#and then make a plan to meet up and i guess they meet you and you become friends or something

[lotties-ashwagandha]

THE JEALOUSY GAME

(adult) lottie matthews x fem!reader.

NSFW! 1.4k words. when the yellowjackets visit the wellness center and van starts flirting with you, lottie absolutely does not get jealous and absolutely does not make you prove your loyalty (I’m a liar that’s exactly what happens). requested by @ludasgf I love you!!!

While you wash your hands after doing the lunch dishes, Lottie stands back against the counter, looking over notes for a new wellness plan and watching you intensely every time you look away and she thinks you won’t notice.

She’s been off this afternoon, different, and so far you haven’t asked her about it. You don’t want to push her — she will talk when she’s ready, especially if it’s something serious.

Even so, you wish you knew what was bothering her — especially because she’s been acting so furious. She has been brisk with you, with Lisa, with everyone apart from her followers.

It’s a guessing game at first where you’re not sure if she’s mad at you or at the world or at herself or at the mailman’s neighbor’s boss, and it’s put you on edge. You wait, looking back at her every couple of moments over your shoulder, until finally she turns and meets your gaze.

She studies you. “What was Van saying to you earlier?”

You relax a little bit. You get it, now. It takes you a moment to answer, because while you did nothing wrong, ‘another woman was flirting with me’ still sounds inherently incriminating to a jealous spouse. “We were catching up. She was asking me about the wellness center, about the classes. Shauna, Misty, Tai, they’ve all been curious about what we’ve built here since they came.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you nod. “Why? What else were you thinking?”

She shrugs. “Van was looking at you…”

“She was looking at me,” you repeat blankly, because you know it will make it worse in all of the ways you want. When Lottie gets jealous, there are two ways it goes: she completely shuts down for a few days and goes into an unassailable depression, or she spends the same amount of time showing you again and again that you’re hers. You know which one you prefer, so you’ll try to provoke it.

“Don’t do that,” she steps closer. “Don’t repeat it like that. She was looking at you like she wanted you.”

“She was just being friendly.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “she wasn’t. And you know it.”

You step closer. “It doesn’t matter how she was looking at me, I don’t want her. I want you.”

Lottie doesn’t soften. She just watches, and eventually she sighs.

You take her hands in yours, looking up at her, running the pads of your thumbs over her knuckles. “Talk to me.”

She hums in disapproval, pulling her hands away. “I don’t feel like it.”

You’re a bit taken aback. You don’t know what angle she’s trying to take, where this is going, because usually when you approach her with such softness she reciprocates it.

She takes a step forward, so close to you that you take a step back to keep your footing and your lower back presses against the kitchen counter. Lottie comes close again, one hand resting on your hip and the other coming up to trace from the hollow of your neck to the edge of your jaw. She speaks in a factual tone. “She was all over you today.”

You nod. You pull her a bit closer, run one of your hands through her hair and meet the intensity of her gaze with yours.

Lottie kisses you, and there’s nothing domestic in it. It’s possessive, claiming you and setting something burning deeply under your skin, a need for her that feels vital. Then she dips her head down to your neck, sucking and nipping enough that you can already imagine the marks she’ll leave. And the bruises, while on your skin, are not for you. They are for Van, for anyone and everyone else at the wellness center to see and know that you’re spoken for.

“She knows you’re mine,” Lottie slips her hands just slightly under your shirt, touch ghosting over your waist. She shifts to look into your eyes again. “Do you?”

“Of course,” you say immediately. You start to squirm under her touch, under how she looks at you so hungrily. “You know I do.”

Lottie steps back. She watches you intently. “Then show me.”

You close the distance and kiss her again, more desperately this time. She tugs you closer, pulling off your top and discarding it on the floor somewhere beside you. You reach for the zipper of her dress, fumbling with it while distracted by her, until she reaches back and pulls it down for you and her dress slides to the floor and she kicks it away.

She makes a disapproving sound when you move away, and then she realizes what you want when you back her up against the kitchen island and hoist her up onto it. She kisses you again and pulls you to stand between her knees, gasping when you break away to spread kisses from the corner of her jaw down to her chest, savoring the warmth of her skin and subtle hints of the floral perfume that you watched her put on this morning. One of her hands runs through your hair gently, a gesture that still carries comfort and reminds you she’s not really pissed at you, this is just a game — but it’s one that she will win.

When you look up at her, you still see the same possessiveness. With a hand in your hair she guides you further down and you take one of her nipples into your mouth, running a thumb over the other and moaning softly against her skin when she gasps at the contact.

“Good girl,” she praises. “You only need me, don’t you?”

You hum in confirmation, running your tongue flat against her.

“How badly?”

You lift your head to answer but instead she grabs your wrist and guides your hand between her legs.

She meets your eyes and repeats her earlier instructions. “Show me.”

With her hand still on your wrist you dip a finger into her wetness, sliding lazily over her and pausing at her clit just for the impatient sigh you know she’ll give you. You’ve done this enough to know what you can get from her and how, and every gasp and moan and sigh you evoke is more satisfying than the last.

Lottie’s grip on your wrist tightens when you start circling her clit. You try to keep a pace that’s slow and teasing, but it’s an effort you quickly abandon. As much as you’d like to try to prolong this your only concern now is her, how her thighs press against your sides and she meets your eyes with such possessiveness that it’s dizzying.

“More,” she demands, breathless, shifting a little as she tries to chase more pressure. “Fuck, I need more.”

You want to drive her to the same sense of pleasure-induced insanity that she usually drives you to. You want to use all of her tricks back on her, say something mildly bitchy like ‘say please!’ — but all of that fades when you catch that gleam in her eye and you are reminded that your place is to serve and not to dominate. Lottie still has control, and you have to do well for her.

You slide a finger into her, and then a second, a moan slipping past your own lips as you keep going. She huffs out a laugh, one that’s condescending, but then it morphs into a sort of groan as you hit deeper. “Good… keep going, you’re doing so good for me.”

You shift in your stance, feeling your own arousal so intensely it’s almost painful. You kiss her, you kiss every inch of her that you can until she grabs you by the neck and immediately you meet her eyes.

“You’re mine,” Lottie states shakily. Already, she’s close. “Say it for me.”

“Yours,” you confirm. “I’m yours.”

You feel her tense, grip on your wrist so tight your hand is nearly numb as you work her through release, whispering the same praises to her that she usually repeats for you, reminders that you’re hers and that you could never wish for anyone else. And when it’s washed over her completely, when she relaxes and you pull away your hand, you pull her into your arms to rest. She leans her head down on your shoulder for a second, taking a deep breath.

You run a hand softly over her back. “Are you okay?”

She nods against the crook of your neck. Then she lifts her head and kisses you slowly, domestically. There’s not the heat of lust in it but fragility instead. She smiles softly when you pull away. “You did so well,” Lottie praises. Then her expression turns serious. “I meant it, though. Fuck Van. You’re mine.”

“I know.”

Satisfied, she nods. She stretches her neck and back and then looks down at the surface beneath her. “These counters are going to be awful to clean.”

not my best work bc I have the shits from spoiled oat milk but whatever.

sexy yellowjackets taglist: @il0veb0ttomsthem0vie @pnsteblnme @ludasgf @aphrodyk3 @marleymarleymarleymarley @szczurkanalowy @chaithetics @ahauandthesun @webism

[absdollievu]

wait cause hear me out enemies to lovers with cheer captain reader and student council president abby...

Clash of Queens

councilpresident!abby x cheercaptain!reader

Thanks for this request!!

You walk into the student council room like you own the place—because, frankly, you kind of do. Maybe not on paper, but everyone knows your presence fills the halls faster than the morning bell. Hair perfect, uniform skirt rolled just enough to test the rules, and that signature smile that gets people to say yes before they know what you asked.

Everyone except her.

Abby Anderson.

She’s already there, of course, seated at the head of the table like some kind of dictator in a blazer. Her arms are crossed, muscles flexing under that annoyingly well-fitted shirt, and her expression is carved out of stone.

“I see you’re late,” she says, not even bothering to look up from the agenda in front of her.

You toss your cheer bag onto an empty seat and smile sweetly. “Fashionably. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not seeing one,” she replies flatly.

God, she’s so infuriating. Always so serious, so above it all. Like she doesn’t understand that school isn’t just about grades and order and endless budget meetings—it’s about spirit. About heart. About you.

You slide into your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and lean forward like you’re about to say something innocent. “Anyway. I brought my proposal for the pep rally. Halloween theme. Costumes, music, dance battle—maybe even a little friendly competition between cheer squad and the football team.”

You hear a couple of the other council members mutter in interest, clearly intrigued. But Abby just sighs like you handed her a pile of garbage.

“Denied.”

Your head jerks. “Excuse me?”

“The school board already approved a fall budget. We don’t have funds for extra decorations or costumes. And a ‘dance battle’ is not an appropriate use of student time.”

You blink, jaw tight. “It’s literally a pep rally. It’s meant to build hype. Morale. You’d know that if you ever showed up to one.”

A flicker of something passes through her eyes—surprise, maybe—but it’s gone in an instant.

“I’m not required to attend school-sponsored popularity contests,” she says, cool and even.

You lean back, tongue pressing against your cheek as your eyes rake over her. “Right. Because being adored by the student body is so beneath you.”

“And being taken seriously is so beyond you, huh?”

Oof. That one stings. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

The room’s gone awkwardly quiet. No one wants to jump in the middle of this—of you and Abby, because this isn’t the first time you’ve clashed. It won’t be the last.

You’re already reaching into your folder again, pulling out your Plan B proposal—a cheaper version with student volunteers and repurposed decorations—when she speaks again.

“We’re voting. All in favor of tabling the rally discussion until next week?”

Hands go up. Hesitantly, but they do.

You glare at her as the motion passes. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

She finally meets your eyes, and for a second the room disappears. Her gaze is sharp and unreadable. “If I wanted to make your life hell, trust me, you’d know.”

You smile—sharp and sugar-sweet. “Looking forward to it, President Anderson.”

You gather your things dramatically, brushing past her as you leave, brushing into her shoulder just enough to make it clear it wasn’t accidental. She doesn’t move. She’s a brick wall.

But you feel her eyes on your back as you walk out.

Let her look.

This war’s just getting started.

⸻

The next day, your squad finds out the gym’s suddenly unavailable for practice.

“Council said it’s being ‘inspected for safety compliance,’” your co-captain reads off a clipboard, rolling her eyes.

You don’t need a name to know who’s behind it.

You stand there, fingers tightening around your megaphone, as your cheerleaders groan and shuffle around in their uniforms, uncertain. It’s a warm afternoon—too warm for them to be wasting it on politics.

You plaster on a smile. “Guess we’re practicing on the field, ladies! Hope she likes surround sound, because we’re blasting the playlist loud enough to rattle those student council windows!”

