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the-lark-ascending69 · 16 days

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How would Stobin happen in the Scoops Ahoy Ronance AU?

Answering this after a million years 😭

I imagine this AU to be kind of a Steve-Nancy role swap AU in which Nancy is with the Scoops troop while Steve is... with Jonathan. Solving mysteries. Now, I haven't watched s3 in years so I don't remember much about Nancy and Jonathan's plotline, other than Nancy was the driving force through most of it, but in this AU the timeline shifts a bit so that she gets fired, alongside Jonathan, way before the events we see in S3, so that by its start she already got a new job at Scoops Ahoy (which is humilliating to her, but she needs the money). She already did some work and by the time Jonathan realizes she was right all along, he's alone because 1) Nancy is incredibly mad at him and 2) she's too busy cracking Russian codes. Dustin is the one to pull him to the side when he tries to explain everything to her (she would have dropped the code immediately to go back to help him if that were the case) and tell him that, if there's one thing he learned at summer camp, is that when a girl is angry at you, it's best not to push her. He pats his shoulder and tells him "you know what? I got just the right man for your quest". The man in question is Steve.

Jonathan would not accept to work with Steve unless it was absolutely necessary.

Again, I don't remember much about that storyline, so I couldn't tell you exactly what happens, but I imagine it would be pretty funny, with Steve coming up with more and more idiotic ideas each time and Jonathan being pissed about it but unable to send him away because he still needs help. I imagine they wouldn't become close friends, but they'd find a way to get along just fine.

That means Robin doesn't meet Steve after much later, through Dustin, in fact. Since they're not friends, he doesn't get a job at Family Video, and is instead wandering around looking for jobs, not being hired, not doing anything with his life and being constantly roasted over it by Dustin, who's become pretty close with Robin lately and he swears she's perfect for him, dude, he should totally date her. Steve isn't so convinced - Robin? Talks non-stop Robin? Band nerd Robin famous for passing out in the middle of a theater audition in school in front of everyone because she got just a little bit passionate about a scene? (Rebel Robin is canon to ME!). Robin is weird. Steve doesn't date weird girls ("You dated Nancy" / "Yeah, 'cos Nancy isn't weird" / "Dude, she literally dressed as an elf princess for one of our campaigns. She's a nerd" / "Wait, Nancy plays that shit?" / "You have a lot to learn about women still, my friend").

But then he needs to work with Nancy and Nancy had a new best friend, and she is - let's face it - insanely hot. Like Steve is kinda left breathless, staring like an idiot when he first sees her - Weird Robin was attractive all along?? All Dustin has to say is "I told you" ("...yeah," says Steve).

So Steve makes it his new mission to ask Robin out. Nancy makes it her mission to stop anyone from talking to her Robin.

A few important notes about Nancy and Robin's friendship so far:

They're each other's first female friend in years.

Nancy has no problem at all with Robin liking girls, but Robin still feels a bit awkward about it. If Nancy were a boy it would be different but Robin really, really doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. She wants to be One Of The Girls for once.

Robin has a big crush on Vickie, but she won't tell Nancy despite Nancy's repeated attempts to talk about girls (she's trying to make Robin feel normal. Most girls like talking about boys, and she knows Robin is secretly a repressed romantic at heart who's just scared of showing emotion. A little push will help, right?).

Robin tries to act as "normal" as possible with Nancy, never bringing up anything that might remind Nancy that her new best friend is a lesbian. Nancy has no such concerns and will often ask Robin about girls she think she might find attractive.

Robin is almost physically holding herself back from seeing Nancy in a romantic light. She is NOT going to ruin this friendship.

Nancy thinks Robin is the most beautiful girl she's ever seen.

Nancy is incredibly protective of Robin.

Nancy feels a bit weird about the idea of Robin getting a girlfriend some day. She tells herself that, at first, she was just getting used to the idea of a girl having a girlfriend, then, that she just wanted to enjoy a friendship with a girl again without the involvement of boys or any romantic interest that might come between them, as a return to a more innocent time. She does want Robin to be happy, though, and would try to help her with girls if Robin allowed her to.

Steve finds all of his attempts to speak to Robin frustrated by Nancy intentionally interrupting him.

"She's not interested in you," she says.

"Did she tell you she didn't like me?" Steve asks.

"A couple of times, in fact. She did call you a douchbag."

"Maybe that's because she doesn't know me."

"Steve, believe me. She's not interested."

Every time Steve tries to speak or flirt with her, Nancy intervenes by either pulling Robin along with her, as if she were her right hand man, always by her side in every mission, or she'll begin talking to Steve, forcing him to direct his attention somewhere else.

Steve falls low. He falls very, very low, because his next step is to ask Dustin for help, which must be just the most embarrassing thing he's ever done, but jeez, Robin just has that effect on you, and Nancy is like a very mean guard dog with her, so he needs a distraction. Dustin will pretend to be interested in journalism, or girl stuff, or whatever Nancy likes, doesn't matter. Or he can just go annoy her for a few minutes so Steve gets a chance to talk to Robin alone.

Robin is not impressed. She knows what he's trying to do, but she decides she'll take the chance to bully Steve a little, just for fun. She replies with "wow" and "really?" to everything he says until he realizes she's being sarcastic. She makes fun of him for a while before making things clear to him: she's not interested.

"Why?" Steve asks.

"Because I have my eye on someone else," she says. "Besides, you're not my type."

"Really? So what's your type?"

"Well, for starters, I am drawn to profound souls and intelligent minds."

"Hey, I can be smart. I helped save the world like, two or three times."

"Given our current situation, I don't think that makes you all that special, Stevie boy."

He tries to get her to admit who this boy she likes is. He tries to guess, naming every guy their age he knows. Robin is mildly entertained and amused so she lets him provide free white noise while they walk through the woods. It helps her not get bored with all these fucking trees around them.

And then maybe they get separated. Maybe they're in the woods at night while running from the search party and from Jason, who is hunting them. Nancy, Eddie and Dustin are on one end, with Robin, Steve, Lucas and Max in the other. They'll reunite as soon as possible, but they can't stop now.

And maybe Robin realizes Steve is not that much of an asshole when she sees him comfort a terrified Max, or put himself on the line to protect Lucas. He cares about the kids more than he cares about himself. He talks to them, gives them directions, makes sure everyone stays together and safe and who would have guessed? Seems like Steve the hair Harrington has a sensitive side.

And he gets to see Robin is more than a pretty face when they do come face to face with Jason.

He's looking for Eddie, Lucas, and everyone he knows associates with them. Steve and Max would be good enough targets for him. He is only tangentially aware that Robin is friends with Nancy, Mike's sister, but she quickly turns that possible weak spot into a strength.

She tells him she's so terrified - her friend's brother might be involved in that horrible cult. That's what motivated her to join the search party. She doesn't want anyone else getting hurt (Robin spins lies like a spider spins webs). In fact, she overheard Mike say something once - Eddie was planning to leave Hawkins soon, maybe on that very same night, he could be on the road as they speak, which is why Robin found it so imperative to be with the search party tonight, to find Eddie before he leaves. Jason and his team rushes out of the woods and in direction to the nearest road, thinking themselves smarter than Robin.

They make it somewhere safe. Robin and Steve stay up to keep watch - they insist the kids have some sleep. Lucas and Max cuddle adorably, and Robin just wants to pinch their cheeks because they're so damn cute together. Steve keeps an eye on them while Robin watches out for the search party. They talk to keep each other awake - Steve tells her about how he became a mother of six, and Robin tells him how she became best friends with Nancy Wheeler, which isn't an easy feat, mind you (though she excludes the most personal details). She tells him she speaks four languages and is learning a fifth. Steve tells her he gives great hair advice (he asks her if she uses conditioner. She asks him if he rents his head out to the council on weekends to use as a speed bump). Steve laughs. He tells her he'll leave her alone - it's fine if she doesn't like him. Plus, he's probably not ready for a relationship anyway. He should focus on things other than pretty girls, like college, someday, maybe. Max is definitely his focus right now, keeping her alive and safe (as he's been doing ever since that first fight with Billy), and nothing else should matter. Robin respects that a lot, actually (she'd never thought she'd put the words "Steve" and "respect" together before). He still thinks she's cool as heck, though, and he'd love to be friends. Robin doesn't feel terrified this time, like she did when Nancy said the same thing eight months ago. She doesn't feel the need to tell him her darkest secrets. She just likes having someone pure of heart and dumb of ass to poke fun at. She can't believe she's becoming friends with Steve the hair Harrington. She wants to be real, actual friends, thogh, not friends-as-a-shortcut-into-her-pants friends. Steve laughs. "Real, actual friends," he agrees.

Nancy sees them exchanging jokes and laughing when they reunite, and she's surprised - finds it amusing - but also frels a strange pang of jealousy in her gut. She knows Robin couldn't let a boy come between them if she tried, and she's happy she's making more friends - she is! - she doesn't know where she's going with this. All she does is to embrace Robin tightly when they're together again, happy to have her partner back by her side. Steve eyes Nancy curiously. He's not the smartest, but he seems to notice something Robin doesn't, something not even Nancy sees, though he can't quite put his finger on what the strange thing is.

#ronance #scoops ahoy ronance au #stobin #robin and steve are friends in this au but they're not BEST best friends #the title of Robin's best friend belongs to Nancy this time #though - spoilers - Steve is still the first person to know about Robin's feelings for Nancy... when she starts feeling that way #because this is a nancy fell first scenario baby! robin is oblivious and with her eye on vickie while nancy suffers silence #she also tells Steve she has a crush on Vickie before she tells Nancy #something Nancy feels sad about. she doesn't understand what she did to make Robin feel like she had to hide it from her #while Nancy is closer to Robin in this AU #there are things robin only shares with Steve for some time #my posts

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whysodelirious08 · 2 years

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It's Not The Same Anymore. [E.M]

A short story in the form of a conversation. You can place yourself listening to the oc or imagine a character from ST. Whatever you feel fits.

Less than 1k words.

It's sappy but I think that's okay. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

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Hi…I'm not sure if we've met before. I'm not very good at remembering names, or faces for that matter. Still, I'll introduce myself just in case; I'm Marie-Anne and just for the record it's pronounced Mary and not Ma-rie. Sometimes people get it wrong. It sometimes makes me smile.

I'm not sure if Eddie has told you how we met. He's not so good at explaining it since he gets side tracked. Typical Eddie huh?

As a kid I primarily lived with my mother and travelled around the world due to her work, I thought I was living the cool lifestyle. That's how I saw it as a kid anyway but when I'd got bored or needed some stability, I'd go back to Hawkins and stay with my father. Eddie was the only one who cared enough to be my friend, only one who would sit and listen as I told him about my travels. No matter the time in between it was like I had never left. I would get him souvenirs from the towns and cities I had been to. Mainly magnets but I had to stop when the fridge became too crowded and Eddie's uncle would knock them off by accident.

Actually…Eddie sourced out a piece of metal just to make room for more magnets. He was kind like that. He'd go out of his way to do anything for me and for others too. He'd do the impossible if he had to, that's what he always said.

"For you I'd do the impossible, a thousand times over as long as you're happy" I remember when he had first said that; we were at the scrap yard, trying to find something cool but nothing more than a broken radio. We sat on the rusting frame of a corvette, even though Eddie joked that I worried too much, I was so convinced I was going to fall through the frame. Looking back now I wish I didn't leave the next day. I'd give anything to just stay in Hawkins during the times I left. Now that I'm older I realise perhaps it was cruel to leave so often.

He gave me a cute little black watch for my birthday, he was so excited to give it to me that he almost dropped it. I wore it constantly, like a prized gem ring, it was the most precious thing I had. In the midst of the incident it came off, I'm still upset about that. It's not like the can go and fond it anyway.

I often sit and think of him in the kitchen, so lost in my own thoughts I don't realise the time, only when I come to do I see the clock's seconds flicking over. And then I sit there a little while longer because only in my mind am I able to see him again.

I miss his smile and his passion for guitar and mostly just how he would take people under his wing; me included. I hate looking back on that year, just after it happened I felt so lost, so disconnected with the world. It was to be expected but I miss our dynamic, the way we worked so well together. Even now, I find myself twisting the promise ring he made me around my finger, not noticing how the hours pass.

I don't know why I'm telling you all this…perhaps it's because you're the first person to listen…I've not been able to talk to anyone about this, it feels…good. In a sad kind of way. I miss how Eddie used to stop at mine randomly when he found out I was in town, ice-cream in hand half melted but he wouldn't eat his until we were together. Sometimes he'd buy an extra scoop and try to pass it off as a regular. I just kept my mouth shut though we would smirk at each other. I miss…us. It's not the same anymore.

It's cold. It's dark. It's so damn lonely and as much as I try to reach out, no one hears. I want to hug him, I want to just to feel his warmth and brightness just one more time.

But when my father comes down past midnight and looks my way, his eyes pass through me, he can't see me. When sit at the hideout and watch Eddie play, I can see the pain in his eyes and he searches for me but he won't find me anymore. Sometimes I wish, just for a moment. Just for a selfish moment. I had just ran. Because the pain in the eyes of those who loved me is too much to bear.

#fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson #writing #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #sad fanfiction #x oc

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

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Please write one about making fun of Jack for being jealous over the fact that your baby is getting more cuddles from you. Thank youuuuuuu

Mama’s Boys

“He’s just gorgeous,” Karen coos softly, her finger gently brushing over the sweet baby boys little face as he lays snugs swaddled in your arms. Jack re-enters the living room of his beautifully decorated home with his dad and brother in tow. Kiera stifles a laugh as she leans closer to your side and mutters; “How many Grealish men does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” To which your lips stretch wide across your face with her laughter-lit eyes. Karen leans in too, “Hopefully not as many as it takes to fit a car seat.”

