#Short Oneshot

[spookbooh]

please do kinich?

[KINICH X OBLIVIOUS READER]

In which you misunderstand his need to pay you back. ♡

→ Loading game data

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

“ψ (｀∇´) ψ

Again, Kinich left to the peaks of Coatepec Mountain for the 10th time this week. It’s like he took on 10 times his usual rate of commission with how much he has been away recently. At first, you thought that maybe he lowered his prices and now people were flooding him with tasks and errands he could do fast and efficiently- but after speaking with the tribe members of the Scions of the Canopy, you learned this was not the truth at all. In fact, Kinich was quite free of commissions as of late- with the arrival of new friendly faces from afar and their low rates for their own charges. So why was he leaving so terribly often? It was like every time you went to see him, he would leave in a matter of hours. This left you two options.

Option 1: He was tending to a personal matter. Though unlikely, he could be out gathering supplies for a personal project or event for himself. He definitely wasn’t the type, though- especially with how much Ajaw had been complaining as of late. So that left you with option 2: He was avoiding you.

It was strange, you thought, that he left after you would go visit him. Ever since you hired him for a simple commission of gathering Quenepa berries- you felt like you two had become good friends over the weeks. However his disappearances were more and more frequent.

The first time you noticed it after you had come to visit him after a commission that had him away for 2 days. He had come back with scrapes and scratches so you helped him bandage his wounds to make sure they weren’t infected, as you didn’t mind helping him. But then he left a few hours later and returned late at night with Quenepa berries for you. You assumed it was to excuse what he had really been doing, whatever the case.

So it became a strange routine. He would take a commission, you would visit him after and bandage his wounds- gently wrapping his tanned skin in soft cloth and ailment to keep from infection and then he would leave once again before bringing you foraged materials like flowers or berries or even brilliant chrysanthemum. It was an odd behavior to you and to fellow Scion tribe members. Some suggested that he was avoiding you, while some just said to leave it be since Kinich was quite respected in his tribe and no one wanted to get in his bad graces by spreading such rumors, especially to someone he might consider a friend.

So all that was left was you to your thoughts. It didn’t help that you still had this stuck on your mind while you were bandaging Kinich’s torso from his most recent commission where he had run to an antagonized Saurian and gotten quite the scratch on his stomach from it. Although the moment felt very intimate, you were too distracted to notice Kinich’s heart racing under your touch.

“AURGH!! Why must we go out AGAIN, Kinich?! The Great K’uhul Ajaw has MUCH better things to be doing than lugging around with our lowly servant all the time!”

Kinich was still a little dazed from you bandaging his stomach wound just 2 hours before, but was conscious enough to tune out Ajaw per usual- including the sharp yelp he made when Kinich grabbed his tail mid-air to scout the area for materials.

“What should I repay them with this time…?”

Perhaps in his mind, paying his dues to you would encourage you to take care of him more often… at least, it seemed to be working so far.

— Written by Booh ♡

[miyagic]

Family Isn't Blood

James Potter x reader

SUMMARY: James tells his girlfriend jokes, inspired by the ones his father uses to tell his mother, really stupids and not funny at all, but all you can think about is how cute he is to think they are actually funny, what makes you understand something.

MARAUDERS MASTERLIST a/n: You don't have a defined house. Remus and Sirius aren't dating, but they have a thing.

a/n: this is justt fluff, I didn't liked so much, but alright. Tell me what you think!

w/c: 1k

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes!!

JAMES looked at Euphemia, who was making their lunch while he and Fleamont set the table. Sirius is still sleeping, normally James wakes up early (not so much), but today he woke up later than usual.

"You should bring your girlfriend next time, Jamie" Euphemia smiled at him.

"I know, mom. I told her to come, but her parents had already planned the trip." James rolled his eyes slightly.

"What trip?" Fleamont asked, not following the conversations about James' infamous girlfriend with Euphemia.

"[Name] went with his parents to Italy" right after she finishes speaking, Sirius comes down the stairs with the greatest laziness ever seen.

"[Name]? She went to Italy?"

"Yes Pads, she said that in front of you" James scoffed.

"She said?"

"Boys, now I really don't care about Sirius' memory loss, I finished lunch and now let's eat" Effie started bringing the food to the table.

Everyone sat at the table, each eating as much as they wanted. Fleamont then looked at the sodas on the table, and started laughing, leaving everyone else confused.

"Fleamont, what's gotten you?" Euphemia looked at him strangely.

"Guys" he laughs, not finishing the sentence. "Guys... I was thinking about something"

"Here it comes," Effie murmured, sighing.

Fleamont laughs a little more "What do you call a can opener that doesn't work?"

"What?" James spoke.

"A can't opener" Fleamont laughs again as if he had said the funniest joke in the world.

James starts laughing like his father, making Sirius join them, Euphemia also laughs, while shaking her head, but not at the joke itself, but at the chaotic family that she love so much.

———☆———

ON THE RETURN to Hogwarts, James and Sirius met Peter and Remus along the way.

"Prongs," Remus called, "Where is [Name]?"

"She's going with her friends on the train, we'll probably only see each other at Hogwarts" James replies, a little sullenly. "Pads?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember dad's jokes? My mom always laughs"

"Prongs, no" knowing Monty's jokes, and his friend, Remus intervenes, knowing Sirius would probably only encourage it.

"Moons, if my mother, a woman, likes my father's jokes, [Name] would like them too, and me more, right??" Remus and Peter looked at each other.

"Go and get your girl with the jokes, Prongsie!!" Sirius puts his arm around James's shoulders.

"This is going to be a catastrophe" Peter said, shaking his head and Remus just sighed.

———☆———

LATER, at Hogwarts, all the students sit in the main hall, the new students being sorted. This year, so far, most of them have been sorted into Ravenclaw, some Hufflepuffs, some Gryffindors and a few Slytherins.

At the "marauders table", you sat next to James, across from Remus.

“Princess” James looked at you. Trying to remember his dad jokes.

“Jamie” you look at him, maintaining loving eye contact, James’ eyes looked nervous, almost restless, but confident.

"Do you know what you call a can opener that doesn't work?" he tried to copy his father's tone and phrase.

"Um, no?" You furrow your eyebrows, how a can opener doesn't work at all?

"A can't opener" James started laughing again, really looking like he said the funniest thing in the world. Sirius laughed too.

These man's are not normal.

Remus taps his forehead, sighing and shaking his head while Peter grimaces but smiles a little.

James looks at you expectantly, to which you smile widely, but not at the joke itself.

"Did you like it?" his eyes used to shine, James never stopped smiling, his smile bright and full of teeth.

"Yes, I liked it" you smile, not wanting to ruin his happiness, if it's something he likes, you like it too.

James smiles even more, if that were possible and lets out a dreamy sigh, relaxing his shoulders, "my dad usually tells my mom these jokes. They invited you to spend the next vacation there" James takes your hand "you will, right?"

You shake his hand, "of course, if you want me there that much" he kisses your hand.

