#she would not get a second away from him I’m sure

[lives-in-midgard]

A Little Different

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When Bucky shows your daugther his new look you get an interesting and cute reaction from her.

Word Count: 940

Request: Can I please request a (Everyone lives au!) husband!Bucky x fem!wife!civilian reader where they have a a daughter who’s a little under a year old? [See full request here]

A/N: Thank you for sending me this request! I loved this idea so much and have a few more ideas for this family and maybe we will read more about them!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

It’s been a few years since you and Bucky met each other. Everything started like a normal day for both of you until you were on your way home from your favorite bookstore and a man followed you and then started attacking you. Luckily, Bucky was right around the corner and came to save you. You weren’t hurt too badly, but Bucky was so worried and made it his mission to make sure that you were okay. He took care of you and looked after you for the next few days. You enjoyed having Bucky around and he really enjoyed your company too. A few weeks passed when he finally got the courage to ask you out.

You went on many dates and had so much fun together. You loved each other so much that one day Bucky decided to ask you to marry him. The way he asked you was so beautiful and perfect. The place and the words Bucky chose were so special.

The wedding was so beautiful. Your friends and family came, even the Avengers came and were now good friends of yours.

A few months passed when you told Bucky that you were pregnant. He was so happy and you were both so happy to start a family together.

So, that’s where you and Bucky were now. Living in a house with your own family. Bucky, you and your daughter Luna.

You just came back from bringing your daughter to the kindergarten when Bucky came home from his mission. And wow he looked so different…suddenly he had short hair and no beard. You stood there in silence for a second, admiring him, and Bucky started to chuckle.

“Is my gorgeous wife shocked by my new look?” You blushed and walked closer to Bucky.

“A bit, yes, but it looks so good on you Buck.” You said, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Thank you, doll.” He said and then kissed you passionately. When you pulled away, you hugged each other tightly.

“I’m so happy to be home with you and I can’t wait to see Luna.” Bucky said with a smile while holding your hand.

“Oh, Luna is going to be so happy…every day she asked when you’re coming home and walked around with a picture of us.” You giggled and Bucky’s smile widened.

“But now you have to tell me when you decided to get this new look?” Bucky chuckled and then told you why he got the new look and that it had to do something with his mission, but he really liked it and so did you. The big question is what will your daughter say about Bucky’s new look?

After a lot of talking, cuddling and kissing with Bucky, it was time to pick up Luna. You and Bucky decided that you would pick her up and he waits at home to surprise her.

As you and Luna went out of the car and walked to the house, Bucky was waiting outside the house.

“Oh, look who is here, sweetheart.” You said, looking at Luna who just looked at Bucky without saying anything. You and Bucky started to chuckle because it looked like she didn’t recognize him. Bucky walked closer to Luna and knelt down when Luna suddenly shook her head and walked behind you, looking at Bucky sadly.

“Princess, it’s me, daddy.” Bucky said in a soft voice.

“NO” she said, looking up at you and started to sniffle.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s daddy.” You said again and she looked at Bucky confused.

“I have an idea.” Bucky said, taking off his jacket, so his daughter could see his metal arm better.

“Look, princess.” He reached for his daughter, who now began to smile.

“Daddy” Luna ran into Bucky’s arms, and he started laughing as his daughter held him tight.

“Missed you.” She mumbled, looking up at him and making grabby hands. Bucky smiled, picked her up and held her in his arms. Luna started giggling, and then touched where Bucky’s beard was before he shaved it and giggled. You and Bucky chuckled at your daughter’s cuteness.

“Daddy, different.” She mumbled.

“Yes sweetie, you’re right, daddy looks different, but he’s still the same.”

“The same.” Luna mumbled and hugged Bucky. You and Bucky smiled at each other and then he softly kissed Luna’s forehead. Then your and Bucky’s daughter looked up and laughed.

“Love you daddy, love you mommy.” She looked at Bucky and then to you before laying her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We love you too, snugglebug.” You said, placed a kiss on her cheek and then on the cheek of your husband.

“I love you” You told Bucky.

“And I love you, doll.” Bucky said with a smile.

“How about we go inside and cuddle.” Bucky asked when he noticed how sleepy his little princess got.

“That’s a good idea, right honey?” You looked at her and softly stroke her hair with your hand.

“Cuddle” She said in a sleepy voice. You followed Bucky inside the house and into your bedroom. Bucky gently placed Luna in the middle of the bed and laid next to her and you on the other side, so she was in the middle. After you placed the blanket over you and Luna, she hugged Bucky tighter. You smiled and then gently hugged her from behind.

After a while Luna fell asleep and so did you. You and Bucky love your family so much. Bucky is so happy and still can’t believe that he is finally living a happy life, especially after everything he has been through. Finally, he has everything he ever dreamt of.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #sebastian stan

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 blurb #oscar piastri blurb #blurb #writing #fluff #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 10

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The next day, you awake, feeling less foggy but no less tired. Your mother is still in her recliner as you emerge. You put on the coffee as you always do and sit at the table, holding your head as you wait for the grind to finish.

You pour two mugs and go to the living room. You put one down next to your mom and gently nudge her shoulder. Her eyes snap open and her head wobbles before she can lift it. Her hand is trembling as she wipes her eyes and the recliner snaps upright with her movement. She doesn’t say a word as she grabs the cup and drinks.

You both drink in silence, as if you’re both just as confused by the previous day’s passing. The remnants of the heavy slip have you yawning over the brim and eager to brew a second pot. As you refill the filter, the doorbell rings. You mom grumbles noisily.

You hit the start button on the machine and hurry down the hall. As you open the door to Steve, a flash of yesterday washes over you. The memory of him in your room, looking at your sketchbook, intruding...

You shake off the chagrin and clear your sandy throat.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “not to rush you or anything but just checking in. Seeing when you were planning to pop over.”

You blink. What does he mean? It takes you a moment to remember. Oh, you remember you agreed to help him with the pool. Well, your mother told him you would.

“Is that Steve?” Your mom calls as the recliner creaks. You step aside as she approaches, “ah, hello. Just can’t get enough, huh?”

“Mm, yeah, Holly, remember, we talked about this. The pool?” He smiles and tucks his hands in his pockets.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” she chuckles as she glances over at you, “she needs something to keep her busy. How about I come over, keep an eye on her for you.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Steve says, “you look tired and you’ve been doing so much these last few days. I wouldn’t want to make anything worse.”

“Oh, this,” she holds up her shaky hand, “all good, honey. Really. I can handle it. Just a part of life. Besides, I need to get some sun, eh?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees as his cheeks tighten, “that’s fine. Well, whenever you’re ready. I’m just getting started now.”

“We’ll be over shortly,” your mother affirms and pets her neck.

Steve nods and turns, striding away without another word. You look at your mom. You really don’t want to go. Still, you can’t say no. She’d never let you live it down. You need the money.

“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter. “Do you want some toast before we go over?”

“I can take care of myself,” she snips and swings the door shut. “I want you on your best behaviour, got it? You’re not going to ruin this for me. Whatever he tells you to do, do it. No faces, just listen.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And...” she leans in your door as you open your dresser, “if me and him happen to wander off, don’t come looking.”

You nod. She huffs and her footsteps carry on into the kitchen. You cross the room and close the door. You turn and peel off your tee shirt. You freeze as you notice the open curtains. You squint as you see a shadow in the window across from yours.

You hold the tee shirt to your chest and rush forward. Nothing. Just the window. You close yours and back up. You’ll wear some leggings you can get dirty and the Gap shirt with the hole near the hem. You’ll just be scrubbing algae or whatever.

🏠

You follow your mom up to Steve’s front door. She knocks and waits, hemming and hawing as she checks her watch. You twiddle your fingers, longing for any excuse to go home.

“Hey,” Steve appears around the side of the house, “just around through the gate.”

“Oh, silly me,” your mother as good as elbows past you as she redirects course.

You trail after her as Steve holds open the gate door, standing just inside it. You brush against him as you enter, unable to avoid it. He shuts it so the clasp clicks and you feel him behind you.

“Figure we’ll start by just sweeping up and getting everything away from the pool,” he explains, then we might have to get down and dirty.” He chuckles and you glance over your shoulder at him. He points to the in-ground pools, “gotta clean inside.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” your mom remarks, “mmph, I’m just gonna sit.” She grips her hip as she clings to the railing and climbs up onto the deck. She sits at the patio table, under the broad umbrella.

“Right,” Steve claps his hands, “I’ll get you a broom. You start over there, I’ll take the other side and we’ll meet in the middle. How about that?”

“Okay,” you shrug.

He smiles and turns, striding over to the shed and dipping inside. He’s almost too tall for the small doorway. Your mother clears her throat and you look at her, a sharp expression tensing her features. She doesn’t need to speak her thoughts; it’s a warning.

Steve hands you a broom and a pan. You take it and go to the opposite end of the pool. You keep your head down as you start sweeping, gathering the debris into a single pile. You can hear Steve’s bristles scraping closer and closer as you make your way around the perimeter.

“Oh, Steve, honey,” your mom calls out, “could I trouble you for something to drink?”

He stops, only a few feet from you. Sweat dampens the collar of his tee and across his chest. Your own shirt is clinging to your skin as the sun beat down.

“Heh, yeah, it’s pretty hot. How about some lemonade?” He suggests, “hey, sweetie, you want a glass?”

“Um, okay, thanks,” you answer as you put your focus back to the work at hand.

He carries his broom with him and sets it against the railing of the steps. He climbs them and goes through the sliding glass doors. You continue around, adding your dirt pile to his. Your mom wipes her brow as she basks in the shade, fanning herself dramatically.

Steve comes back out with a tray. A pitcher and three glasses sit on it. He pours each as you stand by the debris.

“Come on, have some, should cool off a bit, stay hydrated,” he waves you over.

“Uh,” you look down at the pile.

“I’ll take care of that, you take a break.”

You circle the pool and climb up the steps. You mother struggles to steady her glass as you take your own. As you sip, Steve heads back down and gathers up the debris into a compost bag. He sets that aside and dusts his hands off.

“When you’re ready, I’ll help you down,” he offers as he lowers himself down the ladder.

You nod and gulp down half the glass, setting it down heavily. You mother squints at you, “don’t be lazy.”

You turn away without retort. All you’ve done is what Steve asked.

You go to the ladder and look down into the empty pool. You turn and grab the sides of the ladder, taking it step by step. The clearance is a bit too high for you. Steve approaches you as you hover above the drop.

“Here,” he grabs your hips, “I got you.”

You squeak as he squeezes and you cling to the ladder until you have to let go. He lifts you easily and sets you down, his hands brushing up your sides as he releases you. You quickly part from him, feeling the warmth of his body clouding around you.

“Right, so we just need to scours the sides a bit,” he bends and grabs the end of the hose dangling over the edge. “Got it on the highest setting so if you just want to go around and get the walls. I’m gonna work at scraping off the gross stuff.”

“Kay,” you take the hose from him.

“No cheap shots, okay,” he grins, “well, I don’t think I’d complain for a bit of water.”

You frown at him, not sure what he means. He looks pointed at the hose as you point the nozzle right at him. You drop it and apologise.

“Not worries. Just pull the lever,” he instructs. “And let me know if you need anything. It’s a good day for heat stroke.”

You turn and aim the hose. You spray the wall and much of the grime washes away easily. You get closer, a bit of splash back speckling your arms. You focus on getting every inch, moving diligently along the tile. It’s a big pool. He’ll have a great summer once it’s full.

You feel a grimness in your chest. It feels like all the nice things are meant for everyone else. You shrug it away and keep at it. At least, you’ll get a couple of bucks out of doing the grunt work. It’s no summertime oasis, but it’s better than nothing.

#the girl next door #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america

[the-traveling-poet]

what abt Levi with his wife and them just adore their newborn son?? Like maybe it’s been two weeks after the child was born and it’s Levi’s day off and he’s just with both of them 😘🙏

══════════════════════

Ofc lovely! Pls we need more dadvi! content and I had so much fun writing this~

I felt like this was fit to be a cute little drabble, but kinda got carried away with it lol. I apologize for the time it took to get it out!

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe @pelicanpizza @humanitys-strongest-brat @raginginferno267

══════════════════════

She’s fine…She’s been through hell and back, I know she can handle this. She’s fine.

Levi shook the thought from his mind with a tired sigh as he returned to the bedroom he shared with his wife with two cups of steaming tea in his rough hands.

He’d been reluctant to leave her side the last nine months as it was, but even just a second spent away from her presence these past two weeks, even just to make tea, was too much now.

Nudging open the bedroom door with his foot, he peaked in to check on her.

His wife was sat just where’d he’d left her; in the center of the bed propped up on pillows leaned against the headboard, cradling their newborn child to her chest as he slept soundly. She looked tired; exhausted, more like.

How two weeks had passed since their beautiful child’s birth, Levi wasn’t sure. They’d waited nine long months for this moment, and now it was going by seemingly so quickly….It was something so bittersweet to the both of the new parents.