⸻

Abby’s in the middle of a meeting when it starts: the thump of bass, followed by the most obnoxiously upbeat cheer mix you could find—complete with airhorn effects and someone yelling “LET’S GET LOUD!” every 45 seconds.

You’re halfway through your eighth-count when you catch sight of her storming down the bleachers, her fists clenched and face flushed.

She doesn’t even wait for the music to cut before she’s in your face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You blink innocently. “Practicing.”

“With that?”

She gestures vaguely toward the speaker, which is currently blasting your playlist. You grin, loving every second of her irritation.

“Oh, I thought I’d bring the school spirit to you, since you’re always too busy hiding in your little council cave to come find it.”

“You’re disrupting—”

“You disrupted our practice first,” you snap. “Don’t act like you’re above the game when you’re already playing it.”

You don’t even realize how close the two of you have gotten until your cheer squad goes a little too quiet behind you. Abby’s standing right in front of you now—tall, broad, heat radiating off her like she’s seconds from combusting.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” she says, low enough that only you can hear it.

You raise a brow. “Remind me, what am I doing?”

She leans in closer, and for a terrifying moment you think she’s going to say something awful—but her eyes flick to your lips before snapping back up to your face.

“You’re trying to get under my skin.”

Your heartbeat skips. But you don’t let it show. “Then why does it feel like I’m already there?”

You step back with a smile and turn the volume up.

She doesn’t stop you.

⸻

The next few days are a chessboard of petty vengeance.

You make sure every poster for the upcoming blood drive somehow ends up covered with glitter and pom-poms. She mysteriously cancels your snack bar budget during the Homecoming game.

You swipe the last of her preferred printer paper. She “loses” your spirit week paperwork. She bans your team from using the PA system. You get the drama kids to start rehearsing next to her meetings.

It’s chaos.

It’s war.

And it’s kind of… fun.

Every time you pass each other in the halls, there’s this crackling energy between you. A silent challenge in every narrowed eye, every fake smile. Your friends are convinced you’re both either going to kill each other or hook up before midterms.

You deny it, of course.

But then comes the announcement.

⸻

“You and Abby Anderson,” the vice principal says, not looking up from his clipboard, “will be co-leading the Winter Formal Committee. Planning begins next week.”

You blink. “What?”

Abby, standing next to you in the office, speaks for the first time. “Absolutely not.”

“Principal’s orders,” he says. “You’re the top representatives of student life. It’ll look good for both of you.”

You can practically hear her grinding her teeth. You turn to her, your own voice sugary sweet.

“Guess we’re working together.”

She meets your gaze, eyes like ice.

“This isn’t over.”

You smile.

“Oh honey,” you whisper, stepping close again, “it hasn’t even started.”

⸻

[florencemtrash]

The Graveyard Shift: Chapter X

Simon Riley x f!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley is a lonely grave keeper in Victorian England who puts a marriage proposal ad in the London newspaper. He's ready to make his house a home, but can he convince his new wife that he can be her safe space, or will the secret she carries threaten their newfound happiness?

Warnings: abusive marriages (not Simon), allusions to SA (not explicit)

I have one more chapter and an epilogue planned so we're close to the end folks. If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist! This just helps me stay organized so I don't miss any requests. Thank you :)

The Graveyard Shift Masterlist

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Melting snow and perpetual rain created a slick of mud and grass that Simon couldn’t help but track inside. He stopped beneath the overhang Y/n had finally convinced him to put up in the yard and shook off his coat like a wet dog. Raindrops clung to his hair, dripping in front of his nose. He’d need to ask Y/n if she could trim it tonight. Gone were the days where he’d take a razor to his scalp, shaving it down to the skin and occasionally nicking the back of his neck where he couldn’t see. Now Y/n made an event out of washing his hair before shearing the sides as short as possible while leaving just enough at the top for her to run her fingers through… and just enough to pull. 

Simon grinned at the promise of warmth waiting inside and of a wife who was all too happy to comb through his hair with her soft, gentle fingers. Already he could smell fresh baked bread and a roaring fire inside — the logs crinkling like paper. 

The mist was so thick and the rain so loud that Simon didn’t hear the carriage rolling to a stop in front of the house, wheels clogged with mud, until a gentleman’s voice called out, “Hello! Mr. Riley?!” 

Simon begrudgingly turned, narrowing his eyes at the dark carriage standing in the pale mist.

A man clung to the open door of the carriage holding open an umbrella to protect himself from the worst of the rain. His suit was city-made with a fashionable lining of fur on the overcoat that would have cost months of Simon’s salary. His hair was similarly fashionable, slicked into a perfect coif with a coiled mustache to match. Simon ran his rough hand through his hair, sending the blond strands into a frenzy of raindrops. 

The man continued waving him over, as if the spirited movements of his gangly arm had the power to pull Simon into his sphere of influence. Simon waited a few moments just for the sake of it, then, after affixing his cap and coat once more, trudged up to the carriage. 

He was ushered inside, sinking into the empty seat beside the gentleman’s expensive black silk hat. 

The gentleman folded himself into the carriage across from Simon with all the grace of a paper crane. He glanced at the mud sucking at the bottom of the grave keeper’s boots and the old coat he’d shoved himself — the one he’d refused to replace once Y/n had put in the effort of re-stitching the hem and embroidering the holes. The gentleman was second-guessing inviting this man into his carriage. He might stain the upholstery.  

“Mr. Simon Riley, I presume?” He asked, keeping his voice light and pleasant. Congenial. “The grave keeper?” 

“Who is asking?” The voice that left Simon was unfamiliar even to his ears. He’d become accustomed to speaking softly around Y/n that he’d forgotten the gruffness he was capable of. Evidently, when he was separated from his wife, he was quick to enter into a dark mood. But it had been the end of a long, cold, and wet day amongst the graves. He didn’t know how long this gentleman intended to keep him soaking and tired in a rich carriage, but he hoped this meeting would be brief. 

Simon’s tone seemed to take the gentleman aback. He cleared his throat and puffed up his chest to at least try and match Simon’s imposing stature. But while Simon looked cramped in the carriage, too expansive and wild to fit, the man was perfectly arranged and docile. Like a decorative bird in a cage.

“My name is Thomas Hall, son of William Hall. I believe we have some business to discuss.” 

“What business?” 

“Business regarding your wife, Y/n Riley.” 

“She’s inside the house now. If you have business to discuss with Y/n we can do it there.” 

Thomas Hall grew uncomfortable when her name rolled off Simon’s tongue. It was so natural, so gentle and precious in the way it was spoken that Thomas began to worry that his news would create more push back than originally believed. 

He scratched at the silk lining of his hat with perfectly manicured fingernails. “I believe the nature of our discussion would best be held… outside the home, if you catch my understanding. Away from the wife.” Simon frowned. “I’ve found lodging at the Crown and Hammer in town. Please, allow me the honor of treating you to a meal.” 

“No.” The answer was so curt, so final and rude by London standards that Thomas could only blink. He reminded himself that this was a countryman he was speaking to. He couldn’t fully fault the man for his uncouth manners. 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“If you won’t speak it in front of my wife, speak it to me here. I won’t be dragged to town with her waiting for me.” 

“Perhaps you could go inside then and inform her of your intentions of a night in town.” 

“No.” He repeated. Simon didn’t want to go into town, least of all alone. 

Thomas Hall’s expression turned dark. He drummed his fingers on his knee. “Very well.” He rummaged around his coat for papers he all but threw onto Simon’s lap. “A year ago you put out an advert for a wife, yes?” Simon only nodded. “And a young woman by the name of Y/n Hall answered, correct?”

Simon stared him dead in the eye without blinking. Very little phased him, and very little frustrated him more than this kind of questioning. 

Undeterred by Simon’s silence, Thomas continued. “Y/n Hall was formerly married to my father, William Hall I. God give him peace. She was — is — a wretched woman. A bastard. A harlot in every sense of the word. It was only by my father’s good will that she was taken into the family. When my father passed away, my elder brother was tasked with maintaining the household and taking care of my stepmother. You can imagine my surprise and horror when I learned he’d signed her marriage papers so soon after our father’s death. It is improper. The worst sort of disrespect upon my father’s good name. And then I read the cursed document.” 

Simon was watching him carefully now, like a wolf tracking a deer. Thomas Hall looked far older than Y/n. Too old. Perhaps even older than Simon himself. When he examined Thomas Hall further, he noticed the thinning patch at the top of his head. The pitch black of his hair which only dye could mimic. 

He thought back to Y/n’s skittishness when he’d first brought her home. The way she’d laid so still in bed next to him, terrified and revolted by every touch. Like she was waiting for an ordeal to be over. 

Simon felt his stomach turn. “Your brother signed the legal documents. I see no reason why you’ve come all the way from London to tell me that fact.” 

Thomas Hall bristled at the jab. “How could you—do you not comprehend what I mean to tell you?” 

“You’re using many words to say very little.” 

Thomas’s face turned red. It was a terrible look. “She… she tampered with those documents. If you could read what was written you would see she altered the relationship between herself and my brother. She has misled you into thinking she was never married and a virgin. This marriage, it—it is a sham!” 

Simon’s eyes darkened into narrow slits. He smoothly opened the door of the carriage, exposing them both to the bitter wind and slicing rain. Simon jumped to the ground, splattering mud on the side of the carriage. 

“Mr. Riley! Mr. Riley!” Thomas Hall exclaimed, grabbing onto the doorframe.

“We will discuss this inside with my wife.”

“Mr—” He huffed indignantly, gathering his umbrella and stepping carefully out onto the water-slicked road. “Stay with the carriage,” he ordered the driver before hurrying after Simon to the door. 

Y/n was humming as she peeled apples at the table, only stopping when she heard the creak of the door opening. “You’re late, Simon. Is everything—” The knife fell to the table with a clatter. 

Simon looked furious, bristling with cold rage as he stepped to the side and let one Thomas Hall into the sanctuary of his home. The bloodlessness of Y/n’s face was all Simon needed to know as he slammed the door shut so hard the windows rattled. 

Thomas Hall removed his hat, tipping his head forward in a greasy bow before straightening. “Stepmother.” He threw the name like an insult and Y/n flinched. 

“This man — Thomas — caught me outside. Told me many things.” 

“Simon,” Y/n started to shake, feeling her fear grip her until she could scarcely breathe. “Simon, please.” 

Thomas Hall laughed, loud and pompous. Riley stood up from his place at Y/n’s feet, placing himself directly in front of her and growling low in his throat. 

“The harlot asks for mercy now that her ruse has been uncovered.” 

Y/n swallowed thickly. “There was no ruse.” 

He threw the marriage papers at her and she stumbled back, struggling to keep hold of the sheafs of paper as they slipped and slid to the floor. She didn’t need to read them to know what they were — a copy of Simon’s advert, every correspondence between her and Simon that the local Bishop had managed, the marriage license… the forged papers concealing her previous marriage to William Hall. 

