#I think the idea that Soda really hates himself but is aware of the way ppl look at him has lots of potential

[jamandjazz]

And what if I said Soda could be ace and only sleeps with ppl bc it feels like the only way anyone could ever love him and he needs that validation???

[dearggntlereader]

Could you write chubby!yn x mattheo riddle, and she's really insecure about her body and always tries to hide it? Thank you so muchhhh❤❤❤

Picture does not represent the reader's looks!!!

Warnings: mention of sex, cursing, angst

Feelings . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

It’s late and you should really be at your apartment or else you might give Mattheo the wrong idea. You don’t want him to think you two will have sex tonight, don’t want to lead him on. 

Especially with his hand loosely around your waist, drawing circles again and again.

His Hand is big and rough where it slides up and down your side. When you were playing with his Hand earlier you were wondering what it would feel like on you and you can confirm that it’s amazing.

He’s amazing.

You long stopped watching whatever Sitcom you ended up putting on and let your mind wander to the best ways to get away without making him think you hate him. You truly don’t. How could you, he’s smart, funny and insanely gorgeous.

The problem is that your oversized Sweater isn’t hiding anything if you’re pulled against him. He must be aware that you aren’t the perfect skinny girl, he has seen you in somewhat tight clothing and even if he didn’t there is only so much you can hide with clothing.

Still, no reason to remind him of that.

His warm Lips kiss the top of your head and suddenly there’s a whole other problem. You don’t want to leave. You want him to kiss and hug you forever, but guys rarely do. It’s already a wonder that he’s taken so much time for you, instead of using you to get off or some sort of practice for another girl.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, a smile evident from the tone of his voice and when you look up your suspicion is confirmed.

Heat rises to your cheeks at the Nickname.

How the fuck did you manage to get the scary guy with piercing eyes and a sharp, arrogant smirk to call you ‘pretty girl’ and most importantly why? Why is he being so nice?

He squeezes your waist to prompt you to answer and you do, quietly. “Nothing, just thinking.”

The light laugh that leaves him as he stares down at your rosy face feels like a soft hug. “Yeah, but what about?”

“Oh, just-. I’m just zoning out, I guess.”

“You guess?” He’s teasing you now, you can tell by the glimpse in his eye.

You roll your eyes and avert your eyes from the slight smirk in front of you. Merlin, he’s so infuriating. 

“Shut it or I won’t finish the Episode with you,” you tease back with a laugh that sits heavy in your stomach.

It’s a test, really. To see how he responds to the idea of you leaving, maybe he wants you to.

Something switches in his eyes for not even a second before he squints at you in a way that makes you want to kiss him breathless. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Apparently he’s had enough of your teasing because he quickly and effectively shuts you up by leaning in to kiss you. It’s not urgent or fast, just sweet. He tastes like cigarettes and the mango soda you two shared earlier.

When he pulls you onto his Lap you yelp and grab onto his shoulder. Mattheo takes that as an opportunity to let his tongue into the mix. 

The way he holds your waist is so incredibly loving in a way you can’t explain that a hole forms in your stomach. You want to cry from all his loveliness. The way he asks you questions and holds you and kisses you and does it all with warm eyes and sharp features.

You break away from him in a haste and try to suppress the tears. It’s all too lovely and you won’t risk losing it.

So, instead of giving him a chance to be disappointed you press out a timid “I have to go” and stand up from his Lap.

You don’t look at him and basically run out of his Apartment, quickly grabbing your purse and mumbling “goodbye.” without sparing another look at him.

If you did, you would’ve seen pure confusion turning into disappointment and then Anger. Anger, at himself.

He has no idea that you leaving didn’t mean that he did anything wrong. Is he that bad of a kisser?

[hollymartinswrites]

Say Hi by HollyMartins

[ao3]

Summary:

In the mall food court, Lee Russell bumps into someone from his very recent past.

TW: Lee Russell comments on teen's weight because of course he would.

Notes:

So I’m on a Walton Goggins kick because of Fallout and I binged Vice Principals, not expecting for the amoral, selfish, dishonest, evil, sometimes arsonist that is Lee Russell to worm his way into my heart.

I don’t condone any of his actions but man, do I enjoy watching him do them. And I can’t believe there isn’t more fic about this show. Maybe the Ghoulggins renaissance will help.

Anyway, the Spring Break episode broke me when Janelle called him Uncle Lee and he gave her a kiss and said it was so good to see her. Was he lying? Probably. Do I like to believe he had a genuine soft spot for her because of Neal? Yes. Did I expect Lee Russell to be the catalyst out of my writing slump of nearly two years? No way in hell.

And now with new edits.

"Uncle Lee!"

Lee freezes, his good hand clenching around the styrofoam cup of diet soda. Thank God he had left his table of coworkers early and is now mercifully alone.

A hand touches his arm and he flinches but forces a smile as Janelle steps in front of him.

"I thought it was you," she says breathlessly, smiling.

"It's me, sweetheart," he replies, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue like it used to. He stops himself from hugging her, however. "Look at you. Looks like you finally did lose some weight."

Janelle rolls her eyes before observing, "I haven't seen you in forever."

Lee swallows. Maybe she doesn't know. Maybe she thinks he and her dad are still the best of friends and they regularly meet to bullshit and laugh and get on each other's fucking nerves.

"I've been busy," he lies. "What with the physical therapy, and now this promotion. Being a regional manager is just as hard as being a principal. I don't know who are bigger pieces of shit, high school students, customers, or corporate."

Janelle glances down at his gloved hand and he frowns.

"But do you like your job?" she asks instead.

"Course I do. I finally have a nice discount on shit I actually want to buy. You know how much I hated going to Staples."

Janelle smiles tightly and goes quiet, both very much aware that Lee has never stepped foot inside a Staples in his life. He hopes a friend of hers will pop up and whisk her away to Spencer's or Claire's or wherever the fuck teenage girls hang out in at a mall. But as the silence stretches towards awkwardness, he has no choice but to clear his throat.

"So, how's school?"

Fuck.

Janelle shrugs.

"It's okay," she admits. "The teachers aren't bad and I made some new friends. Wish Dad was still there, though."

Something in Lee's chest twists and he looks down at the sticky, outdated, and frankly ugly as shit tiles of the food court.

"Wish you were there, too."

Lee's head snaps up so fast he knows he'll have to make another visit to his acupuncturist soon. That twisty feeling in his chest tightens as he sees the wistful look on Janelle's face. He tries to offer a smile again but it feels uncomfortable on his face. Fuck. He used to be good at bullshit.

"You wouldn't want that," he insists. "Wouldn't want the other students being judgy pricks because you have an in with the principals, right?"

Janelle shrugs again. Lee has never been one for comforting but he feels a need to put his arm around her. He very nearly does until he remembers he's still holding a half-empty cup of tepid soda. And he's not about to bring his fucked up arm near her. Later, he'll wonder if this was one of those profound moments in a teenager's life where they could really use some guidance or understanding or even just some fucking acknowledgement. He has no idea because all he can bring himself to do is offer her his discount anytime she comes into his store. At this, she actually laughs.

"No offense, Uncle Lee," she says, wrinkling her nose, "but your store isn't really my style."

"Oh, and this is?" he asks, motioning at her outfit with the soda. She laughs again. Lee relaxes. This is easy. This is familiar. "What'd you do, go dumpster diving at Goodwill?"

Janelle just shakes her head and rolls her eyes again, a smirk on her face. At least she gets his sense of humor. Suddenly, a voice calls her name and Lee turns to see three teenage girls heading their way. Thank God.

"I gotta go," she says. "We gotta catch a movie."

"Alright," he says and steps out of her way, allowing her to walk past him.

"See ya," she says over her shoulder. "I'll tell Dad you said hi."

"Yeah," Lee sighs as she rushes towards her friends. "Yeah, you tell him."

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part

[sunjaesol]

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother. 

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue. 

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them. 

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke… 

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside. 

'Hey!' 

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes. 

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?' 

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest. 

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right? 

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully. 

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so. 

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?' 

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away. 

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs. 

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs. 

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence. 

'The fuck are you doing?' 

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair. 

Luke stammered. 'Uh…' 

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?' 

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand. 

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable. 

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked. 

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her. 

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!' 

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused. 

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something. 

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!' 

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now. 

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense. 

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her. 

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.  

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke. 

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. “Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it. 

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.) 

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.       

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-' 

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty. 

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either. 

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans. 

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple? 

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.   

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough. 

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.  

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too. 

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was. 

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science. 

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her. 

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile. 

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said: 

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island. 

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally. 

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back. 

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.        

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there. 

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong. 

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!) 

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside. 

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?' 

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-' 

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!' 

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted. 

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?' 

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-' 

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening? 

'Did you just-', he croaked. 

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?' 

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina. 

'You didn't think I might like you back?' 

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out? 

'Can we try that again?', he breathed. 

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once. 

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips. 

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.' 

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two. 

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched. 

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker. 

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice. 

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!  

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here? 

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both. 

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her. 

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again. 

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.  

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.  

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Dreams

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1855

Content warnings - lots of fluff and comfort, platonic relationship

Prompt/Inspiration - Mammon has a nightmare and MC comforts him

Summary - Mammon is forced to sit through another horror movie with his brothers, and you decide to go check on him once he’s gone to bed.

AO3

You didn’t know how it happened exactly, but somehow movie night had turned into “let’s see how many times we can make Mammon jump before he pisses himself.” Since you had been helping Beel gather snacks (someone has to make sure he didn’t eat them before he even left the kitchen), you weren’t involved in the movie selection process. You had already told everyone you had no preference, so they didn’t wait for you to return.

As soon as you took your seat between Mammon and Beel though, you started to suspect something. Mammon was flinching at every little thing - from the sound of your can of soda opening to the sound of Beel opening a bag of chips. You tried to ask him what was wrong, but he said it was nothing. That you didn’t need to worry. And since the movie was now starting, all you could do was watch him skeptically out of the corner of your eye.

About 10 minutes in, the first jump scare occurred, and you heard Mammon muttering obscenities under his breath. It didn’t seem that scary to you, so you were about to just let it go, when the next scare happened and he almost spilled your drink with how hard he jerked into you. You thought about suggesting that they change the movie, saying you didn’t like it, but Levi already knew just how much you loved horror movies and was sure to call you out on it. And seeing as Mammon was trying so desperately to contain just how freaked out he was, you didn’t want to draw anymore attention to him and make him feel even worse.

So you decided the best course of action was for you to just snuggle up to him and hold his hand. There were several times you thought for sure he was going to crush your own with how tightly he was gripping you, but somehow you managed to make it through the entire movie with all your limbs and digits still attached and in working order. When you finally stood up to stretch, you got a good look at Mammon. Poor boy was white as a sheet (which is saying something with his dark skin tone), and made a hasty retreat as soon as possible to his own room, his brothers snickering as they watched him go.

“Y’all really can be assholes, you know that?” you said, sending a glare towards Asmodeus, who you were sure suggested the movie in the first place.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he replied, smiling innocently at you. You rolled your eyes at his mock confusion. He knew exactly what he did. Just like the rest of them.

As you walked towards your room, you thought about stopping by Mammon’s to check on him, but decided better of it, and opted to  text him first instead.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

“Fine. Just fine. Already in bed. Goodnight.”

Well that was odd, you thought. Usually he was more chatty with you. The other times he had been tricked into watching horror movies with his brothers, he usually made up some lame excuse as to why he was going to spend the night in your room, “in case you got scared”. But tonight, he didn’t and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

————

Mammon collapsed on his bed as soon as he got to his room, not even bothering to lock the door behind him or remove his clothes. He was absolutely exhausted at this point. Watching those shitty movies with his brothers always drained the life out of him. He had to concentrate so hard just to stop from humiliating himself and giving them something else to mock him for for the next century.

And tonight’s movie seemed to be the worst one yet. He seriously had to wonder what dark pit of hell the director must have crawled out from to make such a twisted movie. No one else seemed to mind it though. Even you, the weak, fragile human, were enjoying yourself. But he had been too nervous to even register the fact you spent the entire movie pressed up against him, as he squeezed your hand for support.

Part of him really appreciated having you there, but another part of him absolutely hated it. It was bad enough when he got spooked during the other movies they had watched together before, but just the thought of you bearing witness to his shame this time was almost enough to make him cry. Why couldn’t he pull himself together? You’d think the fact that he had resided in the Devildom - literal hell - for over a millennia would be enough to desensitize him to such things.

He flopped over on his back, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he should just go to bed now or give up on sleeping tonight altogether. When suddenly a loud “DING” echoed through his room, causing him to practically throw himself out of bed as he struggled to figure out what the hell that sound was.

Oh.

It was his DDD.

You had just texted him.

Mammon sighed in relief, before feeling utterly embarrassed at his own reaction and simultaneously grateful that no one else was around to see it. When Mammon opened his messaging app, he saw that you were just checking up on him, and his heart warmed a little knowing you were thinking of him. But he also knew he was in no shape to see you right now because he’d surely only add to his embarrassment. So even though the idea of spending the night with you sounded really enticing, he decided to tell you he was fine.

After sending the text, Mammon crawled his way under his covers. He thought briefly about turning the lights off, but quickly decided that would be a horrible idea. He’d just have to sleep with the lights on tonight and hope no one walked by his door and took notice.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“MOTHERFKERRR….!” Mammon yelped, sitting bolt upright as he tried to calm his pounding heart.

“Mammon? It’s me.”

For the love of….it was just you. Not his brothers. Not the vengeful shadow lady murder spirit from the movie. Just you.

“Yeah?”, he said as he tried his best to keep his voice calm and even.

“Hey,” you opened the door and let yourself inside. You immediately noticed that the lights were still on, which honestly didn’t surprise you even though Mammon had told you he was going to bed. The second thing you noticed was that Mammon was sitting in his bed fully dressed, with a death grip on his blanket while he watched you enter his room, having changed into your pajamas. Looks like you had made a good decision to come.

“I was wondering if I could sleep here tonight?”

“Huh? Why ya wanna do that for?”, he asked. He had thought for sure you enjoyed the movie, so it shouldn’t be because you were scared, right?