Laughter bounces through you, Jack’s mother and his two younger sisters, only fuelled by the the confused looks from each of the Grealish men. The little boy in your arms barely even stirs.

“We’re ready to go whenever you are.” Kevin announces, clapping his hands together in that very true dad fashion that indicates he’s now wanting to get going. If the way he had been trying to hint at being hungry hadn’t already suggested that. Everyone starts to move around fairly soon after that, with Jack’s mother helping you out to the car. Your two week post baby body hadn’t quite healed up yet and she had been the most amazing help you could ever have imagined. Jack was fantastic, but his mother was experienced in looking after kids and she could come over while Jack was working. He had his last game before his Christmas break just three days ago.

You sat in the back of the car, eagle eyes still too soon after birth to want to be away from your brand new baby boy just yet.

“I can’t believe we got a Christmas baby.” You beam as he helps you out the car, one around around your waist while his other hand held tight around the baby carrier as you walk together through his parents front door. It always made Jack nervous to be carrying it in case he dropped his newborn son despite how man times you reassured him he wouldn’t. “I still can’t believe we have a baby.” He admits, his voice the very sound of disbelief. His heart had been so overwhelmed with joy but his work didn’t slow down to allow him to process it, so he was still pretty much in shock that there was another tiny little human who now relied on you both for everything. “And such a perfect baby,” Jack continues as he sets the carrier with your sleeping son down carefully on the floor, “Just like his mama.” He leans in, pressing his lips softly down onto yours, hands reaching around to pull you into his chest-

“Waaaaa!”

You break apart quickly. Jack sighs in discontent with his eyes falling closed as you crouch to scoop your baby boy up into your arms and walk off into the packed Grealish family living room. Jack groans once your out of earshot. He felt like he hasn’t hugged or kissed you in forever when he had been used to getting your affection and giving you his multiple times throughout the day.

Baby boy Grealish was being fed on demand via what Jack had referred to as the “nippular method” that had you physically wetting your pants a little bit. What he meant of course was breast feeding, but the word had failed to find him at that moment. So it would be safe to say there was very little time for he and you to even be holding much of a conversation between last minute Christmas shopping, wrapping and meeting family even though Jack had assured you a million times that his family wouldn’t mind if you just took a break to relax after literally pushing a child out of you. He just wanted a bloody kiss.

He didn’t blame his baby at all, he loved that little boy more than anything he’d ever known. That’s exactly what Jack had been like. More than the world, more than his life itself. and he wasn’t surprised the bald little thing was a mama’s boy. But that did not mean he wasn’t going to pout about the little man getting more of you than he could. Last Christmas had been a day of hot chocolate sitting by the fire, constantly in his arms. This one he’d barely even touched you. That was bad enough for any man, but for Jack who is so physically affectionate and very tactile, it’s borderline painful.

“Are you alright, love?” Karen asks. Jack turns his head to her slowly, seemingly taken carefully from his trance. He was looking straight at the mantle where a picture of you, Jack and your baby boy was sitting pride of place. It was brand new and he loved it. You had the same one in your living room at home. Jack nods, but his sigh gives him away and leads his mother to sit down next to him. “Just want a bloody hug.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders and trying to hide his face for the embarrassment that creeps up his cheeks. Her mother responds to that with a small coo and attempts to wrap her arms around her son immediately, much fo his protest,

“Oi not from you eh? From (y/n)!” He protests, his mothers snot if laughter immediately meeting his ears. “S’ not funny, mum. Babies stole my fiancé.”

That only serves to make her laugh harder, also eliciting a laugh from his brother who immediately tells his eldest sister who sprints off through the house, taunting in a sing at the top of her lungs. Siblings are never too old to taunt each other like that.

“Jack’s jealous of the baby! Jack’s jealous of the baby!”

“Oi. I’m not!” He calls after her in protest, jumping to his feet just as you appear in the doorway with a cheeky glint in your eyes and a smug grin. He knows he can’t lie to you anyway, so he backs down and you giggle. The little boy wide awake now in your arms coos too, immediately attracting his daddies attention. Jack looks at you, standing there in an England Grealish 7 shirt cradling a baby boy who wears the same outfit. His heart is suddenly so, so warm. He hadn’t really been able to see his son like this, so awake and so alert for having been working so hard before the winter break finally allowed him full home time. He was going to be missing every match of January too to stay home with you guys and he couldn’t be more excited.

“You know,” you hum softly, “It would be nice to have a family cuddle, you know?”

Jack’s cheeks tint an ever so slight red, but he barely waits a moment before he wraps his arms around you and the baby, careful not to squish him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently.

“If it makes you feel any better son,” his dad cuts in with a clap on his back, “Our Christmas gift to you is a spa weekend and a coupon for granny-day-care.” And it very much does make Jack feel a bit better. With time, he’s surer than anything that you’ll work the intimacy and time for each other out. It’s a work in progress, a learn on the job kind of experience and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And really, neither would you for later that evening when you’re back at your beautiful little home and Jack is the one to clamber out of bed in the middle of the night to change and put his baby boy back down to bed, you find yourself listening to him speak to that sweet little boy through the baby monitor he left on. He’s talking about how sweet he is, how much his mummy and daddy love him and how stinky he is right now but daddy wouldn’t change him for the world. And then he trails off his silly baby voice that already makes you want another.

“You’re a mama’s boy though, aren’t you stinky man?” He coos, careful with his hands fastening those tiny little buttons on the front of a blue baby grow. He picks up the two week old and holds him carefully as he always does. “But daddy can’t blame you, bubba. Daddy loves your mama so, so much. It’s something we’ll always have in common eh? We’re both your mama’s boys.”

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #england national team imagine #england national team #jack grealish blurb #footballer fics #football fics

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highqueenofelfhame · 3 years

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rowaelin month day ten

rowaelin month day ten -- single parents. masterlist // buy me a ko-fi // redbubble

The morning truly couldn’t have been going worse. Aelin had woken up to the nanny telling her she’d come down with the stomach flu. Aelin wasn’t cruel enough to tell the poor girl she had to work through it; instead encouraging her to drink as much water as she could and get some much-needed rest. Evangeline had apologized profusely, but Aelin was having none of it. She reassured her that she could figure it out.

It turned out she couldn’t. Her mother and father both worked sixty hours a week. Aelin knew that her mother would take a day if Aelin called, but she couldn’t bring herself to make the call and disrupt her week. Evie’s father had died in a car crash before she was even born. Everyone who was a viable option worked full-time jobs, leaving her three-year-old in her hands. She could call out, but she had a mountain of a workload that she’d left last night, reassuring herself she would get it done today. Everything she needed was at her office, so working from home was out of the question. All signs were pointing to an impromptu “bring your child to work” day.

The CEO of the company was a good friend of hers, and Aelin knew that Dorian wouldn’t mind seeing his goddaughter toddling around the office. In fact, she knew that he would eventually steal her away for a snack time at some point so Aelin could get some work done. It would likely be a snack that wasn’t mommy approved, but she would give him a free pass today.

It would be okay, she reassured herself as she struggled to get Evie to cooperate with getting her tiny arms through her yellow long-sleeved shirt. She was mumbling in an indecipherable language as Aelin nodded along, chiming in here and there like she understood every word. The reality was that she only understood a handful of words. One of them was juice, so Aelin made a mental note to make her a full cup of juice for the car ride to the office to keep her happy.

It didn’t take long to brush her hair into the tiniest pigtails to exist, with two little orange bows holding them in place. By the time she was fully dressed in her fall garb, complete with a tiny gray vest so cute that Aelin wanted to cry, she looked like a baby Gap model. Without a doubt, everyone at the office would be cooing over how precious she looked the second they walked through the door.

“Where going?” Evie inquired, her little head tilting to the side as Aelin packed her go-bag full of snacks and an outfit change just in case.

“Momma’s gotta go to work today, baby. You get to come, too. Do you want to see Uncle Dorian?” At the mention of Dorian, Evie’s eyes lit up as a broad smile pushed her chubby cheeks up until her eyes squinted closed. Aelin grinned and kissed her cheeks until she giggled wildly. Thank the gods that Evie was in a good mood today. Some mornings she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, fussy as all get out while Aelin tried to push along their morning. Thankfully today, she was full of smiles and giggles. It would make everything much easier if she cooperated.

After grabbing a sippy cup full of apple juice and shoving the bottle in her bag, making yet another note to put it in the fridge in the break room when she arrived at the office, she swooped Evie into her arms, and they were on their way.

Upon arriving at the office, Aelin was right. The two receptionists immediately fell in love with Evie’s tiny pigtails and her outfit. They cooed over her bright eyes, twins to Aelin’s own. It took longer than usual to make it to the elevator, where even several men commented on how adorable she was. It brought a smile to her face, but it dropped when she thought of her office neighbor.

Rowan Whitethorn was the hardass of the office. She was pretty positive that he hated her, and there was nothing she could do to change his mind. They spent their days arguing back and forth about anything and everything. Some days she was sure that he only did it to get a rise out of her.

Aelin had never seen him smile-- he only scowled. His assistant was constantly rushing around, losing his damn mind trying to meet all of Rowan’s demands in a day. More than once, she’d caught tidbits of his conversations with Aelin’s own assistant, the poor boy begging to swap just for a single day. Aelin could only imagine what Rowan would say about Evie being such a workplace distraction. She was positive there would be complaints about her squeals and giggles that he would hear through the wall.

There was truly nothing she could do, though. Too much needed to be done at work to take a personal day, and Evie was typically well behaved enough to be occupied until her mom got off work and could pick her up.

As she made her way down the hall, everyone oohed and ahhed over Evie. Aelin thanked everyone for their compliments, her heart spilling over with joy. Until she saw Rowan in the kitchen while she put away the juice. He was making coffee and, upon noticing Evie in her arms, an emotion she couldn’t quite place flickered over his face.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” he said, eyes going from her pigtails down to the boots on her tiny feet.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She closed the fridge door and left the kitchen, gone as quickly as she had come. When she arrived in her office, she shut the door and put Evie down, watching as she ran straight for the couch and flopped over the side with a giggle bubbling out of her lips.

The single mother took a few minutes to take Evie’s toys out of her bag, even laying a few puffy snacks out on the table for her to snack on while she played. She went straight for them as quickly as Aelin sprinkled them out of the container. Aelin chuckled as she watched her for a moment, hands on her hips while she decided she was okay to sit at her desk and begin her work.

Evie was surprisingly self-sufficient while Aelin started her daily tasks. She played with the toys her mother provided and munched on her treats. Aelin heard a lot of babbling and a slew of giggles, a loud squeal pulling her from her work as her door opened.

Dorian leaned in the doorway, giving her a running start until he followed, darting across the room to scoop Evie into his arms. He spun her in circles with her legs flying behind her. She was laughing in a way that she only did with Dorian. Aelin seldom got that sound to come out of her daughter, but somehow, she wouldn’t change it for anything.

“I heard tales of a little princess fighting dragons in my office,” he said to no one in particular, but Evie seemed to understand that she was the princess. If there was anything that she liked in this world, it was being called a princess. She understood that word more than anything because Aelin read her fairy tales of princesses every night. Tangled was constantly on their TV, only to be replaced by Beauty and the Beast. They utterly enchanted her, and everyone in her life was constantly calling her a princess. She loved it.

The giggling continued while he tickled her sides and blew raspberries on her belly until the shrieking got so intense he made a face at Aelin and merely brought her into a tight hug as he said, “Sorry. Nanny out today?”

“She’s got a stomach bug. I had no other options; I’m really sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You know I love any chance I get to see her. I’m not going to penalize you for being a mother, Aelin.” Evie was chomping her teeth near Dorian’s face, causing her best friend to laugh and hold her at arm’s length. “I’ll even take her across the hall for a bit so you can get more done.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she replied, sighing and leaning back in her seat. Aelin really did have so much to do, to the point that she couldn’t even bring herself to tell him he didn’t have to do that. She would take whatever help she could get.

Her door was left open as he took Evie out into the hall, Aelin noticing that they weren’t going in the direction of his office but rather toward the kitchen. Her eyes rolled as she swiveled in her chair to face her computer and really dive into her work, leaning forward and exhaling a deep breath, willing herself to focus.

Quite a bit of time passed, and she was able to get a considerable amount of work completed. All of her emails had been caught up when Dorian edged into her office and cleared his throat. Aelin looked up, half expecting Evie’s outfit to be ruined by chocolate, but her little ray of sunshine was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?”

“I… may have taken a phone call and looked away for two minutes, and she vanished.”

“What?” Aelin was on her feet in an instant, rushing across her office and out into the hall. “What the fuck do you mean? How long has it been?”

“Since I lost her and started looking for her? Half an hour. I was scared to tell you.”

“My daughter has been missing for half an hour, and you’re only just now telling me? What the fuck, Dorian?” She hit his chest rather abrasively as she shoved past him, eyes scanning every room while she ran down the hall. How she was able to do it without toppling over in her heels, she wasn’t sure. All she could feel was the panic from her heart pounding in her chest to the shaking of her hands. The roaring in her ears made everything else sound muffled and distant, like she was standing at the edge of white water rapids. Even with her hands in fists so tight she could feel them shake, nausea building up in her chest.

