#thought of a scene but felt it was too short for a ficlet so I just generalized it so it'd appeal to more people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bella-caecilia · 2 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where... Cora and Robert would've had their son.

Yes! We were robbed! I don't know if I'll ever commit to this weighty storyline but here is a tidbit of how it could look <3

⟫⟫⟫

His hands clasped behind his back, Robert squeezed his fingers and let his gaze flit over the rainy garden behind the floor-to-ceiling windows. His mind was turning over the words of the latest letter from the war office. These letters were his invaluable connection to the front. He wasn't there himself; he had other duties to attend to. But at least he was being kept informed.

"Robert, darling. Do you want another cup of tea?" Her voice was soft but it pierced through his thoughts sharper than any scream could have. Her fragile tenderness was such a harsh contrast to the content of his thoughts. He suspected there was more she wanted to say from the open tone of her question. But upon turning around, he registered Carson and believed that her concern was too intimate to call across the room.

He left the rain-streaked window and took the tea Carson had silently poured him. He went to stand next to an empty settee and avoided looking at Cora. On his mind was the war. He didn't want mix these images with the vision of his wife, rosy and soft and naive.

Robert held on to the saucer and the silver spoon and felt no interest in the tea whatsoever. The same words went round and round in his mind. Germany is advancing on all fronts. Reading the letters from the war office felt increasingly like a fever dream. And he wanted to put an end to it himself.

"Oh, look who is there!" Cora's cooing caught his attention in an instant once again. Robert's head shot up and he took in Nanny in the doorway with the little master on her hip. A serene calm seized Robert's mind. Finally. Arthur managed to achieve this better than anyone else.

Robert watched Nanny walk over to where Cora was seated and place the little master on his mother's lap.

"Thank you, Nanny. I will ring for you when you can pick him up again."

Nanny bowed out. Robert lifted the teacup to his lips and followed Cora's gentle gestures with his eyes. She patted little Arthur's white gown and adjusted the ruffles on his tiny shoulders. His arms were so short, his little fists so easily disappeared in Cora's palm, his feet didn't reach his mother's knees. Robert was once again in shock at how miniature everything on Arthur was. Though, he was an infant after all.

Cora lowered her lips to the crown of Arthur's head. Robert watched the scene with a moved tug in his chest. What a gift. His eyes didn't leave the innocent, embracing duo as he approached them. He discarded his teacup on a tray and carefully sat down on the other end of Cora's settee. Their eyes met for a second before they both observed their son who had taken hold of Cora's pearl necklace and purred quietly in full concentration, studying the accessory.

"Careful, dear chap," Robert said softly. "That's a favourite of your mother's."

Cora kissed the infant's dark hair again. "It's alright. I like to share it," she hummed.

Robert was enraptured by the gentle display of mother and son. He lifted his hand to his wife's face and tentatively brushed the back of his forefinger over her incredibly soft cheek. She acknowledged him with a fond, even smitten smile.

Robert was reassured that his duty here at home wasn't any less important than supporting the war. It was very different but a single look at his wife and their infant son confirmed his responsibility and the rightfulness of his staying.

⟫⟫⟫

(Funny enough, I just started working on an old WIP again that's kind of fitting the brief and kind of not... Well, it's basically an angsty s1 pregnancy AU with a twist. But more about this when I've finished this ficlet :) )

I wish you would write a fic where...

#thank you so much for the ask <3 #fic ask game #cobert #cobert fanfiction #robert crawley #cora crawley #s2 #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey season 2

28 notes · View notes

tresapes · 7 days

Text

Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #4

Prompt: Matthew recognises how much Mary supported him during his injury (with a lot some pushing from Isobel)

This one is Long. It took him a while.

Isobel was standing by the window in the library, a cup of tea in her hands, watching Matthew and Lavinia in the gardens below. Lavinia's mouth was forming words, gesturing excitedly, but Matthew was still and silent. He turned his face up towards the sky, and closed his eyes when Lavinia was looking the other way.

It was a sunny day. Maybe the sun would do him good. Shine through the shadows in his mind.

She felt someone stand next to her, and turned to see Mary with her own cup, looking out at the scene below. She found Mary to be a hard person, when she first met her. Now she knew the only thing hard about the young woman was the shell around her heart. It only made her wonder how much she hurt, how many wounds the world had inflicted on her before she shut herself away from it.

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

"Why don't I ask Carson to get us some sandwiches? You didn't eat much at lunch, did you not like it?"

"It was perfectly pleasant."

Lavinia frowned, but seemed to come to a quick decision. "Well. I'll ring for the sandwiches all the same."

Matthew didn't reply.

Carson was very prompt.

Cheese crackers with orange mascarpone and cucumber salmon squares. Matthew bit into one impassively. Lavinia looked on encouragingly.

Isobel frowned. He always preferred a sweet scone with afternoon tea. Maybe he preferred something lighter now.

He wasn't going anywhere after all, where would all that sugar go. The bitter thought hit her like a punch in the stomach and she had to ask to be excused.

Matthew didn't return her kiss goodbye.

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

"How was he today? I was needed at the hospital, and only got back a few hours ago." Isobel was bone weary and not just from the long day. Watching her child turn into a shadow of himself really took it out of her, it seemed.

"Oh, much the same. We got to take a turn in the gardens but-"

Isobel noticed the girl frown. Oh, maybe, maybe he finally talked to her. "What is it?"

Lavinia shook her head "I think I made Mary rather cross with me."

"Goodness. What happened?"

"I didn't think, I got Matthew a blanket for the cold. But it had snowed and the blanket was long and- he wouldn't know."

Isobel frowned. No. No he wouldn't know if his legs were wet and frozen. Her hands tightened on her cup and she had to leave it back on the tray, her fingers tightening on her lap under the table.

"How was Matthew, was he upset?"

Lavinia smiled then "No! Not at all. He was kind, he didn't say anything, even though it was so stupid of me. I'll know better next time."

Isobel smiled kindly to the girl, even as her heart was breaking for her son. They'd won the war, but he certainly came back from it defeated.

"I'm sure you will, my dear."

Lavinia was still biting her lower lip "I think Mary was really upset."

Isobel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Certainly, Mary Crawley would be upset. Her attentiveness and skill when she'd been taking care of Matthew would have been the envy of an army hospital.

Molesley came in to take the tea trays, and Isobel offered her future daughter-in-law another smile. "I shouldn't worry too much. I'm sure Mary… kept it all under control. And she forgives. She might bite, but she forgives. Too much like her grandmother, that girl."

She got a laugh out of Lavinia with that comment, and the girl seemed to relax.

Isobel didn't want to but the image came to her mind anyway. Mary with that fury of the Crawley line swirling in her eyes in that contained way of hers, as she took in Matthew's shoulders hunched in shame, Lavinia fumbling with the blanket, a stream of apologies as she waited for a footman to come and sort it out.

Isobel was lost in thought and didn't realise Lavinia was speaking again "… she didn't stay. I don't know if it was because I made her angry or… I think seeing Matthew like that might be upsetting for her. She's always so polite, but she never stays long if we're in a room."

Isobel nodded, absentmindedly. No. Mary wouldn't stand by and watch any of that.

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

"I was reading that."

"Well, you took too long, now I'm reading it."

"You must be joking?"

"You can't just monopolise the latest Montgomery, Matthew. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other and you seem to need as much to make friends with Anne of Green Gables. It might just be that you don't like each other."

Isobel watched from over her needlework. Matthew seemed put out, but his shoulders were relaxed. His index finger lightly tapping the arm of his chair. Like he was thinking.

"Are you friends with her then? Were seven days sufficient for you two?"

Mary lifted an imperious brow, and pointedly turned the page of the book she was holding. "Of a kind. I was a bit too old for it when the first one came out. But Sybil loved them and made me read the whole book to her."

"And now?"

Mary shrugged "It's rude not to greet an old friend when they visit."

Matthew chuckled and Isobel looked up at the sound, her heart pounding, only to see him turn his face down, and cover his eyes with his hand, rubbing his forehead. Tired. She watched Mary also sneak peaks at him from over her book, her dark eyes reading him more than the words on the page. She hid herself behind the book again, before she spoke:

"I can read it to you, if you'd like."

Matthew looked up, peeved. "I'm not a child."

She turned her eyes back to him, the imperious look back. "Of course not. But we must find some compromise, I'm not just handing this over you know."

"God forbid."

Isobel watched as they stared at each other. Matthew's finger was still tapping the arm of his chair.

"How about… I read it to you?"

Mary smirked, and offered him the book. Matthew smiled as he opened it, and Isobel could cry. He turned to the first page-

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

"How nice, that I finally get you to myself. A rare gift these days!"

Matthew offered her a small smile, and Isobel could live with that.

"Where are they all anyway?" she asked him, trying to engage him in some conversation as she took a sip of her tea.

"Robert has a meeting with the tenants. Edith and Sybil are in Ripon. You know of course Lavinia's gone to London to sort out some errands for Reggie."

Isobel nodded. Of course she knew that. The girl stayed with her after all. "And Mary?"

Matthew looked out the window. They had a lot of rain after days of snow, and the mud was making it very hard for him to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind, even if he wouldn't look at her now, a frown on his face as he watched the world outside. "She's over at Haxby. Richard came around he probably… added one horrid thing or other to the place that he wanted to share with her."

Isobel tried to move past the tone of bitterness in his voice, as much as it hurt her to do so. God knew which of all the things mentioned would be making him bitter. She placed her cup back on its saucer. She'd have to drag it out of him, whatever it was, because he wasn't willingly sharing the things that hurt him with her. Not anymore. "She must be somewhat excited, to see the place she'll call home come to life." she pushed on.

"Downton will always be Mary's home."

The answer was immediate. And final.

Isobel wished she could give her son a nice shake. "Of course. But she'll live there, what does she say, what's it like?"

"Big."

She waited, expecting some explanation.

Matthew gave a short laugh then, and turned to her, lifting his eyebrow in perfect imitation of Mary "Really. It's just big."

Isobel watched as he chuckled to himself, his eyes lost in memory.

Goodness. It was perhaps, more complicated than she thought.