"Prongs, why don't you tell the one about the dog?" Sirius slams his hand on the table, grinning like a madman. Remus hits him on the head, whispering "stop", Peter chuckles, as Sirius looks at him with his normal drama.

"Ahh yes!! That one is really good" James laughs "Get ready" he clears his throat, you look at Remus with wide eyes, whatever was coming wasn't good. "Oh, what do you call a magical dog?"

Remus shakes his head furiously at you, but James looked so cute that you couldn't resist asking "how?"

"A Labracadabrador" James laughs madly, bringing tears to his eyes, Sirius laughs just as much. Peter laughs a little too, but not as much as Sirius and James. You and Remus looked at each other.

You look at James, he looked so adorable laughing and actually thinking the jokes are good and you can't help but smile sweetly at him.

"Oh" James gasps "I have another one! Calm down" he takes a deep breath. "Why don't koalas count as bears? Because they don't have the right koalifications" and James bursts into laughter again, Sirius along with him and this time Peter too.

And you can only look at your boyfriend, how sweet he looks right now. James tells another joke, but you don't even hear it, you just look at him, smiling endlessly.

For a moment you even think that it would be impossible for him to actually find the jokes funny, but then you remember: it's James, your playful boyfriend who loves to laugh and especially make others laugh, who he loves to laugh.

So you laugh, not at the joke, but for James. And Remus laughs, for Sirius.

Your little family, full of love, laughter and affection. Your real family, real home. Where you should always be.

And then you understand, as Sirius and Remus also understood, after fighting so hard, that family Isn't blood. Family is your home and you have finally found it.

Your little family.

Your little home.

——————✮——————

[7s3ven]

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC. platonic! task 141

( short one shot of y/n and jonny as besties )

IN WHICH… there is never a dull moment in task force 141 with you and jonny, best friends since kindergarten, together.

Notes: not following plot

—

( literally y/n and jonny )

You knew sneaking out yet again was a bad idea, especially when Price was so strict about curfew. And yet, Jonny had convinced you to go out for a little snack run. He may as well have a period with all the weird cravings he’s ranting about as you walk towards the front door.

Your hand stalls on the door knob, biting softly on your lip as you turn it. It doesn’t budge. Your heart jumps and your eyes widen as you turn you head to glance at Jonny. “Did you bring the key?” You whisper, not wanting to wake Price, Gaz, or Ghost. You could deal fine with an angry Price or Gaz since it only took one flutter of your lashes to calm them but Ghost was not so easy to persuade.

The last time you snuck out and returned home late, having attended a party all across town, you woke Ghost up and he was waiting for you in the doorway, bunny slippers on, mask barely covering his face, and arms crossed over his broad chest.

The glare he gave you still made you shake.

You watched as Jonny felt around in his pockets before he paused, mouth agape. “I thought you had the key.” He hissed back at you. You click your tongue, smacking his shoulder.

“I asked you to grab it, dumbass.” You furrow your eyebrows. “How are we gonna get in now?”

Jonny’s gaze shifted to the balcony door that Gaz must have forgotten to close. He meets your eyes and you quickly shake your head. “Anything but that.” You mutter.

As tall as Jonny was, he could barely reach the balcony. He would no doubt throw you up instead.

“I’m not climbing.” You grumble as Jonny wraps his arm around a pillar.

“Hear me out.” Jonny attempts to reason with you but you wildly shake your head, a second away from pounding on the door to get away from the madman you call a friend. “I’ll boost you up.” He shows you a gesture with his arms to reassure you, “It’ll be perfect!”

You highly doubt that. You huff as you cross your arms over your chest. “No way.” You stand your ground but a low growl has you regretting your decision.

“It’s that damn coyote again.” Jonny mutters, peering through the darkness for the feral animal that keeps digging through your trash and biting Gaz while he mows the lawn. “I’m pretty sure it has rabies.”

You’re at Jonny’s side in a second. “Oh, fuck no. Boost me up.” Your stomach lurches as Jonny lifts you. Your fingertips brush the wood of the balcony before Jonny screams.

“That thing bit me!” He shouted as you lose your balance. The two of you fall to the floor with a loud thud and you hold your breath, praying it didn’t wake Ghost.

“Man up!” You yell, slapping Jonny once more. “It’ll be fine!”

“I’m gonna have to get my leg amputated!” Jonny cried out as he clutches his ankle. You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics.

“You’re gonna wake Simon! Shut it!” You clasp a hand over Jonny’s mouth, begging him to quiet down. He licks your skin and you screech, quickly recoiling back and frantically wiping your hand on the green grass below. “That’s disgusting!”

Jonny merely sends you a mocking grin.

Through the darkness, you can hear the coyote circling you, thinking what idiots the both of you are. The animal hisses, causing Jonny to flinch and scramble back. “Every man for himself!” He screeches.

You cackle as the coyote chases after Jonny, tackling him to the ground. “Karma, bitch!” You scream. You regret your words a second later as you feel sharp fangs sink into your ankle.

With the dim porch light, you can see Jonny silently wheezing, struggling to breathe as he laughs at you wildly shaking your leg.

Between dealing with the coyote that currently had a hold of your leg between its fangs or possibly waking up Ghost, you chose the latter. Ghost would forgive you… this coyote would not.

“Get it off me, Jonny!” You scream, pulling at the animal’s tail. “It hurts! Fuck, ow! Jonny!” You manage to pry the coyote off, throwing it at your friend.

Gaz always said how there seemed to be a shared, dysfunctional brain cell shared between the two of you whenever you were together. You were starting to agree with his words now.

Jonny finally got rid of the coyote by throwing a half eaten sandwich from the trash can a couple yards over, the animal eagerly following it.

“When we get inside, you’re dead meat.” You harshly prod his chest, glaring at him.

“Let’s just knock on Gaz’s door. He’ll let us in, surely.”

You roll your eyes. “Nah, he’s gonna wake Price up to annoy us. Just lift me up again, will ya? I almost had it before that damn coyote bit ya.”

Jonny did so without hesitation, not wanting to become the victim to your bubbling anger.

You were so busy reaching for the balcony that you didn’t notice the doorbell camera turn a faint red, a sign that someone was watching.

“How long should we wait until we open the door?” Gaz asks from his position on the couch as the rest of your dorm mates watch the scene unfold through the camera.

“Just a little bit longer.” Ghost replies, lifting his mask over his mouth to sip on his tea. “I want to see one of them fall again.”

[strwberryblast]

𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 | Yuji x Gn!Reader

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••

You hear a knock on your door, and a rush of excitement surges through you. You spring up, eager to open it, already knowing who’s on the other side—your boyfriend, Yuji. The familiar sound of his knock brings a smile to your face and a flutter to your heart.

You fling open the door, and there he is, standing with his characteristic grin and holding a bouquet of paper flowers. “Surprise!” Yuji says, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “I thought I’d bring you something to brighten your day.”

His unexpected visit, combined with the lovely flowers, instantly lifts your spirits. You can’t help but beam with joy as you step aside to let him in. “You always know how to make me smile,” you say, reaching out to accept the flowers.

