#this was supposed to be a movie night FICLET

[piratekane]

She’s bone-tired, aches in places she didn’t know could ache and muscles stretched out in a way they haven’t been for a long time. Since her physical therapy, at least. The rock climbing a few weeks ago certainly hadn’t helped, but there was no way she was going to stay with her feet rooted to the floor. Not when she could climb up 15 feet and hang there like Spider-man. Better than Spider-man.

Suck it, Tom Holland.

She paid for it later, though, and spent the next day letting her body remember how to stretch, going through yoga poses and washing her breakfast down with ibuprofen. 

It was worth it, still, to see the look on Bea’s friend’s faces. Mary was impressed, clapping her on the shoulder when she got to the bottom and telling Camila - who made it up the wall the fastest - that she had competition. Even Lilith regarded her with a level of approval that Ava ate up. She’s going to make Lilith like her. Or at least smile politely, even if it is with all her teeth.

But it was Bea’s face that made it even better. 

She hasn’t known Bea long - she’s known others longer, including that one cafeteria lady who always saves her a side of mac and cheese because Ava said one time that it was her favorite - but she already knows that a big part of her wants to impress Bea. She can’t quite put it into words. There’s something about Bea that makes Ava want to show off. Maybe it’s because one thing she’s learned about Beatrice is that her smiles are fleeting. Ava wants to collect every one of them.

She’ll have a lot of opportunities, now that Bea is her friend and her roommate.

“Where do you want this one?” Beatrice asks from the doorway. She’s holding a paper box with tons of smiley faces drawn on it in a thick-tipped permanent marker. There’s a method to her packing madness, but Ava is big enough to admit that she has no idea what’s in this particular box.

“Here is fine.” She shifts in the computer chair Bea got her, a slight pinch in her back.

Bea looks down at the last few inches of floor where Ava points and frowns. “How will you get out?”

Ava lifts her legs, wiggling her socked toes. “I’ll jump. Have you jumped on this bed? Is it a solid bed for jumping?”

“Jumped on the…” Beatrice blinks at her. “No, Ava. I haven’t jumped on the bed.”

Ava shrugs. “You’re missing out. My dorm room was not good jumping material. When’s the last time you jumped on a bed?”

“Nev-never.”

Her mouth drops open. “Never?” She immediately frowns. Beatrice wasn’t kidding when she told her that her life hadn’t been normal kid stuff and her parents were hardly around. They had that in common: a girl who lived in an orphanage and a girl who grew up alone. It makes her a little sad for Bea. “We have to fix this.”

“I am not jumping on the bed,” Bea says firmly.

Ava shrugs. Today is not the day, and tomorrow won’t be either, but soon. She stands and stretches her arms above her head, immediately dropping them so that her shirt doesn’t ride up any higher. Bea seems like the kind of girl who appreciates a little modesty. Ava can do that. Or, she can try really hard to do that.

“I am officially all moved in.” She grins, surveying her kingdom. There’s a desk in one corner, left behind by Bea’s roommate who went to study abroad and didn’t come back. A nightstand by the bed has her lamp and her hat on it. She’ll have to hang her clothes, fill the dresser, find a few posters to put up on the walls. But it’s hers. “So, roomie, what’s next?”

Bea looks around, clasping her hands behind her. “I believe those are all your things.”

“Except for the kitchen stuff.”

“Yes.” There’s a faint smile on Bea’s face and Ava feels a thrill, knowing she put it there. “How could I forget your… hot dog maker.”

“Not sure. It’s fire engine red.” But she looks around too. “I think we’re done. Now we can get ready for movie night!”

A proper end to moving day. Movie night with an Ava-curated predetermined list, tons of drinks and movie theater popcorn and Bea’s friends. She had hesitantly suggested it to Bea a few days ago. She’d never done a movie night and her College Experiences bucket list clearly had it marked as item #8. But Bea had said yes almost immediately, and Ava went to work, making a list of options in between packing and classes and meals with Bea and her friends.

They’re going to be my friends, she decides. That’s on her bucket list too.

Now she just needed them to get here. The minutes have been dragging on as she’s waited as patiently as possible. But time didn’t seem to be cooperating. It’s doing its best to drag its heels. Ava wants to grab it by the neck and shake it.

Bea seems to notice that. “They’ll be here soon.” She says it very patiently, like she already knows Ava does terrible with waiting. And Ava likes that. She likes that Bea is paying attention to her enough to notice these things.

Bea’s going to be a great roommate. Ava wants to be just as good. She looks around her room, satisfied. She can unpack later - there’s enough space to get from the bed to the door and Bea insisted she make the bed first, almost like she knew that Ava was going to stack everything in insurmountable piles and try her best to get around them.

See? she thinks. She knows me already.

She’s about to say that, to tell Bea that she’s already killing this ‘best roommate’ contest that Bea doesn’t know they’re having, when someone knocks on the door. Once, twice, three times.

Ava does jump on the bed this time, beating Beatrice to the door and pulling it open to find Camila on the other side. 

Ava beams. “Movie night!”

~

“Is the whole movie about… biking?” Lilith makes it seem like a swear word.

Ava grins, shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth, and says, “id bub nimnasts.” Everyone turns to her. She swallows and smiles more sheepishly this time. “It’s about gymnastics.”

Lilith heaves a long-suffering sound. “Gymnastics.” It’s really a testament to her disdain for everyday things, that everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like she’s spitting it from between her teeth. But then the running biker rips off her helmet and it’s Missy Peregrym and even Lilith seems interested.

Ava gets it. She does. This is peak Missy Peregrym. And it only gets better. She stops watching the movie when Missy Peregrym’s character, Haley, finds her way back to the gym and on Vanessa Lengies’ character, Joanne’s, last nerve and starts watching the room instead. Onscreen, Haley pretends to be on the phone while Joanne stomps her foot angrily, and Mary snorts, lips curled up in a smile, and that’s when Ava knows this is a good choice.

She wants to impress them so badly. It consumes her. Partly because she thinks they’re really cool, even Lilith. And partly because she thinks Bea is amazing and these people agree. Sister Frances always told her to stop wasting her time and do everyone the favor of aligning herself with the right people. Ava is pretty sure she was saying it to get rid of her, to go out and be someone else’s problem, but Ava thinks she found the right people all the same.

“Isn’t that the guy from Twilight?” Camila asks, abandoning her popcorn. Ava meets Bea’s eyes and smiles. Bea shakes her head fondly at Camila and Ava wonders when she’ll get the same look. Someday, she thinks. She looks back at Camila, leaning forward in her seat on the bean bag chair she wrestled through their front door earlier. “He’s the cute one, I think. The other one kind of freaked me out. I don’t think he ever blinked.”

Their front door. Ava’s heart beats a little harder.

Ava could go into detail about Twilight - it was basically contraband at the orphanage. But they’re in the middle of a movie. And she thinks Lilith might actually throw a soda at her. She doesn’t think Bea would appreciate the mess. So that’s a Camila-and-Ava conversation for later.

“Yikes. Ice baths.” Shannon shudders. “I used to do those in high school, during the season. Need a wake up call? Submerge yourself in a metal tub of ice cubes.” She points her entire soda towards the screen. “Though, I never looked like that doing it.”

Mary snakes her arm across the back of Shannon’s shoulder. “No, you didn’t.”

Ava slaps her hand over her mouth to keep in her laugh but Shannon rolls her eyes and elbows Mary gently. “You’re right. I looked better.”

“Damn right you did.” Mary meets Ava’s eye and smirks. It feels like a secret between them. That swelling feeling in her chest reaches a crescendo.

She shoves another handful of popcorn into her mouth and spares a glance at Bea, finding that Bea is already looking back at her. She inhales, nearly choking on a kernel. Bea sits forward, worry on her face, but Ava holds up a hand, stopping her. She swallows a few times, washes down what she can with her soda, and takes a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” Ava whispers, aware that she can be too loud sometimes. 

Bea has to lean closer to hear her. “It’s entertaining.”

Ava’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t know what that word means to Bea yet. Sometimes entertaining means not good, and sometimes it means the best thing I’ve watched in my whole life. She’s still learning to read her.

“Good,” Bea fills in. Ava exhales in relief. “Gymnastics takes a considerable amount of skill.”

“You could do it,” Ava says confidently. She nods when Bea goes to argue with her. “I saw you rock climbing. And all the martial arts you talk about? I bet you could beat Nastia Liukin.”

Bea’s cheeks might redden but Ava can’t tell in the dim light. “Actual Olympic gold medalist Nastia Liukin? I doubt that.”

Ava shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to call her and find out. But my money's on you.”

Lilith shushes them, glaring. Ava puts one hand up in surrender and grins at Bea when Lilith turns back to the movie. She pushes the popcorn back to Bea and waits expectantly. Bea is much more graceful than Ava, picking out a few pieces delicately. Ava doesn’t offer the same grace; she shoves her hand in and grabs as much as she can. 

“Wait, her mom cheated on her dad with her coach?” Lilith doesn’t pull her eyes away from the screen, but scoffs. “Pathetic.”

Camila claps when it ends, grinning. Ava matches her smile, looking around excitedly. 

She pats herself on the shoulder mentally, though her hand itches to do it physically. She made a good choice, a strong start. She stands up, twists her back side to side so she can stretch it out, and grins. “Who wants more popcorn?”

~

She waits until a quiet moment, after everyone has been settled into movie and Bea has finished what Ava is sure to be the first of many comments on the historical validity of The Mummy before she says:

“This movie was my bisexual awakening.”

There’s a cough and sputter from her left where Beatrice is sitting. She thinks about reaching out and giving her a friendly whack on the back, to clear out whatever has gotten stuck in her windpipe, but Mary laughs so loudly, Ava just ends up grinning instead.

Lilith eyes her critically. “Brendan Fraser isn’t the worst you could do, I suppose.”

It’s a glowing compliment coming from Lilith. Ava files it away for the next time she inevitably says something that isn’t.

Camila leans her head back, staring at Ava upside down. “Rachel Weisz is my ‘if I had to pick a girl’.”

“Fraser is not the guy I’d pick,” Mary says firmly. “I’m more of an Usher kind of girl.”

Shannon shrugs. “I think I’d take Mummy-Fraser over Tarzan-Fraser. The long hair is… Eh.”

The TV flickers, brightening the room as Rick O’Connell crosses the screen with a torch in his hand. Ava turns expectantly to Bea. “What about you?”

“What about-” Bea’s voice is slightly squeaky, if Ava had to put a word to it. Almost as if she doesn’t know where to break the syllables. “This movie was not my bisexual awakening,” she finally says.

“Well, of course not.” Ava reaches over and does touch Bea this time, patting her knee gently. “I assume you’d be too focused on the truth of all this history stuff to even focus on either of them.” She smiles warmly. “Am I right?”

Everyone seems to be looking at the two of them. Ava feels the room tip a little. She’s suddenly worried she said the wrong thing. She just thought, with Mary and Shannon clearly dating, that it’d be okay to say something like that. They seem to be open enough, not shying away from each other. But maybe she shouldn’t have. Or maybe it’s the movie choice. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Antonio Banderas also had something good going on.

Bea stares and Ava starts to count the seconds as they stretch.

“I’m not—” Bea begins haltingly, then stops. 

A tendril of panic curls around Ava’s chest. She just assumed. Sure, Bea never explicitly said she liked girls, but Ava isn’t usually wrong about this kind of stuff. Maybe she did get it wrong. Or maybe she just said it too loud. She has a tendency to barrel head first into things without thinking.

Bea clears her throat. “I suppose…” Her eyes dart over Ava’s shoulder to where Mary and Shannon are. Ava looks, smiling a little, still confused. “I suppose… Rachel Weisz is someone a person might find appealing.”

“Attractive,” Ava corrects, slightly relieved that she didn’t read Bea incorrectly. “And good choice.” She nods in total agreement. Bea’s taste is up there. 

She shoves her hand into the candy bowl that’s replaced the popcorn. M&Ms in this bowl, but Bea has Junior Mints. She looks up, mouth full, and finds Bea still staring back at her. An M&M falls out of her mouth and lands in her hand. She feels her face flush and she quickly tosses it back in.

Lilith’s face is twisted in disgust. There goes that good favor. But Mary and Shannon are looking at her too, and Ava gets a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” she says slowly. “I think I said something wrong.” Even though she has no clue what that might be. Her worry that she’s made Bea uncomfortable by talking about her sexuality rises again in her head. 

There’s quiet for a moment before Bea says, “No.” She reaches forward like she’s trying to get Ava to understand something but her hand hovers over Ava’s, the one with a small chocolate smudge on it, and she pulls it back into her own lap. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind…” Ava blinks, looks back again. Mary is staring at her and there’s a slight edge she hasn’t seen before. “That you like Rachel Weisz?” No one says yes or no and she’s still so confused. “I totally don’t mind, if that’s what you think. Like I said.” She points both of her thumbs back at herself and tries to smile in a way she knows is charming. “Awakening.”

Bea’s face is pinched, though. Ava has the strongest urge to press her hands to it and smooth it out. Mary clears her throat and Bea’s face does it all on its own.

“I mean, I’d still be okay with it if you liked Patricia Velasquez better,” Ava admits. “The gold costume was…” She whistles low and reaches out a hand, nudging Bea in the shoulder. Bea sways away and back in again stiffly, but she seems to be breathing out.

Ava exhales. She looks back over her shoulder and Mary is still looking at her but she’s smiling too, nodding once at her. Whatever test that was, she knows she passed it. And honestly, Bea can’t go wrong with either choice. And if she is into someone like Patricia Velasquez, Ava knows a girl in her Humanities class who can pull off that same kind of eyeliner.

She offers Bea the bowl of M&Ms silently, gesturing for the Junior Mints. Bea hands it over slowly, her eyes still searching Ava’s face. She hopes Bea finds whatever she’s looking for. Because she wants to show Bea that she’s someone to trust, that Bea made a good decision, and that moving in was something that was going to be great. 

She smiles encouragingly and Bea smiles back, ducking her head slightly. Ava turns back to the TV screen, silently passing Camila the bowl of Junior Mints in return for the Skittles. 

“Actually,” Bea says quietly, almost as if she’s only talking to Ava. “Did you know that Medjay, the Pharoh’s bodyguards in the movie, actually refers to people from the land of Medja. It was believed to be located in Nubia, near the Second Nile Cataract.”

Ava abandons the screen, turning to Bea now. “How do you know this stuff?”

Bea shrugs a shoulder. “I like knowing things.”

“We’re finding a trivia night and going out,” Ava decides. Lilith shushes her and she ignores it. “The brains between you, Shannon, and Camila, plus my good looks, Mary’s brawn, and the whole… scary thing Lilith has going on, we’ll clean up.”

Bea smiles fully this time. A pillow hits Ava in the side of the head but it doesn’t stop her from smiling back at Bea before snatching the pillow off the floor and holding onto it until Lilith wrestles it out of her hands ten minutes later.

~

They’ve moved onto pizza by the time Atlantis queues up on the TV. Six different boxes sit open on the breakfast bar, greasy plates on the floor and coffee table. Ava rests a hand on her stomach, her whole body stretched out and her socked feet dangerously close to a mushroom sliding around in a puddle of grease. She peers down. Bea’s plate is full of mushrooms, picked out from the other toppings.

Huh. No mushrooms. Maybe Bea does have a flaw.

“I dated a guy who looked like Milo once,” Camila offers. “Soft spoken, too.” She squints, looking into the middle distance. “I think his name was Ted.”

“Ted.” Mary wrinkles her nose. “There was a Ted in my Women’s Safety class freshman year. Thought it was an easy A and he’d get to feel up a few girls.” She scoffs. “He sure felt my fist in his stomach.”

Ava lifts an arm in solidarity, her whole body weighed down with hot dough and spicy tomato sauce. “I beat up someone once. When I was 6. He broke my ant farm.” She gets a sudden burst of energy as damp anger flows through her. She sits up. “I was the one who got in trouble though, the little jerk.”

Lilith pushes a piece of half-eaten veggie pizza towards Ava. Ava’s stomach protests, but the mushrooms are just that good, so she takes it and polishes off the rest of it. Lilith is warming up to her and Ava revels in it. It’s all part of her master plan to win Lilith over, one small step at a time.

With the understanding, of course, that she’s going to go backwards more than she goes forward. But she can tell how much Lilith means to Beatrice and she can play the long game. It’ll be a good exercise in patience.

“What about you, Beatrice? Beat a lot of people up? I know you can, like, kill a man with your bare hands.”

Lilith snorts. “Beatrice would never.”

Ava grins. “So you would?”

