Inspired by this tweet, More to my modern Obikin family AU
i love the idea of quiet, reserved modern!aemond with a neighbor who is just noisy as hell. constantly making thuds and bangs in the middle of the night, friends coming over and obnoxious laughter practically shaking his walls, and worst of all- their music. they insist on listening to the loudest kind of music ever made. one day, while trying to relax and study for an exam, he decided he had enough. he went to knock on their door when he heard the most amusing thing- them singing along. he leaned back on his heels and smiled a bit before they hastily opened the door.
“are you spying on me?” they asked boldly, eyeing him up and down. they were still a thorn in his side, but even in the quick moment they looked at him, they looked him in the eye- not his scar. he loosened up just a tiny bit.
“no.” aemond tried to bury his snicker in his voice. “are you trying to decimate my eardrums?”
“no.” they sighed. “i’m sorry, i’ll shut it off-“
“oh, no need.” he smirked. “i was quite enjoying the free concert.” they squinted at him, unsure if he was making fun of them or not. “look, don’t shut it off, just, turn it down a bit.”
they sighed again, softening up a little this time with a smile and a sarcastic salute. “yes, sir.”
he wordlessly greeted them goodbye with a simple hum and began to walk off.
“wait.” he turned to see them stepping outside their door, their full face, their full body- frazzled, messy hair and lounge clothes hanging loosely off of them, likely from a day of cleaning. even so, they pulled it off well enough to make aemond clear his throat and avert his gaze to the floor. “do you like music?”
his brows furrowed. “do i like music?”
“yeah.” they crossed their arms over their body, looking him up and down again, and christ, he was illegally beautiful. “well i mean, what kind of music?”
aemond blinked. “not the loud kind.”
they chuckled. “okay, not a punk fan, got it. i have an entire record collection in there.” they pointed back to their room. “what if i played, like, i don’t know, tchaicovsky while i worked?”
“tchaicovsky?” aemond scoffed. “you think i’m, what, a stuffy, pretentious old man? we’re the same age.” he said, a little too defensively.
“okay, then.” they shrugged again, opening the door to their room. “goodbye…” they hung in the doorframe, waiting for his name.
“aemond, my name is aemond.”
“goodbye, aemond!” they smiled and shut the door. he grumbled back to his apartment. finally sinking into the couch blessed with peace and quiet. it didn’t even take five minutes for the overture to the nutcracker begin to rumble his walls.
he rubbed a hand over his face, defeated. he fucking loved tchaicovsky.
► Why’d you only call me when you high? | Modern 「AU」
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Oh baby, are you awake? Are you ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤwaiting for me? I would love to go ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤto your apartment." He answered ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤcheerfully, with a distant sound in ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤthe background. "I FUCKING LOVE ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤYOU."
↺ pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Fem!Reader
↺ a/n: This is situated in college. I don't usually physically detail the reader so that feels included, but personality is something apart. English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. I’m totally obsessed with modern au.
↺ warnings: mentions of alchool and sex. NSWF. Don’t read if you’re underage!
Inspired by the queen of modern!aegon @valeskafics
Part one — Part Two
Usually your phone was in silent mode. You hated hearing/receiving any kind of notification, but then this important call came up that forced you to activate the annoying sounds. However, the rush throughout the day made you totally forget to disable the option and ended up being responsible for the rough way you woke up. In fact, there was another factor that contributed to the startled jump you gave on the mattress when you heard the irritating ringing of the call, and that factor — that someone — couldn’t be any other than him.
"Holy crap." You muttered sleepily and scared as you turned down the hellish volume on your phone. Your gaze narrowed when your saw the hour and your blood boiled when your saw the name of the blonde slut who ruined your sleep. “What the fuck made you call me at 3 AM, Aegon?”
“Oh baby, are you awake? Are you waiting for me? I would love to come to your apartment.” He answered happily, with a distant sound in the background. “I FUCKING LOVE YOU.”
"Are you drunk?" You asked irritably.
“Nop. Jace didn't let me drink much tonight, he's so annoying, come on."
"Are you high?"
"Totally. I think I smoked like 5 joints from-"
"YOU WHAT? WHY DO YOU ONLY CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE HIGH? YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
"WHY YOU HATE ME? I JUST WANT TO LOVE YOU."
“YOU JUST WANT TO FUCK ME AGAIN, LEAVE ME ALONE DUDE.”
“PLEASE I MISS YOU AND YOUR HOT PUS-“
Probably your grouchy neighbor on the right would complain about your screaming tomorrow. You didn't care, flinging yourself against the mattress as you dropped your phone to the side. Unbelievable. No, it was entirely believable by Aegon Targaryen standards.
You met him at a college party and almost regretted returning the smile he sent your way. Almost. He was sexy and cocky, the type of guy who certainly wouldn't be your type to get involved with, but who are you lying to? You liked the sloppy flirting and unfounded confidence he displayed. By the end of the night you were riding him wild and uninhibited, moaning as his hands tightened around your waist and tits.
Oh, how he loved watching you take him so hard. He moaned loudly as he filled the condom, maintaining a satisfied smile during and after he came hard. Fuck, you were unbelievable. He felt his pelvis tingle as you disconnected your bodies, dropping down next to him on the bed.
Ok, fucking that jerk was really good, but you knew it was a one-night stand. No hugs, no caresses and no cute kisses. You also knew that the main factor that made Aegon warm —besides your beauty — was your denying him the candy, flashing him a smile that let him know it wouldn't be easy to get into your pants. That made him insist even more, after all Aegon Targaryen doesn't rum away from a challenge as delicious as you.