“Evie?” She called out, a tremor rising in her throat that caused her voice to sound shaky and weak. Tears were pricking in her ears as she turned to run back to her office. She would call down to security to see if they could scan the cameras, and call reception to see if anyone had carried her out. From there, she would--

Her heart stopped beating when she glanced into Rowan’s office. It was the office directly next to hers, and behind his desk, Rowan held a snoozing Evie. Her little fist was gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, and he seemed relaxed while he flipped through papers with one hand.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” Aelin asked, stepping into the door. A few tears of relief slipped down her cheeks, and she was quick to wipe them, lest he make an asshole comment about it.

“I told that little shit to let you know I had her,” he murmured, barely glancing up from his papers. “I think that’s the final straw. He genuinely can’t do the most basic of tasks, I--”

Rowan paused when he looked up from his work. Something soft flashed in his eyes for a split second before he continued, “She was laying on the couch by the kitchen when I found her. She babbled something about Dorian, I think, and when I looked in his office, he was on the phone arguing with someone. You looked busy, and I know you have a lot to do, and when I picked her up, she let out the biggest yawn I’ve ever seen. By the time I’d walked back to my office, she was asleep. I told my assistant to let you know. I’m sorry that he didn’t, and I’m sorry that I didn’t follow up with an e-mail or a phone call. You just seem like you could use the help so you could get work done. I’m sorry.”

Not only was it the most that Rowan had ever said to her in a single conversation, but it was the kindest she’d seen him be to anyone. He wasn’t complaining about the little bit of drool coming out of the side of Evie’s mouth and soaking into his jacket. He was just holding her like he was so at ease with the situation and truly didn’t mind.

“You don’t wear a ring, and I’ve never heard you mention a significant other. Divorced?”

“Widowed,” she replied, sitting in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. Again, his face softened as he looked down at Evie.

“She looks just like you. She’s beautiful.” Ignoring the implications of that comment, Aelin smiled softly.

“Thank you. She is… everything to me.”

“I… I have a daughter, too. Briar. My wife died two years after we were married. Briar is six now, but Evie is… so much less temperamental than B was.” Aelin tried not to let the shock show on her face. Shock that Rowan Whitethorn was a father and shock that they shared a sad history. The curiosity to ask how she had died was strong, but she wouldn’t ask. Sometimes she hated it when people asked how Sam died. It was like opening a wound all over again.

“Oh, she has her days. Don’t let this fool you,” she laughed, dragging her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know you had a daughter, either.”

Rowan flipped his computer screen so she could see it, and she was welcomed by a smiling little girl with stunning green eyes and brown ringlet curls. Her heart squeezed at the image, Rowan holding her in his lap and grinning so wide he had dimples. Rowan Whitethorn had dimples.

“She’s absolutely adorable.”

“She is.” Aelin smiled again, looking down at her hands and twisting the ring on her left finger that her parents had given her when Evie was born. It was her birthstone.

“You can keep working if you want to. I’ve got her.”

“She’s not bothering you?” There was hesitation evident in her voice as Rowan looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He smiled, brushing a few wild strands of hair back against her head.

“Nope,” he said firmly, looking back at Aelin. “Really. You must have a lot to do if you didn’t just call in a personal day. She’s sleeping. It’s okay. I’ll bring her back when she wakes up.”

“I-- okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive.” Aelin chewed on her fingernail for a moment before she nodded and stood, walking across his office and toward her own. Aelin paused in the door, looking over her shoulder at the man with such a harsh reputation around the workplace. This man seemed entirely different, a man that was brushing his thumb against her daughter's side while she slept with his shirt in her tiny fist. He seemed so utterly relaxed while he adjusted their position in his chair to keep working. It was almost out of character, his offer. But she wasn’t going to complain.

Rowan Whitethorn may have been the hardass of the office, but maybe he had a soft spot after all. @rowaelinscourt

#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #tog fic #tog fanfic #fluff #fluffy #rowaelin fluff #single parents au #briar whitethorn #evie galathynius #writing #my writing #masterlist

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blitzturtles · 3 years

Text

Title: Guilt

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (set after Golden Wind, given Jolyne's age.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, JoKa, (Platonic) Jotaro & Jolyne, (Platonic) Kakyoin & Jolyne

Summary: Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

Notes: Involves emergency surgery, chronic pain, preteen!Jolyne, PTSD, disabled Kakyoin, and near death experiences.

Here's the thing: Jolyne hates him. It's not a secret, and it's definitely not something that she bothers to hide from him. Jotaro keeps swearing that she'll come around. Says she's just stubborn (like her father is, Kakyoin sometimes thinks with far too much affection for a man that regularly drives him up the wall). There's also the fact that she's a preteen, and kids are apparently just like that at her age.

Here's the thing: Kakyoin would hate him, too. If he were in her situation. He's petty on a good day, and a right bastard on any other. He can't imagine being in her situation. With divorced parents who, while amicable, are both ridiculously successful and constantly busy. And then waltzed in Kakyoin, right in the middle of it. Though 'waltz' is a bit of a stretch. He doesn't do anything like that with his plated spine and braced legs, but none of that matters. The real point is that he gets it.

He does his best to never push more than he has to. For the most part, he lets Jolyne do her own thing, because she's a Kujo and a Joestar. She's going to do what she wants anyways. His opinion be damned, though he does try to reason with her. Hell, he's given into bribing every once in a while. (Sometimes the means don't matter when father and daughter are both happy at the end of the day.)

In short: Jolyne hates him, and Kakyoin understands.

______

Here's the thing: Jolyne finds Kakyoin to be a nuisance. An interference. One more complication to an already complicated life, and she's only eleven. She wants her parents to get over their bullshit (language!) and figure out how to make things work. She wants Kakyoin to go away, but that doesn't mean she wants him dead. Or injured. Even if she did wish him off the end of a pier that one time. Still.

They've admittedly grown to be more friendly over time. She talks to him now, which is an improvement to the chronic cold shoulder she gave him before. Sometimes she even asks him for help, because her dad can be surprisingly useless when it comes to school work (weren't you in school when I was little?) He always seems happy to help, and he never gets as frustrated as her dad.

So maybe she doesn't hate him, but she definitely wants him to go away.

______

Kakyoin is in the middle of answering one of Jolyne's many questions when he feels something twist violently inside his abdomen. He tastes what he thinks might be bile at rist, but the metallic tinge registers, and,

Oh god, no. Not here. Please not here.

He doesn't need to know-- specifically-- what went wrong to know that he's dying. The moment the pain goes from barely tolerable to utterly agonizing is about when his brain lets him know that he's operating on borrowed time.

Kakyoin could have used that warning approximately five minutes ago. Before the pain. Before he found himself in front of Jolyne.

"I'm sorry," he tries to say, hopes the words come out audible enough for her to understand.

There are tears welling up in her eyes, and they fall soon enough. God, he's made Jolyne cry. She's so young. So unprepared. And she looks so much like Jotaro. With panic stricken eyes and fingers that grasp for something to do. Some way to fix this. It makes his chest ache beyond the twisting and shearing that his insides are already doing.

(She looks exactly like Jotaro, in the hospital after the Foundation managed to retrieve them. The way her hands fumble in the air is so much like how Jotaro had reached out desperately, trying to hold onto Kakyoin, in case those had been his last moments. Like father, like daughter, Kakyoin thinks without humor.)

His knees hit the ground first, and that shoots pain up his legs and along his hips. The rest of it ricochets and dies somewhere midway up his spine. It's a momentary distraction away from the agony that is his middle. He reaches with his fingers to press against his stomach, half expecting them to sink inward (into nothingness. There's nothing. Dio punched a hole right through him, and he's going to die.)

Jolyne is yelling. His name at first, then for her father. Again, he's reminded of the day he died. Maybe it's all been a dream. He's waking up now and the end is pressing down on him. The light will follow soon. He knows; he's seen it before.

"Please!" Jolyne begs him, "I'm sorry!"

He is, too. It's the last thing he thinks before his eyes slide shut and the darkness grabs at him greedily.

______

There's shouting and bright lights and something covering his face. He can't make out anything with his vision so blurry, but he thinks he hears Jotaro's angry voice booming what could be an entire room away.

"If you fucking put a finger on him that isn't necessary to keep him alive. I'll fuck-"

"Dad!"

Jotaro inhales sharply but nods to the surgeon one, final time, "His team is on their way. Not a goddamn finger."

______

The Speedwagon Foundation has several doctors that Kakyoin sees on a semi-regular basis. Each is a specialist in their own right, and they're the only reason Kakyoin ever made it home from Egypt. They're also the only ones that regularly work on updating all the augmented parts and maintaining the damaged remains of Kakyoin's organs. They know him inside and out. Quite literally.

The team makes it to the hospital long before Kakyoin comes out of emergency surgery, which means the whole process is extended significantly. The upside (if it could be called that) is that Kakyoin doesn't have to be put under again. The downside is that it means they'll be waiting awhile.

Jotaro does his best to be strong for Jolyne. It's his job as a parent to keep a calm façade and push his emotions to the side. She needs someone to be her reassurance.

He fails miserably.

______

The head of the Foundation team emerges some hours later, looking a little worse for wear. The stoicism past that does little for Jotaro's nerves. It tells him nothing of what to expect.

"Well?"

"He's stable," the doctor answers. "We had to take out several inches of colon this time. If I had to guess, he probably believed himself to be having a flare. He adjusted to the pain until he became necrotic." His expression shifts into an unpleased frown, "He also has two ulcers. Has he changed his diet? Or experienced any new stressors?"

Jolyne's lip quivered as she processed the doctor's words. She thought over every time she and Kakyoin had fought in recent history. Most of it being her yelling at him.

Jotaro's focus remains fixated on the doctor, "What the hell kind of pain is he still having?"

The doctor-- one Jotaro recognizes from previous visits but can't recall the name of-- sighs, "Kakyoin will only allow us to do so much to help manage his pain. I'm not his specialist in that regard, but it's at his request that he's kept on very little in terms of medication."

Jotaro knows that. He knows that Kakyoin doesn't like what stronger pain meds do to his head, but how out of control is his pain that he didn't notice that he was dying? That his body has been rotting from the inside out for an unknown amount of time?

Jolyne shifts further behind him, drawing his attention to her. It's the only thing that spares the doctor whatever response Jotaro might have otherwise formed. He turns to look at Jolyne and is startled by the tears already trailing down her round cheeks. Realization hits him then.

She's eleven, and he's an idiot.

"Hey, hey. Enough with that. He's going to be okay," Jotaro says quickly. He should have- called her mother or his mother or literally anyone. This isn't a conversation she needed to be privy to.

"It's me," Jolyne chokes the words out. Her thin arms wrap tight around her middle, and she looks close to collapsing on the ground.

Jotaro, admittedly, has no idea what she's talking about, "What's you?"

"The stress!" She practically wails.

Jotaro sighs and moves to wrap his arms around Jolyne. He tugs her in against his chest. "That- that's not the kind of stress the doctor is talking about," he glances over his shoulder to see that the man had already dismissed himself. Smart guy.

"I'm always mean to him!"

Jotaro wants to laugh. Not at all because he thinks her words-- or her suffering-- are funny, but because the whole situation feels unreal. He cards his fingers through her hair instead. It's all the comfort he feels like he can offer in a situation like this. With his own resolve teetering on the edge.

"Takes a lot more than that to take out Noriaki," he's lying through his teeth. The whole new family thing might damn well be enough stress, but he's never going to let Jolyne think this is her fault. It's not. Kakyoin is capable of making his own decisions, and being part of their family is one of them.

Jolyne crumbles against him despite the gentle words, so he scoops her up and holds her against his chest. Even at eleven, she's nothing compared to his size. He finds a nearby seat to settle into and lets her cry while he whispers promises he can't be sure he'll be able to keep. Eventually he tries distracting her with facts about dolphins, and that either has some effect, or she passes out from exhaustion. Either way, he's relieved when she snores against his neck.

______

Kakyoin comes to the waking world in a haze. His head aches and his middle feels a lot like it might have been ripped open again. He hopes that whatever happened had been a little more civil than that.

It doesn't take him long to place himself in the hospital. That's good. He isn't dead, and he's not immediately at risk of falling into enemy hands. The beeping to his left is annoying, and he can't see well enough to make anything out on the monitors around him. His vision tends to be the last thing to recover when he's been knocked out for a while. Still, he turns his head to continue to take in what he can make out.

He stops short when he sees two people in chairs on his right side, closer to the door. The familiar hat catches his attention immediately, not that he needs to be able to see at one hundred percent (or his version of it) to know that the man is none other than Jotaro. His size will always give him away before anything else.

Jotaro's head is bowed in a way that indicates he's likely asleep. He's undoubtedly been here awhile. Jolyne sits beside him with her head pressed against her father's bicep. Star Platinum is out and wrapped around both of them. He lifts his hand from Jotaro a moment to wave at him brightly, which is enough to disturb his user's sleep.

"Mm?" Jotaro grunts. He opens his eyes and sucks in a breath. He takes a moment to compose himself, which is fine. Kakyoin thinks he probably looks worse than he feels, thanks to the drugs. He would make a joke about it, but moving still hurts.

"Good to see you awake. How're you feeling?" Jotaro asks. He doesn't move from his spot, if only to avoid waking up Jolyne, but that intense gaze is evaluating all the same.

Kakyoin gives a noncommittal answer, and Jotaro snorts, "That's what I thought you'd say. Good thing we have this." He reaches for the little controller on the side of Kakyoin's bed. He presses the red button before Kakyoin can protest.

