#Also I apologize for the terrible greeting. I'm no good at writing these.))

[drconstellation]

The Assistant Book Seller

Edit 1 Dec 2023 - added missing information on the "ribbon pattern."

Edit: 3 Dec 2023 - correct information about middle pattern from creator

GABRIEL: Greetings! I'm Jim! It's short for James, but I don't need to keep telling everyone that. I'm an assistant book seller.

I'm sorry. Before I do anything else, I need to apologize for something I need to write further in. I didn't plan to write it, I just kind of bumped into it and, well, I can't ignore it. So...sorry. It's said. Forgive me for what needs to be done.

Although he arrived with nothing but a cardboard box and Rodney the Stunt Fly, Aziraphale made sure Jim was clothed in appropriate raiment while under his protection. We'll forgive him that he took a step back about, oh, fifty years or so to the 1970's, as Jim's overall look is a nod to the famous old sitcom "Open All Hours." So if he looks a little bit out of place, or, a little bit familiar, even, that's why.

While we are used to seeing angels in overcoats, it's Jim's vest that is the particular feature here. But I will take a moment to comment on the overcoat - not just the colour but its lapels. Aziraphale has obviously given him a colour with an earthly connection and one that indicate that he has bought Jim under his protection, but the lapels look quite neutral, with one up and one down. (Muriel is the same in their Inspector uniform, btw) This is the first indication they are between two things at the moment.

Onto the vest.

There is so, so much work and thought put into this vest! It was a one-off commission for the show, and the creator, Sandy Higgins, has said she is not allowed to give away the final design pattern. I have tried to contact her, and I'm waiting for a reply, so in the mean time I thought I would ask my keen knitter of a sister-in-law about one of the patterns I'm not sure about. "Well, that's Fair Isle knitting," she said, but she knew nothing about the individual line pattern I was interested in. Hmm, I kind of know that already, its in the notes that are guiding me for this meta, but hey, why not do a broader search and see what comes up?

So once I got back home I did. "Fair Isle knitting patterns" hmm...Wikipedia page for starters...what on *earth* is that at the bottom of the page...? YOU ARE. FRIKKING. KIDDING ME!!!!!!!

"See also: Gumbys"

oh ffs

I am so sorry that needs must make me mention Monty Python yet again, but here we are. And we must mention them, because this link is just too...unbelievably, deliciously good.

If you aren't familiar with the Monty Python catalogue, and don't recognize the mention of Gumbys, they were a set of characters that dressed and spoke in a certain way but the main points to take away were they wore woolen vests in the Fair Isle knitted style and their catch-phrase was - wait for it - "My brain hurts!"

I think we've heard that somewhere before?

CROWLEY: When you first arrived, you said you were here because they were planning to do 'Something Terrible' to you. So you remembered it then. Remember it now. GABRIEL: It hurts to remember. My head isn't built for that.

Right. Now we've got that out of the way...back to the serious stuff.

The colours used in the vest are not your typical angel colours. There is a base of angelic off-white and there are some bits of purple for his royalty around the shoulder area - sometimes you need to look carefully for it. Otherwise it is dominated by vintage shades of red and green. Well. Who's an agent of change driven by love, then?

The horizontal stripe pattern is partly to remind us of the classic biblical robes with stripes that ran along them, much like the style of Crowley's black and red robe in the Job minisode, but is also part of the traditional Fair Isles pattern work. And each row only has two colours, but up around the shoulder area we do see purple start to sneak in as a third colour.

On to the incorporated symbols! I'm going to go from bottom to top.

On the lowest two we feature Crowley and Aziraphale. We have Crowley's demon satyr tail from the Good Omens logo on the lowest stripe - the double-headed arrow.

The next stripe is Aziraphale, with a variation of the classic OXO pattern ("hugs and kisses.") The X is meant to represent his angel wings, and the O is modified to mimic the "o" with a halo in the Good Omens logo. I've highlighted all three in the image on the right.

The third row up is a Sumerian Star pattern that represents one of the flowers associated with Gabriel, the lily. They are supposed to represent the purity of Mary, mother of Jesus, as he had one in his hand when he visited her during the Annunciation.

The row above that is what I believe to be a Byzantium pattern, and is included to show "an Angel's ability to be timeless."

The next three rows are still under a bit of a question mark as I write this. I plan to come back and edit it in if I find the answer.

The bottom of the three is the Duke of Buccleuch pattern, "to celebrate the long and necessary contribution that the cottage industry of hand knitted items."

The middle one - ? (perhaps you, the reader, know? It looks like a spiralling ribbon if I stand back, but that isn't sparking any connections, either.)

Edit: @noneorother tells me in a reblog (below) that this pattern represents the shoelace from the magic incantation Aziraphale uses "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace." So it is ribbon-like! This then points to the Second Coming, as it the shoelace references the end of the book, and the last paragraph of the book references Yeats poem "The Second Coming" as well as the novel 1984. To me it is then also telling us there is a cycle occurring, or a cycle that needs to be renewed. This fits in with some other clues other meta-writers have been picking up.

Edit 2: Turns out none of that was correct - I heard back from the creator herself and it's actually the double-ended satyr tail pattern again! It just seems to make a bit of an illusion of a ribbon or shoelace.

The pattern below is a modified OXO pattern.

The top one looks like two rams horns facing each other. A hollowed out rams horn can be used as a trumpet, and is known as a shofar in Jewish religion. Gabriel was traditionally known to carry a trumpet.

The ancient meander pattern would be recognized by most people, included as another classic timeless pattern found all over the world. For some it symbolizes eternity and endless flow.

The wheels here appear to be Michael's ophanim wheels, that would have eyes around the rims.

The hourglass is to remind us that time is running out. Memento mori - "Remember that you die." It is a major theme in both series.

Right up high, just before we lose the rest of the vest inside the overcoat, we get a glimpse of a large diamond-shaped icon. I wonder if this is another stylized set of angel wings, like we saw in the Job minisode on Aziraphale's golden collar.

To finish off the outfit, he is wearing dark gray trousers with sneakers! I'm sure that's so he could keep sneaking up on Aziraphale in the shop, haha. His shirt seems a little too large for him and the tie is knotted too high and is not settled along his centerline. It's all at odds with his previous neat and sharp appearance as Supreme Archangel Gabriel.

I'd like to say a big thank you to @aduckwithears for helping me with information on the vest and finding the creator's other social media sites. You can see their two posts about it here and here.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 8 (Bradley 'Rooster Bradshaw fic)

I would like to start off by apologizing for being MIA for god knows how long. Life has been chaotic, to say the least, lots of big events in my family, in my job, and in my relationship. But I'm hoping things have started to calm down and allow for more time for writing and such.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

You were scrambling trying to find an outfit appropriate for a job interview. It had been nearly 5 years since your last job interview. You switched to travel nursing where you were matched to hospitals by an agency, so the last time you interviewed for a nursing job was your first job out of school. It felt weird wearing business casual to the hospital, it was nerve wracking. You decided since it was around lunch time, you’d try FaceTiming Bradley to get his opinion on your outfit choice of a black pencil skirt and a floral blouse. Though part of you knew his opinion would be positive and this call was more of an ego boost than anything.

His face appeared on the screen upon answering and he propped his phone up on a table so you could see most of his torso. Damn, you could tell he wore that flight suit well.

“What a pleasant surprise!” He beamed, “what’s up, Sweetheart?”

“I need you to look at my outfit for my interview… I haven’t worn business casual since my first job interview out of nursing school like 5-6 years ago.” You explained. 

“I’m sure you look beautiful, let me see.” He said.

You propped your phone up on your kitchen counter and took a step back so he could see your entire outfit.

“I was right!” He exclaimed, “You look absolutely beautiful!”

“Really? Ya sure?” You asked doing a little spin.

He nodded, “Oh yes, you look gorgeous yet professional. I’d definitely hire you.”

“Can you give me a little Outfit of the Day too?” You proposed, “I’ve never seen you in your work clothes.”

“Like an influencer?” He asked.

You giggled, “Exactly like an influencer.”

He stood up from his seat and backed up so that his full body was in the frame, “So… my flight suit is from the Navy, my boots are also from the Navy, my sunglasses are from Ray Ban, and my ability to put together a sentence is from the disgusting amount of caffeine I’ve been drinking since I woke up.”

“Mine too!” You grabbed your Celsius and showed it to him. “Twins!”

“What do ya say we go to the Hard Deck tonight to celebrate your interview?” Bradley proposed.

“But what if it goes terribly?” You asked.

He smiled, “I highly doubt that it will. But if it does, we can celebrate that you’re still a badass fucking nurse.”

You nodded, “Okay, that sounds good.”

“You’re gonna be great,” he said, “any hospital, in any unit, would be so goddamn lucky to have you.”

You sighed, “Thanks Bradley, that means a lot. I gotta head out in a few but I’ll talk to you later.”

Bradley winked, “Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Did you invite Sexy Nurse to the Hard Deck tonight?” Phoenix greeted Rooster outside of the locker room getting straight to the point.

“She has a name,” he corrected her, “but yes, I did.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “She’s always gonna be Sexy Nurse to me, she and all her little friends. Ya know how I feel about girls in healthcare.”

“I never understood your fixation until I met Y/N.” Bradley chuckled, “But now, I absolutely get it.”

“Something about a woman in scrubs.” Natasha shook her head.

He shrugged, “I dunno, Y/N had a job interview this afternoon and she looks like a dream in business casual too… and shorts and a t-shirt. The girl could make a paper bag look sexy.” 

“Ooooh Rooster, you’re into this girl.” She did a little happy dance.

He blushed a little bit, “Yeah… I am. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this crazy about someone.”

His phone dinged in his pocket, he pulled it out to see a text from Y/N.

Y/N: It went really really well. I’m not sure how many other people they’re interviewing but I vibed really well with the manager. Seems like they have a great unit too. It’ll be a little bit of a drop in pay since I won’t be on a travel contract, but I think I could make it work.

Bradley: I knew you’d be great! That unit would be lucky as fuck to have you.

Y/N: Thanks Bradley, what time should I meet you at the Hard Deck?

Bradley: I will be picking you up at 7:30. 

Y/N: Bradley…

Bradley: Y/N.

Y/N: You don’t have to do that.

Bradley: I know, but I want to.

Y/N: Well alright. I’ll see you at 7:30, Bradshaw :) 

When he pulled up to her apartment in his Bronco, Y/N was already standing out front. She was wearing a short casual cotton sundress with white low top Chuck Taylors. She was an absolute vision. 

“‘Evening, Bradshaw!” She greeted him loudly over the noise of the engine.

“‘Evening Y/L/N!” Bradley jumped out from the driver's side and walked around to open the passenger door, “You look… beautiful, really beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed and she kissed him on the cheek before climbing into the passenger’s seat.

Bradley looked over at her, “You missed, Sweetheart.”

She giggled, “I did, didn’t I? Climb in and let me right my wrong.”

He did as he was told and Y/N rewarded him with a sweet kiss. 

“Hang on,” She gently wiped his lips with her thumb, “I left some lipstick on ya.”

Rooster chuckled, “Leave it on, wipe it off. I don’t care as long as I get to keep tasting your lips all night.”

She bit her lip, “That can absolutely be arranged.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley held out his hand with a sweet smile as the two of you walked from the parking lot towards the entrance of The Hard Deck.

You sheepishly took it, did he really want to make an entrance like this? You’d only been talking for a few weeks.

“Why do you look so surprised?” He asked.

You try to find the right words, “I’ve just��� never had anyone be so… forward about liking me.”

“Well get used to it, Sweetheart.” He gave your hand a small squeeze, “‘Cause I’m gonna be all up in your pretty face.”

He only let go of your hand to open the door of the bar, placing a hand on the small of your back as he guided you in. A beautiful dark haired woman waved to Bradley from behind the bar and gave him a wink.

“Do you know her?” You asked over the music and loud chatter of the bar.

Bradley waved back at her, “That’s Penny, she’s Mav’s girlfriend and she owns this place.”

Before you could reply, you heard familiar voices calling to you.

“Nurse Y/N!” Jake’s southern drawl greeted you excitedly, “Can’t believe you’re still hanging out with Rooster, we thought you’d be bored of him by now.”

“Don’t listen to Bagman, Y/N!” Natasha greeted you with a friendly hug, “We are all thrilled that you’re still around. Bradley’s flying the best he has in a while since you showed up.”

You smirked and looked over at the beautiful mustached man next to you, “Is that so?” 

His cheeks flushed, “Possibly, but even bigger news, Y/N crushed her interview on her dream unit today!”

“That calls for a drink!” Mickey/Fanboy said, “What can I get you guys?”

You thought for a minute, “Tequila soda with lots of lime wedges. Let me know how much I owe you.”

“Oh no,” he chuckled, “All your drinks are on Rooster tonight. I’ll square it away with him.”

Bradley nodded, “Damn right, grab me whatever you’re having, Fanboy.”

“Hey Roo,” Jake passed him a pool cue, “I know you’re flying has been top notch. But I bet ya still suck at pool.”

He barked out a laugh, “You’re so fucking on, Hangman.”

Jake looked around and smirked, “Let’s make things even more interesting… winner gets to dance with the pretty nurse in the sundress.”

Bradley looks over at you, “You okay with that, Sweetheart?”

You gave him a nod, “Beat his ass, Bradshaw.”

You sipped on your second tequila soda of the night, watching the sickeningly close pool game with baited breath. Bradley was stripes and Jake was solids, they each had two balls left on the table. Bradley lined up for a shot and hit the cue ball towards one of his last stripes. Unfortunately, the cue ball bounced off the wall after sinking his stripe in the pocket, hitting the 8 ball into another pocket.

The whole dagger squad let out a roar of disappointment, except for Jake of course.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Bradley cried out.

“You wanna run away Y/N?” Phoenix nudged you, “We can escape out the back door.”

You shook your head, “Eh, it’s okay. A bet’s a bet. I made my bed and I gotta lie in it.”

“That’s very noble of you, Y/N.” Bob patted you on the back.

Bradley came up to you and planted a big kiss on your lips, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay, you just gotta promise to cut in once the song is over.”

He grinned, “Oh I will be counting down until the very last note.”

“What shall I put on for our dance, m’lady?” Jake asked you with a cheeky wink.

Bradley rolled his eyes, “She actually loves country, Hangman. Maybe playing music she likes will keep her from getting sick all over you.”

You giggled as Jake walked towards the old school jukebox, “You all are children.”

A few moments later, the intro to Neon Moon by Brooks & Dunn started playing.

“Damn it.” You cursed to yourself.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Bradley asked.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I fucking love this song.”

“It’s a classic.” Jake held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

You blew a kiss to Bradley before taking Jake’s hand, “Remember our deal, Bradshaw!”

You and Jake two stepped along to the country classic, cracked jokes, and discussed how between the two of you, Bradley would learn to love country music.

“Before Rooster comes over and tears you away, I just want to thank you for taking such good care of him, as his nurse and now as his… lady friend.” Jake said quietly into your ear while also maintaining a respectful distance, “I know I give him a lot of shit and it may not seem like it but… I really care for the guy.”

You looked surprised at his gratefulness, “Of course, Jake. Even when I was just his nurse, it was clear to me that Bradley is a really special person. I feel really lucky to be getting to know him as Bradley the man, not the patient.”

“I have never seen him so starry eyed for someone, Y/N.” Jake added, “You make him really happy.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “He makes me really happy, too.”

As the last few notes finished out the song, Bradley was quickly behind Jake, “Time to go, Seresin. You got your dance.”

“Yes sir,” Jake gave you a cheeky wink as if to say, Don’t you dare tell him all the nice things I just said about him,  “She’s all yours, Roo.”

Bradley switched places with his friend, placing one hand on your waist and holding your hand with the other. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and he pulled you close. You couldn’t hear what song was playing, all you could focus on was his heartbeat.

“That was the worst four minutes of my life.” He grumbled into your ears.

You shrugged, “Not the worst dance I’ve ever had but I’m definitely happier to be back with you.”

He kissed the crown of your head, “Glad to hear it.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Y/N was a few tequila sodas deep, she wasn’t really drunk at all… just a little tipsy and very giggly. This was a side of her that Bradley hadn’t seen a whole lot of and he was loving it. She was also a little bit more handsy and playful, too. It was as if the liquid courage was allowing her to let her guard down.

“You are so damn pretty.” He mumbled into her neck and kissed it.

She let out a quiet little moan and then froze, realizing what she had just done.

Rooster raised a playful yet questioning eyebrow at her, “Did I find your spot?”

Her cheeks flushed bright red, “Maybe… maybe one of them.”

He took her by the waist and guided her to turn around and face him, “There are more?”

“There are many…” she bit her lip and looked up at him with big doe eyes, making his dick twitch. 

He pulled her in closer, “Tell me all about these spots, Sweetheart.”

She shook her head and whispered in his ear, “But that’ll take away all the fun… you gotta find them yourself, Bradshaw”

And with that, Rooster absolutely melted.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

@shanimallina87

[am-i-interrupting]

I'm curious what Vox's first impressions were of the Alastor's daughter, like as a kid, I mean he briefly mentions it but I kinda wanna read his reaction about learning the radio host he grew up listening to has a daughter (and if he learned before the serial killer thing was announced, did imagine scenarios of meeting the radio man and his daughter like little kids do with their imagination or teens with their daydreams).

Another inquiry is what his impressions were when he read the reader's book (obviously he read it) and if he could sense there was more to it than the words written down

OATSH Master List

To answer your second question succinctly, yes. Not to the extent that he would suspect them of anything but he would have definitely picked up on some very subtle hints of defensiveness when it came to Alastor’s killings. I think he’d probably read it as them feeling like they need justification for still caring about him despite what he did but in reality, it’s less about their own justification and more so like a “he’s not a monster. He was helping people, why can you see that?” you know?

To answer your first question, thank you for giving me a reason to write this:

A Voice on the Radio | Vox x Alastor’s Child Reader

It was a surprise when the radio switched from producing the sound of blues to voices. For the past week, nothing but blues music came from the station. A very stark change from the upbeat jazz that normally played. There had also been no speaking. Not a single soul had spoken for the last nine days.

A throat cleared. “Is this on?”

“The light,” another, much younger sounding voice said.

The fifteen year old paused eating breakfast and looked at his mother who was staring at the radio with furrowed brows. Neither voice was familiar.

“Ah, yes, right,” the first voice said with a laugh. “Good morning all, we would like to apologize for the radio silence on our part this past week. Some unexpected tragedies came our way and with them uncovered some gruesome truths.

