#Queen fanficition

[author-morgan]

i see your requests are open!! can you do something sweet with Harald? (and Halfdan if you’re comfortable with polyamory!)

Of courseeeee. Here is some Harald fluff (with a pinch of bittersweetness and angst). I was going to have this be polyamorous (bc those two come as a pair more often than naught in my fics lbr lol), but once I got started it just turned into something more Harald-centric. Hope you don't mind! (I went a little overboard for him again) Harald Finehair x fem!Reader

HALFDAN THE BLACK is the first to enter Tamdrup’s great hall upon returning from a successful raiding season. The doors swing open wide, and those gathered for the tribunal part, making way for the victorious. Rising from the seat of power, you go to him with open arms, smiling. “I see you brought my husband back,” you muse, watching Harald enter the hall at last, surrounded by a score of rowdy warriors and overjoyed denizens—rightfully so, they have returned with riches and have lost fewer than a dozen warriors during the raids.

“I fear what you would do if I didn’t,” Halfdan laughs, tossing down a heavy coin purse on the table before taking you into his arms.

“It is always good to see you again,” you smile, kissing your marriage-brother’s cheek. He is inclined to agree. After long days at sea and many weeks away, it is good to be greeted by a fair and familiar face such as yours. Halfdan clasps your shoulder as he steps around you, pouring himself a cup of mead—leaving you to his brother. “Harald,” you greet, and the hall falls silent as he approaches you.

His breath catches as he beholds you, standing before him regal as ever with a gifted silver circlet resting upon your brow. His wife. His queen. His heart. It is as though the rest of the world falls away when he stops before you, rough hands cradling your face with the gentlest of touches. “By all the gods” —he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks— “you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

Harald’s kiss is slow and soft—save for the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheek and jaw—and speaks of the months of longing to return to your loving arms. You kiss him like you’ve done a thousand times before, falling into the rhythm as though you never parted. Your fingers comb through his beard as you part, foreheads resting together, but then your smile widens as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. “I’ve missed you,” you breathe. But now he’ll be yours again until the next raiding season comes.

THE WHEEL OF time does not slow, and the harvest season fades into winter and then to the first buds of spring. Nigh all the Vestfold gathered in Tamdrup tonight for the feast to celebrate sowing the first seeds of the new crop and seasoning the turned soil with sacred blood. But that is not the only reason the jarls and fighting men have come all this way. In the coming weeks, Harald, Halfdan, and anyone else willing to sail will make their way to Frankia to raid Paris with Ragnar Lothbrok. Festivities last long into the night, but Harald comes to you soon after you take leave.

He draws lines over the length of your spine as you lay with him, head pillowed on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heat, bare legs entwined, but then you twist in his arms and lean up to kiss him—featherlight and sweet as the mead still on his breath—fingertips following the blue-black scrollwork of his tattoos. Then he tilts his head back, letting you trace the curving lines on his neck and down to the ones on his chest—only your touch could ever make him tremble.

“Paris?” You repeat, following one of the silver scars on his ribs with your fingertips. He’s spoken of the city to the south and of Ragnar Lothbrok before, but with the night’s feast, it became official. Come the spring, he would prepare his ships and set sail to join the farmer-turned-king on his second venture to Frankia.

“Yes,” Harald says, his voice a low rasp. He sees it in your eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe this time you will sail with him and his brother—that you will be able to visit the distant lands so many speak of—but now is not the time for you to venture into the unknown. Your life is not something he can risk so easily and carelessly. Harald curls his hand around yours, then kisses the center of your palm and holds your hand close to his chest. “I need you here, my heart,” he tells you, but you already know that.

“I’ll plan a feast and a sacrifice before you and Halfdan depart,” you tell him—it is what any good queen and wife would do to see her husband and people return safe and with victory. And then he takes your lips and your breath, holding you close. You sigh into his mouth, letting his tongue brush yours, fingers slipping back into his unbound hair. His kiss is reverent, and you cannot help but miss the cracked softness of his lips against yours when he parts, but it is only so he can hold you in his arms.

TEN DAYS AFTER Harald Finehair first sets sail to Kattegat, his brother and the remainder of the fleet are ready to follow. The last of the barrels and crates are being rolled and loaded into the longships when you arrive on the docks to bid everyone farewell and good fortune on their journeys. Six hundred men and shieldmaidens from the Vestfold have gathered over the last two moons, all to leave on this day to join Ragnar Lothbrok in his endeavors—but Tamdrup will feel empty without their presence. Though, there is already a newfound hollowness in the wake of Harald’s departure.

You find Halfdan amongst the chaos, checking the yellow-red shields secured on the side of one of the ships. “Halfdan,” you call, and he turns on heel to face you with a half-bow—nigh teasing in nature, but you are, after all, his queen. Before he can stand upright, you reach out and rest your hands on his cheeks, and he bends a little farther, accepting the kiss you bestow upon his brow. “Be safe,” you tell him, hands moving to clasp his. “Look after your brother.”

Halfdan squeezes your hands. “You know I will,” he assures you. That is something you’ll never have to worry about—the bonds of blood and brotherhood run deep. You nod, and he steps back down into the longship. At your hest, they will set sail for glory and, if the gods deem it so, Valhalla.

One of your attendants hastens to the dock, stepping forward to present the gift commissioned from the blacksmith and jeweler—it's meant to be a surprise in celebration of another year of marriage, but alas, such care and detail took longer than expected. It’s a necklace of bronze and silver with a pendant shaped into the likeness of Mjölnir clasped in the mouths of two silver dragonheads on a chain of alternating links. “It was not finished before Harald left,” you explain, placing the necklace in Halfdan’s palm. “Give it to him, please.” Halfdan nods. “And all my love.”

RESOUNDING HORNS ANNOUNCE the return of Harald Finehair’s fleet in the dark hours of the evening. You rise from bed and make haste to the docks—handmaids following close behind with slippers and a cloak, but decorum is the least of your concerns. So few have returned, you think, counting the dwindling number of ships gathered compared to how many set off. The first wave departs one of the docked ships, and there is no air of triumph in those who press past you—eager to return to home and hearth and for solid ground beneath their feet. “Harald!” You call as he steps from the longship and onto the dock.

But he does not embrace you as he normally would after such a long voyage, and the spark in his stormy blue eyes is faded. It is only when you see who the men are carrying off the ship on a crude stretcher do you understand the cause of your husband’s sullen mood. “Halfdan,” you breathe, looking between him and Harald. You step to your marriage-brother and lift the pelt of fur covering his torso, grimacing—the wound at his shoulder is a festered, blackish mess, and the sweat on his brow in the first chill of winter speaks of the fever that’s set in during the return voyage.

You turn to one of your handmaids. “Call on Mjöll,” you instruct, “quickly.” The years have seen you clean and bind both Harald and Halfdan’s wounds, but this is far beyond your skill, and an herbalist will be needed to call Halfdan back from the cusp of the next life. The girl nods and sets off to the healer’s hut. Looking back at the stretcher-bearers, you point up the way to the great hall. “Take him to the great hall.” In such a state, Halfdan will need several pairs of watchful eyes.

Dark shadows cast from torchlight and iron braziers shroud Harald’s expression—he does not understand how it is you can stand with so much equanimity when faced with such loss. Harald steps to you, and his shoulders fall, then wordless, he slumps into your arms, resting his forehead on your shoulder—another weight you must bear—hands twisting into the fabric of your pale linen shift. You smooth your hand over his back, following the length of his braid-bound hair. “I thank the gods you have returned to me, my love,” you breathe, unwilling to let him part just yet.

Mjöll works to prepare a cataplasm of moss and herbs into the hours of the night, and you kneel at the prepared pallet of fur and pillows, placing a cool, damp rag upon Halfdan’s brow. There is little else you can do for your marriage brother besides trust the herbalist’s remedies, pray to the gods, and hope they are merciful. Mjöll nods for you to leave and tend to your husband. She and her apprentice will care for Halfdan.

He is pacing the length of the foot of the bed when you enter your shared chambers—hands flexing into fists at his side. You step into Harald’s path, hands going to the ties and buckles of his leathern armor. “If the High One truly sought Halfdan’s company,” you tell him, setting aside his vambraces before turning back, “he would already be feasting in the Halls of the Slain.”

To Harald, it is poor consolation but consolation all the same. And deep down, he knows you are right. Shrugging off his worn and stained tunic, he goes to the washbasin and splashes water on his face and chest, scrubbing away a mix of sweat and salt spray, and blood too. Harald returns to sit at your side on the bed—he stares ahead at the flickering flames of tallow candles. “What happened?” You finally dare ask.

“The magic of Ragnar Lothbrok failed,” he tells you. The lingering taste of defeat is bitter on his tongue—the gods had forsaken them on that river, had forsaken Ragnar. As it happened to be, he was just like any other man. “We were humiliated and pushed out of Frankia with nothing to show for it.” He does not remember the last time he returned to Tamdrup, to you, with nothing to show for his travels. It will take time for the Vestfold to recover from such a defeat.

You touch his cheek, fingers combing through his unkempt beard, drawing his gaze to you. “You live, as does your brother.” The rancor in his expression falters, his jaw unclenching, and he leans into you—his nose just barely bumping against yours. Yes, he and Halfdan escaped with their lives. That is more than can be said for many who embarked on the journey to Paris. Ragnar Lothbrok may have lost the favor of the gods, but they still smiled upon Harald and his brother. “That is enough for me,” you say, softly. He kisses you then, and you meld against him with a sigh and a slight smile that he can feel on your lips.

HE SITS ON his throne—slouched to the side and staring into the abyss, twisting his shark-tooth crown in his hands. Your king has returned, yet still, it is only you shouldering the weight of the kingdom. You stop at the dais and extend your hand toward him. “Walk with me.” It is not a request. Harald rises and follows.

The path through the forest is well-worn, both into the Earth and memory. It carves a winding route through the forest and up bare rock to a promontory overlooking Tamdrup and the mouth of the fjord—a place you frequent to look for sails on the horizon when the men are away, a place where Harald promised he would marry you one day what now feels like a lifetime ago.

But the morning fog has yet to lift from the land, just as the fog of bitterness in the aftermath of what happened in Paris has yet to lift from your husband and king. There has been no feast to honor the memory of those lost since his return several days ago and no promise or mention of what comes next for the Vestfold. It is as though he is lost in despair, mourning his brother already despite the day-by-day recovery—just yesterday, Halfdan’s fever broke.

You sit atop one of the boulders there on the promontory. There’s space enough for him to join you, but, for a moment, he lingers and stares. In the morning the light and mist, you seem like one of the winged women—ethereal. A sight that makes his heart twist and ache given the dark thoughts and mood which have taken hold of him since returning to Tamdrup.

Harald sits next to you and hangs his head, letting his hand rest on your thigh—a gentle weight and warmth. “I fear I have not been a good husband,” he confesses. It is never an easy thing for a prideful man to admit weakness and accept his faults, less so for a king. But the failed siege, his brother’s injury, and the long months spent away from you, from home, have been a heavy weight on his heart.

It does not feel right, leaving you time and time again, each longer than the last, to rule over his lands and care for his people—duties which are his. But you rule so fairly, and his people love you for it. “I have left you too often,” he breathes, a new softness and the tremble of guilt in his voice. “And I have left you to carry a burden meant to be shouldered by two backs” —his hand runs across your shoulders, down your spine— “not one.”

You never expected being wife to a king—being a queen—would be easy. Least of all, the wife of an ambitious man with dreams of uniting Norway under a single crown. Harald Finehair is vikingr. To deny him that would be to deny his true self, and even on the loneliest and coldest of nights, you could and would never ask him to be anything other than who he is—the man you love.

“I knew what was expected of me” —you card your fingers through his beard, the first tinges of silver beginning to appear, and he can find nothing but underserved doting affection in your soft gaze— “of you, when we married.” Harald covers your hand with his own, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your palm as his hand curls around yours, a sigh on his lips. “And I happily said yes, remember?” 