The glare he shoots Jotaro is relatively short-lived, and it's hard to be mad when Jotaro looks so damn triumphant, even if it's about something that Kakyoin has complicated feelings about. He decides to let him have this one, considering the fact that he's pretty sure he gave them all one nightmarish scare.

"I'm sorry," he says after a while, head lulling back against the pillows. His red hair spreads out all around. It's longer now than it ever has been, but he hasn't felt the need to cut it beyond a simple trim in years. It doesn't matter, but it gives himself something to focus on rather than the gnawing guilt.

"Don't be."

"I- god, I never meant-"

"Kakyoin."

"If I had known, I would have left the room or-"

"Kak-"

"She was so afraid. And she-"

"Noriaki," Jotaro snaps more than says the name, but his eyes are soft. "You aren't the only one that made her cry in the last few hours, so you're not special." That's not true. Kakyoin is incredibly special, but he needs to make some kind of light-hearted comment before he starts crying. Nobody needs to see that.

"Still," Kakyoin mumbles, but he doesn't continue.

Jotaro reaches out with Star, who clasps his large hand over one of Kakyoin's. He wants to lean forward himself, but he doesn't want to wake Jolyne up. Not yet.

Kakyoin turns his palm up to tangle his fingers together with Star's. He brushes his thumb over the stand's, knowing Jotaro can feel it reflected on his skin.

"I really thought it was a flare," he says after a while, because he feels like he owes some sort of explanation after everything.

"Nori, I really can't tell you how much I don't give a damn about that," Jotaro frowns at his own words, "No, I mean- I care, but- fuck." He scrubs his hand over his face a few times before trying again, "You don't have to feel guilty for this shit, okay? I should have noticed you were in pain."

Kakyoin shakes his head. He squeezes Star's hand to make sure Jotaro's listening when he speaks, "It's not your fault. I deal with this pain all the time. It just- at first it felt like a flare, but I guess I got used to it." And every time the pain worsened, he acclimated until it had nearly killed him.

Jotaro doesn’t get a chance to respond before Jolyne is rustling against him. She opens her eyes a crack and reaches up to wipe at them with her fists. “Dad?”

“Right here,” Jotaro grunts in response. He squeezes her shoulder gently, then retracts his arm to give her space to stretch out. “Kakyoin is awake.”

He watches the fog clear from her eyes. They widen as she processes his words, and her attention immediately turns to the redhead, who waves meekly at her.

“Jolyne, I’m- oof!”

Star quickly gets his hands around Jolyne’s waist, suspending her in the air enough to keep her weight from falling too heavily onto Kakyoin. He lets her down carefully, and the youngest Kujo looks sheepish for her overreaction.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Kakyoin says, curling an arm around her loosely in return. He hadn’t expected to be nearly tackled upon awakening. That went doubly so when considering Jolyne as a factor. She’s never hugged him before. Trauma is funny in that way; something he knows from first hand experience.

Jotaro steps up behind her and offers a small smile to Kakyoin, “We’re glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah!” Jolyne echoes, “You scared the shit out of us!”

“Jolyne,” Jotaro’s voice is gruff. An attempt at a warning that falls short. The way his lips pull further upward is a dead giveaway that he isn’t particularly upset by her language usage.

“It’s true!”

“Good grief.”

Kakyoin snorts at the father-daughter duo, relieved to see the two smiling again. Already bickering as per usual. There’s too much snark trapped in the Joestar bloodline, and it always amplifies whenever there’s more than one of them in a room. He’d know, having been on the road with Joseph and Jotaro in the past.

Somehow the back and forth settles into Jolyne rambling about dolphins. She regurgitates facts that-- for the most part-- Kakyoin already knows, but he feigns shock and awe at all the right places to keep her spirit up. It’s more healing to watch her babble emphatically than it is lying around in a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. It eases some of the guilt, makes him feel lighter.

Eventually, Jotaro whiskers her out the door. Kakyoin catches sight of Holly, which must mean that Marina is tied up. Holly doesn’t come in, likely at her son’s behest. The woman is a mother through and through, and she can be a bit overwhelming at times. Better to focus all that maternal energy on Jolyne for now.

“You look tired,” Jotaro says when the door clicks shut behind the two. He takes his spot back next to Kakyoin’s bed, pulling his chair as close as he can. His knees grind against the railing of the bed a bit, but the distance allows him to lean forward and get a good look at his partner.

“I could say the same about you,” Kakyoin points out with a raised brow. He still can’t pick up his head for more than a few seconds at a time, and his vision remains fuzzy around the edges; a likely side effect of being drugged to the gills, but he isn’t blind. He can see the bags collecting under Jotaro’s eyes. Exhaustion-- emotional as much as it is physical-- already weighing his shoulders down.

Jotaro snorts an unamused sound, “I’m not the one that just had emergency surgery.”

Kakyoin winces at the reminder. “I’m-”

“If you finish that statement, I’m going to give you a reason to be sorry,” he isn’t. Jotaro won’t hurt him, but the words make Kakyoin close his mouth anyways. For a second.

“Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

Jotaro stares him down for a solid thirty seconds, expecting him to back down. When he doesn’t, the man pushes himself to his feet with an exasperated sigh. “Good grief, c’mere,” his fingers hook under Kakyoin’s chin, and he leans down to press their lips together.

As far as life affirming kisses go, it’s one of Jotaro’s more gentle ones, but Kakyoin feels the thrill of it chasing down his spine anyways.

“I love you,” Kakyoin murmurs as they break apart. He wants to add an apology to the end, but he bites his lip and keeps it to himself for now. He’ll find a way to make it up to Jotaro and Jolyne later.

“Love you, too, Tenmei.”

#jotakak #jotaro kujo #kakyoin noriaki #noriaki kakyoin #jolyne kujo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jbba part 3 #stardust crusaders #blitzwrites #blitz

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thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

Adventure to the Heart Chapter 1: AU

Summary: When the miracle box is discovered by Alya, Marinette's lies to cover it up. But one thing leads to another and now her little lie has turned into a major quest. With Adrien joining their party, there's no backing out now.Who knows? It could be that this quest is just what the two of them needed to get closer than ever...

Hello and welcome to the start of my Adrienette April story - Adventure to the Heart, a fun and light-hearted story with a dungeons and dragons campaign boiling in the background. I won't be getting into deep detail with their characters, but I imagine them playing 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons. Most chapters will generally be pretty short (300 to 800 words) since I was still getting used to my new hours when I wrote most of this and didn't have a lot of time for writing.

In any case, I hope you'll enjoy this short, sweet tale for the month!

First | Previous | Next | Last

@adrinetteapril

Read on Ao3

Marinette was now the Guardian of the miracle box.

It was a thought that would come to her in the middle of the night and cause her to bolt upright, unable to sleep. Paranoia started weighing in on her every thought. She’d be only half paying attention to her friends while they talked at school, wanting nothing more than to run home and make sure that the miracle box was still safely tucked away wherever she’d happened to have hidden it last.

Because she hadn’t decided on the best way to keep it safe just yet. Master Fu had the old timey music thing, but while an old Chinese man might be able to deflect suspicion with a piece like that, she definitely could not. It stuck out like a sore thumb in her room. That was the first change she’d made in its protection, and it didn’t bode well that it wasn’t replaced with anything yet.

She’d been working on another of her trap boxes to hold it, disguised as something that would blend in much better with her room, but for now its hiding spot moved constantly. One day it was in her closet, the next under her bed, then in her crafting supplies. On and on it went, for weeks. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t a good idea. Because odds were that a day would come when someone would happen to arrive when it was between hiding spots.

A day like today.

“Uh… girl, what’s that?”

Marinette’s heart sank when she followed Alya’s eyes to the miracle box, pitifully poking out from underneath a pile of yarn. She opened her mouth to make up some sort of justification, but all that came out was a quiet, high-pitched creaking noise.

“Ohhh, wait. I get it.”

Marinette’s heart leapt out of her chest. Had she really figured it out already?! Her mind raced, trying to figure out when Alya could have possibly seen the miracle box before - at least, when she was in her right mind.

Alya’s hands rested on her shoulders and she looked Marinette in the eye. “That’s a dice box, isn’t it?”

Everything skidded to a halt. “Wuh?”

“A dice box, for Dungeons and Dragons. I figured that sort of game was right up your alley, but I didn’t think you’d try to pick it up on the down-low.” Alya nudged her with her elbow. “Come on, girl! If you had told me, I could’ve had Nino give you a couple pointers. You know how crazy he is for the game.”

“Y-yeah, well uh, I didn’t want to… bother him too much, you know?” Marinette laughed nervously. “And besides, it was supposed to be a big secret.”

“Secret?” Her eyebrows scrunched up. “That’s isn’t like you at all, girl. Well, unless it has something to do with Adrien or…” Brown eyes widened in realization. “...if you’re planning a surprise.”

“R-right, so… don’t say anything to anyone! You don’t want to, um… spoil it.”

Alya winked. “I gotchu, girl. But between the best of gal pals…” Alya leaned in conspiratorially. “...When are you planning on going public? ‘Cuz I could start sending out feelers right now to see who would be down for a Dupain-Cheng original campaign.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it's still in the early stages,” Marinette said, entirely truthfully. After all, she hadn’t so much as given it a single thought or even looked at the core rulebook. It was about as early as a stage could be.

“Still! You’ll want to know the players you’re dealing with - personalities, how many of them.” Alya pulled out her phone and began typing at a frantic pace. “Trust me, I hear about from Nino all the time.”

Marinette craned her neck to peer at Alya’s phone. “Who are you texting?”

“Nino first off. Then he can ask a couple people, and I’ll send out an invite to our girl squad. And then we’ll see who else we can come up with.” Alya grinned at her. “This is going to be a great campaign, I can already feel it!”

“Yeah… great.” Marinette put as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could, while the gears in her head began to turn.

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

Later that night, Marinette was sitting in the living room with her mom and a notebook. If she backed out of this now, then it would look suspicious and Alya might rethink her initial impression of the miracle box. No, if she wanted to keep her secret safe, she’d have to go along with this.

Which meant that she would need a campaign - a story, a setting, a plot. She hadn’t tried her hand at writing before and that inexperience was becoming frustratingly obvious as time passed. Half a dozen ideas had been scrapped within the first half of her mother’s Chinese period dramas.

Instead of spending the next thirty minutes racking her head for ideas, she tossed the notebook to the ground and glared at the television… only to fall into a world of plotting nobles in the imperial palace.

With a smirk spreading across her face, Marinette quickly scooped up her notebook and got to writing.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Alya Cesaire #AdrinetteApril2021 #ml fanfiction #my writing #Adventure to the Heart

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sexbirthdeaths · 3 years

Text

if i had an orchard

ship: morgan x garcia

summary: penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. with each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. and he can’t look away.

warnings: mentions of minor character death (hank morgan, the boy morgan finds in the junkyard), episode 3x09 “penelope”, rotting fruit/maggot imagery, religious imagery, implied murder (boy in junkyard), toxic masculinity

words: 3000

Derek is eight when his dad takes him camping for the first time. It’s the summer of 81, Sarah is entering middle school and Desiree is about to start Kindergarten, so after all of the stress of school applications, Hank proposes they just go out, enjoy the sights of Illinois.

So they go to Buffalo Rock, and he loves it, loves the smell of nature and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He plays soccer with his dad by the campsite whilst Sarah burns through her summer reading list and Desiree cries because she doesn’t like the bugs and she’s too small to play with the boys, and it’s the best summer of his life.

One night, his father pulls a bag of apples from the rucksack, suggests they bake them in some tinfoil over the fire. So while Fran puts Desiree away to bed, Hank sits him down by the campfire and shows him how to pare an apple with a penknife. Slow, using his thumb to stabilise the blade, careful not to cut his finger.

He cuts it straight through the core, hands Derek one of the slices to parcel up carefully in tinfoil. And once those are on the flames, he gives him the knife, another apple from the bag.

“Be careful,” Hank guides him slowly, hand hovering over Dereks’ own, “You don’t want to cut yourself.”

Derek peels it clean and precise, he’s always been a bit of a perfectionist like that. But when he cuts down the core of the apple, and the two pieces fall away in his palm, something is wrong. Very wrong.

His hand retracts in an instant, sends the apple flying, maggots spilling onto the ground into a writhing mass. His stomach is churning, twisting itself in disgust at the sight, and his father stomps it with his boot.

“That one was rotten,” Hank says, pulls the knife from Derek’s hand, “No good. It’s no good.”

Even when the apples are done baking, he can’t stand the sight of them, can’t stomach it after seeing the rotten fruit.

“Tenderness is a sign of rot,” Hank informs him as he eats his slices, “They shouldn’t be soft. That’s how you know they’re bad.”

And he takes that sentiment with him. Even when his father dies, especially when his father dies. He doesn’t cry at the funeral, he starts lashing out at anyone and everyone because to be soft is a sign of rot, of corruption at the core, it makes you undesirable and unwanted and sickening. Keep the toughest rind and you will come out the other side strong.

So he picks fights, even with the kids he knows will beat him. He’s always been a tall kid but Rodney has always been taller, stronger, but to turn the other cheek is a soft man’s path, and Derek Morgan is not soft.

He picks fights and he loses them, comes home battered and bruised and his mother will fuss over him, press a bag of frozen peas to his eye and sing him to sleep. She doesn’t care if he’s too old for it, he’ll always be her son. And even when the pain runs more than skin-deep, crawls through his veins and writhes like a maggot, sickly and decay-drawn, she will cradle his body like he isn’t crumbling from the inside out.

