#and to Morose I hope this story was to your liking: I thought it was very sweet

[barbaracleboy]

@amorosebeing​

Yin was walking around the Ant Kingdom Plaza, her expression almost blank but her gaze drifting all around Residential Area. She looked at the many Bugs there, and their houses, but her sight was never on any of them for very long...

Meanwhile, Kina was running all around the plaza herself, swearing up a storm as she failed to find Yin anywhere. 

Kina: YIN! YIN! Gods fucking damn it, where the hell did that little shit go!? If Maki finds out I lost her after he specifically...huh?

Kina found the little Moth: she was conversing with another (and even smaller) Moth, Tod, right outside his house.

Yin:...What’s your name?

Tod: I’m Tod! What’s yours?

Yin: Yin.

Tod: Nice name!

Yin: Thank you. Are you my brother?

Tod just looked at her silently for a moment and lightly chuckled when he finally did answer.

Tod: What?

Yin was going to continue asking questions but Kina quickly grabbed her arm and started pulling her away.

Kina: Dammit, Yin, I thought you fell in a ditch or something! Get over here...

Yin: Okie-dokie! 

Yin looked back and waved to Tod as Kina dragged her off.

Yin: Bye, Tod!

Tod waved back with a smile

Tod: See ya!

Kina dragged Yin back to the home that they and Maki shared, fully intent on chewing the adopted Moth out.

Kina: What the hell were you thinking!? What if you got kidnapped!?

Yin: I-I’m sorry...

Kina: That doesn’t answer my question, Yin, why were you walking around the Plaza???

Yin rubbed her arm and looked away, taking her time before answering.

Yin:..I wanna find someone like me.

Kina looked at her blankly now, the anger in her face and voice replaced with a much calmer sense of confusion.

Kina: Huh?

Yin: I dunno, I...wanna see a Bug that’s like me.

Kina: Is...that why you talked to that Moth?

Yin: Maybe.

Kina groaned in frustration and shook her head.

Kina:...Do you think that kid’s your brother?

Yin: Not really. He’s a Moth and I’m a Moth but...he’s not really like me?

Kina: What do you think it takes to be “like you”, then? You’re a Moth, aren’t you?

Yin: Yeah, but...I’m a weird Moth.

Kina sighed again and began reciting something Maki told her to say when Yin was feeling self-conscious.

Kina: “Yin, you’re not dumb or weird or stupid or ugly, you’re a perfect, special Bug and you-”

Yin: But other Moths aren’t like me.

Kina: So? Other Mantises aren’t like me but I don’t whine about it.

Yin: Other mantises are kinda like you

Kina: What, are you saying I’m not special?

Yin: No, no, you are! It’s just...I mean, you and Maki are like each other.

Kina: Yeah, we’re family. What, is family not good enough for you?

Yin: I...I...uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Yin held her arms to her head and just sat whining like that for a couple minutes. Kina stared at her in annoyance at first...before she took a few minutes to really think about what Yin was saying. Kina felt she should say or do something to help Yin (though if you ask her she’ll say it was just to shut the little Moth up), so she gave it some thought before placing a hand on Yin’s back.

Kina: You want...other Bugs, that are more like you, right?

Yin just looked at Kina and slowly nodded.

Kina: You’d like Bugs that are like family to you, right?

Yin nodded again, her face drooping a little.

Kina: You...you would rather have a family that you came from, rather than one that picked you up, right?

Yin: No, I...just...I’m sorry...

Yin was surprised when Kina pulled her into a hug, patting her on the head with one hand and tussling her fluff with the other.

Kina: Hey, hey, quit apologizing: everyone sticks out somewhere, it’s fine.

Kina leaned a little closer to Yin but couldn’t help giggling just a little.

Kina: [Don’t tell Maki I said this but he’s sorta lousy. Sorry for-]

Yin: No, you and Maki are super good!

...Yin just called Kina “super good”...

Kina:...Are you happy with us as your family?

Yin: Yeah!

Kina:...Would you be happier if-

Yin: I want you to be Maki and Kina, nothing else!

Kina couldn’t help but feel guilty then, and tried her best not to start tearing up.

Kina:...You still upset, though?

Yin’s smile faded and she looked away again.

Yin:...Maybe a little...

Kina: Nah, it’s okay, I’ll help you out...

Suddenly, Yin hugged Kina with the biggest, sweetest smile on her face, and Kina couldn’t help but smile also.

Kina:...Hey, Yin...You know Leif, from Team Snakemouth?

Yin: Hm?

Kina: He could probably help you a bit.

Yin: Ooh, maybe!

Kina: Yeah, he’s a cool dude! He’s a fun guy! C’mon, let’s head over!

Kina and Yin started walking to Team Snakemouth’s house, a content look on both of them as they strolled happily together.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ Through my eyes

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Karen explains Mary and Arthur's story to you. Saddened, you're convinced you could never compete with her until the man in question proves you wrong. ✦ Warnings/Tags: Self-depreciation from both sides, kissing, comfort, fluff. Reader has been with the gang for a year. Use of Y/N. ✦ Words: 3k ✦ a/n: This is the answer to this ask by the lovely @crystalofmoon19. I really hope you'll like it, dear! And thank you for your support, you've been really sweet to me and my work! As always, I got carried away and wrote way too much. And as always, please reach out to me if you spot any misspellings. Also idk why I made this in Colter, guess I just feel way too hot rn and want some fresh snow + Arthur's coat is perfect for comfort. Credits. Arthur's pic is from my playthrough. Other pics are not mine found them on Pinterest. AO3

“And in the end, she rejected his proposal, then a few months later, sent him a letter telling she was marrying some wealthier gentleman!”

Your mouth hangs open in the air. Karen’s words enter through your ears and create a nice little nest for themselves in your brain. You had no idea. No idea Arthur had been this close to being married. That their relationship had been so strong, that, according to hearsays, he had reached his lowest after their break up, drunk most part of the day, fighting the rest of the time, obnoxious to everyone, even Dutch and Hosea.

“Y/N? You’re okay, there?” Karen asked you, disappointed her big reveal had left you reactionless.

You focused your gaze back on her. Her blonde hair is softly litten up by the setting sun, her breath exhaling a puff of steam as she breathes. Colter is a cold place, and it probably felt even colder because of the morose mood of the gang. You suddenly remember you’re supposed to be shocked. You are, of course, but in a very bad way. Not in an “Oh my God, I can’t believe this Karen, so much gossip!” kind of way.

How could you ever compete with that?

“Yeah, I’m alright. God, I had no idea so much happened between them.”

“Oh, trust me, it was definitely his biggest love story. Never saw him get into someone else after her. Not even Mary-Beth! Could you believe that?”

No, you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why but every word from Karen felt like an enormous stone falling into your belly and dragging you deeper and deeper into the sea. Your silly little crush on Arthur, when you first joined the gang a year ago, had turned into a way stronger attraction. Denying it at first, you had little by little let your emotions win, cherishing every moment with him, thanking Dutch for assigning both of you to the same missions, loving the quiet evenings where he would just sit next to you around the campfire to scribble in his journal while you would do your little hobby on your own. Silent most, but enjoying each other’s company, and so, so peaceful.

More than your emotions, you even had let your imagination take the lead, dreaming about a selfish future with him, seeing it every time he would give you a smile, or laugh at one of your jokes. A happy Arthur, relieved from his obligations, enjoys life's simplest joys. A house, a garden. Maybe a dog, considering he had loved having Copper. A marriage even. And why not a child? If he would feel ready. Something in you was telling you he would be a good father.

But now, you felt like this dream was rotten, condemned.  Like a broken match. The fire, the very thing it’s designed for,  not being able to be lit. Would never be lit. A wasted potential.

You tried to continue your gossiping chat with Karen, voice light but gaze elusive as you peeled the potatoes you were supposed to prepare while discussing, tedious tasks often ended up less difficult this way when you were working with the other girls. But behind your seemingly normal smile and hollow words, a haunting thought was hanging on to you as strongly as a rock trapped in a thousand-year-old iceberg. 

Arthur never fell in love again after Mary Linton.

Night had definitely fallen on the frozen mountains. After your endless vegetables centered-chores, you had helped Mr. Pearson turning them into a decent meal, his incessant blattering about the Navy giving you some sort of distraction. During dinner and after though, once you didn’t have any goal or job left to do for the day, your conversation with Karen came back into your wandering mind, her speech playing again and again like a used gramophone record.

Never fell in love again...

Sitting at one of the corners of the big cabin you had been sleeping in for the past few days along with the girls and some other gang members which mainly served as a common space, you were looking outside by a dilapidated window. A frozen World spread out before your eyes, every inch of surface covered in snow and ice, the landscape ending up looking like it was coated with a thick strange substance —dark blue colors Queen of this gloomy, misty horizon.

Arthur had returned from a very busy hunting day with Charles. Thanks to them, meat had been added to the vegetable paradise of a meal, resulting in a better-than-usual supper. He should have felt cheerful, but his mood wouldn't lighten. 

He had spotted you from across the room, noticing the hurtful absence of your smile on these sweet lips of yours. Smile he secretly loved. Lips he secretly fancied. 

Hesitating for a long moment, debating with himself, a self-depreciative rambling turning in his head like a well-oiled motor, he had ultimately decided to join you and investigate. Something pretty important must been bothering you, because loosing your usual little grin and eating your plate all by yourself really wasn't in your habits.

Approaching you, his boots and spurs clicking and stomping before you could see him, he plants them in front of you, standing there while his eyes lock on your face.

“Miss Y/L/N? Is everythin’ okay?”

“Oh, Mr Morgan. Yeah, don’t worry. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t believe you and honestly, you wouldn’t have convinced yourself either. And Arthur is a stubborn man. A stubborn, and caring one. He leans against the cabin's old creaky walls, on the other side of the window.

“Come on, don’t lie t’me girl. Everyone noticed you’re not in your right mind.” He honestly doesn’t know about everyone, but he surely did. His words are accompanied by a small, polite smile.

“I don’t think… I don’t think you’re the right person to talk about it.”

Arthur’s entire body froze. The hands he had on his belt as always when he was comfortable, flew to his chest as he crossed his arms, his thick winter coat folding with difficulty. His encouraging smile flattened, his brows pleating in a harsh frown.

“Erm… Alright, I get it. I won’t bother you, I guess.” 

Without loosening his arms, he pushed himself from the wall, taking a step to leave you some space. You couldn’t have missed it. This change of behavior, the hurtful expression he had displayed, as if he was truly pained by your words. Disappointed, maybe even shameful to have thought he could help you at all. He was just a sad, ugly bastard, after all.

You felt like you could hear all of it from where you were, and see it in the shadow that had taken his face and the gigantic mass that seemed to have fallen on his shoulders.

No, you didn’t want this. Didn’t want him to feel like that because of you and your stupid feelings, or your own dark thoughts.

“Wait, Arthur!”

He turned around the second you talked again.

“I’m sorry it’s just…” You sigh and look at him with an uncertain expression, knowing your next words were going to be risky. “It’s about you and Mary Linton…”

His eyes turn into two literal plates, his mouth slightly opening in outer astonishment. This was really not what he had in mind. You could have been sad because of a hundred logical reasons, the death of Davey and the loss of Sean and Mac, the complete fiasco of Blackwater, the hundred of dollars lost, the terrible and tough conditions of the Grizzlies plunging everyone into an unbearable cold and a threatening famine.  Not mentioning Hosea’s alarming coughing, Dutch’s mysterious decisions, and Micah as a whole.

But you, out of all these things, were worried about Mary.

Once his eyes had grown as round as they could, they got back into an interrogative expression, the wave of surprise over.

“Wha’…?! How d’ya even know ‘bout her?”

“Karen speaks a lot when she’s bored…” You briefly explained, trying to sound detached.

Arthur rolls his eyes to the Heavens. Of course, folks talked, and you had to know about it all at some point. But this wasn’t ideal at all. He would have preferred to tell it to you himself, at a time he would have felt comfortable doing so, with his own words. He didn’t want this to change anything between the two of you.

“And erm… What exactly bothers ya?”

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are jammed. Explaining that you feel jealous of what the both of them had shared would just come down to confessing your feelings for him plain and simple. 

You felt completely stuck. 

He’s right there before your eyes, the very source of all your worries and your every joy. Looking at you with those confused blue eyes, wondering what is happening in this pretty head of yours. But the words still won’t come out.  You feel more and more powerless, and instead of a sound, your eyes take over to get something out of your body, slow and sad tears filling them like a lonely glacier fills a mountain lake on its own.

Arthur’s usual frown furrows, his wrinkles more visible, contrasted by the shadows from the warm lights of the fire. Suddenly, his internal melancholic speech shuts down, as if the view of a single tear streaming down your cheek were absolutely intolerable to him. No worries nor anxious self-restraints crosses his mind —it’s now only instinct. He sees you crying. He has to help you. This is as easy as that.

His right hand reaches to you by itself.

It feels warm but coarse. This big, big hand on the side of your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Don’t waste those pretty tears for a sour-faced idiot like me.” His thumb gently wipes the drops of sadness that had overflowed from your two delicate lakes. “Come on, les’ jus’ talk about this somewhere quiet.”

Arthur gently uses the hand he had on your cheek to wrap it around your shoulders, solid arm gently pushing you up. He then leads you through the door, other members throwing curious gazes at the both of you.

But he doesn’t care. His priority, right now, is your well-being, and some privacy to allow him to finally whisper things in your ears he should have a long time ago. Not in front of everyone. Not with the other men looking at your sparkling eyes, and listening to the change in his voice he knew would crack, his usual intimidating persona crushed into a million pieces with only the sound of your own. Or with the other girls hearing the oh-so-important words he had to say. No. You would be the only one to witness this. 

He had brought you to the barn where the horses were kept. The snow was falling lazily, a few flakes passing through the holes in the dilapidated roof. The place is enveloped in a heavy silence, as if it was muffling every sound coming from the outside.

Once Arthur had closed the big wooden doors behind you and before he could do anything else, you finally burst.

“I shouldn't cry, I’m so sorry Arthur, I just… She looked like an incredible woman, so beautiful a-and distinguished, and me well… I'm just… me.” Your eyes fell to your feet. You like everything was coming out of you all at once and you couldn't contain it anymore.

“Stop it.” 

“How could I ever mean something to you? You've been with her for so long and even proposed to her and… and never fell in love again after her and…”

“Stop it, Y/N!”

Arthur cut your blabbering panic by pulling you against him. He held you so tightly you were almost crushed by his powerful arms, but it felt so good. Like he was holding together all the little pieces of you that had cracked, melting them with his warmth and molding yourself again with it.

“Now you l’sten to me, sweetheart. I don’t want ya to say things like this ever again.”

The sudden use of the pet name soothed your heart immediately. You buried your face into the furred collar of his big winter coat, the hairs tickling your nose. There, you can feel a little bit of his bare skin, your cheek finding shelter against it.

You stopped talking.

You just wanted him to continue to. His deep voice seemed to come directly from the inside of his chest, and you could feel it vibrating before actually hearing it.