He remembers the day you married well—the crown of spring wildflowers you wore, the blood-tinged kiss after exchanging rings, the bridal race with Halfdan and your cousins tripping over one another to get to the mead hall first. It is still the happiest day of his life—tied with every other day the gods let him wake up beside you.  

Shifting, you lean your forehead against his and gently slip your hand free from his. “You will always have my love and support, wherever you may be.” Harald closes his eyes and curls his hand around the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath your ear. And you press your hand against the center of his chest—feeling the outline of the Mjölnir necklace under your palm. “And I will be here or at your side,” you tell him, a soft whisper dancing over his lips, “wherever you need me to be.” And now he’s certain—you are too good to him.

[Harald-Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @hereforreadandwrite / @moonlightsspirit / @morganamayne / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenyalo / @rigshak / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Murder Bro taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form! if I missed you, I am sorry! but make sure to mention it in the replies or fill out the linked Google Form!

[lacrimae23]

oliver queen is in love | one shot ✦ ao3

[forever-rogue]

Paper Rings - B.H.

Summary: Paper Rings inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name. It’s glimpses into some sweet and funny moments over the course of Y/N and Ben’s relationship.

A/N: No one asked for it, but here it is anyway, because I’m a sucker for this song (and let’s be real, the whole Lover album). I hope you guys enjoy! It’s a lot of sweet fluff featuring our favorite soft boy.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: None

MASTERLIST

PAPER RINGS

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Psst,” your friend Jenna nudged your arm as she tried to get your attention. You snapped back into attention, tearing your attention away from the moon as you met her eyes. There glittering with mischievousness and you wondered what she was up to, “while you’ve been off day dreaming, you’ve missed the best part.”

“And just what might that be?” you asked, intrigued by her choice of words. Reaching up, she gently grabbed your chin and turned your head, glancing across the backyard you were all crowded into and urged you to follow her line of sight.

“Him,” she whispered, eyes landing on a blonde boy who had quickly turned away when he realized he had been caught, his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of crimson, “he’s eyeing you up all night. Poor lad’s got it bad for you I’m afraid. It’s like he’s never seen a woman before.”

“Me?” you almost burst into laughter at the thought that the beautiful boy could ever find you attractive, “him? You’re a fool. Besides, isn’t that Ben Jones? I’ve heard-”

“What you’ve heard means nothing,” she insisted, “he’s a nice guy, Y/N. I wouldn’t be friends with him if he wasn’t. Just go over and talk to him. What could go wrong with just a little talking?”

“The fact that I might go over and waste my time and make a fool out of myself,” you insisted, “he’s not into me, he was probably into you. I mean-”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she insisted, “he wasn’t even sparing me a glance. And now, well...make your conclusions.”

The last part was rushed and spoken under her breath as she turned away, leaving you confused, until a large shadow blocked your view. You looked up and came face to face with Ben, who was smiling at you, a nervous expression written on his face. 

“H-hi,” he managed to stammer out, his voice cracking with even the simple word, “I’m Ben.”

“I know who you are,” the words were out of your mouth before you could even think about them and they should a little more harsh than intended, “everyone does. I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” he repeated, giving you the same look tone back, “we have a lot of friends in common.”

“Of course,” you laughed at yourself, “now tell me, what can I do for you?”

“You want to grab a beer?” he asked, feeling more bold than he anticipated. You raised an eyebrow at the beer that was nestled in your hand, and blush crept into his cheeks as he realized his gaff, “somewhere more private I mean?”

“Yes,” it was an easy answer despite your nerves, as Jenna cheered on besides you. She eagerly grabbed your beer and gave you a push in his direction, “come on, let’s go before people decide to invite themselves along.”

The moon is high Like your friends were the night that we first met Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Come on, love,” Ben’s use of that word nearly knocked you off your feet. You know he didn’t mean it any special way, but it still tugged on your heartstrings a little bit, a flurry of butterflies stirring in your stomach. Your whole gang was out, celebrating yet another birthday, but you had been the target of Ben’s affection. He was sat next to you, nudging your leg with his as you he tried to get you to look at him. You glanced at him briefly, giving him a tight lipped smile before turning your attention back to the drink in front of you. 

You’d been avoiding him, more or less, for close to a month, sure that it was for the best, that’s what you kept insisting to yourself anyway. Ben, however, did not think it was for the best, and had been trying to get you to notice him that entire time. Not that you hadn’t noticed, you most definitely had, but you were positive that avoiding him altogether was the best choice. Now one else agreed with you, including Jenna, who kept pushing the two of you together. It would always be the two of you that ended up together, with everyone else suddenly disappearing. How convenient. 

Ben had seemed to have no problem with it, but you gave him the cold shoulder, answering any question he asked with simple response and often refusing to make conversation. You had a nagging feeling in the pit that just told you that getting involved with Ben was a bad idea and that you’d be hurt. So instead of even trying, you figured you might as well just let go of any idea of trying and just keep to yourself instead. That was the smart thing to do after all, right?

“Ben,” you hissed under your breath, keeping a sharp eye out to make sure that no one was watching the two of you, lest anyone get any ideas about the two of you, “knock it off.”

“Knock what off?” he asked, his tone playful although you could tell there was a note of seriousness under his tone. You turned away from him, angling your body in the opposite direction. 

“You know what I mean,” you insisted, picking up your wine and taking a long sip, “you’re being-”

“Insistent,” he admitted, an almost self satisfied little smirk making his way into his face, “is there a reason you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for the last month? Is it something I did?”

The way he had asked his sentence was enough to make your head snap in his direction as he gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes imaginable. That alone was almost enough to break your resolve. It’s just Ben, the little voice inside your head reminded you, what could go wrong?

“N-no,” you lied, your grip tightening on the glass, sure if you squeezed any hard the glass would just shatter in your hands. You were never a good liar, and he could spot the lie easily. He leaned back in his seat, clearing his throat as he waited for a better answer. You squeezed your eyes shut for just a moment before letting out a slow sigh, “Ben...it’s just...you and I...we’d never work. And I’m afraid that if I give myself the chance that this would all need up as a big mess.”

“Y/N,” he said, leaning forward and putting his hand on your knee, giving it a light squeeze, “how could you possibly know that? You never know what could happen with us. But do you know how you’ll find out?”

“Hmm?” you asked, trying not to panic at the feeling of his large hand on your knee. It was like his touch was electric and sending sparks throughout your body. 

“If you try,” he finished and you stiffened; you had a feeling this was going to be his response, but hearing the words from his mouth was something different. It was almost shocking that someone like him could be so interested in you. He was Ben, this beautiful, smart, kind man, was going after you; he wasn’t interested in anyone else, there was just you. He removed his hand and leaned closer to you, so he was almost whispering in your ear, “what do you say, love? Give me one chance. One chance is all I’m asking for.”

“One chance?” you asked as you looked at him and he gave a small, hopeful nod.

“Just one chance,” he agreed, “and if it’s truly that awful, you will never have to deal me with again.”

“Okay,” you agreed, your resolve dissipating more with each second. You turned to look at Ben and saw that he had the biggest of grins on his face, “can you just tell me one thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Why me? I’m sure there are a million other girls you could have, girls that practically throw themselves at you,” you mused thoughtfully, “yet you choose to pursue me. Why so?”

“Why not?” he ventured back, “I’m not interested in those girls. I’m interested in you.”

“I’m just-”

“You’re you. That’s all that matters,” he shrugged simply, “I don’t want to see anyone else, plain and simple. Besides all of that, I like a little bit of a challenge.”

“Oh? Is that all you see me as? A challenge?” you teased, raising your eyebrow at him.

“No,” he responded quickly, “I-I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Relax,” you giggled at him, “I’m only joking. You like a challenge and I like to taunt. It’s only fair, don’t you think? Now, tell me, dear Ben, just how do you plan to woo and wow me on this one and only chance?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, carding his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind, “but don’t worry, you’ll definitely be wine and dined and wooed.”

“Bring it on, Jones, bring it on.”

The wine is cold Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street Cat and mouse for a month or two or three Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Ben! You’re insane!” you managed to choke out between giggles as Ben ran out into the backyard, stripping off his shirt and joggers. He stopped and gave you a grin as he was left standing in only his boxers and looked between you and the pool.

“It’ll be fun!” he insisted although you weren’t so sure. It was freezing and the cold weather had seemingly arrived overnight. Of course Ben had decided it was the perfect time to jump in the pool late at night, throwing caution to the window.

“Fun!?” you shouted in response as you pulled your sweater tighter around yourself, “we’re going to freeze! It’s winter, you loon!”

“Baby,” he stuck his bottom lip out, giving you the most pouty of looks, “I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”

“In the freezing pool?” you questioned him and he just nodded. He did seem to run warm, and you often called him your personal heater, but you weren’t sure how that would translate to the pool.

“Yes,” he insisted, “come on, let’s live a little!”

You gave him a dramatic sigh as you slowly started to strip off your multiple layers, the smile on Ben’s face growing. When you were down to your bra panties, he held his arms out to you.

“If I freeze, it’s all on you,” you reminded him as you poked his chest. He nodded softly, and started to wrap his arms around you when you got a wicked idea. Instead of giving in and letting him hug you, you put your hands on his chest and pushed him back. He let out a squeak of surprise as he fell into the pool and was submerged in the icy water.

“Y/N! What the hell!?” he almost shouted as he resurfaced, trying to maintain a serious facade, even though he laughing too, “that was so dirty!”

“I never said I played fair,” you teased as you watched him, quickly ducking out of the way as he tried to splash you, “hey! Mr. Jones, please control yourself!”

“You started it,” he insisted, swimming over to the edge of the pool and leaning up on his arms, “are you going to come and join me or are you just going to stare?”

“Not much to stare at,” you joked, sticking your tongue out at him, “what’s to say I don’t just grab my clothes and leave?”

“I know you would never,” he insisted, tilting his head to the side and looking at you like a little puppy. It was hard to say no to that face, and made you wonder for a moment why you ever considered saying no to him.

You walked over to him, sitting down and leaned over to give him a soft kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips as he reached up and put a hand on your face.

“Come on babe,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “the water’s perfect.”

“Probably freezing!”

“Nah,” he promised, “I’ll keep you warm. Come on, what’ve you got to lose? And don’t even start with listing every single one of your limbs.”

“How easily you see right through me,” you sat on the ground down and stuck out your legs, dipping them into the pool. To your surprise it wasn’t early as cold you had imagined. Ben came over and put his hands around your ankles, attempting to pull you further in, “do you really need the whole body?”

“All of it,” he insisted and paused for a moment before you gave and hopped into the pool, deciding to go all at once so you could get it over with. You quickly tried resurfaced, holding out your arms in a ta-da sort of gesture.

“Happy now?” you asked as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his body. Despite the cold water, his body still radiated heat, and helped to warm you up.

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes and burrowed your face into his shoulder, “I guess this isn’t so terrible.”

He remained silent for a few moments before trailing a few kisses along the side of your head. He stopped quickly, and you could feel his body tensing up ever so slightly, “can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you responded quickly, pulling back and looking at him. You reached over and put your hand under his chin and tried to get him to look at you. There was a bit of nervousness behind his soft, sage eyes, “Ben, what’s wrong?”

“I…please don’t freak out,” he finally met your eyes, pausing for only a moment before putting one of his hands on the side of your face, studying your features intently, “but...I-I love you.”

You’d been going out for a while, but neither of you had said those words to each other yet. Not that you didn’t feel that way, you just had been nervous to say them to him, in the off chance that he didn’t feel the same.

“What?” you asked quietly, so quietly that weren’t even sure you had said anything, looking at him with wide eyes. He grew nervous, almost as if anticipating that you were going to reject him, when in reality you were just trying to process the fact he could possibly feel that way about you, “you love me?”

“Yes,” he breathed out anxiously, a big grin on his face, “I think I’ve known for a long time...actually, it’s probably since the time you rejected me.”

“I never rejected you,” you tilted your head to the side and gave him a curious look as he just started to laugh.

“You have too!” he insisted, “how long did it take for me to convince you to go out with me? You gave me the cold shoulder for what seemed like an eternity. You were scared that things were going to work out...I hope you don’t feel that way anymore.”

