#bad breath granny best

[sillyblues]

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

.

.

.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

[fawnning]

EAT MY HEART OUT WHEN NO ONE'S WATCHIN'!

turbo!okarun x ayase!reader, 2.3k. MDNI

song rec; house of cards, bts

explicitly implied that both reader and okarun are well over 18, supposed exorcism? no intro though, ropes used, uncomfortable positioning, okarun is his usual bleak self just much less, afab reader, not proofread.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, shit makes me sad." Okarun whispers behind you, his voice is groggy and intimate, it makes you wonder if this would ever die down after the first round of attempt. 

"What gives you the idea that I'm not?" You're so cocky and adamant it pisses even yourself off. 

"If you really needed my assistance, I woulda expected a thank you at least, y'know?" you start.

"I know, and I'm sorry, really, I am," He sounds so pent up you're sorry for him again. "It's just, I can't stop, 's like I don't even realize it."

"I've got an idea, it might not work, but it's well worth a try," You flip the switch on, the light is dim but it gives you a clear image on what you're working with now.

Somehow Okarun looks much worse, like he's been put through and denied for centuries, maybe.

"Granny mentioned something about warding off spirits with ropes internally,"

"This fucking sucks," He growls out of desperation. "Just gimme a sec, I'm sure it's somewhere in here." You grab at a thick wad of the rope that was scattered around the room, a few yards of red might do the trick.

"What are you even planning on doing? Looks dumb," He sounds dumbfounded as you bring him to his knees, cuffing both wrists, you decide to let him stay free to an extent by letting his hands rest in the front, you tie a knot secure enough it might just cut his blood circulation off.

"This looks.. awfully familiar," He stares from the sidelines of his view. "Too bad you're gonna have to put up with it," You wrap the rope around his neck, tight enough he's got room to breathe and bark around more.

"That should do the trick," You ponder at the years of helping Okarun maintain his composure, it's a stretch to say that he hasn't thanked you enough, but now seems like the best time to get a rise out of him, it's no risk either, when it's someone like Okarun, you've known him since he's donned what could be titled the worst haircut since the dawn of time.

"Y'know, Okarun, don't you ever feel an ounce of pity for me?" You start, it's obviously a joke but it overwhelms him, all those years of having been saved by you, vice versa.

"Of course I have, I mean, it might sound a lil' stupid but I've always wanted to show you how appreciative I am, sounds cheesy so I figured you'd hate it anyways." There's always a catch to his words, stringing depressingly, but it fits his character.

"Oh, not at all, Okarun, if I were you, I would've done something a whole lot long ago." You murmur and smile down at him, he looks so pretty on his knees you're praying this happens biweekly, any more and you'd end up paralyzed accordingly. 

"And what might you be talkin' about?" His cocky attitude flares up for each and every second you keep him waiting at the edge. 

"You know, all those times you've at least thought about me," You pine on, dragging him closer to the corner of the bed by the rope.

He crawls, he follows obediently and he doesn't ever seem to take his eyes off of you. 

 "I know how badly you need it," Now you're facing him, he still stares up into your eyes in desperation, you watch as his eyes darken to a deep shade of scarlet as he shys away. 

"Don't even think about it, sweetheart, He leans into your space. "Not like this, ain't ideal, ain't a good way to leave a nice impression," 

"Then what is? You know you've been leading me on for years on end," Cuffing his face, you trace along his sternum. 

"Such a pain in the ass," He croons into your neck, resting at your chest, "Lemme feel you," He brings both hands to unbutton your jeans, despite being restrained, he does it with ease. 

"Show me what I'm workin' with, will ya?" He eases right in between your thighs, like he fits right there. 

You question it for a second before he glides a finger through your wet heat without skipping a beat, "That's more like it," his brash manner isn't a deal breaker anymore, if anything, it adds on to the situation. 

"That's what being good gets you, but you haven't exactly been good, haven't you?" At this rate he doesn't want to continue playing dumb just to get into your pants, he breaks past the barrier, Okarun tosses the remnants of the rope to the floor, the part that's still wrapped around his neck remains intact, by control of your hands, your wish.

"Mind games until you made me resort to this, y'know I ain't that typa guy," He adds on. "One to have things my way, but you, you're a completely different case." 

"Always wanted to know what that sweet cunt feels like, too much f'me to handle, figured I'll make things easier for you."

"The rope too, how flattering," He grabs one end of the rope, traces it from your shoulder blades down to the flesh of your cunt. 

His fingers are squeamishly long and slender, watching it feel the mound while he continues to tease you. "Fuck," You whisper, your breath is hot, dense as the air as you watch Okarun continue to glide the rope around either sides of your thighs. 

"Hurry up, can't wait any longer," You whine. 

"What gives you the idea that I'm being patient? If we both had things our way, we'd be at the end of the bed right now, you'd be crying for more," He sketches a wide picture and you're eager to paint it complete for him. 

"You're mean," Your hands grasp for the bedsheets. "I can get worse," he binds your thighs complete, now you're unable to move your arms, your legs are free to roam but he's certain you'd never run away, he grants you the right to speak, wants to hear you scream his name, he says. 

"That good for you? Needed me to keep you bound from giving me what I want." His fingers ghost over your pussy, his fingers slip upwards from your sweet spot, then downwards, you groan over the way he mocks you. 

Just as you least expect it, he brings his fingers to your mouth, coats his fingers wet with your spit before sliding a finger through your slit. 

"So fucking wet," He murmurs, curling the digits where you feel it best. "all of this f'me? Too kind," He digresses, he could never do anything like this, but now it's different, he's been keeping you in check for too long. 

You mewl and toss around just as he brings his free hand to hold you down, he jostles you back in place, resting your thighs around his shoulders. "That's too much, please, Okarun, 's too much," you squeal, feeling yourself go numb for a little over a minute, your very core being played with past your orgasm. 

"Messy, too bad." Okarun hums, he's pleased with the girl he's always wanted to see. To become. If he can evolve into a tale of corruption then sure can you. 

"Okarun— Ken, Ken, 'm gonna cum again," you wail and it slips past your mind voice. Within a split second, he pulls back, the fucking audacity. 

Ken.

Lot's of new firsts tonight, this one defied all odds in his mind. 

It's a lingering thought but you wonder if this is even his first time, you dared not to question it at the start out of what could've been labelled as fear. 

"Say that again," 

"Ken," 

"Fuck." 

He lines his swollen tip over your nub, teasing you where it hurts the most before bottoming out inside you. 

You angle your head to face him, watching as he attempts to ease his cock into you. It's big, there's no way it would fit. He notices as you slowly push away. 

"Hey, no sweat, just the tip, how's that for ya?" He soothes, you hum keenly in response. 

"That feel good?" He whispers. 

"Uh huh, feels too good," You nod and babble, eyes shut, head tilted back, the whole nine yards. 

"I got another thing I wanna try," He interrupts, pulling the tip of his cock to feel your mound, he pushes it slightly down and you watch as it shifts in size for each thrust Okarun gives. 

You feel Okarun as he picks up his pace, followed by you garnering what little energy you've got left to spare. 

"Fuck, can't—" He pulls out in a flash, his eyes are half lidded as he watches his cum sputter onto your lower abdomen.

Now he's slightly embarrassed and his movements are ever-so-slightly rigid, a wave of regret and satisfaction washes over him.

"Again, I'm sorry for that, but I gave you a forewarning," He settles by you in bed.

"Anytime," You retort languidly, undoing the rope around Okarun's wrists. 

"Plus, I still owe you one," It's odd, but as friends, you two are bound to retain an even tally of orgasms. 

"Don't put it like that, dude," He groans.

"You're right though, maybe not now." He murmurs, burying his face by your neck, he hums before drifting off. 

[morganbritton132]

Oh geez this might be a double ask because my phone glitched out when I tried to send previously BUT just wanted to say that I love ur Steve has older siblings au

I also need to say that I shamelessly combined that au with ur post about Tommy knowing Steve the best. Just picturing Steve’s sibs zoning out when his mom lists what he can’t eat because they assume she���s just being difficult. Flash forward a few years and they accidentally poison Steve with like peanut butter cookies and are realllly lucky that Tommy was staying over that weekend and knows he’s allergic.

anyways thx for all ur writing!

I only got this ask once so we’re good! The Steve Has Older Siblings AU has kinda been on hold for a bit because Dustin is either the easiest or the hardest character to write and right now, he’s being difficult for me.

BUT! I love this.

I’m going to change it around a bit because I’m on this kick right now where Steve is allergic to aspirin. Also, with the way that Steve’s mom is written for this AU, she is negligent but protective of her son. I don’t think she’d allow peanut butter in the house if Steve was allergic.

She wouldn’t allow aspirin either but Richard insists that it’s the only thing that cures a migraine (hangover), and Steve’s eight. He doesn’t even like taking his Flintstone vitamins so she’s not concerned about him getting in the medicine cabinet.

It’s not common that Tommy stays over at Steve’s when they’re sick.

Typically his mom watches them at their house but she had to go wake up his grandma (“That doesn’t make any sense. Why can’t she set an alarm clock?”/”I dunno, Steve. That’s what Mommy said. She had to go to Granny’s wake.”) so Mrs. Harrington was babysitting them.

Mrs. Harrington isn’t very good at taking care of them. Tommy wouldn’t tell Steve that because it’ll make him sad, but his mom kinda sucks at this. She doesn’t even give them popsicles for their sore throats or kiss their foreheads to check their temperature. She just disappears for long periods of time to yell into the phone.

Tommy’s kinda happy when she has to go into the office because he thinks Claire might look after them, but she’s apparently studying in her room so Steve’s brothers are doing it.

Tommy secretly likes this better because Jason and Richie are very nice to him, and they tell him that he’s cooler than Steve. No one has ever said that before! Not even Carol and they got married under the jungle gym.

Tommy likes hanging out with them even if he feels icky today.

He is standing in the kitchen next to Steve, watching Richie cut a little orange pill in half with a knife. Richie keeps muttering under his breath about running out of the ‘liquid S H I T.’ Tommy thinks it’s funny that he said a bad word, but can’t laugh about it because he can see the bottle that the pill came out of and –

“I don’t think we take that,” He voices but Richie brushes him off. He says it’s like candy. Tommy has brothers too, so he knows that sometimes you gotta give in or they’ll rub your face into the carpet until you get rugburn, but, “I know but… but what if only I take it?”

“You take half,” Richie tells him. “Stevie over here takes the other half and then we’re right as rain. It reduces fever.”

“Yeah,” Jason adds from behind them. “So your brain doesn’t leak out your ears.”

Tommy looks over at Steve but he isn’t fully awake so there’s not much of a reaction there. Plus, he’s not a very good reader so Tommy’s not sure if he even knows what the bottle says. He tries again, ignoring Jason, “That’s not what Mrs. Harrington gave us earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. This is better.”

“Steve can’t take that,” Tommy tries again after he crunches the medicine between his teeth. He sticks out his tongue so Richie can see that it’s gone, and then adds, “Mommy gave that to him once and it made him really sick.”

“It did?” Steve croaks, snatching his hand back when Richie tries to hand him the pill. Richie tries to force the pill into his mouth but Steve presses his lips together. It makes his brother swear and gesture to Jason, and then Steve is snatched off his feet with a hand pinching his nose shut.

He struggles and Tommy wants to help but he – he also wants Richie and Jason to like him so, he doesn’t help. Steve gasps for breath and the pill goes in…and Steve is fine. He’s angry and out of breath, and his nose is still stuffy so he still kinda sounds like a frog but he’s not.. he’s not blue like last time.

Tommy thinks, oh. He thinks, cool.

Everything is fine for fifteen minutes and then Tommy is yelling out the door of Steve’s bedroom that they need help. Steve is breathing weird and – “and, I – I think he’s going to die!”

A lot of stuff happens at once. Claire leaves her room, Jason and Richie come up the stairs, and they all start yelling and blaming each other. No one really jumps into action until Tommy bursts into tears. Then it’s movement and car rides, and Tommy is sitting in the waiting room at the hospital without shoes on.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there when Mr. and Mrs. Harrington rush into the room. The only thing he does know is that he’s never seen anybody look as angry as Mrs. Harrington did when she sees them.

She looks like she’s going to yell at them but Mr. Harrington grabs her by the arm and drags her to the reception desk. They disappear behind the white double doors that Steve went through.

It only makes Tommy cry harder.

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Types of baby daddy

It wasn't planned but he is going to do his best to help!

(kaeya stans please don't hate me too much before reading the justification)

Cw: AFAB!reader, pregnancy, Diluc is said to be more traditional than average mondstadt people lol,

Marriage

Diluc

Even if he seemed seconds away from dying when you told him, he is particularly more traditional in that regard that the average civilian, so he is already planning a hurried wedding to keep both of your honor (even if most of mondstadt doesn't care beyond a teasing remark)

One week before the wedding as Moka is cleaning a ‘spare room’ Adeline and Elzer approach you with a little gift of clothes and baby bottle from the maids

Childe

He is a free soul, traveling between nations fighting whoever he pleased and as unexpected as this is he feels responsible for the situation

As he is constantly in the road and isn't sure how safe most of them are he gives you two choices, stay in your nation and he visits whenever he can (sometimes it's a twice a month and other times it's once every 5 months) with a pretty free access to his bank account or you can stay in Snezhnaya with his family for support in your pregnancy and child raising but have to move nations

Zhongli

Unexpected, but he doesn't dislike it. You both knew it was possible even if unlikely for an offspring to be born between an adeptus and a human

Either way he gets over the initial shock quite fast as he gets on one knee and asks for your hand, he rationalized it as it being normal for humans his age to be married and form a family (to some extent wonders if it was a sign to settle down with you)

Neuvillette

Water spills from his goblet as does his serenity for a second, quickly apologizing for this mess wide eyed and pale faced, even if either of you two though that was possible

After a chat about your plans and what would be better on the future you decide for a swift and demure marriage with the melusines and Furina being the only witnesses

Cleans up their act

Itto

Even if it's after an earful from kuki or his granny he starts working a job on the port and so far 4 months and he is still hired! Even then you can see his gang on the port the days he does overtime, hiding behind boxes to make his beetle fight

Kaveh

While his behavior isn't as bad as Itto, he would do his best to straighten up his economy, maybe rent or buy a house.

He starts flooding himself with works to the point you can't see him some days if you don't barge in his study, he promises he will take less works when the baby arrives to help you but now he is trying to get as much money as possible

panics and disappears but gets dragged back again

Kaeya

His face loses the color that it usually has as he laughs nervously, he stands up from his chair and hurriedly walks to the door, thankfully Diluc was tending to the bar and managed to catch his brother just a few meters from the door. Now, forced down on his chair and with Diluc breathing down his neck, he faces you

He might not tell you this until midnight where you are cuddled up against the other but he is scared of not measuring up or messing up as a father figure, the first one left him in front of a stranger's house and the other died when he was a teen barely scraping adulthood. He also worries about Khaenri’ah’s past tormenting his child as it did to him, but this is something that will be harder to coerce out of him

Coparent/ goes to a lawyer to get a written agreement

Alhaitham

He admits that it was partially his fault the situation you two are in right now so he asks to draft an agreement of sorts, he proposes a 30/70 custody with him getting them on the weekends and some extra days and a higher child support than mandated, when you two bump each other on the street you still act friendly even when you are discussing where your son should spend Christmas or if you should merge this year

How??

Albedo

Albedo looks at you unblinking, his teal eyes looking you up and down “ I always thought I was sterile. I never guessed homunculus could reproduce…” he says airy before his eyes start sparkling with wonder, I would recommend you retake this chat in 3 weeks after his investigation fever has passed a bit.

Klee might start yelling that she is going to be the best auntie ever

Wandered

He only clicks his tongue, a snarky comment slipping past his lips “so that hag created me with that ability? What would be even the point” even then he holds your hand acting as if it wasn't a big deal

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 4

Prompt: Home

Words: 3100~

TW: Phonetic Scottish Accents (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

This one did not at all go in the direction I meant it to. I genuinely thought this one was gonna be short, that's my bad for thinking a MacTavish family reunion wouldn't be chaotic.

So a bit of Premise, I have a headcanon that Soap's actual name is Coinneach John MacTavish, but only his family calls him Coinneach.

Enjoy!

Ghost tried to steady his breathing as Johnny led him up to a picturesque country home, then around the side, under a few lines of drying laundry, to the backdoor. Johnny gave the door a cursory rap as he pushed it open, he’d barely gotten one foot over the threshold when delighted cries resounded. 

An older woman, maybe fifty years old, came into view as she hustled over to yank Johnny down into a hug. A smile lit Johnny’s face, the likes of which Ghost had never seen before. It was warm and relieved, happy and teary. It looked like Johnny had been told ‘It’s all okay’ and -for the first time- actually believed it. Johnny and his mother held each other for a long moment, each just breathing the other in. Through the door Ghost could see that the space behind them was crowding with people, all impatiently waiting to have their go at hugging the returned MacTavish. 

Mrs Mactavish pulled away, reaching up to clasp Johnny’s face between her hands, planting a long kiss on his forehead, then pulling back again to look him over, murmuring to him in Scots Gaelic. Something Ghost, thanks to Johnny, could now recognize.

Johnny had warned him that it was the primary language spoken under the MacTavish roof, in deference to Johnny’s Grannie, whose grasp of English isn’t the best. Ghost had been forbidden from worrying about it and Johnny had assured and reassured him that "Ma an’ all ae mah wee siblings speak English jus’ fine", so he was trying his best to obey and not stress out. 

Mrs MacTavish released Johnny, prompting even more people to crowd into the room to get at him and Ghost redoubled his efforts to not freak out. Wishing he hadn’t been so adamant in rebuffing Johnny when he’d said no one would care if Ghost wore his mask. Being able to hide behind his balaclava would be really nice right about now. 

“Ye mus’ be this Ghost fella mah Coinneach is always yammering abou’,” The voice piping up at Ghost’s elbow does not make him jump. Ghost is a highly trained Special Forces Operative, he would notice a middle-aged Scottish woman approaching him before she spoke. He Would.

