#to be honest i missed writing fics and all that shit so sooner or later i would have returned anyway

[corpsekiller]

since @jaenrang had the honor of summoning me from the dead, i suppose it's time to make an official announcement, so.. i'm back?

#🍷— lea talks #i guess now i HAVE to post again #to be honest i missed writing fics and all that shit so sooner or later i would have returned anyway #and at least i didn't come with empty hands because there are so many works piling up in my drafts

[timelesslords]

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

#this is so cheesy and so long <3 #bon apple teeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth fic #pjo #annabeth chase #pjo fic #percabeth fanfic #i already have more prompts in my inbox than i will realistically every finish #so on a technical level i am not taking more #but if you send one and i like it i might write it anyway lmao #no guarantees though!!

[bittydragon]

The Ant King

Note: Huge thanks to Bittydragon for inspiring me to write this. I’ll be honest, this is the first fic I've ever actually written, as well as the only piece of creative fiction I've written in like two years so… fingers crossed it goes well hahaha.

TW: tight spaces, darkness, uh,,, bugs i guess. Near death experience

  There are things you have to know about ants when you get an ant farm. Basic fundamentals. What to feed them, how to keep them alive, what type of ants you have, etcetera. Even if your intentions were… torturous. After all, you need to know what makes something tick in order to make it stop.

One of the more common facts about ants is that every colony has a queen. She orders her ants to keep her alive so she can make more ants. Simple biology, the continuation of a species. Every nest has a queen, or it dies.

Apparently, this colony didn’t get the memo.

These thoughts buzzed in grumpy circles around Wilbur's’ head as he followed his ant companion, Tommy, deeper into the ant-farm. They had been wandering these tunnels for what felt like days now, in the center of the farm so there were no glass barriers to show the outside world. They were deep too. Almost at the bottom of the compound. Wilbur was not one to show fear, but even he was beginning to get claustrophobic.

Tommy, who up until now had been jabbering like a toddler the whole trip through the ant-farm had also gone uncharacteristically silent. The whole trip Wilbur had wanted nothing more than a few seconds of quiet from him, but now he missed the carefree noise.

They were on their way to see the ant King. A type of ant that, as far as Wilbur knew, didn’t exist. So either they were on a wild goose chase, or Will was way out of his depth.

The further they went, the more he was convinced it was the latter.

“Tommy do you-” Wilbur paused, his echoing voice in the tunnel almost felt like a taboo. An affront to the maddening silence that stalked them. He lowered his voice.

“Do you think… Will I ever get back to normal? Will the ant king change me back?” He hated that little quiver in his voice. He hated the uncertainty. The waiting.

Tommy continued to march forward silently, pondering the question.

“I dunno big man, I think you’ve changed heaps since you got here.” He turned his head to flash Wilbur a grin “Then you’ll be out there and all nice n shit. It’ll be poggers.”

The tunnel was dark, but not dark enough to hide the flash of uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes.

Wilbur's heart sank. “Thanks mate.” He mumbled, and they trekked on, once more in silence.

  By the time they saw light, it felt like they had been walking for days. Wilbur was almost glad he was about to meet possibly one of the most powerful ants in this colony. They rounded one last bend, and they were there.

Before them stood a huge double door set in the wall. Two vines with some kind of glowing fruit framed the door, shedding light on the small space. In front of the door, leaning on a spear made from a twig was another ant with a pair of large white rimmed goggles. 

“Well… This is it I guess.” Wilbur muttered. He cleared his throat “Hey, um. I-i’m here to have an audience with the King? If that's alright.”

The guard ant didn’t respond, continuing to stare at them with no discernible expression.

“H-hello?” Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who shrugged.

“Excuse me? Anyone home?” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of the ant's face.

He seemed to startle slightly, before slumping down a bit and letting out a loud snore.

“What the fuck” Tommy said.

Before anyone could do much of anything, one of the massive double doors creaked open and a voice came through.

“George, I swear if you fell asleep again, I'm going to rip off your antenna and use them as- oh.”

Another ant entered the room, this one also carried a twig-spear and had a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead.  As soon as his gaze landed on Wilbur, his expression soured.

If looks could kill… Wilbur thought nervously

“It’s you” The new ant spat “Took your sweet time getting here Soot. Earthquake slow you down? Didja get a taste of your own medicine from your big pals out there?”

Wilbur pursed his lips, and the ant snorted. “Yeah. Thought so.” He walked forward and gave George a hard shove, sending the other ant sprawling with a startled yelp.

“Sapnap what the hell?!” He snapped, before spotting Wilbur and Tommy. “Oh hey. That guy is here.”

“Yeah he’s here, idiot.” Sapnap smacked George over the head with his spear “And we would have known a lot sooner if you hadn't fallen asleep on duty again!”

“OW! Sapnap stop! Get off me!”

Wilbur cleared his throat, drawing their attention “Sorry to interrupt, but me and my friend have been walking for a long, long time, so could we please have an audience with the King?”

Subpoena glared “Yeah. He’s waiting for you. Against my advice, he wants to see you.”

Oh. That… didn’t sound great.

Wilbur tried not to think about the implications of that statement as he approached the double doors. Tommy moved to follow, but was stopped by the guards.

“Hey!” He groused “Let me through dickheads!”

“I'm afraid the King only wants an audience with the great and powerful Wilbur Soot” Sapnap said with a smirk.

“But I want to go too! Let me in! You stupid ugly bitch ill fight you! You may have a fancy stick but just wait until I pull out my knife-gun!”

“Tommy its fine.” Wilbur interrupted “I’ll be fine mate, promise. Just wait here. I wont leave without saying goodbye.”

The last thing he saw was Tommy’s antenna drooping sadly, before the doors swung closed behind him.

  If Wilbur thought the tunnel was dark before, that was nothing compared to the room he was in now. The darkness was so thick, so absolute, that it made no difference if his eyes were open or closed.

“Hello?” Wilbur called “Uh… your majesty? I was told that you wanted to see me.”

His voice echoed slightly in the huge space, but there was no reply.

Wait. What was that? Something rasped ever so slowly across the opposite wall. Something big. As it moved, the moss where it had been standing glowed a dull green.

Bio-luminescence Wilbur reasoned. Trying to distract himself from the fear creeping up his spine. Touch activated, it seems.

He swallowed dryly “L-look, just tell me what you want. I’m not here to cause trouble”

The thing moved again, its raspy scuttle reverberated through the chamber.

“Wilbur Soot, not here to cause any trouble” A thoughtful voice hummed from the dark “Now that’s a first.”

The bio-luminescent moss was lighting up more of the room. If he squinted, Wilbur could make out a... leg. Probably.

Wilbur inches slowly to the side, the moss lighting up his own path. “Okay, I get it, I've done morally questionable things in the past, but I've learned a lot from my time here. I’m sorry.”

“For now” The voice replied. The thing was moving on the other side, matching him step for step. “What's to say you aren't faking remorse to get out of here? And maybe you really are sorry. How can I be sure you wont change your mind the second you're back to normal? It's too much of a risk.”

Wilbur continued to back away nervously “Your majesty-”

“Please, call me Dream. Everyone else does.”

“Right… Dream. I can say with 100% certainty that won't happen. I've seen people die in front of me. That’s enough to change anyone's stance on something.”

“And yet I'm still not convinced.” It was moving faster now, scuttling across the floor, walls and even across the ceiling. Wilbur's head spun with the motion. “And since we’re talking in hypotheticals, riddle me this: Whoever said I was going to let you out anyway? What if I just like to play with my food?”

Dream stopped suddenly, rearing over Wilbur, and with all of the lit up moss, he got his first proper look.

This ant was huge. Twice- no, at least three times the size of Wilbur himself. He looked a bit like a centaur, with a human torso connected to a pure white and thorax and abdomen.He also wore a strange white mask with a blank eyed smiley face drawn on.

Two huge claw arms- similar to those of a praying mantis- extended from Dreams waist and slammed into the dirt either side of Wilbur, startling him enough that he fell onto his ass. The king leaned forward with that lifeless grin, and Will closed his eyes, preparing for the end.

“But…” Dream said thoughtfully “A proper experiment should account and test for all variables, shouldn't it?”

“Y-yeah generally” Wilbur stuttered

“Oh good.” Dream hoisted him roughly to his feet. “I’m glad I asked you. After all, you know all about experiments, don’t you?”

Wilbur chose not to answer, glowering at Dream as the eyes on his mask briefly glowed a dull green.

A moment later, Sapnap and George marched in, dragging a cussing and struggling Tommy behind them.

“YOU STUPID MOTHEFUCKERS!!! Let me go or ill get married in rage!! Fuck you and-! Oh. wow that is a big fella.” Tommy stopped and stared in awe at Dream

“Sapnap, give Wilbur your spear.” Dream ordered.

A flicker of doubt crossed Sapnaps face but he obediently shoved the spear into Wilbur's hands.

“I’ll make you a deal, Wilbur Soot.” Dream purred, circling him. “I will let you go to your old life. You can do whatever you like; kill us, torment us, throw us away… it doesn't matter. All you have to do is kill one ant.” He gestured to Tommy.

“What?” Wilbur whispered.

“WHAT?!” Tommy roared “fuck you! I'm not your dumb-ass pawn, I'm going to kill you! Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he writhed, attempting to bite George who did a surprisingly good job of holding him still.

“Go on.” Dream cooed “It's just one insignificant ant standing between you and freedom. You've killed hundreds. What's one more?”

Spear in hand, Wilbur took a hesitant step forward.

Tommy's gaze snapped up “Wilby?” He asked, his struggling pausing for a moment.

Their eyes met, fear clashing with sorrow. Tommy seemed to see something in Wilbur's expression and hung his head in defeat. As if he had expected Wilbur to betray him.

Oh hell no. Fuck that. Wilbur angrily tossed the spear aside.

“No. I won't.”

“What?” Dream spat

Wilbur rounded on him “No! I won't kill him! Keep me here, kill me, hunt me for sport, whatever! Just leave him out of this! Tommy has been nothing but nice to me since I met him, even though it don't deserve it!” He rubbed his arm. “God knows I don't deserve it.”

“Hmm…” Dream hummed “Are you sure, even if it costs you your life?” One of Dream's massive claw arms grazed his side, a subtle threat.

Wilbur looked over at Tommy, who had a look of hope on his face.

“Yeah.” Will smiled, “I'm sure.”

I probably could have written more, but i wont. I hope you like this fic bitty! Thanks for reading :)

Edit: Fortune, this is amazing! Like, I hadn't really thought about this encounter in a lot of detail, but I honestly like this a lot! And Dream being a big boy since he's the king ant. Just yes. Thank you so much for this.

#submission #fan work #tiny!tommy #tiny!wilbur #tiny!dream #tiny!sapnap #tiny!george #giant!dream? #maybe? #mcyt gt #thank you again! #betmyfortune

[marvel-m-lee]

Naughty Words

Warnings: tickle fic, emotions

Words: (I'm more sure, around 1000-1500)

Summary/Prompt: So an idea for a prompt could be that the reader changes a word on Steves phone to a "bad" word. So whenever he tries to write a certain word the phone automatically changes it to "fuck" or something similar. And then the reader and the others will be like "language". Steve gets extremely frustrated until he figures it out:)

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

It was another normal day at the compound. You were bored because all the other avengers were training and Peter was at school until evenings time.

You were just sitting on the couch when you began to think to yourself. You could go annoy Tony, but you weren't sure if he was asleep. Pepper would usually force him to sleep when he couldn't so you really didnt want to disturb that. You could go train but Steve explained you were too young to be an avenger yet. OkAy StEve, (y/a) isnt old enough, WhAteVer! (I got ur back)

That's when the best idea popped into your head. An idea better than any other on the planet. Perhaps you were the smartest human on earth, smarter than Stark, perhaps even the smartest living lifefo!-

"That is a stupid idea y/n" Wanna laughed. She must had only just entered because you hadn't beard her before.

You jumped up and watched her at the counter with your elbows resting on the couch top and your head resting in your hands acting cheeky.

"Wanda! It's a great idea!" You protested. "What's gonna happen? Hmm?"

Wanda began to walk over to you and looked sideways. She brought her hand to her chin to think. You knew she was acting silly but you weren'tsure what she was up to.

"Hmm, I dunno. Maybe.." She then grabbed your hips and began to squeeze them, "Tickle you!?"

You squealed and bucked, tossing and turning on the couch, wanda now had started tickling your sides and giggling with your contagious laughter.

She then stopped and smiled at your giggling self curled into the couch. She ruffled your hair, "little prankster, have fun" she then left as you recovered from her attach as not to be attacked herself.

You didn't mind the tickles, but this prank was worth so much more.

Time had passed and you were just outside Steve's room. You entered quietly, he and the other avengers other than Wanda and Tony seemed to be training so the coast was clear. You slipped inside and looked around.

"This old man's got no taste" obvious in the nicest way possible.

You looked around and saw his phone charging by his bedside table. "Jackpot" you whispered and woddled over to it. You grabbed it and switched it on. Tony had brought him one from the 21th century, finally.

Annoyingly he now had a password now. Luckily, like all old men, it was either Password or his birthday. Or just the same password for everything.

You knew the plan, sneak in, get his phone, and change 'No' with auto correction to "FUCK YES BABY" Because, Swear words, yes, and let's all be honest Steve would never say this unless he was drunk, WHICH COULDN'T EVEN HAPPEN ANYMORE!

Once completed you snucked back out and left to your room to read a book.

More time passed, and finally the team were going to start dinner. Rather than calling everyone and disrupting them Steve decide to text everyone. Peter was also here by now, he had finished school a while ago and you both were sat in his bedroom playing video games.

Old Man Steve: So who wants what for

tea?

Metal arm: Idm

Bank💸: I'm in the shop, wont be

there.

Best mom: No Tony, we're eating dinner

with everyone. Y/n and Peter can choose

You and Peter both picked up your phones after pausing the game, both curious of the buzz after buzz's.

Old Man Steve: @Y/n🍃🌷💸 and

@spiderlings😟🕷, what do you want for

dinner?

Spiderlings😟🕷: 🍕?

You watched your phone as everyone texted, about to ask about what you should eat, but suddenly you remembered the little prank you decided to play on Steve. You knew that we had no pizza left, you and Loki had eaten it the night before when everyone was busy instead of cooking.

Old Man Steve: FUCK YES BABY, sorry Y/n

and Loki ate the last of it.

That's when both Peter and you heard Tony's laughter from his lab.

Bank💸: Languaage cap!

Metal arm: Steve??

Old Man Steve: what, FUCK YES BABY- I

didn't text that.

You: Language cap!

Badass🕷Spider: Language Steve, it's a bad

example to the kids

Old Man Steve: FUCK YES BABY, FUCK

YES BABY! How do I work this?

You and Peter then heard someone walking down the halls and to neither of your surprises Steve opened the door.

"Y/n, Peter, could one of you help me with this?"

Peter was about to answer but you quickly butted in, "oh, we don't know how to. It's too hard" you gave Peter a look.

Peter's face went from confusion to fear and smug. "Sorry Mr Roger's, this is out of my hands"

Steve grunted but smiled, he left to go to see if Tony would help him. Quickly you both tested Tony and explained the situation, everyone heard Steve grunt and leave the lab to go get dinner started.

Bank💸: you guys are fucked once he finds out yk?

Both Peter and you laughed, knowing fully well you'd be wrecked sooner or later, but you couldn't be bothered as of the moment. VIDEO GAMES AWAIT!

Half an hour had passed now and you were getting hungry, so you texted Steve to ask if food was ready, once again the same situation happened. And once more, everyone corrected him on his very inappropriate language.

It was a running gag, whenever one of you swore, Steve would correct you. 20th century shit, and him being a cinnamon bun turned steroids. Now you could have your revenge.

Finally though, food was ready. Peter and you left the room laughing and joking, you were annoying him about a headshot you had got on him but he bragged about more kills so it was practically even.

Everyone was getting to the table as Wanda and Steve set up plates, utensils, and food.

You sat next to Peter and Tony, Tony next to Pepper, next to Pepper was Sam, then Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Vision, Nat, Clint, Bruce and finally back to the Spiderling. Everyone else was busy, Thor and Loki were going to come the next week anyway, they were in Asgard again.

Everyone ate their meals, laughing and talking with one another, you sat directly across from Steve and saw him trying to stop Bucky from throwing his plate at Sam.

Tony leaned in next to you, whispering, "So you did the whole text situation?" He chuckled slightly as you nodded, smirking.

"Why?" Tony asked, he was curious because he knew you enjoyed pranking everyone, but he also knew you wouldn't do this to Steve without a reason. And in all fairness, you just wanted to spend time with Steve- and poke fun at his language- but mainly spend time with him. He had been on missions, work, training, and seemed busy with his life. You just felt as though he was drifting from you.

You shrugged at Tony's question, placing some food in your mouth. Tony poked your side, he didnt need you to answer but he didnt want Steve to have all the fun once this was over.

You squeaked and then squealed once he started squashing the skin on your side, everyone looked to see your adorable face slowly turn red from embarrassment.

"Arent they adorable?" Steve teased. You giggled and finally shoved Tony's hand off you, you looked at steve with a wobbly smile and asked about his language today.

"So Steve, what was up with your texting today?"

Nat swallowed her food and pointed a fork at Steve, "yeah Steve, it was a really inappropriate word"

In all fairness the team knew you both said fuck a lot. You usually would say after a rare mission you got to go on or when there were food in the fridge. "FUCK YEAH" or "FUCK YEAH BABY", probably from deadpool- though luckily for you, Steve was not a genius. Smart, yeah, genius. No. But you began to see the clocks turn in his head as he looked over the table at everyone.

After a while of winding up Steve, you all continued as usual. You were chatting to Peter and explaining how awesome you were at a game to Tony, luckily- well not for you- you hadn't noticed Wanda and Strve watching you as she whispered in his ear.

"Steve, y/n did it earlier, while you were training"

"What?"

"The whole 'no' situation, she wanted to prank you. She misses the time you spend together"

Steve turned to Wanda with both a confused face yet all understanding. Only now had he realised how little time he'd spent with you over the past few weeks. He felt bad but also a little mad at your little prank. But he smiled at Wanda, one filled with hope and- no he smirked. I wont sugar coat it. You were done.

Quickly Steve pushed out his chair, as loud as he could and took in a deep breath causing everyone to go silent and watch him. He then casually looked up and got to his feet. Everyone was almost finished by now, Buck, Steve, Clint, and even you had finished.

"Y/n, I need your help"

You watched him, confused. But suddenly seeing as smirk and losing all your cool as you looked to Wanda with a helpless face. Steve walked around the table and bent down to your height on the chair, whipped out his phone and asked you to help.

You stuttered, but once more explained you had no clue.

"Really? Stark, Peter, how about you?" The old man looked at the tech genius's. Neither spoke up.

"You're on your own kid"

Steve smirked and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder slightly as you had just finished eating. Well a few minutes ago but still.

"S-Steve! Steve I didnt dohoho anything." As any normal response you began to nervously laugh, knowing fully well what would come of this. But you wanted it. You missed it. You missed Steve.

"All I need is for you to help me, can you? Or do I gave to make you?"

Steve had now flung you onto the couch as most watched and others continued their conversations.

"Steve I- i told you i have no clu-" suddenly ten fingers found your sides and began to run up and down them causing you to giggle and yelp.

"Nahaha! Steve! Steve!!"

His fingers traveled to your ribs, pinching and squeezing each one, pretending to nawh on them. He didn't start easy, no. He knew you needed this as much as he did.

"Mm, that was a great dinner, but I wonder what's for dessert?" He asked, gnawing on your ribs and squeezing your hips making you buck and squeal.

"STEVEEEEE!!!" you were almost histerical when he reached your pits, scratching at the hollows inside, making you giggle and scream, beg and brawl. It was truly adorable to watch the two of you.

"Tickle tickle y/n, aww do you want to help me now?" Steve taunted. You stood strong though, you wanted to win. Well maybe you didnt, maybe you just wanted this to last longer. You werent sure.

"NOHOHO WAY OLD MAHAN!" You bucked and squealed, blush covering your face. You truly didnt think it would get worse but oh God, Steve hadn't ripped out the fruits yet. And just for your sas. Ah, you were wrecked.

"Okay smart ass"

"LAHANGUAGE!"

"That's it." Steve lifted your shot and placed his mouth right above your belly button. Now you were beyond hysterical, you knew what would happen and wouldn't be able to handle it, Steve gave some of the best- WORSE. DEFINITELY WORST. Raspberries around.

"NAH! NAHAH! STEVE STEVE IM SOHOHORRYYYY! I'LL HELP! I'LL HELP!" you squeaked and bucked, trying to escape, those at the table laughed at your helpless, blushing body and Steve's incredible stubbornness. So mean. So very very mean. Mean.

"Ah I'm glad you'll help" Steve lifted his head and lessened his grip on your hips, not fully though, as a millisecond later he blew a big, wet, raspberry directly on your belly button, sending vibrations to your core and back.

You jolted and screeched, pushing at his head as he blew more and more with tiny tickle kisses around your stomach.

After a while he stopped and patted your head as you balled up into the couch, drowning in giggles, laughter and ghostly tickles.

Steve handed you his phone and you quickly changed the words back as they were, disappointed but happy that you spent time with Steve again. You missed your bond, even the tickles.

Steve kissed your forehead and turned on the tv, spongebob. A favourite of both of yours, cuddling together as everupmr rose finished and put away the dishes. You slowly fell asleep on Steve's lap, hally knowing you've got your captain back.

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

Writers note.

Hey, sorry this was- well shit I'm not sugar coating it. It was also awkward because I cant eat to great now and the cuteness was sickening. Thank you for the prompt though! This was definitely a favourite, thank you! Apologies again :)

#marvel #mcu #tickle community #m-verse #tony x reader #steve x reader #peter x reader #steve Rogers #steve #stark #wanda maximoff #avengers #y/n #sfw tickles

[rebloged-content]

Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful​, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings​. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees​. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404​ a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh. 