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

Isobel wept the night she saw her son standing on his own two feet again. She got home, and kneeled next to her bed, and thanked God in prayer like she hadn't done since she had been a little girl. Her son. Her boy would get his life back.

It had been a few weeks since then. Matthew hadn't moved back home yet but it was only a matter of time. Isobel visited every day, even though it was a flurry of activity there, and the kind of activity that tended to be tiresome.

Some of it was inescapable, like the wedding preparations, but then a maid was hired, or one of the old footmen wouldn't leave and there was a baby in the dining room but nobody seemed to know how he got there or what to do about it, and Isobel couldn't wait to get back to the village where people had normal problems.

She had thought, now that Matthew's whole life was ahead of him once again, and his brooding moods had returned, so would his assertiveness and confidence.

Instead he was often lost in thought, plastering on a smile when he caught someone watching him. More alarming still, he was quite withdrawn as they sat in the drawing room, to discuss some wedding plans, putting on that same smile whenever Lavinia or anyone else asked a question, but always answering with some variation of "Whatever you think is best, I truly don't mind."

Isobel listened to the girl, and made as many contributions as she could, along with Cora and Edith, who had been taking tea with them and discussing plans, Lavinia's excitement being quite nice to see.

They were talking about flower arrangements when she turned to Cora "Do you think Mary could help me pick the bouquets for the bridesmaids? I'm not sure which flowers to choose from, and she knew quite a lot about them when we walked about the garden a few times."

Cora looked lost for words for a moment "Oh… perhaps, why don't you ask her? I know she's got a lot on now, with Haxby, and her own wedding to plan-"

"Plus Mary won't lift a finger for things that don't involve her - like someone else's wedding" added Edith.

Isobel heard Cora's tut at the comment, but she felt a strong, almost maternal, urge to defend the girl. "Well. I for one am incredibly grateful to her, for how she cared for Matthew when he first came back, and I wasn't here to look after him. Even though it didn't involve her."

She watched Lavinia's puzzled expression, and wanted to tut at her own son who was focusing on staring at the carpet, his face pale.

"Did Mary really look after you, back then?" Lavinia asked, very kindly.

Matthew tightened his hand on his walking stick, and swallowed visibly, all the women staring at him intently. Eventually he shook his head a rough smirk on his face, his eyes troubled "You know Mary. She won't miss a chance to push someone around."

He got a chuckle out of Edith for that comment, and Isobel was about to reprimand him when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and looked up to see Mary standing at the other end of the room, having walked through the open door, unobserved.

Isobel's hands tightened on her tea cup as Cora greeted her eldest daughter, who was walking towards them, handbag still clutched in her hands in front of her stomach, like a physical shield.

Isobel saw whatever colour was on Matthew's face leave it as he whipped his head around to stare at the object of their conversation.

Mary spoke before anyone could utter another word "Please. Don't let me disturb you I just wanted to say hello. I'm quite dusty from the trip, I think I should like to change."

Cora nodded, eagerly agreeing "Why don't you ask Anna to run you a bath darling? It's been a long day."

"Yes, I think I shall."

Isobel saw her look at Matthew, very fleetingly, before she steeled her spine and turned, walking out of the room through the same door.

Isobel did not need to wonder why Matthew didn't speak another word for the rest of the visit.

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

Matthew's foul mood persisted. For days. He'd finally moved back to Crawley House, but it didn't make any difference.

Isobel watched him stew in his misery and for once, she let him stew. He deserved it. Mary was being perfectly polite at dinners and visits. But Isobel doubted he managed to have even a moment alone with her. Maybe he finally realised that Mary Crawley did not just spend hours on end keeping a man company to lift his spirits because she had nothing better to do.

Lavinia had gone up to London for some wedding shopping, and Isobel was having breakfast with her son, as normal, for the first time in almost a year. It would have been perfect if he hadn't spent most of his time huffing behind his newspaper.

"You could just apologise, you know."

"Mother…"

"Don't "mother" me. I'm tired of your moping. Surely you can give the woman an apology, it can't be that hard. She's your friend-"

This time, a pained laughter came from behind the newspaper, and Isobel looked up. Matthew dropped the newspaper and got up, grabbing his walking stick and pacing to the window.

"If I start apologising to Mary I shall be at it for days."

"Why is that?"

"Please, mother, stop pushing. You wouldn't understand."

"Won't I? Might it have anything to do with your distinct lack of enthusiasm for your own wedding?"

Matthew turned to her, a frightened expression on his face.

"Or might it have to do with the amount of care Mary showed you, above and beyond that of even a dedicated nurse? Washing you, with Sybil. Sitting by your bedside throughout your stay at the hospital. Being there through your examinations. Being the one to break the news of you injury, of William's death. You think Dr Clarkson wouldn't give me all the details of your stay? That I wouldn't ask?"

She watched him pace in misery, and she let him wallow as she continued "… Or do you think I'd forget finding her cleaning your vomit and telling you everything would be alright? Perhaps you thought that was normal behaviour for a distant relation, I'm surprised you didn't expect Edith or Cora to do the same."

"Stop. Enough. I know this, of course I know."

"Good. Then maybe go and tell her why you told none of this to Lavinia. Or why you told Lavinia nothing of your retracted proposal to Mary, all those years ago, something that should be old history by now, shouldn't it? Instead letting Lavinia expect the poor woman to help plan your wedding."

Matthew shook his head "I wouldn't- I didn't expect-"

Isobel didn't let him misdirect her "… Or perhaps you'd like to not talk about Mary, and focus on you a little more."

Matthew covered his face with one hand, but Isobel had had enough. "Lets talk about why you only felt safe to take out your anger on Mary, and be so beastly to her, because Mary will forgive you anything, won't she? And she will put up with the moods you won't share with Lavinia. Lavinia who you will let mother you more than you've ever allowed anyone, even me, since you left the nursery. And I don't know if that should make me worry, or make me happy- that you'd allow that kind of care."

Her son's face was stricken. Isobel persisted. "But I do worry. Because it's not Lavinia that you can laugh with. Or laugh for. Even in your darkest moments. Is it? And I know you normally like an argument, my boy. So tell me. What are you doing?"

She could see his eyes flood with tears, and it broke her heart all over again. "I'm just trying to do the right thing, mother. That's all I ever wanted to do."

Isobel nodded. She knew this already. "But what is the right thing to do in this situation, Matthew?"

He shook his head, and dropped back on the chair heavily. "I'll go to the Abbey after breakfast. I'll apologise."

Isobel let out a breath. It was a start.

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

He did go to the Abbey after breakfast. But he didn't apologise.

Isobel watched him find the courage to talk every morning, and then come back empty handed. Either saying that Mary was out, or nothing at all, just shutting himself in the library and not coming out until dinner.

She had to go to the Abbey herself a few days later, hoping to discuss some hospital matters with Cora. Carson informed her that lady Grantham was visiting the dowager countess, but she'd be back soon, so Isobel found herself sat in the library, with a cup of tea, when she heard footsteps behind her.

"… time to stop harassing Carson, I doubt there's anything that significant you wish to speak to me about."

"Stop punishing me Mary, you know there is."

Isobel found herself frozen still. They hadn't seen her, the back of the armchair covering her perfectly. If she made herself known it was possible that they would postpone the conversation to the next century. But if they saw her later… Isobel decided it was a risk she was willing to take.

"Fine. Tell me now, what is it."

Isobel heard her son huff, and could practically picture the annoyance mixing with guilt in his expression "I want to apologise. For what you overheard. It wasn't true."

"I know. It's fine. There's no need for you to apologise."

"It's not fine! Mary-"

"I didn't do anything expecting thanks, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks about it. Including you. All I wanted was for you to get better, and you did, so stop with your moping."

Mary sounded tired. Incredibly so. Isobel frowned, and wondered for a moment if she had anyone in her corner. Isobel had finally managed to get through to Matthew, to try and help him untangle his life. She thought of Mary and Sir Richard, and wondered.

Matthew might have seen the same weariness, because he spoke more calmly "I'm still sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve it."

"Fine. Apology accepted. Happy now?"

"…happi-er. Does that count?"

Isobel heard Mary chuckle "I'm the wrong person to ask."

Cora's voice came in through the hall then, and they seemed to find themselves out of time, walking out to greet her.

Isobel quickly picked up her cup and moved across the room, going through the door to the small library. If Carson found her transfer strange as he led Cora to her a moment later, he didn't mention anything about it.

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

"So. Did you make things right?"

Matthew looked up from his book as she walked into the drawing room at Crawley House that evening. Her talk with Cora took longer than expected.

"It's not like you to gossip this much mother."

"I don't think of my care for your wellbeing as gossip."

Matthew looked at her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before he turned back to his book without another word.

Well. That was an improvement. "Any words of wisdom from your readings?" She said, dropping the topic for now as she took a seat across from him. He was healthy, and he was here. Everything else would sort itself out.

Matthew didn't miss a beat, turning a page and offering a quote "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."

Oh dear. There was so much more work to be done.

#mary x matthew #this spiraled #hope you guys will like the book references #there will be a lot of that #I think of those two as absolute book nerds and I'm not sorry for it #my fic #mary crawley #downton abbey #matthew crawley

16 notes · View notes

maesterchill · 7 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers!

Thanks for the tag @cassiaratheslytherpuff, it was really interesting to read your answers! And fuck, I remember that WIP about Muggles fighting Wizards and suppressing their magic, so if you ever do reignite that, hit me up!