“No,” Bea says loudly over Lilith opening her mouth. “Our training is for self-defense. I have never found any reason to escalate a fight outside of tournaments and educational exercises.” She sees Ava’s eyes tracking the table and nudges the plate of mushroom slices towards her. She thinks she sees Bea’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Okay, but, if someone like Helga Sinclair - a total babe, by the way - came charging at you, you wouldn’t fight her?” Ava points at the screen where Helga is lifting boxes up, just to show off her muscles. Her mind gets stuck for a minute. They’re impressive arms. But then, Bea’s arms kind of look the same, now that she thinks about it. Helga has more of a Lilith-attitude, though.

Bea blinks. “She’s a cartoon character.”

“But if she was real,” Ava stresses. “Are you just too proud to tell me you’d wipe the floor with her pretty, 2-dimensional face?” She looks at Shannon. “Is she always this modest?”

Shannon snorts softly. “Yeah, Beatrice never really sells herself well.”

“We’re going to fix that,” Ava decides. Bea opens her mouth but Ava shakes her head. “It’s decided. Operation Beatrice is a Badass henceforth commences tonight, on this Saturday, in Apartment 3B. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Order.”

Bea’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “That’s not at all how that goes.”

“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Lilith mutters.

“It was kind of sweet,” Camila says kindly. “I think Beatrice needs a personal cheerleader.”

“Seems like Ava is up for the job,” Mary says. Her eyes are on Beatrice, a small smirk on her face. “I say go for it.”

Ava beams. “That’s four votes yes.”

Shannon hums. “I didn’t vote.”

“My vote counts twice,” Ava says without even looking at her. She goes to say something else, but Atlantis comes into view and she forgets what she was going to say, staring in wonder as Milo sees the lost city for the first time.

She watched this movie a lot when she was in the orphanage. Sister Frances was fond of donations and didn’t usually splurge on new things; a handful of DVDs, including Atlantis, were the last thing that showed up that wasn’t already in pieces by the time it got to them. Osmosis Jones was the other one, but one of the older boys broke it when he thought Osmosis Jones was living inside his body. 

Atlantis always caught her attention, though. The idea that there was a secret world out there where anything was possible? It was all she dreamed about as a kid, confined to a bed and locked away under Sister Frances’ crow-like eyes. She imagined she was Milo, on the hunt for the one thing that would make her life make sense. Sure, she never found her Atlantis, but Milo did. And she could live through that.

Her eyes stray to Bea. She’s caught herself doing that all night - constantly tuned into Bea, wondering what she’s thinking or if she likes Ava’s choices or if she’s regretting agreeing to this new living situation. She thinks everyone is warming up to her and it makes her grin. Friends. Friends she can hang out with and do movie nights and trivia nights and lunch dates like the one she has scheduled with Camila on Monday between her morning and afternoon classes.

And all thanks to the person who is quickly becoming her favorite person. Bea is her Princess Kira, showing her a whole new world. She frowns. Wrong movie. But then she shrugs; the point still stands.

“Well, you eat enough for two people,” Mary says, pulling Ava’s attention back in. She sounds impressed, though. “I’ve never seen anyone put away what you have in the last few hours.”

Ava grins and pats her stomach. “There’s still room in this ol’ thing. Just you wait.”

Mary shakes her head, a smile on her face. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you say.”

A rush of affection swells in her chest. No one has ever called her ‘baby girl’ before. Or said it with a smile like Mary’s, like it’s some secret between the two of them. She holds onto it. She wants to wear it again. She wonders what Bea will call her, what her nickname will be. 

“None of you seem to understand what a movie night is, do you?” Lilith cuts in. She has her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. “It means watching a movie, not talking through it.”

“I didn’t realize you liked this movie so much,” Mary says lightly. “If we knew it was your favorite-”

“Not my favorite,” Lilith sniffs.

“-we would have quieted down,” she finishes. “You heard her, ladies, no talking through Lilith’s favorite movie.”

Mary, unlike Ava, catches the pillow Lilith throws and chucks it right back, hitting her right in the face. Ava gasps but the sound is swallowed up by the growl of disbelief from Lilith, the weary groan from Beatrice, Shannon tutting, and Camila clapping her hands together lightly.

It takes considerable effort, and they have to rewind twice, missing the mark both times and just giving up, but now Ava can put an X across the “bloodshed” square on her “how to be friends with girls” bingo card.

Lilith pouts for the next twenty minutes, Mary gloats, and Ava eats two more pieces of pizza, chewing happily.

~

“You’ll like this one,” Ava promises Bea as she loads the DVD unseen into the player. “It’s Shakespeare.”

A soccer ball bounces across the screen and the look of confusion on Bea’s face deepens. Ava holds out a hand, anticipating a question.

“Just wait, okay? This is pop culture history.” 

Bea looks skeptical. “It really is,” Ava insists. “It takes Shakespeare and modernizes it. Think 10 Things I Hate About You. Think Romeo + Juliet. This is a cinematic marvel.”

“Sit down,” Shannon says without any bite. “We’ve liked the other ones so far.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lilith mutters. She scowls, but closes her mouth when Camila looks at her. 

Ava doesn’t let it bother her. She swears she saw Lilith crying at the end of Atlantis. But Shannon’s words give her enough courage to take her seat again and watch Bea’s face, eager to see her reaction. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“I love this movie!”

“Not this one.”

Ava looks between Shannon and Mary. They look at each other.

Shannon blinks first. “You don’t like this movie?”

“I want to strangle her boyfriend every time he’s on screen.” Mary scowls, like she’s imagining his throat under her hand. “And Channing Tatum is just…”

“He’s a baby in this movie.”

“He’s not a good actor in this movie.”

Camila raises her hand weakly. “I like him in Magic Mike.” She balks at everyone’s sudden frown. Ava shakes her head. “My freshman year roommate was, like, obsessed with him. Actually, I think her mom was. And it just sort of… trickled down.”

Ava reaches out and pats her head gently. “I’m so sorry. That sounds terrible.”

Camila shrugs. “We traded off. Horror movies for me-”

“Horibble movies for her,” Mary finishes.

Shannon shrugs. “Well, I like this movie. Though, Olivia and Viola should have ended up together.”

That, Ava can get behind. She nods furiously. “Best chemistry, definitely.” She reaches for her bowl of ice cream - she has a scoop of every flavor they got at the grocery store. She digs into it, lifting her spoon to her mouth before she pauses, speaking first. “Do you think Amanda Bynes really knows how to play soccer?”

“No,” echoes around her.

She shrugs. “Didn’t think so.”

They turn their attention back to the movie, ignoring the comments Lilith makes critiquing Sebastian’s girlfriend and Marcus the creep and the principal - who she says reminds her of her tutor. The one you made cry? Bea asks. Lilith grins with all her teeth. 

Ava soaks it in like the sun on a beach. She catalogues the way Bea laughs at the pizza shop scene, the way she repeats the ug-lay as if it’s some foreign word she’s learning for the first time. She wonders if she’ll ever hear Bea say it out loud. Maybe she’ll wear something really loud - a word she picked up from Chanel - and see what the reaction is. She watches the way Mary and Shannon whisper to each other, soft murmurs over Olivia and Viola-Sebasatian arguing about cutting open a frog. Even Lilith makes a noise that sounds like a short laugh when Duke shoves a tampon up his nose. Camila mouths the words along with the characters, body jerking a little as if she’s the one playing soccer on the screen.

If 12-year-old Ava could see her now. If 17-year-old Ava could see her now. She wouldn’t believe it. She’d think her whole world extended only as far as the four walls of that orphanage. But it doesn’t. It’s bigger and brighter and filled with the coolest people she’s ever met.

Amanda Bynes flashes the soccer team and Ava laughs and laughs until Bea is smiling and shaking her head - that look, the one Ava saw Bea give Camila, that slight hint of fondness, is aimed directly at her.

The Illyria soccer team wins against Cornwall and Ava feels like she’s won something too.

~

She barely hears the door click shut as Lilith closes it behind her, the last one to leave. 

Ava had watched Camila wrestle her bean bag back out into the hallway, smiling too brightly for someone still up at two-thirty in the morning before she slumped back down on the couch, her energy spent. Mary patted the top of her head with a heavy hand, smoothing it out with a smile, and Shannon had squeezed her shoulder gently in a goodbye before they followed Camila. Lilith had stayed, helping to pick up a few things and talking quietly with Bea. Quiet enough that Ava couldn’t hear it - and too tired to tune into.

The popcorn and the candy and the pizza and the ice cream were catching up to her, making her a little nauseous and a lot full. She slumped down further on the couch and watched Lilith move through the apartment like she knew all its corners. She couldn’t wait until she could do the same.

Bea closes the refrigerator now and turns to Ava, smiling. “Did you have fun?”

“Best night ever.” It’s not a lie. This has kicked ‘First Night out with Chanel’ off the top of her list without a care in the world. “Did you?”

“I had a very nice time. We haven’t done that in a long time.” Bea drifts closer. She sits on the edge of the couch, hovering a little above the cushion.

“Monthly movie nights, then.” A thought crosses her mind and she pouts. “Hey, we forgot National Treasure.”

Bea laughs breathlessly. “I think four movies in one night is more than enough, Ava. There will be more nights for movies.  We can watch it another time.” 

Ava nods decisively. “Monthly movie nights. We have all the time in the world.” 

“We do,” Bea says, and it feels a little bit like they’ll have this forever.

Ava reaches behind her, groping at the back of the couch until she finds the corner of the blanket she’s searching for. She pulls it down over her head.

She thinks she hears Bea laugh, soft and melodic. But she could be imagining it, a holdover from her being hyper-aware of each time she did during movie night. She curls into it and smiles into the arm of the couch. She doesn’t know how she started sliding down, but it’s comfortable here.

“Ava,” Beatrice says gently. “You have a bed.”

Ava pulls the blanket off her head and throws it onto her legs. She squirms, trying to get it to settle over her body. “But this is so comfortable. Where did you find this couch?”

“Shannon picked it out. I’ll ask her the next time I talk to her.”

“I’ve always wanted a couch like this,” she admits. “Big, comfy. Just for us.” Her eyes flutter closed and the room goes hazy before her vision goes dark. “I’m going to sleep here.” She wiggles again. The blanket tangles around her waist. 

Bea is quiet for a moment. “Come on. I have something for you.”

Her eyes open quickly, rolling off the couch and onto her feet. “What is it?”

Bea looks nervous but crosses the room to her bedroom, slipping in through the closed door. Ava hears some things moving and then Bea is in the living room again, hands clasped behind her back. She’s holding something.

“It’s- Now that I have it, I’m not sure it-” Bea takes a deep breath and smiles tightly. “I got you something. A sort of housewarming present.”

Ava grins. “I love presents. What is it?”

There’s still an undercurrent of nervousness in the way Bea uncharacteristically shifts. “Hold out your hands. And close your eyes.”

Ava immediately slams her eyes closed and thrusts her hands out. The air feels still but not uncomfortable. Silences with Bea don’t feel weird, which is crazy. So she doesn’t mind the wait as Bea obviously works up the courage to put something in her hands. After a long moment, she feels something soft and nearly weightless drop into her cupped palms.

Bea clears her throat. “You can open your eyes.”

Ava does. She blinks. A long, thin, soft stuffed animal with a white belly and tiger stripes stares back at her. She’s confused for a moment before the pieces slot into her place in her mind. “Is this… Is this Hobbes? From Calvin and Hobbes?

Bea’s cheeks are just the slightest hint of pink. She clears her throat again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.”

“It’s really not,” Ava rushes out. Her heart is too big in her chest. Her eyes start to burn a little, hot beads forming in the corners. “How did you-”

“The internet is more than just Wikipedia and Reddit.” Bea’s hands are tucked back behind her again. “But after our conversation…”

Their conversation. 

The one where Ava told Bea everything: her accident and the grueling years of work, the orphanage, years spent in the libraries reading everything she could get her hands on. She told her about the Peanuts comics she liked and how one of the older kids had called her Linus because she carried around a blue blanket for a few years. She told Bea about the hours she would spend reading the Calvin and Hobbes comic collections and pretending she could join them on their adventures: riding in a wagon, bubble bath statues, exploring the forest, sledding, waiting for the school bus.

She told Bea she always wanted a Hobbes stuffed animal to take with her on her own adventures, just as soon as she could go and have them. She’d never admitted that to anyone else, not even Diego, the little boy she shared a room with. But something about Bea made it easy to talk about these kinds of things, Maybe it was the way she listened. She didn’t judge, she didn’t laugh.

Ava knows that’s going to be a problem. She’s going to end up telling Bea everything all the time.

And when Bea is ready to talk more about herself, about what her parents were like and how they were never around, Ava is going to be ready to listen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

Bea’s voice is just as quiet. “I wanted to. You deserve to go on adventures.”

She breathes in slowly. “Today was an adventure. The best kind. And I know there’s going to be a million more.” She hugs Hobbes to her chest. “Because now I have someone. Two someones.” She smiles softly at Bea. “Hobbes. And you.”

Bea’s cheeks pinken just a hint more. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but closes it again. Ava doesn’t want to say anything either, afraid to break this precarious moment. So she just looks at Hobbes, her Hobbes, and feels her chest swell with affection for this new friend she’s found.

‘Thank you,” she whispers. Bea doesn’t whisper back, but Ava doesn't think she needs to. She places Hobbes carefully on the couch. She strokes down his soft belly, fingers lingering before she turns to Bea. “I’m going to hug you. Brace yourself.”

She sees Bea physically prepare for it, watches the muscles under her thin cotton shirt tense. And she laughs, inwardly, that Bea seems to ready herself, as if Ava is going to knock her down. But she doesn’t blame her. Ava crashes into her, arms tight around her middle, trapping Bea’s arms against her sides. She feels Bea struggle for a moment before she frees her arms. Hands hover above her back before Bea pats her gently. Ava grins into the soft skin of Bea's arm.

“I think we’re going to be best friends,” she says quietly in the space between them.

She doesn’t break away from the hug until her arms start to ache. Then she steps back, giving Bea a hesitant smile before she ducks around her, headed to her new bedroom with Hobbies in her hands. With a soft goodnight, she lets Bea have a moment to herself. She seems like the type of person who needs to recover from a hug, but Ava will take care of that.

She’s a very good hugger. And they have time.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #forever roommates #this was supposed to be a movie night FICLET #okay listen #this got SO FAR out of hand i cannot even begin to tell you what happened #everyone say thank you kay thank you kay #because she pushed for this and now you get to read if you'd like to #and she spent her time looking it over so she deserves extra thanks #also shout out to dren who opened a floodgate that i didn't realize needed to be let loose #is there a word limit to posts? #apparently not #for those counting along at home it's 6k #i can rest now

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

#Stranger Things #Stranger things fic #Steve Harrington #Steddie #Eddie Munson #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet

[wileys-russo]

small intimate interactions - ficlet?🥺

small intimate interactions ficlet

"lee! get off." you whined as the blonde collapsed herself into you, long limbs wrapping around your waist trapping you in her arms. "no you're comfy." the english girl mumbled into your shirt as you tried to yank her hands off.

"i need to go and shower you leech!" you laughed as leah leaned more of her bodyweight onto you, the two of you sat side by side by your cubby in the change rooms after training. "yeah you do actually, you smell terrible." leah agreed scrunching up her nose but still made no move to get off of you as you scoffed.

"god i feel sorry for your future wife having to put up with you, i'll be sure to give her a medal." you rolled your eyes as the skipper grinned, kissing your cheek with a loud mwah and letting go of you.

"leah!" you shot her a glare as she whipped you with her towel once you'd stood and started to walk back to the showers. "wasn't me!" the blonde shrugged tossing her towel back into her cubby. "oh yes i suppose it was casper the friendly footballer ghost was it?" your voice dripped with sarcasm.

"must have been. i'll chat to the staff, get them to give the place a good cleansing! cheeky little thing he is." leah tutted swatting at the air as if to ward off bad spirits as you couldn't help but smile.

"you are such a child." you stripped off your jersey and tossed it so it landed on her head, the blonde peeling it off and staring after you with a grin.

"please let me meddle. they are disgustingly oblivious about how much they're in love, its been years now its killing me!" beth begged lia from the other side of the room who shook her head.

"no! they will figure it out on their own whenever they are ready." the swiss warned sternly, beths puppy dog eyes doing nothing as the blonde scowled and let out a huff.

"nah im backin beth here. they just need a good kick up the arse to realise!" katie wandered over as beth gave lia a pleading look who once more shook her head. "viv, help me out?" she looked to the dutchie who backed up her point making beth groan again.

"look! case in point leahs been ready to leave for ages, but she's clearly just waiting around for her even though they drove separately. they're probably off for one of their little movie night sleepovers none of us are ever invited to." beth rolled her eyes.

"probably. but thats their choice, you don't get to meddle and mess about and stick your noses into their personal relationship whatever it may be. let nature run its course!" lia warned sternly again before bidding all three girls goodbye, wandering over to hug leah goodbye.