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

 Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them. 

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides​ A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time. 

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

#I hope it's okay to you I just went ahead and did this #if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know #also no I didn't check the spelling #I'm too tired to do that anyways #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #recommendations #list

[my-proof-is-you]

Secretly Broken - Pt. 2

Jared x Reader

Summary: When your best friend asked you to be a nanny for his kids, you jumped at the opportunity. You didn’t have much going on in your career, so it seemed like the perfect way to keep making money while you looked for your next job. Things take a turn, though, when you realize that keeping your feelings for Jared at bay isn’t as easy as you thought. Not only that, you would never want to come between him and his wife. While you are doing your best to keep your feelings secret, Jared has a secret of his own. 

Warnings: fluff, angst

A/N: So because I think Gen is awesome, for the sake of what is happening in this fic, Jared married someone else. Kids names are the same, though :)

Honestly, this is based on a dream I had. So...idk. Apparently I love Jared.

Masterlist | Tag Yourself!

Jared

“Yeah, the kids are great. Y/N’s been doing a great job,” he said into the phone. Natalie had finally called him at nearly midnight, even though he’d texted her with his change of plans early in the day.

“Good. I miss them,” she said. 

“I know. They miss you, too,” he said. It was true, but he didn’t really like comforting her in that moment. He’d really wished she would ask how he was doing at least once. 

“Well...I guess I’ll talk to you next week,” she said awkwardly on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. You can call sooner if you want,” he replied, trying not to get angry. “I know the kids would love to hear from you.”

She sighed. “My shooting schedule is just hectic, Jared. I’ll definitely call if I get time.”

Jared rolled his eyes, glad he wasn’t on Facetime for her to see. “Okay. Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

Jared hung up, trying not to throw his phone. Not making time for him had been one thing, but not making time for the kids? That just pissed him off. 

Without thinking, he opened his messages app, finger hovering over your name. He sighed, closing the app and locking his phone instead.

I can’t bother her with this stuff. She does enough for me.

Although…

He opened his phone back up, writing a message to you.

Hey, I know you had planned on working tomorrow. If you want to take the day for yourself, I totally understand. Weather report said it’s supposed to get really hot in the afternoon though, so if you wanna come over and swim with me and the kids, you’re totally welcome. 

He pressed send and waited a moment, sure that you were probably asleep already. After a moment, though, he saw the three dots that indicated you were typing. 

That sounds fun! Ackles coming, too?

Jared hadn’t really thought about inviting Jensen, but it seemed like it was maybe a good idea. 

Waiting to hear back from him, he lied. But I’m sure he will! Danny’s heading out of town so I’m sure he would love to bring the kids here to give her some time to get ready for that.

Cool. See you tomorrow.

Jared sighed, sending a quick message to Jensen to invite him over as well. He loved his best friend, of course, and he and his family were always welcome over. 

For some reason, though, he felt a little sad it wouldn’t be just you coming over. 

You

You watched as the boys and JJ splashed around in the pool, playing some made-up game they’d created. The twins were in their little flotation devices, watching the older kids play. You had Odette next to you in a shaded playpen as you laid in the sun. 

A few minutes later, Jensen made his way out of the water to take a break, laying down on the lounge chair beside you. 

“Hey, Jay,” you said, sliding your sunglasses down a bit to see him better. 

“Y/N/N,” he said, flashing you a smile. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” you said. Jensen quirked an eyebrow up. “What?” you asked.

“And how is the completely-inappropriate-crush-on-your-married-best-friend going?”

Your jaw dropped. “I am going to murder Danneel.” 

Jensen laughed. “C’mon, Y/N, even if she hadn’t told me...I’d have known.”

You groaned. “Am I that obvious?”

“Honestly, no. You do a good job of hiding it.” You waited for him to continue. “But I know you. You’re one of my best friends, too. And I see how you look at him.”

“You know I would never do anything about it, right?” you said, hoping he didn’t think the worst of you. 

“Of course I know that, Y/N.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “It’s just...I can’t give up this job, you know? I love those kids, and I think they love me, too.”

“I know they do, Y/N. And let’s be honest, they are sort of lacking in the mother department right now.”

“I’m not trying to replace Natalie, you know that too, right?” you asked, suddenly nervous that was how it was coming off. 

“I know. It’s not your fault or theirs that Natalie is never here,” he said, shaking his head. “I get it, I do. Being an actor is hard. Traveling is hard. Being away from family is hard. But you know what? Jared does the same thing, and he still makes time for his family.”

You nodded. “Well anyway, I trust you, but please, please don’t tell Jared about my feelings. They are well under control.”

“I won’t, Y/N. I know the situation sucks. If you ever need to talk, let me know. Though I know you have Danneel for that.”

You chuckled. “Never hurts to have another perspective, Ackles.”

“What are you two gabbing about over here?” Jared asked, making sure all the kids got out of the water safely. 

“Just planning what snack we’re gonna make!” Jensen yelled, giving you a small wink. The kids all got riled up at the prospect of a snack, wrapping up in their towels and yelling out what they wanted. 

“I’ll take care of this,” you said, standing up and heading inside. You padded into the kitchen, getting out a couple bags of popcorn to begin making in the microwave along with some small plastic bowls to fill for each kid. 

You heard the sliding glass door open as you waited for a bag of popcorn to cook and turned to see Jared sliding it shut, using his other hand to dry off his hair with his towel. 

“Everything okay?” you asked, watching as he padded over to the kitchen. You glanced down and had to stop yourself from staring at his perfectly toned abs. 

“Yep, just seeing if you need a hand,” he said with a smile. 

“Uh, sure,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him. “If you could start splitting this bag into the bowls that would be great.”

He did as told, stopping now and then to put a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth. You were watching the bag that was currently in the microwave when you felt a tiny tap on the back of your head. You ignored it, thinking you imagined it until you felt it again. You turned around just in time to see Jared throwing a piece of popcorn at your head. 

“You little shit,” you said, swatting it away. The dogs were at your feet, picking up and eating every piece that hit the floor instantly. You grabbed a piece of your own, chucking it at him. You laughed as he caught it in his mouth and soon it was a game of seeing how many he could catch. 

“Um, hello?” Jensen said, poking his head in the sliding door, “Got some hungry and quickly-turning-grumpy kids out here.” 

“Sorry, Jay,” you said, giving Jared a look like you’d gotten in trouble as Jensen went back out and closed the door. 

“Oh well,” he said, grabbing a couple of the bowls. “I guess I’ll have to beat my record some other time.”

“You really think you could have kept going?” you joked. 

“Oh, I could go all night,” he said with a smirk. You felt your eyes widen as he turned and took the bowls outside, a shot of heat running through you at his words. 

You knew he was just messing around, but God, what his words did to you. 

Snap out of it, Y/N, you scolded yourself. You let out a breath and grabbed the rest of the bowls, following Jared outside. 

Later that night, Jensen took his kids home for a dinner with Danneel before she was to head out of town the next day. Jared insisted you stay for dinner, and you stuck around even longer to help him get the kids to bed. 

Once they were down, you stood in the living room, rocking back on your heels. You didn’t really want to go home yet, considering it was early and you had literally nothing to do. Luckily, you didn’t have to.

“How about we turn on the fire pit? It cooled off a lot once the sun went down. We could make some s’mores,” Jared said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You rolled your eyes. “That sounds great,” you said with a smile. You gathered all the ingredients for the s’mores along with a bottle of bourbon and two glasses at Jared’s request while he got the fire pit ready. When you got outside, he’d pulled up the patio loveseat to the fire, a blanket waiting on it for you. 

You sat everything down, getting to work putting some marshmallows on a stick while he poured some bourbon into the glasses for you. After you’d made and eaten your s’mores, you sat down on the loveseat, bringing your legs up under you and sipping your drink. 

Jared sat down next to you, his long arm thrown over the back of the couch while his other held his drink. You stared into the fire, mesmerized by how it danced. You both sat like that for a long time, drinking your bourbon and making small talk.

After a while you felt Jared’s eyes on you and turned to see him staring. 

“What?” you asked, no malice in your voice, only curiosity. 

He shook his head, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “Nothing, just...c-can we talk, like you offered before?” he slurred his words a bit, and you realized that over half of the bottle of bourbon was gone, and you’d only had two glasses.

You turned your body toward him more, showing that you were ready for him to open up to you. “Of course,” you said. 

He pulled his arm off the back of the couch, leaning forward slightly and staring at his hands. His eyes were glazed over a bit. “Things have just been really hard lately.”

“Is it your depression?” you asked gently.

He nodded slightly. “Yeah. I’ve just been having down days, and when that happens and I’m away from home, away from the kids…”

“It’s hard to get through,” you said. You knew how he felt. He’d gone through this at times when you worked on Supernatural, too. You thought back to how he got through that. He’d had you and Jensen, of course. But…”What about Natalie? Has she just been busy?”

His eyes shifted away. “Yeah, she’s very busy. And I just can’t…” he sighed. “She just doesn’t get it.”

You weren’t sure what he meant, but it felt like there was something more going on with him and Natalie.

“And honestly, Y/N, I can deal with her ignoring me. But the kids…” he stopped, choked up. “I can’t believe how little she calls them.” You saw a tear slip down his cheek and your heart broke. 

You set down your glass, reaching out and tugging on Jared’s hand. He set his down as well, leaning over until his head was in your lap, curling his long legs up on the couch. You combed your fingers through his hair, shushing him as he let a few more tears slip out. 

“It’ll be okay, Jare,” you said. He relaxed a bit as you brushed the wetness of his tears off his cheek with the back of your hand. You hated to see him like this, and you were so worried that he was unhappy, you wished you would have seen it sooner.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, sniffling. “I didn’t want to put this on you. You already do so much for us.”

You continued stroking his head. “You could never put too much on me,” you said gently. “You are my best friend, and I love you.” You had of course told Jared you loved him before, but whether he knew it or not, you had more meaning behind it. 

He closed his eyes, nuzzling into your lap a little more. It was a sweet action, and you couldn’t believe that Natalie could be so uncaring toward him. He was literally the sweetest man you’d ever known. 

After a bit his breathing evened out and you knew he’d fallen asleep. If you could have stayed like that all night, you would have. It was getting colder out by the second, though, and you knew you needed to get Jared to his bed. 

“C’mon, big guy,” you said, helping him get up off the couch. He was completely out of it, and you were sure he wouldn’t remember you helping him to bed in the morning. He muttered something a few times as you walked him up the stairs, and when he got to his bed he threw himself down on his stomach. You carefully removed his shoes for him, walking up by his head to make sure he had a pillow. You kissed his cheek and he grabbed your hand as you pulled away. 

“Love you, too,” he said. You weren’t sure if that was a response to yours earlier, or if he was half asleep and thought he was talking to his wife. 

You closed his door gently, heading for the guest room where you planned to sleep. You knew Jared would be hungover in the morning, and you figured if you were there to get the kids going in the morning it would be a big help. 

Thankfully, the guest room had basically become your room for when both Jared and Natalie were out of town and you stayed with the kids, so you had everything you needed to sleep over. 

After washing your face, brushing your teeth, and slipping into your pajamas you laid in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. 

You fell asleep eventually, the sound of Jared saying he loved you echoing in your dreams. 

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14​ @divadinag​ @lynne1993​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​  @onethirstyunicorn​ @sammykb1994​ @lilulo-12​ @mellorine-paprika​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @collette04​ @hoboal87​ @chevyharvelle​ @miraclesoflove​ @defenderrosetyler​ @babypink224221​ @calaofnoldor​ @beatifuldisaster018​ @satans-0-spawn​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @supernatural3002​ @lainxcas​ @mylovelydame21​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @lovely-lynns-likes​ @ppeachygemss​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @metalfangirl​ @vicmc624​ @polina-93​ @hobby27​

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #SPN Family #spn angst #Supernatural angst #jensen and jared #jared #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #jensen #jared x you #jared x reader #jared/you #jared/reader #jared padalecki x you #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki/you #jared padalecki/reader #padalecki family #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #fluff #supernatural fluff

[sugarfreecapsicle]

study buddy

bucky barnes x reader

Prompts: college!au (1.5k constellation writing challenge by @sunmoonandbucky); fake dating!au & unplanned bed sharing trope (star’s multi-fandom follower celebration by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan )

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit of pining, lots of awkward interaction, fluff!!!!

Wordcount: 2k-ish

A/N: oh my god, y’all, I can’t believe two of my favorites have challenges going on at the same time. I’m so honored to call them both friends - both are phenomenal writers in their own right and I am always floored by their respective work. I love the both of your oh so dearly and am so happy you’ve reached such important milestones! You deserve every happiness, and I hope this fic can bring you just a little of that.

Gif Credit (x)

Assigned seating did not end in grade school. The nightmare of desk dictatorship held strong in Fury’s classroom - a man of simple rules and unquestioned respect for his time. Your research into your professors via many forums and sites like RateMyProfessor did not alert you to the nightmare of obeying his law to the letter.

“If I were sorry about my decision, I’d apologize, but I’ve always been an honest man. You chose your seat, you chose your partner, and you chose to break up. That’s a personal problem to solve on personal time. Not mine. See you next class.”

Your conversation on the phone with Wanda and Maria definitely didn’t help lift your mood. Wanda, empathetic and full of irrational resolutions like falsifying a restraining order. Maria, ever practical and smug with her I-told-you-so attitude.

“I don’t know what else you expected from Fury of all people,” Maria chuckled before biting into an apple slice. “Even if he thinks Brock is an asshole, he won’t make an exception without something dire on the line.”

“Maybe you can just switch classes? I’m pretty sure there’s an opening in-” “Wanda, I love you, but I can’t switch classes two weeks from finals.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeeze your eyes shut in the afternoon sun. “I’ll just...I’ll just handle this as gracefully as I can.”

“Godspeed,” Maria deadpans before dropping the call.

“Y’know, I didn’t want to have to resort to this,” Wanda’s trepidation fueled your oncoming tension migraine, “but maybe it’s time to call in your favor with Bucky.”

Your heart drops somewhere on the pigeon-shit sidewalk.

“Wanda....I think you might be right.”

The saying goes that once you’ve hit rock bottom there’s nowhere to go but upward. If calling in a favor to your freshman year crush turned campus heartbreaker didn’t qualify, you didn’t want to find out where bedrock truly could be.

You shouldn’t be surprised to find a technology major in the library swamped with work on a Tuesday, but when that student is James Buchannan Barnes, it’s worthy of flipping the world ass over teakettle. Dashing as ever, stormy eyes, chestnut hair combed just so. Your backpack thuds on the floor beneath the co-op table, and his eyes find you.

“Hey, stranger,” he murmurs with an impossibly charming smile that lights his entire face. “Where have you been since August?”

Fighting a smile around Bucky is futile, so you let a grin appear. “Unfortunately dating Brock and sitting next to him in Fury’s class.”

His smile pulls into a tight wince as you take your seat across from him and retrieve your laptop from your bag.

“I don’t envy you.” Bucky waves and nods briefly at another student passing by behind you, and you turn to notice it’s a shapely redhead you recall from last semester’s art history class. “He won’t budge without legal documentation at best.”

Your fingers twist and curl together in nonsensical patterns in your lap. “Well, I was hoping to get Brock off my case, actually.”

Bucky doesn’t respond more than raised eyebrows and startled blinking. 

“Would...could you be my fake boyfriend long enough to convince Brock we aren’t getting back together?” It comes out all rushed and nervous, syllables running together like a skittering mouse across the kitchen floor. Your heart hammers against your chest, determined to break free of your body every second Bucky stalls his reply. You can’t read him - he’s still leaned back in dumbfounded silence. 

At long last he leans in, hands steeple between the two of you, calculating gleam in his eye. “If you’ll help me figure out how to pass this English Lit final, I’ll actually date you.” 

You both laugh quietly, minding the nearby staff eyeing your space at the table. Pink tinges your cheeks dangerously beyond mere flattery. 

“Let’s just agree to fake dating for now, and we’ll see if you can still stand to share space with me after a few weeks.”

“Deal.” Bucky extends his hand, you grasp it and shake to your agreement. Your fingers reluctantly move to let go, but Bucky holds firm and pulls the back of your hand to his smirking lips. “Whatever you need, darlin’.”

Days later you’re still tingling from his public affection in the library. Could you have been imagining the color shift in his eyes when he peered over your hand or was it purely fantasy? Lack of caffeine, mental fixation from stress - more likely than any truth to how deeply in character he seemed to be already.

Bucky escorts you to your classes with his fingers threading yours, a hand at the small of your back, an arm flung around your shoulders. He’s in your ear, whispering jokes and delicious plans for the rest of your time together, kissing your forehead or your cheek when you reach the door. Keeping your arrangement from Wanda and Maria could only be explained by the stress of impending finals, and you’d managed to avoid inevitable party and holiday invitations. If nothing else, this pretending made the idea of being near Brock again less intimidating.

Fury Friday arrived sooner than you’d felt it should, and as set in precedent, Bucky strolls next to you with his hand in yours, beaming and chatting about how he’d managed to bring his scores up enough in Statistics to earn a pass on his final and thereby free up his weekend. Dread skirted in your lungs, a distant siren’s call to your sense of reason as the reality of sitting next to Brock for two hours pressed upon you. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna keep me guessing?”

He’s too good at this, and Bucky has to know it. “Sorry, I...am not looking forward to this.”

“I can’t think of anyone that looks forward to a Fury class to be fair,” he laughs breathily and puts a soothing hand to your waist. A kiss lingers on your forehead, and Bucky’s spicy cologne takes over your senses in a tight embrace. “Especially with Rumlow as your seatmate.”

His whispered acknowledgment makes your whole body shiver, and he responds with a few brushes over your arms and back to stir away the obvious chilled gust of wind that’s painted your cheeks pink again.

“Knock ‘em dead, killer,” he teases with a single knuckle against your chin. Bucky’s nose brushes just barely against yours, and then he’s dashing down the hallway with a wave over his shoulder. It dawns on you as you take your seat - your neighbor pleasantly absent - that Bucky could be sacrificing too much for a fake relationship, for your sake. Brock could be all bark and no bite, but a small part of you felt he could be a breath away from snapping. Others are milling about the room, so you pull your phone out and send Bucky a text. The little heart next to his name stings somewhere deep in your chest.

You’re not missing classes just to walk me to and from, right?

Your laptop is open and ready to go, humming to life while you bend beneath the elongated desks to make sure you could plug into an outlet if need be. The buzz of a reply sends you hurtling into the composite tabletop, a loud thud followed by tittering giggles around the filling room.

Brock is glaring down at you and your phone screen, mouth in a thin line, eyebrows knitted together. You don’t say a word to him and try to keep his prying eyes from your screen.

Not missing, exactly, but cutting it close. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

“Didn’t take you long to hop on someone else’s dick, did it?”

His voice churns in your stomach, but you don’t acknowledge him. Had this been any other class but Fury’s you could put in earbuds and block him out. Brock’s eyes are on you, or at least the cold sweat chilling the back of your neck makes you think as much, and he’s seething, boring holes into your form. For two hours. For an entire Fury lecture.

Your shoe catches one of the rear legs of his chair, but you can’t bother to turn around and apologize - not like the seat budged under the star athlete. Bucky grins as you exit through the wide double doors, moves to wrap an arm around you, and you pull him by his jacket to your lips. You’re lost in his cologne, the feel if his mouth on yours, his body heat against the biting December cold. There’s a hum, something of a moan quiet enough to feel and dream of hearing - and you can’t be sure if it came from you or Bucky. With a dizzied wobble, you’re separated and Bucky’s eyes are still closed, arms cocooning you against his form.

“Hey,” he chuckles, voice deep and husky, the grin tugging at the right corner of his mouth.

“Hi,” you’re just as breathy and more than a little wanting. “Ready for the weekend?”

______________________________________

Friday night passes without a mention of the kiss.

The entirety of Saturday passes, and no mention of the kiss.

And it’s all you can think about. Forget studying for finals, forget meal prepping for the guaranteed necessity of pre-made lunches and dinners. That kiss.

You’d caught him off guard, but he didn’t hesitate to respond hungrily. Bucky tasted of honeyed tea and cinnamon chewing gum, carried the warmth of summer sun beneath his jacket. You hadn’t considered prior to the rash decision to just fucking kiss him that your senses would swim in his aftershave, his sheer proximity, the comfort of him. For you, Bucky had never been so tangible.  

Truthfully, Bucky had never been tangible for anyone - notorious campus-wide for gracefully bowing out of invitations for dates, one night stands even. People of course talked, spread rumors that he had to be dating a professor in secret, that he had a long distance relationship with a supermodel overseas. 

Until that kiss two days ago.

Bucky arranged for time to cram for his English Lit final with you tonight in his apartment, more for the convenience of avoiding scorned women at every corner of your dorm than anything else. He did have more space, privacy and faster internet than the supplied campus Wi-Fi. 

Is it appropriate to bring wine to a study session or is that strictly for dinner parties? Maybe some appetizers? Seven o’clock on a Sunday night typically meant binging as many football games as anyone could consume, especially in a college town. 

You’re buzzed up to this apartment, cream puffs in hand, and freeze when Steve opens the door to a living room full of people in various coordination of navy and ivory. The tall blonde ushers you in and sweeps your dessert out of your hands before you can locate your study buddy.

“Buck’s in his room,” Steve offers with some mischief. “Says he needs to pass this final, so he’s passing on the game night.”

It’s easy enough to figure out which room with a shut door is Bucky’s when Sam walks out of the bathroom and immediately checks the score on his phone (the space around the smaller television is too busy to see). You knock, probably a little too lightly at first, but the second set of taps nearly clock Bucky’s throat.