“Just feeling a little uneasy you know. My imagination can get the better of me sometimes. So I thought I’d sleep better with you.”

“Um yeah. Sure. I’ll look after ya,” Mammon replied.

“Can I turn the lights off?”, you asked. Mammon nodded with a grunt, so you flipped the switch and headed towards his bed, using the light from your DDD to guide you so you didn’t trip over all the junk scattered on his floor. He didn’t really want the lights off, but he didn’t exactly want to say that either, so he convinced himself it would be ok since you were here now.

As you settled down beside him, Mammon started to relax as well. It didn’t take him long at all to realize that you were just fine and only giving him an excuse to not sleep alone, without him needing to do it himself. He smiled to himself as he rolled on his side and felt you rest your head against his back.

“Goodnight, Mammon.”

“G’night.”

————

After only a few hours of sleep, you were awoken by the movement next to you. Mammon was now on his back, hands gripping at his blanket, as he occasionally kicked his legs or jerked his head like he was running from something, trying to escape.

Realizing he was having a nightmare, you sat up and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a firm shake, “Mammon. Wake up,” he didn’t respond, so you raised your voice just a little louder and shook him again, “Mammon. MAMMON.”

Suddenly his eyes flew open, while he gasped for breath, his thoughts still frantic and confused. As he gradually became more fully aware of his surroundings, he noticed you were propped up on your elbow next to him with your hand on his chest. Wanting to make sure you were really there, he grabbed your wrist.

As soon as he felt the warmth of your skin in his hand, tears started pouring down his face from relief. You were here. You were safe. He didn’t remember why he felt it so important to check just then. His memory of his dream was already fuzzy and quickly disappearing. But that didn’t stop him from still feeling those lingering emotions of terror and loss.

“Hey, Mammon. What’s wrong?”, you asked. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of his room by now and you could see how hard he was crying. Not only that but you felt his hand shaking as it gripped your wrist. Whatever he had been dreaming about clearly left him terrified.

All he could do in response was shake his head, trying to reassure you that he was fine and it was nothing to worry about, but his words were caught in his throat and the tears just wouldn’t stop. Seeing that Mammon wasn’t going to be talking anytime soon, you leaned over and wrapped him up in your arms, a gesture he was all too happy to return as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You held him like that for a few moments, rubbing his back and soothing him. After a while his erratic breathing began to calm, so you carefully laid back down on the bed, holding him close to you so that he was mostly on top of you by the time you had gotten comfortable.

“It’s ok. It was just a dream, Mammon. Just a dream.”

As his panic subsided, Mammon adjusted his position slightly so that his head was more on your chest and shoulder. He could hear your heartbeat better this way, and he closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar, comforting sound. Yeah it was just a dream. You were here. You were safe. It was just a dream.

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you continued to hold him close as he tightened his arms around your waist. Snuggled together, it wasn’t long before the two of you drifted off to sleep. And this time, Mammon’s dreams were much more peaceful.

[10moonymhrivertam]

Buffy/Witcher fic fragment

“Julian, duck!” The voice is a little shrill and definitely frantic. Jaskier’s still reeling from the portal, but something about the words has his hand shooting out to drag Geralt down with him. Something flies over their heads, and he looks up to see a headless body crumbling into dust. Which he hasn’t seen anything do in a very, very long time. He tenses at running footsteps, and he has a dagger in hand based sheerly on how frayed his nerves are. The girl standing over them is in jeans and a t-shirt, and he hasn’t seen the combination in decades.

“It is you! Everyone’s going to flip. It’s been years, I’m pretty sure they thought you were dead, especially since nobody really did magic yet when you went missing.” The girl has a hand out, and Jaskier stares at it, his brain buffering. Eventually, he realizes why. He’d gotten a spell to help him learn the most common language on the Continent when he’d arrived there, and now his brain is scrambling to parse English for the first time in twenty years.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks, the words wrapping strangely around his tongue. The girl frowns, her face scrunching into an expression that rings a bell deep in his memory. He’d had a friend that made a face like that...

“Right. The spell. You were gone.” Her hand still hangs in the air between them. “I’m Dawn Summers. I can take you to Giles, if you want.”

Jaskier eyes her for another moment before accepting the hand and then turning to help Geralt up. He doesn’t refuse the help, but there’s something tight in his face that says he doesn’t trust conversations he didn’t understand being had over his head.

“She knows someone that might know something,” he says to Geralt. Geralt grunts, his eyes darting from grave to grave. Jaskier suppresses a sigh and turns back to Dawn.

“Lead the way, Miss Summers.” Her face does something strange, but without a word, she turns on her heel and heads for the gate of the cemetery with unerring accuracy. Geralt’s stony silence felt significant, but every time Jaskier thought of something to say, all he could think was how Geralt was going to tear him apart for this pile of shit later when Jaskier wasn’t the only translator around. Another voice speaking English stopped his anxiety from ratcheting higher.

“Dawn, all I want to know is how I didn’t see you go.”

“I literally just waited until you stopped asking me questions while you were reading. But look, I survived!” Her voice is as bright as the sun. “Also, I found something!”

“You found something?” It wouldn’t have been easy to miss the skepticism in his voice even if Jaskier didn’t already know him. Dawn looks back, drawing Giles’s eye. Jaskier waves awkwardly, suddenly aware of just how much distance time has put between them.

“Julian?”

“Giles. It’s been...a while, for me.”

“It hardly looks like it.” Jaskier recognizes the look from seeing one like it on Geralt’s face more than he remembers it on Giles’s.

“I think that first portal did something to the way I age. Do you want to not-invite us back somewhere?” Which clears up a little bit of the look on Giles’s face, at least.

“I suppose there is an anniversary pizza party which can use a few more guests.”

“Oh, yeah!” Dawn grinned. “You haven’t met Tara yet! Oh, and, um - who are you? Sorry.” Jaskier looked back at Geralt - for a split second, he was waiting for Geralt to answer, then remembered.

“Geralt, this is Dawn and Giles. Giles, Dawn; Geralt. Language barrier.” Geralt had figured that much out already, so he didn’t feel the need to repeat himself.

“Sounded Polish.” Giles said a string of something which almost sounded like a greeting, but made Jaskier make a face. The easiest explanation was just that his accent was incomprehensible, but - then he remembered that they’d hopped from the thirteenth century to the twentieth.

“I’ll look into it,” Jaskier said in very firm English. Giles winced, and Jaskier felt bad for a moment. They quickly got on their way, and silence reigned. Jaskier hated the thick tension in the air, so with a mental fuck-it, he started speaking.

“Say something,” he pleaded with Geralt. “Anything. Three words or less?” The prompt usually worked when all else failed, but then - that had been before that awful dragon hunt half a year ago.

“Apologies are difficult.” The words came slowly, and Geralt looked pained. Jaskier didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Geralt eyed him for a moment before dropping his eyes to the sidewalk. “Harder now that I’m confused. And you’re the only one that knows what’s going on.”

Jaskier bit his lip, processing that. Geralt wanted to apologize, before they were portalled into Sunnydale. That was...a lot.

“This is...” Jaskier trailed off. “It’s where I’m from.” He looked away from Geralt. “A few years before we met, a portal took me from here and dropped me on the Continent. There was a mage that was so frustrated with my charades that she just slapped a translation spell on me. I’m just lucky the mechanics of it mean I can be a great bard. I can still tell the languages are separate, they still feel different, but I just - understand them.” He tapped his temple.

“This is where you’re from?” Geralt repeated. Jaskier looked over to see his eyes roaming from the sidewalk to the road to the power lines.

“It’s got monsters, too, but no witchers. Got something else, though. Oh, and it’s the twentieth century. Twenty-first, maybe, depending how long I was gone. It was the 90’s.”

“You know them?”

“The man. The girl said something about a spell, but...I don’t know what she means. Hold on. Miss Summers, what was that you said before about a spell?”

“Oh, yes, you were gone.” Hearing Giles say the same thing was a point in her favor. “It’s...rather complicated. There was memory alteration involved.”

“So I forgot you?” Jaskier couldn’t help but be a little upset by the idea.

“Wrong way around,” Dawn said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “We probably should wait until we get back, and then everyone else can tell you the way they remember things. It might be kind of neat to see how you tell things.”

“Alright, then.” Jaskier flashed them a disarming smile before turning his attention back to Geralt and shrugging. Geralt hummed and fell quiet again. Jaskier did the same despite himself, at least until the girl drifted back towards them.

[disappearance somewhere mid-s3; this is set in an ambiguous post-s5 everyone-is-happy-fuck-you]

“Is that a guitar?”

“A lute. Learning it was a little different. The tuning’s a bitch.” Giles shot him a look over his shoulder, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. “This is a special one. I got it from the king of the elves.”

Dawn’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, Bilbo.”

“Hey, no, they’re real on the Continent!” Jasker protested. He outlined what history he’d learned at Oxenfurt for her, and by the time he was coming to the end of his impromptu lecture, they were outside a house he recognized, just barely. Giles was first through the door, tossing out a greeting to get a chorus of voices in return. Dawn followed. Jaskier hesitated just one moment. His high school friends seemed to be in there. He hadn’t seen them in going on thirty years. Nonetheless, if he didn’t go, Giles wouldn’t trust him, and he didn’t have any chance of either settling in here or finding his way home. So he forged ahead, hanging onto Geralt’s sleeve. He crossed the threshold without a lick of trouble, and Geralt shadowed him silently.

“Who’s that?” That was Joyce’s voice, he thought.

“We found them in the cemetery!” Dawn said, far too cheerfully. “But we didn’t invite them in,” she added quickly. “You heard!”

“We heard.” That was another familiar one. A few moments later, one of his old friends was in the doorway. “...Julian?”

There was a chorus of ‘what’s, and suddenly it seemed like the entirety of whatever party they were having was in the doorway. Before he’d quite processed it all, Xander had drawn him into a hell of a hug.

“Lute!” He protested, squirming out of the hug. He took off his case and floundered for a place to set it. Geralt gently removed it from his hands and nodded back to the others. Jaskier flashed him a quick, warm smile, then turned his attention back to distributing hugs.

“It’s been a while,” he offered when they’d had their fill.

“How are you not dead?” Xander asked, earning an elbow in the side from Willow. He winced and pouted at her. 

“There was a portal. Which did do something strange to my aging, I’ll admit.”

“You barely look older than me,” Dawn observed, which didn’t help Jaskier as much as it ought to.

“Well, that’s flattering.”

“Why, how old are you?” Buffy asked.

“Coming up on forty-three.” Geralt tensed at the various ‘bullshit’s that rose up. Jaskier flashed him a smile to reassure him. “I’d offer to prove it, but all I have is Geralt’s word, and he never even argued with Yennefer about those crow’s feet jokes, so I don’t know if he noticed.”

“Oh, what are we all standing around the hall for?” Joyce tittered. “Come on, come sit. There’s pizza; soda; some wine.”

“Ooh, they’ve got wine, Geralt!” Geralt hummed. Still holding Jaskier’s lute with something like reverence, he followed Jaskier. At least until Jaskier stopped dead in the door, his eyes narrowing at the man with bleach-blond hair in the middle of what sounded like a pop culture argument with a woman who hadn’t come to greet him. 

“You have more to catch me up on, right now,” he said lowly. Spike looked over and his eyebrows shot up. 

“Pretty boy. Thought you were dead. Nice going on the still being here.” Spike made a vague gesture of congratulations and then turned back to his partner, but she was squinting at Jaskier like she knew him.

“There was a thing,” Dawn answered, dropping onto the couch. “An organizationy thing. Now he basically has a taser in his brain so he can’t eat people. He doesn’t have a soul but he’s still okay.”

“Watch yourself, little bit.” Spike waved a threatening finger at her, and Jaskier nearly leapt forward with his dagger, clear invitation be damned. A hand landed on his shoulder. He tensed and nearly whipped around. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled in his ear. “What’s going on?”

“When I left, that bastard was out to kill us.”

“And now?”

Jaskier huffed angrily through his nose. “He’s been invited to the party.”

“Treat him like he’s Valdo Marx, then.”

“Not fucking well helpful, Geralt, someday I’ll murder that little shit, I really will.”

“You’re Jaskier and Geralt of Rivia!” The accusation was sudden, giddy, and in the language Jaskier was used to hearing. He and Geralt turned as one to look at Spike’s conversation partner. Jaskier distantly noticed he was staring at her, too, though in a more ‘what the fuck’ way.

“And who would you be, madam?” The flirty, pleased smile touched easily on Jaskier’s face. Xander’s eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, when I went there, I usually went as Anyanka.”

“Anyanka...that’s familiar.”

“It had better be. I had at least three separate summons that stopped me and Hallie having days out because of you.”

“Summons?” Most of Jaskier’s excitement had dropped away.

“I was a demon zemsty.”

“Shit.” Jaskier could feel himself go pale. He could feel Geralt at his back, but couldn’t tell if he was angry or smug or indifferent. 

“But I’m not stupid. Witchers are almost as infamous as Slayers, and you’re the White Wolf’s bard.”

“Slayers?” Geralt asked. 

“It’s what I told you we have instead of Witchers. Except there’s only one, and she’s always a girl.”

“Seems like a lot of responsibility for one person,” he remarked. 

“Which is why Buffy has everyone.” Jaskier made a gesture encompassing the room. “And hasn’t died yet. No, wait, Kendra was Called. Well, she’s never died properly.”

[kindajared]

CAT BOY JOHNNY

Hello! yes...this is 3k+ words because I got carried away...NSFW BABEY 18+ IM LOVE HIM YOU G U Y S (Looks like I’m big dumbass and didn’t incorperate his handicap and I hate myself, but please enjoy anyway)

You were nervous, really nervous. Your friends pressured you into doing this and you couldn’t refuse them…you were weak when it came to these things; anything for your friends. Jeez, so much for having a strong will. But how could you refuse something like this? It would be a new experience and you supposed you didn’t mind, but God, you were nervous.

A Catboy…it was hard to say it aloud. The only reason you even thought this would be a good idea was because your friend had one, Gyro, and he was absolutely lovely. They wanted you to get this one in particular because he and Gyro were close or had been before he was taken from him. They couldn’t live without each other, yet your friend only had the means for one…So, this was perfect. They could see each other whenever the wanted.