“No,” you answered honestly. And it was true - you hadn’t questioned your affections for Ben or your relationship with him even once. He had been right from the beginning, that he would never do anything to hurt you, and you were glad that he had finally convinced you to give him a chance, “I haven’t regretted a single moment with you. I know I was really reluctant at the beginning, and yes, admittedly I gave you the cold shoulder, but I’m really glad you did whatever you did to finally convince me.”

“Does that mean I haven’t ruined the moment by professing my love to you? Or seem weird because I feel like I just knew?” his voice had a bit of a shaky quality to it as he splashed some water around, staring at the ripples with a determined intensity.

“No, Ben, you absolutely have ruined nothing,” you promised him and he visibly relaxed. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours, grazing his lips ever so slightly over yours, “I love you. Truly, I do.”

“Really?” he seemed surprised by your response, almost as if he hadn’t been expecting it at all, “I’m so glad...I was so nervous about telling. Like what if had all gone wrong or you didn’t feel the same for some reason?”

“Were you actually worried? You thought I might not feel the same way?”

“I mean yeah, of course I did,” he chuckled lightly, “I mean it’s you. How lucky I must be to be loved by someone like you.”

“Would it be silly to tell you I was worried about the exact same thing?” you were shocked that you had caused him to be nervous or worried. This was Ben after all, gorgeous, amazing, kind, funny, sweet Ben. But here he was - starstruck due to you.

“So let me get this straight - we’re both silly fools and we’re both in love with each other?”

“Yes, I think that hits the nail on the head,” you looked at each other before dissolving into fits of giggles, “I suppose all it took to finally admit our feelings was jumping into a freezing pool!”

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” he winked, “whatever big thing I do next, it’s going to be hard to top this!”

“I have a feeling you’ll continually surprise me, my love,” you giggled at him, “I look forward to all of our moments that are yet to come.”

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool When you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue Which takes me back To the color that we painted your brother's wall Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws We wouldn't be standing here so proud

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What?” you asked as you turned your head to the side, a smile stretching across your face as you met Ben’s eyes. You quickly took your hand and ran it over your face to make sure there was nothing sticking anymore. You’d just finished a sticky, sweet bowl of ice cream and were sure there had to be some sort of residue somewhere - why else would Ben be watching you so intently? The lighting was dim in the bedroom, only a few candles on, accompanied by some fairy lights and the glow of the television screen. It had been a long week for the two of you and the decision to spend the evening in bed watching Netflix hand been an easy decision. 

“Nothing,” Ben insisted softly, taking a hand and touching your cheek gently, thumb rubbing across your cheekbone. His soft eyes seemed to glitter in the low lighting, as he looked at you like you were the reason for all the stars in the night sky, “I just really love you. And I’m continually reminded of that fact.”

“I love you too, Ben,” you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, stunned by the fact that his words still had the power to make you feel butterflies even after several years together, “but you know that. Always have and always will.”

“Not always,” he reminded you, and the two of you shared a soft laugh, “I’m pretty sure you weren’t so fond of me when we first met. Or have you forgotten that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, crossed your arms and trying to hide the smile that was working its way on your face. Ben scoffed as he reached over and pulled you into his arms, positioning you so you were straddling his lap, “now you’re just playing first dirty, and unfair!”

“I’m just playing to my strengths,” he insisted, leaning up and giving you a soft kiss, “and you just happen to be my weakness and strength.” 

“Such a sap,” you teased, putting a finger to his lips and pushing him back down, “now, tell me what’s got you all like this? You’re even more sweet than normal, tell me my love, are you trying to catch flies?”

“No,” he shrugged his shoulders innocently, reaching over into his nightstand and pulling something small out, closing his hand around it, “do you remember what you told me once?”

“Care to be a little more specific?” you teasing, grabbing his hand and trying to pry it open, but he remained steadfast, gripping it tighter than you thought possible, “what, you’re just not going to show me?” 

“Not until you remember, darling,” he beamed at you with that smile you’d fallen in love with years ago, “I remember those words very clearly.”

“I-I don’t…” you tried to rack your brain but the specific instance he was referring to you just wasn’t coming to your mind, “help me out here, I’m drowning.”

“Since you asked so sweetly,” he used his clasped his hand and opened it, quickly slipping the item into your palm. You let out a small sound of delight as you examined it closely. It was just a small circlet of tightly wrapped paper, but large enough for your finger, “do you remember now?”

“It’s a paper ring,” you could feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. A small laugh escaped your lips; it had been a long time since you had uttered those words, but they were still true to this day.

“You had so much wine, and you were giggly,” he recalled, “we’ve been together for just about a year, and we were at a party. You hugged me, and you whispered in my ear, or so you thought you were whispering when you were actually shouting-”

“I like shiny things-”

“But I’d marry you with paper rings,” he finished for you, taking the small ring and slipping it onto the ring finger of your left hand. You looked at it briefly, before lacing your fingers together together, “I want you to marry you, my love. I’d do it with this silly little ring, or the whatever ring you choose.”

“Ben...what are you saying?” you asked quietly, eyes widening. Was he asking what you think he was asking? He seemed to read your mind, and gave you a small nod.

“Will you marry me?” he asked softly, the words only loud enough for the two of you to hear, “I know this isn’t grand, or probably what you expected-”

“This is better,” you interrupted him, “this is perfect, because it’s just you and me, and nothing else. That’s all I need, Ben. And the fact that you remembered all those words from all that time ago? It means everything. Ben, of course I’ll marry you.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” you leaned down and kissed his soft lips a few times, “I’ll marry you, and I’d make that same choice over and over and over.”

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and Paper rings and picture frames and dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

»»————-　♡　————-««

You let out a low groan as you flopped down next to the toilet for what seemed like the millionth time that day. It had become a recurring event the past couple of weeks, and it seemed like there was no end in sight. At first you had chalked it up to food poisoning or even the flu. It seemed like everyone had been getting sick recently, and you’d been out with all of your friends recently, sure you’d caught something from one of them.

But when the sickness in the morning, and throughout the day didn’t seem to go away, you grew concerned, scared that it was something much worse. You went to the doctor, something you rarely did if you were feeling just somewhat under the weather, but Ben had insisted, saying that he didn’t want to see you suffering and miserable anymore. 

You’d expected that there was just something lingering in your system, but when you left the doctor’s office, your whole life had changed. It wasn’t news you had been expecting by any means, but you had broken down in tears, scared tears that quickly led way to happy tears.

“Love?” Ben poked his head into the bathroom, a concerned look on his face. You hadn’t realized he’d gotten home, and you anxiously wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you tried to jump up, “are you still feeling ill? I thought you were doing better?”

“I-I...mostly in the mornings I don’t feel so well,” you admitted, standing up and going over to sink and rinsing your mouth out. Ben’s eyes were glued to you as he watched your every move, waiting for a further explanation. 

“You went to the doctor, right?” he asked, brushing a few stray locks of hair behind your ear, “what did they say?”

“Well, they did tell what was wrong,” you admitted, wondering how long it would take him to put two and two together. You hadn’t told him yet, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal the big news, and it seemed like it was now. You had imagined it going very differently, when you were, you know, not in pajamas and looking worse for the wear, but it would suffice. It was a special moment with Ben after all, and that was what mattered. 

“What’s wrong? Will it go away, did they prescribe anything?”

“Umm, well it’ll take about another seven months to go away,” you trailed off, waiting to see that familiar glint in his eyes, “but for most people it lasts a lifetime.”

“What!?” his eyes grew wide with concern as tried to figure out what sort of disease had the symptoms that you were experiencing. You almost couldn’t hold back a snort as you prayed he’d figure it out on his own, “did they...is there treatment for it? What should we do?”

“Ben,” you put your hand on shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, “it’s okay. It’s nothing serious...I mean it is, but it’s a good thing. I think the weirdest thing to deal with will be the weight gain and waiting.”

“Weight gain? Waiting?” the gears were turning in his head as you waited for his light bulb moment, “wait...are you...are we...pregnant?”

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, watching as his face seemed to go through a thousand emotions at once. His hand went to his mouth as he finally seemed to properly process what you were saying, “I’m pregnant, Ben. We’re having a baby!”

“We’re having a baby,” he repeated as a few tears rolled down his cheeks. You felt the same wash of emotion wash over you as you reached over and gently wiped his tears away. You knew how much this meant to him, as much as it did to you; how much the two of you had been wanting to start, or expand rather, your little trio of you, Ben, and Frankie.

“Yes, my love,” you confirmed, getting about a second before he wrapped his arms around you and gave you a tight squeeze, burrowing his face into your shoulder, “that’s what was going. Morning sickness hit fast and hard. I don’t know why but I never thought it would be this...I was shocked when I left the doctor’s office. I was waiting for the perfect moment to tell you.”

“This,” he pulled back and touched your cheek gently, “is perfect.”

“I look like a flaming heap of trash, and I’ve just gone and barfed my guts out,” you laughed at him, but his adoring look was unwavering as he shook his head, “I think this is far from perfect.”

“But it’s not, and no matter what you look like, which is always beautiful, and no matter what the circumstances are, you’re always the best thing to happen to me,” he insisted, “we’ve had many moments together, not all easy or wonderful, but they’re perfect. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because they’re our moments,” he whispered, “and that’s enough to make them perfect. I love you, you know.”

“I know,” you promised him, “I’m glad you still feel that way considering you’ve married me and now knocked me up. Because believe it or not, I love you too.”

“Knocked you up?” he threw back his head with laughter, “you make it sound so dirty-”

“I mean it usually is, isn’t it?” you feigned innocence as you bit your lip and wiggled your eyebrows at him, “are you happy, Ben? Truly?”

“Is that even remotely a question?” Ben placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “of course I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. The only other days that come close to this were the day I told you I loved you, the day I asked you to marry me, and the day we got married. But this? This is on a whole other level. So yes, I’m happy. Very, very happy.”

“Good,” you sighed contently, “because I’m very very happy too.”

“Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” he asked you as picked you up gently and set you down on the counter. He gently lifted up your shirt, revealing your still normal belly, looked at it with a look you’d never seen before. It was a look of pure love and excitement, and it was enough to send another wave of emotion to wash over you. He put his hand on your abdomen, marveling at the fact that a little life that the two of you had created would soon be growing in there, “you were so scared to even go out with me in the first place, and now look at us. We’ve having a baby.”

“We’re having a baby,” you echoed, “Little Bean Jones.”

“You now that’s almost cute,” he said as he leaned forward and placed the most gentle of kisses to your bare skin, “I can’t wait  to meet you, Little Bean. I love you and your Mumma more than anything in this entire world.”

“Are you trying to make me cry?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tears at bay. It was no use though, and tears were soon sliding down your cheeks, “because it’s working.”

“Only happy tears,” he stated as he wiped them away, “only happy tears, my love.”

“Only happy tears."

You're the one I want, one I want You're the one I want, one I want

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

can i req an autistic joger fic where one accidentally harms the other while having a meltdown and tries super hard to make it up to the other? kinda reflecting here, sorry

There’s fire everywhere and I can’t breathe and I can’t feel but I feel everything and it all hurts and everything hurts. It hurts it hurt it hurt it hurts. 

There’s blurs of lights and crashes of thunder and there’s so much pain in the air I can smell it and there’s a sea on my face and it stings. 

I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!

Red. So much red! Like fire. Fire on my arms.

There’s so much of everything and nothing at all! My throat is frozen and nobody is helping me!

Nobody at all.

♚

John took in a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he steeled his nerves. He let go of the puff of air, eye’s opening even though he wanted them to stay shut. 

Before him was a volcano. He first took in the screams that fell like ash around him. Deep guttural screams that were dark and clung to his skin, making it crawl. 

Next was the lava, slowly pooling onto the ground. Strands of blond littered the floor, burning into the carpet of their bed room, making an ever growing puddle around the volcano himself in the middle of it all.

Roger sputtered and shook, paced and thrashed. He squealed and howled as he threw the bedside lamp onto the floor, the glass shattering making John jump.

A fist pounded onto his chest, his red, tear streaked face letting out another wail. Before his mouth could close, it latched onto his scarred forearm, teeth sinking into the flesh with a chilling squelch. 

