#before you eclipse me and i wave at you like your dad who you just beat at basketball for the first time

[corviiids]

"i suck at summaries": a dubiously helpful list of tips for how to do a summaries

by no means am i an expert. but in the hopes that this is helpful.

fic summaries have two main purposes:

tell a reader what the premise of your fic is in one glance, and

provide a 'hook' that convinces them to click on it.

based on those two purposes, here's what you should aim to do:

pack the key information into something that can be read while scrolling, and

make your fic stand out.

how do you do that. there are many different ways. ymmv. here are some starting points which may help if you are really, truly stuck.

details under the cut. in summary:

know your premise

keep it short and sharp

demonstrate your style

1: can you describe your premise in maximum three lines?

fewer is better. im not saying your summary has to BE fewer than three lines, you just need to be able to describe the premise as concisely as possible. not the whole fic. not everything that happens. just your premise.

being able to condense your ideas this way will improve your understanding of the work and make it easier to summarise.

sometimes it's a bit hard to isolate what exactly your premise is, especially if you were just writing into the void. so here are some questions you can ask yourself to figure it out:

what was the idea that spurred you to write the fic?

what is the climactic action in the fic?

if the fic is an au, canon divergence, what if, etc - what is the point of difference between this and canon?

if the fic is based around a trope, a genre, a particular device - how did you apply it, what makes the work familiar, and what makes it different?

this is important, because:

2: brevity is the soul of wit

now that you know your premise, it's time to jazz it up. turn it into a one-liner or similarly catchy pitch. give it a makeover.

it doesn't have to be literally one line. however, do not make your summary super long. do not make either your summary or your tags a massive block of text. the reader is scrolling. they have not yet decided to invest time in your fic.

the ideal summary is stylish and concise. your reader should be able to take it in without pausing for too long. it gives them a good impression of you: you know how to be economical with your sentences, which means your writing is probably easy and enjoyable to read.

and on that note:

3: including an excerpt is always an option

an optional option. but if you're stuck, it's a free card to play.

readers want to know that your writing style matches what they like to read. showing off your style can help you stand out to an interested reader.

try and find a few lines which are representative of the premise, representative of your style, and sufficiently intriguing. an excerpt is a try before you buy. you just wrote a whole fic. you want people to read the whole fic and enjoy your work. so show them what you have to offer.

what is an example, postmaker

look im not more qualified to give this advice than anyone else, but here's what i do if it helps. i typically pick out a short excerpt and include a short pitch underneath it. that way the reader knows what i sound like and what the fic is about.

here is a baldur's gate 3 fic summary

shadowheart says, “kill l–” “not lae’zel, darling, it’s too obvious. in fact, both of you are banned from killing each other.” astarion thinks for a moment. “in the game, at least.” -- the gang plays fuck, marry, kill.

this fic has a basic premise and hinges on dialogue, so i picked some sample dialogue to demonstrate what my grasp on the character dynamics looks like and then added one line to explain what the fic is about.

here is a death note fic summary (death note spoilers) (i guess)

The night Ryuzaki dies, L appears in Light's bed. -- (every night when light goes to sleep, his dreams place him in a romantic relationship with his newly-dead rival. it makes him sick.)

this fic has a more abstract premise, so i picked a short excerpt to demonstrate what the tone of the fic is (a bit mysterious). then i added two lines: just enough information to explain what the catalyst of the fic is, but no more than that, so that the reader will be intrigued.

here is a persona 5 fic summary

Ren grins. “You want me to date Goro?” “Pretend-date Goro,” Ann corrects. “And make his crush jealous.” “This is not going to work,” Goro says. “Sure, I’ll do it,” says Ren, still grinning. He does his own rendition of Ann’s eyelash bat. “Go out with me, Goro-kun?” “I’m older than you, so show me a little respect,” Goro says crossly. “Our relationship is off to a bad start, Ren-kun.” -- (or: what not to do when you're fake-dating your real crush.)

this fic is based on a premise everyone knows well (fake-dating trope), so i picked dialogue that samples the tone of the fic and of the key relationship so that readers can decide if i write the dynamic in a way they personally vibe with. then i added a line to tell them what the trope is, so that fake-dating trope enjoyers know that's what it is.

anyway. hope that helps

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

-

“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I��ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position. 