"you're not leaving yet?" lia questioned as they broke apart, the blonde bouncing her knee as she twirled her keys around on her finger. "nah, movie night. gotta give that one a proper education on the historical importance of prime english cinema!" leah yelled the last few words in your direction as you appeared now showered and changed, flipping her off.

lia leaving you waved her off and grabbed your things, kicking away leah who poked and prodded at you impatiently whining that she was hungry and you needed to hurry up.

eventually the two of you exited the change rooms without even sparing anyone else a glance, leahs arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you started to argue what movie you were going to watch first.

"see? hopeless." "love really is blind!"

~

"what are those for!" leah asked wide eyed as you grabbed out a bag of asian greens from the freezer and rolled your eyes. "my dinner, you've got nuggets and roasties in the oven don't worry." you cooed mockingly, squeezing her cheeks between your fingers.

"thank god for that! here i was thinking you were tryin to poison me woman." leah breathed a sigh of relief, scowling as you teased the way her 'th' sounded like 'f'. "i told you to stop that its bullying!" leah huffed throwing a packet of crisps in your direction which you ducked.

"hey! no throwing my groceries williamson or you can start paying for them." you warned her as leah ooohed with a grin. "i'm so scared." leah drawled as you held up the spatula in your hand menacingly.

"better be, i'd kick your ass." "i think we've proven time and time again shorty that it is indeed me who is the kicker of ass between us." "thats because you cheat every single time we fight!" "no i do not i just utilise the element of surprise and the fact you are about half the size of a regular human being."

"oo its your mum!" leah perked up as your phone rang with an incoming facetime call, leah clicking accept and propping it up against a vase of flowers before you could even say a word.

"hello terri!" leah greeted happily with a smile as your mother eagerly greeted her back, the two having met a few times and talking often as leah and you were almost always in one anothers company.

"mum its like...nine in the morning in mebourne, what do you want?" you chuckled as leah wandered over, propping the phone up by the stove and standing beside you as you cooked.

"thats no way to speak to your mother! maybe she just misses her daughter who lives on the other side of the world now." leah pinched you making you squeal and punch her in the shoulder.

"see! leah gets it chicken." your mum laughed at your dynamic as leahs taller body leaned into yours, hugging you from behind. "yeah chicken." leah teased the nickname making you roll your eyes and threaten to throw out her dinner as she fell silent.

the three of you caught up as you cooked, leah remaining stuck to you throughout which wasn't anything new, the two of you always having had a very affectionate friendship.

in fact you'd always been quite a touchy person by nature so to you it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

but when leah excused herself to use the bathroom and you'd pulled out her dinner and started to dish up, your mum flagged it. "you two are awfully cuddly tonight." the older woman spoke with a look you knew too well making you sigh.

"just friends with healthy habits of affection mum, you can stop now." you warned, your mum forever having had the habit of assuming any new person in your life you were secretly dating, despite your assurance that if you were dating someone she would not be meeting them until you were ready and as your partner, not a friend.

"okay im just saying it like i see it! shes a lovely girl, and you two seem very close." "we are mum, very close friends."

~

"yeah you should come visit next summer! i'll even teach you how to surf." you grinned to jacob whose face lit up, sat around the table with leah, her mum and brother for dinner a couple of days later.

noticing how homesick you were your first few weeks in england leah had quickly welcomed you into her own family in an attempt to mend that hole. taking you to weekly dinners or game nights much as you'd allow her to drag you along, her family nothing but kind to you the entire time you'd known them.

"wouldn't you need to know how to surf first?" leah questioned as you smacked her arm playfully. "least i don't look like i don't know how to swim." you teased, her grin dropping at the comment.

based around a tiktok trend kyra had made the statement the other day that leah looked like she used floaties when she swam, causing a cut that was very deep to the defenders pride.

"i can swim! you've seen me do it!" leahs fist banged down onto the table as you threw your head back laughing at how quickly she bit, jacob joining in as leah shot him a glare and stomped on his foot from across the table.

"alright alright! enough, leah you're on drying duty come on." amanda chuckled but broke up the bickering as leah looked ready to lunge at either one of you.

"what! i am a guest here, jacob can do it." leah protested but with a firm look from her mum got up from the table with a sigh, making a point to tug at your ear and smack the back of jacobs head before following after amanda into the kitchen.

"stop that mopey look if the wind changes you'll be stuck with it forever." her mum smiled in amusement handing leah another plate to dry, the english womans face turned downward into a sour frown as she heard you and jacobs laughter echo through from the living room.

"you know if i had to paint a picture of my ideal daughter in law she'd be the perfect muse." amanda started with a nod toward you in the other room, causing leahs head to whip up so fast it would have spun off if not connected to her neck.

"mum!" "what? she's a beautiful girl and an even more gorgeous person on the inside, surely you of all people can see that?" "well obviously but we're just friends. people can be friends and not in love with one another now mum its the twenty first century!" leahs voice dripped with sarcasm but her mum didn't miss the defensive edge to it either.

"whatever you say love. all im saying is you like to bang on and on about getting older and not wanting to miss out on the more domestic goals of life-" her mum held up a soapy hand to cut leah off as she tried to interrupt.

"-and here you are with the solution potentially right under your nose. you might not see it but the way you look at her...don't let a good thing pass you by baby girl." her mum warned and suddenly changed topics, leah frowning but not bothering to backtrack on the conversation.

the two of you were just friends, right?

#woso x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso community #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson x reader

[nonstoplover]

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon &lt;3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #cl16 #cl16 fic #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc f1 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 drabble #f1 fluff #f1 drivers #f1 fiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x you

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺

I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹

Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet

I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.

So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .

What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Fluffy af

That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.

-

As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.

An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.

‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?

Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.

“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.

A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.

“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.

“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.

You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.

“So what we watching?”

-----

“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.

“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.

“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”

“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.

“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”

“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.

“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.

The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.

You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.

‘What did you do wrong?’

‘Was he mad at you?’

‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’

You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.

Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.

“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.

“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.

You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.

“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.

‘Shit was I wrong?’

You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.

You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.

You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.

“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”

You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”

You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”

--------

I hope this is what you wanted.

My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests

#jamie writes #callmerainman #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic

[starpirateee]

could you write a fic where curt gets captured and owen goes absolutely feral trying to get him back? i need angst :D

I will absolutely write that, I think both of us need Owen to go a little apeshit for a while 👀 remember the movie Taken? "I will hunt you down. And I will kill you." ?? Yeah...

Oh yeah, and I 100% used the same case that was referenced in the panic attack prompt because I fell short of ideas, so essentially I'm creating one large cinematic universe worth of ficlets (/j) and this is set about five months before that panic attack

Cynthia Houston called. Cynthia Houston— head supervisor of the American Secret Service— had personally called Owen Carvour— very much not American operative of the British Military Intelligence— with three words on her mind that changed the state of his mental state immediately.

Curt's been compromised.

That was all she'd said before Owen's heart started pounding in his ears.

"What do you mean, he's compromised?" Owen had asked, but he knew. There were a limited number of ways that this could go. One of them compromised him too, and forced his hand. He wasn't so afraid of that option anymore. He'd spent that long preparing for it that he knew the exact reaction to it, and exactly what he was supposed to do.

The other one was dangerous, and meant that Curt's life was in jeopardy. That wouldn't be a matter of concern for another agency under any other circumstance, but Cynthia was able to pull strings, to get him involved in matters that he had no right to even know about. If she wanted him for a particular mission, then there was a very good chance that he was going to be on that mission.

He braced himself subtly, waiting for Cynthia to tell him to start making preparations to run for a long time, or for her to tell him where she needed him in the next few hours.

"Captured. For once, he didn't expose himself, but all the same, he got caught… I think you might be familiar with the case load?"

Owen's jaw clenched tight. Part of him was relieved, but this was the dangerous option, and that meant he didn't have the space to be relieved. "Tell me."

"There's a group of arms dealers led by a man they call Jenner, you know him?"

"Yes. Yes, I know of him and his little organisation. Do you have anything on where he's based?" He knew that Cynthia had more sense than to tell him information like that over a telephone line, but he also knew that he didn't care when he got the information, so long as he got it. It was more than clear that she wanted him on the ground to help them find him, or bring him back, so he knew he was going to get what he needed at some point. She'd likely pass him off to someone else with the intel, and he'd have to fill in the gaps from whichever debrief he was given.

"Always so efficient… you know I'm not gonna tell you that. Not here."

"I thought as much."

"But, make it to Manhattan, Agent, and there will be someone dockside to meet you… Say, tomorrow morning?"

Owen wrote that down on the notepad next to the phone. Tomorrow morning. January 7th. He was expected at the Manhattan harbour, presumably by someone who was supposed to blend in with the crowd. "Tomorrow morning. I'll be there."

Cynthia sighed, then. Owen had a one track mind, it was notoriously hard to pull from focus. Knowing him, he wouldn't stop until Curt was on safe ground once again, no matter how long he worked or what it took out of him. That likely included whatever journey was going to happen that night. He knew about the stakes now, there was truly going to be no stopping him. "Oh, and Owen?"

Owen stopped, briefly taken off guard by hearing Cynthia call him by anything other than a formal title. Of course, she knew his name, she just never used it. What was with the sudden drop in formality? Was this her way of going off the record? If it was, what the hell else should he be expecting out of this mission?

"… Yes?"

"We need you at your best. And I know you have a tendency to… Overthink. Take it as easy as you can tonight… We need you prepared for tomorrow… Curt has a habit of being fine. You know that as well as I do."

"Michael Jenner is a dangerous man, Miss Houston. There's no telling what he could do in an hour, let alone overnight!"

"I'm not telling you not to think about it, I'm just saying, we're gathering intel as we speak, so… Try not to do anything stupid before you get here."

"I understand…" He resigned, drawing in a breath. "Tomorrow, then."

Needless to say, with the stress of everything currently piled in his mind, and the long journey to New York, he didn't sleep all that well. Cynthia had said she wanted to see him at his best, but all things considered, she wasn't exactly going to get him at his worst... By the time he reached New York, he was tired, and he'd managed to think about the scenario enough to really piss himself off, so Cynthia's informant found him in a state so far beyond riled that he was almost serene, and wired on the first cup of coffee he could get his hands on.

"So, you're Agent Owen Carvour... I've heard a lot about you."

"Is that so?" Owen raised an eyebrow, finishing off his coffee. That was strong enough to get him by, he supposed he'd be a little more in control of himself now that he felt less like his mind was trying to betray him for being too slow. If Curt turns up dead, this is on you. The Americans made sure the blood was on your hands, no getting out of it now.

"Mhm. Word is that you're quite the operative... If what they're saying is right, then I dare say I should be impressed."

Owen just hummed in response, having only caught about half of what had just been said on the grounds that he simply could not focus on anything that wasn't the outcome of this mission, or the the crushing weight on the inside of his chest that demanded he get on with it. He was both eager to get to the point, and eager not to find out what the Americans were saying about him. Thanks to Curt, most of it was probably complimentary, but either way, he didn't want to take his chances. "You know why I'm here, don't you?"

"Sure, you're here to help us with Mega... Cynthia tells me you already know the guy at fault?" The informant watched Owen nod, then produce a well broken in notebook from his pocket and lean back against the harbour wall. They'd told him to expect a man who was spectacularly prepared for any eventuality, and judging by the notes written on the page he could see, Owen fit that description down to the letter.

"Jenner, yes. I've been on a case of his before. I didn't fully intend on making him my business again, but what can you do?" To tell the truth, Owen was nervous, but desperate not to let it show. The longer he stayed here, the less time he had before things reached a critical point with Curt. But, the last thing he was going to admit was that he was afraid of the outcome of the mission. He was a professional, and professionals didn't so much as think of the word fear, least of all not on the job.

"He's gotten himself a full team, by the sounds of things. Mega reported at least half a dozen bruisers. Real heavyweights, not to mention the number of specialists he's likely got under his belt."

"Specialists as in..?"

"Arms, explosives... You name it, really."

That seemed to ring some bells. Owen could recall Jenner being the mastermind behind some millions of dollars in transactions involving something of that caliber. And since then, he had grown something of a small empire, which seemed to only be growing by the second. "Where are the likes of him based without anyone noticing the massive transactions passing from hand to hand?"

"That's the thing, isn't it, Agent? Not to be based in one place..."

"In an arms race of this size, it's only logical..." Owen answered automatically, tapping his pen against the notebook spirals. This state of serenity beyond the rage was starting to beome dangerous in itself. He felt like a badly fused explosive, programmed to explode at an entirely random interval between now and the foreseeable.

"Alright then, I'll specify. Where was Curt? And where is he now?"

"Mega's assignment was in Stamford, Conneticut. We don't have any reason to believe he's anywhere different now..."

Owen nodded, making a note of that, and reminding himself that Manhattan was suddenly a very convenient place because Conneticut wasn't actually that far away. He hadn't been told of anyone who was going to be joining him, and that led him to the all too fair assumption that Cynthia had sent him and him alone. Part of him wondered why; his business wasn't in American affairs. He was a British operative, and he'd turned down the offer of working for the American Secret Service before, on the grounds that it may well border on treasonous. He was still sure of that fact, knowing that he betrayed his country for the sake of taking up what may have frankly been a better and more convenient offer was not worth his life, that much he was sure of.

But, the other part of him realised that Cynthia probably had him on such a direct line of contact for a good reason, and it may not have had so much to do with the fact that he was talented enough to catch her eye. At the end of the day, she could near enough do whatever she wanted, and that may have included protecting the secrets of one of her best agents for the sake of not letting him go on a technicallity like that.

Did she know? He had to wonder… Did it make sense for her to know and to still trust the pair of them as much as she did? What they were doing could cost them way more than just their jobs if they were found out by the right people, and yet she seemed to be aware of their closeness. If she wasn't, he was convinced that he would've never known that Curt got captured, not unless he saw him in person and had to work through the mess inside his mind to get to what really happened.

No matter whether Cynthia knew and was actively protecting his secret by proxy of Curt, she had called him in for a job, and it was a job that he was going to do.

Just as he suspected, the journey to Conneticut didn't take him long. Manhattan was the most convenient location because apparently, there was a substation in the harbour that few people actually knew about, where a small team of field scientists were waiting to kit him with a communications wire and walk him through a map of the block they'd managed to narrow it down to. When Curt's signal was corrupted, they had no way of telling which way he went, but they were confident that, should he have stayed in the facility, that block would be within the margin of error.

One of the scientists had promised to keep him updated through the wire, to let him know when he was in range, and he in turn had promised to make this as swift a job as he could manage.

It was the least he could do. Especially since his nerves wouldn't leave him alone, and especially since he was practically being dragged towards saving Curt as fast as possible, on the grounds that he didn't know how his fragile, ticking bomb state of mind would react if he saw him even vaguely injured.

"I've reached the block, I believe. Just off Third, at the intersection." He looked around. There wasn't an awful lot going on that wasn't perfectly within the norm. for a while, he was going to be going about some kind of life too, looking like he didn't have the full intention to flip the kill switch.

"The crossroads?"

"I'm at a crossroads, yes."

"Which way are you facing?"

"I'm on the corner of Mayberry and Third, that's what's in front of me, at least…"

He could feel the fuse on the locked box of his half-suppressed rage fizzling to a dangerous point. He was getting closer, and that meant that he was getting closer to being able to take this storm of righteous anger out on whoever dared to get in the way. It wasn't called a license to kill for no reason, and it came equipped with all of the repercussions already taken care of. All that meant for him was that he could get away with giving Curt a little bit of justice. It would look like they got in the way of his mission, or that he was pursued… Depending on how well organised it was, and how he executed his arrival.

As the scientist started giving him directions, he took a breath. Not yet. Not yet… Prevalent justice would have to wait for a few minutes, until he was no longer public facing. There was a pistol in the inner pocket of his jacket, he could feel it against his side, with the spare clips sitting on the other side, the exact same reach away from his seemingly eager grasp.

That fuse blew when he was alone, when he was wandering the corridors of the facility, looking for anything that might class as a sign or some kind of pointer towards Curt. Instinct told him to get lower, to find sub-floors and basements that facilities like this wouldn't want exposing to the public eye. Upon descending the sirst flight of stairs, he heard a scream that was clearly a long time in the making. The way it echoed through the corridor made him stop in his tracks, and it was in that exact moment that the box blew open and everything exploded onto the outside.

Red tinged rage flooded his senses. He knew that tone well, though it wasn't so often that he heard him so distressed. Curt was good at keeping face under pressure or interrogation, it was one of the things he definitely gave himself credit for, and one of the things that he definitely deserved to do so for. Owen knew that he was more than capable of giving his adversaries as much shit as they gave to him, and also being so cosmically annoying that they have no choice but to make things harder for him…. It was really one of those situations that could go either way…

Curt— if he was right in trusting his instincts and believing that he'd found him— had broken. That meant that he was injured beyond comprehension, and part of that thought was what tipped him over to the side of unfiltered rage. After that, it was a flash of knowing what needed to be done, and knowing how to do it. His pace quickened, his breath sturdy, his mind focused… Owen was unshakable, and definitely no cause for competition. Those who were unfortunate enough to get in his way found themselves gravely injured at the hands of his aim, even those who thought themselves lucky enough to have escaped him by running down the corridor.