She couldn’t help the tears that burned her eyes and slid down her cheeks. 

“William might have been willing to allow this behavior, but I will not.” 

“Why?” She choked out. “Why does this matter to you?” 

“My father was a good man.” He spit out, advancing on her. “I will not allow his memory to be tainted by a wife who didn’t have the decency to wait a month after his death before lifting her skirts for another.” 

“He is not my husband. Simon is my husband and I am his wife.”

“A sham wife!” He screeched at her. “An entire marriage built on lies and manipulation.” He shook his finger indignantly at her, “My father was a saint to have married you. A disgraceful bastard, you should have sworn off marriage for life after the kindness he bestowed upon you.” 

“Kindness?” She was crying now without the ability to stop it, “Was it kindness that had him beat me? Goodness that raised his hand to me and every wife before him? He didn’t marry me out of virtue. He married me because he knew I was the only kind of woman that could never leave him.”

“Why you—” 

Neither of them heard Simon slip up behind Thomas Hall. Rage made him unnaturally quiet. But it was hard to mistake the way he stopped Thomas’s arm in the air and held on fast. No matter how the man pulled, Simon didn’t let him move, not until the indignant expression left his face and was replaced by discomfort… then fear. 

“You dare to walk into my home and raise a hand to my wife.” 

“She—” 

“Save your venom for the devils.” Simon’s voice was low — deadly — and for the first time since she’d known him, his demeanor matched the danger of his body. “No matter the circumstances of our marriage, Y/n is my wife and no longer of any concern to you. Now I suggest you leave and never come back. I want you out of town by sunrise.” 

“Or what?” Thomas seethed.

Simon narrowed his eyes, but the rest of his face betrayed nothing but quiet, deadly rage. “There are many empty graves to be filled.”

Thomas Hall started, then narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?” He tried to sound as strong as the man before him, but his words came out in a sputter. The truth was his city guises, his expensive clothes, and his puffed chest were shadows of a strength money could only try and imitate. 

Simon was the real thing.

Even with his shabby clothes, his short-cropped hair, and crooked features he was a hundred times the man Thomas Hall aspired to be.

“I don’t need threats. I was only stating a fact. Now get out.” Simon flung his arm to the side, sending the well-dressed man stumbling. He straightened his coat and hat, muttering something beneath his breath about bastards and countrymen before slamming his door on the way out. 

Simon strode over and locked it, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together like metal.

The herbs hanging on the ceiling swung wildly. The windows shook, then stilled. Soon the sounds of the carriage rolling on slick wheels were swallowed up by rain.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, holding onto her stomach as she waited for Simon to say something. Anything. 

He only leaned his head on the door, breathing heavily with his arms braced on the doorframe.

“Simon… I’m so… I’m so sorry.” When he remained silent, she felt her heart begin to fracture. “Simon.” His name came out in a warble. “Simon, please—”

“You were married before?” His voice was low. Sounded like it was coming from miles away.

“...Yes.” 

“How long?” 

Y/n swallowed thickly. “Nine years.” 

“Nine—” He swung around, knocking into the umbrella stand and sending it crashing to the ground. Y/n flinched when it slammed into the floor, stripping away her tears and sniffling. 

Simon softened immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I only…” Simon picked up the umbrella, sliding it back to its rightful place. He leaned against the wall, bending over like it was suddenly hard to breathe. “You were only a child.” 

“I had no other choice,” Y/n tried to explain herself, “I…I was of illegitimate birth. My mother was gone, I—” She was trying so very hard not to cry. “I didn’t know what to do when he… when he came to me, but I swear Simon it meant nothing. I—” 

“You said he beat you. He...” Simon thought back to those first nights when they shared a bed. The way she would sit and wait for him or lay flat on her back and never move like she was expecting him to… 

Y/n let out a shaky breath and nodded. Simon swore under his breath. 

“Is that why you… why you were so afraid of marrying me?” 

“Yes,” Y/n finally whispered, “I was afraid you would be worse than he was. That you’d…” 

When Simon walked towards her, she flinched, dropping the rest of the papers to the ground. He paused, then sank to his knees, picking up every loose sheaf and placing them on the table. He gently grasped the back of Y/n’s thighs, pressing his forehead to her stomach, and breathed in so slow and deep it was like he was taking the entire room into his lungs. Like he was trying to breathe his wife into his chest and keep her there. 

Safe. 

Protected.

Anger and sadness existed so close to one another in Simon’s heart. All the rage he’d focused on Thomas Hall disappeared when he was left with only his wife to care for. To think that she’d spent all those years with that family — with that disgrace of a man she called a husband — and been so afraid that she’d flinched every time Simon drew near. It made him sick to his stomach. Made something deep within him twist like an arm wrenched from his socket. 

He peered up at her, reaching up to brush away at the tears collecting on her cheeks. Even when kneeling on the floor he never diminished. Never became smaller than he was. If anything, he grew in Y/n’s heart as he closed his eyes and pulled her even closer. 

“I will never be like him, Y/n. I swear this to you. I will never raise a hand against you. Never force you into my bed. Never stop protecting you. Never leave you until death comes for me.” 

Y/n began to weep, shoulders shaking as she slowly sank to the floor. Simon gathered her into his arms, tears now streaming down his own cheeks as she tucked herself into his chest and held on fast to his shirt. He soothed for the hour it took for her to finally stop crying. When her tears dried and her shuddering breaths turned quiet and slow with sleep, he carried her up to bed. He took off her shoes and her day clothes, leaving them neatly in the wardrobe, and tucked her into her blankets. 

He watched her dream with an ache in his chest he couldn’t stifle. She was soft as wax in sleep, lashes fluttering over her tear-stained cheeks like wisps of wind. Riley, upon seeing that Simon was not joining her in bed, took his spot, leaning against Y/n and resting his head on her stomach. 

“Watch her while I’m gone, boy,” Simon whispered. 

He slid downstairs, taking one long look at the pile of papers on the table before pulling on his hat and coat and disappearing into the misty road. 

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Taglist: @marigold-morelli @camcvpidd @slightlypossessed @pistachioslife @imarotternotawriter @enfppuff @squishytap @taxidermypossum @sawendel @nicolebarnes @other-fandoms-reblogs @blush-haze @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @blumenkorba @little-mini-me-world @chxosangxl @rotten-womb @queen-of-bad-ideas

[favefandomimagines]

It's A Small World (f.l)

Summary: Frank and Y/N's kids play an unknowing game of matchmaker

Request: A single parent AU for Frank Langdon where both reader and Frank are single parents and work at PTMC but have never had a patient together or interacted with each other. Until Frank's son and your daughter become friends are daycare and introducing you and Frank to each other

AN: this was cute lol i got carried away AND I aged up the kids

Dr. Frank Langdon didn’t consider himself a complicated man. He worked long hours in the ER, saved lives, came home, and poured all his remaining energy into being a good father to his six-year-old son, Ethan. That was his rhythm—predictable, focused, exhausting, and full of purpose. He didn’t date. He didn’t entertain distractions. He didn’t have time for casual workplace friendships, let alone anything more personal.

And yet, there was something about Dr. Y/N that had always lingered in the corner of his awareness.

They’d never spoken beyond quick, efficient exchanges about consults or patient handoffs. They passed each other in the break room, nodded in respect in trauma meetings, occasionally held the elevator door for one another during grueling night shifts.

She was one of the few people in the hospital who carried themselves with the same laser-focused intent he did. No small talk. No theatrics. Just solid, dependable care. And like him, she wore the kind of exhaustion that only single parents knew—a subtle, heavy kind that settled deep in the shoulders.

He knew from an offhand comment in the resident lounge a few months back that she had a daughter. A six-year-old, just like Ethan. That detail had stuck with him, though he couldn’t explain why.

Y/N, on her end, had her own quiet curiosity about Dr. Langdon. He was respected, professional, maybe a little stiff—but never arrogant. There was a gentleness to the way he treated pediatric patients that she noticed.

A hint of tired tenderness in his eyes during late shifts that made her wonder who he went home to. When someone mentioned once that he had a son, the puzzle pieces clicked in her mind. It made sense—the weariness, the restraint, the careful way he maintained emotional boundaries.

So when she saw him that Thursday afternoon, standing outside Kennedy Ridge Elementary School with a coffee cup in hand and a distant look in his eyes, she almost didn’t recognize him out of his hospital scrubs.

It was only when he called her name that it fully registered.

"Dr. Y/N?" His voice held equal parts confusion and curiosity.

She turned, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. "Dr. Langdon? I didn’t know you had a kid at Kennedy Ridge."

"Yeah. Ethan’s in first grade. You?"

"Lily’s in Ms. Callahan’s class. First grade, too."

He blinked. "Huh. Small world."

Before they could say more, the school doors opened and a flood of kids poured out. Amid the chaos of bright backpacks and squeaky sneakers, Ethan and Lily emerged—holding hands, laughing like they'd just shared the funniest joke in the world.

"Daddy!" Ethan shouted, sprinting toward Frank.

"Mommy!" Lily ran straight into Y/N’s arms.

The two doctors watched in mild shock as the kids waved excitedly to each other from their respective parents' sides.

"You two know each other?" Y/N asked.

Ethan nodded, bouncing on his toes. "Lily's my best friend! We sit next to each other every day and play at recess."

"We’re making a comic book together," Lily added proudly.

Frank arched an eyebrow at Y/N. “Guess they’re closer than we are.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Clearly.”

Ethan’s eyes suddenly lit up. He turned toward his dad with all the intensity of a boy with a mission. “Dad! Can Lily and Dr. Y/N come to dinner with us tonight? Please? It’s my birthday, and I want to celebrate with them!”

Frank blinked, caught off guard. “Ethan, you know the plan. It’s just us tonight—pizza, movie, ice cream. That’s the tradition.”

“But it would be more fun if they came,” Ethan insisted. “Just this once? Please?”

Frank looked at Y/N, half hoping she’d jump in and help him talk some sense into the kid. But Lily tugged on her mom’s sleeve and added her own chorus of pleading.

“Can we, Mommy? Pleeeaaase? I wanna go to Ethan’s house! You always say we should do more fun stuff!”

Y/N opened her mouth, glanced at Frank, then at Lily’s eager face. She sighed.

“Well… if Dr. Langdon doesn’t mind…”

Frank opened his hands in resignation, smiling slightly. “I guess I’m outnumbered.”

“Yay!” both kids shouted, spinning in a little circle of victory.

Y/N gave him a sheepish glance. “Sorry to crash the party.”

Frank shook his head. “Honestly, it’s kind of nice. Gives me a face to put to all those ‘Ethan’s best friend Lily’ stories.”

“Same,” she replied. “I’ve been hearing about Ethan since the first week of school.”