He’s beaming, cheeks flushed, smile wide - like a smitten kid. His electric touch pulls you into his bedroom already scattered with his scrawlings and textbooks. The door barely provides enough sound protection from the party for you to feel comfortable at attempting to concentrate.

“I really thought Steve had an away game this weekend, but I hadn’t thought about having a bye week for finals -” Bucky stops, feet strategically between loose paper and dog-eared texts. And god, he’s looking at you like that again and you can’t breathe. 

Suddenly you understand the gravity of your feelings, and your mouth goes dry.

This isn’t fake for you. Not anymore.

“Really, I’m glad you still wanted to help me out.” Bucky’s sincere, permanently grinning as he’s rearranging his chaotic floorspace to make room for you. You swallow hard as you eye the sliver of skin between his sweater and his lounge pants, the well-loved hoodie pooling around his middle as he bends from his hips. When he’s upright and inviting you to settle in, you decide that professionalism has to outweigh your own personal crisis - think like Fury.

Hours later, the two of your are in a shambles - Bucky insisted you change into a pair of his sweats and a tee shirt in the event of an all nighter, you’d made a run for fast food, and your eyes can hardly stay open long enough to fact-check Bucky’s recitation. 

“I think maybe we should call it a night,” he yawns, interrupting his monologue. You nod mutely and move to get up when Bucky catches your arm. “Uh, I mean, you could...you could stay.”

You shouldn’t, though, for reasons Bucky doesn’t know - but he has an excellent argument: you’re in no shape to get yourself home and with the party still going strong outside his bedroom there’s no way he can drive you home. 

Bucky helps you get to your feet and smooths his hands over your shoulders. “Scout honor, no funny business. They’ll all crash on top of each other in the living room and Steve’s room. You’d at least have a little more space in here. I’ll take the floor -” 

“Absolutely not, Bucky Barnes.” Your tone even surprises you; the Fury switch quickly dissipates. “I mean, I can’t in good conscience let you do that, it’s your room. We can...we can just share, if you don’t mind -”

“Not at all.” Maybe it’s your drowsiness but he seems eager. “Just washed the sheets anyway, and the blanket’s something Mom and Gran quilted for me as a kid.”

Soft cotton and jersey envelop your aching muscles, and a betraying moan of contentment escapes you when Bucky curls into bed next to you. He’s warm, a furnace beneath the covers, haven from the biting cold. 

His stubble, still unshaven from Friday, borders on scruff and tickles your forehead. Hands ease over your back, tentative, hesitant. You can’t deny him and certainly can’t deny yourself this moment. 

“Darlin’?”

He’s whisper soft, cotton candy words prickling against your skin. You hum and his hands still against your shirt.

“Wasn’t kidding about actually dating you, y’know. If you want to take up the offer-”

Your fingers are on his lips, you crane your body to get a better look at his beautiful, tired face. 

“Ask me again in the morning, Buck. After coffee. So I know this isn’t delirium.”

He sighs and presses a tired smile into your forehead. “Whatever you need, darlin’.”

#1.5kconstellationswritingchallenge #star's multi fandom follower celebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #my fic

[starker-stories]

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 2

I’m sorry I missed a day re-posting Accord. I really want to get it all back out there so I can continue on with chapter 10-13 when I hit that point. Unfortunately, I’m still sleeping off whatever hit me Monday-Wednesday while I was in the hospital. I’m pretty sure I’m back up to normal now. So let’s start this daily posting thing again.

As a bit of annoyance, I’m going to remind you that @starker-stories is formerly starkerstories, which got accidentally deleted. So if you followed me at the non-hyphenated blog, I hope you’ll make the move with me to the hyphenated one. I miss all’y’all. 

I’ll be re-creating my individual chapter posts for An Accord over here on the blog that replaces starkerstories. Until I hit the current chapter, I’ll be posting daily. They’ll have links to both tumblr and AO3 chapter links. I’m sorry if that bothers people who’ve seen this all before in the tag. I’m content to leave all my other fic as AO3 only, but this is my current favorite child, so I’m spoiling it rotten.

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Hopefully every Friday. More chapters may appear sooner if the writing is going well. Because I have 0 self-control.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.” ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 2:  The pass-code to the penthouse

A movie and a half later, Tony sat on the other end of the sofa from Bucky. “Taken care of. Tomorrow you’ll meet Fury up at HQ.”

“It’ll take more than one day,” Bucky said quietly. “There were a lot of missions.”

Tony nodded.

“I remember all of them, Tony. I’m sorry.”

It was still hard for Tony to reconcile the raw emotion of what happened with the knowledge that the man sitting next to him was not the man in that videotape. “I know, Bucky. I’m getting there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’ll head upstate for a few hours a day until it’s finished. Either Fury or Maria Hill will handle the debrief personally. Whatever Ross finds out will be filtered through them, cross-checked by FRIDAY, gone over by me, and then given back to Fury to release.”

“They agreed to that?”

Tony laughed. “Of course not. It’s all going directly from Fury to Ross, with not a single stop in between.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time and they both pretended to watch the movie. “Steve underestimated you.”

“You think?”

They watched the movie until its end. “Didn’t peg you for a rom-com man, Bucky,” Tony said smiling.

“War movies kinda lost their charm.”

“Overly realistic sci-fi ones lost theirs for me,” Tony countered.

“Drama… I live enough of that lately.”

“Ditto action.”

“Romance never gets old,” Bucky said finally.

“God, are you two getting weepy over Tom Hanks movies?” Peter said, laughing and landing in Tony’s lap once he dropped his backpack by the elevator.

“You told me you liked that I’m a romantic,” Tony said, kissing Peter lightly on the lips.

“Yes, but…” Peter picked up the remote, clicked, and brought up the title. “Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Shut up, kid.”

“Shut up, kid.”

“Oh. My. God. Old man stereo.” Peter disentangled himself from Tony’s hold. “Feed me.” Bucky started to rise. “Sit down, Bucky. I didn’t say cook. I told him to feed me. Feed US.”

“Take out?”

“Take me… us… out.”

“Your house is full of food, Tony,” Bucky said. “Take your boyfriend out to dinner, I’ll be fine.”

“I said, feed US,” Peter hollered back from the bedroom.

“Thai?” Tony suggested.

“Thai.” Peter agreed, coming back, tugging on a fresh shirt.

“Chinese?” Bucky countered.

“Thai wasn’t a thing in your day?” Peter asked.

“In Thailand it was. Not in Manhattan.”

Tony laughed. “How long has it been since you were here… that you remember?”

“Uh… Forty-three? I’ve been here since, and I remember, but it wasn’t to sample the cuisine. Back in forty-three, pretty much everyone still called it Siam, even though it had changed already. But by any name, there weren’t any restaurants serving that kind of food. Chinese was the closest.”

“I doubt spending the last year, since Wakanda, on the run with Rogers broadened your horizons.”

“Not really.”

“Thai then,” Peter insisted.

“Yes, but proper Thai. We’re not dragging our new guest to that place you and May like.”

“Fine. Rich people Thai.”

“Yes, Thai. Not Thai by way of American Cantonese and whichever Korean guy they have working the kitchen today.”

Bucky smiled at the couple, arguing as they wandered back and forth from the bedroom to the living room, various bits of clothes flying while they changed.

“There.” Peter said, finally dressed in much the same as he’d started out in.

“Ready?” Tony asked Bucky.

“We can just… go out?” He’d spent all of his time, since he escaped from HYDRA, on the run. The idea of just being able to walk outside the door and go to a restaurant was unbelievable.

“Well, yeah,” Peter said.

“It can be a bit of a zoo once I’m recognized,” Tony admitted. “But that’s why I get driven even though it’s only a few blocks away, and I’ll have security there.”

“Iron Man needs security?” Bucky asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Iron Man does not need security,” Tony said sharply. “However Tony Stark, the fifth richest man in the world and New York celebrity needs security. Unless you fancy being mobbed by everyone with a cellphone.”

“Not fun,” Peter said sagely.

Happy was waiting with the Rolls outside Tony’s private elevator in the garage when the three of them arrived.

“Bucky, this is Happy Hogan. Head of Security for Stark Industries, but I also make him be my driver and pilot still. He tolerates it because I’m so loveable. Happy, Bucky Barnes. He’s staying with Peter and I for awhile.”

“Mr. Hogan.”

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“Can we not? It wasn’t him. It was someone else. I’m… getting over it. I appreciate my defense squad, Happy, but save the death glare for Rogers if he ever shows up.”

“Tony’s taking us out to dinner,” Peter said brightly.

“Thai?” Happy asked.

“He’s nothing if not predictable,” Tony said, helping Peter in. “There’s going to be grooves carved into the road from the tower to the Thai restaurant.”

“To match the grooves from the tower to the Italian one you insist on going to every time it’s your choice,” Peter countered.

“Italian?” Bucky asked. “You been to Gargiulo’s?”

“Fuck yes. I haven’t been in years. But it was as close as you get to Napoletano outside of Naples. Sorry kid, you’re overruled. Happy! Change of plan. Coney Island.”

“What‽” Peter screeched. “I will be as old as you two before I eat.”

“Yeah, true. Never mind the car. Make the arrangements, Hap. We’ll meet you on the helipad.”

“What the fuck?” Peter said.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said, just a little bit behind him.

“Oh, pretty and beautiful chime in,” Tony said, teasingly. “You think you’re going to dangle the possibility of me eating like my m… Oh.” Tony gasped and sat heavily down onto the backseat of the car. His eyes closed tightly shut and he began hyperventilating.

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. He backed away until he was up against the wall of the garage, as far away from Tony as he could get. He watched as Peter climbed next to Tony. Once the kid had Tony in his arms, Bucky ran up the garage ramp and kept running.

“Stop him,” Tony gasped out. “Lock the garage down before he gets out.” He flailed for Happy’s arm. “It’s not his fault,” he told Happy. Which was as far as Tony’s bravery would take him. He buried his face against Peter’s chest. “It’s not his fault,” he said quieter.

“I know, Tony. It’s okay. He’s… his twin brother.”

“Yeah.” Tony drew a shaky breath and another and another. Slow and deep. In the safety of Peter’s arms, it was easy to convince himself of that. Twin brother. That made sense. It was a gut level reaction to seeing the same face associated with…

Tony was sitting on the edge of the carseat when Bucky came back down, followed by Happy. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Debatable. But I don’t want to kill you. Your dead twin brother on the other hand,” Tony said, trying at a wan smile.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sat cross-legged on the garage floor in front of the car door’s opening.

“I forgot who you aren’t. It’s… I got caught up in the moment. My… her cousin used to work at the place. She and I ate there a lot the summer between high school and MIT. Howard was setting things up in L.A. that summer. It…” Tony closed his eyes again. “I don’t want to blame you,” he said quietly. “I know it wasn’t you.”

“She was Italian? That wasn’t in the file. Nothing was. A time. A date. A location. A mission. I didn’t know who. Not until after. Until just before Pierce had me wiped again and sent me back to Siberia for storage.” Bucky tried to hide his reaction to his memory of the procedure.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said.

Peter reached out for each of their hands. “Takeout, obviously.” He helped both men to their feet and led them to the elevator. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Chinese,” they both said.

“Fantastic.” Peter leaned his head on Tony’s shoulder and wrapped their arms together. But he kept his hand reached out to hold Bucky’s.

~~~~~

They let Peter pick the movie.

“I thought you didn’t like sci-fi?” Bucky asked.

“To be honest, the whole ‘sitting still pretending to be mentally engaged by a movie’ is new to me,” Tony offered in his defense.

“You told me you loved Star Wars.”

“Yeah. Star Wars.”

“And Star Trek.”

“That’s okay too.”

“That’s sci-fi!” Peter said emphatically.

“Technically, that’s space opera,” Tony countered.

“You don’t have to sit and watch movies with me,” Peter said, sounding actually hurt.

“I like sitting and watching movies with you. I never said I didn’t. I said it was new to me.”

“Watching movies can’t be new to you. He’s older than you and it’s not new to him,” Peter said, nodding towards Bucky.

“Baby, the last movie I sat and watched all the way through, in one sitting, was Star Wars. The summer right before I was sent to boarding school in the fall.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay. It’s just… new. Sitting still for this long. Not… doing anything.”

“You’re watching a movie.”

“No, baby. You’re watching a movie. I’m watching you.” Tony leaned over and gave Peter a kiss. He was about to deepen it when he remembered they weren’t alone. He chuckled. “Sorry.”

Peter laughed. “I foresee us bumbling around each other saying ‘sorry’ a lot.”

“You haven’t said ‘sorry’ yet, kid,” Bucky grinned.

“Call me kid again and I’ll web your cool metal arm to the floor again.” Peter grinned back. “Then I’ll say sorry for it after.”

~~~~~

“Bucky. Hey, Bucky. It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re in New York. You’re in Stark Tower. Bucky. It’s Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. You’re okay.”

Bucky punched in the direction of the voice. His punch was… caught. His arm made an electromechanical whir. He opened his eyes.

“Hi Bucky,” Peter smiled at him, holding his metal fist in his hand. “You were having a nightmare. No, no. Don’t move yet.” Peter put Bucky’s hand down onto the bed.

“Peter?” Bucky said hoarsely.

“Yeah,” he smiled again.

“You shouldn’t wake me up from a nightmare. I could hurt you.”

“Hi, I’m Spider-Man. You can’t hurt me. You already tried to hurt me and didn’t. But I didn’t wake you up. I know better.”

“You know better?” Bucky asked, stretching his legs out, one at a time, then his right arm, moving his fingers.

“Nightmares. Kinda the pass-code to the penthouse.”

“Tony?” Peter nodded. “You?” Bucky asked, less credulously. Peter nodded again.

“Welcome to the fabulous superhero life.”

“Some of mine were from before the superhero life,” Bucky said quietly.

“Some of Tony’s. Some of mine, too. It doesn’t matter who has them worse, when they’re happening, they’re all worse.”

“You can go back to bed now, kid. Thanks. But Tony’ll be missing you.”

Peter sucked in his lips, but stayed.

“He’s not in bed?”

“When he’s avoiding nightmares, he doesn’t sleep.”

“Wish I could learn that trick,” Bucky said bitterly. He saw Peter’s expression. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“It could be three days or more before he sleeps. However long it takes his body to pass out this time around. I’ll be there when he needs me.”

“Who’s there for you, kid?”

“Tony is. When I wake up crushed by tons of concrete or seeing my uncle get murdered or clinging onto the skin of an airplane as it falls from the sky or…”

“Price of admission to the Stark Tower penthouse suite,” Bucky said, “one lifetime of nightmares.”

“Basically,” Peter said, nodding. “You okay? Tony doesn’t like being alone after. You used to have Steve…”

Bucky sighed. “Not exactly. Our relationship was…”

“Complicated?”

He chuckled. “That’s one way to put it. The thing you and Tony have? We grew up in a different time.”

“I thought you two were together?”

“We were. But not like you and Tony. It was more… casual.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “You don’t sound casual.”

“It was all it could be. We were looking for different things. The thing I wanted… it wasn’t possible back then. Then other things became a habit… then it was hard to fall out of those habits…”

“Tony had those habits. He told me what it was like. I can’t imagine it. Not really. To know you want one thing, but lie and hide and pretend to want something else. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Fear’s where you begin, Peter,” Bucky said. He rolled onto his side and balled up the pillow under his head. “I’m glad you don’t know where to begin.”

“Tony learned to get over it.”

“He had you to make him want to get over it. A cute boyfriend’s a pretty strong motivator.”

Peter giggled and blushed. “You’re a cute boyfriend, why didn’t Steve get over it?”

“I wasn’t even sure what we were. What we could be. What I even wanted us to be anymore. I had him before the war, I lost him after I shipped out. Then I had him again for awhile during the war and lost him again. Then I had him after HYDRA. But this third time? I think ‘lost’ has finally won. Whatever we might’ve had…” Bucky shook his head. “The Steve I knew, either before or during the war, wouldn’t have made the decision he has. Whoever he’s become, he isn’t my Steve anymore.”

They fell into silence. “Go to bed, Peter. You have class and I have the first of my debriefs with Fury. Trade ya,” he said, smiling.