“Ya know I’m no… Am no poet or, or good with words like Dutch…” He started, visibly unsure of what he was going to say. He’s relieved he had initiated the hug, this way, with your face in there, you couldn’t see his. The worried expression it was carrying, like a burden. “But lemme tell ya just how much I care about ya. Oh, my sweet girl.” 

This is it. He tries not to but his low tone begins to tremble. It’s so strange. It feels like forever since that happened for the last time.

“Yeah, Mary has been a real’ important part of my life, I won’t lie to ya. But it was so long ago, gorgeous. So long ago.” 

He knows he won’t shed a tear. He never cries. But his hands shake. His vocal cords vibrate in a vulnerable, softer, and higher-pitched quaver. His body tenses, heart as fast as if racing with a million wild horses galloping in the Great Plains. Even if his words couldn’t explain just how much you meant to him, you could have guessed by how you were affecting his entire flesh.

“Ya know what? It’s true. Our story ended badly. I never fell in love again after her.”

You sigh, more tears wetting your face and his blue coat, this truth so hard to swallow.

“Until that morning, when I saw you brushing Boadicea’s mane; your hair all covered in hay, the brightest smile I ever had the chance to witness on that sweet face o’ yours. That day, I knew my stupid foolish heart had done it all over again.”

You let out a single chuckle mixed with tears and emotions, so relieved. Even when you felt like you were at your lowest, he succeeded at making you smile.

“Grimshaw had forced me to groom all the gang’s horses to “get used to camp’s work”. Must have looked terrible.” You remembered with a smile, details of your first encounter with Arthur flooding your mind.

“You looked like a goddamn Angel, honey. T’was like the sun was shining jus’ for ya. Jesus, I knew it was too late for me.”

You pulled back from him just a little, enough for you to look at him in the eyes, but not for him to let go of you. Now that they had found you, his hands, still slightly quivering, refused to let go, their place on your back and behind your head feeling so natural and right. Your eyes behave the same way as them but with his face. He looks so moved that you have to pinch yourself internally to make sure you’re not dreaming this whole thing; never in your life you had seen him like this.

“I love you too, Arthur.” You confessed back to him, fingers cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach his face, but his arm helped you, your lips gently discovering themselves, brushing against each other in a soft and shy caress. Even if both your mouths were chapped by the biting cold, it was the most gentle kiss you had shared in your life, a satiny embrace that left you completely dreamy and light-headed.

The snowflakes silently swirl around the both of you, Nature the only witness of your souls melting into each other.

Opening your eyes again after this moment out of time, you're met with the happiest smile Arthur ever had on his face. He looked like and idiot in love, and you were sure you looked exactly the same.

“Please darlin’, don’t ever compare yourself to her ever again. What’s in the past stays there. And I wanna have a future with you.”

Your dreams sprang back straight from your heart to your mind. The visions you had about the both of you were more alive than ever, reinforced by his own needs shared with yours.

“You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re so smart and stunningly gorgeous. And, you wan’ a proof?” He playfully asks you, taking his hat off his head, a thin layer of snow falling from it.

Turning it over, he carefully pull a piece of paper out, hidden between two leathered segments in the inner part of his hat. His cut and reddened fingers unfold it and he gives it to you, his big smile turning into an embarrassed and sheepish one.

It’s a sketch of you.

You’re mesmerized by the details of it, the blades of hay messily tangled in your hair, the sparkling in your eyes, the exact clothes you were wearing that day. This smile, you’re more than certain he drew it way more beautiful than it really is. Arthur even had added some lines traced from your head to the end of the paper, as if you were the Sun itself and were emitting your own light.

This was impossible this was the same person as you, her beauty was too radiant and fascinating.

But no matter what you thought about yourself, seeing his work curled your lips in the exact same way as yourself on the drawing. With snowflakes replacing the twigs, you had turned into the living recreation of it. Arthur laughed when he noticed, and realized just how much he had loved you and continued to since that morning from a year ago. He bent towards you to put a small kiss on your forehead.

“Arthur it’s… It’s beautiful.” You find it difficult to find another word, speechless once again. 

You also had no idea of how talented at drawing nor attracted to you he was. This day definitely was full of surprises. You chuckled fondly before taking a last look at your portrait and giving it back to your lover. But Arthur’s large palm wrapped around your hand.

“No, please, keep it. This way, you’ll always remember how you look through my eyes.”

More tears threaten to escape your own, even though those were a direct extract from the immeasurable happiness you were experiencing.

“And... Now that I don’t have to hide myself while sketching ya, I’m going to draw lots of new ones.”

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries Thank you for reading all of this! Also, I didn't know this was a thing but if ever you want to be tagged in my works too, let me know! It would be my pleasure.

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 6

Last one for the night!! Thank you to everyone who has been following along with this little story.

Next up: gingerbread houses! Joyce makes an error, Eddie suggests an alternative, and El and Mike make the best of a bad situation.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

My next thought for the little elf was helping out Mrs. Claus in the kitchen. The task was detail orientated, would keep them constantly on their toes, and no animals to torment them.

Things went well for a week. They enjoyed making candy canes and little taffies. The soothing nature of the constant pulling must have felt like a boon to their soul after all the troubles they had been having.

Then it was time to make the gingerbread for the houses. Gingerbread for building is much different than the kind meant for eating. It’s harder, more rigid, easier to stand up.

Something no one told the little elf.

The gingerbread that didn’t come out burnt was too soft for building and too dry for eating. The kitchen smelt of burned gingerbread for days before it went away.

“At least you know you’re good at making candies,” I offered to the distraught little elf.

“Fat load of good that does me when Mrs. Claus won’t let me back in the kitchen,” they huffed morosely.

Ah yes, that was the sticking point as it were. Mrs. Claus had gotten tired of the burnt ginger smell by day two and had threatened to cook the elf if they came back. “It’s no matter, we’ll find something else you can do.”

~

Christmas was closing in and it was nearing time for the god damned Christmas party. Steve had gone back into the office, so his days weren’t free to just hang around teenagers and Eddie.

Everyone at work had been oohing and awing over the trees and decorations for weeks but no one seemed willing to praise Steve for it.

In fact, his dad had been taking credit for the whole thing. That Steve was just the errand boy in Clint Harrington’s grand Christmas plan.

It was so painful to watch. Steve was ready to throw in the towel if he was honest. Just put in his two week notice right before the Christmas break and just not come back after New Years.

“Steve!” Mr. Harrington bellowed, storming into his office. “You are bringing someone to the office party, right? Your mother is expecting to see you with someone this year, so you better come through.”

Steve opened his mouth to say he didn’t have anyone, but he closed it with a snap. A small smile spread over his face. Yes, actually did have someone this year. Or at least he hoped so.

“Yeah, Dad,” he said, his smile growing. “I’ve got someone to bring. I just have to make sure they’re free.”

Mr. Harrington nodded curtly and then turned on his heel, walking out of the office, leaving the door wide open. Steve just shook his head. That two weeks notice was looking better and better with each passing moment.

~

Steve pulled up to a different house. This one was more of a cabin than a house, nestled in a cove of trees that made it look like an old fashioned postcard. Idyllic and serene.

He loved it.

Ellie came dashing out of the cabin with a big smile on her face. “You made it! Joyce came over to help me and Dad make gingerbread houses!”

She gave Steve a big hug and all the stress from work and his dad just melted away. He loved these kids. He wanted a half of a dozen kids but the longer he went without so much as a single date, the longer he realized that wasn’t going to come true.

“Come on,” she said brightly, grabbing his wrist and dragging him inside. “Not everyone is here yet, but you can come have some of Dad’s hot spiced apple cider.”

Steve laughed as she dragged him to the kitchen as she kept talking. “Dad says there’s even a version for adults if you would prefer that. I had some once, it burned my throat.”

He stopped dead cold when he realized who her father was. Everyone had heard of the big city police chief that had come from New York to head up his old home town’s police force. Jim Hopper was a man everyone knew not to cross.

“Chief Hopper,” he greeted as warmly as possible. “I’m Steve Harrington. Pleased to meet you.”

Hopper smirked. “Ellie’s been telling me all about you all month. Nice to put a name to the face.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t happen to be Clint Harrington’s son, would you?”

“Not by choice,” Steve smirked back.

Hopped threw his head back and laughed. “I hear that. Come have some cider, it’s been cooking all day.”

Steve was led to the right pot with by scent alone. It smelled heavenly. He poured himself a cup and took a tentative sip. Oh, it tasted heavenly too. He took a longer sip. He was going to be coming back to this a lot.

He turned around just in time to see Eddie and Dustin come in together. He lit up with a large smile as Eddie spotted him. He came bounding up to him.

“I thought I saw a maroon BMW out there,” he said with big smile that took over his whole face.

“Yeah,” Steve replied. “I was little surprised to beat you this time if I’m honest.”

Eddie jutted his thumb at Dustin who had stopped to talk to Lucas. “I would have beat ya if this butthead hadn’t still been showering when I showed up.”

Dustin cried out, “Hey! I lost track of time, okay?” He walked up to them and gave each of them a hug. “I’m glad you’re here, Steve.”

“I can’t wait to do this!” Steve said. “I never got to make them before. My mom would order these great big masterpieces and after New Years when it gone stale, she would just toss it out. I always thought it was a waste of all that candy.”

Eddie’s brow wrinkled. “You mean you didn’t even make one in elementary out of graham crackers?”

“Is that something you guys did?” Steve asked shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Dustin said and pressed his lips together. “Did you go to a private school? Is that why?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment and then nodded. “Yep! That would do it all right. Looks like I really missed out on a lot of fun things growing up.”

Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Have no fear, we are going to help you fix that, aren’t we, Dusty?”

“Hell yeah!” Dustin replied with a huge grin.

“Oh no!” Joyce cried from behind them.

They all turned to look at her and saw her standing there with the first batch of gingerbread, but it was absolutely soggy in the middle.

“Shit!” Jim said. “How much water did you use?”

“Water?” Joyce replied, her voice going high pitched. “I used corn syrup.”

“Well then how much corn syrup did you use?” he said gruffly. “My mom’s recipe added water to keep it from rising.”

Joyce glared at him. “A half of a cup.” And she grabbed her recipe book and shoved it at him.

There was silence as Jim carefully read the recipe. He squinted at the corn syrup and scratched it with his thumb nail. “Welp, there’s your problem. There was a crumb on the page that turned your three into a two. It was asking for a third of a cup of corn syrup.”

He handed it back to her and she sagged against the counter. She looked at all the dough she had made that she had used a half of a cup of corn syrup. “Now what are we going to do?” she wailed. “I don’t have time to make more or you kids will be here all night.”

Eddie grinned. “Got graham crackers?”

She blinked at him for a moment. “I’m sure I have some somewhere, I do have two teenaged boys after all. But I don’t think it’ll be enough for everyone to make houses with.”

Jim put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll go get more at the store. You get everyone started with what you do have and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jonathan said standing up. “You can drop me off at Nancy’s afterward. That way there is one less person making houses.”

“You don’t have to do that, hon,” Joyce said with a sigh. “I can figure something out for you.”

“Nah,” Jonathan said with a lopsided grin. “I haven’t had much of a chance to spend time with her since I’ve been back.” He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed up his coat and things, following Jim out the door.

“I don’t think I’ve met Nancy yet,” Steve said with a frown.

“She’s my big sister,” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “Her and Jonathan have been dating since they were both juniors in high school. Her classes at Emerson finished later than Jonathan’s classes at the state college did, so she just got home.”

Steve nodded.

When they all gather round the table to start their foundations of what would be their graham cracker houses, Steve noticed that Ellie was meticulously cutting the crackers into strange shapes.

“Wha’cha doing over there, Ellie?” Steve asked.

“There aren’t enough graham crackers so I’m making a hobbit house,” she said seriously without raising her head.

“You’re dad is going to be home in a few minutes with more,” he said tilting his head to the side. “So what are you going to make your hobbit house of?”

Ellie raised her head, walked calmly to the freezer and pulled something out. She set the bright yellow box down on the table and carefully removed the contents.

Eggo’s.

They were Eggo’s waffles. She was going to make her “gingerbread” house out of Eggo’s. Which in all honesty, even thawed he bet that it would hold up better than the graham crackers. Those things were bricks unless cooked.

Soon enough Jim was back with the boxes of graham crackers and gave everyone there own box.

With the help of royal frosting and enough candy to feed an army of children they all got to work. Some went the simple route of just a basic house. Some went like Ellie and made something a little grander like Eddie’s van or Dustin’s CV tower. And then there was Mike. It had started off as something a little grander. It was supposed to have been his parents house, but the second he put the last gumdrop on the roof, it collapsed under the weight.

“Oh, Mike!” Ellie said throwing her arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at the mess for a moment and then looked up at her. “Do you have paper and a grey marker or crayon?”

“What’s on your mind there, Mikey?” Eddie asked.

He just grinned. “You’ll see.”

He worked on it for a moment or two and then asked for scissors. Jim got what he was doing first and chuckled. Then Steve caught on too.

Then Mike put his creation on his fallen house. Everyone burst out laughing. He had drawn a tornado destroying his graham cracker house.

“That’s brilliant, Mike!” Will said with a huge smile.

Mike turned bright pink and ducked his head.

Joyce and Jim handed out prizes for the most original, which went to Mike; the most interesting, which went Ellie’s hobbit hole; and best decorated, which had surprisingly gone to Robin, who had designed Santa’s workshop at the North Pole.

“Now for the best part!” Dustin said gleefully and then took a huge bite out of his tower.

Mike grinned, popping one of the fallen roof pieces into his mouth.

Steve looked at them in shock. “You’re supposed to eat them? You don’t throw them away afterwards?”

“That would be a waste of candy,” Robin said cheerfully. “The best part is eating it afterwards.” She picked up one of the candy canes that she used for the door and took a large bite out of it.

Steve looked down at his graham cracker house in wonder. Then he picked up the whole house and took a large bite of the roof.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie said and did the same to the tire on his van.

Soon everyone was joining and just happily munching away and throwing pieces at each other. Steve hadn’t felt so light in years. Maybe in his whole life.

As Steve and Eddie were walking out to their vehicles, Eddie bumped Steve’s shoulder.

“So did you have fun today?”

Steve smiled and ducked his head to hide his blush. “I did. That is a really great group of kids in there.”

“They sure are.”

They made it to Steve’s car first. “Did I ever tell you that I never wanted to in consulting like my dad?”

Eddie shook his head. “And what did little Stevie want to be when he grew up?”

“A teacher,” Steve said with a sigh. He shoved his hands in his coat pocket. “I was going to teach history and maybe even basketball, if they’d let me.”

“Did you play in high school?” Eddie asked, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a long drag and slowly blew it out away from Steve.

Steve nodded and then took the cigarette from Eddie and took a drag of his own before handing it back. He turned to face him and looked up at him as it began to snow. The flakes fell on his lashes and they were so close.

“I’m allowed to bring a plus one to my company,” he murmured, the cold air, making their breath show and mingle with each other. “I want it to be you.”

Eddie took another drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. “You sure you want me to come? I’m not exactly corporate material. I’m loud, I’m brash, and I’m queer.”

