#'That looks like something I could weave a basket with yeah'

[wammys-house-official]

hey Mello, have you heard about that guy who makes all sorts of cool structures and things out of chocolate? I forgot his name, but there's entire tags dedicated to him on this website and I think you would like it!

Are you talking about Amaury Guichon because oh my god I love that guy

If there's a guy doing this that I'm not aware of tell me his name please

[icewindandboringhorror]

oh my god.. a job for me.. historical pierrot beach performer lol

[viridescentelf]

Yeah uhh can you make yandere fae and yn female nsfw??

hiii! :) i wasn't too sure what you meant by "fae", but i just made him an elf with wings haha.

Warning: 18+, nsfw, non-con, touching in sleep, obsessive behavior

-----

You were wandering through the forest as a sunset slowly formed. The orange rays enveloped the trees with a sense of wonder, the small specks of dust and flower seeds snowing in the light.

You loved coming here at this time of day, sometimes you got lucky and met fascinating creatures. More often than you’d like to admit, you were unlucky and had to run like a maniac back home to avoid the clutching fangs of an angry predator.  

Not knowing what today’s excursion would bring, you trailed through your usual route, foraging some mushrooms and fruits you found along the way. It was fun to experiment with new ingredients you discovered here. Although you had regretted finding that green looking one a while back. It had made you convulse and hallucinate all night long.

Sliding down by the roots of the big tree you visited often, you examined your findings. What a lucky harvest this was: so many precious berries and meaty shrooms. You couldn’t wait to test them out. Listening to the gentle whistle of the wind through the large trees, you felt your body yearn for a brief respite. You had been hiking for hours today and with more vigor than your previous visits. You had barely slept the night before, so your body was exhausted. A short nap would help you get back home safely. Surely this area was safe enough.

Burying yourself in your coat and leaning back against the mossy trunk, you felt yourself slowly drift away into the kind embrace of sleep. The air in this forest was odd, as if weaved with sprites of calm or surrounding by a strange bubble that made everything feel so breezy. The soft wind bristled across your face, providing the comfort of coldness.

You didn’t know it, but you were always followed when you entered the woods. Not just by predators or curious little animals, but by something you only believed existed in old tales. He had been watching you behind a nearby tree, blushing excessively when you bent over to pick up any items you were collecting.

He had discovered you a while back, while he was attending to a group of withered trees that cried for attention. His ears had picked up on something stumbling. As he turned, he saw you had plopped over a large root, the interior of your little basket had spilled on the ground and you were carefully picking your findings back up. His keen fae eyes could see quite a long way, but even from the distance he was completely enamored with you. He had tolerated humans walking around this forest for eons: he loved scaring them when they were being disrespectful. But you…the way your face lit up when you found something that sparked your interest. You were the first visitor to make his nascent wings jitter.

You were asleep. This hadn’t happened before. He was normally so distraught when he saw you make your way home, not being able to follow you further. He needed to stay in his realm and couldn’t enter yours.

He felt his body move closer towards you. He needed to look at you up close, a chance he may never get again. The fae had never interacted with a human before, unless it was to taunt them out of his home. Your bodies were much different from his kinds, it was truly a marvel to him.

Your face was tilted slightly to the side, breathing deeply in and out, your arms hanging loosely in your lap. He crouched down and stared at you, examining your features. How glorious your face was, so different from his. The glittering lips seemed to call him forward. He hadn’t seen a human like you before. Normally, they disgusted him. You made him feel dizzy.

With a shaky hand, he stretched his arm towards you, gently brushing your cheek. Your skin was so soft and chilled due to the evening air. You were completely still, the rest direly needed, except the gently lifting of your chest as you breathed in and out. His eyes wandered down to your neck, rippling down to your slow-moving breasts that created little mountains in your coat.

Without thinking, the hand on your cheek drifted down your neck and glided over the peaks on your chest. Noticing you didn’t seem to feel his touch in your slumber, he dared to squeeze slightly. His body felt hot, how soft they were. His other hand joined and cupped your other breast, pushing them together. He clasped them a bit harder, letting out involuntary raspy moans at how amazing this felt. He wanted to see what they felt like without your garment, but he was too afraid you’d wake and run if he attempted to remove it. You let out a soft, breathy, moan at his touch, but remained still. His body was shaking, wanting to relieve himself all over you.

Still squishing your breasts intensely in his hands, he rocked himself forward. His face was now so close to yours and he inhaled your unique scent. You smelled so amazing; it made him want to taste you. He felt your calm breath on his ethereal skin, it made his wings flutter in anticipation. Did you have body parts for pleasure? Was that something he could even do with you?

He was so close; his breath was intermingling with yours. One more short movement and he would taste you.

His lips grazed yours. He felt his lower half explode with excitement.

Your eyes were fluttering and panic joined in with his pleasure. You stirred. Your eyes barely opened and you saw a divine visage before you, bright and starry eyes peering into yours. Before you could fully open them and decide if this was still a dream or reality, the fae had fled. Flying frantically through the dense foliage, he settled on a high branch obscured by the fading light and dark branches, still able to see you from afar. Did you see him? Did he scare you?

You rubbed your eyes and looked around you. There was no sign of anyone. You let out a big yawn and decided that you probably hadn’t finished dreaming yet, seeing that beautiful face before you.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your backside, you picked up your basket and satchel to make your way home.

The fae’s breath halted seeing you leave. He wanted you to stay. He had been so close to tasting you, he would never get that chance again.

He looked around frantically. What could he do to prevent you from leaving?

You were walking swiftly. The sun was almost completely gone and you didn’t want to be in the woods at night. Folk warned that the faeries would get you, perhaps an old wives’ tale, but you never knew. Plus, there were predators here anyway.

Suddenly, you heard a crash and a whimper. Turning to the noise, you thought you saw large, translucent wings, flapping weakly behind a bush. The sounds seemed pitiful. Hurt.

You approached carefully and pushed the branches aside.

Before you, lay a creature you had only seen illustrated in fantasy novels.

He looked up at you, unable to stop his face from blushing again, pretending to have hurt himself from a fall.

This plan had to work.

[cgogs]

all i wanted | c!dnf oneshot | 4k c!George breaks c!Dream out of prison and tries to fashion a normal life.

secret santa for @rglozwriter (happy holidays! i hope you enjoy!!)

George has never once in his whole life thought of himself as a hero. He could count on one hand, maybe two, the number of times he ever came close. 

When he saved a little girl from the wolves. Oh, but he was rather little as well, and just as terribly afraid as her. So maybe it doesn’t count. When he restored clean water to a dirty river village— oh, he’d only broken the dam to help Dream, and that’s far too selfish in nature to be considered heroic. He hadn’t done it on purpose. 

And that’s precisely the problem, George isn’t sure he’s done anyone any tremendous good on purpose, and furthermore out of the pure goodness of his heart. He doesn’t think that makes him a bad person, not everyone is meant to be a hero. Not everyone has the heart for it. 

It was always Dream who was the hero. In all their childhood adventures, Dream was the one who would have them stop in their path to help the needy, the sick, the suffering. George was the one who would try and fail to get some sense through his head. It’s not that he’s a bad person, he just didn’t think they were in the means to be heroes, needy, starving, and sick as they were. 

But Dream had a habit of being a hero, and it’s one that didn’t break until they settled down. Until they invited more people into their lives. George watched that heart of gold dull and hide itself away. The heroism didn’t leave, it just turned itself into something else. And it was unfortunate because no matter how much George protested his selflessness (because it was so often at the cost of his wellbeing and safety), it was something that he truly loved about him. His hero.

It’s half of why George doubts the reality of his situation. It can’t be. Because George would never claw his way through obsidian in the water like a half-drowned rat to save someone. He would never put his own neck on the line for someone else. He would never do something so stereotypically heroic, something straight out of a book. 

He stares at Dream, sitting on the floor weaving a basket from flax and reeds. 

Dream once called him a selfish damsel. It was a joke, but George didn’t think it was untrue. Well, the damsel part was untrue. Mostly. Maybe. Their scoreboard of saving each other is… uneven. Breaking Dream out of Pandora has to count for fifty tallies. George demands it.

George is in his weirdness again. The heavy state between sleeping and waking, where he doubts everything he sees. Dreaming, he dares to think. How many times has he dreamt about saving Dream? Saving Dream and convincing him to run away? Too many times. And he remembers the feeling of waking up after all too well. The heartache and disappointment and hatred for everything and everyone.

The memories of walking the halls of the prison seem so distant, filled with water and oil. They seem impossible. 

Dream pinches himself and hisses, the half-done weave unfurling slightly as his hands recoil. He checks his fingers as if they were cut. George takes too long to react.

“Are you okay?” he says finally. Dream looks up at him, green eyes shining. He looks embarrassed.

“Yeah, no, yeah. I just cut myself a little.” Dream’s voice is soft and a little embarrassed in a way that makes George’s heart stop and start again. It peels one layer of fog off his mind. “Good morning. How long have you been standing there?”

Dream is nervous and awkward like a new roommate. It could be appropriate if they haven’t loved each other all their lives. Well, George never actually got confirmation if that’s wholly true. Dream could have stopped loving him for a little while there. But he’s at least mostly sure that Dream loves him now. Hopefully not just for saving him. 

George blinks, looking around. His feet are deathly cold in the doorway. Dream sits in front of the fire weaving his basket, and the world outside is pure white with snow. George comes to sit with him, vision glossy, like the world was smeared with grease.

“I dunno,” he answers, too late, “I just woke up.”

Dream pulls the pile of flax and reeds and willow to the side to make space for him. George pulls his blanket further around himself, rubbing his eyes. He’s sitting on a couple crumbs of dried plants but he’s decided he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to move to fix it. Luckily for him, Dream notices and pulls the bent reed out from under him. George mumbles a gratitude. 

“Are you okay?” Dream asks. He doesn’t cast his voice like he used to. He’s quiet these days.

“Uh… yeah.” 

“Are you feeling weird? The soup?”

George laughs a little like it’s the first time he’s heard him call it that. All the memories come to him a few moments too late. Yes, right, this is a common occurrence. George’s smile drops in a way that’s too obvious. Dream frowns at him.

George is remembering himself. The heroics he thinks of as so alien aren’t quite so against his nature as he thought. It’s just that they only show their face if it’s for Dream. It doesn’t make him a hero, he’s still a selfish prick, but it means this is all a little more real than before. He’s remembering more and more as he wakes up, feeling more and more grounded. 

“Do I need to, um… do anything for you?” Dream asks. George hates how he asks for things now. Like he isn’t sure how to be a person anymore. This time isn’t as bad as others, but sometimes just the questioning quirk of his voice will make him sad. “I can jog your memory again. Or I can get your journal–”

George replies too fast. “I don’t want you to get up.”

“Okay. Um… this is our house,”

“I know this is our house.” George rolls his eyes.

“Okay. How about you just ask me, then.” Dream picks his basket weave back up, setting to work tightening the braids that went loose while he wasn’t holding it down. George feels bad snapping at him, even if it wasn’t much. He rubs his knuckles on Dream’s wrist as an apology. The little nod he gets back means it was accepted. It’s always nice to know Dream still remembers their old rituals. 

“I’m just, um… it doesn’t feel real.” George leans his head on the edge of the coffee table, the one Dream pushed up against the couch to make room for his weaving. George lets his eyes get lost in the braids and patterns, following the maze of reed. He thinks Dream must be planning to use it as a fish trap– he’s always been partial to pike. “I don’t remember how we got here.”

This must happen more often than George thinks, because all of the concern he was expecting is pushed to the back of Dream’s mind. He watches it happen. 

“You broke me out of prison. We’re waiting out the winter until summer, and then deciding what we want to do.” Dream’s voice is a practiced calm, like reciting a textbook. “You want me to stay. I want to tie up loose ends.”

“Why are you here… if you don’t want to be here?”

“I can’t do anything in the state I’m in right now.” Dream almost-laughs, only letting out a small sardonic snicker. The details of his face and body finally load in George’s mind, suddenly, as if they only just now took form, and he feels so stupid for not noticing before. The skinniness of his body, the scars on his arms, the two prosthetic fingers. Having just woken up is the culprit, it dulls his senses and replaces them with delusions. Or maybe he’s simply gotten used to the way he looks, and his hindbrain took no issue. “And you keep my bedroom door bolted from the outside.”

“What? Is that true?”

Dream smiles at him. “No.” 

“You’re an ass.” 

“I know.”

“So– how? How did I get you out?” George tries to imagine it. Clad in shiny armor with a formidable weapon, a getaway horse and a real plan. It’s just not him, even if it was for Dream’s sake.

“I don’t know.” He says it in a way that suggests he wishes he did. “You were– weird. Like this. And sopping wet, and like… sleepwalking.”

“How long ago?”

“Um… it was when the trees were just starting to turn orange.”

He’s not good with time. George groans, rubbing his eyes still. His memories are slow to appear, but they do. It’s not cause for huge celebration. They fade in and reveal themselves at his prompting like the tide reveals the stones.

He looks around at their house, hidden somewhere deep in the tundra. Nobody for miles. He remembers Dream, in a state, hiding food and weapons in every nook and cranny he could finagle. He thinks of it as safe. Dream feels, to some degree, safe here. That makes George happy.

“I remember.” George nods. 

“It’s not very complicated.”

“Everything with you is complicated.”

Dream rolls his eyes. He’s farther away from the fire than George– and then a memory hits him, one of Dream in that cell. Cowering from the heat, eyes big like dinner plates. He went off his head, if his memory serves. Begged him to leave: he couldn’t be here, he has to leave, he wasn’t real…

He remembers guiding him through the tunnels and corridors by the hand, leading in front and pulling him along. He was so skinny he weighed nearly nothing, and when he protested and tried to yank away, George was able to keep him in his grip. Which meant that there was something very very wrong with him.

Dream has asked him, over and over, how he’d managed to get in and out, and George has never been able to tell him. He still isn’t able. He truly doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s made it a habit to always get what he wants. Maybe something in the universe finally bowed to that will. 

And in true fashion to tradition, when he got what he wanted, Dream was the one who had to figure out the logistics of their situation. What they were going to eat, where they were going to go. If you heard Dream tell it, you’d think George fainted or something as soon as they could look back over their shoulders and not see Pandora’s Vault any longer. But Dream just doesn’t remember the nitty gritty of it. George remembers holding him close to his chest while the sirens went off for hours, felt like days. They hid like foxes in a hole in the ground. 

Dream is paranoid. He’s always been paranoid but it’s worse than ever. It’s not like George can blame him. It’s just different. And ‘different’ is neither bad nor good, but it certainly means ‘not the same.’ 

George knows he’s changed too. He doesn’t know the exact ways how, or if it’s anything like how Dream has changed, but he knows Dream isn’t the only one who’s different. They’ve been making it work, regardless.

Sometimes he catches Dream staring at him when he thinks he can’t see him, or when he thinks George is asleep. He looks at him with something sick– something so grateful and reverent it’s awful. A new cog in his hero– he’s been well trained by someone else. It makes him angry. Possessive in ways he’s too ashamed to let materialize. He can’t let himself feel good about the way Dream looks at him now.

Dream takes his new fish trap and gets them a pike and a rabbit. Presumably not caught with the fish trap. By the time he comes home, George is at his wits again. The journal helps, notes his fully-awake self writes for his sleepy-self so they’re both on the same page. It was Dream’s idea. They both have one– George isn’t proud of it, but he reads through Dream’s every time he leaves the house.

Today, he reads through Dream’s before he even cracks open his own. Dream writes about his week, the things he’s been eating and when. Sometimes George is blessed to read his own name. 

george has been remembering easier lately. i should be waking him up earlier

The guilt from invading Dream’s privacy washes away when he opens his own journal and sees Dream’s annotated his latest entry in green ink. They’re equally in each other’s business, and that makes his day. The entry itself is mortifying, but George would be lying if he said he didn’t secretly wish Dream would read it and answer him.

I don’t know if we’re still together. don’t act like it because if he weirdchamps me again i’ll kill you 

^ when did i weirdchamp you?

They eat fish together with nothing to talk about. Dream’s been doing better, too. With touch and being less… like he’s always in a crisis. They’re sleeping in the same bed again. Dream preferred the floor for a long time. 

In the middle of the night George wakes slightly to the feeling of kisses being planted to the back of his neck, down his spine and over his shoulders. Dream pulls aside his shirt to reach his skin and everything. George smiles where he can’t see.

Since it’s winter, they don’t have a lot of vegetables. Sometimes Dream brings back a pumpkin from god knows where– George suspects Techno, but it’s not like Dream tells him anything. They have some berry bushes in the backyard, good for juice and pie. 