When Derek is 11, it’s the first Thanksgiving since his dad died. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Sarah and Fran work on dinner, and Desiree’s out in the backyard with the neighbour’s kids. His grandparents aren’t coming this year, something about the Chicago winters being cruel on their arthritis.

There’s a faint layer of snow already beginning to settle outside, and he can see the constellations of snowflakes in Desiree’s hair as she finally bids the neighbours farewell and comes tumbling inside, ready to bound up the stairs.

“You promised you’d help me with the apple pie,” Sarah chides as she scoops Desiree up in her arms. The girl laughs loud and gleeful, the first real laugh since the day began, wriggles as she tries to escape her older sister’s grip. Desiree is a big girl now, 6 years old and wide-eyed and too mischievous for her own damn good, and she’s too big now for Sarah to pick her up with ease but she tries anyway.

Derek steps out, takes Desiree from Sarah’s grasp and slings her over his shoulder, grinning at the shrieks he hears.

“Come on, Des,” He laughs, “You promised!”

So, whilst his mom cooks the turkey and the mash and the myriad of thanksgiving side dishes, the three Morgan children converge in the living room, and work on the apples. Sarah peels them and Derek slices them, and Desiree just watches with her big brown eyes and pretends she's helping, because Lord knows no one trusts her with a real knife.

When they’re done there’s a pile of peels in a bowl. Their mom takes it, a sparkle in her eye.

“You know,” she says, grinning and setting down her knife, “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you throw the peel behind your shoulder, it will spell your husband’s name.”

Desiree and Sarah dissolve into giggles. Desiree’s too young to know what true love like that really feels like, too young to be thinking about marriage and life as an adult. And Sarah’s approaching it closer and closer with each passing day, she’s had her heart broken by careless boys to want nothing but a guarantee that the next boy will be the one.

So they take the peels and throw them. Desiree’s looks sort of like an L from the right angle, and Sarah’s is an A, if you use a bit of imagination, and Derek doesn’t get anything because he refuses to try it.

“That’s for girls,” he scoffs, puffs his chest up like a proud robin all red and strong.

“You’re impossible,” Is the response he gets.

When he is 15 he finds a boy’s body in the junkyard. All battered and bruised and broken and he wishes he could press a bag of frozen peas to his head like his mother had done, tell this boy it would all be okay. But it won’t be okay, and the case is never solved because the police don’t seem to care for kids like Derek or the boy, seem for focused on pinning things on them than catching their killers.

When he sees the policeman shake the community centre owner’s hand, Derek knows his killer will not be caught.

He goes door to door and pools up enough money to buy a headstone, and he visits it whenever he can, touches the cool rock and feels himself break. And he doesn’t know this boy, know his face or his name, but they feel connected. Through space and time and tragedy, maybe in another life they were friends. Maybe in another life it was him, and he would be the one rotting in the ground.

Move forward a few years and he feels like something inside of him is broken. Like he’s been torn apart and stitched back together again but something went wrong in the process. He feels moldy, he thinks one day as he’s filling out college applications, disgusting. If he could he’d rip all his skin off and scrub himself spotless. But this runs deeper than skin.

He gets the football scholarship, and his mother cries when he reads the letter because her baby is going to Northwestern and he’s gonna be something great, bigger than himself, he’s gonna change the world. And the success feels like the pinprick in the lid for him, like he can finally breathe as there’s a chance for him to go. Leave those rotten parts of him behind.

After college and the Chicago department, he finds himself starting in the BAU. The team is pretty small - Hotch is a hard-ass and Gideon is, well, Gideon, and the liaison stays in her office too much for Derek to really know who she is, but the BAU feels right for him. Gideon’s got some kid on his radar and so does Hotch, but they’re both so frustratingly secretive that he has no clue who they could be.

He fits right in like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for so long, takes on a role as the ladies’ man and the handsome coworker who flirts with you over coffee, but also the guy who’ll sit with child victims for hours to make sure they’re alright. Hotch hasn’t booted him yet so he figures he’s doing something right.

And then he meets her.

Penelope Garcia, she introduces herself as, and she’s so unlike any girl he’s ever met before with her long, dark hair and she acts like she’s the smartest person in the room (and after a few hours interrogating her, he figures that sentiment isn’t too far off). She’s got these big curious eyes and glittery pink acrylics and he can see the person that sits behind the dark facade.

They don’t hit it off, at first, because he’s proud and she’s defensive and he has a job to complete, but then Hotch informs him of the deal that’s been made, so he better start trying to get along with her. She gets along great with JJ, they eat lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ and JJ’s finally starting to open up a bit more, actually talks to Derek at the coffee machine in the mornings and asks how he’s been. Before, she’d talk to him, or Hotch, or Gideon even, with strained words and avoiding eye contact.

The first time he calls her babygirl is the first time he sees her properly flustered, cheeks red and stammering as she types away at her keyboard and Hotch gives him the mother of all death glares because they’re trying to run an FBI investigation here, Derek. But it makes him smile, seeing her all blushed pink, and he decides he likes it.

She pretends she doesn’t struggle sometimes, and he sees it. The mass of figurines and posters in her office are just a distraction technique - he’s well versed in those - and he knows just how taxing it must be for her, seeing all those awful things. She loves and she loves like it’s the only thing she knows how to do, full-bodied and all in, and some days he wonders if she’s really capable of hatred at all.

“How can you do it? How do you deal with it all?�� She asks one day over coffee, voice small and sad. She’s seen some awful things over the past few days, and he wraps her up tightly in her arms. The worst thing is - he doesn’t know what to say. For as long as he can remember, he’s just been pushing it away and ignoring it. Letting it sit inside him and simmer, rip him from the inside out and just pray he’ll be able to pick up the pieces once he finally falls apart.

Things shift, change, over the years as people come and go. There’s a new kid, one Gideon’s been raving about for months who’s finally gotten all the necessary qualifications, even if some exams had to be waived. And he gets hurt, gets hurt bad, and Derek wonder’s if that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because it isn’t long before Gideon leaves. There’s a new man in his place and they’re still trying to trust him, but he just isn’t Gideon, he isn’t the mentor and the peacekeeper and the caretaker that they’ve all grown to need.

Penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. With each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. And he can’t look away.

She has a date. She has a date and he doesn’t know why there’s this ache in his chest, like something’s been scraped out from him and left him hollow. But it’s her choice, he figures, he doesn’t own her. And then he gets the phone call.

Shot, he hears Hotch say over the phone, voice crackled and rough, and it’s like everything in him shuts down. Like someone’s ripping him apart limb by limb. That motherfucker. He will not know kindness from me. Do you need me? He asks, but Hotch just sighs.

She needs you.

And he’s driving to the hospital but he’s so pissed he can barely even focus, consumed by the rage bubbling within him, he wants to find that son of a bitch and make him feel a thousand times what Penelope felt. His skin is itching like thousands of maggots are crawling across him, it’s so overwhelming.

He feels rotten, like he’s so full of pain he can barely breathe, and his cheeks are wet and he doesn’t know why they are until he reaches up to touch them, realises he’s crying.

Men like Morgan do not cry. It’s a sign of weakness, he thinks, and you cannot afford to be weak. Not here, not now, you have never been safe enough to be weak. You bottle it up and ignore it, because to be soft is to be rotten.

He flashes his badge to the hospital receptionist and she informs him with pitying eyes that Penelope is in emergency surgery, that he can wait until she’s out and hear the verdict. So he collapses into the waiting room chairs, unable to look at the others, waits for Penelope to be okay.

Waiting lasts a century. All he wants is to take her in his arms and let her know she’s going to be okay, but he can’t. He can’t even guarantee that it will all be fine, because from what he’s heard it’s a bad wound from a good shot and it’s not looking good.

See, Penelope is an apple tree. She gives and she gives and she asks for nothing in return but a spot in the sun and a love her body has been starved of for years. And all Derek wants is to drown in blossom petals and cider, to drown himself in her warmth. All she asks for is to be loved, and that bastard didn’t even try. Derek will try, he will try and he will pray to a God he does not even believe in (Goddamnit he’s trying, he’s trying) if it means he can love her, if it means that she will be there to receive his love.

When the surgeon comes back, gives them the news, everything in him relaxes. Like the tightly-wound coil of a music box as the lever is finally released. She’s okay, she will be okay, no one must die today.

Her makeup is gone, hair a knotted mass, she’s traded out the bright clothes and heavy jewellry for a hospital gown. And she’s as breathtaking as ever, and Morgan can’t look away. He wants to reach out and hold her hand, press his forehead against hers, let her know that he’s here and everything is going to be okay, tell her how glad he is that she’s alive.

“You really love her, huh?” JJ asks with a smile, looks up at Morgan with a piercing, knowing gaze once they file out of the room, split up the group. She’s cradling a to-go coffee cup in her hands and disshevelled - she’d been the first one at the hospital, been in charge of letting everyone else know.

It’s JJ that knows Penelope the best, if not Derek. She knows the ins-and-outs of their relationship, she can see what they’re too scared to say to eachother. Love, he thinks, this is what this is.

“I do.” He nods.

“So tell her- show her, god knows she needs you right now.”

He waits until the others have left Penelope’s hospital room. The thing is - he flirts with her all the time, has himself branded as a ladies man, but it’s been so long since he’s had something real. He’s always been too afraid to show that tender side that a relationship requires.

But he’s tired of holding back. Penelope softens him, turns all his harsh edges hazy, makes his heart wrench in his chest. He has forgotten what it means to be rotten.

So he sits himself at the edge of her bed, doesn’t care if any of the others can see him through the window, all that matters is here and now.

“I almost lost you,” he says, voice soft, “I was so scared- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you’d gone besides tear the bastard apart.”

He scoots closer, chair handle digging into him as he leans into her. His hand cups her face, feels her warm skin against his cool palm, heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. She’s alive, good god, and she’s here with him, and maybe everything will be okay.

His forehead presses against Penelope’s own and she seems to welcome the movement, twists a handful of his shirt in her grip like she can’t bear the thought of ever letting him go. Derek has never wanted to be loved more than right now, loved by her.

He’d bite the apple for her, Derek thinks, swallow it down seeds and all. Because he loved her, he didn’t care if the fruit was rotten or wretched, damnation was a gift if he was condemned alongside her. He’d run to the edges of the world where all that could reach them was the moon and the stars, and he’d tell Penelope how he hung them just for her.

Kissing her feels like breaking the water’s surface. Being reborn, baptised under her hands, and for what feels like the first time, he can breathe.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds fic #derek morgan fic #penelope garcia fic #derek morgan x penelope garcia #penelope garcia x derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jason gideon #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #criminal minds fanfiction #userpenemily

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cuddles-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

My Face, Your Boxers

Bucky X Reader

Authors Notes: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club and thank you so much for allowing me to combine these two amazing prompts together!!! Hope I did it justice!

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, pranks, language, sexual tension, talks of sex, implied smut.

Words 2,372

Prompts:

Y/N and Bucky have never got along and are always bickering. One day, he decides to prank her by changing all of her lace underwear to briefs with his face all over them.

Bucky has a date tonight and reader changes all of his boxers to “Pardon My Hardon” boxers.

The boxers:

“You’re putting way too much milk on your cereal, doll.” Bucky elbowed you, almost knocking you off the stool and spilling the milk everywhere.

“Fuck off and mind your own business.” You gritted through your teeth, wanting to knock that smug grin off his stupid face.

“Ah, young love.” Sam teased as he walked casually into the kitchen that was thick with sexual tension, no thanks to you and Barnes. You shot him a glare, pouring your milk carelessly over your cereal.

“Y/N seriously, fucking leave some milk for the rest of us!” Bucky warned, reaching over and snatching the bottle from your hand.

“Stop being up my ass all the damn time Barnes.” You said, scooping some cereal up on a spoon and shoveling it into your mouth. “If you want me to fuck you up the ass doll, all you gotta do is ask.”

“I’m out!” Sam announced, grabbing an orange and leaving quickly, leaving just you and Bucky alone in the kitchen which was always a very bad idea since you didn’t get along with the man.

You’re not really sure why, ever since he came to the compound, he acted cold and distant with you despite your warm welcoming and months later, he became the biggest dick.

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth.” You argued, loved pushing his squishy buttons. Despite him being an enormous asshole, he was so easy to piss off and you loved it.

“Hypothetical question, why?” Bucky pressed, taking a seat next to you and watched in amusement as you kept on shoveling the cereal in your mouth.

“Well first of all; you’re always sweaty and disgusting and I imagine you grunt a fucking lot. And secondly; I repeat my first point. Thirdly; I’m best friends with my vibrator that always lets me cum first. Something I don’t see you doing.”

“Aww, you jealous doll ‘cause you don’t have a man to know, lick you and fuck you into the mattress?” Bucky smirked, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“Jealous? HA. I actually feel quite sorry for any poor woman underneath you as you drip your disgusting sweat on her face. I’m GRATEFUL for that. Besides, wouldn’t want your dentures to fall out as you sucked the life out of me, plus, I’m a really nice person, now please, fuck off and have a great day.”

“Whatever you say, doll.” Bucky chuckled, drawing the pet name out since he knew how much it annoyed you. He was getting up to leave and missed the spoon being launched at his head by seconds.

“Sergeant Barnes?” The AI beeped as Bucky walked into the common room.

“What is it, FRIDAY?” Bucky asked, looking up in the air.

“A parcel has arrived and Mr Stark has left it in your room, sir.”

Bucky laughed knowing exactly what the parcel was, and it was all planned perfectly since you would be out of the compound most of today.

Bucky hurried back to his room and unpacked the parcel that was sitting on his bed, he cut the tape and laughed maniacally as he pulled the new custom ordered underwear out of the box. He spent hundreds of dollars on this and it had to go right.

