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libraryofnesta · 3 years

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Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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anythingforakutagawa · 3 years

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Hollow words (Dazai x reader ⛈Angst⛈)

Dazai x reader ⛈angst⛈ 🚨spoilers for season 2 "Dark Era"🚨 ⚠mention of violence⚠

Life at the Port Mafia wasn't easy. In fact it was hell constant death, suffering, becoming everything you sworn you'd never be. Watching people lose them self and give in into the darkness.

All this at the mere age of 18. You've seen and caused countless, and pointless bloodshed. Taken with out reasoning innocent life's. And each day it was as if you where falling deeper and deeper into this life. An endless cycle of greed and power overrun with violence. You didn't defy the port mafia orders, because at this point you've grown custom to this thing you called life but, it did make you feel this almost unbearable feeling of cold you couldn't shake off. You didn't exactly desire death, but you also didn't see any value in living a life the way you do.

That was until you met him. A boy with the same pains as you. You could tell instantly through his bright yet lifeless brown eyes. But he radiated that warmth you have been seeking for as long as can remember. He shined a bright light over what your thought was never ending darkness with his cheerful and carefree nature.

You once heard one of your superiors say "When the lights too bright, you'll get burned."

But you knew it was all an act, you knew all too well all the bright smiles, carless touches, and words were an act to cover the monster waiting to break free at any given moment. Everyone in the Port Mafia was the same.

No matter what

Soft smile creped on your face when you enter Bar Lupins. You took your usual seat, right next to Dazai.

"Hey there Y/n!" Dazai said with his usual go happy tone while playing with the sphere shaped ice floating about his drink.

"Hey Dazai" you replied softly in-between ordering your usual drink you grown accustom from coming to the bar on regular bases to hang out with Oda, Ango, and Dazai.

Dazai whined while wrapping his arms around you, the warmth and affection you longed for but wasn't genuine, after all Dazai's blood was Port Mafia black, he wasn't a executive at the age of 18 for no reason.

You knew this.

You've seen it with your own eyes.

His heart can't feel love or produce it. At least that's what you believed, you even applied it to yourself. You and Dazai were just attempting to fill the emptiness you felt. Nothing else.

But you couldn't tear your self away from his embrace, it's was like a drug that couldn't temporary ease all the

So soft, so warm

"Awee, Bella donna. Dazai? What happen to Osamu?" Your ran your finger's delicately through his brown locks.

"Ah, sorry Osamu. Where are Ango and Oda today anyway?"

You corrected yourself before taking a small sip of your drink and settling it down where it once was. Dazai propped his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on the palm of his hand while giving you that signature shut eyes smiled.

"There not gonna come, I wanted time to myself with my lady love. You know tomorrow isn't guaranteed for us. so I want to makes the most of every chance I can get my hands on"

He was right, you were aware of either can die or get killed at any time. You just didn't like taking noticing because it felt so much better to cover up and ignore what you didn't like.

"Hey, Osamu, can you promise me something?"

He can hear the hint of uneasiness in your voice. He knew better to point it out and make a deal out of it.

"Of course! What ever it is i swear with on my life to keep that promise."

"Do you promise to never leave? You'll stay right?"

He laughs to hid any trace of pain in his voice "You know I can't do that, after all death is what I desire most in this world! How about, instead we compromise. As long as I'm alive, I'll stay"

You stood up and walked towards the door. He knew his words hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to give you false hope. Right before you reached the door knob you turn around and smiled at him , a soft, grateful, yet sad smile

"That's good enough for me. Good night Osamu"

You knew a person was truly honest with themselves when panic was brought among them. Of course you knew this based of other experiences, never yourself.

Until now.

You felt your stomach drop when you heard the news.

Sakunosuke Oda was dead.

Killed by Gide leader of the Mimic. The current case Oda and Dazai where on. You didn't know much but you knew where it all took down.

A million thoughts run through your head while getting to the Mimic head quarters.

Where was he now? Is he okay? Was he with Oda? Where is Oda now? Where they even still there?

You stopped your tracks when you saw the familiar figure walking in the rain you didn't notice until now.

"Osamu!" You called out while starting to run towards him as he turned around.

His bandages where gone. Both eyes uncovered. The sight was so, usual it caused you to stop all movement.

"Osamu?"

You managed above a whisper, he turned around and kept walking away. Then it hit you,

he was leaving

That's when you felt it.

That over whelming panic you seen so often that made you realizes

you loved him.

Your whole body began to shake uncontrollably, the only impulse you had was to chase after him. Your breath began to hitch, your legs didn't work like before, the rain caused you to trip countless times until you finally reached him. and threw your self at his presoaked shirt and gripping on to it with all the might you had left.

"Please, dont go, stay..."

"..."

"You promised Osamu! You said you'd stay as long as you were alive, remember?" You choked out through the sobs, in hopes, just maybe, he'll stay with you, even if its just a little longer.

Your heart beat increased when you felt familiar hands come in contact with yours.

To pull yours away.

"Sorry that all I gave you was false hope, hallow words, and leaving more empty than before. Good bye Y/n."

"W-why? Where are you going?" You tried to keep yourself composed but it was impossible, it was all too much.

"To the good side." he said with the gentlest voice he could manage. He once again started walking away from you. Dammit you should just stop, but

You took hold of his wrist and pled one last time

"Wait, you don't have to stay, I can go, I'll go with you to the good side. I, I, love you Osamu"

He harshly pulled away his wrist away and glared at you, a glare you never seen direct towards any one but people he repent.

"Can't you see? I could always tell what you thought. You never beloved that I actually loved you. You don't think am capable of loving. We just tried to fill that emptiness we both felt. And you were right."

Lies

He was lying. He loved you, more than anything. This is why he's doing this. You were the one good thing he had. You gave him a reason to live. No matter how dark and lost he was you always were the light that guide him. You filled that empty feeling that would always follow him since you first met.

It wont take long for the Mafia to find out about his betrayal. They'll surely come after his head soon after. If you came along, the same fate would await for you. It hurts, it hurts so bad to leave you. But he loved you too risk you in any way. This is something he had to do. There was no way around.

There was so much he yet wanted to say to you. He wanted to thank you, for everything. For loving him, for caring about him, for easing all the pain he held on to for so long. For being so kind to him. But now it was time to go. He won't hurt you anymore, isn't would be fair to hurt you more, after you were so good to him.

Your body finally give in, you fell on your knees. You wouldn't of thought after all your time in the Mafia, you consider a heart break the most painful thing that's happen to you. Such an agonizing feeling it made you body tremble, cold sweat run down your face along with an endless flow of tears from your eyes brimmed bright red. You felt your throat closing until it was from the hoarse yells you let out. This feeling of heartbreak was agonizing to the point you'd wish you could end it along with yourself. You didn't think think you'll ever be okay after this, you felt so shattered, beyond any repair

Maybe, if you hadn't realize too late, things could of been different, just maybe.

"The light was to bright wasn't it?"

You stared at Kouyou, your superior

"So bright, it burned till nothing was left. But then it went out just like everything it burned, reduced to nothing."

"You heard Kyouka, if you seek the light, you'll end up like her"

You stared at Kyouka, the same eyes as you, Osamu, and same as his subordinate, Akutagawa. All you could hope is they're never shown the light or filled with hope by empty promises and hollow words.

#bungou stray dog #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs chuuya #dazai x y/n #dazai #dazai oneshot #dazai osamu #dazai x #dazai angst #dazai fluff

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kozumekenza · 3 years

Text

house of memories :: three

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, discussion of kidnapping

Dinner is a quiet affair, the three of you sitting in the penthouse’s dining room while a personal chef serves you. The food is delicious, and for a moment, you’re yet again jealous of Kageyama for having all of this at his disposal. Pre-packaged bentos and junk food are the norm for you, so you would kill to have a personal chef.

“So, y/n, what are you up to now?” Miwa spears a piece of chicken with her fork as she speaks, her eyes locked on you.

You can’t help the smile that comes to your face. “I’m sure you already know.”

She has the foresight to look slightly disappointed. “True, but I want to hear it from you.”

You sigh, taking another bite. “I’m in college at Tokyo University, just started my fourth year. Going pre-med. My best friend is finishing up nursing school. I intern at a research lab on campus, but that’s about it for extracurriculars. Most of my time is spent doing homework and applying to medical school now, anyway.”

“Fun, I guess?”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

Miwa tilts her head. “Why do you do it, then?”

Contemplating, you pause for a second. Why are you doing all of this? “I want to be a doctor, and these are just the steps for getting there. I do what I have to do.”

She nods in understanding. “You need a break sometime, though. We should hangout sometime, go shopping and whatnot.”

Kageyama, who has been silent during the entire conversation, finally speaks. “You just want to spend my money.”

Miwa reaches across the table to swat at her brother, who avoids her hand by quickly sliding his chair back. “So what if I do? You have so much of it and you never do anything with it. Someone needs to put it to good use, and I’m sure y/n and I can do that.”

Kageyama accepts his defeat with a blank stare. “Fine.”

Miwa squeals in delight and you laugh along with her. “When are you free? I spotted this gorgeous Balmain dress that I’ve had my eye on for awhile, and last time I was in Versace, I found this beautiful zip-up mini, but I didn’t like how it looked on me. I think you would look amazing in it!”

You give her an incredulous look. “I’m free tomorrow, but I’m not quite sure that I could afford that.”

Miwa gasps. “Don’t worry about that, we’re using Tobio’s money.”

The man in question just sighs.

“I couldn’t use his money-”

“Just do it.” Your eyes snap to Kageyama, who seems ready to say anything for this conversation to be over.

“There’s no way, I-”

“Just use the money, y/n. Miwa’s right anyway, I really have too much money that I’ll never use. I’ll give you my black card.”

Your eyes widen. “I really can’t let you do that.”

“Y/n, I have three billion dollars sitting in an account that I never touch. I can afford a shopping spree for you and my sister.”

You truly can’t believe that you’re sitting in front of a billionaire. You figured Kageyama was rich, but this rich? You want to ask him how he did it (you know the answer) or if he can pay for your medical school tuition instead, but what comes out of your mouth is: “Three billion?”

“Yes. Consider it an apology for this mess I’ve gotten you into.” He takes out his wallet and slides a card across the table. “If there isn’t at least a hundred thousand missing from the account, I’ll custom order something for you.” He stands, turning towards the stairs, leaving you slack-jawed and stunned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to finish up. Y/n, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow when Miwa inevitably drags you back here to try on everything.”

Speechless, you turn to Miwa, who looks smug and delighted. When you finally regain the ability to talk, all you can do is pick up the weighted credit card and whisper, “What the fuck.”

---

The next day, you step outside of your apartment and see a nondescript black sedan parked on the street. You laugh a little to yourself before snapping a pic and messaging it to Kageyama with the caption “you won’t even know they’re there, he said”.

---

When Miwa picks you up in her Lexus after your morning lab, it’s with a coffee and croissant in hand. You sink into the seat, sipping your coffee as she drives off.

“Thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered my coffee order after all this time.”

She grins sheepishly. “It was in the file.”

“S-Seriously?” you sputter, “He has that kind of shit in my file?”

“He has all sorts of shit in that file.”

You shake your head. “At least if I get kidnapped, they’ll know my coffee order.”

“Hey, about that,” Miwa parks and turns to look at you, “are you alright? I know it’s probably pretty scary, knowing that someone has all that information about you and could use it against you at any moment.”

“I think I’m alright. I mean, I knew it would always be a possibility.”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. If you ever need to talk about it, you have my number.”

You give her a smile. “Thank you, Miwa.”

“Of course. Now let’s go shopping.”

---

You’re starting to question how Kageyama has any money at all. Miwa is a menace when shopping, dragging you from store to store, every clerk greeting her by name and suggesting anything new they have to fit her tastes. She was right, her Balmain dress is gorgeous, and you tell her so when she models it for you. She brings you to Versace to show you the zip-up mini, and you immediately fall in love. It’s a gorgeous dress, black with gold accents.

Paying for it, however, is another story. You feel so guilty when you hand over the black card, you almost tell the clerk that you’ve changed your mind. The only thing that stops you is Miwa standing next to you, her eyes encouraging you and reminding you that if you don’t spend the money, Kageyama will do it for you.

“Do you wanna stay over tonight? Tobio’s working late, and I’ve honestly missed spending time with you. You’ve always been like a little sister to me.”

Miwa’s words take you by surprise. You always thought that she hated you after you walked away from Kageyama, but her actions so far have shown the complete opposite. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you guys.”

“Of course I’m sure.” Her smile is bright as she leads you to the next store. “We have two guest rooms in the penthouse, and I want to have a girls night.”

“That honestly sounds amazing.” Hana’s on night shift again tonight, and you would much rather spend your evening with Miwa than in an empty apartment.

“Great, I’m glad.” Miwa’s smile disappears as she browses a rack of blouses. “Honestly, I don’t have that many friends. It’s hard to keep them, doing what we do, and I’m always with Tobio anyway. It’s so nice to have a girl to talk to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This is probably the first time I’ve hung out with a friend in over a year.” Miwa’s sadness shows in her eyes, and you feel awful for her. She’s always there for her brother, putting him before herself.

You pull her in for a hug. “I don’t want to say that I’m glad the files were hacked, but I am glad that you are back in my life again.”

“Me too.”

---

Somehow, Miwa convinces you to get matching silk robes for your girls’ night, along with enough skincare and spa products to last for weeks. You’re exhausted by the time you’re finally done shopping, satisfied with your purchases but still feeling slightly guilty. The numerous shopping bags are put into the car, and soon enough, you’re heading back to the penthouse.

When you arrive, the sun has already set, and she ushers you into her bedroom to try on everything you bought, just as Kageyama predicted. All in all, you made out pretty well, with two purses, two pairs of Louboutins (one pair for Hana, of course), numerous clubbing outfits, and some nicer clothes for med school interviews. Miwa claps and cheers as you twirl and spin, gushing over your new outfits.

“You look so gorgeous, y/n.”

This time, she’s referring to the robe that matches hers. It’s truly an extravagant thing, long and flowing with silk and lace. It feels nonexistent on your skin, and you think that if you had to pick one thing to wear for the rest of your life, it would be this.

“Thank you.” You’re blushing slightly as you twirl in front of the mirror. You’ve never worn anything like this before.

“Just wait ‘til Tobio comes home and sees you in it.”

Your head snaps up and your cheeks turn bright red as you rush over to a giggling Miwa, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say things like that.”

You remove your hand slowly, and immediately regret it. “Why? It’s true. He’s probably going to blush as hard as you are right now and spend the rest of the night in his room, avoiding you.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “No he won’t.”

“Uh, yeah, he will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes! He’s still in love with you! Of course he’s gonna go crazy!”

“He’s what?” You’re in disbelief, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. It’s hard to believe that Kageyama would love any part of you after you left when he announced his move to Tokyo and his future plans.

Miwa puts her hand on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. “He still loves you, y/n. He never stopped.”

“How is that even possible? I left him.”

“Oh, babe.” She leads you to sit on the edge of her bed as you wipe your eyes. “He never blamed you for that, not once. He knew that you weren’t going to be able to be with him when he told you. He’s kept an eye on you for the past four years because he can’t let you go. I kept telling him that he couldn’t keep it up forever, but then you were in the club that night, and I swear, it was fate. Y’know,” she chuckles lightly, “that night, after he saw you, he came straight up here and sat on the couch for hours, staring out the window. When I finally finished my shift and came up, he was crying. You can’t tell anyone though, because he’s supposed to be this big bad guy and all,” she waves her hand, “but that was the most emotional I’ve seen him in years.”

“Really?” Your voice breaks when you speak, and your tears haven’t stopped.

“Yes. He’s always loved you, and although the circumstances aren’t ideal, I think it’s wonderful that you’re back in his life again.”

You nod. “I missed him, and I still love him, but I don’t know if I can be with him. This is all still so unfamiliar to me, and it’s scary. I have to figure out if it’s worth it.”

Miwa rubs small circles on your back. “I know. Take as much time as you need. I’m just glad you’re here, and I know Tobio is too.”

---

After the emotional rollercoaster in Miwa’s bedroom, you two went downstairs to the living area, ordering takeout and putting on face masks. You lounged on the couch, eating ramen and watching k-dramas until late in the evening. You didn’t ask when Kageyama would be home; you simply enjoyed your time with Miwa. It was nice, spending time with someone that you once considered a sister. You were thrilled that you could hopefully regain that relationship with her.

At around eleven, the elevator dings, signaling someone’s arrival.