Here are mine! (under the cut)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 112 works right now. (64 fics, 40 artworks, 4 poems & 4 podfics)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

422,153, which averages around 7k per fic... sounds about right, most of mine are short form.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter!! Various ships but mostly Drarry

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(All Drarry - All Explicit 😂) December Never Felt So Wrong, 50k, E (The memory loss one) My Heart was far too glad, 22k, E (The double mpreg birthing class one) When The Fallout Comes, 7k, E (the hand kink one) Every Day is Leg Day, 2k, E (the seven days of significant legs one) Eat Me, 11k, E (the chocolate cock one)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I'm SO grateful to people for reading and taking the time to leave me a comment, so I like to thank them for that.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely my Dron fic, Primum Non Nocere (1.8k, M). Sorry, Ron!! No HEA for you in that one 😬

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Wow that's a toughie. Most of my fics have some sort of happy sappy ending. Maybe Threads of Hope (5k, T) for the family feels and for 'Harry was happy on Halloween'. 💖

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. A few strange comments from time to time and people not agreeing with my choices for characters or plot, but nothing hateful!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't think of myself as a smut writer, only 22 of my 64 fics are rated Explicit. Nor is the smut especially kinky - have dabbled in hand kink and watersports but that's about it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not exactly, but I collabed on an LCDrarry fic/art combo that was based on the trolley scene from Meet Me in St Louis, with Draco as Esther and Harry as John.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once - into Russian. So people can now read about Гарри Поттер and Драко Малфой enjoying a hand job in the Room of Requirement.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes - quite a few! I've co-written 5 or 6 fics with @timothysboxers, I wrote a fic with 20 other authors once, which was wild, and recently wrote a little ficlet with @lettersbyelise and @sassy-cissa. Tim and I are working on another one right now - wish us luck! 😅 *sweats in writer's block* I've also collabed on 2 podfics. And have at various times and with various people participated in a fic & art collab where one of us draws and the other person writes. It's so great being creative with others!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Drarry. 🤷‍♂️

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

SO MANY. I have a lots of WIPs and some of them I *might* finish some day (or so I tell myself). But I think the George/Angelina one I started in 2018 will probably never get finished. I realise you'll all be sadface emoji about that. 😂

16. What are your writing strengths?

I really don't know. I am GREAT at starting a fic, getting the first scene and a half down. That is my superpower. I'm ok at dialogue I think?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Following on from above, I seem to have unusually great difficulty writing endings. I struggle with making things plotty, and I find it so hard to delay the smooshing together of the characters. Also descriptions of places and rooms and clothes... not my forte. (Food descriptions I'm ok with though, lol, glutton that I am)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've never thought much about it. I occasionally include a short phrase uttered by someone in another language. But not whole sections of dialogue.

Should I have opinions about this? Is there discourse here I am unaware of? 😅

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. First and only!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Like Cassiara, my favourites change every time I try to pick one! I'll go with Good Intent (12k, E) - a Jeddy fic! Ha. I don't know why but I do quite like naughty James and conflicted Teddy and the lingering love for Harry in this one. Thinking about Drarry... let's give some love too to Be careful what you hiss for (5.6k, E) - Fithy-mouthed parseltongue Harry was a lot of fun to write 🐍👅

I'll tag @citrusses @sweet-s0rr0w @basicallyahedgehog @autumnsnuggling @drarrymyheart @skeptiquewrites @xanthippe74 @cluelesspigeons @lqtraintracks @schmem14 if you want to do it (and haven't already). And anyone else who'd like to do this!

#tag game #i dont usually do these #but i had a bit of time to myself #maester blethers

19 notes · View notes

troutfur · 6 months

Note

OH! I finally thought of a possible pfurr poly dynamic scene for you, if I'm understanding your nestmate dynamics:

Graypool/Oakheart/Crookedstar post Willowbreeze's passing. The family trying to raise Silver without her mom around.

!!!!!!!

ANOTHER ONE OF THE ONES I AM THINKING OF CONSTANTLY!

I am still in the process of figuring out how to do it exactly what I want with because I want to eventually do a CrookedBlue with it but there are still some details to iron out, so take this one that approaches more canon than what I'd like my take on it to be. Helps that earlier this year I read Bluestar's Prophecy finally and I gave Crookedstar's Promise a reread.

Also Mistyfoot PoV because ??????

(Wanna submit your own prompt for a one-scene ficlet? Check out my guidelines and go right ahead. I have enough to last me all November but I'm always on the lookout for more so I can have more leeway in accepting or rejecting. Plus, right now I'm in the mood for pfurr dynamic-centric fics so if you submit a prompt including the concept I'm more likely to pick yours!)

“Mistyfoot?” Silverkit asked. “Are we eerpf?”

The blue molly felt a knot forming in her throat at the question. She knew she’d have to explain this to her baby sister eventually, having taken the initiative to take care of her while her pipfurs ran the clan and her wipfurr was taking a break to stretch her legs. But she was still processing Willowbreeze’s death herself. How could she even begin to explain this to her?

“No, minnow,” she replied, rasping at her forehead. “My wi is your pip, which means we’re myempf.” That’s short for myempfurr, which in their language that means something similar but not quite like half-sibling.

As she let herself be groomed, Silverkit gave a pensive noise before she decided to pipe up once again. “But Oakheart told me he couldn’t have kits? How can he be my wi?”

She was certain Crookedstar hadn’t told her the same thing, he couldn’t have, so the fact Silverkit immediately concluded Mistyfoot was wrong just confirmed how distant her pipfurr had become. But she had to keep up appearances, for Silverkit’s sake. “No, minnow,” Mistyfoot said. “Oakheart is my pip too.”

“Does that mean Willowbreeze is my pip then?” Silverkit asked.

Mistyfoot nodded, leaving the kit with a pensive look once again. In her head she uttered a prayer to StarClan, asking them that she be satisfied with her--.

“Why does she stay with me in the nursery if she’s not my wi?” Silverkit interrupted her.

“Wellllll,” Mistyfoot began. “She’s just not... here with us. So Willowbreeze is filling in.”

“Is she on patrol?” Silverkit asked.

“No Minnow,” Mistyfoot replied, bracing herself and trying to come up with a gentle way to explain the truth.

“So she is on a quest!” Silverkit excitedly declared. “That explains why she has not come yet!”

Mistyfoot shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s not that either...”

“Well, where is she?” Silverkit demanded, a frustration having begun to grow in her shrill kit voice. “And when is she coming back?”

“She’s not really coming back, minnow,” Mistyfoot finally said. “She may come back to visit from time to time but it’s never going to be the same.”

“Why?” Silverkit demanded. “She must do it, she is my wi!” As the tiny kit saw Mistyfoot’s expression grow longing and mournful she noticed the atmosphere shifting. “Is it because she does not love me?”

“No, no, no, no, minnow, never think that,” Mistyfoot soothed. “It’s just that StarClan called for her to join their ranks and she couldn’t deny them. So now she looks at you from above.”

Silverkit whined. “That’s not fair! She’s my wi! She should be in the nursery taking care of me!”

Mistyfoot shared the sentiment entirely. “I’m sure she is in her own way. For now you should focus on growing big and strong so one day you can be a warrior she can be proud of. Maybe when you visit the Moonstone you can see her in your dreams.”

“I will,” Silverkit resolved.

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au #mistyfoot #mistystar #silverstream #crookedjaw #crookedstar #willowbreeze #oakheart #graypool #probably not in the spirit of the prompt #but I did enjoy writing older sister and younger sister content here

11 notes · View notes

lilyliveredlittlerichboy · 9 months

Text

Harrow brainrot time

I did the thing I wanted to do so now, it is time to start my read through and liveblog of Harrow The Ninth.

But first! It's been a few days since I finished Gideon, so I just wanna round up my main feelings and take-aways from Gideon The Ninth, before I go delving into the sequel.

First up, oh my god, what an adorable goof Gideon is. I love her cluelessness. I love her horniness. I love how strong and skilled she is. I love her irreverence, her quips, her emotive narration. I hate and also love how easily she sacrifices herself for Harrow. I loved their relationship sooooooo, so much, so early on. Such interesting characters. So much trauma. My god. Hold me.

The whole "come to the first with your cavalier and become lyctor" thing seemed disconcerting at first, then kind of nice, then suddenly became almost hunger games-type horror. Upon rereading the very first bit, it seems even in the letter, the first summons, it said "Lyctors joined with their cavaliers"; that type of subtle foreshadowing is bound to hit me hard once I actually reread the whole thing, for real, which I will do, probably after I finish Harrow.

(Let me know if you want a liveblog of my reread as well... I'm hoping to find paper copies of the books before starting the reread, also because apparently there are little tidbits and short stories in the paper versions that I haven't found in the archive dot org pdf.)

Ah, what can I say. I really liked the whole book! I loved Dulcinea and her reveal came as a big shock! Ianthe's coldblooded ascension to Lyctorhood didn't come as a massive surprise (hers was a name I'd seen passed around fandom before I even started - so I always suspected there was more behind the bloodless facade in Coronabeth's shadow). I loved Palamedes and Camilla, I hope we learn what happened to Camilla as she was still alive when we last saw her.

As far as the Harrow brainrot is concerned.... ohhhhh my god Harrow. Like, I liked her from the start, as a character (if not really, at first, as a person) - what an interesting foil to set Gideon up with! But then it was revealed what huge trauma she's been carrying around with her since, basically she was born. The pool scene made me go absolutely feral. Oh my godddddd. HARROWWWWWWWW

Needless to say, I can't wait to spend a whole book with her, narratively. It might be too much to hope for, but I really hope she doesn't fare too terribly. The ending just tore me to shreds. Oh Harrow. Oh Gideon. Oh Gideon you stupid little idiot!! You lovable goof!! Why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that!! I mean, I understand why but also WHYYYYYYYYY. you get me, I'm sure.

I'm gonna attach my little ficlet that I wrote, in pain, right after finishing Gideon the Ninth; without any context whatsoever from the sequels. It's a massive projection. This is how I would be, in Harrow's situation, if I were Harrow. Take it with a pinch of salt. I just wrote this to get the hurt out.

Enjoy, and I will commence my reading of Harrow the Ninth very shortly!!

Alternative Epilogue

"No," she said.

The emperor looked at her, unmoving.

"No," Harrowhark said again. "I will not do as you please. I will not return to the Ninth. I will not be your Lyctor or your Saint. I will not. I refuse."

The emperor was still just staring at her, unflinching. “You realise,” he said, “that you have little choice now. You are a Lyctor, whether you like it or not.”

“NO!” she screamed, feeling as though the walls should have shaken with the intensity of emotions she suddenly felt. More than she’d ever felt, she thought, in her entire life.

She didn’t realise she was crying until she was crumpled to the floor like a wet tissue. Crying like she never had before, sobs shaking her morbid little body mercilessly.

“I refuse,” she bit, shaking. “No. No, I will not.”

There was no response.