As they walked toward the parking lot—two tired doctors turned reluctant playdate chaperones—Frank couldn’t help but feel that something in his world had shifted slightly. Not in a big, obvious way. Just a small nudge. Like a door opening that neither of them had realized was closed.

And as Ethan and Lily skipped ahead of them, chatting about which toppings belonged on the “perfect pizza,” Frank caught Y/N’s eye and offered a quiet smile.

"Let’s just hope they don’t team up against us forever."

She smiled back. “Oh, they definitely will.”

||

Frank Langdon’s apartment was a modest, lived-in space. Not messy, but far from the pristine, cold setups he remembered from his pre-parent days.

Toy trucks lined the bottom shelf of the bookshelf, a half-finished Lego spaceship sat on the coffee table, and Ethan’s school art projects decorated the fridge with colorful magnets. It was home. It was Ethan’s world—and by extension, his own.

He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. 5:52 p.m.

Ethan stood by the front window in his favorite dinosaur pajamas, hopping excitedly from foot to foot.

“Dad, are they coming? What if they changed their mind? What if they got lost?”

“They live ten minutes away, and they’re not going to abandon you on your birthday,” Frank said, amused.

Ethan crossed his arms with dramatic flair. “You don’t know that.”

Frank gave him a mock-serious look. “You think Dr. Y/N would stand up your best friend’s birthday party?”

Ethan thought about that. “No,” he admitted with a grin. “She’s too nice.”

Frank raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t sure “nice” was the word he’d use to describe Y/N. Smart, steady, maybe a little guarded—but not unfriendly.

Nice wasn’t something you could afford to be all the time in a hospital like theirs. But something about seeing her outside the ER—just a woman and her daughter—had already shifted that image in his mind.

The doorbell rang.

Ethan made a sound like a kettle boiling over and bolted toward it. Frank beat him to it.

“Slow down, buddy. You’ll take the door off the hinges.”

He opened the door, and there they were—Y/N in jeans and a soft sweater, holding Lily’s hand. Lily wore a sparkly headband and clutched a wrapped gift in her other hand.

“Happy birthday, Ethan!” Lily said brightly, holding out the gift.

Ethan beamed. “Thanks! Come in!”

Frank stepped aside, trying not to notice how nice Y/N looked in casual clothes.

“Hope we’re not too early,” she said.

“No, perfect timing,” Frank replied. “Pizza’s on the way, and we’ve got ice cream in the freezer.”

“Solid plan,” Y/N said, slipping her shoes off and glancing around the apartment. “This place is cozy.”

“It’s got everything a six-year-old needs,” Frank said with a chuckle. “And just enough sanity left for me.”

The kids ran off immediately toward Ethan’s toy corner, already discussing who would be which character in their imaginary game.

Y/N stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment before Frank gestured toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something? Water? Soda? I’ve got half a bottle of wine if you’re feeling dangerous.”

She smirked. “Let’s not scar our kids tonight. Water’s great.”

He poured her a glass and leaned against the counter as she took a sip, looking around the apartment with subtle curiosity.

“You’ve done a good job here,” she said. “I know how hard it is to make a space feel like home when you’re working hospital hours and raising a kid.”

Frank nodded. “You don’t really get a blueprint for this stuff. You just figure it out.”

She smiled. “That’s exactly what I always say.”

He looked at her for a beat, something about that shared sentiment resonating more than he expected. Before he could reply, the doorbell rang again—pizza.

Dinner was chaotic in the best way. The kids devoured slices with unfiltered glee, Ethan telling Lily all about the movie they were going to watch—The Iron Giant, his annual birthday pick.

Y/N and Frank sat side by side at the table, occasionally exchanging glances when the kids said something funny or weird or wildly inappropriate.

“Ethan,” Frank said at one point, “maybe don’t tell people that I burned the cookies last year and almost set off the fire alarm.”

“But you did!” Ethan cried between giggles.

Y/N was laughing too hard to defend him. “I’m not judging. I once tried to bake a cake for Lily’s birthday and forgot the sugar. We had a sweet-looking brick of regret.”

“Sounds like a parenting rite of passage,” Frank said, grinning.

By the time the movie started, the four of them were settled in the living room. Ethan and Lily curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the rug, and Frank settled into the recliner, trying not to notice how close they all felt. It had been a long time since he’d had company that wasn’t strictly medical or parental.

Somewhere around the middle of the movie, Lily’s head dropped to a pillow next to her, and Ethan’s eyes fluttered shut a few moments later. Both kids were out cold before the movie ended, their little bodies tangled in sleep.

Y/N turned to look at Frank and smiled softly. “Thanks again. I didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t the plan. But… I’m glad it happened.”

She looked back at the kids. “They’re really good together.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

There was a silence between them then—not uncomfortable, but heavy with shared understanding. The kind that only two people who had fought similar silent battles could sit in together.

Frank cleared his throat. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course.”

He looked at her, carefully. “Is… Lily’s dad in the picture?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “No. He left the second I found out I was pregnant. Signed his rights away without blinking. Haven’t heard from him since.”

Frank’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just been the two of us since day one. We’re good. I used to think she was missing something… but she’s not.”

There was something fierce and proud in her voice, and Frank admired it.

She tilted her head slightly. “What about Ethan’s mom?”

Frank let out a slow breath. “She sees him every other weekend. That’s the arrangement. I’ve got full custody, though. We tried the shared thing at first, but… it wasn’t right for Ethan.”

Y/N nodded, a quiet understanding passing between them.

“He’s a good kid,” she said. “That doesn’t happen by accident.”

Frank smiled. “Neither does Lily.”

The room was quiet again except for the soft hum of credits rolling.

Y/N stood slowly, stretching her arms. “We should get going. I’ll carry Lily.”

Frank moved to help gently shift Ethan so they could extract their kids without waking them. As Y/N cradled her daughter in her arms and headed toward the door, she turned back one last time.

“Thanks for letting us crash your tradition.”

He shook his head, watching her with something new in his eyes. “It might be the start of a better one.”

She smiled—genuinely this time. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

As the door closed behind her, Frank lingered there for a moment, staring into the empty hallway. Something unspoken had passed between them tonight. Not just shared parenthood. Not just convenience.

Something that felt like the beginning of… something else.

||

Six months passed, but the night of Ethan’s birthday never faded from Frank’s mind.

At first, it was subtle. A shift in awareness. Y/N became more than just a colleague. She was someone he looked forward to seeing, whether it was in the hospital corridor or during a shared coffee break. They weren’t just doctors working side by side anymore—they were parents who had bonded over pizza, a movie, and the gentle chaos of their kids falling asleep on the couch.

It started with short conversations outside the hospital. They exchanged school updates at pickup. Swapped notes on how to help six-year-olds navigate social studies projects and math homework. Then came the weekend playdates—"for the kids," they both claimed. Movie afternoons at Frank’s apartment. Trips to the park where Ethan and Lily would run ahead, giggling, while Frank and Y/N trailed behind, chatting about everything and nothing.

One chilly Saturday morning, Y/N brought over cinnamon rolls and coffee. She and Frank sat at his kitchen table while the kids built a blanket fort in the living room. She laughed as he wiped frosting off Ethan’s nose and watched him look at her like she was part of something he'd always hoped for but never quite had.

That was the first time she let herself really look at Frank—not just as a coworker, or a dad, or even a friend—but as a man. A quiet, steady, strong man who never once made her feel like she was too much, or not enough.

He noticed the way she looked at him that morning, too.

He didn't say anything. Not then.

But something shifted between them.

They started texting after hours—not just work updates or school reminders, but real conversations. Frank found himself telling her about his college years, the patients that kept him up at night, his dreams that never made it off the shelf. Y/N told him about her love of old French films, how she used to paint before motherhood took over her time, how she still sometimes cried on Lily’s birthday when no one was around.

They never labeled what was happening.

But they both felt it.

At work, it was subtle. A slightly longer pause when their eyes met across the trauma floor. A faint smile exchanged over charts. A softness that only they seemed to notice in each other.

Outside of work, it became harder to ignore.

Frank started looking forward to the weekends in a way he hadn’t since Ethan was born. Y/N and Lily became part of his life—seamlessly, naturally, like they'd always belonged. He loved how Lily called him "Dr. Frank" and made him taste-test every questionable dessert she and Ethan created. He loved how Y/N slipped off her shoes the moment she walked into his apartment, how she hummed while pouring juice for the kids, how she laughed—unfiltered, rare, beautiful.

He didn’t know when it became love.

Maybe it was the night he found Lily asleep on his shoulder during a movie, and Y/N looked at them like they were the safest thing she'd ever seen.

Maybe it was when she held Ethan’s hand after he scraped his knee, and Frank watched his son lean into her without hesitation.

Maybe it was when she fell asleep on his couch after a long shift and he covered her with a blanket and just watched her breathe, overwhelmed by the tenderness he felt.

Y/N didn’t know when she fell either.

Maybe it was the way he carried Ethan when he was too tired to walk, without complaint, with practiced strength.

Maybe it was the way Frank always made her feel like she could rest when he was around. Like she didn’t have to carry the whole world by herself anymore.

Maybe it was the night he told her, quietly, how scared he’d been the first time he had to take Ethan’s temperature alone and couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

“I was sure I was doing everything wrong,” he admitted.

“You weren’t,” she said, and kissed his temple without thinking.

That was the first kiss.

It wasn’t passionate, or desperate—it was quiet and necessary. A kiss that said, “I see you. I’ve been where you are. And I’m still here.”

They didn’t talk about it after.

They didn’t need to.

It just… continued.

Little moments—fingers brushing when they passed each other the remote, hands lingering on the small of backs, lips finding each other in the kitchen while the kids were upstairs.

They were dating.

Secretly. Quietly. Carefully.

Not because they were ashamed, but because they didn’t want to confuse their kids. Ethan and Lily were still best friends—inseparable. And while Frank and Y/N’s relationship had grown, their top priority remained the same: stability, consistency, and love for their children.

“I think we should wait to tell them,” Y/N had said one night as she curled against Frank on the couch.

“I agree,” Frank murmured, his arm wrapped around her. “But sometimes I want to tell Ethan so bad. He keeps asking why I smile at you like a goofball.”

Y/N chuckled. “Lily asked me if you were my ‘hospital boyfriend.’ I think they suspect something.”

“Smart kids.”

“We should’ve expected that. They’re ours.”

They kissed slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

And then, one Friday night, a rare miracle occurred.

Both kids were invited to the same birthday sleepover. Y/N had dropped them off at a classmate’s house, complete with sleeping bags and overnight pajamas. When she returned to her car, she pulled out her phone and typed a single message.

Y/N: (7:13 p.m.) They’re in. You alone?

Frank: (7:14 p.m.) Completely. I even bought snacks we don’t have to share.

Y/N: On my way.

When she arrived at his apartment, he opened the door and pulled her in before she could say a word. Their mouths met in a hungry, overdue kiss—one that spoke of restraint finally let go.