Your jaw drops as Kageyama Tobio stumbles into the penthouse, one hand clutching his bleeding chest, as he passes out in the foyer.

taglist: @lilith412426

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basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

Part V

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Fluffy scenes, anxious moments, cliff-hanger

▹ Words: 3.3k

▹ A/N: We are reaching the eye of the storm. Happy reading!

“ ‘Kay, so there’s no way they’re gonna win this game without him turning into the Wolf, right?”

“Finish watching it, Peter.”

Peter musingly shakes his head, mouthful of his fourth slice of pizza. “There’s no way.”

You level a patient smirk at him and point to the television, wordlessly telling him to see for himself.

The screen’s brightness fills your otherwise dark living room, casting shadows along the angles of Peter’s concentrated face. His body is sloped forward, and if he didn’t possess the body control of an enhanced being, he’d fall face-first into your carpet.

Tonight’s movie selection was your choice, and you didn’t want to disappoint. So when Peter said he’d never seen Teen Wolf, you were over the moon. Usually, you’d watch every single second of the classic film, but with Peter sitting cross-legged next to you, his hip pressed against yours as your crossed leg rests on top of his, you spent the entire time covertly peeking at his fascinated expressions.

Well into the third month of your friendship, Peter’s presence in your apartment remains to be an odd sight in a good way. Out of your ordinary. His first time in your apartment came on a day you both chose to escape the sun’s sweltering heat with A/C and ice cream, and like your first conversation in Hal’s, he never made it weird.

It was effortless. Every moment with Peter was like breathing.

If anyone else suggested Friday-night movie nights, you’d have spared no time shutting them down. But your yes to Peter harbored no resistance.

“No way!” An excited smile spreads across Peter’s face as Scott steps to the baseline to take the game-winning free throw shots. “Is he seriously gonna make these?”

You seal your lips, choosing not to spoil the moment, but Peter doesn’t see. His eyes never stray from the screen, and his lips slightly part from the nail-biting suspense. As the last shot falls through the hoop, Peter’s whole jaw drops.

When the end credits roll, he slowly claps. “That was awesome. Like I’ve got some serious chills. How am I going to top that?”

“Eh, you probably won’t,” you reply with a boastful grin. Hidden joy thrums through your body from his excitement. “Might as well call a wrap on movie nights.”

Peter playfully nudges you with his elbow, then checks his watch. “Ah, man, it’s late. I needed to be on patrol half an hour ago.” He’s up in a flash, slipping his shoes on and chewing up the rest of his pizza.

“Do you have to go?” A hint of sadness tinges your words.

“Yeah, the city would be a mess without me,” he jokes, but you weren’t remiss of his undertone sincerity. “Oh! That reminds me. Some bad guys are out on a robbing spree lately, tailing people at night, so if you work late, can you ask Chris to walk you home? Y’know, just in case I’m not there.”

He does this every time he’s over. Each week, there’s a new thing or group to be leery of, and each time he asks, you immediately nod to erase the gut-sinking concern in his brown eyes.

You rise from the couch and follow Peter to the door. He turns just as he’s about to twist the handle, stalls for a second, then envelopes you into a small, reluctant hug, leaving his arms lax just in case you wanted to pull away.

Hugging is new, something you’ve only done about five times. The first was an unplanned disaster featuring a hard shove, repeated apologies, and a long, awkward moment of silence.

You didn’t mean to push him away. It was one of those moments where, even though the urge to reciprocate was there, you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in such an innocent gesture. You weren’t ready. He respected that.

You knew your rash reaction bruised Peter more than he let on, but he learned to ease his way into your comfort zone with small touches. An intentional brush of his hand against yours, scooching closer to you on the couch, hi-fives with minimally laced fingers.

It took a while for the second hug-attempt, but you were cautiously prepared when it happened.

This time around, you return the gesture, winding your arms around his middle and setting your chin on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your nose against his warm neck. His closeness frazzles you, even more so when he diminishes the gap between you, holding you tighter to his chest before releasing you and clearing his throat.

“Be safe,” you warn softly.

He puffs out his chest. “I have nothing to fear except fear itself.”

“That confident, huh?”

“Comes with the job. You get knocked down enough times, you get pretty confident once you realize you can always get back up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And yet you still have a fear of heights.”

“Never said I wasn’t afraid of falling. Just that it gets easier getting back up. ‘Sides, most of those petty offenders scare easy. All I gotta do is say I can plant eggs in ‘em.” He shudders at the idea himself.

“Please, Peter,” you implore, a smile sullying your stern frown.

Peter’s grin, always so wholesome and calming, blankets over your nerves. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I think Spider-Man needs someone to worry about him, sometimes. Even if he can get back up. Just… let caution work alongside confidence.”

He heeds your words with a more allayed smile, curtly nodding. “Vigilance. I can do that.”

You’re tempted to wrap him back into your arms to protect him from whatever dangers lie outside of your apartment. Instead, you exchange simple goodnights and shut the door once he reaches the stairwell.

The room and your shirt preserve his crisp evergreen scent long after he’s gone. It lingers as you crawl into bed. An aromatic reminder of his caress and warm skin.

As far as friendships go, you’ve never had one quite like this. The line you drew in the sand moves. Accommodates. Shrinks. Whether he’s aware of it or not, the time you spend cracking jokes with Peter at Hal’s, listening to his adventurous feats, becoming comfortable with his physical proximity, seeing his smile and the way his eyes light up when you smile at something funny or interesting he’s said, you fall just an inch.

He's growing on you. His presence. His laughter. His beaconing smile. His tentative touch. His uncanny ability to endear himself to your foreclosed heart.

It was easier to deny the connection when you didn’t know Peter. But now that you do, every moment you’re with him intensifies what you’ve painstakingly tried to avoid.

You’re falling in love with your Soulmate.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Once again, it’s the Saturday brunch rush, and once again, Hal’s is up to its neck in bloodthirsty customers. All the booths are packed, as well as the stools. Some of the parties compact a seat meant for two with four people, and the aisle clogs with those who just came to grab a cup of coffee and conversation.

Chris is in his element, swinging from one booth to the next like a controlled tornado collecting orders, while you and Wendy are the unfortunate bunch who have to clean up desecrated tables and feed the greedy.

“If someone asks me what the specials are one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out,” Wendy grouses behind the counter as she puts away five menus.

You grumble back the same sentiments. Menus exist for a reason. And most of these people aren’t new to Hal’s, so the fact that they always have to ask grinds your gears.

11:30 a.m. is your saving grace. If you can hold on until Peter gets here, you’ll be fine.

Chris stops by the bar, pocketing what appears to be a twenty-dollar bill. “Lighten up, ladies. At least you’re off tomorrow.”

Wendy, in her 5’3’’ stature, looks feral. “I want to be off now.”

A rowdy group of high-schoolers sitting in the farthest booth is holding a contest to see who could drink a milkshake the fastest, and the two unlucky contestants shriek like banshees from self-inflicted brain-freeze. All three of you wince.

“We don’t get paid enough for this.”

Hal shouts from the back. “Order up! And stop slackin’ off out there!”

Wendy’s eye twitches as she marches to the back to pick up the orders. You’d have acted the same way if you didn’t have something to look forward to.

“They’re not going to tip me. I just know it,” Chris says to you, despondently looking over at the teens’ table again.

“They’ll come around. No one can resist this moneymaker.” You lightly bump him on the chin to indicate his smile. Heck, his whole chiseled face is a moneymaker, but that exuberant smile sells it all.

Over the last three months, just like your friendship with Peter, your friendship with Chris has improved. Even with Wendy. You aren’t at each other’s throats nearly as much as you used to be. Last week, she complimented your hairstyle, though it was immediately followed up with a snide comment: progress, either way.

Chris laughs. “And here I thought my friendly personality racked up all the tips.”

“It’s a bonus.”

He chuckles again, then blows out a hesitant breath. “So, Y/N…”

“So, Chris…”

“There’s, um, there’s gonna be another music festival in Cunningham Park tonight, and I was wondering if, y’know, you and Peter might want to come and hang?”

You and Peter… As if you were a pair. An item. A couple. To unsuspecting eyes, you knew you and Peter seemed to be just really good friends. Not even Hal questioned why you spent half an hour talking to him every weekday. If he had an inkling of who Peter actually was to you, he’d have confronted you by now.

Chris, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on you when Peter was around. As meticulous as you were about keeping up pretenses in public, sometimes you’d slip. Your smile would be a tad too bright when Peter walked through the door and took his usual seat. You’d giggle at his jokes too loud. You’d stare into his eyes too long. Signs too blatant for Chris to miss.

You’re just waiting for him to put the last piece in the puzzle.

“I’d… I’d have to ask Peter.” You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “But, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. What time is it?”

Chris lays a hand on your forehead. “Temp seems fine. Pupils aren’t dilated. How many fingers am I holding up?”

You swat his hand down with a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me saying this out loud, but I’m glad you met Peter. We all are.”

“Why?” Evidently, you’re not that great at hiding your feelings as you thought.

Chris leans against the bar top, keeping an eye on the door just in case customers walked in. “Well, for starters, you literally just agreed to hang out with me for the first time since you started working here, which was—what—two years ago. And… you… I don’t know. You’re more open, y’know? Smiling and such.”

“I smiled before,” you say, a little defensive.

“Not like you do now. Before, it was all—,” Chris screws his mouth up. It’s strange. Alienated and wire-tight. The corners of his lips don’t fully come up, and it barely reaches his eyes. You instantly recognize it—the smile you hid behind.

Did you really smile like that? How is it that you never noticed how off-putting it was? If a server ever smiled at you like that, you’d assume they wished you disappeared off the face of the earth. Is that the smile people saw? More importantly, when did you stop putting it on?

“Two more strawberry milkshakes over here!” shouted one of the brain-freeze victims.

Chris hops to it. Always the perfect server. On his way to make the shakes, he says, “7 p.m.”

“I’ll be there.”

You weren’t going to confirm for Peter until he was there to answer for himself, but he doesn’t show. 11:30 a.m. and the rest of your shift flies by without a sight of him, which is strange, but not uncommon. Homework might have him tied up. September is a pretty busy month for schoolwork, and mid-terms are approaching, so he might be buried in assignments.

Worry doesn’t settle in until you’re getting ready for the music festival at 6:30 p.m., and Peter still hasn’t sent so much as a voicemail.

Evening summer sunlight filters in through your open window, the active sounds of Queens’ busy streets and subway station not allowing your room to fall quiet. Nights like this are perfect for outdoor festivals because it’s warm enough to sit in the grass and not bring a jacket.

Rather than enjoy the idea of getting out for the first time in years, your mind remains hooked on Peter.

It’s not like him not to leave a text if he’s caught up in other things. He’d make sure to tell you where he is, how far away. Since the beginning of this friendship, starting with his little notes, Peter’s constant communication wasn’t something you expected. But now that you do, this behavior just doesn’t match what you’re used to.

You pace the floor of your small bedroom, back and forth, wall to wall, abusively chewing your lower lip and turning your phone around in your hand, working up the nerve to call him, summoning up the will to voice your concern if he did answer.

When you do call, you get his voicemail. Trying again, you end up with the same result. Okay. He’s not picking up his phone.

Fear foregrounds your frustration. It bleeds into your words as you leave your fifth message. One after the other, they morph from mild concern to despairing panic. As the sun dips lower and lower on the horizon and the orange sunlight dwindles, so does your desire to go out.

Because… maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you should search for Peter. Finding any trace of him at all would be a stretch, and Chris might be upset about you ditching your plans the next time you see him, but you can’t possibly go out knowing something may be horribly wrong with Peter.

No. No, you won’t cancel plans like that. Peter is fine. Of course, he’s fine. He’s Spider-Man. His duties as a hero come first, no matter what. And he wouldn’t want you to stress so much about him.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he is okay. He’s alive. You feel it.

Somehow, you break the trance of your pacing and convince yourself to grab a cab ride to the park. When you arrive, the festival appears to be at a content standstill. It’s not as crowded as you assumed it would be for a Saturday night. Many of the attendants, ranging from all ages, are sitting on the grass, soaking up the fading rays of the sun while the bands finish up prepping. You’re greeted by the distinctive smell of hotdog vendors intermingled with ripening leaves.

There is nothing truly scenic about Cunningham Park, aside from the interspersed trees and trails. You’d been here a handful of times when you were younger, hanging out with friends during summer break, and one thing you loved about the park back then is how the sun shone through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow on nature.

You’re more appreciative of its beauty without the sun’s effect.

It wasn’t that hard finding Chris. All you had to do was look for the person most likely garnering friends from other groups. He’s on a blanket, seated in the center of the crowd and chatting with a group of three people.

When you’re close enough to be spotted, Chris’s face mouth out into a wide smile.

“You came!” Then his eyes roamed around. “Where’s Peter?”

You try for a carefree grin but let it fall when the effort became too much. “He couldn’t make it. School stuff.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” His smile drops fractionally, less joyful and more sympathetic. “I’m really glad you made it. Hey, guys. This is Y/N, my friend from work.”

You wave a little and hope for a genuine smile to grace your lips as they all scoot to make room for you on the blanket.

Chris introduces them all. He points to a buff, curly-haired guy named Dez, who you wouldn’t have guessed would be the type of guy to enjoy small park festivals. He looks like the kind of person who regularly crowd-surfs at huge concerts and somehow always winds up with a VIP pass. The next person is a slender girl named Asha, who has thick black hair knotted into a messy soccer bun and a glowing smile.

The last person Chris introduces you to is his Soulmate. You knew just by the way he said his name. Resounding. Reverent. Borderline fanatic. His name is Quint, and unlike the others, he wraps you up in a surprising hug. What’s even more surprising is you hugging back.

“Nice to finally meet you.” His voice is richly robust, exactly how you would expect someone with his Adonis-like face to sound. Two gorgeous, outgoing Soulmates just seems unfair.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You can’t help looking from Quint’s face to Chris’s, then back again, and wondering if this is what people see when they see you and Peter—a perfect match. “Chris has told me a lot about you. All great things.”

“He better,” Quint says, jokingly gazing at Chris as a blush flared across Chris’s cheeks. “And he’s told me a lot about you and Peter.”

There it goes again: people pairing you two. It’s hard not to notice how natural that sounds, as though you two were meant to be spoken about as an inseparable whole.

You brush off your startled expression as best you can and ask, “Good things, right?”

He nods, then shares a smile with Chris. “I would’ve liked to meet him.” You roughly translate that to mean, ‘I would’ve liked to meet you both.’ The blush on Chris’s face deepens into an embarrassingly bright shade of red when he catches your eye.

A plucked, low-pitched guitar string echoes out to the crowd and effectively commences the start of the music festival. You must’ve missed the band's introduction because they got right into their music, playing a melancholic pop song that sounded pretty good. You were more interested in the guitar riffs and melodic piano notes than the lyrics, but they’re no doubt about love.

Halfway into their set, your stomach growls, and you remember that you didn’t have anything to eat since you got off work. The whole thing with Peter staved off your hunger. He’s still in the front of your mind, but you’re doing your best to enjoy the night with Chris and his friends.

Standing up, you tell Chris, “I’m gonna get a hotdog.”

He tilts his chin up in acknowledgment, then goes back to swaying his head to the music.

You got up just in time to beat the line. There are only two vendors in the park, and they’d be slammed once the music hits its intermission. The one you’re at resides near the outskirts of the crowd, closest to where you left the group, and two people are in front of you.

You wish Peter were here.

Your hand touches the outline of your phone in your back pocket while you wrestle with the idea of calling him again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.

You’re just about to unlock your phone when you hear someone calling your name—a girl.

The voice gets closer and more breathless, like they’re running at you full speed ahead and couldn’t reach you fast enough. You turn to the sound just as the body slams into you, yanking you out of line and clutching you to their frame.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You pull away and stare straight into her face, not trusting your own eyes. “Manda?"

...

Taglist: @alexandria-euphoria

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 1 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Alternate Chapter Title: Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea!

• • •

"You're the one they're dating, aren't you?" Jerry asks, obstructing the line. A few potential customers leave when they notice what's going on, not bothering to become involved in the mess. "How's that gonna even work, though? They're only into real men as far as I know. You're just bones and magic."

"This really ain't the place for us to be talkin' about this, pal," Sans replies, looking behind Jerry. "Just lemme do my job. We can talk about this after I clock out."

"Don't you have a lunch break? Let's talk by then."

"'Fraid I've already got plans for lunch."

"Does it involve them?"

"Maybe." The monster shoos him out of the hot dog stand, continuing to serve those in wait. "Dunno why you're still so hung up over this, though. Why don't ya move on?"

"That's easier to say than do." Again, Jerry obstructs the line, ignoring those who tell him to buzz off. He suspends himself over the cart and grabs Sans by the collar, pulling him off the ground until he's to his eye level. He narrows his eyes and tightens his grip on the monster's shirt, yet the latter remains calm. "How far have you gone with them? You're betraying our friendship."