“Not for all the money in Tony Stark’s bank account.” Peter leaned over and gave Bucky a quick kiss on his temple. “Good night.”

~~~~~

“He had a nightmare,” Peter said, sleepily settling on a stool next to Tony’s workstation.

“Hmm.”

“He and Rogers weren’t… together together.”

“That’s good.”

“The Chitauri are attacking again.”

“Uh huh.”

“TONY!”

“What?” Tony spun on his chair to face Peter.

“Good night, FRIDAY.”

“Good night, Peter. Good night, boss.” FRIDAY powered down the holotables and the screens.

“I thought I told you not to fuck with FRIDAY’s protocols anymore.”

Peter laughed and took Tony’s hands. “Build tighter access to prevent a hardware intercept.”

“No one else but you has access to FRIDAY’s hardware.”

“Then don’t complain about me adding a ‘good night’ protocol to her.” He pulled on Tony’s hands until he was standing and following him.

“I don’t have to follow you upstairs, you know.”

“Yeah you kinda do if you want to keep your hands attached to the rest of you.”

“God, I hate you, Peter Parker.”

“Ya love me and ya know it.”

“He had a nightmare?” Tony asked, having heard the whole thing.

“Uh huh. A bad one. Don’t worry. I was there when he woke up.”

“I do love you, you know.” Tony let Peter finish leading him to their bedroom door. “I’m glad you were able to help him,” he said. “I know it’s not his fault. It doesn’t… make it hurt any less.” he added, quieter.

“It hurts him too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad you helped him.” Tony kissed Peter lightly before closing the door behind them and letting him finish taking him to bed.

#starker #winterironspider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff

[misscellophane-ao3]

Story Title: Meet the parents (Also on ao3)

Teen Mai! She and her partner are around 17 during this and Peter and Harley are around 31-32. To be honest, I have been wanting to write a fic about Mai and Nicky for a while but I've been putting it off for some reason so thank you for actually giving me a reason to finally write one. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you like it~ (Nicky is NB and uses They/Them)

Request by: wtfiswiththisplace on Tumblr

Request Summary: I was wondering if you could write one where Mai is all grown up? Like 17 or something? Maybe about her bringing back her SO to meet the parents? (Set in my AOMPK verse)

Pairings: Peter Parker x Harley Keener

Warnings: Light Cursing

Words: 2534

Story -

“When am I gonna meet your parents?” Mai nearly dropped her phone onto her face in her surprise. She quickly sat up from where she was laying on the bed and turned to look at Nicky. The brunette was staring at her with a frown.

“Nick. Baby. Love of my life. You do not want to meet my parents. They are complete dorks.” Mai replied dryly.

Nicky gave Mai a grin “Which is why I want to meet them!” They replied cheerfully.

“You talk about all the dumb shit they’ve done over the years that it makes me curious.” Nicky added as they got up from their desk chair and jumped onto the bed next to Mai.

Mai rolled her eyes “I don’t talk about them that much!” She huffed.

Nicky stares at her deadpan “Uh yeah. You do.”

Mai felt her cheeks heat up “I-well-whatever! Anyway, why do you want to meet them so suddenly?”

“It’s not sudden. We’ve known each other for three years and have been dating for one of them! I’m honestly surprised I haven’t met your parents before.”

Mai hummed, a little frown on her face “That’s- okay that is a little weird.” She then lit up, “No, wait! You have! Remember the science fair? You saw them then.”

“But like, only your mom and as your classmate and we weren’t dating then. That was also over two years ago.” Nicky gave Mai a pointed look.

“Oh.” Mai deflated, “Right.”

“Do they even know you’re dating someone?” Nicky asked with a playful huff.

Mai rolled onto Nicky, her hands cupped their face as she stared seriously into their eyes “Yes. How could I possibly go a day without informing everyone I know that I am dating the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful, amazing person in the entire world? I couldn’t, I would die. And I can’t die yet, I still have to write that stupid essay for Ms.Simmons' class.”

Nicky blinked a couple of times before giggling “The fuck Mai?”

Mai pecked their lips with a bright grin.

“Just stating the truth, love!” She watched with fondness as a tint of red crept up on beautiful olive skin and Nicky's forest-green eyes lit up with amusement. She already had hundreds of sketches and paintings of Nicky but she knew as soon as she got home she was gonna be adding this memory into her sketchbook, the one she started solely for her art of Nicky.

Nicky smiled up at her, their hands settling on Mai’s waist “So, I can meet them then?” They asked, lightly tapping on Mai's waist.

Mai sighed dramatically “Fine.” She said, drawing the word out, “I guess.”

Nicky cheered “Yes! I get to meet Harley Parker-Keener!” They threw a hand up, nearly knocking Mai right off of them.

Mai laughed out a "Hey!" before adding right after, “And the truth comes out! I knew you were just dating me to get to my father.” Mai pouted but the twinkle of amusement in her eyes gave her away.

Nicky sniffed playfully “Of course!” They agreed, “It’s Harley Parker-Keener!”

“You know, most people would be more excited about meeting Spider-Man.” Mai mused lightly, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Eh, he’s cool too, I guess. But it’s Harley Parker-Keener! He created the most amazing thing to ever exist!”

“I’m adopted.”

“I wasn’t talking about you but you are pretty amazing too.” Nicky teased.

Mai gently swatted them “Hey!” She whined.

Nicky pressed a kiss onto Mai’s cheek “Aw, you know I love you!” They knocked their nose into Mai's cheek.

Mai pressed a smile into their shoulder before snorting and saying “Dad is not gonna let Mama live this down.”

"Live what down?" They asked.

"The fact that my partner is more excited to meet my dad then the actual Spider-Man." She snickered, "Not that Mama would actually care. I think he'd actually be a little relieved."

“That’s means I’m meeting them right?”

Mai sighed and pulled her head back to look them in the face “Yeah alright, Mama has been hinting about wanting to officially meet you anyway.”

And by that, she meant he literally asked her a few days ago during breakfast when she’d bring Nicky over. And honestly? Mai was also surprised it's taken so long for her to introduce them to Nicky. 

 ....

“Hey, can Nicky come over for dinner tomorrow?” Mai asked nervously over steak later that night, glancing between the two.

Peter nearly choked on his drink and Harley grinned brightly, setting down his fork.

“This the same Nicky that you constantly write literal poems about and have about a hundred sketches of?”

“Shut up.” She huffed, she could feel her face heating up.

Harley winked and Peter swatted his arm “Stop that.” He then turned to Mai, his expression gentle, “Of course they can come over. They’re always welcome.”

Mai didn’t realize how nervous she was about asking until she felt her shoulders slump, a bright grin tugged at her lips only to fall right off as her dad added,

“Yeah, I can’t wait to finally put a real face to all those cheesy poems.”

Mai flicked a pea at him. He dodged, unfortunately.

"I wonder if they also have hearts floating around them all the time like in your sketches." Harley added teasingly.

Mai flicked more peas at him making him laugh and throw some right back at her. Before it could escalate into a full-on food fight her Mama cut in with a,

“No throwing food at the table.”

It was a rule that was implemented by Pepper a few years ago when Harley and Mai had got a little too excited and started a full-on food fight between all the Avengers. It was a pain to clean up but so much fun. They may have also broken a few things on accident, including the coffee maker (again) which is why Pepper won’t let them have another food fight. She even had Tony install a protocol on Friday that pretty much grounded whoever is caught throwing food around. Thankfully Friday was more chill when it was just the three of them, she figured the A.I had a soft spot for them but she would never tell Tony that. She's saving that revelation for when she really wants to annoy him, he'd probably mope around all day at the betrayal of his own creation. She mentally cackled at the image.

Outwardly though, Mai shrugged “You’re just salty that you weren’t there for the one and only Avenger food fight.” Mai replied before taking a bite of her mash potatoes.

“I was gone for one day.” Peter complained, slamming his fork down.

Harley patted him on the shoulder “And you missed so much fun.” He sighed dramatically.

Peter gave him a dry look, to which Harley winked at, and Mai laughed.

 ....

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Mai set a hand onto Nicky’s shoulder “Are you okay? We don’t have to go if you changed your mind?” They were on the elevator headed up to Mai’s apartment when Nicky suddenly started to panic, Mai looked them over with concern.

Nicky shook their head “No! I mean,” they cleared their throat, “I’m good. Just a little- do I look okay? What if I embarrass myself? What if he thinks I’m a complete idiot!?”

Mai deadpanned “Is this about my dad again?”

“It’s Harley Parker-Keener! You know how much I look up to him! Even before I knew he was your dad.”

“My last name is literally Parker-Keener. How you didn’t put that together sooner is beyond me.”

Nicky rolled their eyes “Yeah yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Mai huffed a laugh “No, you’re not. But my dad is. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

She paused then added “Except for some teasing. Dad loves to embarrass people.”

Nicky groaned “Not helping.”

Mai giggled “Sorry?” Though she must not have sounded convincing as Nicky just gave her a dry look. “Seriously Nick, It’ll be fine. Did you know he once stuck a bottle of ketchup into the microwave instead of back into the fridge and it exploded everywhere?”

Nicky blinked their eyes at her “Why the hell would he put ketchup in the microwave?”

Mai giggled “He was totally sleep deprived! He hadn’t slept much in over a week because of a project he was doing. Mama made him clean it up after forcing him back into bed. It took him over an hour because the ketchup dried while he was sleeping.”

“Mai, Peter and Harley are wondering if you are going to be leaving the elevator any time soon.”

Nicky’s lip twitched upwards, their body relaxing as Mai talked. They were so focused on Mai that when a voice sounded overhead they jumped “What the fuck?”

Mai threw an arm around their shoulders “That’s just Friday. She’s the A.I I told you about before.”

She glanced up at the ceiling of the elevator “Fri, say hi to Nicky!”

“Hello, Nicky. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Friday replied.

“Uh, Hi.” Nicky greeted shyly.

Mai nudged them “Ready to meet my parents?”

"Wait, do I look okay? I don't want to offend your parents!"

Mai looked Nicky over "Nah, you look fine."

"You sure?"

Mai nodded, a fond smile on her lips, and repeated, "You look fine."

They were wearing pretty much what they usually did, dark jeans and a t-shirt, except a little more dressy, which meant a dark red button-up instead of their usual band T's and the jeans with the least amount of holes. They were going to take out their lip piercing too but Mai loved it too much and pleaded with them to keep it on "My parents really won't care." She had said, "My uncle Loki had his lip pierced for a bit. Nobody cared. My mama actually told him he looked cool."

Nicky swallowed nervously, taking a calming breath before nodding “Right, I guess I'm ready then.”

Mai pecked their cheek and squeezed their shoulders reassuringly.

“Open the doors Fri.”

They stepped out into a massive living room, a hallway opened up just to the left of the elevator and on the opposite wall from them was another shorter hallway that lead the way to the kitchen and dining room. This hallway was where a short brunette walked out from, he was smiling and had on a large MIT hoodie that nearly swallowed his frame.

“Hey!” He greeted cheerfully, “Harls is getting changed, he’ll be back out in a minute.” He then turned to Nicky, “You must be Nicky. It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Peter.”

Nicky smiled back “Nicky. It’s nice to meet you Mr.Parker-Keener.” They said politely.

Peter waved them off “Just Peter is fine!” He replied.

“I prefer darlin’ myself.” A soft drawl came from the hallway next to them before a tall blonde appeared and walked over with a cheeky grin “Hiya, nice to meet ya. I’m-“

Mai swallowed a laugh when she noticed Nicky tense up, their eyes wide and cheeks pink.

“Har-Harley Parker-Keener!” Nicky stammered out, “I-yeah-I-Hi! I mean,” They cleared their throat, “Hi.” They repeated weakly, a slight blush crept up over their cheeks.

Harley blinked surprise before his smile widened “Oh, you know me?”

“Do I-do I know you?” Nicky repeated with a look of disbelief and awe.

Mai couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore “Nick’s a huge fan of you dad!” She proudly stated.

Harley looked genuinely surprised “Oh? Thank you?" He then turned a cheeky grin onto Peter, "Ya hear that? They are a fan of me!"

Peter rolled his eyes with fond amusement "I'm not surprised, you are pretty amazing."

"Not as amazing as you darlin'." Harley instantly shot back with a wink.

Mai groaned "Seriously? Not even a minute and you're already flirting."

"Give us another minute and we could be kissing too." Harley shot back with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Mai gasped, horrified "Don't you dare taint my Nicky!"

"Alright, we'll just leave you two out here and be back in an hour."

Mai grimaced "Oh my god, Dad!"

Harley laughed at her, ruffling her hair.

Peter's face pinked a little and he shot a weak smile at Nicky "Sorry."

Nicky shrugged "It's alright."  They replied with a light grin, keeping most of their attention on Peter so they don't accidentally start fanning out over Harley. They did not want to embarrass themself so quickly after just meeting the man.

"Peter, the bread is done." Friday called out to them.

"Oh!" Peter lit up, "Dinner's ready then! I made lasagna-"

"You mean I made it and you watched me." Harley cut in, wrapping an arm around Peter, grin on his face.

Peter continued as if he didn't hear him "-I hope you like it, I asked Mai what you liked and she said pretty much anything with red sauce or meat."

Nicky gently nudged Mai with their elbow.

"What? It's true!" Mai defended.

"That sounds great. Thank you." Nicky smiled at Mai's parents, they glanced down with a smile when Mai's hand slipped into theirs.

....

The actual dinner portion of the night didn't go too badly either.

Nicky was obviously nervous and Mai could tell they were struggling to keep calm every time her dad opened his mouth. It was hilarious. And Mai laughed loudly and hard enough to bring tears to her eyes when Nicky inevitably did start to fan out over Harley, briefly startling then embarrassing her dad. She noticed he didn't really seem to mind that much though as he happily replied to every question Nicky had for him. Peter and Mai had watched them talk with wide smiles on their faces and fond amusement in their eyes.She knew she was gonna be bringing Nicky over more often now, if only to see them fanning over and embarrassing her dad.

"So, Nicky," Harley had said at one point, "I must say, I'm a little disappointed you don't have literal hearts floating around you."

"uh, sorry?" Nicky apologized confusedly, Mai's cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Oh my god. I hate you." She hissed at her dad.

Peter elbowed him but she could see the twitch to his lips "Mai has a bunch of sketches of you in her art book. Most of them have hearts surrounding you." He explained.

"You're both jerks." She huffed, she was sure her face matched the color of the sauce in the lasagna.

"Oh." Nicky huffed a laugh, "Yeah, I've seen them. It's cute."

“Nicky!”

"Aw, you know I love you." Nicky teased, Mai started to smile.

"Enough to write a cheesy poem?" Harley just had to ruin the moment.

She shot her dad a glare.

She was relieved that Nicky was getting along with her parents so easily and that this went a lot better then she had worried it might (not that she doubted her parents would love Nicky but she had never brought home anyone before), she just wished Nicky didn't bond with them over embarrassing her. 

“Jerks, All of you.” Mai groaned dramatically, an exaggerated pout on her face.

#request fill #cell continues #i had a lot of fun with this #aompk #peter parker #harley keener #parkner #peter parker x harley keener #spideylad #*I decided to use the term fanning out instead of fangirl/ing or fanboy/ing #I don't know if it's a real term but I use it sometimes so I figured it'd be fine #Nicky is a huge fan of Harley and it is taking everything in them to stay calm lol #Sorry for the weird line breaks #it just didnt want to work with me

[rilaya-forever]

The 4 Times Riley Scolds Maya For Cursing (and The 1 Time She Doesn’t)

My first Rilaya fic!!! Or really my first fic... You can find me on archive as polar_wolf13 where I hopefully will be writing more

archive: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20023378

1… “Ah shit.”

Maya glared at the big blue marking on her geometry test as if she could will it to disappear. The 63 bore into her soul with one message: math was definitely not her strong suit. With a huff, she glanced around the room trying to find someone else in her situation. All she found were big brown puppy dog eyes staring at her as if she just committed a felony. “Can I help you, honey?”

“Maya! We're in school! The teacher could have heard you and given you detention or something. Or told my dad,” a pause, “not gonna lie, that would’ve been worse. Plus it’s just a good general rule not to curse and…” Riley was tripping over her own words.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry okay? It just slipped out.” Maya said, smiling softly, reaching out to cup Riley’s face.

It was like Riley’s brain short-circuited and she couldn’t breathe. Her chest was tight and all she could feel was the warmth from Maya’s small palm. She struggled to get past the hazerdous thoughts in her head. “I know, I know. It’s just, you know how I feel about cursing.”

“Yes you have the views of a 90 year old duchess. Or your father…”

“Hey!”

2… They’re in Central Park, waiting on line for the soft pretzel Riley felt like was necessary in her life at this point. It was a gorgeous day, and Riley felt like she was unstoppable. Her hand brushed against Maya’s and her heart started to beat erratically. Maybe not totally unstoppable. There was her one weakness, standing next to her, blonde hair flowing in the wind. Riley was brought back to Earth as Maya ordered for the both of them, making sure to grab a thing of mustard for her pretzel. Riley never understood. In her opinion, pretzels didn’t need anything, especially not any condiment that’s the color of an unhealthy human’s pee.

“Dammit!” Maya breathed out harshly, “Are you shitting me?”

Startled, Riley looked down. A yellow stain blossomed on the grey Cage The Elephant t-shirt the blonde was wearing. Right as she was about to spout out the instructions for this certain stain removal her parents ingrained into her brain, her eyes glanced at a mother frowning at the two of them, covering her young son’s ears as he glanced over curiously. “C’mon Peaches, there are kids here.”

Rolling her eyes, Maya huffed. “This is one of my favorite tees though.”

Riley grabbed the hem at the bottom, examining the stain. “When we get back we can wash it with some dish soap and hot water. If you’re still worried about it staining we can use some cornstarch to soak up any excess oil.”

Regripping the shirt to get a better look, Riley’s knuckles brushed the warm skin right above Maya’s jeans. The blonde let out a strangled noise and Riley glanced to see her best friend looking away, a blush spread across her cheeks. Unsure of what that meant, Riley cleared her throat, trying to forget about the feeling of Maya’s skin against her hand or the way her stomach clenched at the sound that her best friend made. “Don’t worry about the stain, I’ll get it out.”

Maya nodded tersely and quickly changed the subject.

3… Riley heard more then saw her dad come home. Her and Maya were playing Call of Duty on the new xbox Auggie got for his birthday and their eyes haven’t left the screen in 2 hours. “No, no, no, no!” Riley yelled as she saw the number of zombies crawling out of the window down the alley.

Her fingers flew from button to button but she could see she was dying from the red that tinged her part of the screen. She could also tell that Maya was in a similar situation seeing as she shifted to crouching on the balls of her feet on the couch. “Hello girls!” Corey Matthews yelled as he struggled to be heard over the zombie noises and gun shots.

The only real response was Riley waving her hand distractedly at him. Not even a turn of the head. A cry of frustration came from the couch and it was evident the girls had lost the battle. “Do you want to play again?” Riley asked, as Maya put the controller down, cracking her knuckles.

“Nah, but maybe we can play another multiplayer game.”

There was a pause and then a gasp.

“What about gun game?” Riley asked, her face lighting up.

Maya paused, albeit not being able to resist an adorable face like that.

“What? Afraid you’ll be beaten if we don’t do any bots?” Riley taunted, and as Maya leaned forward, something in her gut tightened. The brunette gulped as her best friend smirked, seemingly in the know of the effect she had on the younger Matthews.

“Bitch, please.”

Two exasperated “Maya!”s were yelled, one from the couch, and one from the kitchen.

“Peaches, my dad’s here…” Riley stage whispered and Corey nodded his head dramatically.

“I knew you were a bad influence Hart but…”

“Oh come on. It’s not like we don’t hear it at school, Matthews! Besides, we’re getting older and, y'know, shit happens.”

Another two “Maya!”s were sounded. Maya glanced at Riley and the brunette could see the troublemaker twinkle in her eyes.

“Alright Miss Bad Influence. Let’s see if your bark is worse than your bite.” Riley taunted and held up the xbox controller, again, ignoring any feelings that were a bit more than friendly.

4… “When do you think the foods going to get here?” Maya whined from her side of the booth. Riley giggled and sipped on her milkshake.

“Seriously Riles, if there isn’t food here on the table in the next minute I going to start swinging!”

“And I’ll be here to hold you back.”

Maya laughed, covering one of the brunettes hands with her own. “Oh how romantic, hun.”

Riley knew she was joking, but there was a part of her that wanted to be seen in that way. In a romantic light. Denying her feelings yet again she sighed, “You complete me Peaches.”

Just as Maya opened her mouth, eyes portraying a sense of nervousness, as if she was about to star a serious conversation, their waiter came by, placing Maya’s pancakes and Riley’s waffles in front of them. “Hope you guys enjoy.” He smiles and walks away.

Not even a full second later, Maya is eating, void of any previous nervousness. Riley laughed as her best friend shoveled pancakes dripping with syrup into her mouth. “Fuck this is so good.” Maya practically moaned and Riley’s laugh got caught in her throat.

Her body felt like it was on fire and she couldn't stop staring at the blonde across the table. Her mind focused on that single moment.

The way she bit her lip to say the word “fuck”,

the way her tongue flicked out to wipe the syrup off the corner of her mouth,

the face she made as she seemingly looked into Riley’s soul.

It’s all too much and Riley needed to make it stop. “Maya!” She scolded and one again the blonde laughs.

“Sorry Riles.”

Riley felt her heart start slowing down and began to pour syrup on her waffles. Sooner or later, this feelings thing will need to be addressed. But it was definitely going to be later. ---------- Her heart was pounding and the blood was rushing in her ears. She was trying to understand the events she had just witness. Well, accidentally walked in on. Maya was sitting on a bed with Uncle Josh? Alone? At a party? And they seemed pretty close. It almost looked like Josh was going to kiss her. She tried to focus on the almost part.

She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to figure out a platonic situation so that any of this could make sense and her heart would stay in one piece.

“Riley!” The voice was faint but the brunette knew exactly who it was.

“Go away Maya.” Her voice was wobbly and she couldn’t bear to turn around as the footsteps got closer. Riley realized she was hugging herself, basically pacing back and forth across the corridor. She stopped, back to the girl she had slowly fallen in love with. “Please, just go away.”

“Riley, listen to me.” Maya’s voice was strong and it almost hurt Riley to hear it. “Whatever you think you saw, it was something different.”

“I know, I know. You really really like him and what does three years really mean in the long span of life and…”

“We were talking about you!”

Riley whipped around. How did that make any sense at all. It was like Maya could feel her accusatory thoughts and held a hand out to calm Riley down. “I…” she started but it didn’t seem like she could finish.

Maya Hart was truly nervous. Riley stared, trying to hold in any tears, as the blonde struggled with her sentences. With a scoff, she turned around again, about to walk away from the pain that was wrapped around her heart.

“I’m in love with you.”

The statement hung in the air. Riley felt like time stopped existing and when she spun around, all she could see were the tears threatening to fall in Mayas piercing blue eyes. The brunette took a step towards her and the blonde closed most of the distance.

“There, I said it. I am completely in love with you and I had to tell someone. Josh happened to be the unlucky person, I couldn't stop going on about how beautiful and amazing you are. I think I talked about your eyes for 10 minutes, no joke. And how you make me feel when you smile and how much better you make my life. I talked about all the little things to do to make sure I know I’m loved.”

She paused to wipe a stray tear.

“I spilled about how you make me do things out of my comfort zone and how when I close my eyes, I see you and, ompf!”

Riley surged forward, cradling Maya’s jaw and finally, after all this time, capturing her with a kiss. Maya sighed into it, arms wrapping around the brunette’s torso. Riley pulled back enough to look in the shorter girl’s eyes. “I love you too.”

Maya smiled wide, pushing up on her toes to kiss Riley again.

“Damn Matthews, who knew you got game?”

Their laughter echoed along the corridor. “What? No scolding?”

“To be honest, it’s kinda hot when you curse.”

“Well then…”

#Rilaya #Riley Matthews #Maya Hart #sabrina carpenter #rowan blanchard #girl meets world #disney #f/f #rowbrina #fic

[kyarymell]

[Fic] Sugar Hearts; Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Rating: T

Summary: Even with Raccoon City going to hell, you still end up sharing chocolates with the cute Rookie cop you just met.

Just a quick one-shot for you all, Happy Valentine's Day you love-fools! My boyfriend helped me write this by proxy because I’ve been watching him play the Resident Evil 2 Remake a bunch, giving me details on the universe.

No cover art for now, I’m too tired. xD