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood. 

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache. 

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish. 

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income. 

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air. 

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him. 

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss. 

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic. 

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt. 

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you. 

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance. 

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job. 

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit. 

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed. 

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.” 

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him. 

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment. 

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone. 

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are. 

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you. 

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you. 

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy. 

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking. 

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations). 

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too. 

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man. 

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin. 

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap. 

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind. 

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams. 

“Not bad,” you squeak. 

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

[is-on-its-way]

Love in the dark

Ao3

Mulder and Scully and their 5/6 year old go see the Eclipse lol

Setting: Some dirt road in Maine

Kids name: Luna Lark Mulder Scully... don't @ me I don't know. Or do @ me with a better name suggestion.

note: bubele is pronounced bub-eh-lah (My head canon is Mulder learned some NYC yiddish from his dad's parents.)

❂❂❂

“Quick Lula, we have to hurry! He said unbuckling her from her carseat “Are you ready to run?”

“Yeah!” she squealed as she hopped down from her carseat. He took her tiny hand and helped her step down from the 4 Runner to the gravel dirt road. She lept out and swung from his arm as he said “Woah!” And she squealed in delight.

“Come on you two!” Scully said as she threw a pack over her shoulder from the open window at the back of the car.

She started into the field of lush green grass from the dirt road and looked back at them as they walked towards her. She waited with her hand out for Luna to grab.

They walked her hand in hand, one on either side, lifting her over the hollow where road met pasture. They continued on into the middle of the field surrounded by trees.

Luna looked up at Scully “Can I have the bubbles now, mommy?”

“Yes, my love” Scully said digging in the pack and producing a large pink bottle of bubbles. She unscrewed it partly and handed it to Luna, who took it and started waving it around attempting to make bubbles as she ran.

Mulder looked up at the sun hand over his brow. Then at his watch, “Shouldn’t be long now maybe 10 minutes. We really made it just in time huh?” He smiled down at Scully

She shook her head and said “We made it thats all that matters” she was taking a mustard yellow striped blanket out of the pack and trying to unfurl it on the ground.

“Youre sure this is in the totality zone?” She asked

“Yup, I triple checked before we left this morning and put the coordinates directly into the maps.” Mulder grabbed a side of the blanket and they laid it down. Luna danced around happily singing

“It's a perfectly beautiful day for playing A perfectly beautiful day for staying outside It's a perfectly beautiful day…”

Scully looked at her, hands on her hips with a look of complete devotion and affection.

Mulder looked at Scully watching their baby girl with the same exact expression on his face.

She felt his gaze and looked at him “You’re the one who said no shows past 2001.”

“Mr. Rogers is a classic, Scully. Much better than the swill they call children’s programming nowadays.”

“Uh huh.” She said skeptically, tucking her chin, looking up at him, hands on her hips.

He went to her and swept her up in his arms and kissed her. She was irresistible when she was annoyed.

She exhaled an “Oh” and melted into him, opening her mouth for him.

They broke apart and Scully put a hand to his cheek as she turned to keep watching Luna from his arms.

“Lets get the food.” He said giving her temple a kiss.

They sat on the blanket and Mulder took a bottle of sparkling wine, tupperwares of crackers, cheese, and sliced apples pears and raspberries out.

Scully took the cover off the fruit and took one before calling Luna over.

“Luna Lark! Come get a snack before it gets dark!”

“Hey a rhyme!” Mulder exclaimed, as Scully smiled.

She galloped over and accepted a slice of apple. She stood with apple in one hand and the bubbles in the other “Its gonna be nighttime?”