An eternity seemed to pass where Harrowhark felt nothing but agony. Her body was perfectly healthy, moreso than it should have been, given the trials she’d endured. No, it was her heart, it felt shattered in a million pieces.

And she knew there was only one thing she wanted.

“Give her back,” she sobbed, hands clenching into her dissatisfactory gown. “Give her back, she’s all I have. She’s all I’ve ever had.”

“No power in the universe can return Gideon the Ninth to you now,” the emperor crooned, unaffected. Uncaring.

“You are God,” she spat. “You have all the power in the universe. You’re lying. You’re lying.”

Once again, he just watched her impassively.

“You’re lying,” Harrow said hopelessly, once again succumbing to sobs. “You’re lying. Please. Please give her back. Give her back to me, she’s all I have. Give her back. Give her back.”

She collapsed, if that were even possible, further onto the floor. Rocked by sobs, she curled in on herself, mumbling the same words again and again and again. She couldn’t even feel the gentle pressure of Gideon Nav inside her own mind. She couldn’t feel anything but herself. It was agony.

“Give her back.”

It was impossibly bright and all Harrowhark wanted to do was to hide. She hid, as much as possible, inside her own body. Eyes squeezed shut, head tucked into her armpit. Curled up on the floor in an extremely un-Harrowlike fashion.

But then again, she’d never quite lost everything before. Not like this. Not ever.

“She’s all I have,” Harrow sobbed into her own skin, “give her back.”

It seemed it was hours later that she realised she was alone.

#i need a tag for my own rambles #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth liveblog #htn liveblog #tlt liveblog #tlt spoilers #gtn spoilers #< an indication of what tags to expect from this liveblog of mine #my writing #u have to honour this momentous occasion btw. this is the first time ive written/published any fic. in YEARS #YEARS i am not exaggerating pretty sure the last one was uhh. little witch academia fic in MAYBE 2019 #harrowhark nonagesimus #harrow brainrot #griddlehark

16 notes · View notes

dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 7 months

Note

Can I ask you to write (if you feel like it and have free time, I don't want to sound imperative/demanding) a ficlet/next chapter of Blood Brother about the meeting of children with Lyle and Zdog, which you mentioned a few posts earlier?

I love the original story with all my heart but there is something special about this one shot, I totally can't stop thinking about it since I read it. I think the best thing here is Spider's quite rebellious (idk what to call it) character and how he protects his brother. The whole basement scene made me feel close to tears. I really admire your skills and creativity, and i hope you have a nice day/night 💕

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I was super proud of the basement scene when I wrote it so I'm really happy it's been so well received.

And yes I will gladly write about the boys meeting Uncle Lyle and Auntie Z 💞

########################################

Miles and Hunter were laying on the living room floor engrossed in their homework, their father sitting over them supervising, when rustling noises and the faint sound of chatting alerted the family. Miles immediately jumped to his feet and looked to his father for direction. The man waved him off. “It’s nothin’ Junior. Just your uncle and auntie comin’ up for a visit.”

“Our what now?” As far as Miles knew neither of his parents had siblings. Or at least siblings that they kept in contact with.

“They’re some of my old squad mates. My right hand man Lyle Wainfleet and your mama’s best friend Savin Zdinarsik. Z-dog for short. They’re coming up to see how we're doing. Bring us supplies and all of that.”

“Like what Pa,” Hunter asked, sitting up to innocently stare at him.

The father had to chuckle. His soon to be thirteen year old thought he was being so casual with his question but the anticipation was written all over his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Hunter pouted over that answer. His Pa bent over and playfully ruffled the boy's hair. Hunter glared at him with all the ferocity of a kitten, incredibly annoyed, but too cute for his Pa to take seriously.

Still laughing at his youngest Miles Sr stood up, motioning for his son’s to follow. “Come on boys. Let’s go say hi.”

They stood outside for only a few moments before two figures came strolling out of the foliage, one a broad bald man, the other an incredibly fit woman with a mohawk. They both broke out into wide grins at the sight of the family. “Holy shit,” Lyle exclaimed as he quickened his step towards the house, “would you look at you boys! It’s only been two months but you both already changed so much!”

Hunter cocked his head to the side, “you’ve seen us before?”

Lyle’s expression became awkward, “yeah, but y’a know the circumstances were a little different,” he laughed nervously, “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You were both kinda…asleep.”

“Were you the one who rescued me?” Hunter asked, putting the pieces together.”

Lyle’s nerves melted away at the word “rescued” instead of “kidnapped”. His smile returned even wider than before, “yeah kid I was.”

“Oh, thank you,” Hunter exclaimed, bouncing a little in place.

“You’re welcome kiddo,” Lyle turned his attention to the eldest brother. “Look at you! You actually look like a boy now without those pussy braids,” Lyle roughly ruffled Miles' hair. The teen took the teasing in good stride, rolling his eyes, but with a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Alright, alright. My turn already,” Auntie Z said, pushing Lyle out of the way. She paused in front of them drinking in their image. There was something so sad and tender in her eyes yet happy at the same time. She turned to the boys’ father, “god they look like her don’t they.”

All three members of the family felt their hearts swell. Miles Sr proudly pat both of his sons on the shoulder, “they sure do. They sure as shit didn’t get this good lookin’ from me.” The adults all laughed while the boys smiled awkwardly. “How ‘bout we head inside. I’m sure you two want to rest, grab a bite, unpack…”

“We do” said Lyle. He had a wry grin on his face that instantly told the family he was up to no good, “but we have a surprise first.”

The boys’ eyes lit up, “a surprise?” “Like what? “Where is it?” “Is it in your backpack?” “Show us!” “What is it!”

“Boys! Stop talkin’ over each other.” Their father fixed them with a stern look, instantly quieting his sons, then turned his attention to his comrades, “I’m sure whatever it is it can wait for a couple more days.” Miles Sr gave a subtle glance to the soon to be birthday boy. Hunter didn’t notice, too focused on his aunt and uncle.

“No can do boss,” said Z, “this isn’t exactly the type of thing you can keep waiting for long.”

The Colonel was instantly suspicious, “what did you two do?”

Z and Lyle’s confidence never wavered, “follow me.” Z beckoned them forward. Miles and Hunter rushed ahead eager to see what they had been brought. Their father trailed behind annoyed. They only had to walk a few feet into the tree line when they saw it. The brothers gasps, racing forward, sinking to their knees to pet the excited border collie puppy that was leashed to a tree.

Their aunt and uncle beamed down at them as they watched the kids play with the pup. She jumped into their laps, licked their faces, rolled over so the boys could rub her belly. The boys were shrieking with joy. “She’s so cute!” “How old is she?” “Does she have a name?” “Did you really get her for us?” “Do we really get to keep her?”

“Boys what did I just tell y’a about talkin’ over each other.” All the attention turned to Miles Sr. At the look of exasperation on their fathers face, the boys sobered from their excitement.

“Papa….” Hunter called, making sure he looked as wide eyed and pitiful as possible.

His father sighed, “Hunter don’t you start…”

“Papa please…” said Miles every bit as pleading as his little brother.

“Miles not you too…”

“Please Papa.” “Look at her, how can you say no to this face.” “We promise we’ll take good care of her.” “Yeah! We’ll take her on walks…” “…and feed her…” “….and give her baths…” “…and pick up her shit…”

“Alright alright, quit your begging already.”

The woods became quiet as they all waited for the fathers decision. Z was the first to break the silence. “We thought it’d be good for the boys to have a little extra company.”

“Yeah!” Lyle said, “a friend..”

The Colonel scoffed, “what do they need a friend for. There’s two of ‘em!” The brothers both shrank inward, bracing for the inevitable no. Their father noticed and lost some of his fire. “God, do you two have to look so absolutely pathetic? You’re killin’ me here! Or maybe I’m just goin’ soft. Keep the damn dog I don’t care…” His son’s where wrapped around him in an instant

“Thank you, thank you, thank you Papa!” Hunter's face was buried in his father’s torso, muffling his shouts of joy.

“Thank you so much Pa,” Miles said, tucked under his father’s chin.

Miles Sr squeezed his sons tight, “anything for you boys.”

#miles spider socorro #spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #blood brothers au

9 notes · View notes

polikszena · 2 years

Text

Dancing on the clouds below - Fresh air

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Summary: A collection of ficlets, currently centered around Bob’s and Phoenix’s friendship, and the forming relationship between Bob and Hangman. The most of them are additional scenes and storylines in a more or less chronological order.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9

Relationships: Robert “Bob” Floyd & Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Jake “Hangman” Seresin/Robert “Bob” Floyd, Jake “Hangman” Seresin & Javy “Coyote” Machado, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell & Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Chapter summary: Bob starts to get a little overwhelmed during the celebration of their successful mission. When he goes out to have some fresh air, someone follows him, but it's not who he thinks it is.

Word count: 614

Songs: Hot in Herre by Nelly

A/N: Months ago I made this incorrect Top Gun post, and that one was an outtake of this fic. Yes, I actually wrote this chapter in the summer, but since this story is sort of parallel to For a little bit of sunshine (they basically set in the same verse), I wanted to post the chapters in a more or less chronological order (this is why the Balaton fic is still in my notebook and not up here).

Fresh air

Robert “Bob” Floyd’s face was aching due to smiling that much and his brain began to feel numb after telling the same story over and over again. They were back in North Island, celebrating the successful mission in The Hard Deck. Penny organized a reception for them, and naturally, everybody wanted to know what had happened. They were all very nice, buying him drinks, but after a while it started to become a little tiring. He needed some fresh air as it was very hot inside the bar. After buying himself a glass of orange juice, he quietly slipped out of the building.

As the cool breeze hit his face, Bob closed his eyes and filled his lungs with the evening air. Being out on the empty beach felt so good after the crowded bar. He knew that all these people were there to celebrate them and their successful mission, but he still found it overwhelming and he needed some time to recharge his batteries a little. Leaning against an outdoor table, he took a sip of his drink and stared at the now dark sea.

After a short while he heard the door opening, but he didn’t turn around because he knew who it was.

“There you are.”

The naval flight officer’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t Phoenix who came after him. But Hangman.

“Are you okay?” the aviator wondered as he stepped next to him.