This one’s name was Johnny. He had had soft blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair and was thinthin. He was absolutely adorable and you were happy to take him in. One thing you weren’t aware of, was his personality…which was something that largely contributed to your nervousness.

--

You were driving back to your apartment with him in the passenger seat, his arms crossed and looking out the window. You glanced over at him now and again, hoping he would speak up rather than you. You sighed.

“Are you exited to see Gyro?”

You asked with a small smile, watching the road. Johnny’s ear perked up slightly from under his beanie and his attention turned to you, tail exposed. He gave a nod.

“More than anything.”

He replied. Your smile only grew. So this wasn’t so bad for him, you were glad. You had a little more to say.

“I just hope this doesn’t feel traumatic for you. Does it?”

You asked with a glance. You heard him shift in his seat and he shook his head quickly.

“I knew it was going to happen eventually. I’ll be fine.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. Good. This was good. You thought to yourself before you arrived back at your apartment just minutes later.

You went to open the car door for him, but he got out himself, hunched over like a moping child. You took a breath in before you walked up the concrete stairs to your apartment, him following close behind.

You both entered after unlocking the door, both nonchalantly kicking of your shoes before closing the door. You noticed Johnny sniffing the air. You lifted your brows.

“Smell okay?”

You asked him, hoping for the answer you desired.

“Mhm. I think it’s safe to say it smells good actually.”

He finally cracked a smile and you felt your heart could sing. You walked forward then, setting your bag and keys down on the entryway table. You let out a happy hum.

“Here, follow me.”

You motioned for Johnny to follow you and he did, both just steps from the living room. You held your arms out towards the simplistic living room; couch, coffee table and a television, your laptop and a book laying out. Johnny looked it over.

“Not much, I know, but it’s cozy enough. I hope it works for you.”

You looked at him and he nodded.

“I like it.”

You smiled once more, walking towards your next stop, the kitchen. It wasn’t big. Enough for two people to stand in. Fridge with a freezer, sink, stove and a microwave and a few cabinets and drawers.

“I don’t always have much, but I stocked up. I don’t know what you like, so I got a lot of different things.”

You spoke before you heard breathing in your ear, sniffing. You turned to see that Johnny was smelling you, reaching up to touch your hair. You swallowed, not knowing what to do or say. You just assumed this was some sort of greeting, maybe even a sign of affection? You could only hope so.

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll like it all. I honestly didn’t expect you to be so nice. I think I might like it here.”

He spoke softly and you couldn’t help but blush.

“You think? That’s great!”

You were getting exited and Johnny could clearly tell, smile back on his face You couldn’t help but relish looking into his blue eyes, they were so gentle. You cleared your throat and walked past him, showing him the decent sized bathroom before the bedroom, which you had the decency to clean for him, making the bed and all. You opened the door to reveal a queen-sized bed, small closet, vanity and a laundry basket. Johnny looked it all over, walking forward to sit on the bed, patting it.

“I like it- I really like it.”

He gave his approval, and you couldn’t help but clap your hands together.

“Oh, that’s great, Johnny!”

You could squeal then, but you held that back. You then put your hands back down at your sides.

“Are you hungry?”

You asked him. You knew for a fact that he didn’t eat kibble or lap up water with his tongue, so you assumed he ate like anyone else. He replied.

“Starving.”

You put a finger to your chin and looked down momentarily before looking back up with an idea.

“Pizza?”

You offered. Johnny lifted a brow and you became nervous. Did he not like pizza? He leaned forward.

“You read my mind! How did you know?”

The excitement in his voice was something new. You wear so happy. This would work out, after all. You nodded, backing out of the doorway.

“What kind do you like?”

You asked. He grinned.

“I’ll eat anything. You choose.”

You nearly melted. You nodded and left for the kitchen, calling the local pizza place and ordering plain pepperoni. What could you say? You had simple tastes. You also ordered a sprite, not being able to hold back the temptation for soda.

You went back to the bedroom after ordering to find Johnny cuddled up on the bed with on of your pillows, grabbing and kneading at it. His eyes were closed, and he was smiling. He couldn’t have been more adorable if he tried.

“Pizza’ll be here in a jiff.”

You leaned against the doorway, not being able to help but watch him. He looked up at you then.

“What are you doing?”

His brows were furrowed in some sort of confusion and you widened your eyes. What did you do?”

“Uhhh, I’m sorry, I don’t-.”

“Come here, please.”

His lip was slightly pouted. You immediately went and crawled on the bed, quickly up next to him. He immediately embraced you, nuzzling his face into your neck. You noticed he was purring, and you giggled, reaching up to push his beanie off so that you could scratch behind his ears. He hummed softly and you felt his rough tongue against your neck, making you gasp. He pulled back.

“Is that okay? I can’t help it. It feels so good. No one’s touched me in a long time.”

He sounded worried, as if he did was completely unwanted. You shook your head, placing a hand on the side of his face.

“Don’t be silly. It’s fine. I like how it feels.”

You assured him. He smiled, his soft purr returning as he was quickly back at your neck, licking strips up to your ear. You shuddered at the feeling and Johnny noticed, arm sliding around your waist and pulling you close. You hummed, moving your other hand to scratched under his chin. Johnny sighed and moved his face so that he could press his lips to yours, you made a noise of surprise and he pulled away.

“Something wrong?”

He had that same look of worry. You stumbled over your words.

“No, I, uh...I’m not sure if I want this. I didn’t bring you home for this.”

You told him. He looked away, frowning. He sat up and brought his knees to his chest. Your eyes widened and you sat up with him.

“Johnny, all I mean is…”

You paused, finding your words.

“You don’t have to do all of that. I want to take care of you, that’s all. We don’t have to, you know…”

You explained. He didn’t look back, just buried his face in between his knees and spoke, voice weak.

“You don’t want to?”

He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. You moved up next to him and took ahold of his face, brining it up so that he would look at you.

“I do want to, Johnny. I wasn’t worried about me. I was worried about you. What you wanted.”

You sighed before smiling, hoping he might return it. He blinked.

“So you-?”

Then the doorbell rang before Johnny could finish and you set you pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

“Let’s eat first, okay? I think we’re both hungry. Sound good?”

You asked kindly. He only nodded before you moved off the bed and held out your hand for him to take. When he was up you placed a kiss on his cheek before hurrying to the door. Johnny stood in place momentarily, hand on his cheek, blushing. He smiled to himself before walking out to the living room where you had set everything up for the two of you. He was quick to plop down on the couch, he loved pizza.

The two of you didn’t even use plates when you ate, taking sips of sprite from two different glasses in-between bites, barely making conversation, just making sound of pleasure. You both hadn’t had pizza in a long time.

“This makes me think of Gyro.”

Johnny spoke up after finishing a slice. Your attention turned to him and you finished chewing before replying.

“How about we see him tomorrow? Wanna do that?”

You asked, of course knowing the answer. Johnny nodded excitedly.

“Yes please, (Y/N)!”

He went in to tackle you with a hug, but you blocked him with your knee.

“No way! You’re all greasy!”

You laughed when Johnny pouted, but he was quick to laugh himself.

“Fair enough, I guess.”

He gave up before finishing his drink and sighing, rubbing his stomach.

“Thanks for this. It was awesome, if I do say so myself.”

He thanked you with a nod of his head. He stood up then.

“Can I go shower?”

He asked. You finished your slice and nodded.

“Of course! Everything in there is self-explanatory, so I don’t think you need a manual.”

You told him. He chuckled and nodded.

“Good to know. I’ll be back.”

“Wait!”

You stopped him and he turned around.

“I got you some clothes to sleep in. They should be on my bedside table. Thought I should let you know.”

He chuckled, lifting his shoulder before he just nodded and walked away. You sighed before turning back to finish your drink, proceeding to clean up, extra pizza in the fridge. You listened as the shower ran. You couldn’t help but imagine how Johnny looked…the water running down his back, ears and tail soaking, blond hair smoothed back. It made you bite your lip as you continued to your bedroom.

You proceeded to put on some loose shorts and a long T-Shirt, nothing special. The water had been off in the shower for long enough, so you went and knocked on the door.

“I hope you’re still alive in there.”

The door then opened to reveal Johnny in nothing but a towel. He looked as you imagined but better. You had to keep yourself from staring.

“I-I just gotta brush my teeth. I got a toothbrush for you too.”

You slid by him and retrieved your toothbrush from its place next to the sink, pointing to Johnny’s. You both brushed your teeth together, bumping you hips together now and again, making each other smile. Once you were done you looked at him with a toothy smile.

“Look good?”

You asked. He nodded.

“Those are some pearly white if I’ve ever seen any.”

He complimented. You chuckled before moving past him, butterflies in your stomach. He was too perfect; you couldn’t believe it.

You then slid into bed; nightstand lamp the only think lighting the room. You nearly drifted off to sleep before you felt Johnny slide in behind you, youbbeing on your side.

“You can turn the light off now.”

He told you, and you did as he said, reaching up for it. Johnny was quick to wrap his arms fully around you, pressing his frond up against your back. You felt his breath against the back of your neck, but the smile you had faded when you felt something hard against your back. You swallowed as Johnny began to rub himself up against you, purring  loudly into your ear.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

He replied in a gentle tone.

“You uh-have-.”

He chuckled in reply, pulling you as close as he could. You gasped when his cock fully pressed up against your back.

“I can’t help it. I’ll stop if you want…”

His tone changed to one you had heard before…disappointment. You could practically see his pout without even looking his direction. Even if you were, it was pitch black. You sighed,

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

You just felt you should point it out, though now you felt stupid. Of course, he knew he had a hard on, it was his cock, after all.

You gasped when you felt something phallic slip in between your thighs. You whimpered as it began to slide in and out. Johnny spoke.

“Can I do this? It feels good.”

He asked you, giving the shell of your ear a lick. You arched your back into him and nodded.

“Yeah- Yeah, go ahead.”

You gave him approval and he continued, cock shifting higher and higher until you could feel in against your crotch. You let out a hum and your chest tightened. You could feel yourself quickly getting wet. Johnny was purring and biting at your ear, groping at your breasts. You let out a soft moan.

“Johnny…”

You placed your hand on his, over your chest. Johnny gave your neck a soft nip.

“I want you- I want to be inside you, (Y/N).”

His voice was still so sweet, breath hot. You pressed half of your face into the pillow.

“Another night? Not yet, okay? I’m sorry, just…not yet.”

Johnny whimpered at your answer to his question. Though he had to sigh in acceptance.

“Can I touch you?”

Was his follow up. Your licked your lips and curled your toes, letting out a shaky breath

“I-If you want to, g-go ahead.”

You gripped your pillow. It’ not that you didn’t want him to fuck you, you just felt it wasn’t time; you had just met that day. after all.

You gasped when you felt slim fingers slide into your shorts, bypassing your panties to touch your bare pussy. You squirmed, breathing quickly.

“Shh.”

Johnny hushed you as he slid his finger into your slick folds. He hummed.

“You’re really wet. That from me?”

He asked you. You nodded, whimpering softly.

“Mmm, mhm.”

Was what you managed to reply with. Johnny took ahold of your ear with his theeth and tugged at it as his middle finger began to circle your clit slowly. You sucked in a breath and clenched your jaw. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you like this.

“You’re so cute.”

He did in fact purr as he pressed his finger down, wiggling it. You took your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Mmm, Johnny, that feels-.”

“Good? I could have guessed.”

He knew what you were going to say, but that was no surprise. His ring finger slid down to your entrance and you pressed your ass up against him, making him grunt in pleasure.

“Keep doing that, please.”

He breathed. You began to roll your hips back up against him and he groaned.

“(Y/N..”

He nuzzled is face into your neck as he slid a finger into your hole, eagerly rubbing your slick walls.

“Nnn, Johnny, fuck…”

Your breath hitched. His purring only made this hotter. You could feel his tail wrap around your thigh and you hummed. Johnny slipped another finger into you, surprised you were already ready for it. You grabbed at the sheets, gasping as he pleasured you with his fingers, sliding them in and out at an agonizing pace.

“Johnny please, go fast- I want it faster.”

You practically whined. Johnny did as you asked, fingering you quickly, slipping a third one in for the hell of it. You squirmed up against him, gasping over and over again. You reached behind your own head to tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching the back of his head. He groaned, pressing his lips against your neck for a sloppy kiss before he opened his mouth, sucking and biting to create a mark.

“I-I’m-.”

You could barely speak as he fucked you with his fingers, pressing them against your walls as he hooked them now and again. Your eyes threatened to roll back as he spoke.

“Do it for me. I want to feel you on my fingers.”

He panted into your ear. You sucked in a breath as you felt that familiar white-hot feeling in your core, an amazing stinging feeling. You reached your climax with one last thrust of his fingers, cumming all over them, coating them in their entirety. You panted and shook in the aftershock of your orgasm. You took your hand away from Johnny’s head and were quick to flip yourself over to face him.

“Johnny.”

You spoke his name through challenging breaths.

“Hm?”

He licked at his fingers, sliding them into his mouth and smiling, though you couldn’t quite see. You managed to find his face when you reached for it, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, as you missed your mark. You both laughed softly.

So, this was a Catboy…well, this wasn’t just any Catboy, this was Johnny…and he was perfect in every way. You would care for and love him for as long as you could; he was yours now.

“Hey Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

You spoke.

“You haven’t cum, have you?”

Johnny chuckled.

“Nope.”

You kissed him again, correctly this time.

“Then, I suppose it’s your turn. Is that fair?”

Johnny’s purring returned.

“That’s fair.”

[vickyvicarious]

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

.

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

.

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

.

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about. 

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast  casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

.

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

[shepherds-of-haven]

College!Au of Shepherd members? What likely are they (i.e. jock, player in the soccer team, bad-boy, the clichès.)? definitely not thinking of writing an au, and im certainly not thinking of maybe making a small edit about it. nOt aT aLl cApTAiN

Hi there! Have you seen the college AU asks? This one is pretty detailed about what kind of students they are, and this one is more succinct with their majors/minors! But I’m always happy to go more in-depth about AUs! 😉

In my imagination, Blade, Trouble, and Chase were suite-mates freshman year and get an apartment together when they’re not living on campus. (Halek, Red, and Riel are also roommates and then Riel can’t stand living in a dorm anymore so he buys a townhome with his family’s money and allows Halek and Red to live there to give himself some semblance of a social life.)