“Yes, the sun will be blotted out forever” Mulder said

Scully hit him in the shoulder “Mulderrr!” She tried not to smile as she took the bubbles from Luna, “Poppa’s teasing you my love. You know how we can see the moon in the daytime sometimes?”

She nodded, looking worried.

“Well this time well be able to see the moon directly in front of the sun.”

She looked confused, Mulder added. “The sun will hide behind the moon and it’ll get dark but then the moon will keep moving like it always does, and the sun will come back out.”

She pondered this and said “Not forever?”

“No, not forever.” Scully shook her head.

Content with this she walked onto the blanket and settled between them, munching her apple.

Mulder handed her a raspberry, then a cracker. “Do you want cheese?”

She nodded. He added a piece of yellow cheese to the cracker and she bit into it.

Scully fished out a small metal water bottle covered in dinosaurs floating around space. She flipped the straw up and handed it to Luna, who took a long drink. Scully pushed her wild sun bleached brown hair behind her ear.

Mulder handed Scully a metal cup of the bubbly wine, she took it and they clinked their cups together. “Thank you” she said.

The daylight dimmed to paint the meadow in an amber light. Luna looked up at the sun.

Scully reached to cover her eyes and said “Don’t look at the sun without your sunglasses.”

Mulder dug in his pocket and produced paper glasses that looked like 3d movie glasses, but instead of red and blue they had dark black lenses. He put them on Luna and tucked them behind her ears as she scrunched her nose. “There you go”

“Its all dark!” She said reaching a hand out in front of her

Scully giggled as she took the pair Mulder handed her. “Look up at the sun, can you see the moon yet?”

“No” Luna said sounding bored

“I can” Mulder said just on this side of it. He taped Lunas right shoulder.

They all watched as the moon slowly made its way across the sun. Luna exclaiming when she finally saw the crescent shape carved out of the sun.

Can I lay down? Im tired of looking up” Luna said with a sigh.

Mulder chuckled “Good idea Lula.” He moved the food down the blanket and laid down as Luna snuggled into him, head on his outstretched arm. Scully looked down at them with a smile and pulled Lunas hand to her mouth to give her tiny fingers a kiss. She joined them laying back on the blanket putting he cheek against Lunas chubby arm. Mulder found her hand and entwined his fingers in hers, as they all watched the crescent get smaller and smaller through their glasses.

When the moon had crossed completely over the sun and the last glare of sunlight had disappeared behind the moon, Mulder announced “We can take our glasses off.”

Scully sat up and said “Listen Lou”

Luna fell silent and Mulder sat up. “Crickets. They think its night”

He took the glasses off and muttered “Good night” under his breath. “This is so weird” they were in complete darkness. And when they looked up at where the sun should be, they saw only a halo of soft light.

“Im scared Mommy” Luna said reaching for Scully.

“Its okay my love.” Scully said taking her into her lap and hugging her tightly to her, kissing the top of her head.

Mulder said, “Its just nighttime Lula. It will pass in a minute. Do you want me to tell you a story until it gets light again?”

She nodded in Scully arms and Scully said “She does”

“Tell me about auntie Sam in the stars”

“Oh, okay.”

Scully found his hand on the blanket.

“My sister Sam, your aunt, was the funniest and smartest kid my parents had. She was witty and sweet and she loved to bike around our town with me. And we would get ice cream every day after I picked her up from her dance classes. And she’d throw baseballs for me to hit when none of my friends could play. And sometimes our mother would make us go hunt for dinner.

Luna giggled, a wild giggle that reminded him of Scully’s laugh. She always giggled at the thought of her dad as a kid hunting for his own dinner.

“So we’d go clamming and raking for mussels on the beach. And our mom would make a big pot of pasta with butter.”

“Yuummm” She said “and then she went to live in the stars?”

“She did. She went to live in the stars.”

“And if you look up and see a twinkling star thats auntie Sam saying hi.” Scully said

She’s up there looking down on us now, during the daytime, can you believe it?” Mulder asked “Look up find her Luna!”