“Oh! Ah’m sorrae, laddie. Didnae mean tae spook ye,” Mrs MacTavish apologises, “Come in, Come in, Donnae stan’ on the stoop like y’ur no' welcome.” 

Ghost finds himself ushered into what he discovers is the kitchen of the house. To his right was the kitchen proper, there was what Ghost could only guess was a genuine wood stove crouched directly in front of the door and guarding the threshold, it was in direct competition with the gas cooker pressed against the far wall, bracketed by counters covered in various appliances that looked like they'd hopped straight off the pages of a fifties home catalogue, but still seemed to be in good repair. Quaintly, the cupboards hanging over them were closed with curtains rather than doors. The only acquiescences to the modern era seemed to be the nice big fridge humming away like an afterthought at the end of the counters, and the washer tucked away in the corner. 

It was a nice kitchen, it looked homey, lived in.

To his left was a long oval table with an assortment of seats surrounding it. Ghost could pick out a few chairs with carvings the same as the ones on the table’s legs that could only be the matching set, but they were outnumbered by ones that had clearly been added as needed. He could also spot a leaning stack of metal folding chairs half tucked behind a hutch in the back, clearly the MacTavish house was well accustomed to crowds. 

Ghost was chivvied into one of the seats around the table, his Special Forces joints extremely grateful for the soft cushion padding the chair and guarding him from the ache of the hard wood. A glance at his table mates revealed whom the cushioning was truly intended for. A lady that must be around seventy sat to his right, and to her right, at the head of the table, sat a man in the same age range. The man was watching him. 

Ghost took an educated guess and presumed that these must be Johnny’s Grannie and Grandad. 

Fucking Hell.

Johnny never told him their names. 

He’d always just referred to them as Grannie and Grandad, so Ghost had always called them ‘your Grannie and Grandad’ when asking after them. He didn’t even know if they were MacTavishs. Thinking about it, they were probably Johnny’s mother’s parents.

Oh, Bloody Fucking Hell.

What the fuck was Mrs MacTavish’s first name. 

How the hell had he managed to have a panic attack over memorizing the names of Johnny’s five siblings and never have the thought cross his mind to learn the names of his mother and grandparents. Ghost is in their house, sitting at their table, and he doesn’t have a single clue what their names are.

What the fuck, Johnny. 

The awkward staring contest he’d been entered into by Johnny’s Grandad was only growing more and more uncomfortable. It’d be rude to look away without saying anything, but what the fuck was he supposed to say, ‘Sorry for barging into your home, Johnny demanded Simon Riley crawl out of the grave that Ghost left him in to come meet the extended MacTavish family’?

Johnny rescued him by coming over to the table, leaning down to accept his Grandad’s seated one-armed hug and back pats, then pressing kisses to his Grannie’s cheek as he passed by on his way to drape himself over the back of Ghost’s chair, because sitting in his own chair like a normal human eludes Johnny. 

He talked back and forth with his grandparents for a moment then turned to Ghost to make the least helpful introduction he has ever been forced to be a part of, “Ghost, this is mah Grannie and Grandad,” Then turning to his grandparents, “This is mah L.T, Ghost.” 

Johnny’s Grandad seemed well used to Johnny’s foibles and reached an arm across the table to shake Ghost’s hand and supplement with his own introductions, “Ah’m Amhlaigh Milne, an’ this is the missus, Fionna Milne,”   

Amhlaigh Milne’s hands were broad with liverspots speckling their backs, textured by hard calluses and soft wrinkling skin. His handshake was cursory and firm. He was a man that had shaken a thousand hands before and had no interest in adding pomp or frippery to the exchange.

“Simon Riley, sir, ma’am,” Ghost replied, nodding to Mr then Mrs Milne, “Thank you for having me in your home,” 

Mrs Milne said something to Johnny in Scots Gaelic, sounding almost despairing. Johnny cried a shocked ‘Seanmhair!’ and a wild barking laugh carvoted out of the kitchen, followed by a multitude of variations on the same. Mrs MacTavish had been puttering about the kitchen getting tea and nibbles together, and was now bracing against the counters to not fall off her feet laughing. The people that Ghost hadn’t been introduced to, but could only assume were Johnny’s siblings, were leaning against each other and various pieces of furniture as they fought to stay upright on knees weakened by their cackling. 

Well, it was good to see that Johnny came by it honestly. 

Mrs MacTavish pulled herself together enough to pick up the tea tray and bring it over without spilling, the occasional giggle rattling through the teaset before she made it to the table. 

“Ma says-,” Mrs MacTavish cut herself off, planting a hand on the table as a new wave of laughter wracked her, Johnny was hiding his face behind a hand, but the deep red of his ears betrayed his blush, “Ma says, it’s guid tha’ Coinneach is the firs’ ae her grankids tae bring ‘ome a fella, bu’ did ye have tae be a fuckin’ sassenach!” 

The last of the translation is squeaked out in between laughs, but Ghost thinks he’s gotten the jist. Mrs Milne was hoping her grandchildren would bring home partners that were Scots. 

Add her to the tally of people Ghost had lived to disappoint. 

“None of your siblings have had partners before?” Ghost turns his head to address the question to Johnny, getting some vindictive pleasure from the offended squawks coming from the peanut gallery of siblings milling about in the kitchen.

“Nae, they’ve ‘ad partners, bu’ all ae 'em 'ave been too feart tae bring ‘em fer a visit,” Now Johnny is the one laughing, and the greedy beast that weaves through Ghost’s ribs squeezes tight, viscerally glad to have been the one to cause it. 

A succession of offended noises comes charging out of the kitchen, followed by the siblings in question. 

“Oi!” barks a young man with Johnny’s mousey brown hair, Mrs MacTavish’s straight nose, and hazel green eyes that Ghost doesn’t recognise, “Ah’m nae feart!” The rest of his defense is in Scots Gaelic and therefore lost to Ghost, but by the gasps and laughter it triggers, it’s nothing good. 

“Artair!” Mrs MacTavish scolds, and Ghost assigns the name to the face on the internal profiles he’s been habitually building in his head for Johnny’s family, “Donnae say tha’ we’ve company!”

“He cannae understan-” Artair complains,

“Tha’ donnae matter. Artair MacTavish, ye’ll watch y’ur tongue or so help me Jesus, Ah’ll give ye a doin’!” Mrs MacTavish asserts, hands on her hips. Nodding sharply when Artair obediently subsides, “Noo, did ye wan’ a cuppa, Ghost?” She presents the full tea service to Ghost.

“Please, call me Simon, Mrs MacTavish,” Ghost almost begs of the woman, being addressed by his callsign by such a motherly figure is disconcerting in ways that Ghost refuses to analyze. 

“Simon i’ tis,” Mrs MacTavish easily agrees, and starts identifying the nibbles she's brought over, “These ‘ere are egg an’ cress pieces, bridies, butteries, tablet, an’ shor’ bread. Have y’ur pick ae the lot.” 

“Mo ciallian, did ye-” 

“Nae, Da. Ah didnae pu’ onions in the bridies,” Mrs MacTavish supplied before her father could finish his question.

“Guid lass. Pass us up a few, noo. There's a guid lad,” Mr Milne chivvies Johnny into popping a few on a plate for him, Ghost was fascinated to see Johnny automatically make up and pass along a cup of coffee too. His family had never had that kind of camaraderie. A sudden wave of despair welled up to drown him as the unwelcome thought that he had no idea how his mother used to take her tea and there was no one left that he could ask struck him.

Johnny gently squeezed at the nape of his neck, bending down to put their heads in line, so that he could mutter to Ghost what exactly was in all the snacks Mrs MacTavish had just offered him. If Ghost leaned into the contact, buoyed by Johnny’s presence, that was between him and the devil, thank you very much. 

Having clocked the identity of the coffee pot, Ghost got himself a tea from the teapot. Opening dishes until he found the milk powder, he mindlessly filled a mug with coffee for Johnny and slid it over along with the milk bowl, setting the dish back amongst the teaset when Johnny had taken what he wanted. The teapot was ensconced in a nicely knitted plaid tea cosy, a brief glance up at Johnny netted him a nod, and he studied the cosy with more interest. 

So this was the MacTavish… hmm.

Another glance to Johnny, with a tip of his head in Mr Milne’s direction. Another distracted nod from Johnny, one of his sisters was ranting to him about an incompetent chef. 

So this was the Milne tartan. 

A woman burst through the backdoor, a small dog following at her heels. Another ecstatic cry went up and the family rushed to welcome her home. Johnny had told him that this was the first time all the MacTavish children would be under the same roof in years, Johnny’s mother had been planning it for months. 

“Kennie!” the latest addition cheered, breaking free of the scrum to tackle Johnny in a hug, “How’ve ye been! Still ten, ten, an’ two?” 

Johnny threw his head back in a laugh, then held up his hands to wiggle his ten fingers at her, “Aye, ah’ve still go’ all mah bits, Maggie.” 

Ghost watched the crease of his eyes, the flash of his teeth, the jump of his chest. Glutting himself on Johnny’s happiness. 

“So ye finally brough’ us y’ur man,” Maggie nodded in Ghost’s direction, a released Johnny coming to perch at Ghost’s shoulder again. Memorizing her face Ghost updated his profiles, this must be Maighread, the youngest. 

“Aye, doin’ Ma proud, Ah am,” Johnny retorted, “Pickin’ up the slack ae allae youse,” 

“Oi,” Maighread barked with a laugh, bending to pick up the dog that had been standing on its hindlegs to paw at her thighs, “A’ leas’ ah’ve brough’ Ma her firs’ grankid,” 

“Aye, right.” Johnny conceded, reaching forward to give the dog a few pats, “An’ how’s wee Calum been farin’?” 

“He’s grand! Vet said he’s great joints for nine,” Maighread enthused, then gave Calum a smooch on the head and pressed him into Johnny’s arms, “ ‘ere, be a lad an’ hold him while I say hullo to ar seann-phàrantan,” 

Watching Johnny juggle a small grey dog and a hot mug of coffee twisted a smile onto Ghost’s face. 

“Calum?” He let the question stand on its own and was gratified by Johnny’s response.

“Aye, he’s Maggie’s wee lad. A mini schnauzer. She go’ ‘im off a breeder, he didnae qualify fer a showdog, so noo ‘e’s the first MacTavish grankid. Ma’s go’ ‘im in the albums an’ every’hing.” Hearing Johnny’s accent thickening with every second that he spent amongst his fellow Scots was captivating, “Maggie trea’s ‘im like ‘e’s her own bairn.”

Ghost is not legally obligated to confirm or deny whether he did or did not open a mental profile for Calum the nine year old miniature schnauzer. 

“Why’re you holding him?” Ghost asked,

“Dae ye wan’ tae?” Johnny asked in return. That hadn’t been why he’d asked, but he wasn’t going to say no. 

Ghost nodded and scooted back from the table to give Johnny room to set the warm armful of dog on his lap, carefully bringing his arm around to make sure Calum didn’t accidentally fall. 

Calum the miniature schnauzer snuffled at his face, his shirt, his hands, then seemed perfectly content to take a seat on his lap, propping his forepaws up on the table, like he truly was part of the family. 

“Aye, tha’s fine,” Johnny supplied at Ghost's questioning look, “Donnae le’ ‘im jump up or no’hing, bu’ it’s fine as long as ye wipe the table after ‘e gets doon.”

Ghost was then perfectly content to sit, drinking his tea and petting the dog weighing down his legs. Normally the hustle and bustle of the many people talking and swarming about the rooms would quickly become too much for Ghost and he would need to take a break or else risk disassociating or having a panic attack, but oddly he was feeling fine. 

With Johnny standing sentinel at his shoulder, his hip pressed against Ghost’s side, and his arm arm idly draped across the back of his chair, Ghost was able to feel secure where he was. In spite of the commotion and chatter around him. 

Eventually the whole MacTavish brood was sat to the table, including Calum, who had abandoned Ghost to curl up on Maighread’s lap as soon as his owner had sat down. With cuppas and plates of nibbles close to hand, the air thrummed with idle chatter. Everyone updating and catching up, sharing the newest gossip about people that the table’s occupants would never meet. Mr Milne clearing his throat muted the room, though the silence wasn’t the oppressive tension that Ghost’s father had loved to employ, rather it was more of a curious waiting. 

“Riley, ‘ave ye met,” Mr Milne cast a wide gesture out to encompass the entire room, grunting like he’d expected as much when Ghost replied with a quick ‘No, Sir’, and then proceeding to efficiently go around the table, putting names to faces.

“Mah oldes’ daugh’er, Oighrig.”

“Oh, jus' call me Effie, dear,” Mrs MacTavish interjected,  

“Oighrig’s oldes’, Iseabail,” Mr Milne spoke on, unphased, 

“Izzie,” The woman sat to Johnny’s left offered,

“Ye know Coinneach o’course,” Mr Milne didn’t miss a beat and Ghost got the feeling that this was routine for him,

“Folk ‘roun ‘ere call me Kennie,” Johnny grinned up at him, his chair leg-to-leg with Ghost’s, letting Johnny easily press up against Ghost’s left arm,

“Then the twins, Donella-”

“Nella,” Chirps the woman directly across from Ghost

“an' Eilionoir,”

“Ellie,” Spoke the identical woman sat to Donella’s right, 

“Artair,” The young man sat to the right of Eilionoir offered only a nod, “our younges’, Maighread,” Mr Milne indicated the woman sat to his own right,

“Call me Maggie,” She offered with a bright smile, 

“An’ Maighread’s Calum,” Mr Milne rounded out, giving the dogs ears a ruffle.

Ghost gave the table a nod, “It’s good to meet you all, thank you for having me,”

His thanks are immediately waved away, eight separate voices speaking their denials of any thanks being necessary. Ghost holds his hands up in surrender and sits back to sip his tea 

“So Ellie, did ye tell tha’ man wit’ the gormless ring idea tae get tae fuck?” Maighread’s question forces an aggravated sigh out of Eilionoir, and with that the conversation moves on. 

Ghost is happy to have the attention off him, but is even happier to revel in the line of heat that comes from Johnny pressed tight against his side. Planting a hand on Johnny's leg, Ghost silently urges him impossibly closer, appeased by the way Johnny immediately obliges him. Scooting half off his chair he pushes down on Ghost’s shoulder and tugs him around by the waist so Ghost's slumped back against Johnny’s chest. Perfectly aligned for Johnny to drop his head down to rest his chin on Ghost’s shoulder, the soft scratch of the shaved sides of his warhawk rasping over Ghost’s ear and rubbing intoxicatingly against his cheek. Ghost squeezes at the leg he hadn’t released and revels in the tight squeeze Johnny returns to him.   

No one at the table gives their new seating arrangement a second glance and Ghost allows himself to wholly relax. Dropping his weight back onto Johnny without any fear of falling. 

There aren’t words for the feeling that fills up Ghost’s chest. The closest might be devotion. A gluttonous loyalty, content to share only because it gains him ever more of Johnny, others drawing out sides of him Ghost can’t. A burning obsession that banks and surges with every moment, every glance, every touch that Johnny allows him. 

What else is he meant to feel for a man that brings him home.

Thank You For Reading!

So the idea I set out with was "Soap takes ghost home to meet the family, ghost gets a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people, and realises he’s treating soap like some absurd mix of a touch/worry stone and a therapy dog. Thereby realising that soap makes him feel safe, and that wherever soap is, is home to him." I don't know how that became 3000 words, but here we are.

For anyone curious here are my notes on the MacTavish family:

Amhlaigh Milne -Grandad Fionna Milne - Grannie 69yo Oighrig MacTavish - Mother 53yo Iseabail(lesbian, the devil's advocate, she likes to look like the reasonable one and sometimes she is, trained as a professional chef, Job: restaurant owner) 34yo +1yr Coinneach John, 33yo +2yrs Eilionoir(Poly, is used to sharing Donella's partner, is not attracted to Donella, thoughtful and assessing, judgemental, realist leaning pessimist, job: makes jewelry) Donella(Poly, is used to sharing Eilionoir's partner, is not attracted to Eilionoir, more outspoken, open-minded, optimist, Job: professional horse trainer,) 31yo +3yrs Artair(sarcastic, always has a comment, acts like the baby of the family, Job: broker, he gets a budget from his client to find a specific/rare item for them, he bids in auctions and stuff), 28/yo +1yr Maighread(is the baby of the family, no one asks Maggie to do anything she doesnt want to, kind, warm, obliging, but not selfless or overly giving, Job: house sitter). 27/yo

Eilionoir and Donella live together and have four cats, all of which used to be stray cats. Their names are Sir Gawain, Darcy, Croissant, and Soot.

A photo of Calum to make it fair.

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[pepis-benis]

twilight (dawn breaking)

Main Street was wrecked: cars flipped over, streetlights halved, store windows blown out. A sliver of moon offered the only semblance of light, heightening the eerie silence that left the carnage devoid of air; tension thick as Emma navigated through the destruction, Regina at her heels.

“Are you sure?” she asked again, as softly as she could manage, trying to mask her discontent at the plan that had been agreed upon. Emma stopped in her tracks, turning back to look at Regina in the way she had been lately, the way that made Regina’s heart skip and stomach flip; devotion was the only word she could find to describe it, and it made her sick to think about for too long.

Somewhere between constantly defending the town or trying to return from other realms, their admittedly adversarial relationship had evolved. Emma had become her friend, the first one Regina had come by in a long time. Knowing Emma had been something Regina had no interest in, but now she couldn’t imagine going a single day without seeing the woman at least once. They still vollied insults at each other, but now it was with a smile or a roll of the eyes; Regina’s typical venom evaporated by the way Emma’s shoulders heaved and nose crinkled when she laughed. Late nights spent researching magic in her vault were no longer a Sisyphean task; Emma was there, eagerly trying to help, to lighten the mood. Her lunches were not solitary anymore; Emma showed up every day without fail, kicking her feet up onto the couch and launching into gossip she’d overheard at Granny’s while getting her grilled cheese and onion rings. Family movie nights became Regina's favorite night of the week, squeezed onto the couch next to Henry, Emma on his other side, watching a movie she didn’t care about with the two people she cared about the most. Emma always came, even when Regina didn’t know she needed her.