Blade is the scion of a very wealthy family who’s expected to take over the family business one day. Instead he majors in Criminal Justice and--in my imagination--secretly aims to become either a detective or a prosecutor because he suspects his family is involved with criminal organizations. He’s generally quiet, solemn, broody, and troubled (just like in the game lol) and is only dragged out to do “normal” college things by Trouble and Chase’s persistence! He’s in the fencing club and also goes to a mixed martial arts gym off-campus, sometimes with Trouble, which also happens to be the one Briony goes to. 

Trouble is in ROTC and majors in mechanical engineering, with dreams of joining the Air Force and becoming a pilot after graduation if he can keep his grades up. For some reason I have this idea that he got into this university on a soccer scholarship? He plays guitar and later gets a dog because fuck it, he’s always wanted one, and he’s rebuilding an old motorcycle in his spare time at this garage where his old school friends work. He definitely wears bomber jackets and letterman jackets like, a lot. He’s very popular and considered a “jock,” but a friendly one! He has an English class with Red and a math class with Riel, going to both of their study groups and then driving them crazy because he either doodles instead of studying or texts. Part-time, I feel like he delivers pizzas for some reason...

Chase is the third part of their trio and is more lax about his studies than the other two (which is a bad influence on Trouble). He does not talk at all about his family or home life and generally spends the holidays with either Blade or Trouble’s families. He’s an undeclared major and has no idea what he wants to do after college and is not worrying about it. He pays smart kids to do his homework for him, so he has an excellent GPA, much to the class president’s (Riel) fury. He’s part of a frat but doesn’t actually drink at parties, more concerned that everyone’s having a good time and making fun memories than he is about himself. He doesn’t allow any scummy behavior in the frat and secretly, on a whim, auditioned for a student play and is surprisingly very into it, to the point where he asks Briony and Trouble for help with his lines. After throwing a huge party where [x] happens, he starts a group chat with everybody involved in this story and it’s sort of how they all become friends, even though many of them already knew each other individually. Oh, and he’s very into Tinder, much to the chagrin of his other two roommates.

I think Briony, Ayla, and Lavinet are also roommates, and so are Shery, Tallys, and Mimir. Briony-Ayla-Lavinet’s place (BAL? Brionaylavi?) is Party Central, whereas Shery-Tallys-Mimir’s place (STM? Shallir?) is Quiet Coffee-Drinking Art Loft Sometimes Hipster Slam Poetry Book Clubs Central. 

Briony is either a journalism student or a law student, I can’t really decide. She takes a lot of extracurriculars at their university as a way to blow off steam, including a painting class (which is where she met Shery) and a horseback riding class, because why not? She has been training at the same mixed martial arts gym since she was a teenager, and she starts bringing Ayla and Lavinet there so they can defend themselves when they’re not altogether. Despite her cheerful attitude and popularity around campus, she seems to be running from a past back in her hometown that she doesn’t talk to anyone about, not even her closest friends: an obsessive ex and a dark past are just some of the things she doesn’t want catching up to her. Sometimes she earns part-time money covering shifts at the cafe Shery works at. 

Ayla is a journalism/communications student who will later switch majors to hospitality and hate it. She gives wilderness tours and white-water-rafting tours in the summers as a seasonal job and plays volleyball on the university team during the spring seasons and track and field during the fall. Her grades are abysmal and she goes to the tutoring center often for help, which is how she meets Red and Riel. She rides a Vespa around town and also attends the yoga class that Tallys teaches. Yes she wears leather jackets and occasionally beanies. She was too cheap to a buy a meal plan at the university cafeteria so she often skims from others or uses their extra meals before the week runs out. She is a lover of junk food and crams their apartment pantry with all manner of chips, soda, ramen, packaged mac and cheese, and etc! She also definitely games. 

Lavinet is a wealthy socialite daughter of the CEO and founder of a huge conglomerate: think a Paris Hilton, but more grounded. She’s majoring in business and political science, being groomed to take over her father’s role, but she wants a taste of “normal” life before that happens. All of her rich friends from high school thinks she’s slumming it with the other kids, but Lavinet’s having the time of her life. She tries not to stand out too much, but she unconsciously does, anyway: wearing designer coats and sunglasses to class, driving a flashy convertible, and keeping her books in a high-end handbag, because backpacks are “schlubby.” She means well but can sometimes be a bit of a drama queen to her roommates. She also loves juicy gossip and eats it up! She has been known to take her roommates’ phones and flirt for them with potential dates. She has a popular vlog and Instagram account, which I imagine is how Briony’s dark past catches up to her. She loves to get coffee at the shop that Shery and sometimes Briony work at and always seems to have a latte in her hand. She can point at any given person and name what lipstick they would be if they were one. She’s fairly good at her studies and loves to be in charge of study groups and gets into a war with another girl who tries to ‘poach’ her study partners. She absolutely takes French and fashion design classes and heads all over campus turn when she walks past!

Red, Riel, and Halek live in what is known as the “Nerd House.” Red is pretty much always at coffee shops and libraries, studying and reading, so much so that he doesn’t notice multiple other students checking him out in his rolled-up sweater sleeves and messenger bag. He’s got a bit of an “Academic Hipster” vibe and definitely has hipster tastes in music and books. He goes to poetry readings at cafes (of which Mimir is a staple) and goes on a lot of first dates that don’t lead anywhere, giving him the reputation of either a really picky person or a playboy. Does he wear glasses? Absolutely. Is it because he needs them? Probably not. On some subconscious level he is probably aware that he looks smart and cute in them. Sometimes he plays pickup soccer with Trouble’s practice team (he played in high school) when he realizes he’s been sitting around too long reading and needs to get some blood pumping! He studies philosophy and history as a double-major. 

Riel is the class president and later valedictorian of their class. He majors in math, business and finance, history, and psychology as one of the university’s only “quadruple majors”. He comes from an extremely wealthy family that has donated so much money to the school that many of the buildings have his last name on them. Occasionally he volunteers at the tutoring center, where his worst and most rebellious student is Ayla, who he vows to break. You can often find him in the music building, reserving one of the practice rooms to play beautiful classical piano, which he doesn’t like to play at home with his roommates around. He abhors eating or studying outside because, mysteriously, every time he walks through the quad, a frisbee hits him in the head. He is the head of a business fraternity that is constantly being pranked by Chase’s frat. 

Halek initially attended their university as a Food Science major, but dropped out and now attends the culinary arts institute across the street. (His twin brother, Naolin, goes to a prestigious university across the country and is studying to become a doctor.) He works as a barista at the cafe where Shery and sometimes Briony work as servers: the one with sleepy eyes that you end up spilling your life story to when you sit at the counter to drink your frappe and study. Plays the drums in a band that performs at open-mic nights and owns a tank of fish. In class he was constantly falling asleep at his desk but has no trouble now. Definitely smokes weed in his room occasionally and has a litany of tattoos up and down his forearms and hands (and for that matter, Ayla does too).

Finally, the Art Loft trio, Tallys, Shery, and Mimir, who definitely have a garden on their roof and hang their clothes up to dry in the sun up there, which Lavinet for whatever reason refers to as their “solarium.”

Tallys is a plant biology major who aims to be recruited into the country’s top holistic/nature-based pharmaceutical company. She teaches yoga outside of class to make money (and Ayla and sometimes Lavinet attend her morning classes). For whatever reason I feel like she smokes and looks really freaking cool doing it but decides to quit after a relative has a cancer scare. She enjoys classical music and plays the violin when she can. She is shares cooking duties with Shery and picks her up from her job at the cafe so she doesn’t have to walk home at night, leading many to mistakenly assume they’re girlfriends. She constantly has AirPods/earphones in, listening to music, and rarely speaks to others outside of class. Strangely, she owns a flip phone and owns no social media. 

Shery is a nursing student who loves to cook and bake as a hobby. She’s a natural introvert and prefers to stay in with her roommates, watching TV while she embroiders, or something, but one day she decides she wants to be more social and that’s how she befriends Halek and Briony. She owns a cat who rules the roost in their apartment as well as a hamster. She keeps detailed diaries and also writes poetry, but is too shy to share it with anyone, including Mimir, her roommate who’s an art major. She always wears pastels and very cute clothing and is a straight-A student. Her parents are pretty stingy so she works at a coffee shop, the Haven, as a way to earn money. She’s also helping with costume design for Chase’s play and rides a bike to campus and to work. She’s close with her professors and often visits them during office hours just to chat.

Mimir is an art student who’s making a big splash in the local scene, as she’s regarded as something of a young genius for her bizarre slam poetry and cryptic, surrealistic paintings. She often does readings at the Haven coffee shop during open-mic nights, and she constantly wears a hoodie, even to class. She paints her nails black and rocks that goth artist aesthetic, complete with dark eye makeup and black lipstick. She rarely speaks, but when she does, it’s usually to say something startlingly-insightful or incredibly mysterious. She feeds birds in the main quad on campus, to the point where they recognize her and will fly to her hand. She smells constantly of incense and can sometimes be seen rummaging around in trash cans on campus for her art installations. There is a mysterious cloaked figure on campus who rides a unicycle while blowing on bagpipes that also spew fire that everyone thinks is her, and she only smiles and fades away when anyone asks. 

[ibijau]

i would give my left arm for a continuation of your sangyao “why do i remember kissing you” scene. PLEASE let meng yao be happy or i’ll cry ;-;

a continuation of this

“That’s the most stupid idea you’ve ever had,” Jiang Cheng said, which is a little harsh, but Nie Huaisang nods and puts the bottle back on the ray. 

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes hard from where he’s leaning on the shopping cart.

“No, grab the fucking vodka, you idiot. I’m not going sober through a party where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are there. But you plan, about Meng Yao? That’s stupid even by your standards.”

Nie Huaisang shudders at the idea of Wei Wuxian flirting with everyone to grab Lan Wangji’s attention, as if he doesn’t have it already, and of Lan Wangji’s cold anger making the temperature drop. When he’s done hooking up with Meng Yao, Nie Huaisang is so taking care of these two, if only so they’ll stop ruining every party.

He grabs two bottles of vodka, and some whiskey too before motioning for them to move to the sodas.

“My plan is excellent, you’re just jealous ChengCheng.”

“It’s terrible,” Jiang Cheng insists, dropping some coke in the cart. “Can’t you just say you like him, like a normal person, ask him out on a date… you know, something normal?”

Trying to decide between two flavours of likely repulsing energy drinks, Nie Huaisang shrugs.

“What would you know about normal.”

“Rude. I’ve probably tried to understand that bullshit more than any of you,” Jiang Cheng snaps, pushing him aside to pick one of the energy drink packs. “And I can tell you this: being straightforward is the best way to go. Or else, you’ll just end up like Wei Wuxian and his walking ice-cube. Talk to Meng Yao, tell him you like his butt or… whatever it is you like about him anyway.”

“The dimples,” Nie Huaisang mutters. “And the fact that he’s my only friend with a brain.”

“Again, fucking rude.”

Nie Huaisang shrugs. He’s aware that actually, most of his friends are probably near geniuses. Wei Wuxian has three degrees and is working on a fourth while also doing volunteer work. Lan Wangji is a music prodigy who’s been doing concerts since he was six along with his brother. Even Jiang Cheng, always accused by his parents of underperforming when they were alive, managed to finish his degree with honours while taking over their business after their untimely death. If anything, Nie Huaisang himself, who’s been lingering in art school and is in no hurry to graduate, is the idiot of the group so he probably shouldn’t make judgements.

But there’s just something about Meng Yao’s sharp mind that sets him aside from everyone else. It’s a practical sort of cleverness which the others lack. Meng Yao always knows how to get the best price on things, he knows which bars are safe and which aren’t at a glance, how to defuse a fight (or start one without getting involved), what to wear on any occasion. It’s like Meng Yao could be thrown into absolutely any situation and always land on his feet, looking like he belongs there and knows exactly what to do.

He’s also normal smart on top of that, which is nice. Nie Huaisang has never found anyone else as excited as him to chat about the pre-raphaelites, not until meeting his brother’s roommate.

“I can’t just tell him I like him,” Nie Huaisang sighs, pushing the cart toward the queue for the cashier. “What if he doesn’t like me back?”

“He does,” Jiang Cheng retorts. “And even if he doesn’t, at least then you’d know and be able to move on. What’s your stupid plan of making out with him for a stupid bet even going to accomplish, uh?”

“It gives me an exit,” Nie Huaisang explains, as if it’s obvious. It certainly is to him. “I get to kiss him, and then if he seems to be having regrets after, I can just say that hey, guess what? It’s fine, it was all fake for money, we can stay friends! It’s a foolproof plan.”

Jiang Cheng considers that for a moment, and grimaces.

“I still think it’s stupid. Just tell him that you like him. If he likes you back, good. If he doesn’t, we have vodka. If he doesn’t like you back and he’s an asshole about it, then he was never worth your attention and I’m sure Lan Wangji will gladly break his nose for making you cry.”

“Not taking romantic advice from the aro guy,” Nie Huaisang replies with a pout. “Just… are you going to place the bet for me or not?”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, and grumbles, and makes a whole damn show of expressing how much he hates the idea, in case it wasn’t clear enough yet, but… of course he agrees to help. That’s just how he is. For all of his advice about just saying things, Jiang Cheng can’t do anything without pretending that he’s forced to act against his better judgement.

-

A number of hours later, Nie Huaisang is standing in his brother’s bathroom, numbly trying to brush his teeth and wondering if Jiang Cheng didn’t have a point yesterday about how stupid his plan is.

Well, no. The plan was great. Nie Huaisang got to make out with the guy of his dreams, first where everyone could see them so he’d get some sweet extra cash, and then after in Meng Yao’s bedroom until they kind of fell asleep. That part of the plan went great.