You were at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Finally able to take a break from work, you were staying at your friend’s place in Raccoon City. It was strange seeing the military barricades everywhere, but no-one thought anything of it. Random acts of violence eventually became frequent and suddenly everyone was clamoring to the exits.

In the confusion, you were separated from your friend. Days passed holed up in their apartment and you were getting worried.

Even if looking for them spelled out your certain death, you would try. As you came to realise, the situation in the city was no regular occurrence.

Humans once populating the streets, were now mindless walking shells of flesh. It was straight out of a horror movie. Armed with a melee weapon, your first point of visit was the Raccoon City Police Department.

Thankfully, the reanimated corpses were slow, unlike those seen in movies. Running over to the historical site, you saw that the front gate was shut. Narrowly moving out of the way as a zombie lunged, you tried to find another way in.

Walking through a side alley, you find a gate with loose boards against it. Making sure you don’t get splinters, you quietly pry the nails from the boards. Slipping through the gate, you breathe a sigh of relief as you’re able to get away from the rain.

Stumbling into the main hall, miserable and wet, is when you meet Lieutenant Marvin Branagh. He’s heavily wounded, bleeding profusely from his injuries. You wish there was something you could do, but there’s no first aid kit in sight.

“Didn’t think there were any civilians left alive around here.”

“Then that means...”

“We were overrun a few days ago. I’m sorry. There were so many people coming and going- I can’t say if your friend was here.”

Downcast, you bit your lip. So that’s it then. Where would you even go now? Zombies surrounded the station as far as the eye could see. Your friend... maybe if you weren’t so scared hiding out in their apartment you’d reunite with them.

Maybe-

“You wanted to show me something, Lieutenant?”

Jumping, you were so deep in thought you didn’t even notice the newcomer. Judging by his uniform, he had to be a police officer. He looked young, hair clinging to his forehead from the rain.

This is your first introduction to Leon S. Kennedy, a rookie cop who was late for work and happened to miss the apocalypse. You’re in his company after Marvin fills you in on the situation- finding a way out by opening a secret passageway.

“Strength in numbers. Remember that.”

It sounds surreal, but then again, you’re in a historical building surrounded by zombies. Secret passages shouldn’t phase you by now. Before heading out of the main hall together, the pair of you make introductions and you find out it’s (technically) his first day on the job.

“Damn, that sucks.”

There’s nothing much to say- passing by what seems to be an office, there’s a banner with the words ‘Welcome Leon’ strung on the ceiling. It’s almost sad to think about his department throwing a party for a person who would never come.

“I couldn’t just abandon the other guys out here. I had to see what was going on.”

“I see…”

The way he speaks is with a hint of regret and you’re feeling it- too frightened to find your friend sooner. You wish you had that sort of confidence. The rookie noticed your faraway look and shot you a smile.

“As long as we stick together, we’ll be alright. Hopefully I’ll find some answers as to what’s going on.”

Trying to ignore how attractive he looked when he smiled, you nodded. It would be nice to know who was to blame for everything becoming fucked up like this.

A lot goes down in the next hour. You’ve been given a knife to fend off any attacks and you find it useful when a zombie grabs you from behind. Sticking your knife in it, you shove it away as Leon shoots it squarely in the head.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You’re not sure how much help you can be in this situation, with no combat experience to speak of but you can reach and grab things that Leon is unable to. Things continue like this for a while, collecting keys and finding parts to mechanisms.

Then, Leon’s foot goes through a loose floorboard in the library.

“Shit-!”

With all the gear he was carrying, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Diving for him, you grabbed his arm before he fell completely. The zombies on the floor below were alerted to the noise, grasping for his foot. He was heavy- but was able to regain his footing before falling completely.

“Thanks. Guess we’re even now. Let’s go before they catch up to us.”

“Sure.”

If you had to be honest, it was good to have someone watching your back, after days of being alone. Leon was considerate, making small talk when he saw how nervous you were. After running from monsters of all types, you felt a little hopeful that you would make it out alive.

Coming to a dark, quiet hallway Leon motioned for you to stay behind him. Trusting his judgement, you were a few paces behind him. Something still didn’t feel right.

“Le-?!”

You were about to call out to him, until you find yourself pinned against the wall. The rookie’s hand was clamped onto your mouth, effectively silencing you. There was a moment of confusion, then you saw a mass of flesh and bone crawl slowly past.

Every time it made a movement, there was a clicking noise across the floorboards. Claws. You willed yourself to stay put, hoping you wouldn’t be shredded to pieces.

The pair of you leaned against the wall, listening for the creature’s whereabouts. Sweat beaded on your forehead as Leon held you tight, his breath hot on your ear. Trembling, you tried to focus on how warm his body was and not how terrified you were.

After a tense moment of silence, Leon released you.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “I’ve encountered one of those things before. They react to sound.”

Nodding, you slowly walked with him and winced when the floor creaked under your boot.

Thankfully, the creature didn’t come back.

It was a blur after that; unlocking the passageway out, Marvin succumbing to his wounds and reaching the parking lot. There was a race against time, reassembling the circuit board to the jail and grabbing the parking key card.

All the while, you were running from some crazed giant mutant who was hell-bent on seeing you both dead. Finally losing the creature and opening the garage door, you were the closest to death you’ve ever been. Caught off-guard, a mutated dog tackled you to the ground.

Desperately trying to get yourself free, you moved to grab your knife and shoved it straight into the creature’s throat. Staggered, you kick it away and Leon is able to shoot it cleanly.

“You alright?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. Were you bitten? Would you become one of those things? Numb, your companion led you by the arm out of the parking garage.

Feeling raindrops on your skin pulls you out of your shocked state. Oh, how you were so glad to see the night sky again.

“I…”

“C’mon.”

Exhausted from the ordeals thus far, the pair of you take a breather after barricading a small newsagency. Setting yourself down on the floor, you’re relieved to be able to rest for once. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you hugged your knees tight.

It’s been horrible from the get go- you’re not sure how much more you can take of this. All the blood, seeing those things rend and tear flesh from each other…

Leon sits next to you, taking you out of your thoughts. There’s a square-shaped box in his hands and you can feel a slight chill radiating off it. The sound of the box unwrapping brings your attention to what’s inside.

Chocolates.

“Found these in the back, I think they’re free from infection.”

There’s a theory between the two of you that the cause of zombies was due to an outbreak.

“You think they’re free from infection?”

As you’re questioning him, he’s already popped one into his mouth. Shocked, you lean over and squeeze on his chin.

“Wait! Spit it out!”

Choosing to ignore your concern, he swallows it down then offers you a piece.

“Have some, they’re pretty good.”

“Leon…”

Frowning, you really don’t have the stomach for this sort of thing but take one anyway. Chewing on the sweet confection, you found yourself yearning for the days when things were normal. Perhaps some sugar was good for you, after the shock you just experienced.

“You’re right. They are good.”

Leon nodded and the two of you sat there for a while, sharing the chocolates. Your thoughts wandered. If only something like this could happen under normal circumstances…

How much more were you to endure before getting out of here? It was frustrating being on the receiving end of the rookie’s kindness all the time.

“I’m sorry that you end up saving me a lot.”

Your companion shook his head.

“You’ve had my back more than once- remember when I got grabbed and you threw me your knife?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you were unsure of what to say.

“-and those weird puzzles we always seem to come across, you solve them pretty quickly.”

“Well…”

“I’m glad I met you.” his words are genuine and it ignites a heat in your chest.

Would you get another chance like this?

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from earlier wearing off, but you allow your eyes to shut, pressing your lips against his. Subconsciously, your tongue darts out and you taste the lingering sweetness from the chocolate.

Gasping, you pull away from him as if burned.

“I’m sorry! Uh, we just met and-“

He gives you a smile-

“Nah, it’s fine.”

-and leans in to kiss you again.

#resident evil 2 #re2 #resident evil 2 remake #re2 remake #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader

[bensboynton]

Good Enough b.h; Part 1

Requested: no

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: swearing, unedited. 

“Will I ever be good enough for anyone?”

“You’ve been good enough for me since the beginning.”

In which a singer tries her hand at acting, and ends up with a lot more than she bargained for. 

A/N: this is my first attempt at a longer fic, forgive me if anything is inaccurate/grammar mistakes/mistakes in general it’s 1 am and i haven’t slept in the past 28 hours and i just wanted to get this up.  – “You got the part.”

“What? Wait, is this a joke? Are you serious right now?” your lungs didn’t seem nearly big enough, as you desperately gasped for air. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I’m completely serious! You landed the role. You’re Mary Austin. How does it feel to be able to say that? You’re Mary fucking Austin.”

Your heart was pounding in the chest as you were on the phone with your manager, Anthony. This was it. This was your big break in the industry. You just landed the role of the woman who stole Freddie Mercury’s heart.

You had been wildly successful in the music industry for almost five years, as you were about twenty-two shows away from finishing your second world tour for your sophomore album. And while writing music, performing said music, wrapping your tongue around unfamiliar languages and your mind around foreign cultures satisfied you, you always yearned for more. And that’s what led you to acting.

At first, it was an idea you had late at night. “What if I started to act?” But you shot the idea down yourself. You convinced yourself it’d be a distraction. Your manager would never say yes, it’d be too much work for you to handle, you wouldn’t be good at it. Not to mention the extra stress that would’ve been added to your already quite strained schedule. And on top of that, most singers never made it in the acting industry. But once the seed of this idea was planted in your brain, it began to grow. It soon became all you could think about. So, after a few extremely long phone calls with your manager and a few meetings in the city, you managed to set up your first audition. And the rest is history.

At first, you did a few commercials for some popular brands. Some advertising videos, skits for Facebook and Instagram, a few small parts in tv shows and smaller movies here and there, but nothing too major. However, when you heard a murmur through the grapevine about the part of Mary Austin in a biopic about Queen? For a lack of a better way to describe your emotions, you just about shit your pants.

Queen has been one of your favorite bands your entire life(thanks to your father), and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Freddie Mercury and Queen were your heroes. Freddie was the main reason you decided to start writing music, and that beautiful man made you fall in love with the art of performance. You took inspiration from him in almost every single aspect of your life. You couldn’t just let an opportunity like this pass you by.

You had submitted an audition tape to the producers one day after a particularly tiring show in Belgium, following a two-week crash course with a dialect coach practicing your British accent. You quickly ran through a few lines of the emotionally extensive script, submitting your video a few moments later. And about four days following the submission of your video, you got a phone call from your manager telling you that you did, indeed, land the part. And you were ecstatic. You were even more elated when you received a similar phone call informing you who got the part of Freddie Mercury; one of your good friends, Rami Malek. You screeched so loud one of the people in the hotel room next to yours came over to ask if you were all right. But you were far better than just “all right.”

You had met Rami backstage before an interview you did with him on Jimmy Fallon’s show, and you two exchanged phone numbers and the rest was history. The both of you were best friends for a while; practically inseparable. The both of you were hanging out at least every other day before distance slowly caused you to drift apart. But a gap between you wouldn’t really be any interference since you’d be working on this movie together. Problem solved.

And so, after a few headaches and way, way too many phone calls(all of which were extremely unnecessary to you), you rearranged the final three shows of your tour to leave you right smack dab in the middle of London, right where you needed to be to begin filming this movie. Everything was beginning to fall into place. – You slowly stretched your arms up over your head, arching your back and cracking your neck. Today. Today was the day you finally got to begin shooting Bohemian Rhapsody.

You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. When you heard the news of your success at landing the role as Mary, time started to pass by as if it was in slow motion, and days started to drag on as you waited for shooting to begin. You could only reread the script so many times before it became so mind-numbing it made you sick to even look at it.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck, you looked at yourself in the hotel mirror. The bags under your eyes were slightly apparent, and you made a note in your head to try and cover them up before leaving your room and checking out.

You grabbed your cellphone and unplugged it from its charger, typing in your passcode and pressing your boyfriend’s contact. The phone rang for a while, but no answer. Your heart sunk slightly at the sound of his voicemail.

“Hey, Y/BF/N. Just wanted to call and say hey before I head to set. I hope your tour is going well, I love you and can’t wait to see you. Talk to you later.”

You sighed gently as you hit the circular “end call” button and set your phone down. No more time for being sad over the strange lack of contact with your significant other. You had a movie to film.  

You checked over your room quickly, just to be sure you had packed everything. After all, having all of your clothes would be imperative for the lengthy stay in your new trailer.

Hearing the news that you got to live in your very own trailer while on set was weirdly exciting for you. It felt like a rite of passage, almost like it validated your acting career in an odd way.

Wheeling your two extremely full suitcases behind you, and your backpack sitting gracefully on your shoulders, you slowly but surely made your way to the lobby of the hotel you were staying in. You swiftly checked yourself out and made your way to the notably empty parking lot. Made sense that it would be empty. After all, it was almost 5 am in London.

A black SUV was awaiting you near the doors, ready to take you to your new home for the next few months. Saying you were excited was an understatement.

Making small talk with your chauffeur for the morning, Todd, you admired his thick British accent. You appreciated his unique pronunciation of the words you knew and the few pieces of British slang that were unfamiliar to your remarkably American brain. Hopefully you’d start picking up on those sooner or later. You pretended to be mildly interested in Todd’s ranting about his three children as you lazily twisted your hair around your index finger, head rested against the tinted window. But to be honest, your mind was elsewhere.

You began nervously biting at your already extremely bitten nails as you neared closer and closer to the filming location, thoughts beginning to race through your mind. What if the cast didn’t like you? What if you embarrassed yourself? What if you suddenly forgot all your lines? What if you were so bad at acting they fired you on the spot?

Your worrying was cut short as the short and stout driver with grey stubble pulls onto a gravel road, pulling up to a security gate. He rolls down the window and tells the woman standing in the tiny concrete building to the left of the car something about dropping you off, but you aren’t paying much attention. You’re too busy watching the busy hustle and bustle up ahead, of tons of people with jobs and places to be and things to do. It seems as if everyone is running out of time, due to the quick pace that they’re all walking. The driver pulls up to an average sized building with two very heavy duty black doors.

“I’ll drop you off here, and then I’ll run your bags to your trailer if that’s all right with you Miss Y/L/N.” Todd’s voice snaps you back to reality. “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you, Todd.” he nods as you slowly clamber out of the car, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and walking into the building. You can feel your heart beginning to speed up its rhythm in your chest.

You walk up to the shiny black desk in front of you, about to ask the friendly looking receptionist where you’re needed before an enthusiastic voice echoes through the lobby.

“Y/N!” you turn around to see none other than Rami Malek standing before you. You grin as you run straight into him, your chin resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pull away as he gives you a quick peck on the cheek. “Long time no see, ay?” you hum, looking at the familiar man as he grins and looks down at his shoes. You admire the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Oh, how you missed him.

“You know, I almost cried when I heard you got the part.” He spoke with an eloquence unmatched by anyone you had ever met before. His voice sent shivers down your spine. “And why was that?” you inquired, as he slowly brought his eyes back up to meet yours.

“Because I knew I couldn’t do it with anybody else. It needed to be you. I just had this feeling, you know? And with our friendship, I knew our chemistry would be good. I was just really excited.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, as you tucked a piece of your soft hair behind your ear. It was strange, with Rami. You hadn’t heard from him in months, yet the conversation flowed with ease, almost as if you last talked two days ago.

“You should’ve heard me when I found out you were Freddie.” Rami cocked an eyebrow at your statement as he offers his left arm. You accept his invitation, interlocking your right arm with his as you start walking alongside him, “I was screaming bloody murder. The hotel sent someone from the front desk up to check on me,” Rami let out a loud chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you, a twinkle in his bulbous orbs.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something for Rami when you first met him. I mean, who could blame you? A fashion-conscious, well spoken, educated man? In this economy? A rare occurrence, at best.  You started to fall for him when your friendship was at its peak, but it just doesn’t feel the same now. Besides, you now have a loving boyfriend, and Rami has an absolutely beautiful girlfriend. No need to “mingle” with any of your castmates.

You continued your walk down a particularly long hallway with locked arms in silence. But, it was a comfortable silence. That was your favorite thing about Rami. No matter what, he always made you feel at ease. You finally reached a certain door that Rami stopped at, taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Ready to meet the rest of the band?” you nodded quickly, trying to gather yourself to make the best first impression you could. It was almost as if Rami could sense your nerves.

He gave your arm a comforting squeeze, a slight grin causing the left corner of his mouth to curve upwards into a smile. As you said, he was always able to calm you down. He pushed the door open, and it was almost as if the sound erupting from the tiny room slapped you across the face. Rami grinned at you sheepishly, an apology already bubbling at his lips before you walked swiftly into the room.

“Guys, can you all shut your traps for two goddamn seconds and meet Y/N?” Rami’s voice carried, and suddenly the volume level in the room decreased dramatically. Three unfamiliar eyes were suddenly trained on you, and you sent them a nervous smile, tucking your long hair behind your ear, twisting it around your index finger. This was something you tended to do when you were nervous.

 A particularly tall man started walking toward you, a big smile on his elongated face. You imagined him with a mop of curly hair, and immediately knew that this must be the man playing none other than Brian May. 

“You must be Gwilym, right?” you smiled, reaching out to shake his abnormally large hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Amazing to finally meet you, Y/N. Rami has told us loads about you.” you smiled up at him, as you were about 6 inches shorter than his towering figure. He made small talk with you, asking about your flight to London and if you had any trouble arriving on set. 

“Oh. My. God. It’s you. It’s really you. I’m in a room with THE Y/N. Wow. I might pass out. Am I dreaming?” a man with curly hair joked, his thick sarcasm lacing his words as he turned to the man next to him. “Pinch me. Wake me up from this dream. It’s too good to be true.” you laughed, shaking your head as you looked up to meet his eyes as he started walking towards you. You curled your finger around a strand of hair as the stranger walked towards you. 

“And you must be Joe!” you held out your hand, only to be engulfed in the slightly taller man’s arms. “You’re my new best friend, and best friends don’t shake hands. We hug.”

And although Joe was joking, you clung to his words for a few seconds. It warmed your heart to think that he was already so accepting of you. “This is my other best friend, Allen. Sorry new bestie, you’re going to have to share me. I have a lot of best friends. But there’s plenty of this,” he points at himself, “to go around. I promise.” you giggled, lightly hitting his forearm with the back of your hand. It’s actually quite insane how comfortable you felt around him already, despite you knowing him personally for approximately a minute and a half. You looked up, swiftly scanning the room to look for the final member of the main cast you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. Gwil must’ve seen you look around because he did the same thing. “Has Anyone seen Ben recently? Or did he sneak off for a smoke again?”

“He left about ten minutes ago. Either taking a really, really, nice shit or went to smoke. I’ll let your beautiful minds decide what you want to believe,” Joe’s comment left the entire room laughing lightly under their breath as they returned back to whatever they were doing before you had walked in. 

You had been sitting on the couch for about twenty minutes, talking to Joe and answering his many questions about your childhood, career, upcoming music, college and, strangely, what movie you would choose if you could only watch one for the rest of your life. You saw how he could potentially come off as nosy to a high-strung individual, but to you, he was just curious and always had a desire to learn more. You admired that about him, as you were very similar.

The door of the tiny room opened, and a man with fluffy, slightly untidy blonde hair briskly strolls into the room, slipping off the brown leather jacket snugly hugging his muscular shoulders. Your eyes followed him for a split second and it took everything in you to tear your eyes away from the Greek God that just waltzed into the room.

“There he is! My boyfriend. I missed you SO much.” Joe grasped his chest, motioning at the man to walk over. The mysterious man shook his head and let out a soft laugh, his head down as he typed furiously into his phone. You stood up quickly, smoothing out the front of your shirt. Joe gestured to you, and his eyes swept over you quickly, causing a small bout of butterflies to swarm through your empty stomach. You swore your heart was beating so loud, everyone in the room could hear it echoing in your chest. 

“You must be Ben. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m-” you began to introduce yourself to the unreasonably attractive man, holding your hand out before he interrupts you. “Y/N.”

“Y-Yeah that’s me.”

The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. It caught you off guard. His green orbs that glimmered with a tinge of blue slowly met yours, and he smiled sheepishly, before breaking the eye contact and dropping your hand. There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you, even amidst the chatter of the room. Ben opened his mouth like he was about say something, before a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Hey hey hey, let’s not get too comfortable over there. That’s my boyfriend. Back off Y/N!” Joe spoke from across the room, sarcastic anger dripping from his mocking words. Ben rolled his eyes, mouthing a “sorry” to you before walking away from you, aimlessly making his way to the other side of the room.

You were left alone, and you rubbed the back of your neck with your right hand. It wasn’t normally like you to act so awkward and secluded around someone, especially someone you didn’t know. 

But, nevertheless, you could finally check one thing off your list of worries. The cast was absolutely amazing. Now all you needed to stress about was actually filming the movie.

But little did you know, that would soon become the very least of your worries.

#ben hardy #ben hardy headcanon #ben hardy fic #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap cast #borhap boys #borhap #queen band #roger taylor #rami malek #gwilym lee #allen leech #joe mazzello

[fluidityandgiggles]

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 17

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Chapter 10, Chapter 15, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): Happy school year in two weeks, folks.

Not gonna lie, I actually had a plan for this chapter, and then forgot it. So... yeah, not the most cohesive or best chapter, but I got it out, and it’s nice, and I like it this way because it’s a break from the wave of panic attacks and mild transphobia the last chapter or two.