John had no idea what had happened. He didn’t know what triggered this. He’d went out to get some groceries, buying Roger his favorite brand of crisps and when he came back, all he heard was ear curdling chaos from upstairs. 

He thought he might have stepped on those crisps when he dropped everything to run to their room.

It was a sight he rarely ever saw. 

Of the two, John was more prone to melt downs. Roger for some reason was able to handle most things with nothing more than a smile. It was something John admired. It wasn’t something either of them were able to control, but John thought it must be nice to never lose control. 

Losing control every blue moon meant things built up, though. Roger’s meltdowns were intense and most of all, dangerous. 

There was blood smudged around Roger’s mouth, his arm trickling with some more. He didn’t notice. 

He had hair fibers all over him and a bald patch to show it. 

John bet that once this was all over and he was in the bath, he’d find bruises on his battered lover. 

But how to make it end was the question John had to deal with now. It wasn’t like he dealt with this often enough to consider himself an expert. Everyone’s meltdowns were different. The off switch was like a snowflake. 

Roger screeched, fists flying to his black and blue forehead, smacking against them. 

John had to act quickly. There was absolutely no letting this run it’s course. Roger was in pain. The thought made his stomach shrink.

“S-Sweetheart. Roger. Do you hear me?” John said, taking cautious steps closer to Roger. He didn’t want to startle him. He knew when he had a meltdown, every movement terrified him. He wondered if Roger was the same. 

♚

Brain’s on fire. Burning. Burning. Smoke everywhere.

I’m drowning. I can’t think I can’t see I can’t do anything.

I hurt so bad. Everything is pain. 

I can’t stop myself.

I’m not myself. I’m not myself.

Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop

♚

Roger didn’t notice John’s approach, yelling as he tore off the bedsheets and crumpled them to the floor. 

John swallowed hard. He’d never done this alone. He hoped he was strong enough. Physically and mentally. 

“Roger, please. Y-You need to calm down. I can help. We can go somewhere else. To the bathroom. You like the echoes, remember?” he said, skirting even closer to Roger. 

John knew during meltdowns, most people couldn’t process speech. And he wasn’t sure if sound was the reason for Roger’s meltdown. But what else could he do? He could only try to diffuse this. Before Roger would need stitches. 

Roger hunched over, arms wrapped around himself in a hug, sobbing so hard he gagged. John took this as the only opportunity he’d get to overpower Roger. 

He closed in, hands hooking around Roger’s waist. Maybe if he could drag him into another room, change the scenery, the environment, he’d start to settle down. Maybe.

But Roger was much stronger than John, Much stronger. 

His skin cringed before he ripped John’s arms away from him. The only thing John remembered was how Roger’s blue eyes looked so scared. So lost and confused. Like a little kid who’s just lost their parents in a store. 

He didn’t even notice Roger’s mouth latching onto his hand, ripping into the flesh of his palm until his brain caught up to what was happening. With a small gasp, he yanked his hand away, Roger’s saliva making the wound immediately start to sting. 

John stared down at his hand as Roger stalked off to continue going through possibly his worst meltdown.

To be honest, John wasn’t a fan of pain. 

To be honest, John didn’t know how to handle pain.

If we’re being honest, John panicked.

He walked stiffly into the master bathroom and locked himself inside. 

It was clear he didn’t know what to do. If anything, he agitated Roger more. He felt miserable for leaving Roger alone when he needed his help the most, but his brain froze. 

At least in the bath, he could still hear Roger. Make sure he was safe. That was all he could do and he felt horrible. 

It was an hour before things quieted down. John heard very soft crying and whimpering, and panting that eventually slowed. 

John opened the door just a crack and then all the way.

The pillows were torn at the seams, feathers coating the floor and bed. The bed was pushed off the bed frame. There was a hole in the wall by the door. And amongst it all was Roger curled up into a ball, face pressed into the carpet.

John crossed the room, making his presence known to the other as to not spook him.

With his hand throbbing, he knelt by the pile that was his boyfriend and said,

“Roger, honey. You’ve done so well. You’ve gotten yourself out of that so well. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you now,”

Roger shakily looked up, wet lashes and glassy eyes breaking John’s heart. John wiped away a tear and kissed his forehead gently.

♚

John poured a cup of warm water over Roger’s tender head as the blond sat in the tub, knees hugged to his chest. John hummed softly, massaging away the dried blood, kissing each bruise and washing every cut. It was all he could do. He kept thinking that.

“You can sleep after this, Rog. I’ll make you some dinner for when you wake up. Bought you your favorite crisps. You deserve them,” John said, making small talk as he scrubbed Roger’s back of all the sweat. The tub water was soapy and pink. 

He used his other hand to lean against the tub and it skidded over some soap. The open wound on his palm stung when it touched soap, causing John to pull back and hiss. He inspected it for a moment, knowing he’d have to go to the hospital eventually, but hid his hand, not wanting Roger to see it. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have to know.

But Roger was sharp. Even in this state. He snatched John’s hand into his own, pulling it close to himself. His words were still jumbled and coming back, but he was able to squeak, “Me?!”

John pulled his hand back, shaking his head. “No. Not at all,” he said, eyes falling towards the floor. He was a bad liar. Roger knew that. And he didn’t believe him. He hugged his knees closer to his chest, bruised forehead resting on his knees. He couldn’t hide the little cry that escaped his lips.

♚

“Does it hurt?” Roger asked as he held John’s hand, calloused fingers soothing down the wrinkled bandages. 

John shook his head, scooting closer to Roger on their bed. The sheets smelled like detergent. 

“Nope. The doctor cleaned it up, gave me a shot and bandaged it. Can barely feel it,” John said, his eyes crinkling into a smile. 

That was another lie. When John hurt, that’s all he could think about. But what good did it do to tell Roger? As long as he himself didn’t have a meltdown over this, it could be his little secret. 

It’d been a day since the incident. Roger was still recovering, barely able to leave the bed, so John joined him whenever he could.

“How are you feeling?” John asked, freeing his hand so he could brush some locks out of Roger’s face. 

Roger bit his lip, staying quiet for a moment. His mind raced with answers but he only said, “It doesn’t matter,” before resting his head against the new pillow, pulling the covers over his chin. 

John sighed. Roger wouldn’t let this go. He’d been apologizing all night and all day for the bite. He couldn’t get over what he’d done.

And although John didn’t hold an ounce of contempt for what happened, Roger kept beating himself up. He couldn’t be consoled. 

John slunk down so he was face to face with Roger.

“I always hurt people during my meltdowns. And I feel bad, but, I know I didn’t mean it. I..have to be kind to myself,” John said, reflecting on how sometimes he’d lunge at people unknowingly when he was in that state. 

“Yeah, but you’ve never left a mark. You slap like a girl,” Roger said, the last part a slip of the tongue. 

John would ignore the insult and continued.

“And? I’ve hurt the people I love. Whether it scars, it’s all the same, isn’t it? And they forgive me. You forgive me. Every single time. You say you’re not even mad. And that makes me feel so much better. So good. Like sunshine in my tummy. Why won’t you let me do that for you?” John said, a finger from his wounded hand stroking Roger’s still reddened cheek. 

Roger’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the touch. 

“I don’t deserve it. You,” he said, leaning more and more into John’s hand.

 “You do,” John said, Roger’s warm breath tickling his nose. 

“I forgive you. Forever. For always. I love you, Rog,” John added, closing the gap between them with a soft kiss to the lips. 

Roger resisted at first but eventually melded against John’s plush unbruised lips. 

“I love you, Deacy,”

“I love you, Rog. And I don’t slap like a girl,”

“Shh, shh, we’re kissing,”

[i-am-the-gay-shit]

My only Sun - Chapter 6 ‘How it feels to Suffer’

Alright! Here is chapter 6~ This chapter takes place (mostly) in Brian's past. Showing how he became a creature of the night. I'm starting to introduce the more supernatural area of this story. Bare with me. I realize a lot of people have their own ideas about how Vampires work and all that, but I'm going off my thoughts/beliefs. This chapter doesn't go into detail on how Brian was completely changed (like the process), but it will be a topic discussed in later chapters. Enjoy<3

Click this link to be directed to the full story

London England, Late Summer of 1707

266 years ago

"Brian, dearest. Do be careful on this night... There have been the strangest happenings around as of late. Especially in the dark hours..." Brian smiled softly as he looked back at his worried mother. She was always so worried and it showed on her face. The gently wrinkles that were visible under her own brown curls.

"I'll be safe, mother. You needn't worry about me." Brian assures her with a kiss to her cheek. "I'll be home before the midnight hour. I promise." He says, putting his guitar around his shoulders.

"Alright, dear... Do keep your promise. You know how I worry..." Ruth smiles sadly up at her boy. Wondering how he grew up so quickly...

Brian flashes her a sad smile before walking out the door and into the dirty streets of London. As he walked the familiar streets, he couldn't help but imagine what the rest of the world must hold. Brian absolutely despised this city. The smell of shit in the air, trash everywhere, and the foul people. He couldn't wait for the day he could leave this place... and he would never... ever.... Look back.

But he knew traveling would have to wait. For his mother was frail and needed him. It worried Brian... He hated to see his mother in this state. It all started after his father had passed a few years back. The entire case around his father's death was... suspicious to say the least. No one could find any answers to how he died. Many people have come up with their own theories, but his mother seemed to have her mind made up. Saying things like creatures that walk the night and demons in shape of a human . These things, she believed, killed his father. Of course, Brian didn't know what to make of this, but many men thought she was mad and needed to be locked away. Brian couldn't have that. Not to his sweet mother. She just had... her own way of coping...

"Brian!" Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he looked up and saw a pretty girl with hair as dark as night. Her brown eyes glimmering.

"Ah, Lucia. Good to see you today. I missed you yesterday." He smiles, walking to the small woman.

"Ah, yes. Well. My skin is rather sensitive. When it's sunny, like yesterday, I do not fare too well. That's kind of why I enjoy London so much. It's hardly ever sunny." She hums, smiling with her pretty pink lips.

"I wasn't aware the sun affected you so... Don't you like the sun though? The clouds make me a little sad..." Brian laughs softly. He couldn't think about a life without the sun. He absolutely loved the warmth and wished to travel to a place where it was always sunny.

"I enjoy the darkness of the clouds." Lucia says, gazing at the sky before looking at Brian. "Well... to each his own." Brian shrugs. Everybody has their own opinion. He thinks.

She giggles. "Yes, I suppose... Are you going to play at the square today? May I sing with you once more?" Lucia tilts her head, her black hair falling beautiful around her shoulders.

"I would be honored if you sang with me, Ms. Lucia." He smiles ear to ear, offering her his arm before walking to the crowded square. It was busy, like everyday. Stalls of fish, fabric, and other sellable goods. People pushing and yelling as they tried to push through. Brian could only shake his head at the people.

"One day, society will kills itself..." Brian mumbles to himself as he makes his way to the fountain in the middle of the market area. Sitting on the edge while Lucia jumped onto the edge happily, twirling elegantly. Brian smiles softly before he turns his guitar and positions it in his arms. He takes a moment to gently rub the neck, his fingers brushing against the name engraved in the wood. Harold May .

Closing his eyes, he began to strum a soft tune and he heard Lucia's sweet voice start to sing along to the familiar hymn. Though, his thoughts soon blocked everything out as he thought of his father. Playing his father's guitar always made him feel... like he was there with him... The man had taught Brian how to play when he was just a boy. All 3 of them use to perform together. He remembered his mother had such a beautiful and full voice. She used to love to sing... But after his father... Only Brian played music now.

Opening his eyes, he smiled as he saw the group of people around them. Smiling, singing, and swaying along to the music. Only music could do this. Take a group of foul, unhappy people and give them a reason to smile and get along. Brian loved the harmony music created...

He played while Lucia sang for what felt like only a moment. The sun slowly began to shy away behind the horizon, people came and they left, and Brian couldn't be happier. But he knew he needed to head home. So he stood up and gave a smile to Lucia.

"I thank you for the company, but I should be headed home." He sighs softly.