That’s why Regina wasn’t sure if the look Emma gave her was new, or she just hadn’t started noticing it until she realized she was in love with her. It was cruel, really, the way fate continued to screw Regina over. Emma was the mother of her child and her best friend. Even though they had put their rocky past aside, Regina couldn’t believe there was a reality in which Emma reciprocated. The small touches that took her breath away were just casual, the way friends brush hair behind an ear or put a hand on the other’s back as they walk. The way Emma sought Regina out was simply friendship, spending hours upon hours talking even though they had other things to do. Regina knew all of this and swallowed her emotions the best she could while constantly torturing herself by caving in to her desire to be around the blonde. But occasionally, she caught a glimpse of the look, and a damnable ember of hope would flare up, scorching her mind and setting her body ablaze. It terrified, sickened, and comforted her simultaneously. Devotion.

“No, but it’s the only idea we have,” the blonde admitted, offering a twitch of her lips that was almost a smile. Regina sighed, heart dropping because she knew it was the truth. Regina had argued endlessly that using Emma as bait was too dangerous, but the gargoyle that seemed to have taken up residence in the clock tower was producing too much collateral damage to waste any additional time researching a better way to destroy the damn thing. “Besides, we just have to make it to sunrise.”

“Well, I’m sure the town will enjoy having such a life-like statue of their Savior. Too bad you won’t get to see it,” Regina snipped, emotion bubbling up her throat, threatening to make itself known. She expected Emma to snap back, to make a joke about her abs already being rock hard. Instead, Emma stepped closer, arms wrapping around Regina. She attempted to hesitate, to wait just a second before collapsing into the embrace, but sandalwood and ocean flooded her senses as her chin rested on Emma’s shoulder; her ironclad self-control dissolved as a hand slid up her back. A shudder went through her, starting at the base of her spine, as Emma ran her hand in circles up the expanse of her back. Comfort wasn’t something Regina had received often, really never until Emma had crashed into her life and ruined everything. Now she had a family, people she cared for, even friends. Emma was always at her side, to lean on, to pull her back from crumbling. The space between Emma’s arms was familiar, her rising and falling chest calming, but it was bittersweet, even as Regina’s heart swelled and pulsed raced. It felt too much like a goodbye.

“I’ll be fine, Regina,” Emma murmured, warm breath against Regina’s ear causing the brunette’s heart to stutter.

“You don’t know that,” Regina argued defeatedly. Realistically, Emma was right; they had faced much bigger threats than a gargoyle, but that had been before. Before they had become friends, before they had lunch, before they called each other just to talk, before Emma had a toothbrush and pajamas at her house, before she knew Emma. Before Regina knew she’d never be the same without her.

“I know I will be,” came the reply, softer than before, nearly a whisper. Arms tightened around Regina, and she’d never wanted to hold onto a moment more in her entire life. “You’re here to save me when I do something stupid.”

A laugh broke from Regina, muffled by Emma’s hair and cut in half by the weak sob she couldn’t contain. “I’d rather you just not do anything stupid, though I understand it’s a tall order for you.”

“There you are,” Emma said, the smile on her face obvious, even if Regina couldn’t see it. “I was worried that you’d started to care about me or something.”

It was a light statement, one Emma frequently pulled out when Regina’s anxieties over the dangers they put themselves in started to boil over. Regina knew it was meant to pull her away from the despair of the situation, but she couldn’t take it as such this time, overcome with the implications of Emma’s words.

“Emma, I care about you so much,” Regina half-whispered, unable to admit how deeply she felt for the other woman any louder as the silence droned on around them. Emma’s hand stilled on her back. Regina’s mind began racing as her heart dropped, trying to come up with a way to negate the vulnerability she had displayed. But then she felt a sharp intake of breath and lips pressed to her ear. Emma swallowed, the sound causing Regina’s thoughts to come to a sudden halt as the blonde’s hands moved again: one arm holding her tightly, the other hand cradling the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. All thoughts flew from Regina, no longer necessary as Emma’s fingers moved across her scalp.

“I know,” reverberated across her emptied brain, punctuated by what could only be classified as a kiss to her temple, lips contacting bare skin. “I care about you so much, too.”

That was… friendly… right? Friends kissed their friends’ heads while embracing tenderly and declaring how deeply they feel for each other. Right?

The buzz of Emma’s cell phone broke the moment, vibrating between them. Emma let out a huff, almost a laugh but with none of the humor Regina associated with the blonde. She sighed, pressing a third kiss (it was definitely a kiss; friends kissed their friends, it’s fine) against Regina’s hair before stepping away from their embrace. The world suddenly expanded from their strange bubble, the gravity of their situation coming back into focus. Gargoyle, town in trouble, everyone in danger, Emma drawing the damn thing out because they couldn’t come up with a better plan than keep it busy until sunrise. Right. Emma pulled her phone from her coat pocket, checking the screen with a frown.

“Everyone’s in position. Sunrise is in 10 minutes,” Emma murmured, typing a response. Regina stood there dumbly, watching Emma in the way she always chastised herself for later. The tilt of her head, blonde waves flowing over the curve of her neck. The sparse freckles across her nose, the way she chewed on her bottom lip. Ocean eyes narrowed in absolute concentration, brows furrowed in annoyance. Emma was beautiful. Regina had always known that, but Emma’s features managed to cause her breath to catch in her throat nonetheless as twilight began to slowly fade around them. Emma pocketed her phone, breaking Regina’s stare seconds before she was caught.

[hiramaris]

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 4

Chapter Summary:

“Thank you.” She couldn’t stop smiling, not if she can’t help it. “It’s really sweet of you to do all this.” “No problem. I like it when you smile. Happiness looks good in you.”

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: Swearing, mentions of neglect

Y/n, I’m not really good at writing a note or apologizing in general. I just… feel bad about how our introduction to one another went downhill which I know is my fault. I know it's kind of rude, too to take someone's photo without their consent so, here you go. It's not the best photo but it's not, like, the worse either. And you look like you're in one with nature so the photographer in me couldn't help but to take the shot.  Anyway, if you have time away from your farm, you can drop by at 2 Willow Lane in the morning or whatever so I can make it up to you somehow. It’s cool if you don’t want to if you’re, like, really mad still.   P.S I don’t wake up until 8. Need my beauty sleep! - Haley <3

Spring 10

"Earlier, I was getting my mail."

Haley's chewing came to a halt as George began to speak. How odd. George wasn’t one to talk during meals. She knew this because there was never a time she missed mandatory weekly meals with the Mullners.

Nonetheless, she leaned a bit closer to hear him.

"I couldn't because of my...” he trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. “Anyway, Pam's kid tried to help me, and I ended up shouting at her." "My goodness, George!” Gran Evelyn gasped softly, placing a hand over her heart. “Why did you do that to poor Penny?" "I— she pushed my wheelchair and touched my mail.” He averted his gaze, looking everywhere but at the three pairs of eyes focused on him. If Haley didn’t know him any better, he almost looked embarrassed rather than angry. “I... I didn't like it when people act like I'm so nimble." Granny shook her head in sympathy. "Still, honey... She's just trying to help." "I know, I know," George grumbled, stabbing his fork into a fried mushroom. "The new farmer even pointed it out to me." He looked up, his eyes boring into his wife. "I apologized anyway. It was just a bad day, and I happened to project my anger onto her."

At the mention of the new farmer, Haley perked up. Not to sound obsessed or anything or like she has been counting at all, but it had been almost two days since she had caught a whiff of that familiar scent of dirt and freshly cut grass that you seemed to radiate even from a mile away. If Emily’s going to twist her arm behind her back, then maybe she’ll be able to get Haley to admit that she’s the one doing the avoiding right now.

The fact that it was Haley herself who wrote a note for you to come by to make up for her rude behavior, and then when you did drop by immediately a day after, Haley would make sure she had plenty of excuses to not meet you at the door and have Emily answer on her behalf. It’s been days and she’s running out of reasons to tell Emily why she couldn’t meet her visitor, and it wouldn’t take a genius to know who’s avoiding whom.

How could she not though?

How can someone recover from a situation like that which was probably scraped off from a romantic script of a movie because it’s too predictable, and cringe?

How can you look at someone ever again knowing you had seen that face in mere inches, breath tingling the cheeks and then act like you weren’t fazed by it all?

Most importantly, how do you act after that? Apparently, it didn’t seem like a problem for you as you were so busy hustling and bustling in and out of the farm and into the town. And if you weren't busy doing your chores, then you were always dragged down by Sam’s little brother to their little class arrangement with Penny and often found you hanging out with them by the big tree just outside Haley’s home which is why she knows not because she’s actively searching for you, duh.

Okay, maybe you did try to approach her, and Haley's acting like the two of you had a one-night stand by avoiding you like the plague. Could you blame her, though?

If it wasn't embarrassing enough, she even accused you of trying to buy her friendship with the daily gifts you gave her, accompanied by that annoyingly cheerful smile that seemed permanently sculpted on your face.

What am I even supposed to think in that situation? Even Alex, her best friend for years, wasn’t consistent with giving her gifts. The doofus often forgets special occasions, but that's a separate issue altogether.

To her, you’re really just an enigma.

And she can’t help but be drawn to the mysterious, goody-two-shoes persona you’re sporting.

She shook her head when she realized she’d been zoning out longer than she warranted. Evelyn is still giving George a piece of her mind for what he did. Haley’s so sure he’s regretting his decision by now opening this topic to his wife.

However, it was clear to Haley who was in the wrong here.

"If I may put in my two cents...?" she interjected, unable to hold back.

Alex raised a curious brow at her but remained silent. Granny, on the other hand, nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead, deary."

"I think George's reaction was valid," Haley began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Penny touched your wheelchair and mail without consent, regardless of her good intentions, George." And as an afterthought, she added, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice, "And the new farmer agreed with her? She should have known better."

"Look at you, Hay. Queen of consent!" Alex teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I love a girl who knows her boundaries."

Of course, the doofus would choose this time to speak.

"Haha," she rolled her eyes at a smirking Alex. He sure knows what buttons to push. "Asking consent is a bare minimum, you goof. You should practice it more often." "Hey!" "Hng," George grumbled inaudibly. "Little Miss Farmer did say that."

"Say what, dear?" "That Pam's kid should have asked me first.” George clarified. “But I should have handled it a little better, too. Can't say that she's wrong."

Despite his use of tone, he didn’t sound too upset. More like he’s in between of unable to believe that someone has the courage to stand up to him and tell him he’s wrong and still respect him as an elder, or being mad at this new farmer for sticking up her nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.

Either way, a George that isn’t grumpy is a win-win. So, they all will probably take it as it is.

"I'm glad you thought so too, dear." See? Even Granny thinks so, too. It’s better to have a plate full of her infamous cookies (and leek if you’re George) than to have a grumpy George on your plate. "Here, have some sauté leek."

George's face brightens up considerably. "I thought we don't have anymore from the pantry?"

"Miss Y/n dropped some earlier. Said to help cook your favorite dish. Isn’t she a sweetheart?”

"Hmm... I guess she's really something else then."

"I told you so, dear."

"Agree!" Alex raises a thumbs up. "She even knows how to play grid ball! She's new yet she's already better than the men here combined."

"That's lovely, deary. I hope she also influences you to read those books I gave you. I heard she's infatuated with books as Miss Penny does." "Yes, granny," Alex grumbled against his spoon.

Spring 12

She didn’t expect to see you so soon.

It’s not like she wants to avoid you forever. Ugh.

Why is this so difficult?

Her whole Spring routine is now in shambles because of you and your inability to dress nice, spreading your nasty farmer smell and being all happy smiles around children, elders, and women like some sort of Casanova and it’s infuriating!

“Hay?” Emily’s voice calling out from the kitchen stops her from her silent stewing. Haley was about to get up from her seat when Emily's voice continued, "did you clean the cushions like I told you yesterday?"

Her expression immediately turned sour, “I just cleaned them last week!”

The clanging from the kitchen stops, and the thudding of footsteps came closer. In an instant, Emily was standing in front of her with her spatula in hand.

“Yes, that’s last week. What about this week then?”

Haley rose to her feet, indignant. No freaking way she’s cleaning them again. “I always clean under the cushions and you damn well know it!" She jutted a perfectly manicured finger in Emily's direction. "It's YOUR turn this week!"

Emily scoffed at that. “You’re being childish, Haley. I do the vast majority of work in this house, and you know it.”

Haley rolled her eyes, feeling frustrated that Emily always played the responsible one. Just because she had a job outside the house, she acted like she was the only one doing anything. Haley does, too! She cooks, washes the dishes, does her own laundry, and cleans the house! But of course, Emily isn’t around enough to see all that because she has work and she’s busy thinking Haley’s lazy ass is just lounging in the house doing nothing all day!

“But that’s not the point!” Haley crossed her arms, a flash of irritation on her face. She wasn't going to let Emily get away with this. “We agreed to have schedules specifically for this and you’re not following it!”

Emily's eyes flickered with frustration. “Would it kill you to do them now? I had a rough shift yesterday.”

"You can't just pass off your responsibilities onto me every time you had a tough day at work. We made a schedule for a reason."

"I know, I know. But I just need a break today." Emily sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping.

The truth sets out then. She had a rough night and she passes the job onto Haley and made her feel guilty for it. Never mind that they agreed to have alternate schedules to do this specific job to avoid arguments yet here they are.

“Absolutely no—”

“Hello?”

Of fucking course, the farmer chooses that time to knock on their door.

Emily must have noticed the alarmed look written clearly on her face, making her smirk.

Oh, boy.

“Come in, Y/n/n! Haley’s up already.”

“Good mor—” You did a double take seeing a clearly upset Haley and an equally pissed Emily. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yes,” Haley admitted bluntly, crossing her arms. A flash of recognition passed her eyes when she thought of an idea. A good one that’s for sure. “Since you’re a hard worker and all, I bet you’ll understand my point of view here.”

“Haley,” Emily warned. Haley ignores her, deciding to shift her attention to the newcomer.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Emily sighs in exasperation, before offering you a kind smile. “I’m really sorry to involve you in this, Y/n/n. Haley,” she shot her a dirty look, “is complaining because I asked her to clean the cushions—”

“— which you should be doing because it’s your schedule, not mine yet you’re shifting the blame to me.” Haley finishes for her. She turns to you, further proving her point. “It’s important to mention that I already cleaned them last week.”

“Haley…”

“Shut it, Em. I want to hear what she has to say. What’s the verdict?”

Haley may seem cool outside but she’s actually hoping for you to side her on this one. She knew she was on the right side. If you were to side with Emily, then that’s like a double edge of crap in some way and Haley refuses to bleed in front of you two.

You were silent for a good second, chewing your lips, deep in thought. Your eyes flicked back and forth between the sisters.

“Haley,” you prompted, voice slow and measured. Haley already knew at this point whom you sided with. “Why not have this be your one weekly job?”

Not that it’s important but it stings.

Haley turns to retreat to her room, but you must have noticed the look of utter disappointment on her face. You grabbed Haley's hand in panic, halting her in her tracks. The blonde couldn't help but freeze at the sudden touch. "W-wait. I’m not siding on anyone," You quickly clarified, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Haley raised a skeptical eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Sure," she replied flatly.

“I just thought it would be the best course of action, so you don’t have to argue over it again. If you took this job, Emily won’t bother you again with cleaning the bathroom every two days. Isn’t that right, Em?”

“Yeah!” Emily agrees immediately. “Wait, what?”

Haley turns and finds you smiling down at her, clearly amused at Emily’s reaction. “doesn’t that sound more appealing?”

It does. She hates cleaning the bathroom with great passion, more so than cleaning under the cushions. If this also means it could possibly reduce Emily’s daily nagging, then your idea doesn’t seem the worst plan ever.

“Alright, you win.” Haley tried so hard to keep a straight face when she saw that stupid smile emerging again. “I guess this can be my job every week. Then there won’t be any reason to argue over it.”

Emily eyes her a bit at her sudden compliance with everything before turning back to you with an almost appreciative look. “Thanks, Y/n/n. That was a great solution.”

“Heh,” you must have noticed Haley’s eyes burning at your conjoined hands. With a timid chuckle, you retreated your hand back as you scratched your nape almost shyly. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” Emily suggested. “I’m almost finished cooking anyway.”

“It’s okay, thanks! But I don’t really want to impose.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure my sister won’t mind you joining us. Right, Hay?” Emily raises an equally blue eyebrow at her sister, who seemed to be in a daze.

“Your hands are rough and warm.”

“Huh?”

Your confusion snapped her out of her trance. She meets your eyes for a brief moment before glancing away. “I mean— what I meant to say was,” she sputtered pathetically. “Yeah, you can join us for breakfast.” She forces out a smile, hoping Yoba will answer her prayer one more time.

“Good!” Emily beamed. “Then I’ll get on with it. Haley, please keep our guest occupied.”

“You sure?” You asked one more time, probably noticing the grimace obviously etched on her face.

“Of course.”

“Hmm. Okay, then how about we clean these cushions now? So, you won’t have to clean them later?”

“Eh? It’s fine. I can do that later.”

“I insist. Two pairs of hands are better than one, y’know?”

“Ugh. Of course, you’ll say some dorky crap like that. Yoba, fine you can help.”

You can only laugh at her antics before moving to lift the couch.

Spring 14

She used to like her birthdays.

At least that’s what she likes to think.

What she allows herself to think.

And what she likes others to think.

It’s easier to blend into the stereotypes rather than oppose them and still get judged after.

Haley’s been called names already, all too many to even mention.

Spoiled.

Arrogant.

Self-centered and conceited.

If they are harsh enough, sometimes they’ll call her a dumb bitch.

As harsh as they are, Haley learned over the years to desensitize herself to them. Why allow yourself to be hurt by the same thing over and over again?

Her parents raised her and Emily in this big house back in Zuzu City. It was big, enormous even but empty. Can you call it home when no one cares enough to stick around? When all there ever was were big parties, and holidays spent with strangers she barely talked to, raised like the perfect little girl that she is, given with just as empty praises and gifts just as thoughtless.