No kids. No early wakeups. No distractions.

Just them.

They didn’t make it past the living room before clothes started to come off. Hands gripped, mouths moved, breath tangled. It was soft and passionate and utterly consuming. Months of tension unraveled between kisses and gasps.

They made it to the couch, then the hallway wall, then the bedroom.

It was messy. Real. Desperate in that way that only two people who had waited too long could understand.

Y/N laughed breathlessly into his chest as he kissed her neck. “This feels illegal.”

Frank grinned against her skin. “If it is, I’m not sorry.”

And then—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Frank’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.

He groaned. “Ignore it.”

Y/N paused, already reaching for her shirt. “It could be one of the kids.”

He blinked, sobering. “Right. You’re right.”

He answered.

“Hey, Carrie—what’s up?” he asked, sitting upright.

It was Carrie, the mom hosting the sleepover.

“Hey, Frank. I’m so sorry to bother you. Ethan had a nightmare and really wants to come home. He asked for you specifically. We’re in the car now, almost to your place.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

He hung up and turned to Y/N, who was already half-dressed and smiling sheepishly.

“Well, that was short-lived.”

Frank laughed and flopped back against the bed. “This is our life.”

She leaned down and kissed him, slow and tender. “We’ll try again. Maybe next year.”

“Or in another six years when they leave for college,” he muttered.

Y/N pulled on her coat and tiptoed out just as headlights swept across the window.

She smiled to herself as she got in her car.

They weren’t just friends anymore. They weren’t just colleagues.

They were something real.

And soon… it would be time to tell the kids.

||

The morning after the failed romantic evening, Frank found himself sipping lukewarm coffee at the kitchen island, watching Ethan munch on cereal with half-lidded eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept well after the nightmare, but at least he was back in his familiar surroundings — his own bed, his dad’s pancakes waiting, and cartoons humming faintly in the background.

Frank rubbed a hand down his face. Across town, Y/N was likely doing the same — sitting across from Lily at their breakfast table, dodging unspoken questions and thinking the same thing Frank was:

It’s time.

The secret was becoming harder to keep. Ethan had a knack for noticing details — like how Frank’s shirts sometimes smelled like vanilla after Y/N hugged him goodbye. Or how Lily had accidentally referred to “our movie night with Dr. Frank” in front of Ethan last week when Frank had been at their place.

Their kids were too observant.

And they deserved to know.

That afternoon, Y/N and Lily came over for a movie and snacks — one of their usual hangouts. But this time, something was different. The air had weight. The parents shared a look behind the kids’ backs as Ethan and Lily spread popcorn across the living room floor like it was treasure.

Frank cleared his throat as he handed out juice boxes. “Hey, uh, you guys mind if we pause the movie before we start it?”

Ethan, mouth full of gummy bears, looked confused. “Why?”

Lily sat crisscross on the couch, holding a teddy bear. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No, no,” Y/N said quickly, kneeling beside them. “Not at all. Actually… we just wanted to talk to you both about something important.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Are we moving?”

“No,” Frank said, chuckling. “No one's moving.”

Lily gasped. “Is someone sick?!”

Y/N laughed gently and reached out to tuck a curl behind Lily’s ear. “No one’s sick either.”

“Then what is it?” Ethan asked, now looking between them with his serious, six-year-old stare.

Frank took a deep breath. His voice was calm but a little unsteady. “You know how sometimes two people spend a lot of time together and… realize they really care about each other?”

Ethan blinked. “Like Batman and Catwoman?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said, suppressing a laugh. “Except, uh… fewer masks.”

Frank smiled at her before turning back to the kids. “Well, your mom and I… we’ve been spending time together. More than just hanging out with you guys.”

Ethan’s mouth dropped open. Lily leaned forward slowly.

“You mean…” Lily said dramatically, “you’re in looooove?”

Y/N blinked, cheeks pink. “Uh… well, yes. We are.”

There was a full beat of silence.

Then Ethan turned to Lily, eyes wide.

“I TOLD YOU!” he shouted, jumping to his feet.

Lily shrieked, pointing at Ethan like they were contestants in a game show. “I said they kissed! I SAID IT!”

“I saw her hug him goodbye once and I KNEW!”

“Ha! Loser owes me a pudding cup!”

Y/N and Frank sat there, stunned for a moment as their kids erupted in excited chaos, high-fiving and laughing like they’d just cracked a top-secret code.

“I thought they might freak out,” Frank whispered under his breath.

Y/N laughed in relief. “I underestimated how invested they already were.”

Ethan spun around to face them. “Does this mean we can have double movie nights now?”

“Can we go on a vacation all together? Like to Disneyland?”

“Can we live in one house so I don’t have to carry my stuffed animals back and forth?”

“Wait—are you getting married now?!”

Frank held up both hands. “Whoa! Let’s slow it down, guys.”

Y/N was laughing so hard she had to lean against the couch. “You two are already planning our lives.”

Lily grinned. “Well… duh. We’re a family now.”

The word hung in the air.

A family.

Not a patchwork, not an arrangement — something whole, something intentional. It wasn’t a decision Frank or Y/N had made lightly, but hearing it come from Lily’s lips made it real in a new way.

Frank leaned down and pulled Ethan into a hug. “I love you, bud.”

Ethan squeezed him back. “I love you too. Can Lily and I get matching pajamas if we’re siblings now?”

Y/N pretended to gasp. “Only if I get a pair too.”

The rest of the afternoon was joyfully chaotic. The kids insisted on baking “celebration cupcakes” — which mostly ended with batter in their hair and flour on the floor. Frank and Y/N danced around each other in the kitchen, sharing glances and little touches they no longer had to hide.

Later that night, after the kids had passed out from sugar and excitement, Y/N leaned against Frank on the couch.

“Feels like we’ve been holding our breath for months,” she whispered.

Frank rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I know. But it was worth the wait.”

She looked up at him, her voice soft. “They love us… together.”

“They really do,” he said.

“And I love you,” she added, almost shyly.

Frank turned toward her, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N.”

They kissed, slow and sure.

Outside, the world went on — cars passed, the wind shifted, life moved forward.

But in that quiet moment, inside that home, four people who used to be two pairs had finally become one whole.

One messy, loud, wonderful, perfectly imperfect family.

||

It had been almost a year since Ethan’s sixth birthday—almost a year since Frank and Y/N had gone from careful colleagues and single parents to something neither of them had dared to hope for: a real family.

They’d built a life together. Slowly, intentionally. The kids now had toothbrushes and bunk beds at the same house. Sunday breakfasts became sacred. Movie nights were a ritual. The calendar was full of school plays, hospital shifts, and “family day” scribbled in marker across every other weekend.

There was laughter. Stability. A rhythm that made the chaos of parenting feel like something beautiful.

But Frank had one more piece to set in place.

He'd been carrying the ring in his coat pocket for weeks—waiting for the right moment. But every time he saw Y/N reading with Lily curled up beside her or laughing at Ethan’s knock-knock jokes at dinner, he realized: there was no perfect time.

Just the right one.

So he made one.

It started with a trip to the park—the same one where the four of them had shared their first “unofficial” outing as a blended family. The sun was low, casting a golden haze across the grass. Y/N sat on a picnic blanket, flipping through a book, while the kids played on the jungle gym.

Frank checked his watch. Right on time.

“Hey, Lil,” he called.

Lily ran over, cheeks pink, her ponytail bouncing.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” he chuckled, crouching down to meet her eyes. “But I do need to ask you something really important.”

Her expression turned serious. “Okay…”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box—not the ring box, but something else entirely. He opened it to reveal a delicate, silver necklace with a heart-shaped charm and the word daughter engraved on one side.

Lily gasped, eyes wide. “Is that for me?”

Frank nodded. “Lily… you’re already my family. You have been for a long time. But I wanted to ask you if it’s okay—if I marry your mom, and if I can also be your dad. Officially.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “Really?”

He smiled softly. “Really. Only if you want that, though. I know I’m not your dad by blood, but—”

Lily tackled him in a hug before he could finish. “YES! Yes, yes, yes!”

Frank blinked, surprised—and then hugged her tightly. “Okay, then. We’re in this together.”

She pulled back and wiped her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Can I tell Ethan?”

Frank laughed. “Not yet. We’ve got one more thing to do.”

Back at the blanket, Y/N looked up as Lily came sprinting toward her, out of breath and bursting with barely-contained energy.

“Hey, what’s got you so—”

“Hi, hi, don’t move!” Lily said dramatically, waving her hands. “Close your eyes!”

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. “Should I be worried?”

“Just do it,” Lily insisted.

Y/N obeyed, and Frank stepped forward from behind her. He took a deep breath, pulled the velvet ring box from his pocket, and dropped to one knee.

“Okay,” Lily said, bouncing excitedly. “Now open them!”

Y/N opened her eyes… and froze.

Frank, kneeling. The kids beaming beside him. A ring in his hand—simple, timeless, perfect.

“Oh my God…”

Frank swallowed, suddenly nervous, though everything in his soul told him this was right.

“Y/N,” he said, “this past year with you and Lily has been the best of my life. I didn’t know I could be this happy again. You’ve made me laugh, kept me grounded, and shown Ethan what it means to have someone who loves us both just as we are.”

He glanced at the kids.

“And with their help, I wanted to ask… will you marry me?”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes instantly. She looked at Lily, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Then at Ethan, who had pulled a flower out of his pocket and was holding it out solemnly.

“For you,” he whispered.

She took it with a watery laugh, then looked back at Frank.

“Yes,” she whispered, then louder, “Yes!”

The kids exploded in celebration.

Frank stood up and wrapped her in his arms, lifting her off the ground slightly as she laughed and kissed him. He slid the ring onto her finger—hands shaking just a little—before Lily tackled them both in a hug, Ethan right behind her.

“We’re gonna be a real family!” Lily cheered.

“You’ve always been one,” Frank whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Now it’s just official.”

[sparrows4bats]

Another Damian as Selinas Sidekick AU

I love the idea that Damian becomes a doctor so much, but I am also aware that he is a little adrenaline junkie and would be bored and miss vigilantism.

So, instead of going to his father and asking for the occasional patrol or spar. Damian decides to go to Selina with his boredom.

Selina and he have bonded over the years. Their shared love of cats, their rough past, and their very different yet complicated relationship to the batman. So Damian meets her for coffee every couple of weeks to vent.

It's therapeutic, and Damian quite likes having someone who listens to his side of things without rushing to defend everyone else. Selina has been around a long time and is well aware of the flaws of his father and siblings. She understands his frustration and the fact that it doesn't change how much he loves his family.

Selina has a soft spot for the boy who was so hurt and angry when she first met him but decided his own path to helping people. So when Damian tells her how he misses the adrenaline, the adventure, but can't hurt people anymore. (He took an oath, and he doesn't want to anymore, never again if he can help it.) Selina has a wonderful idea.