Yuji steps inside, wrapping you in a warm hug that feels like a comforting embrace. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “I missed you and thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

As you take the paper flowers from Yuji, you notice the bandages on his fingers. Concern flashes across your face as you look back up at him. “What happened here?” you ask, gently holding his hand to get a closer look.

Yuji chuckles, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. “Apparently, I’m not the best at using hot glue or handling paper,” he admits. “I ended up with a bunch of paper cuts and a few little burns. But it was worth it to see you smile.”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his mishaps, touched by the effort he put into the gesture despite the minor injuries. “You really went through a lot for these flowers,” you say, squeezing his hand gently. “Thank you. They’re beautiful, and they definitely brightened my day.”

Yuji’s eyes light up with happiness at your response. “I’m glad to hear that. I wanted to do something special for you, even if it meant a few battle scars along the way.” He grins, his affection and thoughtfulness evident in every word.

You smile at Yuji, your heart swelling with affection. Gently setting the flowers down on the table, you suddenly leap into his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours and the comforting scent of him instantly soothe your frayed nerves.

“You’re the best,” you murmur, resting your face in the crook of his neck. The familiarity and safety of his presence make everything else fade into the background.

Yuji chuckles softly, holding you securely as he adjusts his arms to keep you close. “You’re wrong, though,” he says with a gentle grin, his voice filled with warmth. “You’re the best, love.”

He buries his face in your hair, the comfort of his embrace and the sincerity of his words melt your heart. Everything feels right because he’s here with you.

As you pull back slightly to look into his eyes, you see the genuine affection and care shining in them. The simple yet profound act of him coming over, despite the mishaps with the glue and paper cuts, speaks volumes about how much he values and cherishes you.

Yuji’s hand gently brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender and loving. “I’m just glad I could make you smile,” he says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “No matter what it takes, I’ll always be here to brighten your day.”

You smile, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love. “And I’m so lucky to have you,” you reply, your voice filled with emotion. “Thank you for everything, Yuji. You really do make everything better.”

He leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his smile never fading. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says, his tone full of sincerity. “To be your rock and make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

In that embrace, you feel a renewed sense of hope and warmth. The worries and frustrations of the day seem to melt away, replaced by the comforting reality of his presence and the love you share.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••

please read request rules before requesting ! :)

back to masterlist

[thegirlwiththeblush]

It Ain't the Being Alone

Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor, Tenth Doctor

Word Count: 1.57k

Fandom: Doctor Who

Song Inspiration: Unknown / Nth by Hozier

Summary: Rose Tyler runs into a couple of strangers who don't really feel like strangers.

a/n: I hope people who need closure from the Doctor and Rose find this fic; I wrote this because I would've loved to see the dynamic between Thirteen and Rose, so hopefully people enjoy my spin on it! Special thanks to my dearest @vorsdany of course for proofreading and being so generous with her encouragement!

Rose Tyler often felt like she was being watched. It wasn’t the typical feeling; it wasn’t anxiety-inducing, nor was she on her guard. It felt as if the stories from her childhood of fairy godmothers and angels watching over you were true; she felt almost protected or safeguarded. Only, she couldn’t pinpoint the source of the feeling.  

 Maybe it was the tall, gallant-looking man wearing a fez and bow tie visiting Henrik’s when she was on shift, flashing her a bright smile in passing that she felt deep in her soul. Perhaps it was the grey gentleman in the velvet waistcoat who passed her as she boarded the bus across town one day, his scowling demeanour fading when she turned toward him.  

 It could’ve been the man she ran into after leaving her mother on her way home on New Year’s, hiding in the shadows and groaning oddly. 

 “You alright, mate?” she’d asked. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself as the snow caught in her golden hair. 

 “Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her gaze.  

 “Too much to drink?” 

 He took a moment to catch his breath, before standing to his full height. In the poor lighting of the alley, she could just make out his umber trench coat and navy suit underneath. He appeared to be wearing a pair of maroon Converse high-tops; an interesting fashion choice, she thought. “Something like that.” His dark eyes settled on hers, and even in the darkness, she could sense some kind of affliction deep in them, something other than intoxication.  

 She smiled softly at him anyway. “Maybe it’s time you went home,” she suggested amiably, no ill intent in her words. 

 “Yeah,” he agreed. His eyes never left hers. 

 “Anyway,” she grinned, bending her knees and leaning forward in a friendly gesture, “happy new year!” 

 “And you.” 

 She took her leave, her scarf swaying around her legs as she began sauntering home, frowning curiously as she pondered the encounter.  

 “What year is this?” 

 She spun back round before fully processing his question. A chuckle bubbled up in her chest and she couldn’t help but let it out as she asked, “Blimey, how much have you had?”  

 He made a strangled, throaty sound, shaking his head slightly, as if to confirm that he’d had, in fact, quite a lot. Her smile faded slightly in concern. “2005, January the 1st,” she said. 

 “2005,” he repeated breathlessly, and she nodded, blinking rapidly. “Tell you what,” he continued, “I bet you’re gonna have a really great year.” 

 Her smile reappeared. “Yeah?” She couldn’t believe she was taking a random drunkard in the street seriously, but there was something incredibly inviting and reassuring about him. The grin he gave her in return, although somewhat rueful for some reason, warmed her to her core, and she looked away shyly, before turning to him once more. “See ya!” With that, she bounded across the street to her home, only looking back once she’d made it inside. He still stood there staunchly, as if frozen to the pavement. She tried to put him out of her mind as she made her way upstairs to her apartment. 

 Ever since that night, the feeling had only intensified, and while she didn’t mind it that much, it was almost impossible to ignore. 

 One day, she’d run off to Potters Field Park, flustered and bothered after a disagreement with Mickey. She couldn’t go home just yet, or her mum would end up complaining about something or other, like her favourite show not being on the telly, or Jimbo not answering her calls. Not that she minded, she just wasn’t in the headspace to be dealing with that right now.  

 She found herself a park bench facing Tower Bridge, the dew from the grass permeating through her sneakers and the cold air seeping into her bones. She sighed as she sat back and regarded the bright, cloudless sky and the world before her blankly. In her zoned-out state, she barely noticed the blonde, wiry woman approaching her softly and slowly.  

 “Hello,” she began, startling Rose out of her daze. “Mind if I sit here?” A thick Yorkshire accent imbued her words with a gentle excitement; Rose couldn’t help but think she must be a long way from home.  

 “Yes, of course,” she replied, scooting over to make more room for her. The woman’s long, periwinkle trench coat splayed out across the bench, and she scrambled not to let it encroach on Rose’s personal space. Tucking it underneath her, she made herself comfortable, sitting on her hands and drawing her mouth into a tight, straight line. They sat like this for a moment, in uneasy silence while Rose wondered why she couldn’t have found her own park bench, before she finally spoke.  

 “I wonder if I could ask you something,” she said, turning to Rose with her eyebrows furrowed. “Some advice, I suppose.” 

 Rose raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You’re asking a stranger in London for advice?”  