Sans uses magic to break free from Jerry's hold. Then, he shrugs, hands slipping into his pockets. "Let's end it, then. Rather have that than let you keep on questionin' me over weird stuff, and then make me lose customers 'cuz ya keep on blockin' the line."

"Wouldn't have happened if you'd just tell me what's going on."

"I would," Sans comments, taking a water bottle and handing it to one of his clients. "But realistically speakin': What's it to ya? From what I've noticed so far, they've moved on from you, pal."

"But I haven't."

Chuckling, Sans takes a break from the conversation to look up at the sky, grey clouds blocking the sun and the heat. There are people around with their umbrellas already at hand. Those who don't have any rush to find someplace with a roof. "I'm gonna say this nicely, so hear me out." He emerges out of the hot dog stand and starts closing things up, not only due to the worsening weather, but it being barely ten minutes away from his lunch break. If Jerry was still at it, he needed that extra time to get him off his back. "I don't want any trouble, so stop tryna stir some. You had your chance, Jerry. Now it's none of your business who your ex chooses to date, and even less how far they've gone with that person."

"It should be if Frisk will be in the picture."

"Then take responsibility and look after them. You're worryin' too much about this."

"You don't know what I've been through."

"Maybe not, but I can at least tell you to try. Didn't you do the same when I was talkin' about hitting things off with (Y/N)?"

"That was a mistake." He scoffs, glaring at the monster. "Don't rub it in."

Sans finishes closing up right as the first few drops fall. A strong wind blows, wet earth and hot concrete wafting through the air. When he walks off -- Jerry now left behind -- Sans soon stops, hearing him mutter out a 'wait'. Then, he turns around, facing up at the human man, anger present in his posture, stiff and awkward. "Just... Just tell me if you're serious about them or not."

Though it pours, Sans is unable to move. He stays still and considers Jerry's words, thinking back on the night at the hotel and yesterday evening.

Sure, he found them attractive -- attentive and dedicated when it came to their role as a parent, too.

But why exactly did he want to be with them?

Despite his social circle, he mostly thrived alone, and taking up big responsibilities wasn't his thing, in truth. It often tired him out to so much as consider having a serious relationship with someone, and he couldn't even maintain his current friendships or the day-to-day life with his brother. He sounds a lot like the same man he's judging with those last lines, yet it doesn't feel right; that same sensation increases the more he considers his feelings and the situation overall. Living with his brother brought upon an inevitably energetic lifestyle. His personality was far different from Papyrus's, and -- on some occasions -- he didn't exactly feel his best self knowing those differences were still present between him and most of the people he knew.

So why was he getting himself into something as complex as a romantic relationship?

Was he only curious about how it all felt, having heard others around him talk about love and intimacy ever since he could remember?

If that was the case, then it really wasn't okay for him to keep fooling around with them.

And judging by how stern and persistent Frisk was when it came to defending their primary care parent, they wouldn't be, either.

"You just think they're attractive, and that's about it. Right? They're only eye candy to you, I'm sure." Jerry comments, Sans's time having run out. "Betting you ten bucks you'll ditch them the second you get bored of them."

He doesn't hold back his tongue, replying with, "Talkin' from experience?"

With the rain now pouring too hard for either of them to continue, Jerry settles by glaring at the skeleton before giving his back to him. "You dodged my question," he remarks, snickering. "Let's have a talk when you've actually got an answer, and maybe then you can go ahead and judge me all you want, bro." Silence arrives, broken with, "In the end, you're just as bad as me."

Sans stays quiet, analyzing the bit of truth in Jerry's words.

Before Frisk freed his kind, how many times didn't he simply stand by the sidelines, watching as fallen human after fallen human got hurt, sought, and wounded -- until their passing?

He didn't hurt anybody, but then he also didn't help anybody either. Things had gone in a similar way with Frisk; he'd only watched over them every so often, fulfilling Toriel's promise of not hurting any human, but half-heartedly -- seeing as he'd never bothered to help them much, either.

What guaranteed he wouldn't do the same thing here at the Surface, and even more with a human crush he was only recently getting to know?

"Sans, you're soaked!"

Speaking of them, Sans sets those thoughts aside and looks up to see an umbrella covering him up. (Y/N) stands under it and close to him, brushing shoulders as they escort him off to drier land. Their touch sends electricity down his body, yet he forces himself to ignore it, a flash of guilt overcoming those wants. He accompanies them under a bus stop, its roof providing partial cover from the rain. They keep the umbrella straight even as they rummage through their belongings, looking intent to take out something from there. "Hold on a second," they say, retrieving a pink and polka-dotted handkerchief from one of their bag's tiny side pockets. "It's… not really much, but it's better than staying all wet."

Sans nods, still too lost in his thoughts to respond properly. He takes off his jacket and grabs the piece of cloth, quirking an eye socket when he sees the human move their gaze elsewhere. "...Your shirt's a bit thin," they comment, as if reading his mind. If it embarrassed them, it was hard to tell with their voice, too quiet for him to catch onto any change in tone. "Should we find somewhere else to stay? The sky just keeps getting worse."

Almost seeming to set those priorities straight, the weather responds to their comment by lashing out more rain, stronger than before. A car drives past, sending a torrent of water at his and everybody else's direction, holding little regards to speed, puddles, and those nearby. He reacts by instinct, casting a quick shield to prevent everyone around from getting wet. As he steps back, his shoulder brushes with theirs again and he's forced to suppress another shudder. His soul and body both long for their presence; his brief time with them at the hotel has now become a faint yet pleasant memory he wanted to keep and cherish whenever possible. "Let's go," he replies. Then, he reaches out for the umbrella without looking.

He grabs their hand instead -- by accident, that is.

To his surprise, they don't pull back, and he follows their gaze to see them looking up at the sky. "...It's getting worse," he hears them say, a hint of sadness showing up on their tone, words muttered. "Let's go to my place." Their comment is pure survival instinct more than anything suggestive. He sees their chest rise and fall at quicker intervals, hinting at panic. "I need to go get Frisk if the weather keeps up like this."

Their voice breaks and their hand stays with his. Briefly, he wonders why they're scared over the bad weather, that being something mostly he was known for.

"Aren't they with Toriel today?" Sans asks, trying to lighten up the mood. "The kid's safe if you're worried about 'em."

(Y/N) remains quiet, observing the rain before saying, "I… I lost them in a storm like this one the last time they ran away." They huff, not in annoyance, but in fright -- based on the shudder their body makes. They press themselves closer to him, the height difference making their arm brush with his shoulder. Their head rests against the top of his, tilted over to the side. "I'm worried they'll do it again with what… happened yesterday."

He slips his free hand back into his pocket, still too awkward to pull his hand away from the umbrella. "Do ya really think they'll do somethin' like that again?" It's an unforeseen question, one he feels imprudent over asking. Even so, there's no turning back now, and he can only try to soften up his words better. "They looked pretty sorry for doin' that twice."

"Still…" They press closer to him, holding his waist. Judging by how careful their touch is and how little their expression shifts from their sorrow, he shakes off the possibility of this being one of their attempts at paying back at him for his flirting. "I'm worried." Their hand slips away, leaving the ghost of their warmth on his bones. "We should get going. You're still soaked." They smile, continuing with, "Thank you, by the way. It was a lot better having you pick us up, rather than taking the bus at seven."

Finally capable, Sans pulls his hand back and follows them out of the bus stop, finding additional coverage under the roofs of nearby buildings. "No problem," he says, looking up at them. Only the human and himself can be seen walking; the rest of the people around either make a run for it, or take cover inside shops and offices. "That's what we're all here for, pal."

They smile; all the uncertainty from before seems to have never existed with how bright their expression is. Then, they nod and bump their hip against his. "I mean it," they say, lips tugging upwards. "I, well… I still feel weird over our date, but in a good way, though."

• • •

He arrives at their home an hour after.

The weather's still at it, though compared to previous times, there's no thunder to worry about yet. All sorts of leaves litter the grass and the roads around, the strength of the wind being responsible for it. A few car alarms go off as debris falls over them, leaving their owners to try bringing control over the situation.

When he makes it with them to the front door, they open it up in no time at all and bundle him up with a towel as soon as they step inside.

"You should shower and change, just in case," they say, slipping off their shoes. They set the pair aside next to the welcome mat, and he figures he should do the same, too. "I'm not sure if monsters can get sick this way, but you should head over to the bathroom while I look for some clothes."

It's only when they turn to him that the situation finally gets to him. Captivated by their words, he looks up at them with a grin, that alone resulting to be enough for them to freeze and stay still, like a deer in the middle of a road. "Taking this dating thing seriously, huh?" he asks, stepping closer to their side. They don't take a step back, nor do they glare, looking as lost as humans often did when they fell Underground. "I'm flattered."

When they do show their anger, it conflicts with a frown and watery eyes -- far different from their usual self. Even when they'd become frustrated confronting Alphys and Undyne about their lives underground, they hadn't shown sorrow like this one. It's distant and concerning enough for him to want to back away from his frequent teasing.

(Y/N) takes a step forward, the clicking of their shoes now gone. Then, they lower their gaze and their frown quivers as they try not to let their tears fall. "I…" They hold on to his shoulder, bringing him closer as they do the same. Their eyes narrow and their unknown conflict shows through the wrinkles on their forehead and the subtle pout of their mouth. With how close they are, it wouldn't take much for their lips to brush with his teeth.

Just as he feels their arm around his waist, they pull back, looking elsewhere as they backtrack on their steps. "...I need to ask you something," they say, still facing away. All of a sudden, their conflict dissipates and anger returns to their posture. They cross their arms, finding strength again. "Can... Can you stay over so we can talk?"

Sans nods, keeping his cool. He tries not to think back too much on how close they just were or how they'd brushed off their sadness like it was nothing, yet it's hard to do. His soul pounds as he holds them back with a 'wait', refraining from physical contact. "You doin' alright, (Y/N)?" he asks, holding back a breath. "We can still talk about yesterday, if you wanna. Maybe we can't go anywhere with the weather right now, but I can make us that dinner I promised you last time."

Their lips form a firm line as they consider his offer.

Seconds later, a smile shows on their face. They then look down at their phone, checking the time. "Sounds good." They grin, a stifled laugh following it. "Now go change, Sans. We can't keep this up if you get sick!"

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@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

More Than Allies

Prompt: If you ever consider writing for the Sweetheart AU again (it's completely ok if not) I'd love love love to see a time where Frisk was the one to comfort Sans by being their pure, adorable self; there's just something lovely to me about the thought of Frisk realising Sans is sad and knowing exactly how to help him - anon

DISCLAIMER: This is part of a Flowerfell!AU I've got on my Ao3. I'm not posting the rest of them on here because that would take too much time and I ain't about to clog up y'all's dashes with that shit. SO imma link to this work AND the series on Ao3 so y'all know where this fits

Read THIS on Ao3

Sweetheart series

Warnings: this is a flowerfell!au, where Frisk has flowers growing out of them, so slight warning for body horror but nothing graphic

Pairings: all gen

Word Count: 1650

Patching up wounds is one thing. So is keeping someone alive.

But making them happy?

Whoever invented the concept of snow seriously needed their head dunked in a bucket of the stuff. For at least a day. When they could deal with having cold shit shoved into places it shouldn’t be shoved for hours on end, then they could say that they made a good decision.

Sans continues to grumble to himself as he trudges back through Snowdin. Grillby’s place isn’t inconspicuous enough right now, seeing as he just spent most of the night there looking after the child.

“…you better be keeping ‘em alive in there,” Sans mutters, turning the corner to make it to the edge of the town, “or else i swear, grillbz…”

He doesn’t bother finishing the threat. He knows the fire monster would burn the entire fucking town to the ground before letting harm come to someone under his protection. Hell, Sans has seen that explosive rage once or twice. He’s not very keen on seeing it again, especially not if he’s on the wrong side of it.

As he walks, his hand finds its way into his pocket, absentmindedly fiddling with one of the bandaid wrappers.

Shit.

He swerves around one of the icebergs—flipping off the wolf as he did so, he received a threatening snarl for his troubles—and hustles down the path in the bottom of Waterfall. The mushrooms blink innocently as he tromps down the path, finally making it to Temmie Village.

One of the Temmies looks up at him and snarls.

“yeah, yeah,” Sans grumbles, “i just got business with the shop. keep your temmie flakes in order.”

Luckily the Temmies still seem to hate the red glow of his eye. The rest of them part easily as he strides into the shop. The cardboard box hiding the real shop front is still soggy and mold-eaten, much like the Temmie behind it. It glowers at him as he pulls out the payment.

“wouldn’t kill you to keep it a little less decrepit.” He glances around at the artfully arranged trophies on the walls. “though it might make it harder to excuse not cleaning your shit.”

The Temmie just glares at him. Sans shrugs, the absence of the child cold at his side.

“just sayin’.”

The Temmie grumbles something Sans doesn’t understand as it puts the package on the counter. Sans nods and turns to go, thanks forgone. He’d paid. And the Temmies tended to get word after dark anyway, so he’s better off just hurrying back to the child.

‘Child.’ Yeesh, he sounds so fucking formal.

Well, Sans thinks as he scrambles into the cave and restocks the first-aid kit, death does have a way of making things sound really fucking formal.

The kid could’ve died.

Yeah, yeah, he fucking knows, they’ve died too many fucking times already. The flowers aren’t going away any time soon and they’re hurting. But that’s different. It’s different watching them die.

Sans growls as he forces one of the long gauze strips into the plastic box. The hinges wheeze and groan in protest as he finally jams the thing shut again and stuffs it under his coat. He’s been away too long. He’s out of practice.

Not at killing motherfuckers, no, he’s got that down pat. But caring.

Shit, is he even doing this right? The kid’s practically glued to his side day in and day out, partially at his bidding but mostly because the kid just decided his hoodie is perfect to cling to. It’s no different than that damn stick they won’t fucking leave behind. It’s like another limb or something.

…and he would be lying if he said the kid didn’t feel like another limb too.

Sans grits his teeth as he makes it to the shortcut chamber. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps out a quick message.

me: package in tow

hothead: Too many customers wait for 22h00

Sans sighs and slumps back down. There are just not enough hours in the goddamn day, apparently. He’s got a bone to pick with whoever invented time keeping the way it is too. Seriously. Sometimes it really got under his non-existent skin.

“time is fake,” he grumbles to himself, hand going to his pocket again, “so fake.”

He has to stifle a wince when the expected tug on his sleeve doesn’t come.

When did he get so fucking attached?

…okay, listen, when a kid growing fucking flowers out of them decides they’re your friend now, they’re your friend now. Sans doesn’t make the fucking rules, he just follows them.

That doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing.

The kid seems to remember what happens when they die. They always come back looking a little different—more flowers—but they seem to know what’s going on. Of course, that doesn’t mean Sans always knows what’s going on, but he knows enough to recognize the way they seem a little more sure of themselves. Which is good; that means they won’t be walking defenseless into any big shit storm, but that also means that if he fucks up, they’ll remember.

That’s the part he’s worried about.

He’s been doing okay…hasn’t he? He remembers they like Echo Flowers, they like the quiet burble of Waterfall, he always keeps an extra blanket at his Sentry stations, he keeps them the fuck away from his brother, and they…they like his voice.

He talks to them when he can. They seem to like being able to hold onto him—which, okay, he gets. He can’t imagine not being able to see anything, much less be a kid and have to rely completely on someone who might just kill you.

Unbidden, a bone forms in his hand. He growls and puts it away.

No. Never.

A buzz from his pocket startles him out of his thoughts. Grillby informs him he’s good to come over and he doesn’t waste another second before teleporting straight to the fire monster’s backdoor.

“Good,” Grillby mutters, already striding upstairs, “they’re almost awake.”

“any changes in their condition?”

“They’re almost healed. They’ll make a full recovery. Well…” Grillby trails off as he sits back down in the chair. “Except for…”

Grillby doesn’t need to finish. Sans’s SOUL clenches as he looks at the kid lying on the couch. They look so…so…

…fragile.

The flowers haven’t grown anymore, at least not that he can see. As he watches, a few of the petals catch the very edge of Grillby’s flames and the purple light makes them look almost white.

“how long’ve they been asleep now,” he mutters, “twelve hours?”

“Nearly.”

Sans mutters a curse and scratches the back of his skull. If they don’t wake up soon…

No sooner does the thought cross his mind—and get swatted away with the force of a blaster—the kid starts to shift on the couch.

“easy, sweetheart,” he says, worry growing in the pit of his chest as he watches them shift, “hey, kid. kid.”