She looked up with a great big smile on her face, and then pointed with a tiny finger "I see her!"

"You do?!" Mulder said grabbing her hand and miming eating it.

Luna giggled and squirmed in Scully arms. 

They watched the sky for a while before Luna said

 “She's with aunty Missy.”

“Yes bubele, with Aunty Missy” He said softly.

“Will I go live with them?”

“What do you mean baby?” Scully asked her.

“Sometimes I go up there too.”

Mulder felt Scully’s fear in the darkness.

“No bubele you’re not going to go live with them, because you live with us.”

“Okay” she said in a small voice.

“But uh, next time you see Sam, tell her I say hi, okay?”

“Okay poppa” She said.

Mulder wrapped his arm around Scully and kissed her hair.

“We’ve got extraordinary kids huh” he whispered into her ear.

She leaned into his shoulder and sighed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"My one in seven point nine billion." he said as he leaned down to kiss her lips with a smile.

@today-in-fic

[wh01sgrape]

Ao’nung x Reader

Not proofread no warnings might be a little cringe

Head cannons and a short story at the end

________________________________________

♡

He wouldn’t like PDA, the most he would do is hold your hand or a quick hug in public.

♡

When you first started dating he was embarrassed. Not of you, he’s just nervous yk. Doesn’t know how to act.

♡

You were definitely in a relationship for like a week before people found out. It was his idea for your relationship to be a secret for a while but he’s the one who gave it away.

♡

He’s scared of your dad. Almost ALMOST gave up on you when he remembered who your dad was.

♡

Your first date was interesting. It starts when he accidentally knocked you into the water then he got his hand tangled with your hair while he helped you out. When you were eating together he choked,(he was so embarrassed while struggling to cough it up).

on top of all that he brought you home later than he told your father he would.

He cried when he got home.

♡

Jake acted slightly aggravated but he was holding in a laugh. It was obvious you were covered in water and he was completely dry.” So uhh what happened here.” he said small smile on his face. “He knocked me in the water” you before you heard Lo’ak bust out laughing followed by your other sibling's giggles. (it really wasn’t that funny) It warmed Neytiri’s heart to see everyone smiling again.

♡

The day after that he came back to your house early in the morning to apologize. He brought a present too.

He just pick up the first thing he saw tbh.

♡

Ask you on another date (to do it right this time) and-

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You woke up with your head smacking the floor with a loud thud. When you lifted your head you saw Lo’ak smiling at you, that little bitch pushed you off. You got up quickly and chased after him. You were mad but it was still a little funny to run around like you were little again. “Hey! It’s too early for this, do that later.” Jake said soft smile on his face. Probably thinking of you and little Lo’ak running around like this. You knew he wasn’t really angry, so you just giggled and sat down at the table waiting for breakfast.

♡ (switching to first person)

While eating breakfast there was a knock on the outside of the marui, Ao’nung came inside waving to Dad “Hello sir” he said, “Ao’nung, have her back here before eclipse.” He responded with a stern look on his face. “Yea sir I will “ motioned with his head to follow him outside.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Where are you taking me,” I said As I walked with him across the beach “You will see” He led me to the water and started calling for an ilu “Come” he was he said before dragging me into the water with him and pulling me on the back of his ilu. I held him tightly closing my eyes only for a brief moment before opening them again. Under the water was beautiful, but as we began to surface I saw that we were on an island. I glanced back at where we had come from it was hardly visible anymore.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Tada,” He said smiling back at me and helping me get off the ilu. As we walked deeper into the island we saw a cave. A rather large one at that When we entered I saw water, it was glowing all sorts of colors. He went into the water with me following. When I went under I saw nothing but beautiful creatures I lost myself staring at the beauty of it. Feeling a tug on my hand Ao’nung pulled me deeper into the water. he took me to a small hole just big enough to fit through. When we went in, there was a small air pocket, surfacing with Ao’nung I laughed at the face he made coming out of the water. Then he got a little closer looking into my eyes and then at my lips before leaning in and kissing me. Pulling away to look at me again. Ao’nung grabbed my hand swimming down and out of the hole past the creatures and beautiful colors pulling me out of the water with him.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Still holding my hand he walked out of the cave and close to the shore sitting with him I asked “Wanna build a sandcastle” He looked confused “It's something my dad showed me, he said he did it when he was still human” soft smile on his face as he, agreed we spent hours making this “sandcastle” and... It wasn't that extraordinary. Sure it was tall and wide with pretty shells on it but it fell over and over and over again so it was a bit lumpy. Ao’nung looks very proud of it.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