 “There’s something about you that makes me feel like we’re not really strangers.”  

 Rose was about to scoff at this, but she hesitated, staring back at the mysterious woman. She couldn’t help but feel as if... she was right. She couldn’t put a finger on why, but she couldn’t argue her bizarre point.  

 “Go on, then,” she finally agreed.  

 “I lost someone,” the woman continued, “many years ago. Many, many years ago.” 

 “Blimey, you don’t look like you’ve lived ‘many, many years.’” 

 The woman grinned. “Thank you. My skincare routine is out of this world.” She suppressed a giggle, as if she’d told a hilarious inside joke, and Rose blinked several times, but disregarded it.  

 Shifting awkwardly on the bench, she went on. “I can’t seem to get over it, no matter where I go or how much time passes. I can’t stop myself from going to see her, even just to know she’s okay, or to see that beautiful smile again.” She beamed proudly. “Her smile is one of the most precious things on this amazing planet.” 

 “Ah, so she’s still alive?” Rose clarified. She was struggling to keep up. 

 The woman scrunched her nose. “Well, sort of. Not really, but in a way. It depends.” 

 Rose was beginning to accept that this person was not entirely sane; how in the world did someone’s existence depend on anything? Nevertheless, shaking her head in bewilderment, she asked, “And what advice did you want to ask?” 

 The woman had been distracted by a small, round house sparrow, hopping through the grass in search of scraps, all alone. “Now I’m not sure,” she admitted, still staring at the lone bird. “I suppose just... what to do. How do I keep going with this grief weighing me down?”  

 A twinge of pity pricked Rose’s heart. “This girl really meant a lot to you,” she murmured the obvious. 

 “She was like an angel to me,” the woman concurred, biting her lip and turning her head as the sparrow bounced its way over to them.  

 “How long has it been since you last saw her?” 

 “Ah, now there’s a very difficult question to answer,” the woman laughed as she looked up, but when she met Rose’s exasperated gaze, she cleared her throat and corrected herself, looking away ashamedly. “Quite recently, actually.” 

“Don’t you think, maybe,” Rose suggested, sighing and wondering once again why she was having such a deep conversation with a stranger, “that to get over her, you need to stop seeing her? Unless you’re visiting her grave, I’m still not quite clear on whether she’s alive or not.” 

 “Let’s just go with alive.” 

 “Well, alright.” 

 The woman seemed uncomfortable from being confronted with this point. She mulled it over, grabbing an item from her pocket and rotating it between her fingers. Rose could not discern its purpose or even shape; it appeared to be a distorted shaft of metal, with a glowing amber core running through it, reaching a glowing head at one end. “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured.  

 “I know it can be hard, the loneliness and missing them and what you had,” Rose sympathised. 

 The woman’s face contorted in deliberation. She allowed herself a moment to arrange her thoughts before responding. “I don’t think it’s the being alone that’s worst. It’s more, the being unknown.” Zoning out, she pressed a small button on the hunk of metal, producing a buzzing and whirring sound that startled Rose. “Sometimes I think there are some people who are better unknown.” 

 Rose wondered whether she meant the girl she so dearly missed, or perhaps, herself.  

 The woman stood up abruptly, shoving the metallic item back inside her coat and smoothing the fabric. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you any longer,” she announced, beaming warmly at Rose. “Thank you for your help.” 

 Staring back dazedly, Rose shrugged. “It’s no problem. I hope you are, er, able to find your peace.”  

 The woman’s expression turned rueful. “Thank you,” she replied. “Me too.” 

 As she sauntered away, Rose called after her, “Wait!” 

 She turned back with a small smile and eyebrows raised, almost as if she’d hoped Rose would call her back. 

 “You never told me your name,” Rose said. 

 The woman’s smile grew into a cheeky grin, and she raised one finger to her lips. “Spoilers,” she said. With that, she turned away again and strode off, leaving Rose utterly baffled and ready to go home for a very long nap. 

[mooniety]

"When Secretary Susie attempts to treat a minor papercut, she witnesses something she was never supposed to see—perhaps never learn."

Deeper than a Papercut IS NOW OUT‼️‼️‼️

[bepisbee]

ayy college au meet cute

read on ao3

Shadow was dreading today. He was already the odd one out transfer student. Now he had to use the damn library too? He took a big breath in and out, looking at the looming building. It was only for a semester, by then he would have enough saved for a decent working laptop. Most of his meager funding went to his rent and food. He refused to skimp on good homemade meals. Even if he only ate them once a day. They were made with real food damnit! Shadow shakes his head. The longer he stood there the more likely these overcast dark clouds would open up and pour ice cold rain on him.

He stepped in, a warm blast of air whooshing over him. The doors auto shut behind with a heavy thunk from the thick wood. Shadow made his way inside, all lights a dim yellow. Surprisingly not the kind that buzzed. He appreciated that. He walked to the counter, behind it someone in blacks and purples bent over to the bottom of a book cart mumbling. He seemed annoyed. Shadow stood there awkwardly for far too long before speaking.

“Um- h-ey?”

“Fuck!” The man shot up in surprise, skirt billowing as he did so. His cheeks flushed at the outburst. Shadow’s cheeks flushed for another reason entirely. He was beautiful. Near perfect dark complexion, stunning purple eyes behind glasses. His lips curved slightly thin on top and thicker on bottom, scarred from obvious chewing and biting them. A small scar across his eye and brow, making one eye a shade lighter than the other and missing part of the eyebrow. His hair, a warm honey, pulled behind in a messy butterfly clip. Shadow’s heart was thudding. Vio was also short as hell. The desk came up to just below his pecs where it was at Shadow’s hip.

“Uhh- ahem. M-my apologies, you startled me.” his voice was smooth, and Shadow faltered.

“I- I uh.” He is unable to look away. “S-sorry, Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“It’s alright.” The warm smile does things to his insides. “What can I do for you?” Was it just him, or did maybe this guy also like him? Shadow sure hoped so.

“I need a library card to use for uh books and the computer, for school.” Shadow rocked on his heels, “Uh- please.” he tacked on. He felt the politeness necessary for some reason. He usually never bothered.

“Well I can certainly do that. Do you have your student ID? Or regular, either is fine but the student ID gets you longer book check out time regulations and reservation priority.” He dug into his side bag and grabbed the loose ID card, handing it over. Vio started typing on the computer.

“I’m Shadow… Uh- you knew that I just gave you my ID…” He flusters and Vio laughs.

“Vio.” he glances up from the screen, amused. “New here or just new to the library?” He takes mercy on him, continuing the conversation.

“Both. I Transferred. The arts focus here is a lot better than any schools in Lorule. The magic arts classes are really cool, they go into more schools than I could count.” Shadow falls into comfortable nerding.

“Ahhh, I see.” he hands the card back, brushing their hands. “Well, I hope I get to see you in my class then.” The librarian smirks at him.

“You’re a teacher??” He feels so embarrassed to already have a teacher crush.