Steve moved a strand of Eddie’s hair and tucked it behind his ear. “That’s all the things I like about you, Eddie. You fill up a room with such brightness and wonder. I just want someone there who’s there for me and not what my dad can give them, you know?”

Eddie examined the cigarette for a moment and then nodded. “You’ve got it. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

He flicked the cigarette into the snowbank and smiled at Steve.

“For you.”

~

Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 22

wc: 2556, Masterpost

Danny was flying to Chicago.

It wasn’t exactly his choice to be flying to Chicago. He’d much rather be in Gotham getting some homework done at Jason’s while stealing kisses and food. That was his idea of a good weekend right there and with the end of the semester swiftly approaching he had plenty to do. But no, Sam had told him he better get his undead ass to Chicago that weekend or she’d come to Gotham and drag him out by his hair. Danny had long ago drank his respect women juice (and knew Sam would follow through), so he was flying to Chicago.

Tucker, equally as whipped by Sam, was driving into the city that same day.

Apparently they had to talk about Jason.

In person.

Danny thought it was overkill, but no one wanted to listen to the dead guy about what counted for that, he guessed, so Danny was flying to Chicago.

At least the skyline was pretty to look at as he approached.

Staying invisible, Danny flew into Sam and Val’s apartment from the outside wall. They were six floors up and in a nicer place than two college students should be able to afford. Living somewhere with the security of a front desk was one of the conditions Sam’s parents had for her going to Chicago for college. Sam had complained, but Danny didn’t think she minded as much as she claimed after hearing horror stories from friends about the state of some of the places they had lived.

Danny didn’t see Sam in the living room, but Val was in the kitchen. He floated silently up behind her.

“Boo.”

“I still can and will end you, ghost boy,” she said.

Danny sighed and shimmered into existence. “You’re no fun, Val.”

“You used to think I was plenty fun.”

“Ah to be young and stupid,” Danny said, then had to dodge a punch with a laugh. He floated up to sit cross legged on the ceiling. “Hey! I’m just saying we are both better off not dating each other.”

“I’ll wait until after the interrogation to decide on how good your current situation is or not.”

Danny groaned. “Ancients, how bad is Sam planning to be?”

Val just gave him a look and popped a piece of the bell pepper she had been cutting up into her mouth.

“Okay, yeah. I sorta expected that,” Danny said in defeat and drifted morosely down from the ceiling.

“She’s buying ice cream though,” Val said after Danny had settled into a ghostly puddle. “So if you behave it might just turn into girl talk.”

Danny squinted up at the ceiling. “Real ice cream or vegan ice cream?”

“Both.”

So there was hope then.

Sam arrived with a bang of the door about fifteen minutes later. “Val! I found something scrungly on the street.”

“Hey!” Tucker protested as he followed her inside carrying most of the groceries.

“I found something scrunglier,” Val said, pointing to where Danny was lounging on one of the couches, back to his human form.

“I’ll own that.”

“You!”

“Me,” Danny confirmed with a sigh.

“You owe us so many explanations, Danny,” Sam said, setting bags down in the kitchen.

“Like how did you meet him?”

“So—”

“And when did you know he was a halfa?”

“I mean—”

“And how long have you been dating?”

“Our first—”

“And—”

“Sam! Ancients! You have to let me actually answer if you want answers!” Danny explained.

She stepped out of the kitchen to glare at him, arms crossed. “Fine, come help get snacks and then you are talking.”

“Sure sure sure.”

-

Talking took all night. The only thing, really, that Danny managed to keep from them were Jason’s last name, that he was a vigilante, and how he died (and was revived). The last one was easy, they knew better than to ask, and the first Danny was able to convince Sam it would just distract Tucker. He promised he’d let them have a video call with Jason tomorrow and they could learn his full name then.

But the chase with Johnny, the presents, Jason’s confusion; Danny went into it all. He explained helping Jason through the ectoshots and Jason genuinely becoming his friend. He admitted how early he was crushing on the other, but thought he had no chance because Jason was handsome and smart and so kind. He talked about how warm he felt having that kindness directed at him. And then the date! And the date that he planned… he sounded completely gone, he knew that, but he was.

Luckily how gone he was seemed to sooth a lot of Sam’s anger at not being told for so long. It all went better than Danny expected, and it was good to have his best friends finally know.

None of that made him any less nervous for the video call. He set up his laptop, ignored Tucker’s ‘dude, you still have that thing?’, and pressed call. He had sent Jason a warning text before calling, so it wasn’t long before Jason picked up. He must be on his tablet. It looked liked Jason had actually taken some time to figure out where to sit that would have decent lighting and frame his apartment well. The effort was actually really sweet.

“Jason, everyone. Everyone, Jason,” Danny said, motioning at the screen.

There was a pause and then Sam grabbed a throw pillow and just started wailing on Danny with it.

“Danny!”

“Ow!”

“A Wayne?!”

“Wait, what?” Tucker asked, pulling out his phone. “Wayne as in Wayne Enterprises Wayne?”

“A Wayne, Danny!” Sam landed a particularly vicious hit.

“Sam!”

“You could stop this, you know,” Val said to the screen.

“You know, I don’t really know if I could,” Jason, the not so little shit that he was, said with a grin.

Tucker looked from his phone to the screen and back down again. “Ancients, he’s a Wayne.”

Sam landed one last hit before she took a breath, pushed back her now wild hair, and looked to the screen. “Hi, I like your father’s move to zero impact manufacturing, even if tree credits are mostly a scam and he could do more.”

“Thanks?” Jason said with a bemused sort of smile. “That’s really Tim’s area, I work with the Foundation, not Enterprises.”

Tucker sighed, “You couldn’t be dating Tim instead?”

“He just wants to cuddle the new Wayne phone,” Danny explained after spitting out a feather.

“Got it. What’s your critique?” Jason asked Val.

“Oh, I’m his ex, I just enjoy watching the chaos,” she said, hooking a thumb at Danny.

Jason nodded sagely. “Valid.”

“So,” Danny said, drawing the word out. “As you have guessed, Jason Todd Wayne. Jason, this is Sam, Val, and Tucker.”

“Wait!” Sam interrupted. “If you’re, and you’re, that means then— shit, you really died, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” Jason said with a little shrug and a crooked, slightly somber smile. “The real surprise is actually that I’m less re-alive than I thought.”

“Yeah… Danny told us that you didn’t know you were a halfa. Sorry dude, that sucks,” Tucker said seriously before he brightened and flung an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “But like, the best guy I know is a halfa so you’re in good company! Mostly. The fruit loop is the worst but Dani is great! So you know, three for four is pretty good.”

“I’ve had much worse odds before,” Jason said honestly. “Besides, Danny has been helping me figure it all out. I’d be doing a lot worse without his help. Hell, I was doing a lot worse.”

“Danny said something about corrupted ecto? Sounds nasty dude. Glad that’s clearing up for you.”

“Thanks to Danny and Frostbite,” Jason said, he didn’t exactly shift in his seat, but Danny could tell the question made him a little tense. “It’s not all settled yet, but it’s a lot better and we’ll keep working on it.”

“And what do you do for work?” Sam asked.

“Wow, Sam, could you be any more obvious with that segway?” Danny asked, twisting to look at her incredulously.

“I work for the Martha Wayne Foundation. I do a lot with low income housing in Crime Alley, but also addiction rehabilitation. Literacy is a new project I’m pushing on,” Jason said like the question didn’t bother him. “I might go back to school so that I can do more for it.”

“That’s what you want to do or just what you’re doing?”

“You knew who I was on sight, so I figure you know my story,” Jason said, his tone finally hardening some. “I got lucky, not everyone has that chance. This is a way I can give help back. I still live in Crime Alley and I’m going to make sure that when I die, for good, that it’s a better place than it was when I was born.”

“See? He want’s to do good Sam, just like you, despite having money,” Danny said pointedly.

She looked like she might argue for a moment before she just huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Look, I bet you think I can’t say anything that would actually threaten you—”

Jason raised his hands. “I always respect the capabilities of a determined woman.”

Sam actually paused at that before she gathered up her scowl again. “But I have befriended something as close to a god as you will ever meet, and if you hurt Danny in any malicious way, I will sic Undergrowth on you and no one will ever find your body because it will be decomposing into fertilizer in the Infinite Realms.”

“Got it,” Jason said. “Do you want to meet Pamela Isley sometime? I think the two of you would get along.”

“Pamela Isley as in…”

“Yep. Her wife is my therapist.”

Sam turned to Danny. “Danny, I approve of your boyfriend, even if he’s a Wayne. Val, we’re going to Gotham for spring break.”

Danny covered his laugh at how quickly Jason figured a way into Sam’s good graces, not that Danny minded in the least. He’d take this weekend going well.

-

“Danny?

“Hum? Sorry?” Danny made himself drag his attention away from his phone and up to his friends. It seemed like Jason had missed Danny as much as Danny missed him by all the messages he’d gotten the last few days. There hadn’t even been time to see each other before the week started and now it was already Thursday.

By the expressions the others had, he figured he looked absolutely besotted. Well, damn.

“Do you want to head over to It’s a Grind with us to study for the test?” Cloe asked.

“Oh, I would, but my boyfriend got done with his stuff early, so he’s here to pick me up,” Danny explained with a little wave of his phone.

“That does explain the look on your face,” Fara said with a laugh before she sang, “Danny and what’s his name sitting in a tree.”

José rolled his eyes. “Dios mío, Fara, how are you so bad with names? It’s Jason. Danny only mentions him all the time.”

“Hey!” Danny and Fara said at the same time.

“A, Fara, you are, you still don’t know our econ prof’s name and we started our final project today.”

“I do too!” Fara protested with a pout. “It’s… ah… Barry!”

“Baramore, Fara, it’s Baramore.”

“I was close,” she said, tossing a fold of her hijab like it was her hair and she was a cliché valley girl.

José rounded on Danny. “And two—”

“Shouldn’t it be B?”

“And two!” José repeated more firmly, “Danny, you really do mention Jason a lot. Not in a bad way, but you were so gone for the guy even before you started dating that we had bets.”

“We did,” Cloe confirmed. “I won, of course.”

“Of course you did. Why do I always make friends like this?” Danny asked with a sigh.

“Because you only attract the best,” Fara said with a wink and finger guns.

Danny barked a laugh at that. “Sure. But anyways, I have to go, but I will totally catch you another day to study, it sounds like this test will be a beast.”

“Sure, I’ll message you about some time, but start studying before it since you’re missing today,” Cloe ordered.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll study,” Danny said, walking backwards away from the group.

As he turned and slid through a gap of the throng of people gathered outside of the science building, he caught the end of Fara exclaiming, “who I think it is?”

He supposed the cat was out of the bag here too, and for a lot more people. Everyone was staring (and trying really hard to make it seem like they weren’t staring) at the motorcycle parked by the curb. Or, more likely, they were staring at the man leaning against it.

Danny had no qualms taking a moment to stare himself. Jason looked great in tight, black wash jeans and a black and red leather jacket over a grey button up. Ancients it was good to see him again, text and calls just weren’t the same.

“Hey dead boy!” Danny called out. Heads swiveled to him with shocked gasps, but Danny only had eyes for Jason and the smile that lit up his face.

“Hey, fish.” Jason tucked his phone in his back pocked and leaned back in a way that let his legs fall a little more open.

Danny didn’t hesitate to slip in between them and tug Jason into a kiss by his jacket. He gave a pleased hum as Jason’s large hands settled on his hips, rubbing little circles there.

“Good surprise?” Jason asked. He exuded swagger and confidence, but Danny knew Jason well enough now to see the nerves behind the smirk.

Hoping to soothe the worry, Danny kissed Jason again. “Great surprise.”

Some of the well hidden tension bled out of Jason’s shoulders. Still, he apologized, “I think people might have recognized me.”

“Ya think?” Danny asked with a laugh. “As cool as your bike is, I’m pretty sure it’s you that drew this crowd. I don’t mind though.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now stop worrying, dead boy, I’m starving and your text promised food.”

“Oh, I see how it is, you’re just using me for food,” Jason grumbled and shoved Danny playfully away.

Danny let himself stumble back with a laugh and caught the helmet that was tossed his way. “Come on, Jason, feed your starving college boy.”

“And what does my starving college boy want?” Jason asked before he tugged on his own helmet and swung one leg over his bike.

“Hum, other than you?” Danny teased once his helmet was on, knowing only Jason could hear him now. His words were rewarded with a snort of amusement. “Let’s go to that great Greek place.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Now if I had known that,” Danny said with a laugh. He settled behind Jason, pressing close and resting a hand on Jason’s hip. As they pulled away he gave a cheeky little wave to his friends who had come to gawk with the rest of the students.

Looked like he’d have more yelling over text messages to answer. Oh well, the reward of speeding down the streets of Gotham with Jason was worth it.

-----

AN: Well, more and more people learn about Danny and Jason Wayne. I wounder who else needs to learn about them? Huuuummmmmm.....

As always, stay delightful my darlings and maybe make sure to hydrate too!

I no longer tag people! You can instead subscribe to the masterpost to be notified.

[lamemaster]

Loving the Maelstrom

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Perks of marrying a writer. Nelyafinwe pov.

AN: Istg I get the most random ideas while working out.

Curvo bounced the fussing Tyelpe in his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Maitimo sighed for the what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He glanced across the room at you, your face lit by the flickering firelight. A vicious smirk was etched upon your lips, your eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as you stared into some unseen distance. "She's writing a villainess," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The murmur seemed to quench everyone's curiosity, at least momentarily. Except for Tyelkormo, who perked up at the revelation. "A villainess?" he echoed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Is that why Kano's been playing such… ominous tunes lately?" he asked, directing his question towards a very tired-looking Nelyafinwe.

Before Nelyafinwe could muster a reply, Moryo, ever the impatient one, interjected. "Makalaure, for the love of Illuvatar, can we please have a normal tune?" he pleaded, his voice laced with exasperation

Both you and Kano paused for a fleeting second. Your minds snapped into the present world before grinning widely and Kano launched into another melancholy somber tune. This time, accompanied by your booming evil laughter. 

Such perhaps was the fate of loving a writer. He had known it well as Kano’s brother. A songwriter and musician's angst was familiar to Maitimo. And yours was similar yet, so achingly different.

Where Kano’s music seldom bled into his life, your words lingered in a pervasive presence. The angst of separated lovers, fervor of a brewing war, or the grit of a dwindling hero, you were lost in your worlds even before Maitimo met you. 

And when he did meet you, he also met your worlds. Gay, morose, bleak, grand, your worlds were his now. Your character settled into his thoughts. And sometimes, they carried a part of him or his family. Small fragments of your life that bled into your worlds. 

He liked your never-ending ramblings about a crooked character or exceptionally hard-to-write down plot. And he witnessed your fall into the world who possessed your mind and heart. 

Despite the differences in art, you and Kano were inseparable in the creation of art. His tunes often rang out from your and Maitimo’s home as you scribbled away another tale. While Kano’s music was given a direction of melodies from the stories you wove into the tunes he tinkered around with. 

And this was the rare occasion where both you and his brother were taken by a story so bewitching that from the strums of Kano’s harp to the rouge of your lips- all was tainted with a lingering shade of sinister. 