I look at the sky before realizing how late it is. “ shit, Ao’nung we gotta go.” slightly panicked look on my face as I recall my father's words. A little worried about what he would say to Ao’nung or if you would be allowed to see him again. Being late back home the first time he let slide, back late two nights in a row he wouldn't be happy about. Ao’nung must have remembered his words too before quickly grabbing my hand and running to the water calling the ilu back “We can still make it in time if we hurry.” he said.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

We entered the water ilu moving faster than before. When we surfaced we ran as fast as we could making it back just in time. Right at the entrance of my Marui about to go in “Wait,” he said as I turned around to look at him, he grabbed my arm and put a bracelet made of shells pearls, and small pieces of smoothed sea glass. It was stunning. ”I made it myself, you don't have to wear it if you don't want to but-” I cut him off with a kiss. “I love it” smiling brightly as possible telling him good night.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

After coming inside you see your brother making fun of you. In the deepest voice, Lo’ak could muster “I made it for you babe hope you like it” pretending to be Ao’nung “Oh I love it I love I love it” Neteyam said in a high-pitched voice jumping around. narrowing my eyes as I pushed past them “Leave your sister alone” Mom said from across the room preparing dinner. I stuck my tongue out at them before sitting beside her to help.

The End. ♡

(I don't feel like writing a dinner scene so this is the end)

Ao’nung looking stupid at your door with a dead plant.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Tags 🏷️: @myh3artt

[ohno-the-sun]

"I glared down at the now fully fish Moon head sticking out from the waves. His face looked like a floating dual toned dinner plate– one with a really annoying grin"

😂😂😂oh man...

"I could see the outline of Moon clearly, his tail whipping behind him as he glared at me. His pupils were dilated into large dark disks, nearly filling his sclera."

Thats... thats would be a terrifying but cute look ngl

"Was this… his home?"

Oh yes Sun🥺 ☆bonding time~☆ you showed him the letter, he shows you also something personal

I stared at the engraving– pretending I understood what it said.

‘Mmmmm I see…’

I tapped my thumb to my chin like those detectives did in TV shows.

Moon gave me a look.

‘...you don’t understand it do you?’

I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

‘...maybe.’

😂😂😂👏👏👏 this is just pure comedy. They are so cute, I can't...

I needed to remind myself– he wasn’t really like me. He was a monster– a siren.

Nuuuuu the progresss is all gooone😭😭😭🥺

A single glowing eye opened, a large yellow sclera filling my vision, surrounding me with its golden light.

‘Hi dad.’

O.m.g. that is terrifying😰😰😰

...oh no😭😭😭 don't say that Moon will forget about Sun... but I mean... if Eclipse let him up again, Sun can just convince him and show him the things, like before... except... if Moon gets hostile against him... if he thinks that Sun is a threath...that...would complicate things more. I think at one point Moon would go out of water to "hunt" him down (if Sun does not get in, because he does not trust in Moon) or something, and that is where Sun could overpower him and try to figure out what to do and why is he like this.... oh man...

The fact that Moon does not remember at Eclipse as a threath, but have an uneasy feeling around him, because he probably done that with him before😭😭😭

is Eclipse even his "dad"? Or that is just the idea he planted in Moon's head to trust in him and come back to him....

What is he means by "a Sun"... AAAAAAAA I AM SO HOOKED INTO THE STORY, YOU CAN'T IMAGINE!!!