Haley is practically the epitome of class and luxury. The living embodiment of perfection. Perfect face, perfect body, and oh-so-perfect stats. She’s smart (street smart or preferably photography smart if there’s one or whatever), rich and famous. Most importantly, she’s popular and has a reputation to protect.

Everything that Emily probably isn’t. Yet she’s the one happier.

She’s the one who moved on while Haley remains still where their parents left them.

How could they be gone though if, in the first place, they were never present? Where were they when Haley won her first photography contest? Did they know the photo was Emily sewing her first design? Haley doesn’t think so.

They are not abusive though. In terms of needs, they never wasted seconds to tend them in the most grandiose and luxurious ways as possible— the newest phone, latest camera, expensive make-up, and all available seasonal designer clothes. Good but not great either. Haley can say they are just plainly emotionally unavailable. They weren’t ready at all to be parents. They were too young when they had Emily.

Early twenties were not even that young, but it was a stage of exploring the world and what it could still possibly offer them. They can’t have all that with children in tow. So, when the opportunity arises, they took it without hesitations. After all, both their children are fully capable on their own.

But Haley needed someone. She needed a father. She needed her mother. Hell, she needed her sister. She needed someone warm, a nicer, wiser person. Someone to cry to, to talk to, to laugh to.

She calls out but the house is empty.

So, tell me. How can I be childish when I’m forced to grow up because everyone already is?

Haley hated them with passion. The crumpled piece of letter in her hand was obvious enough to what extent she does.

Another birthday card.

No hugs and kisses.

No cake.

No parents.

Some birthday this is.

She lets out a dry chuckle. It seems Emily had forgotten about her day. She had taken off at dawn's first light without even a second thought. While Alex? She doesn’t expect him to remember. At least not until later than noon. The idiot, really.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Haley didn’t have to look up to see who it was, but she did anyway. There you are with your blinding smile again. Beads of sweat can be seen forming on the side of your forehead just below a small cut that seemed to be healing well already. Your clothes are lightly butchered, a sign you were up and about on your farm yet the sight of you lifted her spirit a little. 

“Done with your chores?” she asked as you sat down next to her. Weirdly enough, the smell of dirt doesn't seem sore on the nose anymore, and Haley starts to wonder why.

It was a pleasantly warm Sunday. Usually, the kids will be playing here and Haley's glad she get to enjoy a quiet time in the park even for a little time.

You hummed. “Woke up extra early to finish them all.”

“Why? You have plans?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Naw, had to run some errands so I can give you this,” You turned to your rucksack that Haley failed to notice once again. It was bulging. Haley could only catch sight of the color brown before you successfully hid it behind your back. “Give me your hands.”

Haley narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to prank me, are you?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Is it a bug? You know I hate them.”

“Just do it, Hay.”

Surprised at the sudden usage of the nickname, Haley finally complied. She desperately hopes the sunlight would hide the tinge of redness starting to form on her cheeks.

Carefully, you placed a coconut on her open palms. It was plump and perfectly shaped as if it had been carefully chosen just for her. It was even wrapped poorly with a red ribbon that is a bit wrinkly and crinkled on the edges which must be because of how it was forcefully shoved in her bag. But Haley didn't find it in herself to mind. Not when you're looking at her like that as you hold your gift.

“Happy birthday, Haley,” you greeted warmly.

Haley blinked, her eyes started to water, her insides warming up in all ways possible. But she didn’t dare cry.

"I... I love coconuts." Haley looked up. Her own lips betrayed her as they curled up in the widest grin she ever had. “How did you know?”

“Well...” You scratched the back of your head, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Remember when you treated my cut the other day? You made me choose between a sunflower band-aid or a coconut one. So, I kinda assumed they were your favorites.”

“B-but how? You can’t possibly summon a coconut tree at will, or even had the time to go to Calico desert.”

You laughed at that. “It was pure luck, Hay. I just talked to the traveling merchant the other day and she said she had a couple of ones in stock. But she warned me I had to buy one early today or else she’ll run out just before noon.”

“Thank you.” She couldn’t stop smiling, not if she can’t help it. “It’s really sweet of you to do all this.”

“No problem. I like it when you smile. Happiness looks good in you.”

Happiness looks good on you, too.

****

Previous

Next

A/n: I hoped I did Haley's heart event justice because she deserved soooo much better. I refuse to believe her mean girl façade is because she's plain mean. My girl is better than that.

Anyway, sorry for the super late update. You know, the usual, due to school stuff and it just so happens senior year is the busiest year of all. Had to make sure I'm complying with all the needed requirements so I can graduate this year.

Thank you, guys, for your patience. Love y'all but I love my wife more <3

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (20) Do-Over

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 20)

Summary: Rosie comes home in the middle of the night, and realises that her parents have kept a horrible secret from her.

Twenty Years Old

I tried my best to be quiet when I locked myself in at three in the morning. The intended sleepover at Clare’s had ended abruptly, when her brother had stumbled in around midnight and broken two of his fingers when he tried to find his way in the dark. Being familiar with injuries of all kinds, I insisted on accompany him and a rather hysterical Clare to the closest A&E. That sorted, I decided to go home. Clare’s parents, who had attended a party, were summoned to the hospital as well, and my services weren’t needed anymore. 

When I heard muffled sounds from the living room, I was puzzled. I couldn’t quite discern if one of my parents was talking on the phone, or if they were talking to each other. And then I heard sobbing. Dad. I froze and all kinds of thoughts soared around in my mind.

Had anyone died? Nana? Pops or Granny? 

I didn’t even dare thinking about uncle Myc or Molly. Papa’s words stopped me from opening the door and inquire. His voice was thick with emotions, clearly crying himself.

“I’m sorry, John. I wish she’d never been born!”

The last sentence was delivered with passion and venom.

Who the hell was he talking about?

“It’s not your fault, my love,” Dad croaked. “You didn’t remember her. She knew what she was doing. Stop blaming yourself.”

“But you’re still suffering, and it’s been years,” Papa protested, the devastation pouring out of his voice.

“Only a vicious nightmare because of the events earlier today, Sherlock. She can’t harm us anymore now,” Dad soothed. “Let’s go back to bed.”

I exhaled shakily, only then realising I’d been holding my breath for too long. Slowly, I ascended to my room, knowing that sleep wouldn’t grace me with its presence tonight. Only one option, then.

Are you available? Need to talk. I’m home.

A car will pick you up in twenty minutes. UM

***

No sounds were coming from Dad and Papa’s bedroom when I snuck down the stairs twenty minutes later. A nondescript driver nodded at me when I slid into the back seat of one of my uncle’s cars. I was surprised to see that the car stopped outside uncle Myc’s house and not the Diogenes Club. I suddenly felt bad for interrupting his sleep.

“No need to apologise, Rosamund,” uncle Myc assured me before I’d even said a word. “We had just woken up. Gregory was called away to a crime scene.”

“Right. Perhaps for the best,” I said hesitantly, while I curled up in one of the comfortable armchairs.

“Your parents don’t know you’re here,” he stated.

“No. Hopefully I managed to sneak out soundlessly. I…overheard something when I came home. Unexpectedly. I was supposed to spend the night at Clare’s, but a trip to the A&E put a stop to that,” I sighed.

Uncle Myc cocked an eyebrow at the mentioning of the hospital.

“Clare’s brother. Broken fingers. She went hysterical, so I…”

“You took it upon yourself to accompany them. Being a comforting presence. Just like your father,” he summarised.

Despite my distress, I had to chuckle a bit. I wondered if he was aware of how much he reminded me of Papa in such moments. Probably, I concluded.

I gave him a clinical summary of what I’d heard back at 221B. He inhaled sharply and clenched the armrests so hard his knuckles whitened. His eyes closed and a pained expression manifested on his face. Years of practise paid off because when he opened his eyes again, he was his normal calm self. 

He told me about his and Papa’s sister Eurus and what she’d done as a child and that she’d been locked up at a place called Sherrinford. I was shocked beyond belief, and braced myself when uncle’s look got even more sombre, after he’d uttered the words: “and then she managed to escape.”

“Dad was trapped in that well, and Papa…”

I had a hard time grasping all this mind-blowing and horrific information.

“Yes,” uncle interrupted.

There was no need to tell that tale one more time.

“So, why now, do you think? Dad’s nightmare, I mean.”

“Ah, yes. I got a call from Sherrinford yesterday. Eurus fell into a coma. She never woke and died a few hours later. We all went there yesterday to confirm and bury her,” he told me and clenched his jaw tight.

She was his little sister, I thought, and tears started to stream down my cheeks.

“Don’t,” he said fiercely when I was about to rise and go over to hug him. 

“But, uncle Myc, she was your…”

“She was a predator, a manipulator, a cold-blooded killer. Eurus stopped being my baby sister long ago, Rosamund, and I’m glad she’s dead. It means that one of the heavier burdens I’ve been forced to bear, is finally lifted off my shoulders.”

“I still want to hug you,” I whispered. “We could both need one, I think.”

Uncle Myc stood and opened his arms. He held me tight, and I buried my nose in his chest and inhaled the familiar scent of his luxurious aftershave.

“Thank you for keeping us safe,” I murmured and rubbed his back.

“A privilege, my dear,” he assured me with a steady voice. “The guest room is ready for you. No need to go back to Baker Street at this hour.”

“How can anyone think of you as a heartless person, Mycroft Holmes?” I asked fondly and stroked his cheek.

His blush and muteness spoke volumes. He was just as sentimental as his younger brother.

(Canon do-over)

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

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[helloescapist]

The Hashiras in a Relationship| Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 4800?

Setting: Kyojuro Rengoku x gn!reader (there is one mention of kids in the future, but it's not implied how they will enter the family).

Content Warnings: none 🔥

Summary: headcanons Kyojuro Rengoku as a relationship partner, what it would entail. Dating to commitment.

[image is not mine]

To be loved by the Flame Hashirais to know comfort and warmth. To be loved by Kyojuro is falling nights, evening hours beneath stars that twinkle in the sky. The soft glow of cinder illuminating silhouettes, soft touches that at a moment’s notice deepen. Its security, an embrace beneath a blanket, two bodies coiled within another. It’s his breath against the back of your neck, snuggled close together. Savoring the tender notes of Japanese Red Cedar, tender as the embers cool. The fragrance of smoke, delicate and hazy. Dulling the senses as the warmth threatens to drift you off to sleep. The touches of smoke, destined to dance across your flesh. Lingering in the warmth, savoring one another, and perfuming your pores. To be loved by Kyojuro, is to stand next to a bonfire. Dance beneath the stars, warm and playful, to twirl in smoke, to bask in the crisp scent of leaves, and embrace comfort. The sweet caress of Orange Osmanthus. To know that regardless of where you may go, the scent of smolder shall remain, just as his love.

To be loved by Rengoku is to understand that you will need to embrace him. To accept the warmth of his smile, to respond to his laughter, to bask in the soul-piercing questions.

It’s to bare your deepest desires, and return his own. To welcome his confessions, to caress his tears, to cradle his insecurities.

To be loved by Rengoku is to be loved in every sense of the word. It’s to know the reliability of the rising sun; to know that regardless of the darkness that may claim the night, the dawn will always come. The warmth of embers upon your flesh, plush blankets, and the tender brush of his nose against yours.

It’s to know sacrifice, to know the honor of a Hashira, of a partner, and of a good man. Whether it is the haori off his back, relinquishing his bento to a hungry stranger, derailing a date to help a little granny carry a parcel home, to more extremes such as defending a child who impeded upon a nobleman’s honor, to staring death in the eye to protect mizunoto.

To be with Rengoku means accepting filling his empty tummy; it’s for the best his cooking is… questionable. It’s not he’s actually a bad cook, it’s more like he’s overzealous in the kitchen. Bare in mind the era, alongside his rank amongst the Demon Corps, Kyojuro likely wouldn’t have many opportunities to interact with the kitchen outside of amusement.

While he can follow the recipe well enough, I mean he is no stranger to scavenging the forests of Japan. Ultimately, his own excitement coupled with so many options—what is mitsuba? He’s confident he has seen [YN] use it in the kitchen. It MUST be tasty!

In it goes. He’s never been properly been given the opportunity to interact with a vast variety of spices and seasonings, and so, Rengoku is quick to deviate from the recipe.

To be with Rengoku means that, colds are in your future. His over generous heart very well will have him giving up his bed for a stranger while out on a mission, donating his haori for a passerby, so I recommend brushing up on caring for a patient.

Especially one as unintentionally stubborn as Kyojuro. It’s not that the Flame Hashira aspires to bring home a cold, or he means to be a burden while he’s ill. It’s rather that, it’s because he doesn’t want to burden you with his condition that he will attempt to hide it.

He will struggle against being cared for, insure you that he will manage. Please, don’t mind him. You will have to be firm, remind him that you WANT to care for him, and even resort to some under handed tactics to ensure he remains in bed.

I suggest reaching out to Shinobu for wellness supplements, vitamins, and rations for him to carry on his missions if he doesn’t give them away. You may have to resort to simply adding it to his daily routine, he certainly won’t reject the idea if you reassure that it’s because you care.

Despite his fuss, he loves that you’re taking care of him.

Regardless of what route you take in ensuring his physical wellbeing, the day will come. The day you pray will never cross your paths, when a kakushi delivers the news no one wishes to utter to a lover.

To be with the Flame Pillar is to accept that he will offer up his life for the sake of others. It is, after all his duty. Bestowed upon him by birth, gifted from the gods, and gently instilled with the pride of his mother, the day will come, and to be with Rengoku means to accept that one day, he will not return.

That your bed, will be empty, devoid of laughter. His curiosity and jovial smile will be absent from the kitchens, and your nights will be robbed of his enigmatic gaze.

This is the duty of his lover. One that pains him to impart on you, but one of which, he cannot avoid.

Just know, that every moment he dedicated to you were the happiest of his life.

[YN], I’m so sorry I won’t be home for dinner.

Reminiscing of the first bento you had ever made, the pride in which you had presented to him, the brightest smile touched to his face as he passes from this world.

Your first meeting, would be an everyday event. One where you went about your duties.

Whether it was to report for duty, under Oyakata-sama’s watchful gaze. The tilt of your head, eyes well trained to avert from another’s gaze. The polite bend of your back to even the kakushi that rushed through the halls, to the depth of your bow as you greeted superiors, well-practiced and mannered. The soft, humble smile tucked at your lips as he passed you by.

It could be on an average serving day, employed at a local tea house. Disbursing tea and treats with a dutiful bow, and gratitude upon purchase. Welcoming all those who passed the business. The deep bow from those that frequented your shop regardless of station. The way you had tended tend to an elderly man, who had struggled with his meal. His later years betraying his body, making him jumpy and unstable. How you had quickly preserved his honor without so much as a second thought. Willing to take the blame for offering him such cold food that it had sent a chill down his spine, both of you knowing that the meal before him was well prepared, all while maintaining the bend of your back.

Truthfully, the first day you would encounter one another, would be an ordinary day. It would be your average day. One born of duty, of survival, of tasks to be accomplished, and yet, the way you had conducted yourself.

Respectful, dutiful, kind. Not a day in which you would expect attraction to ember. The touch of cinders had ensnared him, drawn his attention.

The days to weeks to follow, you find yourself caught under his gaze. The touch of embers drawing your curious attention, embarrassed to be appraised. Bashfully averted, prioritizing manners whether of station or employment.

The warmth of crisp fall leaves, captivating the ambers of autumn, engrossed in the warmth of fiery red enough to draw the heat to your cheeks.

Unlike some of the Hashiras, Rengoku does not require as much time to pursue you. While he’s not as intentionally flirty as some of the Hashira, he is also not as hesitating either. I would say, he’s a fair middle ground.

He craves a deep connection, and a genuine partner. His approach to ensuring he has glimpsed at the truest version of you, would be similar to Shinobu.

The Flame Pillar will take some time to observe you. Nothing as in depth as the Insect Hashira’s approach no one will be as thorough as Kocho. It will be small drop-ins, interactions made in passing.

Never intending to snoop, but he could not resist the way his eyes followed you, the way you had pulled from an onigiri from your pocket, offering it to a small child who’s stomach knew of hunger. Could not ignore the gentle way you had consoled them.

Nor the time when he was out securing bentos for his journey, ensnared by the way you had placed yourself between an innocent bystander, and a fowl temper drunker.

He would have intercepted the interaction, but it was evident that the lecture you had elicited had more than sobered the man up, and shamed him more than any smack Kyojuro could have provided.

No, he really wouldn’t need that much time before he approached you with the intentions of taking you on a date, or seeing you more casually. He certainly has no qualms about making the first move.

Should you decide to reject him, it will be met with a sincere smile, and apology for disrupting your day. However, in the event you have elected to turn him down, you will have to make the first move if you’ve changed your mind.

Kyojuro is a tolerant man, and he will take you up on your offer despite his bruised ego, but he will not ask you a second time.

It’s not that he’s no longer interested, rather, your reject was clear—he is not one to force himself on you, or anyone else for that matter. He does not enjoy playing games.

That being said, his willingness to approach you first is a breath of fresh air amongst the Hashiras, not many of them will approach you first, or willingly announce their attraction in the way that the Flame Pillar, nor as openly.

The positive is that your relationship, is not expected to progress slowly. The first date will be set as soon as Rengoku has determined that he is in fact interested. This stage can move as quickly as his interactions with you.

If you happen to work together under the Demon Corps command, you can expect things develop fairly quickly.

However, if you are not a member of the slayers, then your opportunities are limited to the interludes between his missions.

To be clear, Rengoku is not averse to a more casual relationship. Although he approaches them with trepidation. While he is flirtacious intentionally or not, he has very little desire for a fleeting attraction.

He wants a spark, a flame that bursts upon impacts. The rumble of hearts, merged to one, singing of more than simple cravings of the flesh, but rather the desperate plead of souls pledged to one another.

The steady flames of true love, he is looking for a partner one in which will satisfy his desire for a deep connection, not a passing fling.

For this reason, Kyojuro is not likely to engage in a casual fling. That being said, while such fleeting interludes are rare, they do happen. If this is the arrangement you desire, your best bet is to be forthcoming with your expectations.

