midsection. You take in his scent and revel in it.

“I missed you too,” he says softly, swaying the two of you on the porch. “C’mon, sit with me and talk for a moment.”

You don’t hesitate and take a seat next to him on the steps. “What have you been up to?” You ask, looking longingly at the man you only see once every year.

It’s strange, the way you met Eyeless Jack, and it was mostly an accident. He’d broken into your dorm room and intended to get your roommate but woke you instead. You fought him, he liked that, and the two of you had formed some weird friendship romance. Eventually, that oddity that called itself a relationship blossomed into a child. That’s when things got strange, and odd, and in order to protect her, decided that the best course of action would be him not being around her. It hurt to admit that it was for the best. The both of you wanted normalcy for her.

“Same as I’ve always been,” Eyeless Jack replies as he listens to the sounds of the house. When he’s this close, he can hear his little girl. It’s almost as if he was there by her side. “Travelled around some, but my boss has some tasks for me to do on the opposite end of the country than here.”

You hum slightly in response. “We’re a major detour, aren’t we?”

Eyeless Jack cracks a smile and shakes his head slightly. “I would never consider the two of you detours. You’re the only good things in these parts,” he finishes. “Oh, I also picked these from some farmer’s fields on the way here. Thought it might liven up your house a bit.” He hands you the hand plucked sunflowers.

You chuckle and lightly slap at his shoulder before taking the golden flowers into your hands. “You’re so kind.”

“Right?” He teases slightly in agreement. “How is she?”

“She’s doing great,” you say. “She’s so smart and sociable. We get requests for playdates all the time.” You’re not lying, your little girl really is a social butterfly and she’s so intelligent and inquisitive for her age.

“Is she? She definitely gets it from you,” Eyeless Jack says as he thinks back to his own days as a student. Granted, he can’t remember as far back as childhood, but he can remember what it was like being in love with the world and all she had to offer.

“Y’know the funniest thing?” You begin. “She wants to be a doctor when she grows up.”

If Eyeless Jack had eyes, you knew they’d be lighting up. It’s what he wanted to be before he became whatever he is now.

As he smiles, you suppress the idea of telling him that the eyes your little girl has now are the ones that were stolen from him all those years ago. She’s the spitting image of a human him, and you know his inky black heart would break if he knew. Instead, you let a comfortable silence fall over the two of you before one of you inevitably breaks it.

“Will you be staying around this place for much longer?”

He shakes his head slightly, a small sag coming to his shoulders as he does so. “I’d love to stay longer just to catch up with you, but there’s some things I really, really need to do. Looks like it’s gonna be a while until I pull out all the stops again.”

You frown and rest your head on his shoulder, wanting to say so much to him before you hear a muffled voice calling out for you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you stand up, holding the flowers tightly in your hands.

Eyeless Jack mirrors you, holding the present. “Here, before we forget,” he lightly reminds as you fumble with it for a moment. “I gotta spoil her every chance I get,” he lightly jokes.

You giggle and test the present’s weight. “I wish that were more than once a year.”

“I wish to too,” Eyeless Jack says, a slightly forlorn look shading over his face. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

You throw him a look, momentarily hurt at the implication it’ll be another year before you see the man who still awakens butterflies in your stomach. You still want to say so much more to him.

“Give her all of my love,” he says softly before he dips down slightly to press his lips to your forehead.

You close your eyes in content, allowing the feeling to wash over you before it’s gone in a flash. When you open your eyes, he’s gone, and you head back into your house to attend to your daughter.

Jeff the Killer:

“It’s so good to see you again, princess,” a man with an eternal smile carved onto his face beams.

“Jeff,” you breathe out as you look into darling blue eyes. “It’s been forever,” you say as he drops the items in his arms, thankful they’re not fragile before you launch into his grasp.

He closes the door softly behind you before he wraps his arms around you, spinning you there on the porch, a gentle laugh bubbling from his chest as he holds someone who’s given him the world and more. “It’s so nice to hold you again,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You smile and squeeze him tighter, wondering why you can only hold him like this once a year.

Reluctantly, Jeff lets you go and brings you to the stairsteps where the two of you will spend a few moments talking about things that should be held over a conversation that’s more than a few mere minutes.

It really never is enough sometimes.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, barely noticing how he reaches back on the porch to get you some fresh wildflowers he plucked on the way here. You instinctively smell them once they’re in your grasp. They’re beautiful, really.

“What haven’t I been up to?” Jeff lightly jokes as he relaxes on the porch. “I’m sure you’ve seen some of the news articles.”

You pull a slight face, roll your eyes but nod regardless. It reminds you of when you first met him - which was frankly, a mistake on both of your parts. He’d gotten hurt, you were not thinking clearly and took him in, patched him up and he refused to leave. Now, he’s the father of your child. It was decided before you had your sunshine that he wouldn’t be directly a part of her life to ensure no harm would befall her. As Jeff has said he is no stranger to enemies.

He’s worried something bad will befall the two of you everytime he leaves, knowing that his presence is the most dangerous force and the biggest threat to your safety. He stays away as far as he can, and with him now working more closer than ever to the tall man in the woods? He’ll be farther away than ever before.

“You’re so bold, how could I avoid you?” You hum in passing, gently brushing the petals of the wildflowers with your fingertips.

Jeff chuckles slightly. “How’s our little sunshine? She doing well in school?”

“Of course,” you grin. “She’s so smart and soaks up information like a sponge. She’s also kinda athletic, but y’know, she’s only six so there’s so many directions she could go,” you inform. In a way, she reminds you of what you think Jeff would be like as a child. She’s certainly outspoken, but never in a disrespectful way. You know she’s going to grow up to be someone good.

Jeff whistles low before he cracks a grin. “Six already? Sunshine’s gonna be seven before we know it. And then she’s gonna be a teen-”

“Slow down!” You giggle, lightly punching Jeff’s shoulder. “I wanna cherish these moments while I still can.”

“If I wasn’t doing what I do,” Jeff begins as he watches the trees sway with the passing breeze. “I’d be where I belong. With the two of you.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your lover’s warmth. “We could make it work now, couldn’t we?”

Jeff shoots you a slight glance to tell you that he knows you know how it’s all going to play out. He doesn’t even need to say it. If he had any faith that the two of you would be safer with him around, he’d be at your side and never leave. But with Jane and his brother in his trail and the Slender Man never letting him breathe plus the cops that get too trigger happy? He refuses to take that risk with his two most important girls in the world. “Princess,” he says softly as he slings his arm over you. “You know the rules to this game.”

You furrow your brows and nod hesitantly, “I do.”

His hand grips your bicep slightly as the two of you spend some time in silence together. There’s so much you both want to say, but neither can bring themself to say it. So for now, silence with someone you love.

“Oh,” Jeff suddenly says. “I brought these things for her,” he says as he gestures to the presents he’s pulling on his lap.

“You’re spoiling her again this year?” You say in a teasing tone as he gestures to the giant basket filled to the brim with stuffed animals. “Of course,” Jeff beams. “I had to. Besides, I heard she’s taken a shine to giraffes.”

“She has,” you say as you look over all the toys and other fun things. “She’ll love it.”

Jeff chuckles. “Good.”

Before you can say anything else, a muffled voice calls for you inside the house. You immediately get up, ready to attend to your daughter and Jeff follows in suit.

Internally, he’s just a bit sad that his moment with you is up, but hearing his daughter’s voice makes his heart sing. He helps you up, ensures you’re able to hold everything he brought and helps you open the door just a crack before the two of you pause.

You look into those blue eyes that set your heart on fire and butterflies in your stomach in motion and smile sadly, trying to reassure him you’ll be okay with him leaving. “Will I see you soon?”

“You know it,” Jeff replies, a promise on his lips that doesn’t reach his eyes. He knows he won’t be back until next year or unless there’s an emergency. He hopes it’s just next year and that no one dear and near to his heart’s life is on the line. “Take care, princess, and give all my love to her,” he says softly as he tilts your head upwards.

“Anything for you,” you whisper as you feel his lips on your forehead, planting a love that only comes once a year.

Jeff chuckles softly before gesturing for you to head inside.

When you turn your back on him to be with your little girl, you feel his presence linger, and then it’s gone.

Slender Man:

Wait, no you didn’t. No the hell you didn’t lol. Mans looks like a Ken Doll below the belt y’aint doing me like this. You go back inside, wondering why you answered a call in which no one made.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta scenarios #x reader #reader insert #masky #hoodie #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #jeff the killer x reader #eyeless jack x reader #marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas

[curvynerdfan]

Wolf of Kattegat

Thank you @boomhauer for requesting. This is the longest piece I’ve ever written totalling over 3.5k words. It has definitely put me in an Ubbe mood! I hope you enjoy it!

Ubbe x tattoo artist reader

Ubbe was giddy when he woke up Thursday morning. Hvitserk had managed to get Ubbe scheduled with his tattoo artist. His brother’s tattoo artist was renown in Kattegat and all of the surrounding cities.Their art was immaculate and it was surprisingly difficult for Ubbe to get an appointment without Hvitserk’s help. He could have always asked Ivar but that kind of frustration didn’t appeal to him.

It still shocked him that it was so difficult for him, a Ragnarsson, to get on the artist’s schedule. He knew she was phenomenal, that is why he was willing to wait. But who in their right mind would deny Ragnar Lothbrok’s son.They must be insane, it was very rare for someone to be unaware of his family’s line of work. The Lothbrok legacy was known across the country and no one dared cross them, those who did rarely lived to regret it. The High Seat Incorporation was involved in a plethora of business endeavors. It’s name paid homage to Odin and everyone’s deep seated belief that the Lothbrok family descended directly from the All Father.

While he could have gone to his typical tattoo shop, this tattoo was special to him. His father was referred to as the “Wolf of Kattegat” and he now felt confident in stepping down as leader and letting Ubbe take over. Bjorn took over foriegn affairs after his uncle Rollo’s betrayal. Many people thought that Bjorn would be the next leader of the Lothbroks, he was passionate about travel and felt like he was following in his father’s footsteps but still being his own man. Hvitserk’s role was much more on the criminal side of the business. He enjoyed participating in the night life and was typically running their club or meeting with unnamed business partners. . Ivar majored in architectural and mechanical engineering but always wanted to be involved in raids. He was also called in to retrieve information, when typical methods of torture just weren’t cutting it. .Lastly Sigurd was in charge of the creative qualities behind their business. Of course the family was involved in criminal activity but a majority of the business was legitimate. Sigurd helped with marketing, contracts and business relations. The new tattoo was going to signify Ubbe’s new status, while honoring his father at the same time. ========================================================================

“We aren’t open for walk-ins until 12pm darling,” she said without lifting her head, “ You’re three hours too early.”

“No, I believe I am right on time.” a gruff voice responded.

Y/N snapped her head up and almost gave herself whiplash. She had never seen a man this stunning and powerful in her life. She felt her jaw drop and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt and dark wash jeans. There were several pieces of jewelry adorning his body. A chain with several charms that looked like runes, a golden band resting on his wrist, and a skull ring were the most notable.

“I have an appointment with Y/N. I hope she is in. I even brought a peach green tea, like mother said.”, he gestured, lifting the large iced drink in his right hand while keeping his coffee in his left.

Ubbe was beginning to worry. While the girl behind the counter seemed nice and was no doubt talented based on the sketches he was staring at, she didn’t necessarily give off the vibe of the talented and high end tattoo artist responsible for the work he has seen on his family members. She was wearing an oversized cardigan and a pair of ripped jeans. Sure there were tattoos peaking out but the glasses resting on top of her french braided hair did not give off badass tattoo artist vibes. A smirk creeped across his face when he realized she was gawking at him and cleared his throat to get her attention again.

“ Ohh, um, yeah I can take you back and get you set up”, Y/N said with a small smile.