Yes, I’m back home now, and I’m doing actually much better mentally and physically than I have since September till June. But the chapters are gonna take a while longer to write from now on, because I’m about to join the scary world of job searching for the unstable ADHD brain, not to mention being involved in three regular ttrpg campaigns (where I play a halfling sorcerer, and a half-elf bard, and also DM the third one), so... my brain is busy. But I promise this fic isn’t going on hiatus! I’m still extremely dedicated and excited to be writing this fic. I love it so much. Honest.

As per every chapter, thanks go to @whatwashernameagain for KHS and for generally being a wonderful human, to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for putting up with my fangirl-levels of excitement over everything (and coming up with the original idea), to @winglessnymph, @asleepybisexual and @anony-phangirl - who, while I know they’ve all fallen out of the loop, continue to have long-lasting effects on this fic as a whole - and new to this list, to @ilovemygaydad, who I’ve asked to beta this fic for me and I hope they’d have time for that starting with the next chapter.

Happy start of college and good luck, my darling dear child. I love you.

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @sweet-and-sour-shadowling, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @violetblossem, @maybe-i-like-the-misery, @book-of-charlie, @thatsanswitch, @thatrandomautist, @thebiggestgaypirate, @marshmallow-the-panda

(Wanna be tagged? Lemme know!)

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter is light on the transphobia, but includes aphobia, deadnaming, panphobia (yes, pansexuality was a term in the early 00s, as I learned just half an hour ago) and vague mentions of child abuse.

—————

Sunday, July 27th, 2003

Incoming call: 218-357-5555

"Ye—"

"Remy? I didn't forget your number? Oh good!"

"...Emile?"

"Yeah?"

"...what's this phone number, darling?"

"Oh! Yeah, I… my phone died, so I got a new one! Sorry I didn't tell you sooner… but, umm, I'm gonna get to the point, yeah okay, happy birthday!"

"Thank… you…? Em, you shouldn't have—"

"Ah, but see, that's where you're wrong! Because I had to, because I said that I have to! You're my best friend in the whole world, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least call you to say happy birthday?"

"You're precious, darling."

"Thank you! Oh, did you get my gift yet? I sent it to you in the mail last month! Did you—"

"I did, it was… well, it was unexpected, I'd give you that. Where did you even find a Jack mug anyway?"

"Disneyland…?"

"...you know what, that's fair."

"Yeah! So, happy birthday! I'll be in Manhattan next week, so like… do you wanna go see a show or something…? I haven't seen the Gypsy revival yet…"

"...it's a date, then. But you're paying."

"Yes, yes of course! It's gonna be alright, okay? You trust me?"

"With my life."

"Yay! Okay, okay, umm… yeah. I miss you! Happy birthday!"

"Thank—"

"I gotta go right now at this second it's my cousin's bat mitzvah in two days and I need to get my suit and everything but I'll call you tomorrow evening too okay?"

"Sure… have fun, darling."

"Thank you! Okay, bye!"

—————

"India M—"

"Why didn't you tell me Emile has a new number? I cannot fucking believe you!"

"He wanted to do it himself, peach. On your birthday."

"Okay… okay, I guess that's fair…"

"Happy birthday, too."

"Thanks, mom…"

"So… how'd you spend the week?"

"Nothing big happened… my dad took me to see Nina West last night. It was the fucking best."

"I'll bet. Did you have fun?"

"So much fun! She's fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly. I'd give anything for her to either do me or spare a bit of her funny to me."

"Wow… gay much?"

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, it's fine. I still need to take Jenna to a drag show sometime. Did anyone hit on you…?"

"You'll be surprised how many people hit on my dad, actually. But no. I actually broke up with Chris today because of this."

"Oh? Do tell."

"It wasn't… much. He called me a couple hours ago to say happy birthday, which is fine if you ask me but I just… it ended in him trying to talk me into not talking to Emile again. And that's normal, okay, ain't something I can't handle. But he said ‘sure he's asexual, when he isn't spreading his legs to everyone he's asexual'."

"...did he seriously think he can get away with it?"

"India, no—"

"I don't give a fuck anymore, peach. I'm not going to beat him up, you have nothing to worry about, I just… this shit is so fucking infuriating!"

"I know. But hey, look at the bright side. Ulysses and Mandy said they'll take over next year, I'm gonna let them know. He won't be back."

"That's… that's true. I'll call Mandy later. Don't worry about it. Just… what then?"

"Then I told him that it wasn't his choice, he didn't choose any of it, so he said ‘just like you couldn't choose to stay a girl, Rebecca'."

"...oh yeah. Yeah, definitely. I'm telling Mandy. She'll deck him for sure next time she sees him."

"Thanks, mom. I just… I so wanted to deck him right then! So I gave him a piece of my mind, broke up with him and hung up and deleted his number. Now we wait and see what's gonna happen."

"Good boy. I taught you well."

"Thanks… again… he also said that asexuality isn't real, and—"

"I'm flying down to Texas right now to sock him. I took karate for three years. I can do this."

"India, no… hon. Babe. You need to get settled in DC. You need to—"

"I'm buying the plane tickets right now, Remy! Watch me!"

"—You need to get your life together and get your master's degree. You do not, however, need to go break the nuts of someone who doesn't deserve your attention—"

"Who's the older and wiser one of us?"

"Right now? Not you. You told me this very thing when I wanted to kill that asshole who made a joke out of Emmy, I'm telling you this now. Don't."

"...fine. But if I ever do get the opportunity, I'm doing it."

"Good for you."

"Nobody plays my kids dirty like that."

"You go, mom."

"I will! Oh shit, I have to go!"

"What? Why—"

"I forgot Jenna's parents are coming over today and I need to go pick them up from the airport. I'll call you later to keep catching up, okay peach?"

"Okay, but—"

"Awesome, happy birthday, we love you! See you in two weeks!"

"...see y—"

—————

"...Remy?"

"Good evening, Linda… where's Leah?"

"...and here I thought you called to talk to me. But I suppose I'm only your mother, nothing—"

"Mom, please, I'll talk to you after I tell Leah something really important."

"Alright, I'm sorry. But you got the package we sent you, didn't you?"

"I did, I… I just don't understand. You painted that…?"

"Who else would sign my name on a canvas, Remy?"

"You're… right. I'm sorry. It's very nice. Thank you."

"Happy birthday, son."

"Thank… you…"

"...hello?"

"Leah…? Leah, sweetie, can you hear me?"

"Remy! Oh, oh oh oh Remy I told you I'd tell you about my camp and—"

"And how was your time at camp? Take a breath and then tell me."

"Okay! Okay, so, so we were in the woods, and in cabins, and I kinda wanted to sleep in tents but it didn't happen and it was kinda disappointing but I can always do that later, and…"

—————

August 2003

There was a blackout as Remy was trying to write an essay Dr. Gilliam asked of his class.

So his dad put him on a bus to Georgia, which is why he's making do right now at doing his schoolwork with two children running around.

"We gotta go bowling too!" Leah whispered excitedly. For the fifteenth time this hour. "And then we need ice cream, and, umm, I know where the puppies are, and—"

"Leah, love, I need to finish this essay for school right now. Give me a couple minutes, about twenty, and I'll be with you, okay?"

"Okay!"

Remy couldn't be happier to be there at that moment. He had a plane ticket booked to Boston, his rooming was already set at Lowell, the papers have all been set and he was about to room with Emile, Mandy called him the other day to ask if he'd like to help her run the queer society meetings (and of course he said yes)...

And then there was a crashing sound. And a crying toddler sound. And he had to put his laptop aside to go check on Rachel.

More like run to the kitchen to check on Rachel, who was now standing in front of broken pieces of cheap china and bawling her eyes out.

"No, sweetie, it's okay…" he picked her up and started playing with her hair, hoping to calm her down. "We're gonna clean this, okay? What were you doing with the plate?"

"Tea party!"

"You wanna have a tea party?" She nodded, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "Okay… okay. Let's wash your face, then pick up the pieces, and then make some tea and have a tea party with your dollies. Okay, love?"

She nodded again, and he kind of had no choice. So he did what he said he'd do, sitting Rachel down in her high chair as he cleaned the broken pieces, and for a moment, he felt like an absolute idiot. He felt like he was his mom.

Well… like Rachel was his mom, and the plate was him, and he was his dad, and holy fuck Emile's show analysis habits have definitely had an effect on him and he really should stop thinking about all this ridiculousness right now.

"Remy?" Leah whispered from behind him as he was picking up the shards. Rachel was entertaining herself, rather unaware of what's going on. "Is daddy gonna be mad?"

"I—" He had to stop. And think before answering. "I don't think so, honey."

"But a plate broke…"

"...he doesn't have to know. It was just a plate. He doesn't count the plates in the cupboard, now does he?" She shook her head, her hair flying everywhere. "So he won't know. Because we won't tell him."

"Okay. I can do that."

"I know you can do that, hon. Now, how about you get your roller skates and we'll go to the park?"

"But you said tea party…"

"We can have a tea party after the park. Rachel, do you wanna go to the park?"

Rachel, who up until then mostly minded her own business, looked over and started nodding with a big smile on her face.

"So we can go to the park and then have a tea party. Where's your roller skates?"

—————

Saturday, August 30th, 2003

"It's always nice to see new faces at the queer society meetings," Mandy said with a huge smile on her face as she balanced the clipboard on her knee, Remy holding her iced coffee. "I'm glad you all could make it today. Now, let's do a name round. Everyone state your preferred name - please no dick jokes, we have people who are very uncomfortable with those in this group as well - and what brings you here, and a small fact you'd like people to know about yourself if you'd want to."

Remy just kept looking over the room. Mandy had this all under control, already having printed out a list to put everyone's names and contacts in for if they need to. India trained her well.

From the corner of his eye, Remy could see Emile bouncing in his seat.

"I'll go first. Hi, I'm Amanda, I go by Mandy, I'm pansexual—"

"That's not a real word," someone called out. Remy did his best not to glare at the person.

He was pretty sure it's Chris.

"Pansexual is a word, Christian," Mandy replied, not even looking at him. "It was coined before your grandmother was even born. Anyway, I'm Mandy, I'm pansexual, and I'm in this wheelchair today because I have fibromyalgia and today is a very bad pain day. Who wants to go next?"

It was the same old sharing circle. Some people elaborated more, some people chose not to. Emile went ham on sharing, telling everyone he was gay and asexual and talking about his bunnies at length, looking as proud as he can be.

And then it got to Remy. And he wasn't nearly as anxious as he was last year.

"I'm Remy, I'm gay and transgender, and my therapist said I can start hormone therapy this year."

#kylo cant write #sanders sides #remy/sleep #emile picani #keep him safe #sleep is for the weak #the remy centric prequel #tw: period appropriate transphobia #tw: aphobia #tw: panphobia #tw: mentions of child abuse #tw: deadnaming

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

Ready, Set, Please Don’t Go

Killian Jones walks in on his daughter in a compromising position, leading to the realization that his little girl really is growing up.

Author’s Note: Here's another snippet set in the Finding Neverland universe. It's absolutely unnecessary to read Finding Neverland to understand this story, though readers of the original my remember a "library incident" mentioned in a chapter of this story. hat being said, this turned out way different than I expected it to go, which is the best/worst part of writing fic. I hope you all enjoy! Also, this story is dedicated to the wonderful @distant-rose, who is amazing and wonderful and a fantastic friend.

Rating: M (strong language and sexual situations)

[AO3]

XXXXXX

It starts with an admission of a high school tryst.

They’re back in Storybrooke, making the most of a long weekend away from work and research. There’s a festival going on, because somewhere over the near thirty years of the town’s existence, they’ve embraced celebrating. Juliet’s grandmother says it’s because everyone learned all too well how easy it is to lose everything. Whatever the reason, Juliet is fond of the fact that she gets to wander around various booths with his fingers twined around her boyfriend’s and enjoying the familiarity of coming home.

Juliet likes to think she’s come a long way since she was the girl who left Storybrooke for New York City four years ago. She has a degree and a license that actually says she’s twenty-one, but it’s more than that. She likes to think she’s matured, and though she has no inclinations of returning back to her hometown anytime soon, she now embraces the coziness of it all. And, well, the girl of four years ago never would have imagined holding hands with Gideon Gold as they traipsed down Main Street, happy and deliriously in love. 

They’d only been in the same school for a year, her a freshman and he a senior, but he Juliet Jones of Storybrooke High hadn’t been particularly kind to Gideon. She’d been a little too conscious of their respective places in the high school caste system. Even as a freshman, she’d been fawned over by her classmates as a member of the Charming family, The Savior’s daughter, and Henry’s sister. The son of the Dark One didn’t warrant the same favor. It was only once they were both in New York, she starting at Columbia and him finishing up his degree at NYU, that they’d begun to forge a closer relationship, and later, a romantic one.

She supposes his loner nature and her role as the school’s “princess” only furthers the cliche nature of their relationship. When they had made it public they were dating, Neal had monologued the opening lines of Romeo and Juliet.  (“Two families both alike in dignity, in fair Storybrooke we build our scene…” “I hope you realize this means you die too, asshole.”) They might as well add the damn John Hughes movie to the list.

But it doesn’t matter. They’re happy, in love, and openly together in Storybrooke.

They’re in line for cotton candy, Gideon whispering into her ear about the unhealthiness of eating pure sugar, when they bump into old friend hers from high school, Viola. It’s not unexpected. Most people don’t leave Storybrooke or choose to come back to Storybrooke, after all, and they exchange pleasantries.

“How are you liking the big city? I don’t think I could deal with that many people. The traffic alone…”

“That’s what the MTA is for,” Juliet replies with a laugh. To be honest, her friendship with Viola had been one that drifted after she left for Columbia. It was one that Juliet now realizes was born out of proximity and not very many common interests. “But, seriously, it’s great. We’re really happy.” She flashes a grin up Gideon.

He returns her grin with one of his own. God, she loves his smile. “I dunno, I’m pretty damn miserable.”

“A miserable liar, maybe.” Juliet turns her attention back to Viola, who is watching them with an incredulous expression. Maybe this isn’t what Viola expected of the Juliet of four years ago. Maybe it’s not what she would have expected either. Knowing the conversation will only grow more stitled from there, Juliet focuses on what Viola clearly wants her to notice. With exaggerated excitement she doesn’t feel, she asks, “Holy shit! Is that a ring?”

Viola waves her left hand, where a diamond sits. “Yes, Aidan proposed! You’ll have to come back up for the wedding. We’re thinking next April.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” To be honest, Juliet hadn’t known Viola was even dating Aidan.   Oh well. Thankfully, they’re saved from more conversation by the cotton candy. They bid their farewells, and go their separate ways.

“Are we seriously going to go her wedding?” Gideon asks once they’re far enough out of earshot. He steals a bite of her cotton candy -- the hypocritical bastard -- before saying, “I wouldn’t really mind, but I only have the vaguest idea of who she is.”

“God, no,” Juliet replies, instantly regretting how mean she sounds. But, she has a reason. “Honestly, even if we had said more than ten sentences to each since graduation, it would be a little awkward. The last time I saw Aidan, he’d just finished fingering me in sci-fi section of the library. It’s weird to go to the wedding of guys you hit third base with, right?” She shudders at the memory.

Gideon stops abruptly. “Wait, what?” He looks surprised, and honestly, a little annoyed.

“Oh, God, please don’t turn this into a thing.” Gideon unfortunately has a slight jealous streak when it comes to her. It’s not overbearing, thankfully, but it’s present enough to annoy her every now and then. She attributes it mostly to his low self-esteem brought by half the town assuming he’s turn evil as an adult coupled with the way she’d dated every guy but him the year leading up to them finally getting together. She understands where he is coming from, really, but she doesn’t have to like it.

“I’m not turning this into a thing. That’s not it, not entirely,” he amends. “But, seriously, the library?”

“Oh, this is about defiling books .”

He laughs, almost hysterically. “Not quite, no.”

“Then what is it?” She takes a bite of the cotton candy, and delights in the way his eyes track the movement of tongue as she traces her lips for any errant sugar.

He begins to lead her away from the crowd, and his voice lowers. “Remember that time we listed our fantasies?”

She hums in reply. She remembers it well, and still benefits from it too.

“Let’s just say teenage Gideon would have killed to be fingering a pretty girl in the library.” His cheeks are an enjoyable shade of red. He’s always a little embarrassed when talking publicly about sex. Back when they were ‘just friends’, his exploits were something that rarely ever came up, even though she’d been less discreet about hers.

“And what about adult Gideon?”

“What about adult Gideon?”

“It’s after six. The library is closed, and you have a pretty girl who is just about to finish her cotton candy and will soon be wondering just what she can be getting up to later.” She quirks her brow for emphasis. “So what would adult Gideon say we do?”

She’s always been a bit reckless. She enjoys the rush of adrenaline, and sees caution as a suggestion. Gideon’s her opposite in that regard, which is why she can’t contain her gleeful laugh as he more or less drags her to the library at a half-jog. She knows she could magic them there, but this gets her heart pounding in a way that magic does not.

In no time at all, they’re in the library — she bites back a laugh at his attempts to unlock the door — and her back is against the wall as Gideon’s mouth fuses to hers. It’s times like these where she wishes she had gotten over herself enough for them to come together sooner. As much as Gideon had been quiet about his sexploits, he’d picked up some skill. And where he lacked, he certainly made up by being a quick study. “You’re amazing,” he tells her. He lifts his hand, and brushes he strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into his palm.”Do I tell you that enough?”

“You do.” She runs her hands over the front of his shirt, and begins to toy with the buttons. With a teasing smirk, she adds, “Though, to be fair, you mostly tell me when I’m in a state of undress...or about to be.”

“I’ll be sure to rectify that...later.” She squeals when he pulls away from her, only to lift her into his arms. He quickly maneuvers them to the collections desk, and drops her on top of it. Goosebumps form over her skin as his hands span up her bare thighs, and she relishes in the way his warm breath fans across the skin of her face. “This okay?”

“It’s totally okay.” Any other quips she might think to say are lost when he lips close over the most sensitive spot on her neck, sendling shocks of pleasure down her spine. She gasps, her hands carding through his hair as she tilts her neck for easier access. His hands skate over her shorts and work their way under her shirt. Her skin burns hot as his palms burn over the smooth expanse, and she sighs.

They break apart long enough for both of them to remove their shirts. She thinks he breaks a button in his eagerness to remove his top, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest, enjoying the sight of shirtless male in front of her. He’s not incredibly muscular, but he’s toned enough -- and god, his collarbones. She pays particular attention to that part of his body first, eagerly nipping. As she leans forward, his hand slip over her ass, pulling her closer and squeezing as he goes. They move together, their pants dulling the sensation and doing nothing to hide his ardor for her.

She loves the power that comes with sex, the thrill of slowly making her partner come undone -- and that is what drives her next course of action. After all, she knows of know better way to make a man come undone. He groans when she pulls away, the brokeness bringing a smile to her face. She places a finger against his lips as she dismounts from the desk. He nips at the pad of her index finger as she reverses their positions. “What are you planning?”

“Something that will blow teenage Gideon’s mind.”

Juliet drops to her knees.

  -/-

  There are sacrifices one makes for their children.

Some are small, like the last piece of pie. Others are larger sacrifices, such as dedicating everything you can in you to ensuring your child has the best life. Killian Jones, of course, makes these sacrifices willingly, and most of the time, happily.  Ever since the day that the doctor placed a squawking infant -- his daughter -- into his arms, Killian Jones knew that he’d do everything in his power to make her smile. Decades later, he likes to think he’s done a decent enough job. Juliet is happy and healthy, and has the confidence to leave the comfort of Storybrooke and chart a course of her own. And, despite her being an adult, he’ll continue doing what he’s able to ensure her happiness.

However, there are some sacrifices that try his patience -- such as being friendly with the Crocodile.

Over the course of two decades, he and the Dark One have kept their distances. They’ll be cordial at functions that they’re both in attendance, and he’ll never disparage the man around Belle. He values his friendship with her too much for that. Truthfully speaking, over the years, no one has ever truly required them to go out of their way to be in the same place.  

Ah, but then his daughter fell in love with the Dark One’s son, and expectations had been formed.  

“I know you all have bad blood, but can you at least try? For me?” Juliet had asked him. He can’t blame her for doing such a thing. He’d shield her from much of his history with the Crocodile. She knows enough -- he remembers with stunning clarity the afternoon he’d explained to her, just five and infinitely curious, why the name ‘Milah’ was tattooed on his wrist -- but both he and Emma had intentionally agreed to leave out the gorier details of his life. Her basic knowledge cannot compared to the memories of living in the thick of it all.

Which is why, shortly after Juliet had made that request of him, he had mused to Emma in the comfort of their own bed, “Perhaps they’ll break up.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon. This one’s different,” Emma had replied, and that much they knew to be true. Killian had seen that boys that had captured Juliet’s interest over the years -- all of them unworthy of her, in his opinion -- and it’s true that this one felt different. “Besides, if things do go south, you don’t want that heartbreak for her.”

“No, you’re right,” he’d replied. He remembers pulling Emma closer to him, and whispering in her hair, “I’m beginning to understand your father’s perspective a bit more when you began courting me.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

And it is because he doesn’t want to make life harder for his daughter -- he knows well enough the benefits of a smooth relationship with the in-laws -- Killian puts on his best smile and acts even friendlier with the Crocodile. Though they’ve never explicitly discussed the matter, Killian suspects that Gideon had made the same request of his own father, as the Crocodile has not made one snide comment or appeared surprised at whatever warming relationships they might have.

Belle, at the very least, seems happy about the turn of events. And he can’t deny that Gideon is a good young man, a far cry from the tortured soul who had attempted to kill Emma decades ago. (Killian still has nightmares of their wedding night, of watching the sword drive into Emma’s gut.) But he can’t hold that against Belle’s son. He’d be hypocritical at best, especially considering the respectable person he’s since grown into. Besides, there’s no denying that Gideon looks at Juliet like she’s the moon and stars, and his daughter is quite happy with him.

Which, unfortunately, means he’s on a quest with the Crocodile to retrieve a box of books from the library for a booth at the festival. They library had been going through the process of culling its selection, weeding out extra copies of no longer popular tomes so there would be space for current interests. Belle had concocted a plan to set up a booth to give away the books, and had asked Killian and her husband to fetch a couple of boxes she’d left behind.

He honestly thinks this is a plan of Belle’s to get the two of them to talk more, to further bury the hatchet at the request of their children. The Dark One certainly has the power to poof the boxes. (He has made an effort to use magic less over the years, something Killian will not complain about.) She might have also asked Emma for help, but he’s pretty sure his wife is also in on the scheme.

In the effort of trying , he and the Dark One -- Gold -- exchange in small talk, but it is stilted and awkward. Which is possibly why the conversation dovetails into talking about their children, an easy topic for any proud parent.

“Gideon tells me that Juliet graduated cum laude? I’ll have to extend my congratulations to all of her hard work.”

“Aye. She did excellently. Emma and I are quite proud.” He already has a picture from her graduation day of the three of them sitting on the mantle -- Juliet clad in her regalia, smiling broadly while flanked by her parents. Gideon had been the one to take the picture. “I imagine you are too, with Gideon studying to be a doctor.”

“We are.” The Crocodile’s expression morphs into one that Killian knows all too well -- the sort of look one gets when they can’t quite believe they had a part in raising someone good. “It’s astounding to think that he’ll be completing medical school next year. It seems like yesterday he was just learning to walk.”

“I know the feeling all too well.” He hates how much he relates to Gold at the moment. Emma has occasionally commented how fatherhood has mellowed them both over the years, but Killian doesn’t want to bond over it. The things we do for our children.