Y/N lifted her tired eyes up to meet Levi’s, a loving smile perched on her lips as she accepted the offered cup of tea with her free hand and motioned for him to sit by her.

Without so much as a single though Levi sat, scooting closer to her hip with his eyes trained on the top of his son’s head.

“Little brat finally fell asleep, huh?” He murmured, gently brushing his fingers along the newborn’s fuzzy dark hair as the boy slept soundly against his mother’s chest. Y/N hummed, loosing an exasperated sigh.

“It’s five in the evening, love. He’s gonna be up all night again now,” She murmured back as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Mmh…I’ll stay up with him.”

Levi set aside his tea and reached out slowly to scoop the boy into his own arms, letting Y/N slump against him fully with a tired groan and snuggle into his side.

“Go figure; both my boys are insomniacs. Did he get anything from me? I mean, he’s got your eyes and hair already.” She chuckled, looking up to see an amused smirk adorning Levi’s face as he stared down at this child lovingly.

“He got your attitude, I think. He slapped at my hand this morning after a diaper change.” He mused, which earned him a light slap to the shoulder from his loving wife.

“Only proving my point, darling.” He murmured. “Though, he did turn out adorable; just like you. You’re both so precious.” He continued on in a near whisper of awe.

Y/N hummed softly, seeming contented with this addition. “Well, if you’ve got him…I’m exhausted,” Y/N suddenly yawned, stretching out a little to curl against Levi’s side.

With one arm cradling their newborn, and his other hand now brushing through her hair, Levi leaned down to place a soft kiss on both of their cheeks.

“Get some rest darling…you’ve more than earned it,” he whispered against her hair, feeling the tension slowly leaving her body with a sleepy sigh.

She fell asleep quickly; not to his surprise. He watched her a moment, adoring in wonder for the nth time now just how someone like her had found it in her to not only love someone like him, but to also bring forth a new life for their little family. He knew in that moment that he would never overcome his gratitude for her…

Gradually, their son began to wake up in a quiet fuss in his arms, and his attention was stolen away from his sleeping wife back to his cranky son.

“Oh? Chose to wake up again, huh?” He cooed softly, bringing him to rest further up onto his chest. Now on his belly, the infant boy seemed to quiet down.

“See? Your okay; daddy’s got you,” Levi murmured with a soft smile, cradling his arms securely around his boy and leaning back on the bed to hold onto his wife more securely as his own eyes began to flutter shut.

Up until this moment, he couldn’t recall a time he felt so at peace with his life. His lover on his right, his child on his chest, the light steam that rose from his mostly untouched teacup on the nightstand twirling through the still air…

This was happiness.

#lynn’s requests #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #snk fanfiction #aot #snk #aot fluff #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #levi ackerman #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi x reader #dad!vi #father! levi #father levi ackerman #father levi #fluff #levi fluff #husband!levi

[sainzzsturns]

Injured

j. bellingham x fem!volleyplayer!reader

warnings: injury

category: angst w comforting fluff

summary: reader gets hurt during one of her volley games

You played one of the most difficult positions ever, the libero.

That meant you had to give your absolute best 100% of the time, if you did anything wrong your team would immediately lose a possible point.

So obviously in game days you would be shaking with anxiety constantly, although your boyfriend, Jude, would be there to confort you.

“I get you completely, but don’t worry, you always do well, I’m sure this time won’t be any different.”

You walked in the stadium through the back to get in the locker room, you put on your uniform and knee pads and sleeves.

You hit the tip of your shoes getting comfortable in them as you stepped out onto the court starting to warm up with your teammates.

You locked eyes with Jude for a second, him giving you a reassuring smile with a thumbs up. Your two mutual friends, Vini Jr and Eduardo Camavinga there to support you as well.

The ref blew the whistle and your team started serving.

The game was going well till now, your team being ahead by 14x10 for the first set.

Suddenly a strong attack ball game from the opposite team, your teammate received it, but the impact made the ball go far from the court.

Instantly you ran after it tripping over some tables and chair which were laying in the corner of the court.

You managed to hit the ball sending it back to your team, although, when you got back up again, you closed your eyes and screamed in pain as you sat back down.

You looked at your ankle as it instantly started become red and eventually purple, it was also already a bit bigger than your other ankle.

Even though you had protection on, both your knees had also become colored and you noticed some scratches on your arm.

The referee blew her whistle when she noticed your position.

The medical team was called over and picked you up, setting you down on your team’s bench.

Three attentive boys came down from their seats to reach you.

Jude immediately grabbed your hand and rubbed your shoulders, watching closely as the medic examined your ankle.

“I’m so sorry baby, it’s going to be alright, I’m right here, just hold my hand.” He said, giving you support.

Vini combed some of your hair out of your face, wiping fallen tears every now and then.

Eventually the medic had concluded you had a dislocated ankle and a couple scratches, nothing serious, both injuries would heal soon with the correct care. He wrapped a boot around your foot as well.

Obviously you had to be benched, but even so your team managed to win.

Throughout the rest of the game you sat with your boyfriend, hugged on his side, sniffling from time to time from your past tears.

When it was time to leave your were still in a bad mood, of course you were happy with your team’s win but it still hurt not being able to play for a while, and need others’s support.

Jude handed you your crutches as you all made your way towards the exit.

Arriving home, Jude gave you a nice relaxing shower, after that, laying you down on your bed as he hugged you close, wanting to protect you from all harm.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, if I could take all your pain away I would in a heartbeat. Well, actually, maybe not this weekend because I have a game!” He said, earning a couple giggles from you.

“That’s alright, thanks for taking care of me.” You answered.

“It’s my job! And I’ll be your care taker for a long while, so get used to it.” He added.

Tiredness took over your body as your eyelids grew heavier.

“Good night, Judey” You murmured.

“Good night, love” He answered.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #vinicius jr #eduardo camavinga #football #volleyball #real madrid

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Chicken

John Egan X Farmer! Reader

Summary: When Meatball kills the farmer's chicken. Bucky flies to the rescue.

Warning: Animal death/ swearing/ mention of boobs/ use of Y/n/ mention of blood.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: I'm alive y'all! And my brain functioned again!

When John Egan came to Thorpe Abbotts, he was aware of the people that already lived there. He knew they were here, but he didn’t know them personally. When he saw her riding her horse, he knew he had to introduce himself. But he didn’t have the courage to go talk to her, she looked so intimidating, riding her horse and handling the goats.

Y/n lived on her family’s farm, but her family was away, they were in Austria, the farm was their summer house, but they wanted Y/n to keep it clean and work there. Usually, she would’ve been back in Austria, but with the war, it wasn’t safe to travel. Her chores were simple, making sure the goats didn’t run away, getting the eggs from the chicken coop and keeping the stables clean. It was easy, especially since she got her horse, Fred. He was a mustang, a beast that she had trouble training, but she kept persevering and was able to ride him. She was riding Fred everywhere; she loved her horse.

‘’Cleven! Good morning’’ she greeted the blonde. They quickly became friends when he came on the base, he went to introduce himself to the people living on the base, already saying he was sorry for the future disturbance that the soldiers were going to cause. When Gale saw Y/n, he thought she was amazing and they talked for hours, quickly becoming friends. They would trade stuff together, for example, if Y/n wanted a bottle of whiskey, she would give Gale a dozen eggs. ‘’Morning Y/n! How are you?’’ he asked. ‘’Good, just counting the chickens’’ she stopped when she heard a dog barking. ‘’Why do you have a dog here?’’ she asked, stepping in front of the chickens. ‘’Brady got him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t come near the coop’’ he reassured her. ‘’He better, because if he eats any of my chickens…’’ she threatened. Meatball came running towards Buck. ‘’He’s cute, but I meant what I said’’ she looked at the dog, smiling. ‘’I’ll make sure of it’’ he smiled.

John Egan heard a horse neigh; he knew that Y/n was close. And he was right, her (Y/h/c) hair were flying in the wind, she had a cowboy hat on her head. A white tank top that made her boobs look 5 times bigger and jeans that made her legs look amazing. She was beautiful. ‘’Y/n, what’s wrong?’’ Gale asked. She got down her horse, patting him before looking at the boys. ‘’I can’t come here and say hello?’’ she smiled as she looked at Bucky. ‘’Technically, you’re on a private property’’ Murph said. She scoffed. ‘’Technically, you guys invaded our property’’ she replied. ‘’Touché’’ Murph laughed. ‘’Nice ride’’ John Egan said, looking at the horse. ‘’Thanks, that’s Fred.’’ She replied. ‘’Um, do you guys have a minute to spare? We need help moving the hay’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we can help’’ Bucky quickly replied.

‘’Be careful with that Jeep, don’t run over my animals’’ she smiled at Bucky, before she climbed up her horse. ‘’Wanna race?’’ Bucky proposed. She gave him a challenging smile, Fred was a fast horse, he was originally supposed to be a racehorse, but Y/n bought him at the town auction. ‘’Sure, but don’t cry if you lose’’ she smiled. When Fred started to run, Bucky knew he’d already lost, he didn’t want to go too fast, in case of a loose animal. She looked like a goddess, riding that horse. He thought about her riding him for a second, but his thoughts quickly faded when he heard Meatball bark, his mouth was all bloody and he had feathers on him.

‘’Calm down! It’s only 3 chickens!’’ Gale Cleven tried to calm her down, but she was ready to skin the dog alive, Bucky was holding her so she wouldn’t kill the dog. ‘’IT’S LESS EGGS! LET ME GO! I’m going to kill that dog’’ she tried to get away, but Bucky’s grip was too hard on her waist. Meatball didn’t have any regret; he was looking around like his life wasn’t on the line. John Brady, the owner, arrived at the scene in a Jeep, with Harry Crosby and Rosie Rosenthal. The 3 bodies were lying on the ground, headless. Y/n took deep breaths and calmed down a little. ‘’What’s going on?’’ Brady asked. ‘’You’re the owner?’’ she asked, angrily. Brady nodded. ‘’Your stupid dog ate 3 of my chickens!’’ she spat, showing the corpse with her hand. Brady swallowed a nervous laugh. ‘’I told you to watch him and I’m leaving the farm for an hour, I come back, and Dave, Danny and Darrel are dead!’’ she said, looking at her chickens. Bucky had to refrain a laugh at the names of the deceased animals. ‘’I’m sorry miss, I don’t know what else to say’’ Brady explained, scratching the back of his head. She took a deep breath, realizing how crazy she looked. She touched Bucky’s hand, to show him that he could let go. She replaced her hair as she sighed. ‘’I’m sorry, I kinda overreacted. You guys can go, I’ll, uh, clean up. Sorry for the disturbance.’’ She said, with an embarrassed tone.

He felt bad for her, sure it was only 3 chickens, but still. So, that night, he decided to find the courage and go talk to her for more than four words. He rode his Jeep to her house; he nervously taped the wheel with his thumb as he shut the engine down. Seeing lights outside, Y/n got out of the house, standing on her porch, seeing it was a soldier, she wiped her hands on her pants before going down the short stairs. ‘’Major Egan, to what do I owe this visit?’’ she asked, trying to hide her joy. She found him attractive, he was a gentleman during the day and a manwhore during the night, or at least that was his reputation. ‘’Hello, please call me Bucky, and I’m here to pay you back’’ he smiled. She tilted her head. ‘’Pay me back? You owe me money?’’ she questioned. He shook his head, chuckling. ‘’No, it’s for the deceased chickens’’ he explained.

Y/n fought the urge to smirk. ‘’You want to pay me for the chickens I lost?’’ she asked. ‘’Yeah, I mean you said it yourself, it’s less eggs’’ he blurted out. Now she couldn’t fight it anymore, a smile creeped on her face as she looked at the flustered Bucky. ‘’Come inside’’ she invited. He nodded as they waled inside the small home. The smell of burnt candle filling his nose as he looked around the kitchen. ‘’Does Brady know you’re doing this?’’ she asked as they sat in the kitchen. ‘’No, it’s my idea’’ he looked on the ground, not daring to look at her in the eyes. ‘’That’s very sweet, Bucky, but I can’t accept this, you must have family that this money belongs too, what about Mrs. Egan. It’s very thoughtful but keep it’’ she politely said. He started to laugh at the mention of a Mrs. Egan. ‘’There’s no Mrs. Egan, never set that part right, and my family doesn’t need the money. Please, Y/n, take it’’ this time, their eyes were locked into each other.

‘’You know, I didn’t think you would be the one offering me money. I thought Cleven would do it’’ she said, taking a sip of her homemade alcohol. It’s been an hour since Bucky came into her home they’ve been talking ever since. ‘’He felt bad, but he has to keep it for the phones, his girlfriend wants to hear from him twice a week’’ he chucked. She smiled as she looked at him. ‘’It’s getting late, I should get back to the base’’ he said as he looked at his watch. She got an idea. ‘’Are you free for dinner tomorrow?’’ she blurted out. He looked at her, smiling. ‘’Uh, yes, why?’’ he asked. ‘’Because I enjoy your company. And I have some extra money to buy good meat.’’ She smiled. ‘’Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’’ He leaned to kiss the top of her hand. ‘’Good night, Y/n’’ he said. ‘’Good night, Bucky, see you tomorrow’’

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet Canis Major

Voldemort remembers the other Sirius. Also, a little glimpse at Orion/Walburga, because I never tire of this toxic couple.