Ubbe followed the lovely lady through the back of the parlor and design studio, up a flight of stairs and was happy to see how professional Y/N’s workplace was. Not that the downstairs parlor was trashy, it was just obvious for the public. This area seemed intimate and very classy. A shapeable leather tattoo chair was in the center of the room. It appeared that the artist can manipulate the chair so the arm rests and leg rests could be extended or bent for the customer’s comfort.

“You can have a seat,” Y/N gestured to the chair “I’ll go make sure everything is ready.”

The girl walked out of the room and Ubbe couldn’t help but hope that she was going to get his artist. While alone, he took in the rest of his surroundings. The walls were pitch black but there were large windows with sheer curtains to keep the room light and airy. A massive mirror sat between the two windows so clients could check their work. There were also framed pieces of artwork scattered across the room. The tattoo cart sat to the side of the chair and could move as the artist pleased.

Ubbe realized he had been observing the space for a while and quickly sat down when he heard the door began to open. He tried to look relaxed and nonchalant so he stared at one of the art pieces, a muscular panther resting in a tree. It was a beautiful piece that seemed to possess raw power even though the beast was snoozing.

Y/N had quickly ran into her apartment once she got Ubbe settled in her studio. She made sure there was nothing in her teeth, added a quick swipe of lipgloss and sprayed some more perfume. The man in her studio was gorgeous. Everyone she questioned before accepting Ubbe as a client failed to mention that particular trait. He oozed power and an air of dominance. She could tell he was in charge of any situation but was confident instead of cocky. That trait obviously ran in the family.

“So, when will Y/N be here?”, Ubbe finally asked, he was really starting to doubt whether he’d be getting a tattoo today.

Y/N did a double take, “What? What do you mean, when will I be here?”

Ubbe looked shocked and he was astonished. Then she realized that neither of them introduced themselves..

“Oh wow! Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N and I’ll be your artist today!” she said with a sheepish smile,”I am sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’ll take that tea from you now.” she reached her hand out.

“My apologies, I assumed you knew what I looked like.”, Ubbe apologized.

He quickly handed over her drink, their fingers brushing when he passed the drink off. When Y/N reached to grab the drink, the oversized aztec-patterned cardigan fell off of her shoulder revealing detailed snake tattoos trailing across her left collarbone and shoulder.. It also revealed what may be a bralette or some kind of black laced tank top. Ubbe let out a huff when he took in her appearance for a second time. His eyes darkened when he realized how beautiful she really was. The fluffy and plain cardigan with what he believed were called ‘mom jeans’ gave her a demure and almost frumpy look. The outfit was definitely more for comfort than aesthetic. He couldn’t help but admire her body and the artwork that enhanced it. He also noticed chunky snake earrings dangling from her ears and a chain necklace caressing her throat.

“Alright, here is the finished tattoo outline. Please be honest and let me know if there is anything else we need to alter before we start. It won’t hurt my feelings. Every tattoo has a special meaning and I want you to be able to look at it with pride.” Y/N rambled before gently placing the sketch in his lap before setting up her rolling cart.

A small smirk rose on Ubbe’s face. While Y/N was obviously flustered, he could tell that she was passionate about her trade and dedicated to giving her clients the best experience possible. She wandered over to a black minifridge and patted the top of it where a keurig rested.

“While you look your tattoo over I can run through some basics I find important. Your brothers said you already have plenty of tattoos so I hope you know how to care for them properly. Either way, I have a set of printed instructions for you and I usually have customers come in a week after getting inked so I can lay eyes on it and make sure no touch ups are needed. I will also provide you with a healing salve and cleaning solution.” Y/N waved her hand over the fridge, “You’re getting a decent-sized tattoo with a significant amount of shading so we need to make sure to take breaks. I have a wide variety of snacks and drinks available. Feel free to stop me at any time for any reason. Today is all about making sure you have the best experience possible and the tattoo is something you love. That being said, do you have any questions or are there any alterations I need to make before we get started?”

Y/N finished her spiel and shrugged off the cardigan on her shoulders. Ubbe began to answer her, but lost his words when her body lost the cardigan. He was slowly beginning to realize that Y/N may be his dream girl. Her jeans were higher on her hips and he stopped breathing for a second when he came to the conclusion that she really was just wearing a bralette for a top. He could see a rose peaking out on her right hip and tried to stop himself from imagining how far down that design trailed.

A dainty giggle brought Ubbe back to the conversation again, “Umm”, he shook his head to clear it, “No there is nothing I’d like to change and I will let you know if I have any other questions. Thank you for being so helpful.”

“Okie dokie then! Let’s get started!” Y/N said clapping her hands together. “Uh, I think you’re going to have to take your shirt off.” she stated, her voice slowly softened to a whisper.

Ubbe chuckled to himself and began taking his shirt off and Y/N gently told him to leave it on halfway. He wanted the tattoo on his right forearm so only his right side had to be uncovered. Her client’s comfort was always her first priority and even though she would love to see that hunk of a man completely naked, she knew it was better to be professional.

She began to lay the outline down where they had decided to place it and tried her best to keep her gaze from wandering to his delicious abs and bulging arm veins. Y/N softly grabbed Ubbe’s hand and dragged him in front of the mirror. Trying to guide the muscular man was a little more difficult than she had expected. She tripped herself up while leading him and felt his other hand wrap around her waist, in hopes of steadying her.

Ubbe notice Y/N get her boot hung up on a floor board and quickly grabbed her waist with the hand she hadn’t already claimed. He pulled her to him with his right hand and steadied her with his left. He let out a sigh of relief once they were both steady. Y/N gasped, and her free hand went to rest on his chest. Ubbe looked her over to make sure she was okay. His eyes trailed up her body, eyes pausing on the curve of her waist and again on her breasts before quickly trailing back up to her face. Y/N’s eyes were zeroes in on Ubbe’s face. Her eyes were trained on his lips. Ubbe let out a hum that Y/N could feel in the palm of her hand and snapped her eyes up to his.

“I, uh,” she shook her head, “yeah, um, look over the outline in the mirror and from other angles. Every once in a while a client can find an angle that ruins the aesthetic, so make sure you love where it is at.” she said, gently pushing away from him and walking over to grab her drink off of the cart.

The refreshing drink helped her clear mind and her throat. Ooo, that man made her heart race faster than anyone before. After a couple of long pulls from her drink she looked up and smiled when she noticed he really was analyzing the design from every angle.

“This tattoo means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”, her voice soft but curious.

He nodded his head and made his way to the chair, “ It really looks phenomenal the way it is Y/N, thank you.”

She blushed and let out a soft “thanks.”

He settled into the chair and she dragged her rolling seat and cart across the room. She pulled gloves onto her hands and got ready to start. She turned his arm to get the best angle and Ubbe began to speak again.

“You have no clue who my family is, do you?” Ubbe continued when she shook her head. “”We run The High Seat, it is one of the largest incorporations in the country and most definitely the most expansive in companies and investments. Have you ever heard of the Wolf of Kattegat?” he asked. When her eyes squinted in recognition, he continued, “He is my father, Ragnar.”

She stopped him to ask “Aslaug’s husband?”

He chuckled, he could only imagine what his mother spewed about his father,”Yes, that Ragnar. Anyways, he has decided to step back from the business and work more legitimate in a position of advisor. I am taking over as the Wolf of Kattegat. We are also the commanding family of Ansuz”, he chuckled darkly when she flinched, “now, doll, you have nothing to fear from me or my family. Let alone any of my heathens. My mother adores you. So do Hvitty and Ivar. Hate to say it but I think I am under your spell as well.”

“I-I’m not sure how to respond to that,” she said, paying careful attention to his arm,”and my reaction wasn’t all from fear, a majority of it was because it is hard to believe that I am that naive. The leader of the most dangerous crime organization is sitting in my chair.” she let out another giggle, this one reminded Ubbe of Floki, “hell, I even interrogated your family before deciding to take you as a client. Why didn’t you just make me?”

“Mother taught me better than to demand a woman to do anything and I admire your dedication”, he noticed your confused look, “You only tattoo those you believe you can trust. In turn, your clients, my family trusts you. It is like a badge of honor to say my wolf was designed and ingrained in my skin. I refuse to taint that by behaving like a pompous ass.”

She smiled at his description of her work. Y/N knew her practice of vetting clients was peculiar. Most artists were more focused on the money they can make off a client. She wanted to know the person she was leaving a piece of herself with. Y/N had spent over a hundred hours perfecting the piece she was now inking into his skin.

The next couple of hours were spent talking about his family, the stress of his new position, and so much more. Ubbe made sure to ask questions about her family, interests and upcoming projects. At the end of the session, Y/N felt like she had known him for years. The Wolf of Kattegat seemed very down to earth for such a renown crime boss and CEO.

When the tattoo was finished, she cleaned it and instructed Ubbe to look at it in the mirror. His eyes scanned the mirror several times enjoying the way the tattoo made him look and feel. He twisted his wrist several times, analyzing the way the light was hitting the wolf. Y/N was bouncing on her toes. She wasn’t sure if she was excited or nervous. Ubbe’s face suddenly lit up and he grinned from ear to ear and Y/N couldn’t help but let out a little squeal of excitement.

She sat Ubbe back down and began reviewing how to care for the tattoo one more time while carefully wrapping his arm so the shirt wouldn’t irritate it. While she was elated that the god-like man before her loved her art, she knew he was about to leave. She felt like she truly knew Ubbe and the rest of the Lothbrok family. It hurt to think that it may have only been for the day.Once his arm was properly bandaged, she no longer had a reason to keep him with her. Y/N gently let him know it was finished. He immediately pulled out a stack of cash.

“Ubbe! This is too much! We already discussed price before you got here.”, Y/N said, exasperated.

“Yes , we did. That was before you brought this beautiful piece to life on my skin. That was also before I realized how important you would be to me.” He paused and let out a chuckle,” I will not ask you out today, lest you believe that is why I am paying you this amount. I am giving you this because you managed to make this tattoo more remarkable than I could ever imagine.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed when Ubbe implied his desire to date her. It was good to know that it was not a foolish desire held on her own. She loved his praise and was happy that he loved your most recent passion project. She also couldn’t help but feel empowered by his words.

“Thank you, Ubbe. I will see you in a week to see how it is healing.” she stated clearly trying to sound professional before leading him down the stairs and to the front of the shop.

Ubbe smiled to himself. He would not ask her out today, but he did make sure to slip his number into tha cash during one of their breaks. He only hoped she would notice it soon. The pair had carefully made it to the front windows of her shop. Both appeared to be thinking of a way to delay their goodbyes. Instead of procrastinating his eventual departure, Ubbe decided to embrace it and use it as an opportunity to embrace her as well.

Y/N froze when two burly arms wrapped around her waist. She slowly reached her arms up around him and rested her cheek on his chest. Ubbe took a deep breath of her vanilla scent and lightly pressed his lips against the crown of her head.

“Goodbye, princess”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

6:57 PM

So should I save your number in my phone under Ubbe or Wolf of Kattegat🐺?

@justahopelessssromantic @princessofthalia

#tattoo artist #ubbe x reader #ubbe's wolfpack #ubbe ragnarson #wolf of kattegat #request #my work #vikings imagine #vikings #ragnarssons #ragnar lothbrok #aslaug #sigurd #hvitserk #ivar #ubbe imagine #ragnarssons imagine #vikings x reader #ubbe lothbrok #vikings fanfic #ubbe oneshot #ragnarssons oneshot #ragnarson x reader #prince of kattegat #mafia #mob #motercycles

[sugarbutterbroadway]

When Davey Smiles

Golden rays of sunlight trickled in through the blinds pouring over Jack’s face. He scrunched his nose up and pulled the blankets over his face. He had already started shifting an hour prior but he had hope that he could slip back into the clutches of sleep. Now it was just pathetic how he was clinging onto the traces of drowsiness. He spent five more minutes with his eyes screwed shut before opening them. The sky was awake so he was awake or whatever the hell it was Anna said. He groaned and sat up a little, rubbing his eyes. If it was anyone else he would have left to not disturb them, but when Davey finally fell asleep, he slept like a rock. Jack chuckled, he could probably do an entire cirque du soleil act and Davey would only groan and roll over.