“The dearly beloved host, Alastor, has passed. He was killed by a misfire of a hunter. A truly tragic event but with it came to light the horrific acts of the late Alastor. As you likely know if you’re a long time listener, for the past decade or so, there have been many murders that have befallen this otherwise serene part of Louisiana and it’s been confirmed to be the acts of our previous show host.

“Today, I have here with me the one person who knew him better than anyone else and can hopefully shine some light upon the situation and perhaps give some peace to the families of the victims. Alastor’s daughter—“

He looked towards the radio now. His breakfast was forgotten now. His fork barely dangled in his hand.

Not only was his mother’s (and by extension his own) favorite radio show host dead but also a murderer and he had a daughter? So much information in less than three minutes. His brain was struggling to keep up.

Even his father set down his paper to listen in.

“Why don’t you say hello to the people?”

“I’m not dignifying you with a proper greeting until you dignify me with a proper introduction. You’re doing a terrible job, Gregory,” the younger voice said.

He smiled curiously at the radio.

“I— um, I’m sorry?” the man, Gregory, said. There was only silence in reply. An awkward chuckle, “Well, my apologies then. Let me introduce the daughter of our show host—“ Gregory said your name and silently he tested it on his tongue— “Do you have anything to say to the people before we begin?”

“Yes, I would like to sincerely apologize for Gregory’s lack of bravado and charisma. I did do my best to convince them that Raymond would be better but alas,” you said.

That’s when he got it. You did sound like a younger, more feminine version of your father. Down to the tilts of the accent.

There was a longer pause and then, barely picked up and barely able to decipher, “You have your father’s creepy smile.” Louder, intended to be heard, “Why don’t we get into the questions then?”

“Yes, let’s. The less time spent listening to you, the better for everyone, hm?”

“You little— So—“ the sounds of hands clapping together— “the reports I have here suggest that you knew about the murders. Was there a reason you didn’t say anything?”

“I’ve been raised by a serial killer, Gregory. Please, take a guess,” you replied.

He couldn’t help but snort as reached for his glass. His mother shot him a look. He bowed his head down as he took a sip.

“Right, well,” Gregory cleared his throat, “did you happen to know his motivations?”

“He’s a very righteous man,” you said. “You’ve seen him when people are being disrespectful. He’s not just some ravaging animal. He’s very selective.”

“Was,” Gregory corrected. “He was very selective, you mean.”

“Was,” you repeated and he could hear you seething even through the crackle of the radio.

“Oh, heavens! Get your stuff or we’re going to be late,” his mother said.

He didn’t want to go though. He wanted to stay and listen to you on the radio. He was having fun listening to your snark.

It truly surprised him, impressed him how you were able to have such moxie so soon after tragedy. He couldn’t imagine being so quick witted so quickly.

His mother called his name and he snapped back to reality. As he headed out the door, he heard you snap back at Gregory one more time, “And would you call yourself a saint? Don’t think no one’s noticed the looks you’ve shared with Ms. Brown, as a married man, no less!”

He compressed a laugh to his chest as he followed his mother.

The next day he saw a paper with a headline related to a serial killer in Louisiana. He paid for the paper and read another interview with you.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like. What would such a snarky, confident girl look like? He wanted to know. He wanted to meet you. Even in tragedy, you seemed like good company to have.

[spxdxrpxnk]

matchies! : GWEN STACY / GHOST SPIDER

it was so, so dumb, but you and GWEN had matching tooth gaps.

( notes: this is written by a minor about an underage character, so nsfw/18+/'minors dni' blogs please do not interact with this post! thanks!

this is gonna be a little series about how you'd match with various characters!!! it was supposed to be one post, like a paragraph per character, but gwen went from a paragraph to 2k words, so... <3

warning: there's mention of blood and spit here! nothing too graphic or gross, just prepare yourself after "and.. well, he missed pretty badly."

also, i tried to experiment with colors because of the way gwen's universe works. if it's a headache for anyone, let me know and i'll change it to the way i normally color my writing! )

GWEN was the pink to your orange, the deep purple to your bright blue. you were pretty different, yet complimentary when placed next to each other.

she was more reserved at first, sticking to her best friend PETER and virtually no one else, while you were quite the social butterfly.

you never had a set group of friends, bouncing between friend groups with ease. you even befriended the quiet kids everyone else avoided- and you weren't even isolated for it. that's how much everyone loved you.

GWEN knew you because you were friends with PETER, who would mention you regularly when they'd recap all the good parts of the school day while walking home.

you stood up for him against the jerks who'd pick on him whenever she wasn't there to do it.

you had her respect, even though you apparently didn't even know her name.

you called her GWANDA.

regardless, she'd smile and wave back at you when you greeted her in the hallway in passing. "hey peter, hi gwanda!"

one morning, you both were the only ones in the hallway.

GWEN came to school late, having slept through the entirety of first period because she was exhausted from patrolling the entire night. you were sent out by a teacher to run an errand, just coming back from the main office.

"hi gwen!" you greeted with a smile when you noticed her, which gave her pause as she closed her locker and eyed you suspiciously.

"... hey."

"what's up? aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" you asked casually, as if you weren't being totally weird right now, with a curious tilt of your head that GWEN silently found only a little bit adorable.

"came late, i slept through my alarms."

you simply nodded, and she was silently thanking you for not questioning her further. she was terrible at lying on the spot.

"what about you?"

you held up a 3D-printed hall pass, from room 218. "had to bring the permission slips for a college trip to the office."

GWEN hummed softly in response, silence falling over the both of you. she felt awkward, so close yet slightly disconnected from you; the environment reflecting that. the hallway was a deep blue and you were a nice baby blue, whilst she was a dark purple that almost blended in.

"... soooo…" she drawled, glancing around before making awkward eye contact with you again. "we should.. probably get going…?"

you chuckled a little, "yeah, we should. where are you going right now? i'll walk you to class."

she was about to politely decline with a billion apologies, the way she always did when she got too awkward.

but then, she got that itching in the back of her skull that wouldn't go away whenever she was about to make a decision. the one that always made her do the exact opposite of what she was about to do.

"... sure. i'm in 208 right now." she said with a smile, before walking side by side with you up the staircase.

you attempted to bid her farewell and simply walk by, but GWEN grabbed the wrist of your free hand when you were right outside of her class. "why'd you call me gwen?"

you looked at her like she was a little bit stupid, "'cause.. that's your name...?"

"no- well, yeah, it is, but-" she huffed, a piece of her hair flying up. "you never call me gwen. it's always-"

"oh! yeah, i always call you gwanda. that's only a joke though, did peter never tell you?" you continued at the confused little shake of her head. "the one time you weren't here for phys ed, we had a substitute coach and she kept calling you gwanda for some reason. if it bothers you, i'll stop-"

"nono!" GWEN didn't know why she was so bothered by the thought of you not calling her by a stupid name. "it's okay, it's.. it's funny, i like when you call me it."

you just smiled at her- too sweetly, her heart was hammering in her chest. you slipped your wrist from her grasp, which she forgot she was holding, instead holding her hand with your own. she could feel the lockers around you both fading into a muted color she couldn't even care to notice, only focused on you and the pretty purple you both became.

"okay then, i'll call you gwanda for the rest of our lives."

woah.

she could only hope you didn't notice the blush on her face as she silently cursed you for saying something so.. so intimate, so casually.

"uh- yeah, yeah, cool. totally." she stammered, nodding as she returned your smile.

"later, gwanda."

you slipped your hand out of hers and waved before turning your back to her, making your way to the class you were supposed to be in.

"yeah, later…"

coincidentally, it happened in gym class, during the mandatory class soccer game.

the class was split into four teams. GWEN, you, and PETER were all on different ones.

GWEN's team wasn't playing at the moment, but yours and PETER's were so she was sitting on the sidelines and cheering for him. he actually had the ball for once!

he was clumsily dribbling it down the field toward you, goalie of the opposing team. and you, ever the try-hard, dove for the ball right as he went for a goal-scoring kick.

and.. well, he missed pretty badly.

you fell to your knees, clutching your mouth, while the ball pathetically rolled into the goal behind you.

your team, most of PETER's team, and even people from the sidelines got up and rushed to crowd around you two before GWEN could even register what just happened.

PETER, of course, was the first person to kneel down next to you, apologizing profusely while trying to get you to move your hands from your mouth to assess the damage. GWEN had to push, duck, and weave past her fellow students to get to you both, and she made it just in time to see you move your hand from your mouth.

it was covered in blood and your saliva, dripping onto the polished gym floor. PETER backed away a little, utterly horrified, not sure what to do.

a few tears, presumably from the pain, streaked down your cheeks as you blinked heavily.

GWEN had to give some people in the crowd her meanest glare when they started jeering at her friend for kicking the most beloved student in the school in the mouth.

"'m okay, guys-" you started, slightly pained but as optimistic as ever, but you and everyone else were a bit startled by the lisp in your speech that wasn't there before.

she tentatively kneeled down in front of you next to PETER with her hand firm on his shoulder to calm him down, trying to get a look into your mouth while you spoke to confirm her suspicions.

but you didn't have to speak again.

you toyed with something in your mouth before lifting your hand to spit into it- a tooth.

the gym exploded into angry reds and oranges so quickly, it almost gave GWEN a headache. the three of you stood out in various shades of blue and purple.

the gym teacher, who wasn't paying attention the entire time, only came to disperse the crowd when everyone started yelling at PETER for kicking you in the mouth and knocking your tooth out.

he was practically hyperventilating, so the teacher told him to go to the locker room and chill out, and make sure to grab some paper towel to get your blood and spit off the floor.

GWEN was told to walk you to the nurse, after leading you to the locker room as well.

you didn't seem all too bothered about your tooth being knocked out. you rinsed your mouth out in the locker room, cleaned yourself and your newly isolated tooth of blood, and were just admiring it while she walked next to you silently.

she didn't know what to say besides 'sorry my best friend knocked your tooth out' or 'sucks to suck', so she chose to keep quiet.

then, you gasped loud and clapped your hand on GWEN's shoulder harshly, making her flinch and turn to you, a frantic orange in direct contrast with your vibrant blue. "what's wrong, are you-"

"we match!"

it took her a second to register what you said, and when she did she just stared at you blankly, slowly fading into a usual purple that she was with you. "... huh?"

you smiled that million watt grin of yours, even though your lips were a little swollen, and GWEN noticed- it was one of your front teeth that was knocked out. she huffed, relieved that you weren't dying or something, before simply glancing at you, unimpressed.

"seriously?" was all she could ask. it wouldn't be the first or last time someone made fun of the gap between her two front teeth, but she couldn't really tell if you were doing that or if you were being genuine.

that is until you nodded enthusiastically.

"yeah! i mean, i don't think mine looks as cute as yours does," wow, okay, smooth. "but now we're matching!"

… okay, yeah, you were being serious. it was kind of endearing, if she was honest, and GWEN couldn't hold back the smile on her face.

"not really," she humored you. "since mine is natural."

you just sucked your teeth, the sound less sharp than it'd usually be, which got a laugh out of her.

"ooh, ooh- we should take a picture!"

"a picture? for what?"

"you know, to remember this day forever?"

"the day you got kicked in the mouth and your tooth was knocked out?" she questioned sarcastically, shaking her head fondly at your totally serious nod.

after a very intense mini staring contest, GWEN knew she lost when she brightened into a blue matching yours, making her roll her eyes as if she was being burdened by the childlike joy you brought her. "fine." she relented, grinning at your little cheer as she pulled out her phone.

she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you close as if you'd been friends forever, and you leaned your head against hers like it was totally normal.

both of you smiled wide, showing your tooth gaps to the camera, and she had to hold down a laugh at the way you were holding your knocked out tooth in frame.

you said a very corny "cheeese!", and once the picture was taken, she couldn't stop herself from bursting out laughing at the lisp in your voice.

and you were definitely playing it up just to make her laugh, talking in a very exaggerated nerdy-lispy voice that had her giggling all the way to the nurse's office.

you eventually got the tooth put back in at the dentist, which you missed a few days of school for.

thankfully, PETER found you on social media and peer pressured encouraged GWEN to reach out to you after she kept asking random people she'd never speak to otherwise where you were.

double thankfully, you didn't question how she found your socials and were happy to give her your phone number.

she definitely lectured you about how irresponsible that was of you over text, but only after she finished debating you over why her naming your contact "gappy 2" ( she'd be "gappy 1" for you ) wouldn't make any sense if you won't have the gap anymore.

to end the debate, you told her to hold on a second and then sent her a selfie.

you were smiling as bright as ever, your missing tooth back in it's place. your lips weren't swollen and you weren't bloody and drooling. GWEN just admired you for a few minutes before she actually noticed the gap between your two front teeth.

a gap that wasn't there before one of them got knocked out.

gappy 1 💫: Woah, you actually have one now?

Gappy #2 💞: yea!

Gappy #2 💞: the dentist lady said they can't do much about it ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Gappy #2 💞: besides give me a retainer? which, hell no!

Gappy #2 💞: so we're officially twinning forever now 🫶

gappy 1 💫: Lol. You dodged a bullet, retainers suck

gappy 1 💫: It looks cute on you though :)

Gappy #2 💞: aww ty! but i could never outdo the doer <3

GWEN would admire the selfie you guys took that fateful day whenever she was missing you.

and then gaze longingly look at the one you took together the day you came back to school, showing your now actually matching tooth gaps.

your smiles were always so contagious, GWEN found herself matching your energy all the time. when you got hype and became a bright orange, she did too. when you chilled out after and faded into a comfy blue, so did she.

before you, GWEN never really smiled unless she was with loved ones or if someone told a joke. and when she did, it was close-lipped, since someone always managed to bring up her tooth gap and ruin her mood.

but she smiles so much more now, always with her teeth, and no comment can bring her down.

seeing you be just as radiant, if not more, with your gap-toothed smile encouraged her to smile the same way. even when you weren't around.

sometimes, when you're bored and lounging in her bedroom, you just flash her your teeth.

( like 😬 )

and she'd do the same back, not a word spoken.

neither of you have figured out what it means yet, and you probably never will.

but just seeing your tooth gap makes GWEN's heart thump a little faster, and reminds her of how much she loves you, so she thinks it doesn't matter.

[karmaisakhaleesi]

hi, so I really liked your fic butterfly repose. And I saw that requests are open! Would it be okay to request a tsu'tey x reader that's enemies to lovers? ty so much! 🥰

first, hi! and thank you so much~ i've been meaning to write a Tsu'tey x reader for a while! so here it is! i hope it's alright if i make the reader a human in an avatar body, let me know if you would prefer a Na'vi reader! 💙

masterlist~

warnings~ language, blood mentioned, some violence.

wordcount~ 2.2k+

italic dialogue is in Na'vi

also apologies if anyone is too ooc!

Gripping the bow your fingers tensed as you notched an arrow. Staring down the target you let go, the end of the arrow grazing your cheek as it flew, and missed the target by ten feet.

Grumbling you stepped to retrieve it when you felt a hand on your shoulder, "Straighten your back more, your posture is terrible."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks as Tsu'tey's foot kicked your legs apart, and his hands linger on your waist as he adjusted your posture. You couldn't deny the way your heart raced at his touch, despite the frustration at your missed shot.

"Tsu'tey, what are you doing?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you felt his breath on your neck.

"Helping you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "You have potential, (Y/N), but you need to work on your technique."

His hands moved to your arms as he guided you through the proper motions of drawing the bow and releasing the arrow. You couldn't help but feel a thrill run through you as you felt his body pressed against yours, his scent filling your senses.

As you shot another arrow, you felt a hand wrap around yours, guiding your aim toward the target. "You're still awful," Tsu'tey said, his voice icy as let go of your hand.

The cool grey metal of the link lid greeted you when you opened your eyes, and you pushed it open to find Grace staring down at you.

"You alright?" she asked before turning back to say something to Norm.

"Fine, just tired," you whispered as you clambered out. It had only been a week since your transfer to the Hallelujah Mountains and you already wished you were home.

Rubbing your eyes you laid back on your cot, ignoring Grace calling out to you, "You know you have that video log due today, right?"

Groaning you flopped onto your stomach, wanting nothing more than to forget the events of the day, and how much Tsu'tey had gotten on your nerves.

Breakfast was quiet, like most days, other than Norm muttering to himself about some samples.

Stretching you cleared your plate and nodded to Jake, "I'm heading in, better hurry or you'll be late."

The second you opened your eyes you regretted it. Walking through the tree you found Neytiri and Tsu'tey waiting for you. Neytiri greeted you, and Tsu'tey simply gestured for you to follow him. You couldn't help but bristle at that, he only ever seemed to treat you with disdain, and anger that he took out on you during your training.

Following Tsu'tey, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in your stomach. You had no idea what he wanted from you this time, but you were sure it wasn't going to be pleasant.

As you walked deeper into the forest, you couldn't help but notice the way Tsu'tey moved, how every step was graceful and fluid, like he was a part of the forest itself. You, on the other hand, stumbled and tripped over roots and branches, feeling awkward and clumsy in comparison.

Finally, you arrived at a small clearing, and Tsu'tey turned to face you. "Today, we will work on your hand-to-hand combat skills," he said, his voice cold and unyielding.

You couldn't help but groan inwardly at the thought. You had never been particularly good at fighting, and Tsu'tey's training sessions were always brutal.

But you didn't have a choice. You had to become one of the people and complete your mission.

With a deep breath, you readied yourself for the training session. Tsu'tey charged at you, and you tried to dodge his attack, but he was too fast. His fist connected with your stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

You stumbled backward, trying to catch your breath, as Tsu'tey circled around you. "Come on alien," he taunted. "Is that all you've got?"

Gritting your teeth, you lunged at him, throwing a punch that he easily blocked. He retaliated with a swift kick to your side, and you crumpled to the ground.

"You're weak," he said, looking down at you with disdain. "You'll never survive and become one of the people if you can't even defend yourself."

You struggled to your feet, feeling bruised and dizzy, and threw s fist at him. This time it landed, on his chin that is. Watching as he stumbled back holding his now bloodied lip, you kicked at his side.

Grabbing your foot he threw you to the ground.

You gasped for air as he loomed over you, his expression dark and menacing. "You're a disgrace," he spat. "You'll never be one of us."

You felt a surge of anger at his words, and you pushed yourself up off the ground. "I may not be one of you, but I am not a disgrace," you said, your voice shaking.

Tsu'tey sneered at you, but you refused to back down. You had been upset before, with all the rude and snide remarks he made about you, but now, you were pissed.

Filled with anger, you charged at him, dodging his attacks and landing a few hits of your own. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, and the thrill of the fight took over.

Finally, he stumbled backward, looking surprised at your sudden burst of energy. You took advantage of his momentary distraction, and landed a final blow that sent him sprawling to the ground.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and exhausted. Then, Tsu'tey stood up, and stalked off into the trees, leaving you alone.