"...Your mother. She seems like a burden on you." Lucia says simply, hopping of the edge of the fountain. Brian felt a small flicker of anger inside him from her comment.

"She's not. I love my mother and would do anything for her." Brian comments, slightly bitterly. He hated how people talked down about his mother...

"....Hm.... Anything?" She tilts her head and her eyes seemed grow darker. Brian felt slightly uncomfortable by the way she asked, but shook his head.

"Anything... Goodnight, Ms. Lucia." He says softly, giving a small smile before turning and walking his usual path home.

Anything?

Those words kept flowing through his head and he couldn't shake them away. He couldn't help but feel unease... He'd known Lucia for a little over a month. She had just moved here, and was pretty nice. Though... He noticed... differences about her. How she stayed in during sunny days and how her eyes almost changed color. She seemed entertained by the talk of morbid and dark topics, unlike any lady... or human... he'd ever known...

Creatures that walk the night

Brian walked faster, the uneasy feeling spreading through him. He had heard stories of creatures . They feasted on human blood and were cold to the touch... Lucia's touch was always cold...

Demon in shape of a human

He was running by now. Brian knew deep down he was overreacting... These things didn't exist. But he felt something was wrong. They way Lucia's eyes glimmered and that comment...

Anything? She had asked...

Creatures don't exist. Demon's don't exist. Not here...

But If not here... then where? A voice inside him contradicted.

Anywhere but here... Brian prayed silently.

Running past the dark alleys, Brian felt his heart pumping. He felt like someone... some thing was watching him. He couldn't shake the feeling. Slowing down, he approached his home and felt his heart stop.

The door is open

Perhaps mother... wanted fresh air...

Brian knew that wasn't the case, but he didn't want to think of any other reason as slowly made his way to the open door.

"Mother... I'm home..." His voice was barely above a whisper, but he prayed to god that he would have an answer.

Stepping into the small, front area of their home he saw her . Holding his mother to her chest. Swaying softly while singing a sweet hymn. And when she opened her eyes, he was met by a deep blood red instead of brown.

"Lucia..."

"Hello, Brian..." She smiles, not hiding the abnormal teeth of hers. "You know... I thought you were such a cutie... I haven't met a human like you in many years. It's rare for a human to be as sweet as you. But unfortunately, the nicest are the easiest prey." She giggles, petting his mother's hair softly.

"Please... we've already suffered-" "Suffered? You think you've suffered?" Lucia laughs. "You don't know the meaning of the word. Suffering... Heh. I think I'd like to see you suffer, actually. Such a nice... positive young man like you. You truly are filled with hope. It'd be amazing to watch you slowly break and submit to the darkness." She hums darkly, dropping his mother's body. The loud thud of her body hitting the ground echoed in Brian's head.

"I think... I know just what to do." She smirks, swaying toward the tall man. Brian quickly raises his hand to hit her away, but she firmly grasps him before he can make contact. Her cold, deathly strong grip shocks Brian.

"Did you think that would work?" She giggles. " Cute ." Her voice darkens as she yanks Brian down to the ground before kneeling beside him.

Brian's head was forced to the side and he couldn't move under her strength. His eyes gazed at his mother's body and watched her breathe softly.

"Don't worry... she'd not dead. Yet. " Lucia whispers in his ear before licking down his neck.

After that, Brian could only remember that piercing pain. His vision went black and he couldn't hear a thing, but he felt his mouth open and his throat clenched tightly as if he were screaming. He felt like he was on fire and the pain only spread and worsened.

He didn't know how long this happened, his brain was rushing and everything was dizzy. But he soon felt the pressure release from his neck and something drip down onto his own lips.

" Bite." he heard someone command.

Bite...

Bite...?

He couldn't remember what or who he bit... no... but he felt a hunger like no other surge into his body as he felt a thick liquid trickle down his throat before his body started to spaz and shut itself down...

I'm... dying...?

The pain was real enough, it's all he could focus on as his body struggled to function with the low amount of blood in his system. But a blood curdling scream pierced into his ears and his eyes barely just opened enough to see his mother being bitten. Her body struggling and fighting against the monster that fed from her. It's all he could hear... his mother's voice, which used to sing so sweetly.... Screaming in such a way he had never heard...

Lucia pulled from the struggling body and stood up. Smirking over at Brian. The fresh blood streaming down her chin and staining the once pretty pink dress.

"Now, you will learn how it is to suffer." She giggles, stalking toward Brian. Eyes gleaming. "You will watch your mother struggle and die slowly. But you won't die. Oh no. I've given you my blood so you will live... but just barely~" She laughs out, dancing around his weak body.

" Brian... " He could hear his mother's struggling voice....

London, England, Early Winter of 1973

Present Day

"Brian." Freddie called out, walking toward the taller man who was standing in the snow, staring up at the moon like always. "When you're not with Roger, you're always here..." He hums softly.

Brian gives the older man a small sad smile.

"I feel close to them here..." He whispers, looking at the graveyard around before casting his eyes down to the tombstones at his feet.

Ruth Irving May 1646 - 1698 & Harold May 1644 - 1695

"Do you think they can see me now." "I do, Brian. I think they're looking after you... And I think they're happy to see you with Roger..." Freddie nods softly, patting his shoulder.

"You deserve some happiness after suffering in the darkness."

Suffering in the darkness...

Have I even truly suffered yet...?

[red-pens-and-ferns]

I absolutely love your story Life Behind the Picture. I finally found some of it today but I wish there was a way I could read all of it. Is there anyway you would ever repost the full story on ao3 or fanfiction,net?

I’m reposting it! (some chapters will be missing like 3 or so) 💚

[lalahbug]

Anything for You - Victor x Reader

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice Word Count: 997

My Masterlist

Warnings/disclaim: general None

Author’s Note: So eons ago, okay fine, being less dramatic, years ago. I held a contest for 500 watchers on DeviantArt, but life hit me and I stopped writing completely. It’s been years and I’m trying to uphold my word for the winners. So far, the only one who wants her prize is my dear sweet Venus. She’s been through everything with me, my thick and thin, my only true friend, my best friend. I’m so happy to do something for her for once, I hope you like this little fic you’ve earned it and so much more. I can’t wait until you’re out a school and being the amazing teacher I know you’ll be. You’ll be done with the woes and drama of idiotic professors soon, and upgrade to idiotic coworkers, but you’ll be where you want to~! I love you twinie and I thank I have you to always be there for me. I hope now that I’m more present in life, I can be there for you too.

For my twinie: @venulus​

___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person

Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. 

Story under cut

          Victor sighed in relief the moment he closed his door, to be home, off of business, ready to find his lover. He usually had contact with her at least twice a day while he was gone on business trips. But she didn’t answer any of his calls for the past week. Relieved to be home and to get an answer out his wife about her absence.

          He looked everywhere for her but to his dismay, she wasn’t home. A small fear built in his mind and he checked her closet. Clothes were there, but there was a small suitcase missing. As his thoughts raced at possibilities, he heard the front door and click of heels.

          Victor walked calmly as his heart pounded to the rhythm he wanted to walk to. He was a bit thrown off to see his love, clad in black, and solemnly sitting on the living room couch.

          Hesitantly he sat down next to her, she automatically leaned into him.

          “I missed you. How was your trip?” Her voice was weak, weary, defeated. Yet the care and love was there. Victor put aside his anger at her ignoring him, forgetting it even.

          “It would have been better if I had been able to talk to you those last few days.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder lovingly.

          “I’ll make it up to you,” her tone a bit playful, but the weakness was there.

          “What happened?”

          “My uncle passed away, the one I told you about. The one who watched us while my parents worked.”

          “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone to the funeral with you.”

          “I know you would have. But it was a very small gathering, only people listed in his will were allowed. You were already gone, I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

          “Dummy,” he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her securely. “You know better than that.”

          She sniffed a bit before leaning into him more, allowing the peace he always washed over her, to drown her.

          A few weeks had passed, Victor was swamped with work again, having to bring it home even. He didn’t mind normally, but ___ had been a bit distant with the family death weighing on her. Victor was getting ready to go home when he had a small glimmer of an idea. Taking out his phone he called Mr. Mills, asking him to do some shopping and to come in tomorrow evening.

          “Victor?” ___ called out as she entered Souvenir. But she was greeted by the loving smile of Mr. Mills.

  “Hello Mrs. Li, he would like your help in the kitchen if you don’t mind.” Mr. Mills offered to take her jacket as she came inside more.

          “Thank you Mr. Mills, do you need any help out here?”

          “That’s so kind of you, but no. Please just assist Mr. Li.” ___ gave him a small smile before going into the kitchen. Victor was already in the middle of his cooking. She put on her apron and tied up her hair before washing her hands and coming over to him.

          “What are we cooking tonight?” She smiled at him, a small light in her eyes, she loved to help him cook.

          “I need you to cut these potatoes, thinly preferably. The mandolin would be more consistent but you can cut them by hand if you want.”

          “You’re letting me choose?” Her eyes sparkled a bit, he smiled at her gently before nodding at her. She took out the chef’s knife and started immediately.

          Once she was done, she was rinsing the potato slices with cold water. She then cleaned the knife and cutting board. Next she laid out the potatoes in even layers to blot them with paper towels to get excess water.

          “What next?”

          “Nothing, the rest is a surprise.”

          “But-” Victor cut off her words by picking her up and setting her on the countertop.

          “You stay right there. I don’t need any more help. I’m almost done.”

          “Okay. Don’t take this the wrong way. But don’t you have work to do?”

          “Do you not want the food?”

          “No, no! I do!”

          “Then sit there like a good girl.”

          “I think prefer when you’re my good boy,” she winked at him and his cheeks flushed. He was hovering over her in a blink. ___ gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him deeply. Victor sighed softly lacing his fingers into her silky hair. Tilting her head back to deepen their kiss before pulling away slowly.

          “Behave.” He sighed heavily before stepping back. “Stay here. Keep your remarks to yourself for now. Let me finish then we can eat together.”

          She huffed softly. “Fine.”

          Victor had made a hearty dinner with au gratin potatoes with cream, roasted vegetables, and filet mignon. After he was done plating their dishes he took them out. Once back in the kitchen, he took off both of their aprons and hung them up. He took down her hair gently before placing her back on the ground. He offered his hand, she gladly took it, entwining their fingers.

          ___ gasped at the sight of the restaurant, fairy lights were stringed up everywhere. Flower petals scattered and a bouquet of freesia as a beautiful centerpiece.  The restaurant was dimly lit, a classical piece was being played over speakers at a low volume. Victor guided her to her seat and pushed her chair in for her.

          When Victor looked at her again, after seating himself, her eyes were closed. The happiest smile plastered across her face while enjoying the ambiance. “Thank you for this.” She finally said opening her eyes, to show the water that had been gathered behind closed lids.

          Victor reached across the table to squeeze her hand gently. Smiling unintentionally from her contagious visage. “Anything for you.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Now, let’s eat. Before it gets cold.”

          Her eyes crinkled as her smile widened. “My good boy.” 

          Victor coughed lightly before mumbling, “behave.”

[unusual-raccoon]

Into the Clouds 2/3 by Unusual_Raccoon

Fandom: Arrow

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen

Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Thea Queen, Quentin Lance, Joanna de la Vega, Taylor Moore, Raisa (Arrow), Mr. Blank (Arrow TV 2012)

Additional Tags: Season 1 AU, Episode: s01e15 Dodger, No Pre-Canon Cheating, Laurel Lance is the Black Canary, Sara Lance Does Not Exist, Flirting, Developing Relationship, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Episode: s01e20 Home Invasion, Canon-Typical Violence

(Total) Word Count: 9,338

Chapter Summary: Laurel's thirst for justice in and out of the courtroom puts a target on more than herself.

Link:https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/71429790#main

tag list: @greensirencanary, @raywritesthings, @the-white-w0lf, @elejah-wonderland, @bonkai4ever94

[highqueenofelfhame]

bitter sweet.

My love @rowanwhitethornss requested I write the first Jurdan kiss from Cardan’s point of view and this is hot garbage but i hope you all enjoy anyway.