Man did he love his husband. He was so happy he got to say that, his husband. They had tied the knot a few months ago and he still got all giddy every time he said it. Davey was his husband, his sweet and handsome husband who was currently drooling on his pillow.

“Ew”Jack whispered, pulling a face. He was more disgusted that he thought Davey was still darling with spit pooling out of his mouth. He wasn’t exactly a quiet sleeper, he pulled faces and groaned and snored and sometimes even talked if Jack was lucky. It was mostly lesson plans and history facts so that got old fast. It wasn’t any better this morning, every so often he would groan and every single time it gave Jack a mini heart attack. You’d think he’d be used to it at this point but the kids he grew up with all slept like the dead, unless something was wrong. He worried his lip between his teeth and peeked over at Davey. He promised himself he would stop doing this years ago because it was creepy but he couldn’t help it. He watched his face and looked for any tells that he was having a nightmare. Davey didn’t have them often, but when he did they were always horrible. Furrowed brows,squirming and more often than not he cried. Jack had only seen them a few times but they always broke his heart, the way Davey shot up not knowing where he was, it was like watching a frightened child. So he watched and waited, looking for even the slightest tell. A few minutes had passed and he could finally stop holding his breath, Davey was fine. Of course he was, but Jack could never be too sure. He wanted to slap himself, it was too early to be freaking out over something that hasn’t even happened.

He needed to get out of bed. He was growing restless and it was only a matter of time before he kicked Davey from all his fidgeting and ended up with a 7am scolding. He shuddered, a tired Davey’s scoldings were not to be taken lightly. He slid out from underneath the blankets and nearly jumped back into bed the second his feet hit the floor. 

“Jesus christ!”he exhaled, it was freezing. He waddled over to the closet and pulled out a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and if they just so happened to be Davey’s, that was his business. The first order of business was to get some coffee in his system—decafe of course. The last time he had caffeinated coffee he was an anxious wreck the whole day. He shook his head, that was not a good day for anyone. He slid his feet into his bedroom slippers and padded out of the room. The minute he walked into the living room he heard the jingling of a collar.

“There’s my baby”he cooed, dropping to his haunches. Luna happily trotted over and placed her head on his knees. He of course took this as the cue to pick her up baby style and walk into the kitchen.

“You’re getting so big, Lu”He sighed, maneuvering her to one arm. “You’re not our little baby anymore. You think you have the right to turn one and get so big, huh?”he picked up a peppermint k cup and placed it in the keurig, god did he love wedding presents. “What’s next? You gonna move out and go to college? Gonna leave me and daddy?” he paused. Then quickly muffled a cackle with his elbow. “You’re literally our first baby, how does it feel?”

Luna squirmed in his arms and whined. 

“Fine”He huffed, lowering her to the floor. She quickly jumped from his arms and padded back into the living room. 

“I get no love from this girl”He grumbled, once his coffee was done brewing he put in an unnecessary amount of creamer that would send Davey reeling and sat in the living room. If Jack was going to drink coffee he wanted it sweet or not at all, it annoyed Davey to high heaven. He smirked, but it quickly fell into a pout. It was early,he was bored and it was a sin to call anyone before 10am. He pulled his knees up to his chest and tried to enjoy the silence, it wasn’t something he got much of these days. But he didn’t really care for silence, he liked their house loud and chaotic. Not the ethereal hallmark masterpiece it currently was. Their house. That was insane, they owned a house. Well—they owned the mortgage and the bonus was getting to live there.

It was a project to begin with, it was practically begging to be taken off the market and both of them fresh out of college jumped at the opportunity. With help from Medda with the cost and many many breakdowns, it’s finally a place they can call home. He loved their house, their home. He loved it when Davey made breakfast in the morning, it was always without a doubt in his underwear no matter the weather. He loved when Davey sang while folding laundry or showering or even putting his shoes on. He was just a sucker for Davey singing, he rarely did it and when he does it’s always cut far too short because he’s embarrassed. Davey may not like his voice but Jack could listen to it all day long.

He was just a sucker for Davey, especially his smile. The way his eyes shone and his grin reached his ears, man it could make an angel weep. Maybe Jack had spent too much time with him but he knew each one of Davey’s smiles and he loved most of them. The way his lips quirked up into a lopsided grin when he was explaining a lesson planned out for his students. The way he smiled first thing in the morning when his eyes had lost their haziness and focused on Jack. The way he managed to smile even in the worst of times with tears streaming down his face because I’ll be okay Jack, I promise there’s nothing to worry about. And Jack’s favorite, the way he smiled at babies. His eyes would soften and he would grin and coo at any newborn in the vicinity, it gave Jack a deadly case of baby fever. They had spent time with Davey’s family this past holiday season and Jack could hardly bear it with all the new babies around, let alone them and Davey.

“Oh my god a baby.” Jack barely had time to question before Davey was pulling him in the direction of a cousin he definitely hadn’t met. The two embraced briefly before Davey had focused on the baby in her arms.

“Her name is Anika”

He let out a little gasp“Anika”he repeated, his eyes sparkling. 

Before Jack knew it Davey was coaxing his cousin to go have fun and enjoy the gathering which left them both on baby duty. Jack was excited himself but he couldn’t help but get a kick out of Davey acting like a complete idiot. He had basically taken over as a stand-in parent with a burp cloth over his shoulder,her diaper bag and a pacifier as they lounged on the couch.

“Ani ani ani ani!”He cooed, tickling her chin, the grin never leaving his face. 

Jack grinned himself, that was the happiest he had ever seen Davey, wedding and other milestones aside. He had taken a million pictures and didn’t stop smiling even after they left. He may have gotten a little eggnog drunk but he just remembers Davey repeating the name Anika over and over to himself in the car. It was a beautiful name but it left Jack thinking. Was Davey trying to drop hints? Did Davey want a baby? His eyes widened.

Did Davey want a baby with him?

He shook his head and set his unfinished cup on the coffee table. It was too early to think about babies, it was only 7:30am and he was only 24, there was plenty of time to think about babies later. Besides, he already had one child to look after, three if you count Charlie and Race. he sighed happily, where was Luna anyways?

He heard a scream from the bedroom and a loud thud. He winced, found her. He sprung off the couch, and jogged into the bedroom. Well Davey was awake. Luna was laid comfortably on his side of the bed while he sprawled on the floor staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes. Jack could barely stifle his laughter as he put on a stern face.

“Luna Anne Kelly-Jacobs”He scolded, “Did you push your poor father off the bed?”

“It’s too early for this,”Davey said in disbelief. “The chaos usually doesn’t start until noon”

“Look at what you did”He continued, “You sent the poor man into shock!”

Luna didn’t even bother to pick her head up, he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Kids these days man”

“Jack”Davey said, shifting his eyes towards the green eyed man. “Please...shut up”

“Good morning to you too, handsome”He said, he extended his arm and Davey reached up to grab it. With one pull Davey was in his arms, swaying gently.

“Morning”Davey yawned, and leaned in to place a kiss on Jack’s forehead. He missed by a long shot and got the top of his ear, but it was the thought that counted.

“You’re a zombie this mornin”He teased. Davey sighed and wrapped his arms around Jack, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“My students are idiots,”Davey whimpered. Jack faltered for a second.

“Isn’t that kinda mean?”He chuckled.

“No no, they’re incredibly smart”Davey mumbled, “But oh my god they’re idiots”

“Ah, gotcha”He said, “What’d they say this time?”

“One of-”Davey cut himself off with a groan. “One of them looked me in my eye and told me that Amelia Earhart had big dick energy”

Jack quickly turned his head to the side and howled. If any of their neighbors were sleeping they weren’t now because he was dying.

“It’s not funny!”Davey whined burying his face in Jack’s shoulder.

“You’re right, it’s not funny”He said, attempting to compose himself “it’s fucking hilarious!”

“Jack-”

“But did they lie?”He asked, wiping his eyes. 

“No-”

“Raise their grade”He said, “I fucking love that kid”

Davey picked his head up and looked Jack square in the eye, “I couldn’t raise his grade if I wanted to, he’s top of the class”

And Jack was back in hysterics. “That makes it even better!”

That made Davey laugh a bit and he finally pulled away from the embrace shaking his head.

“You are a terrible influence”

“Tell this kid i’m his biggest fan”He pleaded, “Please, I’ll get on my knees and beg”

“I sure would like to see that”Davey laughed, then his face immediately dropped when Jack smirked. “No I didn’t mean it like-”

“Oh really?”He teased, “You wanna see me on my knees beggi-”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me not hearing you”Davey said, walking out of the room. And he was smiling. Jack followed behind him with a laugh. He loved mornings like this,he loved the days those mornings turned into. For once Jack Kelly finally loved his life.

Bonus

“Will you make us breakfast?”Jack said.

Davey rolled his eyes. “You just want to look at my butt”

“So?”

“At least buy me dinner first”

“We’re married!”Jack exclaimed, “What more do you want from me!”

“I want you to love me for more than my juicy dumptruck!”

“And you wonder where your students pick this shit up from!”

#newsies #broadway #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #newsies broadway #spot conlon #davey newsies #spot newsies #sprace #crutchie newsies #jack kelly x david jacobs #Paint The Sky

[lovecraftian-druid]

Pactborn - Part II

NOTE #1: This is a chapter-long post of a character’s backstory, so hit your Keurig for a warm cuppa and curl up under a blanket, cuz this isn’t a quick scroll sort of post.

NOTE #2: I’m changing this submission up from the second person tense of the previous post (the one I used when talking to my PC during her zero level session) to the first person tense, just to shake things up and try on different styles. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed experiencing it!

I wake up to the warmth of the morning sun on my face and the smell of bread baking downstairs: normally, this would feel like any other morning here in Khaadeehava, but this morning feels different. Maybe it’s because today the annual celebration of Al’adwa, the festival of Solune where everyone eats street food, plays games, and watches the solar eclipse; or maybe it’s because of the amazing dream I had again of the nice man with the shield who takes me flying over the city and the ocean (sometimes, I like to pretend that the big ships I see in my dreams are Papa’s); or maybe it was the weird feeling in my stomach when I woke up: I thought – no, felt – like someone was watching me…

Regardless, I throw my legs over the side of the bed, glancing over at my outfit for later, as Mama calls up to me, “Kal’ya, darling, a letter is just in – I think you know who sent it!” With my gangly form, I sprint like a whirlwind down the stairs to see Mama fixing breakfast in the kitchen and a letter waiting for me on the supper table – on it is the seal I’ve come to recognize and love: the insignia of the Felgran Fleet, the royal navy of the next region over from Ghaan. Papa joined the navy when I was five years old, and his work has kept him away at sea for sometimes months at a time for the last three years. It’s so exciting to read his notes when he can write though! He tells me stories of all sorts of different people, different types of weather, and strange sea creatures he’s had to encounter. I carefully tear along the side of the envelope to pull out his message to me – it reads:

                                              ~ Wayfarer’s Tavern ~

Savita 22nd, 410

My little cinnamon stick,

I hope this letter finds you well - my journey has taken me around the coast again into the frigid waters of the Gheaţă Ocean to a region known as Chladny (have you read about this place in your studies?). It never ceases to amaze me how we are only a mere 30 days apart and yet, where hot sand lies beneath your feet at home, frozen snow lies beneath mine as I stand here on the Zamuerzat Wharf. How I wish I could bring you with me! Perhaps when you are 10, then we will sail around the entire continent of Baenomir. Until then, I hope you will enjoy this trinket (called a “compass”) I picked up in one of the shops in the port - it is Dwarven made and is said to be able to tell you which direction you travel. May it direct your paths until mine direct me home to you. I know I have been gone longer than usual, but I may be home within the next month.