He put a few hundred into a separate bag and hid the box in his closet in case someone decided to barge in like they normally did. Bucky exited his bedroom, walking down to the other end of the hall where your room was, just as he was about to go in, you came out.

“What?” You asked confused, putting your keys and phone in your pocket.

“I was- I thought you were out?” Bucky stammered, subtly moving the bag of underwear behind his back so you couldn’t get a peek.

“God, what are you, my husband? If you really must know, I’m just leaving so leave your testicles in your pants and stay out of my room. I remember what you did last time and I don’t want another cleaning bill.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky saluted. He was amused you didn’t even wonder why he was outside your door, or maybe you did and just didn’t care since Bucky always did go out of his way to annoy the fuck of you. Him being there was nothing to you.

While Bucky sneaked into your room, you had your own secret meeting with a friend in Brooklyn. You knew Bucky had a date tonight, because he’s talked about it non stop since last week and since he embarrassed you on your last date, you figured a little paycheck was overdue. Your friend had ordered you over 300 pairs of boxers. Boxers you were planning to plant in Bucky’s dresser so his date could freak the hell out.

You were an observant person, and his sweatpants never hid anything that great. The man constantly walked around with a boner, it was so obvious so these boxers were true, but you know, they would excuse it for him when his date sees him. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

Bucky pulled all your lace panties out and threw him carelessly onto your bed, including your bras. He unpacked the new briefs and folded them neatly into the top two drawers of your dresser, snickering as he saw the print on them. It was probably quite a childish prank, but he was sure you’d get a kick out of it.

Once Bucky was done, he put your laced panties in the bag he brought with him and left your room undisturbed and went back to his to hide the panties and meet Steve at the bar for a few beers.

You actually passed Bucky in the lobby, just as he stepped out, you were about to step in. He noticed a box in your hands, around the same size as the one he had delivered and snickered. How ironic would it be if you pranked with him the same underwear.

“Whatcha got there dollface?” Bucky purred, adjusting his leather jacket. You couldn’t deny he looked smoking hot in his black outfit. “More dildos?” He teased.

You snickered and stepped into the elevator. “Why? Jealous they might be bigger than you Barnes?” You cackled, pressing the button to your.

“STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!” You heard him yell just as the doors closed.

If anyone was to blame for this prank, it would be Bucky for leaving his damn door unlocked and making it too easy. You had no problem breaking into his room and removing his tattered and worn boxers, some with holes where the wiener would be, why he had a fucking hole there was anyone’s guess, you’d like to think it was because he probably rubbed one out every time he was alone in this room.

You replaced his ragged old boxers with some lovely new ones. They were red with a black waistband. The imprint on the front where his bulge would be read “Pardon My Hardon.” To now, you cackled like crazy every time you read it. You could imagine the look on his face, and also his date’s face.

Apparently, he was hoping to get lucky tonight. With these boxers, that’s not gonna happen. This was their first date after all. Once you hid his old boxers under the bed, you proceeded with the second part of your plan to make sure he would wear these and not notice them; remove all lightbulbs from his room. You paid Tony in good faith to cut the electricity for tonight when Bucky would be in his room changing anyway, but to be sure Tony didn’t follow through on his promise for some reason, you needed to remove the lights just in case.

You clapped your hands when you got the last light bulb out, also throwing them under his bed and left his room undisturbed.

Now you just had to wait.

***

Bucky returned back to the compound around 8 p.m and already it was dark outside. The heavy rain clouds that lingered over NYC ended daylight quicker than expected. To make matters worse, the storm had cut electricity out in the compound. Candles were lit everywhere, except for Bucky’s room since he just needed a quick wash and change of clothes. His eyes had never let him down before and he knew his room like the back of his hand.

He closed the curtains in his room and walked into the bathroom, washing his face and hands and patting himself dry with a towel he felt around for.

Bucky could hear the distinctive chatter from his teammates down the hall as they sat in the common room talking about the storm. Thunder and lightning came suddenly and the rain pelted against the floor-to-window panes. This storm came suspiciously quickly. Considering he was aware Thor was in town.

But these thoughts never really crossed his mind and he didn’t piece it together. He was thinking about Dot and his date tonight. He whipped his black jeans off along with his boxers, opening the drawer, he felt around for a pair and grabbed them.

His fingertips traced along the waistband until he felt the silk label and slipped into them. They felt a little tighter than usual, but Bucky had been working on beefing up again.

Bucky reached into his closet and pulled a clean pair of jeans off the hanger and slipped them on. He next removed his shirt and picked a button up off the hanger on the other side of the closet. When he was dressed and happy, he sprayed some cologne around his throat and neck, picked up his leather jacket off the bed and left his room.

He walked a little down the hall when your door suddenly ripped open, scaring the shit out of him. He stumbled and put his hand over his heart.

“Did you seriously fucking change my underwear to your stupid face?!” You gritted through your teeth.

“I did.” He shrugged, smirking as he now leaned against the doorframe. “Now you will always have me between your legs, doll.” Bucky teased, licking his dry lips.

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You’d never tell him, but you actually really liked the briefs. They were exceptionally comfortable and you find them funny. You couldn’t imagine the look on a man’s face though as he peeled them off you.

“You have a date tonight right?” You questioned, the candlelight behind you just about makes out his features.

“I do, so no need to wait up. I’ll leave some earplugs in the common room so we don’t keep you awake.”

You laughed, there was no way he was getting any tonight with those boxers he was most likely wearing.

“Enjoy the *squeak, squeak, squeak*” You teased, imitating his squeaky mattress that you heard often.

“Enjoy your vibrators that you had delivered today.” He retorted. You snorted and retreated back into your room, slamming the door unintentionally in his face.

***

You didn’t know what time it was when you fell asleep. Once Bucky had left earlier, you found Tony and Thor and thanked them with a hug each for their part in your plan. Let’s face it, without them, this wouldn’t have worked. But it seemed you were right and Bucky really was that naive.

You’re not sure what woke you up either, you thought you heard a knock on your door but it must have been in your dream. You rolled onto your back and stretched, putting your arm under your pillow, you just started to doze off again when the knock came louder this time.

You glared towards the door, rolling over to flick a lamp on and dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed towards it. You opened the door and on the other side stood a rather tired and unamused Bucky Barnes.

“Barnes? Are you lost, you’re room is down the hall on-”

“What the fuck did you do to my boxers?” He seethed, his jaw and fists clenched. You rubbed your eyes and chuckled, angering Bucky more.

“Oh, you saw them.” Is all you said, his eyes flickering down to his custom briefs. He couldn’t help but become aroused when he saw a slight wet spot and your nipples tenting underneath your tank top.

“No, Dot saw them and she was fucking horrified!”

“Poor Dot. You know, they are really funny and I’m sorry but if she couldn’t take the joke then maybe she isn’t the one for you.” You stated, folding your arms across your chest and resting them under your breasts, the swells of your breasts now threatening to spill out.

Bucky said nothing as he took a step towards you. You remained still in your place, his breath fanned over your face.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe then I don’t want another man between your legs, on briefs or otherwise.” Bucky sighed. Your arms dropped down by your side and Bucky took the opportunity to reach out and take on, guiding it to his hard bulge. Your hand squeezed him and he moaned quietly.

“If you want this, if you really want me, then I suggest you get in here and get your face between my legs for real.”

“If I knew planting briefs with my face on them would make me fuck you, I’d have done it months ago.” Bucky chuckled, his hands on your waist as he walked you backwards. He kicked the door closed with his foot, guiding you two back towards the bed until your knees hit the side of the mattress. Bucky kneeled on the floor before you, his fingers hovering on the waistband of the briefs.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, needing to hear you say it. “I know we hate each-”

“I don’t hate you. And I’m sure. Please…”

“Good, me neither. Once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop.” That’s all Bucky needed to hear. Once those words left your lips, your briefs were ripped from your body and your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. His tongue diving in between your seeping folds.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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elphabashepard · 3 years

Text

Another Lin-in-Zaofu thought...

I’m hoping to get around to writing it out properly one day but I need to chuck some thoughts down here for now, while they’re there.

I can’t help wondering about the conversation that had to take place between Su & the kids when Lin passed out. Whether Opal asked her Mom exactly how hard she’d been hitting Lin (pretty damn hard, some of the hits Su lands still make me wince) & Su protesting (of course) that it hadn’t been that hard. Then Korra piping up that she’d seen Lin earlier & she hadn’t looked good then.

Then maybe Mako (who must have heard all the noise & come looking by now) would step in, saying they can figure it out later, for now they needed to get her off the floor & onto a bed so she could rest properly. So Korra lifts her, since she’s already holding her shoulders & Mako scoops up Lin’s legs until Su bends a metal sheet underneath her (hopefully looking at the very least worried, maybe a bit guilty?) with handles that Korra & Mako can hold to carry her back.

I think Bolin would hover, making sure she was secure, because as scary as Lin is, he’s still in awe of her & the site of her unconscious is making him worry.

& as they make their way back through the courtyard to Lin’s room, Aiwei sees them & comes over to ask what happened. After Korra explains, Aiwei looks troubled & explains he sent her to the acupuncturist.

Su says it makes sense now because after treatment, you’re not meant to overexhert yourself. Korra might snort at how typical of Lin it was to ignore that advice, but also frowns & asks why Aiwei recommended acupuncture.

Aiwei explains the stress he could sense in her body & how she’d flinched each time she moved too quickly & Korra maybe begins to feel guilty about pushing Lin so hard the day before.

They take her to her room & as gently as they can transfer her to the bed, Su bending off her metal boots, then Korra performing a task she’d literally never expected to do: tucking Lin Beifong under the sheets (which was surreal but Korra feels totally necessary since Lin looks so vulnerable like that) while Mako fetches her a glass of water for the bedside table.

Korra volunteers to stay with her, in case something happens, because she’s feeling guiltier by the moment at how pale Lin looks but Su insists Lin just needs to rest & says that if she’s not awake by tomorrow evening, she’ll check on her. Korra wants to protest that probably isn’t a good idea, since Su’s the one Lin’s mad at, but decides she won’t wait that long anyway. If Lin’s not awake by midday tomorrow, she’ll check on her herself (with Mako & Bolin as back up, because well, Lin was still Lin).

I wonder if Su did go & have a word with the acupuncturist, just to see if he could give them any more insight & he tells her that Lin seemed to be reliving certain memories, though he couldn’t tell what they were about. Su has a good idea though. There’s a big part of her that’s frustrated that Lin took so long to finally talk about all of this but there’s also a part that’s glad they’ve cleared the air just a bit.

I think dinner that night would have been a quiet thing, with a lot of minds wondering more about Lin than their food. I hope Korra remembers that crack Su maybe about Tenzin & squirms because while Korra was happy to tease Tenzin about the whole situation between him, Lin & Pema, she’d always somehow understood never to mention it to Lin & now it occurs to Korra that it was a bit of a cheap shot.

I also think this is probably when Su finally has that conversation with Mako about Lin being an excellent Police Chief & I can well believe Mako was happy to finally spill the positive things Lin’s done, not just for him, but for the Force & the city. All the things he’s learned from her, how fairly she’s always dealt with him & everyone else. How she’d been the one to point out he’d make a good officer after everything he’d done first tracking Korra down & then fighting Amon. I agree with plenty of others on here that all that Lin bashing earlier in the day would have made him uncomfortable & even a bit angry, but didn’t feel it was his place to contradict Su in her own house.

And all of this maybe makes Su uncomfortable because she’d never imagined anyone seeing Lin that way, because her memories of Lin are all from being a teenager & only seeing things through her own (understandably selfish) perspective, & then Korra had validated that impression. But now she realises that Lin is just as much a complex human being as everyone else & she can’t keep shoving her into the same stereotype she did when they were younger.

I hope that when Lin wakes up, after pushing through the embarrassment of passing out in front of so many people, she feels cared for in a way she hasn’t since she was little, warm from being tucked in & refreshed from the water she definitely needed. & somehow knowing it had been the kids to do those things.

I also wonder if it’s as she’s getting dressed & has to choose between the Zaofu robes that had been left in her room for her as a “gift” from Su, or her police uniform, that she makes a decision to accept she’s got to bend a little, that it’s the only way anything will change, that she doesn’t want to keep holding on to this grudge & making herself lonely just for the sake of it. She wants to apologise to Opal, because she hadn’t deserved Lin’s anger & she wants to talk to Su without feeling constantly angry. So she chooses the robes, knowing Su will notice & hopefully take it as the sign of peace Lin will still find impossible to say out loud.

And finally - I know a lot of people have theories about her behaviour when she opens up the door after Mako knocks, all of which make far more sense than this - but part of me believes than Lin swans out of that room, flashing a smile & a cheerful “Good morning” just purely to mess with them. (The side effect of making them speechless also meaning she doesn’t have to answer any questions, which she’d really rather avoid.)

#lin beifong #e.s. personal #legend of korra #lok #I still can’t watch the Zaofu episodes in their entirety without flinching/hiding behind a hand/smacking my own forehead #& I know I’ve said it about other things but bringing up Tenzin? That was seriously low Su #especially as if I’m adding it up right Su wasn’t even around to see what happened so was just tugging at a random thread #hoping for a reaction #well - congratulations! you got one #it was just more than Su was expecting #because she couldn’t know how that break up affected Lin if she wasn’t there #but Lin’s behaviour in early S1 & ripping up Air Temple Island all tell us it’s was Pretty Fucking Bad

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cajunquandary · 3 years

Text

Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay.