It had been a week since your robes had been swapped for uncanny dark silken gowns, very much not your usual choice of color, your nails were painted a hue darker almost bloodlike. Even the decor of your study had shifted ambiance similar to that of the Maiar of Namo.

On several occasions, Maitimo had seen you stir your dinner with a smile so venomous that he sniffed his food twice before eating it. 

You donned a gait so seductive that he, almost was tempted to discard the weekly family dinner with his parents. Yet, despite the unease that gnawed at him, Maitimo couldn't deny the jolt of excitement that shot through him when your newly painted nails, tipped with a crimson that seemed to mock innocence, brushed against his arm.

“I just hope sister-in-law and Kano are not going down the Mairon route of life.” Curufin’s words brought Maitimo back to the present. 

The dinner had ended surprisingly well. Kano’s company had perhaps allowed you to shed the world that captivated you these days for a few moments. You were back to your normal self smiling by his side. Helping his mother and brothers set up the dinner table as twins climbed all over Maitimo.

It was only later in the night when his breath shuddered. He gasped as your lips ghosted over his ears. Filthy words spoken without a care of the oddly lonely alley on the way back to your home. Words so daringly sacrilegious that they would have sent a Vanya to the halls of Irmo. 

Maitimo however, was nothing if not immune to the intricacies of your play and definitely not a faint-hearted Vanya. Pulling you closer in his arms, he indulged your little world. Tracing the shape of your lips with his fingers, he kissed you with a wicked smile. 

Nelyafinwe loved every part of you. Even the fucking crazy ones. 

(This one definitely more than the angsty lovers)

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Half-Life | Chapter 5 Teaser

Here is a teaser for chapter 5. It has been like a year and a half since I last updated Half-Life, my god. My life has changed so much in that time (I graduated college, had health issues I'm still dealing with, struggled to find a job in my field so I'm now a nanny, had a breakup after being on and off for 6 years), but I was always going to come back to this story. If nothing major changes, once I finish this chapter, I will officially be halfway finished with this fic!

Masterlist

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

Leon woke before you did, curled around Wolfie’s sleeping form. He stilled for a moment when he came to, the events of the previous night rushing back to him.

To ease his worry, he listened for Wolfie’s heartbeat to greet his keen ears. He let out a sigh of relief when the dog’s heart pattered strong and slow in his slumber, his rib cage expanding with a deep breath.

Leon then sat up, looking over to find you asleep on the couch in the same position he left you. You looked so peaceful, so serene. So beautiful.

Before he could stop himself, he crawled over to kneel next to your blanket-covered body and reached out his claws tentatively, stroking your hair that had fallen into your face. You stirred slightly but you didn’t wake, letting out a soft exhale. His palm remained where it laid upon the side of your head for a moment before he finally retracted it, knowing he was pushing his luck touching you like that.

He cringed when the memory of how he had gotten off to the thought of you came unbidden to his mind, a grimace forming on his monstrous face.

He didn’t deserve you, in any capacity, and that was more apparent now than ever after all you had done for him in the short time you’d been in his life.

For a moment, he considered what he might do if he were still human, if he had met you under normal circumstances—a world where he could ask you on a date, where he could kiss you freely, where he could give you even a fraction of what you’d given him.

He should’ve known better than to dwell on what-ifs. This was his reality: a lonely, miserable existence where he was this terrifying creature trapped within the confines of this abandoned village, and that was never going to change.

While still lost in his thoughts, you awoke, blinking at him to clear your bleary eyes.

“Hey…” you started, reaching out to touch his shoulder, the feeling of your warm hand soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey,” he replied, voice rough. “You sleep okay?”

“As well as anyone can on a sofa, I guess,” you responded with a quiet laugh. “Did you pass out on the floor?”

“Yeah, but I’m used to it.” Leon shrugged to dispel the sternness in your tone. “Besides, I wanted to be right next to Wolfie in case anything happened.”

Your expression seemed to soften at that, offering a small smile. “Makes sense. Hope you got some rest, at least. You needed it.”

Leon simply nodded in confirmation, silence falling over you as you both looked at Wolfie.

You got up slowly from the sofa, stretching out and popping your aching limbs as a yawn overtook you. “We should change his bandages soon.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agreed distantly. You didn’t comment on his morose demeanor despite the furrow of your brows, and he was thankful.

The rest of the day was a quiet one, spent managing Wolfie’s injuries and cleaning up the mess made by the fiasco that was the previous night, mud and blood staining the floor and some of the furniture.

The rain returned as the sun began to set. You had both woken up well after noon due to your all-nighter, so there wasn’t much day left to be enjoyed anyway.

As you prepared yourself dinner, Leon ate the last of his fish and stirred a new fire in the hearth, the chill of yet another storm seeping into the room.

The relative silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. The both of you just simply had a lot on your minds.

However, you seemed to liven up after your meal, returning to your usual chipper self. Leon liked you better this way. You always managed to lift his spirits.

“So…” you drawled as the two of you sat beside each other on the sofa, heating up near the fire, “why don’t I read you something? You know, just to pass the time.”

Leon chuckled at that. “What did you have in mind? Not more of that crappy vampire novel, I hope.”

“Well, maybe I could read The Hunchback of Notre Dame? Oooh, or Frankenstein?” you teased him.

Leon rolled his eyes and scoffed in faux offense, the idea of you reading him tragic stories about monsters not appealing to him in the slightest. “Never mind, I’d rather stick to the stupid vampire book. Might actually lighten the mood.”

“Ah, you think teen angst is amusing, do you?” you replied with a playful grin as you retrieved the novel.

“Only when it’s this ridiculous.” He returned your grin, grateful to be out of his own head for a while.

You tucked your legs beneath you when you sat down once more, beginning to read aloud from where you last left off. Leon simply watched you from his periphery, appreciating the curve of your cheek, the slope of your nose, the way your mouth moved as you spoke. He realized then that you could have been reading a damn math textbook and he would be content to simply listen to your voice and rake his eyes over your plush form.

A couple hours had passed when you finally closed the book, setting it on the cushion beside you as you looked over at Leon.

“Thoughts?” you asked with an impish smirk.

“Still sucks,” came his blunt reply. “That Edward guy is a creep. Bella should be steering clear of him. Why anyone would think this is a cute love story is beyond me.”

You laughed, a tinkling sound that warmed him more than the rippling fire. “Aw, come on, Leon. Where’s your sense of romance?”

“Died off ten years ago, I imagine,” he scoffed, the sound rough and sharp.

He regretted his harsh, self-pitying quip when he glanced over at you, seeing the smile fall off your face, replaced with a remorseful expression.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he interjected quickly, offering a wry grin. “Just a grouchy bastard these days.”

He felt relieved when your lips curved upwards once more, cursing himself internally for always ruining the moment with his wallowing, wondering how you could even put up with him.

“That does have me curious, though,” you started, looking almost sheepish. “Could I ask you a… personal question?”

“You can ask me whatever you want, I guess. Whether I answer is another thing altogether.” His eyes glinted playfully, though he braced for the inevitable discomfort of your probing.

“You said that you weren’t romantically involved with your friend Claire, right? But was there… someone else, maybe?”

Leon let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “You want to know my dating history, do you?”

“Only if you’re willing to indulge me,” you responded, gnawing your bottom lip in embarrassment.

The sight of your teeth pressing into the soft flesh had him momentarily distracted, but he cleared his throat, looking away as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, you could say there was… someone. It wasn’t… fuck, how do I even explain it?” he grumbled to himself. “Her name was—is—Ada. The thing between us was intense, but it never went anywhere. We always seemed to be working on opposite sides. Makes things complicated, I’m sure you can imagine.”

“That sounds hard,” you told him, offering a sympathetic nod. “Did… Did you love her?”

The question caught Leon off guard, and his face snapped up to look at you with furrowed brows. “I…” he began, but then stopped short, letting out a deep exhale. “I think maybe I did.”

“But you don’t anymore?”

Leon barked out a laugh, drawing his hand over his face in wry amusement. “What is with these questions? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I guess not,” you replied softly, staring into the fire. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Leon huffed, elbowing you teasingly. “To answer your question… I don’t really know how I feel anymore. I mean, that was a lifetime ago. Thinking about it just dredges up a whole boatload of shit I’d rather keep below the surface, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” You gave him a small smile before you paused, looking away from him thoughtfully for a moment. “Maybe… I could find her for you?”

Leon balked at that. “And what good do you think would come from that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you two could rekindle, I guess,” you replied, looking cowed by his reaction. “If that would make you happy…”

His chest clenched at your words. Christ, you were so impossibly sweet—naive to a maddening degree at times, but sweet. The idea of you going out of your way to search for Ada Wong of all people was almost comical. But beyond that, Leon didn’t want Ada to come here. Not only because he was a monster—one she would probably try to kill—but because you were really all he cared about right now, in the present. The only one he really desired.

He wasn’t going to admit that last part aloud, so he stuck with the first when he responded, “Sweetheart, look at me. You really think I could have some heartfelt reunion like this? I appreciate the intention there, but you have to admit that it’s kinda…”

“Stupid?” you finished for him, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, maybe it is. I guess I forget that most people would freak out around you.”

“I think that’s an understatement,” he said with a light chuckle.

“I just thought… I don’t know… that if she felt the same way about you… it wouldn’t matter…”

“It wouldn’t matter?” he echoed, vexed by the very notion. “Of course it matters. No one in their right mind would just choose to look past this.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “This isn’t some disfigurement someone could accept… I’m not human anymore.”

“I’ve accepted you, haven’t I?” you asked quietly, a look of hurt crossing your precious features.

Leon let out a frustrated growl, closing his eyes. “Yeah, but you’re different. The world isn’t like you. And hell, maybe it should be, but it’s not. It’s violent, and it’s scary, and it’s ugly…” he paused for a moment, letting out a breath. “Like me.”

There’s a silence that stretched out between you after his outburst, and he refused to look at you, staring instead at the flickering flame licking the scorched stone of the hearth.

“You’re right,” you finally said. “I’m not like most of the world. But neither are you.”

He deigned to glance your way and called your name as if to argue, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“You’re not like them because you’re good, Leon,” you murmured, voice small but resolute. “You’re kind, and you’re loyal, and you’re fiercely protective. So I don’t agree with how you see yourself. Not one bit. And if the people you left behind care about you even a fraction of how much you still care about them, they wouldn’t either.”

He said your name again, this time more of a whisper, as he looked directly at you. His mouth went dry as he took in the determined set of your jaw, the fire in your eyes having nothing to do with the flames dancing before you. He didn’t know how to respond, only able to stare at you and wonder how he got lucky enough to have you in his life at all.

“And another thing,” you started, your features shifting into more of a teasing grin to ease the tension, “I don’t think you’re ugly.”

The guffaw that left Leon’s throat was nothing short of thunderous, surprising the both of you and startling Wolfie from where he lay on his dog bed.

“I’m serious!” you exclaimed, your voice earnest despite the smile on your face. “You’re very handsome. As far as cryptids go.”

“You might be the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” Leon responded, though there was only fondness in those piercing red eyes. “I don’t understand you, not one bit.”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “Most people don’t.”

“Well… maybe I’d like to,” he murmured, the humor from the moment fading into something far more intimate. “Could you clue me in?”

You looked at him with a surprised expression, then glanced at the fire to collect your thoughts. “Yeah, sure. Okay…” There was a long pause before you started to speak again, voice low, “The truth is, I guess I know how you feel. To a degree. Feeling like an outcast, I mean. Being treated like a freak. I’ve always been… looked at funny. Between my weird personality and interests that most people think are annoying or creepy… and the fact I’m a bigger woman who lives in a world that believes being overweight is some kind of moral failing… I spent a lot of time alone as a child because of that. And as a teen, I never got to be seen as pretty or desired. I thought I was just… inherently broken, I guess. Unwanted. Unlovable.”

Leon felt a slow, simmering rage begin to bubble up inside him at the very notion of you being mistreated, especially for the things he found the most endearing about you. How anyone could look at you and not see an angel, he wasn’t sure.

Before he could interject, however, you continued on, “I know that’s not true now. I mean, I grew up, found people like me. I’ve had a few relationships. But… I know what it’s like to be lonely simply for being what you are.”

“You didn’t deserve that,” Leon muttered darkly. “All of those people were just blind idiots. For one, I think your personality is interesting.” He paused a moment, contemplating whether he should admit the next part before deciding to go ahead, “And I think you’re beautiful, too. As is.”

If Leon could snap a photo in his mind’s eye of how you looked in that moment—a bashful expression paired with a bright smile—he would keep it in his pocket to look at every day for the rest of his life. 

“Thank you, Leon,” you replied quietly.

“No need to thank me for being honest,” he responded with a noncommittal shrug. “And I appreciate you trying to relate to me. I can definitely see where you're coming from a bit better now. But I still gotta ask… Why chase after monsters specifically, huh?”

“I don't know… I guess it started when I first heard the urban legend of the Jersey Devil. A child born a monster, through no fault of his own, cast out by his family to haunt the woods forever… Maybe I seek out monsters not just because of the thrill, but because I empathize with them.”

“You might have a few screws loose, bunny,” Leon said, letting out a chuckle, “but you have a big heart.” He stopped, rubbing his clawed hand over his face wearily. “Doesn’t change the fact you’re tempting fate, though. You need to be more careful. Just ‘cause you feel for a monster, doesn’t mean it’ll feel for you.”

“You do.”

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

Masterlist

[cariantha]

Hii 🥰

I saw this quote and thought it would maybe inspire you for a story or an edit 🥰

Hi Girlie!❤️I was looking through some of the prompts you've sent me, and a spark of inspiration hit me for this one, so I hammered out a quick fic this afternoon. 🤫Don't tell my boss.

Proud Parents

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 661 Summary: Alan visits Louise at the rehab center a few days after Ethan drops her off.

Alan rapped his knuckles on the frame of the open door. “Knock, knock… are you up for a visitor?”

“Alan, hi. Come in,” Louise greeted. 

“These are for you,” he offered, handing her a small bouquet of pink flowers. 

“Oh, Al, thank you. They’re so pretty. I love lilies.” 

“Yes, I remember. How are you feeling, Lou?” he asked, taking in her new temporary living situation. 

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been a lot worse.”

Alan nodded his head in understanding. “This place is nice. I was expecting something more like a medical facility. This feels more like a hotel.”

“I was pleasantly surprised, too. It was very nice of Ethan to set me up here. Would you like to head to the lounge for some coffee?” 

Alan extended his arm, gesturing for her to lead the way. “It was also kind of him to drive you here and help you get checked in. I hope you can appreciate how difficult that was for him, Lou,” he said as he followed her down the hall. 

“I do, and I'm grateful." She sighed, "Truth be told, I would have preferred it to be just the two of us, but he insisted his girlfriend come along.”

Alan took a seat on a nearby couch as Louise poured them each a cup of joe. “Oh? He hadn't mentioned that, but I'm glad Sawyer was there for him.”

“Still like it with cream?” she asked, holding up the container. 

“Please,” he answered. “What did you think of her?”

“She was very…” she thought for a minute, trying to find the right word, “protective of him.”