If you are insincere about your relationship expectations, you will likely be met with a critical reaction before the bond is without a doubt, severed.

To be loved by Rengoku is to engage in deep, intimate conversations. His desire to connect with you will not be satisfied without such interactions.

He wants craves to know the truest you. To delve into the depths of your soul, to know the warmth of your smile. He yearns to dance upon midnight with you, to play in the snow as though you were children, and to witness to your tears.

To comfort your fears, to quiet the depths of your mind, and the doubts that fester there. He desires nothing more than to understand you. To care for you, to know the you, you would only dare share with him. Him alone. Rengoku is more than willing to exert all of his time to unfolding the layers you bare.

Discussions of your future, and the possibilities that accompany them will be common place. While he savors the present, the warmth of your smile, how lovely your eyes are alight in the daylight, and your scent as delicate and earthy as sweet potatoes, the Flame Hashira’s heart is towards the future.

Even on your first tryst, Kyojuro’s core is considering the life ahead of you. Whether you will marry, or engage in a promise of souls. If you would want children, or rather, how many children would you be willing to care for.

How you might turn the Rengoku estate into your own, would the home smell of tea and yaki imo? Would you great him with daigaku imo on harder days? How do you prefer to express your affections? How would he achieve this? How would you ensure in all the years to come, that you will always know his affections are for you, and you alone?

the man is already considering names for the fur ball he would bring home for you.

Kabocha for a rabbit. Kaki for a dog. No, wait. [YN] may a cuter name like Mochi, or Chibi.

Prepare yourself, he will not hesitate to approach a heavy topic. He wants to know the profundity of your dreams. Savor the taste of your aspiration.

There is a chance you may be blindsided by his abrasive approach, rare is the man who would impede on these topics on the first date, but I suspect that the natural warmth and acceptance that Rengoku radiates, will have your lips moving in no time. Whether you are shy or not, I imagine that he will find a way to have you talking. He’s so good nature, that I doubt it would be a forced situation.

He may have offered too man alcoholic drinks, unaware of your low tolerance. The spew of confessions to follow enough to shame him for not cutting you off sooner—he should have been more thoughtful.

Or perhaps he noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you passed by an artwork, inquiring if you yourself, are a crafter. Your excitement to share your passions betraying your attempt to maintain intrigue. I

t’s okay, he finds the way you overshare the intricate details of your passion adorable even if he doesn’t understand the terminology.

For this reason, your first date may last far longer than you ever suspected.

Truthfully, you’ll notice fairly early on that Rengoku supports these pursuits. The Flame Hashira would not shy away from bringing back tokens of affection on his journeys.

If perhaps you were interested in seamstress work, he would bring back interesting hand-dyed patterns he had passed in the different regions. Eager to share them with you.

If perhaps you had a pension for reading, he would bring back any oddity transcript he had happened to pass along the journey home.

Ironically, while the Flame Pillar is able to elicit the smallest of details from you between honeyed words, and lending an ear, you will find that Rengoku will require some time to open up. Although this will not be as lengthy of a transgression as most of the other hashiras, it’s difficult for Kyojuro to share his vulnerabilities.

It will come, and such topics will be approached in time and naturally. Such as the first time you visit his home, and inquire of his mother, he will express with a distant gaze of her passing. You’ll know when the time to delve deeper will come, but until then, know that it’s not that he is attempting to conceal his past from you rather, he’s worried that it may change your opinion of him.

Dates with Kyojuro would be as diverse as the man himself. Some activities, will be energetic and playful. Implicative of childhood memories, challenging you to catching fireflies in the summer. Playfully daring you to a sparring match, maybe even sumo if the mood strikes him.

Other times, the dates will be intimate. As deep and connected as the conversations he elicits from you. Fingers interlocked, blazing glances. The touch of your footprints etched along the sand as you stroll through the beach with one another. Nights gazing upon the stars, laid along his haori. Snuggled on the veranda as the day wanes, worn out from the hiking expedition he had spirited you away on.

In time, you’ll discover that Rengoku considers your happiness as though it were his own. He will do anything he can to bring the smile to your face, to light up your world whether in small gestures, or grand it does not matter. Whatever crosses his mind, he’s like a puppy eager to please.

Determined to stay at your side when work allows him to do so. Whether this means simply basking in your company while you pursue your passion, or attempting to assist you as you do so if sewing is your joy, you will have to place him in charge of simply handing you needles, he is not adept with thread.

He is so very, eager to please. At times, you may even feel that you are not meeting his expectations. In his over enthusiasm, you may feel rather than the gentle nudge he intended, that you are being shoved down the pursuit. Taking it at an expedited pace than you may prefer.

As with any relationship, this can lead to resentment, or inadequacy between the two of you, and really, he never intended for you to feel negatively. He genuinely wants to support all of your desires and pursuits, so much so, his over eagerness inflicted harm. If you choose to leave it to fester, you are both likely to end up battered and bruised, but should you choose to approach it rather than shy away from it, Rengoku will immediately apologize.

Again, all he ever wanted to do was support you—tell him how you view support that way you desire. A hug after a long day? Will do. A cup of tea while you work, he’s got the pot boiling, hands off, oh gods he will dutifully fight remind himself.

Just be sure to verbally praise his efforts, while he does these acts out of the goodness of his being, he still loves to be praised appreciated.

In fact, Rengoku is so eager to please, that you will discover rather quickly that his over generosity will lead to exhaustion, illness, or burnout. Whichever may come first.

To love the Flame Hashira, is to accept that there will be times in which you will need to fast guard his health, mental, emotional, and physical.

As I’ve already mentioned—he will neglect to do so himself, so this will be a long-term source of frustration for the both of you. One which you will likely have to repeat for years to come. but, it’s why you love him.

Along with the herbal treatments Shinobu will gift you, you will also have to make sure that he has regular interactions with his friends, and reassure him that you will enjoy your night at home, or with your own friends while he does so. He is so prone to prioritizing you, that his other relationships often fall to the waste side.

The gentle reminder, and encouragement to pursue these connections will be greatly appreciated, and do his heart some good. He is after all, a social butterfly. With the verbal reassurance, he will greatly appreciate your attention to his needs.

Don’t worry, he’ll behave regardless of where Tengen’s antics lead him.

When he falls, he falls hard. Like a meteor crashing to earth, embedding the earth’s surface. Permanently carved across the exterior, Rengoku is a goner.

For all that he is willing to give to you, every ounce of his time, his energy, his affections, his very heart, Kyojuro expects the same commitment from you as well.

In love, Rengoku is highly in tune with his partner. He’s able to sense the shifting of moods, of growing needs. He is the ultimate cheerleader, and will always be your side.

Rengoku, as you already know is a family man, and friends are at the center of his universe. Regardless of how dedicated he is to these relationships; he will always ensure that he has time to spend with you.

Just be sure to remind him to engage with others from time to time, he is at risk of getting lost in you. don’t let him lose himself in you.

As a partner, Kyojuro is understanding, and when it comes to understanding your needs, he is quick to adapt. Rather, he has a natural ability to care for those around him, and read the room. Should you have an off day from time to time, he is quick to overlook it as he retains the best version of yourself that he has grown to know.

Eager to please, quick to assist you whether it’s washing dishes, chopping vegetables, hanging the laundry, or even more intensive tasks such as hauling water from the mountains. He thrives with a happy and supportive partner, and as long as he is cared for in the same regards. He will not blink regardless of the requests you make of him.

Rather, one of the most difficult obstacles you are likely to encounter is the Flame Hashira’s inability to relinquish his burdens. While he understands that any part of a healthy relationship is carrying one another’s loads, he struggles with the concept of burdening you with his own.

Far too willing to accept yours as his own, but stubborn to accept your aide. Nor confess his desires for you to offer. Yet, the moment you break through his façade, he will crumble.

Tears that roll through a smile, joyful to have been accepted. To be supported. The child who had to accept the loss of his mother, to care for a small child well beyond his age, and capabilities. The very child who had met nothing but disapproval and rejection, embraced in your support.

Hold him.

You are a source of true joy, and meaning in his life.

It goes without much saying that Rengoku is a very, very protective lover. Alongside his natural desire to shield others, you have garnished a special place in his heart, and he will rise to any threat that pursues you.

A demon, he will stand between you and death. If someone has infringed upon your honor, he will safe guard your reputation without a moment’s notice. Should the situation require it, blows will be traded. He will always, protect you.

Where a lot of the other Hashiras have their difficulties with communication, you will not find this is the case for Rengoku. In fact, it’s rather the opposite.

In the event you yourself struggle with communication; he is quick to adapt. He’s open, and engaging, and if you find your struggling, don’t worry yourself too much. Kyojuro will adapt to suit your communication needs. If you are the type to need space, he’s more than okay with this.

Openly express that you need a moment he still needs the reassurance that your love is his own, and he will happily give you the time you need. If you are a fast talker, well, he is more than capable of matching your speed.

Truly, the only difficulty that you will meet in conveying yourself to one another, is in the event you are jump with loud noises. Remember, he doesn’t necessarily for his voice to boom. It’s his enthusiasm, but with his damaged ear drum, you will find that he’s naturally… loud.

After succumbing to hearing damage with his encounter with the flute demon, he struggles to hear soft voices. Patience, and adaptive communication, you’ll have this sorted out in no time—and your relationship will be better for it.

The first time you utilize this communication (signing), he will gush. To do something such as learn another language for him. he’s melting.

The embrace he will trap you in upon realization of your fingers moving, the words falling between your gestures. It’s going to hurt, snap your spine, and force the air from your lungs, hurt. Mitsuri warned you. He doesn’t mean for it to; he’s just so happy.

The playful, bashful laugh as he runs his fingers through his hair upon realizing how he openly grasped you in public.

While the swordsman is communicative, there will also be points in your relationship where you will notice he has a slight passive aggressive side to him.

His intentions are never to hurt you, but the reality is that Rengoku was not given a lot of opportunities to appropriately navigate tension in relationships. In these moments, you will have to re-center yourself.

Remember your boundaries, and your worth, remember that you love him. Compassion will go a long way with him, and give him space to work through what little thing has set this agitation into play. He really is sorry. He didn’t intend for his jealousy to ebb him that way, and what was such a little thing—he told himself that your attention to the grocer was nothing to concern himself with, and yet, that small piece of him nagged.

Succumbed to his own low self-esteem, and thought, perhaps, maybe you were interested.

While the Flame Hashira is not one to back down from a physical challenge he loves the opportunity to prove his growth as a swordsman, Kyojuro is quick to avoid confrontation in his relationships.

He favors harmony between the two of you, and a majority of the time, will avoid it at all costs. You mean so much to him, he really doesn’t want to fight. He just wants to snuggle.

Yet, disagreements are a natural part of any relationship, and when they rear their ugly heads, he is willing to do just about anything to disperse them as fast as he can. His haste actually puts even the smallest of disagreements at risk of maturing, and infecting, left unresolved over time.

However, as long as he is given the appropriate space, and by which, I mean, you reassure him that he is as valued to you as you are to him, he will rise to the challenge, and face the spat head on.

In reality, Rengoku is one of the Hashira at risk of jealousy. There may be moments where jealousy and low self-esteem fuel tension between the two of you.  

While at times he appears to be the most confident member of the Demon Slayers Corps, the reality is that from time to time, distant whispers of his life will surface. Hushed reminders of doubt, of worthlessness. In these times, he is sensitive to things around him.

Such as another person openly attempting to engage you in flirting. He is mature enough to know that it is not your fault, nor does he intend to burden you with his past but it’s still a part of him.

It’s rare, far and few between that these moments surface, but there will be times in which they are dredged from the depths. At these times, jealousy may follow.

Because of this, it’s important to note that Kyojuro is a loyal partner, and as long as his self-esteem is intended to appropriately, you will find no more a devote partner. Through thick and thin, he will always stand at your side, but should his needs be ignored, he is not validated, and trust break down in the relationship...

I would say that he is at risk of straying outside of your relationship parameters. and he is horribly ashamed for the betrayal

One thing that you will have to understand in moving forward in a relationship with the Flame Hashira, is that Kyojuro places a large importance of continuing on his blood line, and duties.

While it’s true that he is accepting of Senjuro’s rejection of the responsibilities of being a demon slayer, he still feels a source of pride that his brother lives on. Because of this, I believe that Rengoku would want a few children of his own—not that he would ever force them to undertake his position.

Rather, I suspect much like he embraced Senjuro’s break from tradition, he would support the childrens deviation. If in the event one of them did decide to accept  the obligation, I don’t feel that Rengoku would draw special attention to this from the other children.

I suspect that he would boast about ALL of his children’s accomplishments regardless if it were slaying a difficult demon, tending to children of their own, or embarking on their studies. Really, he would just want them to pursue their dreams regardless of what route they may follow, but this does mean, children are in your future.

For Kyojuro, he thrives on words of affirmation. To be openly praised, shamelessly bragged on whether it’s his attention to details, his dutiful physical tasks, or even adoration for him having picked up dinner, he thrives on this attention. It’s the fastest way to ensure that he feels important in your relationship, and treasured.

For the Flame breather, words of affirmation come just as easily as breathing. In fact, he’s quick to disburse his praise, and it takes absolutely no effort on his part.

He will shower you in applaud. Shamelessly declare you the best partner of all, regardless of your surroundings. If this is your love language, you are in luck because he will satisfy every flattery you could ever hope for.

In fact, at times he may go overboard and risk it falling on meaningless applause.

If in the event that it’s not, it’s okay that you’re shy from the private eye. He’ll learn to whisper it in private moments rather than so openly, but it will take some adjusting.

In terms of gift giving, I also see this being a strong suit of his. He has no aversions to physical intimacy, nor shies away from displaying it in public. I suspect that he would be more than content to lay his head in your lap, stare lovingly into your eyes, brush the strands of hair that fall before your eyes behind your ears.

The fire of his desire is not one to stray, but I imagine that he would comfortably the role of physical affections. Fingers interlocked during strolls, and allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder when you are tired.

Although his over enthusiasm for your touch may result in a few moments turning heated. are you really mad though?

The Flame Hashira would also be fairly forth taking with gift giving; his travels for missions have him sprouted all throughout the region, and his overly thoughtfulness will result in him bringing you a wide variety of tokens of affections.

This little kappa reminded him of how you loved to soak in the bath, this flower it’s dead, but it was as beautiful as you in its prime, this bento has your favorite snack in it—you get it.

Where ever he travels, you are always on his mind, and as long as you express your appreciation, he will never hesitate to bring home present after present, after offering of devotion.

He’s giving, overly so. Prepare yourself.

Acts of service is without a doubt, going to be met. As it’s already been expressed, whatever you ask of him, he will more than deliver.

Asked him to bring water down from the mountains? Oh, he did, he also utilized it to wash the laundry, hang it to dry, and utilized the leftover to prepare a warm bath for you.

He is literally a man of service.

Ultimately, I believe the area in which Rengoku would struggle to express his affections is actually in the quality time together department.

It’s not that he doesn’t savor moments with you, he adores the opportunity to have you at his side. However, the Flame Hashira’s determination to serve, leads him to feel that any, ANY small moment can result in restlessness.

He should be doing something. He should fold laundry. He should run you through self-defense drills to ensure you are safe while he is away, he should—his mind struggles to rest. He really and truly, is eager to serve.

SO much so that if your needs rely on quality time spent together, you will have to quiet the doubt of his mind. Reassure him that the extra time in bed together in the late morning, is all you need to be happy.

The reality is, to be in love with Rengoku is to know support. It’s to know devotion, and unwavering loyalty. To have someone always in your corner, always on your side regardless if you are in fact, wrong. It’s to know dedication, and warm smiles. To savor sweet words, as sincere as the heart they blaze from. It’s to know that despite the distances you may face, you are always on his mind. In his heart. To be loved by the Fire Hashira is to know the passion of the heart, of devotion, of the flesh. It’s to know that you are everything to him, your bond as close as destiny itself. To be loved by Kyojuro is to know love, the depths of a flame so smoldered and that the ardor will never be snubbed out. It is to be truly embraced as you are for who you are. A romance secured by soft touches, endless praise, unwavering support in pursuits of joy. To know that you are his joy. To know that he will love you.

Even in death.

In this life.

And the next

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. Tw noncon Can someone write a fic of wen Ning getting gangraped by Jin disciples in front of wen qing as revenge for what the other wens did?

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2. Can you recommend any fics with Wen Ning as a POV character?

In My Defence, I Have None (For Never Leaving Well Enough Alone) by SemiLocalCryptid (T, 73k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It, Established Relationship, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, POV NHS, but only for the first chapter, POV Alternating, between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi for the rest, WWX may have no sense of self preservation but he does have a husband, No one touches LWJ's husband, NHS has no more fucks to give and will save his brother just watch him, WN is very confused about needing to breathe again, but is ultimately happy about it, BAMF WN, WN needs a hug, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, WQ is a queen and everyone should fear her, Fluff, Inventor WWX, Gratuitous amounts of Wangxian fluff, WIP) wen ning is a pov character here

The Moon Reflected Upon Two Springs by Rubberduckieassassin (M, 2k, Post-Canon, Fierce Corpse wn, WN-centric, Farmer WN, WN Needs a Hug, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Good Kid LSZ, Good Kid LJY, Wen Remnants Mentioned, Burial Mounds Settlement Days Mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Five Stages of Grief, Melancholy, Building A Home, Family Feels, W>N is learning how to 'live' again)

waiting (when the colors come) by frostferox (G, 2k, WN/WWX/LWJ, Modern, realizing polyam might be an option, Domesticity, Friendship)

Granny Knows Best by The_Snarkivist (T, 5k, OYZZ/WN, JL/LSZ, Getting Together, Fluff, Accidental Elderly Acquisition, WN Centric, Let Wen Ning Be Happy Agenda, Happy Ending, fast burn, Granny does know best, POV WN, Post-Canon)

Fierce Friends by TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds (G, 32k, NMJ & WN; SL & WN, NMJ & SL & WN, NMJ/LXC, SL/XXC, JC/WN, Friendship, Give Wēn Níng Friends, Cinnamon Roll WN, Rabbits, NMJ’s body does NOT cooperate, WN Centric, Everyone loves WN, Dysfunctional Family, Found Family, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Graphic Depictions of Pining, heart eyes motherfucker, WIP) it switches though

This Time With Confidence. by INSPIRETOWRITE (T, 129k, LWJ/WWX/WN, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Time Travel Fix-It, Action/Adventure, Polyamory, Developing Relationship, LWJ has feelings, Cute, Blood and Gore, Cultivation Sect Politics, Demonic Cultivation, Pining, WN-centric, Rabbits, POV Multiple, Action, War, Battle, Eventual Happy Ending, Developing Friendships, WN is a cinnamon roll, Bad-ass WN, WWX has feelings, They don't know they have the same feeling until later, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, POV WN, Slow Burn, WIP)

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3. Hello! Could I ask, for the next ITMF for fics where wwx experiences qi deviation of some kind? Thank you very much!