Jude is standing far too close to me, the look on her face a determined one like she knows exactly what her next move will be. It unsettles me that she lifts my chin with the tip of her blade, effectively forcing my eyes to fall on her. I hate her.

The closer she clean toward me the harder it is to keep the horror from washing over my features, to contain the shame that I feel from how badly I want her. Jude, who is more beautiful than any flower, who is perhaps the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life. I hate her. I want her. Looking at her makes it worse, meeting her light brown eyes just as she leans close to me. Too close.

Too far.

“You really do want me,” she says as my eyes widen, as she alters the angle of the knife, her full lips shifting slightly closer to me. My palms were sweating, fingers shaking and eyes wide as a full moon. But when she finally brought her mouth to mine, it was a shocking jolt of electricity through every part of my body so much that I was completely frozen where I sat. I move slightly, my eyes fluttering closed and Jude shudders at the way that they brush her cheek.

It was impossible to mask the shock of having Jude kiss me, and ever harder to mask just how badly, how desperately I wanted it. My hands moved along her arms slowly, so slowly to savor the feel of her skin. Jude was so soft, so warm. Her full lips are like pillows that are all too inviting and make me never want to stop doing this. I never want to stop kissing her. I never want to stop worshipping her with my mouth. I want to touch and feel and taste the rest of her body to see if it tastes as bitterly sweet as her lips do. But I settle for her tongue.

My hands twine into her thick hair, her curls falling around us like a curtain and I kiss her in such a claiming way she has to know how badly I want this. My teeth tug on her bottom lip until I’m able to slip my tongue into her mouth. Jude. All I can think about is Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Her lips, her tongue, the way she tastes. She might very well be the end of me, this kiss might very well be what ruins me.

Something in her shifts, and she has one hand slipping into the curls at the nape of my neck, the other hand still holding that knife against my throat. I couldn’t care less about the knife. It could stay pressed against my skin all night so long as I get to keep tasting her, keep —

A loud bang startles us both. I bark out a laugh at the knife that she’s just thrown and imbedded in the wood of the desk behind us. My hands drop from her hair and she staggers back, several emotions flashing over her features while she wipes her lip with the back of her hand.

“Is that what you imagined?” She asks, the words nearly as sharp as that knife.

“No.” I keep my voice flat. There’s no way in hell I would ever tell her that truth.

“Tell me.” But I shake my head.

“Unless you’re really going to stab me, I think I won’t. And I might not tell you even if you were going to stab me.”

I would never tell her. Never tell her that nothing could have prepared me for kissing her. Nothing I had ever thought up compared to what it really felt like to have her hands in my hair and mine in hers. That I wanted to be able to lay her out on that desk and never stop kissing her, to take her to my bed and kiss every part of her body until she was writhing beneath me.

No. I would never tell her.

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @darklesmylove @myfeyrelady @kandasboi @rhysands-highlady i can’t remember who I’m supposed to tag idk man like @city-of-fae @zoyastormwitch

[ronniemacswan-mills]

You have to go and read this story.

Its just 🥺🤭🤌 gorgeous ♡♡

Title: [Fanart] Hold Me Link: Click Here To View and Comment Artist: Autbot Find them on: -Twitter: -Tumblr: autbot

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Title: If you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever does Link: Click Here To View and Comment Author: rxinbowspxrkle Find them on: -Twitter: rxinbowspxrkle -Tumblr: rxinbowspxrkle Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply Words: 16k Summary: Emma’s been struggling for a while. But when Hook leaves, her downward spiral reaches its tipping point and all hope is lost. But Emma isn’t alone. Regina is adamant on being there for her and looking after her.

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Remember - writers and artists spent months creating the fics and art you enjoy, so it would mean the world to them if you commented to tell them what you liked! A creator who feels appreciated is a creator who is more likely to write or create art again in the future!

[hoffkk]

On the first day of Ficmas, hoffkk gave to me...

Love Around The Holiday Tree (An Olicity fanfic)

*******

Felicity sat quietly at the dining room table, staring at the present in front of her.  She admired her handiwork as she raked her eyes over the small square box covered in red and green striped paper.  The corners were folded perfectly and a green bow sat neatly on top.  It was definitely her best wrap job to date, but it wasn't the outside of the box she was worried about.  No, the pit in her stomach was solely formed based on the contents inside.  The idea came to her today at work: the perfect holiday gift for Oliver. She had been so excited about it all day, but now that it was all wrapped up and ready, she was having second thoughts.  Maybe it was too cheesy.  Maybe he wouldn't like it.  Or maybe... maybe she just wasn't ready to give him this particular present quite yet.

As she groaned in frustration, she heard a door open and shut.

"I'm home!" Oliver's voice rang out.

Instead of replying, Felicity grabbed the present and jumped to her feet, looking for somewhere to hide it.

"Felicity? William?" Oliver called out as he entered the kitchen in search for his fiancée and son.

"Hey." Felicity spoke sweetly as she rushed to hide the gift behind her back.  "How was your day?"

"Good." Oliver answered none-the-wiser, giving her a quick kiss.  "Where's William?"

"He's in the living room with Zoe."  Felicity answered, smoothing out the fabric of her dress nervously.  "They were finishing decorating the Christmas tree."

"Holiday tree." He corrected, taking her free hand and kissing her knuckles before leading her down the hallway to the living room.

Felicity could help but smile.  She loved how respectful and inclusive he was of her Jewish heritage, especially at this time of year.  He rarely used the words Christmas or Hanukkah.  Oliver almost always said holiday: holiday party, holiday gifts, holiday tree. One of the many things she loved about him.

As they reached the living room, the couple stopped in the doorway, watching the scene play out in front of them.  Sure enough, William was in there with Rene's daughter, Zoe.  They were decorating the tree and listening to "Jingle Bell Rock" on the music television channel as they talked and laughed.  It was such a precious sight, especially when the preteens reached for an ornament at the same time and brushed their finger tips together.  They both jerked backed immediately and blushed then quickly went back to decorating.

"How cute are they?" Felicity asked rhetorically as they kept watching the kids.  They hung a few more ornaments, and then, as the music faded into a slow rendition of "Somebody's Angel," William followed Zoe's lead and laid down on the floor.  Once the teens were staring at the ceiling in supine position, they scooted upward and slid their heads underneath the tree to look at it from below.

"What are they doing?" Oliver whispered.

"Taking in their hard work from a new angle."  Felicity explained simply, remembering how she used to do the same thing to admire the lights and ornaments on her friends' trees when she was young.  Never having one herself, since her family celebrated Hanukkah rather than Christmas, she had always enjoyed seeing them wherever she could.  There was just something so magical about them.

"Ah." Oliver nodded in understanding.

"Oh, look." Felicity gestured with a nod of her own and a slight smirk.

Returning his gaze to his son, Oliver noticed William's left hand moving little by little, closing the gap between him and Zoe.  Finally, his hand found hers, and he squeezed it gently.  Zoe welcomed the gesture, threading her fingers easily through his.

As the kids laid there with their hands intertwined, Felicity bit her lip to hold back a squeal, wishing she could see their faces right now.  Their cheeks had to be rosier than Santa's Suit.  Peering over at Oliver, she noticed his facial expression change from happy to something wistful as he let out a soft sigh.

Bumping his shoulder with hers, she questioned, "Hey, what's wrong?  You worried about Rene being an in-law someday?" She added teasingly.

"No, it's nothing like that."  He told her with a lopsided smile.  "It's just... apparently, he's ready for his first girlfriend."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Felicity queried.

"Yes," He relented.  "but it's just another reminder of how fast he's growing up and of how much of his life I've already missed out on."

"I get it, you won't ever get back those early years with William, and that sucks, but you still have right now and plenty more years to come." She pointed out.  

"Only five, then he will be off to college and starting his own life."  He tossed back.

"Yes, he most likely will be going to college and most definitely will have a life of his own one day, but when that does happen, he's not going to just stop being your son." Felicity assured him.

"I know that deep down." He replied.  "I guess I just wish that I would have known about him sooner... that I could have been there for him sooner."

Felicity's heart broke and swelled all at the same time as she listened to his words.  All her worry from before was suddenly gone, and she knew that this was the moment.  She was ready and pretty sure that he was ready too.

"Here." She said softly, lifting the small box into view and holding it out to him.

Oliver took the box and arched a brow as he inquired, "What is it?"

"Your Christmukkah present." Felicity answered vaguely.  "Open it."

"But it's not Christmas yet." He stated obviously.  "Or Hanukkah."

"I know, but this can't wait until then and neither can I."  She told him as she nervously tucked some loose hair behind her ear.

"Okay."  He relented then began tearing off the wrapping. Once it was all off, he shoved the remnants of paper into his suit jacket pocket and took in the small white box that sat in his hand.  Carefully removing the lid, Oliver brushed aside a layer of tissue paper, revealing a tree ornament.  It was a small gold shoe with a white chiffon ribbon at the top.  Feeling confused, he looked at Felicity.

"A tennis shoe?"

She just smiled and said, "Look closer."

Oliver obliged, picking the ornament up by its ribbon and letting it dangle in the air.  It was indeed a tiny shoe.  However, there was a heart-shaped charm hanging off the side of it that he hadn't noticed before.  Rotating the ornament, he read aloud the words etched in the middle of the heart.

"Baby's first Christmas?" He queried.

"Yeah,"  She replied.  "I would have went with baby's first holiday, but I couldn't find one, and, believe me, I tried.  I went to, like, ten different stores today. There were some Hanukkah ones, but they weren't as pretty, and besides, this was for you, and you are the Christmas side of our Christmukkah holiday so--

"Felicity." Oliver cut her off, emphasizing each syllable of her name.  "Why are you giving me this?" He wondered aloud, wanting confirmation of what he thought the ornament meant.

"Well, I know you sort of missed out on raising a child once, but, as it turns out, you're about to get another chance." Felicity paused, took a deep breath, then finally said the words out loud.  "I'm pregnant."

"Really?" He found himself asking, partly in shock, partly in excitement.

"Yes." She smiled.

Oliver barely had time to smile back before pulling his fiancée into his arms and showing her just how happy he was to hear this news.

As soon as their lips met, Felicity felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.  She was incredibly happy that he was so happy, and for the first time, she felt truly excited about taking this next step in their life together.

Pulling back slightly, Oliver left a hand on her cheek and his forehead pressed against hers as he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too." She whispered back then gave him another quick peck on the lips.

"Hey, dad." William interrupted as he entered the hallway.

"Hey, kiddo." Oliver replied.  He was still not quite used to being called the "d" word, at least not that "d" word, but apparently that was going to change and soon, much sooner than he ever would have expected.  "What are you guys up to?"

"I'm going to teach William how to make popcorn garland."  Zoe answered.

"We do have popcorn, right?"  William asked hopefully, looking between his father and soon-to-be stepmom.

"In the pantry." Felicity nodded.

"Sweet." William answered before continuing down the hallway with Zoe in tow.

"So... how do you want to tell William?" Felicity questioned quietly, figuring he was the next one on the need-to-know list.

Oliver, knowing exactly what she was referring to, thought for a moment then said, "I don't know, but probably not with this."

Watching him lift the ornament into the view once again, Felicity understood.  "Yeah, well... no worries, we can just hide it until next year."

"Actually," Oliver responded with a cheeky grin.  "I have a better idea.  Come, on."  He urged, leading the way into the living room.  

They made their way over to the holiday tree where he dropped the small, white box he had been holding into the plastic storage bin for ornaments.  Glancing back at the golden ornament in his other hand, he smiled sweetly at what he now understood to be a bootie, a baby bootie... for his baby, the baby he made with Felicity.  Oliver felt like his heart was going to explode with euphoria.  It was all so surreal.  Sighing in contentment, he took a step forward and hung the ornament around the side of the top part of the tree. Stepping back, he put an arm around Felicity, and together they stared at the tree.  It was perfect, hidden in plain sight, totally unnoticeable among the other bulbs and decorations unless you knew it was there.

"Merry Christmukkah." Felicity said as she leaned her head on Oliver's shoulder.