However, you weren't the type of girl who liked to be dumped.
He eyes narrowed when he realized you were putting on the rest of your clothes, walking on the bed until he reached you. “I'm not kicking you out yet.” He said with a goofy grin.
“I know, I'm kicking myself out.” You returned the smile, snatching the cigarette from his hand. “I hate this shit.”
He throbbed to see you suck so sensually and release the smoke towards him, keeping your face close, which made it easy for him to capture your lips in a sloppy and horny kiss. Fuck, how he wanted to get hard again so he wouldn't let you go.
But apparently seeing him hot and fidgety only served to make you want to leave more.
“Come on, we can have a second round. I bet you'd like it more than the first one." He insisted in a whiny voice initially, but arrogantly later.
“Bet you would like it, big guy.”
With an amused smile as you turned your back, you grabbed your bag and winked at him before leaving. You really liked the feeling and you couldn't help it, hearing him ask for your number and get up naked behind you.
"I'll take you home, I won't let you out at this hour." He said, making you stop in surprise. "I'm going to put my clothes."
Doubting Aegon's cunning ability, you walked into the bedroom when he asked if the lipstick on the floor was yours.
He stayed on top this time, deliciously fucking your body, pulling your hair, fingering your clit and licking your neck. You came hard and let a smile break out as he thrust from behind. The motherfucker was really good.
"I'm still taking you home." Aegon said as he fell face down beside you, a smile even more idiotic than the first. It was cute, and you roll your eyes at the thought.
It's been a month since that night, and he didn't reach out to you again until last week. Since then, he calls you at dusk when he's mostly drunk or high. It was the fourth time you've attended to him under those conditions, but never this late. You huffed as you got out of bed to pee, phone in hand with flashlight on and skin automatically shivering with the cold that circulated in the apartment. It was extremely relaxing to relieve your bladder at dawn, but apparently you couldn't enjoy it for long as another call from Aegon popped up on your screen. You ignored it, but soon several messages started polluting your locked screen, one of which caught your attention.
“I'm coming to your apartment, get that pussy ready 💦💦”
OH COME ON.
Your fingers typed furiously to stop him from going to your house, recording two audios and calling him who magically decided to ignore you.
“Aegon, STOP BEING A BITCH AND DON’T COME TO MY HOUSE.”
It was the last thing you typed until you heard him yell outside. This can only be a joke. You quickly descended the floors until you found him outside, not caring about the lack of clothes that covered your legs. The uber looked at you amusedly, leaving shortly afterwards.
“Why are you here Aegon? Fuck." You pulled him inside, not wanting to expose yourself to the danger of a deserted street at dawn.
"I miss you." He whimpered as he squeezed your waist, as sly as a spoiled child. His hand cupped your ass as he whispered into your neck, “And this hot body. Mhmm let’s fuck, baby.”
“You’re in no condition to fuck anyone right now.” You countered by pulling away from him.
“Why are you so mean? This is so hot.”
Analyzing your options, you rushed to choose the best possible one for the situation. The first: you would send him back home and go back to sleep. The counterpoint: you didn't want to spend money on uber. The second option: you could call one of his friends to pick him up, but it was 3:15AM and you realized that you didn't have any of their numbers or instagram. The last one: you would let him sleep at your house and kick him out the next day. Counterpoint: he would probably take a while to sleep and consequently you would take a while to sleep. But apparently it was the only possible option.
So, dragging him back to your apartment, you straddled his bed on the couch while pushing his insistent hands away from your body. He was a fucking tease.
“Why can't I sleep in your bed?” He whimpered.
"Because you don't want to sleep in my bed." You emphasized the word sleep, leading him to the couch.
“Mhmm, stay with me until I fall asleep, ok?”
You huffed when he laid down and pulled you close. Sitting down next to him and letting him guide your hand to touch the silver hair, you complained, "You're so spoiled, you know that?"
“Uhmm.” He nodded sleepily, quickly closing his eyes.
Damn, you really had a problem to solve now.
Modern AU Sansa Stark as a little girl and Lady as a husky ♥️ For a challenge I participated in on IG ✨
Black Butler Modern AU, but it’s just Sebastian and the fire alarm having a never ending feud.
I’ve been thinking about a 007 secret agents AU for many years now, and figured I should draw for it! Here’s Isabela, who is Agent 003 (where Hawke is Agent 007 and Fenris is Agent 006). She will show up wearing a dress, and there will be no less than 8 weapons on her at all times!
WE’RE THE LAST IN LINE: 3
mechanic!Eddie x female!Reader
Eddie was the worst driver imaginable. Weaving in and out through traffic, which you wouldn’t think that Hawkins even had traffic but apparently noon time meant that every Tom, Dick and Harry came to the surface on the streets of Hawkins.
“Are your eyes still closed?” Eddie chuckles through the headset of the motorcycle helmet. You feel your body slightly move forward as the motorcycle comes to a stop sign. A gloved hand rubs your knuckles as they are clasped desperately around Eddie’s middle. “I bet those knuckles are white under your gloves, huh?”
“Well I haven’t lived in Hawkins for that long but last I remembered the speed limits were not a free for all.” Eddie lets out a hearty laugh, his belly rolling under your cramping fingers.
He roars the engine as he speeds through town, coming to a stop in front of the Hawkins Police Department. Eddie cuts the engine as he puts the kick stand down. “Alright. So just put your foot on the ground and swing off, and I’ll be right behind you.” Planting your left foot firmly on the ground you remove your death grip against Eddie’s abdomen and move your hands to his shoulders. You somehow manage to get off the bike without falling over. Eddie does the same and grabs the helmet off your head and then his, you quickly smooth down any stray hairs that were messed up from the helmet. Eddie straightens the bandana wrapped around his head and gives you a shy smile.