“They’re having a nightmare?”

Sans bites back another curse and rushes forward. “hey, hey, sweetheart, it’s alright, i’m here.”

As soon as he gets closer, his chest starts to glow a soft white. Grillby stifles a noise of surprise as the kid reaches up for him, wrapping their hands around the lapels of his hoodie and pulling. Sans eases himself down onto the floor next to the couch and lets them bury their face in the fluffy lining of the hood.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his hand coming up to steady them, “it’s okay, nothing’s gonna hurt you, ’s just me and grillbz here, we ain’t going anywhere.”

There’s a soft sigh against his clavicle and then clumsy signs appear in front of his sockets.

“you want me to talk to you, sweetheart?” A little nod. “uh, okay. there’s a, uh, a new cave in waterfall we should check out.”

Their little hands settle in his hoodie as he murmurs to them, their head starting to loll against his shoulder. He hears Grillby stand up and come over as well, hushing the kid’s confusion with a quick explanation that it’s okay, they won’t be hurt, Grillby just needs to check their wound.

The kid just tugs on their sleeve. They butt their head lightly against Sans’s and slowly reach out.

“what, you wanna hold my hand, kid?” Fingers twine with his. “okay, then.”

Grillby chuckles over his shoulder only for it to choke off when the kid grabs for his hand too.

Sans laughs. “guess you’re stuck now too.”

“…worse fates I can imagine.”

There’s another little tug on his SOUL. He frowns, looking back at the kid’s face, only to see their head aimed at the spot on his chest where his SOUL would appear. Then they lean forward and—

“Wow,” Grillby chuckles again, “you’re in this bad.”

Sans, cheeks still warm and bright red from the kiss pressed to his forehead, just stares. The kid seems to be satisfied with the light mortification they’ve just caused. Nodding proudly to themselves, they settle back on the couch. One hand firmly in Sans’s, one hand in Grillby’s. Without being prompted, Sans cards his free hand through their hair, smiling as they let out a hushed sigh, head flopping back onto the pillow.

“They trust you,” Grillby says, something like awe in his voice, “they really trust you.”

“…seems so.”

And yet, even though Sans will readily admit he has no idea what he’s doing still, he wouldn’t give it up for all the hot dogs in the multiverse.

#undertale #underfell #flowerfell #dragonbabbles #fic

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adiwriting · 4 years

Text

Sunday Morning 11/?

This fic morphed into something much bigger than a “Sunday Morning” fic, so I am going to be trying something new. I’ll be posting this as a Sunday Morning fic, then this evening I’ll post a special follow-up “Sunday Night” fic. Don’t expect that to be a regular thing, but I figured this fic would require a follow up and our boys shouldn’t have to wait a whole week to resolve things.

Shout out to my people over at the 18+ Discord for helping me talk through this one!

Gif by the lovely @manesalex

Week 11

It’s Sunday morning and somehow, they’ve been roped into attending brunch with everyone, though Michael doesn’t really understand how. They’ve made it pretty clear to everyone that Sundays are off limits for any and everything unless somebody is dying. And looking around the table, nobody is suffering from a medical emergency.

Yet, here they are. Sitting around Isobel’s patio with the entire “I know an alien” fan club while Kyle tells some story that Michael isn’t interested in. He looks over to Alex and glares, not understanding why they’re here instead of in bed together like they should be. All he knows is that he’d been woken up by Alex and told to get dressed. When he’d complained, Alex had made it up to him with an incredibly enjoyable blow job, but the positive effects of his orgasm wore off the moment he stepped into Isobel’s backyard and saw just how many people are here.

He loves them all. He does. But he also knows them all, and there is no way they are getting out of here in the hour that Alex promised him this would last. And they can’t even use the excuse that they have to go home to take care of the dogs, because Isobel had demanded that they bring them along. Currently, Bell is at home, still not up for leaving the house. The rest of their fur babies are each being held and spoiled by their aunts and uncles. So no, Michael is about as likely to pull Alex away from the passionate conversation Liz is having with him as he is to be able to pull John out of Max’s arms or Wendy out of Isobel’s.

So here he is. Grumpy after a long week of rude customers and one transmission problem too many. He sits in silence, eating his omelette and listening to his family discuss their own stressful week. And so he’s able to notice several things.

For starters, he notices the way that Liz keeps glancing over at Max with a smile and the way that he keeps winking back at her. So he knows that those two idiots have gotten back together. He’ll never admit it, but he’s relieved. Max deserves some happiness in his life and Liz is good for him. He’s glad they finally decided to forgive each other for all the drama several months back. They’d both been idiots and caused a lot of pain, but hopefully they’ll be able to move forward and do better, like Michael is moving forward with Alex and doing better.

Then there’s the other thing, the more important thing… the way that Alex keeps looking over at Maria with a look that can only be described as longing.

Michael feels bad. He doesn’t know the entire extent of the weirdness that has happened between them, but he knows he’s to blame for at least a chunk of it. Alex and Maria still talk, but there’s been this noticeable tension between them ever since Maria broke up with him. Alex won’t talk to him about it and neither will Maria, so Michael is at a loss as to how to fix it.

Michael leans over to whisper into Alex’s ear, “You should talk to her.”

Alex shakes his head.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Somehow, Michael doubts that is true. He’s known Maria for long enough to know that she adores Alex. She also isn’t one to avoid confrontation. Alex on the other hand is notorious for avoiding conflict. He’s gotten better at it, but between the two of them, Michael is willing to bet that Alex is the one avoiding having whatever difficult conversation they clearly need to have.

“Maybe she doesn’t think you want to talk to her?”

“Maybe you should stick to fixing cars instead of trying to fix people,” Alex says. He’s smiling at him, but Michael can hear the bite in the words and raises his hands in surrender. He’s certainly not going to spend his Sunday fighting with Alex, even if he feels like he should push. If Alex wants to sit here missing his best friend who is sitting less than six feet from him, let him.

“Do you see Peter right now?” Alex asks, changing the subject and Michael lets him. He glances over at where Kyle has Peter in his lap and has to laugh at the way that Peter very slowly puts his head on Kyle’s plate and steals a bite of egg without Kyle noticing.

“I’m pretty sure that he’s eaten 2 whole pieces of bacon and half that omelette,” Alex tells him.

“He definitely learned that level of thievery from you,” he teases.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Guerin,” Alex says, to which Michael snorts. He reaches over and takes his own mug out of Alex’s hand. Alex had stolen it earlier while Michael wasn’t looking.

“No?” he asks, giving him an amused look as he sees the mug is nearly empty.

“Nope,” Alex says with an adorable smile that has Michael rolling his eyes.

He downs the last little bit of coffee before standing up and heading inside for more.

“Pour me a mug?” Alex says, causing Michael to let out a surprised laugh.

“Pour it yourself,” he says, though they both know that he’s coming back with two mugs.

Michael is standing in the kitchen adding cream to Alex’s coffee when Liz comes inside carrying a handful of plates.

“I see you finally took my advice on Max. Only took you a month. I thought you were supposed to be the smart Ortecho,” he teases.

Liz rolls her eyes. “What makes you think I took your advice on Max?”

“I don’t know,” he says, peeking through the blinds to point at where Max is sitting with the biggest smile. “The dopey look on his face? He hasn’t looked like that since before you left for California.”

She moves beside him to peek out the window as well and once she does, she practically swoons. He rolls his eyes. As subtle as a sledgehammer, those two idiots. Did they really think nobody would notice?

“You gonna try and tell me you aren’t back together?” he asks, crossing his arms and fixing her with an amused smirk.

“Fine. We are. But what makes you think it was your advice that did it?” she asks, using her hip to push him out of the way so that she can wash off the plates in her hand.

“Was it?” he asks and her glare is answer enough. He laughs. “I’m glad you two got back together. I don’t think I could have handled another one of Max’s sad drunken monologues.”

She pulls up the blinds to let the natural light in before turning on the sink and starting the process of washing the dishes.

“They’ll fix things too,” she says, handing him a clean but wet plate. Apparently he’s drying.

“Who?” he asks, grabbing a towel from the stove and drying the plate before putting it back in the cabinet.

“Alex and Maria.”

Michael doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t think that Alex will appreciate it if he tries to get details out of Liz that he hasn’t been ready to share himself yet. But he wants so badly to ask her what she knows.

“They aren’t fighting over you,” she tells him.

He gives her a look. Does she think he’s a complete idiot?

“They aren’t fighting entirely over you,” she corrects herself and that sounds more accurate.

“Why are they fighting at all?” he asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

Liz looks at him out of the side of her eye for a moment or two before sighing deeply, clearly resigning herself to something.

“They got into a fight while she was still in the hospital,” Liz explains as she continues to do the dishes and pass him the finished ones to dry. “It started over you. Alex thought that Maria broke up with you because he got kidnapped and you went after him. He felt guilty. Then he found out that she was refusing to wear the bracelet, and that’s when things got heated. Alex and Maria don’t fight often, but when they do it isn’t pretty. They both said some things they regret.”

“Alex is mad at her because she won’t wear the bracelet?” he asks.

It makes sense. Alex doesn’t like being out of control and Maria playing with fire would certainly press at those buttons. Michael gets it. He too has had to wrestle with figuring out how to accept Maria’s stupid decision to risk brain damage just so that she can have access to her visions. The risk far outweighs the reward, but Michael could never figure out how to get her to see that.

Or maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. After all, his issue isn’t about control, it’s a fear of abandonment. And he’d always been too afraid that Maria would leave him to push her hard enough on the issue. Alex wouldn’t have had that fear though. He would have pushed and pushed and…

Yeah. It doesn’t surprise Michael in the least that they’d ended up having a blow up about it.

Liz finishes the last of the dishes and hands it to him, shutting off the sink and turning to lean against the counter and look at him.

“Maria broke up with you because of the bracelet. But mostly, because she knew at the end of the day that you would always love Alex more even if you weren’t planning on ever admitting it,” she explains.

“Okay…” He’s not sure why she’s telling him about his own breakup. He knows exactly why Maria broke up with him. He was there.

“Alex thinks that the reason you are with him and not Maria is because of the bracelet.”

Michael takes a moment to process that, trying to figure out what she’s getting at.

“Alex doesn’t want much,” she continues. “He never has. He learned not to expect much as a kid and doesn’t aim high. He wants Maria safe. She’s his best friend. Through everything, he’s always had her to rely on. So he can’t lose her. But he also needs you. Can you see how those two things might be in competition with each other?”

“He thinks he’s my second choice?” he asks.

Liz looks at him like he’s an idiot and maybe he is. Because here he’d been thinking that everything has been going great between the two of them. How could Alex honestly still doubt what they have together?

“That’s why he wouldn’t tell me what they fought about,” he says. Alex isn’t the kind of guy who voices his insecurities easily. Of course he wouldn’t want Michael to know that he feels like he’s a consolation prize.

“The two of them will work themselves out in their own time, they always do,” she says. “But it would be easier for them to fix what they broke if you fix what you broke first.”

His body tenses and he opens his mouth, about to defend himself when she holds up her hand. “Talk to Alex. If you want him to make up with Maria sooner than later, then you should make sure that he knows he doesn’t have to choose between either of you.”

“Even if I convince him that he’s not a second choice, it still won’t change the fact that Maria is gonna wear the bracelet when she wants to and not a moment sooner. It won’t fix the issue,” he argues.

“Perhaps,” she agrees. “But it would be one less thing weighing heavy on him and making that first step back towards her harder to take.”

She pats his shoulder in sympathy before walking towards the door, stopping once her hand is on the handle and turning back towards him. “That was my sisterly advice to you. So we are even now. Sí?”

Michael shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, Ortecho.” She gives him a curious look and he continues. “We’re family, right? We don’t have to keep score.”

She smiles at him brightly and Michael can kind of see how Max becomes completely hopeless around her. “I never wanted a brother, for the record. But I guess you’ll do, Mikey.”

He groans, grabbing the two coffees off of the counter before following her out onto the patio. “Mikey? Still?”

“Always and forever.”

She heads over towards where Max is currently playing a game of bags with Jenna while Rosa stands beside Max, giving him shit, trying to mess up his game. Michael heads in the opposite direction where Alex is currently sitting in a chair, watching as Maria and Isobel have what looks like a photoshoot with their puppies.

“Do I even want to know?” he asks, reaching over Alex’s shoulder to place the mug in his hand and a kiss to the top of his head before sitting down at the empty seat next to him.

“Our puppies are Insta-famous apparently,” Alex says, taking a sip of the coffee and smiling in a way that makes Michael feel all warm inside.

“I don’t remember consenting to that,” he says.

“Apparently Isobel started photographing them weeks ago and they have a following.” Alex hands Michael his phone and he scrolls through the pictures that Isobel has been posting under the Instagram handle @FaithTrustPittieDust. She’s been posting pictures on the regular, apparently. He scowls when he sees a picture of Peter wearing a tiny black cowboy hat.

“Well she’s banned from puppy-sitting,” he says, handing the phone back to Alex.

“One hundred percent,” Alex agrees, pocketing the phone before shifting around so he could look at Michael more fully. “You were in there a long time…”

“I got distracted, sorry,” he says, nervously. Unsure how Alex is going to react to the news that they’d been talking about him. However, he knows that it’ll be better to just be upfront about it. “I was talking to Liz,” he says with a meaningful look.

“Okay?” He looks confused.

“She told me about the fight with Maria.”

Alex grumbles and shakes his head. “She has no concept of minding her own business. Never has.”

“I want to talk about this,” he says. Alex looks around the yard at their family and he sits up in his seat. His body visibly tenses and he prepares for a fight. It’s been awhile since Alex got defensive like this around him, but he still recognizes the signs of Alex closing himself off. “But we can talk later when we are alone.”

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, even if his body doesn’t relax completely. And that’s on Michael. He should have noticed sooner that Alex wasn’t feeling entirely secure in their relationship. But it’s also on Alex for not being honest with him about their feelings. Clearly they’ve still got a ways to go in terms of figuring out how to make this thing between them work.

They may not have the ability to have the conversation completely right now. But there is something Michael can say and he doesn’t want to wait.

“I want you to know, right here, surrounded by family, exhausted as fuck, and spending the entire time complaining because I want to be in bed with you instead? This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. The most settled. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but he does relax a bit further in his chair and Michael takes that as a win. He reaches out his hand and smiles when Alex reaches back and they can lace their fingers together.

Peter obviously comes over and tries to pull Michael off of Alex, angry that he’s not the one getting all of his daddy’s attention, but they don’t let go. Michael isn’t planning on letting go of Alex ever again. And he hopes Alex feels the same way about him.

Follow up fic to be posted tonight ;)

Tagged: @callieramics @redstalkingdeath

As always, if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex fic #fic: sunday mornings #michael guerin #alex manes #liz ortecho #doggy daddies #found family #mentions of maria deluca

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wolfsgravity · 3 years

Text

Don’t mind me I’m still having Howl brainrot

I really like him

And after I watched the movie, I realized his dynamic with Sophie is so good and like.. even though I love him, I kinda felt I’d either ruin his happiness with her if I wriggled an S/I into the mix.

I think I just came to peace with it all though. I won’t have as spectacular of an adventure with him like Sophie did, but sometimes Ghibli films show beauty in the casual too.

I think I’ll put myself into their lives about a year after the movie ends. Howl and Sophie and their little found family are living happily together. I somehow stumble across Sophie’s path, probably at some market, downtrodden and looking wholly uncomfortable in clothes I clearly don’t wear often. She, the kind soul she is, asks me why I’m crying.

I wipe my face and quietly whimper, “It’s ridiculous, but I seem to ruin everything I touch. The shop I work for keeps losing customers, no matter how hard I work. My mother just told me that her and my father only seem to fight when I’m visiting. I was just on a date with my boy.. -hic- ex-boyfriend, and he told me over the appetizers that it can’t be coincidence that even aspects of his life I have no matter in… got worse not long after we began seeing each other. Oh, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but I simply feel I must have been born cursed.”

“Cursed, huh?” She says, almost forgetting the vegetables in her basket as the events not long ago play through her mind. Curses are no joke, she knows for sure, but she hasn’t come across the idea of being born cursed. She’s only known Howl about a year, though, so maybe it could be true. She offers me a proper handkerchief that I bury my tear-stained face in. “I’ve got an idea. If you’ve got nothing else to do today, come with me. We can have some light lunch and talk more over tea. I’d hate to just leave you crying like this in a market.”

I nod and slowly get to my feet, as I had been sitting partially obscured by an empty market stall. Sophie offers me a light reassuring pat on the shoulder, but in my mindset, I recoil. When she apologizes for scaring me, I mumble, “I don’t want my bad luck to get onto you, too. Best not touch me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Sophie says in a quietly cheerful way, leading me out of the market, “I have some people back home for you to meet, I’m sure they’ll be able to cheer you up.”