Give your mother my love and save the best of it for yourself,

Papa

I miss Papa so much! And I want to go sailing so badly! Sometimes, when Mama sends me on errands, I’ll go to the docks down in the Lahira Marina just to watch the ships go in and out of the port. I’d give anything to sail a great big ship like one of those.

Before my mind can wander far, I remember the part in the letter where Papa mentioned a trinket – my eyes scan the table for a package and quickly find it and unwrap it: it’s a…metal box? I study it more closely. Dad has told me before about dwarves – that they’re a little shorter than most humans but are very, very smart and can make the most incredible things out of metal! As I turn the “compass” over in my hands, I see that the bronze casing holds some notches and a couple dials behind a thick piece of glass. I spin around the room and watch the needles whirl around, and it makes me giggle. Rubbing my thumbs over the front of the compass, I feel the cold, shaped metal shaped into the four points on the device – they are of four faces, and all have tiny little red gems fitted into their eyes, ears, and foreheads. A couple of the faces look a little creepy, but one looks like a tiger and another looks like a grumpy version of Sultan Hunab! The top face, nearest the “N,” has a large hat like the sultan wears, and it’s around this hat that the cord of the compass is wrapped and tied.

Excited to show Mama, I run into the kitchen with my letter and trinket. “Look, Mama! Look what Papa sent!” I slap both down onto the table, eager for her to read the letter and to marvel at my new treasure. “Papa says he got this for me and that it shows me where I’m going! Look!” I shove the compass closer towards her face, obscuring her vision for a moment as her head jerks backwards in surprise.

“Hold on, Ka’lya, hold on, let me read your letter first!” she says as she chuckles warmly with shared enthusiasm. She finishes reading the letter then extends her hand to examine my gift before laying eyes on the grimacing faces, letting out a short gasp, and nearly throwing the compass as she recoils from it. I scramble clumsily to catch it before it hits the ground, barely getting a grip on it before it clambers to the floor. I know the look I give her is one of confusion and frustration, and she quickly tries to regain control of herself. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me…” she says as she wipes her hands on her apron and goes back to scrubbing out a bread pan.

Mama is usually a pretty tough lady: she does everything for Jida, Jido, and me. She might not be an adventurer like some of the people in the stories Papa tells me, but she still is kind of like a hero – she cooks and cleans and makes things for Jida and Jido’s stall down in the bazaar sometimes. Mama told me once that she even saw a dragon, but she doesn’t like to talk about it; she said it makes her sad when she thinks about it. Maybe this reminded her of something that made her sad once…

I don’t bring up the compass again as I quickly gulp down the delicious breakfast Mama made and, after putting my plate in the sink, I run upstairs to get ready for the day. Mama saved up some extra silver to buy me a new outfit for the Al’adwa celebration tonight – a new pair of pants with a nice tangerine and turquoise shirt. When Papa comes home, he brings home lots of coin to help support us while he’s gone; but the longer he’s gone, the more we have to do what Mama calls “cut corners.” She says that sometimes you have to do difficult things to get by. But for tonight, she must have put that aside, because as I look in the mirror, holding the sleeveless, silky-soft shirt up to my torso, I feel like it is much too nice for me to ever wear out of the house.

Carefully pulling the shirt over my head as though it could tear at any moment, I smooth it down over my long waist then begin to brush my long, tangled black hair. I look up for a moment to comb out a knot, and I meet my own glance in the reflection – I’m not much for prettying myself up, so looking in the mirror is a rare occurrence and seeing my two different color eyes always catches me off guard. My right eye is a dark brown just like Mama and Papa’s; but my left eye is a pale blue. Jida says that that is where an angel must have kissed me before I was born. Mama tells me that it’s unique and something to be proud of, but the other kids in town usually just make fun of me over it.

I must have been upstairs for a while now, because I’m surprised when Mama yells up to me that it’s time to head into the market district for the festivities. Before leaving my room, I brush a long section of hair down over my left eye. Joining Mama on the veranda, we walk hand in hand to the bazaar. “Your cousins Ravi and Baru will probably be here, you know – you’ll have to try to find them so that you can play together,” Mama encourages me, “just be sure to meet me back and Jida and Jido’s stall before the eclipse makes it get too dark, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. Even though the nice man that visits me in my dreams tells me that my blue eye is a gift, I still don’t know if I like it. I wish sometimes that I were just a normal kid, nothing special. Then maybe I would fit in better.

We meander slowly down the dusty downward slopes of the residential district to the Central Bazaar, and Mama coaxes me to run off while she visits with her friends. I wander aimlessly through the sandy streets for a while, picking up a few dropped pieces of copper and finding myself a food vendor where I buy a kabob – I eat it cautiously, almost leaning forward with each bite, careful not to drip any of the spicy sauce on my new outfit.

As I continue my half-hearted search for my cousins, a foot shoots out from behind a street booth, tripping me and causing the rest of my kabob to go rolling down the path, getting coated in dirt and dust. I look up, surprised, to find two other children pointing and laughing at me – Sai and Danikka. Sai, a scarlet-skinned fire genasi, is a notorious bully, and Danikka, a blue dragonborn, simply runs with him because she’s the tallest girl in our small little school and all the other kids are afraid of her.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, weird eyes?” Sai goads me.

“AAAAWWWWWW, you gonna cry?” Danikka whines as she chimes in, making me feel that much smaller as she towers over my body, now covered in dirt and kabob sauce. A fire begins to burn deep within me, and my ears and neck start to flush with anger as I pick myself up off the ground. “If you can’t watch your step with those eyes, then maybe you only need one of them!” Danikka threatens, and I barely get my fists up in front of my face in time to deflect her right fist as it comes sailing towards my left eye. Relief floods my system for a moment, and I let my guard down too soon as her opposite hand shoots out with a parry, hitting me square in the eye socket. I stumble backwards in pain, holding my left eye and trying not to cry; disoriented by the thumping of blood as my face begins to swell, I trip again – this time on myself – and fall backwards into a vacant market booth.

I scramble, nearly bear-crawling part of the way until I can properly erect myself, as I watch Sai closing in on me, a cruel grin on his face. He grabs for my ankle as I right myself, only catching the fabric on my loose, baggy new pant leg instead, causing the seam to split as I wriggle out of his grip. I dart off into the streets, my left eye wet with eye-watering pain, and I can hear the two of them giving chase as I dart like a gazelle in and out of alcoves and alleyways, trying to lose them.

After toppling a basket-weaver’s display stand to slow them down, I zigzag my way to a side street and duck beneath another empty booth where I crawl inside the booth’s sliding compartment door beneath the countertop. I wait here for what feels like forever, hearing them find my route, search briefly for me, then move on, still calling my name in unnatural sing-songy voices. I emerge from my hiding place, looking about feverishly for any signs of them, before an altogether different voice takes me by surprise.

“Why do you run, child?” asks a deep, velvety voice from behind me. I jump and turn with my fists raised in reactive terror. Rather than Sai or Danikka though, I see a tall tabaxi man, striped black and orange with a white neck. He stands from his stool behind the merchant booth next to mine, and I can tell there is no way he works at the bazaar: his clothing is much too fancy-looking to be a merchant. He steps forward to share my booth with me, his striped tail flitting back and forth gently from beneath his jade and gold colored brocade robe.

I keep my fists raised, mostly out of mind-numbing fear, as he walks softly on padded feline feet. “Don't allow those hooligans to cause you any despair - I can tell that you are strong and will go on to great things,” he reassures me with a wink, slowly and cautiously bringing one hand up to dust off my shoulders while the other hand lifts a pipe to his mouth. Squinting with my one good eye, I do a double-take before realizing that there is something off about this man’s hands since they look like they are on the wrong wrists. I catch myself staring and quickly – and likely obviously – try to avert my eyes. He doesn’t seem to either notice or care as he continues, “Oh, where are my manners, I suppose I should tell you my name so that I'm not a stranger: you may call me Gilgapaka. And what is yours?"

I swallow a hard, dry lump in my throat before looking up into his large, golden, vertical-slitted eyes – “My name is Ka’l,” is all I can get out. My whole head is now throbbing with pain, and I feel too dizzy to run even though my mind is telling me I should; even so, he seems kind enough to feel bad for me. My eyes, his hands…maybe we’re not all that different after all? Maybe he knows how I feel? Wishing Papa was here, I break down in tears and briefly sob into the tiger-striped man’s side before quickly pulling myself back and rubbing my eyes dry.

“My, what a lovely name that is,” the tabaxi gentleman says as he gently brushes my hair from my face, tucking some of it behind my left ear, “could you write it down for me?" He pulls from his pocket a large piece of parchment covered in lots of beautifully-written words, a lot of them pretty long. I feel bad writing on the paper as it looks important, so when he offers me his piece of charcoal, I try to squeeze my name down in the bottom section that doesn’t have any words on it. He holds it up to the waning sunlit sky as the moons begin their encroachment upon the sun, slowly closing in on both sides of it with each passing moment leading up to the midday eclipse that is to take place in a mere matter of hours. I look up at the parchment, too – I feel a small amount of shame at the sight of my penmanship, shaky with leftover adrenaline coursing through my body like a frightened mouse. He seems pleased with it though since I see him smile at it before saying, “Thank you – I hope we meet again soon, young Ka'l. If I see those nasty children again, I’ll be sure to teach them a lesson for you…and remember: you’re very special. Don’t go forgetting it."

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. He takes one more long puff from his pipe before leaving me alone in the abandoned booth and striding off into the street. I rub my eyes again, but when I look back up, he is gone altogether from the path. Suddenly curious, I rush out into the street, looking this way and that way for any sign of him among the other people milling about in the bazaar, but there is no sign of him anywhere. I don’t even hear the voice of Mama calling out to me as I look down at my clothes…there is not a stitch out of place nor stain to be found.

Quick credit to my amazing cousin (and - coincidentally - the person behind this PC) for helping me with the amazing photos up top.

If you’re interested in keeping up to date with posts on our story’s characters and their origins, let me know (and thank you to all who already have interest)!

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites​, @mayvinwrites​

#writeblr #Fantasy Writing #dnd #character backstories #Beyond the Forsaken Mountains #Ka'l #Gilgapaka #Khaadeehava #signing your life away #let's make a deal #pactborn #writing #character development

[virgilfingsanders]

3:38

TW: Death, Gore, mentions of getting stabbed.