“It wasn’t that bad was it?” He says leaning down to move a piece of hair away from your face. Your cheeks warm as you turn away from him to face the brick building of the Hawkins Police Department. Your breath hitches in your chest. Here it is, hopefully the only other time in your life that you’ll have to see Jason. You had called the hospital earlier today and told them you were quitting, they took the news terribly but the mere thought of seeing Jason again, whether he was allowed to return to work or not, was not something you wanted to deal with. Eddie steps into your peripheral vision, “I’ll be right here beside you.”
Stepping into Hopper’s office you take a big breath to try and ground yourself, it reeked of lemon Pine Sol and Marlboro Reds. Your legs are crossed and your right foot is wiggling as you wait impatiently. Eddie is sitting next to you in an identical chair bouncing his legs up and down. He looks relaxed but bored beyond belief. Reaching onto Hopper’s large desk, Eddie grabs two pens and taps them along the rim of a filthy coffee cup. You giggle the more animated he becomes. He’s twirling the pens between his fingers and counting off “1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4!”
“Don’t touch that.” A booming voice from the open doorway says, “or I’ll arrest you on theft charges.” In the doorframe stands a very large man, sporting a big burly mustache and a lit cigarette hanging out of his hidden mouth. A gold star pinned to his chest.
“Hop!” Eddie says walking forward and shaking his hand, “thanks again for taking care of all of this. This is y/n,” he says motioning to you. You smile shyly and wave towards them.
Hopper and Eddie walk back to the desk, “So,” Hopper begins, “Eddie gave me the rundown on what he saw happen that night but I just want to verify everything with you and get what Eddie wasn’t there for, if you’re uncomfortable at any time please, let me know.” You nod along as Hopper questions you about the events leading up to where Eddie stepped in and saved your life. You go into gruesome detail about how Jason had you pinned up against the wall and was forcing himself onto you. Your hands are trembling as you reach for a Kleenex. Your nerves are frazzled as you recall that night from hell. Eddie pats your shoulder gingerly as you dab at your eyes. His stark features are torn into a concerned expression, like he isn’t sure if he should hold you or not.
Finishing up with questioning, Hopper tells you it’s time for the line up. Eddie stands and gestures to the hallway, unsure if you wanted him there with you. You grab his hand desperately and look into his eyes, a silent plea of begging him to go with you. “I’m right here,” he whispers into your ear.
The line up takes less than five minutes. Six men all walk forward in a straight line holding black lettered numbers on white boards. Eddie is standing next to you, never leaving your side, his large hand wrapped around yours, grounding you to this place and this moment. They turn to face the one-way mirror. Jason is holding up the #4. You turn to Hopper and tell him which one is Jason. He thanks you for coming in and looks to Eddie, “Take care of her, make sure she gets home safe.”
Eddie answers simply, “I will.” A sense of pride taking over his body, as if he has one job to do and that’s to make sure you’re taken care of.
Breathing in the cold bitter air of the autumn foliage you fill your lungs, letting the cool air sting your lungs as you exhale deeply. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, happy that it’s nearing the end. “You hungry?” Eddie has his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and blows a cloud of smoke around his lit cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth.
“Starving, actually.” For the first time in what seemed like days you smile fully at Eddie. Talk about the right place at the right time. You would forever be grateful for that. Forever grateful for his kind presence that night, never overbearing just, there.
“Hmmm,” Eddie says, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it, “Benny’s has the best strawberry lemonade I’ve ever had, is that cool with you? I mean if not I can take you to the the pizza place, or I might actually have some cans of tuna if you’re into th—”
You place a hand over Eddie’s mouth as you look him deep into his eyes, “You had me at strawberry lemonade.”
What used to be the most popular spot in the 80’s, was now a very run down diner. But Eddie swore they had the best food. Benny’s is slow for the lunch hour, only a few guests trickling across the diner. Eddie leads you to a small table set for two in the back of the restaurant. You take off your coat and sit down, Eddie doing the same. Grabbing a menu, he smiles at you as you look intently at the various options of burgers. Eddie’s phone dings repeatedly as a flood of texts come in. His smile fades as he looks at his phone.
You peek at him through the top of the menu. His eyebrows knit together and you can feel his knee bouncing slightly under the table, irritation rising throughout his body. “So have y—” his phone dings again. His face is reddened with embarrassment and he is clearly flustered, “I’m sorry—I uh— just have to make a quick phone call, if the waitress comes by, order me whatever you get, I’m so sorry this’ll only take a minute.” He stands quickly and leaves through the front door stomping out to his bike. He’s talking animatedly with his free hand and shaking his head. Placing his phone back into his pocket, he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his thumb and finger into the corners of his eyes.
The waitress emerges and takes your orders, two strawberry lemonades and two bacon cheeseburgers with fries and ranch. As she’s leaving Eddie slides back into the booth. “Sorry.” he blushes.
“Everything okay?” You ask, wondering if it was his girlfriend calling all these times and you were made out to be a homewrecker. “You seem, upset.”
Eddie ponders for a minute letting his hand hold his head as he looks around the old diner. “Nah I’m alright, its -uh no big deal.” The corners of his lips raise into a smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. After everything Eddie did for you you wish he would just open up to you. Let his guard down for a few minutes to take some much needed pressure off.