You slumped down on a log next to Jake, your blood boiling as Mo'at tended to your wounds. Hissing as she cleaned a particularly nasty cut Jake raised a brow at you, "Tough day?"

Groaning in frustration you cover your face with your hands, "Tsu'tey, that skxawng! He makes me so angry!"

Standing, you storm off as Neytiri and Jake exchange glances, "So," Jake says before following Neytiri for more training.

Weeks had since then, and now Tsu'tey had decided to take you on a hunt. But not just any hunt, his goal was to see if you were ready to become one of the people. Although he already knew what the answer would be, he thought to himself as you crawled through the underbrush with him.

Putting a finger to his mouth, he gestured forward, watching as a yerik came into view. Watching as you notched an arrow, he corrected your posture, his hands lingering on your wrists before letting go.

Steadying yourself, his eyes followed the arrow as it flew forward pinning the yerik to the ground. Leaping up he followed you to its side, the beast silent as you took out your knife and began to speak.

"I see you, sister, and thank you, your spirit goes with Eywa, and your body stays behind to become part of the people."

You sheath your knife and pull the arrow from the yerik as Tsu'tey looks down at you, his eyes full of surprise, but also a hint of anger.

Shaking his head, he mutters, "You are not ready."

You freeze and look up at him, "What?"

"Let me say it in English for you, alien, you. are. not. ready," he accentuates each word with a jab at your chest before turning to leave.

Blood boiling with anger you toss your bow to the ground and grab his shoulder, turning him to face you.

"I'm not ready?" you shout, ears pinning back against your hair as you hiss angrily at him.

"How many months has it been since I started training with you? I do everything perfectly and yet all you have to say is, 'horrible, a rock sees more, and yet I'm not ready?"

Tsu'tey slaps your hand away before turning to leave again. But before he can he feels your palm against his cheek.

Laughing sardonically he sneers at you, "You will never be one of the people, alien."

And with that he leaves, leaving you standing over the dead yerik, hot tears of anger rolling down your cheeks.

The walk back to hometree is a long one, and as soon as you find Jake and Neytiri you nearly burst into tears at his words, "y/n! Neytiri said I'm ready-"

He's cut off as Neytiri walks forward, "What is wrong?" she asks, wiping a stray tear from your face.

"It's Tsu'tey-" she cuts you off with a hiss of annoyance.

"Tsu'tey," she mutters under her breath as she leaves in search of Mo'at.

Jake's eyebrows furrow in confusion when Mo'at joins you with Neytiri. And, you gasp Tsu'tey stands behind them his arms crossed his expression unreadable.

"Tsu'tey, do you not have something to say?" Mo'at says as he steps forward, head down.

"You are ready," he whispers, his voice barely audible before he turns and leaves.

"I do not wish to apologize for Tsu'tey's behavior, and actions, but to explain," Mo'at says taking a seat on a log and setting her basket down."

"Tsu'tey had let his hatred of the sky people cloud his judgment today, which led to his harsh words," she pauses as she grabs an herb out of her basket, "but even he cannot deny that you are ready."

Watching as she tosses it back into the basket, you feel a chill run down your spine.

You could feel your stomach churn as you watched Jake tackle an Ikran, struggling with it as it tried to claw its way away from him. But the second he made Tsaheylu, it was done, and he took off, flying into the mountains.

Following the other's lead, you attempted to carefully approach the Ikran before Tsu'tey grabbed your arm. Feeling annoyed at the thought of another lecture from him you reached to slap his hand away when he speaks, "Before you go, know that it will try to kill you."

You look at him, anger now rising in you as you wrench free of his grasp, "I know, Neytiri told me."

Ignoring his stare you approached the Ikran's, noticing the two other Na'vi must have already been chosen you leap at one of the Ikran. Tackling it to the ground, you wrap your legs around its neck as you tie its mouth shut.

"Now, make Tsaheylu," Tsu'tey calls out, as he walks closer to the edge of the cliff.

"I'm trying!" you scream as the Ikran tries to break free from your grasp.

Reaching for your neural link, you finally make Tsaheylu, and sigh in relief before mounting the Ikran.

"Now, you must fly! The first flight seals the bond," Tsu'tey shouts as he mounts his own Ikran.

Glancing nervously at the edge of the cliff, you take off.

As the wind whips through your hair you can't help but smile as you fly between the floating mountains. Although soon enough, your thoughts drift to Tsu'tey. You wonder why he would give you advice, especially since the last time you spoke, he hadn't been the nicest.

You were debating on thanking him when a gust of wind nearly knocked you off your Ikran. Steadying yourself you curse when you see Tsu'tey flying next to you, smirking.

"How about a race, alien?" he says, his voice oddly cheerful as he takes off leaving you in the dust.

"Let's go!" you shout as your Ikran speeds up and passes Tsu'tey.

Waving to him you start to fly toward the trees when his expression changes from one of smugness to fear as a loud screech comes from behind you.

Looking back you mutter, "Oh shit," before following Tsu'tey into the trees, diving around so that the creature behind you doesn't catch the tail of your Ikran.

"This way!" Tsu'tey calls out before you duck and follow him.

After moving through the tightly connected trees the creature screeches in annoyance and flies away. Dismounting you look over at Tsu'tey, eyes wide with concern, "What was that?"

He laughs before dismounting and shakes his head, "You do not know the toruk?"

Tilting your head in confusion, you frown, "No, it's like the Ikran, right?"

Shaking his head again his hand reaches toward you. Your eyes flutter shut at the act, a small blush creeping up your cheeks as he takes a leaf out of your hair and tosses it to the side.

Opening your eyes, you notice how close you are, your noses nearly touch as his hand lingers on your face.

Feeling your heart race and your face turn even redder, you try to back away slightly, but his hand remains on your cheek. "Tsu'tey, what are you doing?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

He looks at you with a serious expression, "I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past. I was wrong, and I hope you can forgive me."

Scoffing you look up at him, "I wasn't expecting that-"

But your words are silenced as his lips meet yours, caught off guard by the sudden action. Your eyes widen in surprise before you melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he deepens it.

When you finally pull away, both of you panting, he looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, "I hope that makes up for it."

You nod, still slightly dazed from the kiss, "Yeah, I think it does."

As you both mount your Ikran again, he takes your hand in his, "Come, let us fly back."

You smile, but feel conflicted as to what these feelings you've developed for Tsu'tey mean.

sorry this was so short! i might write a part 2 to this, comment if you'd be interested?

skxawng [sk’awŋ] n. moron, idiot

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

The Bomb

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: Jake hasn’t healed even months after his ex-girlfriend Y/N said ‘I do’ to another man.

For a bit of context while I try and write what came before: Y/N is a super successful singer-songwriter although it’s not super relevant in this chapter. She has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet, for several years. She had a loving yet terribly tumultuous relationship with Jake that didn't end very well (you’ll see), although they eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. But Jake was lightyears away from being ready to see her married to another man.

Warning: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering because it’s kind of really sad and angsty.

Previous Track: Happier than Ever

Chapter soundtrack : The Bomb – Florence + the Machine

"But if I was free to love you, You wouldn't want me, would you? Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on, Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong. I've blown apart my life for you, And bodies hit the floor for you, Break me, shake me, devastate mе Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong I don't love you, I just love the bomb."

Alright let’s get into this.

The Annual Benefit of the Barcelona Art Institute. The space was beautiful and the exhibition simply exquisite as Y/N wandered gracefully around the sumptuous halls of the venue, occasionally making small talks with fellow art enthusiasts, all the while enjoying a nice glass of champagne. She was deep in conversation with one of the curators about purchasing one of the paintings when she suddenly felt her phone vibrating in her purse.

‘Incoming call from Daniel’

Weird, she thought, it was late at night, and the band and her had already planned to have lunch all together the following day. They had, by some happy coincidence, found themselves in Barcelona at the same time and figured it would be a great opportunity to meet up, since they rarely got to anymore. The members of Greta Van Fleet were there for a concert and some PR business, while Y/N had flown out to attend a couple of events during the peak of social season. She softly excused herself and picked up right away.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, YN,” she heard Danny’s voice, “Listen, I’m so, so sorry, I know that you’re at this Gala thing but, we kind of- have a situation over here…”

“You sound worried, is everyone okay?” YN asked, heading towards a quiet corner.

“Actually… no.” Danny said, “It’s Jake," YN's heart stopped, "he’s-he’s been acting weird all day and he just- kind of, um, freaked out a couple hours ago and walked out before the concert was even over.”

“Jesus, is he alright?” YN asked, a concerned look creeping on her face, “Is somebody with him?”

“Yeah, not really, he’s cooped up in his hotel room right now,” Danny replies, hesitation in his voice, “The staff is losing it, but he won’t let anybody in. He- he did, uh," he paused, "he mentioned you. Do you think- you could- come over? We wouldn’t normally ask but-”

“No, it’s okay, of course. Um, just- send me the address, I- I’ll be right there,” she hung up, racing out of the building, stilettos in hand, and immediately hailing a cab.

_______________

She rushed out of the elevator only to see the boys sitting at the end of the hallway, a defeated look on their faces.

“Y/N, thank god you’re there” Sam sighed in relief, jumping on his feet to greet her.

“Is he in there?” she asked urgently, eyes on the closed door.

“Yeah,” Danny replied, “he ended up opening the door, let Josh in, but- I don’t think he said much.”

Y/N walked past him and towards the hotel room. She knocked softly on the door before cracking it open, only to hear Jake’s gravelly voice shouting, “For crying out! I told you, I didn’t-”

 “It’s me,” she interrupted gently, venturing into the room. It was dark, but she still managed to catch a glimpse of what she assumed to be the outcome of her ex-boyfriend’s mood. Chair fallen over, open minibar and clothes scattered all over the floor of the luxurious suite.

Jake was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees and back facing her, but she could still see his shoulders moving up and down as tiny sobs seemingly racked through his body. Josh was on his knees in front of him, he looked up at YN as soon as she entered. Y/N gave him a weak nod as to indicate that he could leave. He got up and silently walked out of the room, making sure to squeeze her arm on the way out.

She let out a long sigh as she heard the door close behind her. What now? She decided to approach him slowly, the sound of her high heels against the waxed floor letting the boy know of her movements.

“Hey Jakey,” Y/N murmured, looking down at his shivering figure. But the boy kept his eyes on the floor, so she got down on her knees in front of him, “Danny called me… said you had a bit of a- a problem earlier.” She waited for him to speak for a few seconds but was only met with silence, so she carried on, “you know you can tell me any-”

“I, uh,” he interrupted with a hoarse voice, his puffy eyes finally looking up, only to see her all dressed up in her beautiful gown. “Fuck,” he sighed, “I’m sorr- you- you had your charity thing, damnit! I’m such a fuckup,” he started pulling on his hair, rocking back and forth slightly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t- care about that,” she squirmed closer to him and delicately pulled his hands away from his face. Let’s just say she’d seen him looking better. “I care about you. Now tell me, what happened? The boys are worried out of their mind-”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I-I really thought I’d be okay, I thought I could handle it, but- but then-” he paused, “And- and I just-” he looked back down in embarrassment, only for his eyes to catch the delicate gold band that sat in all its glory on her finger. A sour smirk appeared on his face, “Jesus, I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not, we all have bad days… You’re probably tired. I remember touring was always hard on you guys’ nerves,” Y/N said with a strained smile, her hand brushing the boy’s long hair away from his face, desperately trying to avoid the clear possibility that she was the one responsible for his current state. “Come on, let’s get you into bed,” she helped him up and took a few steps backwards to pick up some of the mess from the floor but before she could lean forward, Jake had her engulfed in a tight hug, taking her by surprise.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Whiskey. “For being here, I mean.”

“I’ll always be here,” she replied with a faint smile, hugging him back, “you know that, right?”

He rested his head on top of hers and inhaled deeply, taking in the citrusy scent of her hair, before burying his face in the crook of her neck. Y/N tensed up as she felt his nose travelling across her skin, his lips pressing soft kisses along the surface of her collarbone.

“Jake,” she whispered, trying to reason with the boy, “wait-”

“Please-” he moaned sadly, his voice breaking as he held onto her for dear life, “Just- just this one time, please- I just- I really need you right now.”

“Jake, you know I can’t,” she sighed, delicately slipping from his embrace, “I’m marr-”

“Don’t-” he hissed, stomping away from her to take a seat at the end of the bed, “Please- just," he gulped, "don’t say it.” She brushed her fingertips against the skin of her neck in an attempt to replace the warmth that had disappeared along with his lips.

The boy’s chest was heaving as he stared at her gorgeous figure, his gaze travelling across every exposed inch of her skin. The skin that was once his to touch. As their eyes finally met, Y/N felt in her core that something very wrong was about to happen.

He had that look in his eyes. The same look he’d had the very first time they’d- been together. Like she was the sun. Jake suddenly got up and walked up to where she stood. He grabbed her by the waist and planted a firm kiss on her lips. They were soft, just like they always were. Heaven, he thought. But that certainly didn’t last long.

She shoved him away with a resentful look in her eyes. “You’re drunk,” she said firmly.

“I’m not,” he retorted, “I mean, I’m more sober than I’ve been these past eight months.”

Eight months, she thought, Jesus, this had been going on since the ceremony. But her thoughts were interrupted as Jake walked back towards her and vigorously pushed his lips back against hers.

“Oh, cut it out, will you!” she yelled, pushing him away once more, this time with more strength, making his drunken frame stumble back.

Jake stood there, frozen for a second, while she stared down at the floor, remorse invading her every bone. She wasn’t only feeling guilty about the fact that she’d let herself be in that situation in the first place, but also that deep down, she still felt there was no place on earth she’d rather be.

He took a step forward hesitantly and placed a hand against her cheek, his calloused index finger travelling down to meet her chin, gently lifting her head and forcing her to look him in the eyes.

She placed a trembling hand against his chest, ready to reject him once more.  Her tiny fist was clenching the fabric of his shirt as she took in a shaky breath, mentally begging for the willpower to turn around and walk out the door. But he had the look. And she felt her heart breaking as she was met with his tired eyes. This was all her doing.

In a leap of faith, he gently lowered his head and let his lips brush against her cheek, before going on a painfully slow journey towards her lips. Now, this wasn’t like the two previous kisses. This one was tender. Desperate.

Unable but to close her eyes at the contact, YN felt her resistance slip away and swiftly wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, as he eagerly unzipped the back of her dress.

By the prick of my thumb, something wicked this way comes.

Next Track : Prayer Factory

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! This is going to be part of a long series and this is not even the beginning of the story, it just happened to be the first chapter I managed to actually finish, but I’ll make sure that it’s all easy to understand as I gradually post the rest. Please interact, people, always happy to get some reactions and feedback!!

[juniperwoodwell]

Hello. Steven Grant x gn reader. Prompt is "Call me that one more time, see what happens.". It's fluff. Like Steven calling reader something to get a reaction(some stupid nickname or something similar), playfully. And reader basically just gets Steven on the floor and idk, starts tickling him, and kissing him, not letting him get away.

Hello! I loved this request and I did my best with it, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

•Ducky•

•••••••••

Word count:736

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN! Reader

Warning(s): Fluff

Prompt is: "Call me that one more time. see what happens."

•Prompt list

a/n: I apologize for how short this is and if it's terrible, I haven't done a GN fic in awhile. Also, not edited.

"Okay, steven, I'm heading out to the shop! I'll be back Soon!" Y/n said to steven, who had been sitting at the table with his computer out, "Oh! Could you get some food for Gus on your way back?" Steven said as he stands up from the table and walked over to Y/n. "Oh yeah, Sure, Hun," Y/n replied with a smile; Steven leaned in and kissed Y/n's cheek. "Love you, ducky, Be safe." Steven smiled playfully, "Ducky?" Y/n asked curiously. "Yeah, Thought I'd try a new nickname for you." Steven shruged, a soft blush on his cheeks, and Y/n smiled. Biting their lip. "Okie dokie then, I'll be back soon with food for Gus. Is there anything else I need to get?" Steven looked around the room, the back at Y/n. "Nah, I think we're all good, Ducky" Y/n can't help the small laugh that slipped from their lips. "Sounds good." they said, kissing Steven's cheek and then leaving the apartment, a skip in their step.

They thought the new nickname was cute but a bit silly, so Y/n devised a plan to get steven back. An hour went by before Y/n got home with everything. They knocked on the door and was greeted by a wet-haired steven "Oh- hun, did you just get out of the shower?" They asked, "Yup, here, let me help you with those," Steven took some of the bags from Y/n's arms, carried them into the apartment, placing them on the counter. "How was your shower?" Y/n asked as they put their bags next to his, and they started unpacking everything. "It was pleasant, how was shopping? Did you find any treasures, ducky?" There it was again, that nickname. Y/n smiled at steven. "It was pretty boring, But I did find some lights we can string on the ceiling"   "Oh, that should be fun," steven says, anxious in his tone "Don't worry, I'll put them up." Steven scoffs, "You will not! I can't have you getting hurt. " Y/n laughed at steven's sudden outburst as they put away the milk. "Okay, okay, we'll put them up together then." They bargained.

After putting all the groceries away, they decided to take a break and read together on the couch. "Y'know, Ducky, I really appreciate our time together," Steven said, looking down at Y/n, who was curled into his side reading their book; they look up with a smile and sat up. "So do I," they said, kissing his cheek. Y/n straddled Steven's lap, which causes steven to blush; his hands naturally take their places on their hips. Y/n wrapped their arms around his neck loosely. "So. Why Ducky?" Y/n asked sweetly, tilting their head to the side curiously. "It just seems to fit. You're sweet and cute like a rubber ducky," He admitted, "Is that so" Y/n smirked, their hands slowly drifting from stevens shoulders down to his sides, their fingers slipping under his shirt; Steven kept his eyes trained on theirs; his breath speeding up. Y/n leaned in closer, kissing stevens cheek then down his jaw and neck; Steven gripped Y/n's sides but not hard enough to leave bruises. "Please, Ducky." He pleaded breathlessly, "Call me that one more time. See what happens" Y/n's voice was soft and low, and their smirk grew into a mischievous smile; Steven didn't even have enough time to properly react before he was laughing hysterically; Y/n was tickling his sides, laughing along with him. Y/n didn't stop until he was begging. "Please, Please! I can't" Their laughter echoed off the walls; when Y/n believed Steven had had enough, they stopped and sat back against his thighs.