But, at the same time, he cannot deny that Gold is wrong. Killian Jones has lived hundreds of years, but none have passed by as quickly as those since Juliet’s birth. In what feels like the blink of an eyes, she’s gone from being a wee babe to a child to a teenager and now an adult. Hadn’t it been just yesterday that she had been stumbling over her consonants as he taught her how to read?

“Those nights when she would keep Emma and I up all night, I remember wishing that time would pass quickly. Now I find myself wishing I could turn back the time and go back.”

“After what happened with my sorry excuse of a mother, I learned not to take any time with Gideon for granted,” Gold replies darkly.

Killian’s first reaction is to consider it a slight, an implication that he somehow has taken his daughter’s childhood for granted, but his cooler head prevails. He recalls how scarred Belle had been during the mess with the Black Fairy, and how even after Gideon back she had barely left him out of her sight. If the same thing had happened to Juliet…

It’s a thought that kept him awake many nights during Emma’s pregnancy. Storybrooke and normal pregnancies or childbirth rarely went hand-in-hand back in those days, and certainly not for their family. He’d be plagued by nightmares full of villains from his past -- men he’d crossed or wronged -- sneaking into his home and doing harm to his child with him unable to save her.

They’d been lucky, with Juliet. She’d been safe and sound. There had been villains since then, but she’d been mostly safe. Nothing like what Gold and Belle had gone through with Gideon, or David and Snow with Emma. For once, Killian Jones had been the blessed one. He tries not to let himself forget it.

He and the Crocodile don’t talk much after that, not until after they’ve worked their way through the crowd and arrive at the library.  

“Where did Belle say she left the boxes?”

“By the circulation desk.” Gold pulls the keys to the library out of his pocket before he suddenly stops. Killian glances over the other man’s shoulder to see why, before noticing the slightly ajar doors. By Killian’s estimation, it seems as someone had simply let the door close behind them, not realizing that they hadn’t shut completely. “I know I locked this earlier.”

“It’s not the first time someone has broken into the library. Probably some horny or drunk youths looking for a quiet space and a good time.” How many times had he or Emma busted people sneaking into the library for a good time over the years? It’s turned into almost a rite of passage amongst the teens. Though he understands the thrill of breaking-and-entering, Killian doesn’t quite understand why the library is the chosen location. He’s crossed Belle enough times to know that is a spectacularly bad idea. “They probably thought the festival would be a good distraction.”

“And now they’re about to find themselves caught by the Dark One and Captain Hook. I almost pity them.”

Killian highly doubts that this is what any of the women is his life hoped for when it came to bonding with Gold. This certainly isn’t what he envisioned, but he’ll take it. Terrible as it might be, he takes certain enjoyment in knowing just how terrified whomever is in there will be when they realize just who they’ve been caught by. Quietly, Gold pushes open the library door and they creep inside the building. Once inside, they can clearly hear low moans and the slick sound of--

“Oh fuck---ohmygod!”

  -/-

  Juliet is hiding. She’s admittedly doing a poor job of it, because her hiding place is the back porch swing of her childhood home. In her defense, no one had been home when she’d come back. Now, however, the lights are one and she can hear the obscured voices of her parents. (She can barely make out the words “shower” and “tired”, if she strains.) Thankfully, they haven’t come to look for her. She wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at her father in the eyes again. She’s already formulating a plan for sneaking out before breakfast -- or maybe pretending to sleep until after he leaves for work.

Until she is sure her parents have convalesced themselves upstairs, she’ll continue hiding outside on the back on the back porch swing -- how many summer nights did she spend out here growing up? She had attempted to distract herself from her complete and utter mortification by attempting to read, but the exploits of Natasha Rostova weren’t enough to ebb away her embarrassment. Now, she just sits and stews, swaying back and forth on the swing.

She wishes Gideon were here. After a minor freakout --

“This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Worse than that time you got stabbed in Agrabah?”

“Yes! I got healed from being stabbed! My dad caught be going down on my boyfriend. How do you come back from this?”

-- she and Gideon had decided to go their separate ways for the rest of the night. The mood had effectively been killed, and they had already agreed to spend the night at their respective childhood homes . She now wishes he were here, however, if only to give her a hug and share the mortification together. The text messages from him, of which there are many, are hardly sufficient. Besides, she hardly even wants to look at her phone anymore, not since she made a mistake of telling Neal, who has sent her three texts that consist of “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” written over ad nauseum . Jerk.

Beyond embarrassment, she’s also incredibly disappointed in herself. The Juliet of four years ago had never been caught involved in illicit acts. Had she been caught vomiting into a bush after a night of underage drinking? Sure, but at least she’d been clothed and not hooking up with anyone. Has she fallen so far? Has living in New York eroded her sense in Storybrooke? The Juliet of four years ago would have insisted to sneak deeper into the library to fool around.

One thing’s for sure: I am never doing this in Storybrooke again.

She picks up her book again, and thumbs to the dog-eared page. Her adamant refusal to use a bookmark drives Gideon up the walls -- “Books are sacred, J.” The thought of him, and his exasperation, warms her heart and she makes a note to call him once she’s sure her parents are asleep. Slinking further into the swing, she attempts to read a bit more. It’s a mostly futile effort, and she’s about to give up when she is startled by the creak of the back door porch opening. She winces when she sees her father slide through.

“Hi.”

“Hullo, Cygnet.”

Juliet readjusts herself in the swing, swinging her legs to the ground so that he could sit beside her. She doesn’t meet his eyes when he sits down. She takes a deep breath, bracing for whatever lecture is bound to come, wishing he had somehow gotten the memo that this was something that they weren’t going to talk about. She had hoped that she and Gideon had gotten off the proverbial hook in that regard when her father and Mr. Gold had disappeared immediately after catching them, but apparently not.

“I’m guessing you’re not coming out here because you wanted to see the stars?”

“It’s a touch too overcast for that tonight, darling,” he replies, and there’s humor in his voice, but it is strained. God, this is the worst. “I wished for us to have a chat, not matter how awkward it might be.”

“Or we could pretend it never happened. I prefer that option.”

“When you were a toddler, you preferred to not wear clothes, so you stripped yourself in the middle of Granny’s, waving your dirty diaper as a victory flag. And yet your mother and I still dressed you,” her father replies, and he has the audacity to wink at her.

“Okay, that is so not fair.” It’s a story she’s heard maybe a hundred times by this point, but it makes her cringe every time. Why was she such an awkward child?

“I’ve learned from experience that life, unfortunately, isn’t fair.”

“Now you’re getting angsty,” she says. She’s being difficult. Juliet knows this, but she really doesn’t want to talk about whatever if on her father’s mind. She already feels terrible enough. “Dad, seriously, can we just forget today ever happened?”

“Trust me when I say I do, and after you and I have a chat, we can.”

“Dad, I’m an adult. We were just being dumb, okay?” Juliet feels like a teenager again, getting caught after staying out past curfew. But, to be fair, this is perfectly in character for her father. Years ago after a party, he’d caught her stumbling around clearly drunk. The next day he’d given her a lecture about the importance of staying safe while inebriated. “We’ll be more responsible from now on. Trust me when I say that no one involved wants a repeat of that. Ever.”

“That’s good. That’s good.” He runs his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I want to discuss.”

“Oh.” They sit like that for a moment, listening the sound of summer bugs and the creak of the swing swaying back and forth. When their respective awkward silence feels unbearable, Juliet asks, “So what did you want to talk about then?”

“As you’ve mentioned you’re an adult, and I have no bearing on telling you what you can and cannot do.” He takes a deep breath and looks up. “But now that you’re an adult, you are making adult choices and are finding yourself in adult situations.”

“Mom already gave me the sex talk in high school.” Her mother had been incredibly thorough with the sex talk, no doubt influenced by her own harrowing experience with teenage pregnancy. While she had done an excellent job discussing the different forms of birth control, Juliet had walked away so scarred by everything else that she’d done everything but penetrative sex until she had started college for fear of getting pregnant before her finishing her high school degree. “I know how to be safe. We’ve been tested. I have an IUD.”

Juliet winces at her explanation. Even though she’s veering into TMI territory -- her father knowing her current form of birth control does not top the ‘need to know’ list -- she wants to express to him that the earlier encounter had been a bit of fun and that she’s actually a responsible adult when it comes to these things.

“I’m glad you are aware of those things.” He runs his hand through his hair again. It’s also something Juliet does when she’s stressed. Both her mother and Gideon have commented on it. Unsure if it is a nature or nurture thing, she chalks it up to simply being Killian Jones’ daughter. “I just also want you to be aware that just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you have to if you. If you ever feel uncomfortable doing something, you can say no. You don’t need to...you don’t need to consent to an action simply because your partner--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Gideon didn’t force me into doing anything. Holyshit, he’s not that kind of guy. I’m the one-- it was my idea, okay? He’s not some creep who would force me into that. This is not the time for that PSA.” Juliet pushes herself from the swing, turning to face her father. She’s angry and hurt and how could he even imply…? “Is it because of what we were doing? Newsflash, Dad, women can like giving head. Women can like sex. And I know this might be hard to hear, but I like sex. What you walked in on? That was me doing what I enjoy doing with my partner.”

To call her furious would be an understatement. She wonders how her father could even think that about Gideon. Gideon, who is the nicest person she knows. Gideon, who is so afraid of everything thinking he’s just another villain because of his last name. The implication that he would be the one forcing her, or that she would be so easily coerced boils her blood. And for it to come from her father?

She turns to leave -- to where, she doesn’t know -- but her father is up in an instant and following her. He gently takes hold of her arm, stopping her at the door. “Juliet, sweetheart, wait.”

“What, so you can imply my boyfriend is some asshole who forces me into sex?”

“No, so I can better explain what I was trying to say,” he tells her. Juliet doesn’t move at first, but he gradually leads her back to the swing. “It was not my intention to imply at Gideon was that sort of man. I honestly don’t think he is. I was talking about relationships the in general and not him specifically.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m doing a train on the hockey team.” Her father winces. She thinks it serves him right. “I’m kind of a big believer in monogamy.”

“That’s...that’s something. But even with the people we love, it’s easy for us to feel like we should do things that we normally wouldn’t want to do. And I don’t mean this situation specifically, but in relationships as a whole. I want you to know that it’s okay to say no,” he says gently. “You don’t ever have to do something you don’t want.”

“Again, I wanted to.”

“So you said.” He bites his lip and looks down. “I also want you to know that if you want to do something that your partner doesn’t, you should respect their decision, as well.”

“I know.”

“It’s easy to say when you’re not in the situation. And if you think your desires outweigh their own. And I’m not simply talking about what one might get into in their bedchambers, or libraries as it were. It extends to hospitals, how you raise your children, end of life care…” He trails off, before shaking his head. He turns so he can fully face her. “Juliet, darling, you’re growing up and making so many decisions, and now you’re making them now with a partner. I love you, more than anything you can comprehend, which is why I’m telling you these things. Adulthood isn’t simple, and strong emotions makes it even more difficult. What I’m trying, rather poorly it seems, is to say that it’s okay to communicate your desires, just as it is for he to communicate his, but both of you can say no and the other needs to respect it, aye?”

She’s unprepared to deal with the intensity of his speech. She’s been unprepared for a lot that has happened today, and she wants to deal with none of it. So she nods her head. “Yeah. Okay. Communicate. Have adult conversations. Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” He looks taken aback at her response. She regrets her, but he’s already up and walking to the door. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

And then he’s gone, and Juliet feels like the worst person ever.

“You aren’t the worst person ever,” Gideon tells her later that night, after she creeps into the house and back to her childhood bedroom. “Maybe a bit short. As much as I appreciate you defending my honor, based on what he said I don’t think he was meaning it that way. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part.”

“I don’t know, I think he was trying to do the ‘Dad’ thing and make it like a sitcom feel-good moment.” In the immediate aftermath, once she had cooled off and really registered what her father had been saying, she had realized that maybe he hadn’t been implying what she thought he had. “And I yelled at him and then blew him off. I mean, he was being a bit weird about it with the sex stuff, but...I don’t know.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“What do you think I should do about it?”

“That’s not my call, babe,” he says gently. She hears a rustle over the line as he shifts in the bed. She wishes she were there with him, if only so she could feel the comfort of his warmth around her. “You know your dad. Do what you think is best.”

She just has to figure out what that means.

  -/-

  Emma is waiting for him in bed when he clambers into their bedchamber. Her hair, now wet, is pulled into a braid and she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, but she still looks stunning. She closes the book she had been reading, and gives him a sympathetic look. “I heard yelling.”

“You heard correctly.” He strips off his clothes and brace, for once not bothering to fold them neatly into the hamper. Deciding not to wear his pajama pants, he crawls into bed and takes his spot besides his wife. “I’m not sure how well that conversation went.”

“I told you wait until morning.” Emma pokes him in the chest. “She’s mortified now. Nothing you said was going to register.”

“I didn’t want the moment to pass.” He interlocks his fingers with hers, and kisses her knuckles. “I’m afraid if I had waited until the morning, she would have snuck out. I’m not convinced she still won’t.”

“That does sound like our daughter.” They re-adjust themselves under the blankets so that Emma is laying on his chest. Killian feels his heart rate, previously pounding, slow as he succumbs to the comfort of her presence. “Even if it didn’t go well, I’m proud of you. You pushed past any awkwardness to have a real conversation with your kid.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. She accused me of implying her boyfriend was an abuser.”

“She also apparently likes sex,” Emma adds, humor evident in her tone.

“Don’t remind me.”

“You kinda of walked into that last one, buddy.” He feels Emma traces nonsense into his chest. It tickles, but he allows her to continue. She grounds him, that wife of his, keeping him afloat in the wild storm of his emotions.

“I walked into a lot of things today.” Things he would very much like to forget, regardless of what he told Juliet. He wonders if he might be able to convince Gold to whip them up a memory potion. He thinks the Dark One might agree.

“Yeah, I don’t envy you.”

“You are taking far too much joy in this situation.”

“What can I say, babe? It was a long time coming. Remember when mom walked in on us?”

“Which time?”

“Exactly.”

He laughs, but he doesn’t quite find the humor in the situation. He’s too caught up thinking about all the things he did wrong while talking to Juliet than right tonight. It had been easier when she was younger, far less prone to lash out. Back then, of course, the lessons hadn’t felt some complicated or embarrassing. Perhaps he misses that too, her willingness to listen and the faith that the advice he was imparting was done with her best interest at heart.

But that’s not how it works anymore, is it? She’s her own person. One who apparently likes sex and fools around with her partner in public spaces. And he doesn’t mind, not really, but today had been a stark reminder that she’s not his little girl anymore. He hadn’t been prepared for this part of fatherhood.

“Killian?” Emma says after a lifetime of silence. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. And you want to know how I know it is?” Emma moves that her chin is now resting on his chest. He catches a glint in her green eyes. “Because we’ve been down this road before, and everything turned out fine. Our daughter still comes home.”

“Why does it feel different than before?” he asks. Emma is correct, this isn’t the first time either of them have had a less than ideal encounter with their daughter. He still cringes when he thinks of the slammed doors and eye rolls from her teenage years.

“Because I think this is the first time it’s really sunk in for you that our baby isn’t a baby anymore.” Her words are a heavy weight on his chest as he considers them. Objectively, he recognizes that Juliet is an adult. She’s done well for herself living away from home and completing her studies. She hasn’t starved. But, Emma isn’t necessarily wrong either, and the incident earlier is a reminder of just how much she’s grown.

“You know, earlier I was telling the Crocodile I wished I could turn back time to when she was small. She used to be no longer than my forearm, do you remember that?” He’d been so delicate with her, so afraid of damaging something so small and precious to him.

“Of course I remember that.” Emma smiles fondly, the corner of her eyes crinkling. “Remember those bows my mom got her? The ones with flowers bigger than her face?”

“She would scream every time one of us tried to put it on.”

“You singing sea shanties was one of the only ways to get her to sleep.”

“Aye.” Tired as he had been, Killian cherished those moments he had with his infant daughter. She would be curled up on his chest as he rocked in a chair and hummed her his favorite songs. He felt special, being one of the only people who could calm her down. “I miss it.”

“I know, babe, but we’ve got a lot of new memories ahead of us.” Emma stretches up, leaving him feeling bereft, as she reaches to shut off the lamp. As his eyes attempt to adjust to the light, he feels her settle more firmly into her side of the bed. Unwilling to let her go quite yet, he turns to his side and wraps his arm around her waist.

“You were right about one thing, though.”

“Just one?”

“Hush,” he teases. “This one is different. Gideon, I mean.”

“And what makes you say that?”

Emma is goading him, but he doesn’t care. “You should have seen the fire in her eyes when she thought I was accusing him of being untoward. I’ve never seen her so defensive of anything or anyone in her life.”

“She’s in love.”

“Aye, she’s in love.”

Killian allows that sentiment to close out the night, and lets the evenness of Emma’s breaths slowly lull him to sleep. In the morning, he awakens to the sounds of someone rattling around the kitchen and the smell of pancakes wafting upstairs. He dresses quickly, pulling on the previously ignored pajama pants and a t-shirt before padding down the stairs. He expects to find Emma at the oven, but instead she is sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee. She casts him a knowing look and tilts her head to where their daughter is pouring batter into a sizzling skillet.

“Smells amazing, Cygnet.”

“Thanks, I made ‘em from scratch.” As the pancakes cook, she points with a spatula to a plate waiting for him. “You should get them while they’re hot.”

“As the lady insists.” He exchanges glances with Emma as he takes a plate of pancakes and settles into a chair. Rarely is Juliet ever awake this early on her own volition, let alone the one to making breakfast. After taking a few bites, he says, “These are excellent.”

“Thanks. I’ve been trying to learn how to cook, and ta-da.” Juliet flashes a wide smile -- Emma’s smile -- before turning back to her pancakes. Killian holds off on eating the rest, waiting until Juliet settles at the table with a plate of her own food and a glass of orange juice, extra pulp .

Emma excuses herself under the guise of needing to put on makeup, an obvious lie if he ever heard one. However, he can’t fault his wife for engineering an excuse for him and Juliet to be alone. His anxiety from the night before has slowly begun to ebb away knowing that his daughter did, in fact, not sneak out or intentionally sleep in to avoid him. She’s here and having breakfast. It’s the best he can ask for.

“What else are you learning how to cook?” he inquires, because he genuinely wants to know. This is a part of Juliet’s life he hadn’t initially been privy to with her living in New York. He’s eager to learn more.

“This and that. I make a mean pumpkin pasta sauce. If I’m up in the fall, maybe I can make it for you and Mom?”

“There’s nothing we would like more.” The hardest part of her growing older has been her absence. He’s proud that she has the confidence to leave home and forge a path of her own, but he misses her terribly. David had lucked out with both of his children living nearby. Killian has to settle for the occasional visit, mirror chats, or phone calls. The fact that she’s talking about visiting in a few months is a godsend.

She tells him more about the recipes she is learning how to cook -- caramel pie, enchiladas, various stews. He’s impressed, and he tells her as much.

“A girl’s gotta eat,” Juliet answers with a shrug. She pushes around some of the remaining pancakes on her plate. “Hey, Dad? About last night…”

He opens his mouth to apologize. Not for what he said, but instead for not yet coming to terms with her adulthood. Juliet, however, doesn’t allow him to finish. “Thanks for caring about me and everything.”

“You never need to thank me for that. I’m your father.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” she replies. He cheeks flush, and she pushes a few stray strands of hair behind her ears. “And, I didn’t say it last night, but I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Cygnet.”

Killian chooses not to press for any conversation surrounding last night anymore. He recognizes an olive branch when he sees one, and Emma’s advice about waiting is stilling lingering at the back of his mind. Instead, he asks his daughter her plans about the rest of weekend, and suggests that if they have time, her and Gideon should join he and Emma on the Jolly for a sunset cruise -- an olive branch of your own to say that he doesn’t actually hate her boyfriend.

“I’ll have to check, but that sounds fun,” she tells him.

Later, when they’re at station, Killian tells Emma all of this. He watches as her smile grows wider with each addition to the story, culminating on the tentative sailing excursion.

“I told you she would cool off.”

“To be honest, I’m a little surprised she did so quickly.” Since Juliet has inherited his temper, he had feared she would inherit his ability to hold a grudge. She certainly did when she was younger. As a teenager, she had perfected the silent treatment in a way that’s almost impressive. (For those not on the receiving end.”)

Emma simply gives him another one of her smiles and peck on the lips. “Well, yeah, our baby is growing up.”

He mutters something that sounds like agreement before giving his wife a kiss and returning to his work. He’s still not fond of his daughter being an adult, an absurd thought for something so inevitable and expected. But she’s happy. That’s what matters in the end.

#ouat ff #cs ff #captain swan #s writes fic #s writes finding neverland

[smoochcal]

numb without you (part sixteen)

a/n: it has been such a long time since I have updated this fic, and I am so so so so so sorry. I got home from school three days ago and these past couple weeks have been such a blur. I hope you guys haven’t missed me too much as I am back for the summer! I really want to continue this story and make it the best it can be for everyone involved. thank you so much for your continuous support of this story and my writing and I will be back to update this as soon as I can!! if you want to give me feedback on this update or the series or my writing in general please inbox me! as always I would like to thank miss el for pushing me to be the best writer I can be and for always reminding me to update this fic. read part 15 here

pairing: readerxluke

playlist: numb without you by the maine, the lourve by lorde, twenty-something by nightly

word count: 1.6 k

rating: PG-13

summary: calum tries to figure out what he needs to do in order to fix things, y/n and luke finally put their feelings out on the table

warnings: swearing, kissing, mentions of slight panic

Calum’s POV:

You really don’t know what to do. You know you messed up, hell, you fucked up. Bad. You could probably go try and smooth things over with Y/N, but you don’t want to fuck anything up more. You rack your brain trying to decide what the best course of action is. You put yourself in yet another choice situation that basically is slowly but surely fucking up your life for good. You hate to be this negative about situations that would ultimately be resolved, but you really hate the fact that Y/N is mad at you, especially because of RM/N. You loved both of them equally in different ways and you hoped that one day Y/N could see that. Not to mention the fact that all of this also kind of got dropped on RM/N as well but you will worry about her later.

You take a deep breath and then you pick up your phone. You have finally decided what you need to do. You dial the all too familiar number and wait as the phone rings.

“Hello?” your sister says on the other line, obviously surprised by your call.

“H-Hi Mali,” you reply, still a little shaken by your encounters that happened just moments before in your living room.