How does a human or siren fall in love with him?? I mean Eclipse... was he like this always?? If yes, it is understandable why their mom run away... or made a deal to at least save one of her babies...

There is so much possibilities where this can go wrong... if Sun cluelessly swim into the water...

What is Eclipse motivs with this new information? I mean... he can't get to the surface...right? ...right??...

why is he so hostile or upset about the "suns" Omg. I am iching to know what happened in the past!!! And if somehow your Oc is also involved in the incident. Or saw one of the mers in the act... was it Moon, who traumatised them? 🥺

I AM RIDDLED WITH THEORIEEESSS

Waaawawaawawaaaa

I always love your thoughts enyter they always motivate me so well!!

And waaa ur like noticing thingssss hehehe

[abugeatbugworld]

Falling, Part Two

part one

dedicated to @whiteswarmart and their undying love for dot and dim. thanks for the inspiration <3

“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re almost there.”

Dot rolls onto her belly and cracks one eye reluctantly open to see Dim gazing back at her. The moonlight reflects in his pupils, tiny stars sparkling in pools of black. She doesn’t remember falling asleep on her beetle friend, but it must have been hours ago.

“Five more minutes, Dad,” she says with a yawn. His laughter rumbles in her bones and she digs her knees deeper into the sides of his nose, afraid of saying something so funny he’ll shake her right off.

“Not ‘Dad,’” Dim corrects her. “I’m your brother. Remember?”

Dot smiles and pushes herself into a sitting position, swinging her feet back and forth over the dirt several inches beneath them. “Do you really think of me that way?”

Dim looks surprised by the question. “Of course,” he says. “You and all your friends. Don’t you think of me that way?”

Dot’s heart aches at the hint of hurt in her friend’s voice. Rosie once told her that Dim was abandoned by his parents and left on his own until the black widow took him in, so he tended to be extra sensitive when it came to the idea of family.

She scoots forward to plant a kiss between his eyebrows, leaning back just in time to catch the light pink hue rising in his cheeks.

“Of course I do. You’re the best big brother ever.” She cups her hand over her mouth and says the next part in a hushed voice. “And Francis is the best Den Mother.”

“I heard that, you little raisin!” the ladybug shouts from somewhere inside the wagon.

Dot giggles, then glances backward to see the other circus bugs beginning to stir from their slumber. Flik is the only one who seems to be wide awake, standing at the edge of the wagon’s opening and gazing into the distance. The expression on his face makes her stomach curl into knots.

At this moment, Dot’s friend doesn’t look like a chief about to lead his warriors into battle against the grasshoppers.

He looks afraid.

His eyes suddenly flicker to Dot’s, and just like that the fear is gone. A tired smile takes its place. She gives one right back, adding a thumbs up for good measure. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees Dim doing the same.

Flik’s smile widens before he’s summoned by Slim, who wants to go over their plan one last time. He gives her the smallest wave before turning his attention to his troops. Dot wonders if he’s slept at all since leaving the Island.

“Are you nervous, Your Highness?”

Dot smiles at how the beetle insists on calling her by her royal titles, even though she’s told him a million times that Dot is just fine.

“A little,” she admits, tracing the tip of her finger along the curve of his nose as she thinks through her answer. “I mean, I think the bird will work. It’s Flik’s invention after all, and his inventions are the best. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Dot bites down on her lower lip as it begins to tremble. She hates how after all this time the fear is still there, waiting to strike.

To remind her how small she is.

“I’m afraid of seeing Hopper again,” she finally says. Something sparks painfully in her chest. “And Thumper.”

“Thumper,” Dim repeats slowly. His eyes narrow, the stars eclipsed by angry shadows. “He’s the one that made you fall?”

Dot nods, clenching her eyes shut as she tries to push the memory from her mind. Her stomach swoops as though she’s in mid-air again, dropping like a stone through the fog and waiting for the ground to break her fall. And everything else.