“Oh yes, I just needed some fresh air,” Bob admitted. “It’s getting hot in there,” he added, gesturing towards the bar.

A chuckle escaped Hangman’s mouth as he heard the boy’s last words.

“So take off all your clothes,” he sang, still laughing.

“What?” Bob asked, astonished. Hangman has been acting a little weird lately, but singing to him to take off his clothes was a bit too weird.

“You know, there is a song,” the aviator explained, still laughing. “It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes! I am getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off,” he sang, and even did a little dance as well which made Bob laugh.

Now he remembered that yes, there was a song like that, and he felt a little stupid for thinking that Hangman wanted to see him without his clothes. Why would he want that? Why would anyone want that? He was glad that in the darkness the aviator couldn’t see him blushing.

“Oh yes,” he said with a nod. “For a moment I’ve thought it’s another try to see my six-pack,” he added with a smile. “You were quite interested in it the other day.”

He hoped Hangman would also remember that conversation, because he already started feeling embarrassed for bringing that whole thing up. Now Hangman would know that it meant something for Bob. It did, because on that day he realized that Hangman wasn’t just that arrogant prick he looked like, and also because that was the first time he, Bob, could catch him off-guard. Their relationship hadn’t been the same since that day.

“Well, I just saved Rooster and Maverick,” Hangman said with a shrug, “who knows, I might get lucky again.”

“I’ve thought the word ‘luck’ isn’t in your dictionary,” Bob said.

“I save it for special occasions.”

“Like when you try to get a naval flight officer out of his shirt?”

“Yes. Exactly like that,” he said, turning to him, now being so close that their bodies almost touched. When Hangman’s eyes found his gaze, Bob smiled.

“You think I’m gorgeous,” he started singing, “you want to kiss me, you want to hug me, you want to-”

But Hangman didn’t let him finish it.

Chapter 11

***

Tagging: @askmeaboutmyobrienobsession, @bigassnocash, @fangirl-316, @xoxomandoo, @peachiicherries, @msmckawaii, @multistangirl07, @stargurl-battleship, @mattzwright If you’d like to be added to the list or removed from it, please let me know!

#top gun #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #hangman x bob #bob x hangman #floydsin #my fics #dancing on the clouds below #top gun maverick fanfiction #otp: you think i'm gorgeous #jake seresin #robert floyd

37 notes · View notes

cosmereplay · 10 months

Note

KALADIN HAIRCUT. KALADIN HAIRCUT. tell me about Kaladin haircut 🥺

So as you might recall, there's a spot in Fumbling Towards Ecstasy where Adolin has finally convinced Kaladin to get a haircut (just to his shoulders, nothing drastic). The haircut scene itself just didn't fit into the pacing of an already long ending for the fic, so I saved it to write it as a deleted scene ficlet, but never got around to it. Here's what I wrote (rated Teen, RoW spoilers):

Kaladin sat still and calm with an upright posture as the stylist cut away the darkest years of his life. I haven’t cut my hair since Rock convinced me once on Bridge Four, he thought, musing. The ends of my hair are from two years ago. It was amazing how much had changed. He’d had two lifetimes since then, from slave to Captain, from Highmarshal to surgeon. He’d given up responsibility for Bridge Four, which only existed now in the hearts of those who’d lived it. And now what? His parents wanted him to build a life, but he didn’t know how. He’d tried a few relationships which had turned out to be disasters, but now it seemed he’d found people who loved him as he was, who didn’t begrudge his weirdness, who worked with it and made him feel not so weird. Like he belonged with them. What had happened last night had been nothing short of miraculous. She loves me anyway. He loves me anyway. She had said it, but he had felt it last night, and it took feeling it to believe it. He wanted to show them how he felt. He didn’t know how, but somehow trying and failing didn’t seem so scary anymore. The stylist stepped back. “That’s it,” she said, giving him one last run through with her fingers. Being touched like this by a stranger was very odd, but he found it wasn’t painful like he had been expecting. “Here, take a look,” she said, and proffered a mirror. Syl, who had been mimicking the stylist, squealed. Kaladin looked at himself. His hair had been washed and brushed, and Adolin had been right - without the frizzy ends, his waves fell together better. Without the brands, he didn’t look half bad. He was a new man, the kind of man that, perhaps, good things could happen to. He nodded and handed the mirror back. “Thanks, it feels good,” he told her. Adolin ran up to him, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, I’m not catching on any tangles!” he exclaimed. “And it looks so good too! And see?” He pulled his hair back behind his head, pulling it into a tie. “It still pulls up into a tail, just like you wanted!” Kaladin chuckled and waved Adolin out of his face, only to have Shallan touch him. “Kaladin, you look younger than me!” she said. “Kaladin, you look great!” Syl exclaimed. She flew around him with joy. “See, you can trust them! They’re good belayers!” Kaladin nodded. “How does it feel?” Shallan asked. Kaladin shook his head back and forth, feeling the ends brush his shoulders. “It feels lighter,” he said, “but it’s weird. It reminds me of running bridges. I guess it was the same length then.”

#ask games #ask answered #row spoilers #my fic

9 notes · View notes

lothiriel84 · 5 months

Text

So Pure in Thought and Word and Deed

He was, in short, the spitting image of her husband, and she felt all the joy she had longed to share with him slip through her fingers and shatter to the ground at her feet.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Darcy/Elizabeth, with Georgiana featuring prominently in her own right.

Not five months into their marriage, Elizabeth began suspecting that she might be with child. Thinking it prudent not to give her mother cause for any premature excitement, she wrote to her aunt Gardiner instead, and promptly received confirmation that, while it was still too soon to tell, all the signs pointed in that direction.

Her heart full of joy at the prospect, she elected to take a long walk to steady her nerves before breaking the news to her loving husband. As she skirted the small farm at the far side of the park, she was surprised to find Mr Darcy’s favourite mount tied to the large oak tree standing in front of the house. Given that her husband had announced he would be away on business for the entire day, she was quite puzzled as to what his horse could be doing there, and without much consideration on her part, she found herself taking a turn around the modest yet well-kept garden.

What she found there left her floundering in confusion at first, and then outright dread as the full implications of the scene presenting itself before her eyes started to sink in. There stood Fitzwilliam, bouncing a small child in his arms; the boy could be anywhere between one and two years of age, with a head of dark curls and the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. He was, in short, the spitting image of her husband, and she felt all the joy she had longed to share with him slip through her fingers and shatter to the ground at her feet.

Scarcely knowing where she was going, she fled as quickly as her legs would carry her; it was hours later when she eventually found her way back to Pemberley, where she immediately locked herself inside her chambers, ignoring Georgiana’s worried entreaties that she at least consented to have a tray sent in.

If her husband had come to check on her upon his return later that evening, she did not know, as she had finally succeeded in crying herself to sleep. In the morning she took herself downstairs with something akin to bitter resignation, feeling as if all the happiness they had shared up until that moment had been nothing but a lie, and there was nothing left for her to look forward to anymore.

“Elizabeth, my dear, have you been unwell?” Fitzwilliam enquired, ever solicitous of her, and it was enough to stoke the embers of her anger once more, despite her better efforts.

“It is none of your concern, Sir,” she replied with an icy coldness that verged on dangerous. “I would not have you concern yourself on such trifling matters as your wife’s health.”

Mr Darcy looked as if he had been slapped, and could not seem to find the words to express his confusion at such an abrupt change in her manners towards him. “If I have done something to offend you, Madam, I am deeply sorry for it – though I confess I am thoroughly in the dark as to the nature of my offence.”

“Then let us talk about it no more. I find I have lost my appetite, so please excuse me if I retire to my rooms.”

Not ten minutes later, there was a knock at her door, and she once again expressed her wish to be alone, even in the face of Georgiana’s clear distress.

“Elizabeth, please,” her sister-in-law pleaded through the door. “Whatever the nature of your quarrel, I feel sure it is nothing but a misunderstanding. And you have not eaten since yesterday morning, you cannot go on like this, especially – in your condition.”

That sweet, innocent Georgiana would figure out her secret before anyone else was something Elizabeth could not have anticipated. Still, she felt entirely too frazzled to face her new sister’s concerns, as well-meant as they were, and merely repeated that she required some rest; Georgiana, she felt sure, was too well-bread to reveal anything of so delicate nature to her brother, and that was the only think that mattered at the moment.

She did not emerge from her voluntary seclusion for the next two days, though she accepted the trays that were sent to her rooms with absolute punctuality. The mere notion of food revolted her, but she needed to think of her child, if nothing else; it would not do to visit the sins of the father upon such an innocent creature as she was, in all likelihood, carrying inside herself.

Fitzwilliam looked as startled as she had ever seen him when she finally made an appearance for tea. Still, she refused to meet his gaze, taking her place beside Georgiana instead.

“Am I allowed to enquire how much longer do you plan to refuse to speak with your own husband, Elizabeth?” he asked of her in a low voice, barely waiting for his sister to excuse herself from company, after pleading a headache that would have scarcely fooled anyone.

“That’s rich coming from you, Sir,” she shrugged, turning the full force of her irritation onto the slice of bread she was buttering. “I would have thought it congenial to your sensibilities, as you clearly appear to have kept something of much import from your own wife.”

“I wish you would stop speaking in riddles, Madam,” Fitzwilliam replied, with a touch of his old temper. “Speak plainly, and I promise I shall address any concern you might have about this marriage.”

Elizabeth considered him for a long moment, wondering how he could act the part of a gentleman with such well-practiced ease when he clearly was not. “Why have you never told me about the child? I think I could have born the proof of your past conduct much better, had I been informed of it directly, rather than having to discover it for myself.”

All colour left his cheeks, and he stood up abruptly, glancing down to her in something akin to fear. “You have been to Mrs Goddard’s farm, have you not?”

“I see you are not even making an attempt to deny it,” she stated with a sort of forced calm, clutching at her teacup so tightly that a detached part of herself wondered whether it would shatter in her grip. “I should be grateful for that, I presume. Tell me, is his mother so below you in station you could not bring yourself to act as any honourable man would, or were you so concerned about losing the good opinion of society as to abandon your own flesh and blood to protect your reputation?”