Steven leaned his head against the back of the couch; his breathing was heavy, and he had a smile on his lips that mirrored Y/n's. They reached forward to brush the messy curls from his face "you're so handsome when you smile," Y/n said softly. Steven lifts his head, his smile growing wider, "Does this mean no to ducky then?" he asked, his breathing finally leveling to normal "it's cute once in a while, But I like it more when you call me 'Love'." Y/n admitted, their hands resting against his shoulders; Steven's hands found their way back to Y/'n hips. "Okay, Love," Steven leaned forward and kissed Y/n. "I think it's about time we get supper started, don't ya think, Love?" Y/n laughed softly. "Yes, I think so. Ducky."

[imagobin]

Is it possible to do one of Dragon King being protective of S/O and his child? Kaiju Edition?

Apologies for this taking so long! I basically write this every time I get to a request uuuugh I'm terrible lol but I genuinely enjoy writing these çwç I might've done too much research for this one shot, but it was so fun to write once I knew what I wanted to do! Hope you enjoy!

Genre: Action 💥 Word count: 3.1k

My Family

Ever since Dragon King had lost to Monkey King and had been stuck as a Kaiju, he never thought he’d be able to have any semblance of a family, and yet here he was now, with the beautiful (y/n) as his spouse and an adorable child they’d adopted and that he loved as his own.

He’d do anything for them, even going against Immortals if it came to it.

What he wasn’t aware of, was that in the depths of the sea, something was stirring, slowly breaking free from his prison: Tuolong, the ninth son of the Jing River’s Dragon, imprisoned there for his defiance, had awakened, and was looking for any way to prove how much of a threat he could be, especially to his sea-dwelling uncles, one of which was Ao Guang himself.

Tuolong wasn’t stupid however, he knew he needed a plan of action first, and also more power. Instead of attacking right away he scoured the seas, looking for artifacts that could’ve aided him in his conquest, among which his old bronze club, the weapon that had accompanied him in his younger years, and that he could finally hold in his grasp once more.

Tuolong would then disguise himself as a vagabond, and eavesdrop on conversations to learn what had been going on during the years of total isolation in his prison.

Apparently, his second uncle, Dragon King, had lost a battle against Sun Wukong, the Monkey King.

Ao Guang had been forced to retreat, and right now it seemed like he was attempting to rebuild his kingdom along with his partner and child. That sounded like the perfect opportunity to establish himself as the new ruler of the Eastern Sea! Surely his subjects wouldn’t mind the change after their old king had been defeated by a monkey.

“And I have just the perfect plan on how to do it… just you wait, uncle…”

DRIINNGG!!

The alarm clock in the royal bedroom rang, signaling the beginning of a new day. 

(Y/n) slowly opened their eyes, stretching their body and in turn waking up their husband.

Ever since Ao Guang had gotten stuck as a Kaiju, (y/n) had picked up the habit of sleeping in his neck fur, which was undoubtedly the comfiest and most soothing place to be at all times, especially since Ao Guang hadn’t stopped taking extremely good care of himself despite his size.

“Hmm… good morning, my precious…” the Dragon King whispered softly, caressing (y/n)’s head with one finger, waiting for his morning kiss.

(Y/n) giggled softly, leaning a bit into his surprisingly light touch, and then swimming up to his nose, giving him a couple nuzzles, before kissing it. “Good morning, my love… slept well?”

“With you by my side? Always.” The King purred, his slit pupils dilating with delight at the kiss.

He loved these little moments with (y/n), where they could both be calm and cuddly with each other, though predictably, it’d be soon cut short by a third presence in the room.

He felt two tiny hands tugging on his massive tail, and soon a small voice spoke. “Come onnnn dad! Get up!” It was his beloved child. Today was a special day; the day where (child/n) and (y/n) usually went out to explore together, so of course they were super excited and impatient to get their day started.

Ao Guang chuckled softly and sat up with a little grunt. “Alright, my little sea monkey… it should almost be time for breakfast anyway.” He replied, watching as (y/n) swam down to pick up their kid and greet them with a small nuzzle as well. He sighed, unable to hold back a smile; they were such a loving parent. 

After breakfast, (y/n) and their child got dressed up and ready to leave, accompanied by a guard, but as usual, Dragon King was worried about them. (Y/n) used to be a commoner, they weren’t used to the attention royals got quite yet; he felt like sometimes they didn’t realize that.

“Did you remember to take the enchanted water with you, honey?” The King asked, bumbling nervously, standing just before the doorway.

(Y/n) chuckled, taking a small bottle out of their robes. “I always keep it with me, you worrywart… nothing’s going to happen, we’ll be back in two hours like always! Right, sweetie?”

“Yeah! Right on the dot!” The little sea toddler replied, holding (y/n)’s hand.

Ao Guang sighed, trying to chase his worries away. Was he really being a worrywart? He just didn’t want his family to get in trouble-

“Okay, okay… but don’t you dare be late!” He said, trying to sound authoritative… and failing. He had no problem being harsh with his guards, but when it came to his family he always went extremely soft.

(Y/n) smiled and swam up to kiss him, “I promise we won’t,” they said with a smile, before swimming out of the castle with the guard and their child, who waved at their dad with a wide grin on their face.

The Dragon King waved back, before going back to his study to deal with his kingly duties, which had nearly doubled in amount after he’d begun rebuilding his kingdom.

Things would soon take a turn for the worst however, as Tuolong had been lying in wait. He’d seen Ao Guang’s spouse and their child leave the castle, and the guard accompanying them didn’t look particularly strong either. It was the perfect opportunity, even easier than stealing candy from a baby!

He struck before the trio could even reach their destination, faster than a barracuda, he snuck behind (y/n), hitting them with his bronze club and rendering them unconscious.

It all happened so suddenly, one moment (child/n) was holding their parent’s hand, and the next they were both constricted by a snake-like tail, (y/n)’s body going limp from the blow to their head.

The guard realized what was going on a moment too late, turning around as he heard the kid’s cries, pointing his lance towards the enemy; but as soon as he saw how large and menacing Tuolong was, he felt his webbed hands tremble, barely able to hold onto his flimsy lance.

Tuolong grinned and laughed wickedly, “is this the best guard my uncle could hire?! Taking over is going to be even more of a joke!” He bellowed, his voice loud enough to cover up (child/n)’s cries as they writhed and tried to shake their parent’s body awake.

The River Dragon grabbed the guard’s lance, dragging him closer to his snout. “Here’s what you’re gonna do now… you’ll swim back to your sorry excuse of a king… and tell him that if he wants to see his family again- he’d better hand the Eastern Sea to me!” He hissed, throwing the guard to the side as soon as he vigorously started nodding his head.

Once that was over, he swam back to his retreat. Everything was going accordingly, he would not fail.

“You let him do WHAT?!”

“P-p-p-please have mercy, your majesty!!” The guard begged, every bone in his fishy body shaking. “W-we were ambushed! And he overpowered us and-”

The Dragon King hissed furiously “One more excuse for this failure, AND YOU’LL BE THE FIRST COURSE FOR MY NEXT FEAST!!!”

The guard squealed in terror, “I-I beg you, a-a-anything but that!! I-I’ll send out a search team right away!”

“You’ve already done ENOUGH! If you incompetent lot manage to get spotted by Tuolong, he might hurt (y/n) and (child/n), I’ll handle this…” The King replied, clenching his fists. 

Damn it all, why was this happening? Why did everything have to go wrong whenever he felt happy?

He swam back to his study, without paying attention to whatever his large tail may have been knocking over. He really had to think this through, even if in his heart the answer was clear already…

Ao Guang could never put his kingdom above his family. (Y/n) was the reason he’d found the confidence to come back as king in the first place, and their child brightened his days like nothing else. He could live without his position as king, but he couldn’t give up the people he loved the most.

“If only I knew where they were being kept…”

(Y/n) regained consciousness, sitting up with a light grunt; they looked down, noticing their child sleeping right against them. “W-where are we? (Child/n)? Are you okay?” They whispered softly, caressing their head, waking them up from their light slumber.

“M-mom/Dad…?” (Child/n) mumbled. They looked up at their parent, their eyes quickly filling up with tears as they buried their face into (y/n)’s chest and they started crying. “I-it was so scary!! A-an evil dragon hit you a-and then– then he took us away, and you were sleeping and I was scared!!” They managed to say between sobs, their little arms wrapping around (y/n) for safety.

(Y/n) widened their eyes, immediately picking up their child and holding them tight, “oh, no no… don’t cry, it’s going to be okay… I’m okay now, I’m awake… don’t be scared, I’m sure dad will find us…” They whispered, although they themselves had no idea where this place was. It looked like a cave of some sort, right on the seashore, unfortunately, thick iron bars were keeping them from reaching the water. 

Where was their kidnapper? What was he planning to do with them?

“I want dad…” (Child/n) sniffled, hugging (y/n) even tighter.

“I know sweetie, I know… he’ll be here soon, I’m sure.” (Y/n) muttered, cradling their child in their arms, when suddenly a menacing laughter echoed as Tuolong emerged from the water. 

“Oh, don’t worry… he will be… once he hands over his kingdom, you three can be a little happy family again!” Tuolong grinned.

(Y/n) widened their eyes. “Hand over his kingdom? He’ll never do that! You’re a fool if you think that’s the case!” They shouted, while their child hid behind their robes for protection.

“We’ll see about that… but if I were you, I’d be hoping he does hand over it all, otherwise… you’ll be paying the consequences.” The river dragon chuckled, grabbing (y/n)’s face roughly through the bars, before throwing them back and disappearing into the water again.

(Y/n) groaned, holding their face. “Curse you…” They muttered under their breath, before turning back to (child/n), who was shivering in fear.

They picked them up again.

“We’ll be okay… That dragon’s only advantage is that dad doesn’t know where we are… but if we can find a way to alert him, then everything will be okay!”

“B-but how are we gonna do that?” Their child whimpered, hiding their face into (y/n)’s chest again.

(Y/n) thought about it, until the answer came to them. “The water… We’re right near the shore, we can call him!” They whispered with a grin, taking out the small bottle of enchanted water from their robes. Luckily it was still intact. “Just one drop will be enough.”

(Child/n) looked as their parent carefully stretched their arm out of the iron bars, just enough to have one drop of the bottle’s contents fall into the sea water, slowly taking the form of their dad. He didn’t seem to notice them at first; too distressed to even realize he was being called.

“Dad! Dad!!”

The Dragon King flinched, and looked up, widening his eyes as he saw his spouse and child.

“(Y/n)! (Child/n)!! Oh thank the gods you’re okay! That rotten Tuolong- I swear if he’s laid a single finger on either of you”

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t hurt us.” (Y/n) assured him.

Ao Guang sighed in relief, “Do you know where he’s keeping you? If I get there in time- I might be able to rescue you… I’m sorry, this all happened because I wasn’t there with you…”

“Don’t blame yourself, my love. I lowered my guard despite your warnings about being careful… sadly I don’t know where we are exactly… I was unconscious for the whole trip.” (Y/n) explained, looking down.

“I-I know where we are!” (Child/n) suddenly chimed in, “I saw… a biiiiig rock full of pink and purple corals while he was bringing us here-”

“Pink and purple corals…? You’re on the shores near the coral reef?” Dragon King asked, very proud of his child for being able to keep their head straight in such a stressful situation.

The child nodded, “I-I think so, yes!” They replied, clinging to (y/n)’s robes, “Please come quick, dad… I’m really scared…”

“Don’t worry my little sea monkey, I’ll-”

Suddenly, a club crashed into the water, interrupting the connection.

“Hmmm I thought I heard another voice here…” Tuolong said menacingly, emerging from the water. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?! That you were being sly?! Even if he can find you, what’s that ‘pool noodle’ of my uncle going to do against me, huh?!” He hissed, opening the prison’s door and grabbing (y/n) by the robes. “Maybe he should find you… so he can watch you suffer…”

(Y/n) grunted as Tuolong’s webbed fingers wrapped around their throat.

“L-let my mom/dad go!!” (Child/n) shouted, charging at the river dragon, only to be grabbed by his tail. They squirmed and punched it with their tiny fists as Tuolong tightened his grip.

“N-no!! Please, s-stop!!” (Y/n) begged, their voice choked up with panic as they tried to breathe despite Tuolong’s fingers pressing down on their larynx. “D-don’t hurt them–”

The river dragon smirked, “oh, don’t worry… I’m just going to teach them a lesson…” he growled.

Then a raindrop fell on his nose, and another… and another.

“Rain?” He muttered, looking out to the sea just in time to see Ao Guang’s gigantic form emerge from the water, his eyes red with fury.

The Dragon King took one look at Tuolong and roared into his face, making him let out a high-pitched scream and let go of both (y/n) and their child.

“D-DAD!!” (Child/n) shouted, while (y/n) took them to the back of their cell, knowing a fight was going to break out soon.

“D-dad?!” Tuolong repeated, all his bravado seemingly melting away. That was Ao Guang? His uncle?! How had he made himself so big?! As far as he knew, only Immortals could do that-

“Tuolong…” Ao Guang spoke, his voice echoing loudly.

"H-heeeey uncle! Long time no see! Didn’t know you’d been working out in these last few years!”  The river dragon laughed nervously.

“I’m not in the mood for your jokes, Tuolong!!” The Dragon king shouted, slapping his nephew out of the cave with a single swat of a hand, knocking him back into the water.

Tuolong reemerged, holding his bronze club. Sure, his uncle was huge now, but he wasn’t going to lose, not after all he’d done. “Well, you should’ve thought about it before you and Ao Run locked me up in that prison for DECADES!!” he cried, striking back, jumping out of the water at extreme speeds and swinging his weapon.

Ao Guang caught it and flung him back. “You know EXACTLY why we had to do it, you were misusing your powers!” He replied, his anger growing as he watched his nephew bounce right back. The weather kept changing, thunder and lightning roaring in the sky above, loudly enough that even the Immortals were alerted, and began watching the fight from their realm.

“You did the same!! You’ve hurt more people than I did! And yet you were NEVER punished! Just because you’re a king! It’s not fair!!” Tuolong continued, attempting to land a hit again and succeeding this time around, the power of his bronze club managing to knock even Ao Guang a few feet back.

“Ngh! I WAS punished for it! But I learned my lesson! I’ve left those ways in the PAST!” Ao Guang argued back, finally managing to get a hold of Tuolong, his fist tightening around him as he writhed. “And it’s all thanks to my family. So if you ever… EVER aim for them again- I WON’T hesitate to kill you!”

“I-I won’t, I won’t!! I promise!” Tuolong pleaded, his spirit deflating again.

“Good… I’d better never see you again… UNDERSTOOD?!” Ao Guang bared his teeth, feeling a presence up above. His eyes shifted for a moment, and he noticed a crack in the clouds… he knew what that meant.

“Yes, YES I GOT IT!!” Tuolong whimpered, feeling his uncle’s arm slowly begin to rotate. “W-wait, what are you doing?!”

“I’m sending you to a place where you DEFINITELY won’t bother us anymore!” He yelled, throwing Tuolong up into the sky, hard enough to hit one of the inner walls of the Jade Emperor’s palace.

The Immortal yelped as soon as he saw the river dragon being flung into his room, getting stuck onto the wall like a piece of modern art.

“Aw come on! I just had that wall painted!” The Jade Emperor huffed.

“Oops!” Ao Guang chuckled, feeling much calmer now, “Sorry, sir!”

The Jade Emperor narrowed his eyes, but soon sighed, “you’ve done this to protect your family, so I’ll forgive you this time…” He replied, a slight smile spreading across his face. The Dragon King had truly made some good progress ever since Sun Wukong beat him. “I’ll be taking care of Tuolong’s situation myself, but don’t make throwing people who are giving you trouble into my palace a habit!” The emperor added, feigning offense, before closing up the clouds again.

Ao Guang smiled, and he let the water submerge him again as the skies cleared up and the sea’s waves returned to normal. He looked inside the cave and was immediately greeted by both (y/n) and his child running at him and hugging his face.

“Dad!! You won!!”

“I’m so happy you’re here, my love…”

All that love had the big Kaiju’s cheeks blushing a deep purple. “I-I told you I’d find you…” He smiled, picking up (y/n) and (child/n), making his way back into the sea.

“When our connection suddenly fell, I got so worried I immediately started swimming- guess… being this big lets you cover certain distances much faster, huh?” The king tried joking a bit, to lighten the mood.

“I’m so happy you’re both safe… I’ll never let anything this awful happen to you two ever again, I swear on my life.” He whispered, lightly hugging them and letting them rest against his neck fur. “Let’s go home now… I think we’ve had enough adventures for one day.”

The End

[id-amia]

Ok so I fell in love with your Mizuki bubble bath headcanons so could I request baking with them? As fluffy as you want to make it, and you can choose whether it's headcanons or a one shot! Don't worry about rushing this, I'd much rather it take a while and be high quality (and for you not to be stressed) than for it to be rushed and sub-par :))))

Also! Sorry that this ask is getting long but I just wanted to say I'm in love with the way you write, so thank you for publishing your work!

Baked Sweets, Sugary Love

“Somehow, my emotions kept making a fuss.”

Mizuki x reader baking together

characters: Akiyama Mizuki

note: thanks for requesting!! im actually terrible at baking but i love baked goods! it ended up way too long and is kinda late but i hope it’s alright! thank you for appreciating my writing omg aaahh i really love writing like this so i hope you can keep supporting me!!

Butter... sugar... eggs... flour... ah, was Mizuki supposed to bring the icing ingredients?

You put all the ingredients you have on the counter and checked your Nightcord chat logs.