Alan smiled to himself as Louise handed him the coffee and sat in the armchair next to him. “Good.”

“He seemed pretty protective of her, too,” she admitted. “I confess I wasn’t very polite, and he let me have it.”

“Makes sense, especially since the attack at the hospital.”

Louise looked down into her coffee cup with a regretful frown. “I remember you mentioning that, but honestly, I was a little out of it at the time. I don't recall any of the details, only that Ethan had been there. Was Sawyer there, too?”

“Yes,” he answered morosely. “She was one of the victims… she was at death’s door, but thankfully pulled through.” 

“Oh, I didn't know that.” As Alan recapped some of the details, Louise was surprised to hear how harrowing the event had been. “How scary for them both. I can’t even imagine.”

Alan nodded slowly, then glanced reflectively out the window at the snow beginning to fall. “It rattled him, Lou,” he said. “Between the attack and your overdose, it's been a lot.” He returned his gaze to his estranged wife. “He still carries an enormous amount of hurt. Give him time and grace to navigate through it all.”

Feeling guilty, Louise nodded and looked down at her coffee again. 

Attempting to lift the mood, Alan shared, “Sawyer's been a good influence on him. She's a real sweetheart and isn't afraid to go toe to toe with him.”

Louise took a sip and shook her head with a knowing smile. “Lord, he was such a headstrong and stubborn child.” 

“You have no idea, Lou,” Alan chuckled, then added, “but he was a good kid. And he's become an even better man. I couldn't be more proud.” 

“I know I don’t know him like you, but I’m proud of him too. And I’m thankful he had you, Al. You did an amazing job raising him.” 

Alan dipped his chin in thanks, trying not to get emotional. 

“So, have they been together long?” Louise asked, bringing them back to lighter conversation again. 

“They've known each other for a little bit, but their relationship is still relatively new. It took a while for his stubborn ass to catch up with his heart.”

“That makes sense. He looks at her like he just realized what love is.”

Alan smiled joyfully. “Because I think he finally has.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction 

@jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst 

@liaromancewriter @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75

@socalwriterbee @txemrn @midnightmelodiz @snoopdogcone

@rafasgirl23415

[ri-writes-if]

I'm usually a Vezmancer, but this time I decided to try all the routes and Laz...my my my what do we have here? I love the Oracle being this morose, hissing wet cat to him, hitting him with the "Why are you doing this I'm doomed to die sooner or later, stop it, let me die in solitude" is just marvelous (I'm a sucker for that sort of thing). (I also love being able to just pick whoever without worrying about always picking that RO in other scenes).

I truly hope at some point we get to circle back to the loneliness conversation (for added angst maybe after Laz fs up and get to hit them with the "should've stayed lonely I guess" and idk turn invisible or into a bird/butterfly so they can't/won't look at us and fly off).

I do have a question, mostly because I can't remember what the warnings were prior to this chapter, but just how dark can we make the story? Cause I noticed that every time the Oracle starts to go dark, they immediately bounce back. Like with Argellan (apologies if that's not how it's spelled, I don't remember assholes' names out of disrespect lol jk I'm just terrible with spelling) they almost start to cry and then just don't. Or they feel helpless and then just get determined even if most options I pick are the passive/I deserve this and "oh well guess I'll die" options. I'm not complaining, mind, I get going down the major depression path is not something everyone wants to do nor is comfortable doing, and that's 1000% ok. Your story, I'm just here for the ride.

I'm mostly curious given the warnings on if those tags are for the other characters? Or if it depends on our sanity or if it can get darker later? To set my expectations if you will. No need for spoilers and if it makes you uncomfortable/upset apologies, please don't feel the need to answer.

Regardless I look forward to confusing all the ROs with my pessimism and chaos.

I’m glad you enjoyed Laz’s route! Thank you for sharing your thoughts 💛

I understand you might want more “depressing” options, but it’s just not the direction I planned for this main character. They can end up in a pretty bad situation if their sanity falls, but overall, their potential tragedy is in misinterpreting what they need to become happy.

The Oracle is someone who wants a better life. It’s at the heart of their character. Every decision they have been making their whole life is pushed by this desire. They might be doomed, but they’re not going down quietly. They will force themselves to get up even when the situation is bleak, and that was the point of that moment—to show that they don’t allow anyone/anything to beat them down easily. They never have, and that’s why they’re still alive and trying to not just live, but live well.

Their developing arc isn’t “I want to live love laugh” vs “I’ll die so everything’s meaningless”, it’s more like “I’ll become a better person against all odds and find my place” vs “I’ll take what I want by any means necessarily even if it makes me miserable”. That’s as much as I can say without spoilering things.

So yeah, they’re not staying in the gutter. We’re actually at the point in the story where they begin to pick themselves up and take control of their life.

For the warnings—it’s mostly for what the Oracle encounters, though some of it will apply to them if you go down a particular path. Let’s just say… they might end up in a worse situation than they’re in now, you know? 🌚 Perhaps you'll enjoy that route! :)

[poisonzeth]

First of, the vinsmoke siblings were born blonde (different shades)

"thank you, you're always so sweet"

"Anything for you, Robin-chwan~"

*A breathy laugh* "oh, and Sanji? Your roots are starting to show"

"My... Roots?"

"Yes, of your hair, although I would encourage you to wait a little before you dye it that lovely blonde again"

"I... Robin-chan, I'm a natural blonde..."

"Your roots say otherwise, here, I'll lent you my mirror so you can see for yourself"

"Ah... Thank you, Robin-chan..."

"See?"

"... ... ..."

"Are you alright Sanji? You're looking quite pale"

"Yes... I... I'm alright... I just... Forgot I had something... urgent to attend to... So..."

"Are you su-?"

"Yes"

"A-alright then, I'll see you later?"

"Of course!"

Anyway now onto the Acechiji

At their first meeting, Ace and Ichiji fight and Ace burns him alive (Sora almost killed him for that), except Ichiji is fine, not only is he fine, but the creatures inside of him seem to have been incinerated

What Judge did to them was basically turn them into perfect vessels, pretty dolls to be used whenever whatever Judge worked for wanted

Ichiji might be free of that now, but he's still an empty toy, prime for the taking

Ace helps him free the rest of the siblings and they all run away together, guarded by Sora

-----------

just a silly idea:

The first time it happens they're both drunk at a party.

The host is one of Ace's many, many friends and they're staying the night there anyway so they might as well take the opportunity to participate in some drunken shenanigans.

It's not the first time Ichiji gets drunk, even after being accidentally freed from *it* by Ace, but it is the first time he gets drunk at a party, surrounded by people he might consider friends. He has heard many stories about Ace and his friend's stupid yet fun adventures while intoxicated, and he's hoping to participate in some so, despite being drunk and slightly disorientated, he is still conscious enough to have fun and make memories of drunken shenanigans.

Except that's not what happens.

He isn't entirely sure how he ended there, almost lying on Ace's lap, cradled in tanned arms and with hot breath tickling his skin.

Ace seems drunk, probably more drunk than Ichiji is, his face is flushed and his breath stinks of beer. He tries to hug Ichiji closer to himself, rubbing his face against Ichiji's as his hands roam all over Ichiji's back.

One of Ichiji's hands takes hold of Ace's shoulder unsure whether to pull him closer or push him away, he ends up doing neither and his other hand hangs morosely onto Ace's loose tank top.

He bites his lip when Ace gets his hands under his shirt, making shivers run down Ichiji's spine.

Ichjii isn't sure what's louder, the music, their friends' guffaws or the beating of his heart; and he is half afraid that someone will turn around to their dark corner and see them.

But then Ace shifts his face slightly and kisses the corner of his mouth and all thoughts scatter and leave his brain.

The hand on Ace's shoulder slides down his shoulder plate and then turns up his nape and head -Ace's feel so soft against his fingers- and Ichiji shits his head to receive the next kiss fully on his lips.

A hand entangles itself in his hair and the cold air raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of his back, and Ichiji feels like a taunt string and melting wax at the same time.

Ace kisses more than just his mouth, his lips travel all over Ichiji's face and neck before returning to lick at Ichiji's lips, who opens his mouth as curious as he is excited.

His body trembles ever so slightly as Ace deepens the kiss, stealing the breath out of Ichiji's lungs and replacing it with fire.

Feeling himself growing lightheaded, Ichiji pulls away enough to pant oxygen back into his lungs, and Ace goes back to leaving molten kisses down his neck and now onto his shoulder, where he rests his forehead for a second before falling asleep.

They don't talk about it the next morning.

and then it takes them months to actually get together

----------

just picture these morons acting like nothing happened but it keeps happening whenever they drink so they just... stop drinking altogether... and then the incident where Ichiji kinda got possessed again (different entity) and then saved by Ace again happens and they say "fuck it" and finally get together

-----------

"Log 1 of the ...huh... it feels a little embarrassing to call it a diary, don't you think?"

"well... that's what this is... is it not?"

"I mean, *yeah*, but we could call it something different, cooler, like... ehhh... Ace and Ichiji´s.... huh... what do they call those books where they write down things and what they are?"

"A Diccionary?"

"No, more like, I don't know, animals? And how they look and what they eat and whatnot"

"... A bestiary?"

"Yeah! That! But ours would be more like aaaaaa a *monstiary*"

"This is more like a Travel Log but-"

"Monstiary sounds cooler"

*a low chuckle* "If you say so"

"Alright then, let's start over," *cleans throat* "Log 1 of Ace and Ichiji's Monstiary Adventures," *"Where did Adventures come from?"* "Date November 20 2010, Location Barry, Wales, and what are we doing today, babe?"

"We're going to the beach"

"*Exactly*, excited for your first trip ever to the beach?"

"Technically not my first-"

"The others don't count, you were possessed"

"..."

"So? Excited?"

"Well... yeah"

"Then let's go!"

*the two men laugh and the recording ends*

----------

Ace is kidnapped by Teach so Ichiji goes to the Institute for help, he has many more tapes like these so Sabo, Luffy and Sanji can angst about how happy their brothers sounded in those recordings and add more stakes

they start their logs after a misadventure where a different *thing* got possession of Ichiji's body and Ace was less willing to burn him alive again and helped free Ichiji through the power of love, the only video they had recorded at the time (Ichiji did something that Ace found really funny) and a little bit of fire (they get together after that, determined to enjoy es much of life as they can, while they can)

----------

*a door creeks* "hello there, come in, how can I help you?"

*The door closes and steps get closer* "you're... The archivist"

"Nico Robin, nice to meet you"

"Same. I'm looking for someone, I-I needtheirhelp-"

"Alright, take a deep breath" *deep inhale* "hold it a second... Now let it out" *loud exhale* "how about we start from the beginning, What's your name?"

"Ichiji.... Vinsmoke Ichi-"

"Robin-chwan~" *the door opens*

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT DOING HERE?"

"SANJI?" "Sanji?"

"ROBIN GET AWAY FROM THAT"

"Sanji, wha-SANJI PUT DOWN THAT-" *loud crash, ceramics break* "OH MY GOD, SANJI-WHAT-?"

"WAIT SANJI"

"GET BEHIND ME ROBIN"

"SANJI I MEAN NO HARM"

"AND WHY WOULD I BELIEVE YOU? YOU-"

"IT'S ME, ICHIJI, YOUR BROTHER"

"MY BROTHER DIED YEARS AGO, MURDERED BY JUDGE, ALL OF-"

"LOOK, I'M EMPTY..."

"... ..."

"I'm empty..."

"How?"

"I'll tell you in a moment, first, I need to find Sabo"

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

Teach kidnaps Ace because he was to take over/gain control of the fire entity that has been stuck to Ace's family throughout generations, and he's about to do his think when he finds out that the *thing* is incomplete, since it has been slowly, very slowly, been migrating into Ichiji's hollow body, to nobody's knowledge

which is what keeps Ace alive (although not exactly well) and what drives Teach to taunt the others and reveal his location, now wanting to get his hands on Ichiji too uwu

oh, and by taunt I mean he definitely sends at least 1 audio recording of himself where he tortures Ace a little

-----------

"Statement from Vinsmoke Ichiji regarding the kidnapping of Portgas D Ace, start"

"Alright, it happened 3 days ago, we-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but may I suggest starting from the beginning?"

"The beginning?"

"How about... how did you two meet?"

"Well... we met a little over two years ago now, Father had business in Hawick and I was taken with him...back then I wasn´t like I am right now, sure, I was given a lot of freedom to roam around but how free can you be when you have another *entity* inside of you doing whatever *it* pleases with your body? I-... ... ... so I went to this coffeeshop called The Gretel near river Teviot, and I bought a drink I didn't like, not because they messed it up or something, it just wasn't my taste, I knew from the beginning that it would be, it didn't suit my tastes but *it* certainly suited *it*´s and at the end of the day *it* would always matter more than me... I sat there waiting for Father to call for me when I felt a *very* intense gaze on me, and two tables to my left I saw this *weirdo* just staring, he was resting his head on his hand and just... stared at me, I wasn't exactly scared but it did unnerve me a little, I felt so... exposed... *it* didn´t like him at all, of course neither did I but I didn't like him because of the creepy staring while *it* didn´t for a reason I wasn't sure of at that moment. In any case, I wanted to get out of there as much as *it* however, while I wanted to return to the hotel *it* decided to take a walk around town, it didn´t surprise me that Ace followed us, and I had already come to terms with the fact that he would be dead in a minute when *it* got us to an isolated alleyway; I was starting to disassociate when *it* turned me to attack him, I was expecting the pain of being torn apart open from the inside and being disassembled that always came whenever *it* wanted to come out instead I...I felt a pain I hadn´t ever felt before, and I had felt many types of pain by then... I... I was burning, I was being burnt alive and I knew I was screaming, well, I think I was but I couldn't hear myself, no... I could only hear the crackling of the flames and *it*... *it* was screaming in pain... I had never heard that before and I'll never forget that sound... ... at some point, I passed out and the next thing I knew I was in the bed of some dingy room being cared for by the creep that burnt me alive... and I was empty... *it* was... gone... it was exhilarating... ... ..."

"I can only imagine"

"I had completely forgotten how it felt to be the one in control of my own body... even if I could still feel the hollowness beneath my skin... in any case the creep introduced himself as Porttgas D Ace and gave me a drink, it tasted like the one I drunk at the coffeeshop but now I could simply... not drink it, which I didn't and Ace gave me something else more to my taste. He apologized for the staring and stalking and we ended up talking, I hadn't truly *chatted* with anyone in literal decades so it was a little awkward but Ace is more than used to dealing with awkward people so he made up for my... lack of social skills. I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I couldn't settle anywhere if I didn't want my Father to show up so I decided to travel with Ace. First, we got as far away from Hawick as we could without leaving Scotland and went on from there, we met with a lot, and I mean a lot, of the friends he made while travelling and I started to make plans and prepare to try and get my siblings, having that little taste of, well, of life, lit something within me so I decided to go back, and Ace decided to help me, even though I hadn't even asked for his help... we set fire to the whole place and dug my siblings out of the ruins, I didn't even try to search for my father's remains, if there were any... we all travelled together for the rest of the year and (tbc?)