(-)

Usually, it was Arcturus or Pollux that showed up when their children got in trouble. Cygnus, especially, was often in trouble, so Pollux’ face was the most familiar to the students.

In Voldemort’s sixth year at Hogwarts, Atticus Bulstrode, the Head Boy, invited Walburga to Hogsmeade, the last in a lengthy string of boys asking her out. Only this time, she accepted.

When he heard, Orion challenged him to a formal duel. Atticus laughed, rolled his eyes at his fourteen years old opponent.

“Quick!” He was shaken awake by Abraxas, in the middle of the night.“Orion is killing Bulstrode in the trophy room! You have to stop him!”

He reached them just in time, he disarmed Orion, and rushed Bulstrode to the Hospital Wing, where they found Dumbledore asking the Matron for a sleeping potion.

Atticus was lucky- Dumbledore was more often than not away from Hogwarts, chasing Grindelwald, rumour went, but he was there that night, apparently suffering with insomnia.

The professor kept Atticus alive until the Healers from St Mungo arrived and took the boy with them.

“It wasn’t me,” he said, hurriedly, stained in Bulstrode’s blood, lingering in the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore peered at him from under his half-moon glasses. Dumbledore always liked to blame everything on him. “I only brought him here after-”

“I know,” Dumbledore assured him.

The next morning Atticus’ father came thundering, his yells easily heard from where Voldemort was spying, near the Headmaster office.

He wondered if maybe this will be the time when a Black actually suffers consequences. After all, Bulstrode’s name was ancient, they were a rich, influential family, and surely, at least on account of that, Dippet would do something more than detention and points taken, which was the usual punishment for Blacks.

Only, this time it wasn't Arcturus that came to fix his son's issues.

It was the infamous Sirius Black. A tall man, with wide shoulders, long black hair hanging around his face, deep circle under his too intense eyes, mouth twisted in a snarl. Orion walked behind him, his gaze fixed on his older relative. Voldemort watched them, hidden by a pillar. Orion never seemed small; he carried himself with such arrogance and pride, his head held so high he seemed a foot taller than he was. Yet right then, Orion looked small, trailing after his grandfather, quietly, as Voldemort observed them disappear up the stairwell leading to the Headmaster's chambers.

They left Dippet’s office not even a quarter of an hour after they entered it.

As soon as they emerged from it, the gargoyles closing the door behind them, old Black slapped Orion, the noise echoing down the hallway.

“Next time you pull something like this, do it on a weekday, you fool! If I’m woken up again at this ungodly hour on your account on a Sunday, you will be very sorry for it.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Orion answers, in that unfazed tone of his.

The old man narrows his eyes. “What was it about, anyway? How did he provoke your ire?”

A second worth of silence. “He tried stealing from me.”

Orion gets hit again, harder this time. The heavy family ring rips the skin at the corner of his left eye, and that pure blood of theirs makes an appearance.

“Then why does he still have hands?” the old man hisses, enraged. “If someone attempts to take what is yours, you cut off their hands, boy!”

He slaps Orion again, just as harshly.

“Yes, Grandfather.” Orion doesn't take his eyes off his grandfather, doesn't wipe away the blood running down his cheek, his hands held behind his back.

Sirius Blacks huffs in displeasure, before turning on his heels and marching down the hallway. “Weakling,” he mutters.

Nothing happened to Orion. Not even the usual detention. No points taken.

Sirius Black insisted it was a formal duel, that the challenge had been accepted, and it was all done honourably, Slughorn told Voldemort, when he called him into his office to give him the Head Boy badge, temporarily, until Atticus recovered and would be able to return to Hogwarts and his duties.

“When Armando reminded him duels are illegal at Hogwarts, formal or not, Mr Black said rules are just words on parchment; that he’s a wizard, and he follows laws of magic, not of men.” Slughorn sighs, rubs at his temples, and then he takes a caramel out of his newest bribe-sweets bag that Abraxas gave him. “He told Mr Bulstrode that if he wants justice, then he should challenge him to a duel, and solve it like wizards ought to. Of course, Mr Bulstrode has more than one brain cell, so he refused and let it go.” He sighs again, points a sugar coated finger at Tom. “This is why I always told you not to seek trouble with Blacks. We’re lucky he’s apparently taken to drinking lately, locked up in his Manor, that he lets Arcturus handle most of their affairs, who is much milder and reasonable. But, once in a while, he gets out and you do not wish to run afoul of him.”

No one in the common room talked of it; only Walburga complained she was looking forward to going to the newly opened teashop in Hogsmeade, and demanded to know what was Orion’s problem with Atticus.

“A Quidditch thing,” Orion told her, with a shrug. “Don’t worry, Waly. I’ll take you to Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“I don’t want to go with my baby cousin, don’t be ridiculous! Malfoy, you will take me!”

Abraxas backs away, slowly. “I can’t, Walburga. I’m busy, I have to study,” he says, hastily, when Orion glares at him from behind Walburga.

It was the only time mild-tempered, well behaved Orion did something so outrageous that his unhinged grandfather had to come and solve it, so it was the only time Voldemort saw the man.

#my writing #it runs in the blood #canis major #black family insanity #Orion would commit murder for the chance to take Walburga on a date #wizarding world corruption #Blacks should stop naming boys Sirius because they all turn out insane

[seramilla]

carmilla introducing vaggie to her girls. misscarriage

Carmilla: girls, theres someone i want you to meet

Clara: moma, we already know vaggie

Carmilla: si, but im introducing her as your sister

clara passed money over to odette: told you itd take less than a year for her to adopt her

carmilla: not quite adoption, remember when we died i was pregnant?

Odette and Clara return to the compound later that evening, filthy and covered in grime from a full day of excavating angelic weapons. They can't believe the sheer number left behind this time. Thanks to Charlie and the others at the hotel, there were more angelic bodies than Sinners; carrying not only weapons, but covered in armor. The sisters are tired but excited to get back to work the next day, to dig into the secrets their discoveries may uncover, and see what they can create from them.

After cleaning up, they notice the building is surprisingly quiet. Carmilla said she had work to do, and would wait up for them. The dark expanse of the warehouse is eerie, and their footsteps echo as they make their way to Carmilla's makeshift apartment on the second floor. They can see from the lights in the doorway that she's still awake; or at least still there, so they can tell her what they'd found. Upon opening the door, however, the two quickly realize their mother isn't alone. It's that girl...Charlie's partner. Vaggie. Sitting at their mother's side, Carmilla's hand on her knee, talking like they've known each other for years.

Carmilla is...smiling. And so is Vaggie. Odette and Clara stop in the doorway, staring at the two, puzzled, until they are noticed. Carmilla and Vaggie immediately stop talking when they see their visitors; Vaggie even shifts away a little, embarrassed. Carmilla stands abruptly, rubbing the back of her head with her claws awkwardly, but ultimately gesturing toward her daughters to come in.

"Girls," Carmilla says, a little catch in her voice. "Welcome back. You've met Vaggie, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Clara says, as she and Odette enter and shut the door behind them. "We met when we delivered that custom order to the snake man at the hotel. How's the weapon working, by the way?"

"Umm..." Vaggie flinches a little when Clara brings up Sir Pentious. She has such a look of profound sadness on her face at the mention of him, like she wants to cry. There's such a drastic change in the angel's demeanor, Odette awkwardly clears her throat and tries to change the subject.

"You're that angel that's dating Charlie, right? How are you feeling? Are you recovering okay? You had such a nasty scrape with the Exterminators."

"Oh! Yes," Vaggie says, seemingly surprised Odette would ask how she’s doing. “I’m doing a lot better, thank you. Charlie’s been taking care of me. And, uh...Carm--your mom, too.”

Vaggie’s voice is so much smaller and softer than either Odette or Clara remember. She’d been so full of energy and authority at the hotel; directing all the residents and keeping them out of trouble. It’s surprising this is the same woman in front of them now, acting all meek and mild in front of their mother. Hadn't she challenged her just several days prior? What happened since then?

"You've sure been spending a lot of time with Mama lately," Clara says, putting voice to the obvious. It's not so much an accusation, as an observation. There's no suspicion or malice in Clara's voice, just a lilt of a...question? Odette's thinking the same thing, if she's honest. Carmilla's been spending a lot of time with the angel. She doesn't mind, but...she also can't escape the feeling that something else is going on. Something she's not being told.

"Did you adopt her or something, Mom?" Odette asks, chuckling, trying to lower the tension building in the room. "She's strong. We could always use an extra hand around here."

The silence that permeates the space at her comment shocks Odette to her very core. Suddenly, both Vaggie's and her mother's eyes spike open, like Odette just mentioned someone had died. The change in their demeanor is palpable. Vaggie turns away, as if she's unable to look at the sisters anymore. Carmilla stutters again, trying to find her voice. She's been doing that a lot lately, where Vaggie is concerned. Carmilla can't seem to find the words to explain, and Odette and Clara don't know the right questions to get answers out of her.

"What? What did I say?" Odette looks at her mother, concerned. Carmilla looks like she's about to cry.

"It's not like that, mija," Carmilla says, unconvincingly. Oh shit, Odette notices, she is crying. "Umm, girls...come sit with me for a minute. Please? I need to tell you something."

They do. Vaggie moves out of the way so Odette and Clara can sit on the futon next to their mother. Carmilla reaches for the angel, too, trying to draw her in, but Vaggie just turns away, her back to the rest of them. She looks so small again, like she's curling in on herself. Carmilla looks like she wants to say something, but thinks better of it, and draws her attention back to the other girls.

"Clara. Odette. I'm going to say something, and I need you to...to keep an open mind. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Mom," Odette says, getting concerned at this line of questioning. "What's wrong? You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"Yeah! Whatever it is, we can take it. We're worried about you." Clara chimes in. As if her mother would ever doubt their resolve. Carmilla should know them better than that by now.

Carmilla pauses, for an unusually long time. Odette sees her trying to find the right words to say. Carmilla's hand then lowers, and she's...she's rubbing her midsection, over her pubic bone. Over her belly, like when she was...

Carmilla sighs, choking up again, but decides to just go for it anyway.

"All those years ago, when...when we died? Do you remember that I was...that I was with, aahhh...what state I was in?"

"You were pregnant, Mom," Odette says, squeezing her mother's hand, choking up at the memory. Carmilla had just found out, not even a few weeks prior. They hadn't even had time to celebrate. Her baby shower had been months away, and then their lives had been taken from them, snatched away like a thief in the night. "Of course we remember. You can say it. How could we forget?"

"Do you remember when we finally woke up, and how long it took for me to remember how we were killed? Clara, do you remember what you asked me?"

"I asked you what happened to the baby, and you said you didn't know. That it was just gone... Wait, Mama, hey! Are you okay? What's the matter?"

Carmilla catches them both off guard. She is actually sobbing now, out of nowhere. Face in her claws, digging them into into her forehead, and leaving red welts on the skin there. Her body shakes, wracked with grief, as if she's finally letting it all out, like she's been holding it together. For them. She probably has.

"I..." Carmilla starts, tears streaming between her fingers. "I can't! I'm sorry--I can't!"

Carmilla starts breathing rapidly, in-between sobs, like she's hyperventilating. Odette can't remember the last time she's seen her mother this way. Not since...

She and Clara are on their feet in an instant, about to wrap their mother up in their arms, and console her. Hug her, hold her, or...something. Anything, to get her to calm down and tell them what's going on.

They would have, anyway, except suddenly, Vaggie is there, already doing it for them.

"Carmilla, hey!" Vaggie says, squeezing Carmilla's shoulders from behind, much more level-headed and put together than the moment prior. She almost looks like she's back to her normal self. Brave...or at least she's trying to be. "Carmilla! Carmilla, stop! It's okay. You don't have to do this."

"I do!" Carmilla shouts, turning her head to look at Vaggie. The angel is surprised -- the matriarch's eyes are glowing. But around the edges, they've softened, and there's so much blue mixed in with the red.

Odette notices, too. Carmilla's eyes haven't been that way since...well, since they were alive. Like...like the human part of her is trying to fight to the surface. Resurrected by memories; ones she's being forced to recall, that she might rather have forgotten, to spare herself the pain.

"I have to tell them, Vaggie. They need to understand."

"Understand what, Mom?" Odette asks. She knows she shouldn't keep asking this. It's stupid. It's obviously hurting her mother. Odette's probably pushing a line here, that shouldn't be crossed, and she knows it. But her curiosity is killing her, all over again, and she just can't help herself. She needs to know what's wrong, so she and Clara can fix it.

Vaggie surprises her again.