If he won't be a vigilante anymore, why not a thief?

Damian protests when she suggests it. At first.

Then Selina mentions how an awful lot of the money she takes ends up in the hands of the community and that she is not active nearly as much as Batman. A good heist takes quite a bit of planning after all.

The thing that really sold him is when Selina said she needed back up anyway to steal this artifact from a private collector and return it to its country of origin.

Doctor Damian Wayne sits across from her, a cat in his lap, and smiles as she outlines the plan and agrees easier than she thought he would.

Now Damian is highly trained, turned into a weapon from birth, but Selina insists on showing him some of her own moves. Damian excels in flexibility and the more arobatic elements. He picks pockets and exploits alarm systems like he's done it for years. He grins as he tells her exactly how he used to get around his father. No one wise ever lets anyone know all of their skills, even allies.

Selina delights in teaching him social exploitation, how to use his looks and charm to convince marks to just let him in. She laughs at the disgisted face he makes as she describes how to flirt and distract. Selina is actually a little impressed with how well he does at it after a bit of practice on regular people.

They melt at his accent and pretty green eyes, tripping over themselves to give Damian anything he wants if only to have his attention a moment longer.

She giggles at the thought of Bruce's and the other bats' reaction to their baby becoming the object of admirers. She reminds herself to get him to use his new skills at the next Wayne Gala so she can watch the chaos.

Finally, Selina declares him ready and hands him his new costume. Which happens to be a skintight black catsuit made from what he guesses is reinforced material, complete with a mask to cover his mouth and a hood with cat ears sewn on top.

"No."

"But you'll look so cute kitten!"

"I'll look like an idiot!"

"You need a suit, I altered one of mine, so unless you're going to rob this guy wearing the Robin outfit, it'll have to do."

"Fine!"

"Do you have a name? Or am I calling you kitten all night?"

Damian sighs and thinks, "You can call me Stray."

The job goes extremely well. Catwoman and Stray get in, grab the artifacts and a few extras that catch their eye, and get out without anyone noticing. It's the most fun Damian has had in ages, flitting across rooftops once again.

After that, Stray makes regular appearances, never when it'll interfere with his work. He and Catwoman robb the corrupt and return culturally significant objects and wealth to where they belong. Afterwards, he goes to work and saves lives.

Damian and Selina don't tell the others about their escapades. Damian doesn't want the hassle of explaining his choices to them, and ever since he hung up the cape, his father and brothers have been overprotective to the extreme. Silena is waiting for the world's greatest detective to figure out his civilian son is now her sidekick.

Batman notices Strays existence months after Damian starts his new hobby. He meets his father in the house of a mob boss Catwoman had been targeting for years.

"Catwoman, whose your friend?" Batman grunts

"Oh, Batsy, meet my kitten, Stray."

Damian pitches his voice a little lower and carefully imitates a Gotham accent.

"Great to finally meet you Batman, my mentor has told me so much about you." Damian offers a clawed hand. His father doesn't take it.

"Get out of here. This guy is involved in a human trafficking ring I'm tracking down."

"All the more reason to liberate his ill gotten gains, don't you think?" Damian asks with a smirk.

Batman glares at him but let's them leave with a few nice paintings and doesn't bother giving chase. Damian ignores Selina winking at the Bat and whispering in his ear for his own sanity.

It goes on like this for weeks. When he sees his father outside the mask, the man is doting and worried if he's eating enough. When he he meets Batman, the man is cold and standoffish.

The other bats enjoy his humour but are thoroughly confused at his ability to evade them.

Bruce is losing it because the last time a masked figure showed in Gotham with vaguely familiar moves, it was Jason on a revenge mission. At least, Stray isn't beheading people, but Bruce needs to know who he is, like yesterday.

Silena says nothing but enjoys their frustration. Her kitten is having fun for the first time in years, and not even the bats are going to ruin that.

It works well, Damian helps Silena while he keeps his new life as a doctor without his family knowing his secret. He enjoys the adrenaline and sleeps better with some sort of outlet.

Then, all of the Batfamily are kidnapped.

Damian doesn't know how it happened or why he is the only one left to deal with it, but Silena called, and now he has to go rescue his idiots. Silena is with the sirens out of town, so Stray goes in solo. (he doesn't have time to find a robin suit.)

He finds his family tied up and mildly drugged in a large basement.

"Why are you here?!" Nightwing asks as he is untied.

"Because apparently you all are incapable of keeping yourselves out of trouble without my help!"

"We've never needed your help before?" Red Robin interjects, looking at him like a puzzle.

"Yes, take that tone! Agent A is waiting at the cave for you all, and God help me if any of you patrol again without me clearing you!"

"Wait-" Batman starts. "Damian!"

Every other bat looks at him in shock.

"No names in the suit, Father!"

All of the vigilantes start to talk over each other as Damian sighs. He has a shift in 5 hours and probably won't be able to sleep before it now.

Just as Damian has untied the last of his siblings, the door to the basement busts open to reveal a very serious looking Jon Kent. Tim had apparently activated the distress beacon.

Stray holds his face in his hand. "Bit late there, Superman." As he turns to a hovering Jon Kent.

"Damian?!" The Super gapes at him.

"No names in the suit, Hayseed!" Damian crosses his arms, his glare visible even if his scowl is hidden. Jon immediately turns bright red. Damians family look on in dread.

"I didn't know you even had a suit anymore!"

"It wasn't important!"

"Looks pretty important to me! What? Trade in the bird theme for... Are those cat ears??"

Damian glares harder. "They weren't my choice."

"Yeah, I got that. This is very different from your old Robin get-up." Jon looks him up and down. "Suits you, though."

Damian hopes his heartbeat doesn't give away how that comment affects him, but going by the smirk on Jons face, he already knows.

"NO!" Damians brothers shout from beside him.

"Stray, you are coming back to the cave." Batman orders

"But Father-"

"Now."

Damian really just wants to sleep, but his father isn't giving him a choice in the matter. He looks towards Jon and has a wonderful idea.

"Superman, I could use an evac." Jon takes a moment, smiles, and grabs the cat themed thief and flies them both away. They ignore the other heroes yelling behind them.

After a few minutes of flying, Jon sets him down in the middle of a field.

"So you're Stray now?"

"I needed an outlet that didn't hurt people, Silena suggested it." Damian says while taking down his mask and hood. "Thank you for the escape."

Jon chuckles. "Anytime." He steps closer. "If you want to repay the favour, you could take me to dinner?" He flirts.

Damian raises a brow. "Really?"

"I'll even pay."

"How is that repayment?"

"Was thinking more of a date, actually?" Jon looks at his lips as he says this.

"The Cat Costume really does it for you, huh?" Damian teases.

"No, you do it for me. I've been trying to ask you out for ages, but seeing you in skintight leather is definitely a hell of a motivation."

Damian hums. "Tommorrow then, you can pick me up after my shift. If you let me sleep before I have to work in the morning"

"Deal."

His family eventually interrogate him about being Stray, but not before they find Jonathan Kent waiting for him with flowers and a kiss.

Needless to say, Selina is highly entertained when she returns.

[ariiijestertheklown]

Substance

ELIJAH "SMOKE" MOORE X READER (OC/TINASHE/)

Modern-AU

Warnings: Cursing, verbal fights, crying, hitting(from reader), Gangster shii, a smidge of sexual content, and if i missed anything let me know

AN: my first fanfic so bare with me ....

Summary: Tinashe was tired of waiting tired of having hope tired of missing him so she tries to forget all about him but the goddess of love had other plans and guess who pops up at the clubs she at....

10:43 pm on a Friday night, Tinashe was scrolling reminiscing going through past messages and photos till she told herself "Get the hell up off that couch and lets have some fun" she put her outfit did her hair make up everything and out the door. She arrives at the club meeting her friend Jenea once they enter tinashe hits the bar asking for 4 shots of Hennessy. And Jenea just shrugs and says "add 4 more to that" four shots later and somehow there both tipsy 20 minutes later more shots and 2 drinks there in the middle of the dance floor swaying their hips and jamming to the music it didnt take long for some guy to come up behind jenea and dance with her but tinashe? she didnt care she was free she was living the life... until strong muscled arms wrapped around her waist she wasnt phased until she heard it. Heard him AND Smelled him.

The smell of him like rich cologne and cedarwood "hey beautiful" she froze breath hitched stopped dancing and all of sudden the six plus shots she took wore straight out her system.

| "so its like that no hi? nothing?" voice deep and raspy

| "No hi? Boy please... get the fuck from off me"

You had moved out his grasp and straight to the bar still tipsy going for 3 more shots to hope this is just a dream or the Hennessy kicking in but no. Once You down the last shot he makes his way toward you and oh lord the sight of him. Black Jeans Black tee tight as a mf gold chain dangling, gold rolex watch and oooo that face still the same how you remember it but when your eyes travel lower you notice hes more muscular and more fit , buff and the Hennessy made you just wanna take bit of him but you fought that feeling hard. He cornered you your back against the bar and him in front close very close.

| "Come on T, I know you missed me"

|"missed yeah few days ago now not anymore" She lied and he knew she lied

Tinashes eyes were low lashes almost covering her eyes as she looked up at him. He looked down at her leaning down lips brushing her cheek then to her ear he said " Go ahead and lie one more time might have to fix that" he smirked then leaned back seeing her face which was in total shock.

" Aint no one lyin you left for 4 weeks and then all of a sudden pop back up smoke please fuck out my face 'for i give you something to be in my face bout" She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth pushing him back out her way now drunk as ever as she went to find jenea who was in the corner of the club making out with the same damn man who she was dancing with. She just let them be they didnt come in the same car anyway. As she was about to leave she felt a pair of hands on her hips stopping her. "Smoke if you dont take your hands of me ima remove them myself forcefully." She was then pulled into a hallway Red and blue lights littered the hallway dim but still able to see he had her pinned against wall, Tinashe being drunk did not know wether to kiss him , slap him, or cuss him the hell out so she chose two out of the three. He leaned down and she instantly had her lips on his the kiss was rough but slow and felt like the world had stopped. but then when she pulled away....

"Your an ass Smoke... you Just leave out the blue for 4 weeks no text no call nothing then somehow know where i am show up and then start acting like you can get me back real easy by luring me into this kiss.."

her eyes started to water and he noticed making something in him shift he gently grabbed her chin making her look at him.

"I know.. I know im wrong i didnt wanna get you mixed up in all my gangster shit and then put you in danger i knew i called i would have never been stay away but im here now" He looked like he meant it like he really did want to make things work between the two of you "as for the acting like you can get me back real easy by luring me into this kiss part" he mocked you smirking "if i have to earn you back thats what ima do cause your mine and always have been."

You had looked up at him feeling rushing back to you lots of them Anger, Love, hurt, kindness tons of feelings but right now you wanted him and i mean WANTED him in BED.