He stopped at nothing and nobody; there was not one obstacle that could get in the way of a man like him, on a mission like this.

It took an apparent maze of corridors before he managed to break open a door that led him directly to the one thing that made this whole thing worth it. Heaving a breath as he scanned the room, he finally— finally— laid eyes on the man who had been inadvertently guiding him towards his location the longer he was in pain.

Curt.

And he was a mess. Blood poured from his temple down the side of his face, and there was a sizeable gash running his shoulder and tearing the fabric of his shirt. He looked up when the door was thrown open, and his eyes went wide. He tried to fight showing how relieved he was, but it was hard to do that when his face was such an open book, when he was so relieved to see his partner.

Owen made a signal— a sign that all of this would be over in a matter of minutes— and levelled his pistol. One breath, and the man closest to Curt had fallen, a crimson river pouring from his forehead. Another, and the man advancing on him had fallen victim to a couple of sizeable holes to the chest in quick succession. A third, and Owen had stolen a knife from one of the fallen, and he was looking for the best angle to break Curt's ties so they could leave as fast as possible.

The knife didn't make easy work of the thick cord keeping Curt in place, but Owen found a good angle as he crouched closer to the ground, and managed to get Curt free before anyone else found out he was there.

His breath came out shallow, he was clawing at the last scraps of the rage, fighting not to let it subside into concern too early. But, on the other hand, the concern was justified too, because every time his gaze darted over Curt, he saw something else worth noting. Now was not the time to think about that, not until there was a solid guarantee that they could both get out of there safe, and there was a clear window for curt to get back to his agency.

"Can you stand?" He asked, as softly as he could manage it.

Curt nodded initially, but then realised how much he had been overestimating his own abilities, when he actually tried to stand and Owen had to rush to his side to stop him collapsing. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, Owen could see them from this close. It gave just enough of a spark to that slight of fury that he had left, just enough to seep in a deep desire to see this place— and by extension, Michael Jenner— crumble until there was nothing left of it.

"How'd you… How'd you know?" Curt asked, looking up at him as they trailed the corridor Owen had come in through backwards.

"You wouldn't believe this, but Cynthia called me."

"Wait, seriously?"

Owen nodded. "Apparently I can be useful when I want to be."

#spies are forever #saf #curtwen #agent curt mega #owen carvour #tw blood #tw injury #void offering #star mail #nova's tags → #injured ass curt and feral ass owen #a combination made for the gods #i cannot wait for you guys to see owen lose his absolute shit #you ever get tired of being polite 👀 don't you wanna go apeshit 👀

[mochalottie]

Masterlist

(Because even though no one asked for one...I wanted to do it to keep my brain entertained)

Avatar (Cameron Movies)

Oel Ngati Kameie (37k+ words) Series about Spider being adopted into the Sully. Post Way of Water.

To protect (2k words) Oneshot about Spider being injured on the SeaDragon.

Baby Mine (6.5k words) 5 times Spider called someone Mom or Dad and one time someone called him Son.

Eywa Provides (23k words) Multi chapter, complete - Feral Na'vi Spider living alone in the forest who is, surprise surprise, adopted by the Sullys.

Our Hearts Beat in the Womb of the World (115k words) Multi chapter, complete - Spider is adopted by Tonowari and Ronal. That's it. That's the fic.

For the Nights and Days of Life (387k words) Multi chapter, complete - All humans leave Pandora after the final battle leaving Spider behind. Oh, and he’s blessed by Eywa. That’s it. That’s the fic.

You Brought light, and new life (78k words) Multi chapter, complete - The comfort fic/sequel that everyone (surprisingly) wanted and I definitely needed.

What am I supposed to do, dance with it? (8k) Oneshot - Spider turns into a tiger. That's it. That's the fic.

Let the Wind Carry Us to the Clouds Multi chapter, ongoing - Aka the ikran racing!au I've snatched up and twisted into my own version, which features some Nocorro but centrics around our boy Spider!

Every Family has Someone Who Falls Multi chapter, ongoing - the time loop au where Spider is thoroughly put through the wringer.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

When You Can't Look on the Brightside, I'll Sit with You in the Dark (63k words) Multi chapter - a Zukka Alice in Wonderland AU where Sokka is Alice and Ozai is the Red King.

If Music is the Food of Love, Play On (4k words) Oneshot - Zuko essentially pining after Sokka in a Modern AU

Final Fantasy XV

Stronger than the Tides (13k words) Oneshot - Mermaid AU for Reverse Big Bang 2023

Blessed be the Boys Time Can't Capture (6k words) Oneshot - heads of families in Eos are vessels for the Greek Gods.

FFXV Song ficlets Series of Oneshots based on songs by Lauv. Includes multiple ships and AUs.

New Dawn (74k words) Multi chapter, complete - Ignis x Male!OC

Star Wars Prequels

Rock You Like a Hurricane Multi chapter, second part abandoned -The Obikin Band AU with Obi-Wan on drums, Anakin with vocals, Rex on Bass and Ahsoka on Guitar

The Mandalorian

Chakaar (22k words) Oneshot - Din Djarin x Male!OC Where a curious thief gets too involved with a grumpy Mandalorian and gains a family in return.

Inheritance Cycle

The World Ahead Multi chapter, incomplete - The Eragon/LOTR crossover that no one seemed to need, but two people very much wanted.

The Witcher

Destiny Changed Series of Oneshots - Jaskier is a Witcher and falls in love for Geralt the Nobleman. That's it, that's the series.

Voltron Legendary Defender

Space Family to the Rescue (1k words) Oneshot - Sick Keith is cared for by his Space Family.

Love is Endless (6k words) Oneshot - Keith pines for Lance in a Modern AU.

(Techni)Colour Vision (60k words) Multi chapter, complete - Klance through many film AUs.

#avatar way of water #avatar the last airbender #final fantasy xv #star wars prequels #the mandalorian #inheritance cycle #toss a coin to your witcher #voltron legendary defender #lottie writes fanfic #writers on tumblr #masterlist

[unclewaynemunson]

Hello!

This post gives an overview of all my writing. All my fics are below the cut, and you can find my shorter ficlets & drabbles that I only posted on tumblr here :)

Normal things, baby! universe:

‘86, baby! (words: 58k) After they all survive Vecna (death? i don’t know her. and eddie definitely doesn’t either), everyone struggles with getting back to whatever “normal” is supposed to mean and new friendships are forged along the way, possibly even developing into something more eventually.

‘93, baby! (words: 2k) From Wayne’s POV, taking place 7 years after ‘86, baby! and reflecting on some of the moments from that fic, but also readable independently from ‘86, baby!

It’s Christmas, baby! (words: 5.5k) Four Christmas-themed oneshots that give some insight in the future after the events of ‘86, baby!

&Currently working on a Ronance-focused one taking place in the same universe :D

Fruity four fics:

Maybe if I was straight (words: 44k) AU based on the movie But I’m a Cheerleader, in which the fruity four meet each other because they end up in the same gay conversion therapy camp. Also, prepare for MANY supporting characters making appearances. And basically everyone is gay so that’s a bonus I guess.

The time of the year that you really need love (words: 14k) Christmas-themed fake-dating AU in which Steve and Robin, and Nancy and Eddie, pretend to be a couple.

Bee mine? (words: 5k) In which Steve and Robin are beekeepers, Eddie is a baker and Nancy a local journalist. The first chapter is all about Steddie and the second one about Ronance.

Steddie fics (mostly one-shots):

Friends don’t leave (words: 20k) In which Eddie leaves Hawkins, goes off the rails for a bit, and Steve continuously refuses to give up on him. (This was originally a one-shot so you can also only read the 1st chapter (words: 8k) if you prefer shorter fics)

It’s buzzcut season anyway (words: 2k) In which Steve finds out that Eddie’s hair is actually a wig.

The gayest chicken in Hawkins (words: 7k) In which a game of gay chicken between Steve and Eddie gets completely out of hand.

Beyond the yellow sweater (words: 3k) In which Eddie goes absolutely feral when he sees Mr. Harrington beating the shit out of Steve.

Basketball night (words: 1.5k) In which Steve is desperate to get Eddie's uncle to like him, and Eddie is just as desperate to get his uncle to like his boyfriend.

All I needed was the love you gave (words: 3,5k) In which Steve introduces Eddie to his parents.

Roses & Sunshine (words: 8k) In which Steve and Eddie meet at Hawkins’ community center. Eddie is there for guitar lessons, Steve for the daycare center. Misunderstandings ensue.

Not my type (words: 7k) In which Wayne meets Steve at a baseball match and wants to set him up with Eddie. Eddie is very much not into it.

Say you, say me (words: 3k) In which Steve and Eddie don’t quite have the same opinion about what Valentine’s Day is about.

The difference between a poem and a love letter (words: 5k) In which Eddie is a songwriter who likes to read poetry to find inspiration for new songs, and Steve a poet who finds his inspiration in music.

I will love your shadow (words: 3k) In which the bat-attack has left Eddie beyond repair and he has to come to terms with living with a stoma.

I’ll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) (words: 7k) In which Eddie dates Steve without really believing he changed.

Until you face the rope (words: 5k) In which Eddie faces a trial for the crimes he didn’t commit.

Soul Mate (words: 1k) In which Steve and Eddie ponder what it means to get married and whether or not soulmates exist.

Ronance fics:

I’d kiss you if it wouldn’t kill me (words: 19k; inspired by Pushing Daisies but you don’t need to know anything about the show to read this) In which Nancy possesses the power to bring people back to life with a single touch. When Robin dies at the hands of Vecna, Nancy is there to save her. But there are some repercussions. The most important of them? If they ever touch again, Robin will die – and there will be no way back. After Vecna is defeated and Hawkins seems safe again, the two girls have to navigate what exactly this means for the bond they share.

Chamomile Christmas (words: 3k) In which Robin meets Nancy in a coffee shop on Christmas Eve.

The perfect girl for you (words: 9k) In which Wayne sets up Robin with Nancy, but things aren’t going as smoothly as Robin had hoped.

And suddenly we’re Thelma and Louise (words: 9k) In which Robin and Nancy make a roadtrip from Boston to Mexico, guided by a list of things Nancy feels like she missed out on during her college years.

The art of kissing a girl (That’s what friends are for, right?) (words: 4k) In which Nancy helps Robin prepare for a date with Vickie by giving her some kissing lessons.

Others:

I owe you nothing, I owe you my life (WIP) In which Eddie finds out that Karen Wheeler is his mother.

My life in the lines of your hand (words: 17k) In which the soft romance of my most beloved rarepair Wayne Munson and Scott Clarke gets explored through a series of defining moments for them.

#fanfic #stranger things #fruity four #steddie #ronance #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #wayne munson #fanfiction #ao3

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you're still accepting requests, what about t4t lesbian steddie? them having their First Ever Girls' Night together, maybe they're not even dating yet bc they don't want to risk the friendship with like. the one other person in The Whole World (small town indiana) who gets them. much pining and trans joy ensues.

-stevieharringtonwifeguy (it's a sideblog so i can't send an ask from there, but if you do end up doing something with this please tag me, not sure how anonymous asks work with notifications)

AHHH THIS ONE MADE ME NERVOUS. For one, and I know it makes no fucking sense because I have never lived the experience of a gay man, but I have never lived the experience of a trans person and for some reason my brain was like, you don't get to write this experience. But then I said, these are fictional characters, that you write even more fictional things about, and what the hell is the harm in trying to write an authentic small town t4t lesbian experience for these two. So @stevieharringtonwifeguy I really hope I did this justice, and that the wait was worth it. I also admit part of the reason I've been so incredibly nervous was that I haven't read more than a handful of ficlets with t4t Steddie, but after this I would LOVE some recommendations for more. Thank you so much for sending this! - Mickala ❤️

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“Oh. Okay. Well, that’s okay. Em and I can still have fun,” Stevie said, voice only slightly shaky despite her sudden nerves.

“Sorry, I swear if I didn’t have a fever, I’d still be there,” Robin said over the phone.

“Feel better, Robs.”

Stevie hung up with her best friend, letting out a sigh and leaning her head against the table.

“Everything okay, Stevie?” Em asked from the doorway.

It was supposed to be girls night, Em’s first with Robin and Stevie, and now Robin was stuck in bed with the flu.

Not a great start.

Stevie and Em had spent hardly any time alone since Robin first introduced them. It wasn’t for any particular reason, it’s just that Stevie was really cautious about who she got close to, and it seemed Em was the same way.

But now they were having an entire night alone. Together. Alone.

Did she say alone yet? No one else would be there.

This was only a big deal because she had the biggest, most ridiculous crush on Em.

How could she not? She was fucking beautiful, and fun, and kind, and entertaining, and perfect.

It may be more than a crush.

But Em wasn’t into women, or at least that's what Robin said.

That she’d asked her out once after band practice senior year and Em said that she didn’t date girls.

So Stevie had to let it go the best she could and just try to welcome her to the group.

“It’s okay. Robin’s sick. Can’t come,” Stevie said against her arm.

“Oh. Do you want me to go?”

“What?” Stevie sat up, eyes wide and sad.

“You just seemed like you might not wanna do it anymore without her?”

“No! That’s not it. I’m just a little bummed, but we can still have fun,” Stevie tried changing her tone so it was full of more excitement.

“Oh. Good,” Em smiled at her shyly.

Em wasn’t usually very shy around Robin. Others, sure, but never when Robin was around.

Their plans tonight were pretty simple: paint nails, watch movies, eat candy, sleep.

But Robin was supposed to be bringing the candy, so Stevie was gonna have to improvise a bit.

She stood up from the table and walked to her cabinets, her mostly empty cabinets, and started rummaging through. There had to be some kind of decent snacks.

“I could run to the store and grab something?” Em offered as she watched Stevie push things around in her cabinets, clearly struggling to find a decent snack.

“We could make an actual dinner? I have spaghetti,” Stevie hesitantly suggested.

Em smiled and nodded.

“I love spaghetti.”

Stevie smiled and pulled out a pot to fill with water. She set it on the stove to boil and then searched for the jar of sauce she knew was in the cabinet by the fridge.

“Shit. Where is it?”

“I can help,” Em said, coming up behind Stevie and placing her hand on her back.

Stevie tried to cover the shiver that ran down her back, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Are you cold?” Em asked, concern in her voice and on her face.

“No! I’m okay. I’ll get some of the other stuff I need if you wanna look for the sauce. It’s uh, red?”

Em smirked.

“I’ll do my best.”

They continued on their separate tasks, until Em finally let out a loud “ah-ha!” and held up the jar of sauce.

She brought it over to Stevie, proud smile lighting up her face.

She was so beautiful, Stevie let herself bask in it for a moment. She couldn’t help it with the way Em just glowed.

Em cleared her throat, giving Stevie a nervous smile.

“Okay?” She asked.

“Oh! Yes. Thank you for finding this,” Stevie rushed to say, grabbing the jar from her and turning back to the pot she’d grabbed to heat the sauce and add her secret ingredients.

She could feel Em watching her, and instead of making her nervous like it should, it made her want to show off.

Stevie was a great cook, though she never did it unless it was for the kids she babysits or Robin.

“Do you want any help? I don’t wanna get in the way,” Em said, her face slightly pink.

Stevie didn’t need help, she could handle it easily, but having Em help her cook sounded like the kind of domestic fantasy she’d been picturing for almost a year now.

“Sure. You wanna add the pasta to the water first and then I’ll have you stir the sauce for a second?”

Em quickly followed her instructions as Stevie measured out some honey, brown sugar, and cayenne pepper to add to the sauce.

“Can I ask you something kind of…well, really personal? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Em said nervously.

“Sure,” Stevie responded with a comforting smile.

She was used to personal questions from the kids. They meant well, and they were just curious, but sometimes they asked the wildest shit.

“How did you pick your name?”

Stevie didn’t expect that one. Not because she’d never been asked about it before, but because her name was so close to her birth name, most people just assumed she didn’t put much thought into it.

“I actually picked it because of a boy I spent most of my time with at summer camp when I was little. We were inseparable there, did everything together. I told him that sometimes I didn’t really feel like a boy, and that I knew I liked girls, but didn’t know why I wanted to be one sometimes. He started calling me Stevie and it just stuck. He was my best friend there for years until he just stopped coming. The next summer I ended up starting my transition and it just made sense to go by Stevie.”

Em was quiet. She stirred the ingredients into the sauce as Stevie spoke, not commenting when she was done.