----------

Knowing about the Vinsmoke's properties makes Teach also want to use them like Judge did uwu

just picture Ace, beaten up and already felling guilty about his curse moving into Ichiji and being used to lure him

now panicking over what Teach would do to him if his plan succeedes

How did Ace's curse get until Ichiji? It's kinda silly

-> Sex, every time Ace came inside a part of the curse moved into Ichiji.

Teach has his own demon telling him the method, he will cause some hem before he actually listens tho (Ace gets to watch the whole ordeal)

-----------

eeeh TW Violence and body horror? oh and implied threat of sa

||The Vinsmoke siblings are, *look*, human enough, radiography will show how normal and human their insides are, but when Teach stabs Ichiji the sound the skin makes as it cracks and breaks is that of ceramics, and when he fulls the knife out it drags pieces of skin, showing the dark and empty hollowness under it, except, it's not *empty* no, there's a warm orange light there||

||it's an astounding sight, it has Teach cackling loudly as he throws the knife away and grabs a hammer, as he raises it and brings it back down onto the body underneath him ||

||Ace yells as he pulls against his restraints, he's distraught and furious at his own impotence, unable to do much other than watch as the hammer opens more of Ichiji's ribcage, as Ichiji screams in pain and trashes trying to topple Teach off of him, but he can't||

||Teach reached inside, pulls and breaks another piece of Ichiji's unbleeding body before reaching deeper in, he is almost elbow deep in Ichiji's ribcage before he yelps and pulls out, breaking Ichiji even more||

||Teach inquires about taking the flame out of Ichiji and about how to put something else inside, actually, maybe he could push the flame out by filling Ichiji with something else, but how? how did Ace do it?||

||he finally turns to Augur||

---------

aftermath?

||Just thinking about Ace finally being free and ignoring whoever freed him calling for him to wait and let them tend to his injuries but he runs to Ichiji even more broken and battered than him||

||shards of ceramic-like and bloody skin thrown around the room||

||he isn't even sure if Ichiji is still alive, the whole of his torso is almost the size of it, one leg is completely gone, one arm has a gaping crack running from shoulder to wrist and the other lays centimetres away from the rest of his body, his other leg is cracked and half of that foot has fallen into itself||

||Ace repeats curses under his breath as he cuts his palms collecting the shards||

||Ichiji lets out a whimper and Ace almost drops the pieces bloodying his hand to turn and look at Ichiji's face||

||It's also cracked, part of his cheek is gone and so are his eyeballs but his lips move ever so slightly and Ace does his best not to cry in relief||

----------

Ichiji didn't tell his siblings about the kidnapping incident

in the aftermath, Sanji goes through Ichiji's contacts and just tells their siblings that something happened and that they needed to go to the Magnus Institute

they arrive now knowing what to expect but very worried

they have a tearful unexpected reunion with Sanji

After the whole ordeal and after gluing Ichiji back together, when he and Ace fall into bed for the first time, Ace is being incredibly gentle and slow, and taking his sweet fucking time with the foreplay go the point of accidentally teasing Ichiji and annoying him

Because he's actually kind of afraid of hurting/breaking him again

So Ichiji takes the lead to ride him and show him that he's not that delicate

[liaromancewriter]

Beautiful Day

Premise: When Kyra feels sorry for herself, a friend changes her perspective.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Kyra Santana & F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 940 TW: Mentions of cancer and chemotherapy

A/N: I've wanted to write this story for a while now, but waited until I could do it justice. It's set during the latter half of intern year/book 1. Submission for @julychallenge prompt "friendship"

She did not want to be the Cancer Girl. As she entered the last few months of her twenties, she was determined her thirties would be about Kyra Santana. Maybe she didn’t know yet who that woman was, but she was excited to learn more about her.

A wave of sickness rose from her stomach to her throat, but she stubbornly tamped it down. For now, though, Kyra mused, that journey to self-exploration would have to wait.

Her hands gripped the edge of the treatment chair’s armrest, fingers clenching and unclenching around the padded material. Tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling, she counted backward from fifty and felt the nausea recede by the time she hit ten.

This wasn’t her first rodeo with chemo. She barely even felt the port under her collarbone, pumping drugs directly into her veins. But it was a reminder that she wasn’t whole. This device that sat just below her skin, a disc-like bump visible above the neckline of her loose-necked top.

Her mood turned morose, leaving behind the hopeful optimism of a few minutes ago. The disease had defined her twenties, and with six months of treatments in this round, it would define her thirties, too.

Who was Kyra Santana, if not Cancer Girl?

“Uh-oh. I know that look. Do we need to jump out of a plane again?”

Startled from the stormy thoughts clouding her brain, Kyra looked up into the teasing green eyes of Cassie Valentine, a half-grin lifting the corner of her lips.

“I’m game if you are,” Kyra chuckled, noting the expensive-looking gift basket she was carrying.

Her heart sank at the idea of having to throw out what would no doubt be fancy chocolates, gourmet cookies and other goodies. She didn’t know how to tell Cassie that her stomach was not up to such snacks.

When she finished a session, it took all her energy to get home before she crashed, let alone eat anything rich. Most days, she barely managed to keep anything down.

“Once was enough, Wonder Woman,” Cassie rolled her eyes, pulled up a visitor’s chair and plopped herself down.

“Here, this is for you,” she handed over the gift basket wrapped in cellophane with a red bow on top.

Kyra stared at the unusual basket in bemusement. Instead of snacks, there was a stack of multi-colored plastic cards fanned across wrinkled tissue paper.

“I figured you wouldn’t have the energy to cook after your sessions,” Cassie explained when Kyra arched one brow in question. “So, I got you gift cards for food delivery apps, restaurants in your neighborhood, ride-share apps and the like.”

Cassie leaned in and pointed to a brightly colored envelope tucked under the cards. “There are also a couple of gift certificates for nail salons and day spas for when you want to shake off the Chemo Blues.”

“Marry me,” Kyra blurted out, overwhelmed by the gesture more than the basket. An indescribable feeling of gratitude filled her chest.

Cassie gasped and pressed a hand dramatically to the base of her throat. But a small giggle escaped her lips. “Wow, you’re easy to please. Of course, you did flirt with me the first time we met.”

“You flirted back,” Kyra reminded her, grinning, unoffended.

“I can’t help myself,” Cassie shrugged, mirth swimming in her eyes. “It’s in the genes.”

“Well, if you ever want to experiment or play for the other side, I’m your girl,” Kyra teased, knowing her friend was only into guys.

“Deal!” Cassie winked and threw her head back in laughter.

The nurse entered the infusion room then. She checked Kyra’s vitals, asked about any adverse reactions to the drug protocol and made notations on the chart before leaving them alone.

Kyra adjusted the blanket across her lap, tucking her forearms under the fleece. Although she’d been hot earlier, the cold from the air conditioner now raised goosebumps on her skin.

“You don’t look as harried as the last few days,” Kyra commented, scrutinizing the lack of dark circles under Cassie’s eyes and the neatly tied blonde hair, not a strand out of place.

“The ethics hearing is over. I get to practice medicine again, doing what I love,” Cassie said, stretching her legs and crossing sneaker-shod feet at the ankles. “I didn’t realize how much I loved being a doctor until I thought it might be taken away forever.”

She paused and smiled softly. “Plus, it’s a beautiful Spring day, and I get to spend my break with my friend. Life is good, and I’m blessed.”

“It’s that easy, huh?” Kyra mused, disbelief coloring her voice. “Even with the long hours y’all work, grumpy attendings and PITAs?”

“Even then,” Cassie said, waving away the objection. “My father always tells my brother and me to be thankful for the small stuff and not sweat the big stuff. I’d forgotten that lesson this year but won’t again. I have two more years of residency left. I’m going to practice medicine my way and not worry how someone else would do it or what they’d say.”

Kyra nibbled her lips as she reflected on Cassie’s words. “Before you came, I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself.”

“And now?”

“And now,” Kyra sighed softly and blinked. “And now I’m grateful I have someone who’d give me a basket filled with gift cards instead of useless stuff.” She glanced at the window. “I can see the sun shining outside and smell spring in the air.”

She reached for Cassie’s hand, squeezing it in gratitude and friendship. “It’s a good day to be alive, and I’m blessed.”

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (1/7/2025) Episode: All Natural

Noemi and Skye headed straight from the clinic to the market, where a bunch of old friends were waiting for them.

Elyse had quickly agreed to join the group, and when her mom had begged off Noemi invited Amaya so she too would have a friend (her husband clearly didn’t count). “Its so good to see you again!” Skye gushed when xe saw Elyse, earning xemselves a laugh from xir crush.

 “We hung out yesterday silly,” she replied “but its nice to see you too! Now come on!” she rushed on ahead, leaving Skye to follow slowly after.

With the teens off doing their own thing the adults took a look at what was available for sale. As they tested out the comfiness of some couches Luigi chatted with Peppino about his newest location. “So, branching out into Selvadorada, huh?” he asked, “How many clinics does that make now?”

“This will be my 5th” the ancient researcher of science and magic replied with a proud smile. “I never thought my odd little pregnancy breakthrough would end up in such high demand. Now that they have the option, I’m amazed at how many men come to me to get pregnant. Lots of male couples like your dads, of course, but many come on their own, or like your friend Beau have decided to carry their child instead of their female partner.”

“This trip to the market actually grew out of a recommendation from one of my clients – well actually two, which is a funny story…” he continued “If we see them, I’ll introduce you. For now, though, what do you think about this green one? I think it could be perfect for the waiting area.”

“Skye! What’s wrong?” Elyse asked when she realized her friend was lagging behind, a morose expression on xir face.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Skye replied, forcing a smile, but she didn’t believe that for a second. “No, you’re not. Now tell me what’s up.”

Skye sighed “I got my cast replaced before we came here; the old one was too tight. Now my arm is sore. I’ve got some pain pills in my inventory.”

“You don’t need pills!” Elyse interrupted, “There’s so many natural remedies out there that are SO much better, and better for you, than whatever they put in those drugs. Come on, I’ll show you!” Skye wasn’t convinced, but xe let her lead xem towards the bubble machine setup a few feet away.

“I think I’m going to be sick!” Skye said, nausea from the strange golden liquid only adding to xir discomfort. “I don’t think this was a good idea.”

“I don’t know what happened” Elyse stared down at the nozzle in her hand with a puzzled expression. “According to the “bubbles for a better you” website this formulation is supposed to be great for relaxation and pain relief. Maybe this batch is just expired?”

“I see you found the bubble machine!” Amaya chuckled as she and Noemi came over to join them “These things can be a crazy good time, but you gotta be careful; the wrong ones can really mess you up!”

“Are you OK honey?” Noemi asked, noting her child’s distress “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be mixing this stuff with your meds.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Skye hasn’t taken any meds.” Elyse replied cheerfully “I’ve been reading up on the healing properties of bubbles. Once we find the right formulation xe won’t need any pills. Right Skye?”

Before xe could respond Noemi snapped “There’s a time and place for natural remedies, but BUBBLES are NOT medication! They certainly are not a substitute for ANYTHING Skye’s doctor has prescribed or recommended! I hope I don’t need to remind YOU that xe is dealing with a broken bone!”

“I… I’m sorry” Elyse whispered “I was only trying to help. Skye, I think I better go. I’ll text you later. It was nice seeing you Ms. Arroyo, Aunt Noemi.” With that she stood abruptly and started walking back towards the teleporter.

“You had NO right to do that!” Skye cried, extremely hurt by Noemi’s words on Elyse’s behalf “how could you!? Elyse… wait!” Xe jumped up, walking as fast as xe could the direction she had fled.

“Please, don’t go!” Skye tried again, finally catching her attention as xe got closer to the embarrassed girl.

Elyse stopped and waited for xem to catch up, frowning as xe doubled over, still clearly in pain. “Skye, just take your meds, OK? I’ll wait.” Once xe had swallowed a couple pills she continued “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worse, I really thought the bubbles would help.”

“I know” xe replied “I’m sorry mom snapped at you like that, she was totally out of line. Don’t leave, we can get some food and listen to the musicians.”

Elyse shook her head “No, I think its better if I get out of here, give her time to calm down… why don’t you come over when you get back and we’ll watch a show?” “I’ll come with you now.” xe insisted, but she shook her head again “I just want to be alone for awhile, but later, OK?”

“Can I see you out at least?” xe asked reluctantly. She nodded, smiling as she took her teddy bear’s hand. “Sure, it’ll be a lovely walk to the teleporter.”

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[mimilind]

A Magical Classmate - Part 8

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 3500

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

Draco and you start dating for real. When he meets an old friend, part of his burdens may be lifted from his shoulders.

8. A Wizard and a Muggle

After Draco made up his mind, it was like turning a switch. He changed from morose to cheerful, and after many more sweet kisses he asked you to follow him home. 

Unlike the last time you were in his apartment, now there was no need for him to hide anything from you. He showed you how he used spells for everything from cooking to cleaning his teeth, and some of his wizard equipment too. He had a clock with strange numbers and symbols, and several sets of black robes which you recognized from the Halloween party.

“No wonder you didn’t know how to use electrical stuff when there are so many spells. And how sly to dress like your real self for Halloween!”

He smirked. “I thought it was a brilliant idea.”

Next he pulled out a photo album where each image moved. Most of them pictured a chubby toddler smiling toothlessly into the camera.

“You were such a cute baby.”

“Really? I think I was ugly. Look, I had no hair at all.” He traced an image with his finger, where baby-Draco was riding a broomstick across a neat lawn. “Flying is what I miss most from my old world; there is this sport we have, where we use broomsticks and different balls and I was rather good at it.” He absent-mindedly rubbed the callouses in his palm. Perhaps he had gotten them from gripping the broom handle.

In the next picture a handsome man with long, platinum hair was posing in a chair, his lips curled in a contemptuous smile. The likeness with Draco was striking, apart from the arrogant expression. It could only be his deceased father. 

Draco frowned and turned the page.

Another photo showed a beautiful woman at a concert piano, her fingers dancing soundlessly over the keys. 

Draco’s frown disappeared and instead he looked sad. “That’s my mum. She taught me how to play.” He nodded at his own piano.

“Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes.” He shut the album closed and put it back. “Want to see my potions? I made most of them myself.”

He had rows of bottles with labels in his neat handwriting. You examined one marked ‘dreamless sleep’. “I can see now why you like chemistry.” 

“The subject has many similarities, yes.” He took the bottle from you and put it back. “I don’t think I will need this tonight.” He gave you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you came. I always hated sleeping alone.”

“Same.”

His words reminded you of how late it had become. With everything that had happened you weren’t sleepy at all.

“Shall I put out an extra mattress or will we share my bed?” Then he quickly added: “I meant for sleeping, not…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks colored rather cutely.

“We can share.” You were secretly relieved he had no other expectations; you didn’t think it a good idea to rush it and sleep with a guy on the first real date.

Preparing for the night together with Draco was very different this time. Now you were sober, and had all the things he told you still fresh in your mind. When he undressed and exposed his tattoo you now knew the meaning of it, and though the sight of him in a tank top still gave you butterflies, it also reminded you of his dark past.