(Yall can let me know if you want a part 2 or not might just leave this as it is T_T)

[r0manceplanet]

hallo!!,, ^_^ uuuhh this is my first time doing one of these so my apolocheese if this is worded oddly!! X-(

Fandom: forsaken

Pronouns: they / them

Gender + Sexuality: agender and pan (open to polyamory)

Personality: i'd like to say im a fairly positive and caring person!! i LOVE socializing, but at the same time I have HORRIBLE social anxiety, so it usually takes me a while to actually get the courage to get to know people,, X-[ I'm typically a very quiet and reserved as im not typically that energetic of a person,, but if I know you well, and if i have the energy for it, then I definitely can become very outgoing :-)

Hobbies: Photography, gardening (every flower I've tried to plant has died within a week </3) studying quantum physics, baking, and storytelling (I LOVE CREATING STORIES!!!)

Likes + Dislikes: i LOVE horror stories, i don't care WHAT form of media it even is I JUST LOVE HORROR!!!! same goes for quantum physics!! Though I'm specifically interested in multiverse theory!!!! also I really really like music!! My music taste shifts very often though, so I like a LOT of different genres,, ^_^;; OH also i love, love, LOVE flowers with all my heart!!!! I'll even paint or sketch them occasionally!! I just wish I actually knew how to take care of one AUGH💔 ((as for dislikes,,, surprisingly there's not much i dislike other than, like, basic things that everyone dislikes,, but if I really had to think of something, I guess don't really like crowded places or overly energetic people(like, YouTube family blogger type of overly energetic. they SCARE me) oh and also ketchup i really hate ketchup))

Love language: Quality time and words of affirmation

What i look for in a partner: someone who l can communicate with, and will communicate with me whenever there's an issue going on and will love me no matter if I'm acting reserved and quiet or energetic and outgoing. But overall, someone who spends time with me and shows they really love me <:-)

(AUUGGHHH SORRY IF THIS WAS LONG DUDE!!! D-:)

FORSAKEN MATCHUP #3

Thank you for sending in your matchup! and it was not too long at all! I love the stuff you added too, you seem like a really cool person— AND I think I had the most fun with this one since I matched you up with someone that I felt was *chefs kiss*

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Press “Keep Reading” to see who you got matched with!

I have matched you with… Azure and Two Time!

• Oh boy, you would not believe how excited I was when I matched you with these two, they both just fit you so perfectly in a way I cannot describe!

• You would meet them both before the games took place and before Two Time slowly turned insane, you were the latest member to the spawn cult, and they were both very eager to introduce themselves to you, they slowly got to understand you more through the conversations you all had together.

• Your insane knowledge for quantum physics was the reason why you were recruited to the cult, it was an asking help to help the cult grow more powerful for other people to join, and two time and azure loved learning about it through you, especially your passion for multiverse theory, they got to share a few things in common with you because of those two topics, which eventually leads up to them figuring out how to ask you out.

• They both were a little nervous on figuring out how to ask you out, they didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, and they didn’t wanna lose you. Two time was the one that brought the idea up to Azure about how to ask you out, and to talk it out if they were both ok with dating you since they were still partners, but once learning they both share the same feelings with you and were on board with a plan, they go on to ask you out, with two time being extravagant about it with bringing gifts to you as an offering LMAO.

• After they asked you out, and (hopefully) with you agreeing they both were through the roof happy about it, and once things are settled with being in a polyamorous relationship with them, the fun begins. It’s so much fun being in a relationship with the both of them, whenever you all plan a home date azure and two time are both bickering about what movie they wanna watch, or about what they wanna do— but once you come up with an idea you wanna do, they throw all of their ideas out the roof and go along with what you wanna do.

• I headcanon that they both don’t listen to music often, with the reason being that they don’t have the time to listen because of how devoted they both are to the cult, but once they are together with you that all changes when you make them listen to a few of your favorite songs through their playlist, and then they both get into it and make their own, Azure seems like the type of dude to listen to soft music, like pop or j-pop (like lamp, ichiko, etc) and while two time seems like the type of person to listen to nu metal and rock. They would both make a playlist with you in there to listen to all of your favorite songs, and they put it on whenever they’re both hanging out with you.

• If you were to ever paint the two of them, they would both be in awe and hang it up, you made a portrait with azure and two time, and another one with you all in there, and they hung it up in the house they share with you, and they love staring at it whenever they’re both bored. And with your love for flowers, I feel like you would have so many colorful portraits of them being surrounded in flowers, and I feel like they would hang up those portraits you give them with a flower themed case.

• About flowers, Azure would give you a bouquet of flowers as a sign of his love towards you, that also goes for two time too, two time would also do the same but tends to get you other gifts than flowers and leaves that up for Azure to do. Azure makes flower crowns for the three of you, and takes a selfie afterwards. I can see the three of you running through a field of flowers without a care in the world, sprinting through the field and then tripping while laughing all together, it is truly a beautiful sight of the love you all carry for each other.

• Since you mentioned that you have social anxiety and it takes the courage to talk with people, I feel like they would easily get you to come out of your shell, and two time is the person that’s the most social in the trio, and even when you met them they were the first ones to introduce themselves, same with Azure but he’s also like you when meeting people, but oddly gets comfortable when he met you.

• You will always get compliments thrown your way from the both of them, and their compliments are super creative, they always compliment how good you look in a certain type of clothing, or pointing out the little details on your face that make you all flustered and fuzzy inside. They’ll always praise you because of how perfect you are to the both of them, and they couldn’t be more grateful to have you in their lives.

• You and Two time have the best horror stories, you both always tell each other them deep into the night, with azure listening to the both of you talk, and him adding in as well. Azure loves the stories you and two time come up with, and even you and two time have a little notebook you share with the stories you both created. Azure reads them while you both are sleeping each night (as long as he can read while being in the chaos of being close together while sleeping).

• When Two Time slowly goes insane, you and azure both notice immediately as they get slowly further from you both, and you and azure ask if they’re alright and they brush it off with a small “Yeah, I’m alright why?”. It didn’t seem like a big deal at first until an incident happened at the cult where you discovered that Two Time sacrificed azure for a ritual order in order for them to receive a second life, you felt like your entire world just crumbled in front of your eyes while screaming and crying at two time about what they’ve done.

• But two time doesn’t kill nor sacrifice you, no, not at all, but they threaten you that if you try to leave them you’ll end up just like Azure which forces you to stay in the relationship, and you will always live two time, of course you will, but your heart can’t fully recover after what they did to azure, you cry about it silently every night while they’re sleeping next to you. And once your in the games, you only have two time and they only have you, your stuck with two time forever there’s no leaving, will you ever see Azure? And when you do will he recognize the both of you? You don’t know, but when you do you’ll give him a hug and whisper secret apologies into his ear about how sorry you are that you couldn’t be there to protect him, and if he does kill you then it’s whatever, but 99% chance that he won’t, but he’ll always feel resentment towards two time, it’ll take a long time for him to mend things with them.

• Even without the incidents that happened, you have a very loving relationship with the both of them, even in the end when two time become demented and azure coming back to life just to be a killer, you will always have their backs even when the two of them aren’t on good terms with each other anymore, they’ll have you and they don’t mind sharing you, maybe things will slowly get better with them, hopefully, maybe someday things will go back to how they used to be.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May Mayhem Bingo event.

Hellfire

Prompt: Meet Ugly | Word Count: 695 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Very Mild Period Typical Homophobia | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Eddie & Gareth | Tags: Pre-S4, High School, Meet Ugly, Making Friends is a Special Kind of Hell

"Goddamn, watch where you're going, kid! Fuck!" Eddie snaps, watching as his lunchbox skitters across the hallway, making an awful racket. Clanging end over end, probably getting even more dented than it already was. 

At least it didn't spill open. That wouldn't have been great.

He shoves the kid that ran straight into him as he turned the corner of the school hallway.

The kid stumbles, before folding down to the floor like a cheap suit, "Sorry! Sorry. Jeez."

And he should be sorry. He needs to watch where he's going.

Eddie watches as he collapses in on himself, getting down on his knees, scrambling to pick up his spilled books and loose sheets of paper. Hands scraping the tile floor as he tries to scoop everything back up.

Eddie feels slightly guilty. But only slightly. 

One piece of paper has slid further away, and Eddie puts the toe of his shoe on it, dragging it towards himself. 

"Give that back!" he shouts, and the kid has fire in eyes. Eddie'll give him that. 

Bending down, Eddie doesn't listen to his pleas, and picks it up, turning it over. 

Oh.

He was expecting homework, he guesses. But this is a drawing of a demon, with a red face and long horns. A flaming sword, and a mace. With the word Hellfire at the top.

It's good. It's really good. 

And there's dice. A d20.

"Are you into D&D?" Eddie asks, astonished, looking down at him. He hadn't suspected, hadn't even noticed him around the school, and usually he's better at reading people. At sniffing out one of his own. This one slipped past him, though.

"Fuck you," he says, blue eyes furious, hair just starting to curl around his ears. Like he's growing it out. Eddie's been there, done that. The awkward stage is hell.

Eddie cackles, first impressions aside, he thinks he likes this little shit. Maybe he could be his first sheep. Eddie knows he's destined to take on a flock of impressionable youth, he just hasn't gotten around to it yet. That's all. 

"Wouldn't you like that?" Eddie banters back, and the kid's cheeks flush a deep red.

"I don't, I wouldn't!" he snaps, and Eddie squats down in front of him, the art still in his hand as he looks at it again, carefully. He has an idea. A plan. 

"If you say so," Eddie teases, "but listen, I have a proposition."

"What's that?" he asks, and he looks every bit of fourteen. Eddie remembers those days, and wouldn't go back for anything. 

"I've been trying to start a club for D&D. If we can use this for our logo, you can join," Eddie offers, and the kid looks suspicious. "No tricks. It's me, and a few other kids so far. We're trying to get the school to recognize us as an actual club. We just need to convince them. I'm Eddie."

"I know who you are," the kid says, and Eddie's eyes catch on something else in his pile of spilled shit. Eddie's hand snakes out.

"Do you play the drums?!" Eddie asks excitedly, grabbing the loose drumstick from the mess at his feet. "I have a band, you know. And we need a drummer."

"Sounds like you need lots of things," he mutters, and Eddie smiles. He does like him. For a little twerp.

"Maybe I do. You interested?"

If the universe is gonna throw this kid at his feet, he's not gonna ignore it.

The kid looks suspicious, and rightfully so. Eddie's not known around school for being especially nice and kind and reasonable. It's a persona he's carefully cultivated. But Eddie just looks at him, giving him his most innocent smile. He knows what his eyes can do, and he's not above using them to get what he wants, never has been.

"I'm Gareth," the kid finally says, and that's not a no. That's not a no at all.

"Gareth the Great," Eddie christens him, grinning, patting him on the shoulder. 