So we walk a ways, with me slowly getting less sad and becoming more my usual self. By the time we get to the door for the castle, Sophie realizes I’m quite a kind and lively person, not much older than her. She understands better why I feel cursed; a delightful, albeit self-deprecating person can’t consistently meet such poor circumstances by pure chance.

She opens the door and invites me in. She takes off her hat and I feel a tiny curl of jealousy, not unusual for me, at her easy beauty. It doesn’t tint my view of her, as I consider myself an exceedingly homely person on a regular basis. She has shown me kindness, that’s what matters. She calls into the place, “I’m back from the market, I brought someone along to visit! Come down and meet them!”

We step into another room, with stairs leading up and out of sight. In front of a crackling fireplace sits an old woman, who turns and smiles at us. I give a shy wave.

“Hey Sophie,” I hear a voice, looking to the staircase to see the source. Not seeing anyone, I look around. The old woman hadn’t spoken, where had the voice come from?

“Hello Calcifer,” Sophie speaks, facing the fireplace, “I was wondering if you or Howl could help myself and Remington out.” I look at her, then at the fireplace, then rub my eyes. The fire has a face. The fire was the one who’d spoken.

“Eh, I’ll see what I can do, I guess. You know I don’t care for strangers,” the fire speaks, visibly eyeing me down. I feel self-conscious, fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of my clothing.

“Remington may be a stranger, but I’m sure you’ll all love them. Polite, kind, funny, we had quite a nice conversation on the way here.”

“Sophie!”

A voice calls out from the staircase, for sure this time. My eyes tear away from the animated fire and land on a young boy, bounding down the stairs, followed by a small dog. The child hugs Sophie tightly and then looks at me.

“Why’d you bring some strange lady home with you?”

I flinch very slightly, feeling very out of place.

“Markl, this is Remington. Please don’t refer to them as a ‘strange lady’ like that, they’ve had quite a rough day. I thought maybe I could cheer them up, and maybe get some advice about something they brought up.”

The fire, Calcifer, speaks again, “You sure know how to pick your friends, Sophie.”

“Oh?” She turns back towards him, “Why do you say that?”

“Well, I don’t know the full story myself. What was the thing they needed help for?”

I look at Sophie, and she glances back at me. “I think you can tell it better than I could, so go ahead.”

I shuffle, my hands clasping together as I feel all the eyes in the room fall on me.

“Sophie found me crying in the market,” I start, “I was trying to be quiet but she found me anyways. I told her, uhm… I, uh, know it sounds really silly now that I’m not actively super sad.. I just believe I was born cursed?”

“You said that as a question.” Calcifer quips.

“Well, because I do believe it, and I feel I have all the proof I need to back myself up. But it just sounds stupid.”

“Curses are real.” The old woman sitting in her chair pipes up.

“Well, I know magic and spells and curses are real,” I stumble over my words, looking between the woman and the fire. “I’m just not.. really special enough to have incurred a curse from anyone.”

A deep voice drifts down from the top of the stairwell, “Huh. That sounds oddly familiar, doesn’t it Sophie?”

I sigh at yet another person hearing my tale of woe, only to glance at the stairs and see a beautiful wizard making his way down the steps. I feel my embarrassment rise a notch, why are so many people involved in my sob story now?

He reaches Sophie and gently kisses her forehead, reminding me of the pain I’d felt earlier at losing my boyfriend to my curse. It figures those two would be together, they’re both so beautiful

I feel a slight tearfulness threaten behind my eyes, so I look back towards the fire. “It seems like everything I get involved with ends up getting worse. The shop I work at has been in a decline since I started working there, my family only fights when I’m involved, and my.. erm.. now-ex-boyfriend caught on and said I was ruining his life, so he dumped me.”

“Why’d you bring them home with you, Sophie?” The young boy asks again, now looking a bit angry, “What if they’re right? What if we start fighting or something?”

“Eh,” Calcifer starts, looking as contemplative as a fire can, “It’s not as cut-and-dry as a curse, here. I do sense magic, but no birth-curse.”

My shoulders sag.

“Remington, right?” He continues, looking directly at me. I nod. “You’ve got innate magic ability. Anyone ever tell you that?” My brows furrowed, I silently shake my head. “That explains it. You’ve been sending out sporadic zaps of magic since you got here. You’re not in control of them, but you probably have been feeling them as little spurts of energy that go into your twitches and fidgets. Usually magic kids get noticed and apprenticed to a magician of some kind to learn to harness their own power, but somehow your parents or whoever was in charge of you seemed to miss it. Now you look to be in your twenties, and usually a magician by your age has at least mastered and learned to outlet their own magic. Without control or a structured outlet, your own magic just pings out of you and into your surroundings.”

“Oh,” I say, eyes drifting to the floor for a few moments. Then I muster up a smile and look at Sophie. “Well, that’s certainly not what I was expecting.”

“You’d better find someone who’ll apprentice you at your age,” Calcifer says, not wholly unkindly, “because your magic won’t just stop now that you know about it. I hate to say this, but you’re unintentionally gonna ruin your own life with this stuff.”

My forced smile falters. “I thank you for your information, Calcifer. Maybe I should get out of your kind abode before I start wrecking it, huh?”

If fire could shrug, he definitely did so, “I’ve just been countering your pings, it’s pretty tame, so you have no chance of wrecking shop while you’re here.”

“Then let’s have that lunch I promised you,” Sophie reaches out and lightly brushes my arm, and my smile quickly becomes real again.

“I’d like that.”

—-

Basically, after this scene plays out, we have lunch together and Howl speaks up as I’m about to leave and says he’ll take me as an apprentice.

And I eventually start to fall in love with him, but don’t want to get between him and Sophie, nor do I think I’m good enough for him. Sophie is kind and encouraging and tells me she didn’t think she was pretty enough for him at first, either. But she’s okay with whatever Howl’s heart tells him to do, because she loves him and is comfortable in knowing they’ll always love each other.

I don’t want any Howl and Sophie angst in my ship with him. I’d like to think her and I could share him comfortably and be good friends with each other.

#ship: burdensome heart #wow this turned longer than I meant it to #I’ve been writing for like an hour?#sorry y’all #tldr in my mind I’m comfortably sharing Howl with Sophie #and there is no more pain

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a-lonely-tatertot · 4 years

Text

Bakery HeadCannon

Fitz starts it after the Neverseen

It’s in Atlantis nothing big and fancy, but soon people are all over the place about it

Marella hears about it (she has a major sweet tooth) her, Marcua, and Linh head over to check it out

Fitz starts freaking out when they walk through the door

Linh sees him first and is super excited

He has to bargin with them a bit to keep it a secret

“No I am not giving you free pastries for life nuhuh you gotta work for that”

“Okay!”

Linh and Marella hop behind the counter and start greeting customers

Fitz’s a bit startled but goes with it

They start coming in randomly, mostly helping Fitz with customers

It’s not long before Keefe and Biana are a bit fed up with not knowing where Fitz works

And so they follow him to Atlantis and find him opening up shop, they watch him and kinda look at eachother like “Okay- what?” and watch for a day, being ‘sneaky’ they’re about to leave when they see Marella and Linh approaching

The two of them are so annoyed when they find out that Marella and Linh know before they do

“I’m his sister!” “Yeah and I’m his brother!” “Keefe no you’re not.” “I would be a better one than Avlar.” Cue angrily sipping coffee (the Lost Cities have coffee and Keefe is addicted)

Marella and Linh notice Keefe and Biana watching when they walk in, they aren’t that good at being discreet and Marella just goes, “You’ve got some watchers” to Fitz as she walks in

Fitz gets super nervous because oh shit keefe’s gonna make fun of me so much but when Keefe and Biana walk in five minutes later hop over the counter and grab Fitz they have two requests

A) He better give them free food for keeping this from them

and B) Keefe is helping him out with designs because there is no way he isn’t getting in on the bakery stuff

So Fitz shows Keefe how to bake and Keefe shows Fitz how to make it pretty, and Biana helps a bit with the interior design cause its lacking and she makes aprons for them along with shirts (shes a fashion person fight me)

It’s not long before Fitz cant go a day without one of the group hopping over the counter and grabbing an apron

Sophie gives him human recipes and ingredients she has to make sure their vegetarian first the first time she didn’t Fitz wouldn’t talk to her for a week, she’ll pop in randomly and rant to him about council work and he’ll make her a drink and a pastry (sometimes one of the human recipes if its real bad) and sit down with her, some nights she’ll miss the Forbidden Cities so much that she’ll call him in the middle of the night and they’ll play human music while baking

Dex makes him machines for organization and some that help with baking but even he will agree that the best way is by hand he also made a sound system that plays human music and a karaoke machine that the group drags out occasionally

Linh drags Tam along often, and he’ll complain and grumble but when the nightmares hit worse than normal you can find him baking recipes that Fitz had made him memorize, and when he’s around the rest of the crew he can’t quite seem to focus enough to make them right but when the cities dark and he’s all alone humming along to some soft song (he loves Sleeping at Last I am totally not self projecting) losing himself in the act, and the next morning Fitz will find an couple batches that clearly weren’t his, he knows exactly who made them

Biana is there often too, cleaning up tables, adding more decorations, telling Fitz that he’s making the treats wrong (“How would you know I’m the baker!” “I just know Fitzy!”) she and Keefe will argue over which deserts are the best and they often have eating competitions (Keefe sulked for a week when Biana beat him for the first time) she often walks in and changes the music, and she and Fitz also know every word to every song that’s been played and can sing them perfectly

Keefe got so mad when he saw how Fitz was presenting his items (“THIS IS SUCH A SAD MALLOWMELT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” “It’s fine!” “I’M SO MAD IT’S FREAKING AMAZING!”) and made him sit down and taught him how to make it look good and designs all the major decorations on sweets and in the bakery it’s self, there’s a drawing that Keefe made of the whole group on one of the walls (He and Biana take full credit for the interior) he has also played many pranks to the point where everyone is extremely cautious of what they do incase of another glitter catastrophe

Every thursday is Group Night where no matter what everyone has to show up (if you don’t you will be siverly judged) and they watch human movies (a lot of Disney), do karaoke, have bake offs, and finally get to relax

The bakery becomes a bit of a second home to all of them and a safe haven it also becomes fairly famous and know for its strange food and music

EDIT (because my brain cant shut up):

Stina walking in because she heard it was good and finding out it’s fitzs and part of the gang is there and she tries to walk out but Sophie says nope your here buy something so she does and Sophie’s a bit more used to her by now because of team valiant and stina starts coming in more often cause a) how is it this good and b) Sophie’s nice and the rest are slowly warming up to her and eventually she gets invited to Thursday night and then she’s a part of the group (even if she swears she isn’t) and is surprisingly good at baking and brings in some family recipes

#kotlc #Fitz vacker #tam song #dex dizznee #keefe sencen #sophie foster #linh song #marella redek #keeper of the lost cities #stina heks #kotlc hc

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skeletonwoman · 4 years

Text

Jay is for Jacket

Hi!

So i recnelty posted J is for Jacket, and i really liked it but i felt that a lot of the nuance i was seeing as i was writing wasn’t being included. And i know it can be cheap to write the same story from two different perspectives but i just couldn’t not include the thought here, it was wriggling in my brain. so this might be a mini series and if it requires more Jason POV’s they’ll pair up in title like this

It’s him, Barbara, Cass and Steph. Not his usual group but sometimes a guy just needs some time with the girls.

Or that’s what he’ll tell Tim when he starts in on him about it. More than that, the girls are savages that definitely think exactly what he’s thinking.

They’ve all seen the texts, seen the smiles, seen the change. Dick had come right out and told them, he’s met a girl and shes his soulmate. It was a small kick in the chest for everyone, for different reasons, but none of them could deny the new wind of joy at the manor. Everyone was smiling more just Dicks radiant happiness.

He’d actually taken to avoiding the place.

And tonight, since it’s just him and the girls, they give in to the curiosity and take a wander over to her building. Light stalking aside, everyone is surprised when they see her just sitting there on the ledge.

He doesn’t think she’s there to hurt herself but Babs does, for a split second. He reads it in her stutter step.

Only one thing for it, he thinks. Just to reassure Babs, he promises. Just to see if they can see what Dick sees, he wishes.

It’s a few days and he’s back.

He doesn’t have a clue why, he’s not in love with a strange girl who sits beside four idiots and somehow emits such a calming influence that the four of them are nearly drunk by the time they leave.

Barbara promised to look into that and her, without telling Tim, but he can’t wait.

So after blowing up some idiots, Jason lets Dick go when he says that she told him to tell Jason its bed time, and when it actually works, when Dick realizes they’re done for the night and he can go to class tomorrow, he grabs his face and kisses him.

Idiot.

She’s a terrible influence on him.

And there she’s sitting, staring into the bright lights and the bright night and she doesn’t react when he sits down and the wind picks up but he senses her calm at his presence. Maybe she likes him too.

The thought makes his mind whirl, both with embarrassment that he wants to steal Dicks girl and the desperate hope that she might like him too.

She shivers.

His jacket is halfway off before he’s realized he’s moved and then suddenly its draped over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” slides through the air to brush his ears and he smiles behind the mask.

“You’re welcome.” He’s unsure why she thanked him, he probably should wash the jacket.

She’s wearing his jacket.

Shit, Dicks girlfriend is wearing his jacket.

But he can’t just snatch it off her now, her arms are in it and she’s so close to the edge.

Leaping to his feet, he races off into the night. What is he going to do? He just left Dick and immediately went to flirt with his brothers girlfriend!

That wasn’t his intention, though, obviously, he just wanted to see her. Calm down.

He’s got class with her tomorrow, he never shuts up about how he can’t wait for Tuesday and Wednesday to hang out with her.

He gets it now.

No! Not the point.

He’s back at the manor before he knows it, mask off and hanging from his fingertips, knowing there’s no way he can patrol tonight and knowing he can’t go home to his dark, cold apartment. The manor always has room, and the lights are always lit and its always warm.

Hurriedly, he steps into the warmth of the foyer and exhales a long breath.

No place feels quite as much like home.

He didn’t spend much time here, in the before, but it probably has less to do with being familiar with the place and more to do with the memories of his brothers hidden in the spaces.

Damian creeps through a door and stares at him as he stands in the middle of the room like a weirdo.

“Evil Spawn,” he offers as a greeting and the kid scowls. “What’re you doing awake? What time is it?”

“Midnight,” he says with that eerie knowing voice. He shouldn’t be so young and have that voice. “You’re here very early.”

“Yeah, it really is early.” His eyes drop to his feet, still parked in the middle of the room.

“Where’s your jacket?”

He scowls at his feet before wiping the expression away and replacing it with a more defined scowl. “I fucking lost it.”

Damian scowls back at him. “What’re you going to do then? Where’d you lose it? How’d it even come off?”

“I don’t know! I think I fell off a roof, a low one obviously, and I guess it got stolen? I don’t know.” He moves toward the doorway Damian’s standing in, knowing what comes next.

“Kneel down here,” Damian gestures to the floor in front of him and pulls a torch from his back pocket. One small hand captures his cheek while the other points to the roof and moves left to right. Then comes the torch. It’s all so well-choreographed now, allowing an eleven year old to check him for a concussion. “You’re good.”

He grins up at his tiniest brother, who scowls and rolls his eyes.

Without warning him, he rises and ruffles his hand through Damians hair, drawing a vicious curse from the childs lips. “You gonna make me something to eat, favourite sibling?”

“No.” Damian immediately counters sullenly, but he heads toward the kitchen all the same. “I’m throwing the dog a birthday party, by the way. Gifts are expected.”

This is why the manor is home, this is what makes it warm and bright.

He doesn’t get the text till late. 2pm late.

Dickson Grayne: Yo is your jacket missing I think ik where it is

Dickson Grayne: if urs is missing

He scowls at the phone, deciding not to respond. He doesn’t want to lie but she clearly wore the jacket in front of Dick without realizing they were connected. He’s gotta get it back, she can’t keep it, clearly.

He stares at the clock on his phone before he tosses it under his pillow and climbs into bed.

“Can I have it back?” He blurts before he can think and she wrinkles her nose at him, clearly annoyed, though he catches her smile as she turns to collect it from across the room. She hugs it when she picks it up.

Honestly, it looks like she sniffs it.

Maybe she has no sense of smell because he suddenly really feels the need to wash it before he gives it back.

No! No giving it back. Damn.

“Here,” she says, holding it out with a sad face. “I’m sad to see it go, it’s amazing and I’m jealous you own it. Where’d you get it?”