You smile warmly at him as the two largest glasses of sticky strawberry lemonade are plopped in front of you. The momentum from the waitresses walk over tips the ice, making the drinks slosh up and over the side of the glasses. Two straws are thrown down on the soaked table as the waitress pops her gum loudly and leaves. You can’t help but let out a tired laugh. Eddie laughs too at the sight of the sticky table. You hastily wipe up the mess as best as you can with the thin napkins. “Seriously, this is the best lemonade even if it was nearly dumped on our laps on the delivery!” Eddie says giddily, “Go ahead, try it. I’ll go get a towel or something.”
You take a sip of the syrupy beverage and instantly you’re in heaven. Eddie comes back over holding a rag, “How is it?! As good as I look or a close second?” He says beaming.
“It’s delicious! A total mess but aren't most things that are a sugary goodness?” You say sweetly. Eddie smiles softly at you as he lifts the glasses up one at a time and runs the hot cloth over the scratched wooden table. He looks defeated, as if his mind is plagued with something beyond his control. “You can talk to me if you want about whatever makes your eyebrows go like this,” you mimic how his eyebrows look when he’s frustrated. Eddie barks out a laugh.
“I appreciate that. But it’s… complicated. Besides you don’t want to hear about what’s keeping me looking like Oscar the grouch.” His eyes fall to the table as he picks at the paper from his straw wrapper.
“I wouldn’t have said that if I was lying.” You answer. The food appears and Ms. Happy-go-lucky sets the baskets of food down in a gradual descending manner. “Ooh this looks good.”
“Yeah and the waitress must have smoked a bowl on her break since she didn’t toss the food at us.” Eddie says with a grin eyeing his food. “Ranch? How’d you know the way to my heart?” Eddie was so overjoyed at the little things life offered it was honestly the most endearing part of him. He was like a little kid.
You finish your lunch laughing throughout the meal. When you tried to pay for your half Eddie wouldn’t hear of it. “Sorry, their card machine is broken, you ready?!”
“Ok well I’ll Venmo you.”
“Don’t have it,” he grins.
“Nope, I won’t be accepting any form of money from you, this was my treat so hush up.” Eddie says sliding out of the booth and reaching out to grab your hand. “Come on,” he smiles, “let’s go for a drive.”
Eddie is speeding down every road in Hawkins, talking to you as he drives, showing you around like he’s paid by the City of Hawkins to be a tour guide. “And here, is our apartment complex, a new build for Hawkins hoping to bring youth to the dying town.”
Eddie parks his motorcycle and puts the kick stand down, you get off the same way he taught you and take the helmet off running your hands through your hair.
Handing Eddie your helmet you begin walking in step with him to your building. “Thank you for coming with me today, I don’t think I could have done it alone.”
“O’course!” Eddie says jingling his keys as he walked, “I wouldn't want to be alone either.” The two of you walk in awkward silence the last steps to your door, nothing but the scuffing sound of the sidewalk beneath your shoes. Reaching your door you turn to face Eddie.
“Thanks again, Eddie… I really appreciate it.” you smile shyly at him as you turn to unlock your door. The tension between you both could be cut with a knife. Eddie reached out slightly to touch your elbow.
“Hey— uhh, I’ll see you around, if you need anything— anything at all, don’t be afraid to call or text me okay?” Eddie’s gentle touch on your elbow almost has you melting into him. How could the smallest of gestures be so sweet and endearing? “Don’t be a stranger, cause ya know stranger dang—.” Eddie trails off as heat crawls up his face. He lets out a pitiful little laugh as he lets your elbow go.
“Alright, but don’t be upset if I actually do stop by for a cup of sugar.” You grin back at him.
“Shit, I’ll have to actually buy some then.”
The next few days are quiet. The only thing you hear from Eddie is when his motorcycle comes into the parking lot late at night. Other than that you two move around like ships in the night, just barely missing each other. The amount of times you have started a text to him is embarrassing. You wanted to talk to him, but were lost for words. You didn’t forget about how frustrated he was when his phone rang or the name tattooed across his chest.
Sitting in Pete’s chair the next day you are tempted to ask him about Eddie. He’s having you practice straight lines on practice skin as he looks over your shoulder. He pulls up a stool and runs a heavily tattooed hand through his short bleach blonde hair. “Those look good, you’re really getting the hang of deepening the lines.”
“Thanks, um can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.” He says picking up his tattoo gun and filling in a blank spot on his knee.
You aren’t sure how to ask without sounding like a complete and total dumbass. “That guy, who comes in here…Eddie, what do you know about him?”
Without looking up Pete replies, “Yeah he’s cool. Known him since high school. Good dude. Why? What’d’ya want to know ‘bout him?”
“Nothing, I just noticed he has a name tattooed on his chest. Is that his.. mom?” You knew damn well it wasn’t his mom’s name. Did you know his her name? Absolutely not but still it was a good enough question as any.
Pete let’s out a small chuckle, “Look if you wanna fuck him, do it. He’s a good guy, just makes dumb jokes sometimes. As far as the Chrissy tattoo, that is beyond my realm of explaining.”
Well that cleared absolutely nothing up for you. Didn’t outline whether or not he was single or if Chrissy was his mom. You decide to just drop it, instead of worrying about it you decide that if Eddie wanted to reach out he would.
Later that night Eddie is flipping through Netflix after a long day at work. A cold beer is resting on the coffee table and his lap is balancing a paper plate with some cold pizza. He’s tired, exhausted after dealing with Chrissy’s never ending phone calls and texts. His phone dings and he breathes out a frustrated sigh. Just ten minutes without her constant fucking nagging? Is that too much to ask? He digs in the pocket of his sweatpants and unlocks his phone. He looks over at the counter where the sugar he bought still sits. A small smile breaks as he opens up his messages. A simple little text. That was enough to turn this shitty day around.