Eddie stands, and watches Gareth get to his feet as well, then asks him, "So, tell me. Do you already know Jeff and Goodie?"

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the May Mayhem Bingo Event!

[nice-and-accurate-fictions]

Christmas

Um. Pretty self explanatory, really. Yes, I know we are in May. But I really had quite a few fics for this list, so.

Human AUs:

The Christmas Wedding Scammer, by Aracloptia. Rated T, 35k. P. Dec 22.

Human AU where Crowley is an unemployed florist whose name is very similar to the incredibly famous and successful retired wedding planner Antonio Cowley. Anathema and Newton are planning their marriage and Aziraphale is the maid of honour. Oh, and Gabriel is the priest celebrating the wedding. I loved the humour in this fiction and the way it captures the characters' personalities. Absolutely delightful.

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers. Rated E, 66k. P. Mar 24..

Ah. Where to begin. Every now and then, you read a fiction that just makes you feel at home. Makes you feel like you’re in safe hands. Like you’re in for a real treat. This absolute gem has very quickly become my favourite human AU. For several reasons.  The characterisation of the two main characters is absolutely spot on. I could hear Crowley talking in DT’s Crowley voice and see him moving in DT’s Crowley way, and I could hear Aziraphale talking in MS’s Aziraphale voice and see him moving in MS’s Aziraphale way. The pace of the development of their relationship from enemies to lovers is just perfect. It’s told from Crowley’s POV and you can see how his perspective changes as the story progresses, but the writer is so good that Aziraphale’s change of perspective shows perfectly through Crowley’s POV too. The array of side characters is so good that it actually pains me to call them side characters. I wrote in one of my comments to the fiction that I will forever adore this story’s Bee, and I meant it, but Newt and Ana are equally fantastic (and I loved the other cameos too!). Also, and this is especially important to me, this story is as much a love story between Crowley and Aziraphale as it is a story of true friendship among all the characters. They look after each other, they have each other’s back, they support each other. I am so lucky and privileged to be able to see myself represented in that aspect of the story. Last but not least, this fiction doesn't overstay its welcome one bit. You are happy about how everyone ended up, but still could read more. It’s like you are part of the gang and want to know what your friends are up to. Everything in this story was perfect. I realise I haven’t mentioned what the plot is about, but hopefully by now you might want to find out for yourself!

Planes, Trains & The Apocalypse, by walking_contradiction42. Rated T, 32k. P. Dec 21.

Human AU where Crowley and Aziraphale meet on a plane on their way to Tadfield (via London) for Christmas. Crowley can't stand Aziraphale and only wants as uneventful a journey home as possible. Ha! 

I understand there’s a film with a similar title, you definitely don't need to have watched the film in order to enjoy this lovely fiction. 

My own  Only Ever Meant For Someone Else. Rated T, 9k.

Every year, the night before Christmas, taxi driver Aziraphale drives passengers to and from the hospital for charity. On the Christmas morning of 2023 he was ready to go home and rest with a cup of tea, a mince pie, and a book after a long night.

Guess who?

This my very first attempt at human AU, and it was great fun to write it without being bound by anything canon. It gave me a chance to play with some feelings and characterisations that I just don’t see in canon, but I like in fiction. I tried to throw in the mix a bit of humour, a tiny bit of short lived angst and, of course a happy ending!

Naked And Afraid: Jingle Hell by klikandtuna Rated T, 24k. P. Nov 24.

Human AU. A fictional transcription of an episode of reality show Naked And Afraid. Yes, Naked And Afraid is a real show, and no, you don’t need to have watched it to enjoy this sweet, funny, from strangers-to-lovers fiction. Lighthearted and yet tense, great characterisation, banter, will-they-won’t-they, humour, this fiction has it all! I absolutely loved it. Honestly, you don’t know me, but trust me: if I speak enthusiastically about a fiction based on a survival show, it must be that good.

Something On The Wind (Or Jingle Chimes) by Aspiring_Eccentric, 5k.P. Dec24

I loved this human AU! Crowley has been driven mad by the new neighbour’s wind chimes. I don’t think I need to tell you who the new neighbour is. Humour, fluff, flirting and spot on characterisation, this fiction was a real Christmas treat!

The Soho Route by Caedmon. Rated G, 11k. P. dec 24.

Human AU where Crowley is a delivery man who’s taken a shine to the lovely bookseller he delivers parcels to. If only the bookseller was interested in him. A sweet story featuring an oblivious Crowley and an undeterred Aziraphale.

In-universe:

The Angel Tree by GoodInspirationsAD. Rated T, 8k. P. Dec24.

Post season 2 fiction with a lovely happy ending. Aziraphale is in heaven and Crowley, as heartbroken as he is, replaces him in making sure the London Hospital Angel Tree initiative has presents for all the patients. Meanwhile, Aziraphale worries that, with him in heaven, some patients will be left with no gifts, so he has to go down to earth and fulfill the patients’ wishes. Hurt, comfort, communication, intimacy, South Down cottage, AND Christmas all in one fiction, what more do you want?

The Lines Between, by Ginger_Cat, rated M, 21k.

Set after season 1, but written after season 2, this is the first fiction I remember reading, or at least loving, and it dragged me into the fanfiction rabbit hole. I loved it so much! Tender, deep, and with the sweetest happy ending.

One Miraculous December, by journeytogallifrey, rated T, 187k. P. Dec 20.

One December, old memories seem to materialise and come into life whenever Crowley is with Aziraphale. One each day. Crowley worries that he’s subconsciously bringing memories to life and that Aziraphale will find out his true feelings for him. Lovely and sweet. I read this fic well before I started putting down my thoughts about the stories I read, so it’s difficult over a year later to put into words how much I loved it, but I did!

A Christmas Miracle by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake and Ngk. Rated E, 4k. P. Dec 24.

A sweet, hot, and funny in-canon story where supreme archangel Gabriel grants all the angels a free miracle to use for personal purposes one Christmas day. Guess how Aziraphale chooses to use his? Words by Ngk and art by IneffableChocolateCheeseCake. Lovely, lovely story!

Winter’s Rages, by miladyshakespeare. Rated G, 427 words. P. Dec 24

A storm is raging in 1719. Any more than that would mean spoiling the story, but honestly, it’s astounding that so much goodness and so much subtle humour is contained in such a short story. Artful and clever, I truly loved it!

Nooooo Mooooore Touching My Angel by Adara83, 2k. P. Dec 24

Post second coming story where angels and demons have meetings and get-togethers. At the latest Christmas meeting Crowley and Aziraphale got very protective of each other. Very sweet story.

Merry Christmas, Hellspawn, by Libbyfay, rated G, 4k. P. Dec 21.

Beautiful Warlock’s POV fiction. It's the first Christmas since nanny and brother Francis left without a word, and Warlock feels lonely. He goes to what used to be brother Francis’ shed, goes through the box of Christmas decorations and reminisces about the past, until someone knocks on the door. I am quite partial to the few, precious Warlock’s POV stories, and the author does an excellent job at depicting the pain of an 11 year old and that casual, matter of fact way 11 year olds deal with great pain. This story is delicate, and beautiful and deeper than it might seem.

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[amtrak12]

HELP! I've fallen down a Bering and Wells hole again and can't stop watching fanvids. I misssssss them!!! 😢

[ulteri0rm0tives]

WORST part of replaying this game. Is that i actually *have* to progress through (most of) it to see Kerry again... Like having to wade through little chocolate gold colds to get to the real shit that ACTUALLY matters.

It actually sucks you meet him so late in the game and only get so much time with him :( especially because I (personally) find his romance and plotline to be one of the more developed slash more enjoyable ones and I just :( wish they gave us more time with him ugh I jUST MISS HIM OKAY GUYS I MISS THIS OLD MAN!!!

[animangalover-writes]

Time for another dream i had, this time about zutara.

This one is a lot shorter, but essentially I had a dream where kataras whole family(which seemed to have more members then in the show) all live in the fire nation, hiding the fact that they're water tribe(rather, they were water tribe).

Katara is in some sort of relationship with zuko. It's unclear if she's his wife, his girlfriend, or his mistress, but its not hidden. People know about her and her relationship with him.

(Putting the rest under a cut so I don't clog up the feed lol)

If she was his mistress it's kinda held in that way that kings had other women they'd sleep with along with their queen and it was just an accepted, albeit kinda shitty, thing to do.

Anyway, katara is also pregnant, which was kind of an underlying "plot point" and would return home to her family every day to check on them.

It's revealed here that katara is basically the only reason her family is doing pretty well for themselves. Her relationship with zuko means that they have enough to get by. It's also noted that her whole family(katara, sokka, their dad, their grandma, and some made up new family members) all live in one house. So its clear they're still kind of struggling.

It's also revealed, through a conversation with her grandma, that the only otehr reason katara is with zuko, is because it was part of a bigger plan. She and her family are part of a resistance against the fire nation, and when they realized zuko liked katara, wanted her to infiltrate and pretend to be in love with him.

The plan had clearly gone on longer then anticipated, for whatever reason, and katara is conflicted because she actually does have feelings for him now, not fo mention she's pregnant with his child.

There's a "scene" either at the beginning or after this reveal that shows zuko in a meeting with other fire nation officials, including his father and sister, and that either he was against one of their plans but is ignored or his plan gets shut down(I don't remember which). Katara always sits in on these meetings with him, and afterwards, as everyone is getting up to leave, she leans her forehead against his and whispers that everything will be alright. This is why we can tell she truly does care about him, to some degree. But it's also a moment showing potential manipulation, like shes pretending to care. It's supposed to be a little of both, she needs him to trust her but she does still love him.

After all of this, we cut to a scene in a forest/swamp. This part is kind of blurry in my head, but basically, it's a secret meeting. Katara is dressed similarly to the painted lady, her and a few other resistance members, including Sokka, Suki, and Hakoda, are planning an ambush on Zuko and his family, who are supposed to travel down a path nearby. Katara is a key part of this plan, as she's the only waterbender, and she knows this. She nods along to everything regarding the plan and she goes over important points herself as well. But as everyone else continues talking, katara is having doubts. She loves Zuko. She's about to have his child. She cares for him. But she needs to free the world from the fire nations clutches as well. She doesn't want to kill Zuko, but she has to in order to help others. She's hesitating.

They continue with the plan anyway, and through the foliage that katara and the others are hiding in, we see a carriage making its way down the path. Zuko and his family(or at least his father) are in there.

Everyone is getting ready to fight, to jump out and attack. We see a close up shot of Katara, conflicted. She's still not sure if she can go through with this, if she can kill Zuko.

And then I woke up.

[mountmortar]

do you know something i just realized that's really funny to me. my undergrad advisor referring to me as "they" after one (1) video call months before i even started mainly going by they/them

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Holy fuck y'all i should NOT be awake 😭

[thevioletcaptain]

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