It felt a bit awkward and embarrassing to take off your pants and socks in front of him, but that disappeared when you slid under the comforter and was met by Draco’s warmth and now familiar scent. You edged close and pressed your nose against the crook of his neck, and he put his arm around you, softly stroking your back over your t-shirt.

Despite the late hour, neither of you were tired. Protected by darkness you talked, sharing more about yourselves; childhood memories; hopes and fears; personal things you had never told anyone before. 

When you could think of nothing more to say, you started kissing again. Lengthy, intimate kisses, so gentle and soft your heart swelled with fondness. 

After a while the kisses changed, becoming more intense. Draco raised himself on his elbow, leaning over you to deepen the kiss, slipping a hand under your t-shirt to caress your bare skin. 

You responded with the same eagerness, mimicking his movements. When you explored his broad shoulders and hard, flat chest, and felt his heated skin against your fingertips, new emotions stirred in you.

Draco drew back first. “Maybe we should sleep,” he mumbled breathlessly. “It’s already past sunrise.”

You willed your heart to slow its pace, glancing at the windows where a faint light spilled in. Seagulls squeaked outside, a common sound around dawn in this city. You estimated it was three or four in the morning. 

“Sure. But this time of year it’s always past sunrise.” You gave him a last, sweet kiss. “Good morning then, and sleep well!”

“Good morning,” he replied with laughter in his voice, looking adorable with mussed hair and chapped lips from all the kissing. 

Not long afterwards you fell asleep in his arms with a smile lingering on your face.

You were surprised with how easy it was to get used to dating Draco. How his magic became part of your everyday life in the same way as his company grew familiar and comfortable. It soon felt completely natural to let him warm and dry you with charms after a cold swim, or eat a meal he used spells to cook. When you had a headache you swallowed a potion rather than medicine, and if you wanted to get somewhere it was very practical to ask Draco to apparate you instead of taking the bus, even with the nausea you got from the teleportation.

Draco adapted to you in a similar way. Under your influence, he learned to dress like a muggle and how to use all the electrical appliances in a normal home. He bought a TV, a mobile phone and a Playstation, and no longer had to be bored when alone in his home. Not that he was alone much; the two of you alternated between staying at your apartment and his, and you rarely spent a night on your own.

This day was warm and sunny; Sweden was showing its best side. You were at a beach not far from the city with Catrine, Andreas, Martin, and Martin’s boyfriend.

Draco lay stretched out on his back on a patch of grass between the bare, smooth cliffs, closing his eyes against the sun. He wore only swimming trunks and had used a spell to hide the Dark Mark; it was apparently a bit of a hassle to keep up which was why he normally preferred long sleeves.

You took the opportunity to admire his body, rare as it was to see him shirtless outdoors. You found him especially attractive now, in an adorably scruffy way; his hair disarrayed and damp from bathing and his jaw covered in stubble, and a healthy tan contrasting with a scatter of fair hairs on his chest and stomach that continued in a thin line down to his trunks. The sunshine painted his ripped torso golden and the mesmerizing sight gave you flutters. 

Suddenly you wished you were alone at the beach.

He opened his eyes. “I’ve been counting back. We’ve dated for two months today.”

Catrine made two thumbs up. “Yay! This calls for a party.”

“Why not? You’re all welcome to my place tonight, then.”

It became a wild, but fun party. The morning after you were tidying away empty bottles and scores of burst, heart-shaped balloons (a gift from Martin), feeling perfectly well thanks to a dose of one of Draco’s amazing potions, when he came out of his lab looking slightly concerned. “This was the last batch; from now on we’ll have to resort to muggle medicine.”

“Can’t you buy more?”

“No, I can only get the ingredients from a wizard apothecary and if I show up in the magical community my cover will be blown.” He sighed. “I wish I had polyjuice potion; then I could have gone there looking like someone else. As of now, I’ll just have to make do without potions.”

You didn’t like the sound of that at all; you had gotten too used to his potions to give them up. 

You pondered over it for a few moments. “What if you use that concealing spell? You could go to the apothecary and take it off long enough to buy what you need.”

“Hmm. I doubt any shop owners in this country know me by sight… it might just work.” A pleased smile broke out on his lips. “I could buy more glassware as well, and a new cauldron.”

“Can I come too? I’d love to see a part of your world.”

He firmly shook his head. “No. Too risky.”

By now, however, you had become an expert persuader, and Draco clearly had a weak spot when it came to obliging you. It didn’t take long for him to budge.

“Alright then,” he acceded in mock exasperation. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

Draco chose an early Saturday morning for your visit since he figured the place would be basically empty at that hour. He apparated you to the entrance, which was located downtown in an underground garage. When you arrived, fighting your usual nausea from such transportation, a sickening smell of stale urine worsened your condition.

“I had imagined it to be a bit more stylish,” you said, covering your nose.

“Wait to judge until you see what’s on the other side.” He went over to one of the walls and stood in front of a spot that appeared no different from the rest of the whitish-gray surface. Using his wand, he tapped a pattern.

“There; it’s open.” He took your hand. “You need to trust me for the next part.”

“Always.”

“Then close your eyes.”

You closed them only partly; you didn’t want to miss what would happen, but when he commenced to lead you through the wall they squeezed shut by their own volition at the last moment.

You opened them again at the other side – widely. “Oh my God,” you breathed.

Entering the Swedish wizard shopping area felt like being transported back in time at least a century. The buildings were quaintly mismatched, with pillars, turrets, and decorative trim, and the street was paved with uneven cobblestones. 

“Welcome to Trollstavenyn. Pretty neat, eh?”

Under the disillusionment charm, and a silencing spell to hide your voices, Draco could show you around, explaining what was in the shops, and you gaped at everything with excited awe.

“Amazing. I wish we could go into them all and look more closely.” You pressed your nose against a window with an assortment of animals inside. 

“We’d better not.” He took your hand again. “Let’s shop for potion ingredients now. I’ll need to remove the muffliato charm so remember to keep very quiet.”

The apothecary was even more intriguing than the other shops you had passed. On the crowded shelves you saw jars and bottles of everything imaginable, from powdered spiderweb to unicorn lashes soaked in rum. 

Draco pointed his staff to himself, turning visible again, and walked up to the counter where an elderly witch was labeling glass bottles. “God morgon,” he greeted in Swedish. “I need some ingredients.” He handed her a list. 

He was waiting as she packed his purchases into a bag when the doorbell rang and a beautiful witch entered. Unruly curls cascaded down her back almost to her waist.

“Draco?”

You went cold. Oh no! This was exactly what he had feared. To be recognized. Would he have to move away now? You couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

On hearing the witch’s voice, Draco’s frame grew rigid, his features undergoing a strange transformation from neutral to haughty. 

He slowly turned around with a contemptuous sneer on his lips. “Why, if it isn’t Granger,” he drawled.

She closed the distance in two long steps, looking genuinely delighted. “I can’t believe I found you of all people, here, in this small town! Where have you been these years? How have you been? You just disappeared. Everyone wonders what happened to you. And your mum… I used to work with her and even she doesn’t know where you are.”

His sneer immediately disappeared. “Mum… works?”

“Yes, can you believe it? But she’s changed. A lot.”

“Is she, uh… well?” His voice was neutral but his face betrayed his coiled tension.

“She’s worried about you. And misses you, of course.”

“Oh.”

The look on Draco’s face wrought your heart. You slipped your hand in his, squeezing it. 

The witch narrowed her eyes. “Is someone there?” She looked vaguely in your direction and you held your breath, keeping as still as you could.

Draco frowned. “I have to go.”

“Wait… It’s been so long. Can we talk over a butterbeer or something? I want to put your mum at ease. Please.”

You squeezed his hand again, looking at him encouragingly. His cover was already blown; he might as well talk to her and find out more about his mother. You knew he missed her too and regretted he had had to leave. Whenever the topic of parents came up, he would grow rigid with repressed emotions.

“Alright then,” he muttered.

As the witch led the way to a nearby inn, you were dying to ask Draco about her. Was she one of the kids he had mentioned who would pretend to be his friend because they envied him? Or was she one of those he had bullied? But if so, she wouldn’t have looked so glad to see him…

The inn was small and cozy, with wood paneling and a merry fire burning in the fireplace despite the warmth of summer. Draco and the witch received their drinks, and you eyed them curiously. They smelled sweet, like toffee. Maybe you could try one too after the witch had left. 

The witch sipped her butterbeer. “I still can’t believe I chanced to meet you. I’m only here for a brief visit to learn about the Swedish Short-Snout dragon’s healing properties. For my research.”

“You study healing, then?”

“Yes, and soon finished, too. This research is for my final thesis.” She continued talking, first about her studies, then mentioning several names, relating what they did now and who dated whom – small talk, that you had a hunch was mostly meant to make Draco at ease. 

When she was done, a silence ensued. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to take another sip but the bottle was empty. 

“Draco…” She leaned across the table, becoming serious. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, but you disappeared so soon after the war there was never an opportunity.”

He blinked. “Thank me?”

“For not turning us over to… him. That time in your manor. We were caught, and I know you recognized us, but you said you weren't sure who we were. You saved our lives.”

“Oh.” He shifted his stance again. “Well, then we’re even, I guess… You guys saved my life in the war too.”

“Have you been in Sweden all the time since it ended?”

He shook his head. “I went to South Africa first, to a sanctuary for magical creatures. I, uh… volunteered, actually. After Dad died, I just wanted to get away from everything. Get a fresh start.” He looked at his empty bottle, twirling it in his hands. “It didn’t work too well, as it were; as soon as people heard I was British I’d get questions about the war. All the questions I didn’t want to answer… Then I figured with my looks I might pass as a Swede and moved here instead. Unfortunately the language was complicated as hell so I thought ‘screw it, I can’t pretend to be from here’, and joined a muggle university as an exchange student.”

“A muggle university? You live among muggles?” The witch’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her curly bangs.

“I know; ironic, isn’t it? I thought it would be the last place anyone would look… But, getting to know some muggles, I found that… It became more than just a hiding place.” He glanced at you. “I’ve made friends here.”

”There is someone there! I knew it.” Her piercing eyes brushed over you again. ”You can show yourself; I don’t bite.”

Draco and you exchanged gazes and you nodded your head. He could reveal you; the room was empty and your table wasn’t visible to the innkeeper. And you didn’t think this woman was a threat. 

He touched you with his staff.

The witch gaped at you. “You brought a muggle with you? You really have changed, Draco… I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” She stretched out her hand. “I’m Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you.”

You recognized the name; she was one of the three who had been Draco’s chief adversaries at school. He had recounted to you many of his past squabbles with the trio, sometimes with amusement when he described the more harmless pranks he had put them through, other times with obvious guilt over his behavior. 

That considered, you were surprised Hermione acted so friendly. You didn’t think the warmth was feigned.

“I suppose I have changed, yes,” he said. “It’s been liberating to be an unknown nobody. And to do some good.”

Hermione smiled. “You’re so much like your mum. She’s a volunteer at St Mungos Hospital and works with patients who were injured in the war. She feels guilty for being part of the side who did that to them.”

He looked thoughtful at that.

“Can I tell her about you? I don’t want to expose you if you don’t want to.”

Again you were baffled over the kindness and consideration of this woman. If she kept his secret Draco wouldn’t have to leave you after all. Relief filled you.

Draco seemed to have similar thoughts. He met Hermione’s eyes for the first time, replying with gratitude in his voice. “You can tell her I’m well and that I’m happy, but please don’t give away that you know where I live… you can say we met at Gringotts or something, and I didn’t give you the details.”

“Alright, I will.” She rose. “Can I send you an owl the next time I’m in the vicinity? I’d love to keep in touch. If it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Sure.” He suddenly blushed, dropping his gaze again. “Hermione… For what it’s worth. I’m sorry for everything… I was a jerk. I don’t deserve your kindness, really.”

”Think no more of it. And I’m sorry too; my friends and I could be a bit harsh at times. Everything was either black or white when we were kids. But we all grew up, thankfully.”

“Surprisingly, we did.” he smiled wryly. “If you see Potter, tell him I still think he’s a twat but that I’m sorry.”

She grinned. “I will. But you should tell him yourself or he won’t believe me.”

When she had gone, Draco renewed the charm that hid you, and bought another couple of drinks, handing one to you. It tasted like it smelled, sweet and syrupy.

“Well, that was awkward,” he said.

“She seems nice. And you did well; apologizing like that was brave. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m honestly a bit proud too.”

“Will you go see your mother?”

He looked thoughtful. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he put his arms around you.

“I support whatever you decide.” 

Draco was silent and brooding the rest of that day. In the evening when you lay in his bed, he kissed you with unusual tenderness. Like the first time. 

“I’m so grateful for this. For you, for my friends… I’m a lucky bastard.”

“You deserve it.”

“I disagree.”

“No, you really do. You saw what kind of person you were and left him behind together with the rest of your old life. You became a new, better you. After giving so much up, you deserve everything good coming your way. You deserve friends. You deserve forgiveness.” You looked deep into his eyes. “You deserve love.”

He replied with a long kiss, overflowing with feelings.

You responded, and then gently pushed him onto his back. You kissed a trail down his neck, and each of his many tiny scars and nicks from hexes thrown on him in the war, and then the faded Dark Mark. Showing him how none of his past mattered. 

“I love you,” he mumbled thickly.

Your chest filled with warmth at hearing those words for the first time. “I love you too.”

When you started to doze off in his arms a long while later, you felt happier than you thought possible. Draco loved you. Even if he decided to return to his own world you were certain he would take you with him now. 

You also felt hope for him, for a happier future. Hermione’s visit had shown him he wasn’t as hated as he had thought. He would get closure eventually. A chance to make everything right again. 

He deserved that.

A/N:

I'm leaving it open whether Draco returns to live in the wizarding world or stays in the muggle one. But you, Reader, will be at his side, no matter what. :)

Thanks for reading, and don't hesitate to comment! I always love to hear from you and what you think about the story.

Note: The wizard town Trollstavenyn is a pun, “trollstaven” = the magic wand, and “Avenyn” is a famous Gothenburg street. :) My husband made up the name for me, so I assume it’s peak dad humor. XD

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[batbux]

untitled janet/talia, Bruce's bio kid Tim AU -> no choice but to love you pt. 4

FIRST | SECOND | THIRD | FOURTH | FIFTH | SIXTH | SEVENTH | EIGHTH | NINTH | TENTH | ELEVENTH | TWELFTH | THIRTEENTH

AO3 Link (a little behind, but better edited)

---

“This is outrageous.”

Bruce sighed, head propped up on a fist and still looking through the results of his last hour or so of intensive research. He felt more than he heard Talia move behind him and begin threading sharp nails through his hair soothingly. He might be tempting to take the comfort at face value, but knew she was likely only reading over his shoulder again.

Bruce hadn’t handed Janet’s little gifts off to any of his people. He could do it himself, after all, and something about her story had rang true enough that Bruce wanted to initially limit the number of people that knew. He couldn’t justify not telling Talia, however, and had called her on his way down to one of the labs on the lower floor.

Talia dealt with things best after she got her initial gut reaction out of the way and could be logical about the whole thing.