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics)

Confrontation by LtLJ (G, 21k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, discussion of a canon suicide attempt, breaks from canon during the timeskip, BAMF WWX, BAMF Everybody, Canon-Typical Violence, JC &WWX Reconciliation, BAMF NHS, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Complicated Relationships, canon-typical curses, Canon-Typical Behavior) It is part 4 of a series so it makes more sense to start with the first one which is Brotherhood

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4. CW: Trauma

Good day! I saw "Life as a house" by Terri Botta from the previous ITMF. I gave it a shot and read it, it is well written and I enjoyed the process of how they recover from their trauma, the reconciliation, and everything. For the next ITMF, do you guys know any fic that is close to this fic? Similar in terms of their journey to heal from their past/trauma, from seeing psychiatrist, discussing mental health, or about therapy. @httpskaixx

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist, Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Past Suicide of a Parent, References to Depression, Anxiety, Therapy, References to Anti-Depressant Medications, Escort Service, Loneliness, Everybody’s Abandonment Issues, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Moving In Together, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Hopeful Ending, Recovery, References to Escorting/Sex Work but No Actual Escorting/Sex Work)

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5. Want recommendations for slow burn angsty stories of wangxian

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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6. Hi! ITMF wangxian cuddle porn or just lwj being so comforting for wwx and vice versa. It would be amazing if that was incorporated in longer fics though anything would be welcomed. Something for reference is “A Cyborg's Three Laws” by FairyGardenCorgis and “try a little tenderness” by ilip13. Thank you so much!

Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Former JZ/WWX, Minor NieLan, Minor XuanLi, No Powers, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cuter story than the summary makes it out to be, Feel-good) modern!AU cuddly lwx cheering post-breakup wwx

The Art of Communication by mrcformoso (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Meet-Cute, Engineering Student WWX, Music Student LWJ, Swimmer WWX, Martial Artist LWJ, POV Outsider, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Communication Issues, But Wanxian Makes it Work, LWJ has limited words, WWX has too many words, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Love Languages, Requited Love) ModernAU! Soft Wangxian where they make their communication issues work

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7. Hello again! I want to ask for a itmf about powerhouse wwx, inspired from this post

More detailed: The Scene with the water ghouls, wwx proposes to jump in the water (bc hes just that strong) in combination with lwjs thoughts and competency kink? Please? I hope that was understandable, English isn‘t my first language, sorry. @desperation-is-my-middle-name

Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 108k, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war, WIP)

My chain hits my chest/When I’m bangin’ on the radio by x_los (T, 2k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, case fic, competence kink, YLLZ WWX)

Howling by MimiSpearmint (E, 40k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, Modern with Magic, Mortal Instruments Fusion, Horror, Eldritch, Domestic Fluff, Single Parent WWX, Witchcraft, Northern Ireland, fluffy but I cannot emphasise how much horror there will be, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Case Fic, Getting Together, shifter lwj, yllz wwx, Intercrural Sex, Hand Jobs, Angst with a Happy Ending, playing fast and loose with canon, off-screen beloved character death, Switch wangxian, a bit of a degradation kink, anti-STI sex talismans, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cameos by various characters)

hills and rivers by LtLJ (T, 56k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, the family that hunts demons together stays together, and doesn’t murder each other, Case Fic, BAMF WWX, Mojo’s post)

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8. itmf some good ol' damsel in distress lwj @jawla-mukhi

silk threads and precious metal by Sevidri (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Whump, Blood and Injury, WWX' Canonical Vengeful Streak, LWJ Makes A Beautiful Damsel in Distress, Non-Consensual Ribbon Touching, Protective wwx, Hurt LWJ)

Vagabond by xantissa (E, 65k, wangxian, Slow Burn, Mystery, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Frottage, Case Fic, murders, Supernatural, Angst, Fluff, those two are so in love it hurts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, badass LXC, Canon-Typical Violence, topLWJ, Bottom LWJ)

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9. Itmf time travel fics where Wei Wuxian is caught in a time loop reliving the Sunshot Campaign and ensuing Burial Mounds years over and over until he can save everyone? Thank you!

Karma by English is my death (Lena013) (T, 2k, JGY/XY/WWX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, XY/XXC, Time Loop, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Misfortune Fellows, JGY & WWX Friendship, JGY & XY Friendship, WWX & XY Friendship, (but they all hate each other), White-Haired WWX, But temporarily, XY is a Brat, XY Is A Little Shit, POV JGY, YLLZ WWX, Drama, Drabble, Humor, Immortal WWX, Immortal XY, Immortal JGY, These are cut pieces from their eternity together, By this point they had become insane)

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10. Hi! I was hoping you could help me bc I was on Twitter & saw someone else mention that they wanted to read it but I was hoping that you had any fics where YLLZ!WWX time travels to the future? (Possibly ends up shtupping himself along the way.) I can’t remember if there are any besides ‘a tide between two seas’ but I know that’s more multi-verse travel! @arisuamichan

不忘 | Don’t Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Devotion, Reunions, Feelings, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, Names, References to Canon, Modern Era, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

忘不了你的爱 (can’t forget your love) by PorcupineGirl (G, 25k, WangXian, Time Travel, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators AU, Canon Divergence, Time Traveler WWX, discussion of canonical character deaths, a whole lot of handwaving, conveniently localized fires, Discussion of Canonical Suicide Attempt, mostly happy but slightly bittersweet ending) first fic in a series

so when you go wherever it is you will go, take the moon with you by comforting_monachopsis (T, 115k, WWX & WWX, WWX & WN, WWX & WQ, wangxian, JYL & WWX & JC, past WWX/SS, past WWX/XY, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Canon Divergence, Literary References & Allusions, Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Private Investigators, Private Investigator WWX, Professor LWJ, Trauma, Serial Killers, Strangers to Lovers, BAMF WWX, Hurt WWX, WWX Needs Therapy, Modern Era, WIP)

atlas in his sleepin’ by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Angst with a happy ending)

drop me down to the dream below by AroPeterWam (E, 44k, wangxian, WWX & XY, Time Travel, Comfort/Angst, basically there is reincarnation and because of that WWX lives in both timelines, changes had to be made to fit this story, JC comes to terms with his emotions, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, POV Alternating, ooc because different lives, fluff, Canon Divergence, Memory Related, explicit for like that one scene, Adopted WWX, sick WWX, Dimension Travel, Noncultivator WWX, JC & WWX Reconciliation, XY Deserves Better, time swap, WIP)

Horseshoes and Hand Grenades by Phantomhill (T, WWX & Juniors, JL/LJY, OYZZ/A-QIng, wangxian, College/University AU, Modern, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Original Character(s), Background Relationships, Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, the juniors are doing their best, NHS has plans, not a reincarnation fic, JYL lives, JZX lives, WIP)

worm moon by serein (E, 103k, JC/WWX/LWJ, Post-Canon, Mystery, Angst, Humor, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Identity Issues, Demonic Cultivation, eventual polyamory, Cults, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied past cannibalism, Switching, Canon-Typical Violence, Doppelganger, POV Alternating, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, Reverse Golden Core Reveal, mild horror elements)

So Call Me a Pessimist, but I Don’t Believe in It by Anonymous (Not Rated, 127k, WIP, WangXian, Food Issues, Family Feels, WWX is a music teacher, WN and WWX are Best Friends from the future, They use memes to talk covertly, Transmigrator WWX, transmigration au, Slow Burn) This is the opposite but I think OP will LOVE it

refrain; a musical phrase repeating in a song or instrumental piece Series by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T/G, 51k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Memory Loss, Canon-typical dismemberment, Post-Series, but also mid-series ya feel, Changing Tenses, Protective LWJ, Everybody Lives, Confused WWX, Crack Treated Seriously) This is… also the opposite? Sorta? In which everyone from the future gets pulled back except for him

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11. itmf hostage!LWJ, with WWX going berserk, kinda

silk threads and precious metal by Sevidri (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Whump, Blood and Injury, WWX' Canonical Vengeful Streak, LWJ Makes A Beautiful Damsel in Distress, Non-Consensual Ribbon Touching, Protective wwx, Hurt LWJ) (link in #8)

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire)

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12. I'm holding out serious hope for some pride and prejudice au wangxian. I don't care about setting or time period, I just want that delicious Lizzy/Darcy dynamic with LWJ being a classist dick to WWX and instead of just trying harder and harder WWX's like fuck that asshole and then then oh no, LWJ falls in love and WWX wants none of it. (I mean, I'd love a subplot where LWJ tries to talk JZX out of marrying JYL, too, but not strictly necessary). Any pics out there remotely like this? @moku-youbi

In Wanting by thaliagrayce (T, 39k, wangxian, Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by Pride and Prejudice, Miscommunication, No Sunshot Campaign, we are ignoring all of the canon political drama to substitute our own, non-graphic depictions of torture, cw: offscreen XY)

Clans and Cultivation by ChalionKat (G, 81k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, SongXiao, Regency, Pride and Prejudice Fusion)

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13. Hi! 🤗 It's me, again. 😅

For the next ITMF, lately I'm looking for fics where WWX gets pregnant of LWJ. I'd prefer not abo fics, but if there is some good, it's ok too. I love Canon Divergence fics, Cloud Recesses arc, only the bad people dies and happy endings.

Thank you so much! ❤️😊 @wangxiansgirl

Unexpected Lullaby by SilverStark (T, 30k, WangXian, Minor Original Character(s), Unplanned Pregnancy, Post-Canon, Mpreg, Non-ABO, Fluff, Established Relationship, Reconciliation, Family, Dual Cultivation Baby)

🧡 Many Lan babies Series by LuckyMoonly (Varied, 396k, WIP, WangXian, Story collection, Mpreg, Pregnant WWX only, Family Fluff, Found Family, Kid fics)

Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal)

Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, wangxian, canon divergence, communication, established relationship, sunshot campaign, mpreg, canon typical violence, WWX has new golden core, canonical character death, happy ending, fix-it of sorts)

🧡 Like Rabbits by Setari (T, 41k, WangXian, Kid fic, Canon rewrite, Mpreg, Miscarriage scare, Crack treated seriously, Hopeful ending)

And they can always check the pregnancy comps! A/B/O is always tagged, so it can be avoided!

🧡 Accidents Will Happen by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 45k WangXian, Post Canon, Mpreg, Fluff, Light angst) I'm absolutely obsessed with

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14. Hello! 👋 I just find this blog and I saw that we can ask fics. This is for In the mood for.

My favorites fics are the ones where Wwx comes back in time and fix everything, get together with Lwj soon and saves everyone. I love longer fics. Thanks ☺️

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15. For itmf I was wondering if anyone had some recs for ChengXian mpreg with WWX as the carrier. @dragonfairies

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16. Hello! For my ITMF I'm looking for a fic where wwx flinches/gets scared from the Zidian (either held my jc or yzy) and people find out about his ptsd with the whip? Just want some justice and comfort for our bb boi @mrcformoso

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 686k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) So none that I can think of exactly, but this one has some tasty, tasty justice

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17. Hey, Im looking to read a fic or 2 where WWX wasnt in control of himself during his “k ll everyone faze” after the Wens are k lled and/or when his eyes turn red. So I guess like a burial mounds possession type deal? And if WWX is like seeing it all from inside, watching as all this tragedy unfolds at what he interprets as his own hand, for spice. May I have a fic rec or as many as you can find, please? @0call-me-rin0

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[mmoodd-jobutupaki]

*takes a deep breath* AHHHHHDKAJFKSJA

I JUST WATCHED BOY AND THE HERON AND I LOVE IT SM AND IT'S SO GOOD.

So obvs, it's studio ghibli, it's gna be some of the prettiest stuff you've ever seen. So many scenery frames made me think "I'm gna scour the internet for them and repaint them as art practice. It resembles smudgy oil paintings rather than studio ghibli's gouache style (see spirited away, Totoro) but it's honestly beautiful nonetheless, and seeing it on the big screen made me feel like I was in the movie. There's even a stone passage that looks like the one from Coraline. The animation works so smoothly to make the film an overall wonderful immersive experience.

The character design was so good. You have your classic ghibli, countryside, apron wearing girl. Your boy with spiky hair. And probably the best addition of a butch seafarer, Kiriko, dubbed by Florence Pugh (oh my goodness I am too gay for this). The grannies were so inexplicably lovely and visually distinct I just want a hug from them. The wizard (Mark Hamill having this otherworldly yet grounded design and amazing hair. The heron was oddly grotesque without being scary (this is such a gift only japanese have.) and his various designs fluctuate along with the story. I was surprisingly intrigued by the fact that even in crane form, he had human teeth. And ofc THE WARAWARA.

GOSH THEY ARE ADORABLE I LOVE THESE DAMN TAPIOCA PEARL LOOKING THINGS THEY HAD ME SQUEALING IN THE THEATRE EITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE.

The score is beautiful and I dare say that it's on par, maybe even better than the Spiderverse score (and that's REALLY HIGH praise coming from me, I love the Spiderverse score to the point where it's on my Spotify wrapped.) I loved how the use of motifs, especially in relation to magic in the film. And definitely need to go give it more listens. 11/10 would recommend listening to it even outside of the film, it's just that great, give it a Grammy or smth.

Humor in this film is hilarious without being corny. It's very on the nose, what's currently happening in the scene humor. Characters (won't say who) also have amazing dynamics that supply a lot of humor for the film. Obviously we have that last snippet from the trailer and I'll give you this out of context "Mahito's turned into a parakeet"

The story is very easy to follow. The first half of the story is very grounded. And even in the second fantastical half, the visuals and little sprinkles of just the right amount of information help to guide us through the amazing fantastical world. Nothing ever feels too spoonfed to the audience or too overwhelming.

Spoilers below the cut

Character was great too. The main cast each have a very touching emotional aspect and nothing is what it seems, not from the trailers and not even within the show. Characters go on journeys you never could've expected from the beginning of the show. Such as the heron, who I genuinely thought from trailers was gna be the bad guy but turned into a genuine, squat goblin companion. And the parakeet king goddamn I thought he was gna be a good guy with his "we must protect this world" gig, not some giant cannibalistic parakeet with a surprising penchant for sneaking. Anyway, I especially loved how we meet characters almost multiple times with how we're introduced to different versions of them. Kiriko>>>

The moral of this story had me confused ngl, but I'm fcking dumb and need to go read some analysis so ignore this. The main message I got was that "Life is shit. But it's worth living and I can make it better for myself. Through friends, I don't have to be alone through it all" which made me tear up ngl since I've been struggling with life this year and seeing how our boy Mahito went from being a closed off lil squat to that *cries*. Personally I interpreted the great granduncle and his blocks as seeing what's wrong with the system the older generation has built, and demanding more from it/straight up turning away from it. Also Mahito learning to let go of his mom. The pelicans wanting the best for their children and not always liking what they have to do for survival as a link to war soldiers @hamable . I also read from @simplysparrow14 and @rockpaperimpala the film is also Miyazaki coming to the realisation that 'studio ghibli will be his legacy and it will be put to rest, it won't be the same if continued without him and that's okay' and ow I just got hit in the feels.

To summarize the boy and the heron excelled, slaps, is show stopping, brilliant, awesome, a true work of art and soul and 11000/10 go watch it ON THE BIG SCREEN I am not joking.

[ultimateissuessimp]

Where's my reward?

One shot

Word count: 1,684

Warnings: None serious sword fighting

Y/N has been flirting with Killian for so damn long. Whether it was in the Enchanted Forest where he worked as a barman in one of the taverns near the docks with Killian and his crew being his regulars or in Storybrooke where they met again. While in the beginning many gave him shit for this that he was familiarising with a villain, but he seriously did not care, why should he? While he understood their reasons for it and why that could've been "bad" in their books, it wasn't really any of their business who he was trying to woo.

-Your usual, hot stuff? - he asked the pirate with a grin and a wink sent his way when he saw the man approach the bar he was working in.

-Aye, strongest you've got - Killian replied with a flirty smile as he sat down on the stool, putting both of this arms on the bar and waiting for his drink.

-Coming right up, love - Y/N said, his grin widening at their exchange of words before grabbing a nice deep glass and a flask of the best rum they had, filling of the glass up and then placing it before Killian.

-Thanks, handsome - Hook flirted back which made Y/N bite down slightly on his bottom lip while trying to stop himself from grinning any further. He tried to distract himself with other customers so his boss doesn't give him any shit for spending too much time "trying to get into the pirate's pants" as he had often called it.

That was until he had nothing else to do, so he came right back to the man, leaning on the bar right in front of him. He saw the man taking a bigger gulp of the alcohol and his eyebrow raised. He knew that Killian liked rum, better than anyone else, but something must have happened that made him drink it so eagerly.

-What's up, huh? What got you drinking it so fast as if it was water? - he asked, not really wanting to pry, but his curiosity got the best of him and he just had to say something about it.

-Neverland - Killian replied shortly, taking another gulp of his drink before setting the glass down, still holding it in his hand as he looked at the man in front of him.

-What about it? - Y/N asked confused, not really understanding what Killian was trying to say and he didn't want to assume, so he just waited for him to speak up again.

-Swan's kid got taken to Neverland by the two new in town and we're going there to get him back - Killian explained, swirling the beverage in the glass around, deep in thought.