Taglist: @boomhauer @sidthedollface2 @b-irock @creoleguurl @tlclick73 @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @emxxblog @jadequeen88
Graphics + dividers made by me🖤
Modern AU where Hiccup & his friend group are punks who run an (unofficial) independent animal rescue. They've literally broken into ppls backyards to rescue abused, neglected, mistreated, abandoned, & stolen animals. (Yes this is illegal & not how ur "supposed to do it", they dont care. Theyll deal w/ "the law" later.)
They go in looking like a lil group of "mischievous punks going to cause trouble & graffiti something" but they come out with an armful of kittens, 3 dogs, & a pony. They keep most rescues at Hiccups place cause his dad owns a big property, & Stoic is getting kind of tired of random animals showing up all of a sudden. But he can't stay mad, cause Valka was the same aboutt helping critters.
happy scaramouche debut eve <3
Not all witches' gear is created equal. Some* brooms are more temperamental than others.
Inktober prompt 30: Gear
*Granny's is the only broom in existence that requires bump starting
Old renders of Macaque I never posted (including college AU sketch)
— resigning [scaramouche x gn!reader]
warnings/notes; cursing, fluff, smoking, cigarettes, heavily insp by uramichi, soft scara is eternal, scara who has a soft spot for kids is the only scara, use of kunikuzushi as his name bcs i will die in my grave still calling him that it's beautiful, yn and scara are adults
summary; you volunteer at your nearby daycare pretty often... of course, only to help out with the children. it's not like there's a really hot guy who constantly complains about wanting to quit his job but stays for the kids, not at all. today's volunteer work is a field day trip.
"We're on nickname basis now?" He grabs the bottle of cold water I tossed him from the air.
"It's not my fault your name is too long to say."
"You act as if it's my fault. I didn't name myself, after all."
"Still, you're the one with the name."
"Whatever, don't be surprised if I start suddenly calling you sweetie pie baby cakes."
Kunikuzushi gives me a deadpan stare, telepathically nagging me for actually thinking he would ever call me that. Before I can pick out a response though, Lisa calls us out.
"This field day was not made for people to flirt, go on and take care of the children, you lovebirds."
"Say that again and I'm writing my resignation papers."
"Maybe in your dreams, for now I want you to go check on the bouncy house."
"Kunikuzushi, mind your language—may I remind you once again, we're around children?"
He trudges off, leaving me stifling my chuckle at how quickly Lisa got him back on track.
"You too, Y/N. Volunteer work isn't couples work, can you check on the playground area? Especially the sandbox... You know what happened last week."
"You got it."
I do in fact remember what happened last week. The daycare's playground was entirely covered in sand because the kids couldn't keep the sand where they're supposed to... Something about digging down to Australia? I'm sure Lisa doesn't want a repeat of that, especially in a park she doesn't own and was offered to borrow for the day from the mayor.
"Y/N! Come play with us!" A group of children run towards me upon spotting me walking towards them. They stare with their expert puppy dog eyes, practically begging. "Guys... Only if you pinky promise to keep everything clean and not hurt each other," I give in with a long sigh. "We promise! We love playing with you!" They all share high fives and I can recognize all 4 of them as Beatrice, Elizabeth, Marie, and Sara.
This group has always been so sweet, though all of them have spent a few years here from the amount of time their parents work, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm overjoyed that of all places, they ended up here.
"I finished checking on the bouncy house but... What are you doing over here?" Kuni comes up from behind me.
"Having fun with the kids. What's with that look—do you want to join? Hiding jealousy isn't your strong suit, you know."
"Ooooh! Mister Kuni said a bad word!" The little group cheers.
"There's a lot more where that came from," Kuni laughs while gritting his teeth at their choice of address.
"Maybe not, stop yourself there. You can come join us, though, don't be shy," I offer my hand out to him.
He hesitates a little before taking it, but nonetheless comes down and crouches with the rest of us. Strangely enough, his hand is warm. It sends butterflies fluttering through my entire body, also creating goosebumps whenever I think about our entwined hands. His hands are fine, smooth, not a single callous on any of his finger tips.
"Y/N, are you okay? You're clutching my hand as if the world is about to end," He raises his eyebrow as his voice brings me out of my trance.
"Yeah, no, I'm perfectly fine. I just- Let's go play hide and seek or something..."
Marie scoots closer towards Kuni, getting closer to his ears. She says something I can't pick out with my ears, but I do understand what it was after seeing the expression laid out on Kuni's face. "Marie, that stuff isn't for kids to talk about. Spend your time playing here, not thinking about boyfriends and all those things. Save it for when you're actually our age."
"But..." She sits back down, looking deflated.
I shove my shoulder up to his, teasing him, "What did she say, huh?"
"Nothing you need to know."
The kids scurry away and whisper amongst themselves, coming out with an announcement momentarily after.
"Y/N, Mister Kuni, we have something to perform for you guys!"
"A performance, you say? I can't wait to see it!" I get comfortable, ready to watch whatever silly show or dance they came up with.
"Yay!" The kids cheer, forming into a line and holding hands.
"Y/N and Kuni, sitting in a tree!" Beatrice starts them off, but the rest of them follow in unison, "K I S S I N G!"
I pause in shock, throwing a hand over my mouth immediately after hearing their song.
"Guys, guys, please, stop it, that's..."
"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!" They practically jump up in glee.
What genius children.
Kuni and I stare off into yonder, frozen in time with embarrassment, refusing to look at each other.