Couple: Analogical

Prompt: Person B (Virgil) knowing they're going to die from blood lose thanks to the gaping wound they're bleeding from. They call Person A (Logan) and have a casual conversation, telling them they love them one last time, instead of calling for help.

~~~

To Virgil, there was something unGodly about the timeframe 2 to 4 am. There always had been, starting when he was a teenage who stayed up to late on Tumblr and Instagram, and, he assumed, their always would be. Now 26, Virgil had an valid reason to be up from 2 to 4 am: Plan B, the high end night club in the middle of the city, wasn't going to run itself, and Virgil would hardly let all his hard work be for nothing, regardless of how anxious he is. Sure, owning a Club wasn't a 'Picture Perfect' job, but if Virgil didn't do it, then who would?

Certainly not people like his husband, Logan, who was a College Professor. Not that Virgil minded his husbands Job, but it often made it a struggle to spend any time together. Virgil needed to be at Plan B on the weekends, when Logan was off, and Logan left for the day around the time Virgil got home. But they had a way of making it work. Logan didn't have classes on Monday, and Virgil never worked Wednesday's, somehow making their less than ideal schedules work perfectly.

Maybe that's why Virgil had been so eager to get home. It was 3:38am on a Monday morning. The sooner he got home and crawled into bed, the longer he'd get to cuddle with Logan. Virgil had been so eager, in fact, that he didn't hear the man walk up behind him.

He didn't hear him pull out the knife. He didn't see a face in the darkness. All he saw was the stars above him, and the empty parking lot in the back of the club. Plan B closed at 2, and Virgil had been the one to lock up today. The only car in the parking lot was his own.

He could feel the blood running out of his stomach onto the parking lot, and realized he probably wouldn't live. Instead he'd bleed out on the cold cement of his own property, behind his own club. No one would even find him until Joan or Roman came in tomorrow, which probably wouldn't be until 6 or 7.

Virgil fished for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. 3:39 blinked up at him, the box letters somehow calming. It didn't take long to unlock the phone - the password being his and Logan's wedding date - and to get to contacts. What did seem to take forever, though, was waiting for Logan to pick up.

"G'mornin' love. When'll you b'home?" Logan asked, slurring his words together in his half asleep state. In the flat Virgil and him rented, he was laying the king sized bed, eyes closed, and barely awake enough to answer the phone. He wasn't necessarily concerned at the moment, Virgil called at 4 am all the time when he had to stay at club overnight to deal with paperwork and didn't want Logan to worry.

"I can't be home until tomorrow, Starlight. Probably not until tomorrow evening, or even Tuesday," Virgil said, trying to apply pressure to the stab wound in his stomach, knowing very well that it wasn't doing anything. Instead, he mainly focused on the stars he could see, unable to make out constellations due to the light pollution of the city.

"Should I be worried that you're cheating on me with Roman?" Logan asked, his voice sounding a little more awake, but not much. He was still tired, and slightly upset. Logan knew, rationally, the Club that Virgil owned and operated would take a lot of time, but staying their for 2 nights? That seemed a bit excessive.

"No, no, you're the only one for me Starlight. I just - uh, I just got super backed up on paperwork. I'm trying to set up a new Club in the next city over, and, uh," Virgil spoke rapidly, hating lying but thinking it was better than the truth. "I just got a stupid 'mounta paperwork to do."

"Are you lying to me?" Logan asked, jokingly, as he rolled out bed and made his way to the kitchen. Virgil had a of stuttering and rushing his words when lying, but he also did that when nervous or excited or tired, and was, generally, very straightforward.

"Never, Starlight. D'you remember our first date?" Virgil asked, catching his breathe at the end and hitting the mute button just in time for a coughing fit. He was now coughing up blood, how perfect.

"O'course I do, darling. You took me stargazing. We drove an hour and a half away from the city just so there wouldn't be any light pollution and we could name the constellations. We talked about the multidimensional theory and you sang Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade while we danced," Logan whispered breathlessly, remembering that day when he was barely 17 years old. He made his way to the kitchen, making a single cup of coffee using the Keurig.

Virgil clicked the unmute button, laughing breathlessly into the phone as he remembered the amount of panicking he'd done over that night. He'd swapped his usual Panic! At The Disco shirt for a blood red button-up, but kept the black ripped skinny jeans he still wore to this day, and converse.

"My favorite death theory is still the stars," Virgil said, grinning slightly in his weakened state as he counted the stars he could see. Logans laugh carried through the phone, making Virgil's body automatically relax.

"You always were found of that one, even though it's highly illogical."

"Do you remember, 3 years later, when I asked you to marry me?" Virgil asked, keeping his eyes open, on the twinkling stars. If he closed them he may never open them again, and dying without seeing Logan one last time was not something he wanted.

"Yes, I do," Logan said, taking a long sip of his coffee before closing his eyes as he leaned against the Island in their kitchen, reimagining that night. "We drove out to the same spot, but instead of staying on the little hill to stargaze we walked around the surrounding forest until it got dark. You managed to recreate the night of our first date perfectly. Same meal, same constellations, you were even in the same outfit. At the end of the dance, you asked me to marry you, and I couldn't help but say yes."

A small smile slipped onto both of their faces as they thought about that night, noth going silent for a few minutes. It had been magical in every sense of the word. They'd ended up falling asleep on the hill and driving back in to the small apartment they'd shared in the morning, planning on giving their family the news within the week.

"D'you remember the little cabin?" Virgil asked, his voice slowly getting weaker. He could taste the blood on his teeth, which was making him sick, and it was getting harder to hold the phone to his ear ad he spoke.

"Of course," Logan said, the memory of the Log Cabin in the woods and the idea of spending a summer there coming back to him. "There was a little walking path to a long cabin with a wrap around porch. The cabin seemed in perfect condition other than the fact that there wasn't anyone there. I'd love to go and stay there. Investigate the forest of the surrounding area and watch the stars every night."

"You're birthday's next week, Starlight. We're going to spend a week in that cabin. I already cleared it with you're boss. The key to the cabin is hiding in the glovebox of my car right now," Virgil slurred his words together, the stars losing their dimness as the pain began to take over. Logan rolled his eyes at Virgs confession, the boy never could keep secrets, even for the sake of someone's birthday. "I've gotta go now, love. I'll be home tomorrow, Logan, I'll be home tomorrow."

"I love you, Virgil, don't overwork yourself," Logan said softly, finishing his cup of coffee and putting the mug into the sink.

"And I love you, Logan. More than the moon and sun and all the stars. You're my Starlight."

Logan smiled at the slurred words, assuming his husband was exhausted from a long day. In Logans mind, Virgil would fall asleep on the couch in his office, forgetting to charge his phone. He'd probably wake up, make a cup of coffee, forget to eat, and get started right away on paperwork, not even thinking to charge his phone until his lunch break, which would last 20 minutes at most. He'd come home around 6ish, complaining about office work, and would try, and fail, to sneakily wrap his arms around Logan while he was cooking dinner. With those thoughts in mind, Logan hung up and made his way back to bed, curling up in the warm covers and falling peacefully asleep.

Virgil pulled the phone away from his ear, barely making out a blurry '4:16 am' before his world went black. He smiled slightly, Logans voice in his head repeatedly saying 'I love you, Virgil'.

~~~

One titled 4:16 about Logan finding out about it and grieving? Maybe.

#analogical #character death #virgil #virgilsanders #Logan #logan sanders #virgil sanders #logic #anxiety #night clubs #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides #virgil anxiety #logan x virgil #virgil x logan #ts logan #ts virgil #ts roman #ts #roman mention #joan #joan mention #thomas sanders #text post #txt #writing wip #new wip #i asked my friend how long itd take for someone to bleed out because of this #at 11pm

[spartanguard]

always pass on what you have learned

so @optomisticgirl found this twitter thread and told me I had to write Captain Cobra in the same situation. It took a little bit but here it is: 1.9k of Captain Cobra/dad!Killian fluff. slightly canon-divergent (Henry hasn’t left yet when Hope is a baby, but he IS an adult—so if you don’t like reading about him doing adult things, even just in passing, back away).

summary: Henry had a visitor last night. she hasn’t left yet and it’s morning. will Emma notice? or will they hide away and make a break for it? Killian is eagerly watching (with his sidekick, baby Hope) to find out.

It was a testament to Killian’s well-honed captain’s eye that he was able to pick out the slight anomaly in the usual prim order, despite the early hour and his sleep-deprived state.

He’d just hit the bottom of the stairs with his teething infant daughter on his hip—who had decided that 4 am was the perfect time to wake up wailing and that 8 am was when she wanted breakfast—when he noticed the unfamiliar pair of shoes sitting at the end of the row of boots and sneakers in the foyer. They weren’t Emma’s style, and certainly were too large for Hope; that left only one option:

“Well, darling. It seems as though your brother’s lady friend spent the night.” Hope babbled back at him in response, green eyes wide. “It looks like today will be more interesting than we thought.”

Henry wasn’t necessarily in trouble or anything; the lad was 18—nearly a man grown. And he’d endured enough lectures from both his mothers on the many modern contraceptives that he would have that end of things covered (and if not, then he was old enough—and had a strong enough support system—that he’d be able to deal with the consequences). Emma would probably be displeased, but she knew she couldn’t stop him. And honestly, they couldn’t say much given that they’d surely done worse—Hope being the evidence of their late-night activities.

So Killian’s curiosity was just that: who on earth had Henry been fucking last night? He hadn’t dated anyone since breaking up with Violet last year. And would she get out past Emma’s notice?

(“Fucking” seemed a crude term to use, but Killian had no other words to describe the sounds coming from Henry’s bedroom as he rocked Hope back to sleep earlier. Lovemaking, it was not.)

He’d just started feeding Hope her favorite squash purée when the stairs creaked, making him pause with the spoon midair. It was too early for Henry to be up on average, but if he was trying to sneak someone out, then maybe…

But it was Emma who blearily shuffled into view, eyes barely open but feet moving on instinct toward the Keurig. “You gonna stare at me or you gonna feed her?” she quipped, as Hope protested the delay in her meal.

“Both,” he replied easily, complying with his daughter’s demands and never missing a moment to ogle his beautiful wife. In the relative silence that followed, the only noises heard were the gurgling of the coffee contraption and Hope’s happy smacking of her mouth as she ate.

No sounds came from the room above, even once the smell of pancakes and bacon filled the house.

“His loss,” Emma concluded with a shrug as she wiped the last bit of syrup off her plate with what was left of her small pancake mountain. She savored her final bite, setting her fork down and leaning back in her chair. “Well, I was going to start working on laundry and cleaning the bathrooms, if you wanna clean this up and keep this one occupied?”

“Sounds perfect.” Hope might be slowly munching on her puffed cereal right now, but once she was loosed, it was a full-time job keeping her from climbing and crawling into places she wasn’t meant to go. Emma had put up some magical barriers, but if the occasional sparks they saw in their baby’s hands were any clue, it was just a matter of time until those became useless.

And he was also extra intrigued to see what Henry and his friend would do now—or if Emma would find them first.

Once the kitchen was cleaned and the puffs devoured (and subsequently cleaned off the floor, where they of course had been stepped on), Killian was keeping Hope occupied in the living room with some toys, trying to get the 11-month-old to take her first steps. Alas, it wasn’t meant to happen for her today, but he did finally hear movement coming from Henry’s room—the creak of the floorboards as two individuals made their way around the space; he had a decent idea of what they were doing.

He could also hear Emma cleaning the bathroom in the next room over. And could see their visitor’s shoes still by the door.

“What do you think, little one?” he asked Hope, pulling her up to standing as she tried to crawl into his lap. “Will your mum discover your brother and his friend, or the other way around?”

Hope’s responding gibberish was as much an answer as he expected—and, oddly, seemed to fit the scenario.

“It seems we’re in agreement, love.”

Nothing developed, though, by the time Emma finished upstairs and then went down to the (now finished) basement to handle laundry. If anyone wanted to make a move, now would be the perfect time; they had a 10-minute window while Emma folded the clean wash.

Killian was reading to Hope from a giant stack of books (mostly from Belle, of course) when finally, footsteps alighted on the stairway. He tried to maintain his focus on the story while watching to see who came down from the corner of his eye—especially since the steps were far too light to be Henry’s.

He had to rein in his gasp when he saw Ava—Henry’s best friend—hop off the landing into the foyer, grab her shoes, then tiptoe back up, not casting a glance his way but clearly trying to avoid being seen. The sound of rushing water from the bathroom shortly followed, to no surprise; it was past 11 am, and no one had a bladder that strong.

His amusement at the whole situation was quickly turning to wonder: why would Henry feel the need to hide a relationship with his best friend? It wasn’t as though she was a stranger; in fact, she was one of Hope’s favorite people. Of all the ways the lad had managed to get in trouble over the years, this was far from anything awful.

Just as he was considering sending Hope after them—neither teen could say no to her adorable face—Emma came back up from the basement and continued on up. The waiting game would continue, though he had to assume it couldn’t go much longer; they were no doubt starving, but far too intelligent to get back to what they’d been doing last night.

By this point in the day, he could only assume the kids were waiting for Emma’s usual afternoon nap with Hope. (She never intended to fall asleep when she put the babe down; but no one begrudged her the rest. Nursing was hard.) That’s what he’d have done, at least; but he also had never quite been in this situation. Before he turned pirate, he was too focused on the Navy to pay much attention to the fairer sex; after, it only helped his reputation to be caught leaving.

Not much later, Emma came to retrieve a drowsy babe from Killian. “Someone’s definitely ready for a nap,” she assessed, scooping the littlest Swan-Jones into her arms. “I’ll be back down soon.”