"Let me do it, then," Vaggie says, forcefully, insisting, trying to get Carmilla to see reason. "You've been so strong for me. You've helped me so much. Let me do this for you."

"Vaggie, you don't have to...please, just give me a moment. I can--"

"No. This is hurting you. I want to help." Then, without hesitation, the angel looks at Odette and Clara, straight in the eye. Odette sees pain there, too; so much pain, and loss, but Vaggie pushes past it, and tells them, point-black, "It's me! Carmilla lost her baby, and it was me! All the Exorcists! We're lost children! We all died before we were born! They did tests on your blood when I was in the hospital, and you're all a match! Carmilla is my mother. You're my sisters! I know this may be hard to believe, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but you have to--!"

Vaggie doesn't get a chance to finish her tirade. Suddenly, a body collides into her front, wrapping its arms around her snuggly, in an almost too-tight bear hug. The angel stumbles on her feet, and may have toppled onto the floor, if the other person hadn't caught her.

That's when Vaggie notices the other person who has her is Clara, her arms grasped around her middle, with her face buried in the fallen angel's neck.

"I knew it!" Clara proclaims into Vaggie's skin, letting go of the smaller woman just enough to look back at Odette, sitting on the futon with their mother in a shocked stupor. Carmilla is looking at them, too. "I fucking told you, Odette! I fucking told you!"

Odette stands, and then immediately collapses to her knees. Despite her addled brain, despite her racing mind, and despite the absolute lack of belief she's experiencing in that moment, she still has enough of her wits about her to say, "Shit...sis, you were right."

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #ask #fan theories #vaggie carmilla related au

[sockablock]

Rating: General Audiences (No Archive Warnings Apply) Words: 2,181 Summary: Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming. Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios. (or: Laios, Falin, and Marcille talk about parents.)

Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming.

Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios.

“I’ll have to know how much to mutton to serve,” Senshi continues. “Or would they prefer the eel serpent instead?”  

Marcille can practically hear Chilchuck counting to ten under his breath. He only makes it to eight before Falin says, “Oh…I haven’t actually heard back from them yet—”

And Laios starts, “Of course they’re not—Falin, you what? You didn’t—”

“Yes,” Marcille interjects. “She invited them.”

Laios stands up so fast that his chair falls over and he hits the table. His robe send daisies scattering to the ground. “Wh—but…why would you do that?”

“Because they’re our parents, Laios,” Falin looks up at him. “They should be here when I get married.”

His expression darkness. “No they shouldn’t. Your wedding day is supposed to be happy.”

“It’s what she wants,” Marcille says, surprisingly forcefully. “It’s what will make her happy.”

“What do you know?” Laios snaps.

Marcille gasps. “I—that’s—” She seems too stunned or angry to speak. For a moment after, the garden is quiet as a graveyard, everyone fixed in horrified place.

Then Marcille shoots up and slaps the table. “It’s my wedding too!” she says.

“They’re our parents!”

“So what? You won’t even have to talk to them! They’ll be seated somewhere else!”

“Have you already thought this through? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because we knew you’d be—”

Laios turns to Falin, utterly betrayed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Falin looks like she’s about to cry, which is when Chilchuck and Kabru, acting almost in unison, grab Senshi and say, “Let’s go check on Izutsumi,” and half-drag, half-run themselves out of the garden.

Falin twists the edge of her shirt in her lap. Marcille huffs loudly. “See? This is exactly what we wanted to avoid—”

“Marcille,” Falin says.

“Huh?”

She takes Marcille’s hand. “Can you give us a second?”

Marcille starts. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Laios has fixed his glower at the ground to staunchly avoid looking at Marcille.

She sighs. “Okay, fine. But seriously, if you need me, I’ll be right over—”

Falin squeezes her hand. “I know. Thanks.”

With one last glance –now wavering between righteousness and nervous regret – Marcille trudges out of the courtyard.

The energy seeps out of Laios in that moment, though his anger clearly remains. He sits down and grabs a daisy, comically tiny in his large, worn hands, and starts pinching the stem.

“I…when did you ask them?”

Falin walks around the stone picnic table to sit next to her brother. She spends most of her time barefoot these days – if she can get away with it – and hardly makes a sound as she moves.

Her shoulder bumps Laios’s. He doesn’t lean into it, but doesn’t shift away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I wrote to them right after we settled the date. I didn’t want…I know letters can take a while to reach them, so I didn’t want them to miss it.”

“I don’t know why you’re still writing to them,” Laios bites. It has less edge than before, though. “It’s not like they care.”

“That’s not true—” Falin begins.

“They sent you away!”

“They did everything they could first,” Falin says. She tries to firm her voice up as they begin treading on old ground, though it occurs to her that they’ve never spoken this plainly about it before. “And it was for the best, especially after you…” She bites her lip. Then flinches as her fangs draw a bead of blood.

“Falin!” Laios says, looking alarmed. “Are you okay?”

She wipes at her mouth. “Don’t worry, brother.” She tries for a smile. “I still forget I have these sometimes.”

Falin knows Laios well enough to see him grapple with the urge to say something about dragon-chimera teeth sharpness while also stay mad enough to be taken seriously.

“I am really sorry,” Falin says again before Laios can pass out from the internal struggle. “You’re right. I should have said something.”

Laios’s shoulders slump. He sighs and reaches for another daisy.

“I do know why you’re still writing to them,” he admits, tying two stems together. “I know that the way you feel about them is different than the way I do. It is your wedding. If you want them there, that’s all that matters.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I was only going to bring it up if they said they were coming, otherwise I would have worried you for nothing. But…I ended up hiding it from you anyway, and that was wrong.”

“Would you have uninvited them if I asked you to?”

“Of course,” Falin says immediately. “I want you to have a good time too. It’s important to me that it’s a happy day for everyone I care about.”

Laios manages a tiny grin at that. He holds up the start of his flower chain. “You know, if you’re worried about how long it’s taking them to answer, I can just summon them here. I am the king of a whole country, after all.” Then his face goes slack. “You’ve told them I’m the king, right?”

“Er…”

Laios groans when Falin trails off. “They don’t even know yet?”

“They might,” Falin says quickly. “I’ve written to them and said that you beat the Lord of the Dungeon and people really like you for it. And Chilchuck says that pretty much everyone in the world has heard the story by now.” At Laios’s expression, Falin amends, “Maybe not everyone. Maybe just…mostly everyone.”

Laios sighs. “I really hate being king, you know. Well—that’s not what I mean. It’s important to me that I’m able to change people’s minds and make a place where everyone I care about is happy. And I know I can only do that because I’m the king. But…I didn’t even care about all that ‘leadership’ stuff when we were kids, let alone now.”

“That’s what makes you a good at it,” Falin says.

“I know,” Laios’s mouth quirks. “That’s what Kabru and Marcille keep—oh, Marcille. Shoot. I need to talk to her.”

Laios moves to stand, but Falin reaches a hand out and catches him by the wrist. “Wait,” she says. “About that—”

“I know,” Laios groans, “I shouldn’t have yelled—”

“No,” Falin says. “It’s not just that. Has she…talked to you about her invitations yet?”

“Huh?” Laios blinks. “Oh, uh, no. Why?”

Falin’s gaze casts downward. “She was defending me, but it’s not only that. You should ask her about it.”

“Uh, okay,” Laios says. “Is that all?”

Falin lets go of his sleeve. “Yep.”

***

Laios finds Marcille sullenly conjuring little butterflies out of the courtyard’s central fountain and making them chase each other around the statue of a particularly ugly fish. When she notices him approaching, the butterflies all shake and collapse into waves of water.

She waits until he’s a few feet away from her before saying, “I know you think it’s going to be awful, but ever since Falin sent the invitation I’ve been thinking really hard about this. There’s lots of tables, and you’ll be next to Falin and me at the head one, so if we put some decorative hedges between us, you won’t even be able to see them.”

“I don’t think Falin would have invited our parents just to hide them behind a bush the whole night,” Laios says. “Can I sit?”

Marcille eyes him warily, then exhales. Her ears droop when the tension leaves her. “I owe you an apology, don’t I?”

Laios sits in the grass and leans against the edge of the fountain next to Marcille’s staff. “I do too. Um, maybe even more than one, right?”

“What do you mean?”

Laios rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I don’t actually know. Falin was kind of vague about it.”

“Did she tell you about my mom?” Marcille says, suddenly rigid again.

“Oh” Laios says, now incredibly out of his depth. “No?”

“Oh.” Marcille slumps.

Laios nudges her leg in a sign of peace. “Has something about your mother been bothering you?” His mouth opens when the clues finally line up. “Oh, Marcille. Is she not coming?”

Marcille knocks her staff over when she leans down to grab Laios around the neck and start to cry.

“Sff…yes…I mean…no. But it’s—it’s more complicated than that.”

Laios adjusts his position so he can pat Marcille on the back. Teary rivulets stick to the fur of his cloak.

“Marcille…I’m so sorry.”

“She…it’s not that she doesn’t want to be there. Not at all.” Marcille sniffs. “But—politically, it’s really hard for her right now. The human court she works for is basically controlled by the Western Elves. And they aren’t exactly our enemies, but they’ve made it pretty clear that they’re watching us carefully. And…I’m technically criminal, and even though Falin is the king’s sister, pretty much everyone knows she’s a chimera, which my mom doesn’t care about, but lots of other people do, so…”

“So she can’t come,” Laios says.

“No,” Marcille says. “But it’s not yours or Falin’s faults,” she adds with the next breath. “Seriously, I don’t want either of you beating yourselves up about it. It’s just the way things are. And my mom would probably want to bring her new husband with her anyway, which…” Marcille makes an expression that is only worsened by her red cheeks and runny nose.

Laios chooses not to ask Marcille to elaborate, instead passing her a handkerchief. Marcille blows her nose loudly.

“I just thought that if neither of my parents could be there, at least yours and Falin’s could.”

The fountain burbles gently behind them.

“Right,” Laios says.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Marcille adds quietly. “Not that—no, I’m not saying you should be grateful, or anything, and I don’t really approve of the way they treated your or Falin either. I mean, they’re old enough to know better.”

“Uh, right,” Laios says, slightly less certainly.

“I wish it was easier,” Marcille finishes. “That’s all.”

The two of them sit together in silence for a moment, watching pale wisps of clouds trail across the afternoon sky.

“What if she wore a disguise?” Laios says eventually, breaking the spell.

Marcille snorts in surprise. “What?”

“Or casts an illusion spell. She can, right? Then no one would even have to know.”

“I—I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“You were busy trying to figure out how to put my parents up a tree?”

“It wouldn’t have been up a tree!” Marcille laughs and slaps Laios on the shoulder. “If they’re going to be my in-laws, I at least want them to like me.”

“Did you know Falin hasn’t even told them I’m a king, yet?”

“She told me she wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know, so she didn’t mention it.”

Laios and Marcille share a look. “That sounds like Falin,” Laios says.

“Do you want them to know?” Marcille asks. “It might actually be good for us, especially since the North is usually so apolitical.”

“Er, is it?” Laios says, and Marcille rolls her eyes.

“Aren’t you from there?”

“I was a kid—”

“Then aren’t any of Kabru’s lessons sinking in?”

“Of course they are,” Laios says defensively. “Did you know that gnomes have a special ceremony they perform when young gnomes come of age? It’s called the—”

“I mean lessons about things other than how cool other races are. Like diplomacy? And tactics?”

Laios sinks slightly lower into the grass. “Yes,” he says petulantly.

“Really?” Marcille says.

“Sort of?”

Marcille laughs. She’s about to add something else when suddenly, loud clamoring echoes from the open hall opposite the courtyard and Izutsumi shouts her way into view, closely trailed by Chilchuck, Senshi, and Kabru, all urgently trying to pull her back.

“—do you mean, not now? I didn’t waste all that time picking daisies for nothing—oh, there they are!”

“No, seriously—” Chilchuck begins, then they all freeze when they spot Laios and Marcille.

“Oh,” Kabru blinks. “Is…are we interrupting anything?”

“We can come back,” Senshi adds. “I get it now.” He also winks, which is more confusing.

“It’s okay,” Marcille calls back. “Actually, we should all get back to the table, now. We’ve been slacking for long enough!”

“Did I miss something?” Izutsumi asks. “Why isn’t anyone working on the necklaces?”

“They’re not necklaces,” Marcille sighs. “They’re garlands. Falin says that in the North—”

“Why don’t we let her explain it?” Laios stands. “Come on. We should probably make a few extra too, just in case. So it’s good you brought more daisies, Izutsumi.”

"You're welcome," she preens.