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas.

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay.

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands.

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute.

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices.

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I’m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality.

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away.

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her.

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs.

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?”

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette.

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat.

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms.

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean.

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather.

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought.

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving.

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul.

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed.

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register.

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food.

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger.

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it.

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!”

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view.

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day.

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her.

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature.

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had.

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her.

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm.

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead.

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him.

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently.

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters.

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss.

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times.

Until this one.

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare.

Until this one.

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain.

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them.

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?”

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red.

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke.

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go.

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response.

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area.

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands.

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow.

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly.

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation.

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.”

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits.

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers.

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly.

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip.

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone.

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her.

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail.

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her.

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek.

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach.

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp.

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her.

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth.

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth.

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down.

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home.

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #hands that heal #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x ofc #dean x jay #fluff #smut #supernatural

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kit-kat21 · 3 years

Video

“IF”

…

“And now, the assignment,” Mrs. Hother said, returning to her desk among a chorus of groans and boos from the students sitting at their desks. She turned back around, facing them with a wide smile. “Oh, stop. This one will be fun. I promise.”

Jon Snow, sitting in the third row, fourth chair back, doubted that. Mrs. Hother was an enthusiastic teacher, he’d give her that, and she wanted all of her students to love what she clearly loved. But the problem was Mrs. Hother taught 11th grade poetry – a requirement for every student in their high school to take and very, very few kids actually liked 11th grade poetry.

“Now, everyone is going to pick a partner and from this list-” the woman held up a stack of papers in her hand. “You are going to recite it – from memory – in front of the class this Friday.”

This was only met with louder groans and boos. Jon didn’t join in with the noise but he whole-heartedly agreed with his classmates. Reciting a poem in front of the class from memory? That was considered fun?

The Old Gods help him. He hated speaking in front of classes. He had gone to school with all of these people since first grade and he knew just about all of them but for whatever reason, he got up in front of them and forgot every word he had ever known. Last year, he had to give a short presentation on phobias and just showed a five-minute clip from the movie Arachnophobia to get him through it.

“Now, stop your overdramatic reactions,” Mrs. Hother said as she sent to the first chair in each row to hand them the papers so they could be passed out. “This is going to help with vocabulary and figurative language. These both are considered important things to be somewhat competent at out in the real world.”

Jon took the papers and taking one for himself, he passed the last one to the kid sitting behind him. He held the list up, studying it carefully. He recognized a few. He didn’t know them but he recognized them. Robert Frost. Edgar Allan Poe. Emily Dickson. And Shakespeare. Those were all the obvious one. The rest of them, Jon had no idea what they were; how long or how difficult it would be to memorize.

“Now, you pick your partner, you and your partner choose from this list which one you want and you have until Friday to work on it,” Mrs. Hother said with a smile; as if this was the best thing she had ever said. “Now, some of these poems, as you will find are quite long so if a poem has four or more stanzas, you and your partner will only be expected to memorize the first two. Once you pick, come up to see me and I have them on easy printouts for you to work off of.”

Jon immediately looked to one of his best mates, Grenn, who was in this same second-period class. Grenn sat two rows away and was talking with Alys Mors, who sat next to him. When Grenn caught Jon looking at him, he pointed to Alys, and though he wanted to frown and sigh, Jon, instead gave a short nod.

Damn it, Grenn, Jon grumbled silently to himself. It didn’t matter if Grenn had had a crush on Alys Mors forever. Jon needed him more than Alys Mors. But again, he said all of this silently.

With a sigh, Jon looked around at his other classmates, all teaming up together. He then looked to his left; to the seat next to his in the last row against the window.

Sansa Stark was new that year, having moved to Last Hearth and almost immediately caused a stir because she was beautiful and also seemed nice – kind of a rarity when it came to the beautiful girls in high school; at least in Jon’s opinion. He assumed, the first time he saw her on the first day of school, that the popular crowd would snatch her up for themselves immediately. And maybe they had tried but Sansa Stark made it obvious to everyone within the first week that while being so nice to everyone, she also didn’t seem to be interested in making friends.

It wasn’t like he was always watching her but he noticed that she was on her phone often throughout the day, in between classes, and as soon as the final bell rang, she was practically running from the school. He just figured it was something to do with her family or maybe she had an after-school job to get to.

Sansa was looking at the list but feeling eyes on her, she turned her head to Jon. She gave him a small smile and Jon returned it.

“Partners?” He suggested.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Do you have a preference?”

“Something short and easy.”

Sansa laughed at that. “I know most of these. Mrs. Hother did not give us any of those.”

“Of course she didn’t,” he frowned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She laughed again and Jon noted how light and soft it was. “We can do “IF” by Rudyard Kipling. It’s a good one. It’s long so we just have the first two stanzas to worry about. Unless… do you want to do another one?”

“No,” Jon shook his head quickly. “That sounds like a good one,” he said as if he had any idea what the Hell any of these poems were. And Sansa smiled at him; as if she could read his mind. He smiled a little, too. “Do you want to meet after school and start working on it?”

“I have to go home right after school,” Sansa said and she began to shake her head. “I… I know we do have to work on it though. If you’d want to, you could come over.” She said those words but he could tell that she was unsure about saying them; as if she wasn’t entirely sure that she should be saying them.

“That sounds good,” Jon agreed before he over-analyzed her behavior. “My mom has a divorced women’s support group meeting at our house this evening and except for the good delivery they always get, it’s best to stay away from it. The women have told me they all love me but I’m also a guy so they hate me at the same time, too.”

Sansa smiled and let out a laugh.

Seven Hells this girl was beautiful. He wondered why she didn’t have any friends; or rather, why she didn’t want any. He wondered what she was always looking at on her phone. He wondered where she was always rushing off to every afternoon. He wondered about her.

Maybe Grenn wanting to be partners with Alys Mors wasn’t the worst thing. Now, he was partners with Sansa Stark and no offense to Grenn, but this seemed much better.

“Meet you on the front steps after final bell?” Jon quickly suggested before he could say something really stupid – like telling her how beautiful she was.

Sansa paused for only a moment before she gave a single nod. “Meet you there.”

…

Jon had a car and he drove them to Sansa’s house, he following Sansa’s directions. Her messenger bag was in her lap and he saw the way her fingers curled around the sides of it, her grip growing tighter; as if she was growing more and more nervous for some reason.

“I looked up this poem during lunch,” Jon broke the silence between them. “Thank God we only have to do the first two stanzas.”

Sansa’s lips twitched at that and she turned her head to look at him. “Did you like it?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I was more distracted with wondering how I’m going to memorize at least one of these stanzas.”

Sansa didn’t comment on that but she still smiled faintly and looked back out the windshield. “I live with my uncle and aunt,” she said rather suddenly. “My Uncle Benjen and his wife, my Aunt Willa. I…” she took a deep breath and looked at him, Jon glancing at her before back to the road but he let her know that he as definitely listening. “My mom and dad and siblings live in Winterfell. But it was decided that it would be best if I moved up here to live with my aunt and uncle.”

That gave Jon a Hell of a lot more questions but he realized that he was probably the only person at Last Hearth High School to know that about her. Maybe this meant that she would tell him more. He hoped so. Sansa was nice and beautiful and he wanted to know a lot more.

“It’s right up here,” Sansa said, pointing ahead.

It was a gray ranch house with a bright yellow door and white wicker outdoor furniture on the front porch. Jon pulled into the driveway but parked near the end in case someone needed to get in or out of the garage. Sansa looked downright pale now. Well, more pale and Jon wanted to ask her if she was or if he was just imagining it.

He followed her from the car, up the driveway, up the front walkway to the porch and the front door. He saw her as she physically paused with her hand on the doorknob, exhaling a deep breath. She looked at him and Jon began to frown, wondering what the Hell was going on. Did she, with her aunt and uncle murder people and there was going to be dead bodies or their parts all over inside?

“I need you to promise me something,” she then said.

“Alright.” Jon didn’t think about his answer because he didn’t think that he had to.

“It would really mean a lot if you didn’t tell everyone at school about…” she took another deep breath and swallowed. “Just don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?”

Sansa didn’t answer. She pushed open the front door and Jon saw that it opened into a small entry way and the living room. The television was on and he heard the television was turned to some cartoon.

“Mama!” He then heard and as Sansa stepped into the house, Jon was able to see more.

The toys on the carpeted floor, the blanket spread out, and the little toddler sitting on it, stretching her arms out for Sansa as soon as she saw her come into the house.

“Hi, baby girl,” Sansa quickly dropped her bag and went straight for the toddler – obviously, her daughter – and scooped her up, kissing her on the cheek. “Oh, I missed you today. Did you miss me today?”

“Yes!” The girl exclaimed, clapping her hands, and Sansa laughed, kissing her cheek again.

She looked back to Jon, who was still standing at the door, seeing what was in front of him but also, not really seeing it at all.

Sansa had a baby? But how? They were in high school.

Well, that’s stupid, Jon, he swore at himself. His mom was eighteen when she had him and Sansa was far from the first teenager in this world to have a baby.

It made sense now. Constantly on the phone between classes, she was probably checking on her daughter. And rushing out of school right as the day ended, she was hurrying to be here. Was this why her parents sent her up to Last Hearth to live?

With the smallest smile, Jon closed the front door behind him.

“Clara, this is Jon. He goes to school with me,” Sansa said. “Can you say hi to Jon?”

The little girl looked at Jon and was still smiling. She looked like Sansa, he noted. Jon smiled back.

“Hi!” She chirped.

Jon’s smile widened. “Hi, Clara.”

She giggled, bringing her hands to her mouth, and Sansa smiled, too. She then looked to Jon and kept smiling. And Jon was grinning like an idiot but he didn’t really care.

…

#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction

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scrawnytreedemon · 3 years

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going off that last ask: loz/yazoo character opinion? i wanna read your thoughts!

Ohooooo, I was waiting for something like this!!! Thank you, Vee :) I’ll do my best to explain <333

Starting off with Yazoo:

First impression: Calm, level-headed, perhaps a bit shy. What surprised me the first time watching was how deep his voice was. He’s got this grace about him that leaves you simply... staring. I interpreted the introductory scene where Loz nearly cries and Yaz tells him not to as comforting-- Which I think is what a good chunk of Rem fans see it as? Overall, pretty, but not much else.

Impression now: I think he’s fucking ruthless under that dainty face, if you ask me. Honestly, it’d be right in line with Sephiroth. I think out of the both of his brothers, he gets along better with Kadaj, but if he wasn’t around, I doubt Yazoo would have nearly enough investment in their quest. He comes across as apathetic and uncompassionate, perhaps even a little haughty. I feel like his relationship with Loz is tolerable at best, and downright acidic at worst. With Loz being the way he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if Yazoo and Kadaj had to keep an eye on him at all times, just in case. I feel, though, at the end of the day Yazoo does care about his brothers, and would risk his life for them. It’s in his bones, and he can’t help it, whether he likes it or not. Still very pretty though, lmao.

Favourite moment: Been forever sinced I watched Advent Children, and, unfortunately, Yazoo my beloved doesn’t get many scenes. I’ll have to go with the introductory scene, as it gives us an idea of who they are and what their dynamic is like right off the bat.

Idea for a story: I feel like any story with Yazoo inevitably ends up involving Loz, so I’ll make a joint bullet-point for them at the end of the post <3

Unpopular opinion: Mmm, probably the more apathetic, if not downright spiteful characterisation. If my friend @vesaniens’s experience is to be believed, then at least Back In Her Day it was far more common for Yazoo and Loz to be buddy-buddy while Kadaj goes off and does his own thing. I can see the appeal in that dynamic, and understand where it comes from. There’s alot of ways you can interpret ‘don’t cry, Loz,‘ and as it is the introductory scene, however you do sets down the foundation for all that follows.

Favourite relationship: The Remnants aren’t characters I can find preferable ships for in-canon, so romantic is off the table here. I will say, though, a dynamic where Genesis and Yazoo are mentor and mentee would be downright tooth-rotting. Genesis preening him, taking him out to nice places, showing him fine literature-- I love it! I don’t see much talk about how the Remnants would relate to Gen and Geal, and I think that’s a damn shame. Plus, Yazoo can then quietly rub it in either of his brothers’ faces whenever he gets annoyed with them. To pick another, though, definitely him and Loz-- Especially if it is strained. It’s very clear they’re meant to contrast each other. Yazoo is lithe, subtle and venemous; Loz is big, loud and sensitive. I personally have a huge soft spot for fics where they recouncile their differences and learn to truly love each other.

Favourite headcanon: Honestly, I feel like I need to make a general headcanon post for the Rems as a whole. They’re all inherently tied, so a change to one of them usually affects the other two. To touch up on one from a theory I read about a year ago now(God, has it been that long?), I like the idea that the Remnants got a little bit of Genesis and Angeal mixed in. They’re like 90% Seph, give or take, but the other 10%~? Now that’s where the fun begins baby!!! In this case, the donor would be Genesis, and Yazoo would’ve gotten the more passive-aggressive, snarky, preening aspects of his character. The resentment and feelings of inferiority towards Sephiroth end up getting mixed into Kadaj, however I don’t want to elaborate on this too long lest I go off-topic. On a more crack-heavy note, I feel like if you waved a laser-pointer in front of him, he’d be transfixed. He’s too dignified to actually leap at it... But he likes watching :)

Now, as for Loz:

First impression: Big phuckign himbo, idiotte of a man. Probably can’t even buckle his own boots. Playtime??? Bitch NO, it’s not playtime! WHY ARE YOU CRYING??? But yeah, my initial view fell alot more in line with what I think is the most common interpretation of him. His excecution leans heavily to Big Dumb Idiot Man Who Cries When He Sees A Duckling.