Amia: That’s the recipe and the list of ingredients Amia: Since it’s at your house you can prepare the ingredients!! Amia: We can divide the price after [You]: Sure thing Amia: Nice :D Amia: Oh actually I can bring the icing stuff and the cutters Amia: I have a few ideas in mind hehe~

“What are they planning, I wonder?”

~~~(this break is brought to you by miku)~~~

Ding dong!

“I’ll get it!”

You open the door to be greeted by a long-awaited cheerful smile.

“Yahoo~” Mizuki beams at you.

You smile back, “You’re awfully cheery today.”

“Ahaha, I mean I’ve been preparing a whole lot for today, you know!” Mizuki leaves their shoes at the entrance and you lead them to the kitchen.

“Should we get started? Ah, but you came a long way so you can rest first. We can get started whenever.” You tell them.

Mizuki shakes their head, “Thanks, but I’m good! I want to make them right away so we can eat them soon!”

“Hehe, sure then.”

You show them to the kitchen and bring out the things you need.

You look around, “Right, we need aprons.”

“No need, no need!” Mizuki brings out 2 cute pink aprons with little frills and ribbons and hands you one.

“These are so cute! Did you make them?” You put it on and adjust it.

“Ahaha, I sure did! Thanks! I worked really hard on them so I’m really really glad you liked them.” They smile.

After a few more compliments and pictures with the aprons you finally get to work.

“Do you think we need a bigger bowl?” you ask.

Mizuki checks the ingredients, “I guess it depends on how many we’re making. I think 20 or so would be enough? So... yeah, I think this big bowl is okay.”

They take out the flour and pour it in. “Is this enough? It says 2 and a fourth cups.”

“Maybe we should have measured first before pouring...” You giggle a little.

“Yeah, probably.” Mizuki chuckles guiltily. They measure the baking powder and salt and pour them as well.

“You wanna mix? I’ll measure the other ingredients while you do!” Mizuki asks. You nod and start whisking the bowl.

As you whisk your bowl you see Mizuki measuring and putting in ingredients into bowls. Sometimes you hear them go “Ah, it’s too much!” or “Whoops, it spilled a little!” which made you smile without realizing.

“So that’s it I think- Ah! Hey, it’s spilling out everywhere!” Mizuki looks to you and runs over.

You look down and realize that you’ve been mixing to hard and it flew everywhere without noticing.

“Ah, sorry. I guess I got distracted,” you apologize as they dust off the flour on your apron.

“Haha, what are you getting distracted for?” Mizuki cleans up the table for you and walks up to grab the hand mixer.

You blush a little as you realize how much you’ve been staring at Mizuki. “It’s nothing...”

Mizuki smirks but decides not to tease you.

They get a bowl with butter and sugar in it, “The next step is to cream the butter by mixing butter and sugar.”

“So we mix with the hand mixer?”

“Yeah, I think so! Do you know how to use it?”

“No...”

“Me neither! Let’s just try whatever!”

They turn on the mixer and let out a little yelp.

“It’s going everywhere!” you yell.

Mizuki tries to steady the mixer in the bowl.

“Ahaha! There’s butter on your face!” Mizuki laughs as you wipe your face begrudgingly.

“Alright, alright. The butter is creamed so let’s move on!” You give a sarcastic smile which Mizuki laughs at.

“Haha, so next is... vanilla and egg! We need to mix them with the butter.” Mizuki starts up the mixer again.

“And I shall be staying away,” You joke as you step back.

After a messy battle with the ingredients, Mizuki grins and turns off the mixer.

“And done! Now let’s put in the stuff in the other bowl.”

You go to and pour the contents of the other bowl and Mizuki turns on the mixer again.

“It’s slower now so it should be fine?” Mizuki smiles and hums.

Once the dough is mixed well, Mizuki brings out a rolling pin and a tray with parchment paper.

“Alright! So we need to flatten the dough now,”  Mizuki hands you the pin. “Do you wanna try?”

“Sure thing,” you take the dough out of the bowl and start rolling the pin back and forth. Once it’s evenly flattened, you both put it in the freezer to chill.

“I’ll go ahead and preheat the oven,” you say as Mizuki nods.

You have a few light conversations while waiting. When the oven is finished preheating, you head over and bring in the tray. Mizuki brings out the cutters they brought.

“Here we are! I picked out a lot of cute ones!” Mizuki smiles.

“These are so cute!” You pick out some to look at.

“Uh huh! These heart ones are really cute, but this little cat one is cute too! I also bought this one that looks like Miku! It’s adorable isn’t it?” Mizuki gushes about each cutter happily.

“Maybe we should try all of them? They’re all too cute! I can’t really decide which to use,” you suggest.

Mizuki smiles, “Alright then! Let’s use them all.”

You both take turns cutting the dough and soon you have more than 20 cookies.

“Let’s put them in! I can’t wait to eat them!” Mizuki get’s the tray excitedly.

“Ah, careful. Here, wear these gloves,” you hand your old baking gloves to them and they put the cookies into the oven.

“It takes around 12 minutes, so it won’t be that long,” Mizuki turns to their bag. “In the meantime...”

Mizuki takes out a bunch of piping bags and nozzle tips from their bag. “Tadah! These are all the stuff I bought for the icing! This one is a plain circular one, but this one can make a star shape! And there’s this one which apparently can make rose petals, and this one can make leaves!” They say as they lay them out.

You smile as you look at some of the nozzle tips. “Let’s also begin making the icing then!”

You both suggest and bicker about the colors of icing to make and end up making a whole pastel-like rainbow collection of them. Along the way you take out and cool the baked cookies as well.

“Ooh! We’re almost done, I’m so excited!” Mizuki jumps around.

You start putting in all the icing in bags and pick out some nozzles.

Once the cookies are chilled, you cut small holes in the bags and insert the nozzles.

Mizuki takes a Miku cookie and looks at the icing bags, “Do you think we should go with green or blue for Miku?”

“Of course blue! It’s Miku’s signature color after all,” you reply.

“Eh?” They exclaim. “But isn’t green also really good on her?”

“I guess, it is based on personal interpretation after all.”

Mizuki smiles, “Let’s just use both! We have 6 Mikus, so we can have 3 green ones and 3 blue ones!”

You laugh a little as you begin icing the cookies. Mizuki tried making a rose with the petal nozzle, but it kept melting. You made little stars on a heart and carefully drew whiskers and a face on a cat one.

After they’re all done, you put them in the fridge one last time.

“Let’s leave some for our friends! I think Kanade and Mafuyu would love the Miku ones. Ena would like this cat one!” Mizuki suggests. You nod and smile sweetly.

“Ah, this heart cookie is reserved though! It’s for someone very special!” Mizuki points at a pink and white heart cookie with little flowers.

You giggle, “You’re gonna say it’s me and be all cheesy aren’t you?”

Mizuki laughs, “Ehh, you’re ruining the moment! It’s not cheesy it’s romantic!”

You both laugh together until the cookies are done cooling.

They tasted amazing. Eating food made together had been so fun.

Maybe you’re the cheesy one.

[abimess]

Greetings! Hope you’re staying healthy, achieving things you want to do, and aren’t pushing yourself overboard with school, work, or anything else that goes on. I’ve been enjoying your works. I take interest in your style of writing. Keep it up! :)

Anyway, I was hoping you could do a Wanda x Fem! reader where they’re dating, however, reader doesn’t know that they’re dating because she’s never had girl friends before. The way things start had been after sharing a small moment of intimacy (after they had a mission of whatever), and reader has always liked wanda but doesn’t think much of it. So, cue a day where reader decides to confess and when she wants to speak to wanda alone, wanda believes they’re breaking up and reader is like, “wait, we’ve been dating?”

Apologies if it’s an odd request and is confusing but I just think it’s be cute and if you could add some jealous Wanda because we all love a little angst. Have a good day! :)

Hi, anon! First, I gotta say, this was the sweetest thing I ever received here on tumblr so thank you. I think I’m staying healthy although I just ate a gigantic bucked of popcorn (only god can judge me). Things are great with college, thank you. I hope everything is great with you too.

Also, I’m really happy that you like my style of writing because I honestly just write the way I think and I’m glad you don’t think it’s just an awkward mess.

Don’t apologize, I loved this idea! In fact, I read a fic that reminded me a lot of your request. Accidentally in Love by @reminiscingtonight you should totally check it out, it’s amazing.

Anyway, I should shut up now.

Good reading, everyone! And sorry for any errors and typos.

The Oblivious Lover

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Confessing your feeling to your best friend turns out to be full of surprises. (I'm terrible with summaries sorry guys but give it a try tough the story is nice lol)

Word count: 1.365

Warnings: alcohol; fluff

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Masterlist | Library Blog (Read on: Wattpad | AO3)

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- I don’t know what to do, Sharon! – You groan, burying your face on the counter and the blonde laughs.

Being raised among five brothers, you never knew how to act around girls. What was a complete absurd considering you were one yourself. But since you were a little kid you never managed to talk to a girl or be friends with one. Which was totally fine, since you felt more comfortable around boys anyway.

But that changed completely the moment you met Wanda. She was so sweet, so gentle, so perfect. Most people would say you were a brute. But not with her. Oh, no, never with her. If you could, you would put Wanda Maximoff on a tiny jar and would carry her around, protecting her from everything and everyone.

You remember the first time you talked to her. So pathetic. You could barely say your name without stuttering. But she smiled at you all the time, her tender eyes locked on yours and you couldn’t help but feel safe. She always made you feel safe.

Your friendship with the witch started pretty well, and it only grew after the two of you started going on missions together. But everything changed completely a few weeks ago, when you finally realized you were in love with Wanda.

Panic. That was what you felt. Panic. You’ve never been in love before. You had no idea what to do or what to say. So, being the strong, confident woman you were, you started avoiding the witch in all the ways you could find.

So here you were, with your face on the bar counter at one of Tony’s parties and with Sharon laughing at your misery. You didn’t mean to tell Sharon. In fact, you didn’t have anyone you could talk to about it, so you would probably just keep it to yourself until you combust.

But you were too drunk to function properly so at the moment you saw Wanda entering the room you couldn’t keep to yourself. You poured your heart out and Sharon was the lucky one who got to hear you talk for thirty minutes about how Wanda’s eyes were too green to be true and how her hair smells like flowers and how her smile could light up the entire town and...

- Just tell her. – Sharon said and giggles when you groan again. - She clearly likes you too, you know?

- What?! – You ask lifting your head to face her. - Wanda would never like me. I mean, look at her. She’s like the sun and I’m like… the small flashlights they sell on those dollar stores.

- God, you have to stop drinking. – She’s laughing again and you nod knowing she’s probably right. – Look, she’s already looking at you.

You look to where Sharon is pointing to and you see Wanda. You smile at her but she doesn’t smile back. In fact, she has an indecipherable expression on her face before looking the other way.

- She hates me!

- Jesus Christ, (Y/n), just get out of here. – The blonde says pushing you but she’s laughing so you think that she’s probably not mad.

You finish your drink and when you get up you feel like you would probably need another drink, so you take Sharon’s as well.

You walk clumsily towards Wanda and every step you take makes you feel even more nervous. When you approach her, you say “hi” but you’re not thinking straight anymore and you wonder if you actually said it out loud. But Wanda turns to face you, so you assume you did. Closer now, you can see that she has a mixture of anger and hurt on her face as she looks at you.

- Can I talk to you? – You ask, your voice slow because of the alcohol.

- Oh, you want to talk to me? Funny, you looked so interest at talking with Carter all night. – She says, sarcasm dripping from her mouth as she speaks. You think that she may be jealous of you, but that’s probably just the booze messing with you.

- Yeah. I mean, no! I mean. – You start to get very clumsy and Wanda starts to get very irritated. You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts as you speak. -  Yes, I want to talk to you. It’s kinda important actually.

Wanda’s expression turns to concern as she nods. You lead her to the elevator and ask FRIDAY to take you to your floor. The two of you walk to your room in silence and when you enter, you close the door.

You turn to Wanda, who’s eyeing you attentively and you feel you whole body starts to tremble. How were you supposed to do that? She would never feel the same way, she’s your best friend! Maybe you should just fake a fainting. Yeah, you should probably do that.

- Are you breaking up with me? – Wanda’s words sounded almost like a whisper, but they were enough to wake you up from your mental breakdown.

- Are we dating? – You ask her with frowned brows and she looks at you with wide eyes, her eyebrows raised completely.

- Are we not dating?

- What?! – You ask, shock clear on your voice. You were completely lost on that conversation and you were pretty sure it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

- So what was that on our last mission together, like, a month ago? You said I was your favorite person and then we cuddled the whole night.

- Friends don’t do that? – You ask, taking a step back and suddenly feeling weird.  

- No, (Y/n), friends don’t do that! – Wanda say, her voice loud as she runs her fingers through her hair. You wouldn’t know how close friends treated each other because you were never close with anyone before, but now it made perfect sense why the idea of Wanda cuddling someone else hurt you so much.

You stand there looking at each other in silence. From all the scenarios you created on your brain about how this conversation would go, this was definitely not one of them. Wanda looks at the ground, spinning the rings on her fingers and giving you a weak laugh.

- Oh, God, I’m so embarrassed.

- Hey, don’t be. – You say softly, approaching her and taking her hands on yours. -  Actually, I asked you to come here because I wanted to tell you how I feel about you.

- And how do you feel about me? - She asks, looking up to face you, her eyes filled with expectation.

- I’m very much in love with you, Wanda Maximoff. – You say with a soft smile and she flushes intensely.

- Well, I’m very much in love with you too.

A happy smile shows up on your face when you hear her words and Wanda giggle softly. Not being able to spend another second away from her, you lean in, connecting your lips with hers. When Wanda kisses you back, you feel your whole body surrendering to her. You were hers, completely. And you couldn’t be happier that she was yours as well.

Her hands leave yours just to go up to your cheeks and you place yours gently on her waist. When air was needed, you moved your faces away the slightest and rested your foreheads together.

- Do you want to be my girlfriend? – Wanda asks in a whisper, separating her face from yours so she can look at you. Her smile has so much love in it that you can’t help but smile as well.

- You see, apparently I’m already in a relationship so… - You retorts with a playful smirk and Wanda rolls her eyes and then slaps you lightly on your shoulder. You giggle and wrap your arms around her waist so she can be closer to you. - Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend.

Wanda blushes and smiles even wider as she leans in to kiss you again. This was not how you imagined this night to end, but you were not complaining at all.

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And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

[wovenstarlight]

hello! perhaps this is very sudden and i apologise for that, but i stumbled upon ur ss-rank hyj au (the cached au) and i Really Like It!! if possible, i’d really like to hear more about how others would react!

also as a side note, you’re very good at writing!

WAHA THANK YOU!!!!! that's really nice to hear..... for you here's some Haeyeon's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, featuring a lot of personal headcanons about awakened people's auras because i'm a sucker for that trope and the fear aura thing is brought up like 1 time in canon and then dismissed and i Will Not Stand For That,

-

"…Maybe it was a ghost."

"Really. A ghost."

"What do you think it was, then?"

"I don't— Oh, I don't know. Um, an earthquake?"

"An earthquake. Really. With no actual earth-quaking?"

"Maybe it was a really weak earthquake. But you’ve heard the stories, right? Animals getting scared and running away right before—"

"Sure, but there’s no way this was an earthquake."

"There’s no way it was a ghost—"

"I am leaving," Simyeong says loudly, "to go meet the guild leader. I hope that by the time I return, the team and raid applications for the next month will have been appropriately assigned to the department."

The Lee twins make identical choking sounds. Minho recovers first, calling "Yes, sir!" in a terrible, strangled approximation of his usual brisk tone. Yoonji, meanwhile, doesn't even bother with a verbal response, giving Simyeong a seated half-bow. Her eyes are uneasy, and it isn't until Minho pinches her arm that she remembers to smile professionally at him.

Simyeong merely nods at them and leaves his office, no small amount of relief filling him at the quiet outside. His right hands are excellent at their jobs, but that comes with the unfortunate downside of constant chatter, especially when they're anxious.

His relief is short lived, though. The moment the door closes behind him, he's already frowning at the mute silence of the rest of his department. Oh, of course they get up and greet him as he leaves, but it's muted and unsteady. In the corridor outside, what few people he sees are talking exclusively in whispers. The soft hubbub of voices echoing down the halls from other rooms in the building is, for once in his long tenure, missing. Haeyeon is a large guild- a major one, if they get their way- and it's never entirely quiet in here. Not like this.

Simyeong is not an easily frightened man, but as he strides down the corridor just a touch more tense than usual, he can't say the eerie silence doesn't throw him off a

"Fuck!"

Simyeong stumbles back from the corner, a hand pressed over his pounding heart, and stares wide-eyed at Kim Sunghan. "Kim Sunghan-ssi," he says, and his voice is a hair's thread off from the normal. Unacceptable. He clears his throat. "My apologies."

Kim Sunghan's face is flushed—from the swearing, no doubt. He doesn't usually lose his composure like that. "Seok Simyeong-ssi. No, I apologize," he answers a little faintly, looking away and patting himself down. "I hadn't realized you were coming."

Which is strange. He's an A-rank, and Simyeong's a stat B-rank. Their auras are hardly on the level of an S-rank's, but they're still fairly noticeable. If not sensing each other's presence by aura, they'll hear each other coming, usually well in time to avoid this sort of fuss.

...Simyeong notices, suddenly, that he's been—Hm. Muting his presence, he supposes is the best way to put it. He feels buttoned up a touch too tight, and spares a hand to loosen his tie slightly as he relaxes his control.

"I hope everything went alright with Guild Leader's brother?" he asks delicately, choosing to gloss over the earlier mess for both their sakes. "I presume they're still speaking to each other, if you're here."

What he means, of course, is this: Are Guild Leader and his brother still talking? Or has his brother taken his leave already? Is the guild leader attending to his duties, or busy elsewhere? Is Yoohyun alright?

Kim Sunghan's response, here, should be prompt and to the point. He should square his shoulders, look darkly upset, and tell Simyeong with perfect professionalism and perfect surety that Han Yoojin has left (as usual), that Han Yoohyun was wildly upset (as usual), that he's requested privacy (as usual), and that he'll call Simyeong an hour from now to resume his activities for the day (as usual).

Kim Sunghan looks... spooked. He glances over his shoulders, back towards the meeting room, brows furrowing with uncertainty, and tells Simyeong, "I think... I don't know. I think Han Yoojin said something.” He stares at the ground, like he doesn’t believe his own words. “Or—maybe Guild Leader was angry."

Simyeong blinks at him. "What?"

"It was..." Kim Sunghan shakes his head. "Did you feel it? The—aura?"

"I felt something. Are you sure it was an aura? It's unlikely any aura would reach that far—"

He shakes his head again, more resolutely this time. "I was right outside. It was an aura." He swallows visibly. "But it wasn't Guild Leader's."

"...You're saying Han Yoojin Awakened?"

Instead of answering, he says, "He didn't go home." What? "Guild Leader took his brother to his house." What? "He said to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. And that you should stay on call, if possible." Some of Simyeong's bewilderment must show on his face, because Kim Sunghan shrugs, which for the man is a minute duck of the head. "He didn't explain himself. And Han Yoojin looked... distracted."

This tells him... well, not 'summarily nothing' like the uncharitable part of him would like to say, but Simyeong needs a moment to process. "Would you join me," he says, frowning slightly, "for a quick visit to the cafeteria? If there's anything else you can tell me, I would appreciate it. I should be fully briefed when Guild Leader calls for me."

Kim Sunghan raises a hand and massages the bridge of his nose, right there in the middle of the corridor. If Simyeong were a lesser man, he might gape at him. "I don't know what else I can tell you, or if it'll even help," he admits, "but I'll come."

As he lowers his hand, Simyeong notices the fine tremor in his fingers. He says nothing.

*

Sunghan had warned Seok Simyeong earlier. He doesn't blame him for not listening, though. It's hard to believe—

Han Yoojin is... small. Unassuming. An F-rank, Sunghan had thought in days past, without a doubt. (After all, what better would he possibly be good for? But that half of the thought was one he'd struck down viciously. No good or not, he was still Guild Leader's brother.)