“It is not as you think it is, Elizabeth,” he forced out with some difficulty, and there was something so pained about his countenance that she almost felt sorry for him.

“Enlighten me, then. How, pray tell, are you going to explain the presence on your own estate of a child bearing such startling resemblance to yourself?”

She had the momentary satisfaction of seeing her husband, always so in command of himself, falter before her very eyes. And yet, she did not feel so much vindicated as she felt utterly devastated in the face of such blatant disregard for her natural feelings on his part. “The secret is not mine to tell. I cannot, I will not betray their confidence, not even for your sake.”

“That’s a very pretty excuse, Sir, but you cannot seriously expect your wife to content herself with letting matters slide, as if it was nothing.”

“Nor can you expect me to go back on my own word,” he pleaded with her, to no avail. “I am not guilty of the sin you’re so keen to ascribe to me, but that is all I am allowed tell you in good conscience.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other, I find. Good day to you, Sir.” She pushed away from her chair, and was halfway across the room when she very nearly collided with Georgiana, as pale as a ghost, who had apparently rushed in at that very moment.

“I will not stand for this a moment longer,” she cried out in such anguish that gave even Elizabeth pause. “If you will not tell her, Fitzwilliam, then I shall, and you cannot stop me.”

“Georgiana,” her brother entreated her, crossing the room in two swift strides, and reaching out for her arm as if to command her to silence.

Georgiana, however, would not be swayed. “Robert is not Fitzwilliam’s son.” Her voice broke quite pitifully, yet she bravely soldiered on. “He’s his nephew. There, I have said it – despise me, if you will.”

It took several moments for the full import of her sister-in-law’s words to register with Elizabeth. When they did at last, she found she was very much in need to sit down, and was only able to do so thanks to her husband, who very firmly escorted to the nearest chair.

“I am so very sorry,” was the only speech she could manage, as Fitzwilliam pressed a glass of water to her lips, coaxing her to take small sips until her fainting fit had passed. “Oh, I shall never forgive myself, for as long as I shall live.”

“You could not have known,” Georgiana shook her head, and although she still looked very pale and distressed, she offered Elizabeth the faint suggestion of a smile. “I could not bear to be made to marry his father, not after learning of his true intentions towards me. Fitzwilliam has been so very understanding throughout all this; he has done what he thought best to preserve my reputation, all the while ensuring that the child is well looked after, and he shall never want for anything in his life.”

“You see now why I could not tell you, Elizabeth? I do own that it did not sit well with me, to keep such a thing hidden from my own wife, and that I had not stopped to consider what sort of conclusions you might reach, were you ever to find out – but I admit I had hoped you would trust my word as a gentleman, if nothing else.”

“I beg your forgiveness, Sir,” she spoke very quietly, much ashamed of her earlier assumptions. “I allowed my fears to run away with me, and I have no excuse for accusing you so unjustly, save perhaps – but now is not the time, not when you have every cause to be displeased with my conduct.”

Georgiana surprised them all by throwing her arms around her neck. “He shall be so very happy, I feel sure. I know that I am, for both of your sakes.”

With that, she fled the room for good, leaving a very bemused brother to search his wife’s gaze for anything in the way of an explanation. What he found there, Elizabeth did not precisely know, but it seemed enough for his entire countenance to light up in a manner even she herself had seldom had the good fortune of witnessing before.

“Oh, my love,” he all but choked out, gathering her to himself and pressing his lips very tenderly to her brow. “When?”

“Next winter, I believe,” she told him in a voice much trembling with emotion, giving herself up at last to the comforting warmth of his embrace.

#Pride and Prejudice #Elizabeth Bennet #Mr Darcy #Georgiana Darcy #Elizabeth/Darcy #alternate universe #canon divergence #family secrets #brother-sister relationship #I wrote a thing #It's a Sin (series)

6 notes · View notes

incandescentflower · 1 year

Note

Could I request 31 from the hugs list for RJ and Alex? I love the prompt fills you've done so far, they're like crack to me

hey anon! thanks for the ask. I've had a busy week so I've been trying to get this going for you and also not have it be an absolute mess

I'm glad to hear you enjoy my ficlets! I am starting to wonder how much schmoop one person can write about one show, but I'm willing to push my limits here. (and have a history in the past of doing so in other fandoms, *cough* cherry magic *cough*)

This is for RJ/Alex for number 31 from the hugs prompt list which is hugging while straddling the partner. I have to say, I have written a lot of sm*t and this is definitely only a T rating but the logistics of this was a challenge. :) Hope it works!

(Any other prompts, I have steadily been getting to work on, so if you sent me something, it's still in my queue!)

For this post: send me a prompt number from one of these lists and characters for My Tooth Your Love and I'll write a short scene.

Also on AO3 and all my other my mtyl one shots.

Tell me what you want

RJ was trying to appear calm. He knew it wouldn’t be good to show Alex how much he was freaking out about being in his apartment. He had never imagined he’d get to see it, let alone be invited to it.

Being inside, it was exactly what RJ would expect from Alex’s place. Minimalist. An open studio apartment with a chair and some book shelves, a galley kitchen and a good sized bed. RJ’s eyes slid over the last object unable to not picture Alex waking up in it in the morning, his hair all disheveled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. RJ wanted to see it so badly.

And now he thought maybe someday Alex would want him to see it too. He had kissed him back. He had said he liked having him around. For Alex that was practically a proposal.

When they were together back at the restaurant, things felt normal, like nothing had changed between them. Alex still kinda lectured about things. RJ still kinda listened.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. It was like they had meant to step over a line, but still had their toes on it.

Until that night Alex said, “Do you want to come over for a bit after we close?”

That was a few hours ago. RJ had been in complete and utter internal panic ever since. Still, he smiled and nodded in agreement. There was no way he was going to miss this chance.

Except, now that RJ was in there, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to sit, how to hold his body. He couldn't figure out why his hands felt so heavy, why his arms felt like they didn’t belong hanging at his side.

“Just give me a minute,” Alex said, leaving to go into the bathroom.

RJ tried to figure out what to do with himself before Alex got back. It felt awkward to sit in the single chair and it was piled with a bunch of random stuff, anyway. The bed was clear and neatly made. But sitting there seemed pretty presumptuous. So RJ just kinda stood there for a few minutes until Alex returned.

Alex looked so much more relaxed than RJ had ever seen him when he reappeared. He was almost always wearing his work clothes when RJ was with him, a smart vest and sleeve garters. RJ hadn’t even known what those were until he had met Alex. Admittedly, RJ liked the way Alex looked in those clothes. It was something that had preoccupied his mind often. But RJ liked this too. Alex was now wearing a long sleeve jersey shirt that hung a little loose on him, but caught on his shoulders in a way that made RJ feel warm.

“You can change if you want,” Alex said, pointing to the bathroom.

RJ had trouble for a moment, trying to separate Alex's presence and thoughts of clothing being removed from getting entangled. When he regained his focus he said, “That’s okay, I changed before we left,” unzipping his coat and revealing his t-shirt.

Alex nodded and went to the kitchen for a minute, opening the cupboards and clanking around in them. RJ’s eyes landed on a guitar that was sitting in the corner of the room. He called over to Alex, “Can I take a look at this? The guitar?” He hadn’t found Alex to be particularly guarded with his space or belongings, but instruments could be sacred for some musicians. RJ was mostly fascinated because he didn’t even realize Alex played.

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” he said, shutting a cupboard and opening the fridge.

RJ picked up the instrument and decided it was best if he sat on the floor, settling in next to a small little coffee table. He strummed it gently. It was in tune. It wasn't an instrument simply there for show.

Alex finally brought back a couple of drinks into the living area and set them on the coffee table. RJ was a bit surprised when he leaned down and sat on the ground beside him. Alex was right next to him, their knees almost touching.

He didn’t know if Alex meant it, but it felt the same as the closeness RJ felt when they had kissed. There was plenty of room around them but he had sat down there with RJ.

Alex reached for his own drink and took a sip as RJ kept idly strumming a tune he had learned a while ago. RJ didn’t play a lot, but he enjoyed strumming and thinking up tunes when he had a guitar to do it with. His parents didn’t really want him to play. They thought it was a waste of time.

Alex put his drink back on the table and shifted his body back so that he was propping himself up on his arms, his legs stretched out next to RJ, their knees still almost touching.

“That’s nice,” Alex remarked, nodding along. “I didn’t know you played.”

“I didn’t know you played,” RJ said, letting the guitar drop into his lap.

Alex let his head shift back and forth in a weird, very relaxed kinda indication that he didn’t take his playing too seriously, which couldn't be true. RJ didn’t think there was anything Alex didn’t take seriously.

RJ was tense. His hands weren’t steady enough now to keep playing, He carefully set the guitar next to him on the floor, out of the way. He then grabbed his own glass of water and took a big gulp, his throat suddenly intensely dry.

“Whoa there, thirsty much?” Alex asked with a half smile. RJ’s heart flipped. Alex made him feel so many things even stone-faced and closed lipped. Alex smiling would be the death of him.

“Must be a little dehydrated,” RJ said,clearing his throat and setting the empty glass on the table.

“You should take better care of yourself,” Alex said, nudging RJ’s leg with his foot.

RJ glanced toward where Alex made the contact, taking a moment to comprehend Alex's action.

“What?” he asked, pushing RJ harder with his stocking feet.

“You’re so bossy,” RJ said.

Alex slid his foot to push more on RJ’s legs, continuous little insistent presses that were clearly intended to irritate him.

He couldn't believe Alex was messing with him like this. “Cut it out,” RJ said, now flustered.

Alex smiled so much bigger when he said, “Make me.”

RJ didn’t even think, the way they were being, the lines that had been crossed. He wasn’t sure if there should be space between them anymore, but RJ didn’t want there to be.

He moved forward, climbing onto Alex's legs and pining them down. Alex sat there still, simply observing RJ’s shift to sitting on his thighs. He didn’t protest or act like it was strange, he just looked squarely back at RJ.

“I…is this okay?” RJ asked. He had been the one to push things between them often, and when RJ stopped to think about it, he wished he hadn’t. He didn’t like feeling unsure of what Alex wanted. The fact that Alex had kissed him should have made things clear, but things still felt uncertain.