And then they all go together to find Falin.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #farcille #touden siblings #laios touden #falin touden #marcille donato #jay writes #long post #fanfiction #fanfic #dungeon meshi fic #oneshot #manga spoilers

[pepperonidk]

baby blues || l.c

pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader warnings: reader goes by mom, chan refers to himself as daddy (as a joke) word count: 1321 summary: starting a family is scary, but it's less scary with you by Chan's side

a/n: this is a loose prequel to my last Chan fic, the kids are alright, but can be read as a standalone as well!

main masterlist || taglist

“Are babies supposed to be that small?” Your husband’s hushed voice whispers from beside you. The feeling of his breath against your ear sent a tickle down your spine. You held your breath as the small bundle in your arms shifted and cooed in her sleep.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed and pressed a kiss to your temple. “We made that.” He pulled you closer into his side and wiggled a finger against your baby’s fingers. Her hands opened and wrapped around his reflexively.

“Hi Jia,” he cooed. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was strained and you turned to see tears brimming in his eyes. The sight alone was enough to send you to tears yourself but you fought them back to enjoy the moment instead. 

“Jia,” you whispered to her. “Do you want your daddy to hold you?” you looked up to see Chan slightly panic as you shifted to try to move her into his arms.

“No, no,” he dismissed. “You can hold her for now, honey. I read somewhere about a critical period for her to imprint on you.” You chuckled and reminded yourself to ask about where he read that from, but tonight was the first time it was no longer just you and Chan, but a family.

The two of you had been prepping intensely for months, reading every parenting book you could get your hands on, diapering so many watermelons, anything you could do to feel like you would know what to do once the baby came. But nothing could have prepared the two of you for the reality of holding your real life child in your arms.

Or at least you couldn’t. Chan had yet to hold the baby in his arms. He was able to get away with it during the first couple of nights at the hospital because the doctors and nurses had her in and out constantly. But now… the three of you were finally home and Chan had nowhere to hide. 

It didn’t take long for you to notice his hesitation once you were alone. It was pretty obvious as soon as he brought the car carrier down from the car. Rather than setting the car seat down then unbuckling her and taking her out, he brought the carrier all the way to the nursery and set the whole thing in the crib.

“Uh, honey,” you chuckled from the door. “The baby carrier doesn’t go in the crib.”

“Right…” he sighed. He quickly turned to you and shooed you away. “I’ll get her out, just get into bed, you should rest while you can, babe.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you decided to walk into the room and towards a panicked looking Chan. he was dressed in his sweatpants and the same hoodie he’s been in since you went into labor a few days ago. His hair was going every which way and a stress pimple had begun to form at the tip of his nose. He looked ethereal.

He ran a hand through his hair and you could see his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “No rest for the wicked?” he joked as you shot him a glare. Rather than reply, you reached down into the crib where Jia was asleep in her carrier. You undid the buckles and carefully pulled her out, careful to place a hand behind her neck to support it. She stirred for just a second before letting out a tiny baby yawn that made your heart do flips. You pulled her close to your chest before turning back to your husband.

“Spill it, Chan,” you coaxed. “Why don’t you want to hold your daughter?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he let out a sigh and sat on the plush armchair beside the crib. You rocked Jia against you quietly as you waited for his answer.

“I’m scared,” he answered sheepishly. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Scared?” you echoed back to him. “Honey, you’ve read every book on parenting, you’ve watched all the mom vlogs, and I’m pretty sure you can diaper anything in existence. What are you scared of?”

“She’s real,” he said exasperatedly. “What if I drop her? What if I mess something up and it scars her for the rest of her life and she ends up having daddy issues so she hates men and then she spirals and then–”

“Woah, woah,” you interrupted. “I think you’re spiraling, babe.” You let out a quiet laugh and sat on the armrest beside him.

He looked at the baby who was snoring softly, swaddled tight in your arms. He looked envious of your position and it made your heart ache. “Chan…” you called his name softly. “You’re not going to mess her up, and if you do… thankfully her memory won’t really kick in for a while.”

Chan groaned at your response. “That’s so helpful, babe,” he pouted. “I’m serious.”

“I am too,” you smiled at him. “Babies are tougher than you think, and you are gentler than you think. And you are going to be an amazing father.”

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because you care so much already,” you replied, leaning down to press against his temple. You stood to return Jia back to her crib before Chan reached up to tug at your shirt. 

“Wait,” he called. “I think I can do this.” He was more confident now.

“Good,” you replied. “My arms are getting tired.” You smiled at him and leaned down to hand Jia over to him. “Just get your arms ready and make sure the back of her neck is supported by your arms,” you instructed.

He did as you told him and she slid into his arms easily. Her brows furrowed for a second as she adjusted before she nuzzled further into Chan’s arms. You heard him sigh in relief. 

“See?” you chimed. “Not bad, right?”

“This is nice,” he agreed with a bright grin. “Now go get some rest for real, babe. Daddy’s here.”

You cringed at his words but nodded anyway. “Alright, ‘daddy,’” you teased with a yawn. “Good night, honey.” You leaned down to give him one last peck on the lips and a kiss on Jia’s temple before heading to your bedroom. You plopped down in the bed and slipped under the covers, reaching over to turn on the baby monitor on your nightstand.

You smiled to yourself as you heard Chan’s soft voice come through the fuzzy speaker.

“Hi baby,” he cooed. You could see over the screen him holding Jia’s hand in his and cooing down at her. “I’m your daddy, or papa, or appa, or whatever you decide to call me. I can’t wait for you to start talking so that you can tell me which you prefer.” 

You chuckled softly at his words. “But for now, I think this is fine,” he continued. “Did you know I was scared of you just 5 minutes ago? I guess that goes to show how badass you are.” He looked up for a second, startled for a second. “Am I allowed to say that?” he asked himself.

“Don’t tell your mom I said that,” he shushed conspiratorially. “You and I are gonna be best friends, and I can’t wait for all our adventures together. I have so much to share with you, but first, I’ll show you a song my mom used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

Chan began singing a soft lullaby, and that was the last thing you remember before you drifted into a deep sleep… which only lasted an hour or two before Jia started crying. “Honey?” you heard Chan call for you over the monitor as well as through the wall. “I think she’s hungry.”

You got up with a small yawn, tired, but excited to take care of the family you had.

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #lee chan #lee dino #seventeen dino #dino x reader #dino fluff #lee chan x reader #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #lee chan smut #lee chan imagines #svt #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!

Beginning || Previous || Next

*****************

You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.

There’s a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.

Dear Reader, I’m not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps you’re not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.

Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.

“Take your time, dear,” he says gently. And so you do.

After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.

“Thanks,” You say.

“Anytime,” Aziraphale replies.

“What happened?” Anathema asks.

Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.

“Well for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.”

“And,” Crowley adds, “From what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.”

Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:

“Why did you take the coffee?”

You all look at her, surprised.

“Well I mean,” she continues, “If the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.”

“Or they could just not tell him,” Crowley suggests with snark. “Then it doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, it might,” Anathema counters, “We don’t know that it doesn’t.”

“I took it because of the Coffee Theory,” You say with a shrug. It’s not like it’s a big deal. “But I mean, I don’t know why that would matter to him.”

“Well,” Anathema says, “That might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.”

“Well, it’s the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.” You pause. “There’s also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like ‘take my offer or face death.’ But most people think about the first one, and that’s the one that was in my brain when I did it. There aren’t a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.”

“So you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphale’s coffee?” Anathema raises an eyebrow. “And you drank it, yes? So...did he?”

“No,” You reply, “It was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didn’t think he actually messed with it. I just wasn’t willing to take the chance, that’s all.”

Crowley’s face scrunches. “And you think he might need to know that for some reason?” He looks pointedly at Anathema.

“He might,” She gives a thoughtful hum. “I’ll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.”

-----------

The wait for boarding didn’t feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether it’s because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell it’s half-hearted and wholly-fond.

Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.

“You know,” Anathema says, leaning forward, “I just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.”

“Wait,” You say, holding back a laugh, “So everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?”

Crowley doesn’t hold back his laugh. “Oh, the big bosses won’t like that!”

“You two wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice she’s smiling while she says it.

“Psh!” Crowley waves away the thought. “Why would I? Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

“Honestly, Miss Device,” Aziraphale adds, “I have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.”

Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.

“You know,” You sigh, “It really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.”

“Ngk,” says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowley’s and leaves it there.

They like holding hands – your insides scream.

--------

When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphale’s little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.

The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because you’re traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, you’re outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.

“After you, Angel,” he says, “You think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I can’t wait for you to see this!”

Dear Reader, I don’t know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowley’s driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesn’t seem to help.

-------

The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course you’re staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.

“Probably been a while since he had a fresh audience,” You say to her. She chuckles.

“And you’re so obliging too. No doubt he’s having a great time with all this.”

“Hey, Anathema,” You begin uncertainly, “How...I mean...I’m just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I don’t really have anymore information to give. I don’t even know if he’s going to be a baby or an adult this time.”

“Hm...” Anathema thinks for a minute, “Well, I’m going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. It’s a big country, but what I’m hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.”

“Dowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?”

“Sort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. That’s my working hypothesis anyway.”

You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.

The Royal Suite.

“Are...you….serious??” Anathema asks. Honestly, you’re too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. It’s bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.

“Well, if we’re going to stay at The Ritz,” Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, “Best to do it Properly.”

“But this is ridiculous!”

Aziraphale isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.

“Unlimited resources,” You say to her, “Make for expensive taste.”

“No, kidding,” she sighs, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna need some help with these two.”

Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #someone said this counts as art #so i'm using the fanart tag #so nyeah #good omens fandom #aziracrow lasts forever #aziraphale x crowley #crowley likes showing off #especially if he knows there's someone there to appreciate his skillz #that's skillz #with a z #fanatic intervention #part 9 #poll fic #let's write #we're all in this together #fix it #go2 #i rode in a cab in nyc once it was terrifying #anathema #crowley and aziraphale #good omens 3 #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // ONE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You wrap up your affairs before flying over to your hometown, where your best friend will soon have his wedding.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: you know it’s a m1ckeyb3rry fic when the main love interest doesn’t even show up for the first few chapters…also please note this is NOT THE FIRST CHAPTER of the story there is a prologue before it!! which gives a lot of necessary background so you’re not (as) confused by the plot

divider credits: @/benkeibear

“Sora,” you cooed at your cat, your torso jammed beneath the bed as you tried to pull her out. “Dearest Sora, please don’t make this so difficult.”

“I told you you should’ve gotten rid of her when you had the chance,” Ryosuke said from where he was folding clothes to put in his suitcase. “Honestly, I don’t get why you insist on keeping her around. All she does is shit in the house and make problems.”

“She uses her litter box like a good girl, and she doesn’t cause trouble on purpose,” you said. “She’s an animal, not a person. She’s not capable of malicious intent.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is that things would be a lot easier if you had just left her at the shelter when you moved in with me,” he said.

“I’ve had her for years,” you said, finally getting a grasp on her body and yanking her out in one swift move. “She’s a part of my family. I don’t know why you’re so determined to hate her.”

“She hates me, too!” he said. True to form, Sora hissed at him as you walked past, her ears flattening to show the disdain she had always held for him. “And you always take her side. It’s like you like her more than me!”

You rolled your eyes. “She’s a cat. You’re jealous of a cat.”

And you’re the one who’s cheating, anyways. You left this second part unsaid, because it wasn’t really relevant to the conversation, and besides, you had done such a good job at maintaining the facade of normalcy in your relationship that it would be a waste to break it just because he was annoying you.

That didn’t stop you from scowling at him when his back was turned, pressing a kiss atop Sora’s head and smiling when she purred at the show of affection — or was it because you were in the kitchen and near to her container of treats on the counter that she was so pleased?

“I’m not sure what to do with you,” you admitted, scratching under her chin with one hand and opening the jar with the other, offering her half of a treat as a consolation for having ripped her so uncaringly from her hiding place. She accepted it daintily, which meant that all was forgiven, and you stroked her in appreciation.

She was an enormous, fluffy white cat, closer in size to a small dog than anything. Her eyes were a wide, endless blue, hence why you had named her Sora, and her fur felt like cotton when you ran your hands through it. You had had her for almost as long as you had been in America, and you thought that there was almost no one in the entire vapid country who you loved more.

Normally, if you and Ryosuke had to go somewhere, you’d drop Sora off at Chigiri’s. She liked him well enough, and he was typically glad for the company, so it was a mutually beneficial deal. But of course, this time, Chigiri would also be away, as he was attending the same wedding that you and Ryosuke were, which meant that you were somewhat out of luck.

Sora dangled limply in your arms like a heap of rags as you paced about the kitchen, trying and failing to come up with someone who could take care of her while you were gone. Finally giving up when you realized that Chigiri had been right, you really did need more friends, you picked up your phone and called the man in question.

“Yo,” he said, answering almost immediately, though you could hear the shower running in the background, which meant he was either about to get into the bath or had gotten out for the express purpose of answering you. Either way, you decided not to hold him up with useless pleasantries.

“Hey, Chigiri,” you said. “I heard you’re going to Reo and May’s wedding?”

“Yeah, I’m between jobs again, so it’s not like I need to take off work or anything,” he said.

“Again?” you said, your resolve to have a quick conversation shattering almost immediately. The sound of water stopped, which meant that he, too, sensed the call was probably not going to be a short one.