“Take your time,” he said as he stood to give her a quick kiss, knowing full well neither of them would be seen again for a couple hours.

Silence settled on the downstairs soon, and Killian set about cleaning up the mess of toys in the living room before turning his attentions to the rest of the downstairs—and keeping out an ear for any other happenings.

He was dusting the frames that hung above the fireplace when two careful sets of steps made their way down the stairs. There they were. But he remained focused on the task at hand, letting them slip out seemingly unnoticed. They were good kids, they weren’t doing anything bad—they were just being ridiculous.

In his peripheral vision, he saw the door quietly swing open and Ava creep out. Once she was out of sight, he turned his head and managed to catch Henry’s eye, who evidently was watching to make sure they weren’t seen.

Henry paused as they stared at each other and gulped, which just made Killian smirk. And give him a wink. Henry gave an awkward nod—both knowing they’d chat later—and followed his (girl?)friend out.

Several hours later, Emma was upstairs giving Hope a bath while Killian prepped dinner for the adults when Henry returned. (Emma had been a little bummed that Henry left without saying goodbye, adding that “he should have just invited Ava over”; Killian held his tongue.)

“Smells good,” Henry commented as he entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge. “New recipe?”

“Sort of; still trying to replicate my mother’s,” Killian replied as he stirred the sauce, to go with the pasta that was cooking on the next burner. “Should be done in a few. I’d imagine you’re rather starved after the day you’ve had.”

He glanced at Henry from the corner of his eye; the lad had stopped in the middle of opening his can of soda and was turning a color that matched the tomatoes in the pot.

Henry gulped. “Am I...am I in trouble?” he stammered out.

“No,” Killian answered casually; there was no sense in torturing the boy.

“Does Mom know?” he continued, still visibly nervous (but he at least finished popping the tab on his can).

“Does she need to?” Killian tossed back. “I was always under the impression you and Ava were just friends.”

“We are...I think...I’m not sure.” Henry took a sip of his drink and leaned against the adjacent counter. Killian silently looked over at him, letting him continue. “We’re just kind of fooling around, I guess. Like, we like each other, but with her going to UMaine in the fall and me leaving, we don’t really want to get super involved. Does that make any sense?”

“Aye, it does; that’s tricky.” Killian remembered a similar feeling on the outset of things with Milah—but was pretty sure Henry didn’t want to hear the sordid details of his relationship with his grandmother. (They talked about her, obviously, but Henry mainly wondered what she was like, and Killian was more than happy to oblige.) “Just...try to make sure no one’s heart gets broken. And make sure you’re being safe.”

Henry’s blush had been fading, but then it returned in full force. “We are,” he insisted. “Wait—you heard us?”

“Much to learn, you have, young padawan.”

The Star Wars reference drew a chuckle from Henry, but he quickly tossed back, “Yeah, well, it’s not like you’re a Jedi Master at being quiet either.”

“On the contrary, Master Henry—I don’t let anyone hear anything I don’t wish them to,” he countered with a wink.

“Eww! Seriously? Come on, Killian!”

Killian was laughing quietly at the reaction when Emma joined them. “‘Come on, Killian’ what? That smells good,” she added, echoing her son.

“Oh, nothing—he’s just trying to make me lose my dinner before I even eat it.”

Emma playfully swatted Killian’s shoulder. “Be nice! Especially since Prince Henry has finally graced us with his presence.”

The conversation fell into banter and discussions of plans for the week ahead, as normal as ever. No reference was made to the previous night by either man, and Emma still seemed oblivious; Killian and Henry were fine to leave it that way, and it was never mentioned again.

But Killian did notice that Henry used a bit more discretion with visitors from then on.

And he may have been a bit on the loud side when he and Emma made love that night. It was only fair.

thanks for reading! tagging @kat2609 @thesschesthair @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @word-bug @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @queen-mabs-revenge @flipperbrain @sherlockianwhovian @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich​ @killian-whump​ @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells 

#captain cobra #captain cobra ff #killian jones ff #my ff

[stevenrogers5-blog]

Still the one

Summary: You spend a well needed day with your boyfriend. 

Warnings: FLUFF AND ADORABLENESS! 

A/N: If i am going to be honest, it’s very late and i have a head cold. But i had my first request!!! This was requested by the sweet @mlcmcconnell22 . I hope i made your dreams and thoughts come to life. Yes there is a twist of my own personal things. But i seriously hope you love it! Also guys, do not be afraid to request things! I want your ideas and dreams to come to life! I would be so honored if you guys picked me to let that happen! I love you guys with all of my heart! University S.L.U.T tag list is still open and my permanent list is also open!! 

You stretch your body out as you start waking up. Mornings use to be your least favorite parts of the day. But after a year of being happily with Steve, they became your favorite. To wake up to him was like never stepping out of a dream. So you happily sigh as you pull your limbs closer to your body before rolling over and looking at a still sleeping Steve.

You decide that today you wanted it to be just a you two day. You two didn’t see many of those. Even though you lived together, it was impossible. With both of you being on the team now. It was like Tony was trying to keep you seperated. But not today. Today was both finally had the day off.

You start to sit up but Steve’s body catches on instantly, wrapping itself tighter around yours. You smile but shake your head as you try to pull his arms from your body. He groans lightly as his eyes slowly opened. You pout at him as he just pushes his face into the pillow.

“No. Stay. Please. It’s so warm.” His deep, sleep laced voice erupts from him. You shake your head as you push at his arms.

“I need to go make breakfast…” You say back. He shakes his head back at you. You sigh as you slowly give into his requests, slipping back into his chest.

“There you go.” His voice whispers lightly into your ear. You roll your eyes as you turn and face him. He kisses your nose earning a scrunched face and an annoyed look. “Oh come on now. Smile!”

You just huff at him. He lays there before getting a wicked smirk forming across his face. You narrow your eyes as you start to push on his chest. But his grip kept your body perfectly still against him.

“Steven Rogers. You let me go!!” You cry out as his hands start their attack. He tickles you, earning loud laughter and annoyed slaps from you. He earned that smile even if it was against your will.

“Say you love me!” He says over your laughter. You try to calm your breathing long enough to repeat him.

“I do love you!” You call out. His fingers come to a stop allowing you to escape his grip. “Or maybe i don’t!” You get up from the bed and stick your tongue out at him. He slowly sits up and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You dare taunt the Captain America.” He scolds. You mimik him and cross your own arms.

“Yeah. I dare you to come get me.” You taunt. He narrows his eyes. He slowly uncrosses himself and in a flash he was to his feet chasing after you. You squeal as you take off out the door and down the hall. You scream as he almost grabs your side as you turn and take off down the stairs. You both move down the stairs. As you hit the bottom of the stairs you take a sharp right and move into the hallway that leads to the kitchen.

“Get back here!” Steve yells as he soon catches up to you. You slam through the door and round the island standing in the middle. You stop as Steve stops on the opposite side.

“You’re just mad because you aren’t as fast as i am.” You squeak as your chest moves

up and down from the deep breaths. You cough a little as you both try to catch your breaths.

“You are not faster than me!” He exclaims you tisk at him.

“Then why haven’t you caught me yet? If you’re so fast, you should already have me in your arms.” You tease as he slowly creeps towards you. But you catch on and move in the opposite direction. You spot the door that leads to the living room is just next the island.

“I’m taking it easy on you.” He explains. You laugh as you both creep around the island.

“You’re lying. You’re old and not as fast. Admit it!” You exclaim.

“Never!” Steve exclaims back. He goes to pounce on you but you backup and out the door into the living room. Steve stumbles but catches himself. He soon follows suit after you and barges through the door. But stops in his tracks. “Y/N? Where are you?”

You cover your mouth as you sat behind one of the couches. You hear his footsteps come closer. You clench your jaw as they stop just above you. Then he appears right behind you, earning a scram from you.

“Found you!” You go to take off once more but the wire from the lamp catches your ankle and you fall face first into the ground.

“Ow!” You cry out as your ankle hangs there from the wire. Pain was shooting from both ends of your body.

“Oh god babe.” Steve says as he pushes the couch away to give him space to help you. You feel tears forming in your eyes as your mind is trying to figure out how you got here. “Oh no. Don’t cry.”

Steve untangles your ankle from the wire and slowly turns you on to your back. You look at him teary eyes as he soon scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the stairs. He carries you up the stairs and back to your bedroom. He walks past the bed and into your shared bathroom. He sets you gently on the counter. He turns and walks over to the closet in the bathroom. He leans forward to search through the boxes till he finds the ankle wraps. He comes back and kneels in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper through tears. He gently wraps your ankle and kisses it softly.

“Don’t be sorry darling. Accidents happen. We are lucky it’s not broken. But i guess i’m just going to have to carry you everywhere now.” He says as he smiles sweetly at you. You huff as few more tears stream.

“I am such a klutz sometimes. I feel bad now.” You say through more tears. Steve wipes them away before standing in between your legs.

“Do not feel bad. It was mostly my fault anyways. I was the one who started this mess. If anything i feel bad for causing this.” Steve says as he places his hands on either side of your face. You pout at him just before his kisses you softly. You sigh as your arms wrap around the back of his neck. He pulls away slowly, catching a few last tears with his fingers. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.” You mumble back before kissing him again. He scoops you up in his arms, earning a light giggle from you. He carries you out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Once in the Kitchen, Steve places you down on the island. He turns on the keurig and places your cup under it. He takes his mug out from the cabinet. He places it next to the keurig and finally turns back to you.

“What would you like for breakfast?” He asks.

“What do you want?”

“Well. i’m personally feeling Pancakes and fruit.” He says as he turns and opens the cabinet. He grabs the pancake mix out of the cabinet and places it next to you. He brings you a big bowl and the rest of the needed ingredients.

“We have strawberries, bananas, and whipped cream.” You say. He walks over to the fridge and pulls out the strawberries. You start to make the pancake mix as you sat on the counter. The keurig stops pouring your coffee and Steve returns to it. He pours the needed cream and sugar in it before handing the mug and some medicine for the pain to you. You kiss his cheek as you take the items from him. He smiles and kisses your cheek back. You take the medicine and sigh happily as the warm liquid went down your throat.

“Okay, mixture ready?” Steve asks as he has the pan heating up. You nod as you stir it once more. He picks the bowl up and moves over to the stove top. You pull the cutting board and fruit closer to finish his job. Even though you were hurt, you were still going to help.

After a pile of pancakes have formed and the mixture was empty from the bowl, Steve places the plate right next to you. He grabs two plates, handing them to you. He takes the whipped cream out of the fridge and places it next to you as well. He picks up his cup of coffee and moves to the island. He sits down on a stool. You plate his food, handing him it. You both eat happily, sharing conversations and laughter through the meal.

Everything about these moments made you feel some way that you could never explain. Your love was so great for Steve. Looking at the way you two have grown within the year. You wanted to grow old with this man. To forever live with him. He was always there for you when you needed a person the most. To love someone so beautifully. To be able to hold the one person you never wanted to let go of.

People would always ask you what your greatest achievement was. Most would expect you becoming an Avenger. But you always said Steve. Many people would give you a curious look. But it wasn’t a lie. To love him was to accomplish the great achievement. And you were rewarded every day with a kiss and a smile on your face. He still is and forever will be the one.

Permanent Tag List:

@ailynalonso15  @patzammit @autumnlovebaby @i-love-marching-band @philosophies-angst

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve fluff #Rogers #steve x reader #steve x female #Captain America #Captain Marvel #Avengers #Marvel #Marvel Fluff #Marvel Family #Fluff #love #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky #Steve Marvel #Daddy Steve #Steve smut

[not-another-imagine-blog]

Misadventures in Target (William Nylander)

starrygirl2014 said:

Could you do #112 from the prompt list with William nylander? ❤😀😘

#112: “You walked away. Not me.”

Word count: 1309

Author’s note: This is probably more lighthearted than you wanted it to be, but I need some fun prompts after this week.