“Haha, yes. Don’t look so scandalized! I graduated last year.” he raised the glasses to the top of his head, now that he wasn’t reading things. “Youngest professor here!” he beamed, “I bet you’re pretty close to my age, honestly. I skipped a few grades. I’m twenty-two”

“No shit?” He blinks. “I”m twenty-four. I’m older than you?” Shadow huffs a laugh.

“Wow, an older man? Now that's scandalous.” Vio teases, leaning forward on the desk. “Especially since we have a date this Friday, at the diner on eastside. At 2?” Wow that was smooth, Shadow turns pink again.

“Y-yeah?” his eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” Vio slides him his paperwork, the library card and a post it note with his phone number. “Just don’t be late~” Vio winks and turns back to his book cart, dismissed.

Shadow takes it with shaky hands and fluttering insides. Holy shit. He has a date with the pretty librarian he has talked to for five minutes.

Yes!

Shadow looks around the empty library and goes for the computer, unsure how much work he can actually focus on now.

[jewel-shard]

What's a Weather Channel?

Summary:

When the weather turns cold unexpectedly, Inuyasha asks the question we have all been wondering.

Written for Inuvember Day 2: Kagome

[drh3nryj3kyll]

Dancing

Fandom : Hazbin Hotel

Ship : StaticMoth [ Vox x Valentino ]

Content Warnings : None

☆ fluff , short oneshot ☆

a/n - oopsies i forgot to post this hehe

In front of the uncurtained windows. Vox stared up at Valentino as he clumsily moved with him, albeit not very well. The moth demon held onto his hand and waist as they waltzed around, ‘dancing’, he supposed. A song Vox wasn’t familiar with played softly on Valentino’s phone, which lay on the bed.

“I don’t get it,” muttered Vox.

Valentino chuckled as he gazed into the TV demon’s eyes lovingly. He shrugged. “It’s romantic, mi amor,” the pimp purred. “Aaand~ I bet any onlookers looking at our windows will go and think ‘Oh my god! That’s so cute . . . ��Ellos son tan románticos, bailando así dulcemente!’”

Valentino often would switch between English and Spanish. By now, Vox was somewhat fluent in the latter language since the moth had frequently spoken it with him for decades. Either way, the tech-headed demon rolled his eyes, finding it silly.

“I don’t get what’s so ‘romantic’ about holding hands and stepping back and forth to music,” he commented.

The pimp pouted but didn’t stop his graceful movements with Vox. “Ohh, just indulge me, mi querido . . . It’s fun, no?” “I think it’s just glorified walking,” the other grumbled. He let out a sigh. “But I won’t stop, I guess . . .”

The moth demon let out a content little giggle in response. A light blue blush crept up on Vox’s screen. Why’d the damn bug have to be so cute . . . Oh, dammit, he was absolutely infatuated. Valentino’s laughter was such a pleasant sound to him. Vox could listen to it on loop for  ages . . . The sound of the moth’s laughter, Hell, being around the damned demon in general was so often able to make him simply forget everything around him, to just be so . . . content and blissful. It was nice, a nice little break from the hellish world of . . . well, Hell.

“Vox?” the moth demon said in response to the TV demon’s blank staring. “You alright, cariño?”

“Whah . . . ?” he muttered, dazed. “O-oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

The pimp let out a soft chuckle as he led Vox over to the bed and sat him down on the edge. Valentino crossed his legs as he leaned back on the support of his upper pair of arms, the second pair folded nicely in his lap. Vox fidgeted awkwardly as he looked at the moth, whose gaze was directed to the scenery through the window.

The TV-headed demon’s eyes wandered down to his lap as the two sat there. The only sound in the room was the softly playing music next to them. It was then that Vox felt Valentino lean onto his shoulder, his neck fluff brushing against his skin and screen. He gave Vox a quick peck on the side of his monitor before continuing to rest there.

“I love you, mi amor,” the moth told him softly.

[oatmealdaydreams]

I know I got no choice, got no choice, but to love myself

Please let me know if you want to be added on or taken off the taglist!

Pairing: Intrulogical

Warnings: violent thoughts, violent imagery, intrusive thoughts, insecurity

Description: Logan admires Remus’ consistent love for himself. Remus doesn’t think it matters. It’s not like he had a choice.

Extra: the title is from the song Reaper Man by Mother Mother. It's a Remus song and I will die on that hill.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link

[fic under the cut]

In the late hours of the night, Logan and Remus lay together on the edges of falling asleep. Both dressed in cozy pajamas, under warm blankets and covers. They drift into a calm atmosphere with each other. It’s been a long day for the both of them, and resting with one another is just the thing they need. Curtains are drawn to let in soft moonlight from windows that peek into a nightscape in the Imagination. An idea Roman had, and one Remus helped install into every bedroom in the Mindscape. It’s peaceful and quiet, though both of them remain somewhat awake in each other’s arms. 

“Cephy,” a quiet, sleepy voice calls. 

Remus’ own sleepy voice hums in response, content as the first runs a hand through his hair. 

“I’m not one to be sentimental,” a sleepy Logan starts, only for Remus to snort at him. “But, I do admire your consistent strive to love yourself. It’s wonderful to witness.” 

At that, Remus turns his head to Logan, eyebrows furrowed. Logan moves his hand with him, keeping up the gentle and calm gesturing of running it through his partner’s hair. The small bits of confusion across his face confuse Logan. 

“You...you what?” Remus mutters. 

Logan gives a soft smile, “I admire your sense of self-love. You have this strength to just love all these parts of yourself, even if certain others don’t. I admire it.” 

Remus can only scoff. Logan’s face shifts from soft fondness to worry, and his hand in Remus’ hair stills. Remus noticeably tenses, eyes darting away from his companion. 

“Cephy,” Logan calls again, his hand moving to cup Remus’ cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Remus doesn’t look at him.

“Nothin’, nerd,” he answers quietly. 

“Hey, if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me. I will listen,” Logan thumbs Remus’ cheek soothingly, and Remus has to close his eyes before he dares to melt from a simple gesture. 

“I know. You’d—you listen, I know.”

“Then what’s the matter, dear?”

“There ain’t anythin’. That’s the thing, it don’t matter. It’s just somethin’ I have to do.”

“I...I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Remus sighs, “‘Course, ya don’t.”

He winces. It wasn’t meant to be that sharp. He doesn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it. 

He’s trying to be there for you, and all you can do is fuck it up! Rude, rude child. Fuck-up. Stupid little rat man. 

Logan is patient. A hand still thumbing his cheek, still keeping him steady and here, still warm against his face. Logan’s listening. He always listens, and, yeah, it’s a whole lot fucking better than not being listened to. God, why must he be so fucking observant? Why can’t Thomathy have a stupider Logic that doesn’t care about shit? Fuck you, Thommy Salami. Fuck you and your stupidly sweet Logic who cares and worries. 

“You said you like how I love myself,” Remus continues, rubbing his cheek against Logan’s palm apologetically as he opens his eyes. “It ain’t somethin’ that matters. I kinda have to do it.”