“I don’t know what happened to him. Nobody at the camp knew.”

Em turned to Stevie with a frown.

“Nobody knew because Wayne made sure it was a secret. Even told the school that I was his niece he never knew about and his nephew had moved back home.”

Stevie’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Wayne was Eddie’s uncle…”

“Yeah…”

Em and Stevie stared at each other, until it dawned on Stevie what she was saying.

“Oh my god. It was you.”

The realization made Stevie let out a sob.

“I cried for a week straight the summer you didn’t show. They almost sent me home,” Stevie said, resisting the urge to throw herself at Em. She’d missed their friendship for years. “The counselor in my cabin tried calling Wayne even to find out where you were.”

Em’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry. I knew how to contact you, but I got scared. I didn’t want you to think I was doing anything to like, compete with you? I dunno. It’s stupid now. No one, especially not you, would think that,” Em rambled.

Stevie put down the dishes she was pulling from the cabinet and turned to Em.

“When I told my parents I was a lesbian, they asked about ‘that boy from camp’ and asked why I had to be trans and gay, like either of those things are a choice. I’m trying to imagine what the hell they would say about ‘that girl from camp.’”

“Well, she didn’t know she was a girl yet at camp. Not really.”

“But she was, whether she knew it or not.”

They were staring at each other, blush on both their cheeks.

“You wanna go pick a movie?” Stevie finally asked, trying to get a second of space so she could process everything.

“Sure.”

The moment Em left the kitchen, Stevie let out a shaky breath.

Everything made sense. The way she was drawn to Em so quickly, the way that even with her shyness, they got along so well. The way her wide eyes seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them now that she wore mascara and eyeliner.

Stevie had loved Em before she was Em, it only made sense she loved her now.

She could hear Em turning on Netflix, the volume of the tv just loud enough to hear the opening notes on the welcome screen.

She drained the pasta, and placed some on the plates she’d just gotten down. She added a couple scoops of the sauce on top and sprinkled some Parmesan cheese over it all.

She brought the plates to the living room and smiled when she saw Em getting comfortable on the sofa.

“Your dinner, your majesty,” Stevie said dramatically, handing over the plate.

“Why thank you, chef,” Em replied just as dramatically.

Stevie sat down on the couch next to her, mixing the sauce around on the plate to evenly coat the noodles.

“I’m glad you got to be who you always felt like you were, Stevie,” Em said quietly. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. I’m glad you get to be Em now.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They smiled at each other fondly, then turned back to the movie and ate their dinner in silence.

It was 13 Going On 30, which had been one of Stevie’s favorites on movie night at camp.

Em remembered.

But Stevie couldn’t possibly say anything about it, it would give her feelings away in a second.

When they were both done eating, Em took the dishes to the kitchen to wash them and Stevie went to the bathroom to grab her nail polish collection.

But the mood had shifted a bit when they both made it back to the couch.

“I’m pretty tired,” Em sighed, curling up against the pillow on the end of the couch.

“I could paint your nails for you if you want? You can rest,” Stevie offered.

It may have been slightly selfish to offer at this point, but she would take what she could get.

Em gave her a soft smile and nodded.

“What color?” Stevie asked as she held out the basket.

“Surprise me. I trust you,” Em said as her eyes closed and she moved her hands out so Stevie had access to her nails.

“Oh. Okay.”

Stevie watched her for a moment, the way she relaxed into the couch, completely trusting Stevie to pick a color, paint her nails, and let her sleep.

Stevie found a dark red, nearly maroon, that she’d only used once and decided she didn’t like it with her skin tone, but knew it would work for Em.

She got started, focusing intently on making sure she didn’t get any on her skin, and going through two coats and a clear coat to make sure it stays fresh for at least a few days.

She leaned over to start gently blowing on them so they would dry faster.

When she looked up, Em’s eyes were open and she was giving her a sleepy smile.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Em whispered.

“Like the color?”

“Mhm. ‘S pretty, like you,” Em said before closing her eyes again.

What.

“What?”

Stevie couldn’t pull away or look away or stop her thoughts from racing.

Em didn’t date girls, that’s what she’d told Robin.

Then again, that was two years ago, when they were still in high school.

And maybe she’d said it to protect herself.

Hawkins wasn’t exactly a queer friendly space, that’s why Stevie had to be extremely careful during her transition, and why Em and Wayne had probably just straight up lied about hers.

But still.

Stevie gently placed Em’s hands down against the couch, hoping she wouldn’t move too much since they were still slightly wet.

She got up and ran to her room, furiously texting Robin.

Robin wasn’t answering but that didn’t stop her from sending a million texts.

She was damn close to a panic attack when she heard shuffling in the hall.

“Stevie? You awake?” Em asked outside her door.

“Uh, yeah. Come in!”

No! Stupid! You’re having a fucking crisis, don’t tell her to come in!

But she was in the room already, tired but concerned when she saw the way Stevie was rocking back and forth on her bed.

“What’s wrong?” Em asked as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing. Just kind of tired.”

“You look strung out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stevie-“ Em cut herself off with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry you found out like this. I should’ve told you earlier.”

“No, I get it. It’s okay. It’s not up to anyone but you who to tell and when, ya know? It’s your story, you’re the author, if you don’t wanna write it for others, then don’t.”

Em was smirking.

“That is word for word what Robin told me when I came out to her.”

Shit. Yeah, she’d given her that speech, too.

“You know, she asked me on a date once,” Em continued, scooting closer to Stevie in bed.

“I know.”

“I turned her down.”

“Yeah. You said you didn’t date girls.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Stevie watched as Em reached a hand out to cover Stevie’s knee.

“I said that I didn’t date girls who I couldn’t completely relate to,” Em said with a small smile. “You know what I mean?”

Stevie felt her body relax.

Em only dated trans women. It made sense.

“So like…”

“Stevie, I’ve been so fucking in love with you for so long, I don’t even think any other woman would have a chance in hell.”

Oh.

Okay.

“Can I kiss you?” Stevie managed to ask, despite her nerves and shock at the turn of events.

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”

When Stevie leaned in to kiss her, she knew this was one of those life altering moments, one of those events that happens and your entire life plan course corrects to completely revolve around this person, this thing happening.

When their lips met, Stevie knew she’d waited for this.

That anyone else she’d managed to kiss over the years couldn’t even be put on the same list as Em. That no matter what happened with them long term, she would never love anyone quite like she loved Em.

And with the way Em smiled into the kiss that neither of them wanted to pull away from, she seemed to think the same.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #t4t steddie #they're lesbians your honor #ficlet #requests

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: a/b/o dynamics - and writer's personal twists on werewolf lore/ the concept, shitty parents who lock their clueless daughters up in a bedroom because they think it'll stop everything that's going to happen, a mother figure reminiscent of Margaret White -the 1978 version, swearing, reader is locked in her bedroom, sneaking out and being 'rescued' by billy hargrove, an ooc/good side of billy hargrove. this one is also kind of tame.. but a little weird, imo. just protecting my own ass with the warning up here because some people see a/b/o on a piece and lose their entire goddamn minds over it. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt - a/b/o ( bonus ficlet; pt 2 of 3 )

character | fandom - werewolf!alpha billy hargrove | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, clueless!omega reader & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 4.2k

tagging -< taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you find yourself in the throes of heat, clueless as to what's happening to you, with your mother flipping out. enter billy hargrove rushing in to the rescue.. it's only right to thank him with a makeout in the Camaro, right? ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When heat fever hits an Omega, it’s hard and it’s fast. When it hit you, thanks to being blissfully unaware of the whole Alpha/Omega and werewolves do exist and everything that goes along with, you’re blind-sided.

First it’s the unbearable body heat. It feels like you’re sitting in a volcano’s lava stream and someone’s siphoned out all your blood, replacing it with scorching lava. This, of course, was put down to a cold. Maybe a bug that’s gone around a time or two already this month. Either way, you plopped yourself in an icy bath because you’re determined already, nothing is going to spoil your plans for the night.

Then it’s the jittery shakes. As you’re trying to fix your hair and do your makeup to get ready to go, the shakes hit and it’s so bad that you smear cherry colored lipstick outside the outline of your lips. And you have to re-do your mascara at least three times, by the time you get the shakes to subside just a little, you’re into the third phase.

Your entire body tenses. Everything, from your gums to the soles of your feet hurt. It feels like you’re being pricked with a thousand tiny needles and stabbed by a million little knives. This happens at the dinner table, because of course it does.

But then there’s a sharp sting. You drop the fork in your hand and clutch your opposite wrist against your body. Your mother is looking on in concern. Fear making her eyes wide.

And since she’s been drinking for about three hours by this point, the accusations start to flow. Instead of motherly concern, you get accused of being a little slut with some big, strong Alpha boy all day. She even threatens to call the school and make sure you were there all day long.

❝ Gee thanks, ma..❞ you sass, ❝ I feel like I’m dying and you blame it on your weird hangups about sex and boys..❞ you roll your eyes as your mother paces the dining room, a hand in her hair, mumbling about how this wasn’t supposed to happen to you, this gene was supposed to be completely out of the family line by now.

❝ When you’re done being weird, I’m getting dressed to go out with Bethy and Sean. I promised I’d take them trick or treating before my movie.. Since you can’t seem to find it in yourself to be a normal mom just one night..❞ you rush out of the dining room to go upstairs and throw on a pair of jeans.

You’re halfway up the stairs when your mother catches up to you, pushing you into your own bedroom at the top of the stairs as she locks the door from the outside and tells you that it’s for your own good. ❝ I'll not have you become a sex-addicted wolf whore. Not in this house.❞ she calls through, ❝ You'll stay in here until you learn to ignore these sinful urges.❞

You spend about two and a half hours pounding on the door until you're too exhausted to continue. ❝ Please, ma. Please open the door, I'll be good, I swear.❞ your voice dies away and you flop down onto your bed, taking several shaky breaths as you stare up at the ceiling.

You pull yourself up from where you'd flopped onto your bed about thirty minutes later and take a few shaky breaths. Your heart is still pounding, this is the first time your mother has resorted to locking you in your bedroom since you were at least 10. It feels like the walls are closing in rapidly until you hear the sound of your younger siblings laughter down below because your bedroom window isn't fully closed.

As soon as you realize you left the window cracked, you start to work at it. And it’s hard because it’s an older window, it likes to stick for absolutely no reason. As you’re doing this, you hear a lone howl.

It’s coming from the thick treeline across your backyard. You turn your attention back to what you’re doing. It wouldn’t be a surprise or anything, you do live near a forest, there are animals in said forest.

That’s the only thing today that’s had a logical explanation. - the thought comes along with another round of searing heat, this time it’s so hot to your body that you’re dizzy. Your mouth is dry.

Then the howl echoes off the night all over again. It’s getting closer.

You pump your fist in victory as you manage to raise the window to your bedroom about halfway. It’s enough for you to fit yourself through. The movie you were  supposed to be meeting your friends to see in town is long forgotten by this point, you’re more focused on not becoming Carrie White to your mother’s Margaret.

You’re about halfway out the window when you hear your name being hissed from the ground below.

It’s Billy.

He’s leaned against the trunk of the tree that houses your little sister’s tire swing. Watching you. ❝ You’re gonna break your fuckin’ neck.❞

❝ It’s better than being here when my mom gets in with the siblings.❞ you hiss, frantic. You drop from your window to the roof of the front porch just now. Billy’s on autopilot. Nothing on his mind but getting here, to you.

❝ Give me a second, goddamn..❞ he crushes out the cigarette he’s half finished with and hurries over, stopping at the side of the wrap-around porch.

To any of the neighbors, this probably just looks like a teenage girl sneaking out to meet her boyfriend. To you, it’s a full-blown panic because your mother flipped out for no good reason earlier.

❝ Jump down. I gotcha.❞ Billy knows this is a terrible idea, if he wants to sever the connection completely, this is the last place he needs to be right now, but.. He’s been bombarded by everything about you and when he could feel you panic all the way across town, he fought like hell but it was a battle he lost, sneaking away from Tina’s stupid party and rushing here. To you.

You eye him warily. Swallowing hard as you squeeze your eyes shut and jump. Strong arms are waiting, there’s never even a split second where it feels as if he’ll drop you. It doesn’t surprise you, you’ve seen him lifting weights in the gym after school. He can lift more than almost all the other boys without even breaking a sweat.

❝ Hey, whoa..❞ you realize what’s going on, the fact that somehow, Billy Hargrove knows exactly where you live without ever asking. You look at him and he grumbles. ❝ What? Is this not what you just spent twenty minutes wishing for, doll? We don’t have time t’ talk right now, alright?❞

And there’s something urgent. Something wild in baby blue eyes. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want to be here himself, that he’s here against his own free will. Like he’s not in control of his own decisions.

And you’re not sure why, but your last visit to your grandma at the state home your mother shoved her into, that all comes rushing back. She kept talking about how ‘things aren’t always what they seem to be.’.. Then she started to tell you about your family bloodline being descended from a pack of Omegas… Female werewolves.

What any of it had to do with your latest argument with your mother, you weren’t sure at the time.

But so much of what your beloved grandmother said that day has actually happened since. And she’s always just kind of… known things.

Your mother says she’s crazy, that it’s dementia or something. But given the way your day has been going, you’re starting to wonder.

As you’re cycling through the whole thing in your mind, Billy’s made it to his idling Camaro a block away and he’s opening the passenger door, placing you in the passenger seat. From the backseat, a girl with flame-colored hair speaks up quietly. 

❝ Hey.. I’m Max..❞

You nod. Give her a weak smile. Because the whole episode you were having earlier took a lot out of you and when you jumped down into Billy’s arms a few minutes ago, you were half afraid you wouldn’t make it because your whole body felt boneless. Like rubber or jello.

Billy gets into the Camaro and stomps the gas, the sound of Metallica filling in the thick silence that settles over the three of you. As the Camaro blows past the sign heading into city limits, Billy reaches out to lower the radio.

❝ For fucks sake, stay awake, alright?❞ as he grumbles to himself about this being a really, really bad idea and how he should’ve just ignored what he was hearing -and feeling because of it, because it’s only going to end in tragedy.

Max speaks up quietly. ❝ You don’t have to become him, Billy. How do you know any of that?❞

❝ Because I do, alright!❞ Billy snaps before going quiet. The car spins to a stop at the curb in front of the arcade. Billy nods to Max and Max wordlessly collects her skateboard, rushing out of the car as if hellhounds were on her tail.

This leaves you all alone with Billy.

The boy who has been a constant in your brain lately. The boy who scares you and yet, you feel connected to somehow. The boy you want more than anything but the fact that you want him actually sort of terrifies you.

The Camaro starts to drive away. By the time you’ve managed to totally overthink everything, the Hawkins sign is blowing past all over again. You glance over at him. Studying strong facial features as he drives and makes a point to stare at the road ahead.

You can’t take the silence anymore and you’re just about to say something but Billy beats you to it first. ❝ You don’t have a clue what’s happenin, do ya, doll?❞

You shake your head No at him. He grumbles under his breath as he brings the Camaro to a stop in the gravel parking lot out at the quarry. When Lover’s Lake is too full, this is another popular makeout spot, or so you’ve heard, anyway.

You wouldn’t know personally, the most you’ve ever done with a boy is a little kissing, a lot of heavy petting in the back row at the Hawk. And then your mother fucked all that up by throwing a tantrum when he forgot you warned against stopping by and she lost her entire mind upon answering the door to find said boy standing on your porch. He wouldn’t even look at you the next day and when word got out that your mom was a nutcase, it wasn’t as if any of the boys were lining up after that.

Your heart is racing. Of all the places to take me, you think to yourself, he picks a popular makeout spot. What’s he planning?

Billy coughs abruptly as soon as he catches on to your noisy mind yet again today and this time, he speaks up. ❝ Do y’ have t’ think so damn loud, darling?❞

You jump a little, drawn out of your own noisy thoughts. You give him a blank look and Billy shrugs but he doesn’t bother explaining himself, instead he chooses to remind you that he’s asked you a question. And it’s a question he expects an answer to because that answer is going to help him figure out how in the hell to handle this little situation the two of you find yourselves in at present.

❝ I asked you something, doll. Kinda waitin’ on an answer.❞

He stares at you expectantly as you shift and squirm in his passenger seat, each move of your sexy little body sends that totally unfiltered sweetness in your scent wafting right up his nose. It’s hanging so heavy in the air between you both that he almost feels like he’ll choke on it. And yet, he can’t get enough of it and the sweeter it gets, the harder his cock gets, pushing painfully against the front of tight blue jeans.

It’s so bad that he has to shift in his seat and hope that takes away some of the pressure. When it doesn’t work, he lightly punches the wheel.