"I'm going to report you four to Lisa. No singing about kissing, marriage, or... Especially making babies." Kuni demands, entirely red faced.
"WAIT! Please not Miss Lisa... We're sorry," They stare at their toes, acting innocent.
I sigh in defeat, unable to be angry at them, "We can let them off for now, it's fine, we have other things to be taking care of anyway."
"Have you seen the time? It's almost dinner, we have to prepare the food and get ready to send the kids home in an hour or so."
"Oh. I guess you're right. Time flies fast during work... Especially when you're helping out."
I pretend to not hear the last part he muttered under his breath.
Of course, with bickering in between, we manage to finish handing out dinner and return the children to their parents without... too much struggle. The fiasco from before gets reported to Lisa, but instead of getting upset, she just waves it off with a laugh, and "Even the kids understand what's going on, whatever is going on between you two needs to get figured out."
But we're actually alone, stuck packing our stuff and getting ready to leave ourselves.
"Y/N, I'm taking you home. I know you didn't arrive with a car, neither did I, it's already dark and I don't trust you out there alone," Kuni comes up behind me.
"Awe, you want to make sure I'm safe? That's sweet."
"No, I don't want to be blamed for not keeping you safe if anything happens. There's a difference."
"Whatever you say, let's go. I'll invite you in for some dessert if you stay obedient during the walk home."
"Obedient? You think of me as a dog? Maybe I won't take you home anymore, I'll leave you for dead instead."
"That's just mean, I was kidding, I know you wouldn't leave me for dead anyway," I laugh at how quickly he responded with annoyance.
"Be quiet, let's just go."
"I'm perfectly fine with that."
A few minutes into our walk, Kuni brings out a lighter and a cigarette from the small backpack he was carrying.
"You smoke?" I question as he takes the cigarette to his mouth, lighting it.
He takes it out of his mouth for a second to respond, "I think it'd be more surprising if I didn't smoke. How else would I get through life?"
"I mean, you don't see me smoking to get through every day."
"I don't, but that's exactly why you should try it sometime. You want one?" He offers.
"Just this once," but a thought runs through my head when I accept his offer.
"...But only if you light my cigarette with yours."
"You mean... You want a cigarette kiss? Fuck you, this is why I can't keep you out of my head, how are you gonna go and casually pull this shit," He looks away, almost as if to ignore my statement.
"What was that?" I grin.
"You're imagining things, I didn't say anything."
"Right," I feign ignorance.
Kuni speaks up after a short moment of silence, "I'll take you up on that whole dessert thing, in that case. Only if you make it a date, 'sweetie pie baby cakes.' "
i had the time of my life writing this, its been in my drafts for so long i came up with the idea like months ago LMAO i hope everyone enjoys ty for reading and take care of urself <3
The Advent Calendar
Just a little modern AU E/R December fluff.
Grantaire blinked blearily at the large package sitting on the kitchen table. “What’s this?” he asked, skirting around the table to make a beeline for the coffee.
Enjolras just shrugged. “How should I know?”
Grantaire paused, turning from the coffeepot to frown at him. “Presumably because you put it there?” he said, not awake yet to grasp whatever joke Enjolras was making.
“What makes you say that?” Enjolras asked before taking a sip of his own coffee.
Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to answer all of my questions with questions?”
The hint of a smirk played the corners of Enjolras’s mouth as he said, “Are you going to ask me a question that doesn’t make me reply with a question of my own?”
“Fuck me, I need coffee,” Grantaire sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face before finally pouring himself a cup of coffee. He carried it over to the kitchen table and sat down next to Enjolras, draining half of it in one gulp before asking, “So what’s with the box?”
Enjolras shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Enjolras gestured at the box in question. “I mean, I woke up this morning, I came into the kitchen to make coffee, and the box was there.”
That was possibly one of the most nonsensical things Grantaire had ever heard, and he stared blankly at Enjolras for a moment before finally managing, “And you didn’t open it?”
Grantaire counted to ten in his head before asking, with what little pre-caffeine patience he had left, “Why not?”
“Because it’s for you,” Enjolras said, as if it was obvious.
“How could you possibly know that?” Grantaire demanded, thoroughly exasperated.
His exasperation was not helped by the fact that Enjolras looked like he as enjoying this. “Because it’s got your name on it.”
Grantaire’s exasperation dissipated, and he stood to get a better look at the box. Sure enough, his name was written in a neat cursive in the top corner, and his brow furrowed. “Well, that’s not your handwriting.”
Enjolras snorted into his coffee. “Extremely astute.”
“So this isn’t from you?” Grantaire asked.
Now Enjolras frowned at him. “Why would you think it’s from me?”
“Because it’s a box in our apartment to me,” Grantaire said pointedly. “Who the fuck else would it be from?”
“Santa?” Enjolras suggested, his lips twitching. “The Baby Jesus? Any one of our multiple friends who all have keys to our apartment?”
Grantaire considered it. “Fair enough on the last point,” he said. “I think we can both agree Baby Jesus has more important things on his tiny infant hands than bringing me a random gift on the first of December.”
He picked up his coffee and took another sip, and Enjolras watched him for a long moment before asking, “So are you going to open it?”
“Shouldn’t I wait?” Grantaire asked.
Enjolras stared at him. “For what?”
“The second coming of the Baby Jesus,” Grantaire said dryly. “For Christmas, idiot.”
Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Bit early for a Christmas gift, don’t you think?”