Logan sits up a little, bringing Remus with him. He cups his face with both hands now, a sadly withdrawn expression in his cephalopod's stark red eyes. Remus looks at him, shrugging, as they sit there. He nearly closes his eyes again as Logan thumbs both cheeks now, soft and warm and grounding. 

“What do you mean by ‘you have to do it’, Cephy?”

Remus furrows his brows, giving him an of course, I do look. 

“What do you mean when you say ‘it doesn’t matter’?” Logan tries. 

“‘Cause it don’t? What else would I mean, Professor Dork?” Remus says nonchalantly. 

“How could loving yourself not matter? It’s important.”

Remus makes a noncommittal noise, shrugging again. 

“It matters, my dear. Of course, it matters. You’re important, and you loving yourself always matters,” Logan insists. 

Remus searches for the lie, his eyes gazing intensely into Logan’s beautiful grey and indigo. C’mon, he lives with Jannie of all Sides, he’s learned not to take anything at face value. Sure, yeah, JanJan doesn’t always speak in deception and threads of yellow, but living with that guy teaches you how to twist through what’s said and what’s meant. 

After not finding anything for a good few minutes, Remus slumps. There’s an odd silence that makes him itch to scream, so the silence can’t cut his throat out. He doesn’t like the silence. 

I wonder how silence could cut your throat. With a dagger? Like wind so sharp it cuts through wood? Would it sting? Would it bleed like a waterfall and stain Logan’s carpet? Blood’s hard to get out. You shouldn’t make such a mess, you stupid fucking bastard. Bad, bad, bad. 

Logan plants a gentle kiss to Remus’ nose that pushes out a soft whine from the Duke, his eyes closing again as his skin tries to savor the affection. It sends delightful tingles that his mind doesn’t comment on. 

“Why do you think you have to love yourself, Cephy?” Logan asks, a serious tone bleeding through his tongue. 

“I, um…” Remus doesn’t want to open his eyes, but he forces them open to focus and shifts them away from Logan. “Who else would fuckin’ love me?”

Logan’s breath hitches, heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest. 

“What?” is all he can utter. 

“I’ve gotta do it ‘cause no one else will. ‘S not like ‘m wanted much by everyone, anyway,” Remus continues, unaware of the horribly bare concern that washes over his nerd’s face. “I ain’t got a choice, Lolo.” 

He looks back at Logan, and a worried noise slips from his lips. Logan’s mouth is slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed, and looks every bit ready to cry. 

“Lolo—”

“You, you’re...Remus,” Logan will cry any second now, and it’s Remus’ fault. 

Remus squirms under the whimper of his own name, a small flinch shuddering his body. Logan doesn’t call him by name anymore. He calls him ‘dear’ or ‘Cephy or sweet little nicknames that he’d never admit were sentimental. He doesn’t—he doesn’t call him ‘Remus’ unless someone fucked up or it’s really serious. Did he fuck up? Oh, he fucked up, didn’t he? He fucks up a lot of things, but Logan is the one thing, the someone, he doesn’t wanna fuck up. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to fuck up. 

“Hey, hey, shh. I’m not mad,” Logan’s voice cracks near the end as he tries to reassure his boyfriend. “It’s okay, Cephy.”

The return of an endearing nickname eases Remus, and he pushes his face out of Logan’s hands and into his chest. Logan moves to hold him properly, helping him to lay his head in the crook of his neck. Logan’s arms hold him tight, and he pulls Remus securely into his lap. Remus snuggles into his companion, chasing the nearly overwhelming warmth from being held. He shivers, and Logan wraps a blanket around them. 

“You’re loved, Remus. Of course, you’re loved. I care about you, and–and—” Logan mutters into Remus’ smelly hair, not giving a flying fuck. “Janus cares about you, too. He likes taking care of you. And Roman’s missed you.”

Remus separates his nose from the crook of Logan’s neck, head sharply turning up to look at him. He can’t stop the look of utter disbelief echoing in his eyes, nor can he stop himself from scoffing again. Roman’s not...why would he miss him? He said he didn’t like him! You’re not supposed to miss the people you don’t like, right? How’s that supposed to work? He said he didn’t like him, and it’s not like he’s tried spending time with him much. Of course, he doesn’t miss him. Remus misses him...but that’s him, and not Roman, because he isn’t Roman and Roman isn’t him and Roman doesn’t want to be anything like him. He doesn’t miss him! He doesn’t...he—he—

“He’s—Ro what?” Remus stammers. 

“Roman misses you. He told me himself that he misses you but doesn’t know how to connect with you because it’s been so long. He cares, Cephy,” Logan explains, uttering quietly as they’re both caught up in emotions. 

“No. No, he don’t. He said he don’t like me, how could he miss me? That’s not—no—”

“Cephy, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. ‘Cause if he misses me, then why won’t he try? He should know—he should...he’s not...I…”

Remus buries himself back into Logan, as if he were trying to burrow into his chest like a little mole. Logan holds him tighter, engulfing him, protecting him. 

“You’re loved, my dear. You’re loved, I promise, you are. You’ve got people who care about you. You don’t have to depend on only yourself to feel loved and wanted. It’s okay, Cephy, I’ve got you,” Logan mumbles into Remus' head of messy hair. 

“I don’t—I dunno if I can believe you, Lolo…”

“That’s okay, little fry. I’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

“Even if I do?” Remus’ voice is small. 

“Even then,” Logan’s voice is wet. 

A few, tiny tracks of tears flow down Logan’s face and hit Remus’ head. Remus glances up, wiping away his companion’s tears and not giving a shit about the grossness of crying. He wraps his own arms around Logan, clinging to him as his nerd does the same. They slowly lay each other down—the blanket coming with them, warm and soft—and Logan pulls the cover back over them. 

It’s late in the night as Logan and Remus lay together on the edges of tearful slumber and comforting embraces. Both remain dressed in cozy pajamas, under their warm blankets and covers. They drift deep into each other, burying their bodies together. It’s been a long day, and an emotional night for them both. Curtains are drawn to let in soft moonlight, the Imagination sending in calm breezes through the windows. It’s peaceful and quiet as they cuddle there, ready to sleep, ready to gentle each other’s worries away. It’s there Remus realizes he isn’t alone, he’s wanted and loved. It’s there Logan holds on tightly to his love, trying so desperately for his fondness and care for his companion to be felt through how he holds him. It’s there they let silent tears fall and quiet hearts heal. 

It’s there, in the middle of the night, that Remus starts to feel wanted by someone who isn’t him. 

Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20 @thegoldenduckie @not-sure-what-im-feeling

[miyagic]

Scars and Stars

Remus Lupin x reader

SUMMARY: You and your best friends help Remus with his insecurities, his scars, making them easier to love.

MARAUDERS MASTERLIST

a/n: you don't have a defined house, but it's kind of implied that you're in Gryffindor. Marauders friendship >>.

w/c: 1,2k

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

REMUS looked at himself in the small mirror in his dorm shared with his best friends, he thought he looked disgusting.

Disgusting, disgusting. Looking at him is disgusting. There are so many ugly, horrible scars that pollute his face. But he got used to it a little, never having had a face without his scars.