Dream says he finds peace in hunting. George can’t imagine how, but he goes with him sometimes and it seems to be true. Maybe it’s easier for him to focus his thoughts. George isn’t sure. George is just a half-functioning damsel, after all. He’s useful for skill shots and skinning the rabbits, at least. It’s hard sometimes, sitting around and letting Dream do everything. 

It’s how it used to be, but… well, it’s just different now. George frequently finds himself out of character. He wants to be useful– it seems like Dream has grown a love for useful things. He wants to be in that category. He wants to be all the things Dream loves and deems important. If only he’d let him in whatever hell he’s thrown himself into.

“I love you,” Dream says one night, in the hallowed hall they call their bedroom. Where the deepest secrets are confessed. It takes George by surprise, lungs and heart still racing. He’s not quite all-there after fooling around for so long. He blinks, processing the joy, the accomplishment– but also the exhaustion. He turns his head to look at Dream, hair messy, like gold threads on the pillows. “I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry for that?”

He shrugs hopelessly. “I just think it puts you in a bad spot.”

“Ugh, I don’t care.” George rolls into his chest. It’s all too cold without him. “I want to be there. In the bad spot.”

An arm comes to wrap around his back and hold him close. A soft kiss is planted to his bruised mouth, already sore and bit from kissing all night. George is quickly becoming too sleepy to stay awake. Maybe Dream knows that, maybe he can feel the magic in the air when George starts to slip away. He presses his cold, cold hand to Dream’s heart. He wishes he could pull it out and keep it safe. Keep him.

“I wish you knew what was good for you.”

“I don’t have to. That’s your job.” George mumbles against his lips. Dream doesn’t kiss him again, lowering his head to let him rest. “I know what’s good for you.”

“Do you really think that?”

“I know that.”

As time passes and the worst of winter is over, George can’t help but pray for the frost to stay. In Dream’s journal, he writes about the steps he’ll take when he goes back home. He still calls it home. George’s eyes sting with tears as he closes it and tucks it away. 

At dinner, George doesn’t sit. Dream doesn’t sit either, despite food already plated for him. He knows what it’s about. 

“Are you really going to leave again?”

“...yes. When summer comes.”

George leans back against the counter. “Are you going to come back?”

“I want you to stay here. It’s, safe here.”

“But you won’t come back?”

Dream looks stressed almost instantly. George can’t bring himself to feel bad. His heart is too close to breaking, even though Dream never promised him anything, so it really isn’t fair to him. 

“I won’t promise you anything. For your sake,” Dream runs a hand through his hair, and George scoffs, “But I want to come back. Until this is all over. And– and when it’s over, we can be together all the time!”

“Is that what you want?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

George’s crossed arms fall to his sides. His mind is full of cotton. He pronounces his words emphatically. “I want to be what you want. If you’ll only come see me out of– pity, then don’t bother.”

“That’s not what I said,”

“You’re barely saying anything! Do you not feel like you owe me anything? I don’t– I won’t ask for a lot, I just, I just thought–”

“Okay, okay, George, please, just listen to me.” Dream is in his space now, which is unusual. It makes his spikes lower. Dream is trying. “I’ll– I’ll come see you. I promise.”

And there’s that look again. The one where his eyes train on George, hyper focused on his expression and body language. The one that feels like all the devotion and obedience in his body rise to the surface to prove that they’re still there. It makes his skin crawl. 

“I just– I can’t have you involved. I can’t. I got a taste of it months ago and I can’t ever feel that way again.” Dream lowers himself. For a second George thinks he’s going to drop to his knees and the mere thought makes his stomach invert. But Dream’s posture only bends, eye to eye as he pleads with him. “You understand that, right? Please.”

“Dream, stop, I’m not– you’re not–” 

In trouble, he wants to say. But as it stands, that isn’t true. Dream is very much in trouble with him. Should he change that? How can he reach inside himself to turn his heart off and talk to him like a normal person? Or should he accept the reverence, should he think it appropriate?

No, he shouldn’t. Because it isn’t his. This isn’t what he trained Dream to do. This isn’t anything like their old rituals. Or maybe it holds remnants, he can recognize some of it, but it’s become corrupted now. It’s not an affection he can accept, because it wasn’t written with him in mind. He’s not Dream’s authority. He may want Dream to obey him, bend to his will, but George knows the subtle differences between love and obedience.

“Dream. It’s okay. I just, I don’t…” He looks to the window, then to the floor, desperately avoiding his eyes. “I don’t want you to act like I don’t exist. Okay. That’s all I want.”

“I love you.” Dream says. “I just want to keep you safe.”

A subtle confession. Abandoning him was all in the name of keeping him safe. George almost laughs. It’s so stereotypically heroic, so self sacrificial. George should have ironed out the heroics in him when they were younger, when he still had the chance. 

“We’re not good people.” George looks at him. “I wish you’d stop acting like it. You don’t have to go back. You don’t owe anything to anyone.”

“I owe everything to everyone.”

“And you want me to stay here. You’ll come by when you need a warm body, right?” He says it like it’s a deal he wouldn’t gladly accept. 

“I will come by when I can. You know. When it’s safe. And we can do anything you want.”

“Don’t make it sound like– like I’m renting you!”

He steps on one of the hair triggers that rule over Dream’s frustration. George thinks it’s a victory. “How do you want it to sound? I’m really trying here!”

“I want it to sound like you actually want to be with me, you ass.”

“I do!” Dream says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it is, and George just can’t see it from this angle. “I have responsibilities that aren’t– negotiable.”

George doesn’t understand why he’s fighting this. Maybe he’s scared of what will happen if there’s no one around to wake him. Maybe he’s ambitious enough to think he can haggle a better deal. The strength it takes to fight with Dream is quickly leaving him. It’s a great arrangement. More than he could ask for just half a year ago. Something he clawed through obsidian to obtain. 

He’s seen the leash prison put on him. He’s held it, even. Pulled on it, led Dream around with it. George has decided he doesn’t want it. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it takes the words out of Dream’s mouth, whatever he was going to say. “You have no idea what it was like to be without you. I can’t do it again.”

“I promise–” 

“I trust you.” George’s eyes are furrowed and serious. “But I can’t wait until it’s all over.”

If he can’t make Dream see how futile this all is, then it’s something he’ll have to discover himself. But George won’t wait another two years for it to happen. 

It’s the spring after their winter together, and George hasn’t seen Dream in two months. He knows because he’s been tallying it in his journal, which has seen an uptick in use without a roommate. 

Techno visited, once. Gave him supplies. They must be closer than they thought, George somewhere on the fringes of the tundra where the four seasons are allowed to exist– watered down as they are. It pissed him off more than it should have– of course Dream would send someone else before he came to do it himself. 

Maybe he’s making a name for himself again. Maybe he’s in hot water and can’t come, or he’ll be followed. It’s not like George gets a lot of news out here. He’s slept through days straight, he’s sure of it.

He’s pouting at the ceiling, in the middle of some pessimistic bratty rant about his life when he hears that stupid knock Dream does on everything. It knocks the gloom straight out of his chest. He races down the stairs, everything in the world leagues and bounds less important than opening the door. 

Dream stands in his mask, a light smattering of snow on his hood and cloak. George reaches to pull him in by the neck before Dream can even get a word out. A promise kept. He’s halfway through pulling his mask off when George jumps up to hug him. The force of it makes them both wobble. 

“Are you real?” George asks in his shoulder. He almost doesn’t believe it. An armored hand rubs his back. 

“Yeah,” Dream’s voice rumbles in his chest, vibrations sending through George’s bones. It’s his new favorite feeling. 

George pulls away. He interrupted the de-masking process, so half his face is still covered. It looks stupid. It’s George’s new favorite thing. 

George couldn’t care less about the gift. It's nice, and he'll use it every day, but all joys are overshadowed by the presence of the man in his home– even if covered in dirt and scorch marks as he is. If he could choose any gift, he’d wanted a burner comm that he would be allowed to message him from, but the quilt is nice. George leaves it folded on the kitchen table, all pleasantries said and done with. Yes, he loves it, it’s beautiful, I love the color green. 

He pushes himself up to kiss him. He tastes like gunpowder and blood. It’s George’s new favorite taste. 

[whyareyouhere66]

I feel like it’s been forever since a new Harry Potter fic was written, so I’m here to request(if u feel like writing it ofc<3)!

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Male!reader where reader likes to admire him from the background, but word gets out that they have a crush on him. Reader gets picked on for it because “why would Draco Malfoy of all people go for a Hufflepuff boy?”. U can choose what direction it goes in 👀 (unless you want me be more direct then I can add on to it!)

Yes! I’m here for it- hope you enjoy <3

Also, prefacing this by saying I don’t at all like Rowling or support her bullshit, this is just a cute request id like to do

CW: teasing directed towards reader, reader is like half an inch shorter than Draco (something like that, just for context) unedited (I’ll do it soon I promise) and makeout scene (spoilersssss uh oh)

x

Sound booms across the length of the long walls, the bustling Great Hall full of kids across grades eating their meals. Chicken, mashed potatoes, loafs spread out in baskets, it’s like a thanksgiving meal.

The sun, high in the sky, shines through the tall windows and creates a natural light to outshine the various floating candles. Down at one of the various tables, the Hufflepuff children sit at the wooden table and talk.

“I don’t think he understood the assignment, either.”

“He’s the one who wrote it!”

“Exactly the issue-“

Y/n, accompanied by F/n, sits across from another group at the decorated table. A yellow and black scarf sits loosely around his s/c shoulders, a few rings wrapped around his fingers. He takes another bite from his plate, listening to F/n and another student bicker quietly- the slightest pull of a smile rising on his lips. 

“You guys still talking about Snape?” He asks, eyeing the two. They both nod.

“He’s so grumpy all the time, Y/n,” F/n complains, jutting his chin towards the stone faced man across the room. Y/n chuckles and shakes his head.

“Snape always knows what he’s doing.” He says, planning to check out of the conversation when words of disagreement are thrown his way. 

Y/n moves to keep watching his friends- but his eyes flicker.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the platinum blonde hair his eyes always seem to catch. And suddenly, his friends’ words are but mush against his ears.

Draco sits at the Slytherin table, green banners hanging above his head just like the yellow ones above Y/n’s. 

He has a normal scowl, that would dull anyone else’s face if it weren’t his. As his friends continue to talk, though, his eyebrow lifts and a smooth smirk almost replaces it.

And oh, how pretty his lips are.

Y/n wishes he could hide the thoughts as they ring in his head, wishing his small smile wasn’t such a giveaway.

“Y/n? Did we lose you again?” The girl across the table asks, bangs falling into her face. Grace, is her name. 

“Yeah, you look distracted.” F/n snickers, nudging Y/n’s elbow because unlike the others, he knows exactly where his best friend’s gaze is lingering. 

Blood rushes to Y/n’s face, realizing how obvious he had been just now. 

“I’m fine.” He insists, elbowing F/n right back. The others shrug it off, not noticing how one last glance is shot towards Draco.

Lunch is closer to wrapping up when Y/n notices the time- 1:48. 

“Oh, wait-“ he looks over at F/n. “Man, we gotta go-“  

At this, the boy looks at the time and nods. They both grab their things, wishing goodbye to their friends- Ms. McGonagall would be expecting a finished project in the next hour. 

They weave through the students crowded  around tables, holding their bags close to their hips to take less room. Getting out early gets them more time, though their project was nearly done anyways Ms. McGonagall really talked this one up. 

Stepping out through the giant wooden doors, Y/n breathes out.

“Alright, you have the-“ his words are cut short when someone steps into his path. 

Looking up, he finds 3 people standing in front of him, having bumped into the first one. They’re all from Slytherin. 

“Sorry, didn’t see you.” He tries to step around them, but the boy in front recognizes him and suddenly seems very interested.

“Wait a minute,” he steps in front of Y/n again, “Y/n.” His name on this strange boy’s tongue doesn’t sound like a question, honestly it feels threatening. Y/n furrows his eyebrows, and steps back.

“Uh, yeah?” There’s an intimidating look in the Slytherin boy’s eye- one that not even his friends know the reason for. They, as well as F/n, watch curiously.

“Aren’t you that Hufflepuff that has a crush on Malfoy?”

What.

Y/n’s heart stops, his eyes widen. Who is this kid? 

“Huh?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t seen anything,” confidence seems to build in the boys voice, the look on Y/n’s face coming as confirmation for his words. “You’re always making puppy eyes at him- oh, I so knew it!” 

The excitement in this boy’s voice is strange- was he betting on this? Does he not realize how creepy that feels?

“Wait, slow down,” one of the Slytherin’s step forward, wrapping her head around the news, “you like Malfoy? Really?”

Y/n doesn’t like the tone of her voice.

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy?” She scoffs, “oh please.”

Y/n feels too exposed, like he’s suddenly being poked and prodded from under a microscope. 

How had they found out? 

Who else knows? 

He looks at F/n, eyes screaming for help. Another minute here, when kids could walk around the corner at any moment, hear his secret slowly leaking from the safety of his own self, and he might explode.

“You guys are on something strong, aren’t you?” F/n swoops in, trying to play it off and Y/n makes a mental note to remind the boy how grateful he is for him in a moment.

“Quit projecting, will you? Pathetic, really.” F/n says, though avoids any eye contact with the three. He shoves Y/n’s shoulder, who stumbles, and leads him away as quickly as possible. 

By the time they get to the library, Y/n’s head is already swimming, mainly from embarrassment. 

He never wanted anyone to know- he still doesn’t want that. This little “crush” was supposed to stay between him and F/n, for that was the only person he ever trusted to carry it. 

But now? With some smug Slytherin boy walking around with his feelings cupped in the palm of his hand? Y/n’s lost his safety rail. Now, his feelings are vulnerable, ready to be spilled to Draco at any second. 

Two hands hold his shoulders firmly, he recognizes them as F/n’s. No surprise, considering there’s barely any one else in the library right now. Y/n’s eyes dart to meet his.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, and it takes an extra moment for the e/c eyed boy to come up with an answer.

“I think so.” He says, nodding. F/n copies the gesture.

“Good, that’s good. I’m sure not that many people know, ok?” He reassures Y/n, who’s grateful for the words as they bring back some stability. 

“Right.” 

Now that he’s out of that boys uncomfortable gaze, he doesn’t feel as panicked as he did before. More so, unsettled. 

“Right, yeah, uh- let’s get back to the project.” With the nod of his head, and one last look, F/n is agreeing. The two boys sit down at one of the many tables, between two tall bookshelves. 

‘Maybe it’s ok,’ Y/n thinks to himself, ‘not that many people know.’

**

You realize now, that you spoke too soon.

The next day comes, and you’re now standing in the bathroom wasting away time that’s supposed to be spent in Snape’s potions class. It’s empty, aside from you of course, nothing but the sound of a running faucet. 

It’s so quiet that when the door creaks open, people stepping inside, your head snaps to the side, startled. 

It’s two boys, both from Gryffindor, named Avery and Jaxon and you immediately recognize them from a few classes. You turn back to the sink. 

Neither of them look at you, instead disappearing into two of the stalls. 

By the time they’re both out of the stalls, you’re washing the final suds from your hands. From the mirror, you see their faces change, realizing who you are. 

The air becomes unnecessarily tense, you’re unsure why, both of the boys are trying to pretend otherwise. 

Avery and Jax glance at each other, walking to the sinks. And it’s not until Avery decides to speak, that the silence is again broken.

“Hey, um-“ you look at him, “I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but…” he looks hesitant to speak, like what he say might come off as offensive, something sensitive. Your curiosity only grows. 

“Is it true, that you and Draco are dating?”

You nearly choke.

“What?” You asks, hating that this is the 2nd time Draco has been brought up to you. 

“I mean, I heard that-“ Avery seems to notice the growing worry plastered on your face- it’s spreading. Your secret is spreading.

“Oh,” Avery begins to realize, “sorry, Y/n, that was a bit invasive.” His tone is calm, only slightly uncomfortable. Pretty much the opposite to you- itching to drop the conversation. But, you keep a calm face, shoving the gross feelings down. 

“No it’s fine, um, why?” You can only hope your voice doesn’t give everything away. 

“Oh, I just thought I heard a couple Slytherin kids talking about it.” Again, his voice feels too nonchalant. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Oh.” The slightest shake. Unlike Avery, though, Jax still seems interested.

“Wait- do you like him though?” This results in an elbow to rib, and Avery looks at him like a mother scolding their child.

“Ow!-“ Jax grunts, glaring yet ignoring the hint, “I’m just asking. You know about the Slytherins and Huffs’.” 