Before he can control himself, a harsh no escapes his masked lips and she flashes a scowl at him before masking her expression.

“Thank you for lending it to me, I really appreciated it, and have a wonderful night, Red.” The words hit his back and he stops for half a second to absorb them before taking off. He can’t think of her or the nickname right now.

Despite this, he thinks about her all night and when four am rolls around, he finds himself dropping his jacket onto her doorstep and taking off.

The first pet shop he finds will be fine. He’d have gone to a supermarket but he knew the evil spawn would know and be able to tell the difference.

It’s Titus’s birthday, and Damian is demanding everyone be present with presents for the dog.

No one celebrated his birthday last year but the dog gets a full party? Sure.

The bell rings as he walks in, already heading where he can see the collars and leads. Is that what the dog needs? New leash?

The moment he thinks it a rejection follows. Ace, letting someone leash him? As if.

All the same, he takes his time looking over the options and colours. He has no idea what he’s looking for at the this point, as he moves to the dog toys. It’s a great dane? Do they need special toys? Does Titus need special toys cause he’s a “special” dog? Should he be getting him a bat shaped toy?

He moves to the cat toys. More likely to find something bat shaped there.

A tickle runs over the back of his neck and his eyes follow the feeling to see- her.

She’s here. Staring at him. Does she- know?

He never asked what Dick had told her, what she knows. Does she even know who he is? Has Dick ever even mentioned his zombie brother?

She starts toward him and his eyes flicker over her features- she doesn’t recognise him. She has no idea who he is.

A flush of pleasure fills his body as he notices her check him out.

Good.

No! Bad!

She stops next to him as he forces his eyes to the toys before him.

“Anything I can help you find today?”

She sounds so different. His jaw tightens slightly, irrationally, and he inhales an unsteady breath at the distance she places between them.

Christ, he sounds like such a stalker.

Lowering his voice to how he imitates batman, he says “dog toy.” Hesitates. “Great Dane.”

She beams at him, still distant, and gestures to a pink elephant. Her voice is pretty darn sweet when she explains. “Some customers have issues with the colour but this guy is really the best on the market right now for dogs like great danes. Its tough, light weight, machine washable and there’s a squeaker inside.”

He grabs it before she finishes speaking, absorbing every word she offers him.

Disgusting.

He can’t help himself from offering a thank you, despite the seething and roiling mass of self-loathing in his gut. No one deserves love as much as Grayson, no one.

His gaze trips down to the elephant in his hands and he smiles. Damian is going to hate this, and Titus is going to love it. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken off and he’s following your beckoning wave just like the stupid dog he’s gotten the gift for.

A flurry of short actions finishes off the transaction and Jason clutches the bag handles in his fist.

“Thank you,” he says, keeping his voice as Batman as he can.

He turns in a rush, storming two steps toward the doorway before he feels his gut tug him hard, and spin him back around.

Without thinking about consequences, Dick, Barbara or the Red Hood, Jason nabs a pen and her wrist, scribbling down his mobile number and asking her to text him.

It’s only out on the street when the doubts and worries crash back in does he realize that he forgot to disguise his voice.

“F*ck.”

Babby: Heads up, you know who is coming tonight

Jason stares at the text, his good mood melting away. Tonight was supposed to be his brothers, his siters, Alfred, the dog and Bruce. He was going to watch his brothers be happy, ignore Bruce and give Alfred a smile. Hell, he might have even let Dick hug him and rustled the Kids hair.

Now?

Ah, hell.

yea!!

Part two? yEAH!

#jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batbrothers fic #batbrothers imagine #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanficition #jason todd imagines

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rezdogsyonder · 4 years

Text

A Fresh Start (3)

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Welcome to Burlesque.

Warnings: a trans comment that is used as an insult

A/N: All characters are the same gender, I’m sorry it’s kinda confusing :( and the comment is meant to say that Thor doesn’t look like a man but a female dressing up as a man.

**********

You follow Bucky’s directions and it led you backstage. Many dancers were running around getting ready, putting the finishing touches on their costumes before they step on stage. The sight makes you fall in love, and more determined to get a job here.

You see a set of spiraling stairs, and it seems to be the way to go because you don’t see Steve down here. The stairs were narrow and steep, it was a little nerve wracking to walk up them in heels.

Getting to the top you spotted a man doing a dancers hair. You walk up to him deciding he’s the one to ask.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Steve?” You just hope that Steve will like you.

Unable to speak due to the bobby-pins between his lips, and with his hands in this girls hair, he nods in the direction of the man that was on stage earlier. ‘Even the owner is a dancer?’ You think to yourself.

Walking up behind him, “Hi, are you Steve?”

“And you are in my mirror because?” He asked while wiping off his eyeliner and other makeup. Maybe because it smeared a bit.

“Oh, sorry. I’m friends with Bucky, and I’m looking for a job.”

“And where have you danced?”

“At home, mostly. But I can move.”

“Okay,” he smiled, seemingly stifling laughter, “give your name and number to Sam.” He turned around and pointed to the man doing another girls hair. “He’ll let you know when we’re having our next audition.”

“When will that be, exactly?”

“Sam?” He yelled applying bronzer, “Where the hell is Thor?” Ignoring your question

“I don’t know. He’s late.”

“Oh I’m never late. Ever.” You interject.

“That’s great. Listen darling,” he finished up his work and walked towards you and Steve. “We’re trying time put on a show here. ‘Kay? You need to come back another time.”

“I’ve just never seen anything like this before. I need a job. I wanna work here.” Sam’s now leading you away and towards the stairs.

“Good enthusiasm, terrible timing. Alright? So leave your name and your number with Bucky, your friend downstairs.” Giving you one more push, “and we’ll call you. Okay? Promise.”

Not knowing what else to do, you turn around, about to listen to him when you ran into someone.

“Hello” it was the guy from downstairs by the bar, and he obviously wasn’t happy that you ran into him, causing him to drop a bag, spilling his costumes out on the floor.

“Oh my god! Thor!” Steve said so dramatically you would’ve thought he would faked fainting too. “You know you’re probably not gonna believe this but Sam and I were talking,” he put his arm around Sam, “and he said..” he gestured for him to talk.

“I said, ‘Its so sad that Thor couldn’t join us for the opening number, but it would be so great if he joined us for the next one’.” They were obviously mocking him, making it seem as though it was a regular occurance.

“Looking this pretty took longer than I thought.” He replied dully.

“So is looking for a job when I fire your late ass.” They both smiled.

“Yeah, right.” Turning around and grabbing his bag from you. “Hey. Bring me a scotch, neat. Tell ‘em it’s for me. And hurry back.” Not waiting for you to leave as he gets undressed.

The girl from out front grabbed your shoulders then smiled at him. “She doesn’t work here Thor.”

“Well then she’s not busy.” He said incredulously.

A moment passes and you watch him as you notice one is eye blue and the other is a beautiful yellowish brown. He has thick blonde hair, and is very well groomed.

He looks back and glares, “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s not polite to stare?” He continues to apply his makeup

“You’re just so damn handsome, I—” you stutter out.

“Well in that case, screw your mother. Stare away.” Smiling at your compliment.

“No one would ever know,” you began walking back to the stairs.

“Know what?” He snapped.

“That you’re not a dude.” If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now, but you feel smug as you walked down the stairs while the others laughed.

**********

Back downstairs, you feel defeated. You’re about to go talk to Bucky again when you see the waitress from earlier is more occupied with the more active group. You guess that’s why they called her the shot girl.

You go over to the man that was trying to get Natasha’s attention and take his order. Along with everyone around him too, then walking back over to Bucky.

“Hat guy wants daiquiri, and around him are two whiskey neats, a bourbon on the rocks, and a rum and coke.”

He looked at you and continued wiping down the bar, slowly getting farther from you.

“Oh come on! Give me a chance, please. If I’m not better than the shot girl over there you don’t have to pay me.”

“Ok follow me.” Bucky commanded walking fast.

He led you back down the hall that leads to the entrance, you were about to say something when he pulls out keys and turns right. He quickly opens the door and ushered you inside.

“Your small.” He looked you up and down, “this should fit. I’ll be right outside.” And he walked back out, leaving you in what looks like a small break room.

You get dressed in the sleek black romper he gave you and went back through the door. Leaving your clothes on the rack where he got the uniform.

“Alright, you keep your tips, anybody touches you and you point to any bartender and they’ll take care of it. You ready?” You nod. “Then you’re up.” He pushed you back in the room.

You grab your tray and began to work when the next number begins drawing your attention away.

“A kiss on the hand may be

quite continental

But diamonds

are a girl's best friend”

The girl from the balcony was on stage again, lip syncing and walking around stage gracefully. You began to work despite the distraction, imagining when you will be up on stage.

You didn’t expect to do so well. You already have 30 in tips and the song isn’t even over.

“Hey, Buck, what's she doing here?” Steve said as he and Sam sat down at the end of the bar.

“She really wanted a job.And so she is our new waitress.”

“And when did I make you Head of Personnel?” Steve asked incredulously.

“She just picked up a tray,started working.”

“Really?”

“Well, her name is Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Sam breathed, dramatically, seemingly star struck.

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve called your over. “Look, this is cute, but come on. Push up those boobs. If you got ‘em, show ‘em. Work them.” He unbuttoned the top two buttons of your romper. “And don't ever go behind my back again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And don't ever call me sir again.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean sir. I mean Steve.”

“Get on the floor.” All three watched you walk back into the large crowd of patrons

"’Sir’?” Steve said bewildered

“What am I, my father?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Up yours.”

“Come on lets go back.” Sam slapped Steve’s shoulder. They both disappear behind the glass door.

A man at a table that is almost hidden from the main floor, but with a perfect view of the stage calls you over.

“Excuse me. Yeah. Dewar's rocks and a bottle of your best champagne for the table. Oh, and will you tell Strange that I'm here?”

“And you are...?” You answer back with a hand on your hip.

“A member since '91.” He gestures to himself as if it’ll make you know who he is. “Tony Stark. And you are?” He smirked.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He leaned back, impressed, but you’re not sure of what. A cocky aura radiating off of him.

*Meanwhile backstage*

“I’m here. I’m ready.” Thor came bounding up to Sam.

“You are late. Bruce went on for you.” Thor peaked through the curtain, displeased.

“What’s that hag doing here?” Referring to you, serving drinks at a face pace.

“She is our waitress.” Sam pulled a tight lipped grin.

“Surely she can’t work here. I want her gone!”

“What did she do to you?”

“She said I looked like a drag king.”

“Can’t be the first time.”

Thor glared at Sam and looked around for a member of the stage crew. “Hey buddy,” the man on the platform above them looked down at them. “Get my spot.” And Thor walked through the diamond curtains.

I've heard of affairs that you

must keep liaisonic

Are better bets

If little pets get big baguettes

Time rolls on, and youth is gone

And you can't straighten up

when you bend

But stiff back or stiff knees

Back and forth, Bruce and Thor fought for the spotlight.

Outdoing each other with more and more dance moves, getting the crowd excited.

The dances and choreography are mesmerizing, and you try to soak it up as you watch. The customers too intrigued, they forget they’re waiting on drinks. You make mental notes of the choreography and each spot they’re on onstage.

You’re attention is brought back by Bucky. “Y/N. Y/N. What do you need?” He asked amused at how easily distracted you are by everyone.

“Dewar’s rocks and champagne. And keep it coming.” You turn back around to watch the show once again. “So he’s a regular huh?”

“Stark? Yeah, he’s dating Stephen. At least this week.” He puts the bottle of champagne in a bucket and fills it with ice.

“I wanna be up there. I wanna do that.” You gesture towards the stage and look back at Bucky. He stops pouring and looks back at you. Looking you in the eyes. He sighed and leaned forward.

“Question is... do you have the talent?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel #avengers fic #avengers #bartender!bucky #bartender #burlesque

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latitudesunknown · 4 years

Text

Tiny Haven Gazette #3

In which I drop the gazette format because it takes an ungodly amount of time and nobody cares. 🎉

My house gets a first floor, and coincidentally, my storage doubles, which is a relief. That should free me from spending 30mn every day desperately trying to figure out what to part with for at least a month.

So much space!

And now that it’s been upgraded, I get more customization options and can change the outside of my house!

¨🦄¨

By sheer dumb luck, I finally figure out how to get money trees!!!! I can’t believe it took me so long (although I’m very happy I never looked the answer up online). I should have known there was something up with the glowing golden hole that appeared whenever you dug up some money, that thing was clearly magic!

My pockets were full, so I had no choice but to bury back the money bag I’d just dug out, and this happened. Honestly considering how often I walk around with full pockets I’m astounded this didn’t happen sooner.

So now I have a little money tree orchard. Next experience: does the money tree give you MORE money if you plant a bigger money bag? Tried it this morning, will get an answer in a few days.

¨🦄¨

Raiiiiinbow!

That’s it. There’s no story to go with it, but it’s the first rainbow I’ve seen in the game!

¨🦄¨

I can’t stop thinking about that sweet little cow I saw on @astorytotellyourfriends ‘s island last week, so I decide to build the last house in the hopes of finding her on an island and inviting her over.

In the process, I realize I could have built myself a beach house all along.

Damnit!

To my horror, however, the very next morning, the house has been sold to a stranger!

Thankfully, my new neighbour, while not being Norma, is just as sweet.

I covet her living room SO BADLY. And also I kinda wanna eat her. Why would you design a rhinoceros to look like a cake?! She must get nightmares where people run after her, trying to bite off her strawberry horn.

¨🦄¨

Shortly after, and as a result of me ignoring him completely for a few days, Phebus FINALLY decides to leave the island.

I actually took a chance when I decided to talk to him, considering that’s the way he always looks.

“Good luck with the neighbours, their stories and their problems... you’re going to need a good dose of patience!”

That shouldn’t be a problem because, unlike you, I actually like people!

And because I like people, of course, joke’s on me, because I feel super sad to see him leave. 🙄

¨🦄¨

Following his departure, I start buying mystery island tickets like a crazy person, hoping to bump into Norma, but so far, no luck.

Why did I meet so many chickens?!

It’s the second day Phebus’s old house is on sale and I’m sure it’ll get sold to a random NPC any second now. The stress is intense!

¨🦄¨

I don’t know what’s up with them but everyone on the island keeps asking me if they should change their catchphrases! After the tenth time, I finally give in with Lili, assuming she’ll just come up with a new one on her own, but then am faced with a horrible screen that is asking ME to come up with something on the spot!

Have I mentioned how much I love it when she makes that face?

It took me ten minutes and some internet research to come up with this. This is too big of a responsibility!!

At least she was happy about it.

I’ve gone back to refusing to help the others, though. At least not until I can come up with proper catchphrases for them!

¨🦄¨

For the very first time, I get asked to play postman for my villagers. See, Nacer’s been bonding with Kali (no wonder, since they’re both jocks), but he was too shy to give him a present himself.

“Kali has helped me so much, I picked up a present for him. But I’m too shy to give it to him myself...”

Feeling like cupid, I hurry to Kali’s house. 👼🏹💘

“A frog costume! Oh la la!”

I have to admit that wasn’t the kind of gift I’d been expecting considering how much they both love sports, but ok!

“Did Kali say something about the gift?”

That was super cute, I hope I’ll get more requests like it!

¨🦄¨

In the span of one week I must have learnt about 20 new mimics, which, honestly, I find baffling. Most of them are just sliiiiight variations, it’s ridiculous. In the game I used to work on we ended up with about 50 expressions per character, but that was because they needed to express a wide range of emotions in very subtle ways. You don’t need that for cute island critters, especially when emoting is such a slow process in the first place!

¨🦄¨

Justine visits again one night, which gets everyone on the island talking.

“Since we have a visitor, I’ve baked some cakes. I hope she’ll like them...”

“I absolutely MUST tell her ‘hi’ before she leaves!”

“No, don’t mind me, you’ve got a visitor! Focus on being a good hostess!”

I like their reactions so much I spend more time speaking with my islanders than my visitors whenever I have one, haha.

Also, I love the smoke trails in the sky whenever a plane leaves. That small connection to a bigger world is very comforting.

¨🦄¨

Abraham, true to himself, is adorable.

“Good evening, sweets! Grum grom grom... My tummy also says good evening!”

🥰

Later we play to a little game with freakishly accurate results.

“Let’s play! Tell me your favourite color, and I will tell you what food you are.”

“You chose orange, which means you’re easy to live with, but you can also sometimes feel lonely.”

In the end, he said I was an onion. Layers, y’see.

¨🦄¨

I also finally figure out how to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, and get treated to many a story.

Lili : I just read my horoscope... You’re not gonna believe it! It’s sick!