No, the problem is that Nie Huaisang panicked this morning when Meng Yao asked why they kissed last night. It’s just. It’s just that Meng Yao seemed so shocked by the idea, as if it’s something he’d never have considered while sober, and Nie Huaisang was still a little out of it because he too drank too much and slept too little, so he tried to play it cool, and…

Heavens but the expression on Meng Yao’s face when he said it was just for a bet, the tone of his voice when he asked if he should expect his share of money, that was…

Nie Huaisang sighs, and presses his forehead against the bathroom’s mirror. The glass feels almost too cold against his skin, but that’s nice, that’s grounding. 

Jiang Cheng was right, he should have just told Meng Yao that he likes him instead of trying to be clever. He’s ruined everything now. Whatever Meng Yao felt before, he surely hates him now because if there’s one thing he hates, it’s feeling used by other people. With how many times Meng Yao complained about that aspect of his old friendship with the Wens, back before he moved in with Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang should have known not to pull this sort of bullshit, but…

Well. He’s the idiot in their group of friends, isn’t he?

In the bedroom next door, Nie Huaisang hears movement. Meng Yao seems to be getting up from his bed. Nie Huaisang tenses, fearing that the other man will come talk to him and tell him to get out of the flat… but he doesn’t. Instead, he hears footsteps going toward the kitchen, ignoring him entirely. Maybe it’s worse than being kicked out.

It takes Nie Huaisang a while to calm down, but eventually he makes it to the kitchen too. He’s hoping to grab some water before being ordered to leave. He was supposed to help Meng Yao clean the flat before Nie Mingjue’s return, that was the deal, but he’s not sure Meng Yao will want his company after this. He’s not sure what Meng Yao will want in general.

When Nie Huaisang steps into the kitchen, he finds that what Meng Yao wants, apparently, is breakfast. He’s put water to boil, bread in the toaster, and he’s looking in the fridge for something to put on it.

“Strawberry or apricot?” He asks without turning to look at Nie Huaisang.

“What?”

“Jam, for the toasts. Strawberry or apricot? It’s all we have.”

“Whichever one has no mold on it,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, because he’s been at his brother’s flat for breakfast before, thanks.

Meng Yao checks both containers, and grimaces.

“Strawberry it is. Sit down, it’ll be ready in a moment.”

Nie Huaisang obeys on sheer instinct, carefully watching Meng Yao as he rummages through a cupboard for their box of tea.

“I thought you’d be wanting me gone,” Nie Huaisang says, because he’s really an idiot and can’t keep his mouth shut.

Meng Yao drops the box of tea on the table, and turns away to check on the toasts.

“Not until this flat is clean. I’m not dealing with this mess alone.”

That does sound fair. Nie Huaisang promised to help after all, and he probably deserves to do it as punishment or something. 

They have breakfast in silence, and then get to cleaning, still in silence. After a while, Nie Huaisang starts wishing they had music at least. Not two seconds later, Meng Yao turns on the radio. It’s that classical music station Nie Mingjue likes, because he’s such an old man that he still has a radio and really does listen to that kind of music. They’ve both teased him about it, and as they hear some Bach ring into the quiet flat, Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang can’t help trading a brief smile.

It gives Nie Huaisang some hope. He ruined something last night and this morning, but he didn’t ruin everything.

It takes some hours for the flat to return to its normal state (parties with Wei Wuxian are always a mess) but they manage anyway. When they’re done, Nie Huaisang feels a little calmer. Sure he fucked up, but Meng Yao seems less upset about it now, so they’re probably fine. They can pretend this never happened, and go on with being friends as long as they never talk about this again.

That’d be a good plan.

Instead, Nie Huaisang looks around the now clean flat, and like the complete idiot he is, lets his mouth say words without having his brain check them first.

“So, any chance we might make out again someday?” he asks.

The way Meng Yao tenses instantly and scowls at him is just awful. So much for not ruining everything.

“What, do you need more material for that bet?” Meng Yao snaps. “Is there money on the line if we last more than one night? I’ll want fifty percent of profits then.”

Nie Huaisang winces.

“I’m not asking for that, I swear! It’s…”

He takes a deep breath, wondering how to explain the situation, and then… 

Ah.

He can’t believe he’s about to take the advice Jiang Cheng gave him yesterday. But at this point, he really has nothing left to lose, right?

“A-Yao, I like you a lot,” he sighs. “I really do. I have for a while. The bet was just a good excuse, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while. I think you’re really handsome and clever and I want to go on dates and stuff, I just wasn’t sure you’d want that too so I thought I’d… test the waters, you know?”

The intensity of Meng Yao’s stare is such that Nie Huaisang has to look down. Or maybe it’s just that he’s too embarrassed by his own words to bear to look at Meng Yao’s reaction. Nie Huaisang is never one to be direct if there’s a chance to make things convoluted, and to open up like this and just say things, with his words, that’s just…

“You’re an idiot,” Meng Yao says, his tone so flat it’s impossible to judge how he feels.

“Yeah, I know. Listen, it’s… it’s fine, don’t worry, I’ll show myself out and I won’t bother you again and…”

“I think it’s best if you leave, yes,” Meng Yao agrees. “But be back at six.”

Nie Huaisang’s head snaps up to look at his friend. He didn’t remember that they had plans for that night.

“You’re taking me on a date,” Meng Yao announces. “Somewhere nice, to apologise for being so stupid.”

Nie Huaisang blinks a few times, while Meng Yao smirks.

“Buy me flowers too. Maybe chocolate as well.”

“You’ve watched too many rom-coms,” Nie Huaisang retorts, feeling a smile creep on his face. “You really want to go on a date with me?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean,” Meng Yao says, which is an awful lie as they both know, but Nie Huaisang is willing to pretend, just this once. “Now fuck off, I need to take a nap and shower and get ready for my date.”

Nie Huaisang grins, and almost runs out of the door. It’s almost two, he’s only got a few hours to plan the best date Meng Yao has ever had.

[hermannsthumb]

So I just saw your Halloween prompts! I don't think you've done this one yet so could you do "we hate each other but we were invited to a mutual friend’s party and were warned to be civil so you complimented my costume and fuck you, i haven’t changed yet"?

from halloween prompts here

ok I thought I'd get a little funky with this one and set it within the first year of them getting shoved in the shatterdome together when they’re just total dicks to each other. for reference this is the ABSOLUTE EXACT OUTFIT NEWT IS WEARING!!!!!

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

Newt arrives fashionably late to the party.

Well, it’s more just like late late. His date with a hot ranger hopeful went a little over schedule, so over schedule Newt had to straight-up bail on the guy before they got the check, which he felt bad about, and then he left his phone in the bar and had to double back for it (awkwardly pretending he didn’t notice his date chatting up another guy at the counter), and then he missed his bus and had to hail the most expensive Uber ride of all time, and basically didn’t make it back to base until well after he’d promised to appear with cupcakes. Newt spent a shit-ton of time on those cupcakes and basically sold his soul to get the ingredients for them (rationing, man, it’s killing his amateur baker dreams), so he books it to the break room with the tray without even bothering to change into his costume first. These are more important.

Everything is in full swing when he gets there. The lightbulbs in the overhead lights have been swapped out for purple ones, and the music is pulsing so loud Newt feels it vibrating in his stomach; tacky Halloween garland, most of it homemade, is hung from practically everything; every available surface not cluttered with bottles of cheap booze or chip bowls is cluttered with plastic Jack-O-Lanterns and dripping black candles. In short, it looks pretty fucking fun. Newt squeezes his way through the costumed crowd, rearranges a few candles to carefully slip his cupcakes onto one of the repurposed card tables in a place of honor, and resolves to make himself a drink with the first bottle of something he finds that’s not fruit-flavored—he’s earned it after his shitty night.

There’s a tap at his shoulder before he can make good on his promise to himself of a drink. “Yeah, whatever, I know I’m late, dude,” he shouts over the music. “It’s been a night. I—” He turns. “Oh.”

It’s not Hermann like he (admittedly, foolishly) thought, but rather Tendo, who’s already flushed a bright red, undoubtedly from whatever horrific purple concoction is in his paper cup. Newt wonders if it’s what’s currently foaming in the ominous black cauldron labeled Witch’s Brew next to the cheese dip. He’ll pass, thanks. “It’s about time,” Tendo says. “Gottlieb has been on my ass all fuckin’ night long about where you are. Go find him already.”

“Hermann’s been on your ass about me?” Newt says, eyebrows jumping. Out of everyone in this entire goddamn room—including the janitorial staff, who have had a bone to pick with Newt ever since his ill-advised kaiju eyeball experiment, and resulting explosion, that left the laboratory coated in slime for a week—Hermann is perhaps the very last person he would ever expect to give a shit about his whereabouts. It’s just that Hermann prides himself on not caring about Newt’s personal life, something he takes great care to remind Newt of at every possible opportunity, and Newt would’ve thought he’d have jumped at the chance to enjoy every Newt-free second to the fullest. He should know well enough by now that Hermann manages to find something to complain about in anything. “Why?” he says, and this time, he rolls his eyes. “Did he miss having someone to bitch at? Or bitch about?”

“Easy,” Tendo says warningly. He pokes his finger at Newt’s chest. “Try to keep it civil, boys, okay? I am not having you crush our chances of Pentecost approving a New Year’s bash with a repeat of—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt sighs, waving him off. He doesn’t exactly want a reminder of his and Hermann’s, uh, behavior at the somewhat disastrous Valentine’s Day party, either, or how tense the lab was for weeks following it. Well. Tenser than usual. “I got it. No fights. Where is he?”

“Hiding in that corner,” Tendo says. He gestures with his cup, splashing purple Witch’s Brew all down the front of his dumb greaser costume, and Newt squints where he’s directed; he thinks he can make out pale, sharp cheeks and the flash of a tweed coat. Trust Hermann to wear tweed to a Halloween party. He’s so lame. “Nice pants, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Newt says, distracted, and pushes his way through the crowd.

Newt’s surprised that Hermann even bothered showing up in the first place, and he can’t imagine he’s been very exciting company to anyone all night. The guy hates parties. Sure enough, he’s staring sullenly at his shoes when Newt finally reaches him, back pressed against the wall, soda can gripped so tightly in his free hand Newt can see the aluminum starting to crinkle under his fingertips. Newt doesn’t say hi, just sidles up next to him. Hermann doesn’t seem to notice. “How’s the party?” Newt says.

Hermann’s whole body goes rigid; when he turns to Newt, his lips have curled down into an ugly grimace, like he just ate a whole lemon or maybe caught sight of his tragic hairdo in a mirror. It’s good to see you, too, Hermann, Newt thinks. “Distasteful,” Hermann says. “They haven’t a single decent thing to drink anywhere.”

“Hm,” Newt says. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I heard you were asking about me.”

“Hardly,” Hermann says with a scoff.

“I heard Tendo didn’t get a second alone you were asking about me so much,” Newt says. “What, did you miss me? I bet you just came here tonight to hang out with me, didn’t you? I bet you were all disappointed when I wasn’t here, and…”

“Hardly,” Hermann snaps. Newt grins. “My presence at this party is in no way affected by your own. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You were asking where I was, though,” Newt says.

Hermann’s lips contort again, this time into a thin line, and he turns a glare on Newt—though, Newt notices with a flare of glee, his cheeks have gone a bit pink. “I was aware you had…a date, tonight,” he says, slowly, “and—when you were not back by a reasonable time—well, forgive me for worrying that something may have happened to you.” His soda can begins to bend inward. “I wasn’t fancying the idea of having to tack on all of your work atop mine, is all.”

“Sure,” Newt says. He’d be touched, he thinks, if Hermann wasn’t the worst. “Anyway, look, I promise I’ll stay out of your hair—Tendo told us to behave ourselves. Just wanted to brighten your night real fast.”

Hermann snorts. “He warned me similarly. Well—in the interest of civility, I suppose I should compliment your costume.”

The grin vanishes off Newt’s face. Any feelings of good will towards Hermann—any sentimental feelings of companionability—that have been steadily building vanish with it. “Costume?” he says.

“Yes,” Hermann says. He waves his cane up and down, vaguely, over Newt. “Costume. ‘S better than mine, all I’ve got are some bloody vampire fangs in my pocket I haven’t even bothered to put on. You’re a clown, are you not?”

Briefly, Newt considers upending Hermann’s soda can over his head, or maybe indulging in a repeat of the Valentine’s Day party and using that whole fucking black cauldron. Instead, he just blushes and scowls. “Do you have to be such a jackass all the time?” he snaps. “No, I’m not dressed up like a fucking clown. These are my date clothes. A clown—that’s something coming from you, Doctor Sweatervest, you wouldn’t know fashion if it crawled out of the fucking Breach and stomped on you.”

Hermann looks mortified. Good—he should. “Newton—I didn’t—"

“Have a fun time,” Newt says, and storms off.

The thing about Hermann is that he’s a real square who knows exactly how to get under Newt’s skin, even when he doesn’t mean it; the thing about Newt is that he’s majorly cool and knows exactly how to get under Hermann’s skin, and he almost always means it. Newt thinks, if they were other people, he might consider them Frenemies, but he really can’t imagine a world in which Hermann would ever willingly be his friend, so half of that is a bust. Besides, Hermann’s not really his enemy either. He’s more of a…rival. Though it does complicate things severely when Newt takes into account how bad Hermann wants to get into his pants.

“That’s really great and all,” the guy Newt’s been chatting up by the snack table says, “but I don’t have any idea who you’re talking about.”

“It’s just like,” Newt says, “I know he wants me. I’ve caught him staring at my ass, like, twenty times in the lab. And when the eyeball incident happened—he was way too happy to strip me down for the emergency shower.” The event was very conflicting for Newt, too, to be quite honest, and he still looks back on it (Hermann, shouting at him and calling him an idiot, while ripping off his sizzling clothing) with a mixture of annoyance and arousal. He shrugs. “I just don’t know why he doesn’t admit it to himself. We’d all be happier. Can you believe he said I was dressed like a clown?”

“Uh-huh,” the guy says. “Look, Dr. Geiszler, I’m just trying to get some pretzels.”

“What?” Newt says. “Oh. Sorry. Here—” He uses a plastic spoon to scoop some out onto his new friend’s orange paper plate, and finds himself alone again very swiftly.