In a swift movement, Alex raised his legs, forcing RJ to tumble forward, his upper body falling against Alex’s chest. RJ tried to stop himself with his hands, but really all he could do was grab onto Alex’s shoulders to keep from falling face first into him. Alex pushed himself to sit up, catching RJ and basically shifting him into his lap.

They both froze for a minute, holding each other this way. RJ’s mind hadn’t caught up with their reorientation and it was almost impossible to comprehend that RJ was now straddling Alex, his arms securely around RJ’s waist, RJ’s arms finding stability by wrapping around Alex’s neck.

Still, this felt a lot more certain.

“Why are you suddenly shy?" Alex asked. "You were the one who kept coming after me,." He kept looking directly at RJ. The way their eyes met, it collapsed in on RJ. He was given over to it. All he could do was stay where he was, his arms wrapped around Alex, breathing in Alex's scent and feeling Alex all around him, strong and solid.

“I wanted to let you decide what you wanted,” RJ said. “You hadn’t said anything since the kiss. I wasn’t sure.”

“Then why don’t you ask?” Alex said, plainly. “He Qing-Tian, you say I hide, but then you keep things to yourself too. I can’t read your mind.”

The words hit RJ because Alex was right. He had thought Alex stopped talking, but what he hadn’t realized was that he had stopped talking too.

“You have to tell me when you’re unsure,” Alex said, and he pulled RJ into his arms, bringing him forward to press their foreheads together.

“Okay,” RJ said, almost in disbelief that they were together like this. “I will. But can you please try to tell me what you want sometimes? I need you to tell me too.”

“I want to hold you like this,” he said. “I want you to stay like this. I want to be together.”

RJ exhaled. He tightened his arms around Alex and said, “I want that too.”

#my tooth your love #my tooth your love fic #alex/rj #asks #anon #ask games #writing games #writing prompts #ficlet #my fic

13 notes · View notes

daintyduck99 · 1 year

Note

Writing ask game!! 17, 37, 47, and 49 haha

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

There are SO many song-based AUs that I would just devour. A lot of them are based on country songs (the Rulie epistolary if I ever actually finish it, based on Something Like That, put on that old song of course, and what @jmrothwell is planning to do with Fearless and Kissed You (Good Night), all of which I am super excited about). Like, listening to country always runs the risk of giving me a new idea because it's a genre that's full of such rich narratives. Help XD

Then I guess I also have lucky enough to love you now where it was inspired by Brandy (You're A Fine Girl), which I had to write even though it's only a snippet of a much larger 'verse.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

I have to go with I Know It With All My Heart, the Stranger Things fusion ficlet that I wrote after @innytoes and I came up with that AU. Not many people seemed very interested in it, which is fair, given that it's basically the JatP characters in that setting and I only felt like writing This One Scene, but I really like how it turned out! There are a lot of short, punchy sentences and I think they really capture the depth of Luke's emotions (and his conflict with his parents).

47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

I'll go with lucky enough to love you now because I was just talking about it and it's in my head now, haha

This story is your favorite pair of shoes. Well-worn, comfortable, a great go-to for just about any outfit. Sure, you've had more than one pair of favorite shoes, but they're all still your favorite, and you hang on to them even when everyone says you should throw them away. You still remember them fondly no matter how many new favorites you accumulate. These shoes give you a ridiculous amount of dopamine. They're awesome. They fit perfectly.

(Please tell me about your actual favorites now because I'm curious!)

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

So the two big things I'm currently working on for Julie and the Phantoms are the canon compliant Rulie fic where they fall in love while listening to Fearless and the Peterpatterlina fake dating AU.

Here's a snippet from the former (tentatively titled have you ever thought just maybe for the time being):

"Hey, Julie?"

She blinks, shaking herself out of her stupor. Her face feels too hot. She doesn't mean to keep looking at his mouth, it's just—he really does have such a beautiful smile. It's softened into something sweet and quirky, not unlike how he'd smiled at her right after they met.

There's no such thing as cute ghosts.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

"If we do this, I absolutely expect you to learn how to fiddle. A promise is a promise, Molina."

She shrugs, mirroring his smile. It's easy now that she knows him.

"And you'll be on the hook for listening to eight more albums. A promise is a promise, Peters."

#fic asks #about ash's fics #thanks for asking! ❤️#please do tell me about your shoes lol #also I have a condensed version of that snippet for my tentative summary for the fearless fic #maybe it's a bit too long but I don't care lol I love it

7 notes · View notes

itsmoonpeaches · 1 year

Text

my 2022 writing year in review!

Thank you @chocomd , @northerngoshawk, and @flameohotwife for the tag!

1. Number of stories posted to Ao3: 1 Rurouni Kenshin oneshot, 5 ATLA/LOK oneshots, 1 ATLA multichapter WIP, 2 ATLA/LOK multichapters, 1 Harry Potter oneshot, 1 Love Like the Galaxy oneshot, 1 River Where the Moon Rises oneshot, 5 Extraordinary Attorney Woo oneshots, 7 ATLA/LOK ficlets in Little Moments

2. Word count this year: 103,694

3. Fandoms I wrote for: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, Rurouni Kenshin, Harry Potter, Love Like the Galaxy, River Where the Moon Rises, Extraordinary Attorney Woo

4. Pairings: Aang/Katara, Hakoda/Kya, Kenshin/Kaoru, Woo Young-woo/Lee Jun-ho, Cheng Shaoshang/Ling Buyi, Princess Pyeongang/On Dal

5. Stories with the most:

Kudos: Ocean Waves, an Extraordinary Attorney Woo oneshot

Bookmarks: same as above

Comment threads: Reprise, an ATLA/LOK multichapter

Word count: The Wisps Sing, an ATLA/LOK multichapter

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Monarch. Even Though it's a WIP still and will be continuing on in 2023 and finishing, it is by far the most complicated fic I've ever attempted. It's essentially an original story with original characters even though it has a few characters from canon (namely Azulon and Sozin) who are involved. Since we barely know anything about either of them, I've had to come up with nearly everything while still sticking to ATLA canon. The amount of strings I've had to keep track of is crazy too, what with all the plotting within the court and intrigue.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): Probably Moon River, which is a River Where the Moon Rises oneshot. In hindsight, it might be kind of boring. It was born out of all the feelings I had after finishing that kdrama, but in a way, it was fun to write because at the time I had never written for a kdrama before.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: Ok honestly 2022 was such a blur to me. I didn't really pay attention to reviews in a way that I probably should have. I guess the most memorable feedback would be from @benwvatt who I noticed was a newer person who more consistently appeared reading my things and I was so very excited to have a new person.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: To be honest, 2022 was very hard for me in general. So, the whole year. There were times I couldn't focus on one fic or the other and jumped around a lot, hence the fandom jumping and the lack of Monarch completion or fics I was supposed to finish but couldn't. In order to combat this, I ended up writing short things like 1k oneshots or ficlets.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Azula. I know that this fic is not yet posted and it's still in progress, but writing from her POV is like a wake-up call because I need to delve into places I don't understand. This is one of those fics that has yet to be finished but that I wrote much of in 2022.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

This scene from The Blue Morning of Jeju Island, an Extraordinary Attorney Woo oneshot. It's from a fic that is one of my favorites from 2022. I feel like this scene feels very them (Woo Young-woo/Lee Jun-ho) in a way that I cannot explain, and it felt so sweet writing this:

When they reached the end of the boardwalk where a few steps led down to the sand, he paused. She stopped next to him. He glanced over at her.

"I'm going to take off my shoes," he remarked. His lips were quirked upward on one side. He had not stopped looking so content. At least, that's the expression she thought it was.

She tried to imagine the pictures of the faces her dad made that were taped to her closet door. Calm eyes, a steady demeanor, always on the edge of a smile. Yes, Jun-ho had to be expressing contentment.

"Why would you do that?" she asked. "The sand will get stuck in between your toes and your feet will get dirty."

He laughed. "You're right," he agreed, "but it would be nice to feel the sand. It's soft and comforting."

She watched him slip each foot out of his sneakers, then he pulled off his socks. He swiveled around to face her, holding out a hand.

"Ready?" he asked.

She stared at his proffered hand. He must have known she might not take it.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I think I stepped out of my comfort zone a lot. There was a blessing in disguise in my stepping away from writing exclusively ATLA/LOK fics. I got to experiment with different settings and characters and cultural experiences I was not so used to and that allowed me to become more well-versed in descriptions and research.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: I want to keep writing for other fandoms. I want to write more family fics and found family fics. I've written way too much for pairings. I also want to continue to stretch my legs when I write for court intrigue because that's always complicated.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@chocomd for sure. (Shout out to her wonderful now COMPLETE multichapter Kataang fic, Drag You Down!) We got to talk a lot this past year and I feel like asking her for advice here and there had pushed me further, and even reading her own stuff I had the privilege of being beta for allowed me to explore other styles of writing. I got to see how she wrote on a deeper level, and in turn that influenced how I might decide on writing things.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Liquid Courage was concieved because of a dumb drunk text I wrote when I said "fruneshop" instead of "friendship" on Discord.

Snow Drifts was influenced somewhat by some real-life experiences.

Additionally, the ficlets Horizon Line, Night Line, and Dawn Line had a lot of real-life aspects.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I'm just going to quote what @chocomd also said:

Show, don’t tell! If your writing doesn’t feel as compelling as it should, you’re probably doing too much telling and not enough showing. Describing actions, emotions, dialogue, even introspection and exposition, is far, far more interesting and effective than telling. Telling has its place, usually to clarify an idea, provide a summary, or invoke resonance - but only AFTER showing, and it should be done sparingly.

Now something just from me:

Don't be afraid to break out of your comfort zone. You will never grow as a writer if you continue to write the same things over and over again. If you have an idea for something very different, go for it! It takes a lot of effort and time to do something you don't normally do, but you will end up being better after it.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Monarch for sure. Plus all the oneshots that I said I was going to finish but couldn't. I also want to finally jump into those found family Naruto fics.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read:

It's already 2023 so I hope this still counts? I'm tagging whoever I think wasn't tagged or who hasn't done it before.

@shameaboutthedilettantism, @kataangisforlovers, @nyamadermont, @invaderk, @coyotelemon and anyone else who would like to answer!