“They just…” his eyes dart right back to yours, “they just don’t go together, man.” You hate the way he says it- hate how it feels like you’re being scolded, looked down on. Looking down at the yellow and black robes draped across your shoulder, you avoid Jaxon’s gaze. 

Which, in hindsight, gives enough of an answer.

The two Gryffindors shuffle out of the bathroom, and immediately you let out a groan. 

You’re fucked. 

Hands run down your face in exasperation- this wasn’t supposed to get out. Draco probably knows now, people think that you’re dating. 

The unusually large bathroom echoes mumbled curses back to you, silence so eery it feels haunting. You feel yourself  beginning to doubt if you should even return to potions class- knowing Draco is sitting at the desk a few feet from yours. 

“They just don’t go together, man…”

“A Hufflepuff? Liking Malfoy? Oh, please…”

Another sigh.

You feel your fingers pressing into your eyelids, passing over your temples and the wrinkles above your nose.

‘He’s gonna hate me’

Such a childish thought, but once it appeared you felt a sickening feeling in your chest because oh, how you wish he doesn’t. 

Outside, footsteps echo in the hallway. 

And Draco himself, walks down the corridor towards the boy’s bathroom, taking his time with the silence. It’s a much better option, compared to Snape’s incessant grumbling. 

He’s been trying to think the whole day- but is only now getting the chance thanks to that little posse of his.

For hours now, whenever given the chance, his mind drifts back to the conversations from early this morning at breakfast.

“Have you heard?” Pansy leans over the table, one eyebrow raised as if she’s careful of listening ears. Though, to that she doesn’t spare a second thought.

Blaise narrows his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Heard what?” He asks, and Draco impatiently looks at her.

“What now.” The blonde already doesn’t care, Pansy always seems to find some sort of gossip across houses. But this time, she’s sending a smirk right his way.

“Some little Hufflepuff has a crush on you.”

Now, to this, Draco does perk up- and his eyes flicker in your direction for only a moment. But, he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge it. 

“Mhm.” Pansy sounds so smug in her words, satisfied as both boys lean closer to her.

“Who?” Blaise asked, the roughness behind his voice covering any curiosity. 

“Y/n L/n.”

Draco looks bewildered for a second- you?  He never thought it was actually you, that was only a spark of hope in a moment of weakness. He was prepared to hear the name of some random girl he hadn’t learned the name of before- but the familiar ring of your name brought satisfaction to follow the shock.

He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that shows through. Beside him, Blaise scoffs.

“You’re joking”. He says, and Draco shoots him a glare.

“What? It’s no surprise,” he says cockily, “jealousy’s never a good look”. The meaningless comeback earns a glare and an eye roll from Blaise- and surprises Pansy. 

“Draco,” she narrows her eyes, “do you like this? Him?” She gives him a once-over, checking to see if he’s serious. He is.

Draco doesn’t give a straight answer, though, instead scoffing and going back to his plate. 

“Get a life, why don’t you. Your gossip is boring me.” He says- but there’s the slightest pull at his lips, smiling your way.

Draco pushes open the large door, stepping inside the bathroom and immediately- his eyes land on you.

“Y/n?” 

Your head snaps up, and a new feeling sinks into your stomach when you see him. You can’t tell if you wish it was someone else, or if this is perhaps what you were hoping for.

“Uh, hey.”

Draco steps closer, and you can see some sort of glint in his eyes, and you can’t quite name the warm yet uneasy feeling that follows.

“Skipping Snape’s class now, are we?” He teases in a smug voice, and your blood aches in your cheeks. 

“Just taking a break-“ you don’t look at him, using a towel to wipe off your hands. You simply want to play it cool in front of him, though you’re unsure considering the past two times you seem to have failed.

“A break, hmm? I’m sure.” He says sarcastically.

Instead of picking a stall, like you expected, you watch from the corner of your eye as he approaches you and leans on one of the sinks.

“So,” 

You freeze. 

‘Don’t say it..’

“There seems to be a bit of a rumor spreading around.” 

You visibly wince, the moment you prayed would never come has arrived. He found out- and just like the others, he knows that he could never accept a silly school crush from your house.

Turned away, you’re unable to see the smirk on his face- but you can hear it in his voice.

“Draco…” you mumble, feeling the dread of what his response is going to be. He’s closer now, you feel it- and suddenly his figure is right beside you. 

“Y’know, if you wanted a date so badly you could’ve asked.”

You pause.

What?

His voice is new, because while there’s still such a teasing tone buried in the words, you notice…hope, as well.

You look at him, and notice his eyes have softened. 

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says, “no need to have waited so long.” He still sounds partially like he’s joking, but his fingers are creeping closer to yours by the sink’s ledge.

The pieces are starting to connect in your head- he hasn’t pushed you away, hasn’t called you any names. In fact- he’s the one getting so close.

Draco watches, examining your face. He’s starting to feel impatient, actually, feeling he’s been clear enough. He doesn’t seem to understand how confusing his words can be- how your beating heart is twisting and unraveling in your chest. He’s too preoccupied with his own churning heart.

“What’re you saying?” You finally ask, and he nearly scoffs.

“Hell, you’re real thick in the head aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even try stopping himself as his hands cup your face, and his lips are molding right into yours.

He’s so quick with it, like he’s been waiting years for this, yet so smooth at the same time. You can feel your eyes as they shoot open, only to hazily fall half closed a moment later. 

His arms loop around your waist, so you were almost bent into his body. You have to take a cautionary step back just to stable yourself, one hand holding his neck, it almost takes you too long to realize he is kissing you. 

‘Holy shit, holy shit holy shit holy shit-‘ your mind races, and it feels like only half of it is functioning. Part of you is swimming, the other half melting into his arms because oh how long have you been waiting to feel him so close. 

He’s smirking into the kiss now, breaking it into quicker, shorter kisses that mesh together to make one, long breathless one. Through the haze of his lips, your hand creeps into his hair and he wonders why he waited so long to experience this.

You tug slightly, other hand grabbing his jaw, and you pull him away.

The room is no longer silent, both of you  catching your breath.

“I’ll take that as your confession, then?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he replies, “meet again after Potions?”

“Sounds good.”

[I hope you all enjoyed- I feel there’s probably more I could’ve added or something, but for now this is good. If anyone wants an add on or more or like a part two let me know!]

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 15

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Yes, it is she. You know her! You love her! The myth. The legend. Your ex-roommate! It's Coral done by the darling @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First ��� Previous

You walked Donnie down the street. You didn’t have a hold on him, but he was using you as a guide since he was conversing with Spencer in his glasses. A series of emails that were being passed that no one from the outside could see and you tried your best to weave him through pedestrians. He had assured you he had done this many times on his own, but his distracted gait made you doubt he had done so without casualty.

Maybe he did have the power to dodge people perfectly at the last second, but you preferred if he made his journey without startling leagues of pedestrians.

You hoped they finished up soon because you were getting close to the street where you would part ways. You had just finished another appointment with Dr. Kuro for your first of many weekly updates. Now marked at nine weeks, you were moving along with better data. Your blood tests confirmed that you were in great human and non-mutated health. Your swabs said that your womb had yokai markers, but none of which was affecting your body as a whole.

It was an oddity that you were just going to have to accept.

Like how your embryo had half an eggshell on it.

Like many other things that were making you nervous, but you didn’t currently have time for.

You needed to guide Donnie.

 “Y/N.” The man in question spoke as if on cue.

“Yeah?”

“Spencer sends cursory greetings and congratulations.”

“Send him one last email telling him I expect a gift basket. A good one.”

“He’s already considered and chose to send flowers.”

“What? They’re tough on your nose in the apartment! The space is too small for the smell!”

“Here.” He held out his hand and a screen appeared.

You took it from him even though you knew he was floating it to you. “What is he thinking…?”

Unlike Donnie, you veered off to the side to stop and read.

One amongst a long email chain, it was a list from Spencer that reminded you of school prizes for meeting fundraising milestones.

For conceiving, you got flowers.

For getting past a certain point in pregnancy, you would get a gift basket.

For securing government surrender, you would receive an all expenses paid hotel visit along with a day trip to a spa that seemed to specialize in pampering pregnant people.

You stared at the last with mounting sarcasm before you looked up to your partner. “You really waste Genius Built funds on this?”

“We have an account specifically for bribing clients.”

“I’m not a client, but I’m glad you’re calling it what it is.”

“Spencer does not.”

“Spencer probably calls it an entertainment expense.”

Donnie’s head tipped to agree. 

“Fuck it. I’ll take it, but tell him to make it live flowers. Have him throw in one of those planters that’ll hang off the fire escape. We’ll put them outside the kitchen window.”

You watched as the window in front of you shot down the email chain and a new message was penned.

You reviewed what your husband wrote. “Gotta play his game. Say something about how hard we’ve worked for this and he’s being a jerk for assuming I’d enjoy a ‘participation trophy’ gift in light of growing a literal life, but make it way less mean.”

It took a few adjustments since Donnie wasn’t nearly as versed in corporate speak, but you got something safe enough to be seen by HR and it was sent.

“What does he think?” You asked as you slipped back onto the sidewalk. “Will the government change their mind?” 

Donnie stayed close to your side. “He’ll find the advantage and make it work.”

You nodded.

“He agrees with Kuro’s determination.”

“You already dropped the ‘doctor?’”

“You’ll be on a first name basis soon.” He spoke with metered affection.

You were inclined to agree since she had given you her personal number both for emergencies and to text any oddities over.

“We’ll part up ahead.” Donnie was clearly looking toward the next intersection.

“What’s your plan for today?”

“Schematics.”

“I bet Spencer has all the marketing ready for your new baby division.” 

He gave a single nod and you approached the curb. “Pass my salutations on to Coral.”

“Will do.” You stepped close to your husband and gave him a quick hug before heading off as the signal turned.

You felt him watch after you before he took his leave down the side of the street. While you had driven to your appointment, it made more sense to walk to your next destination with its proximity. It was a short 10 minutes to where you were meeting your friend. It helped too since you were gradually adding more steps. Instead of diving into some intense exercise regime, you were taking it slow. Your plan to get smoothies fell in a similar line with your diet changes.

You only had a few shops to go, but identified your friend’s messy bun from where you were. She was dressed casually and kicked back against a small fence while staring down at her phone. Her lips pinched in concentration, but her eyes held a lackadaisical quality that said she was reading some rag she didn’t agree with.

“What’s it this time?” You spoke as you stepped into her side.

“They swapped some brand’s packaging for less plastic and everyone’s whining even though we know everyone just throws the box away. Like who cares?” She glanced at you and then back at her phone before offering it.

“Everyone’s gonna complain about something.” You huffed.

“Yep! You’ve heard my mom!” She kicked off the metal railing for a reverberation and got upright.

“What was it last time?” You pondered and led toward the smoothie shop door.

“What wasn’t it?” She scoffed and followed along.

“It was something…” You got in line. “… like she got an ice cream bar and wouldn’t stop talking about how some of the caramel was on the packaging…?”

Coral tossed her head up to the ceiling to groan. “Because mega corp asshole Unilever cares about making each bar identically perfect!”

“She threw out the box, didn’t she?!”

“Yes!” Coral shoved a finger into your arm. “Now she’s the one bad for the environment. The amount of shit she wastes and garbage she buys.”

“What are you getting?”

“I don’t know. These things are glorified desserts. There’s one with moo in the title of something. You?”

“I was thinking the green one. Always wanted to try it.”

“The pseudo-health shit?” Coral cut in front of you to order first.

“You’re only like triple standard territory with all your beauty crap.”

“Oh no!” Coral pretended to bemoan before she cut the act long enough to order for both of you. “I want to pamper myself when everything is on fire. Sue me.”

“Add flax!” You rushed to the employee.

The person took down the note with no problem and you moved to the register.

“Flax?” Coral mouthed. “Are you doing overnight oats with chia seeds, grandma?”

“Barb after barb.” You both shoved each other for your wallets before she won out as her elbow inched dangerously close to your abdomen and you bowed out.

She paid. “You compared me to my mom!”

“I was just saying you buy crap-crap too.”

“You’re totally not a thing name for senseless shit.”

“It’s cute.” You stepped out of the way for the next person and blenders started up. “You suggested smoothies. I’m just trying something new.”

“It is cute and I wanted a million calories of peanut butter and chocolate in a little less lethal form.”

“They call that protein.”

“Who does? Meat heads?”

“Isn’t that the marketing?” You gestured to a sign where a man with rippling muscles appeared to be drinking a milkshake.

“Eh!” She shrugged. “How’s being pregnant?”

“Surprisingly not that-“ You froze.

Coral obviously propped her elbows up on a nearby standing table and gestured for you to join her.

You hobbled to stand across from her and searched her wildly.

You hadn’t told anyone.

Not yet.

Not for a very specific reason.

“How?” You hissed.

She was a little taken aback by the force of your response, but played it off. “You looked it then acted like it.”

“Yeah, no! Not good enough! How?!” You leaned in to seethe with a modicum of privacy.

“I noticed the second I saw you. You really do look it. It’s like a glow. You know I’ve always been able to tell. How many celebrities have I been right about?”

“You can’t know from that!”

“Why not?” She tilted her head with caustic innocence.

“Because nobody can know-!” A worried sound caught your throat and you shirked away.

It put Coral on high alert. “Is something wrong??”

“No… It’s just…”

“Hey.” She reached across the table and touched your arm.

You took her hand in and then all but flopped against the tall table. “Did the green smoothie thing tip you off? I need to go ham on fiber and vitamins.”

“No, I figured it out the moment I saw you. Everything else was confirmation. The drink choice, the flax, how you were terrified I’d even look at your stomach. I was just waiting for the best time to ask.”

“When you could trick me into confirming.” You griped.

She smiled a little. “Well?”

“We just had our second OB appointment.”

“Oh?” Her head bobbed.

“Yeah. She’s like the best of the best. Endora Kuro.”

Coral shrugged, not knowing who that was.

“I’m at nine weeks.”

“Holy shit!” She bounced with excitement. “That’s so far along!”

“I guess?”

“Congrat-”

You seized her wrist. “Don’t!”

She only blinked wide.

“Don’t… do that. Don’t tell anyone…”

“Okay, cut the crap. What’s up? Something’s up.”

“There’s…” Your smoothies were called and you broke for a moment to get them. “It’s a whole thing.”

“Looks like we’ve got time.” She tipped her straw to you and sucked the thick liquid.

You followed suit and were thankful for the relatively bland flavor. “The embryo is strange.”

“Yeah, well. Look at its dad.”

You shot her a glare.

“Sorry, last joke.”

“You’re not… wrong. The mutation is making things complicated.”

She hummed for you to go on with a sip.

“You know how I told you mutants aren’t supposed to reproduce and chances were low?”

She gulped. “Yeah?”

“The embryo is showing hybrid signs. There’s some placenta and some eggshell. My body’s not made to make the shells, obviously. We don’t know how it’s going to grow. We don’t know if it can grow. It’s all… scary. Nerve-wracking. A whole thing.”

“Oh…” Coral’s tone dipped with similar worry and sympathy.

“Yeah.”

“So… you’re waiting? For what exactly?”

“Three months.” You leveled with her. “Something like 80% of miscarriages happen in the first three and after that it drops significantly because of how far along the baby is. It’s considered safer and we’ve decided to wait until then to tell anyone.”

She nodded slowly. “Won’t you start to show?”

“I guess? Nothing yet, but I think the bump will be small around then so it’ll be easy to hide with clothes.”

“It’s like after four months or… something… that you’ll show?” She thought hard for a moment, but came out unsure.

“Yeah…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You lit up to enforce it. “Today’s appointment was good. Everything is still good. It seems like it’s on track, but there’s this undercurrent of nerves everyone has. Stress is bad so I’m trying not to let it get to me, but I can tell from the very few people who know that it’s a scary thing and they’re all acting the same way. Like we all hung up a safety net, but we’re pretending it’s not there for the tightrope walk.”

“All those months of you trying.”

You drank your smoothie.

“You finally nailed it and now this…? Sucks.”

“Exactly.”

She huffed and for a few minutes you slurped in silence.

“It’s… kind of nice to have a not like legally invested party know…”

Coral snorted.

“Like Spencer knows, for the whole ‘government take down’ thing and my doctor. That’s it.”

“And Shrek.”

You blew an unintentional raspberry and tried not to spray green flecks. “Shrek!?”

“Shrek fucked.”

“Stop!”

“He did! Had three kids! Wait, was it just three…?”

You pushed the table into her.

She started to shove it back, but realized the angle would hit your stomach and stopped. “Oh.”