Target is your comfort zone. There’s something about the vague smell of popcorn, coffee and home accessories that just soothes a person. You could browse the Dollar Spot for hours, and you weren’t ashamed that half of your wardrobe came from Target. Moving to Toronto, you were a little dismayed that Canada was completely devoid of your favorite store, which was why you made it your mission to hop the border to New York as often as you could. In your opinion, nothing bad can happen while you’re in a Target.

Unless you bring your boyfriend with you on his day off.

In your defense, William insisted on making the near-two hour drive to Buffalo with you, no matter how much you protested.

“I wanna do all the fun couple things that people do at Target! Plus, I’ve never even been to a Target before; I’ve either been in Canada or Sweden my entire life, and if I am in the States it’s for a game. Let me come with you!” After twenty minutes of hearing his pleas, you finally gave in.

The look on William’s face upon entering Target was something that you wished you were able to take a picture of. Although the cliche makes you cringe, he really does look like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide as he takes in the vibrant lights and various signs for whatever holiday is three months away from now.

“So this is why everyone likes Target so much.” He says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but giggle as you grab a cart, placing your purse into the basket while grabbing William’s hand, making sure he doesn’t get trampled by soccer moms looking for their next deal.

“C’mon, Willy, let’s get out of the way.” You absentmindedly wander towards the Dollar Spot, falling into a familiar routine as you scan through the different items.

“(Y/N), look!” William’s excited tone makes your head shoot up, and you smile at the sight of him holding up a package of Sabres stickers. “Should I get these and stick them on the guys’ stuff?”

“If you wanna die then go for it.” You turn away, but the snickers and sound of plastic hitting cart let you know that William really is going to go for it.

“Let’s go check out some other stuff!” The cart is suddenly snatched from your hands as William jumps onto the back of it and rides it down the aisle.

“Willy!” You hiss, walking quickly behind him before breaking out into a light jog. “Stop it, you’re 21!” Stopping the cart in front of the shoes (your secret weakness, if Target itself isn’t considered your weakness), William looks at you with a pouty face.

“Loosen up a little, darling! Do you wanna ride the cart?” He suggests with an innocent smile. You shake your head and sigh, counting to ten so that you don’t get angry.

“Can we please just grab the groceries and go? Please?” William’s eyes soften as he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course. I’m assuming you have a list?” The cheeky smile on his face doesn’t dim as you pull out one of your many predictable organization tactics.

“Would you expect anything else?” Your shopping excursion continues just as smooth as you had expected it to be, with a few exceptions of William trying to sneak junk food into the cart and you placing it back onto the shelf, reminding him of how strict his diet is and how a sugar coma would not do the team any good.

It’s while you’re trying to find your favorite Keurig coffee brand that the trip goes to hell. You find your brand and toss it behind your shoulder into the cart before remembering that William’s also out of coffee.

“Babe, what coffee do you-” The sentence trails off as you turn to find absolutely no sign of William. “Babe?” You’re not quite sure why you called for him, obviously not expecting an answer as you’re faced with an empty aisle and hands full of some coffee that you’re not even sure he likes.

“Dammit!” You curse under your breath as you march down the aisle, towing the cart behind you. Quite honestly, you’re a little incensed. The way he’s acted today reminds you of shopping trips that you used to take with your younger siblings, yelling at them to be quiet and threatening to not buy them Icees if they didn’t stop hitting each other with pool noodles, of which you had no idea where they came from the majority of the time.

Each aisle turns up empty for signs of your missing boyfriend. After searching the food, haircare and bedding section (what can you say, you’re in love with a man who loves his 1,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets), you’re at a loss. You’ve resigned yourself to tracking him down through a PA system when you finally spot his light blonde head above shelves of video games.

“William!” You can’t help but to raise your voice at your adult boyfriend who literally wandered away from you like a five year old. His head snaps up and he smiles at you, holding a copy of whatever third-person shooter game is popular right now.

“Hey! Where’d you go?” You stare at him with your mouth slightly agape, not able to help the dumbfounded look that appears on your face.

“Are you kidding me? You walked away. Not me. I turn around and suddenly you’re gone! Jesus, did you sprint to the video games in the thirty seconds it took me to find our coffee?” You’re probably more mad than you need to be; after all, William is an adult. William averts his eyes from your gaze, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“I just might’ve.” He mutters as you sigh and roll your eyes.

“Seriously, do I have to threaten to send you to the car? Not buy you a treat? Why are you acting like a child?” William’s obviously embarrassed at being berated about this.

“You don’t have to yell at me like this. I was just excited to finally be doing normal couple stuff with you.”

“Normal couple stuff? Willy, we go on dates all the time!”

“Yeah, to the VIP box at Blue Jays games. Or to fancy clubs where we can get past the line because of who I am. We never get to just go grocery shopping, or grab tacos at midnight after going bowling. I just want to be a normal couple.” You’re not sure how to react. You didn’t know that William felt like this, and now you’re a little upset that you didn’t know how he felt.

“I didn’t know. Willy, all you have to do is ask. I’ll do anything with you. Hell, if you asked me to go rob a bank with you I probably would, because I love you that much.” William pulls you closer to him by your belt loops, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you so much that I’d take all the blame if we ever were to rob a bank. I’m sorry for acting like an idiot, (Y/N).” You can’t help the content smile that spreads on your face as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you. Let’s finish up shopping and then maybe we can go grab some tacos?” William nods.

“That sounds perfect. But, uh,” He stutters, and you look over at him to see a cheeky grin on his face. “Can we get a treat before we leave?” You laugh and grab onto the cart, William taking a hold of it as well as you two simultaneously start to push the cart down the aisle.

“Only if you’re good.” You tease.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #Toronto Maple Leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction

[thorne93]

Lost and Found (Part 5)

Prompt: Imagine finding a lost dog, but it’s not just anyone’s lost dog. Who will show up at your door to claim the pup?

Warnings: maybe language, lost dog…

Word Count:1646

Note: My precious doggie went missing on 6/10 and no one has spotted her or turned her in to the local shelters or anything. I miss her so much, but it inspired this fic. Texts are in italics. Thanks to my darling beta @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​