You watch him struggling with himself quietly as you try to think of an answer. You don’t have the first clue what’s going on. Beyond the episode earlier and just a few bits and pieces of the ramblings of an old lady with bad dementia, you’re fucked for an answer.

❝ No. Not a single clue.. But my grandma, she kept talking about something big happening to me.. The last time I visited her in the nursing home.❞ you go quiet. Billy rubs his chin thoughtfully. 

At least somebody tried to warn you. Now, he thinks to himself, I need to figure out just how much her grandmother told her, if she believes any of it. ❝ Okay, what’d she tell you?❞ he asks, baby blue eyes settling on you. When you lock eyes with him and see the way his seem to glow in the dim car, you gasp and your jaw drops. Billy acts as if the fact that his eyes glow in the dark is completely and totally normal. 

❝ She kept trying to tell me that I’m the descendant of wolves? And soon, something is gonna happen to me. I think she called it..❞ you fumble around in your brain for the term she used and as you repeat it back to Billy, your whole body starts to burn all over again. ❝ Mating season. Yeah, that’s what she said. But she’s got dementia and she’s always had this weird fixation on wolves and stuff, so..❞ you shrug and fall silent, staring out the windshield of the car.

The orange sunset is starting to fade, the sky is painted with shades of pinks and purples now, hints of a darker inky blue peeking out of the clouds that surround the full moon. Billy’s staring up at the sky too, trying to figure out how to proceed. When he sees you clutch your right wrist against your own body, he reaches out, snatching your arm and pulling it so that he can look.

The second he raises your sleeve, he bites back a groan.

The same marking he saw turning red in the shower this morning is sitting on your wrist, flesh raised and red, angry as if it’s a fresh burn. He bites his bottom lip and when you pull your wrist away, he almost wants to hold onto it for a few seconds.

Just because he’s in the same position as you are right now, body on fire, mind scrambled and jumbled with the biggest portion of your thoughts focused on each other.. In varying sexual situations, he shifts in his seat as he remembers the daydream you were having earlier this morning that he was forced to endure as he sat beside you.

You circle back to his bizarre statement about you thinking too loud. And you’re gaping at him. ❝ When you yelled at me about thinking too loud..❞ you pause as you try to tell yourself this all absolutely has to be some kind of weird fever dream, that’s the only explanation at this point.

Because the only alternative is that your grandmother isn’t crazy like your mother claims. And if that’s the case then that means everything she’s been saying for years about the family bloodline is.. True.

Billy speaks up quietly, ❝ I wasn’t yelling, but anyway.. What about it, doll?❞

❝ You did yell.❞ you’re pouting just a little. Billy snorts in laughter quietly. And then he clears his throat. All he wants to do at this point is get to the bottom of it all. Figure out just how hard it’s going to be to sever this stupid bond his wolf has chosen to make on his behalf without any consent from him at all. You’re picking at a loose thread on the edge of your sleeve and staring down at your own lap intently. Because this is a lot for you to take in.

Not to mention, the longer you’re surrounded by him and his everything, the more you’re tempted to lay down and offer yourself up to him in the backseat of his Camaro. And you sense that this isn’t exactly what he wants. That for whatever reason, he dreads this. He’s been fighting it, if his own noisy thoughts are anything to go by. Then it hits you.. You’ve been thinking you heard him talking to you randomly all day but if he can hear you thinking it’d make sense that the same can be said for you.. Right?

❝ Fine, whatever. Look, can we just get back on fuckin track here?❞ Billy asks as he takes a cigarette and lights it up. He offers you the pack and you take one for yourself. He leans into you and naturally, it’s way too close. Close enough that the tips of your noses brush and when this happens, that woozy feeling is back. And so is the searing fire that’s been running through your veins all night.

You sway just a little and swallow down a lump because your throat’s all dry and it’s bothering you. Billy speaks up quietly. ❝ Shit. Fuck. I was hopin’ this wouldn’t fuckin happen, darling..❞ as he shifts in his seat all over again and stares at you.

He’s losing this fight too, all restraint has flown right out the window with the dying embers of the cigarette he’s just finished off. You bite back a whine as you feel yourself starting to spin out of control and you find yourself leaning into him just a little too close for the second time in a day, just like you were in class earlier.

Billy grips your upper arms and stares into your eyes. He hasn’t even touched you and there’s this fucked-out glow in them, lust blotting out your irises. He knows you’re dripping by now, this has him almost drooling because the scent of you is entirely too sweet to resist a second longer. 

You speak up, a tiny and wavering voice. ❝ You were hoping what wouldn’t happen, hm?❞

He chuckles. It’s a dark and dangerous sound. Rather than be completely crass about it, he grabs hold of your wrist and places your palm up against the way his cock is so hard it’s about to burst straight through his jeans. You shiver and whine because feeling how hard he is only makes the flood between your own thighs so much worse. You’ve been wet all day, no thanks to him.

❝ Do you get it now, doll? I shouldn’t be here with you right now.❞ Billy trails off, thumping his cigarette pack against the wheel just so that he has something else to focus on for a second or two. After a long pause, he looks over at you again. You’re staring at him, waiting on him to finish saying what he’d been about to say. ❝ It’s dangerous for both of us, alright?❞

This answer isn’t satisfying enough for you. ❝ Wait.. w-what do you mean dangerous, Billy?❞ your voice wavers. He can smell the fear the exact second it creeps into your scent. He sighs and shakes his head. Mumbles something about you, asking for it with all your fucking questions and then he looks at you and leans in closer. That predatory and hungry gleam is in his eyes again and they’re glowing an even brighter blue that’s almost as hypnotic as the waves in an ocean on a calm day.

❝ I wanna fuck you til I’m empty, you're so full of me it drips outta you and you can’t remember anybody else’s name but mine. I wanna bite that pretty little neck, leave my mark behind so shit like what Jason Carver tried t’ pull earlier doesn’t happen t’ you again. But see, here’s the thing..❞ he rubs his forehead. He’s regretting the keg stands right now. And the entire bottle of Wild Turkey he managed to consume just hoping he’d numb himself enough that he wouldn’t hear you anymore in his head. He wouldn’t smell you, ready and waiting. Ripe for the picking.

❝ If I do any of this, doll.. It’s only gonna destroy both our lives.. I'm a bastard, you'll realize it sooner or later.❞ he exhales a plume of smoke into the air after lighting another cigarette. There’s angst in his voice, it’s almost as if he wishes what he’s just said wasn’t true at all.

And you’re wondering where he gets that idea from to start with. Because the more you stop and think about it, the only thing that’s kept you fighting your own pull to him has been every bullshit belief your mother drilled into your own head.

To be fair.. Grandma said Mom wanted no part of any of it when she was my age. Said she even turned her back on the whole thing and purposely got knocked up with me then left town. She was hoping she’d breed out the family bloodline. That worked so well, thanks Ma. - the thought has you sitting there, slowly coming to terms with it all.

And maybe that’s what prompts you to speak up, placing a hand on his thigh as you stare at him intently. ❝ Why? Are you not even a little curious, Billy?❞ you’re leaning in closer and you’re not sure why you do it, but you push your hair away from the right side of your neck. Billy rubs his chin and coughs, shifting around in his seat all over again. Offering up your neck to him like this is definitely not a smart move on your part and yet.. Here you are, doing it.

❝ You’re in heat, you’re not thinkin, doll.❞

❝ Oh trust me, Billy.. This is the first thing I’ve actually thought out completely in a really long time. Don’t I get a say in what I want?❞ you frown just a little, ask in a quieter tone, ❝ Somebody’s gotta take care of you, Billy. And maybe all the fighting this off I’ve been doing is just tiresome.. Unless you’re trying to say you don’t want this to happen and you’re the one who wants to reject it.❞ you pause, searching baby blue eyes for any sign that might be the case.

Billy chuckles to himself and decides that he’s about to call your bluff. He leans into you and just barely drags his teeth over the soft skin at the base of your neck. His nose buries there next and he inhales deep. ❝ It’s kinda fucked up, y’know.. You pickin me. Don’t you know how scary I am, doll?❞ he mutters, breath hot against your skin. Your own breath hangs in your throat and you whine out as your hands find purchase in the fabric of his red shirt.

❝ All I know is that I trust you. And I want you and damn it, I’m sick and tired of fighting it, Billy..❞ you mutter as another intense wave of heat -pain along with it this time, sends you into him, seeking comfort.

Billy’s breath catches and he awkwardly wraps his arms around you, letting you melt into him completely. When he can feel you calming down a little, he pulls away to stare down at you.

And he knows he’s irrevocably fucked because there’s no way he was ever going to keep fighting it off. He was doomed to lose the fight all along. He doesn’t like losing but in this case, considering the prize he might have even if it’s just a little while before he somehow fucks it all up, he’s not really sure it’s a bad thing this time around.

❝ Careful what you’re askin for, princess. This is kind of permanent. Because I’m not gonna let you go so easy once I take you for myself, doll.❞

There’s supposed to be menace in his words, it’s supposed to be a threat and you’re well aware of it. But there’s also comfort in them. He’s protected you on more than one occasion. You feel safer with him than you’ve ever felt with anyone. There’s calm. You’re not chasing your next thrill when you’re all preoccupied with thoughts or dreams of him.

❝ I-I don’t care. It’s what I want, Billy. Are you seriously going to deny me? I thought you were a red-hot stud, Hargrove, what’s with the fight you’re putting up, hm?❞

He bites back a groan as your palm settles against the way he’s strained at his jeans all over again. When you ghost it over the bulge, he bucks himself up into you and a helpless, needy sound wrenches it’s way free from the depths of his chest. You’re whining quietly, you’ve given up the battle with restraint. You’re ignoring that pesky little inner voice that keeps insisting that he’s scary, that you’ve seen his mean streak at work before and you shouldn’t be doing this. You’re ignoring them in favor of the other side to it, the one that insists this is right. This is exactly what has to happen.

As your free hand clasps against the back of his neck and your fingers tangle in the curls of his mullet, his hand slips up the front of your shirt and you moan as he squeezes your tits and growls against your partially open mouth. ❝ You don’t have a clue what you’re getting yourself into, darling.❞ he mutters as his tongue parts your lips and drags over your own tongue. Thick digits dig into your hips and tangle in your hair, pulling at it as he deepens the kiss and maintains total control. His heart is about to beat right out of his chest and you feel it as you melt against him…

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanficton #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✓ ) #lazyghoulskinktober2023 #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴɪ sᴇʀɪᴇs ; ᴘᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ) #🔞ɴғᴡ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ.

[asliceoftoast]

small ficlet in the april, jackson, alex roommate era :)

--

He moved a little harder, hips slamming against hers. With each thrust, the headboard smacked against the wall. A lewd moan escaped her, punctuating the grunts and slapping skin. April shifted in her bed, pressing a pillow into her face as she screamed.

For the third night in a row, Alex was keeping her up with the sound of his late-night meetings with whatever girl he picked up from Joe’s. This was the final straw. Turning to her side, she screwed her eyes shut and tried to fall asleep.

The next morning, April corralled her roommates around the breakfast bar for an emergency meeting after politely pushing Alex’s sex buddy out the door. Jackson sat quietly, watching April unleash her wrath on their unsuspecting roommate.

She snapped her spatula at Alex. “You’re too loud at night.”

Alex scoffed, “Am not.” He shoveled a bit of his breakfast into his mouth, a cheek inflating to accommodate the food as he continued to talk. “Even if I was, you’re just jealous because you’re not getting any.”

Her face flushed crimson, anger seeping through her veins. “I’m not jealous! I could not care less who you sleep with! Just stop keeping me up with it.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Who said it was me? It could have been Jackson.” Jackson looked over at his roommate, the silent ‘what the hell’ radiating off him in waves. He had spent the night watching a movie with April before heading their separate ways at midnight. Alex hadn’t gotten back yet, stumbling through the door with a girl on his arm a little after one. 

“I know for a fact that it wasn’t Jackson.” She pushed them towards her bedroom, Alex still chewing his food as he walked. “His room is down the hall. Just listen.” April walked out of the room as the two men stood awkwardly at the foot of her bed.

Rhythmic tapping sounded and Alex snickered. 

“Not cool, man,” Jackson snapped causing Alex’s composure to stiffen. 

He understood her frustration. Having to listen to Alex, of all people, loudly and very enthusiastically have sex every night was bound to get on anyone’s nerves. Compounded on the virgin jokes, April was a saint for putting up with it for as long as she had. While people ragged on April for being a virgin, she kept to herself and never really judged others for choosing to have a sex life in the same way she wanted people to give her the same respect for choosing to not have one. Or in this case, not wanting to have to listen to others have one.

Jackson thought her demonstration was done, waiting for April to pop her head back into her room since she had proved her point. What he was not expecting was a loud, breathy moan to sound out. 

“Oh, God. Yes. Yes. Yes!” she screamed, voice slightly muffled by the inches of drywall between them. April kept going, immersed in her late-night demonstration. It seemed as if she was going for accuracy, which made it all the more… her, even if it was placing images and sounds in his head that he wasn’t sure were supposed to be there. Now or ever. “Harder. Mmmmmm. There! Fuck me!” He swallowed tightly, muscles suddenly forgetting how to work. His gaze fell to Alex who looked like he was about to burst out laughing. 

“I wonder where she’s getting this material,” he snorted loudly.

April quickly fired back through the wall. “From the many screams that keep me up during the night.”

“I know how to please a lady. So what if they’re loud.”

“Tell them to be quiet!” The tapping had stopped, and April’s footsteps thundered as she stormed back into her room continuing her tirade on the same breath. “I’m trying to sleep. You’re not the only person who lives in this apartment.” Alex sent a look to Jackson, silently requesting backup as if her request was ridiculous.

“Dude, just keep it down. It’s not nice to April to constantly have to deal with your booty calls and have to hear them at night.” April popped her head into the open doorway of her room, rejoining her roommates at the foot of her bed.

“Okay, Mom and Dad.” Alex rolled his eyes and walked out of the room. “I’ll tell them to keep it down, but no promises.”

“And the headboard?” April asked weakly at his retreating figure. Alex lifted a hand and waved her off. 

Jackson cleared his throat, “We can install rubber anti-shake things. I can order them later.” 

“Thank you,” she mumbled quietly. April turned to Jackson, eyebrows pushed together with worry. “Do you think that worked? I’m worried I was too harsh. I’m just so frustrated and tired.” She snorted. “Mostly tired.”

Jackson draped an arm around her shoulders, quickly moving them out of her room. “You did great, Apes.”

#japril #also alex #baby japril #april x jackson #fanfics #hehe #drabble #writing

[eoinmcgonigal]

A list of my published SAS:RH fics

just sort of tidying up i guess idk

Paddy Mayne/Eoin McGonigal

Melody - T, 1.4k pre-canon falling in love

Refrain - M, 10k [UNFINISHED] post-canon, resurrection, Eoin & Jock are alive again

Beat - T, 1k post-canon, chronic pain Paddy, hurt/comfort

Diminished - T, 4k canon era, memory loss, reunions

Fermata - T, 1k afterlife, death, reunion

Jig - G, 0.6k modern au, halloween decorating

Transposition - E, 1.7k canon setting, weird physiology/creatures au, knotting .

Johnny Cooper/Bill Fraser

A Shortcut vs. the Long Way Round - T, 0.5k modern au, a shortcut through a graveyard

Alien Readings - T, 0.4k modern au, Bill's book reading isn't what it's supposed to be

Death's Embrace - M, 0.4k canon era, he is dead, but still with him

The Perfect Pumpkin - T, 1.4k modern au, Bill surrenders the perfect pumpkin to a stranger

One Day - T, 0.4k modern au, a cosy weekend away in a cabin

What If? - T, 2.1k modern au, they meet a few years after high school, while Bill is having a bad day

Horrifying Choice - T, 0.4 modern au, they try to pick a movie for a date night

Naebody Wauks - T, 1.8k modern au, no one's warned the newcomer to the community not to walk the brae at night

Vampires Don't Exist - T, 0.3k modern au, Johnny tries to tell Bill what he is

Not Scared of Spiders - T, 0.3k modern au, there's a spider in the bathroom

This Tender, Perfect Place - M, 0.7k modern au, vampire!Johnny bites Bill in bed (same au as Vampires Don't Exist)

Shattered and Frozen - T, 1.3k modern au, Johnny is having a bad day, a stranger is kind

To Hear Things Unspoken - T, 5k canon au, Bill ends up able to hear everyone's thoughts

We Were Here - T, 1.5k modern au, as they explore an abandoned building, Bill remembers something from another life

Unnatural Sounds - T, 0.5k modern au, Johnny thinks the kitchen is haunted .