So to see him sitting there, now—small, unassuming, hands folded neatly in his lap and watching Seok Simyeong and Han Yoohyun speak in low voices—and knowing that that's the person who—

He can't even put it into words. The sickness that had swept through him earlier was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The raw, unfiltered panic, the feeling that there was something out there that wanted him, personally, left as little more than a smear on the ground. The mindless terror of being so very, very alone.

That's maybe a fraction of what it felt like to be standing outside when Han Yoojin Awakened.

(That's not even getting into the exhaustion. The anger. Sunghan has been told he feels like tension in your muscles and the weight of a solid punch. Han Yoohyun feels like ever-burning fires and painful focus, when he relaxes his control inside dungeons.

Han Yoojin just feels like pain.)

Seok Simyeong keeps casting glances back at him. He's rattled, badly so, but Sunghan doesn't think Han Yoojin has noticed that. He seems just as distant as earlier, just as distracted, now that he's not seeing them as a threat.

From his perspective, it can't have looked—great. Sunghan answering the summons from their guild leader, marching through the mini portal alongside Seok Simyeong, shoulder to shoulder, both of them radiating tension. Heaven knows muscle memory almost had him reaching for Han Yoojin to throw him out.

And then Han Yoojin looked at them from where he was talking to Han Yoohyun, startled, and then Sunghan had choked, air ripped straight from his lungs, dropping to his knees, and thought in a small, startled voice, oh i'm going to die.

And then Han Yoohyun had yelped "hyung!" and Sunghan hadn't died, hadn't lost the ability to breathe, and Seok Simyeong was on his hands and knees at his side, and Sunghan had gripped his shoulder and steadied them both with a sympathetic-desperate look. It'll pass, he'd hoped that look had said, along with You see?

Suffice it to say, the rumors about ghosts that he overheard in the cafeteria are beyond understandable.

(Han Yoojin stares at the air with a distant blankness to his eyes. He ignores Han Yoohyun and Seok Simyeong talking about how he should register his Awakening, if he should register his Awakening. It takes a few calls of his name before he looks towards his younger brother, and even then the hollow darkness of his gaze doesn't fade entirely.

Sunghan watches him uneasily, and thinks that Seok Simyeong isn't the only one in this room who looks like he's seeing ghosts.)

[author-morgan]

Your work is so good, you should do this for a living! Your Ivarr stories are treasurers! Because quality Ivarr content that matches up exactly with my fantasies are rare, and I'm shit poet...

Could you please do one where the clan's dainty sweetheart secretly has the hots for Ivarr but avoids him because she doesn't know how to act around him.

He's also into her but thinks she hates him.

She gets terribly drunk for first time ever, throws herself at Ivarr...

Confused but also turned on, he internally struggles because doesn't want to take advantage of her.

He puts her to bed/or gets someone else to do it? Ubba? Because he doesn't trust himself to be alone with her?

Finds her when she's sober and not hungover, confronts her because drunken words are sober thoughts. She's embarrassed but they end up having really great sex!!!

i do write for a living, just not creative writing oh the joys of academia. apologies for the long wait, but here's more Ivarr! hope you enjoy! ♥ i kind of went overboard (like 3.3k words overboard) but it's Ivarr and i'm thirsty as hell for this bastard. Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

EIVOR SHAKES HIS head. His arms crossed with a frown playing on his lips. He doesn’t see what you do —why of all the people in Midgard, you only have eyes for Ivarr the Boneless. Even Ubba would be a better choice, he thinks. It’s in Eivor’s nature to worry over and protect the ones he loves after all he’s lost. You are another example of Styrbjorn’s charity to those he considered friends, just as he is Sigurd’s brother in all but blood, you are their sister and have been for many years —becoming a temper for the two rowdy boys, favoring the healing arts over swordplay and battle.

Since Eivor’s initial meeting with Ivarr in Repton, there’s been something about his methods and outlook that sets Eivor at unease, even more so now that he’s caught Ivarr’s gaze lingering on you —like now during the autumn feast. Some jest, saying opposites attract, and while that seldom seems to be the truth, it is for you and Ivarr. He is cold iron, warm blood, a harsh winter —and you’re soft silks, a cool breeze, fresh spring blooms.

He’s seen the looks you share with Ivarr. Fleeting and flirtatious, but that is nigh all you share besides few rushed words in passing. Ivarr cuts an intimidating presence, and you’ve never been quite sure how to converse with warriors beyond your brothers. It’s nigh as difficult for Ivarr —all he knows is bloodlust and his fellow drengrs— finding the right words to say is not a battle he thinks he can win. There’s fondness between you, almost everyone can see it, but there are times when Ivarr is left to wonder if you truly like him or if your soft smiles and kind words are only a product of his reputation.

Ivarr’s feelings are clear to himself, though, especially as he watches you among the people of Ravensthorpe, partaking in the autumn festivities. Seeing you wear a crown of gold and amber leaves, dancing with Ceolbert to the drunken tune of Bragi and his tagelharpa with a tankard of Tekla’s mead in hand makes his heart beat faster, and his mouth go dry. He keeps to the benches, reminding himself that a drengr does not dance —at least not this type of dance.

The evening fades, but the festivities don’t. Soma claims her clan throws the best feasts, though you’re tempted to challenge the jarlskona for the title since Ravensthorpe has grown. You look around, searching for your brothers, but Sigurd has retired for the evening, and Eivor is slumped over on one of the tables, asleep —his hand still curled around the handle of his mead cup. Sighing, you find Ivarr’s gaze in the hazy air of the longhouse, half-shocked by the intensity and darkness, half-eager to return the lust-laden stare with your own.

Emboldened by the mead, you gather another horn and move across the longhouse where Ivarr sits. With a smile, you offer him the horn of mead before taking the empty spot on the bench next to him. He eyes you, curious, as he turns up the horn —downing the mead in a few gulps— and turns his attention to you. Spurred on by the moment, you lean closer, twisting to drape your legs across his thighs, squirming more than needed. “What game are you playing at, little dove?” Ivarr asks, his gaze dark and tone dangerous. You only smile, flitting your eyes up to meet his as you tip up your cup.

The soft plucking lyre strings and the low thrum of the tagelharpa are nigh enough to lull you to sleep coupled with the stillness. When you start to sway, both from the trance of the music and the heaviness of your eyes, Ivarr brings you closer to his side before deciding it best to see you off for the night —lest he is on the receiving end of Sigurd or Eivor’s anger. Ivarr pushes the bench back from the table, slipping his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, rising with you cradled in his arms —head resting on the leather of his shoulder pauldron.

When Ivarr places you on the straw and rag stuffed mattress of your cottage at the eastern edge of the settlement, you are not eager to part with him —the bulge tenting his britches tell you he’s not eager to leave you either. “Don’t” —you hiccup, lips turning into a pout as you lift the hem of your skirt to show the bare skin of your calves and beyond— “don’t you want me?”

Gods, Ivarr wants you. Just the thought of lying with you sets his blood hot and racing —like a giddy boy before his first battle. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a woman more. But he can smell the mead on your breath and see the weariness hiding in your eyes. Ivarr knows it is the drink speaking for you, and he will not be the one to dishonor such a woman as you. “You’ve too much drink, little dove,” he chides in a rough chuckle, uncurling your fingers from their hold on his tunic. “Sleep,” Ivarr says, sitting back on his haunches —drinking in your appearance for a final time, “I doubt you’ll say the same thing come the morning.”

MORNING BREAKS AND so does your uneasy rest. The scent of smoke and mead clings to your skin and clothes, as does a dried sheen of sweat. Rising, you strip out of the soiled clothes and into a linen shift. With the hour still early and some only just retiring for bed from the feast, you gather up a cake of soap and boar-bristle brush, heading toward the small waterfall and pool at the northern edge of the settlement. Sparing a quick look around and now certain you’re alone, you strip, stepping into the clear, cool water with a sharp inhale.

Humming a soft song, you wring the suds from your hair and cross toward the bank where your clothes lay, but the snap of a branch underfoot stops you. Gaze darting around, you see him emerge from behind the trunk of a large tree near the stables. “Ivarr,” you greet, not shying away from his wandering gaze. His silence and the look in his eyes make you smile as you wade in his direction, stopping when the water brushes the underside of your breasts. “Are you watching me?” It’s a redundant question that needs no answer besides the hungry look in Ivarr the Boneless’s eyes.

“What you said last night–” he starts, voice surprisingly cautious, but you cut him off with a wave of a hand and scolding grin. “I was not that drunk, Ivarr.” Tekla’s mead had not dulled your senses, only gave you the courage to act on buried feelings. He lifts his brow and rakes his hand through his parted hair. “And yes. I meant it,” you tell him, wearing the same look now as you had last night nigh begging Ivarr to have his way with you. If Ivarr is surprised by the truth of your feelings, he hides it well. You motion to the pristine pool of water and bite down on your bottom lip before finding his gaze again. “Join me?”

Ties and buckles rustle as he hastily kicks away his boots, drops the fittings of his armor, and does away with his britches and tunic. Ivarr circles you like a wolf eyeing his wounded prey, and then he pounces, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans forward, trailing his nose along your shoulder and neck —rough hands trailing up your sides and around to your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

When you gasp, he bites down on your shoulder and rocks his hips into your ass with a low chuckle. “You know who I am?” He means it as a warning —a warning of his bloodthirsty and unkind nature, that he is not a man to sing sweet songs or offer tender caresses. You already know that, having been privileged to witness Ivarr the Boneless in battle and know him outside of his craft.

“I do,” you answer, unwilling to shy away. He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn to face him, stepping closer and look up at him under lidded eyes with a wicked smile that sends blood rushing to his already half-hard cock. Careening toward Ivarr, you brush your lips across his jaw, settling one hand over the dark tattoo of Yggdrasil on his breast. “And if I wanted gentle,” you breathe at his ear, nipping at his neck, “I would fuck one of the Saxon monks.”

Ivarr laughs, grinning, but it falters when you reach below the water and squeeze his cock and balls, giving no doubt to your intentions or your wants. “Careful, little dove,” he hisses, tilting your chin up. He hunches, ashen hair half-falling before his face as he leans down and kisses you, warm, open-lipped, and intoxicating.

You pull back with a groan, and Ivarr chasing your lips, stopped only by your hands cupping his face —thumb tracing the deep scar on his cheek. “While giving the gods a show sounds delightful” —Ivarr’s lusty eyes take on a twinkle at the thought. Suddenly he’s picturing you splayed out on a Christian altar, spent from his love with his seed dripping from your cunt. His cock twitches, pressed tight against your belly— “Sigurd or Eivor finding us like this is less enticing.” Had it been anyone other than Ivarr, your brothers would have turned a blind eye, but neither have particularly liked the interest you and Ivarr show in one another.

Stepping back, you grip onto his wrist, staying his hands from their wandering assault, and pull him toward the waterfall and the small cave beyond. Before Ivarr has a chance to move again, you smile for him in the dim light, sliding an open hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. With your lips pressed against his, Ivarr can only reciprocate —he parts your lips with his tongue, hands curling into your hips in a vice grip. But when the kiss breaks, you shimmy from his grasp and trail your lips to the dip in his neck —licking and laving.

“Having your lips on my skin is torture,” he inhales, hand fisting in your hair as you move down to the tattoo of Sleipnir at the center of his chest. You laugh softly and lean back, his eyes piercing through you. The smile on your lips is roguish, but you do not let up, making your way to his abdomen where a few small scars are clustered. Ivarr moans above you, and you haven’t even touched his aching, dripping cock yet. His hand reaches for your breasts, but you knock it away, having yearned for this moment for too long to let it slip away.

He titters at your enthusiasm and rolls his hips forward. Not dissuaded, you press your lips to the scar next to his navel, right below one of the dark runes tattooed on his abdomen. The hand still twined in your hair tightens, pushing you down to your knees. Ivarr’s legs are powerfully built, the muscles of his calves and thighs flex as you run your hand over them appreciatively, still finding small scars to trace and kisses, purposefully ignoring the hard cock pressed against his stomach. His hands clench as you kiss the skin of his thighs, your hair tickling the underside of his cock.

You smile at his surprised gasp when you drag the flat of your tongue along his cock, tracing along a vein running up the length of his shaft. Ivarr’s unable to hold back his groan when your fingers wrap around his girth, giving a few heavy strokes. And then, without warning, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt and iron and something forbidden and dangerous. Taking his cock as far as you can, you press your tongue against the underside, silently humming.

Above you, Ivarr chokes your name like a ragged prayer —it fills you with pride to know the son of Ragnar Lodbrok is coming apart at your hands and mouth, unable to say anything but your name. The lords of England may fear the whisper of his name, but right now, he is at your mercy.

Slowly, he begins to thrust himself into your mouth, but he makes no move to command your movements. Instead, his impatience wins over. He pulls you away from pleasuring him with your mouth. “Enough,” Ivarr says, his voice ragged as he crouches down, hand sliding from your hair and down to tweak one of your pebbled nipples, then lower still until he comes to the warmth between your thighs, slick with arousal. You whimper, gripping onto Ivarr’s shoulder when he pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling and thrusting. “On your knees, little dove,” he rasps. He warned you, and now he means to make good on his silent promise.

You struggle to gain your balance on the uneven ground of the small cave, but soon did, only to nigh lose it again when Ivarr slides the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds —thrice over before gripping onto your shoulder with one hand and guiding himself into your warmth with the other. Ivarr’s moan when he sinks inside you is breathless and airy, a misplaced sound from the likes of him. He grips you tight —one hand on your shoulder still, the other on your hip— holding your squirming body still as he eases his way into you. Your shoulders curl forward at the sudden wide spread of his cockhead into your body, fingers digging into the soft earth beneath you.

Ivarr pants against your shoulders —you can feel the open brush of his mouth along the sensitive skin of your spine and neck— as he draws his hips back and slams his cock back into you. You buck your hips back in time with his thrust, and Ivarr growls. You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. “Ivarr,” you chant, over-and-over.

He’s pounding hard immediately, giving in to the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you by evening. But it feels so fucking good. You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the low light, and eyes burning on you. He’s feral and ruined, and his fingers bend on your skin.

The building tension fades when he draws back, leaving you aching and empty. Ivarr spins you to face him as he reclines. “Ride me,” he commands, kissing you quickly, with an open mouth and teeth scraping your bottom lip. You pull away from the kiss, moving so you could sit atop him, straddling his hips, his back against a smoothed boulder. Breathless, Ivarr cannot be bothered with the loss of control —reckless abandon shines in your eyes, and he cannot help but grin as you slide down on his cock. He grunts enthralled at the feel of your warm cunt around him, walls clenching to feel every ridge and vein.

Moments pass, and you begin to move on top of Ivarr, rolling your hips into his. He groans, rough hands torn between holding onto your hips or pawing at your breasts. Instead, he decides to push himself up and let his lips attack your jaw and throat —biting and suckling— and annoyed at the slow in pace, Ivarr thrusts his hips up into yours, a sign to move faster. You don’t hesitate —lost to the exquisite bliss, clawing, desperate and eager. Holding Ivarr’s face in your hands, you try finding his lips with your own, but all you can do is moan and pant with him into his mouth, lost in the craven pleasure.

Ivarr bites hard in the crook of your shoulder and neck as he repeatedly drives his hips upward, chasing his and your releases. One of his hands slips between your bodies —his calloused thumb teasing your clit in a way that makes your hips stutter and body trembles, nails clawing into Ivarr’s shoulders. He grits his teeth, wondering if his little dove had broken skin. The burst of pain fades quickly as he watches your body bounce in time with his thrusts and listens to the moans and pants echoing off the cave walls and water.

He knows he’s close, his pants ragged and thrusts sloppy and desperate. The hitch in your breathing when he presses his thumb against your clit tells him you’re close to. It’s the boiling heat between you that takes hold, curling your toes and parting your lips in a silent throe, hands digging into Ivarr’s biceps as he chases his pleasure —teeth bared and bright eyes burning. Several thrusts later, his body tenses, and a dull warmth spreads between your connected bodies, and still, he is not done with the thrill of how you tremble and whine above him, but the rhythm soon slows, and you fall forward, resting your head on Ivarr’s chest.

You sit there, savoring the last twinges of carnal gratification, with your bodies rising and falling as you breathe in unison. And when the haze clears, you trace the small scars near his shoulders and follow the blue-black runes tattooed on his middle.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel him shift underneath you, sitting up on his hands. Ivarr glances over you —the small purple marks at the base of your neck from his lips and teeth, how your nipples are still hard, begging to have his mouth on them, and how your bodies are still connected. His cock is soft now, his seed seeping from your cunt and drying on your thighs —Ivarr thinks it a glorious sight. He hisses as he pulls himself out of your warmth, slowly, relishing in the gasps and whimpers you make at the resultant empty feeling it leaves between your thighs.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you tell him you must go —this escapade would have already made you late for your daily duties, and the last thing you wish is for one of your brothers or Valka to find you in this state. He follows you from the cave behind the waterfall, back to the bank where his and your clothes are strewn. Gentler than you’d imagine, Ivarr kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong, rough fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. “Come to me at nightfall,” you breathe against his lips, parting to gather up your clothes and shoes.

Ivarr grins, swatting your ass before pulling you against his chest, keeping you from reaching for your linen shift —his chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides between your legs and two fingers sinking into your cunt, still slick with your essence and his seed. “That eager for my cock again, little dove?” He laughs.

He’s silenced when you grind back into his hips with a glint of mischief shining in your eyes. Ivarr lets you go, though reluctant, and watches you dress from the corner of his eye. It’s impulse driving you when you decide duties can wait. Smiling, you grip onto Ivarr’s wrist —he’s only half-dressed in his britches and boots, tunic in hand— and drag him away from the waterfall and toward your home in the settlement. Consequences be damned. It feels as though the gods made you and Ivarr for one another, and you aren’t willing to let another moment be wasted.

[taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[eeveearoace-creative]

I have an idea for a "post-amphibia" story, and I'm not completely sure if I'm going to write it (especially since it's more a collection of little plot points rather than a whole story) but I wrote a scene, so enjoy.

Also, as a warning, it's a bit angsty (and doesn't really have a happy ending yet.)

Marcy took a deep breath.

Anne squeezed her hand while Sasha ran her fingers through Marcy’s hair, both of them trying to calm their girlfriend’s nerves.

Girlfriend.

The word sent a happy spark of energy through Marcy’s body.

She glanced over at her sister, Catherine, who was frowning as she stared down at her phone, muttering something to herself.

Shouldn’t they have been here by now?

Marcy shifted nervously, looking over at towards the front door. She was at the Boonchuys’ home, waiting for her parents to arrive. They had visited her a few times when she was in the Amphibian hospital, but this was going to be her first time seeing them since coming home.

Home.

After everything that happened, Earth didn’t really feel like home anymore. It reminded her of the feeling of ending a particularly good book; nothing felt the same, and yet the world didn't change.

It was a bookmark on life.

I’ll get used to it again.

Marcy sighed as she leaned against Sasha and Anne, grateful that her girlfriends were here with her. The two girls meant everything to her, and the psychical touch was comforting.