What was that breathing trick Atta taught her? In, one-two-three. Out, one-two-three. In, one-two-three. Out, one-two—

“Princess?”

Dot opens her eyes and swivels her head to look at Dim. The fury in his eyes has melted into worry and…something else. Pain?

Dot gasps as she realizes that her fingertips are digging into her friend’s flesh. She quickly lets go, wincing at the tiny divots left behind.

“Sorry Dim,” she whispers, ignoring the prickle of tears in her eyes and giving him a wobbly grin.

He doesn’t seem to hear her. “I oughta rip that Thumper to shreds,” he seethes, stopping to paw at the ground as though getting ready to charge.

Hearing her gentle friend say something so violent cheers Dot up instantly. She giggles and leans over to pat his nose. “It’s okay, Dim. I’m okay now, right? Besides, I can fly now thanks to him.”

She emphasizes her point with a flutter of her wings, a sensation that still feels strange in the best kind of way.

Dim is quiet for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a cricket chirps, announcing to the world that night has fallen just in case they didn’t notice the darkness.

Finally the beetle speaks. His voice is so soft that Dot almost misses it.

“Yeah, but he still tried to hurt you.”

Dot can’t bring herself to look into her friend’s eyes, knowing that if she does the tears will come back and she might not be able to stop them. Instead she lays her cheek against the bridge of his nose and runs her hand along the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Yeah, he did,” she whispers.

They’re both silent for a while. Eventually Dot rolls over so she’s lying on her back, staring up at the stars peeking through the canopy of clovers above her. It seems like only moments ago she was staring up at that same sky from the top of one of those clovers, her heart breaking in two as she remembered how Flik and the circus bugs had looked after Atta sent them away. She’d refused to sleep that night, sure that the bad dreams would come back and there would be no one there to wake her up.

No one to protect her.

But now they’re here, and they’re going back to fight the nightmares together. She doesn’t have to be afraid of grasshoppers anymore. The bird will scare them all away and the ants will be free from them forever. Even if some do stay behind and try to fight, Dot knows her friends won’t let anything happen to her. After all, Dim is twice the size of all of them. Even Thumper.

Dot’s antennae perk up, a smile slowly spreading across her face. She flips onto her stomach and then rises into the air, hovering so she’s at eye level with her very large beetle brother.

“Hey Dim,” she says, flashing him her most mischievous grin. “Wanna help me get Thumper back?”

[mengy007]

SaMS Beach day!

(POLAR AU BELONGS TO: @snowe-zolynn-rogers )

Today, KillCode decided to take his kids to the beach. Moon had personality rented out an entire private beach for just KillCode and his kids.

KillCode got a tent set up while Lunar, Bloodmoon, and Eclipse went to the water.

“I found a shell, look!” Polar, Eclipse’s loving boyfriend shouted from the deeper end. He held the pretty, fragile thing in the air and waved it a bit.

It was orange with a bit of pink.

Polar looked at it, then hummed a bit and went over to Eclipse.

“Hey Eclipse?”

“Yeah Polar?”

Polar kissed Eclipse, then pulled away as Eclipse blushed hard, Polar then held the shell next to Eclipse’s face. “perfect resemblance!” Polar said with a chuckle, “Oh hush!” Eclipse spoke, covering his face embarrassed.

Lunar was splashing in the water and giggling, Bloodmoon was just sitting in the water, playing with a crab he found, and his twin, Harvest was splashing around with Lunar :D

KillCode sat in the tent, watching his kids play and have fun, “This was a great idea” he said to himself with a smile.

Polar and Eclipse took some pictures, then Polar guided him to deeper water, soon they were both where the water was up to their shoulders.

Eclipse suddenly yelped and leapt on Polar who skillfully caught him

“SOMETHING TOUCHED MY FOOT-“ Eclipse screeched, Polar burst out laughing.

Soon Bloodmoon came to KillCode

“Dad. I found a friend” Bloodmoon said, holding the teeny crab in his hands, KillCode smiled and nodded, “Nice. Just be sure to put him back before we leave, the crab lives here and it wouldn’t be nice to kidnap your friends” KillCode mentally chuckled as he said that.