Impression now: Baby. Poor fucking baby. Honestly, that could be said for all the Remnants, but I don’t think Loz’s struggle is discussed nearly enough. I’ve talked about this before, but, for me, it’s painfully clear that Loz is essentially a child in a grown man’s body. Writer Kazushige Nojima has Loz’s lines about playing during his fight with Tifa were based off his own son, and has described him as “missing a little something upstairs” --And looking at him through that lens, things become alot more disturbing. He’s Sephiroth’s love for Jenova; a doting, yearning, infantilising love. There’s an innocence to Loz, something sweet, something light and airy-- And to have him fight, have him torture, have him kill... just, man. This jarring dichotomy between such hulking, brutal strength, this bringer of destruction, and this kid who wants his mother. Is he aware? Does he truly understand the weight of his actions? Can he? Most of this, admittedly, is a bit of a stretch, but I love this doof alot jhdhjfdjhs can you blame me?

Favourite moment: Oh, definitely the crying scene-- You must be real tired of hearing that again. Though, in Loz’s case, it sets up his sensitivity, and his dynamic with his brothers-- Yazoo in particular.

Idea for a story: Same answer as Yaz.

Unpopular opinion: I think my more infantile view of Loz as a whole is semi-unpopular? Fandom seems pretty split on whether he’s just a himbo or actual babyman. Again, hard to tell, what with most Rem content and discussion being several years old and tricky to find. I’d be curious to have a discussion on this! But yeah, if we’re talking about the wider fanbase, I think my intense appreciation of him is definitely unusual. Alot of OG fans see the Rems as tropey villains, and while I will argue that it makes sense considering they’re fragments of a bigger, badder, more complex villain, I don’t think Loz is nearly as shallow as most would have you believe.

Favourite relationship: As discussed with Yazoo, there aren’t any canon characters I consistently ship the Remnants with -- Especially not for Loz, in particular when viewing him through that youthful lens -- Though as with everything, I am flexible :) On the platonic side... Honestly, I think Loz would just be a big softie who hangs around everyone. If Angeal was baking, Loz would definitely chip in to help, though he might cause more trouble than if he stayed aside. I think he’d try and reach out to Sephiroth, only for his affections to be rejected because the latter is Bad With Emotions and is torn between on whether the Remnants are a nuisance he hands off to his old friends or his children who he wants to scoop up and carry off into the vast cosmos.

Favourite headcanon: Loz eats alot of shit he isn’t meant to. Like, shit that would kill twenty grown men. At least once he has mistaken stinging nettle for mint, and spent the next two or three days scraping his tongue constantly. Would chase a ball if thrown, no questions asked; try playing frisbee with this dude, and you’ll end up on the other side of town by the end of it. If you try and pick him up, he just slumps, like a big, brawny ragdoll cat-- Probably purrs like one, too. Definitely appreciates a good scratch behind the ear :)

There’s like... probably mountains more, but this is what I’ve been able to coax out after a day of writing this on and off. Again, thank you so much for asking!! I’ve been meaning to ramble about the Remnants for ages now, but didn’t know how to go about it.

Aight, as promised:

Story idea: This is one I’ve had on my mind for years now. I haven’t gotten around to it, as it’d require greater familiarity with FFVII’s world as a whole, but the premise is that Yazoo and Loz escape far out into the countryside, and end up in a village. Yazoo soon falls ill, and Loz has to provide a living working for a local farmer. Their dynamic is initially strained, and without Kadaj to hold them together, they nearly end up splitting before arrival. As time passes, and as they grow closer to the community, Yazoo’s grumbles fade into concerned murmers. Slowly, he begins to trust Loz more, and Loz learns to take more responsibility. But as their friendship blossoms, Yazoo’s body withers. Bedbound, he wonders how Loz would fare without him, if he could make it. I imagine this ends up leading to Loz deliberately blowing their cover to get needed medical help from WRO, turning themselves in during the process.

Again, there’s probably more to it, but to be honest even I don’t know. That’s the great thing about creativity :) You never know where you end up!

Thank you for asking, and feel free to ask more if you’re curious! This goes for elaboration on characters already asked, certain headcanons, and even pairings! Also, feel free to add on with your own thoughts! Whether they be additions, refutations, or so on. Fandom discussion(provided it’s civil qwq) can be so much fun!

<333

#ffvii #advent children #yazoo #loz #remnants #ask meme #long post #scrawny speaks #love doing these!! keep em coming <33

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wondereads · 3 years

Text

Personal Recommendation (2/14/20)

The Sisters Grimm by Michael Buckley

I’m doing something new this week! I’ll be reviewing every book in The Sisters Grimm series. Each will get a small paragraph and get a rating out of ten, and then I’ll rate the series overall. Hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind this will contain spoilers for the later books, so don’t read ahead if you don’t want some major spoilers!

#1: The Fairy-Tale Detectives 9/10

The very beginning! Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, after a year in foster care with some dubious caretakers, are being sent to live with their grandmother, who, until a few days ago, they didn’t know existed. Granny Relda lives in Ferryport Landing, a typical small town in almost all aspects except for the significant population of fairytale characters or Everafters. The first book serves as a good introduction to Buckley’s world. The sisters have been shielded from fairytales their entire lives, so it’s easy to insert explanations for the inexperienced reader. It also very quickly sets up Sabrina and Daphne’s characters by using their reaction to Granny Relda and her fairytale reveal. Daphne, being a younger, more sheltered child, accepts it wholeheartedly and is excited to get involved in solving magical mysteries. Sabrina, after protecting her sister from nutcases for a year, has a much more cynical outlook, and it takes an actual giant scooping Relda up for her to believe. There’s also some memorable introductions for other important characters such as Mr. Canis, Puck, Mirror, and Mayor Charming. In terms of the plot, Buckley consistently creates mysteries that have twists but aren’t too difficult to follow for late elementary students.

#2: The Unusual Suspects 7/10

Things are starting to get a little more intense. Sabrina and Daphne are required to go to school after being preoccupied with chasing giants around the countryside. Unfortunately, especially for Sabrina, who wants to regain some semblance of normalcy, something is killing the teachers at school. I forgot how gruesome the murders were. I also forgot that Sabrina is in sixth grade. This particular book always got on my nerves. Sabrina is clearly having some issues; her parents are missing, she’s trapped in a town with fairytale characters, she can’t see to escape humiliation either at the hands of Puck or her classmates, and now people are being killed left and right. And yet, her family refuses to see that she needs help and decides to reprimand her constantly instead. The villain for this book is particularly disturbing. I must warn readers-child manipulation and abuse is a common theme in these books. If you couldn’t already catch on in the first book, it becomes obvious here that Sabrina has some grudges against the magical community.

#3: The Problem Child 7/10

This book has a sort of in-between feeling to me. Sabrina comes upon a maniacal little girl dressed in red who is holding her currently enchanted parents captive. The little girl, obsessed with recreating her family, is convinced they are her own parents and controls a jabberwocky, her ‘kitty’. All she needs is a granny and a doggy-Granny Relda and Mr. Canis. Everything in this book pours into the next ones, while, unlike the other books, there isn’t much of a self-contained plot. Red comes more into play in Tales from the Hood and The Everafter War, the election sets up Magic and Other Misdemeanors, and the vorpal blade and Puck’s injury lead into Once Upon a Crime. This book, however, introduces Uncle Jake, one of the most interesting characters in terms of development, and it also begins the problem of Sabrina’s magic addiction. The events of this book contribute to Sabrina’s distrust of magic after she has some run-ins with her addiction. It is also when you maybe start to develop some affection for Charming, despite his over-inflated ego.

#4: Once Upon a Crime 10/10

This one is my personal favorite. After Puck’s run-in with the jabberwocky, the Grimms take an emergency trip to New York, Sabrina and Daphne’s old home. There they plead the king of Faerie, Oberon, to heal Puck. Unfortunately, Oberon is poisoned within hours of their arrival, and Relda, of course, takes the case. This book is so much fun because in Ferryport Landing they just sprinkle the whole town in forgetful dust. In New York, Everafters need real jobs and a way to cover their tracks as beings who don’t age. The Wizard of Oz works at Macy’s, Ebenezer Scrooge makes a living as a medium, and pirates such as Long John Silver feed off of Wall Street. It also addresses the downsides of that. Everafters don’t age; some of them don’t even look human. It comes as a shock to Sabrina, but her mother, Veronica Grimm, was secretly working with the New York Everafters to fix their problems. I feel that Sabrina finding a connection to her mother through the Everafter community is the first step she takes toward accepting her role as a Grimm.

#5: Magic and Other Misdemeanors 8/10

The conflict between humans and Everafters starts to take center stage. Someone in Ferryport Landing is stealing powerful magical artifacts, causing rips in time, but the Grimms have to split their attention with Mayor Heart’s new tyrannical rule. This is where the series begins to take a darker turn. The new mayor, the Queen of Hearts, and Sheriff Nottingham are set on running every human in Ferryport Landing out of town, and the divides between human and Everafter are becoming more pronounced by the day. The rips in time are particularly interesting, especially Sabrina and Daphne’s trip to the future, which really raises the stakes going forward. Also, the idea of a past Grimm arriving in town, giving Heart and Nottingham a chance to end the entire family, is very nervewracking. Also, the concept of Everafter-human relationships and how that would work presents some interesting conflicts.

#6: Tales from the Hood 10/10

There’s nothing I love more than a fractured fairytale. Intent on getting rid of the Grimms’ staunch protector, Heart and Nottingham put Mr. Canis, or the Big Bad Wolf, on trial. Some investigation in order to clear his name reveals that the story of Little Red Riding Hood might not be all true. Technically, the entire series is based on fairytales, but this is the first book where those stories are actually challenged. The actual story of Little Red Riding Hood is amazing, and it also ties into all the other stories the Wolf is present in. Also, I love Red, the sane Red, and I always get so happy when she’s cured. Once again, Sabrina clashes strongly with her family in this one, for understandable reasons. I’m less inclined to side with her on this one, but she definitely learns her lesson.

#7: The Everafter War 8/10

The Grimms are finally united! Henry and Veronica Grimm are woken up from their magical sleep, but Henry, having too many bad memories, wants to leave town immediately. Unfortunately, the Scarlet Hand has taken over all of Ferryport Landing and only a small resistance stands in their way. There’s a lot of family drama in this one. The dynamics of Sabrina, Daphne, and their parents are all out of whack after spending over a year apart. On one hand, they now have parental support again. On the other, Henry can’t seem to conceptualize that Daphne is, in fact, not five anymore. If that isn’t enough drama for you, Puck finds out he and Sabrina are married in the future, and Snow and Charming are caught up in a soap opera of their own. Also, not to mention the plethora of betrayals in this book. The plot is really picking up here.

#8: The Inside Story 8/10

This one took quite some imagination. After the reveal of the Master’s identity as their own beloved Mirror, Sabrina, Daphne, and Puck pursue him and Pinocchio through the Book of Everafter, a living book filled with fairytales that could actually change history. I find it absolutely hilarious that the kids absolutely refuse to follow the story no matter what. Also, this is where Sabrina starts coming into her own. She’s going through a rough patch in this book. As would anyone whose best friend turned out to be the leader of a magical terrorist organization. By the way, if you are connected to these characters in any way, Mirror’s betrayal will hit you like a punch to the gut. She’s having trouble trusting her judgement, which will have her come back stronger than ever. Also, it’s nice to see her and Puck get through a couple sentences without a barrage of insults. Finally, Relda was such a badass in this book. If you didn’t love her before, you definitely love her now.

#9: The Council of Mirrors 9/10

It’s time for a happily ever after. With Mirror running loose in Ferryport Landing and the rebellion in tatters, things are looking bleak. Especially when the twenty-four remaining magic mirrors issue a prophecy putting everyone’s fate in the hands of Sabrina and Daphne Grimm. Sabrina starts out pretty broken in this book. She’s been betrayed, her grandmother is possessed by an evil mirror, and now everyone is expecting her to lead an army. I absolutely love that when she gets the push she needs from the mirrors it plays to her strengths. She’s a master of planning and subterfuge, and it’s so nice to see it come out. On a less chipper note, I hate Atticus with everything in me, and I was so happy he ended the way he did. In terms of Mirror, I found it poetic, but also so typical of a kid’s book, that he was defeated by the one thing he never had: love. Finally, the reason this book doesn’t get a 10/10 is because I felt the epilogues were kind of rushed and unrealistic. However, they don’t have much impact on the book overall, and I still loved most of it!

Overall 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

The Sisters Grimm is one of my favorite series from childhood. The characters are realistic, relatable, and get great development. Kids books are great because there’s no worries about the idea being too juvenile. This book could never be an adult book, the ideas in it are too silly. However, that doesn’t mean it isn’t amazing, and I find the crazy ideas and cheesy lessons absolutely charming. It gives some unexpected sides to some well-known characters, and the amount of thought that went into incorporating classic and even more obscure characters into the modern world was crazy and very amusing at times. I also suspect that this series is the root of my fondness for fractured fairytales. I would recommend this book to people who like modern fantasy, sibling relationships, and fairytale characters in a decidedly un-mystical setting.

The Author

Michael Buckley: American, 51 years old, also wrote N.E.R.D.S. and Undertow

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

#recommendations #reviews #books #the sisters grimm #michael buckley #children’s #fantasy #fairytales

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