Tags: @amarvelouswritings​ @blackwidow-romanoff​ @cocosierra94​ @firstgal34​ @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @sebstan01 @camigt1999 @elleatrixlestrange

~~~~~~~~

A buzzing woke you up. Brad.

 “Are you coming into the office or working from home?” he asked.

 “What? Brad it’s only--” you started, groggily before you glanced at the clock on your wall. “Holy shit. I’m so sorry. I’ll work from home.”

 “Okay. What happened? You’re never late.”

 “I can’t say. Talk to you later.”

Before he could ask further, you hung up on him, glancing over to Sebastian. So it wasn’t a dream. Sebastian really slept with his arm around you. He looked so gloriously peaceful.

 As much as you wanted to curl back up in his arms, you knew that would be kind of creepy, so you just got up and made coffee, hating every step farther away that you got. As soon as you popped the pod in the Keurig, he woke up, stretching.

 “Woah, stiff neck,” he said.

 “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Yeah that couch isn’t the best for crashing.”

 “At least I had good company,” he said with a grin. “Thanks for letting me sleep here.”

 “Well, it’s not as if I’d kick you out,” you said with a slight laugh.

 He grabbed your hand on the counter and squeezed it. “Thanks again, I should probably go so you can work and stuff. Talk to you later?”

 “Yeah, definitely.”

 “Great.” He grinned at you before taking Chuffy back on his leash and leaving.

 “He stayed the night!” you texted Ida.

 “Hell yeah! Get you some!” she responded.

 “No, not like that. He just...we fell asleep together on the couch.”

 “That’s lame, but I guess congrats. :p So how was the date? Good I guess?”

 “Idk if you could call it a date.”

 “What did you do?”

 “Walked his dog, talked, watched TV, and ate.”

 “That was a date.”

 “Whatever, I gotta work. Ttyl. :p”

 You were giddy all day. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this happy or this excited to see or talk to anyone.

 Sebastian started to text you a few hours later, hoping that you were feeling okay after sleeping on his uncomfortable form. You assured him you would do it one hundred times over. It was a bit more flirty than you had been, but you were trying to take Ida’s advice. If you wanted this to go somewhere, you had to make it apparent that you felt the same about his advances so far.

 The rest of the day you worked comfortably from home, texting him all day. You talked about work, music interests, and hobbies a little bit. You were slowly but surely getting to know each other. Eventually, he made a comment about Chuffy though. He stated that his vet was disappointing him lately and not keeping proper records of him.

 “Oh, use my friend Ida. I brought Chuffy to her when I first found him. She’d love to take a look at him.”

 “Oh, really? That’d be great. Could you maybe take me tomorrow and we could get lunch afterwards?”

 You audibly gasped. He was asking you out again? This was a dream come true. Quickly, you checked your schedule and it was relatively free. You shot Brad a notice that you’d be out of the office in the morning until mid afternoon.

 “Yeah, I’d love to.”

 “Awesome. I’ll be at your place tomorrow morning. That cool?”

 “Sounds perfect.”

 “Great. I’ll see you then. Good night.”

 ----------

 The following morning, you ran around like a maniac, showering and scrubbing extra hard, fixing your hair in loose waves, fidgeting with makeup over and over again, you popped about thirty breath mints, rearranged everything in your house to look perfect, and at 9:30, Sebastian was there with Chuffy.

 Throwing open the door excitedly, you greeted him.

 “Hey! And hey there, buddy.” You crouched down to pat his furry head.

 “Ready to go?” he asked sweetly.

 Nodding, you reached back in to grab your purse and set off towards Ida’s office.

 “Have you lived in New York city long?” Sebastian suddenly asked.

 “Yeah, since I was 18. Came here for college, then all those shitty tech jobs I told you about, then figured it was a good place to put roots for a business.”

 “Did you think it was going to be that huge when you started?” he asked sweetly. “I mean, like, was that your goal or…?”

 You huffed out a laugh. Why was he so curious about you? You didn’t want to talk about your boring ass self.

 “Not exactly.  I just wanted something to cover the city, and within three years, we were being demanded all over.”

 “That’s highly impressive.”

 You shrugged and smiled. “I suppose. But what about you? Did you think you’d become a big time movie star?”

 “Oh, hell no,” he said with a smirk. “I was lucky to get a few small roles in things here and there and I thought I’d really made it, ya know? Five speaking lines and ten minutes of screen time was like a dream come true. I switched agents though when I got a lull in my career and it suddenly just shot off. I was reading more scripts than I could handle, being offered jobs, going to casting calls all the time…I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

 “No, no please, ramble away,” you encouraged.

 He smiled at you, a heartwarming, heart melting, breath-stopping smile before continuing. “So, yeah, I got a few good roles and pretty soon the whole thing took off and I couldn’t keep up with it.”

 “That sounds really nice. Is it everything you wanted?”

 “All that and a bag of chips,” he responded with a sideways grin and a wink at you.

 That wink nearly made you trip into traffic before Sebastian caught you.

“Y/N!” he called as he grabbed your jacket sleeve and pulled you back to him. You had never been this close to him before, but now you were two inches from his chest. “Be careful,” he breathed. My god, his aroma was even musky and heavenly. Was everything perfect about this bastard?

 “Yeah, uh, I’ll try.”

 Eventually, you made it to Ida’s office. You greeted the receptionist and she eyed Sebastian and it was all you could do to not bitch slap her, but then you remembered he wasn’t yours. She could eye-rape him all afternoon. He smiled politely at her before filling out a form for Chuffy. You two sat down together and it felt weird. You felt like friends, but not? You felt like you were dating...but not?

 Once he was done, they called you into an exam room. Ida came in, her eyes down on her clipboard.

 “Okay, so we’ve got Spinee--Y/N! What are you doing here?” she asked as she looked at you, then the dog, then Sebastian.

 “Well, Chuf--Spinee here has been sick lately,” you explained.

 “Yeah, when I feed him the same food he’s always had, he gets sick. I’ve tried switching brands but it doesn’t seem to help,” Sebastian explained as he looked at his furry companion.

 You motioned with your eyes to look at the dog and Ida gathered her jaw and finally shook her head.

 “Right! Well, let’s see. We can test for worms, heartworm. Y/n, did he throw up when you fed him?”

 “No,” you answered while shaking your head and shrugging.

 “Hmm, you might want to find out what kind of food she’s using,” Ida informed Sebastian. “Let’s get some blood and stool samples and we’ll let you know.”

 She took him back and you and left you and Seb alone in the exam room.

 “So how do you know Dr. Ida?” he wondered as he leaned over in the chair.

 “I met her years ago when I was first looking for a vet. I got a dog as soon as I started college and I met her and we just sort of hit it off. She’s a really great friend.”

 “She seems it. I hope she can fix him,” he said, clearly worried.

 Without thinking much about the gesture, you grabbed his hand. “Hey, if anyone can set your pup right, it’s her. She’s a miracle worker.”

 He stared down at your hand, but didn’t move it away.

 “Yeah?”

 You proceeded to tell him about Marvel and one other dog you had that each had really weird things going on with them and she figured it out and with a shot here, a pill there, they were right as rain.

 Ida returned, gave Seb some pills, and said to try the food you had given him. If he wasn’t better in a week, to call her and let her know. You both thanked her and started to walk out before she grabbed your arm like a vice grip.

 “Hold up, missy,” she hissed in a whisper. “Not so fast.”

 You rolled your eyes. “What?”

 “Now you’re running errands together?”

 “And going to lunch, is that a crime?”

“No, but that ass of his might be,” she said in a low voice as she peeked at his backside while he paid for the visit.

 “Ida!” you said in a hushed angry tone. “That ass is mine,” you insisted with a devilish grin. Ida wiggled her eyebrows as you left the office.

 “So, where to?” he asked sweetly.

 “I’m open to anything!”

 “I know a great Asian place up the street with patio seating for Spinee. That cool?”

 “Perfect.”

 Walking in a comfortable quiet, you longed to reach out to hold his hand. But you refrained. You got to the restaurant, ordered, and began talking again. It was an amazing morning to kick off work. You showed up happy, giddy, and full of buzzing energy. You got so much done, Brad wondered if you’d taken speed. Many people said you were glowing. Sebastian sent you a good night text message and you replied back with a sweet message.

#lost and found #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fic

[adriata-archive]

You Can Hear it in the Silence (10/?)

Modern AU. “We’ve been best friends for years and we act like an old married couple but we’d never date each other…right?”

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ff.net

A month passes, and while Emma and Killian try their best to go back to the way their friendship was before, there’s something fundamentally different. There has never been a time when the two of them were both in healthy, stable relationships (Killian’s love life mostly consisting of one night stands, and Emma’s consisting of, well, Neal), and it’s strange. Neither of them know how to manage it, not really, and it’s hard to fit both a best friend and a significant other in with work and school, especially when the best friend and significant other in question aren’t very fond of each other. They’re trying, though, and hopefully that counts for something.

While the rest of their friends are eager to see Walsh again, Emma keeps him separate from their group, for the most part. Not because she doesn’t love her friends and is against them getting to know Walsh, but because having to be careful around Killian is too damn difficult, where their friendship has alway been easy. Emma’s used to running when things get hard, and it’s taking every bit of her willpower to find a way to fight through this rough transition.

Work is a good distraction, and when the scumbag she’s tailing gives her a fight, she almost relishes in it. She goes through the routine of handing the perp over to the police and filling out the regular paperwork before heading home, riding on the high of adrenaline. Emma feels good for the first time since Killian met Milah (not that she’d ever admit that was when she developed a strange pit in her stomach), but that feeling dissolves immediately when she unlocks her apartment door and sees Killian sitting on her couch.

On one hand, it’s a relief. It’s good to see him and if she’s being honest with herself, she just wants to spend quality time with her best friend. On the other hand, the sight of her mildly disheveled looking partner in crime makes her dangerously aware of her growing anxiety.

“Hey, what’s up?” Emma asks, making a pit stop in her room to change out of what Killian likes to call her agent uniform. “You haven’t done a surprise drop by in forever.”

She can hear Killian’s sigh from down the hall and the distinct sound of a bottle (probably beer, probably from her fridge) being set down on her coffee table. “I don’t know, love. Things are rather a mess with Milah at the moment.”

“Mess how?” Emma surprises herself at how much work she has to put into sounding only mildly interested and is beyond grateful that Killian can’t see how red her face is. She joins him in the living room, noting how his eyes flick to the shirt she’s wearing (it’s Walsh’s, not his, for once) before going back to the beer in his hand. She settles onto the couch next to him, angling her body to face him.

“It appears as though she hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with me about her past.” Killian takes a deep breath and adds, “Or her present, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently, when we met at the pub, she was already in a very committed relationship with another man.”

Emma blinks once, twice.

“What? So she was, what, using you to cheat?” Emma sputters, because while Killian has definitely broken more than a few hearts in his day, he had honor, and would never intentionally break up a relationship. The thought alone was probably killing him, and she can’t help but feel indignant on his behalf.

Killian runs a hand over his face and God, she’s never seen him look so tired.

“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“That’s an understatement.” She winces at the sarcasm in her voice and squeezes Killian’s hand in silent apology, taking their empty beer bottles to the kitchen to throw them away. She starts up the espresso maker - the real one, not her Keurig - and leans against the countertop. “Do you want to tell me more about it?”

“From what she’s told me, it’s a rather abusive relationship that she simply feels she cannot absolve. The man works for her father’s company and is very high up, and she fears that ending her relationship with him will be detrimental for her family. I never expected the relationship I started with her in a bar would wind up so…”

“Complicated?” Emma offers, throwing Killian a sympathetic smile before turning her attention back to the coffee.

“That seems to be the word of the evening,” Killian scoffs, and his chuckle reminds her of when he used to tell her about all the kids that made fun of him for being so good in school, trying to maintain a good sense of humor about the situation but not quite managing. An old sense of protectiveness rises up in her, because while Killian has always been able to put up a good front, she has always been able to see right through him.

“Do you think you guys are going to work things out?” Emma asks, setting a cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of Killian.

“I’m not sure yet. I thought - I don’t know what I thought.” Killian pauses and glances down at her attempt at latte art, his head tilting to the side. “Swan, what in the devil is that blob in my coffee?”

Emma can’t help but roll her eyes. “I was trying to make a duck. I obviously did not succeed.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey, I tried, okay?”

The corner of Killian’s mouth quirks up and it’s the first genuine smile Emma’s seen from him all night. She bumps her shoulder against his, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

“What are you going to do?”

“I wish I knew, love. I wish I knew.”

“Mm. I gotta tell you, Jones...I got nothing.”

Killian snorts and tilts his head until it’s against hers. “Me either, Swan. What a bloody shit show.”

“Drink the coffee I made you.”

“The one with the blob?”

“This is the last time I do something nice for you.”

“I don’t think making a subpar latte counts as doing something especially nice. But I appreciate the thought all the same.”

Emma lasts a solid five minutes before she brings Milah up again.

“Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Not particularly, darling, no.”

“Wanna get hammered?”

She feels Killian shake his head ever so slightly on top of hers and shifts a little closer to him. While she’s never been a particularly affectionate person, she knows physical comfort (of the most innocent kind) helps Killian best when he’s truly feeling down.

“I never thought we’d see the day where I was the talkative one,” Emma remarks thoughtfully.

“Trust me, Swan, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you over seven years of friendship, it’s that you never run out of things to say.”

-

The next morning, Emma decides to cook. She’s fairly pleased with herself for even coming up with the idea to turn on her stove and try to make something edible before she realizes something rather important.

She can’t remember the last time she cooked anything.

Normally, Killian is the one doing the cooking in her apartment. Occasionally Mary Margaret or David give him a break, but Emma certainly never has. She spends ten minutes trying to find a skillet, because Killian organized her kitchen to his own specific taste a couple months after she moved in and she hasn’t bothered trying to rearrange it. She’d hate to mess up his system.

Emma’s mildly surprised when Killian sleeps through the clanging of the pans and her rather loud, rather colorful swearing, but he’s emotionally exhausted and the furrow between his eyebrows remains even in sleep.

She manages to make eggs, sausage, and toast without damaging herself or her apartment too badly. She does have to bandage a couple of her fingers, including one of her thumbs, but nothing catches on fire. For Emma, that’s a victory in of itself.

“Did you cook?” Killian’s voice is rough from sleep and his hair is sticking up in every direction but there’s no mistaking the disbelief behind his question.

“Shut up and eat. I have to get ready for work.” Emma says the last part reluctantly, and she really can’t picture leaving her best friend in this state.

“Of course. Life goes on, after all.” He busies himself with poking at the plate she’s made up for him and her heart breaks a little (not that she’d ever tell him that).

“How’s the internship hunt going?” Emma asks instead. If there’s one thing Killian Jones hates, it’s pity directed towards him.

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. It’s a rather competitive field after all.”

“Are you going to make more calls today?”

“Don’t worry, Swan. I won’t wallow around the flat all day,” Killian reassures her teasingly.

Emma’s eyes search his for a moment before she allows herself to smile and tease him back. “Good.”

Killian is a survivor, and she knows without a doubt that he will find a way to do the right thing by everyone involved. She also knows that she will be around to help him pick up the pieces afterwards.

Emma disappears into her room for a few minutes to change and when she comes out, Killian has a tumbler of iced coffee ready for her.

“Have I told you that you’re the best?”

“Yes, but it never hurts to reaffirm a well known fact,” Killian quips.

“Be good today.” Don’t get drunk and do something you’ll regret later.

“I’ll try my very best.” Stop worrying.

“I expect nothing less,” Emma replies, already halfway to the door. Killian follows her out into the hallway and waits while she locks up her apartment before she turns to face him. She tilts her head to the side and he mimics her, eyebrows raising and smile mocking. Emma returns it with a smirk of her own and hugs him tight, and if she notices that Killian is a little reluctant to let go, she doesn’t say anything.

-

“You would not believe the day I’ve had. First, we get the wrong shipments and ours get delivered all the way across town, then my dad decides to drop in and see how the business is going, and - Emma, sweetheart, have you heard a word I’ve said?’

“What?” Emma blinks and refocuses on Walsh. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with me today.”

“You’ve been distracted for the past few days. Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah. Work’s just kind of been hell lately. You know Leroy, always being a pain in my ass,” Emma says and hopes that Walsh can’t tell just how forced her laugh is.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“Yeah.” She’s not.

“Do you want to tell me what’s been going on? Come on, you can talk to me about anything.”

Walsh reaches across the table to take her hand and he looks so damn sincere and she just feels so bad because how can she tell her boyfriend that she’s not paying attention to him because she’s worried about another guy?

“I’m sorry. I’m here, one hundred percent. What were you saying about your dad?”

“Never mind that. I actually want to talk to you about something else.” She’s witnessed Walsh fearlessly haggle with ridiculously persistent old ladies hell-bent on saving every cent they can but this is only the second time she’s ever seen him nervous.

“I’m all ears,” Emma says, leaning forward to rest her elbow on the table and prop her head up with her hand.

“Well, not talk to you about something, really. More like tell you something. Something kind of important.”

“Walsh, babe, you’re babbling.” Most days, Emma finds quirks like this adorable, at least coming from Walsh. Today is not one of those days.

Walsh takes a deep breath. “Emma, I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Right, um, sorry.” She’s not used to feeling chastised, but she knows she doesn’t like it, especially when her boyfriend is the one doing the chastising. Emma’s in the middle of figuring out just how annoyed she’s entitled to be and she’s pretty sure it’s a lot when Walsh breaks through her internal reverie.

“Emma, I love you.”

Oh.

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #ouat #ouat ff #my writing #you can hear it in the silence #*writing