“Please don’t. I’m not that fragile.”

“You were weird in line.”

Your teeth flashed.

“Yeah.” Her lids fluttered. “I change my mind. You were super suss and if it wasn’t already obvious, I would have figured it out then.”

“I need to be careful with the others.” You decided and ruminated on how.

Coral let a beat of silence go by before she tepidly asked, “There’s a pic then, right? If you’re doing weekly check-ups?”

You made a little excited noise and dove for your phone.

She was around the table in an instant and touted a strange accent. “I would like to see the baby.” 

“This is eight and this is nine.” You flipped between the two pictures.

“It’s a bean!” She cooed.

“Kidney bean! That’s what the doctor said.”

“I love how they’re creatures like this. Way cuter than when they come out.”

You laughed.

“With those bug eyes and gooey bodies!” She teased.

“Obviously better when they’re grey blobs.”

“I always thought grey aliens were cute.”

“You’re insane.”

“You hang out with me.”

“Clearly speaks to me. What if I’m taking pity on you?”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s walk.”

You followed her out and totted your smoothies as you wandered leisurely.

“Is it gonna be green?”

“Hm?” You hummed around your straw.

“The baby.”

“I’m not sure.”

She grumbled lightly. “I guess you wouldn’t know much at this point.”

“It seems like it's growing a carapace.”

“What’s that in English?”

You shot her a dry look.

“I don’t know!”

“A turtle shell.” You threw a thumb toward your back.

She made a horrified face.

“What?!”

“How are you gonna squeeze that out!?”

You gave a small yell. “Thank you! Donnie’s species is called spiny too!”

“Is he sharp…?”

“Not really. His shell is kind of… bumpy? Leathery…?”

“Lame.”

“He should be-!” You cut yourself off and scowled. “It’s a whole thing, but not your business.”

“So he should be sharp?”

“Maybe?” You gave her an honest glance.

“Weird mutant stuff.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not! Mutants are fine, but they’re also weird! They don’t follow human or animal rules. They’re their own thing! Like that Hippo guy!”

“True…” You hadn’t seen Hypno in a while and wondered how he was doing.

“Are the others spikey?”

“Not that I’ve seen… Wait, no. Raph is very spiky.”

“That’s the one Shrek gets along with?”

“Call him something else!”

“Shrek fucks!”

“Stop saying that!”

Coral laughed so hard she had to stumble against a planter to catch her breath.

“You just had to figure it out.” You grouched.

“Aw come on, I’m gonna throw you a great baby shower.”

You startled and tried to hide the reaction away.

She gave a vowel of understanding. “That’s too far ahead to plan.”

“We can plan…” You spoke softly. “If we want. Buy clothes and everything, but there’s always a chance…?”

She stepped in front of you and looked at you clearly. “It’s scary.”

“Yeah.” You gave her an exhausted look.

“You want to live it up. You were both going through it and now you’re in this waiting pattern.”

“Sure.”

“Should we… not talk about it?”

“No!” You reached out to her unconsciously.

She looked over your hand and gave you a high five.

You chuffed.

She smiled.

“I want to talk about it. Especially with someone outside the group. I want to… get excited. I do want you to throw me a baby shower. I want to play the stupid games, but maybe not the shitty diaper one. I want to pick out colors… I want… I want to tell everyone and celebrate.”

She bumped you as she saddled up to her side. “Let’s pretend.”

“Pretend what?”

“That we aren’t talking about your seed and something else.”

You studied her.

“How’s your son?”

You blinked a few times. “Shelly?”

“Yeah. How’s he taking it? He’s gotta know with his creepy cameras.”

“He’s not creepy.” You rolled your eyes.

“He’s a little creepy.”

“He’s not great with boundaries.” You offered.

“Creepy.” She grinned.

You shook your head. “He’s listening and takes full offense.”

Your tech gauntlet buzzed twice.

“You’re too old, dude.” Coral leaned down to tell your wrist. “You gotta leave the nest!” 

It buzzed happily in response.

“What’s that mean?” Coral was still hunched and lifted her head up to you.

“It means he’s excited.”

“Weirdo.” She mused. “Well?”

“He’s excited.” You repeated with a different cadence. “He’s gonna be a good big brother.”

“For sure. He’s going to totally walk them to school and then change their grades before pops finds out.”

“Don’t give him ideas.” You scolded your arm.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was curiously silent.

You groaned knowing that meant he was already forming plans.

“If he had a color thing going, what would he have?” Coral asked suddenly.

“Hm?” You watched her straighten up and drink her cup dry.

She waited and shook her container to get a little more.

“Oh, you mean how Donnie has his purple mask? I guess Shelly would be purple too…” You thought. “A hot version like fuschia?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave one loud buzz.

“Translate.” Coral said instead of asking.

“He likes that.”

“What’s another?” She had a knowing look on her face.

A small thrill went up your spine, but you turned away to not give it too much time. “We can’t pick for them. They should decide for themselves.”

“Who?”

“No one.” You shot her a look.

She had a lazy smile plastered sideways on her face.

“Something light?” You whispered shyly.

“Lilac?” She similarly lowered her volume.

A picture of a baby wrapped up in soft lavender appeared in your mind’s eye and you tried not to overly gush.

“A nice wine color.” She offered.

Your image shifted to a toddler bumbling around with an eggplant colored blanket.

You thread your arm through Coral’s and snuffed out your excitement with a whine.

She leaned into you.

“It’ll go good. Whatever you pick. Your family photos will make me want to gag.”

“Matching sweater Christmas cards.”

“Ugh, I’m nauseous.”

“We’ve never done it, but Donnie would love coordinating outfits.”

“He would.” Coral opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.

You squeezed her. “More? Listen to me drone on about all of it?”

“What are crazies for?”

You looked at her. “I’m sorry for insinuating you were like your mom.”

“Thank you!” She huffed and pulled you to keep walking. “Drink your smoothie. We’re signing up for Pilates.”

“What?!”

“Yup! It helps to do it with a buddy. That was always my plan! I lied about the dessert thing!”

You stumbled in Coral’s locked limb. “I d-don’t understand!” 

“An exercise class! I was tricking you into going to one with me!” 

“The smoothies…!?” You didn’t quite follow her logic. 

“I’m… I don’t know! I’m trying to eat better or… something…”

You looked over her shape for a moment and felt suspicions douse you. “Wait, I know this. Okay, who is it? Who do you want to look hot for?”

“I’m already hot.” She grouched.

“Coral.”

“I don’t know! No one! I’m fine!” She veered down a street. “Your stupid gym is this way, right?”

It was and you were a little miffed that you hadn’t realized how close you were to it sooner. 

She huffed as she led. 

“Who's’ even around you? The only people who can stand you are our friends!” 

“Shut up!” She sneered. 

“And that’s not even long term!” You continued your tease. “The only people who have survived that are me and Nels!”

Her sudden silence was deafening. 

“Nelson.” 

Her eyes grew fearfully wide. 

“Ew, it’s Nelson!”

“It’s not!” She hissed and rounded on you.

“You’ve been living together for a while! Did something happen!?”

“What colors are you painting a room that just so happens to house babies!?”

“There’s no plans to paint. If there was a crib, which there isn’t, it would theoretically go in a corner of a bedroom that’s totally not mine. We only plan to move when whoever grows some. We’re not getting a house unless it’s a sure thing and it’s been years, Coral!”

“Exactly and he was with what’s her face for like 8 months.”

“Uh… Susan… or something like that.”

Coral stopped to drum up suspense before she snarled, “Susan!”

You nodded ferociously in time.

Together you moved in your hatred of this random woman you had never met.

“He got into health stuff after the breakup.”

“He always picks up something to cope.” You knew his track record.

“Blue bitch goes to your gym, doesn’t he?”

“I guess? I haven’t seen him in forever.”

Coral hummed.

“What are you thinking now?!”

“Nothing.” She sang her dismissal.

You ruminated over how she probably had about as many suspicious cues as you. “Please!”

“He’s into that stuff! Maybe I should ask him! I don’t know!”

“Coral!”

“Coulda fucked him at your wedding, but I was good.”

“You were with Nelson the whole time, what the fuck are you talking about?!” Nerves had you clucking.

“We danced once.” She shrugged.

“I can’t believe I have to string these words together, but please do not fuck Leo so you can get back at Nels!!”

She reached the door of your gym and turned to you with an all too obvious grin.

You chased her for the game of it, but you knew the truth.

She wouldn’t, but admitting that sort of thing was an insecurity.

You met her at the desk, thankfully scanned the gym to see there was no offensive slider around and you both signed up for weekly classes. Throughout it all Coral soothed, and after passing off a card to pay, you were back on the street.

“It’s okay to be hung up on him.” You tried as gently as you could.

“Fuck off.” She had no heat to her.

You hugged her side.

She grumbled a soft, “Gross.”

You also felt her hug back.

You kept it short and pulled her. “You’ll have to tell him. He’s too oblivious to figure it out even if you walked into his room naked.”

“One towel slip! One time!” She went on clear offense.

You snickered once before laughing. “You are so bad at this!”

“Hey! Look at your track record!”

You waved your ring in her face.

“You just had to simp for a psycho to get that.” She slapped your hand away.

“It worked out.”

“Yeah… After how long? How much?” She gestured over you before pausing. “How… are all your injuries?”

You immediately tucked an arm across your torso to hold one of the scars on your chest where feeling had never quite returned. “They won’t get in the way with the baby. Might be hard on my leg with the extra weight, but we’ll see…”

“Good…” She doted lightly before sighing. “I’ll talk to him.”

“That’s fast.” You bobbed to attention, but kept holding yourself. “I usually have to nag you for at least five days.” 

“Three months.” She spoke your curse.

“Bullshit!”

“I don’t want to be some rebound. Three months and we’ll both come clean.”

You stared at her.

She was obviously determined.

She was equally concerned.

It was scary.

You knew that well.

You held out your hand to shake.

She took your hand in a firm grip.

It was one solid agreement and you were released for reality.

“You’ll never last in Pilates.”

“I could!” Coral huffed. “You’re lucky you got knocked up! I was gonna make you do Zumba! But no!” 

“You could? Will you though? And what was your plan there anyway? Smoothies are like the worst thing to butter someone up with!”

“I can’t decide if that makes me want to quit early or shove it in your face when I beat you at it.”

“How do you beat someone at Pilates?!” You chortled.

“It’s way easier than beating someone at Zumba!” 

She regaled you in a bunch of fake ways to cheat some imaginary system and you finished your drink.

💜 NEXT 💜

This has week has been a year. Shout you to my dearest betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hi! I love your writing a whole bunch and was wondering if you’d maybe be up to writing something with a really talkative and openly affectionate reader who tends to go into long rants about the most mundane things (just a big old blabbermouth), and Charles who actually finds most of the blabbering entertaining and endearing. Some sort of romance thing between them but not really??? Idk but tihihi yeah 🤞🏽😜 and if it could be a fem reader maybe? or gender neutral it doesn’t really matter. Thank you!!

Lovers Rock 

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader Fluff)

I have an affinity towards writing Charles as an awkward and self conscious guy when it comes to you and his crush. Also I made this a little too romantic oops .

Warnings: none

Horseshoe Overlook, New Hanover, had scarcely been more than a large opening on a cliff side in the past, overlooking thick forests and open fields. The opening had been shaded by a handful of large, spreading oaks, and foliage of all types scattered on the ground; so much so that anyone intruding the camp would be immediately given away by the crunching of brittle twigs and dry leaves. Yet the once empty overlook was now bustling with work and chatter, horses and chickens, campfire songs and lighthearted games, tents occupied by well-meaning people and bountiful wagons. 

The move had been a well welcomed adjustment, one the gang had practically thrown themselves at out of desperation. Being figuratively holed up in Colter had been hell on earth. And the burning sensation your fingertips and nose felt as they began to warm up from the temperature change was a small sign of better things coming your way. Yet despite the constant moves around the nation, you did not complain once. In fact, you somehow managed to constantly keep your spirits up. As well as the spirits of a few of the other gang members. You were what the others would call a social butterfly. You never did quite run out of things to talk about. And why would you, things were always happening around you, and you were a very observational person.

Many members of the gang also found it incredibly intriguing that your best company was Charles, given he was such a reserved man who didn't say too much. How a talkative girl like you found herself blabbering away at such a quiet man like Charles was beyond them. But your bond was created over your ranting and his listening. Something the two of you found very endearing. You, in the way Charles looked at you with such endearment when you spoke, humming occasionally and nodding at you to signify he was listening. And him, in the way he found your constant rants about everything and nothing to be so interesting, no matter how mundane. And he revered your conversational and observation skills with what could only be described as admiration.The two of you were completely opposites. And you complimented each other quite well.

There was also you and your lack of understanding of personal space. The way you would grab a hold of Charles' arm, barely able to close your hands around his bicep. Leaning in extremely close into him to get a better look at whatever he was doing. Hugging him unabashedly in a way that left him sweating, awkwardly hovering his arms around you before stiffly returning the hug. Charles usually kept his cool, yes, but when it came to you, he was no smooth talker. His lack of proper responses to your rants could be attributed to both wanting to just listen to you talk out of pure adoration, and being unable to find his footing in a conversation with you in fear of sounding like a fool. He cared deeply for your openness with him, yet he also found himself strangely concerned with the way he came off as well. 

"Here you go!" You had approached Charles with a multitude of herbs in your basket (the same basket Charles had so skillfully weaved for you), as well as a small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked yourself. You had occupied yourself this morning by going exploring around the woods surrounding Horseshoe Overlook and foraging for anything you could find. When Charles did decide to continue the conversation on his end, you'd often hear him mention the herbs he needed for his weaponry or tonics. You'd scribble down whatever it was he needed to the best of your memory, and would surprise him with a bushel of herbs every now and then.

He took the basket from your arms, cupping the underside of it with one hand and grasping the handle with the other. 

"You got all this for me?" His voice had a tinge of disbelief, genuinely impressed you'd been able to locate everything for him. Perhaps he had underestimated your gathering skills. Not to mention, he was incredibly moved you'd gone out of your way to pick these all for him. It was no easy task. And your efforts were evident in the crumbs of dirt that stuck to your palms and knees, the dirt and grass stains on your dress, a scratch on your elbow, and a few leaves atop your head that he found absolutely adorable. And how could he possibly gloss over the bouquet of flowers. The implications were that they were his, but he still had to ask. 

"A-And these?" He cleared his throat to disguise the stutter. 

"For you, silly!" You smiled warmly at him, patting his arm. He nearly choked when you took his hand gently into yours, the sheer size difference making his brain short circuit. You led him to a boulder that sat on the overlook; the same rock you two would always sit on and talk. 

"Oh god Charles! What a day I've had!" You began. Charles knew this marked the beginning of one of your long rants. Truly, the highlight of his day. 

"First off, you know how hard it was to escape Miss Grimshaw this morning?! I thought I woke up early enough but nope! She was up well before me." You groaned. Charles chuckled and nodded in acknowledgement, occupying himself by picking up the bouquet of flowers off the rest of the herbs. Some of the stems had begun to wilt from the heat of the day, becoming muddy and dark in color, but he treasured them nonetheless. He’d make a mental note to press them later, and to teach you how in the process.

“I convinced her to let me go from camp work by saying I was going to go collect things for camp. Which technically… I did..” You giggled, motioning towards the basket. Your body language as you spoke signified how open you were. Your moved your arms animatedly and faced your palms towards him as you spoke, emphasizing any emotion behind the story. Not to mention you turned your body to face him as you spoke; your knees would touch one another and you’d be too engrossed in your story telling to notice it, but Charles certainly did. He returned any gestures, but most importantly, he held eye contact with you. Which was incredibly important to the both of you. 

Somewhere in between Charles staring at you longingly and leaning forward in a display of attentiveness, you had begun discussing your trip into town, and how you’d made note of the strange looks some of the towns people would give you for looking so grimy, especially for a woman. Charles made another mental note to return those dirty looks next time he went into town with you.

“Oh god, and then when I was at the general store I greeted Mr. Worth, and he ended up giving me a free chocolate bar! He said he was thinking about moving out west and quitting Valentine. How sad.” Your happiness over the free sweet was quickly replaced with a pout. 

“That’s a shame.” He commented. He was abashed over his lack of words, but you didn’t seem to mind as you continued. 

“I know right! Oh and also, did you see this scratch I got?” You lifted your elbow in his direction to show him. He moved his hands forward to gently take ahold of your forearm and study the cut but you moved your arm away before he could. 