Phebus : What am I supposed to not believe, exactly? The horoscope, or the fact that you managed to read it through? You know what, just tell me what it said, let’s get this over with.

Lili : Listen to this... “Your travels will bring good surprises.” Isn’t that sick?! Especially for me, because I love good surprises!

Phebus : Um... I guess? I mean, I don’t know. How did that make you sick? I’m confused.

Lili : Nah, just wait! After that, I went shopping, and it was the spring sales! Get that, I got a sweet little dress on sale! I was so happy I thought I was going to pass out!

Phebus : What?! Don’t kid with that! D’you need me to call for help?

Lili (totally ignoring him) : So anyway I put on my new dress and went for a walk. And that’s when it started raining big time, and I got drenched... Why didn’t my horoscope warn me about that?!

Phebus : I don’t know... have you tried reading the weather column instead?

¨🦄¨

I catch Vanessa and Maëlle talking about a movie they both watched... except they both remember it very differently...

Maëlle : Oh, Vanessa, thanks for lending me that movie, I loved it! The costumes were gorgeous... I want the leading lady’s straw hat!

Vanessa : And that chase in hydro planes! Pfiiiiiiiouuu, ppfffz, ka-BOUM! That was awesome sauce!

Maëlle : And that dress with golden trimmings that she wears at the picnic... that was fine art!

Vanessa : And what about the fight against the giant robot? When he punches a hole in the planet? Whazaam!

Maëlle : Yes! He really stole the scene with his diamond plates... It must have cost a fortune! ... ... Wait, did you say he punched a hole in a planet? Was that before or after the ball?

😂

¨🦄¨

Later, I find the same two talking about Maëlle’s insect infestation problem (probably caused by all the sweets she keeps in her house, just saying). When she asks me what I would do, I tell her I’d just move out, which gets me a VERY judgmental look from Vanessa.

“How do you manage to get rid of them?”

Vanessa’s solution, in the end, is for Maëlle to sell her house to “an insect-loving weirdo”. I wish I knew if that was a dig at Abraham or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Bah, that can’t be impossible. You just need a real weirdo who thinks insects aren’t so bad!”

¨🦄¨

Lili and Raymond get into a big argument about Lili’s cooking skills...

Raymond : By the way, Lili, I haven’t thanked you for lunch the other day! It was very good!

Lili : “Very good”? Seriously, don’t you have something even more corny? Nobody says that anymore! Don’t you mean it was delicious? Or maybe extremely refined? Or maybe super exquisite?

Raymond : Oh! You’re right, I’m sorry. Um, it was... delectable... succulent... A concentrate of sheer deliciousness!

Lili : And?

Raymond : And... every bite sent my taste buds into a transcendental ecstasy?

Lili : Oh! Is that a question or a statement, Raymond?

Raymond : A statement, of course! Pff... All that to describe a stupid sole meunière...

Lili : Don’t tell me you’ve just called my sole meunière, my mother’s own recipe!, “stupid”?!

I’m still amazed that they parted in good terms, I thought for sure Lili would keep on fuming

¨🦄¨

After trying to get my first residents to spruce up their apartments, with mitigating results...

I mean, the ball, jars and punching sack are all gifts of mine, so that’s cool he’s got them all out at the same time, but that’s still a sad little barren house.

I finally look it up online and discover their houses are actually not supposed to be like this at all! Turns out poor Nacer, Vanessa, Abraham, Renée and Lili are all stuck with generic houses because they got to my island too soon!

This is what Renée’s house should look like!

So I’ve decided to try and gift them all their true houses’ furniture, little by little. I know they can’t change their wallpapers or floors, but hopefully if I get them the right couches, beds, etc, they’ll display them all. 🤞

#animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #long post #my post

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scripts4dreamers · 5 years

Text

Royal Duty pt. 1

AN: Royal!Theseus Scamander AU, the reader is queen of a powerful nation, the daughter of a secretive and wise king. However, the nobles around her insist that she must marry if she is to rule, as her father had wanted.

Characters: Theseus Scamander, Newt Scamander, The Scamander Parents, Leta Lestrange, Tina Goldstein

Pairings: Theseus x reader, Leta x Newt, Tina x Newt

Prompt: just a genius idea from the phenomenal @quid-ditchcaptain loosely based on The Princess Diaries 2.

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

You groaned and collapsed back onto the chaise lounge, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. Leta smirked and sat down beside you, elegance dripping from her every pore as she stroked your hair comfortingly.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” she smiled, enjoying your suffering a shade too much, “it’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is,” you countered, “I have to get married, Leta, married! Otherwise they’re gonna take away my crown.”

“Going to,” Leta corrected gently, “not ‘gonna’. Also the house of lords can’t actually dethrone you, they’ll simply pass a series of laws that seriously limit your power to make autonomous decisions regarding the future of the country, that’s all.”

You huffed and shot Leta an annoyed look. She positively oozed nobility; every action, every word, every lilt of her smooth voice was imbued with the kind of confidence that only came with having been born and raised to be royal. In comparison, you looked infantile and crass; the lowly daughter of a king who had kept his marriage to your mother a secret up until his recent passing. Compared to Leta lestrange, you looked like a commoner.

You sat up on your elbows and sighed, feeling the events of the past few days like a physical weight on your shoulders. You looked up at the portrait that hung on the wall beside your bed, the image of the handsome, smiling man whose eyes crinkled at the corners the same way your did, sending a sharp pang of sadness through you.

“Oh, that’s all, is it?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you forced yourself to sit up straight, “Come on, Leta, you know that that wasn’t the future my father had envisioned.”

Leta followed your gaze and made a soft, understanding noise in the back of her throat.

“Your father was a great king,” she said kindly, “and he loved you very much, but I don’t think he expected any of this.” She paused and in her silence you could hear the echoes of what everyone else had been saying.

He’d expected to have a son, he’d expected a suitable male heir to take over the throne after he’d died. He’d expected to have more time. He’d never expected you to rule.

You looked up at the portrait again and felt the familiar wash of tangled emotions rush through your body. You’d loved your father, truly, but you were also so angry at him. Why had he never told you that he was king? Why had he never declared his marriage to your mother? And why, why had he never prepared you for any of this? You blinked back tears of anger and grief and took a deep breath in, turning to face Leta.

“No,” you told her, trying to imbue your words with authority, “no, my father may be gone but I’m still here. Whether it was his intention or not, I’m queen now, and it’s my job to keep this country strong, and I can’t do that if the house of lords disempowers me.” You explained, steeling yourself for what had to come next, “If putting a king on the throne beside me is what it takes to make sure that that doesn’t happen, I’ll do it.”

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

Your carriage bumped and jostled down the cobblestone path, the green lawns of the massive estate rolling passed the window. In the distance you could just make out a looming castle, and your stomach dropped. The nation of Burgundy was rich and powerful, everyone said so, and with two single, unbetrothed princes of marrying age they were the natural choice for any marriage treaty. It was logical, it made sense. Drafting the courtship agreements had taken weeks, your advisors had told you but, luckily, Burgundy was in dire need of allies to protect them from their more expansive neighbours. Your own country, Sokovia, rich and powerful in its own right, had a famously strong military, both on land and by sea. It was a match made in heaven. Theseus Scamander, Duke of Southrey and heir to the Burgundian throne, was to be your husband, if all went well and, through your marriage any...children you may have would inherent both crowns.

You stroked your skirt carefully and swallowed hard, trying to distract yourself from what you were doing by marvelling at the beautiful fabric. It was gorgeous, brand new and it reminded you of something that the great queens of the past would wear. Your mother had said that it was supposed to make you feel powerful and strong but right now you just felt anxious and slightly queasy. You looked up at Leta and sighed. As usual she looked totally unbothered, lounging elegantly against the velvet seats and watching the scenery go by without so much as a nervous glance.

“I can feel you burning a hole in my head, Y/N/N,” Leta said, her eyes not leaving the window.

“Sorry,” you sighed, “I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous about what?” Leta scoffed, “You’re a queen, these guys are just princes. If anything, they should be nervous about meeting you.”

You sat up a little straighter, swelling with quiet pride at Leta’s words, but deflated again quickly, “Yeah, but their crowns don’t depend on them making a suitable match, mine does.”

Leta shrugged and turned to catch your eye, “So? They don’t know that. For all they know, you’re just a young, beautiful queen looking for a good marriage alliance.”

“But surely-”

“Y/N/N!” Leta interrupted with an incredulous laugh, “You’re the fucking queen, you’re my queen” she laughed, “you’re a noble now and perception and public opinion need to be your new best friends. Truth is a luxury we can’t afford. The best way to maintain your position and pacify the lords at the same time is to let little prince Theseus know as little about your political situation as possible.”

You worried at the inside of your lip, uncomfortably aware of the castle looming closer and closer, “Is that any way to start a marriage though? With lies and deceit?”

Leta rolled her eyes at you fondly, patted your knee and leant back in her seat, her eyes firmly fixed back on the scenery, “Worry not, dear queen,” she said, “I have no doubt that your future husband will be quite adept at keeping secrets of his own.”

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

It was a beautiful place, you thought to yourself as your ladies-in-waiting helped you from your carriage. The air smelled like roses and honeysuckle, and the sky was so blue it nearly hurt to look at. Under the bright summer sun, the castle’s stone facade seemed to glow and some small, silly part of yourself though that maybe you could be happy here. In a flash though, that thought vanished in a trumpeting of horns and a wallop of loud, cheerful applause.

You looked up and forced yourself to smile through your queasiness and wave, trying your best to look serene and regal. It looked as though the whole castle had been dragged out and scrubbed clean for your arrival. Nearly two hundred men and women were cheering your name, applauding and welcoming you to Burgundy. You tried not to scan through the crowd with your eyes, reminding yourself that you were a queen, not some nervous schoolgirl arriving to her first dance. As was custom, the royal family of Burgundy were amongst the crowd, standing on a raised platform and cheering politely.

After a respectable time, the royal family dismounted and made their way towards you, trailed after by a band of finely dressed nobles, all of whom were whispering cheerily to one another, no doubt already dissecting every detail of both you and your entourages’ appearance. You smirked quietly to yourself at the sight. It seemed that no matter where you went, noble families behaved much the same.

“Welcome to our humble home, your majesty,” The king of Burgundy greeted warmly, giving you the respect of a deep bow, “we have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

You curtseyed and smiled warmly, “Thank you for the warm welcome, your grace,” you replied, “your nation is beautiful. I am truly humbled”

“Ah, Your Grace, it is Burgundy that is humbled by you. Your beauty has not been exaggerated.” he complimented, making you blush. The king was a handsome, cheerful looking man with twinkling eyes and an easy smile, you instantly liked him. He smiled and continued, “let me introduce you to my wife, Queen Margaret and my sons, princes Theseus and Newton Scamader.” Your gaze was drawn quickly to the tall, wavy haired man standing beside the king, his piercingly blue eyes boring into you.

This must be him, you thought to yourself as he stepped towards you, your future husband. He was certainly handsome, you admitted, but cold and distant looking, like a prince of stone. His hands were folded behind his back, and he looked more like he was heading to an unpleasant lesson than to meet his future bride. You searched his eyes for something, anything to betray how he felt, and smiled shyly at him, trying to commiserate over the uncomfortable situation. But your smile withered quickly, as you were met with nothing but cold, clinical indifference.

“Your Grace,” Theseus greeted, taking your hand and bowing low, his voice pleasant but unfriendly, “welcome to Burgundy, it is a pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

You swallowed hard but curtseyed, plastering a smile on your face that felt terribly fake.

“The pleasure is all mine, prince Theseus,” you replied, quietly enough that only he could hear, “but Queen Y/N is fine, or even just Y/N, since we’re to be married.”

Theseus stayed in his bow for a moment too long and, when he stood, you thought you saw a flicker of irritation cross his face.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate, Your Grace,” he countered, his eyes focused on somewhere above your head.

Theseus offered you his arm and you took it, your stomach dropping as you began to walk, Theseus still avoiding your gaze. Behind you, you could hear the younger prince, Newton, greeting Leta, and other noble men taking the arms of your other ladies. None of that mattered though because, as Theseus steered you towards the castle, his father cheerfully calling out to you, you were painfully sure of one thing. Theseus Scamander did not want to marry you and, as you looked at the cold, stern faced man beside you, you weren’t sure that you wanted to marry him.

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smilingformoney · 5 years

Text

America’s Most Eligible 3 Diamond Scene: HeroCon

You: I’m ready for my close-up! Next stop, HeroCon. Omar: Great. Get a move on. We’ll tip off the reporters. Wrenn: Have fun, but most importantly, ham it up for the cameras. We’ll be filming from a distance. You: Will do. Ready for this, Fiancée? Fiancée: I was born ready. You two run away hand in hand, causing a commotion as you manoeuvre through the crowd. One by one, the press follows, hot on your heels. Ivy: Wait, don’t leave! I was just about to tell you my pre-wedding exfoliating regimen!

You arrive surrounded by reporters and their cameras, drawing attention from the HeroCon attendees. Your fiancée smiles and waves. You: Wow, can you believe this place? Fiancée: I can feel my inner nerd getting stronger by the second. A reporter waves wildly to get your attention. Malcolm Tate: Jamie, Fiancée! You ditched Ivy and Vince’s press conference to come to HeroCon. The question on everyone’s mind… Why?

You: Because… -My fiancée can’t help but spoil me.

You: Wedding planning is hard work, so of course my fiancée wanted to whisk me away to regroup. Fiancée: Taking care of you is part of my job now, after all.

-I want to see it with my one true love!

You: We may have the rest of our lives to make memories together, but I want to get a head start! Fiancée: For us, forever started after they said, ‘Yes’.

Fiancée: But now that we’re here, what do you want to do? Fiancée: We could go to a meet and greet, play some games, take pictures with cosplayers… The sky’s the limit! You: With so many great choices, this is gonna be a tough one…

You: Let’s… -Take pictures!

You size up a nearby gladiator as he swings a mace and challenges fans to duel. Fiancée: I hear these cosplayers are pretty serious about their craft. Are you sure about this, Jamie? You: Positive. You march over to the gladiator and face him head on. Gladiator: Three enter my arena. One shall leave. You: Uh, can we just have a picture? Gladiator: Only those that defeat me in combat may take my likeness.

You: In that case… -Prepare to die!

You and your fiancée arm yourselves and face him menacingly. Gladiator: We who are about to die salute you. You: Right back at ya. The three of you throw punches and fake blows until the gladiator throws up his hands in surrender. Gladiator: You have proven yourselves worthy adversaries. I yield. You may have your reward. The cameras rush over and take photos of the gladiator kneeling at your feet as you and your fiancée stand triumphantly.

-We surrender.

Gladiator: Aww, come on! I worked on this costume for months, and no one wants to fight me? You: It’s just because… you’re so scary! Fiancée: Right! You’re the scariest guy here, and no one wants to risk a humiliating defeat. Gladiator: Really? You: Totally. I’m shaking in my boots! Gladiator: Well, maybe one picture with you guys will show everybody that I’m cool. You: It’s worth a shot. You, your fiancée and the gladiator squeeze in tight for the cameras while the crowd looks on. By the time you two step away, a line of fans ready to wage war has formed.

You: That was… something. Fiancée: But on the bright side, at least we can say we’ve gotten the full HeroCon experience.

-Play video games!

You: It looks like they have an arcade section. Ready to get schooled? Fiancée: You have no idea what you’ve just done. You’re on. You and your fiancée manoeuvre through the crowd as you lead your entourage to the old school arcade machines. At the front, you notice a familiar game. You: Check it out… It’s Solar Strike. A teen leans over from a nearby machine. Teen: Pretty sweet, huh? It was custom-made for this year’s HeroCon. You play? Fiancée: We’re about to. Ready, Jamie? You: Let’s do it. Your fiancée watches over your shoulder as you ready yourself at the controllers. Quickly, the loading screen boots up…

And the game drops in on a deserted rooftop overlooking a busy city! You peek over the edge and take notice of the steep drop. Suddenly, the speakers blast the high speed whirring of a nearby helicopter, and the camera angle adjusts in time to watch an evil villain drop from the sky. Villain: … Solaris: Hey, big guy. I think it’s time for your nap. You hit the villain with a flurry of attacks, knees, elbows, fists, and feet all connecting in swift blows. Solaris: What’s the matter? Too fast for ya? Before you can think, he catches you with a wild punch, dealing a devastating blow. Solaris: Oof! Villain: Kneel before my victory! Solaris: Not in this lifetime. You leap into a jumping kick and knock the villain’s head sideways before sweeping his legs, his health bar turning a sickly yellow… Villain: Ahh! But still, he gets to his feet, ready for more. Solaris: He just keeps coming. I’ve gotta knock him off the roof… without getting too close myself.