-Oh shit… Well this sucks, no wonder it got you drinking like that. From what I remember from your tales, every time you've been there it has been shit - he said, scratching the back of his head as he thought about the whole situation Killian found himself in.

-Aye, but it's for the kid, can't let Pan get his filthy paws on him - Hook said taking another gulp of rum before slightly leaning back and taking in a deep breath. At that moment an idea popped up in Y/N's mind.

-Is there a room for one more person on your ship? - he asked, one eyebrow raised as he busied himself with cleaning some glasses that came back to him as he waited for Killian's response.

-Why? You want to go to that gods forsaken place too? - the pirate asked, both eyebrows raised as he stared at the man before him, curiosity etched in his features.

-Sure, if it's for the kid then gladly - Y/N replied with a grin. Henry was always nice to him. He said hello everyone they saw each other and even often asked him for help with his school homework when they crossed paths at Granny's when Y/N visited the place before his shifts for some lunch or breakfast. He was honoured that the kid trusted him enough to ask for help without really knowing him that well and genuinely he grew on him, so obviously he would want to help getting him back.

-Are you sure about that, mate? Lots of fighting may occur, are you up for that? - Killian asked the barman, raising his eyebrow at him in a way that got Y/N's mind spinning each time he saw him doing that. He simply nodded his head and chuckled.

-Hot stuff, you've seen me in action before, dealing with a large group of men causing ruckus in the tavern, what makes you think I couldn't handle fighting now? - he asked with a grin on his face as he poured Killian one more glass when he saw him slide it over to him and then giving it back to him, once more half filled.

-This is a whole lot different, love - Hook said, this time taking a smaller sip of the drink that had been given to him as he observed Y/N.

-How about this? We can have a little one on one. If I meet your expectations, you let me come with you? Seems good? - Y/N gave Killian a proposition with a smug smirk, already knowing that he'll be coming to this adventure.

-And what else? You'd like a kiss with that too? - the pirate joked, chuckling and shaking his head gently at Y/N's words. Y/N only looked at him with a grin so wide his cheeks started hurting.

-Yes please, a kiss from you would cure my soul - he replied, sending him a cheeky wink before leaning against the bar again, getting slightly closer to Hook whose eyebrows shot up in amusement before he nodded his head, agreeing to his proposal.

-Alright. You win and you're coming with us. We'll see about that kiss though - Killian said, getting of the bar stool and lifting the glass up to his lips to take a large swig of the rum, emptying the glass before setting it on the bar again, letting Y/N clean it and place it aside.

Y/N smiled before notifying his coworker that he was on the shift with that he'll be taking his break early and then going outside with the pirate, walking to the docks where his ship was. Fighting on a pirate ship with its captain. In Y/N's books that was a win already and gods was it hot. Killian took out two wooden practice swords so they could comfortably spar but not too any damage to each other during the process, tossing it to the barman who caught it effortlessly.

They began slowly, circling around, waiting for a move coming from the other before simultaneously charging up at each other and clashing the swords, a little fight for dominance. Y/N took a step back, ducking away from the captain's swing before swirling around and getting behind him, ready to attack just for their swords to clash again when Killian spun around to protect his back. Y/N smirked as he saw the man do exactly as he expected him to do so. He leaned closer, pushing harder against him, their faces so close he could almost taste the rum on Killian's breath.

-You think you can win, sweetcheeks? - he said, grinning at the pirate, trying to get a rise out of him so he could strike at the right moment he was waiting for.

-Don't get so cocky, mate, soon enough I'll have you laying on this deck - Killian snarled out playfully, pushing the man away with a harder push and attacking again.

-Is that a promise, hot stuff? - Y/N asked with a chuckle, easily blocking Killian's blow and attacking back by kicking him in the stomach, making the man stumble back and leaving Y/N room to strike. He ran up to him, sending blow after blow before sliding to the side, quick on his feet to once again kick Killian, this time to the side.

The captain caught his foot with his hook, but Y/N quickly recovered by laying on Le hand on the deck and turning, his other leg raising to kick the sword out of Killian's hand, sending it flying off somewhere onto the deck. It left Hook surprised, making him drop the barman's foot and letting him drop to the wooden floor. Y/N swiftly stood up from his feet and pushed against Killian, both of them stumbling back from the force and falling onto the stairs not far away from them.

Y/N landed on top of Hook as the man beneath him grunted in pain from the stairs digging into his back before he looked up at him. Y/N was grinning as he pinned down Killian's hands to the stairs and sat on his hips, trapping him so he couldn't move or fight back. His sword somewhere back, forgotten on the ship's deck.

-So, where's my reward? I believe there was something about a certain… Kiss - he said cheekily, lookin down at Killian and getting his face closer to him, head tilted slightly to the side, making their noses brush against one another. He let out a sound of slight surprise when Killian actually hungrily pressed his lips to his own. That sound of surprise quickly changed into a soft moan as he got lost in the kiss. That was until Hook got un upper hand by freeing his right hand, placing it behind his head and wrapping one leg around his thigh, swapping their positions. Killian's hand now beneath his head softened the fall of it onto the stairs. He laid beneath him, out of breath and with raised eyebrows as he stared up at him.

-Let's say you've passed - Killian said quietly before smashing his lips against Y/N's again, hungry for more, letting the barman wrap his arms around him to keep the man close to himself as they've exchanged spit. Y/N grinned into the kiss. Neverland, here we come.

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter two: ROOT of the PROBLEM

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,609

CW: filler, exposition, nothing really happens in this chapter

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

NICHOLAS

All was quiet, or as quiet as an April early morning could be, when Nicholas pulled into the gravel driveway. Of course, he expected nothing less. He’d learned pretty early on that no noise in the woods meant nothing good.

He got out of his car, took a deep breath before bracing himself, and then reached out with his senses to feel if there was still anything lurking beyond the treeline that surrounded Taylor’s house. Normally he could sense if something passed through or lingered long enough to leave an imprint. But despite what Taylor had told him over the phone, he couldn't find anything unusual.

When he trudged through the front door, he was surprised to see a mass of off-white fur on the living room floor. When he approached, the mass moved. Nick looked up at him briefly from his position of lying in front of the couch, before turning his snout towards the cocooned form of Taylor. The only part of them visible was their arm, buried in the fur on Nick's back.

It might not seem like such an odd thing to most people, despite the fact that a wolf-dog the size of a horse was starting to snore in the middle of the living room, but last summer, Nick had almost killed Taylor before Noah and Nicholas had intervened. That was the moment when Taylor found out that the woods surrounding their house were full of dark creatures and ancient powers. Nicholas had tried to soothe things over as best as he could.

I'm home, Nicholas projected out to Noah.

ABOUT TIME.

Nicholas rolled his eyes at Noah's annoyed tone. “Alright, Folio. I got it from here,” he said, patting the large Grim between his ears. He then flicked the tip of the ear that stood straight up.

Nick shook his head vigorously, annoyed at being woken up again. He only opened one hazel eye, let out a huff, and then settled back onto the floor.

“Fine, suit yourself,” Nicholas muttered. He then unwrapped Taylor, picked them up off the couch, and carried them back to their bedroom. He was tucking them in when he heard Noah’s voice again.

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED.

It can wait, Nicholas replied. He was dead tired. Was he worried about what had tried to attack Taylor? Absolutely. But all he wanted to do right now was crawl into the bed beside them, wrapping them in his tattooed arms to shield them from any more harm.

Also, he only got two hours of sleep before Taylor had called him, on the point of tears, as they told him what happened. He was sure he could sleep for days at this point.

IT ABSOLUTELY CAN NOT WAIT.

It can, and it WILL, Nicholas told Noah with the best approximation of a growl his mind could project.

It must've worked, because Noah was silent after that. Nicholas didn't want to think of what Noah would be like the next time he saw him, so instead he called Taylor’s workplace and left a message for their boss, summarizing the situation as best as he could to explain that they wouldn't be coming in today. Then he went around the house, checking to make sure everything was locked up. After he herded the cats into the bedroom, he casted his senses out once again. When he determined all was well, he changed into what he normally wore to sleep and crawled under the covers next to Taylor.

He wrapped himself around them: both arms around their waist, tucking a hand under their shirt, and a leg over theirs. He then buried his nose into the ruffled mess of their hair, and closed his eyes.

Nicholas felt like he shouldn't be surprised that he didn't miss Richmond. Once upon a time, he had said that once his Granny had passed away, he would cut New Hope completely out of his life. But that had been before Noah had become the Watcher of the Woods. He still felt like he would've tried to put as much distance between him and the town as possible, but that had also been before he met Taylor.

And now here he was: his grandmother - his tutor to his powers and this side of the spirit realm - was gone from this world, yet he felt more at home here than he did in Richmond. He felt like even if he tried, he could never leave.

Nicholas shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He breathed in, and he caught a whiff of Taylor's scent. His lips hovered just over their pulse, which he could practically taste through their skin. He could just… bite down and–

DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

Nicholas nearly jumped off the bed when his brain caught up to the sound of Noah’s voice. “Jesus fucking– Noah!” he shouted, twisting around to face him. He briefly looked behind him to make sure that Taylor was still sleeping, and then he angrily whipped back around to face his friend. “Seriously, what the fuck?” He hissed quietly.

Noah glared at him.

WHEN I SAID IT COULDN'T WAIT, I MEANT IT COULDN'T WAIT.

He sounded calm, but Nicholas could practically feel the anger and anxiety simmering in his blood.

Nicholas internally groaned and slid back out of the bed. As he followed Noah out into the hallway, he could hear the soft patter of cat paws jumping onto the bed. God I wish that were me, he thought, as he knew it was Jerry who had taken his place.

“Is this about the Pale Things?” he asked as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

“No, it's about something else,” Noah said. “Did Taylor tell you everything?”

"They told me about the Pale Thing," Nicholas replied.

"They didn't tell you about the thing they saw before that?”

“No,they told me about the Pale Thing,” he said flatly again. He felt like he should be concerned that Taylor hadn't told him everything, but he let it go. They had probably just been too upset to tell him. He also had been more concerned with making sure they were calmed down and safe.

“They said that there was something at the edge of the property, and it couldn't be that creature,” Noah whispered.

Nicholas furrowed his brow. He tried to think what could possibly still be out there in the Woods, but his tired brain was already in shutdown mode. There were way too many things out there that it could be without narrowing it down.

“You have any idea what that could be?” Noah asked.

"I've got no clue. You would know more than me, dude," Nicholas said.

Noah's lips thinned. Nicholas didn't need to be a mind reader to know that Noah didn't know half of what still lurked in the Shenandoah Woods. He'd only been the Watcher of the Woods for a little more than five years, and there were still times when he would find out something new.

It was something they had in common. Granny had left a bunch of hex books behind, and Nicholas had a long way to go to get through them. It didn't help that they were written in the spirit alphabet, a language his ancestors had used to hide their practice from prying eyes.

He must have dissociated, because Noah’s voice startled him. “You're still not sleeping any better, are you?”

Nicholas looked up at his best friend. “Does it look like it?” he asked.

“Dude, don't snap at me. Ever since you–”

Nicholas cut him off with a loud sigh. “I know, I know." Ever since that night in the woods.

Ever since that night he died.

“It's just… one day at a time, okay?” He said, “I'm getting through it.”

Noah gave him a look that said he didn't believe him for one second, but he thankfully let it go. “Well, try to get some sleep. You look like shit.”

Nicholas sighed heavily. “Thanks.”

When Noah left with a promise of bringing Jolly back with him if there was going to be rain, Nicholas crawled back into the bed. He picked Jerry up and placed him on the other side of Taylor, much to his dislike. He took the same place he did before Noah snuck in, and within seconds of closing his eyes, he was fast asleep.

TAYLOR

Morning came too quickly. The low red glow of the back of my eyelids woke me up before my alarm did. Once again I was finding Nick’s idea of getting blackout curtains to be a more entertaining one.

Speaking of Nick.

The next thing that registered in the fog of my sleep-addled brain was the slight snore by my ear. I then registered the feeling of arms wrapped around me, one finding its way under my shirt to keep a hand firmly pressed against my stomach. I also felt his lips pressed onto the skin in the junction between my neck and shoulder.

I opened my eyes, reaching for my phone. I checked to see how long I could stay here in the comfort of Nick's arms.

10:32.

I was over an hour late for work.

“Shit!” I cursed and tore myself free. I nearly launched Jerry off the comforter as I whipped it back.

“Mmm…” I barely heard Nick making noises as I scrambled through my dresser to find something to wear. “Bun? What’re you doing?”

“I’m late for work,” I said in a rush.

“Nnno…” he slurred. I looked up at him. “I called… told your boss you weren't comin’ in. It’s taken care of…”

My brain was short-circuiting. “But–”

He stretched an arm over the mattress, opening and closing his hand at me. “Come back to bed.”

When his words finally sank in, I checked my phone. Indeed, my boss had got the message and was adamant that I not come in today - as well as giving such bad advice as letting the sheriff's department know. “When did you–” I started to ask, but was cut off with a snore. He was back to sleeping.

I sank back into the bed and Nick's arms, wrapping mine around his midsection. I buried my face into his chest where I could hear his heart beating. The soft thuh-dum, thuh-dum was still the most reassuring sound in the whole world. Ever since that Night in the Grove, it became my favorite sound, because it meant that he was beside me, alive.

I just wish that the sound had the same effect on him that it had on me.

There had been nights where I would wake up and he wasn't beside me. Some nights he would be out front, smoking in solace or talking to someone; Noah, probably. Other nights he would be out back in the hammock, silently swaying while looking up at the night sky.

Then there were the nights where he would wake up in a frenzy, cold and trembling like he had died all over again. Sometimes I could soothe him back to sleep, but most of the time he would get up and not come back to bed. There were times where I would catch him outside, just standing. Sometimes even standing out in the woods.

The vision of him out there, almost completely wrapped up in darkness and tree limbs, had me reflexively wrapping my arms around him tighter. As if I could somehow prevent him from leaving me.

My attempt to fall back asleep was ruined when a very loud and drawn out MAO! came from the door. I groaned internally and craned my neck to see Lydia, sitting by the door, staring at me dead in the eyes. We stared each other down until she let out another one of her hungry screams.

“Alright,” I grumbled, tearing myself away from Nick. How he managed to sleep through all this screaming for years was beyond me. I pulled on some thick wool socks that Nick's mom got me for Christmas, and walked over to the door.

Just as I was about to twist the doorknob, the door opened towards me. I jumped out of the way.

“Oh, you're up,” Noah said. “I heard Lydia and–”

“I'm sure the entire Valley heard Lydia,” I interrupted him. I heard a loud snort come from down the hall.

Noah simply walked away from the door. I was sure I wasn't going to go back to sleep now, so I stepped out and silently followed him through my house.

Our house.

Once upon a time, this house belonged to him and his mother. He lost it after he died in the Woods, and was no longer able to access it due to his haint-status. It was only after I had purchased it and willingly invited him in that he was able to enter, and still it took him a while to stay here. He wouldn't even enter the spare bedroom, which I correctly had guessed was his old bedroom. Folio had taken it over, which had been fine by him. Noah and Nick still felt like they owed the Grim for what they weren't able to do all those years ago.

When I entered the open kitchen, I was surprised to see Jolly sitting at the dining table. I wasn't surprised however to see that he had nearly eaten half of the bowl I had for his sweet tooth.

“God morgen, lilla,” he said when he looked up at me. As usual, he was only wearing his black jeans, though they looked to be dry this time. His milky eyes, making him look blind though I knew for a fact he wasn't, looked me up and down. “You look like you slept well, considering.”

I knew he was only being polite out of courtesy to me. “I look like shit, Jolly. Let's be real.” I sat down across from him. That's when the smell of something cooking hit me. I turned around to see Noah at my stove. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast. What else does it look like?” He stated. He had been whisking something in a bowl, but he was putting it into a pan now.

“How many times have I told you it's not a good idea to cook on an open stove top without a shirt on?”

“How many times have I told you that I don't give a fuck?”

I turned back around to see Jolly smirking at me, to which I rolled my eyes.

“So did you guys find anything last night?” I asked.

“Other than the lik in the woods, there was nothing,” Jolly said, his Swedish accent more pronounced around the candy in his mouth.

“You don't think something else is starting to wake up in the woods, do you?” I asked, nervously twisting the table mat under my fingers.

With a clunk, Noah set a plate down in front of me. My mouth watered at the smell of eggs and cheese and bacon, but I grew irritated at the thought that he probably used an entire carton of eggs for this. “It's too early to tell,” he said, sitting down next to me. “But it's too random for one of those things to show up like that.”

“So what does it mean?” I asked.

I could practically feel the tension vibrating along Noah's skin. “Pale Things usually showed up as a precursor to worse things. If you actually did see a tall and dark figure outside,” Noah said, “then we might be looking at a return of the Black Stag.”

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

Featured Creatures

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

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[beah388love]

A shootout

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Legend Masterlist

Pairing: Reggie Kray x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ron and Reg have a gangster ‘meet up’ but Ron gets a bit hungry after…

Warnings:Blood,cuts,injuries,hammers,weapons,swearing,bad language,guns,bats,bruises!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

"Right boy's now i believe we have some business to do?" I said as i lit up my cigarette. "Yeah that's right Reg. Mike Jobber want's to see you and Ron down at their pub" Albie told me. "Oh is that so?

Well, looks like i'm gonna have to get my brother then don't it?" I laughed and then left to go and get Ronnie.

"Ron! Ron come on mate, we've got business that needs seeing to down at the Richardson's pub!" I shouted into his caravan. "Alright alright i'm coming" He shouted. A few minutes later the caravan door opened and out came Ronnie. "Lets get this over and done with" He smirked as he made his way over to us and got into the back of the car.

We arrived at the pub and walked in."

"Reg, Ron, the Richardson's was unexpectedly engaged so we're gonna look after you" Jobber said with a smirk on his face. "Ah its alright, um, landlords gone down to change the barrel for us. Ya don't mind if i pour myself a pint do ya?" I said. "What is that?" Ron questioned, looking down at one of the other guys hands. " What do ya think, poof? It's a fucking tool" He laughed. "No it's not, it's a fucking rolling pin. Who are you? Barry Kradick? What ya gonna do with that? Ya gonna bake me a cake?