“Oh don’t worry, it's just a flesh wound.” You reassured, feeling touched by his obvious concern for you. “I ended up tripping over a tree root while walking down a steep landing, fell face first! I tried to catch myself with my elbows but I just skidded down further.” Your face burned at the retelling of your ungraceful fall. But before long, you had found yourself going on a tangent about how much you struggled to find the specific types of herbs Charles needed. 

As he continued to listen to you, Charles began to think to himself how he didn’t necessarily need to force himself to speak when not needed. You were happy being listened to, and he was happy listening to you; not many people around camp would’ve been content as he was just sitting there and listening to you talk endlessly about things that happened to you or things you noticed. How he felt such tenderness for you in that moment. The twinkle in your eyes, the unruly straggle of your hair upon your neck with each movement, the way you occasionally brushed his arm with laughter that turned to snorts, the openness of your heart as you spilled yourself onto him. 

And in that moment, he knew you were the apple of his eyes.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Lovers Rock - TV Girl

[aonungyou-shit]

Movies? You mean crying time?

Warnings: Maybe some spoilers for Luca the movie I mention (idk i think itll be interested if the reef navi would watch something with water yknow. Also i cry like a baby at luca and im also still so stupidly obsessed). 

“Come on, come on! Before norms takes it away” Tuk spoke now, taking your arm and rushing off to a little part of the little setup Norm and Max had set up. 

Kiri and yourself now running off as quietly as you could. Truth be told you two knew you wouldn’t really get into trouble. You were allowed, Sometimes to watch the movies that Norm had surprisingly saved. And honestly working up the old ‘uncle norm pls’ puppy eyes you had managed to master. 

Well safe to say you wouldn’t get into trouble. 

All your siblings huddled under the shawls and blankets that you had of course weaved up with Kiri. Now You did know that Lo’ak was inviting Tsireya. But now three metkayina’s were sat there huddled up with a basket of fruit. 

It was a funny sight to see really. 

“We got it! Now c'mon. Let's choose one” 

Now you knew and oftentimes teased Norm for being a giant nerd. Having a good Catalog of not only Children movies, But horror or Comedies. You didn’t get them much. And seeing as you knew Tuk was joining you decided to just allow some kids movies. 

“Which one’s haven’t we seen?” 

You continued to scroll. Now thinking about it there were a few movies about the sea or anything relating to that. So without much thought you clicked on Luca. 

“Oh yeah nice one” 

You smiled Letting her get comfortable as you set the laptop up on a Basket you had brought. No doubt all of you would be huddled together to see the tiny screen. “We should have stolen the projector”  

“We barely left with our lives” Kiri said dramatically. Which you rolled your eyes on. 

“Okay but if we all have crooks in our necks it isn’t my fault. Everyone ready?” 

You got a collected yes. Before hitting play. Now Going to join the pile. Shoulder to shoulder with Ao’nung. Who Extended his arms to cover you with the blanket. 

Your twin. Neteyam leaning back and resting on your leg. Which you didnt mind now but would later, no doubt. When your leg would fall asleep under his weight. 

Hearing the music play was a little startling. You knew English and that was pretty much it. 

“Demon Language? This isn’t english” Tsireya said. 

You had completely forgotten that now that you have taught them about english it probably would be startling to not hear that. 

“Yeah human’s had a lot of different languages” You said 

No doubt you would have to answer questions later. No doubt about why on pandora would human’s make communication so difficult. 

You just Let it be. Finally seeing the sea monster that the two characters were talking about. 

It was nice. Seeing what earth’s sea was like. 

“So wait? Human’s had those sea monsters?” 

“No Rotxo its just a movie. Yknow like… Like a story That’s not true” 

“That’s stupid” 

You rolled your eyes, shushing everyone as you got yourself some fruit. No doubt the little bits and pieces of commentary would be happening. Given this was their first time watching a movie. 

You eat your snack as you watch the movie progress. 

Resting your head on Ao’nung shoulder you continued to watch. 

=============================

You bit down hard on the fruit. The bone is now grinding against your teeth as you watch the scene unfold. You didn’t even notice how all of you seemed to lean in on the little screen at that moment. 

You had many movies that did this. That builds up the music in such a tragic feeling and right now you were preparing it. 

“See i knew this”

“Sea monster” 

God it really broke you. The tears now build up as you watched Alberto gasp as Luca had betrayed him. You heard tuk let out a little no. No doubt most of you are crying at this scene. 

You could only watch eyes glued to the laptop as you watched Ercole throw harpoons towards Alberto. 

Ao’nung took notice of your tense figure beside him. Looking at you he noticed how your eyes were now streaming down tears. You rubbing your eyes and trying not to make too much sound as you couldn’t help but cry at the scene. 

Ao’nung did find it sad. He didn’t know why or how. But he found himself relating to the kids. In a way he would feel bad or worse if his best friend would betray him that way. 

He tapped your hand. Making you look at him. He took the time to wipe away your tears before peppering your cheeks with soft kisses and then planting one on your forehead, being careful as to not disturb the others. 

“Its alright” 

You couldn’t help but nod and laugh a little. God you hated watching movies that made you so stupidly sad for people that didn’t exist. 

But you continued to watch, leaning your head on Ao’nung. 

It was now really quiet. And you looked ahead to the rest of your family. Neteyam had unfortunately fallen asleep on you. Tsireya hugging your little brother. Tears in her eyes as she continued to see the movie. 

“Yes it is, you're not like me. Your the good kid and i'm just the kid that… ruins everything” 

You didnt even try to hold it. The Little sob that left you as you watched Alberto hold himself in. It was so sad to think that humans, whether fake or not, Had to know the concept of abandonment. It wasn’t normal. It was never meant to be normal. 

“So human’s abandoned their family?” Rotxo asked rubbing his eyes as he continued to watch the scene. Breaking the silence as he finally sat up next to Kiri and Spider. Spider biting his lip as he was often the one who felt abandoned. 

“Sometimes” Lo’ak commented. 

You sushed them again. Leaning into Ao’nung again now putting the bone of your finished fruit in the basket. 

And continued to watch. 

It didn’t feel like much time had passed. But pretty soon the ending came. Neteyam woke up just in time as you watched the kids on screen win the Cup that they were so adamant of winning. 

It touched you how the music played. The visuals. The way they felt liberated. Yeah there weren't a lot of scenes of the ocean. But the scenes of the human towns. It made you long for a home you could never know. 

From the stories your father told you. Earth was dead, there was nothing that human’s enjoyed more than little times of fun. And an escape from a reality that was dull and void of anything that meant living. 

You felt sad and yet so happy. Watching the little boys interact. 

“But, how am i gonna know your okay?” Luca said 

You watched as they hugged and you wanted to sob again from happiness. Watching as the two boys tightened their arms around each other before Alberto spoke

“You got me off the island luca, Im okay” 

Now it was Rotxo’s turn to begin to cry. By Eywa he never thought he would cry over human things. But here he was. just like Ao'nung who also began to sniffle

Now this made you look at him. His normal cocky face now sprinkled with some tears here and there while he bit down at his lip trying so hard not to sniffle. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Before taking his face in your hands as you kissed his cheek as he did for you a while ago. 

“That was beautiful” 

You heard Tuk cry as she whipped her tears off too. 

“It was! I cant believe humans made such a heartbreaking story” Tsireya said wiping her tears too. 

You watched as everyone Began to sit up. No doubt by now it is dark and probably your father is looking for you all. 

Just as it seemed. Norm had opened the door. Eyes Crossed as he stared at all of you and then at the Laptop he had been missing for over an hour. 

“Care to explain?” 

“Shit..” Kiri muttered 

You laughed a little, grabbing the laptop before handing it over. You could manage another earful from your father or from norm. But you would in fact ask if you could have days where he allowed you to watch your movies. 

Maybe once in a while if you don't get into too much trouble.

[mysteriouspersonrambles]

Live listening to the new Malevolent episode so long post:

Dude fucking medieval Britain being Kayne’s bind spot is so funny - like what a loser

Alexander!!!! My Boy I love you so much

This peace is not going to last

Oh a weaved basket let me guess the village is going to be totally destroyed and that’s what causes the foul taste in the river or the bad river taste came from the witches nest dumping into the river supple

You walk a path with devils- bestie you guys run had fist into the devils on a regular basis don’t act like all those run-ins aren’t your fault

Nooo Yorick - get bagged idiot I suppose

Arthur continues to be the most conspicuous guy of all time. Congrats buddy nobody does it worse than you

Do you still have your lighter remember the magic lighter

Arthur you trespass on the Daily you where a fucking PI dude

Oh never mind Arthur got his spooky sense and being touched by ghosts apparently he truly is beloved

Arthur was a Boy Scout oh man I forgot about that. What a mental image

Oh yeah Arthur’s super dead parents

Oh man friendship let’s go. Wait Arthur what happened with your friend did die or something. Oh who am I kidding it’s malevolent of course he’s dead

Ohh what else is in the pen. Is it bones I hope it’s bones.

Aw boo it’s just a weird figure dudes you guys encounter those things all the time

Bewildered Englishman I love that

Yeah dude he’s different it’s the trauma. Remember he had to eat a man

But your Kayne’s favorite boytoy that should mean something

Dude I hope they run into their other self’s that would be so fucking funny please 🙏 or like a Catbox situation (does anybody get that reference)

Yeah dude fuck the narrative

You might fail but also like you’re the MC’s so plot armor

Huh difficult to see anything else but the fire- this better not be foreshadowing

The Guy is back hell yeah ohhh what a voice

Arthur does not know how the deal with the fay

Arthur this village is fucking dead there is nobody here

Yeah guys this guy has been through some shit

I think he’s warning you dude you know there are monsters about

Yeah dude the Fay the one you don’t know how to handle

I like this guy he speaks in riddles

I this guy talking about the prince or another Arthur or just regular Arthur

Welcoming is a dangerous thing Arthur

Dude not his biggest trauma

This man is not up to date with modern law procedures man

Ohhh spooky ghost man is a story teller

Dude the foul taste in the water

Self hate for the win 🏆

He is the boy’s vengeance

Oh shit was I right or half right but I knew this guy was ghost guy. I think that’s actually so cool

The witches child?? Or Faroe

Arthur these noises are not the ones I would want to hear when talking about children. Like I know you’re morning but the noises man

Good choice Arthur I would want the truth too but it could be something you know but still

That’s so cool that the ghost kids are so powerful good for you ghost kids

Scratch!!!! Or the goat lady the one who was mentioned in the 1st season I can’t spell her name but I was talking about her the other day

Or maybe just another spooky ghost lady either way in hyped

Fuck indeed you just murder one of her kids and she got a good look at you and who you’re traveling with

You can’t destroy the darkness idiot

Oh fuck is Alexander evil please I will cry if he is

You don’t get a weapon you chose a truth

Yeah man you can’t escape the darkness idiot

Is she why Kayne can’t be here. Is Kayne scared of her please that would be so funny

“He is not what he seems” I can’t tell if this is about Yorick or Alexander the owl it could be both but I love them so much.

Also where was Yorick this episode I missed him he’s not evil just kinda dumb and a plotter and he wants a hand of glory but he’s just a little guy

Arthur are you going to sleep on the ground the forest is going to eat you

William aw what happened to him how did he die horribly

I’m sad this episode was a feeler though I’m glad Arthur got a little peace of mind when it came to Faroe. I can’t wait to see the absolute shit show that must be next episode this one was much too fluffy something terrible must be coming.

[jacklynchh]

Wildflowers & Honey • Self-Para

Spring, 2018.

"What's that?"

"It's a beehive!"

There was a moment of silence in which Jack set down his coffee, trying to decide whether or not to question it. Grace offered no further explanation and just continued hauling boxes of unfamiliar equipment through the door, humming happily to herself.

"When you said you were going to pick up a few things, I thought you meant groceries," he said finally, deciding to get ahead of… whatever this was.

She grinned at him.

"I got groceries too."

It was a thing she did. He should be used to it by now, really. Grace would hear about some new hobby or craft and for the next few months it became Her Thing. Sometimes they stuck, knitting and pottery were particular favourites, but most of the time after a while she'd get bored and move on to the next. It was the reason they had a closet full of basket weaving materials that hadn't been touched in two years.

"Okay," Jack said, and then, "Should I ask?"

"Well, Heather from pilates was telling me about this amazing local group that runs all these courses on self-sufficience. You know like growing your own produce, animal care, foraging, and-"

"Beekeeping," he finished with a sigh.

"Exactly! And I figured we already grow our own stuff, and since we don't have enough space for a chicken coop, then this is the next best thing." She straightened up and dusted her hands off. "I thought it could be a cool thing to do together, you know? And think how great it would be to be able to make our own honey. You could sell it at the market with everything else."

She joined him by the kitchen island, swiping his unguarded mug to take a sip. There was a twinkle of joy in her eyes and she looked so pleased with herself that any half formed protests he had died on Jack's lips.

"Do we have to get a license or something?"

"There's a register and a small fee, but it's only like ten dollars."

"And the course?"

"We can afford it."

Another heavy sigh and he gave in. "Fine, but if I get stung you're never gonna hear the end of it."

"I think I can live with that," she said, smiling as she leaned into his side.

Present day.

There was a swarm hanging from his mailbox. Not the most helpful thing in the world, considering Jack had come out to see if anything had been delivered yet. A gentle buzzing noise filled the air and a few lone rangers were flying haphazardly above the main cluster, looking for places to land. The bees seemed relatively calm, so he just stood there for a moment debating what to do.

The sight of them had sparked a memory he hadn't thought about in years; Grace coming home and declaring them soon-to-be beekeepers. She'd been so excited about it at the time. He remembered wondering whether it was something they'd end up sticking to or give up on two classes in—they'd never had a chance to find out. Her diagnosis had come in only a couple of weeks after she'd signed them up.

He still had the hive though. It was sitting in the potting shed, hidden behind a pile of old tools and a wheelbarrow, alongside a whole collection of other seemingly vital beekeeper's equipment that he didn't know all that much about using.

It would be stupid to dig it out now, wouldn't it? Pointless. He should just call someone to come and get them, be done with it. That would be the sensible thing to do.

But they'd chosen to stop here. And his garden was full of pollinator plants. And he could see Grace's fucking smile-

Fifteen minutes later, he had his phone lodged between his shoulder and his ear as he tugged the hive out from its hiding box. It was still in relatively good condition, all things considered.

"Yeah, yeah, I've got frames too. Everything, I think. How soon can you be here?"

Only in Blue Harbor could he have found a qualified beekeeper not fifteen minutes away totally willing to help a complete stranger catch an absconded swarm. He hung up, proceeding to pull out one of the old suits stored away with everything else, feeling ridiculous as he climbed into it. It was insane, wasn't it? To see your dead wife in a swarm of fucking bees and, what, decide to keep them because of that?

And yet here he was. Oh well. He'd done it now. Might as well just accept his fate.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

As It Should Be.

Cowboy!Eddie x Female Reader (Fluff)

Summary: Eddie wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Proposing to the girl of his dreams was just the next step.

Warnings: Just tooth-rotting probably badly written fluff

Word Count:1,147

Authour’s Note:I’m absolutely obsessed with cowboy!eddie and so I wanted to write a little something more with him.  If you’re wondering who Miss Evelyn is, she’s a little old lady who is a regular at the pie shop. You should probably check out this thread I wrote with @munsonology to help make sense of things.

also here’s a link to my previous Cowboy!Eddie fic

Masterlist

Wayne unfurled the small velvet box from the depths of his denim work jeans, before cracking it open to reveal the small oval diamond settled nicely onto a delicately weaved gold band.

Eddie eyed the ring in the box with awe, and a slight nervous excitement fizzing inside him.

“Thanks for this, Wayne. I know that this ring means a lot to you.” Eddie nods as he takes the ring and box from his uncle’s hands.

“Your momma would’a wanted you to have it, Ed. I was just holding on to it until you needed it.” Wayne smiles as he lays a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. 

"Think she'll like it, Pa?" Eddie asks, turning his head towards his uncle.

Wayne knew how Eddie could be sometimes. Getting in his own head and worrying too much. 

"Son, that sweet girl loves the bones of you. She looks 'atcha like the sun shines outta your ass. She'll love it, because she loves you." Wayne chuckles in his gruff voice. 

“I just want everything to be perfect for her, y’know?” his big brown eyes look out to the slowly setting sun from the porch overlooking the sprawling fields ahead of him.

“It will be Son. She’s gonna love it.” Wayne smiled as he ruffled the mess of Eddie’s dark curls. 