Even though she knew it would be fine, because they were her parents, Marcy felt a slight twinge of anxiety at the thought of seeing them again. They hadn’t really talked much when she was recovering in the hospital – but to be fair, she was injured and in another world, so it wasn’t exactly the most usual of circumstances for them.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Marcy bolted upright, her eyes snapping to look at the entrance of the house.

Moment of truth.

Anne’s mother got up and walked over to the door.

“Good afternoon, [MMom] and [MDad],” she greeted warmly. “Would you like to come inside?”

“Yes, please, Ms. Boonchuy,” Marcy’s mother responded, stepping into the house.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Anne’s father added, shaking hands with Marcy’s father and then with her mother.

“The feeling is mutual,” Marcy’s father agreed, following the other adults into the house.

Marcy’s parents looked happy. Relief bloomed in their daughter’s chest and she beamed, jumping up to run over to them.

“Mother, Father!” she cried, wrapping her parents in a hug.

“Hey there, sweetie,” her mother cooed, playfully ruffling her hair.

Marcy giggled.

“Hi, Marcy,” her father said with a smile.

Another pair of arms curled around them, and Marcy looked over to see Catharine hugging them.

“Hey, Mother, Father,” she said with a small laugh as they pulled apart, “How have you been?”

“Hello, Catharine,” her father laughed. “Well, and you?”

“I’ve been good,” she nodded.

“Alright, we should probably get going,” Marcy’s mother announced. “Are you ready?”

Not really.

Marcy glanced back at Anne and Sasha, feeling a slight twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving them, even though it wouldn’t be for long. But Sasha was smiling and Anne was giving her a thumbs-up, so Marcy took a deep breath as she turned back to her parents and nodded.

“Yep,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

Suddenly her father froze and shot her mother a concerned look before taking in a sharp inhale and looking back down at the black-haired girl.

“Marcy, you... you realize we moved, right?”

The world came crashing down.

No. Nonononono.

Marcy trembled as she shook her head slightly, backing away.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no...”

Her breath caught in her throat as she sank to the floor, tears stinging her eyes.

A flaming sword pierced through her chest, and she was going to die before she even got a chance to apologize.

It was a nightmare, but it felt so real, and it hurt so much as her two best friends kept reminding her how much of a terrible person she was.

She couldn’t control her own body as she unwilling attacked the people she loved, drawing blood.

Marcy’s shoulders shook violently as she struggled to breathe, her vision blurred by crying.

It wasn’t enough...? she wondered. Even after everything I put them through... I’m still going to lose them?

There were screams of “Are you serious?” and “After everything they’ve gone through...!” and “What’s wrong with you?” but Marcy barely heard them.

Because she was going to move away.

She was going to lose her best friends – her girlfriends – again.

People continued to scream, but Marcy wasn’t listening, curling herself up into a ball and crying, wanting to disappear.

“Enough!”

A voice cut through the noise and Marcy looked up to see Catharine trembling with rage as she glared at their parents.

“You have to understand-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snarled. “After everything Marcy’s gone through, you’re still trying to make her move away? I don’t care if you got a better job – you can’t just make her leave everything behind, especially after everything they’ve just gone through!”

“Getting stranded in Amphibia only happened because she was trying to run away from her problems,” her father argued.

“Yeah, and you know what?” Catherine growled. “I don’t care. I get it, you shouldn’t run away from your problems, and sometimes you have to accept change – whatever. But these girls have gone through hell and back, and you can’t just tear them apart again.”

“Cat, we can’t move back,” her mother added more gently. “We’ve already sold the house, and your father can’t give up on this job-”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Catharine’s voice was cold.

“Lose both of your daughters if you want to, but I’m not letting you take Marcy away.”

“You only just graduated from college,” her father scoffed. “Do you really think you could take care of a child?”

“I can handle it,” Catharine hissed, her eyes narrowing into slits.

Marcy’s mother glanced nervously between her daughter and husband, anxiously chewing her lip.

“How about this?” she offered. “We’ll leave Marcy with you for now, and if it goes well, maybe she can stay a little longer. But if it doesn’t, she’s coming home to stay with us, okay?”

“Okay,” Catharine muttered.

The tension in the air was suffocating as Marcy’s parents left the house, leaving their daughters with Sasha and the Boonchuys.

“Oh, Mar-Mar,” Anne murmured, sliding down next to Marcy and wrapping the smaller girl in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Sasha sat down and wordlessly rested her chin on the top of Marcy’s head, gently and carefully rubbing the trembling girl’s back.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Catharine promised, reaching out and squeezing her sister’s hand.

“No,” Marcy whimpered. “It’s not.”

Anne and Sasha held her tighter, and Marcy sank into the embrace with a sob.

[mageofseven]

Thank you both for requesting! I was originally gonna split this up into two posts, one for a good ending and one for a bad ending, but I think I found a way to keep both within this post with how I decided to format it. However, while I was writing Satan's section, I hit the word limit for a post. I didn't even realize that was a thing 😳

Basically, that's why this ask is still gonna be separated into multiple parts, likely 3 but we'll see. I honestly didn't think I'd write this much, but this ask got me so inspired, it's crazy.

So everyone! This is gonna continue off from the pregnancy discovered in this post. If you haven't seen it yet, it's worth a read.

Below is Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi's sections.

Part 2 | Part 3

~

Lucifer:

The man thought he was prepared. He thought.

Lucifer expected all different kinds of physical ailments that he would have to help MC cope through; he didn't expect the ailments to be mental.

He noticed it start around her fourth month. Before that point, the demon was surprised at how calm things were. His Love went through the usual struggles of human pregnancy, like the morning sickness in the first trimester, but that was all. Nothing odd had happened and though he was grateful, Lucifer was also suspicious.

The start was subtle. His Love's spirits had been seeming down, despite keeping a cheerful outlook for all the weeks before this. She was happy for this child and it was infectious, easing the Avatar of Pride's worry about fatherhood and making him look forward to this child as well.

That was shattered when the low spirit had suddenly progressed into a heavy depression. MC couldn't even leave their bed most days and getting her to eat had become a challenge for the first brother.

He simply couldn't understand the sudden nose dive in mood and any questioning came up empty. MC didn't know why she felt what she felt and that scared her.

It was the end of that month when the fear really set in though.

Lucifer had a meeting with Diavolo at the castle. He had laid in bed and cuddled his girlfriend close beforehand, giving her a kiss and promising he'd be back in a couple hours.

He had only been gone for 10 minutes when he got a call from Mammon, who was freaking out. The older brother couldn't fully make out what the second brother was saying, but he heard his Love's name in jumble that was his brother's words so he hung up and rushed back home.

Discovered all six of his brothers in his room, trying to calm a panicked MC, who was screaming and crying on the floor.

The demon rushed to her side, trying to calm her down and figure out just what was happening. His Love clung to him and he could feel the her heart beating as if it meant to break free from her chest and the man felt powerless.

Luckily, it only took about a minute of being in his arms for the woman to stop screaming. She cried in his arms for a while and slowly, her heart beat settled.

Lucifer was so confused. What happened and why? The man shooed his brothers out of the room before carrying his Love back to the bed.

Discovers that after he left, an uneasiness set in that quickly turned into blind panic. The woman didn't even notice the brothers or hear any of their attempts to calm her.

To say that the demon was concerned would be an understatement. He had to convene with Diavolo at once for a new reason.

The man laid with his girlfriend till she fell asleep, exhausted from her previous panic.

Lucifer called his friend and apologized for his absence before explaining the situation. Lord Diavolo, now concerned as well, decided to come to House of Lamentation instead.

The two discussed the issue in his study. The lord listened to his friend's predicament before explaining that this was likely a side affect of MC's angel heritage.

Right now, their baby was trying to form its soul along with its body and the demon child needs dark energies to do so. The woman's body is trying to absorb this dark energy for the child, but her repressed angel spirit is trying to repel it all, causing her own body and soul to fight. Her brain is the battle ground.

The reason it triggered in his absence is likely a psychological thing. Lucifer himself, as all demons do, radiate the very dark spiritual energy his child needs so, despite her soul's rejection, her great trust in her boyfriend gives her feelings of safety and has her mind lend support to her body to absorb the energy the baby needs.

To sum it up, his presence is the only thing keeping his girlfriend and child alive right now.

At this news, the man changes up everything about his schedule to stay near MC. He does all his paperwork at the desk in his room instead of in his study, he stops attending RAD the few days a week he still was at that time, made his meetings with Diavolo limited to only the most important work issues and always take place within his study at House of Lamentation. Sometimes he did have to leave her side, like for said meeting or simply because he had to grab food or use the restroom.

During those times, he'd call one of his brothers in to watch her. The demon had discovered that though her trust in them was not as great as it was in him, that trust still provided somewhat of a psychological cushion for her.

However, though their presence prevented full blown panic, it wasn't enough stop her from crying incessantly.

Most of his brothers could not handle her tears so it was usually Beel or Satan that accompanied her during these times.

It was hard for all of the men to watch, Lucifer included. He couldn't help blaming himself, knowing his carelessness had gotten her into this situation. Still, he had to keep it together for her sake.

The months went by and her belly grew. Lucifer missed that excitement he felt in the beginning of all of it when MC glowed with positivity. Now, unlike the times he was smiling and rubbing her belly as the two cuddled and discussed baby names, the emotionally exhausted demon saw it nothing more than a visual timer, reminding him that this will all be over soon.

Good Ending:

After a long nine months of his Love's mental and emotional suffering, the time finally came. It was late at night, around 3am when his Love awoke with labor pains. Lucifer was already awake and at his desk doing paperwork. He immediately called the doctor that Lord Diavolo had recommended for them before approaching his love and trying to calm her. This was it. It will all be over soon and his human will finally be happy once again.

Five and half hours later, the couple was greeted by a beautiful baby girl. The small baby had her mother's hair, her father's red eyes, and a bit surprisingly, her father's black wings. MC cried as she stared down at her daughter; her tears were accompanied by a smile though. A smile. That was enough for Lucifer, who started to tear up at the scene.

"You did so well, Love." He leaned down and kissed his girlfriend's head, staring down at the baby, now drinking from her mama's chest. "I'm so proud of you."

All the days before this were tortuous for the couple, as well as the rest of the House of Lamentation, but finally some happiness was lighting up the household.

The two end up naming their daughter Ksenia.

Bad End:

The demon sighed. He was at his desk, going through paperwork while his Love slept in bed behind him. It was 1am and though that never used to be such a late time for him, these last few months had him exhausted him. His worry and care for his girlfriend took up most of his energy these past few months. MC was already entering her eighth month of pregnancy. The two were just so close to putting this all behind them and being happy. So close.

Lucifer gave a huff and laid his pen down on the desk. His concentration was waning regardless of how much he fought it. He glanced over his shoulder at MC, watching her sleep peacefully. That's the only way she finds peace anymore, by shutting off her mind and losing consciousness. Every waking moment for her is a heavy one and moments she even perceives that she might be alone causes her heart to race in her chest... all she's knows anymore is that pain and sadness yet she pushes on for the sake of their child.

Lucifer stood up and approached the bed, staring down at his Love with a guilty heart. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as he laid his hand on her round belly. There were so many moments during all of this that... he cursed his child for doing this to her. Never aloud, just within the confines of his heart. It was always followed by a reminder that the fault is his own though, not his child's. Their child didn't make any decision nor was it actively trying to hurt their mother. No, this child exists because of him and MC, because of his choices and carelessness. None of the blame truly falls on his child; it falls on himself.

He gave her belly a gentle stroke, a silent apology to the child he felt that he had wronged. Already, he felt that he was making his previous words ring true; he's a terrible father to his child. The night that MC told him she was pregnant, he confessed this fear to her.

"I should have been better. Now what's stopping me from making the same mistakes with our child?"

"Me." She answered, without missing a beat. "Lucifer, you're not alone anymore. This... we can do this together."

He still remembers those words and they roll through his head every time the fear of fatherhood decides to rear its ugly head within his mind. No matter how scared he is on the inside, no matter what happens now, he cannot let himself be engulfed by it all. No. MC needs him now and he refuses to break for her sake.

The demon steps away from the bed and heads towards the door. He shouldn't leave her, he knew that, but sometimes he just had to. It was maddening, confining himself to his room for months on end. Occasionally, and only when his Love is asleep, he allows himself to step away from the room and head downstairs to his office.

Here he sat at his desk, pulling a bottle of demonus from his drawer. It would probably look bad to anyone finding him drinking alone in his office at a time like this, but the man was stressed and he only gave himself the luxury of doing so every two weeks or so.

The man lost track of time while he was down there and before he knew it, the sun was rising. Lucifer sighed before hiding the bottle back in his desk and went back upstairs to join his girlfriend in bed.

Instead, he found her lying on the wooden floor. He raced up, calling her name and pulling her into his arms to better check her.... she was cold. The demon's eyes widened as he checked for a pulse. None... no pulse, no breath...his Love was gone.

Later, he finds out what happened from Barbatos, who checked into the past for him. His Love awoke in a panic after a nightmare to find herself all alone. The usual panic from that compounded with the fear from the nightmare and it was too much for her heart, causing her to have a heart attack. No one heard her because her last moments were filled with her desperately trying to mute herself because she didn't want him or his brothers to hear and burden them with herself once more.

Lucifer was completely torn about this. In the space of a couple hours, he lost both his girlfriend and his daughter (Barbatos told him) because he left his room at the worst opportunity and because he didn't know she felt that way. The emotionally exhausted man never knew she saw herself as a burden. It never occurred to him that she could actually have believed such a ridiculous thing. But he should have. He should have spoke out more. As many times as he told he loved her, as many times as he told her everything would be okay, he never told her specifically that it was okay to lean on him because he didn't know that she needed to hear that.

And now they're gone. And now Lucifer has to live with feeling like he was both a bad father and a bad boyfriend.

Mammon:

It all started off pretty simple in theory: morning sickness

MC's morning sickness was strong and unfortunately, didn't just happen in the mornings.

The two had to skip a lot of school days at RAD. Lucifer allowed this, but had a hell of a time negotiating with their teachers, especially Mammon's, so they aren't penalized too much for this.

MC really couldn't eat breakfast. Or lunch for that matter. If she tried, she'd end up puking it up before even finishing the meal.

She could eat dinner, but it had to be something pretty light for her stomach.

It became so much more complicated as the pregnancy progressed.

Morning sickness usually ended during the first trimester, but it never actually stopped for MC. In fact, the farther she got into her pregnancy, the less her body could keep down.

This freaked Mammon out and he kept running to Lucifer, asking if there's something, anything he can do to help this.

For a while, all he could do was comfort his weakened human... but it was hard.

During her sixth month, it was hard to even look at MC some days because, despite being pregnant and her belly sticking out, the woman had actually lost weight since becoming pregnant; other than her growing belly, she was all skin and bones. Her legs, arms, even her face, all boney and sunken. She started to look as if the life was being sucked out her.

Somehow, the human stayed cheerful. Honestly, her boyfriend didn't understand it; their baby was practically starving her, but she still smiled.

The only time she showed any fear was when she'd tell Mammon how worried she was for their baby; she hadn't felt it kick yet and she was worried it was too weak to do it.

Everytime she spoke this worry, Mammon would hold her close and start rubbing her belly.

"Now, don't go talking like that." He leaned in and laid a kiss to her temple. "Baby is gonna fine."

"But they--"

"But nothin', babe. You know it's a bit on the early side for that anyhow."

"It's early for others to feel something, but I should have felt something before this, a flutter or something but they--"

Tears poured down her cheeks, breaking her man's heart. Mammon froze for a moment before leaning in with a kiss.

"A-Are you sure they'll be okay?" She sniffled, looking up into his eyes.

"Of course, you think I'd lie to you?" He asked before giving her belly a gentle rub. "Look how our kid has grown already! If something went wrong, they wouldn't still be growing, now would they?"

"I... I guess."

Despite everything he said, the Avatar of Greed was scared shitless. What if she was right and something already went wrong? What if he already failed her and his kid? Those thoughts were too much for him though so he did whatever he could to push them aside.

It was during her seventh month when Lucifer discovered a potion she could try, one that could help with the nausea and help her keep more food down.

Mammon had to give it to her every morning, but it helped her keep most of her meals down and regain her strength.

The first few days, they kept her on light meals just in case, but afterwards, she had free reign to eat whatever she craved.

This was when the late night food runs started happening. In all honesty, Mammon never thought he'd be so grateful to be woken up at 2am to get weird food combos like ice cream and beef jerky (MC seemed to have a thing for sweet 'n salty food combos).

Things were finally starting to seem okay; MC was eating, regaining her weight, and just seemed so happy. Not forced positivity, but some real happiness.

Then, around half way done with her 7th month, it happened. MC was sitting in the living room with Mammon and a couple of his brothers she suddenly gasped.

"M-Mammon!"

The man jumped up and rushed to her side. All of the brothers were now standing too, alarmed.

"Shit! What's wrong??"

She grabbed his hand his hand and laid it on her belly. He gave her a confused look for a moment till it happened. A kick! Their baby actually kicked!

MC cried, but also smiled as she saw his face light up.

"Holy-- see! I told you our kid was alright!" He grinned. "Just goes to show that you need to be trusting The Great Mammon more!"

The other brothers settled back down in their seats. Beel actually smiled at the happy couple, grateful that things seem to be turning around for them.

Good Ending:

The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly, thanks to the potion. The couple's worries seemed to disappear for the most part. MC was eating again and healthier; their baby was kicking and seemed pretty lively. There were even nights where the kid kept their mother up (and in turn, their father) with all their kicks and movements, but they were glad to trade sleepless nights for the confirmation that their child was healthy too.

It was her 39 week, just barely missing the nine month mark, when MC went into labor. Mammon panicked in the beginning, causing MC to have to calm him down through her labor pains. The demon eventually got a grip on himself and started helping his girlfriend. After six hours of labor, the couple was greeted with a baby girl, who had her daddy's white hair, her mama's eyes, and surprisingly, two little nubs on her head, which will likely grow into horns just like her dad's. The couple cried along side their bundle of joy. Mammon leaned down and kissed his Human.

"You did so good, Babe. Just look at our girl there."

Most of the pregnancy... it definitely wasn't easy, but when the couple stared down at their little girl, they knew it was all worth it.

The couple ended up naming their daughter Cassia.

Bad End:

It was during the beginning of MC's eighth month when she went into labor. Mammon still remembers her panicked tears as she kept saying over and over that it was too soon. The second born had Lucifer call the doctor as he just held her close and tried to calm her. He gave his all to stay calm himself, but his Human's fear and pain really broke him down inside to the point where he'd have to quickly wipe a tear of his own away before she saw it.