Somehow, he really doesn't know how, he found a girlfriend, who loves him and who he loves, in some way he doesn't understand. But he can't help but think he's a nuisance, that he's going to hurt her one day. After all, he is a monster, a dangerous monster.

He can even hurt his friends, his family. And those ugly scars all over his body are just proof of that.

And then he is taken from his numb form in front of the mirror, with a soft slam of the door, as James closes it.

"Moony? Are you okay?" James regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, it's obvious that he's not okay.

"Uhum" Remus shakes his head, tired.

"Moons, do you want me to call [Nickname]?" James asks, worried, then Sirius and Peter enter the dorm and quickly notice the tension, falling silent.

"No" Remus didn't want to bother you, it would be ridiculous for you to stop anything, just for a person like him, a monster.

"Are you sure? I know she would love to come and she certainly doesn't mind" Peter tries again, knowing that Remus needed her. That doesn't mean Remus doesn't need the other Marauders, he does. But right now, he needs all of his best friends.

But Remus didn't want to accept help now.

"I'm sure" he said somewhat aggressively.

"Remus, you know you're beautiful, right?" Sirius spoke for the first time.

But Remus let out a disbelieving chuckle, as if Sirius were joking.

"It's true, moony" Peter smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It is, moony, you're hot, you know who else thinks that?" James smiled widely, putting his arm around his shoulders.

Remus shook his head, "no one" Sirius raised an eyebrow, standing behind him, who was sitting.

"You're kidding, right? All Hogwarts thinks you're hot, have you ever seen how they look at you?"

"I don't care about them" he only cares about what his friends think, but he cares so much about what you think, and even though you always show and say that you think he's beautiful, he can't believe that that's possible.

You'll probably end up leaving him, and he will not blame you, it will be his fault for sure.

"I'll call [Name], you know you need her too" Peter said, squeezing his shoulder, but waiting for him to consent. To which Remus just shakes his head slightly. So Peter went in search of you.

———★———

YOU folded a blouse, placing it on your dresser, today is your tidying day. It seemed like you had already done so much, but the pile of clothes still waiting to be stored prove otherwise.

You pick up another blouse, starting to fold it, but your work is interrupted by someone knocking on your dorm door. You get up and open it, seeing Lily Evans standing in front of you.

"Lily, hey. How are you?" You smiled at her.

"Hey [Name]! I'm fine and you? Peter asked me to come here and get you, since he can't go up" Lily smiles back, she's such a cutie.

"I'm fine too. Do you know what he wants?"

"He didn't told me, but he seemed in a bit of a hurry."

"Ah, okay then, I'll go there" you smile and head out the door, leaving with Lily.

"Peter, hi" you hug him, “did something happen?”

"Yes, it happened, Remus it's sad again" he whispered, hugging back.

"Get it, is he in your dorm?", as soon as Peter responds "aham" they both went in the direction of the marauders' dorm.

Peter opens the door and lets you in first. You head towards Remus, Sirius and James with Peter behind you.

“Rem, hi” you hug him, giving waves to the other boys, who wave back.

You break the hug and look at him carefully, Remus looks so tired. Then you move to his side, facing away from James, who stands behind you.

"Do you know what I see?" Remus doesn't answer, even though the answer is obvious in his head.

"a horrible monster that can kill anyone in this room because of a simple and stupid moon."

"A brave boy, who deals with his problems, instead of running away" you pass the turn to James.

"A boy who loves his friends more than anything and would do anything for them" James nudges Sirius to speak.

"A boy who is always there when anyone needs"

"A boy who takes on a friend's blame when he needs it, but also corrects him when necessary" Peter spoke last.

"And I think we can all agree that you are perfect in your own way, and that, those scars" touch his face, "just prove how good, brave, kind, important and all the other good adjectives, that you are" Remus eyes glistened with tears, "and if you want to know, they make you, our moony" all the remaining marauders smile, knowing what would come next.

"And everything for our moony" they speak in perfect tune.

Remus lets a tear fall, which makes everyone embrace in a loving and caring group hug.

They stayed like that for a moment, before Sirius had an idea and pulled out of the hug. Sirius then searches his bedside table, pulling out a quill and an inkwell.

"You know, you love the stars," Sirius begins, smiling cutely. "Then you should love your body" you all release Remus and he dips his quill in the inkwell and carefully draws a star on a particularly large scar on Remus' arm.

Remus looked ecstatic, eyes still bright with tears. Sirius hands the quill to James, who draws another star, more clumsy, on another scar, but on his shoulder. Afterwards, James hands it to you, who draws another one, in his hand. Finally, you hand it to Peter, who draws a perfect star on the scar on his collarbone.

Remus lets another tear fall, not taking his eyes off the scars with a small star drawn on them, they looked less ugly now. In fact, they didn't look bad at all. But Remus feels he needs more little stars.

Then, hesitantly, Remus points to the scar that runs across his nose "can you draw one here too? And.. a few more" it was strange to see Remus shy around you all, but it seemed normal at this moment and none of you cared.

"Of course" Peter draws the little star and then gives the quill to Sirius again, who draws another one and hands the feather to you who also draws one.

And so you spend the afternoon, drawing stars on Remus' scars and he really wonders what he did to deserve such friends.

At the end of the day, Remus became the star man, full of drawn stars. And Remus loved the stars, which made him love his scars.

His scars are full of stars and his stars are full of love.

——————✮——————

[thecursedcake]

It's been a rough day for me but sometimes posting a work and hearing feedback helps. I've been sitting on this one for a while and finally just finished it up and posted it. I love me some fluff to help cheer me up, and I hope it can also cheer someone else up a little.

[ziv-helpless]

Sensitive elf ears

Gn!Reader x Astarion This is my one shot/trope that I'm posting here on Tumblr so I hope you enjoy. English isn't my first language so please correct me should you find any grammar or spelling mistakes. Enjoy!

The sun has already set, and you had nothing better to do than to make up a mischievous plan. After a while of planning you trod over to Astarion who was sharpening his dagger.

“Astarion, is it true that elves have sensitive ears?”

Astarion raises his head to look at you with his signature smirk. “Yes, indeed. Why are you asking darling?” You try to reason that you just don't want to be misinformed, which he seems to believe.

The topic hasn't been brought up again in the last few days and for Astarion it was just another evening in your shared tent, reading books next to each other.

“Astarion?” As soon as your breath hit his ear it twitched, making you grin. His eyes didn't leave the page when he tried to hide his blush from you. 

With a quick movement the end of his pointed ear is in your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it and suck on it. “Ngh~” Astarion squirmed with wide eyes, your hand moving to his chin in order to stop his head from moving.

A bulge quickly formed in his pants that didn't go unnoticed to you. You pin him down onto the bedroll making him unable to create any friction. His pale skin turns red at his ears and cheeks as you continue to tease him. It didn't take long for him to spill and make a mess in his own pants. You smirk at the results, and he refuses you to help him clean up.