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Eddie finished up putting the last few bits into the picnic basket. A few bits of fruit, some bread, as well as a container of Miss Evelyn’s famous fried chicken and mac and cheese, which she had kindly made and gave to Eddie when he told her that he was planning to propose to you. She insisted that if you were going to do this then you should do it right, and with a good meal to share between you. 

Finally finishing up with a bottle of champagne tucked into the basket, and with a little bit of hope, and if all went to plan, the evening would end in a celebration. He makes one final check that the ring is safely hidden away in his pocket before he heard your voice calling out to him.

“Eddie, Honey? Are you ready to go?” You call as you make your way down the stairs, and towards where you know he is in the kitchen.

“Yeah Sugar, we’re all packed up here” he shouts over his shoulder before turning around to look at you.

You’re wearing a cute blue and white chequered sun-dress, and a pair of flat sandals. Your hair is in a perfectly messy updo, with a few loose curls framing your face. 

Eddie can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he sees you, everyday he counts his lucky stars that you’re with him. He doesn’t want anyone else. You’re it for him. He wants those cosy moments curled up in bed together, he wants those early mornings sharing breakfast together, and every little moment in between.

He takes you by the hand, leading you towards his pickup truck. Opening up the passenger side door, he helps you into your seat. He quickly rushed around to the driver's seat, before hopping behind the wheel next to you.

“Ready Darlin?” 

“Let’s go cowboy!” You laugh.

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Eddie pulled up to your favourite spot. The sprawling and colourful flower fields with the grand oak tree. The very same tree that you and him had carved your initials into on your one year anniversary of being together.

Getting out of the truck, he once again rushes around to your side to take your hand and help you step down from the passenger side.

With the picnic basket in one hand and your hand in his other you two set off to find the perfect place to set down your blanket. 

Eddie spreads out the soft blanket on to the grass, and you both begin to pull out all the food and drinks from the basket.

The sun is setting, turning the sky a hazy shade of pink and you and Eddie spend it laughing and joking, talking about everything and anything. It was always so easy between you, the conversation never running dry. The food was amazing, you’d have to thank Evelyn for next time she was in the shop, and make sure to save a slice of maple pecan pie for her to take home.

You’d comfortably been laying your head across Eddie’s lap as he leant back against the tree, loosely twirling a strand of hair between his fingers. Just enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s company.

The evening drew in and the small velvet box was burning a hole in Eddie’s pocket. He had to ask you. It was now or never.

“Hey, Darlin’...Look at me a minute, I wanna talk to you..well, I wanna ask you something, really.” he starts.

“What is it Ed?” you say as you begin to sit up, your eyes looking at him so sweetly.

He steadies his breath for a moment. He’d thought for a long time about what he would say to you in this moment, how he’d ask you, but right now his words were failing him. His heart is hammering in his chest.

“I like to think that the stars aligned the day I met you. I knew I wanted to get to know you more. Then when I got to know you more, I knew that I never wanted you out of my life. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it. Darlin’ you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I want to be with you forever and always. So what I guess I’m asking you, Sweetheart, is that…Will you marry me?” he finishes, pulling the ring box from out of his pocket and opening it up before you.

You’re overcome with emotions, crying tears of joy as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my god! Yes!” you cry, wiping away the tears from your eyes.

“Darlin’ I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” he says as he plucks the ring from its box and slips it over your ring finger and pulls you close to kiss you deeply.

“Oh Ed! It’s beautiful.” you marvel, looking at the delicate band that now adorned your finger. 

“It was my Mom’s, she would’ve wanted you to have it.” he smiles.

Your heart warms at his admission. He wanted you to have his mother’s ring. You didn’t think it was possible to love him anymore than you already did, but now your heart was overflowing with emotions for the sweet man in front of you.

He was the only one for you, and you couldn’t be happier to begin to plan the rest of your life with him. Just you and Eddie. Together. As it should be.

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tagging: @munsonology @sunflowerdaydreamer @itsfreakingbats @seatnights @harringtons-cupid @penguinsandpotterheads

[ahungeringknife]

365: May 1-2

Malik collided with someone in the hall so hard if they weren't six inches shorter than him he would have fallen over. Instead the boy not looking where he was going fell onto his ass. "Watch where you're fucking goi- oh, Kadar," Malik looked down at his little brother sprawled on the floor all heat seeping out of his voice in an instant.

"Little kids aren't allowed in this part of the fortress," Malik's friend Jummal said. Malik rolled his eyes. That wasn't true but Jummal was fucking annoying.

Kadar grunted as he picked himself and dusted off his down gray tunic. "I'm fine," he chirped, voice still high.

"What are you doing here?" Malik asked, just barely refraining from folding his arms. "You shouldn't be down here." The lower dungeons weren't forbidden or anything but it really wasn't a place for a thirteen year old. Malik was down here with Jummal for some more... intense training for the older boys. Stuff to toughen your stomach. At least they'd run into him, literally, near the stairs.

"I know. But I wanted to show you something," and Malik nearly popped a blood vessel when his brother started trying to take off his pants.

"NOPE," and he grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the dungeon. Jammal laughed after him. "Shut up Jummal," Malik snapped over his shoulder.

"It's not anything weird," Kadar complained.

"Yeah okay ya freaks," Jummal called.

Malik still had a knife on him and at the top of stairs he grabbed one and threw it down towards Jummal who even laughing dodged out of the way. "My mark just came in. It's not weird," Kadar stuck his tongue out at Jummal.

"Keep walking," Malik growled and shoved Kadar away from the dungeon.

"See you at dinner, Mal," Jummal called after him, still snickering.

"Can you not embarrass me in front of my friends for five fucking seconds?" Malik asked Kadar sharply once they were around the corner. Malik loved his little brother but he was so annoying sometimes and there was nothing like having a little brother doing something embarrassing in front of your friends to make you lose all credibility you had.

"Sorry," Kadar said sheepishly looking up at Malik under his lashes with his big blue puppy dog eyes.

Malik sighed and rolled his eyes. But Allah he was such a sucker and couldn't stay mad at him forever. "Okay, lets see it," he said knowing this would get Kadar to not bother him about it again.

Kadar perked up and thankfully didn't take his pants off completely just enough to pull down the side to show his pale thigh. "See, see," he said excitedly. Soul marks came in when people hit puberty and their bodies started to change. They were often cryptic imagery that depicted one's soul mate. Kadar's was as vague and cryptic as any Malik had seen being black and sort of generically pretty wild flowers with a piece of intricate basket weaving flowing through it. If and when he found his match the mark would burst into color but for now it was all black and gray tones. "I woke up and there it was. I'm a man now," he said.

Malik scoffed. "I'd say you're not," he said.

"I am so," Kadar pulled his pants back up properly.

"Once your voice doesn't sound like this," Malik pitched his voice way up, higher than Kadar's childish voice, it cracked a little, "then maybe." Kadar laughed at Malik's imitation. "You got a long way to go," he dropped down to his normal pitch and ruffled his brother's hair. "Don't be in such a rush."

Kadar pouted at him. "I guess. You ever going to show me yours?" he asked.

"Nah, it's stupid," Malik said and started propelling Kadar towards the dining hall for dinner. Malik didn't like showing his. It was big though, took up his entire left flank. Sometimes when he got especially sweaty you could see the dark mark through his shirt.

"Aww, don't say that. I bet it's really pretty and that's why you don't like it," Kadar teased him, sticking his tongue out at him. "My brother's got tulips all over him doesn't he."

Malik rolled his eyes at Kadar practically dancing around in front of him. "As if," he said. But there were some tulips. Red like fresh blood.

"Then it's absolutely some cute little animals," Kadar snickered. "Like a bunny or little fawns," Kadar continued as they entered the dining hall. "Or a sweet little kitten-

"Yeah yeah shut up," Malik shoved him down onto the bench at the table. Kadar giggled.

"So what's the damage?" Jummal asked across from Malik.

"Wildflowers and baskets. He's going to find a nice boring girl-

"Hey! She won't be boring. She's going to be so cool and interesting. Just you wait," Kadar insisted. Then he scowled at Jummal. "What's yours anyway?"

"Some bread," Jummal only smiled when he talked about it and he did now. "I love bread."

"I swear your soul mate is just going to be the next loaf for dinner," Malik groused, making Jummal laugh.

Kadar turned to his other side, "What about you?" he asked a boy between his and Malik's age. Malik was helping himself to dinner, using a fresh pita to shovel meat and pilaf into his mouth.

"It's a dove," he said, also beaming. Kadar asked a few of the others at the table while Malik ate. The kid barely even noticed dinner or that Malik was putting food on his plate.

"What are you guys talking about?" and Malik only looked when Altair came and sat on his other side, their thighs briefly brushing together as he took a seat on the bench.

Malik swallowed hard to say, "Kadar's soul mark came in."

"Ah," and that was all Altair said, reaching across the table for things to stuff into an opened pita to make a kebab: lamb, vegetables and a bright red oil sauce Malik knew was hot enough to burn his mouth.

"What about you, Altair?" Kadar asked.

"Hmm?" Altair had already forgotten (or more like didn't care) what Kadar had been talking about.

"What's your mark?"

"A princess stabbing a dragon in the mouth," Altair said.

"Bullshit," Jummal rolled his eyes. "You told me last year it was a pigeon."

"He did? He told me it was a bunch of saffron flowers." Malik kept his eyes down at his food while several of their friends all said what Altair had told them what his mark was and they were all contradictory.

"So what is it?" Kadar asked once they'd settled down. Altair had his mouth full of kebab and just shrugged. "No fair," Kadar complained.

"Not for you, kid," was all Altair said.

"Lame," Kadar insisted.

"Yeah sure. Now eat your dinner or your balls are never going to drop and you'll be a scrawny shit forever," Malik said and everyone around him laughed to Kadar's squawk of outrage.

Malik looked himself in the mirror and brought the knife up to his face. He always pulled a face while shaving and tonight was no different. The shiny copper mirror was smooth enough to not completely distort his face. Only years of training stopped him from jumping when a pair of hands slid against his naked sides and around his chest. "Want some help?" Altair asked, voice soft, near his ear.

"It's just a touch up, I'm fine," Malik said but had taken Altair up on the offer before when he'd let it get a bit longer. He didn't really trust anyone else but Altair with a knife that close to his throat.

"Mmm," was all Altair said and his thumb gently stroked one of the red tulips that were part of Malik's mark.

"Almost believed the princess and dragon one at dinner," Malik said as he scraped the knife against his jaw.

Altair made a noise of amusement against his naked shoulder. "It's a good one. Some people even believe it," Altair said. Malik's skin twitched as Altair traced the insane depiction of Baʿal Šāmīn on his flank. Malik knew every line and curve of his mark and he knew Altair did too. Malik had read just about half the fortress' library looking for reference for what the fuck had appeared on his body years ago. Baʿal Šāmīn was an old god, maybe some bedouins still worshiped him?, and his domain was the sky. He was wrapped in white linens and armor seated on the ground with a sword across his lap and holding out a hand. His sword had the pommel of an eagle's head, his armor styled from normal overlapping mail almost to that of feathers, white, tawny, and a dull gray red. Red tulips rained down from his outstretched left hand like pouring blood. When he'd first seen Baʿal Šāmīn he'd been a stranger but since it'd come into color it wore Altair's face. As a young teen he'd been beyond confused by this man on his flank. But he'd gotten over it. Because it was such a wild mark and also in color he didn't show it to people. He'd been so mad when it'd first come into color too.

"Next time you should say it's just a river of blood," Malik said with a grin and Altair snorted into his shoulder. He paused to see if Altair would jostle him.

"That's just as believable," Altair said still lightly running his fingers over Baʿal Šāmīn and his red tulips. "Should Kadar be as worried as you were?"

"No unlike me Kadar's sane and clearly likes women," Malik said as he finished his touch up. He was trying to grow out the beard a bit but it just seemed a fool's errand. At least he could grow facial hair. Half of the boys in their training year were still peach faced babies; Altair being one of them.

"Ah. Too bad for him," Altair shrugged and the hair on the back of Malik's neck stood on end when Altair nuzzled him there.

Malik took a damp cloth and wiped the soap residue off his cheeks and neck. "Okay. I'm done. I can see you're being needy."

"Me? No. Never," Altair said with a voice that anyone else would clock as resentment but Malik heard as sarcasm.

Malik put the mirror back into his bag of shaving gear and cleaned the knife, stowing that away as well. Then Malik lightly pushed Altair's hands off him so he could moved around. Altair was his shadow as he went and sat on his bed, grabbing his shirt he's thrown there to pull on. "Hey now," Malik said when Altair grabbed his hands before he could put it on his shirt.

"You look better like this," Altair said and sat across his lap.

"Don't flatter me," Malik said.

"That's basically my job. So I will," Altair's mouth curled into a smirk. "Not like you're going to have a wife for that," and he pushed Malik down onto the bed, still holding his wrists.

"Gross," Malik said and that made him smile while Altair chuckled. Altair leaned down and kissed him and that was nice. It'd been a not so great day conditioning not to throw up around gore and death down in the dungeons but kissing his soul mate made it better.

Malik yanked one of his hands free to undo the belt around Altair's waist. Altair helped him pull the shirt out of his pants, his breath hot against Malik's face, and Malik put his hand up Altair's shirt. He didn't have to see Altair's mark to know exactly where it was and what it looked like. It was simply a sword that ran all the way down his chest, the point ending just above his groin, the hand guard fanning out under his chest and a intricate pommel in the shape of an eagle's head. It looked just like the sword Baʿal Šāmīn held in his own hand on Malik's flank. Altair never wore low collared shirts but if he did you could see the handle of the sword sticking out of his sternum, nesting against his collar bone.

Malik drew his hand up the length of Altair's mark and the other boy groaned softly against Malik's mouth when Malik fit his hand around Altair's neck like he was grasping the hilt of the sword. Far more gently than he ever would normally. His hand lingered there while his kissed Altair's warm mouth before sliding off his neck and back down his chest. Altair's breath was ragged by the time he pulled his hand out of his shirt, barely still kissing him.

"You're such a freak, Altair," Malik teased him.

"Shut the fuck up," Altair gasped and Malik snickered. "You're the one who literally has my face on your mark." That made Malik laugh louder. Yeah. That was true. It was pretty fucking weird.

"Yeah because that does nothing for your ego at all," Malik smirked.

"Better than you getting off to the fact that your last name is literally on my entire chest, freak," he said it right back and stuck out his tongue briefly.

"Keep it up and it'll be the only part of me on your chest tonight," and Altair shoved his hand over Malik's mouth, absolutely red faced. Malik just grinned against his palm. Sucker. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Altair was hard as a fucking rock sitting on him after putting his hand around his neck.

"You are such a shit," Altair hissed, face still burning. Malik thought it was cute how flustered he got. Malik said something against his palm but it came out as just noise. "Sorry what was that?" Altair asked, not moving his hand. Malik said it again. "Sorry I can't hear you when your mouth is full." Malik just rolled his eyes.

Altair removed his hand a moment later. "I said 'yeah but you love that I'm a shit'," Malik said smugly.

It didn't linger long at the soft look Altair gave him. "Yeah. I guess so," he said quietly and leaned down, kissing Malik again, this time far more gently and it gave Malik goosebumps. "I do love you," Altair said as a secret against his lips. Like every time Altair said it a thrill went down Malik's spine. It was pretty exciting after all, finding your soul mate so young; even if you were both shitty teenagers. And sometimes Malik just wanted to kill him but just because it was meant to be didn't mean you didn't still have to try for it and Altair could be so fucking annoying. Their marks had almost broken after they'd become colored, both pissed off at who'd colored their marks.

But that was years ago. They'd figured it out. They'd figured... this out. And Malik wouldn't want it any other way really.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Can I ask for a aunoung x gentle reader who is quite weaver , he has always had a crush on her and to spend more time with her he tries to weave but since he’s not that good she shows him how, and just a lot of fluff 💞

ₘy Dᵣₑₐₘ Gᵢᵣₗ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐨'𝐧𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴏ'ɴᴜɴɢ x ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴍᴇᴛᴋᴀʏɪɴᴀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: nothing bad, just, jealousy, fluff and a bit of teasing.

A/N: Hope you didn't mind me making reader one of Roxto's sister, just love the idea that Roxto is from an all girl family.

P.s. Remember to stay hydrated and to treat yourselves, you guys deserve it. :)

Masterlist

At a young age Ao'nung and his friends had already been talking about an Ideal mate. He didn't really think much of it since at the moment he didn't care about mates. His main goal was to be a great leader just like his father, that changed when he met you. You were Roxto's younger sister, just like your brother you were kind hearted, but also gentle.