“Hi stranger,” your sister replies, kind of amused that you called her in the first place considering the two of you have not talked in a while.

“I know I haven’t called you in a while but I have a lot going on right now and I fucked up and I really need to talk to someone so I called you and now I don’t even know if that was a good idea…” you cut yourself off before you can continue and say more things that you may regret later on.

“What did you do?” your sister inquires seemingly worried about you.

“Shit I haven’t caught you up on everything that has been happening, have I?” you ask, trying to get your head in the correct mindset with everything that has happened since the last time you had a proper conversation with your sister.

“Calum, what the fuck is going on? You are starting to worry me…” Mali continues, urging you to spill whatever is on the tip of your tongue.

You inhale slowly, feeling your hand shake as you hold your phone up to your ear to talk. Your sister was someone who you always looked up to, especially when you were younger. You don’t want to disappoint her with your past actions, but you definitely need her help with your current situation. You know you have to tell her everything that has happened from the start, and if you are being honest with yourself it’s now or never.

“Long story short, a few months ago I hooked up with Y/N and got her pregnant…” you start, knowing your sister will interrupt you at any second.

“YOU DID WHAT? CALUM HOW FUCKING STUPID CAN YOU BE? I KNOW DAMN WELL THAT MOM AND DAD TAUGHT YOU TO USE A FUCKING CONDOM WHEN YOU HAVE SEX” Mali screams back at you on the other end. You know how disappointed she is in you, but you can’t take that to heart too much considering that isn’t even the worst part of your story.

“I know I know, I’m sorry. On the bright side, your niece will be born in about four months,” you state, hoping that makes your sister cool off a bit before you tell her the rest of your problems that you need to fix.

“Oh my god I’m going to be an aunt…. Wait…. Doesn’t Luke like Y/N? I swear the last time I was visiting he was basically eye fucking her from across the room,” Mali questions, getting to the very painful point that you hooked up with a girl that your best friend was in love with.

“Yes… Yeah, he really likes her, and I fucked up, but that isn’t even the worst part Mali. I fucked up. Like I really fucked up,” you continue to explain, feeling some tears threaten to spill already.

“Well spit it out already Calum, I don’t have all day,” your sister replied, obviously annoyed and still in shock about everything the two of you have discussed during this phone call.

“So, you know that girl that I told you about a while ago? Her name is RM/N…yeah anyway I was supposed to talk to her and introduce her to the guys and Y/N the night that I knocked Y/N up…because she lives with me now. She needed a place to stay and I had an extra room and I wanted to help her out because she’s nice and kind and I wanted to get to know her more…anyway she lives with me now and I didn’t tell anyone about her until literally yesterday and now Y/N is pissed at me and so is Luke but I really like her Mali. Like I really really like her. I could see myself marrying this girl someday and the whole situation just sucks because I’m a dad... my daughter is going to be born soon and Y/N is pissed because I didn’t tell her about RM/N any sooner and RM/N is going to be around for a while like she has been helping me with the nursery at my place and wants to plan Y/N’s baby shower and really just wants to be super involved in my life which I love but Y/N isn’t a fan. I think she wants to hate RM/N but she doesn’t and now she’s just taking all of her frustrations out on me because this is a shitty situation and I put everyone in it and now I don’t know what to do. Mali, what do I do?” you ramble on, hoping that your sister has some grand plan that can help you save your relationships with all the girls in your life.

If anyone could help you fix this situation, it would be Mali.

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

Y/N’s POV:

You got back to your apartment with your eyes still stinging from the salty tears that you had held back for too long. You have been laying on your couch wrapped in Luke’s arms since you got home, and you don’t know what to do. You want Calum to be a part of his daughter’s life, but he really needs to get his act together. It’s hard to wrap your mind around the fact that he hid RM/N from you for the past five months. It also hurts to know that she knew about you and the baby way before Calum told you about her. You never thought it was weird that the two of you were never at his place, but you should have. You missed so many obvious signs that something was up. That is probably what you were most angry about.

RM/N seems nice enough, but is she going to stick around? Calum had always been weird about his relationships and you didn’t want to get close to her or have her get close to your baby just for her to leave like they always do. Maybe you shouldn’t be generalizing his relationships, but you are already so protective over your little dinosaur that you don’t know what to do. You are still more than pissed at Calum and the little game he had been playing for quite a long time.

You shake your head a little, trying to rid your mind from all of the negative thoughts that are swirling around in your head. Just as you do that, Luke tightens his grip on you. You blatantly worried him tonight and you know that, but you are also so thankful that he is holding you right now. With all of the shit that went down at Calum’s tonight you really just needed someone to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. Luke was the one to do just that, and you have never felt more comfortable in someone else’s arms.

You may not be in the best headspace right now, but you know that Luke will stay as long as you need him to. And that is enough to fuel what you are about to do next. You don’t want to think about any of it. Not the current situation with Calum, not what you are going to do with custody, not about the baby shower RM/N is planning you, not how you have not even started to make the guest room into a nursery for your baby, not about any of it. You inhale and exhale deeply, hoping that your head is in the right place for what you are about to do. You move Luke’s arms off of you quickly and sit up a little bit. He sits up as well and you just look at him. Like really look at him for the first time in a long time. Your best friend, with his curls in an unruly mess that he attempted to tie up into a bun. You move the single curl that is hanging in front of his eyes out of his face and cup his chin. And before you know it you are kissing him. To your surprise, Luke kisses you right back with no hesitation.

#numb without you #nwoy #jules writes #luke hemmings #luke series #luke #luke hemmings blurb #lukehemmings #calum hood #calum #baby daddy!calum #best friend!luke #5sos #5sos series #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer series #please give me feedback in my inbox

[albionscastle]

First Impressions 7 - New Friends and Old Enemies

I’m writing slowly but I am writing!!!! I’m working two jobs right now so updates will be slow, but still coming.

There brief mentions of domestic violence, past, in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I actually really like Zac Efron but I thought he had the perfect look to be a Wickham character so there we go. 

FIC MASTERLIST

FIRST IMPRESSIONS 7

NEW FRIENDS AND OLD ENEMIES

LIZZIE

Colin Ryan being back in town was an unexpected and decidedly unpleasant turn of events. It had been 3 years since she’d last seen him, hightailing it out of town after she’d threatened to expose his true nature. She still shivered in fear when she thought about that last day with him, how she’d finally gathered the courage to leave, the bruises on his ribs a stark reminder of his temper. Oh, he’d slapped her, pulled her hair, screamed in her face, but for the first time she’d felt strong, strong enough to get out. With all the proof she’d gathered there was nothing that he could do except let her go and get out of town.

She’d dealt with the fallout for a year, the gossip and the finger pointing, the bill that Colin’s parents had stuck her with for the wedding, not to mention the constant lamenting of her mother. The only person to ever know what had really happened was Maya, and as far as anyone else was concerned, well it was none of their fucking business.

Though now she knew for a fact that Lydia had known about it all along and after the incident with Colin the day before she was pretty sure that Jack and Tom had cottoned on to it too. She had shrunk, all her strength had gone until the moment Jack had taken her hand. Disgusted with herself and stunned at his thoughtfulness, Lizzie had spent the whole night tossing and turning, unable to quiet her thoughts, even with her medication.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, she passed Maya and Lydia sound asleep on the couches. For all the issues Lyds had, she was staunchly loyal to her sisters and had been able to make her laugh. Waking her before 9am however merely guaranteed you a slew of obscenities and a bitchy mood for the rest of the day, didn’t matter who you were. Maya, though, woke to the smell of the coffee maker, shuffling into the kitchen quietly.

“How are you doing, Lizzie?”

Lizzie shrugged, taking another sip of her Death Wish under her sister’s disapproving eye.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

“Drinking that crap won’t help. Did you take your meds?”

“Yes, mom, I did.” Lizzie rolled her eyes and kept sipping her coffee.

Maya was definitely the only one, other than her doctor, who knew about that. Lizzie even went so far as to have her prescription filled at the next town over, just so no one could add to the gossip. There was still so much stigma attached to her condition and the cause of it that it was best just to stay quiet.

“I’m sure he won’t be here long.”

“I don’t understand why he’s here at all. His parents moved away, retired to Aspen or some such shit. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be here.”

Maya nodded sympathetically, getting up to raid the fridge.

“Knowing that jerk I’m sure we’ll know sooner rather than later. But we aren’t going to let him get to us, right Liz?”

“Don’t worry about me, Maya. It was a shock seeing him yesterday, but now I know he’s here I can handle it. I won’t let him get to me again.”

“I’ll fucking kick him in the nuts if he ever comes near you again.” Lydia muttered, dragging herself  over to the coffee machine.

“Language Lydia!”

“Bite me Maya.”

“Stop it you two.” Lizzie muttered.

After breakfast, which was more pleasant than expected with Lydia full of caffeine, they finished a rough draft of her paper and attempted to talk some sense into her about her wardrobe. As always it was a waste of time, but Lizzie would never stop trying.

They were meeting mary and Kate for lunch at the park, the first time all the sisters had been together since Kate’s birthday party. Mary’s job and the band meant she rarely left the city and kate had been kept fairly cloistered since she entered the convent, only able to communicate through letters. Lizzie missed them both terribly and unashamedly cried when she hugged Kate, looking both like a child and a grown up in her brown habit, her eyes as big and serious as ever.

“You look happy Katie.” Lizzie whispered, not willing to let her sister go.

“I am happy, Lizzie. The convent is so peaceful and we do so much outreach. It’s perfect for me.”

Kate, or Sister Mary Kate as she would soon be known, was the center of attention. From the city Mary was in contact almost daily, especially with Maya who went to class close to where she worked. Seeing her was a happy extension of the texts and calls that were normal. Her girlfriend was a little hesitant at first, but Kate was ecstatic to meet her and quickly erased her fears of being accepted. It was just perfect, sitting on their blankets, eating and talking, just the 6 of them. Any residual ill feeling that Lizzie had about Colin was swept away in the balm of her sisters.

A soccer ball suddenly flew towards them, expertly caught by kate before it could destroy their picnic. Hot on it’s heels was a man, shirtless and so well built that even katie was gawking open mouthed.

“Sorry ladies, it just got away from me.” His perfect white smile spread across his face as he took in each of the girls in turn.

For her part, Lizzie had never seen a more gorgeous man her whole life. He turned that megawatt smile onto her and she couldn’t help but respond in kind, her cheeks flushing as he looked her up and down before holding out his hand.

“Hi, name’s Brad, Grad Wick.”

JACK

Jack couldn’t sleep, he was still wide awake at 2am, his brain refusing to shut off. He tossed and turned, kicking the blankets off then pulling them up again. He warmed milk in the tiny suite microwave and even counted sheep, but nothing worked. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Elizabeth cowering in front of Colin Ryan.

It pissed him off.

If there was one thing he hated it was men who abused women. It didn’t matter which woman, he abhorred it. Had Caro come to him saying she’d been hit he would have felt the same way, despite how much he disliked her. There was no excuse for violence in a relationship and least of all against someone as small as Elizabeth Bennet. He didn’t even want to imagine the extent of the abused, but his mind of course had other ideas. Instead of sleeping he’d been he’d been laying there while increasingly worse scenarios had flashed in his head.

With a 5 am call time he decided there was no use in trying to sleep any longer. He stumbled out to the bathroom, hanging his head under the cold shower spray to try and clear the cobwebs. What the fuck was wrong with him lately? Honestly this shoot couldn’t be over quickly enough in his opinion, he needed to get home, walk the glenns and get his shit together. He was a grown man, successful, in demand and yet this one bloody woman had managed to derail his peace of mind. It didn’t matter how pretty, smart or nice she was, they were from two different worlds. When he left Indiana in November he would never see her again.

The twinge he felt in his chest at that thought was something he was going to ignore.

She’d hugged him though, held his hand.

He tried to tell himself it was just the situation, that she would have done the same with Tom. The part of him that he wanted to shut up disagreed, that traitorous voice was telling him that Elizabeth might actually like him. They were both adults and maybe her prickliness was just a product of her former relationship. He just had to be….less aggressive, more….

“Don be an eejit.” he muttered as he dressed. “The last thing ye need is a fuckin woman complicatin the shite outa things.”

Lizzie wasn’t a roll in the hay type of woman and that’s all he wanted. One and done, no complications, no emotions, no phone calls, no nothing. He’d vowed he’d never let another woman close after Lisa and he needed to keep to that. No distracting redheads. He would be polite and nothing more.

If he ended each day imagining how good she might feel beneath him, or astride him, her hair falling around them both, then so be it. Taking himself in hand was infinitely preferable to the fallout that would come from being intimately involved with a Bennet.

Determined, and his mind made up, Jack was feeling a lot better when he arrived on set. Even Caro had backed off enough that he didn't dread being at work anymore, all he had to do was get through the next six weeks and he’d be home. There were any number of discrete, gorgeous women he could entice to bed if he wanted. By Christmas all this bullshit would be in the past.

“Jack!” Tom was trotting to catch up with him as he left the set for the day. “Do you want to do for a run?”

Jack was pretty sure that Tom’s new love of running was based more on necessity than a desire to exercise. With the lovely Maya no longer sharing his bed every night, the lad needed to run off all that sexual frustration.

And so did he if he was completely honest.

The late September weather was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat of July and August in Indiana and Jack barely broke a sweat as they jogged around the lakefront park. His endorphins had him feeling much better and the physical exercise would certainly ensure a good night’s sleep.

“Hold up mate!” Tom panted, bending over to catch his breath.

“Ye ain’t givin up already are ye lad?”

“Just give me a second old man.” Tom groaned. “Not all of us have your stamina.”

“Hence why ye still have the body of a teenage boy.”

“Shut it Angel Face.”

Jack winced slightly, apparently some fans had likened his unshaven face to something like a cherub and Tom hadn’t let it go since. His aversion to the comparison was a constant source of delight to Tom, who seemed to love nothing more than getting under his skin.

Snarky cunt.

He pushed Tom a little further before taking pity on him and slowing to a walk. The park was full of people, families picnicking and using the playgrounds, couples walking hand in hand. If he felt a twinge of envy, he quickly shoved it down deep. Alone was better, alone was safe.

“Tom! Jack!” Lydia’s loud call couldn’t be ignored and he groaned inwardly as Tom trotted off in the direction of the Bennet sisters.

All five of them were there, but Jack saw only one. Elizabeth sat, leaning on her elbows and laughing at the man who sat with them. He had never seen her smile like that at him, in fact he was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever seen her really laugh.

His gut twisted.

Tom was already sitting down, an arm around Maya, commenting on Mary’s tattoo. Kate, the novice nun, smiled warmly at him and he moved closer. The memory of Elizabeth’s hand in his bolstered him, even though she was no longer laughing. He raised a hand in greeting, getting a curt nod in response.

“How are ye all doin?” Jack was about to sit down when the breath was knocked out of him in shock.

The man beside Elizabeth turned and Jack felt himself freeze, anger and disgust rolling through him.

What the fuck was that piece of shit doing there?

He looked at Elizabeth who seemed confused, then at Bradley Wick who sat there smirking, daring him to say something.

That would have been a mistake.

Instead he turned, without saying a word, and walked away.

LIZZIE

He really was a rude bastard. She watched as Jack walked away, a stunned looking Tom hot on his heels. Just when she thought there was a slight that she might have misjudged him, he had just merely reinforced her dislike of him.

Arrogant, uptight assclown.

“Nice to see some things never change.” Brad remarked wryly from beside her.

“You know Jack?”

“Shit, I’ve known him since drama school. He was just as big a cock back then.”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, something in Jack’s eyes had seemed deeply shocked when he’d seen Brad. there was definitely more to this story.

“Bastard never liked me. Too full of himself to pay attention to lowly nobodies like me.” Brad laughed quietly.

“Seems like there might be some history there.” Lizzie cautiously, curious despite herself.

“You noticed that did you?”

“Kinda hard not to.”

Brad’s handsome face looked sad as he took a deep breath. Lizzie instantly felt sorry for him, having a feeling that what he was about to say hurt him.

“Jack was a year behind me at drama school, we met when we were both going out for a play. He seemed like a great guy, until I got the part instead of him. Then he found out that I’d grown up in an orphanage in Leeds. After that he did everything he could to ruin me. He’s talented, don’t get me wrong, I would have been more than happy to share roles, but no. It escalated in his second year, he was cast as my understudy in a play. It just got worse until eventually he got me fired, he stashed coke in my dressing room. I had a record from when I was a teen so when he told the director, well I was done. I got booted out of school for that too. Jack ended up with an agent and a slew of offers.”

“That’s awful.” Lizzie admitted.

She honestly hadn’t imagined that Jack was that much of a prick.

“I made do.” Brad shrugged. “He was young, insecure, and a lot of people do worse in our line of work.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Lizzie sputtered. “Was that the last time you had contact?”

“I wish.” Brad murmured, looking at the ground. “I ran into him again last year on set. He didn’t recognize me at first, not for a few weeks. The girl he was with, Lisa, sweet girl. He treated her like shit, I found her crying one day and sat with her, he saw me with her and dragged her off. Next day I saw her getting in the cab to leave, her lip was all busted. I was fired the same day.”

Lizzie felt sick to her stomach, her head spinning. It was worse than she’d ever imagined, she never would have thought that he was violent. A vision of him standing beside her the day before, facing off Colin, came unbidden. The fucking nerve of him! To act like that when he’d done the exact same thing himself!

Her stomach protested for the rest of the afternoon as she fought to engage with her family. Brad had left soon after Jack, apologetic and charming. He’d offered to take her to dinner, something she’d rain-checked. What she wanted to do was to talk to Maya, to try and process what she’d just heard.

After they’d visited their parents and Lizzie had been forced to listen to her mother informing her that she’d run into ‘dear Colin’ at the store, she finally managed to take Maya aside, imparting everything she’d learned from Brad. She’d been as shocked as expected, her eyes wide as Lizzie spoke.

“I always thought he was just prickly.” Maya gasped. “Figured he would warm up eventually.”

“As if, he’s been a dick since the day we met him.”

Maya looked thoughtful as Lizzie paced back and forth in a tizzy.

“I can’t believe the fucking nerve of him. Where does he get off acting like he’s so much better than everyone else? It makes me sick Maya.”

“Maybe Brad was mistaken?”

“I doubt it Maya.” Lizzie snapped. “The guy was practically in tears when he was done. What possible reason could he have to lie?”

“I didn’t say lie, Lizzie, but maybe Jack wasn’t responsible for all his bad luck.”

Lizzie leveled her sister with a hard glare, she really was naive at times.

“You can’t talk him out of this one Mai, you just can’t. He hit his girlfriend!”

“Yeah, I guess you really can’t argue with that. But what about Tom? Why would he be his friend?”

“I’ll bet any amount of money that Tom has no idea. Jack’s an actor, he can make himself into anyone he wants.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be gone in a few weeks. Just don’t expect me to have anything to do with the asshole. I love Tom to death, but not even for you will I associate with an abuser.

“I understand. I’m just so sorry this happened.”

“I’m not, because now we know the truth of what he is.”

Even Maya couldn’t see the good in him now, and she was the one who liked everyone. By the time Lizzie got back to the apartment she’d apologized several times in text for sticking up for him. It didn’t matter, she thought sourly as she sat in her living room window, she never had to see him again unless she chose to. She was just grateful she’d found out now, instead of after she’d invited him to lunch to say thank you. He didn’t deserve a thank you, he deserved to be outed. Why Brad never had she understood, Lisa was an actress and he’d wanted to spare her the scandal. Besides Jack probably wouldn’t hesitate to ruin them both if the truth was even so much as hinted at. As much as Lizzie wanted everyone to know what a creep he was, she wouldn’t do that to Brad.

“How did everything get so fucked up?” she sighed, realising for the first time how utterly unsatisfied she was with everything.

Her life had been in a holding pattern since she’d called off the wedding and if Brad could overcome what he had then there was nothing to stop her.

It was time to stop being afraid to live.

JACK

Bradley Wick! Just when he thought he’d seen the last of the cunt here he was, as always, just in the shadows of his life. Everywhere he’d stepped in the last decade Wick was there, at least in his mind. The bastard haunted him, the mistake of attempting to be the man’s friend and co-worker was something he lived with everyday.

Seeing him with Elizabeth made his blood boil, it was as if the man knew exactly who would hurt him the most and that’s who he targeted. The only reason he’d walked away was so the ladies didn’t have to witness him pounding Wick into a pulp. That and the assault charge stemming from that would ruin his career. Brad would of course come out smelling like roses, just like he always did.

“Jack, mate. Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

“Nope.” he took a shot of whiskey, weighing up the pros and cons of just drinking from the bottle.

“Seriously man, I’m worried. I’ve not seen you like this before.”

“I’m fine Tom.” another shot. “I have history with Bradley Wick, thas all. None of it good.”

“That’s all I’m going to get?”

“Yup.” If he played his cards right he could be blind drunk before it even got dark.

“I don’t like this Jack. This isn’t like you.”

“Too bad, is me now. Take me or leave me, I donna care.”

Tom just shook his head, disappearing out the door, no doubt to see Maya.

It bothered him.

The fact that he liked Elizabeth Bennet bothered him.

He was jealous of Tom, who could give himself so easily.

The fact that he couldn’t read Lizzie bothered him, her elusiveness both enticing and infuriating.

Bradley Wick suddenly being in town enraged him.

Everything had gone to shit.

Himself included.

He couldn't wait to leave this shithole, not that he had much to look forward to in London, but it was better to miserable in familiar surroundings. As far away as he could get from Elizabeth, Brad, all of them. Callum would knock some sense into him over Christmas he was sure, his little brother never failed to be the logical one. Had he listened to Callum in the first place, the two years he'd wasted with Lisa would never have happened. None of his family had ever really liked her and made no secret of their feelings, Jack had just been too stubborn to listen.

Look where that had landed him.

He didn't have the stomach to finish the whiskey, drinking the night away had gotten old in his early twenties. Losing his head was also most certainly not the way to deal with the situation?

Should he warn the Bennets?

They wouldn't believe him, no one ever did. Wick had this fucking gift of charming his way out of every situation and he already had door in the door. Nothing Jack could say now would hold any sway, plus he would have to admit his own guilt and shame in past events. He wasn't ready for that, for the disappointment and the accusation, he got enough of that from his own mind.

He found himself wandering, the sun dipping below the horizon, the breeze from the lake chilly. Jack told himself he was just going to get dinner at the only good restaurant in town and that it had nothing to do with the place being directly across from Elizabeth's movie theatre apartment.

He kept telling himself that as he sat alone in the window with his food, watching her shadow as she read a book behind the curtains. He watched her lights go out at 8:30, tipped his waitress well and shuffled back to the hotel, ready to fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.  

Hoping to escape from himself for just a little while.

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