[reverse-falls-stan]

Just another night

Aka: Stanley is very much not a healthy person in any sense of the word (and I struggle with conflict scalation)

Tw: Child abandonment, manipulation, alcohol drinking, overall toxic marriage dynamics

Ship: Fiddlestan

He thumbed idly across the records, choosing one more on feeling than the title of the vinyl. The whiskey was already opened by the counter. There was no one to complain about leaving alcohol out in the open, his brother had locked himself in his study hours ago and the children- lord knows where they went.

The disc slided swiftly into the player, the resonance of the room being perfect to make the old ballad eco through out. Humming to the tune in an attempt to fully remember it, Stanley served himself the glass and ice. His eyes slipped closed as his body swayed to the soft rhythm, taking his sweet time of enjoying the music before asking the first bitter-sweet sip. It goes down easy, and with it all the worries of the day, the week, the month.

Like many times in his life, there was nothing but a bottle and some music to keep hin company-

"That's... Sinatra, right?"

- until now.

Then again, it was the only interruption he could ever ask for

"Ah, sorry doll. I didn't mean to bother you"

"Not at all" Fiddleford laughed softly- and oh how that laugh still made him feel dizzy still

Stanley opened his arms and his husband walked up to him, kissing his hand before taking it, pulling him in. Both of them struggled to get on track, tripping and stepping onto each other until almost out of nowhere they found themselves in complete synchronization with one another and the tune. Once they realized, they just chuckled, kissed softly, and Stanley took another sip

"Do you remember this song...?"

"I think so? Is... yes, one of our first dates, right?"

"Mhm. I had gotten a record player so you and Sixer would have something while you worked..."

"And you just hijacked it at some point for the date- wait, no, there was a- a band right?"

"I got both. You deserved it after all"

"Still the same flatterer as then, hun"

"And we danced the night away..."

As they swayed softly at the rhythm of the fading song, Stan sighed and left his head rest on the crook his darling's neck

"You really get me acting all stupid..."

"Is that an insult, doll?"

"You know is not. Just... when we dance like this, I get dumb ideas. The kind that only make sense when you're young and sick with love"

"Such as what?"

"... Running away"

The record finally went silent, along with the rest of the room

"I wanna pick you up, run to the car, and ditch this town. Maybe get new names. Leave all this business nonsense and never look back"

After a few moments, Fiddleford hummed and paced a soft kiss to his temple "That really is a love sick idea"

Stanley sighed again and, never letting go, made his way backwards until dropping on his armchair, his husband idly sitting on top of him

"Are you not happy here?"

"Of course I am. We got everything we could want"

"Then...?"

"I dunno. I just got stupid, I told you. But don't you think it'd be nice?"

"Hm... yeah, I guess it is nice to think about. We could try to move out... but we'd be forgettin' sumthing, don'tcha think?"

"Hm? What?"

He he'd his cheek so he'd look up at him "The kids, Stanley"

"Oh."

Of course. It was always those kids. For the last 6 years it has always been those kids.

"I mean, we could always just leave 'em with Ford-"

"Oh please, ya know that man would leave 'em in the garbage dump if he had the chance"

"He wouldn't do that. He's not getting near enough to a dump to do it"

"Ya know what I mean! Those kids got nothin' but us. But you"

It took all of his will power to not groan in response, deciding to instead finish off what was left of his drink in a few gulps to have something else to think about.

"Look, I know it's pro'lly not what you expect to be doin' at this age, but they're still our family"

"Yeah, cuz Sherman decided to fuck off with my nephew to lord know where"

"And that was their mistake. It don't gotta be yours too"

Stanely focused only on the ice that remained om the glass, swirling it around just see them crash and clink, completely useless without its companion.

"... you weren't actually thinking about it, right?"

"... I need to refill my drink. You want one?"

"Hon."

"I'm sure we're got some nice rum arond-"

"Stanley."

Finally, he turned around to meet with those strange eyes. That odd look somewhere between anger, confusion and betrayal. One he couldn't for the life of him remember ever having seen in his husband's face yet the dread that made a home in his stomach as a result felt so familiar.

"Are you actually mad? Really?"

"You honestly think I'm gonna be ok with the idea of just abandonin' them?"

"It's not abandoning. They'd still have Ford, they'd still have all of this mansion, hell they'd have the town!"

"That ain't what a kid wants, they want you! A parent, or- or at least a guardian!"

"Like you would know anything about that!"

Fiddleford suddenly got up, holding the side of his head "ack- just- God you're impossible sometimes! Why- why- why do ya always get like this when ya drink?"

"Fidds- please-"

"Just- Just forget about it! I'm gettin' a headache. I'm going ta da bedroom. Ya can come when ya pull your head out your glass and ass"

Stanley looked from his seat as he walked away, muttering something under his breath. He kept staring until his figure could no longer bee seen down the corridor. Then, he calmly got up to serve himself again, drinking half of it in one go, and walked down that same corridor already with quite the struggle. The alcohol in his system, however, didn't seem to be a problem when he took the memory gun out of his jacket and pointed straight to the back of the head. He rushed to catch him, now both of them in a daze in front of their dorm

"Uh- wha..."

"Geez, I swear ya become more of a lightweight with every year doll"

"Really? I.. ugh..." he held his head, and Stanley kissed his temple

"C'mon, let's get ya to bed before you pass out"

"... a- alright, yeah, thanks..."

After laying him down on the bed and spoiling him with a few more kisses until he was fully knocked out, Stanley took out the gun once more, forcing his foggy mind to think about something

He only had to change a few characters of the prompt before shooting himself

After the shock was gone, he got up with a blank expression, returning the device to the hiding spot it should've been in from the begging, and dragged himself back to the living room

[anonymergremlin]

The stalker who never meant to be one.

Carlo and Romeo tell [Name] that they want to become stalkers. They have a little argument about who would be better at it. [Name] laughs as they argue in the silliest way. And then [Name] speaks up:

"I want to be an inventor/alchemist."

The two boys laugh at this. They tease [Name] a little for their answer, but in a kind way.

"What? Being an inventor/alchemist sounds pretty awesome to me. I could do something for the people, for all of them. Like I could create/make things to help my 'strong' and 'powerful' stalker friends. Besides… I'm not very fond of fighting.

Carlo and Romeo smile and nod. "I guess you are right. Backup doesn't sound bad, and with us you don't need to fight. We will protect you."

"You will?" "Yeah, I mean I will. I am not sure what Carlo will do" "Hey! Of course I am going to protect [Name] as well"

[Name] has another good laugh. Being protected by the ones you love doesn't sound too bad at all. It…

Wait.

They realised that they were once again staring up at the sky. [Name] let themselves get lost in thinking once more. Their gaze moves down and they look at the two blades in each of their hands. Stained with blood and oil. Oh yes, they have been in a fight again, nothing unusual for a stalker like them.

"It's funny. I told them I would never want to fight. But here I am. I guess I would say 'I would protect you'… but I guess I can no longer do that".

Tears trickled down their face, splattering against the dirty floor.

"I don't want protection anymore. I just want the two of you to come back. Romeo, Carlo".