Johnny Cooper/Reg Seekings

Warm Relief - E, 0.9k modern au, watersports

Getting Lucky - E, 1.9k any au/postwar au, glory holes, first meetings

Fistful of Heaven - E, 1.7k modern au, fisting, aftercare

Choking on You - E, 0.6k canon au, undernegotiated kink, asphyxiation, no aftercare

The Shallow Deep Sea - E, 2.6k canon au, sentient creatures, tentacle sex, pre-relationship

I'll Give Anything but I Won't Give Up - E, 1.4k canon au, aftercare, sequel to Choking on You

Me, Inside You; You, Inside Me - E, 1.2k modern au, developing relationship, object insertion

Toe to Toe - E, 2.8k canon era, foot fetish, foot jobs, pre-relationship

In a Heartbeat - E, 1.8k canon era, crushes, bad flirting, oblivious Reg, frottage

Girly Show - E, 2.3k modern au, camboy!johnny, feminisation, masturbation

Taste You - M, 0.3k canon era, smoking, shotgunning .

I only wrote one fic for these pairings

Gen/No Pairing - SAS: Rogue Ghosts - T, 1.3k [UNFINISHED] BBC ghosts crossover, post-canon, everybody lives

Johnny Cooper/Eoin McGonigal - Shelter in the Shade - T, 2k canon era, flirting, first kiss

Eve Mansour/Eoin McGonigal - Welcome Command - E, 1.9k canon era, fuck buddies, riding crops

Eve Mansour/Paddy Mayne - A Place of Worship - E, 1.6k canon era, sequel to Welcome Command/same AU, oral sex

Johnny Cooper/himself - Sound Performance - E, 0.9k modern au, camboy!johnny, sounding

Pat Riley/anonymous - A Satisfying Place to Be - E, 0.9k any au, glory holes, blow jobs

Bill Fraser/Mike Sadler - "Can you feel it?" - E, 1.1k any au, fisting, aftercare

Mike Sadler/David Stirling - A Better Use - E, 0.9k canon era, face-sitting

Jim Almonds/Johnny Cooper - A Loser's Victory - E, 1.9k modern au, gym au, secret crush, spanking

Paddy Mayne/Mike Sadler - Sharp Change - M, 1.3k canon au, piercing .

My AO3 i haven't included the kiss/touch/fuck ficlets, but you can find them here: #ktf prompts

#sas rogue heroes #eoin mcgonigal #paddy mayne #johnny cooper #reg seekings #bill fraser #paddy x eoin #johnny x bill #johnny x reg #i don't suppose it matters now if anyone knows #bleh #not gonna list all the unposted stuff never mind the wips or the stuff i had planned #a third of the paddy/eoin is unposted #well it was fun while it lasted #there might be one more fic but it'll be tumblr only and it truly will be my last post #so kinda resisting posting it

[mistresslrigtar]

2023 Master Work List

12 chapter alt rock musical - (complete)

Start reading HERE

Summary: On the verge of burnout as graduation approaches, Zelda’s friend, Mipha, encourages her to take a night off to go see a local college alt-rock band. That is when Zelda sees Link, the band’s bass guitarist for the first time and falls hard; but when her insecurity and Link’s best friend Ganondorf's drug addiction threatens their budding relationship, Zelda must learn to trust Link, and more importantly herself.

Multiple-shot WIP. Read Can't Take My Eyes Off You - a New Year's Eve story set in the I Belong to You universe.

On the night of her father, Rauru’s New Year’s Eve party, Zelda pines for Link, who’s been on tour with his band, Hyrule Warriors.

All I Want is You - an ABC Family/Hallmark movie inspired Twilight Princess Zelink ficlet dropping just in time for Winter Solstice.

Read HERE

Summary: Link and Zelda come from two different worlds. When those worlds collide at the first annual Winterzauber in Hyrule, they’ll find that titles and stations have no meaning when it comes to true love.

Adore - eight-chapter Hylink origin story written for @zelinkcommunity's Zelink Week 2023.

Read here

Summary: Link is an embittered soldier fighting a losing battle in a holy war against the Demon King Demise, who is determined to claim Hyrule and the Triforce. When the goddess, Hylia, reenters his life, his hope for victory is renewed. Their reunion rekindles their love for each other, but will it be enough to emerge victorious?

Love in the Age of Calamity (complete) - This is my first piece, and not nearly as polished as later works.

Read HERE

Summary: All the incarnations of the hero’s soul, waiting for this perfect moment when they were no longer star-crossed but goddess blessed. After ten millennia of longing and being denied, the sword sings in his ears as Zelda melts in his arms.

This is the love story that fills in the blanks of the captured memories, that hinted at so much more that may have occurred outside those events.

Companion Pieces to Love in the Age of Calamity

Read Snowy Recollections (updated 6/26/23)- Link could not help but wonder how he was supposed to save this world if he could not remember his own past or why he had been chosen in the first place. Maybe he was going about things the wrong way. Perhaps, instead of trying to force himself to remember important pivotal moments, he needed to focus on remembering small things, like his favorite color, and possibly, if he could grasp a simple recollection, the bigger ones would come in time.

Read Coming to Her Senses - free form poem written for Zelinktines 23 prompt It's been awhile...

One-Shots:

Read Without Her - An introspective Link piece, reflecting on his love for Zelda no matter what form she is - human or dragon. Written for bahbahhh's 1200 follower DTIYS prompt

Read Let Me Kiss You - You never forget your first kiss. It's a moment you'll hold close. A Link/Sheik one-shot. Written for ZeldaElmo's 1000 Follower prompt Just After Midnight.

Read Can't Do This Again - Brief introspective piece. Link wakes up on the Great Sky Island, in a chamber reminiscent of the Shrine of Resurrection, and one of his first thoughts is that he can't do it again.

Read A New Tradition (written for Zelinktines23 prompt Butterfly Kisses)(Chapter 8 to my Zelink week Adore) - In Skyloft, your treasured Loftwing welcomes your newborn into the world with gentle brushes on the baby's cheeks with the tips of its wings. Without Loftwings on the surface, what can Link do to recreate the Skyloftian tradition?

Read Enjoy the Silence - Zelda vows to stand up for Link the next time Revali is disrespectful, which leads to her having a small breakdown. Link comforts her, and Zelda realizes how much she enjoys the silence (that maybe isn't so quiet, depending on how you look at it) Link brings to her life.

#legend of zelda #zelink #ao3 writer #loz link #the legend of zelda #botw fic #loz #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #botw zelink #zelda #link #loz au #legend of zelda au #loz college au #loz hylink #wind waker link #loz wind waker #loz skyward sword

[fandom-hoarder]

⏳Timey Wimey Wincest 2: Electric Boogaloo ⌛

💜 Ft. Younger!Dean/Older!Sam 💜

+ a side of Samcentric and honorable mentions

~

[on tumblr]

💙 This ficlet by @writinginthesecrettrees

~

[on AO3]

💜 The Ghost In You by AmyPond45

Rating: Mature | Words: 3860 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: In an effort to ease his grief after Dean dies, Sam visits Dean in the past, during the Stanford era, when Dean’s missing his brother something awful.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Post-Finale, Grief/Mourning

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💜 Return to Thunder Dome by raidensrealm

Rating: Explicit | Words: 6918 | Underage

Summary: As a firefighter from the year 2115, Sam readies himself to time jump. After almost twenty years he reflects on the wild events leading to when his sixteen year old self witnessed when he kicked through the cabin door at Yosemite State Park like some big damn movie hero.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Earthquakes, Boys Kissing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Consensual, Landslide, Yosemite - Freeform, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, shower makeout sesh, HEA, First Kiss, First Time

My Note: I don't usually read AU, so if you're like me and kinda want to back away from that AU firefighters tag, let me just tell you that it's not like that, bestie, I prommy. It's sci-fi, which is kissing cousins with supernatural. It's time travel and action and feels.

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💜 Welcome to Your Future by klove0511

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 11336 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: When Dean is suddenly pulled through time, he's confronted with a broken little brother a decade older than he should be. With Sam determined to send Dean back to his own time, will Dean be able to figure out where his present day counterpart is and fix things for Sam?

Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, season 9/10 Sam Winchester, Mutual Pining, implied unrequited sam/cas, Show level violence, Demon Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Suicide

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💜 The Time Traveler's Brother by AmyPond45

Rating: Mature | Words: 54752 | Underage

Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't. As Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future?

Additional Tags: Underage - Freeform, Pre-Series, First Time, Schmoop, Cuddling, Romance, soul-mates, older sam/younger dean, bottom!Dean, Top!Sam, rating: R - Freeform, Hurt!Sam, hurt!Dean, time-travel, Weechesters, Wincest - Freeform, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester - Freeform, powers!Sam, Happy Ending, Multiple Sams, Multiple Deans, Alternate Reality, Soulless!Sam, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV: Dean

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💜 A Brief Moment in Time by Annie46fic

Rating: Mature | Words: 8903 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Dean's death was caused by the Mark of Cain. Sam decides to go back to a time before all of this started. After finding a suitable spell he finds himself back in Truman High, and goes hunting for Dean who is now the younger brother. Posing as a janitor Sam finds Dean, but can he change things for good this time? Or will everything go to hell?

Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Younger Dean/Older Sam, Bottom Sam, Season/Series 09 Spoilers, contains NSFW art, Implied/Referenced Character Death

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💜 The Midnight Rider by AmyPond45

Rating: Explicit | Words: 5173 | Underage

Summary: Did Sam really "stop" looking for Dean after he disappeared at the end of Season 7? Or is there just something Sam did that he doesn't want Dean to know about? Soon after the brothers move into the bunker, Dean has a weird dream, and when he confronts Sam about it, he gets some answers he wasn't quite expecting.

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Time Travel, Bottom!Sam, Schmoop, fix-it for Season 8, Wincest Big Bang 2016

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💜 Most Things Happen Somewhere Else by riyku

Rating: Explicit | Words: 3300 | Underage

Summary: A storm is ripping across the plains the night that the guy shows up.

Additional Tags: Time Travel

My Notes: This fic inspired the one listed above it, The Midnight Rider, but I personally enjoyed reading this one second as it's like it colors in the details from Dean's POV.

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💜 It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

Rating: Explicit | Words: 38400 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Fix-It

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💜 Ganymede Summer by phoenixflight

Rating: Explicit | Words: 4254 | Underage

Summary: Tracking down a series of disappearances, Sam gets flung back in time and has to solve the case with sixteen year old Dean. It's very distracting.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Case Fic, Established Relationship, First Time, Rimming, Bottom Dean Winchester, Younger Dean Winchester/Older Sam Winchester

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💜 You Can't Go Home Again by AmyPond45

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 27799 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam and Dean discover evidence that they time-traveled to 1983 to help their Dad and their younger selves right after their mother died. Then things get complicated.

Additional Tags: Season 9 AU, Time Travel, Wincest - Freeform, established wincest, Prequel AU, outsider pov, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Weechesters, Schmoop, cuddling goo, chick-flick-moments, Happy Ending, Fluff, Pre-Series

~

My Note: Despite this having both pairs of siblings, I decided this fic strictly belongs on this list because it's from wee!Dean's POV and wee!Sam is a baby. Outsider POV my beloved -- with a twist!

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💜 Come to Leave Me by raziella

Rating: Explicit | Words: 49834 | Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: He just wanted to change some things - go back and redo the parts that lead to this. He didn't expect to end up here.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Season/Series 11, Pre-Series, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Age Difference, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, First Time, Sam has moral objections, John is a complex character, Underage Drinking, Bisexual Dean, Sibling Incest, Self-Esteem Issues, Angels are Dicks, John's A+ Parenting, Teenchesters, BAMF Sam, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Temporary Character Death, Fix-It

My Note: This was lost in my tabs and added to this list October 1, 2022. It's epic!!

[samcentric]

❤ To Take Your Hand and Feel Your Breath by AmyPond45

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 12089 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Two months into Dean’s tour of Hell, Sam rescues him, with a little help from a friend from an alternate future. From his future self, Sam learns there are much worse things than Dean turning into a demon in Hell, and much darker futures await the Winchesters if Sam can’t get Dean out in time.

Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, au for season 4, Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Sam Winchester Saves Dean Winchester, Selfcest

My Note: This fic is really more about past!Sam and future!Sam interacting, though you do get some Dean interaction at the end.

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❤ Pick Myself Up Off The Ground by WetSammyWinchester

Rating: Explicit | Words: 14790 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: When hellhounds came for his brother, Sam was overwhelmed by grief and guilt, and willing to do anything to bring Dean back. Then a man who looks just like him shows up from the future with a story of angels and Armageddon.

This other Sam is dealing with his own guilt and loss, but he has a plan to stop the apocalypse before it begins and to rescue Dean. Now, the two of them must work together - two Sams to bring back one Dean.

Additional Tags: Angst, Time Travel, Spells & Enchantments, Sam Winchester Big Bang 2017, Hurt Sam Winchester, Grieving Sam, Vessel Trauma, Mutual Masturbation, Sam Winchester-centric

My Note: There's a sequel I haven't read yet.

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❤ The Only Place I Ever Called Home Was You by hunters_retreat

Rating: Mature | Words: 6000 | Underage

Summary: Sam and Dean never talk about what happened that night, but what happens when they find themselves in the same town, the night before everything went wrong? Can they change their past? And if they can, what happens to their future?

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Underage - Freeform

~

[honorable mentions; some of these are on both lists]

💚 Not Her Sam by Yuval25

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 4866 | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: "Oh," Sam says, and it's not her Sam, it's the other Sam, the older one, the broken one.

This Sam has not been hers for twelve years.

Basically, Future Dean goes back in time to change the future and saves Jess. Future Sam tags along unexpectedly. And Jess is okay. No, seriously. She's fine.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It, Older Dean, Older Sam, Slash, Older Dean/Older Sam, But also, jess/sam - Freeform, POV Jessica Moore, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Wincest - Freeform

My Note: Since this is Jess POV it doesn't exactly have the elements I typically desire from time travel wincest. But I love Jess in this and the wincest is blatant, with a side of SamJess.

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💚 Sincerely, Sam by FallenKy

Rating: Mature | Words: 87505 | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: Sam Winchester is praying for death.

Dean's already gone after sacrificing himself to take out Amara and Sam's losing more and more of himself each day at Lady Bevell's hands. He's reached his limit. Then suddenly he finds himself in 1998 and the sole focus of a supernatural lawyer who has one very firm request; She needs Sam to cure a demon. Dad, Dean, and Bobby won't let him out of their sights and Sam has enough to juggle with the swarm of supernatural creatures who think the Boy King has come back to take his crown.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Pre-Series, Weecest, Weechesters, Time Traveling Sam, BAMF Sam, Protective Dean Winchester, Miscommunication, Tortured Sam, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, powers!Sam, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Underage Kissing, Bottom Sam Winchester

My Notes: TBH the only reason this is Honorable Mention is this is a WIP that hasn't been updated since 2019. But it's at 17/19 chapters and it's a really awesome story. It's a Sam-time-swap, with 15-year-old Sam in the future with s12 Dean, and s12 Sam in 1998 with 19-year-old Dean. Hella plotty.

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💚 Sam's Magic Time Closet by AmyPond45

Description: One day, Sam finds a magic closet in his room in the bunker. He uses it to travel back in time to fix mistakes he made in the past, to check on his brother, and to bring home other versions of himself and Dean. It's mostly complete, but there are always room for more storylines with this kind of trope, so.

My Note: I haven't read these yet, but they look fun. There's a mix of who is older and younger in each work.

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💚 Pray Unto The Splinters by weeping00willow

Rating: Explicit | Words: 31861 | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

Summary: Still on the trail of Pestilence and running from both the Devil and Heaven's Host, Sam gets transported 15 years back in time and sucked into a case that seems to hold more than meets the eye.

Additional Tags: Time Travel, First Time, older!Sam/younger!Dean, Case Fic

My Note: I haven't read this yet but it sounds good. Case fic ftw!

~

[timey wimey wincest pt 1: older!dean/younger!sam]

#my rec list #wincest fic recs #wincest fanfiction #time travel wincest #time travel sam #time travel dean #timey wimey wincest #weechesters #weecest

[tennessoui]

you were talking about catty obi wan a few days ago which reminded me a little bit of the smithsonian au we havent heard abt her in a little! i love it so so much especially that one snippet you have at the party where obi decides hes leaving. that one makes me feral bfhddjjf out of pure curiosity if you were to write another little segment what would you write for that one?

here is another little segment! autumnally themed (the aforementioned 'cuffing season' ficlet, but make anakin and obi-wan literally unhinged and criminally oblivious)

(2.8k)

“Padmé,” Anakin Skywalker throws his wrapped sandwich onto the table before swinging the chair around so he can lean his front against the backrest, work slacks tightening indecently along the stretch of his thighs.

Obi-Wan puts his half-eaten salad panini aside. His mouth is suddenly very dry, which happens sometimes when he eats bread. He takes a sip of his American lemonade, a product that still fascinates him.

“Hello, Anakin,” Padmé greets from the head of the little table. “How have you been?”