It’s not like the clown comment ruined his night or anything. It’s just that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, once, or stop talking about it either, and every time he does, he feels angry and embarrassed all over again, and maybe sort of wants revenge against Hermann for it. He think he might know how to get it, too.

Hermann is lurking in the same place Newt left him, though instead of his soda can, he’s tensely nursing a paper cup. His name is Sharpied across it in his familiar scribble. Newt announces himself by wrapping his fingers around Hermann’s, raising the cup to his lips, and taking a sip. (It’s more soda.) “Hey, Hermann,” he says.

Hermann stares at him blankly; a familiar blush is making its way back to his cheeks. “Ah,” he says. “Hello.”

“What’s up?” Newt says. He scoots in next to Hermann until their shoulders touch; then, for good measure, he brushes his hand over the one Hermann has clenched firmly on his cane. He feels Hermann shiver. “You having fun?”

“Not—” Hermann clears his throat. He’s looking down at their hands. “Er. Not particularly.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Newt says, and (this time, settling his hand on top of Hermann’s) adds in a low voice, “I bet I could make it more exciting.”

The revenge plan was pretty simple. Preying upon Hermann’s obvious feelings for him, Newt would seduce him, get halfway through makeouts in some secluded hallway, and then pull away and be like just kidding! You suck!, announce he was going to find the sexy ranger he had a date with tonight who was totally into him, and go enjoy the rest of the party while Hermann—well, moped, Newt guessed. At least understood how Newt felt earlier. Except once they actually start making out, Newt realizes that’s kind of fucked up of him, and if Hermann tried the reverse (not that Newt has feelings for Hermann, obviously, but like—hypothetically), Newt would probably lock himself up in his quarters and cry for weeks. Plus, Hermann is apparently kind of awesome at making out?

“I take it your date did not go well,” Hermann breathes in his ear. “I can’t say I mind very much. Will you pull my hair again?”

Newt’s going to examine all this later. “Fuck yeah,” he says.

[simsadventures]

Only Mine: Chapter 7: Need You

Summary: You and Bucky spend more and more time together, realising that there wasn’t any other place you two wanted to be. And things get heated pretty quickly.

Warnings: more fluff, swearing, mobster au, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS)

Word Count: 3585

A/N: I know Bucky’s a mobster and all of that, but I mean, his fluffy side is doing things to me, you guys! What would you like to see happening in the future? Maybe some angst going down? (*wink, wink, wink*) Let me know, love you all!

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

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Spending your time with Bucky was far from what you heard and imagined. You always thought he was this selfish asshole (and he could be, you knew about that side of him) who wouldn’t give a damn about your wishes and dreams. But the side Bucky was showing you was a complete opposite.

He had a lot on his plate, running a mafia wasn’t as easy as you thought, trying to keep everyone and everything in line, getting respect and payments all around, and all of that but he was still able and willing to find time to spend with you. He would usually come to your apartment because you didn’t feel the most comfortable in his bachelor pad, where you knew he brought half of New York to have sex with.

Bucky, at first, didn’t really get why you wouldn’t come to his place, because he felt like you two had more privacy there, as you still lived with Natasha. His apartment was also much more luxurious, with his favourite coffee, soda-maker and all that fancy shit. But after a long conversation, he understood that knowing that he fucked so many women there (even if his cleaning lady took her time getting rid of any traces left by those women) wasn’t appealing to you. And because you were so different to him, he didn’t want to push you into anything you didn’t want.

Each day he spent in your presence, he was growing softer. He could feel it on himself, and even Steve and Sam teased him about it. But the weird thing about that was that he didn’t give a damn. He could still cut out guy’s heart out if he felt like it. It wasn’t about that. It was more like whenever he was with you, he tried to keep to his promise and be a better guy.

And you appreciated this change immensely. You still didn’t let him back in your bed, feeling like you wanted to build a friendship before you did anything. Not that you weren’t horny half the time you two were together. He could whisper something to you while watching a movie, and you could feel the arousal in you. But your goal was clear in your mind, and you wanted to last at least a little longer before you two started getting to know each other a little more intimately. And yes, you were aware that you’ve already slept with him.

Bucky came into your apartment late that afternoon, with his brows furrowed. You knew immediately that something must have happened, but one of the rules you established fairly early on was that you didn’t ask about his job and he didn’t have to feel conflicted about telling you secrets. But he seldom came to your place pissed because something went wrong in his other life. And you were very well aware that if “relationship” had any future, you’d have to get to know his other life as well. As much as you hated just the thought.

You smiled at him at the door, but the smile wasn’t reciprocated. He just nodded and wordlessly entered, marching right to your sofa. He sat down with a huff and closed his eyes. You could see he was fighting himself, tiredness and his lousy mood mixing and creating a deadly combination.

You just stood there, watching him intently, thinking about your next move. There were only two options, you thought. Either you§d pretend like nothing was going on, but that wouldn’t show him that he has a support system in you, just like you knew you had in him, ever since he saved you that night. Or you could show him that he can trust you and that you were there whenever he felt like talking.

You sighed and went to sit down next to him. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You scooted a little closer, touching his thigh in the process. Still no reaction from him. He had his hand on his eyes, and he was breathing through his mouth. Not good signs at all.

“I know that you probably don’t want to talk about it and that I was adamant on not being involved. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here, James, and I’m not going anywhere. So tell me, how can I help you?”

Silence. It was actually deafening. But you let him have his time with his thoughts. You kissed his cheek lightly and got up to re-heat the lasagne you made a few hours ago. You hoped he would at least talk to you if he wasn’t into talking. As you stood there, waiting for the oven heat getting through all of the layers of the food, Bucky finally got off the couch and went to you.

He watched you from behind, as you stood there, waiting patiently. He didn’t understand how a guy like him could have ever landed a girl like you. You were everything and more. He never would’ve admitted it out loud, but he used to be afraid of love, of women in general. But ever since you strolled into his dark life, you brought life into it that he worshipped. And he hoped you’d stay forever, even though he only knew you for such a short amount of time.

Bucky hated days like this. He only just found out that Pierce was running his mouth about returning to New York, and there have been new gang activity in Brooklyn as if the boys didn’t know any better. He had to take care of so much shit that day that when he came to you, he simply couldn’t relax. Thoughts were running through his mind, and it wouldn’t shut up.

But when he saw you there, he felt the stress evaporating from his body, finally letting him breathe a little. He took hesitant steps towards you, and when he reached you, he simply put his head against your shoulder, breathing in your perfume mixed with the little something that made your scent yours.

You didn’t even tense, knowing he was standing there long enough. You were glad he finally got off that couch and was making a move towards you, towards a better night. Before you could say anything, the oven beeped signalling the food was ready to be served. You briefly caressed his cheek and put the lasagna on the table.

You ate in silence, both of you in your own worlds. You were trying to figure out what you could do to make Bucky feel better, and Bucky was trying to shove himself into confiding in you. He knew he’d feel much better, but the protective, paranoid mafia boss in him wasn’t letting go of the secrets he was holding easily.

When you stood up to clean the kitchen,, Bucky was right next to you. He pulled your hand away from the empty plates and kissed them.

“I’m sorry for earlier, doll. I just have so much on my plate. I find it difficult to relax a little lately.”

You smiled, appreciating that he was actually sharing with you. It wasn’t much, but Bucky was one of those people who hated sharing anything personal, so being at least a bit vulnerable with you was a step forward.

“It’s ok, I understand that. Just know that I meant every single word I said. Anything you need, I’m here for you.”

Bucky knew precisely what he needed to release some pressure, but he didn’t want to ask you. You were too precious to him to be used, and he could never act that way around you. But you did say everything…

“I can see that pretty head of yours is thinking of something. Tell me,” you bid him and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Ok, but know that I’m not expecting anything. It’s just that I usually have so much of it and now because I don’t want to push you somewhere you don’t wish I-“

“Just tell me, James. I’m not gonna bite your head off. If I feel that appalled by your idea, I’ll tell you, I promise.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I would like to have sex with you.” He mumbled and kept his eyes trained on the ground. You could even swear that he was blushing a little. You thought of it for a while. Bucky was someone used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. You couldn’t be too sure, but you had a feeling that ever since he met you, he didn’t sleep with anyone. And for a guy being used to getting some every other day, you could imagine in how much “pain” he was.

“Have you been with anyone since our night?” You asked quietly. You didn’t know why you just needed to know. You weren’t even in a relationship so you shouldn’t care about his nightly adventures.

“I tried once. But she wasn’t you, and I couldn’t do it. It was the night you couldn’t reach me, and I felt like I needed to get you out of my mind, but the more I tried to do it, the more you occupied all my thoughts. And even though the woman was beautiful, she wasn’t you. So I sent her away.”

He still wasn’t looking at you, and you were kinda glad. You were looking at him with so much awe that you should have been embarrassed. You weren’t in any proper relationship, and he still couldn’t sleep with anyone else. Just because. Your heart almost jumped out of your body.

You didn’t have any words to give him, so you did the next best thing. You took the remaining step separating you, and you kissed him fervently. You could feel he was hesitant in the beginning, but when he realised what was happening, his arms snaked around your hips, and he pulled you flush against his chest. He deepened the kiss swiftly, trying to get as much as he could while it lasted. He didn’t know if you wanted the whole thing or not, so he tried to get as much as we could.

Warning: smut starting

Your fingers weaved into his hair, pulling ever so slightly, but even this little pressure on his scalp had Bucky moaning into your mouth. He needed you, and he needed you bad. He was already painfully hard, and you’ve only just kissed him. That’s how desperate he was for your touch. To say that he was touch starved would be an understatement of the year.

His fingers roamed the skin on your hips, continuing forward to caress your stomach. He could feel goosebumps erupting on your skin, and he smirked. He was happy to see that he had the exact effect on you as you had on him. He tried to explore as much skin as he could get to, leaving you a shivering and wanton mess. Your mouths work in perfect sync, exchanging dominance, which was a bit surprising to you, considering Bucky was such a dominant guy otherwise. But you were glad about it. You could be the perfect submissive, but knowing that you could have some power over him as well was elevating.

Your own fingers wanted to feel Bucky’s skin, so you let them wander down his torso, pulling his white shirt over his head. His body was as perfect as you remembered. Few scars here and there, but other than that, he was built like a Greek God. In any other situation, it would make you feel anxious about your own physique, but because your own arousal was clouding your mind, you had no time to think about your insecurities.

Bucky’s mouth suddenly left yours, and you would have whimpered if he didn’t attach it to your jaw only a few moments later. You grazed the back of the neck and continued to do so on his arms, clutching his biceps tightly as you felt him leaving his marks all over your neck. You didn’t even know when, but he managed to throw your shirt away as well, leaving you in your bra in front of him.

He momentarily left your neck to appreciate your almost bare chest. Even though you had a pretty simple bra, just sleek black, we could feel premium leaking on the front of his jeans. You were the hottest person he’s ever seen, and he would make sure you knew it by the end of the night. If you let him, that is.

What he didn’t expect was you suddenly grabbing his hand and pulling him towards your bedroom, but not before you grabbed your phone quickly, dialling somebody on it.

Bucky raised his brow, looking at you incredulously. What was so important that you needed to do it while he wanted to make love to you?

“Nat? Yeah, hi. Listen, I need you to stay with Bill, or what’s his name tonight. - Yeah, yeah, I know, but I’m gonna fuck the life out of Bucky, and I don’t need you to listen to it.- Exactly, good. Have a good night, bye!” You rambled quickly, trying to get this out of your hand and get back to the far more exciting activity.

Bucky chuckled silently, and because he didn’t want to wait any longer, he scooped you in his arms, all but running towards your bedroom and throwing you on the bed.

He made a quick work of your leggings, leaving you only in your underwear in front of him. But before he could strip himself to be finally inside you, you jumped out of bed and kneeled in front of him. You wanted to blow his mind, and not only that.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling them down and letting Bucky step out of them. You then looked up at him through your lashes, while cupping his cock through his boxers. Bucky hissed audibly, and you could see the wet patch on his underwear. You felt like the most powerful woman on Earth, having a man like Bucky wanting and squirming because of your touch.

You wanted to tease him, to see just how far you could go before his dominant side resurfaced and he took you the way you imagined. Rough and fast, without any mercy. You grabbed his still clothed cock in your hand and squeezed tightly. You then licked him through his boxers. Bucky was no longer hissing, he was growling.

“Don’t be a tease, Y/N. Please.” He said the please so sweetly that you had to comply.

You grabbed the band of his underwear, pulling it down quickly, letting his fully erect cock spring up and hit Bucky’s abdomen. Just the sight of it made a gush of slick stream from your core, dampening your panties.

You gave him few kitten licks, but no longer wanting to be the tease of the year, your right hand hugged around his girth, while your mouth hollowed around him. Bucky moaned loudly this time, letting all of his precautions run out of the window. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue licking the underside of his massive cock, while your cheeks sucked the life out of him. You then did a thing that you knew would make him go crazy.

You took him to your mouth so far you could feel him hitting your throat, and you gagged a little, but remaining calm. You got this! When your throat relaxed, you stuck your tongue out of your mouth and licked his balls. Your tongue pretty much just teased them, but the second Bucky felt your throat at the tip of his member while your tongue teased his balls, he almost lost it. He swore under his breath and pulled out swiftly.

He looked at you, and he could swear that you have never been prettier. On your knees, with a string of saliva connecting your mouth with his cock, small tears running down your cheeks from the little gag you had there, and your lips pink and plump from all the kissing and sucking.

Bucky bent down and before he kissed you, swiped the saliva from your lips. He grabbed you by your upper arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the bed once again. He was on you in an instant, unclasping your bra and ripping away your panties. Unlike the first time, he wanted to enjoy you a little longer.

Before you knew what was happening, Bucky’s face was on the level of your pussy. And he loved the sight in front of him. Your pussy was calling to him, he was sure of it. And he didn’t hesitate. He dived headfirst, his mouth finding your clit in an instant, sucking on it harshly. If he wasn’t holding on your thighs, the pleasure would make you jump out of bed. That’s how intense it was.

His tongue darted out, and he licked a long strip from your slit to the clit, and you were done for. You have never been so wet in your life. His tongue inserted your pussy, teasing you and eating you out like his life depended on it. You weren’t even sure if he had enough oxygen down there, but the pleasure didn’t let you think about his needs.