"Merry Christmukkah." He repeated with a grin then turned to kiss the side of her head.  

They continued to stand there for a long blissful moment until a familiar boyish voice called out to them.

"Do you like it?" William asked as the kids re-entered the room, each with their own giant bowl of popcorn.

"It looks fantastic." Felicity replied as she and Oliver turned to look at the teenagers.

"You guys did a very nice job."  Oliver agreed.

"Wanna help us with the garland?" Zoe asked excitedly.

"Sure." Oliver nodded then headed to the large sofa sectional where the four of them sat and began to string popcorn.  For the next hour, they talked and joked around and ate more popcorn than they actually strung, causing them to have to make two more bags.  Eventually, though, they managed to finish the task then decided to order Chinese take-out for dinner.  The four of them ate family style in front of the television, watching the 2000 version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  As they did so, Oliver felt happier than he had in a long time.  He quite liked this family of four thing, and, by the end of the movie, as Zoe slept against his shoulder and snored softly, he realized something else.  Looking from Zoe to the tree across the room and back, he realized that he really liked the idea of having a daughter.

Daughter or son, girl or boy... deep down, it didn't really matter to Oliver.  Either way, a baby Smoak-Queen was on the way and that was the best Christmukkah gift he could have ever asked for.

[stims-the-jester]

I ALMOST PUKED IN THE SCHOOL HALLWAY WHEN I HEARD THAT THE QUEEN DIED ON THE SAME DAY SANS WAS CROWNED TUMBLR SEXYMAN SUPREME OVER REIGEN I AM CRYING THIS SERIES OF EVENTS IS LIKE A FUCKING FEVER DREAM

AND TOBY WROTE A FANFICITION OVER IT AND SANS WON BY DOING LITERALLY NOTHING I THINK I AM ASCENDING THIS IS NOT REAL

AND IT’S RIGHT BEFORE UNDERTALE’S ANNIVERSARY TOO

[i-am-the-gay-shit]

The Machine of a Dream

SO... I'm totally suppose to be updating 'My only Sun'... But I have writers block and can't force anything new yet... I've re-written the 4th chapter... like... 10 times... So I'm taking a break from that! (Sorry to anyone waiting for that update, I promise to try and get it before the end of next week!) I've been listening to I'm in Love with My Car, and this idea came to mind. Enjoy:) This is a Smut! (Maylor. Sex scene. Please read at your own risk! <3)

The scenery passed so quickly it was just a blur of dark shadows, brown, and orange. The Radio blared some new song by The Sweet as the wind whipped through the open windows.

His arm hung out the window and tried to flow with the wind while he moved his head to the beat. His brown, unruly hair flying all over his face, but he didn't care. Not when the moment was so perfect... Speaking of perfect…

Looking over, he couldn't help the smile on his face grow wider as that blonde hair danced with the wind and those pink lips were spread in a pearly white smile. Dark sunglasses hid familiar brilliant blue eyes which was slightly disappointing, but not terribly. Oh no. Even still, his boy always looked so... sexy while driving like this... His left hand lazily holding the top of the wheel while his right arm was propped on the open window, hand tapping the visor to the rhythm. Only changing his right hand to the wheel when his left hand needed to shift.

They were far from London by now, on some older road surrounded by plains of dead, brown grass thanks to the cold autumn that had settled. The wind around them definitely had a bite to it, but neither of them wanted to let go of the free feeling it gave them. Speeding down the lonesome road with the radio at maximum volume. Singing to old classics they had grown up to, brand new songs, and everything in the middle. It was bliss.

"That was 'The Sweet', yeah?" Roger had to pretty much yell over the wind and the radio.

"Yeah... 'Fox on the run', I think they said." Brian nods with a smile, having to raise his own voice as well.

"Huh... It was good... Liked the beat." He heard Roger comment to himself as the song switched to a much more familiar tune.

"The machine of a dream, such a clean machine

With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam..."

One of their own. Well. One of Rogers. One Brian was originally against. The lyrics were just... very... awkward. But he had to confess... after hearing Roger record and sing it... God he was captivated. He always forgot what an amazing voice his boyfriend had... Bohemian Rhapsody really brought some light into Roger's range, but this song... the raspy, deeper vocals... did something to him…

"Heh. Bet you didn't expect to hear this on the radio." Roger commented louder than his previous. Brian could hear the slight bitterness to his smug tone.

"Actually... I'm surprised this is the first time I've heard it on the radio." Brian said with complete honesty, keeping his eyes front. Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Roger take his sunglasses off and look over at him. Probably trying to figure out if Brian was really being truthful or being a dick.

"...Seriously?" Roger asked, making Brian look over. Their eyes locking before Brian reached over and pushed Rogers face so he was looking at the road.

"Yes, I'm serious, Rog. I made fun of you before I heard the song, but after... Babe, your voice just made that song for me." He smiled as he watched Rogers eyes flicker from the road, to him, and back to the road. Almost like he was waiting for a mean comment. But it never came. Brian just smiled fondly before leaning his head back against the headrest and watch the scenery rush by.



"I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile

I'm in love with my car, string back gloves in my automolove"

Roger switched hands on the wheel to downshift, but before he could take his hand from the shift Brin reached over and gently put his hand over Rogers. Neither said anything. They didn't have to. Both silently watched the road as their fingers slowly entwined. Roger kept his speed steady so he didn't have to shift and so they could keep their hands together for as long as possible. Brian knew Roger hated driving in the city because they could never hold hands like this, and he also knew Roger took a personal pleasure from their small intimate touches. But he loved those sweet touches too.

"Bri... I have to downshift." His voice was soft and almost completely drowned out by the radio which now was blasting The Beatles - Hello, Goodbye, honestly one of their personal favorites but now wasn't the time to bring it up. Something in the blondes soft voice made Brian unease. Not in a bad way, he just knew his lover enough to know that calm and quiet almost always came before a storm.

Slowly he untangled their fingers and allowed Roger to operate his car fluently. Slowly down shifting as they lost speed, until the were off and parked at the side of the road. The upbeat tune was the only noise at this point since the wind had died down. They just sat there without a word, enjoying the peaceful scenery and song, before Brian looked over at Roger. The blonde was nodding his head to the beat while looking out his window.

"...Roger, you okay?" He asked softly, reaching hand over to place it on Rogers hand which was resting on his thigh. Slowly the blonde turned to face him. Blue eyes locking with hazel. Roger didn't look mad. He honestly didn't have any specific emotion written on his face. It was just kind of... blank. But from his eyes, Brian knew Roger was relaxed. But something was bothering him.

"Rog?" He spoke up when his lover didn't make a move to reply. Roger just smiled softly after a moment.

"...I love you, Brian." He said softly. He couldn't even hear the radio at this point. All he was focused on were those simple words that made him smile ear-to-ear like a school boy.

"I love you too, Roger." Brian replied with a warm smile before they both leaned in for a kiss. It was simple and soft, just like the words they had spoken. One kiss... two... three... four... Brian honestly loved when he could count their kisses. He didn't know why, but it was just a small detail he couldn't get enough of... Which was quite opposite for the younger man who would much rather a quick pace kiss. The vast difference between their likes and preferences always made Brian laugh. He wondered how they made it work, but somehow... they always made it work. Not flawlessly, but it still worked.

They pulled away slowly, still facing each other as they leaned back in their seats. Eyes barely breaking contact.

"...Do you really like the song?" Roger asks softly, averting his eyes.

"Babe, I love it.... now." He admitted. Roger shot a glare at him, making him chuckle. He turned the radio down before continuing. "Hey. It's no secret I didn't like it before. But after I heard you sing it... I really came to love it." Now Brian averted his eyes shyly.

He looked down at the stick shift and studied the numbers and pattern on the little head as if he never saw one before in his life before he heard the small click of Rogers seat belt, making him look up.

"Rog-"

He was cut off by Roger leaning in completely and taking his lips into a deeper kiss than their previous kisses. Brian let a small shocked noise come from his throat before closing his eyes and accepting the sweet lips and intoxicating tongue. He heard another click and felt his own seat belt loosen.

"Rog-"

Brain tried again but was once again unable to finish his sentence before the blondes lips were on his again. He felt Roger shift in his own seat as he pulled away for a moment. Brian was about to take this opportunity to speak up again, but was taken by surprise as the small blonde easily slid from the drivers seat to his own... Happily straddling his lap. Their eyes met for a slight moment and a spark just just ignited. Their lips meeting quickly, teeth clashing in the heat of the moment and tongues dancing together. Rogers hands gently cupping Brian's face as Brian held his hips. Their position was uncomfortable as hell, but neither really cared as their lips connected and reconnected in a series of searing, passionate  kisses.

"Roger-" kiss "-Meadows-" kiss "-Taylor-" kiss "-Are we really-" Kiss "-about to act like a couple of-" Kiss "-horny ass teenagers, and screw mindlessly in the back seat of your car with the radio playing?" Brian was finally able to get his entire sentence out by turning his face from those invading and wicked lips, which only smirked at Brian.

"Why, my dear, Brian Harold May. We are not teenagers, nor will we be mindlessly fucking. I prefer to call it "passionate, hot, sexy, love making". And we're not in the backseat. We're in the passenger's seat." Roger smirked as he spoke in a smart-ass tone. But let out a surprised squeak as Brian slapped his ass gently.

"Alright, smartass. Are we really going to act like horny ass adults and have a passionate, hot, love making session in the passenger's seat of your car?" Brian corrected himself with a fake annoyed tone. The smile on his face told Roger that he wasn't truly annoyed, just playing.

"Uh. You forgot 'sexy'. But I'll let it slide." Roger giggled as Brian gently smacked the back of his head this time. "But yes. To answer your question: That's exactly what we're about to do. Are you against it?" Roger cocked an eyebrow with that devilish smirk on his lips.

"Not in the slightest. Just wanted to make sure I had the story right~" Brian cooed before catching Rogers lips in another deep kiss. This time their hands roamed. Brian let his hands gently cup the perfect curved of Rogers ass, loving the way the jeans fit him. While Roger wasn't wasting anytime and let his hands instantly start to unbutton the taller mans white shirt. It wasn't long until the shirt was long gone and thrown to the back. Rogers hands roaming Brian's broad shoulders, down to his arms, back up and down to his chest.

Brian let his hands rub and grip at the clothed ass of his lover, loving the small noises coming from the young mans throat. Especially loving the moan, breaking their kiss, when their clothed erections brushed against each other.

"Brian..." Roger breathed out before moaning again as Brian rolled his hips up, rubbing them together again, both of them moaning softly this time. Their lips soon met again with a new fire burning as their hips continuously moved against each other.

Rogers hand suddenly left Brian chest, reached down between the seat, and clicked a small button that sent Brian flying backward with the seat and breaking their kiss. Brian laid there in shocked for a moment, his brain slowly registering that Roger had made his seat go back, before being brought back to reality as Roger stripped off his shirt with no problem and threw it to the back. He suddenly hoped no other cars decided to take this back road for a Saturday drive, because he knew all they would see is Roger... Though from a far, he was sure Roger would look like a woman anyway...

"Hm... Distracted~?" Roger practically purred as he leaned down and kissed at Brian's neck.

"Kind of..." Brian hummed, enjoying the small assault on his neck. He loved when Roger licked and kissed at his neck...

"What's on your mind~?" Roger smirked against the skin before licking and giving a small bite, making Brian groan softly.

"Well..." Brian started but stopped as he let in a sharp breathe from the feeling of Roger's teeth on his neck. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm thinking about my hand on your grease gun~" Brian teased. He felt those lips stop dead in their tracks before Roger pulled away so that he was sitting up. Face in his hands and shoulders shaking as if he were crying, which made Brian sit up as best as he could. He didn't mean to make him cry!

"Rog, babe, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be-" He started off in a panic before he heard a small giggle. Slowly he realized the blonde wasn't crying, but laughing. Slowly Roger removed his hands from his face and was laughing so hard his face was red and tears started to form in his eyes. This made Brian start to laugh too.

"I-I could have gone all fu-fucking night without hearing that, Brian!" Roger laughed out, trying to steady and calm himself which only made him laugh harder. Brian was laughing just as hard at this point.