You'd hang around your brother a lot, since he was always spotted with Ao'nung and Tsireya you'd stick around with them. You and Tsireya got along right away, Ao'nung would be shy around you. Even though you were both acquainted, he'd freeze up when you'd be around. When Roxto noticed his friend's shyness around you, he'd often tease to Ao'nung that he liked you. He'd always deny it, but deep down he was already growing feelings for you.

Ao'nung was very observant, he's always catch you weaving something, whether it was a fishing net, a basket, waist beads, a new top for one of your sister's or Tsireya. You were a good weaver thanks to the amount of practice you had. The day you had weaved him a necklace, he knew that he had fully fallen for you, since then on, he had promised himself to court you when you were both of age.

Years had gone on, and you were both already considered of age. While he was busy training for his rite to passage, you continued to weave. You had got better at your work thanks to the years. Everyone had seemed to love your work, you'd always get compliments on your weaving, some had ever asked if you could make them something. Being the kind person that you were, you'd always do so, you loved making things for others. But just like you had grown, so have others. Boys had began to grow an interest in you. Ao'nung would notice how everyday boys would go to you and complement your weaving, even ask you if you could make them something. Ao'nung was not liking it one bit.

That afternoon Ao'nung had returned from hunting with Roxto on the canoe. They had manage to get big fish that were hard to catch. They were unloading the boat. Ao'nung saw how you were at the beach, collecting things for your next work, but you were not alone. Nash'vi was with you, holding one of the baskets you had made, he was helping you while also keeping you company.

"You know if you can court her now right? No one had yet to court y/n" Roxto got his friend's attention by this. "Really?" Ao'nung asked, wanting to be sure that the water from his ears didn't effect his hearing. "Yeah, unless you want Nash'vi or Koro to court my sister, they have a huge interest in her too." Roxto explained while Ao'nung was now fuming by this information. The betrayal, his own friends wanting to court the girl of his dreams. "She likes waist beads" Roxto commented, making Ao'nung turn to him in confusion. "Y/n likes waist beads, if you wanted to know. Don't worry, no one knows except for you. Mister Observant" He teased his friend, who was still shooting daggers at Nash'vi who was making you laugh.

Later that day Ao'nung went to look for the prettiest pearls he could find, along with other small shells and pretty crystals. Once he had collected enough material, he got to work. He was very focused on making a waist bead for you, even if he had to stay up all night he was not going to stop until he made the perfect waist bead, for you.

He spent hours and hours trying to place the beads together, but the string would just burst, making him pick up the beads and pearls that rolled on the Marui floor. He was alone since his parents and Tsireya had things to do, he'd get frustrated when he'd have to start again, specially since he'd forget the pattern.

He was focused on the new pattern that he didn't see you approaching the Marui pod. "Ao'nung?" when he heard your sweet voice, he looked up from his work, seen you standing their with a smile planted on your pretty face. Seen you always made his days much easier, but this time he felt his nerves acting up, since he was making something for you, but you were here.

"Is Tsireya here? I brought her the headpiece that she asked." You said sweetly, holding up the shell with a string of pretty beads. This shell was one a Tsahik in training's would wear, Tsireya and Ronal had asked you if you could come up with something for Tsireya since she was in her training period. "No, she's with my mother and father." He explained, still holding his work in his hands. "Oh okay" you stopped and saw the beads on the Marui floor and some broken string.

"What are you making?" you asked, Eywa were you a curious creature. "I'm making a waist bead for.. for... Tsireya!" he blurted out, feeling his face heat up. You only smiled and sat in front of him. "Mind if I help you?" you asked, he looked into your sweet eyes and nodded slowly. You smiled and looked at the materials he had. "You have really pretty stuff, if you still have some can I borrow some? I'll get you more I promise." You said, Ao'nung could never say no to you. "Of course, you don't have to pay them back, you can just keep them." He said, feeling his face heat up even more.

You got a hold of a string and some beads, you began to show him how to come up with a pattern and how to properly tie the string tightly in order for the beads to not go everywhere. He paid close attention to your instructions, but also he'd get distracted your gentle voice and how close you'd get to him, to show him your work, to see if he was following your steps.

After a while of weaving, you were finished with yours and so was Ao'nung. He had made a very pretty one with a combination of crystal like beads, some wooden ones and a few sea shells. "Wow Ao'nung that one's pretty! I'm sure Tsireya will love it!" you commented, loving his work. If he wasn't such a shy fool, he'd tell you that it was for you, but he couldn't find the woods to tell you that the waist beads were for you. "I'm sure she will." That was all he said, dammit! He thought. "It's getting late, I have to head home, but can you give this to Tsireya?" you asked, handing over the headpiece to him. In which he took, making his fingers touch your soft palms. "Of course" he said with a shy smile, seen your smile widen. "Thank you Ao'nung, I'll see you tomorrow" you said then left the Marui, heading back home.

Ao'nung watched you leave, he felt as if you took his heart with you. "Idiot!" he smacked himself on the forehead. "Why didn't you just give it to her!" he groaned, mad at himself. He sigh in defeat, but he couldn't help but smile, even if it was just a few hours, he got to spend some time with you, alone with out his sister and your brother.

[go-river-flows]

Aonung is a skxawng (Sister of a Skxawng miniseries)

Summary: Aonung is a skxawng. That is a fact. He is a bully and picks on his older sister's friends for little things they can't control. The thing is, he doesn't learn from his mistakes.

A/N: Im making this a mini-series after having a lot more idea's for it.

My little brother was an asshole and a bully. Him and his friends were all dumbasses. Just because our father was the Olo’eyktan and a mighty warrior doesn't mean you can push other people around. He picks on my friend who had a few too many stripes on their face, another for having a large scar on his back from an akula attack, and another friend who had a slightly larger left ear. All of these things had something in common, it was from something they couldn't control. And what does Aonung do? Pick on them, even though my friends are older than him. He has some massive balls for doing what he does, especially when he knows my friends could definitely beat him up in a fight. 

  Tavë – the one with more stripes on her face – stormed into my mauri (I had my own mauri as I was an adult) slumping onto the floor as a whine left her mouth. 

“Tavë, what's wrong?”

“Your stupid brother is what's wrong,” she mumbled into the soft woven flooring. Not that much longer, Sansu – the one with a slightly bigger left ear – stormed in grumbling under his breath.

“Sansu.”

“Thank Eywa you're here, go deal with your brother,” Sansu kicked an empty basket across my mauri.

“Hey! Don't kick my things!” I scolded him.

“Yeah, just like that – at your brother,” Sansu gestures wildly. Next came To’Roi – large scar on his back from an akula attack. He didn't say anything, opting to just sit down next to me as I'm weaving a new top. He planted his head on my shoulder like he always does when he’s upset. I lightly pat his head to calm him, Sansu was pacing around and Tavë was still laying on the floor, face down.

Finally Sansu sat down after fuming and I had finished up my top. A head popped into my mauri.

“Hi Tsumuke! Hi guys!” Tsireya exclaimed, the three grumbled a ‘hi’ as I smiled back at her.

“Hello little sister,” she shuffled her way into my mauri observing the scene.

“Let me guess. Aonung is being a skxawng, again,” Tsireya rolled her eyes playfully, I chuckled as I started to stand, only for To’Roi to wrap his arm around my middle keeping me in place.

“To’Roi, please,” I tapped his arm, to which he just kept me in place.

“Don't move…just…stay still” he mumbled into the crook of my neck, heat crept up my neck to my face as Tsireya laughed at his behaviour.

“Should I tell father what's going on?” Tsireya questioned.

“Nah, we’ll deal with Aonung ourself,” I assured her. And when I mean ‘deal with him’ I mean he’s in for a scolding, possibly ending with him getting his ass beat.

Sansu’s expression lit up, Tavë finally looked up and To’Roi loosened his grip. I put down my newly woven chest covering and the three– no four of us including Tsireya stood, exiting my mauri heading for the sandy beach as tonight was the night of communal dinner. Knowing that Aonung would be nearby with his band of bullies, we read each other's minds choosing a space surrounded by the clan in the corner of the communal mauri. The more people who saw the better.

Tsireya went back to our parents to sit with them but we sat and ate, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. It was close to the end of our meals when Aonung and his friends finally showed up.

“Look, the freaks are sitting together,” Aonung laughed condescendingly. We were already used to being called freaks.

“Come on Aonung, We’ve heard that a million times already. I know you can do better than that?” I say, egging him on.

“Oh tsumuke, of course I can. Tavë looks like a pincer fish with all those stripes, any more and she’ll look like she's a wrinkly old woman,” of course he would target the Tavë first, “To’Roi was lucky to get just a scratch. If i was akula, I would've eaten him whole,” he continued, “And Sansu looks like a flat skate fish, his one ear catches more water than his right,” he laughed out loud thinking he's funny, his friends laughing along with him. I couldn't hold back my smirk as my father cast a shadow behind them, his horrified expression from hearing his son talk so rudely to my friends. Tavë, Sansu and To’Roi looked at each other with knowing looks.

“Just leave us alone,” Sansu said in monotone, hiding his amusement and creeping smile, knowing that Aonung was already caught.

“Just leave us alone,” Aonung mocked, “listen to these freaks.” I laughed darkly internally, maintaining a poker face as my father’s expression turned to anger. How did Aonung not notice him? Our father’s large figure and presence was hard to miss. But Aonung’s friend finally looked behind him and noticed the Olo’eyktan grabbing Roxto and pulling him away. 

“Aonung!” our father raised his voice, startling Aonung who instantly looked like he was about to shit himself, turning around to face our father scared out of his mind shrinking slightly. “So this is how you talk to your sister and her friends?” his calm voice scared Aonung even more. Our father just pointed out of the communal mauri and Aonung left with his tail between his legs, quite literally. Everyone within earshot was staring in our direction. “I will have Aonung apologise before you return to your mauri’s,” with that my father turned to leave the communal mauri.

When he left the group of us finally cracked up. The group of us gave each other high four’s.

“Oh great mother! That was hilarious! Did you see his face?! He almost shit himself, that skxawng!” Sansu chortled.

“He’s already a skxawng for trying it in front of everyone!” Tavë pointed out, laughing at the stupidity. To’Roi just laughed slapping his leg, his other clutching his stomach whilst hunching over. 

“Ow…my stomach….ow” To’Roi coughed out whilst still laughing. I laughed silently, my body shaking from the whole ordeal, the clan’s people around us chuckled at the sight of us shaking their heads at the uproar.

We tried finishing up our meals, occasionally chuckling and as promised by my father Aonung returned to apologise to my friends.

“And your sister?” our father raised his brow.

“Sorry tsumuke.”

“No. Properly,” our father demanded.

“I'm sorry tsumuke, I won't pick on your friends again. I'm sorry,” he repeated with a bit more sympathy. 

“Good,” our father nodded with crossed arms, proud that his son could properly apologise. Pulling Aonung to his mother. 

Returning to my mauri, Tsireya followed me as she wanted to stay with me for the night. Laying in the hammock, she snuggled in next to me like what we used to do when I was younger. The next morning we went for an early swim. I was doing my usual herb hunting for my mother, the clan’s Tsahik when Tsireya waved to get my attention.

‘Look. I found a pearl. It's so pretty and blue,’ she signed. I returned with a smile swimming to meet her, looking at the beautiful blue pearl.

‘It's beautiful! Where did you find it?’ Tsireya pointed to the sandy shallow swimming closer to it and brushed some sand away to find more. I looked in the area too, finding a similar looking one. 

‘Got one! Let's head back!’ I signed to her.

Tsireya called for our ilu and as soon as we breached the surface the blow of a horn surprised us.

Taglist: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @cumikering

[aughtpunk]

How did you get I to your hobbies? What's one of your fave projects you've completed? What's something you want to get out of the WIP box and finish up this year?

Okay. so I was super nauseous during my treatment to the point where I couldn't look at my phone so I fell asleep, woke up, was driven home, and then took a three hour nap and I'm awake now and less wiggly but still wiggly enough to ANSWER SOEM QUESTIONS BAAAAAABY

Writing - when I was ten years old I read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and decided I was going to write my own book when I grew up. I """wrote""" a book with my brother in middle school which was absolute trash but I cherish deeply. In high school I wrote my first fanfic and then I proceeded not to seriously write until my 30s thanks to having an unmonitored computer at my terrible office job.

Knitting - I hate to admit it, but I learned to knit so I could knit a scarf from a Certain TERF Wizard Book. It took four people to teach me how to knit before it finally clicked in my head. I stopped knitting for awhile after I made knitting my main gig during the recession because nothing kills a hobby like making money off it. I still don't knit much anymore.

Crochet - so back in my 20s I went back to the woman who finally taught me to knit and begged her to teach me to crochet. It...sorta worked. I could only make spheres for awhile and the occasional plushie bee. I've picked it up again recently and have crocheted a witch hat and now I'm making a cape to match.

Cross Stitch - One of my quarantine hobbies. Someone in a Good Omens discord I was in went hey who wants to learn how to cross stitch and I was like hell yeah. It has since absolutely consumed my life. Right now it's my favorite hobby alongside writing.

Basket Weaving - My other quarantine hobby. Just. Just ignore all of the half-made baskets in my closet.

The big WIP I want to work on and finish this year is what I call the Ugly 70s Blanket. Years ago I was gifted a box of the most ugly vintage 70s yarn you can imagine and I decided to make a blanket out of it. Well I lost the pattern like 1/4th of the way through and only this year did I finally hunt down the person who gave me the pattern (the lady who taught me to knit) and thank God, she had a spare copy. Now I hope to fix it and have a horrifying blanket that goes with absolutely nothing.

My fav project would have to be Echo of the Larkspur, my book that I'm FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHING THIS YEAR FUCK

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The titles are long af bc I find that very funny -Danny Words: 3,948 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Runaway' -by Aurora

V. Memory Lane Has Too Many Stops and I Keep Getting Carsick

Ara has barely stopped crying when Leo Valdez shows up flying the bronze dragon. Everyone stands ready, except Ara. She pushes through the crowd, eyes brimming with tears once again.

"People of Earth, I come in peace!" Leo is the most insane-looking boy she's ever seen. He's dirty from head to toe and looks like he spent the whole night awake. "Festus is just saying hello!"

"That thing is dangerous! Kill it now!"

"Stand down!" Jason shouts anxiously, Annabeth and Nyssa stand next to him. "Leo, what have you done?"

"Found a ride!" He says cheerfully. "You said I could go on the quest if I got you a ride. Well, I got you a class-A metallic flying bad boy! Festus can take us anywhere!"

"Festus..?" Ara echoes hoarsely.

"It—has wings," Nyssa stammers.

"Yeah! I found them and reattached them."

"But it never had wings! Where did you find them?"

"In... the woods," he's hiding something, but Ara couldn't care less about it at the moment. "Repaired his circuits, too, mostly, so no more problems with him going haywire."

"Mostly?"

The dragon tilts his head and oil falls on top of Leo. He's completely unbothered by it. "Just a few kinks to work out."

Ara's mind catches up with her body and she runs to Festus in tears. Leo jumps out of the way in alarm, but everyone else is delighted. She looks less menacing this way. "You fixed it! You fixed my dragon!"

Leo frowns. "Say what?"

"But how did you survive?" Nyssa asks in shock. "I mean, the fire breath..."

"I'm quick," he turns to his sister. "And lucky. Now, am I on this quest, or what?"

"You named him Festus?" Jason adds. "You know that in Latin, 'Festus' means 'happy'? You want us to ride off to save the world on Happy the Dragon?"

"It's perfect!" Ara laughs, the first genuine laughter that comes out of her in days, and gods, it feels so good.

"Okay, so she's as crazy as me," Leo doesn't sound troubled by it. Festus purrs at Ara's touch, she's holding onto his snout. "That's a yes! Now, um, I'd really suggest we get going, guys. I already picked up some supplies in the—um, in the woods. And all these people with weapons are making Festus nervous."

"But we haven't planned anything yet. We can't just—"

"Go," Annabeth stares at them with fondness. "You have Ara, you'll be okay. You've only got three days until the solstice now, and you should never keep a nervous dragon waiting. This is certainly a good omen. Go!" 

Jason looks at Piper. "You ready, partner?"

"You bet." The girl's beaming at the dragon.

"Everyone, give our General a proper send-off!" Lily speaks next to her, which causes Ara to jump. She hates it when Lily does that.

The campers lift their shields and swords. Lily places a Tyrian purple cloak on Ara's shoulders and hands her a worn T-rex backpack. "Come back alive," she raises her left hand, and a thin scar can be seen on the side of her wrist. "Deal?"