“Tell me about it. I can only land short-term gigs at the moment,” he said.

“Maybe you should just move away from trying to coach entirely,” you suggested. “You were a marketing major, right? You could probably go corporate.”

“I know, but I don’t think I���m that desperate yet. I’m sure something or another will come along. The issue is that no high-level team wants a coach who hasn’t played in years, but those high-level gigs are the ones that are much steadier in terms of pay and schedule,” he said.

“I’d want you as a coach,” you said loyally. “If I was a soccer player.”

“You’d be a shitty soccer player. I don’t even think my coaching could change that fact,” he said.

“You’re so mean to me,” you said.

“Someone has to do it,” he said.

“And there I was, trying to support you,” you said. “On a more serious note, though, any team that doesn’t hire you just because of what happened back then is stupid.”

“Oh, I agree completely, but try telling them that. It’s all ‘sorry, but we want a coach that has a little more experience.’ I have experience! The only reason our school ever won games was because of me, even after I stopped being able to play myself. It’s not like that dumbass coach ever did anything for us beyond praising your peacock bastard fiancé,” he said

“Exactly,” you said, though you had no idea how true this was, as according to Ryosuke, he had been the one to carry the team to victory. The roles Chigiri might’ve had to play in their victories, if any, had always been omitted.

“Ugh, it’s fine. Like I said, I’m sure there’s some youth league that’ll take me on next season, so it’s okay. I’ll work it out, like I always do,”he said.

“Let me know if you need help at any point,” you said.

“Always,” he said.

“In the meantime, uh, I actually need your help,” you said.

“Right, I was wondering why you had called,” he said.

“The thing is that I don’t have anyone else I can leave Sora with, so I was going to pay one of my company’s interns to watch her while we’re gone,” you said.

“Aw, make sure you pick someone gentle. She’s very particular,” he said.

“You know, she is my cat,” you said.

“Just reminding you!” he said.

“I think I know who I’m going to ask already, so as long as he agrees to it, it’ll be fine,” you said.

“Okay, so what’s my place in all of this?” he said.

“Ryosuke and I have to go over a little earlier, since I’m the maid of honor, so I was wondering if you’d be alright with watching her until you have to leave?” you said.

“Why, because you don’t have to pay me?” he said.

“I can, if you want,” you said. “It’s just so she can be somewhere she’s comfortable, since she’s never met this kid before.”

“I was just joking, don’t worry about it. Drop her off whenever,” he said.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“Yup,” he agreed. “Now, I was kind of in the middle of something, so…”

“Oops, right, go enjoy your shower,” you said.

“Wait, how’d you know I was showering?”

Although there were several interns working for your company at any given time, you generally paid little attention to most of them. You were too busy with your own work and life to care about their struggles, so beyond giving them advice when they asked and helping them out when you didn’t have to go out of your way to, you didn’t interact with them much.

There was one boy, though, who had caught your eye. Something about his aloof personality and quiet demeanor reminded you of a person you had known back in high school, and you had unofficially adopted him, though you weren’t sure if he was exactly aware of this fact.

Actually, he was definitely unaware, considering the way he all but jumped out of his skin when you sat across from him in the lunchroom.

“Hey, Niko,” you said brightly. His dark hair covered his eyes, so you couldn’t read his reaction, but if you had to guess, it was probably panic. If you were in his place, that was what you’d be feeling, considering it wasn’t exactly typical of the regular employees to hang out with the students.

“Um, hello, Miss L/N,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice level. “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No,” you said. “I just need you to do me a favor.”

He got out of his seat immediately, pulling out his phone from his pocket and opening the notes app. You furrowed your brow as he tapped his foot expectantly.

“Well? What’s your coffee order? And which shop do you want me to get it from? I accidentally went to Starbucks the other day to get a latte for the director and he freaked out about it,” he said.

“Oh! He thinks Starbucks makes their coffee too sweet, that’s probably why,” you said.

“I learned that the hard way,” he said.

“Yikes, I’m sure that was not a fun conversation,” you said. “But that’s unimportant. I don’t need coffee, and you don’t have to say yes to this or anything. I guess you can consider it to be more of a request from a friend — although I promise I will pay you!”

“Okay,” Niko said hesitantly.

“I’ll just lay it on you,” you said.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I’m going abroad for a wedding soon, and I need someone to watch my cat,” you said. “She’s very well-behaved and friendly! Honestly, she’ll just sit with you on the couch the whole time, I’m sure. I’ll give you her food and everything, and like I said, I’ll pay you, so how about it?”

For the first time, he looked up at you, his hair falling out of his face and revealing bright, shimmering eyes. He clasped his hands together, a smile threatening to dawn upon his face, and then it was your turn to grow bewildered by the sudden switch in his personality.

“Yes!” he said. “I’d even do it for free, Miss L/N.”

“Woah, are you a cat enthusiast or something? And none of that; of course I’m going to pay, or else it’d just feel like I’m taking advantage of some poor intern,” you said.

“I really like them,” he said. “I’ve had one my whole life, but my house is a three hour drive from campus, so I haven’t gotten to see her much since graduating high school. I really miss hanging out with her, though, so it’ll be nice to have a cat around, even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Perfect!” you said, cheering internally at how well things had worked out. “She’ll be staying with a friend of mine, so if you’ll give me your number, I’ll send it to him so you can coordinate picking her up at some point.”

“Sure,” he said, giving you his phone so you could type his number into your own. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Hyoma Chigiri,” you said. Niko’s jaw dropped.

“Hyoma Chigiri?” he whispered. “You’re friends with him?”

“Do you know him or something?” you said, handing him his phone back. Niko shook his head.

“Not personally, but I remember reading about what happened to him,” he said. “It’s one of the reasons my parents convinced me to stop playing soccer.”

“Ah, maybe don’t mention it around him,” you said. “He’s doing fine now, but he still doesn’t like talking about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Niko said. “My lips are sealed. I just can’t believe I’m going to have Hyoma Chigiri’s number in my phone!”

“Feel free to act like a fan all you want,” you said, after the initial strangeness of meeting someone still so obsessed with Chigiri had passed. “He really appreciates it when people praise him. Though, you probably shouldn’t spam him or anything.”

“I’ll be just as responsible with his phone number as I will with your cat. Thank you for entrusting me with this, Miss L/N! I promise I won’t let you down,” he said.

“I know you won’t,” you said. “And, to be fair, it’s not really a difficult task. Just sit at home and watch TV a lot and be kind with her; if you can do that, then Sora will be perfectly content.”

“That’s what I’d do anyways,” he said.

“Great,” you said. “Now I can feel even less like I’m taking advantage of some poor intern.”

“Thank you again for your faith in me!” he said when you reached your office, bowing at you as if you were some kind of sage master that had offered him a great opportunity for personal growth.

At least he was taking it seriously. You thanked whatever deity had intervened on your behalf that you had found the one person within a ten-mile radius who would care for Sora as well as you or Chigiri would.

Unlike Ryosuke, you barely packed anything but the most basic of items. This was because you knew full well that the minute you stepped foot on Japanese soil, you would be dragged into Reo’s arms, whereupon he would force you into his car and take you shopping at the closest luxury mall — on his card, of course. He was prone to such acts when it came to you, mostly because you were one of the first true friends he had ever had, and so he tended to spoil you as if you were his baby sister or something.

“How can you be sure that Reo’s going to get you everything you need?” Ryosuke said, eyeing the suitcase you lifted into the trunk of the car. “It’s been a pretty long time since you saw him last. He’s probably matured a ton since then — I mean, he’s getting married! What kind of wife would be okay with her husband doting on some random girl?”

“For one, I’m not some random girl; I’ve known May longer than Reo has, and I’m also the one who introduced them to one another. She knows there’s nothing between us, so there would be no reason for her to not be okay with it. Secondly, I’ve been friends with Reo for so long that he’s more like a weird cousin of mine than anything. The Mikages look after their own, and it just so happens that I am, by proxy, one of them. So I can be reasonably confident that it’ll work out in that way,” you said.

“Don’t you feel bad, then?” he said. “You’re using your best friend for his money.”

“You’re so determined to find fault with our relationship,” you said. “It’s not like that. Everyone has different ways to show affection for the people they care about. It just so happens that Reo’s so wealthy that that kind of thing is his own personal manner.”

Ryosuke scoffed, pressing the button to turn on the ignition and starting the car without another word, prompting a worried mewl from Sora, whose carrier was currently on your lap. You tapped the side to remind her that you were still there with her, and she quieted at that.

“Don’t forget that we have to go to Chigiri’s first,” you said.

“Yes, yes, we’ll stop by your lover’s house,” Ryosuke said. At your surprised expression, he laughed. “What? You’re always with him or at his place. Any normal person would suspect it.”

There were a million things you could say in response, but the least-inflammatory was a repetition of the same thing you had been telling him since the day the two of you got together.

“You know I’ve never been with anyone but you,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “I guess that’s true. No matter how many people you sleep with now, you can never change the fact that I was the first.”

“Hm,” you said, staring out of the window and speaking to his reflection instead of facing him properly. “Don’t be crude.”

“Come on, it’s just us two. When else can we make these kinds of jokes?” he said.

“You didn’t seem like you were joking,” you noted.

“Y/N, I’m hurt. You thought I was being serious? I mean, did you really think that I believed for a second that anyone preferred that washed up princess’s company to mine?” he said, stalling the car in the driveway and grinning. “Tell him I said hi.”

“You and I both know that’ll accomplish nothing,” you said, slinging the bag of Sora’s things over your shoulder and gripping the handle of her carrier so tightly that your knuckles whitened. “I’ll be back soon. No point in missing our flight.”

“I’ll be here,” Ryosuke said, waving at you as he began to fiddle with the knobs on the car’s dashboard, evidently trying to decide whether he wanted the radio to play classical music or the latest episode of some talk show.

You rang the doorbell and then stepped back, knowing it might take Chigiri a second to get to the door depending on where in the house he was located. Luckily, he had been expecting your arrival, so by the time your arm began to grow numb from holding Sora’s carrier, he was opening the door and inviting you in.

“Thank you again for doing this,” you said, setting the carrier down with a thump and massaging your shoulder. Chigiri crouched gingerly, unzipping the opening to the carrier and allowing Sora to peek her head out. When she realized where she was, she bounded out, rubbing her head against Chigiri’s legs as he breathed out a laugh and rubbed her face with his hands.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “It’s nice having someone else in the house. Less lonely.”

Your face softened, and if it weren’t for Ryosuke’s presence looming in the driveway, you’d have leaned over and hugged him. But as it was, your fiancé was waiting, and if you lingered for much longer, you risked missing your flight.

“You have Niko’s number?” you said.

“Yeah. He’s kind of a weird kid,” Chigiri said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“He keeps telling me that he thinks I’m cool and that he can’t believe he’s texting me,” Chigiri said, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “So strange.”

At this, you smiled, vowing to text Niko and thank him later. His admiration was exactly the boost Chigiri needed when he was so down on his luck, and though he was pretending like he found it odd, it was obvious he was pleased by the attention.

“As long as he can take care of Sora,” you said. Chigiri nodded in determination.

“I’m sure he can. He obviously has good taste in other things, so it stands to reason that he’d be the kind of person who could really look out for her in the way she’s used to,” he said.

“You would be the first to die in a horror movie,” you said. “Did you know that?”

“What? Why would you say such a thing?” he said.

“Never mind,” you said. “I should go. Ryosuke’s in the car, and our flight is soon.”

Chigiri wrinkled his nose, his whole delicate face crumpling at the mention of your fiancé.

“I thought something felt off about the property,” he said.

“You are so dramatic,” you said. “He says hi.”

“Tell him I said fuck off,” Chigiri said.

“I don’t think — actually, sure,” you said. “I’ll do that. See you at the wedding. And Sora, please be a good girl for Chigiri and Niko alike.”

“She will be,” Chigiri said affectionately. Sora had wriggled her way into his arms, and he stood while hugging her to his chest, ready to shut the door behind you. “See you, Y/N.”

You were reluctant to leave, because it would be so easy to stay and talk with Chigiri while playing with Sora, but you knew you had to. Even that knowledge, though, was hardly enough — it was simply the thought of seeing Reo and May again that made you take the next step, and the next, all of the way until you were back in the passenger seat of the car and Ryosuke was reversing the car down the driveway.

“So, how is my beloved teammate?” Ryosuke said. “Did he leave you with a message for me?”

“Yes,” you said. “He told me to tell you to fuck off.”

Ryosuke chuckled. “Sounds about right. He’s always been a petty son of a—”

“Ryosuke,” you sighed. “Do you really get any gain out of insulting the only friend I have left in this country?”

“It’s the same gain he gets out of insulting your fiancé!” he said.

“Which I always reprimand him for,” you said. “And also, he at least has something resembling a reason to resent you. When you do it, it just feels excessive.”

“You defend me to him?” he said.

“Obviously?” you said. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I suddenly feel very cheerful and optimistic,” he observed.