"Yo-you're the one wh-who wrote the bloody lyrics!" Brian tried to say clearly between laughter.

"Doesn't mean you have to whisper them to me during sex!" They both laughed for a good minute or two before calming down. "Bloody, idiot..." Roger said in a whisper, smiling and shaking his head.

"Aw, but you love me?" Brian said innocently, laying back and giving big puppy dog eyes.

"You know I do." Roger smiled before leaning down and kissing Brian again, not as deep as before, but still a nice kiss.

"Wait. We have a situation to take care of before we start kissing again." Brian said softly, pulling away. Roger gave a confused look. "Your pants. They need to be off, Love."

"Oh... Yeah, I guess that's how sex works, huh?" Roger laughed softly. Brian smiled and nodded with a small hum. His hands making quick work of the blondes button and zipper, helping him struggle out of the jeans and underwear before tossing both in the back with their shirts.

"Well, that was a bloody nightmare." Roger huffed before straddling Brian again.

"Yeah? Imagine if we were trying to make out and do that at the same time." The taller said with an amused smile on his lips.

"Yeah, yeah." The blonde huffed again before opening the glove box and grabbing something. "Before you stop us again for something, here." He said before tossing a bottle of lube onto Brian's chest.

"I-.... Why do you have lube in the glove box?" Brian smirked, but Roger just rolled his eyes

"For when I have my hand on your grease gun." Roger said sarcastically, but Brian didn't have time to laugh. Their lips were pushed together and dancing again before he could register anything. His brain finally caught up and he took the lube from his chest. Opening in and pouring some on his hand without breaking their kiss.

He wrapped his left arm around Rogers waist as his slick, right hand brushed against his entrance before thrusting his first finger in. Roger moaned into their kiss as the digit easily entered him; his body still loose from their previous encounter. Brian knew he really didn't have to prepare his lover, but felt the need to anyway. If only to push Roger as close to the edge as he could get him before...

"Brian..." Roger gasped out, breaking their kiss. The older man just hummed before allowing a second finger to slip in, loving the gasps and whines coming from his lover as he moved his fingers in a scissor motion. He only spent a moment like this before thrusting a third finger and moving the fingers in out out easily.

"Fuck~! Brian..." Roger moaned out all of a sudden, making Brian smirk.

"Hm? Right there?" He asked as his fingers gently teased the same spot. Roger moaned out and whined. "What was that, babe? You need to use your words..." Brian cooed, his fingers brushing that spot again.

"Ah-ahhnn, fuck, Brian, right there... please..." Roger manages to moan out.

"Of course." Brian hums before letting his fingers continuously brush against his lovers prostate, not letting them hit full on, but definitely enough to making the man above him a moaning mess. He marveled at the way Roger's body arched slightly and hips pushed back against his fingers. The way his head leaned back and how he bit his bottom lip, like that was going to keep him quiet.

"Want more?" He asks softly, receiving a small whine as an answer, making him chuckle. "Okay..." He says before removing his fingers and grabbing the lube. Rogers fingers already working his zipper and pants just enough to pull his aching cock out. Humming softly, Brian poured some more lube on his hand before tossing the tube in the back seat and stroking his erection. Groaning softly at the cool, wet feeling. Though he didn't enjoy the feeling for long because Roger grew impatient and smacked his hand away. But Brian couldn't complain when he felt Roger's warm heat surround him slowly... well... he could complain, but he sure as shit wasn't about to.

Groaning out, he closed his eyes and enjoyed his lover slowly taking all of him. The way they fit together was just perfect.  Brian couldn't be sure how long they took or when exactly Roger was completely seated on his lap, but he was in heaven the entire time.

Gently gripping on his lovers pale hips, he moved his hips softly. As if trying to ask permission to move without words. Roger gasped softly before resting his hands on Brian's shoulders to steady himself. Slowly lifting himself up, until the head of Brian's cock was almost ready to slip out, before letting gravity guide him back down. They both moaned and moved together, Brian slowly thrusting up and Roger sinks back down. Both trying to find a comfortable position before speeding their rhythm up. Soon the only sound that filled the air around them was the lewd, wet sound of their skin meeting and both of their moans.

"Brian~~! Fuck~! Right there, babe~" Roger moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Brian gripped his hips tighter before thrusting up harder, right into his sweet spot. Roger moaned out and quickened his pace. Brian could tell the blonde was already close and just let him take the control he needed. Slamming down and speeding up, pleasuring them both. He had no complaints and enjoyed laying back in pleasure; watching that blonde hair bounce softly, eyes close tightly, and mouth hang open slightly. He could probably come at that sight alone...

"Ffffffffuck, Brian~!" Rogers voice whines and moans as he rides his lover like no tomorrow.

"Go on, babe... Roger, come for me... Come on, babe..." Brian encourages softly between moans. Roger didn't need to be told twice before tightening around Brian's cock and coming, riding out his orgasam as Brian moans and bucks his hips up. His own release flowing close behind.

"Fuck..." Roger pants out, letting himself slowly relax. Brian's hands gently massaging his hips. Without anymore words, Roger laid down and snuggled to Brian. Both enjoying the quiet of the evening.

It was around 1 am when they finally got back to London. Both walking side by side, arm around the others waist, into their shared apartment for the band. Neither was surprised to see the TV or their two bandmates snuggling on the couch.

"We were wondering about you two..." John said softly, not taking his eyes off the action packed, cheesy movie playing.

"We just took a drive..." Brian said simply. John's eyes flickered to Brian and then to Roger, noting their messy hair and clothes. But he didn't say anything, instead he just looked back at the TV, not even wanting to know what the two really did.

"Oh, guess what we heard on the radio today..." Freddie muttered sleepily as they two walked past the couch and to the stairs.

"With my hand on your grease gun?" Roger whispered before bursting into a fit of giggles, making Brian smile widely and bite his lip to try and not laugh. The comment didn't go unnoticed by their friends, but again John just looked at them before looking away, shaking his head. While Freddie just looked over in a confused, sleepy state of mind, before John simply just put his hand on Freddie's head and guided him back to lay on his chest. Trying to ignore the giggling duo headed for their room.

[red-pens-and-ferns]

Workouts & Babbles Ch.2

“Is it true someone passed out because you took your shirt off?” Oliver’s head shot up from his paperwork about the new wifi plan for the parks. Tommy Merlyn stood laughing in the doorway of Oliver’s office. Oliver opened his mouth to respond but Tommy continued with, “Wouldn’t be a first but then again must be an ego boost.” He walked in and plopped down on Oliver’s office couch.

“She didn’t pass out; she just fell,” Oliver replied.

“Yes, right. On a treadmill.” Tommy grinned. Oliver sighed. “What’s her name? Was she hot? Sara said she’s hot. Did you get her number?”

“Of course Sara told you,” Oliver murmured. He stood and walked over to stand in front of Tommy stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Come on, man. This is the best action you’ve seen in months. Please, please, please tell me you got her number. I heard she got flustered and talked a lot. Perfect for you cause you never talk. Just like me and you.” Tommy sighed happily. Oliver stared pointedly. “Come on, details, Ollie.”

“I did get her number.” Oliver smiled happily reminiscing of the moment when her adorable son asked for his number then a few minutes after they said goodbye he’d gotten a flirty, looking forward to coffee, Mayor Handsome.

“So what are you going for? Hookup, few dates, relationship, marriage?” Oliver’s eyes widened. Tommy laughed. “Dude, I’m joking, on the last one.”

“I… I like her. We’re going for coffee sometime.”

“Coffee?” Tommy asked wiggling his brow. “Or coffee?” He set his face seriously.

continue on AO3

[miraculousdeservesbetter2024]

Marinette x Zoe or Chloe x Marinette?

I'll do both!

First, Marinette x Zoe (Zoenette)

-

Cons

-They may be too similar to each other. Sometimes, it just feels like Zoe is a Marinette 2.0 but a weaker version (no offense Zo).

-Zoe barely has any character as it is.

-Marinette likes Adrien.

Pros

-The fact that they are similar might cause them to get close.

-They already work well as friends.

-Some people (including Zoe’s voice actress) theorized that Zoe might have a crush on Marinette, as she blushed at her, they exchanged numbers, got along well and became instant friends in “Sole Crusher”. 

-Marinette seems to like and encourage Zoe a lot and is very passionate about her. 

Grade: Between A (I love it) and B (It's very cute)

Now, for Chloenette....

Cons

-Both girls are hated on a lot as it is, especially Chloe.

-It promotes the “bullies bully their crushes because they like them” idea, which in its self isn’t really a healthy mindset and makes up an excuse for the bully to be a bully.

-Also, even IF that was true (even if Chloe bullied Marinette for years because she did so happen to have a crush on her), it’s still questionable and wrong. Chloe caused pain for Marinette for YEARS. And all because of a crush? Marinette doesn’t HAVE to forgive Chloe or date her. She doesn’t have to DO anything that she doesn’t want to.

-Which also raises another point: people tend to ship it because Marinette can help Chloe redeem. Which, even though I personally think it’s nice, Marinette doesn’t HAVE to. It’s not her job to help her bully redeem, especially if she shows time and time again that she doesn’t want her help or have the need to change.

-Bullying is a form of control and abuse. Even though it would be in the past, it still happened. So Marinette and Chloe COULD have a hard time staying together because of this.

-Both girls need to work on themselves first before getting into any kind of relationship, especially Chloe.

-They both have a crush on Adrien.

-As of Miracle Queen, Chloe is no longer a fan of Ladybug nor Marinette.

Pros

-The main reason for the Chloenette ship in my opinion is for a possible Chloe redemption. Despite what I said above, I DO like this idea in a way. It could show that Marinette always gave Chloe a chance to change despite calling her out, and she always was there for her, even when she didn’t want to be.

-Marinette and Chloe ditching Adrien for each other would be SO hilarious and rich lmao! 

-Good redemption and coming of age fanfics for Chloe and even Marinette!

-Angst. Lots of angst. 

-Marinette seems to be another person who understands Chloe and what she goes through.

-Chloe has mentioned before that Marinette isn’t really a BIG problem to her.

-Chloe (at least in the past) was a HUGE Ladybug fan.

-Some good LGBTQ rep (IF Chloe redeems). 

-They got along well as Ladybug and Queen Bee.

Grade: Canon; D (I don’t really like it) Fanficition/Headcanons; between A (I love it) and B (It’s really cute)

Conclusion

Both Zoenette and Chloenette are very controversial pairs for different reasons. A lot of people love it, a lot of people don’t, and I feel like it’s mostly because of Chloe and Zoe themselves and less Marinette. Ethier way, with the proper writing, I feel like either one of these pairs COULD work out. I’m still routing for all 3 of these girls’ positive development, especially Chloe and Zoe, even if that time never comes lol

Afterthoughts 

Like I basically said above, I find it funny and ironic that both Chloe and Zoe are controversial characters and they are sisters, I guess things really do balance themselves out... 

Thanks for asking! 

[samantha-thewinchester]

Addy's Masterlist!

So, I have done this twice before and it desperately needs an update, so here we are! I originally had all my fanfictions on here, but I'll keep my multichaptered to other sites - you'll only find my one shots here.

DNI if you...

if you can't respect peoples pronouns

if you use slurs

the usual (homophobic, transphobic, Islamophobic, pedophiliac, etc.)

if you can't understand opinions are to one's self not to be hated for

and finally if you dont respect peoples triggers or tw tags

Before we get started:

FANDOMS

[Pink means I haven't finished it yet, Purple means I have]

The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, Legacies, Teen Wolf, The 100, Marvel, Supernatural, Outerbanks, Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl, DC's Legends of Tomorrow, Lucifer, The Winx, Reign, H2O Just Add Water, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, The Red Queen, Kingdom Keepers, The Lunar Chronicals, Shadow and Bone [Show]

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Roleplay Information Fanficition Icons Playlists Moodboard Side-Blog Edits Side-Blog Video Edits (coming soon) Tiktok AO3 Links to My Fanfics/Stuff I Might Make For Them Wattpad [For longer length Fanfics]

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