“True.” Grantaire hesitated for a moment before setting his coffee down. “Fuck it, I’m going for it.” He probably should’ve gotten a pair of scissors or something to cut the tape but decided his brute strength would suffice. When he had finally wrestled the tape from it, he opened the box flaps to reveal… “A box inside a box,” he said, lifting the gift-wrapped box from inside, surprised by how heavy it was.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Enjolras murmured.
Grantaire studied the box for a moment before telling Enjolras, “I think it’s an advent calendar. See?” He pointed to the top of the box, where the wrapping paper seemed almost sunken at various points across the surface. “There’s numbers, 1 through 24.”
Enjolras nodded, peering at the neat rows of number written across the wrapping paper, just like an advent calendar. “Well there’s really only one way to find out,” he said. “Open number 1.” Grantaire shrugged and hesitated before punching through the wrapping paper where the 1 was written. He pulled out a small bottle, turning it over in his hands to look at the label. “What is it?”
Grantaire held the bottle up. “A tiny bottle of scotch,” he said, sounding delighted.
Enjolras laughed. “Someone clearly knows you well.”
“Someone like you?” Grantaire asked.
“Did we not determine that it wasn’t my handwriting?” Enjolras retorted. “It’s probably from one of our friends. Maybe they decided you needed some liquid Christmas cheer.”
Grantaire shrugged again. “Maybe.” He looked from the bottle to the box. “I mean, I’m grateful, whoever they are, especially if all the rest of the days have alcohol.”
Enjolras huffed a laugh. “I think that’s a pretty decent guess”.
Grantaire glanced up at him. “And you’re sure it wasn’t you?”
“Look, I know I said that I would try harder to be a better boyfriend,” Enjolras said, “but I think we can both agree this is a level of effort too extreme even for my renewed attempts.”
Considering Enjolras hadn’t even bothered to wrap the last Christmas gift he gave Grantaire, maybe he had a point. “True enough,” Grantaire said, before adding innocently, “So maybe I should date this person instead.”
It was an idle threat if ever he had made one, and Enjolras didn’t look remotely impressed. “Maybe you should,” he said, just a little sourly. “In the meantime, I’m going to shower.” He stood, giving Grantaire a once over before asking, “Care to join me?”
Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to out compete whoever gave me an alcohol advent calendar with sex?”
Enjolras jerked a shrug before peeling his shirt off and asking, “Is it working?”
Grantaire’s eyes darkened. “Oh yeah,” he said, draining his coffee before standing to follow Enjolras. “Definitely working.”
— — — — —
The chatter in the back room of the Musain faded as Grantaire stood. “Before we begin,” he started, but he was immediately interrupted by Courfeyrac, looking horrified.
“Are you dying?”
Grantaire frowned at him. “What the fuck, no?”
Courfeyrac just shook his head, eyes wide. “I just assumed. I mean, you always said the only way you’d lead a Les Amis meeting is over your dead body.”
Everyone laughed and Grantaire gave him the finger. “I’m not leading the meeting, asshole,” he said. “I just wanted to make a quick announcement.”
It was Jehan’s turn to interrupt, clapping his hands together delightedly before asking eagerly, “Did Enjolras propose?”
Enjolras’s eyes widened. “What the fuck, no?” he squawked
Grantaire gave him a sour look. “Do you really sound so terrified by the idea?” Enjolras mumbled something to himself, avoiding Grantaire’s glare, and Grantaire rolled his eyes before telling the group. “I wanted to thank whoever gave me the advent calendar.” He looked expectantly at Les Amis but was greeted by a sea of blank faces, and he frowned. “No one’s going to fess up to it? Really?”
Combeferre cleared his throat. “I don’t think anyone knows what you’re talking about.”
“A package arrived this morning that contained a homemade advent calendar, for me,” Grantaire said impatiently. “And it has alcohol in it. Or at least, today’s did.” He shrugged. “I can only assume the rest do as well.”
He expected everyone to be fairly excited or at least intrigued by this mystery, but instead, nearly everyone looked…worried. “Someone you don’t know dropped off an unmarked, unmailed package?” Combeferre repeated slowly. “And you brought it inside? And opened it?”
Grantaire and Enjolras exchanged confused glances, and Joly asked sharply, “Did you drink the alcohol?”
“Of course I did,” Grantaire said, bewildered.
Joly looked murderous. “What the fuck were you thinking—” he started, as Bahorel groaned and asked Enjolras, “Dude, you let him?”
“Let me—?” Grantaire repeated dangerously, and Enjolras shrugged uncomfortably and said, “I assumed it was—”
“Never assume!” Courfeyrac half-shouted. “With the level of threats we’ve been getting?”
Grantaire finally understood why everyone was losing their shit, and he rolled his eyes. “This would be a really fucking elaborate assassination attempt,” he pointed out. “Besides which, wouldn’t they send it to Enjolras and not me?”
“Not if they assumed you’d be the one dumb enough to bring an unknown package into your apartment,” Combeferre said dryly. “And do you know how much time some of these people have on their hands?”
Enjolras cleared his throat and stood. “Look, how about we all just calm down—”
Bossuet talked over him. “What is the point of putting in place security measures if you’re going to willfully ignore every single one of them?”
“Are you feeling ok?” Joly asked Grantaire, worriedly, trying to feel his forehead. “Warm, or clammy, or—”
Grantaire scowled and batted his hand away. “I feel fine, Joly, stop—”
“Ok, enough!” Enjolras burst, and everyone immediately fell silent. “It was me.”
Grantaire stared at him. “What?”
Enjolras face was roughly the same color as his red hoodie. “It was me,” he repeated. “I made the advent calendar, I had Pontmercy do the writing because I knew you wouldn’t recognize his handwriting, and…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “It was me.”
“Why did you lie about it?” Grantaire asked.