“What are you talking about?” you said. He waved you off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It was a personal musing. Think of it like an interjection from the narrator, except that in this case, the narrator and the protagonist are the same.”

“Okay,” you said. “Sure. If that’s what makes sense to you.”

The two of you spent the rest of the drive to the airport in relative silence. Ryosuke hummed along to whatever pop song came on the radio, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove, and you texted your friends — mostly Reo and May, who had been anxiously waiting for your arrival since you had agreed to come at all.

When you had first started dating, you used to go on aimless drives for hours, talking about whatever crossed your mind. Not a second would go by without one of you speaking, but that kind of constant conversation wasn’t sustainable. Eventually, you both ran out of things to say, and so you began to spend more and more of your time together in silence. That was around the time that Ryosuke began to seek outside assistance in quelling the fire which was constantly blazing within him; whether it was a coincidence or a cause, you could not tell, but it remained that everything had happened at once and led to your relationship now being like this.

You always forgot how long the flight back to Japan was. It was the second reason you never visited, beyond the fact that there was hardly anything worth visiting in the first place — it was a day-long ordeal composed of arguing with the TSA agents, waiting in security lines, and of course the flight itself, which was only marginally bearable because Reo insisted on buying you first-class tickets.

You spent most of it dozing, the armrest between you and Ryosuke pushed up so you could lean your head against his chest as he watched a movie. In the haze of your sleep, you could feel his arm wrapping around your shoulders, his fingers idly stroking your cheek as if that were the natural outcome, as if there was no other place that they could come to rest. It was the easiest that things had ever been between you in some time, and subconsciously, you relished in it, in the soft scent of his cologne, in the warmth of pretending like you were loved by someone again.

Reo had told you, in no uncertain terms, to not even attempt going to the baggage claim. He had contacts in the airport who would take care of it, because of course he did, and so the only thing you and Ryosuke had to do was meet him and May at the gate. You stopped in the bathroom, mostly at your insistence, so that you could freshen yourself after the long flight, which had sapped you of most of your energy despite how much of it you had spent sleeping.

“Are you nervous?” Ryosuke said as you reached the door. He held both of your carry-on bags in his hands, an amused grin on his face as you all but vibrated with every step you took.

“Of course,” you said. “I haven’t seen them in so long, and I haven’t been back home in that same amount of time. I don’t know how it’s all changed. And what if it hasn’t? What if the only one who’s changed is me?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said, nudging you in the side. “Look who it is.”

Standing awkwardly by the metal barrier separating the airport from the street in front of it, surrounded by security guards that kept the rest of the crowds at bay, was Reo Mikage. He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a polo, sunglasses perched on his head as he checked the time on the — likely expensive — watch which he wore on his left wrist.

A grin split your face, your spirit rejuvenated as surely as if you had never been exhausted in the first place. Cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice, you shouted out his name with glee.

“Reo!”

The boredom dropped from his expression immediately as his head snapped up, trying to determine the source of the noise. When he locked eyes with you, he beamed so brightly that you were all but blinded by it, and then you were both racing towards the opening in the barricade where you could finally meet.

You tossed your arms around his neck as soon as you could reach him, clinging onto him tightly, suddenly and unreasonably weepy at the fact that the two of you had finally been reunited. He did the same, squeezing you to the point that you thought you might burst from the pressure.

“I can’t believe you’re finally back,” he said, letting you go and holding you at an arm’s length so that he could look you over with a critical eye. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said. “Where’s May?”

“She had to go to the bathroom,” he said. “She should be back in a couple of seconds, and she’ll probably be furious, too, considering she was really hoping she’d spot you first. I convinced her that it would be fine for her to take a moment to herself, and that it’d probably still be a bit of time before you arrived, but, uh, I guess it ended up being kind of an unfortunate coincidence in that sense.”

“What’s up, man? Congrats on the wedding,” Ryosuke said, finally catching up to you and offering Reo his hand. Reo glanced at it, and anyone who didn’t know him as well as you did wouldn’t have even noticed the way he hesitated before taking it and shaking it with the firm conviction of a businessman.

“Thanks, Kira,” he said. “You’ve been taking care of my best friend?”

“’Course I have been,” Ryosuke said, ruffling your hair. You did your best to force a laugh, not wanting Reo to have to concern himself with your wellbeing when he was about to be married. “You’ll be the one coming back to America for our wedding soon.”

“That so?” Reo said, raising an eyebrow at you. “I expect to be the first one invited to the wedding, then.”

“Was I the first one invited to yours?” you shot back.

“Er, I mean, not exactly…” Reo said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had to tell Nagi first, since I wanted him to be my best man and had to give him adequate time to prepare for the hassle of the role.”

“Then I’ll invite May first, since she’ll naturally be my maid of honor,” you said, your stomach twisting at the mention of Nagi. “But you can be second, Reo.”

“That’s right!” a new voice said. “He had better be second, considering he sent me to the bathroom so that he could win our bet!”

And then there she was in front of you: Reo’s soon-to-be wife and your former roommate, May Ducat. Her thick brown hair was loose and wavy around her shoulders, and her peacock-feather eyes gleamed as she embraced you tightly.

“May,” you said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you!” she said. “I miss you every day. Mostly because you were a much better roommate than this one. He snores.”

“Hey!” Reo said, gasping in offense. “I do not.”

You dug around in your pocket before solemnly presenting her with a box of breathe-right strips.

“I know,” you said. May clapped in delight, accepting them and then turning to hand them to Reo, who took them even as he protested that he definitely didn’t need them and how would Y/N even know if I snore, anyways?

“Congratulations, May,” Ryosuke said, offering her his hand as well. May glanced at but did not accept it, opting to smile frigidly instead.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. After a discomfiting pause, Ryosuke lowered his hand, brushing it off against his pants and clearing his throat.

“I couldn’t let Y/N come alone,” he said.

“Of course not,” she said.

“It’ll be my first time meeting her parents,” he said. At this, May gave you a sad look. Though you had never told her much, she had always harbored her suspicions, always been less fond of Ryosuke than she really ought to be, considering he was typically polite to her.

“I hope it goes well,” she said. Ever the diplomat, Reo was the first to break the ensuing silence, clearing his throat.

“Alright, then! I’ll have one of my drivers take you two to your hotel room, where your things will be waiting, and then tonight, we can show you around. Y/N, they just built a new mall where that park used to be, so we can go shopping there,” he said.

“They built a mall over the park?” you said, your eyes widening at the prospect. Reo nodded.

“Isn’t it great? It’s so much more convenient than the one we used to go to,” he said. You disguised your frown with a yawn.

“Right,” you said.

“Try not to sleep,” May advised. “It’ll help you break your jet lag if you just stay up for as long as you can.”

“We’ll do our best,” Ryosuke said. May gave him a measured look before nodding slightly, turning away to continue her conversation with Reo instead of risking further discussion with your fiancé.

The hotel you were staying in was only a few streets down from your childhood home, and as with all things Reo, it was excessively opulent. The shower itself was large enough to fit at least ten people, and you spent far longer in it than was really necessary, rinsing the grime of your journey off of yourself.

“Going to sleep already?” Ryosuke said when you crawled under the covers of the bed beside him. “May recommended we wait.”

“I know,” you said with a yawn. “I’m just going to lie down and close my eyes. I’m not actually going to sleep or anything.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, patting you on the head. “I’ll do the same, then.”

Before long, the both of you had passed out.

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #modern au #peregrine #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[f4iry-bell]

Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!

Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.

first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.

NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.

Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.

It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.

His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.

“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.

“You’re going to fall.” She told him.

He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”

“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.

He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.

“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.

“I’m Avery,” She corrected.

She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.

“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.

She crossed her arms. “No.”

He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.

“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.

“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.

“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.

“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”

She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.

“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”

“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”

“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.

“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.

“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.

Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.

The Will Read

Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.

Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.

“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”

Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.

“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.

“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.

“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.

“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”

Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.

There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.

“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”

“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.

Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”

Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.

The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…

“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”

And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.

Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.

“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”

“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.

“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”

“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.

“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.

“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”

“I don’t understand,” She said.

“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”

Oren stood between us and her.

“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”

“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.

“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”

“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.

“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.

Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”

“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.

Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.

Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway

Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.

If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.

Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.

He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.

“Pull the candlestick.”

He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.

“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.

He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”

She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.

“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”

“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”

“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?

She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.

“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”

She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.

“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.

“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.

He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.

“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.

“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”

Points to Heiress. She's quick.

“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.

“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”

“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.

“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.

“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”

This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.

“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.

“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”

“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.

“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.

“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”

“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.

“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”

“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.

“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”

She does, she wants to know. She must.

“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”

Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)

Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.

His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.

He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.

When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”

“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.

“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.

“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.

“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”

Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.

#jameson hawthorne #the inheritance games #the final gambit #jameson hawthorne pov #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 1

Summary: Almost three years after escaping to New York for college, Danny finally returns to Frankenmuth for the summer, welcomed with open arms by all his family and old friends. All but one. With Sam’s apparent hatred of him, Danny must try to get through the summer with him hanging over his life like a storm cloud, darkening each day spent with their families.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: ANGST, brotherly fluff

Word Count:  1.9k

Warnings: none for this ch? Some shit between Danny and Sam is alluded to but not addressed fully. Also day drinking lol

A/N: I’m so excited to share this new series with y’all, I hope you like it. The series as a whole, as well as specific dialogue/comments/thoughts, are based off a handful of angsty heartbreaking songs that I will post an “unofficial playlist” for, so look for that at the bottom of a masterlist post for this series soon! Make sure to fill out the taglist form in my bio if you want to be tagged in any updates for this or future works! Thanks for reading!

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

June 19th, 2020, 5:07 pm.

It had been two years, ten months, and 15 days since Danny had spoken to Sam. Two years, ten months, and 15 days since he had felt fully whole. And two years, ten months, and 15 days full of regret. But who was counting, right?

Danny was. He had begun counting the second he boarded that plane with a one-way ticket out of Frankenmuth, headed straight for “The Big Apple” to start his life over. Away from his family, away from his high school friends and the worst of all, away from Sam. Thankfully Josh had already moved to New York the second he graduated, studying Film Production at Columbia University and practically adopting Danny the second he got there, making sure he was adjusting to the city well and spending as much time with him as their schedules allowed. Coincidentally, Josh’s former roommate had decided to move out right before Danny made the choice to go to New York, leaving the second bedroom of his apartment open for him to fill.

As the distance between Sam and him increased, Danny only became closer to the twins. Even though they had treated him like he was their younger brother ever since he moved in next to the Kiszka’s at age seven, living with Josh who called Jake on facetime every day truly made them the older brothers he had always wished for.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

Danny removes his forehead from the cool glass of the plane window, turning to see a flight attendant standing expectantly in the isle with a too-sweet smile. “Oh, uh no I’m ok, thanks.”

“Alright then. Just letting you know we should be landing in about 20 minutes, so could you please fasten your seatbelt?”

Danny glances down, realizing he hadn’t re-buckled his belt after he had gone to the bathroom to stretch his legs and pull himself together as his family would surely be waiting for him at the luggage return. “Of course, my bad.” He re-buckles it before leaning his head back against the seat as she walks away, closing his eyes and praying that the next few months of his life would pass quickly.

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

Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Shit, there it is. Danny rushes to grab his bag, feeling claustrophobic as the luggage return fills with more and more people. Go out the door, find the car. Out the door, find the car. Drive home and pray he’s not there. It takes him mere seconds to find his parents’ car as his mom frantically waves from across the lot, grinning as she darts between the traffic the instant she sees Danny.

She tackles him in a hug as she rocks them back and forth, her grip on him crushing as he tries to keep his balance. “Oh my god you look so good, how was Junior year? Have you been eating enough? Getting out and having some fun right?”

“Hey mom.”  He locks his arms around her, hugging her just as tight as he smiles. “It was good, yes I have, and yes I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She pulls away teary eyed, still smiling wide at him. “Oh, I know, but that’s my job. And you haven’t been home for so long, how else am I supposed to know how you’re doing?”

“Yeah… sorry about that. You know how it is, between school and work it’s hard to find the time to get back to Michigan for a long visit.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand in the air as if she were shooing away his apologies, taking Danny’s suitcase in the other as she leads him to the car. “You’re in college, I get it. You have better things to do than visit us. Like go to parties. And date. Meet any cute girls recently?”

His heart sinks at the question, trying to keep his smile from faltering as they reach her car. “Too busy to try and date right now, mom.” He takes the bag from her, easily sliding it into the trunk as she watches him.

“Bullshit. C’mon, you’re a young, attractive guy. You must have some girls in your lectures throwing themselves at you.”

“You know me, I’m too focused on my studies to pay attention to that. It’s fine, I promise. I’m doing good in New York, living with Josh has been great, I’ve made some good friends. Dating just isn’t at the top of my priorities right now.” He hopes that his explanation will be enough for his mom to drop the topic as they get into the car, her prying being in good intention but only resurfacing old wounds.