#tag game #late 2022 in review #2022 in reivew

10 notes · View notes

twdsunshine · 2 years

Text

The Many Faces Of Norman Reedus - Harry Odum, Six Ways To Sunday

Summary: A series of short one-shots based on different characters portrayed by Norman Reedus. Harry accompanies Pinkwise to a brothel to celebrate, after proving his loyalty to his employers.

Pairing: Harry Odum x Reader

Warnings: Prostitution, language

Word Count: 2,073

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note: Six Ways To Sunday is a weird film. I found it pretty hard to warm to most of the characters, and only Norm’s little baby face kept me watching. However, the brothel scene is where I really felt for him. So, in this little ficlet, you’re a hooker. I hope that’s okay! And poor Harry doesn’t quite know what he wants. Enjoy!

*****

It was always a lucrative night when Pinkwise showed up. The elated murmurs of the other girls created a buzz of excitement as you queued in front of the single mirror in the bathroom, waiting for your turn to slick crimson over pouting lips and add another coat of mascara to spidery lashes. Abie never came alone, always joined by several of his men, and he tipped well for the service you provided. There had been a time when you’d felt shame about that service, parting your legs for the means to pay rent and keep yourself afloat, but that was long past, and you’d become hardened to it to the point of actually enjoying the work when the clients were respectful, gentle. You knew how to appeal to their caring natures now, their desire to protect, to teach and lavish you with affection, widening your eyes and catching your bottom lip between your teeth, playing the innocent so that they would feel guilty if they became too forceful, too rough with you. You were a delicate flower, and they could crush you if they lost control. It was a risky game, but, more often than not, it worked.

Slinking out into the main room, tugging at the bottom of your dress as it danced around the tops of your thighs, you paused for a moment to take in the group of men gathered on the plush couches. Most of the faces were familiar - regulars, dropping by whenever they had something to celebrate or commiserate - and their eyes were hungry as they roamed over you, but there was one that you didn’t recognise. Unlike the others, his gaze was fixed on his knees, his fingers clasped tightly together in his lap, and all you could see of him was a mop of blond hair on top of a dated blue suit. His frame was slight, and, from the hunch of his shoulders, you guessed that he was young, but you were surprised by just how young he seemed when he finally lifted his head to look your way. His skin was pale and unlined, a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, a dark mark against the rosy pink of his blush, and you would be surprised if he even needed to shave. He was so out of place that you found that you couldn’t tear your attention away from him, and you kept your approach slow, so as not to alarm him, as you lowered yourself down to sit at his side.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you greeted him, only to be met with a shy glance from the most piercing blue eyes you thought you’d ever seen. They lingered on your own for a moment, before dropping to your lips, then further south to drift over your cleavage before returning to his lap once again. “Haven’t seen you in here before. Your first time?”

He nodded, and Pinkwise slapped a hand on his shoulder, startling him so that he lurched forward away from the touch.

“Need one of you ladies to show my new guy here a good time,” the boss announced, and the young man visibly cringed. “We’re celebrating!”

“Reckon I can do that,” you told him, keeping your voice low, calm and soothing. “If I’m your type, I mean.”

“I- I don’t really have a type,” he admitted, and you smiled in encouragement, glad that he was using his words. Watching carefully for his reaction, you reached across and slid your hand over his, lacing your fingers together when he turned his palm up instinctively in response.

“You wanna come with me?” It was a sultry double entendre, designed to entice, but, it seemed, he was oblivious. He nodded again, regardless, and let you coax him to his feet, drawing him along with you as you left the hum of conversation behind and headed along the corridor to the bedrooms.

Everything about him screamed reluctance, and you wondered idly if he was a virgin, but you knew better than to ask, instead, letting the door click shut behind you and motioning for him to take a seat on the bed.

“I- I don’t really know how this works.” He spoke with a soft, lilting tone, and you found yourself warming to him and his enchanting naivety.

“It works however you want it to,” you assured him, but, if anything, that only seemed to make him more uncomfortable. “Okay, how about we just take off our clothes and get into bed, huh? Just see what happens?”

Another nod, and you reached for the hem of your dress, easing it up your body and tugging it over your head. You were bare beneath the fabric, a device to save time since most of your clients were in a hurry to get you naked, but his head snapped away from you as soon as you were revealed to him, and he practically threw himself across the room, pacing nervously along the far wall. Kicking off your heels, you scurried towards the bed and crawled beneath the covers, hiding yourself away in a bid to ease his panic.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to look. You don’t have to touch, if you don’t want to. This is all on your terms.”

“Wh-what would we do if we didn’t… do that?” he asked, the tremor to his words making your heart clench for the poor boy. You wondered what he was even doing there, but that was another question you’d learnt long ago not to ask.

“We can just talk.”

“You- you wouldn’t mind?”

“I get paid either way, sweetie.” You shrugged. “Like I said, you’re running this show.”

“You won’t tell?” You dragged your fingers over your mouth, miming out zipping it closed, and he seemed to relax then, the tension leaving his broad shoulders in a loud exhale. “Alright then.”

He moved closer, perching on the edge of the mattress, and you pulled the covers up to your chin, wrapping your fingers in the soft cotton. “Are you…” You tailed off when he turned his sharp gaze on you before pushing on. “Are you not interested in women?”

“I- I don’t know.”

“Well, are you interested in men?”

“I don’t know that either,” he confessed. “I- I think I might not be interested in anyone. It’s not… normal, is it?”

“What’s normal?” you retorted with a giggle, and his cheeks flushed again, the colour burning up to the tips of his ears. “Maybe you won’t know until you’ve tried, right? Or maybe you’re a late bloomer. Or maybe you just won’t ever be interested. It’s nobody’s business but yours, if you ask me.”

“I am asking you.” He twisted so that he was facing away from you, kicking off his shoes and shuffling up the bed to press his spine against the padded headboard. “I figure you’re probably gonna know better than anybody, I mean, doing what you do.”

You swallowed hard, sneaking a hand across the space between you to take his once again, his palm clammy with sweat against your own. “You know, this is a safe space if you want to try anything, just as an experiment or something. Just to see…”

He stared at you for a long moment, the cogs whirring behind those beautiful blue irises, and then he nudged his nose up in what you could only assume was consent.

“Use your words, sweetheart. I don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“O-okay.” His voice was shaking again, and you gave his fingers a tight squeeze. “Yeah, we can… We can try.”

He was still as a statue as you closed the distance between you, frozen in place, and you gave him a final chance to push you away, lingering in his space for several long seconds before finally leaning forward and brushing your lips over his. He jolted as if he’d been stung, and you paused, sharing breath, letting him process what was happening before, with a small sigh, he melted against you and began to kiss you back. And it was sweet, almost too sweet, so that you found yourself inching closer and drinking him in, whimpering softly when he broke away, breathing hard.

“Well?”

“That was… nice,” he hummed, and then he was kissing you again, nervous at first before he got lost in it. And, though you would never admit it, you were lost too, forgetting where you were, what this was, that he wasn’t yours and never would be, because he kissed you like you were fragile and precious, and it was intoxicating. Your hands fell to the lapels of his suit jacket, and you eased it off his shoulders, tossing it to one side when it slid down the length of his arms. His shirt went next, your fingers fumbling with the buttons and your breath catching in your throat when you took a moment to rake your eyes over the expanse of milky skin now revealed to you, toned and taut and firm to the touch. You traced over the outline of his ribs, dipping into his naval in a tease before smoothing your palms up to his chest, where you could feel his heart racing.

“Is this okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

The button of his trousers came loose easily, the fit too big for his slim hips, and he didn’t resist when you edged them down, arching up so he could kick them off before rolling on top of you, his hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist. And only then did you realise that something wasn’t right. There was nothing there for you to grind against, nothing going on to suggest that he was enjoying this as much as you were, and a sad sigh escaped you before you could hold it in. “This isn’t working for you, is it?”

He sprang away from you as if he’d been burned, retreating to the far side of the room where the lamplight didn’t quite reach, clad only in his fresh white Y-fronts, the picture of innocence, corrupted. “Shit, I’m sorry. I told you! I’m not normal!”

“It’s okay.” You longed to go to him, to wrap him up in your arms and bring his head to your chest so you could stroke his hair and soothe him, but you knew your nudity would only make him feel worse about the situation, and your dress was out of reach. “I told you, it’s just you and me in here. No-one else has gotta know about any of this. I’m real good at keeping secrets.”

“You swear you won’t say anything?”

“Cross my heart.”

He was still racked with tension, but he nodded slowly, as if he wanted desperately to believe you but still wasn’t sure he actually could. “I- I think I should go now.”

“Whatever you want.” You watched as he dressed himself, tugging on the unflattering suit and covering up the wiry muscles and narrow hips that you wished you’d had longer to explore. His hair was mussed up, his lips swollen from the force of your kisses, and you were pleased that it at least looked like you’d done your job, for no other reason than to spare his embarrassment. “Hey,” you spoke up as he hurried for the door, and he stilled, apparently unable to bring himself to look back. “What’s your name?”

For a moment, you thought he might ignore you, and he had every right to. It wasn’t unusual for clients not to want to give up their personal information. But in the end, he answered in a rasping whisper, that you only just caught before he disappeared out of the door. “Harry.”

Alone, you dragged yourself from the bed, taking a second to smooth down your hair and ease your dress back over your curves, slipping your feet into the heels that pinched your toes and made the balls of your feet ache, the image of readiness for the next client that chose to while away the night in your company.

Returning to the main room to find it empty of anyone but your madam, you cleared your throat, demanding her attention. “Hey, if that shy kid comes again - Harry - give him to me, okay?”

“Y/N, not getting attached I hope?”

You scoffed and turned away. “Course not.” If she saw your face, you knew she’d see right through you. It was far easier to lie with your back turned, although you weren’t quite sure you could convince yourself.

*****

Drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series! Tags will be on the first reblog.

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs make me happy! 🖤 Thank you for reading x

#norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #harry odum #harry odum fanfiction #harry odum x reader #six ways to sunday #six ways to sunday fanfiction #the many faces of norman reedus

35 notes · View notes

oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

420 notes · View notes