“I just…” If possible, Enjolras’s blush deepened. “Like I said earlier, I told you I would try, and you know that I am, but I thought you might think this was a little, I don’t know…desperate.”
Grantaire made a noise like a cat choking on a hairball. “You thought I would find my boyfriend making me a super nice gift desperate?”
Enjolras scowled at him. “I mean, wouldn’t you?”
He had a point, and Grantaire tried to hide his smile as he admitted, “A little, but it’s also extremely sweet.” He gave Enjolras a look. “Not so much the repeatedly lying about it part, of course.”
Enjolras made a face. “Well I didn’t really think that, uh, our friends the FBI would freak out like this,” he said sourly, giving everyone a pointed look.
Not a single person looked remotely abashed, and Grantaire laughed lightly. “Honestly, that’s very sweet as well. They’re just looking out for us.”
“A little late,” Enjolras pointed out, “since if the whisky had been laced, you already drank it.”
“Yeah, but it’s the thought that counts.”
“I don’t think that’s true when it comes to potential toxins,” Joly muttered.
Feuilly raised his hand. “Hey, Enjolras, the next time you want to do a revoltingly disgusting romantic gesture, you want to do it on your time and not ours?”
Both Enjolras and Grantaire gave him the finger. “No,” Enjolras said, leaning in to kiss Grantaire. “I don’t think I will.”
Grantaire laughed. “Alright, floor’s yours,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Enjolras scowled down at him. “You have something better to do?”
Grantaire winked at him. “I sure do.”
Courfeyrac mimed throwing up but Enjolras ignored him. “Alright everyone,” he said, grinning, “Let’s get this meeting started.”
Baby's first snow. Feysand.
A/N: I love a fluffy holiday prompt! And anything that involves Nyx. Thank you and enjoy. x
Ship: Feyre x Rhysand
Trope: family, 2nd gen, baby's 1st snowfall
Submit a prompt!
Feyre frowned at the sight of Nyx, who was being a trooper as he sat on the floor, unable to move. He was dressed in so many layers that he had to be near sweating, but the second they were outside, the six month old would be grateful.
"Sorry, buddy," she muttered, and scooped him into her arms once she had her boots secured. "I promise that snow is fun. Just...the preparation is a little time consuming."
Nyx gave a grumbling noise that didn't sound too promising, but the second they stepped out onto the porch, his eyes grew wide.
A snow storm had come in over night. From the time that Nyx went to bed the night before to after supper, half a foot had fallen in a fluffy white blanket outside of their cabin home. After a morning of playing and reading and watching ridiculous movies, Feyre thought it was time for her firstborn to experience his first winter wonderland.
"Daddy will be home soon," Feyre promised, descending the porch stairs. "He loves the snow."
Nyx grinned at the sound of his father's name. As Feyre made her way into the yard, Nyx lifted his hands in the air to try and catch the falling flakes. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, couldn't take her eyes away from this moment. Since becoming a mother, Feyre wanted to dwell in every first. And, in the first year of life, there are so many firsts. One day, Feyre would look back and remember them all. Including this one.
Where Feyre had grown up, she had rarely seen snow. Now, on the outskirts of Velaris, she saw snow all the time, but nothing would compare to that first big snow. The world was coated in a fluffy blanket of white, and the stillness brought an ethereal sense of peace. Although she was much older than Nyx when she saw this much snow, she wondered if it was having the same effect of Nyx now.
Feyre had just plopped Nyx down in the snow when Rhysand's car pulled into the driveway. Nyx giggled, his little gloved hands reaching for the snow around him.
Rhysand had barely parked when he threw the driver's side open and got out of his car. "I missed it?"
Feyre chuckled as her husband came towards them, not prepared at all for the snow in his dark slacks and jacket. She couldn't imagine how cold his feet were in his dress shoes. "Missed what?"
"Nyx, in the snow for the first time!" Rhysand protested, his hands on his hips as he looked down at his son, who was throwing snow in the air.
"We just got out here," Feyre assured him. "I promise that you haven't missed much."
"He's an infant, Rhys."
"I don't even know how to build a snow fort," Feyre laughed, shaking her head.
Rhysand's head snapped to his wife. "I can't believe I married a woman who can't make a snow fort."
"You also reproduced with that woman," Feyre added. Rhysand narrowed his eyes at her. "What if our child doesn't know how to build a snow fort?"
"Unacceptable," Rhysand said, shaking his head. "Everyone should know how to build a snow fort, straight out of the womb."
Feyre's head fell back as she laughed. With the snow falling down around her, she took that extra step toward her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Teach me how to build a snow fort?"
"I would be honored," Rhysand muttered, his arms going around his wife as he kissed her softly. "It's his first snow."
"I know," Feyre breathed. "Do you think he likes it?"
They both looked at Nyx who sat in the snow, his gloves holding up a pile of fluffy whiteness. He looked at it in awe.
They watched him and watched him, watched the innocence of a little human discovering something for the very first time. It was like the snow was gold and Nyx had just discovered it.
"Yeah," Rhysand whispered, his hands still around his wife. "I think he likes it."
Feyre would never get enough of motherhood. She would never tire of watching Nyx explore, would never tire of watching him grow and learn. It was beautiful, watching his mind expand.
And it was even more beautiful watching it unfold, watching him grow beside her partner, her husband, her snow-obsessed other half.
modern daemyra + “stuck together during the snow storm” trope
Chapter 5 of Do No Harm finally near ready to post. Good lord.
Can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get this one done. Anyway, it’ll be a good one (I hope!)
(catch up on the first four chapters!)