Solaris: … -Use a solar flare! +SOLARIS

The villain charges you as you ready a solar flare and aim it at his chest. You: Time to say goodnight. A burning beam shoots from your hand, connects with the villain, and sends him reeling backward. Quickly, you flip over his head and land in a crouch. Solaris: Have a nice trip. You extend your leg, catching his ankle and sending the villain toppling over the edge. With an echoey scream, the villain falls to his doom. Villain: Ahhhhhh!

-Push him! -HEALTH

You: This ends now. You rush forward at a breakneck speed, just as the villain begins to charge you. Solaris: Incoming! You slam into the villain, forcing him backward… but he latches on! Your momentum sends you both careening over the edge of the building. Solaris: Nooo! Villain: Death comes for us both.

-No action -HEALTH

Solar Strike: Enemy defeated.

You: Whoa, talk about intense… Fiancée: I’m totally buying that once it releases!

-Meet some celebrities!

You and your fiancée wander over to the meet and greet booths, marvelling at the long lines of fans waiting for autographs and photos. You: There’s no way we can wait in one of these lines and make it back in time. Fiancée: You think there’s any chance they’ll let us skip? Before you can respond, a woman walks up with a pad and pen, self-consciously fixing her hair as she smiles for the cameras. Fan: HeroCon has really stepped up their celeb game! I love AME… Do you think I could have your autograph? You: It’s the least we can do to thank you for watching. Fan: Wait until everyone at school sees this. I’m gonna be on TV! You sign your name and pass the pad to your fiancée who decorates the page with cursive script. Immediately, a line forms as more fans rush over for photo ops and signatures. Voice: It’s a sad day when I’m not even the coolest guy at HeroCon. You turn to find the source and come face to face with a man in glasses. He extends his hand for a handshake and smiles as you return it. Ben: I’m Ben Park, the artist responsible for Solaris. You: It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jamie, and this is my fiancée.

You: I’ve gotta admit, I… -Am your biggest fan!

You: I’ve actually followed your career from the Venus Corps days. Fiancée: Starfall is still a legendary game. You: What’re you doing on the east coast? Ben: Didn’t you know? HeroCon’s my Coachella. I make the pilgrimage to this convention every year.

-Have never heard of you.

You: Are you a celebrity or something? Ben: Not really. I used to illustrate for Venus Corp, the comic book company that made Starfall. Nowadays, I freelance and work on a web comic. Fiancée: I thought you looked familiar. Fiancée: Your poster is all over the convention centre. You’re like comic book royalty! Ben: If that’s true, I have the world’s most flammable kingdom.

Ben: And as long as we’re being honest, AME is kinda my guilty pleasure. But I didn’t realise you had such an extensive film crew. Fiancée: Actually, we’re here to drum up a more interesting storyline than Ivy and Vince’s love story. Ben: I must’ve missed an episode. Those two are a couple? You: They’re engaged. And if we want to get married at the end of the special, we need to impress the judges and win over America. Fiancée: With all of the trademark AME twists and turns along the way. Ben: Well, you can count on my vote. And any fans of mine that are watching should vote for team Jamie- Fiancée too. +50 You: Thanks for that. Something tells me we’re gonna need all the help we can get. Ben: No problem. I’ve gotta get back, but good luck, Jamie. I’m rooting for you two.

The reporters grow restless and move in closer. You do your best not to wince as the bright lights sting your eyes. Your fiancée shifts to shield you from the glare. You: Even in front of a million cameras, I feel like you’re the only one who really sees me. Fiancée: Think that’s a good enough reason to spend the rest of your life with me? You: I hope so. Can you imagine the AME divorce special we’ll have to do otherwise? The cameras continue to crowd around you, the reporters looking on impatiently, some checking their watches. Fiancée: What do you say we give them something to look at before we head back? You: My pleasure.

You: … -Flash my ring!

You: You guys might want to shield your eyes. This thing’s got some kick! You hold your hand out to the reporters, and your engagement ring sparkles in the flashing camera lights. Gloria Ortiz: The fans are gonna go crazy for this. My story’s gonna break the internet! Allen Bennett: Not if I beat you to it.

-Kiss your fiancée!

You pull your fiancée close until their chest is flush with yours, your eyes locked on their lips. They smile, and the rest of the world falls away. You press your mouth to your fiancée’s hungrily, their hands finding the small of your back as you bite their lip gently. They moan, and you slide your hands lower… Malcolm Tate: Whoa! Any more, and I won’t be able to use this footage. Gloria Ortiz: Your network has always been soft. ‘Mix It Up Miami’ is ready for whatever you two throw at us!

The reporters bicker between themselves, and your fiancée gives your fingers a soft kiss before lacing them in their own and leading you back to WedCon.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices ame #choices america's most eligible #america's most eligible

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some-rfa-imagines · 6 years

Text

A Big List Of Prompts

i thought ‘why not?’ and made one of these for myself. I wandered around the internet for a while and shoved together a bunch of prompts I thought were interesting. Pick a character and a number (pls specify) and I’ll write you a thing!

Most of these are not mine!!!

hhhhh lets hope i know what i’m doing

Dialogue:

“I don’t think this is the biggest mistake you’ve made. It’s probably like… third worst.”

“Shouting at each other across the room doesn’t count as having a proper conversation about your feelings you know. Wouldn’t you rather all of this be private, anyway?”

“No pressure, honest. It’s not like the world is depending on you or anything.”

“But if they think we’re a couple, we'll get the couples discount!”

“Are you always this prone to bad luck and violence? If so, that’s kind of sad.”

“Can I just whoop your ass… like… right now?”

“Rules? Nope, not listening. I’m not following them. Never have, never will.”

“Did operation steal the cat and return the nuclear codes get completed yet?"

“I call it 'the plan that will save the world and also remove minions for good'."

“what the hell are you doing with (other character)'s dog locked in your garden?!"

“Yeah!, heh, I just uh remembered that, uhm- I have- uh.. I have a few places to see and uh *ahem*, people to go- I mEAN- uhm, yeah,,, I-I’ll- I’ll be right back— oh! Uh, completely unrelated to that, uh, ngh, wheres the nearest cliff?”

“Shut up [name], just because you have the grace and social skills of a drunken ferret, does not mean I must.”

“You’re so convinced that I’ll hurt them that you haven’t considered it’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“What have I told you about listening to your gut more? It’s smart. Do it.”

“Pal, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m a good person, but if you want to keep it. Leave now.”

“I can be sweet. Sometimes. To certain people. It happens!”

“Stop laughing!”

“Call me [blank] - not that that's my name.”

“So I suppose you want to ask me how I pulled it off.”

“Didn’t you know darling? The key to getting away with a crime is making people think you are peaceful.”

"I hope that what I've said hasn't hurt you too much."

"Move away from the door and let me at him."

"You embarrassed me this evening."

"I want to turn back the clock to before..."

"Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!"

"There's something I need to get off my chest."

"I did a pregnancy test."

"If you get me his phone, I might reconsider."

"I knew you wouldn't be able to see it through."

"You were meant to be watching him!"

"How dare you look down your nose at me like that."

“It’s not my fault you’re short.”

“Tell me right now or I swear on my life you’ll regret everything.”

“You’re back!”

“I missed you.”

“I did my best, okay?!”

“Kiss me right this second.”

“Just do it!”

“I believe you’ll come back to us. I just know it.”

“You’re not a bad person… You… You wouldn’t…”

“I can’t trust you… Not anymore.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“You promised we were in this together…”

“Wait a minute, are you flirting with me?”

“You’re even more stunning.”

“As many as the stars in the sky.”

“CAN YOU EVEN READ?!”

“You’re actually the most insufferable person I’ve ever had the pleasure meeting.”

“I risked everything for you.”

“I… I love you, okay?”

“Who the hell are you and why is my favourite book in a puddle of orange juice.”

“This is a lot harder than it looks and I don’t think you realise that.”

“That’s the lamest pickup line I’ve ever heard of.” “Damn. Well, it was just plan A.” “And what’s plan B…?” “To take you hostage.”

“What the fuck did they do to you in that lab?”

“Ehhh, needles, comas, that deep freeze thing in the first room, shoving these onto my back. Oh also they forced me to eat soggy bread.”

“Love, you underestimate how much food I can shove in my mouth before I need to be stopped.”

“Okay so why did you have to smash that vase again” “I DIDN’T MEAN TO, IT GOT IN THE WAY”

“Welcome to my treasure trove.” “There’s a sword.” “Yeah.” “wHY DO YOU HAVE A SWORD.” “...” “caaaaaan i touch it?”

“Love, I’ve done this before. Every hundred years. For seventeen millenniums.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO (NAME)?!”

“Are… Who are these people? They- They look like me…”

“So, what do you want for dinner?” “I’m thinking Italian. Like, Italian.” “BABE.”

“Oooh, look at the detail on that mirror.”

“Okay now you’re just messing with me and you need to stop.”

“Okay, I know I’m idiotic to get lost in a corn maze but who the fuck are you and why are you apparently as idiotic as I am.”

“I was on my way to buy that soul for Satan, who do you think you are. You can’t do that.”

“I’m sure you know who I am.”

“Huh…? Oh, fuck.”

“I swear to god, my little sister will kill me when I get home.”

“Bit rude to swear to God right now, don’t you think?”

“Fuck. I’m going to die. Damn.”

“YOU DEFINITELY WILL IF YOU DRINK THAT.”

“You know you can’t bring (them), Your Highness, (they’ll) be used against you.”

“Don’t hold me responsible, I wasn’t even there.” “Yeah, but you gave me the idea.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

“The fuck did you say they put on my gravestone?!”

“Honey, I don’t care if you’re the fucking queen or an uncooperative cat, get off your ass and live your life you trash bag.”

“Hey, calm down, please, oh god okay, calm aura, calm aura, please stop freaking out, calm down, it’s okay, you can do this.”

“So that’s it? We’re done?”

“Please, just… hold me. Just for a moment.”

“I think I’m just gonna sleep outside and let the snow bury me until I die.”

“So… what are we?”

“Don’t you dare take another step out that door!”

“This better be good.”

“That… was the worst excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I’m saying you don’t have a rulebook.”

“These kinds of things don’t just come with an instruction manual, [name]!”

“Why, that’s absurd!”

“I would never.”

“It makes me so uncomfortable when people ask me, ‘Where do you see yourself in 'x’ years?’ Like… I see myself cold in the ground, my guy, but that’s not the answer you want to hear so this is an awkward predicament we’re in, huh.”

“Listen up fucker.”

“Let me tell you all the reasons why I won’t do that.”

“HAVE YOU HEARD OF A TURN SIGNAL EVER IN YOUR LIFE”

“I am already the family disappointment, what more do you want from me”

“Do you?”

“Get. Out.”

“If people are watching, we might as well make this entertaining!”

“I’ve absolutely never seen you in my entire life so if you’ll just excuse me now, have a good day!”

“Okay, stop going to sleep at 4am, it makes you philosophical and sentimental and that’s weird.”

“Make me.”

Setting:

The night sky lit up for a second and what followed sounded a lot like the end of the world.

It's not always the case of 'these guys are foolish to only send one guy' sometimes it's 'we should be terrified they only sent one guy.’

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that you're going to like this story.

Without meaning to, they’d arranged two dates for the same evening.

Everything about [name] was a lie.

They'd only been apart for a week and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.

You guys were taking forever and I was hungry so I baked cookies who wants some?

First Lines:

[Character] had enjoyed ten years of being totally irresponsible.

The pencil had NOT been worth stealing.

[Character] wasn't happy about it, but [pronoun]’d been recalled to life for one reason or another.

If [Character] could change one thing, it would be carrying that gun.

It was enchanting. Either that or [name] was incredibly wasted.

AUs: (many from this blog! Complete credit to them)

Masquerade Ball AU: Person A and Person B can’t recognise each other

Frustrated Customer and Tired Employee AU

Hitman AU: Person A and Person B are hired to take each other out

Assassin AU: After watching B for so long, A has begun to fall for them

Pirate/Mermaid AU

Coffee Shop AU: Why’d you have to smile at me like that, I couldn’t even concentrate on your order oh god I’m blushing why am I so fLUSTERED

Overthrown Royalty AU: Okay so I love you and all, but why the fuck did you have to start a war they’re going to kill you - you’re a dead (queen/king) walking and I hope you know that.

Blood dripped down B’s chin. A knew B was a vampire. A knew they needed blood. But it was a little offensive when B drank from others!Vampire AU

my little sister really looks up to you because she’s going through that phase so she’ll probably kill me again when i get home!Idol AU

Fantasy AU: A is suspicious of the legends. You know, those legends. Everyone knew about them. The ones about the dragons in the hills.

Spy AU: “Fuck, why did you have to be the one to join me on this mission you do realise that it’s dangerous and they don’t care whether we die or not.”

I know my cupcakes are better than your blueberry muffins and that’s what matters and wait holy shit these are actually pretty good!Baking AU

Medieval AU

(Alt) Modern AU

We were both stood up by our dates at this fancy restaurant and they have an ‘at least two to a table’ policy so you need to have dinner with me AU

I know shit all about music theory but I’ve already written and composed hit songs while you’ve been taking lessons for years and struggle with melody please don’t kill me!Musician AU

I answered your weirdly specific craigslist roommate ad as a joke and now we’re living together!Roommates AU

You’re really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish your drink are you trying to look mature or something!coffee shop AU

reincarnation AU: person A meets their favourite band/singer and realises they were friends in a past life

Hello I’m your boss and you’re the new employee who just saw me shove an entire cupcake into my mouth!Office AU

We’re neighbours and you work at a flower shop and your place is always filled with flowers. I’m too self-conscious to say anything, but I’m allergic af and I look like I’ve been crying every time we meet. Now you probably think I’m in an abusive relationship or something omg

I don’t really know you but we’ve shared a bus stop for years and I just got my first car and I hope this isn’t weird but what I’m trying to say is do you want to carpool with me from now on? Like, to save the environment, I mean.

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

I came up to the roof of our apartment building at 2 AM to see this asteroid go by and just as I stepped out you came running at me screaming so naturally I froze and you’re screaming at me so loud I can’t understand what you’re - oh the door locks behind you. Well now we’re both locked out here gdi

someone in the dorms makes amazing cookies and you’re trying to figure it out and walk in on me baking at four in the morning!College AU

I found you duct-taped to a telephone pole thirty feet off the ground

Just to be polite, I held the door open for you but now we’re both insisting that the other go first and we’re seriously about to get into an argument about it and cAN YOU JUST WALK THROUGH THE DOOR P L E A S E

I’m in this museum for a school project, but you are apparently here for fun and good lord you are good looking, so I’m totally going to pretend I know anything at all about the life and works of this random artist…Rembrandt, you say?

IKEA AU: I’m a cashier and when you looked for your wallet about a hundred of our pencils dropped out of your pocket, that’s actually pretty impressive where did you even hide them?

I was rehearsing lines for the romantic lead and I didn’t see you through that window, I had no idea that YOU were playing my romantic interest and now I can’t remember a single line

I tried my hand at this thing called cooking but I ended up making enough to feed a small army. You’re my next door neighbour, so like, are you hungry? You can bring the beer

Soulmates:

Looking around, A tried to spot their best friend when they saw it. Their own handwriting, on someone else’s arm.

A sees B in their mirror every night. They’ve never met in real life.

You can see colours but realise that recently, with each passing day, your world of colours is becoming a little duller and you’re panicking because you don’t know what’s going on, or what it means, or if your soulmate is okay.

We’re having our first argument as a married couple: do we explore this island, or do we stay in bed all day

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

You’re not sure if the other half of your tattoo should end with this person’s words, or that one’s—wait, I think it might end with the phrase of that other person too. It’s just a very open-ended sentence…

You’re an Angel and I’m a Demon and we met while hiding in human form and I love you

Author:

Write an apology letter to the character you hurt the most.

Complete the sentence for [character]: “I think the most important thing in the world is…”

You see someone being hit in the street. What superpower would you like to have in this situation?

Write a scenario where you meet your characters.

Would your characters like you? As a person or as an author?

Have a philosophical conversation with your characters.

I would love if you added your own prompts to this! I’ll probably go back and add more later. in the meantime, i’ll go hunt down all the necessary credits! byee~

#hhhhhhhhhh this took foreeveverrrrrr #bUT IM DONE #i will go back and try and find all of the necessary credits #im v v v sorry if i miss some though #damn i didn't write them all down #that was a dumb mistake #anyway #go nuts pls #and feel free to reblog #<3 #puffle talks #not writing #writing prompts #prompts #au

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