In the end, MC's body was just too weak. Even though she recently had been able to regain some of her strength, it didn't erase the months before that of her body being near starved. The doctor was barely able to save his daughter. Mammon can still remember the look on his girlfriend's face when their girl entered the world, a weak smile of relief. She went to say something, but suddenly exhaled her last breath, leaving her body permanently stilled.

And just like that, he lost the only person who he felt gave a damn about him. He remembers collapsing in on himself while his brothers only saw him stare far away into space. He remembered when his younger brothers started throwing insults and blame his way, saying his stupidity killed her. And he remembered throwing himself against the brother closest to him, later noticing it to be Belphie, just punching him and crying. This shocked them to the point that no one, not even Beel stepped up to stop him for the longest moment. This wasn't Mammon. Mammon never laid a hand on his brothers.

Lucifer was the one who snapped out of it first and pulled the second born off of Belphie. The room was silent as he cried, practically in unison with his daughter in the other room. That was the moment where each of his brothers started to realize just how much Mammon loved MC. All of the brothers cared about her and were hurting from her death, but this was first moment where they really took the Avatar of Greed seriously with his own feelings.

The Brother's were a lot softer with Mammon from then on. No matter what he stole from them, no matter how much debt he racked up, they kept a certain tenderness in their heart for the brother who lost it all with MC's death.

As a dad... Mammon tried his best. No one doubted that, even when the other brothers had to jump in to feed the girl or quiet her cries while her father either cried in bed or searched for some sort of distraction to calm his mind. Looking at Cassia... it was hard for the dad. He'd look down into her eyes, the same eyes she got from her mother, and could only think about how MC should be there with him now... but how she's not.

As a baby and toddler, Cassia was mostly raised by Asmo and Beel. As a child, she had gotten closer with her Uncle Lucifer. Mammon was a loving, but distant dad who constantly tore himself down even when his brothers no longer did.

Leviathan:

Levi and MC got a good five months before facing any major difficulties.

Outside of the morning sickness in the beginning, everything was pretty calm with the pregnancy till then

And what happened at this point in time... honestly, no one could have predicted this.

The two were sitting in his room, each reading their own chosen manga.

When the woman had risen from his side, the otaku didn't really give it any thought, just assumed that she needed to go pee or grab another pillow.

It wasn't till heard a splash to his left that he looked up from his book and saw his pregnant girlfriend at the bottom of his giant fish tank.

Panicking, the demon dropped his book his and rushed up to the top of fish tank. He didn't even notice that he transformed into his demon form before jumping in and swimming down to the human

He quickly swam up with her and carried her back out and onto his floor.

"Shit shit!" The man stared down at the unconscious human, brain being uncooperative as he realised they were not breathing. Then it clicked and Levi put both hands on his Human's chest and repeatedly pressed down, starting CPR.

When his girlfriend eventually coughed up the water in her lungs and came to, he nearly fainted in relief.

He scooped her into his arms and started crying.

"W-What were you thinking???"

The demon didn't understand what just happened. His Henry almost drowned. And she was the one threw herself in! Was she trying to kill herself? Was the whole pregnancy and parenthood stuff getting too scary for her? Was he not taking care of her good enough? Oh devil... what if she thinks he's gonna be a bad dad and just wants to end it all now??

As the Avatar of Envy always did, he thought of the worse outcomes that he could blame himself for.

"I... Levi, what happened?"

??!!

"What do you mean, what happened? You tried to drown yourself!"

The woman's eyes went wide and she frantically shook her head.

"I... no! I would never do that to our baby!"

Even now, she wasn't even thinking of her own life. Just their child's. Levi was scared for their kid's life too, but got so panicked over her's that he didn't mention it before.

As he looked down into her horrified expression, the demon knew she was telling the truth. Or, at least she believed she was.

For a second, the man doubted what he just saw, just experienced. Her drenched hair and clothes were the only things that cemented him in the knowledge that he was right.

But then why did she sincerely believe differently?

Levi texted Lucifer that there was an emergency and needed him in his room now before he helped MC get changed out of her wet clothes.

By the time Lucifer came to the room, MC was in Levi's pj pants and one of his tshirts with a blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm.

Lucifer could sense something different with MC the moment he entered the room. As a demon skilled with magic and curses, he could sense the energy shift within her

And once his younger brother explained what had happened, it had all clicked into place for the first brother. Granted, it was just a theory at this stage, but all signs still pointed to it.

The situation seemed to be a side affect of her pregnancy and a magical one at that. Her baby needed something that they weren't getting so they took the reigns and made their mother give it to them.

That something? Water. The baby seems to have inherited they're father's affinity for water.

Levi was frozen where he and MC sat on the couch.

Basically what the third brother was hearing was that this was his fault, that he almost lost his girlfriend and baby because he has a connection to water.

The demon was ready with a slew insults to express his self blame, but was stopped by MC's quick kiss.

"Hey... none of that." She said softly. "It's okay, it's not your fault. Besides, you saved me."

She knew her boyfriend well enough to know when he was gonna tear himself down but this... she couldn't let him blame himself for something this big.

As per Lucifer's advice, MC started lounging in the bath a couple times a day to see if that would curb her baby's need to be surrounded by water. And surprisingly, it worked.

But as her pregnancy progressed and her belly grew, so did her need to be in water. She'd be fine for a few weeks then suddenly there would be another fish tank incident (though luckily, Levi would stop her before she would even get her feet wet) and her boyfriend would rush her to the bathtub. Each time this happened, the amount of sessions and length of said sessions in the bath increased.

In all honesty, it probably wasn't good for her skin to lay in water so much, but considering this was a life or death situation for her and the baby, it was worth dealing with pruney skin.

It got to the point where it felt like most of her day was spent in the tub and the woman hated it.

Actually ended up convincing Levi to join her for some sessions and loved snuggling up to her boyfriend in the tub.

Honestly, it was something the human wanted to continue between them even after her pregnancy.

Levi had to keep a close eye on her for the remaining months, which was stressful for the otaku, who couldn't really indulge in his usual hobbies, knowing he'd get too absorbed and possibly miss it the moment she needs him.

Still, the demon took care of his Henry well.

Good End:

The woman so ready to birth this baby. MC was so tired of spending her days in the bath tub and being sore and pruney so when the day came, she was nervous, but relieved. She was about a week overdue when her water broke and she went into labor. Levi was a nervous wreck for a most of it, but MC was very patient with him, despite her pain.

After six and half hours of labor, MC held their baby boy in her arms. Levi just stared in wonder at his son. His son. Who would of thought this would ever happen? If you would have told him before he met MC that he'd be a dad someday, he would of said something was wrong with you. If you would of said it after they started dating, he would of told you there was no way MC would wanna give him such a gift.

But there he was, staring down at the son that MC spent hours pushing out and even almost drowned once, just to bring him into this world. This... MC really was amazing.

"Do you wanna hold him?" She smiled at her boyfriend, breaking his thoughts.

The man tensed up, but gave a shy nod.

His girlfriend explained how to hold the baby before setting their son in his arms and telling him to make small adjustments. Levi stared down at his child, who had his hair and MC's eyes. Heck, the little boy even had a tail just like his. The man started tearing up and the human laughed.

"Don't... I'm not crying, I swear..."

After reviewing some of the baby names they talked about, the couple decided on the name Kai.

Bad End:

MC was halfway through her seventh month when it happened. They had recently had another incident of the woman finding her way to the fish tank and had to adjust her bathing schedule again. Bad news: MC had to spend another two hours in the tub each day. Good news? The woman should be incident-free for another couple weeks.

This was why Levi felt it was okay to leave the house, something he rarely felt like doing. He used to never mind spending most of his time in his room. Before this pregnancy, it was his safe haven, where he retreated into in order to avoid all of his troubles and the judgement that he felt he got from the world. Since MC has been pregnant though, that has been the room she spent all her time in, especially since things got... complicated.

His room was no longer a safe place; on the contrary, it was where all of his stress and fears lied. He still powered through it most days for MC's sake, but on transition days where the pattern showed her to be safe, he'd leave the house to go to the comic book store (which also sold manga). He made sure his brothers would keep checking up on her while he was gone.

But they didn't. For a variety of reasons, none of this brothers checked in on her until it was too late. Lucifer was busy working in his study. Mammon left for his modeling gig. Satan was out plotting things with Mephisto. Asmo was in his room, talking on the phone with someone while he did his nails. Beel was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner and fighting the urge to just eat the ingredients. Belphie was asleep.

Eventually, Beel made his way to Levi's room to check on MC and found her floating face-down in the fish tank. Levi didn't come home until an hour after she was found. He started heading to his room when Lucifer stopped him and called him into the living room. His heart sank when he entered and saw all his brothers sitting around the room. Asmo was crying. Mammon was pretending not to be. The rest of his brothers simply look depressed.

Apparently, MC skipped a bath time while he was gone. She was just so on edge and didn't want to force herself into the water yet. The baby did though. And now they are both gone.

And just like that, the third brother was alone again. Levi locked himself in his room for months after her death, not leaving for school or to even eat. His brothers brought his meals to his room, but he often needed encouragement to eat. The man just wanted to cave into himself and hide away from it all, but the one place he could hide was the same room the human he loved died in... because he wasn't there to comfort her and have her take her bath.

He was so utterly alone. No Henry. No baby. And he felt that he had no one to blame but himself.

~

Part 2 | Part 3

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

[caloroso-cosmos]

Dearest Autumn,

I know my message is much too late and I apologize so much to you. But I wanted to thank you for thinking of me and writing me this sweet ask. I hope you're doing well, and you've spent some wonderful holidays with your loved ones, especially Jonathan. I just finally got a few days off and will respond to your DMs as soon as I can. I haven't forgotten you and I'm terribly sorry. Things are just pretty exhausting and tiring. But enough of that.

I thought I'd write you a little something as a gift, as I promised you I would. I don't know if I characterized you two correctly and I wish it had come out a bit better. But maybe you'll like it a little anyway.

Take good care of yourself. I'm thinking of you. Love from Sue💜💜

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

It was winter in Gotham City, a really nice winter. It was cold, heavy clouds hung in the air. The perfect conditions for a white Christmas. And that's exactly what happened. It was snowing, perhaps for the first time in years. Beautiful thick flakes trickled from the sky, covering the city with a blanket of white. The snow muffled the roar of the cars' engines as you walked through the streets. A welcome change from the otherwise much too loud noise in the hectic city. You wrapped the coat you were wearing a little tighter around you and rubbed your cold hands in an attempt to warm up a bit. Small clouds of condensed air left your mouth with every breath you took, the snow crunching under your shoes.

You were glad it wasn't far to the old building. You took a shortcut through the local park. Children were playing happily squealing and laughing, some of them building a big snowman which they decorated with hat and scarf. Others made snow angels or sat on sleds and swooshed down the small hill in the middle of the park. All of this made you giggle and filled you with such happiness and glee. A surge of new energy flooded your body and made you walk a little faster. You couldn't wait to finally see him again.

A few more minutes passed before you finally reached said building. You knocked twice on the large wooden door and then gently bobbed up and down on the balls of your feet as you waited to be let in. And then, after a brief moment that felt like a few seconds and endless hours at the same time, the door opened and you finally saw the man your heart so longed to see.... Jonathan Crane.

“My beloved Autumn..."

He gently reached for your cold hand to bring it to his lips and breathe a kiss on it that made goosebumps spread, such an effect he had on you. Not only the warmth that emanated from him, but also the love for you. At this moment, it was almost tangible. You looked at him and your eyes sparkled. A big and genuine smile stole onto your lips. "I'm so happy you found your way here tonight, darling. Come on in."

You followed him into his apartment and, quite the gentleman he was, he took your coat from you to hang it on the coat rack. A small puddle formed on the floor, from the snow that was melting from the warmth that was in Jonathan's apartment. And it wasn't just the snow that melted. You too felt as if you were turning into a puddle, so soft were you.

Again he gently held your hand, but this time to lead you into his living room. You looked around. It was a large room chic and somewhat old fashioned furnished, it felt cozy and homey. He had even put up a few festive decorations, just for you - it was a very special occasion, everything should be perfect for you. A pleasant warmth greeted you, as a fire blazed in the small fireplace in the middle of the room. The wood crackled softly as the flames slowly engulfed it. A truly romantic and cozy atmosphere. Jonathan guided you both to the rather vintage sofa, on which you both sat down side by side. Intuitively, you moved a little closer to him, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder. You could hear him chuckling quietly.

"I really missed you and longed for you so much. i couldn't wait to finally be with you, dearest."

"I... I felt the same way, Autumn. You are constantly on my mind. I've been dying to see you again." His blue eyes looked intensely into your dark brown ones. He sighed deeply. "I have a little something for you, my love."

You watched him get up from his place next to you to go to the closet on his right, open one of the drawers, and take out of it a small package delicately wrapped in gold paper and decorated with a red bow. He held it carefully in his hand and then went back and sat down next to you.

"This...is really for me?" You looked at him and blinked, because you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. When he smiled and nodded, you finally accepted his gift. Your hands trembled a little as you unwrapped the small package, so touched were you. Your fingertips carefully ran over the box that was revealed before you slowly opened it as well. You gasped when you saw what was inside. It was a silver necklace with a delicate pendant, a clef.

"Oh, Jonathan... This is just beautiful. I...I'm speechless."

"I'm glad you like it, Autumn." Jonathan's voice was almost a whisper, so soft and melodic. "May I?"

You were still at a loss for words so you nodded silently, which once again made him smile. He took the necklace from you. His hands worked carefully, brushing your hair aside so he could access your neck and put the necklace on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his touch. Then he looked at you. His eyes were literally burning and you thought his usually bright blue eyes were a little darker.

"You are so beautiful, Autumn..."

An incredible warmth rose in your chest, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach. You remained motionless for a few seconds, thinking. Then you closed the distance between the two of you. Your arms gently wrapped around him as you pulled him into an soft embrace.

"I love you, Jonathan," you murmured under your breath, burying your face in his chest.

"I love you, too." And after his initial shyness and reservedness slowly faded away, he returned the hug and kissed the top of your head. You remained in this position for a while until you lifted your head and you both smiled at each other, so much love was in your eyes. Then he asked you, "How about a dance, darling?"

"I would love that."

He moved away from you to walk to the other end of the room, where an old record player sat on a small table. He grinned to himself because he already had everything set up. All he had to do was position the needle on the record. And immediately the room was filled with the sweet sounds of Morzart's Ave Verum Corpus. Jonathan walked up to you.

"May I please have this dance, my love?”

You reached for his hand and rose from your seat. You intertwined your fingers, his other hand gently resting on your hip to guide you. Together you moved to the soft sound of the melody. In this very moment, you forgot about everything around you. It was just you and Jonathan. Two people who felt such love and special connection for each other. You moved back and forth, he spun you elegantly.You swayed as he held you close the entire time. And when the music finally faded, it was his turn to pull you into a tight embrace. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, then rested his hand against your cheek. His gaze fell to your lips. You smiled in sweet anticipation as you noticed. And just a moment later, your lips met in a kiss so full of unspoken words and emotions. You closed your eye and enjoyed being close to him.

This was just the beginning of a beautiful evening that you would spend together in tenderness. Just the two of you in peace and quiet. In your own universe.

Dear Sue,

Thank you for this lovely message and for the charming story and gorgeous moodboard that you've written and created for Jonathan and I 🥺 It was a most pleasant surprise. Please don't apologize, I understand that you have been extremely busy and that life had been sending many challenges in your direction in the last few months. I only hope that things have become less hectic for you and that you're able to find time to rest, take care of yourself, and do (more) of the things that makes you happy. Please take your time with responding to my DMs, there's no hurry, your holiday/break time takes precedence 😊

Thank you so so much for the story and moodboard ❤️ I thoroughly enjoyed reading the story and I cannot tell you how happy I was upon receiving your ask, I really appreciate you taking the time to write me this story and create the corresponding moodboard ❤️ I'm afraid I have to say that I don't like the story 'a little', I LOVE it!! 🥰🥰 You've captured Jonathan and I very well (I have a soft spot for "his blue eyes looked intensely into your dark brown ones" 🥺), this story is truly a gem 💎The story is incredibly detailed, from the description of the context and environment to what's going through the minds of the characters. Below are a few (okay, well, maybe more than a few 😂) of my favourite quotes/moments:

"And then, after a brief moment that felt like a few seconds and endless hours at the same time...you finally saw the man your heart so longed to see....Jonathan Crane."

The way you described the wait was perfect, how that brief moment can seem so short yet so long at the same time. You captured the moment perfectly 👌

"Not only the warmth that emanated from him, but also the love for you."

I have no words for this; 🥺🥺👈that's literally how I felt

I loved how you described Jonathan's apartment - "somewhat old fashioned furnished" - this is so much a Jonathan 'thing' that I chuckled. And I just loved how you described the fireplace and the atmosphere in the living room - sighs contentedly

"I have a little something for you, my love."

I feel so blessed - Sue, you writing this was already more than enough for me, but now I get to receive something from Jonathan, too? 🥺 And not just anything, either, a beautiful necklace of a treble clef?! Breathtaking...😮

The moment after Jonathan put the necklace on, how you wrote that I embraced him and burying my face in his chest, that characterization was on point. So was the bit where you wrote that he already had everything set up for the dance 👌

May I please give a special shout-out to you writing the old record player in? I don't know what I was thinking but I never thought about the presence of an old record player in our universe and, well, it's the thing I've (or we've) been missing all this time!!

The two paragraphs are ✨ incomparable ✨ — I just...I have no words...if I hadn't melted by the time I reached the last two paragraphs, I would definitely have melted at this point. (I mean, I already melted by the time I reached the last two paragraphs so technically, I melted even more at this point if that's even possible.) They are just...they made me so soft, so full of longing and love for him 🥺

"In your own universe."

There could have been no other concluding line, I love this line 🥰

The moodboard, as the story itself, is simply perfection. It is so us. Thank you once again for your message, the story, and the moodboard, Sue. I really love them and I really appreciate you 💖💖

As I am replying to your ask in 2022, I wish you a happy new year 🎉🎉 May the New Year bless you with happiness, health, and success in all that you do. Please take care 💕💕

Love,

Autumn