When you felt like you couldn’t take more, his finger entered you, reaching all the right places, but not quite. You wanted his cock, throbbing and heavy in your pussy and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“James, please, please stop the torture and fuck me.” He smirked, but his eyes gleamed a little stronger because of the way you called him. He probably never had a girl calling him by his first name, and definitely not during sex. He was obsessed by the sound of it on your lips.

He left little kisses on your skin as he went up to kiss you properly. He wanted to enter you in every way possible.

Your knees fell around Bucky’s hips, giving him enough space to grind against you. He almost spilled himself on your stomach when he felt just how wet you actually were for him. It was intoxicating, and he wanted the night to never stop.

He looked at you one last time, seeking any fear or question in your eyes, but when he didn’t find anything of that sorts, he slowly pushed into you. It’s been long for you as well, and you could feel him stretching you to the point where it actually hurt a little. When he was fully sheeted, he gave you a few seconds to adjust to him, for which you were immensely thankful.

When he finally started moving, he couldn’t hold himself. He pounded into you, your breasts bouncing under his chest, his chest-hair scraping your erect nipples. You were both moaning loudly, not caring that your neighbours (and maybe the whole building) heard you two.

He could feel you getting closer, your walls pulsing, and he sped up. He wanted to give you everything he had, and he needed to sate you. It took only a few more strokes to the right place, and you were screaming his name, scraping his back with your nails and holding onto him for dear life. You were seeing stars, and your toes were curling, and you knew that you’d feel him inside for days to come.

Bucky was coming right after you, biting your neck to prevent himself from screaming like a boy. When he pulled out of you, he watched as a white string of his seed flown out of your swollen pussy, his dick twitching in interest again.

Warning ending

He laid down next to you, still panting. When he looked at you, you were already looking at him, and the sight made him smile.

“That was exactly what I needed, Y/N. Thank you. I know you wanted to wait, so-“

“If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have. I’m happy you said what you needed, and I’m even happier I could be the one making you a little more relaxed.”

He kissed the crown of your head and hugged you even tighter. You listened to the beat of his heart, letting it calm you down.

“Today was such a shitty day, and I needed to let off some steam. I know I chose what I do, and I love it, don’t get me wrong. I’m the big boss, and I take shit from nobody. It’s just nice to be only a guy sometimes, spending his nights with his girl.”

The last comment made your heart flutter. “Your girl?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Hell yeah, my girl. You better remember it too, sweetheart, because I won’t let anyone even look at you.”

You chuckled even though you were aware that he meant it very, very seriously. This possessive side of him was something you two needed to work on, but you had time for that. Now you just wanted to enjoy being his girl, and hopefully, it meant something little more than the girl of the month.

“So you’re not getting rid of me by the end of the month?”

Bucky pinched your side, making you laugh, and he nuzzled your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, doll. I won’t let you.”

It was a promise, and you would take it. Any day.

/Next Chapter> 

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If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[seasami]

Larry Fic Rec -- June/July

hii!! so I’ve got some fics that I read in June and July (until now). If you see a ✰ next to a title it means I really liked it and it’s one of my favs from the ones I listed. If there’s a 🔒 next to title it means you have to be logged in to read.

[Click on the title for link]

                                               _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Latitude by nikogda (44k)

Summary: Harry’s a hybrid on a boat about to be hit by a storm and Louis is the human who comes to his rescue. That storm is all the time they have to fall in love before going their separate ways. That is, until almost a year later… 

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by Anonymous ✰ (25k)

Summary: Harry had been kissed before, but never like this.He’d shared sweet, curious kisses behind bleachers and in soda shop booths, one or two more daring ones in cars parked on dark suburban streets, but the girls he’d kissed had never filled him with the desperation that erupted from Louis’ touch. He parted his lips and pulled him closer, as though he could breathe Louis straight into his lungs, as if he could swallow him. He wanted to consume Louis the way he consumed the body and blood of Christ. He wanted to place Louis on his tongue and feel him dissolve into a frothy mess of starch and saliva. He wanted to gulp him down until his teeth were stained purple and he was drunk on him. He wanted him in some violent holy way that made his hands shake where they were twisted in Louis’ shirt.

In 1949 Harry left his bride at the altar, running away from the only life he'd known. When a kindhearted farmer offers him a ride in his truck and a place to sleep the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together. Isolated on Louis' farm with nobody but a field of dairy cows to intrude, the men are finally able to explore the parts of themselves they've spent their lives hiding away.

No Candle No Light (No Friendzone To My Love) by Anonymous (11k)

Summary: Louis glanced at his friend, glaring daggers and Niall chuckled. He looked like his idea could end world hunger and Louis was horrified. [...]“Come on, Niall! Tell me!” Harry insisted, excited.“You can threaten him other than with violence. You said you want a little revenge, right? What if an ex-boyfriend came to reconquer you? You know, the jealous and aggressive kind.”Harry sighed loudly, closing his eyes. Louis frowned, just like Liam and Zayn. What was he talking about? And why was he still looking at Louis that way?“Niall, this could’ve been a nice idea if I had an ex-boyfriend, but-”“Let me explain!” Niall barged in. “ You don’t have an ex-boyfriend but you can pretend you have one! I’m sure Louis would love to help you with that.”Liam almost choked on his wine and Zayn bit so hard on his lip to contain his laughter that it might have bled. Niall looked satisfied as hell, of course he was the little shit, and Louis just had time to flip him the finger before Harry turned to him. He was fucking delighted.

Or the one where helping Harry getting rid of his boyfriend may be the only way to his heart

Sugar by lettersfromvenus (15k) ✰

Summary: 

“I hope our paths will ‘croissant’ again.” 

There’s a little smiley face drawn next to the words, and it’s ridiculous, Louis knows, but he can’t help the swell of butterflies that he feels as he reads over the words once more. An odd fellow indeed, he thinks.A moment later he shakes his head and collects himself, because he really does need to get home; he’s sure that Harry is probably watching him from behind the counter, all sweet, smug smiles and pink cheeks. And if he’s being honest, he’s not entirely sure he won’t toss his groceries into the trash and walk straight back into the bakery if he doesn’t leave now, so… he really does need to get going.

 Before he goes on his way, though, he plucks the note from the top of the container and carefully tucks it inside of his wallet to protect it from the rain.

That’s how it begins.

Only Been Here One Time by alienharry (10k)

Summary: 

“Good morning, Liam. Harry.” Louis nods at them both and then cocks his head. “Are you aware you have four nipples, Harry?”

Harry looks down at his chest, suddenly worried. He doesn’t know how many nipples humans have, but four must not be a usual amount. “Should I have six?”

“Not unless you’ve a litter of kittens to feed.”

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante (112k) ✰

I KNOW ITS ICONIC BUT I READ IT A MONTH AGO SO I THOUGHT I’D INCLUDE IT HERE. 

Summary: American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers). 

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football. 

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

It’s All Brand New by midnightwhistleberries (10k)

Summary: “Harry,” Louis intones emphatically, “literally everyone in the U.K. has known that I’m openly bisexual since 2011.” 

“’Cept you, I guess,” supplies Niall. 

In which Harry studies engineering, loves Madonna, and can't tell if Louis likes him or just keeps coming back to the record store because he's some sort of musical hoarder. Louis is famous, Harry has no idea, communication issues are rampant and fluffy pining ensues.

Fool For You by flowercrownfemme, lesbianferrissbueller (46k) ✰

Summary:  “It’s not a game.” Harry scoffed, trying to push past him once more but Louis held his ground. “And I’ve never once told you a lie.” “All you do is lie," Harry argued. "Jests and tricks and made up stories, that’s your trade. I’d never trust a word from your mouth.” “I tell stories,” Louis conceded, “but a good one must be based on truth. And my stories tend to get a bit more truthful when I’m around you, Princess.”

In which Harry is a brooding prince who's scarcely smiled since the death of his mother and Louis is the dashing jester hired to change that.

streetwise hercules by bottomlinsons (7k) 🔒

Summary: I said,” Louis’ voice is venomous, “who the fuck is this?”Right. This is Harry’s part.

(Uni AU, where Louis pretends to be Harry's boyfriend to scare away his one night stands.)

Close Enough To Touch by stinky28 (7k)

Summary: “You are killing it!” The stranger shouts in his ear, to which Louis raises a brow, setting up the next transition and song, bobbing a bit in place before glancing over to the stranger and Oh. Red. 

He’s staring right at a very large, oddly tied red bow tie. It takes up the whole stranger’s chest and..it’s bloody brilliant. He fucking loves it. He feels himself break into a giant grin, looking up at Mr. Red Bowtie’s face and Oh. Fuck. 

OR an au where louis is the dj for the met gala after party and harry can’t leave his side.

Hate Me To The Moon by harrystylesandstuff (83k)

Summary: The last thing Harry wanted was to spend his entire summer stuck with his dad's new fiancée and her kids. He wants no more when he learns she's a very religious dictator, raising a sixteen year old nun and a clean cut potential priest ass kisser.

Everything takes a slightly different turn, however, when Harry finds out his future step-brother is actually the rude stranger he caught sucking off a guy in a pub, far from the reserved Christian his mom thinks he is...

AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other's guts to convince themselves they're not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn't feel...

hush. by Wankerville (41k)

Summary: “I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

The Unsuccessful Promise by trysomecats (11k)

Summary: At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status. 

Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor (20k) 

Summary: A canon-compliant AU, in which Harry and Louis are both in the band and have been sharing flats and hotel rooms for nearly five years, but never made the leap past 'friends who are too close for comfort'. 

Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own.

OKAY! That’s it for now cause I don’t want this post to be too long (oof i’ve read a lot actually). I have Fic Rec June/July Part Two in drafts and im also gonna collect fics that I’ve read on my kindle (its usually above 50k and make a fic rec with them). Stay tuned and follow my blog so you don’t miss it idk <33. 

PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK ON THIS: I can make: Iconic Fics, My Fav Fics or try and do some themed fic rec. LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D WANT THAT! 

[werifestaria]

Hi I love your blog layout it so tidy!! Also would it be alright if I got a bnha matchup please?. My pronouns are she/her and I'm bisexual. My personality type is ISTJ, I'm a sagittarius sun, scorpio moon and libra rising. To the public I'm pretty closed off/reserved but with my friends I'm brave, loyal and love to laugh. I don't trust easily and I'm pretty cautious of everyone so I try to keep out of the way.

My hobbies include gymnastics which I did competitively and won a few medals, I also do figure skating and have leveled up pretty quickly at that. I workout everyday because even though I dont compete now I still want to improve and if anything I'm better now than I was back then.

I like indie music, horror movies mainly psychological, nature and wildlife and the peace and quiet it brings. I hate loud, busy places, untidy, dirty things and people messing up my routine.

My love language is quality time like I just wanna be around that person a lot. I think the love language that speaks to me most is probably also quality time, like the fact that they would want to be around me willingly seems so unfamiliar I love the idea of it. Also words of affirmation or physical touch, I'm awkward at giving those but receiving them would make me melt cause I'm not really used to any of it. My ideal dates are simple things like going on walks at like 3am or dancing in the livingroom or movie nights just cheap simple things like that.

hope that's okay sorry it kindof long :)

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚

Thank you so much for one of our first requests! We appreciate your love for the layout as well!! Tbh, I spent multiple hours straight getting it just right, so it’s a relief people find it pretty- and also, Scorpio moon gang! anyways, I hope you enjoy your matchup from me! Have a lovely day, hun

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 !

runner-up : hanta sero

Easily, Kirishima is one of BNHA’s most easygoing, compassionate characters. His heart is big and always in the right place. Based off of your description and his own array of traits, I think he is the perfect character for you! Like, almost a little too perfect. A Sagittarius and a Libra (Kirishima’s sun sign!) are said to be very compatible and harmonious. Even better, it’s also said that people are often drawn to others who have their sun sign in the ascendant—Kirishima being a Libra sun and you being a Libra rising! To make things even more fantastic, perfect, and everything in between, Kirishima’s MBTI (according to The Personality Database) is ESFP. Guess what? ISTJ’s and ESFP’s are said to be extremely compatible! Of course, he’d find your inner demeanor to be extremely attractive. As he is naturally social, he wouldn’t mind your reserved nature and would pursue you in both friendship & romance regardless. Your outer shell would only lead him to appreciate your comical inner-self even more! He’d greatly admire your bravery and loyalty as well—it’s not something you see often anymore, after all. He’d try to bring the best out of you as naturally as possible, letting you do the same to him. Easily, he’s the most supportive boyfriend you could ever get! This man would adore you with patience, admiration, and sheer love, all with his own cheesy, dorky flair. I imagine Kirishima is careful in love, yet just as bold as the sun. He’s grounded, but on his most passionate days, his admiration can never be paralleled. You’d simply make him weak in the knees with every glance you’d spare him!

𖥸 Your music taste simply infects him. Imagine him listening to indie music with you 🥺🥺 your head in his lap as he plays with your hair- omg!! he loves to just sit and vibe with you. Nothing can compare to the fun you have on your chilliest days- he loves spending time with you in little ways like that

𖥸 Workout dates!! He’s infatuated with you for many reasons, but one of them is because you work out. The dude literally thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world and he adores working out with you. It’s easily his kryptonite lol

𖥸 Kiri has no concept of grace, so he is extremely impressed with your gymnastics and figure skating skills!! He could watch you do your thing for hours tbh. Like, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. In fact, I think he’d try to incorporate more nimbleness to his moves even though such a feat is kinda difficult when you can turn into rock. You gotta give him some credit tho- we all know he can be a little too opportunistic!! Just imagine him tripping all over himself because he wants to be nimble like you- that little blush on his face as he apologies for being a dummy- aww 💕💕

𖥸 Simply the king of casual dates. Sure, he’d love to spoil you with the stars and more, but he knows you like it calm- fr, you two are actually the cutest when it comes to staying up late and just messing around with no care in the world 💕 also, nature dates? Small picnics in the park?? I bet he’d love to go hiking with you. He likes to point out cool flowers or pretty weeds whenever you two are outside for even the shortest amount of time

𖥸 He loves watching horror movies with you.. even though they scare him a little bit LMAO- but just cuddling with you as your favorite movie plays in the background is simply heaven to him. Maybe you can turn him into a psychological horror buff!!