Ara lifts her right wrist and lightly presses it against Lily's. "You got it." She turns to look at the campers. "I'll bring you good news this time, I promise," Ara faces Leo, the insane boy, and her eyes fill with gratitude. "I owe you a big one."

"Cash only, sunshine. Or a kiss, if you're feeling generous," Leo jokes, trying to stop her from looking at him like that.

Ara smiles, which is not the reaction he wanted. He's hoping she'll go back to being grumpy soon, but unfortunately, nothing's going to make her forget his great deed. "I'll think about it."

She climbs on top of the dragon, and Leo does an okay job at keeping it together. Ara feels this is where she's meant to be, this will bring back her brother. She's always had a good instinct when it comes to Percy.

I'm weaving baskets when this weird thought crosses my mind: 

Look for Percy!

I saw him fifteen minutes ago, but I tell the naiads and nymphs that are with me: "Go get help." They notice how serious I am—which is unlike me—and follow my plea. I make my way to the forest, something is guiding me.

When Percy fought Ares, I gave him Aphrodite's protection. I told him "Love will keep you safe", and at the time he thought that I was saying it to not be the only one that hadn't given him something, but I knew it would work. I didn't know that it would bind me to him, but I'm not complaining.

When I find him, Percy sounds scared. "You're being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don't listen to Kronos."

"I've been used? Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who serve him."

I throw my basket at the back of Luke's head, trying to give Percy time so he can grab his sword. Luke turns and holds his weapon tighter. He has a new sword. "I've had enough!"

I stumble and cut my palm on a rock, I grab it and hear Percy's panicky voice. "Don't!" I don't know who he's talking to, but neither of us listens. The rock hits Luke's arm and I roll to avoid his blade but it grazes my skin. I grab a fistful of dirt and throw it at his face.

Percy swats whatever creature is on his leg and draws out his sword, Luke notices and decides I'm not worth the trouble, he makes an arch-motion with his weapon and disappears through a portal. I'm scared shitless and I can feel my back pulsing, I wanna run and hide behind someone again. 

"I'm sorry!" I cry, even though I'm not the one who almost killed Percy.

He stumbles toward me in some sort of pain, and I'll be damned if I don't help him out of this one. I put his left arm around my shoulders, and he places most of his weight on me, but I carry on.

"Cool, right?" Leo's smell is starting to get a little too hard to ignore, Ara tries to keep his oil-covered self away. 

"What if we get spotted?" Piper asks.

"The Mist," Jason responds before Ara can. "It keeps mortals from seeing magic things. If they spot us, they'll probably mistake us for a small plane or something."

"You sure about that?"

"No."

"I am," Ara replies. "Don't worry, Piper, the crazier it gets, the harder it is for mortals to notice. If not, I know how to fix it."

"Is it thanks to the cool thing you are?" Leo asks.

"Yeah, Chiron had to readjust my training, not everyone can control the mist, but Thalia Grace is really good at it and she and Chiron taught me, she's the other child of Zeus."

"We're making good time," Jason comments like he's trying to change the subject. "Probably get there by tonight."

"Where are we heading?" Piper questions.

"To find the god of the North Wind and chase some storm spirits." 

"Piece of cake," Ara nods. "I've gone to many quests, follow your instincts and we'll be okay."

"Which reminds me!" Leo adds. "You didn't finish your story! You promised you would explain!"

Ara frowns. "Where was I?"

"That Luke dude went nuts."

She pauses, trying to piece her memories together. "Well, the nymphs took us back to camp..."

Percy's really weak after Luke's attack. Annabeth left half an hour ago, and I'm standing on the porch clinging to my friend's arm. "You're going too, aren't you?" 

The basket I was weaving when I found him is at my feet, I made it for Grover. Percy says he might not come back at all. Grover, Annabeth, and Percy are the closest friends I've had and they're leaving. I want Percy to stay.

"I want to be with my mom, Ara."

"I wish I had a family," I make a face.

Percy pats my hand, I would rather have him glaring, but Annabeth says he's got a soft spot for me. "I thought you were excited to work on the forges?"

I sigh, Percy's words are not enough to distract me. "If I had a family, I'd choose them over camp too," I hold his hand and squeeze it. "Have a good year, Nemo."

He shakes my hand. "Have a fun year, Birdy. Maybe you can come and spend Christmas with me and my mom?"

"You're giving me permission to annoy you outside camp?"

Percy grabs his glass of nectar and drinks from it. "Let's see who gets tired first."

Leo isn't as obnoxious as he pretends to be. He tells them about his connection to Hera, and the girl connects the dots. She doesn't want to use her empath touch on him, but she doesn't need to, Leo gets really quiet after telling his story and keeps his eyes ahead, no longer in the mood for jokes.

Ara process all the information she's gathered, to her it's obvious who the big bad is, but she does not dare to say it out loud, it would mean her future as the daughter of Olympus is bound to that stupid prophecy...

"You know something, don't you?" Piper asks as if reading Ara's thoughts. 

Leo has fallen asleep in front of them so she speaks quietly, though she doesn't need to, the wind is loud enough to hide her voice. "Nothing that could make things better."

"Okay... I just want to say, you know... thank you," Piper squeezes her shoulder. "You must be dead worried about your brother..."

Ara senses dread in Piper, the girl isn't as calm as she appears to be. "He would've wanted me to come. Others are looking for him, so..." She isn't needed. At least here, she feels important. She's a protector, and she likes that these demigods respect her. "And Lily's looking after camp, so I'm not worried."

"Annabeth's sister?" Piper muses. "Is she another daughter of Olympus?"

"Something better," Ara smiles. "She's my best friend."

Lily Saggio is the newest and weirdest camper in this place. She's got pitch-black hair and big gray eyes. Since I came back from Percy's home, I've seen campers give her weary looks when she walks past, they say she's just like Thalia.

"Hi! I'm Ara!"

The girl regards me with distrust, then she glances at the table I was in. I feel like she ran a background check in less than five seconds. "Lily Saggio."

I'll have to carry the conversation. That's okay. "You're lucky you got here during winter and not summer! Where are you from?"

Lily stares at me pondering whether to talk or ignore me. "You're a year-rounder?"

"Yeah!"

"Why weren't you here last week?" I notice she's trying to hide an accent, but I do my best to act like I don't.

"I was invited to my friend's house. Look, he gave me this!" I show her my backpack, which is a teddy bear. I keep priceless things in it: my snacks and the legos Sally gave me as a Christmas/late birthday present. 

"You can leave this place?" Lily's expression shifts.

"Not all the time," I pull Bear and rummage through him. "I promised I wouldn't leave Percy's apartment—and it was Christmas!"

Lily stands up straighter, looking defiant. "I can look after myself, I've fought monsters before," She pulls out a black dagger and shows it to me.

I gasp. "Where did you get that?"

"It showed up on my nightstand after my Nonna..." She pauses and shakes her head. "It's a gift from my patron, so I don't—"

"You don't like it here?" I pull out my box of Legos and Lily's eyes brighten at the sight. "Don't you wanna know who your parent is?"

She frowns. "I know who my dad is."

"Oh! You're an Ares kid? You don't look like Apollo but you'd make an interesting child of Hermes or Dionys—"

"I didn't mean that."

"You know your dad?" I ask, not following the conversation.

"Yes, my mortal parent," she rolls her eyes. "I don't care about the god. They didn't care about me."

To think that way will get her a step closer to joining Luke. I don't want that. "Do I look like I'm Aphrodite's child?"

"What?"

"Do I look it?" I insist.

"You're okay."

This is the first time anyone calls me okay. My brain goes: Well... duh!

"It hardly matters who your godly parent is, you'll grow to love it here," I lock arms with her and place my Legos on her hands. "I'm going to the forges, come and see."

"I don't need a chaperone—"

"You are sooo grumpy," I sigh. "No one would trust me to look after another camper. So!"

Lily waits for me to finish my sentence. "So?"

"They'll leave you alone if I'm with you, I'm not very popular either."

On our way to the forges, I hear a couple of Ares kids shout rude things at Lily, I step in to shut them up and they laugh so hard they forget about her.

"Go away," Lily scowls at me.

I pout a little. "I just wanted to help."

"I don't need you."

"I didn't do that thinking you—"

"I don't care," she clenches her fists. "Never do that again."

When they reach Boreas's palace, two of his children stop them. Zethes stares at the purple cloak covering her shoulders and his smile evaporates. "Ara Jackson."

She gives a start. "Hi. You know my name?"

"You killed Cacus!"

"Who?" Leo asks with amusement.

"It wasn't only me," Ara dismisses the comment. "Can we go in, then?"

Zethes doesn't look pleased. "You'll kill us if we don't let you?"

Ara shrugs. "Sure."

Leo leans closer as they fly down. "So if I get into a nasty fight, could you just smite my opponent? It'd be super helpful if I knew that beforehand..."

"Shut up," Ara scowls, but she's hiding a smile.

When they land, the Boreads get a little nervous about having Festus there. "No, no, no,"  Zethes points at it. "The dragon must be deactivated. We can't have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair."

Ara steps forward. "Stay away from the dragon, then."

"'S'okay, boy," Leo eases the automaton, giving her a reassuring nod. "The dragon's a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I've got a better solution." 

"Destroy?" Cal suggested.

"No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait."

"Leo," Piper intervenes, "what are you—"

"Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others... Ah, here we go."

Leo sneaks his hand inside Festus's left paw and Ara hears a click, the dragon folds until it's a block of bronze. "Um... yeah. Hold on. I think—aha!" A handle pops up along with four wheels at the bottom. "Ta-da! The world's heaviest carry-on bag!"

"Cool!" Ara gets closer to examine it. Every time Leo gets that reaction out of her, he looks ready to throw himself off a rooftop.

"That's impossible," Jason exclaims. "Something that big couldn't—"

"Stop!" Zethes and his brother suddenly point their swords at Leo.

"Hey!" Ara makes her own weapon appear. "What's your problem?"

Leo raises his hands. "Okay... what'd I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don't have to take the dragon as carry-on—"

"Who are you? A child of the South Wind, spying on us?"

"What? No! Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!"

"Smell fire," Cal gets closer. "Fire is bad."

"Oh. Yeah, well... my clothes are kind of singed, and I've been working with oil, and—"

"No!" Zethes tries to touch Leo but Ara keeps him away with her sword. "We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire... on you." 

Ara glances at Leo. He is hiding something. "Hey... look... I don't know—Guys, a little help?"

"Look, there's been a mistake. Leo isn't a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you're not a fire guy," Jason says, which is not great.

"Um..." Leo's indecision makes Ara uneasy.

"Piper," she could do this, but it's better for her sister to get comfortable with her powers. "Talk some sense into these boys, please?"

The girl understands right away. "Zethes? We're all friends here. Put down your swords and let's talk."

"The girl is pretty," he hums, "and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness; but sadly, I cannot romance her at this time." 

"Destroy him now?"

"Sadly, I think—"

"No," Jason insists. "Leo's just a son of Hephaestus. He's no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. I'm the son of Zeus. We're on a peaceful..."

"What did you say?" Zethes snaps. "You are the son of Zeus?"

"Um... yeah," he pauses. "That's a good thing, right? My name is Jason."

"Can't be Jason," Cal says stupidly. "Doesn't look the same."

"No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me—but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millennia ago."

"Wait," the boy continues. "Your Jason... you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?"

"Of course! We were his crewmates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey."

So many demigods gave up their mortality, and most of them had done it for such stupid reasons! Ara can't believe Percy's the exception to the rule, she's seen him push a pull door way too many times.

"Hockey!" Cal says happily.

"But Jason—our Jason—he died a mortal death. You can't be him."

"I'm not."

"So, destroy?"

"No," Zethes pouts. "If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we've been watching for. He's with Jackson, after all."

"Watching for?" Leo repeats. "You mean like in a good way: you'll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching for like in a bad way: he's in trouble?"

"That depends on my father's will," a girl's voice announces.

A brief flash of light comes out of Leo as soon as he sees the girl, but it's so short-lived Ara doesn't even distinguish its color. She scowls at him. Really? Right now? But she doesn't say anything out loud, she's the only one who can see those things anyway. 

The goddess is asking Jason to join her father, apparently, he's got some judgment to make, but Leo is not allowed to come. Jason and Piper don't want to leave him, and Ara doesn't want to either, she doesn't trust Leo will stay put. 

He smiles and obediently sits on top of Festus. "It's fine, guys. No sense causing trouble if we don't have to. You go ahead."

Again, Ara's intrigued. Half the time he's hyper and impatient and now he's just... half a smile that does not reach his eyes. She's never met anyone like him, someone made out of halves.

"Listen to your friend," the young goddess tells them. "Leo Valdez will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you. Now come, King Boreas is waiting." 

Ara wants to sit and have a full-fledged conversation with Leo about his feelings and how he perceives the world, but she's lost practice. Before it was easy to pay attention to others, but Ara's obligations positioned her above many things, including day-to-day interaction with campers.

Lily's impression of me changes after Capture the Flag."This is your first time playing so don't worry, they won't notice you," I undo the clasp of her armor vest before she can stop me and fix it for her.

"What do you mean?" She frowns.

"You're new, they won't ask you to do anything."

She's deeply upset about this. "They should take advantage of all their assets!"

"We're not tools," I tilt my head with amusement. Lily's lived on the streets for far too long. "If you're so sure you can handle it, though... there's something I've always wanted to try."

She wavers. "What is it?"

"I think I can reach the flag faster than our leader. No one ever pays attention to me and it'd be really funny if we get there first instead of our Captain. What do you say?"

Lily makes a face. "That's not a plan."

"Are you a chicken, Saggio?" I don't know why I tease her, but she looks funny when she's angry.

"No!"

"A drachma says I can get to the flag before you can!" I sprint out of sight.

I hear her trying to catch up and that makes me giggle. I move as quickly as possible, but then, just when I'm reaching the limits, Lily comes out of nowhere and tackles me to the ground. We're both lifted in the air and end up hanging upside down from a tree.

"Why did you do that?" I complain. "We could've won!"

"I wasn't letting you get there first, you turned it into a competition!" She says. "What is this?"

"Rope. Beckendorf did it, so we're stuck here until someone finds us. Or so he says..."

"What do you mean?"

"These are designed for heavier demigods," I look up—down, actually—and follow the rope to see where it ends."I'll take your knife, the rope's tied in my direction."

"Turn us around!"

"Are any of your arms free?"

She groans, trying to release herself. "It's my knife!"

"You're bossy," I sigh. "Sit tight while I free us, boss."

I squirm for five whole minutes, but the rope's only getting tighter. Lily tries to stop me, but I'm not giving up. Finally, after a long struggle... Lily's dagger falls out of her belt. 

She lets her head hang in defeat. "I'll scream."

"No!"

"Why not?" She presses. "There's nothing we can do!"

I was telling the truth when I said this was something I'd been planning to do for quite a while, but this is not how I wanted it to go. "We can't be seen like this, your rep will be ruined!"

Two arrows fly through the gap between us, one of them scratches us but we're released in less than a second. Lily lands sideways and I land on my back. 

"Well, well..." a small boy walks up to us smirking. "Out of all the campers, I never thought they'd send you."

I smile sweetly. "Hey, bud, if you can find it in your heart to let us go..."

He seizes two new arrows from his quiver and points them at us. "Get up."

Lily sits up, immensely disappointed... so I start talking. 

"Michael," I charmspeak him. "Hand me your bow." His shoulders relax and the arrows fall at his feet, then he gives me his bow.

"Che cosa..!" Lily whispers in shock.

"The quiver too," Michael hands it to me. I look at it, then at him. "Forget this happened and go to sleep." He drops to the ground, snoring loudly. "So..." I hand Lily the bow. "He caught me, you knocked him out and took his weapons before he could take me. Fair play."

The more agitated she gets, the more it stands out that accent she has. "Have you always been able to do that?"

"You were going to lose, and now you're going back with a prisoner. They'll give you a bigger role next time thanks to that."

"But I didn't do this!"

"So what?" I shrug. "Next time you'll do something better, that'll be enough to compensate for the lie. There is no honor in going down by charmspeak, Lily. You're tough and Michael's got a bad temper, it'll make both of you look good."

"But I'm..." I can't tell if she's angry or flustered. "I was stubborn, I don't deserve a win."

"I was pushing your buttons," I admit. "Please, Michael will prefer this over the truth."

Lily's not convinced. "And you?"

"Teach me to be quiet and we'll be even," I pick up her dagger.

"I wouldn't want you as my enemy," she seizes her weapon and places it on her belt. The gash Michael made on our wrists is bleeding, hers is on the left wrist and mine's on the right. "It's a deal."

Next Chapter ->

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