Gonna sing me a song. watch me blow out me fucking candles?" Ron said as he held up both of his guns that was still in the pockets of his jacket. "I come here for a fucking shootout, right? A proper shootout with some proper men. Reg, this lot are fucking nonce's to a man. They're fucking nonce's.

Get out my fucking way, go on get out, go on, fuck off. Call yourself a fucking gangster? A shootout right is a fucking shootout! Wankers! Fucking embarrassing! Waste of my time! Fucking waste of my time!" Ron shouted as he walked out the pub doors. "Your brother's done a runner" Jobber smirked at me. "Nahh, he is just genuinely disappointed with ya that's all" I said as i looked at my pint of Guinness. " Charlie Richardson said we're to knock the granny out of you Reg" Jobber again, smirked at me. "Oh yeah he did, did he?

That's good of him. Right, listen. When you see him next, you tell him from me yeah, that I say fuck charlie, right? Fuck his brother yeah? Fuck that fat George Cornell that hangs out with him. Fuck your face yeah, yeah? And fuck the fucking lot of ya as well. What d'ya think of that? D'you like that?" I laughed at him. He nodded in reply. "Now you wont mind if i fight back will ya?" I smirked at Jobber. "What, d'ya think you could manage it?"

He laughed. "Just a warning, i ain't gonna fight fair though. So i brought these. Alright?" I showed him the knuckle dusters on both my hands. "Now before we start, i got a little joke for ya, you'll love this one. Paranoid schizophrenic who walks into a bar" I smirked as i saw Ron smash a hammer over the back of one of boy's heads. This was going to be eventful.

———

"Ah! Fucking poofs" Ron breathed out as reg went to go drink his beer.

"Oi Reg! Is Y/n busy?" Ron asked reg and reg shook his head "don't fink so".

"Can she make me a fry up?" Ronnie asked reg and reg nodded.

"I can ask her but it might take a little while" reg said and ron nodded.

"I don't care how long it takes reg! She makes the best hash browns, oh and her bacon is so good and her eggs she does it perfect every time.." ron couldn't stop talking about it all the way back to Y/ns flat.

Once they got to your flat they knocked at the door and you looked through the peep hole before opening the door.

"Hey boys, that better not be your bloo- Reg!" You gasped when you saw Reggie's blood stained face that was caused by a definite punch to the nose and Ron's bloody mouth.

"Y/n? Can you make me a fry up please?" Ron asked you pleadingly and you nodded quickly but you helped them get cleaned up first.

"Can you do hash browns bee?" Ron asked you and you nodded.

"I'll see what we've got in a minute ron" you smiled before grabbing a cold wet towel and cleaning up Reggie's face.

"You better have gotten them better than they got you" you said as you gently wiped his nose that was definitely gonna bruise.

"I can say we did dove" he smiled as he kept looking at you dreamily as you Carried on wiping his bloody face.

"Can I have three hash browns,three sausages, one poached egg and a couple pieces of bacons please?" Ron asked you whilst you cleaned up reg.

"Mhm, yes you can Ron, would you like ketchup with it?" You asked him and he replied with a small yes.

"Ron?" Reg coughed as he gave Ron a stare and Ron thought for a moment as to what reg meant by it.

"Oh sorry, thank you Y/n" Ron said and you couldn't help but smile.

"It's alright Ron, right Reggie can you clean Ron up whilst I make some food?" You asked and he nodded before walking over to Ron.

"Reg? What are you Havin?" You asked quite loudly so he could hear you.

"I'll just have the same as Ron lovely" he replied.

"Okay" you replied back.

———

"Okay Ron here's yours, and reg here's yours" you said as you placed the full plates down and they both said thank you.

"It's alright" you smiled before sitting down and eating yours.

Ron shut his eyes as he ate his food and he kept humming exaggerated hums that made you smile.

"Is it good?" You asked smiling and Ron nodded along with reg.

"It's amazing dove thank you" reg said which made you blush.

"Your welcome Reggie" you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking off to the living room to carry on doing a word search book you had.

[macravishedbymactavish]

Somebody Come Get Him (TF141 x M!Reader)

He's dancing like a stripper.

TW for mentions of alcohol, swearing, club dancers. Soap wants to be a sugar baby but do we blame him.

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist | Based on this request | 18+ MDNI |

You passively listened as plans for a night out this weekend were being planned. Who would be the designated driver? Should we go somewhere new? You two are coming, right?

"Sorry guys, I'll have to pass on that. It's my grans birthday and you know how it is with older people" you chuckled at the momentary horror in their eyes. "I'm sure Simon will be a good sport and go out this time. Right mate?"

The look of object horror and filtered rage in your best friends gaze caused your heart to skip a beat or two. You loved Simon like a brother, but he was a scary motherfuc--

"'Course I will, since you can't be bothered. Tell Gran I say hello" He quipped, seeing right through you. Fuck I shouldn't have thrown him under the bus...

Swallowing the growing anxiety inside, knowing this was bound to bite you in the ass later. You gave your friends a warm smile before bidding yourself off. To granny's house.

--

"You're late!" You heard an accented voice scold as you walked in the back. "How many times must I yell at you before you learn? I think you like being yelled at!"

A smile spread across your face in amusement as the woman's attempt at scolding. Walking by you pressed a cheeky kiss to her head chuckling. She couldn't stay mad at you, or anyone else here for that matter.

"Happy birthday, Gran" you teased, ducking as a headband was thrown in your direction at the name. Ma, boss lady, Gran (she hated that one), Ruska Roma (she loved this one) -- a woman by many names to her many employees. The only boss in history that everyone seemed to like.

"What did I say about that shit? Enough!" She laughed, followed by a thank you, asshole. Now get to work already. Save the world by day, and entertain the world by night.

"You're here? Been a long time stranger" you heard a familiar voice tease, walking up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders. Eyes meeting yours in the mirror, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Your bitten lip, and awkward smile gave you away.

"You still haven't told them?" Your soul sister laughed.

"Why would I? It's bad enough that Simon knows some of what I do, let alone my entire team" You argued, face and neck flushing at the idea of the guys finding you out. "All they need to know is I'm visiting family for a birthday"

"And you're bringing poor gran into this? Straight to hell for you" Her eyes widened, her shit eating smirk growing. Everyone here knew you were part of an elite team.

Nobody on your team knew you were actually a member of 2 elite teams. Awkward.

"At least I'll be in good company" you snorted, rolling your shoulders back as you took a deep breath. Nerves starting to catch up with you, 45 minutes until you're on deck.

--

"Barebackers? Never heard of the place" Kyle scrunched his nose up slightly at the suggestion. A place that appeared in Johnny's targeted ads. "Think it's any good?"

"Half decent menu for pub food" Simon chipped in, mindlessly scrolling his phone. The last thing he wanted was to go out tonight, but someone had to use him as the scapegoat.

"Better than trying to party with Gran all night" Johnny laughed, pulling up the address.

--

"Pre show shots for my birthday!" Gran called out, causing everyone in the dressing room to cheer. Her birthday being the only night staff can consume any alcohol while on shift.

Taking a shot from the tray, you lifted it in the air. Joining in on the out of tune "happy birthday" being sung.

--

"So that was terrible, thanks you two" Price huffed, leading the group out of the club. Cursing to himself that he didn't notice anything odd about a name like Barebackers.

Barebackers!

"How was I supposed to know it was a bunch'a dudes stripping?" Kyle argued, shaking his head. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but going to a club like that with your coworkers was unerving to say the least.

"I know a place down the street. Shouldn't be any dancers" Simon offered, ready to leave Barebackers behind. Happy he dodged a you-sized bullet tonight.

--

"Aye! Be ready to go, the song after this is all you" you heard the DJ yell to you. Pulling your attention from the patrons at the bar you were serving. Giving her a thumbs up, you began the process of hyping yourself up for the show.

You've been doing this for a fair while, you were confident in your abilities to entertain and majority of the feedback you received was positive. Doesn't mean you're not riddled with nerves and feel like you're about to vomit before going on stage though.

Ignoring the twisting of your stomach, you busied yourself with making the next order of drinks that came through.

3 fruity drinks, 1 double whiskey and 1 double bourbon.

--

"I'm not drinking that" Simon pushed the purple and blue drink back across the table. "That's begging for a damn hangover"

"Suit yourself old man" Kyle laughed as Johnny sat back in his seat, now with both drinks in hand. "More buzz for me"

"You start puking, you're on your own" Price mumbled, staring at the two younger men.

"What ever happened to being a mother hen, sir?" Kyle laughed, damn near doubled over when Price gave him a silent side eye in response.

Don't compare me to poultry again.

"Fuckin 'ell" Simon cussed under his breath, seeing movement out of the side of his eye. Dear old Granny smiling over at him with a knowing look, giving him a small wave.

"Now why don't you give it a shot? One night, you keep all your tips and if you don't like it you're off the hook" she bartered. You brought in a ton of revenue and traffic after your first night. She could only imagine what having double trouble military men would do.

"I'll pass ma'am" He awkwardly nodded, already hearing his brother laughing at him if this ever got out. Even worse, his squad.

"If this SAS gig ever doesn't work out, you know where to find me. Or he will at least" she jabbed a thumb in your direction, to where you stood behind the bar chatting with patrons.

That had to have been what, 6, 7 years ago? How did the woman look almost identical to now. Better yet,

How did she recognize him?

"Mr. Riley, it's good to see you again" He tensed right up, hearing a familiar voice now beside him.

"Couldn't miss your birthday Gran" Ignoring the awestruck looks of his team, he carried on light conversation. Hoping her previous offer wouldn't come back around.

"All drinks on me tonight, so have fun" she smiled at everyone, as the song was fading out. "Rooster there, find me after. I have an offer you can't refuse" she winked at Soap, who's eyes widened as he finished half of the second drink.

"Enjoy the show, boys" with one last smile, she returned to her initial seat. Beside the main stage a few feet away from them.

"Gran just hit on you" Kyle howled, clutching his stomach as his body shook with laughter. Managing to get out something about this is amazing.

"I'd be a damn good sugar baby" Johnny smiled, moving to finish his drink before promptly choking. "Is that?!" Eyes wide, looking directly at where you walked on stage.

"Bloody hell it is" Price chuckled, impressed with the confidence and skill you held yourself with. Feeling Simon slide down a little more in his seat beside him. The music picked up before he could ask just how much his lieutenant knew about your personal life.

"Is this how granny likes to party?" Johnny yelled over the music, expression a mix between confusion, intrigue and approval.

"I guess she owns this place now too" Simon grumbled, arms crossed as he watched you put your all into the show. Last he heard of the old bat, she had a private entertainment buisness. Leasing out her dancers to the highest bidders to the local clubs.

"I don't see why you wouldn't take her up on the offer" you shrugged, counting your payout from the night. "Easy way to make extra cash and unload after a long day here"

You heard a soft grunt in response from the other couch. Your best friend and roommate still in disbelief that you were so open and willing to take your clothes off for money.

"Too much family 'round here. Don't need my nephew hearing about that" you stopped counting, and gave him an amused look. You were terrified for your first show, and all but begged him to come as moral support. While Simon respected the talent and effort, it solidified that he wouldn't be caught dead half naked and shaking himself on stage.

"Then don't tell him. Simple"

3 of the men watched as you performed, all the movements coming naturally. A skill that you gave your last few years perfecting.

The 4th was pinching the bridge of his nose groaning about how he got into this situation. From one bar watching half naked dudes dance to another.

You focused on your movements, letting yourself get lost in the music and occasional cheers. No other thought besides letting loose, having fun, ohmygodisthatmyteam.

Brushing the thought aside as soon as it came, you finished your performance. Sauntering off the stage, catching your coworker in a quick hug before making your way to the back, shaking slightly. Nope. No. Nonononono.

"Who's the one with the cap? You need to introduce me" your soul sister begged, handing you a towel to wipe off the sweat and residual glitter from your performance. Fuck, play this right.

"I dunno, is he a regular?" Your heart lept into your throat as you feigned ignorance. Refusing to meet her knowing gaze as you changed back into your normal clothing for the remainder of your shift.

"In your life, yes. Now spill, who is he?" She bit her lip, smile widening as you rolled your eyes. About to shut her down when you noticed a familiar figure wander into the back alongside Gran. Fuckfuckfuck

"I've gotta go, can't leave things unattended" you rushed out, turning to leave before you heard a call of your name in a familiar accent.

"You never told me there were more fine gentleman" Gran lightly scolded, one hand wrapped gingerly around Johnny's bicep as she smirked. "Why not?"

While you were proud of yourself for both lives you ran, you also made a point to keep said lives seperate. Church and state if you will. None of the guys on 141 (minus Simon - but you two met in your teens) knew about your extracurricular activities, and none of your entertainment family knew exactly what you did in the military. 5 years of keeping this life secret, now exposed.

"Not to flirt with you, but you look mighty hot" Johnny laughed, clearly a tad intoxicated as he scanned around the room. Wondering why you didn't tell the guys sooner.

"Gran, a minute?" You whispered, avoiding your friends gaze. Shame suddenly taking over you. Why? There's nothing wrong with this, with what I do.

"We can talk here. No secrets." She looked you dead in the eye, reading every thought going on in your head. "They love you anyway. Maybe a little more now even. You are a man of many talents, my son" she smiled, patting your cheek lightly while encouraging you to see the rest of your team. You nodded slowly, grabbing Johnny as you walked back out into club (much to his dismay, something about sugar baby dreams...?)

"So much for "when we work together I best not have to see you shaking your ass around anymore" Simon grumbled when you approached the table, "when did Roma buy out the place?" He asked, as you sat alongside your team. Leg bouncing with nerves.

"About a year ago now, I started here after the OP we did in Amsterdam" you quietly explained, cringing when you heard Johnny start loudly explaining to Gaz how much he liked it here.

"You keep yourself busy then" Price offered, amusement lacing his tone. "No wonder you're rich. Natural talents pay quite well I suppose"

"Natural talents? More like years of practice" Simon quipped, giving them a brief summary to your years of knowing each other. The countless times he walked in on you dancing somewhere in your shared flat half naked. Causing your face to burn brighter with every word and story. Your move earlier in the night officially coming back around to haunt you.

"No need to be ashamed, you're good at what you do" Price started, taking a swig of his drink before continuing.

"But I best not see you shaking your ass anywhere near me ever again"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[k-kizkhalifa]

Pink Excerpt bc I’m weak for this fic, y’all. Enjoy some domestic drarry 💕

—

Draco was laughing when Harry walked out of the bedroom, he heard the laugh like a bubble, it was such a carefree noise and full of so much emotion. It filled every corner of the house and it filled Harry, who found Draco’s living room looking much less polished than it had last night.

The man in question was sprawled across the floor, on his stomach, with Teddy in front of him doing his best Draco Malfoy impression. Bright blonde hair, pointed features, a smirk in place, while he said the word, “Potter!”

Draco was laughing, hard, his whole body shaking with it. “Teddy, I do not sound like that!”

The boy grinned, “Teddy, I do not sound like that!”

“I’m going to get you,” Draco grabbed at the younger boy, who let out a gleeful laugh of his own, running and jumping on the couch. His features returned to normal as Draco jumped up, hurrying after him. “That’s it,” Draco was taunting with a smile, stalking towards the younger boy with his hands out for him.

Teddy squealed in laughter, jumping over the back of the couch and running straight at Harry. He looked up, and another smile flashed across his face, “daddy!”

“Hey, buddy,” Harry scooped him up, and gave him a tight snuggle. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Teddy held him tightly, giving him a cuddle, “granny said you worked?”

“Yes, bud, I had some work to do,” Harry sat him down, “but all done for now, I get to be with you…two.” He glanced at Draco, who was letting out a quiet breath and smiling at them. “You didn’t have to let me sleep.”

“You needed it,” Draco smiled, lifting a shoulder, “I sleep in tomorrow,” he winked, watching Harry put Teddy down.

“What is all of this?”

“Oh, we got some toys. For here.” Draco waved a hand, as Teddy went running around the room, and straight for the lego pieces. “I mean he’s welcome to take them home, I don’t care. I can always get more.”

Harry gave Draco a look, “he doesn’t need more toys, Draco.”

Draco smiled again, “you’re the bad guy, I’m the good one.” He watched Harry take a step towards him, and then he reached out giving him a hug of his own, “let him be spoiled, Potter,” he whispered to the man, giving him a kiss on his temple. “It’s just toys, he’ll be bored of them in a few weeks and they’ll mean nothing.”

“Mm,” Harry closed his eyes, letting Draco hold him. “I was tired, I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem, honestly. I love this boy, he is perfect. We had fun.” Draco gave his arm a soft rub, “how are you? Feel okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, and leaned into his touch, “what time is it?

Draco glanced at his watch, “about noon. Hungry? Need anything? Your.. throat okay?”

Harry, flushed, and gave him a look, “Draco stop worrying about my throat.”

Draco chuckled, lifting an eyebrow, “I’d like to use it again, sometime, Potter. Have to make sure it’s alright.”

Harry took a breath and looked at Draco with wide eyes. “So you have decided that accidents do happen?”

“Hungry?” Draco asked again, smoothly. “We bought groceries,” he explained, dropping his arms, “go make us something.”

Harry collected himself, and after giving Draco a quick kiss he turned to the kitchen to see what it was they had bought. He figured that whatever it was, was surely something Teddy had picked out. He had just ducked into the icebox when he heard a knock on the door, and caught a sigh from Draco.

“Someone here,” Teddy said suddenly, and Harry peeked through the open setting and saw Draco walking towards his front door.

“Yes, someone is here. Let’s get rid of them, hm?” He was saying as Teddy ran over to him, and he took his hand. “We don’t like uninvited guests here, Teddy.” Draco explained softly, “unless it’s you and your father.” Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes watching Draco pull the door open. “Oh.” Harry heard from the other man in a rather tight tone, and Harry moved to get a look.

On the other side of the door stood Narcissa Malfoy, in all black robes and looking polished as ever. “Draco,” she greeted her son, before her eyes fell on Teddy Lupin in question, “a child?”