She strolled into WE even before the rapid DNA test was finished, not a hair out of place. She sat with him until the results came back confirming that the owner of the provided DNA sample was definitely the biological child of Bruce Wayne. And then she started pacing while Bruce got to work.

For her benefit, he clicked over to the basic background he’d run on Janet Drake. Talia sniffed derisively at the attached photo, the one she’d provided for her passport.

“You really laid with her, beloved?” she asked, voice appropriately morose.

Bruce didn’t believe it for a second. “What, like you wouldn’t have?”

“You are avoiding the question,” she said, similarly avoiding the question. “Why her?”

“We weren’t together at the time. I was traveling without Dick or Alfred and ended up in Cypress for a few days. I witnessed her get off the phone and throw her wedding band into the pool and offered to buy her a drink,” he explained and shrugged. “We were both from Gotham and homesick. I asked, but birth control can fail.”

“Or she lied.”

“She didn’t.” Bruce began pulling up medical files for Talia to peruse. Her hair dragged across his neck as she leaned in to see better and he couldn’t resist tilting his head to rest against her. “I pulled her medical files. She had an IUD at the time of conception and had to fly back to Gotham to have it removed. He ordered bed rest and even so the chance of a miscarriage was so high that she was warned not to name the- the fetus.”

“The baby,” Talia corrected for him. “Your baby.”

Wordlessly, Bruce straightened and pulled up a picture of little Timothy Jackson Drake. Unlike most heirs of Gotham’s elite, pictures of the boy were few and far between on social media or in the press. So, naturally, Bruce hacked into Janet’s cloud in hopes of finding more.

He did, but not by much. Travel logs put the Drakes out of the country for a good chunk of the year and only a very broken trail of nannies left to mind the little boy while his parents were off globetrotting. Only their housekeeper had been with the family for more than a year.

And they wanted another, Bruce thought despairingly.

“He looks like you,” Talia said, an almost sad twist to her mouth making Bruce want to lean in and kiss it away. “Exactly like you. Jack Drake must be a fool.”

“I was bigger at his age,” Bruce said carelessly, carefully spinning around to face her. She let him take her hands and look hard into her eyes. “Listen to me. This doesn’t change the love I have for you or Damian. This was an accident, yes, but there’s no reason being angry with Janet or Tim.”

Talia’s own piercing green eyes searched his face while he tried to work against his training and remain open and honest. He owed her transparency. He owed her the world for sacrificing her entire life when she abandoned her family and the League.

“What does this Janet want with us?” she asked after a long moment, taking her hands back from Bruce. She instead wrapped them comfortably around her baby bump.

“She said that Tim’s parentage came into question when she and Jack tried for another baby.” And because if he could be petty with anyone, he could be petty with Talia, he added, “Because I guess having a child fixed their marriage so well in the first place.”

Talia’s eyes strayed back to the screen where Tim’s picture was still prominently displayed. “He does not look like a miracle worker, but I suppose I will have to reserve my judgments until I meet the boy at least. I notice that he does not, in fact, have any siblings.”

“Jack’s infertile,” he said. “Or close enough. When he found out, he ordered a paternity test and filed for divorce the next day.”

“Quick. Efficient.”

“Janet tells me that he’s the one that wanted children and that she doubts her ability to care for Tim on her own.”

“He means to leave her destitute?” Talia asked, leaning over Bruce to click back to his profile on Janet. She scrolled through to look for other pictures, faculty IDs and visa photos and whatnot. “She’s attractive enough. She may join my harem if she so chooses.”

“But it was a problem when I slept with her,” Bruce complained. Talia flashed him a dangerous grin. “No, the divorce proceedings do seem fair to her. I think that it’s more that she doubts herself as a mother. I think she fears what damage she could do to him as a single mother that didn’t want a child in the first place.”

“She knows of your other rescues and seeks to leave him on your doorstep, then.”

“Talia,” he growled. She patted his cheek condescending.

“Relax, beloved. Jason was the one to label himself as such and Richard already loathes me,” she said. “I mean them no ill will.”

“He doesn’t loathe you.”

“He does and it works for us.” She gave an elegant shrug. “And what of Jason? You’ve only just acclimated him to our lifestyle and now you mean to add another right before Damian arrives.”

“I’ll talk to him tonight before patrol,” Bruce promised. “Jason likes other kids and it isn’t like Tim is moving in tomorrow. Janet and Tim are still living with Jack for now. With any luck, we can figure out a joint custody agreement that works for everyone. In the future Janet wants to give me primary custody, yes, but she wants to be a part of Tim’s life.”

“So we will be co-parenting with this woman,” Talia sighed dramatically and Bruce very lovingly didn’t point out that five minutes ago she had been inviting “this woman” into her harem. “While you no doubt ply her support at every opportunity. I implore you to wear a condom this time, beloved.”

Bruce straightened in his chair in indignation.

“You impregnated her through an IUD last time,” she continued. “Who knows what you could do with the woman if she’s not using birth control this time.”

Bruce, very lovingly, did point out her hypocrisy now. “Talia, you were just inviting her into your harem. I feel like you’re projecting.”

“I would never turn a straight women even if they were truly beautiful. If they are happy settling, who am I to take that from them?”

“I don’t know for sure how Janet identifies, but I can say for sure that she’s slept with at least one woman,” he said. Talia looked delighted. “Apparently she was out of the running for paternity pretty soon, though.”

“I can work with that,” she declared and gently lowered herself to his lap. He took her added weight effortlessly, wrapping his arms around her to secure their precious cargo. She kissed him, long and sweet. Against his lips, she whispered, “I am angry. I know you do not place much value on blood ties, but I…”

“I know,” he whispered back, pressing his forehead against hers. “But thank you for trying.”

“I am,” she said. She tried to breathe through the lump forming in her throat, but pressed together like they were, Bruce must have known. “I do try. It doesn’t come easy for me, but I try.”

“You make the choice to be here with me every day. You’re working so hard and I see it, Talia, I do.”

She had no words for that, so she just curled against him as best she could with little Damian between them. Not the first of Bruce’s blood sons anymore, but the first of hers and cherished all the more for it.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "While You Were Sleeping"

It seemed like the right time to dig out this older story of mine and revisit it. I even created some fic cover art for it at long last. I originally wrote this for @searchingwardrobes' Captain Swan is my Favorite Rom Com collection on AO3, and I had a lot of fun adapting one of my all-time favorite movies While Your Were Sleeping to include Killian, Emma, and many of our other favorite OuaT characters. I hope you will enjoy seeing it again, or seeing it for the first time, as this week's self promo re-run.

~*~ Complete in 8 Chapters ~*~

Also available on AO3 or ff.net if that is your preference...

by: @snowbellewells

Part One: Prologue

“Next.”

The clink of the subway token in the steel drop slot made its familiar sound as Emma Swan almost robotically gestured the traveler through to make room for the next and fished the coin out to add to the growing pile on the counter at her elbow. At this point, the main part of her job at the Riverside subway terminal on Boston’s Green Line was so routine she barely paid attention or even looked at the equally harried and distracted commuters, but simply gathered their fares, waved them on, and kept the line moving. It certainly wasn’t exciting or life-changing, but it paid the bills, kept her and her cat fed, and if she daydreamed meanwhile about someday traveling beyond the bounds of the city’s subway network, and having someone to travel with – well, no one had to know that but her.

The jangle of another coin in the till jarred her from her morosely-veering thoughts and reminded Emma of her duty, “Ne-” she began to say, even looking up at this person as if to prove she wasn’t lazing on the job, but the words froze on her tongue at the sight before her.

It was him – the mystery man who traveled through her station every week. Like clockwork, he appeared each Saturday at nine, then reappeared on his return journey in the early evening. Only on Saturdays, but without fail; once a week some pilgrimage brought him to her like a shimmering mirage, leaving Emma shaken and breathless, thinking throughout the rest of her work week that she must have conjured him from her own imagination. Though she wanted to shake her head at the preposterous reaction, roll her eyes at the dramatic way her heart raced whenever this guy came into view, and write herself off as pathetic for behaving with such girlish enthusiasm, it never failed to strike her again on Mr. Handsome’s next arrival.

It wasn’t just the perfectly tailored slate gray suit and handsome overcoat the man wore, the fancy watch on his wrist, or the confident, decisive way he moved and carried himself; it was more in the twinkle of playful mischief she saw in his breathtaking blue eyes behind the proper veneer of his business-like appearance (even on a Saturday), the subtle quirk of his mouth as he never failed to thank her, in a heart-stopping British accent no less, before moving on to his destination, and the way that, though he without doubt had the best products and stylists at his fingertips, there was still an unruly, disheveled mess of curls atop his thick, sandy head of hair. The man was clearly a mover and shaker, powerful, well-to-do, and yet he carried himself as if it were an easy mantle, with the grace not to give his power too much credence or act better than anyone else.

As if to prove her point, the guy smiled at her kindly, even as she did little more than nod dumbly and reach out to take his subway token. His voice was warm, almost melodious with the lilt of that accent as he added, “Thank you, Lass. Have a lovely day.” Then, with a dip of his head and a wink, he was gone, moving off on his way again, leaving Emma looking after him and trying to shake herself back into coherence.

She watched his tall, broad-shouldered frame, now with his back to her, stop on the platform to check the time, and she sighed, dejectedly berating herself for being too dumbstruck to even answer the seeming man of her dreams. “You have a nice day too.” “That’s a great tie you’re wearing,” she snarked to herself quietly, reminding her stunted brain of the sensible replies she could have given Mr. Dreamy instead of merely gawping at him like a fish out of water. “‘You’re beautiful”, “Take me with you…” Letting out a growl of frustration at her own lunacy, Emma buried her head in her hand a moment before knocking her brow against the glass a couple times for good measure. “Stupid, stupid,” was really all she could find to mutter to herself.

However, though she admitted that she might be many things, a wallower was not one of them. After her short personal pity party, Emma drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked up, intending to get back to work – monotony and all. Unfortunately, that still wasn’t in the cards.

She looked up just in time to see her daydreams’ focus be joined on the platform by three other men, looking much less clean-cut and a lot shiftier in their bearings. Whatever the first one said to her suited regular, it clearly wasn’t friendly, as he stiffened rigidly, and Emma did too merely from watching at a distance. The first newcomer gave her commuter’s scarf a flip back over his shoulder, making the muffler fall from his shoulders to the ground, and she could almost read the words on those well-formed lips, imaginary or perhaps even distantly hearing his, “Watch it, you lot. Just back off. I’m not looking for any trouble.” He had turned partially to take in all three of the men who’d accosted him, clearly not wanting to put his back to any one of them, and she could see the storm cloud that had settled on his strong brow, that handsome face dark and warning where before she had only ever seen it show either mild happiness or amused curiosity.

One of the newcomers jeered loud enough for Emma to hear as she cracked open the door of her vestibule, ready to call out and intervene, asking loiters to move on before the next train’s arrival. “Well, you may not want any trouble, guv’nuh,” mocking his English speech obviously as he moved right into her guy’s space, “but what if we do?” And before Emma could call out or make any sort of sound at all, he shoved at her regular passenger, hard enough to send him stumbling back despite his height and the casual poise with which Emma normally saw him move. Though he might well have caught his balance just fine in usual circumstances, they were standing too near the edge of the platform. The next foot he put back to brace himself found only empty space.

One of the hoods bent quickly to swipe the dropped briefcase he had been carrying; while another gave her handsome stranger one last shove in the chest before the three attackers bolted, disappearing up the subway steps, even as Emma finally jolted from her wide-eyed shock, leapt from her stool, and ran toward the fray.

Unfortunately, even as she hurried, she knew it was too late. In nightmarish slow motion, her guy’s arms pin wheeled, still seeking balance. The desperate attempt failed, and Emma skidded to a stop where he had been, grasping for nothing but air as he fell and vanished over the side, plummeting to the tracks below.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @motherkatereloyshipper @stahlop @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @thislassishooked @winterbaby89 @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @justanother-unluckysoul @mie779 @drowned-dreamer @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (34)

part 34 of ?? | 534 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

(I'm tired of updating the link list on every post whenever I put up a new chapter. 🥲 Here's a link to my "Steddie Blackmail Fic" tag instead.)

Summary:

He doesn’t buy that Steve had ‘forgotten’ he was supposed to go over to Robin’s tonight, and it’s weird that he cooked a meal that he didn’t even stay for. The guy didn’t have to do that. They could’ve ordered a pizza or something.

They are going to kiss in part 42 or so help me.

Anyway, enjoy Wayne calling Eddie tf out and Eddie is just like,

34.

“Nice of Steve to make dinner even though he had other plans,” Wayne says. 

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles, dragging a piece of garlic bread through some of the orange-y red sauce on his plate. He doesn’t buy that Steve had ‘forgotten’ he was supposed to go over to Robin’s tonight, and it’s weird that he cooked a meal that he didn’t even stay for.

The guy didn’t have to do that. They could’ve ordered a pizza or something.

His uncle sighs and spears another bite of pasta with his fork. “Ed, are you going to quit finger painting with your food, or are you gonna say what’s on your mind?”

“No,” Eddie scoffs. 

“Your sides hurting?”

“No.”

Wayne gives him a Look. “Is it about Steve?”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie drops the garlic bread and scrubs both hands across his face, getting his cheek greasy in the process. “Yeah, fine, I think he’s avoiding me.”

“This got anything to do with why you look like a puppy that tracked shit in the house around him?” Wayne frowns. “I thought you talked to him about that money.”

“I did,” Eddie grumbles. He’d also talked to himself about killing the crush before it got any worse, for all the good that had done him. “I told you, we agreed that he could move in and we’d call it even, it’s fine. He's . . . a busy guy.”

Translation: too good to spend one on one time with Eddie. Which, truce or no truce, Eddie morosely figures he deserves. 

Things like this have been happening ever since the Hellfire rising seniors and alumni came to the house a few days ago. Eddie hopes that he hadn’t overheard some of the guys’ King Steve comments. 

But . . . the only other explanation he can think of is that Steve is going on dates. And the way Eddie’s stomach twists whenever he contemplates that possibility tells him that he’s done a terrible job of weeding out that crush. 

Is it just a crush when it’s on someone who has literally saved your life?

Fuck. Oooooh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, it’s not a crush. It’s so much more than a crush, when the fuck did that happen? 

He’s falling in love with Steve Harrington. Not the one everyone in Hawkins knows from school, but the Steve who helps him hang band posters and bakes amazing chocolate chip cookies. Who painted his own bedroom a soft, buttery yellow after admitting that he’d always hated the wallpaper his mom picked out for him when he was little. Who gave away basically all his paycheck for months trying to give a sad story a happy ending, and keeps playing the tank for a bunch of kids who can’t seem to shake their dangerous adventuring habit even away from the D&D table.

Who will never like him back, because Steve is good and Eddie is a human cockroach. Even though sometimes, sometimes, Eddie almost thinks. . . . But that’s just from looking through hopeful, falling-in-love goggles. Jesus H. Christ, Eddie thinks as he feels Wayne’s questioning gaze still on him, he should have realized how utterly gone he is for Steve much, much earlier than this.

Fuck.