𖥸 He is also the king of words of affirmation~ the dude loves to remind you about how much you mean to him and how confident you make him feel within himself

You two really are couple goals imo 💕💕💕

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡

Gahhh!! I was so excited to ship you with someone!! Thank you so much for requesting!! Also! Don’t worry about long bios in your matchup requests! The longer they are the more mod Ara and I can assess who’s best for you! Its definitely preferable. I hope you enjoy who I match you with. ^w^

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

⠀

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨 !

runner-up : hanta sero

In my opinion, I feel that Mina is the perfect match for you!! First lets get some compatible basics out of the way. Like our good friend Kirishima above, Minas MBTI is also an ESFP (according to the personality database lol). As we know, ESFPs tend to be the most compatible with ISTJs. To add onto that, Mina just so happens to be a Leo!! Leos and Sagittarius's are often compared to soulmates and having a twin flame like connection! It’s a little scary how well you two fit each other, personality dynamics and all. Though you may have been cautious and quiet at first meet, Mina most likely pestered and wiggled her way into your life! She loves making new friends anyhow, and saw no issue in going out of her way to talk to you every chance she could. Now becoming your girlfriend later on would just be an added bonus for her! You better believe she finds your bravery admirable, it drives right up her alley. The two of you would make an absolute power couple, even a fan favorite!! Often, she’d make jokes or even play along with ones that you make in return, just to be able to hear your laughter. It fills her stomach with butterflies and she’s near falling apart at the seams with every melodic giggle. Get ready to be showered in compliments and praise, that’s this girls specialty, and she’d happily fluster you any day with her sickeningly sweet words. 

𖥸 Mina would probably ask you to spar with her a lot. Practicing new moves and quirk related techniques. God knows she loves staying active, and doing something she deems this fun with someone she loves. It makes the moment even more worth while. With your experience in gymnastics, you’d find that you’re able to run circles around this girl with your skill. Afterwards she’d probably offer a massage to ease any sore muscles. 

𖥸 Now as much as Mina would probably prefer a night on the town as a date, she would not think twice about choosing a secluded casual option for your comforts sake. Be that stargazing or even staying in to watch one of those horror films  that you love oh so much over popcorn and sodas. (She’s actually terrified of them, and has a weak stomach, but she’d never tell you that.) 

𖥸 Aimless car drives. Picture the sun setting, painting the sky in a soft pink and an orange hue flickering off of the distant buildings. Your preferred indie song blaring through the speaker while the two of you belt out the lyrics. Neither of you can hear each other over the sound of the wind rolling in through open windows, or how high she cranked the volume. You’ll definitely have to be the one to turn it back down, she can’t help but love loud music, even if the music wasn’t intended to be loud in the first place lol. 

𖥸 Don’t be surprised if she comes to you one day with a gift bag in hand. Every time she goes into a store she has to come out with something that reminds her of you. She’s not even aware of it either until you point it out. This could range from something as simple as your favorite drink to a giant teddy bear that she claimed resembled you. The possibilities are endless. 

𖥸 My word is she in love, infatuated even. That one night she caught you dancing about in the kitchen, probably making a late night snack, she couldn’t look away. In fact, she still thinks about it from time to time. How happy and carefree you looked lip-syncing the lyrics, in the silliest kinds of pjs you owned. She tried to sneak her way in, trying her best to not to make you jump in surprise, though she probably failed with how eager she actually zoomed in. Her love for dancing couldn’t go unnoticed here, oh no, not now. She brought you in close with a twirl under her arm, her smile the widest you’ve seen it. Her flirty nature, only for you, had her compliments laced with sugar and honey. Who knows how long the two of you spent dancing and goofing off to your playlist in that darned kitchen. 

Gosh the two of you make me squeal!! There’s absolutely no way you aren’t made for each other!  

𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 !

[ohallthecrushes]

Insomnia // Arthur Fleck x Reader

A/N: I’m baaack, lol. This request was in my box for some time, but I finally finished it. I hope you like it. :)

Summary: Anonymous requested: Reader doesn't sleep often because they have really bad nightmares that result in anxiety attacks. Arthur is super worried. Reader would fall asleep for a few seconds before snapping awake and grabbing either a redbull, soda or a coffee. Arthur feels bad about this but he ends up slipping a sleeping pill in reader's drink. Reader passes out n he takes them to bed. He comforts and calms them when their nightmares start.

Word counts:2320

You didn’t know when your nightmares exactly had begun and what had caused them. What more important you didn’t know how to stop them or at least avoid all factors that triggered them. What worse, you couldn’t hide your anxiety and the effects of the lack of sleeping you’d recently experienced.

You couldn’t focus on anything, your memory barely function properly and your mood was lower than low, you became more irritated and jumpy.

So brittle in Arthur’s eyes.

To be honest, you felt bad for Arthur even more than for your own self. Bad for him having to see you in that poor state you’d been in, bad for him wanting so desperately to help you, but couldn’t and therefore being extremely worried about you. Constant nightmares and lack of sleep put a bad impact on your health and look, in a strange way you had found a way to deal with it though - tons of energy drinks, coffee and staying awake seemed to help you avoid your nightmares. But it was very unhealthy and that way of copping was destined to fail eventually.

You didn’t want your boyfriend to be worried about you. He had his own struggles and fears to deal with. Arthur was such a sweetheart as your boyfriend, he always tried his best for you, and he always took care of you when you were in a bad shape mentally and/or physically, and he gave you his strength to get through the day when you needed.

He was always there for you, and vice-versa, you were always there for him too. You were strong together, you supported one another, understood each other and you were one of those couple that with no single doubt were meant to be.

But even with all the love and support, sometimes things got too bad and ugly that neither of you knew what to do anymore to fix it.

Your nightmares only got bad with time and even with Arthur’s care, therapy and your both efforts to try to reduce the stress, you still were haunted by dreadful and tiresome images.

You started to drink a lot more Redbull and coffee than usual to stay awake, a lot more than any other drinks you had. Way too much for Arthur’s taste.

He observed you even more attentively than before. He noticed every signs of your distress and anxiety and he was deeply concerned about you. He didn’t want you to know that, but he was freaking out inside for not being able to help you get rid of the problem.

He completely understood it, he had very similar problem with insomnia as well. He was haunted by nightmares from time to time that caused him to wake up all sweaty and afraid. He couldn’t sleep because of his anxiety and depression. The only relief he had was with you sleeping by his side, comforting him when he woke up after having a really bad dream.

For him it had gotten better after you moved in together. His insomnia had clearly withdrawn and he slept more peacefully beside you. You were his angel and teddy bear, his one and only, and you were more than he could ever imagined.

He didn’t understand why it was different for you. He tried to figure it out as well. He even took into account that he might be the reason for your nightmares, that maybe you hated living with him but couldn’t admit it. Those thoughts made him very sad, but then he reminded himself how often you were saying that you loved him and how much comfort he was giving you by simply being in your life.

You loved him, he had no doubt about it. But you were in distress and pain and that was making him so worried and concerned. He knew how terrible and exhausted insomnia was. He didn’t want you to share the same fate as him. You didn’t deserve it. His. One. And. Only. Didn’t. Deserve. It.

He clenched his fist everytime you left for work after only a few hours of sleeping. As you took your fifth Redbull at work, Arthur were smoking his tenth cigarette and clenched his fists angry at his own helplessness.

One night, you woke up almost screaming, with a heavy beating of your scared heart in your chest and with tears in your eyes. For a moment you didn’t recognize your bedroom, so real that nightmare was, you had been detached from reality and still in your nightmare even after you woke up.

Arthur was by your side awake as well, his arms already wrapped around you firmly to protect you from invisible monsters from your head. His lips trembling, but calming you down with soft words and taking you back to him, ensuring you that nothing would hurt you, nothing would even try as long as he was with you, and he’d always be with you, no matter what.

You looked at him, you looked at his worried face and you nodded your head trying to believe him. You couldn’t say a word, your body was shaking, but you tried to even your breathing with his as he put your hand on his chest, letting you feel his heart beating and his chest moving steadily, so you could synchronize with him.

For the next few minutes you were siting on his lap and rested your head onto his chest. He was stroking your hair and telling you sweet nothings.

You felt falling asleep again, but you shook yourself out of it as soon as you realized that.

- You need to sleep - he said with a worrying voice.

- No, I- I can’t - you disagreed as you already knew that all you needed was an energy drink - I have to go to the bathroom and...

Make myself a coffee - you thought to yourself.

Arthur was aware of what you didn’t say, though he also had some idea. Idea that might not be good in moral sense, but...

- Mhmh... - he kissed the top of your head and let you slide off his thighs - Go to the bathroom, and... meanwhile I’ll make you a tea. What do you think? Instead of coffee?

- I don’t know... - your voice was low, you couldn’t look at his face, knowing that you were disconcerting him much more than his heart could take. But there was nothing you could do about it, or at least that’s what you thought.

- Herbal tea will calm you down and I’ll stay with you all night to keep you company if you want to stay awake.

He took your hand in his, searching for your eyes trying to assure you that he’d be there protecting you all night, that you didn’t have to worry.

You licked your lips and sighed - I don’t want you to be awake because of me. You go to work at 7, you need to get some sleep...

A faint smile appeared on his face.

- As well as you darling - he thought, but said - I’ll be fine - instead.

He walked you to the bathroom door and then headed to the kitchen. As a kettle was placed on the stove, he took your favorite cup and a bag of herbal tea. The idea he’d had before came back to him and his eyes landed on a blister pack of sleeping pills. He hesitated when he reached for it. He didn’t know if that was something he should do or not, but he couldn’t think of anything else. He only meant good for you and he was sure that it was something you needed. Also he knew it wouldn’t do any harm to you. He was cautious with pills. It wasn’t the first time he slipped some pills into someone’s food and drinks.

He counted the pills, minding how many he could gave you. His plan was as simple as it could be. Maybe a little desperate too, but what else could he do? You hadn’t been sleeping properly for a week now and it was getting only worse. It was another night when you forced yourself to be awake. It broke his heart to see you suffer like this.

The water was boiled and he heard you flushing the toilet, so he hurried and mangled the pills into your drink.

You walked out of the bathroom and found Arthur standing in the living room with a cup of tea in his hand. He was ready to go back to the bedroom, but you stopped him.

- Let’s sit on the couch, ok? - you said with a tired voice before you yawned.

You yawned again as you sat down and searched for a remote control.

Arthur sat down beside you and put the cup on the table.

The tv clicked and the screen lightened up with a bright blue color.

He wasn’t interested in whatever was on the screen, his eyes were on you, examining the dark bags under your eyes.

He wanted to kiss them, but he didn’t want to be weird about it.

He lifted his arm for you instead and you quickly took your tea before you made yourself comfortable under his protectiveness.

You both were just cuddling, not so much invested into watching a movie. You were sipping your tea and wondered if Arthur would let you make yourself a coffee later, while Arthur was just waiting until his plan worked.

It started working pretty soon after you yawned the third time and felt your eyelids getting very heavy. You forced them to stay open, but you couldn’t focus on anything you were looking at. Your vision weren’t blurry, just... it’s like you were dizzy, but in a different unknown way.

You rubbed your eyes and took a big sip of your tea. If not tea than maybe coffee would keep you awake.

You moved and leaned forward to put the cup back on the table, but somehow you missed the tabletop that apparently were farther than you’d thought and you almost dropped the cup.

- Damn it... - you shook your head to wake yourself up, but it only made the dizziness stronger. Your body felt weird to you, like it lost its strength, your perception was deceiving you and you had no idea what was happening to you.

Arthur’s hands hold your arms as if he was afraid you could fall down. He guided you back and gently pressed you to his chest.

- You sure, you don’t want to go to the bedroom, honey? - he said with a soft almost pleading voice.

He felt bad about the pills. Also worried that you would be upset at him if you found out. He hoped you just slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep, but he knew you would be trying to stay awake.

Not for long of course.

Fighting with sleeping pills were pointless.

- I’m good, Artie, just... - you wanted to say something, but forgot the word - I need to... - you pointed at the bathroom as you slowly stood up.

- Yeah, sure, sweetheart. Just come back quick, alright?

You nodded and took two steps before you felt lightheaded and you had to throw your hands up to regain the balance. It was as if you were walking on an invisible rope. Way too high above the ground.

Once again you felt Arthur’s hands saving you from falling as he grabbed your waist from behind you and helped you stand straight.

- Are you alright?

- Umm, not sure... - you turned around to him and your vision became more darker. It was weird. You heard the tv was on, but it was as dark as if it weren’t. The vertigo in your head just continue making you lost your balance.

You couldn’t stand anymore. Your legs were weak. They felt too light, like in contrast to your heavy eyelids. You managed to grip on Arthur’s shirt before you felt yourself falling.

- I’m sorry... - Arthur’s voice reached your ears right before you lost your conscious.

He effortlessly caught your ragdoll body from falling on the floor and lifted you up. He talked to you as he was carrying you to the bed.

- Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be fine. I’m right here beside you. You needed to sleep, you see... I had to do something. But don’t worry, it’ll be a deep sleep with no dreams. You’ll feel better when you wake up, I promise.

You couldn’t hear it in your sleep, but he talked to you anyway as he placed you gently on the bed and kissed your forehead before he slipped under the cover to lay beside you.

You seemed to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night while he kept his promise and stayed awake to watch over you.

When you woke up, Arthur was already gone. It was 10a.m. and you couldn't remember when was the last time you slept for so long. And so deep. You didn’t remember if you dreamed about anything and it was better that way. You felt rested and those weird experience from earlier disappeared. Your morning had started good, though you were disappointed that Arthur weren’t present.

You looked at his pillow and saw a paper apparently torn out from his journal. You unfolded it right away and smiled to yourself. You would recognize his handwriting anywhere.

“Dear love,

I hope you had a good sleep witout any nitemares and that you feel beter now. I also hope that the rest of your day passes in a good way too. I can’t wait to see you again and hold you in my arms! I love you so so so much my One and Only. :)

Lots of kisses, Arthur”