“Oh! Speaking of, Karen and Kelly are having a barbeque tonight to celebrate you, Jake and Josh coming home for the summer. Your dad would have come with me to get you but he’s at their place right now helping set up.”

“Great, that’s great. Can’t wait to see everyone again.” Not everyone. Danny tries to keep his mind away from him as he listens to his mom talk throughout the drive, the pit in his stomach only growing as they turn down more and more familiar streets. A small weight lifts off his shoulders when he doesn’t see him in the front yard as they pass the Kiszka’s house, pulling into his childhood home’s driveway, his thoughts louder than his mother’s voice as they get out of the car.

“Danny?”

“Hm?”

“I said, do you want to go settle in and freshen up before you head over?”

“Oh, yeah that’d be great. Sorry, didn’t hear you, must be jetlagged.”

“You’re ok, it’s alright if you need to take a nap before tonight, everyone will completely understand. It took Josh a day to sleep off the travel.”

Danny snorts as he extends the handle of his suitcase, closing the trunk with the other hand. “Yeah, I bet he did. I swear, he gets tired from taking the subway for 15 minutes, can’t imagine him traveling on a plane without at least two naps. Should be alright though, thanks.”

“Of course. Alright, I’m going to go over to the Kiszka’s and let them know you’re here, see if they need any help and all that. The fridge and pantry are stocked up if you need a snack, and your room’s just as you left it.”

“Thanks, mom. Love you, see you in a few.”

“Love you too, Daniel. Don’t take too long.” Her tone is light, joking as she spares a glance behind her to smile before disappearing into the backyard.

It’s just a few hours, it’ll be fine. I can avoid him all night, there should be enough people to do that easily. Just a few hours and then I don’t have to see him all summer. Except he lives next door. And his older brothers are my closest friends and roommate. And our parents are friends. Should be easy to avoid him, right? God, I’m fucking screwed.

The second he reaches his room, he faceplants into his bed, nearly toppling off the edge of the twin after getting accustomed to his queen bed in New York. Rolling onto his back, he finally takes the room in. It was exactly how he left it the last time he visited, unchanged from when he lived there, like everything had frozen in time as he continued on. Everything in his room reminded Danny of a simpler time, of him. Of laying side by side on his too small bed, talking for hours as they stared up at the soft yellow of the Neil Young Harvest poster hung on the ceiling. The old acoustic guitar in the corner they would trade back and forth on his floor for hours now sat dusty and unused. The singe mark on the wood of his windowsill from the time they got too high and let the end of their joint burn out on it. He was everywhere, in everything. Danny could never escape him no matter how far he went, everything always circled back to him. He could grow and change and learn, but Frankenmuth would forever be there to remind him of everything that once was.

Might as well get up and get the party over with instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself. At the thought, Danny slides off his bed, landing hard on the ground before forcing himself up to find something to change into. After travelling all day, he was eager to get out of his loose jeans and sweatshirt, knowing it was too nice of a day to be comfortable wearing that outside.

He opens his suitcase unenthusiastically, hoping that he had remembered to pack at least one pair of shorts. Thankfully, he had, and he finds his (quite short) yellow shorts and his Howlin’ Wolf muscle tee in no time, changing quickly and slipping into his old, slip on vans before trudging down the stairs and out the front door, heading straight for the Kiszka’s backyard.

“DANNY!” The second he walks through the side gate, Danny only sees the blur of Jake before he slams into him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he loses his footing, falling backwards and pulling Jake down with him.

When he catches his breath, Danny wraps his arms around the other man with a grin as they lay on the soft grass. “Jake! Great to see you, man. Missed you.”

Jake loosens his grip before getting up and offering Danny a hand to pull him up. “Missed you too, it’s been way too long.”

“DANNY!” This time it’s Josh who slams into him, practically jumping into his arms as Danny catches him. “I’ve missed you so much, it’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other.” He fake sobs into his neck, pulling out everything he learned from the years of theater he did in high school to put on his act.

“We live together, Josh. I saw you three days ago.” Danny’s voice is flat, but he can’t help a smile from creeping onto his face as Josh pulls away from him grinning.

“Yeah, I know, but I still missed you.” After Danny makes his rounds of teary hugs with his dad, Karen, and Kelly, he looks around the yard, hating himself for noticing his absence.

“Sam’s inside cutting some watermelon, he’ll be out soon.” Karen says with a smile, picking up on what he was looking for and thinking her comment was helpful.

“Oh, great. That’s great.” They don’t know. He never told them.

“C’mon Danny, Josh and I started day drinking an hour ago, you gotta catch up to us.”

“Jacob!” Karen swats his arm as he passes her, already on his way to start making a drink for Danny.

“What? He’s 21 now, it’s legal.”

Danny’s smile is wiped clean off his face as he hears the back door slide open, turning to see Sam standing frozen in the doorframe with a large bowl of watermelon in his hands. Say something. Say something or it’ll be weird. “Hey Sam.”

Sam’s expression is as flat as his voice when he speaks. “Daniel.”

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

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #daniel gvf #sam gvf #sanny gvf #greta van angst #greta van fluff #sam kiszka x danny wagner #sam kiszka #danny wagner

[darkwolf989]

I love your dad Vox stuff! Could I request Y/N trying to tell Vox she likes girls?

Of course you can! Enjoy!

I took a deep breath as I made my way through the familiar corridors that made up my fathers company, VoxTech. Even if I closed my eyes I was confident I would make it straight to his office door without hitting a single wall. I should know the layout that well, after all, I practically grew up here. It made me sick to my stomach that this might be the last time I walked through this building. But I couldn’t keep hiding my secret forever. I needed to tell my father the truth, and only hoped he could tolerate me for who I was. 

The kiss was what sealed my fate. Sneaking around the high school halls with a girl I had the absolute biggest crush on. Hiding behind the gym bleachers, her soft lips pressed against mine. She smelled like peaches and sunshine and for a fraction of a second, everything was right with the world. 

I had played the conversation over and over in my head a thousand times over the past few weeks. 

“Dad, I’m a lesbian,” I would say. 

A thousand different scenarios followed those words. In some scenarios, he cried. In others, he became angry. In a few, he pushed me away and shunned me as his daughter. None of the outcomes I imagined were good, but I just hoped…

Well, I hoped he would still love me. And I didn’t hurt him too badly. 

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door that would lead me over the shark tanks to my fathers central command. 

My father sat in his usual seat, the middle of countless monitors showing all the different views of hell. He sipped his coffee and his chair turned around. Instantly, his expression brightened. 

“Reader! What brings you to me this late in the day? Everything okay at school? I’m not going to get another angry phone call from your teacher, am I?” 

“Hi Daddy, no, not that I know of. I sort of have a bigger reason I want to talk to you,” I said softly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Always for my little girl,” Vox answered as he leaned back in his chair. “What’s up, babydoll?” His expression turned to one of concern. “Are you okay?”

I swallowed as I tried to bite back the nerves and stick to the script. Instead, it all blurted out at once, tears choking me as I spoke.

 “Dad, I- I think I like girls. And I’m sorry and I just, I’m sorry, Daddy! It’s just who I am!”

He stared at me for a heartbeat. I looked down and tried to choke back my tears. Here it came. The anger. The fury. The banishment. 

Wordlessly, he stood up and walked across to where I stood.  He pulled me into his arms and planted a kiss on my forehead. “There, there, little one. Is that what has you so worked up? You want to start dating and you think I’ll say no? I mean, sixteen is a little young to be out without a curfew, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement that works for us. Is there a special girl you have in your life?”

“Dad, I like girls!” I choked out as I buried his face into his shoulder. 

His arms wrapped around me and he gently rubbed my back. “I know. I heard you, sweetie. I promise we’ll figure out the dating rules. I mean, it won’t be perfect but…”

I looked up at him in confusion. Maybe, maybe I wasn’t being clear enough. “Daddy, you don’t, you don’t understand. I think I’m a lesbian.”

“Well, yes that is generally what liking girls is called,” he began. And then a pause. Shock registered across his face. “Wait, did you think I would be upset that you like girls and not boys? Sweetheart!” His hand cupped my chin and he carefully wiped away a tear before cradling me back to his shoulder. He held me tighter and I felt his chest vibrate. 

Was he…laughing?

“Honey, you didn’t honestly think I would be upset over that, did you? I mean, come on sweetie. Have you met your Uncle Val?” He planted a kiss on my forehead and held me back by my shoulders. “Reader, I love you. And nothing you say or do will ever stop me from loving you. You will always be my little girl. Promise.” He put his arm around my shoulder and carefully guided me across the walkway. “Let’s hold a family meeting tonight to discuss dating rules. Can you agree to that? I think your Auntie Vel and Uncle Val will have some…helpful input.” 

I could only nod. 

As we stood and waited for the elevator, relief flooded through me. I turned to my Dad and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He instantly hugged me back.

“Daddy? I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart. Now come on, let’s grab ice cream and you can tell me all about her. I want to know everything. What’s her name? How old is she? Does she go to your school? Who are her parents? I want to know everything.”

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up in a smile as we stepped into the elevator. “Daddy, just promise you won’t do a background check.”

He laughed as the doors closed. “No promises, babygirl.”

#the vees #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #the vees x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #voxval

[stoiclvr]

𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓.

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

cw: smoking, light cursing

more info: drabble, smoking with geto, 2006 timeline, high shenanigans

an: i hate this + i haven’t written something like this in years. send help :,)

ೃ࿐

NOVEMBER, 2006

The atmosphere became hazy as smoke filled the air, accompanied by a potent musky scent. Suguru looked amused, using his jacket to brush off the dust from the stone bench before settling down beside (y/n).

"Pass it over, do you really think I wouldn't notice you taking another hit?" He chuckled as he reached for the blunt.

“Don’t be a meanie, sharing is caring.” she whined, watching him intently as he took a deep inhale from their shared blunt.

“Well then don’t be a hog.” Geto teases. A small smile appeared on his lips as he took another inhale from the blunt. Right after he passes it over to her. “Do you think Satoru would disapprove of our little weekend getaways behind the school?” He asks, keeping his gaze locked onto her.

“He’d be too busy to notice, honestly. He’s also never around anymore.” She says twirling the blunt in-between her fingers, staring down at it.

Geto laughs. “Yeah I guess you’re right.” He replies before leaning back against the brick wall. He reaches for the blunt and inhales from it. “You’re not even gonna hit it? What’s the point in just holding it? You think you look cool or somethin’?” He teases once again.

“It’s not a matter of looking cool, it’s… you know… the principle and feeling of it.” She tries to justify.

He raises a brow at that “The principle and feeling?” A small chuckle escapes his lips. “Wow, you sure you’re not high already? Because that didn’t make a lick of sense. I can’t count how many times I’ve gotten high with you and you’ve said something corny like that.” He takes another hit before passing it to her.

“It’s cute.” He says smiling.

(y/n) takes a deep inhale from and blunt and blows it right back out into Geto’s face. This was her idea of a “sneak attack” which wasn’t the first time she’d pulled something like that.

Geto choked for a few seconds. “What the fu-“ He tried to cough. Although the smoke didn’t allow him to. He was stuck with a coughing fit in a scrunched position as he tries to regain his breath. He couldn’t help but smile a small bit as his coughing slowly stopped.

He tried his hardest not to let her know she managed to put him in a coughing fit. “You’re a jerk.” He manages to say in between small coughs.

(y/n) folds her arm uptop his shoulder placing the blunt inbetween his lips

“Sorry.” She says still grinning from ear to ear.

“You aren’t fooling anyone with that fake ass apology you know?” He laughs half heartedly.

“You’re gonna kill me.” Geto retorts as he inhales on the blunt. “Do you really get so much pleasure from torturing me like this? I mean I’d say you owe me more than a lame “I’m sorry.”

“What’d you have in mind?” She laughed

“I mean, staying in my good graces is no easy feat.” A shy look was now plastered onto his face and a pink tint was visible on his cheeks.

“I mean…” He shrugs a little as he exhales while looking away. “You could….”He took another hit and tried to hide the fact that he was blushing. “You could….” Geto looked back at her with a sheepish smile on his face. “You could… like give me a little kiss to make up for it, or something?”

“Like on the cheek?” She inquired, looking at him with a curious look.

Geto turns beet red as she mentions kissing him on just the cheek. He wanted to say no so bad and suggest something else but he was too embarrassed. “Errm..” He clears his throat and takes in another hit. “What if… what if we go beyond that? Like on the lips?”

And just like that she places a quick kiss on his lips and pulls away almost immediately. Twiddling her thumbs nervously looking around.

He freezes as she pulled away. He tried to keep his composure but he couldn’t help himself and smiled. A genuine smile. He thought he was going to die from embarassment. He takes in one more hit from the blunt before finally letting go from it. He stares at her, wondering if his face was so warm because of the weather or from the fact that he liked it. He wanted to look away but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to kiss her again.

#jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk geto #geto suguru #drabble #shorts #jjk x you #jjk fluff #fanfic #jjk fanfic