“I think I’m lonely, Padmé,” Anakin declares. He’s not looked at Obi-Wan once, which really is just rude. “I think I want to get a girlfriend.”

“Pass,” Padmé says and bites at the tightest curl of her curly fries. 

“Not you,” Anakin hurries to say. “We tried that already. It was awful.” 

Padmé arches an eyebrow. 

“You weren’t awful,” Anakin says even faster. “Just—together—we weren’t—“

Obi-Wan’s stomach feels awfully tight. Perhaps he has overeaten or the sandwich from the food court Panera has not agreed with him.

“It’s autumn,” Anakin says sullenly as he starts ripping the plastic covering off his lunch.

“Who’s Autumn?” Obi-Wan hadn’t meant to say anything. Drat.

But the question stands. He hasn't heard of any new employees at the Air and Space Museum. Perhaps Autumn is a construction worker, Heaven knows they’ve been hanging around there for the better part of two years. Maybe Autumn is a girl from Texas. Maybe Autumn is a woman Anakin’s met on one of his nights out on the town that always show up on his Instagram stories, not that Obi-Wan watches those. Maybe she’s an attractive, busty woman who works as a consultant in Navy Yard.

No, Anakin wouldn’t go to Navy Yard on principle. Adams Morgan. Maybe he met Autumn at a bar in Adams Morgan. Maybe—

A hand lands on his forearm. “The season, darling,” Padmé tells him in a very mocking tone.

Obi-Wan can feel his cheeks heating at the same time Anakin says accusingly, “Darling?”

“Why do you want a girlfriend because of the season? Do you plan to have a boyfriend for the spring and a partner in the summer?”

Anakin shoots him a very dirty look before glaring at the hand Padmé has rested on his skin until she removes it to eat another curly fry.

“Have you never heard of cuffing season?” Padmé asks him with interest. “Do they not have that in the United Kingdom?”

“I think it’s less of a British thing and more of an old man thing,” Anakin replies, kicking out beneath the table and brushing past Obi-Wan’s foot with forceful intent. 

Padmé cuts in before Obi-Wan can respond which is, probably, for the better. “Cuffing season in America is what people call it when you date someone for a short period of time so that you can partake in the typical couple activities of the next few months. Pumpkin patch picking, horror movie watching, couples costumes, thanksgiving dinner, ice skating….”

Obi-Wan furrows hooks eyebrows in confusion. “Can’t you do all that with a group of friends?”

“Not romantically,” Anakin replies. He’s bitten into his sandwich and is partly through with chewing. There’s mustard on his chin. Obi-Wan decides not to tell him.

“So you want a girlfriend for a few months? And then what? Dump her in January?”

“Exactly,” Anakin says. “But I suppose I’m open to the possibility of dating a girl for cuffing season and then marrying her later because she turned out to be the love of my life. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it?”

For reasons Obi-Wan isn’t going to think about too hard, it quite literally sounds like the worst thing imaginable. Anakin, married?

“And how will you convince some poor lass to date you?” He asks, perhaps more waspishly than he intended. 

Anakin’s mouth falls open in offense. “I could get anyone I wanted to date me! And I don’t recall asking your opinion, Kenobi.”

“It’s called a conversation, I believe. When one person says something and another responds. Or do you just talk to listen to your own voice?”

“I like listening to my voice much better than I like listening to yours.”

“That’s unusual. Most all of the Americans I’ve met think my voice is lovely. They certainly seem to enjoy it during—“

“And I’ve lost my appetite, thank you both,” Padmé sighs and stands, crumbling up her paper container of fries and hamburger wrappings. “Anakin, I’m not going to set you up with one of my friends. I don’t want you to put your dick near any of them. Obi-Wan, our break ends in ten. I’m not making excuses for you if you’re late getting back online.”

Obi-Wan misses the first part of what she’s saying because he’s too busy glaring at Anakin, who is glaring right back at him. 

The man really could find a partner within a week if he were really serious about looking. He’s quite attractive, with his blond curls and bright blue eyes, the cut of muscle discernible through his work clothes. Sometimes at after-work happy hours, he’ll unbutton his shirt a bit, roll up his sleeves to play a game of darts in the back at Bar Deco, and there’s no way to prove that attendance to those happy hours have skyrocketed since pictures of Anakin focusing intently on the dartboard, corded forearm tense as he prepares to throw what was surely a bulls-eye had been posted on the intranet, but Obi-Wan knows it has. 

He’s made sure not to miss a single one since then, just out of scientific curiosity.

So if Anakin is going to find a girlfriend who will become a wife probably, then Obi-Wan wants to meet her. As soon as Anakin has, but that seems highly unlikely. He’ll settle for—

“Well, are you doing anything this weekend? For pumpkin patch walking and perhaps a haunted house tour?” He asks Anakin, who chokes on his turkey club. 

“Are you…sorry, are you volunteering to be my romantic—date?” Anakin asks once he has finished coughing into his napkin.

Obi-Wan waves a hand through the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. But if you’re available and can find a date by Saturday, I’d love to experience this aspect of American culture.”

“You want to…third wheel on one of my dates?” Anakin puts his sandwich down completely, which is probably for the better so as to avoid any more choking incidents.

“Well, I’d bring a date along too,” Obi-Wan points out. If Anakin can find a date then so can Obi-Wan. He hadn’t realized how lonely he also felt until this very moment actually. 

Good thing he’s clocked out for this lunch break. He’d hate to have such personal realizations while on company time. 

“You’re seeing someone?” Anakin’s tone is sharp again and bordering on accusatory. “Padmé didn’t say anything.”

“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment, no. Though if you are free, on Saturday, I’m sure I can find an interested party.”

Anakin pushes his food away from him, looking like he’s going to be sick. “I bet.”

“So?” Obi-Wan prompts when it doesn’t look like Anakin is going to say anything else of his own volition. “Saturday?”

“I have plans,” Anakin says.

“Oh,” says Obi-Wan. He feels strangely disappointed for several seconds. But of course Anakin has plans. His weekends are probably full for the next several months. A man like Anakin would never have time for a man like Obi-Wan. “Never you mind, then.”

“But—next weekend, I’m free. If you don’t mind waiting a week before going on your date.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He’d briefly forgotten about bringing another. “Yes, I should be available.”

“Great,” Anakin replies with so much enthusiasm in his voice that it must be faked. “We can hammer out the details later then.”

“Perfect,” Obi-Wan agrees. “I hope the weather holds up.” How banal! Talking of the weather! “With skies this blue, I can almost see why you love them so much.”

Much better.

Anakin blinks and then throws his head back with a laugh. Obi-Wan is struck dumb at the sight, though he recovers quickly.

Best not to stay around though, should Anakin decide to do anything else so ill-advised. 

He stands and gathers his own lunch trash. He’ll probably be very late back to his office, but perhaps he’ll be able to blame his tardiness on a couple of hordes of tourists. They all seem to have come out of the woodwork to enjoy the weather in the Mall.

“Would you care to hear some romantic advice from an old man?” He asks. “Though it may be horribly outdated, I wouldn’t know.” 

Anakin narrows his eyes, probably sensing a trap. His curiosity gets the best of him though. “Sure.”

“Perhaps wipe off that smear of mustard on your chin before you try to pursue a romance with anyone. I’m sorry to say, but yellow isn’t your color.”

He chuckles at how fast Anakin’s hands fly to his face, clutching a napkin. “I’ll have you know, everything is my color!” 

But Obi-Wan has already started to walk away, satisfied with getting the last laugh.

——————-

“Padmé, you have to help me,” Anakin begs into his phone. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

He can tell from the noises in the background that she’s only half-listening, chopping up ingredients for dinner. That’s fair. They’ve been on the phone for two hours.

She hasn’t offered any advice or any useful action items, of course, even though Anakin has given her plenty of time between segments of speech in order to intervene with any sort of aid.

“Ani, I quite honestly don’t know what you want me to do. You’ve gotten yourself into another incredibly peculiar and downright unfortunate situation.”

“And usually you help me out of those!”

“What are you telling these women? You’ve never in your life had trouble finding a date for an evening. What about Cassidy in the Botanical Gardens? I’ve always thought she would be interested in you.”

Anakin groans and collapses onto his mattress, still half-dressed in his work clothes and half in his exercise wear. He’d wanted to go on a run to clear his head, but then he’d thought that perhaps Padmé would be able to help him in his plight.

The plight being, of course, that no one wants to date him apparently.

“Cassie declined,” Anakin laments.

“Cassie has been panting after you for at least a year. There’s no way she’d decline. What did you say?”

“Well, she seemed interested when I asked…but maybe she just doesn’t like haunted houses? I told her that Obi-Wan asked me along on a double date to a haunted house and a pumpkin patch, and she sort of…said never mind?”

Padmé is very quiet for several moments. “What about Angela? I know Angela has implied that she likes you very loudly. Basically not implying anything except the sex position.”

Anakin frowns at the ceiling. “I asked. She thought maybe Obi-Wan wouldn’t want her to come along, they apparently don’t get along or something? I don’t quite understand it. I mean, whatever their beef is, not the not liking Kenobi part. Anyway, that’s basically what I told her and that it would be even more fun if Obi-Wan and her didn’t get along, because I love pissing him off, and she got sort of upset and um.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “And what?”

Anakin rolls over onto his stomach. “She dumped her lemonade on my lap? And said that it’s an asshole move to ask someone on a date just to pull someone else’s pigtails.”

There’s an even longer pause, before Padmé bursts out laughing.

“Stop it,” Anakin says. “It’s not funny. And now I don’t have a date, and I’m expected to go out with Obi-Wan tomorrow. He’ll be absolutely ruthless if I show up without a date! Please help me, Pads! I’m about to go out running in the street and asking every stranger under forty I see if they would like to date me for one day, specifically tomorrow, because I have this asshole coworker whose sole purpose is making my life a living hell by asking me to go on a double date with him and someone he apparently just asked out a few days ago because he’s so stupid and handsome and charming apparently that he can get anyone to date him at the drop of a goddamn hat because he thinks he’s God’s gift to women and men, apparently—”

Padmé has stopped laughing. “I can see why Cassie and Angela said no if you gave them the same speech,” she says. It’s not very comforting, so he stays silent and frowns into his pillow, deciding not to tell her he'd also been shot down by Rebecca, Virginia, Victoria, Sidney, and Rose.

“You could just cancel on Obi-Wan,” Padmé suggests.

Anakin bites back a scoff. Yeah, right. Why would he cancel on Obi-Wan? Then the man would know that he couldn’t find a date and that he was embarrassed about his own undateability. He’d really never let it go. He’d probably be hearing about how Obi-Wan had already picked out his nicest autumnal sweater and scarf when Anakin canceled for the rest of his life. Obi-Wan would probably remind him on his deathbed, he was a real asshole like that.

Cancel on Obi-Wan? As if.

“I can’t do that!” He tells Padmé. “Please, please. If you ever loved me at all—”

“I didn’t, that’s why we had to stop sleeping together because it got awkward every time you said it during sex—”

“--then you would give me the number of any one of your friends who is in the city and available tomorrow for pumpkin patch picking and haunted house going.”

Padmé seems to be debating something to herself because she doesn’t say anything for a very long time. “Fine.”

Anakin sits straight up in bed. “Really?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.” “You have to think—using your very big brain—about why you don’t want to cancel on Obi-Wan.”

Easy. Anakin was just thinking about that. “Done. Because he’s an asshole and like a shark but instead of blood, he can smell weakness a mile away.”

Padmé sighs and then there’s the distinct sound of a wine bottle being uncorked. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she seems to tell herself. “But fine. Fine. Her name is Sabé. She owns a bar in Georgetown, which is also where she lives.”

Anakin fights back a groan at this. Georgetown is the worst area to travel to because there are no metro stops. He’ll have to drive to pick her up, if she agrees. But Padmé will get her to. He trusts Padmé with his heart (and future happiness) even if he doesn’t love her anymore.

Anyway, maybe this will be the best meet-cute in D.C. history. What if Anakin and Sabé actually fall in love because Anakin needed a date because of Kenobi and all of the women he’s ever talked to at work declined because no one wanted to spend time with Kenobi outside of work?

“Tell me more about Sabé,” Anakin requests. “What does she like?”

“Heavy metal music, her motorcycle, getting tattoos, a good curry, pumpkin spice lattes, horror films from the Golden Age of Hollywood, long walks on the beach, etcetera etcetera.”

This woman sounds great. Obi-Wan is going to lose his mind when he sees how cool Anakin’s date is. He’s going to be so jealous. Anakin’s already half in love with Sabé just from thinking about how jealous Obi-Wan is going to be.

“That’s great,” Anakin says with a wistful sigh. “Give me her number, I’ll ring her tonight. Maybe we can meet up before tomorrow.”

“Slow down, lover boy,” Padmé says. It sounds like she’s smiling. “Don’t you want to know how I met her?”

Anakin’s brows furrow. “I guess?” Padmé has a lot of friends in a lot of different walks of life, her knowing someone who owns a bar and has tattoos isn't unbelievable.

“We hooked up in the back of her bar a few times while I was getting my master’s at Georgetown. She likes long walks on the beach, mango margaritas, baking, and women. Exclusively women.”

Anakin flops back to stare at the ceiling as his daydreams dissolve until only Obi-Wan’s smug face remains. “You suck.”

“Still want her number? I can guarantee she’ll agree. She’s got a master’s in psychology, I’m sure she’ll find this whole thing fascinating.”

Anakin doesn’t know what’s so fascinating about pumpkin patch picking, but whatever. He’s sort of desperate. “Fine. Yeah. Thanks for letting me borrow your lesbian friend for a day.”

Padmé cackles. Anakin can’t believe he’d ever loved the sound of that laugh. “Oh, Ani. You’ll be borrowing my girlfriend.”

#asks #smithsonian au #padmé hangs up and gives sabé a glass of wine #and she's like 'sorry to have to cancel our date tomorrow i know we're celebrating our 6 month anniversary' #and sabé is like aw that sucks why? #and padmé is like 'well you could view it more as....an anniversary present. i've just gotten you the most interesting lab rats' #'you'll just have to pretend to be straight for a few hours.' #sabé (huge butch): i don't think anyone could think im straight #padmé (huge bitch): just tell the redhead that you're the blond's girlfriend and he won't be able to think critically for hours #idiots to idiots intensifies #obikin

[spinchip]

ficlet writing prompt: cyrus borg has the fantastic plan of watching a horror movie with dareth so that he can pretend to be scared and get comfort/cuddles. this does not go as planned.

“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Pixal asks as she stands in her fathers kitchen.

“Of course!” Cyrus answers confidently, watching the popcorn bag spin in the microwave, “Now shoo! You know I love you but tonight I want some alone time with Dareth.”

Pixal shakes her head at his antics, “I love you too, even if you over complicate your love life. I shall go spend some alone time with my boyfriend also.”

“Have fun!” Cyrus says distractedly as he pours the popcorn into a bowl and then, once her words register, “But not too much fun!” At her retreating form.

Which is how he ends up here, sitting right next to Dareth on his plush couch, watching the newest installment of the Ghost Car series (Ghost Car 5: No Red Lights. It has a generous 35% on rotten tomatoes.) It’s all a part of Cyrus’s genius masterplan where he pretends to get scared in order to get closer to Dareth, who was very politely taking their relationship at a snail's pace. The Ghost Car movies were terribly boring with a lot of cheesy special effects and laughably fake CGI, and Cyrus had to fend off yawns as the movie progressed. It’s not as if it were a masterful work of cinema, but it just had to serve one purpose.

As the first jump scare comes up, Cyrus prepares to throw himself into Dareth's arms- but when the Ghost Car comes careening through the living room wall of the poor heroine's home, it’s Dareth who screams. The popcorn bowl goes flying, raining popcorn everywhere and breaking into pieces across the floor. Dareth’s scream ends up legitimately startling Cyrus to the point where he actually falls off the couch, landing in a heap on the floor.

“Aw, Jeeze- I’m sorry!” Dareth fumbles with the remote while Cyrus sits up, heart hammering for a totally different reason that it was supposed to.

“It’s alright- are you okay?” Cyrus lifts himself back up onto the couch, sitting down next to his boyfriend as Dareth finally pauses the movie.

Dareth rubs the back of his neck bashfully, “Jump scares get me.” He admits with an awkward chuckle. His hands are shaking.

“Come here.” Cyrus orders, holding open his arms. Dareth wastes absolutely no time diving into the hug, cuddling up to Cyrus and sighing in contentment. He relaxes into his arms until they’re fully cuddling on the couch like a couple of lovesick teens.

Not how Cyrus imagines the night going, but this works just as well.

“Er, sorry about the mess.” Dareth chuckles.

“I never liked that bowl anyways.”

#coppershipping #spinchip fic #cyrus borg #dareth ninjago #ninjago