Bloodmoon nodded and went to play with Lunar

Harvest came back, covered in wet sand

“Daaad…” he said sadly

“Yes, Harvest?” KillCode responded

“The water made the sand stick to me, and I don’t like it. It feels weird, help please” Harvest said, KillCode nodded and got up, “Polar. Watch them, I’m going to take Harvest to the showers” KillCode said, Polar looked at him and nodded with a thumbs up.

KillCode left with Harvest.

After a while, a huge wave came in and no one saw it until it was really big, Polar was the first to notice, and it was heading straight for Lunar who was innocently picking up shells

“Oh shit, Lunar move!” He shouted which got everyone’s attention, Lunar made a small confused noise and then faced the huge wave, Polar rushed over and being the tree he was, quickly picked Lunar up before the wave crashed down and held him above the wave, after the wave went back down, Polar put Lunar back down, “Are you okay?” Polar asked

Lunar blinked and nodded with a smile, “Thank you!” He said happily

Polar smiled and turned around

Eclipse basically leaped on him, hugging him, “I love you so fucking much!” Eclipse practically cried out, happy that Polar just practically saved his little brother

“Awh, I love you too” Polar said, giving Eclipse a little smooch, “am I going to get a reward tonight~?” Polar asked, Eclipse blushed heavily

“I-WELL-UHM-“

“Bahaha! I’m just teasing, I’m just teasing!” Polar said, Eclipse puffed up his cheeks a bit and lightly punched Polar in the shoulder.

KillCode came back with Harvest who was now in comfortable clothes. KillCode sat in the tent with harvest and they just watched the ocean.

Eclipse got tired, and he came to sit with them, he ended up falling asleep on Killcode’s lap like a little cat ^w^

The others continued to play in the water and the sand until the sun began to set, and they were packing up the things. Polar didn’t want anyone disturbing his boyfriend sleeping so he picked Eclipse up, they went to their car and drove home ^w^

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.��

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

[rogue-durin-16]

STICK TOGETHER

Summary: When Fred finds out Y/n is planning on leaving the Wizarding World, he canalizes his feelings in the worst way possible, which leads to a terrible outcome that seems unfixable.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: swearing

A/N: @meph1stophelian is here putting pressure on me to post this already so I'm apologizing for the poorly written ending lmaoo enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Fred, calm down." George begged me; he walked by my side, trying to talk some sense into me, but it was not the moment. "You gotta understand her— throwing a fit isn't going to help anyone—" I didn't even look in my twin's direction while he spoke. "Bloody hell, Fred—"

"Y/n!" I quickened my pace, leaving George behind after spotting her in one of the corridors, having a chat with a couple of Ravenclaws. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure— Oi!" I hadn't waited for her to reply before grabbing her hand and snatching her away to pull her into the nearest broom closet. "What was that about?"

"Tell me I heard Katie wrong and you're not actually leaving."

"I can't tell you that." She plainly responded, her voice steady.

A single, gobsmacked snide left my throat. "You're joking, right?" My heart ached as if it was being constricted when she shook her head no. "So you're fleeing?"

"What?"

"Things are getting ugly so you're running away."

Her eyes dug into mines as she stayed in a very uncomfortable silence before replying with. "So what if I am?" When I averted my eyes from hers, she called my name. Her eyes were somewhat softer now, with a gleam of plea in them. "For the last two years we had nothing but tragedy. Diggory died, You-Know-Who is back and recruiting, the ministry is full on going against a teenager, this pink colored nasty toad is physically abusing us, and on top of that, I have to put up with my housemates' bullshit for having muggle blood— I'm tired!" Her voice had raised a bit, enough for me to know she was struggling to keep it at bay, but still managed to. "If I can have a life out of this then—"

"You're a coward."

"Fred." there was a warning on her tone, but I couldn't listen.

"You're leaving... people behind," she attempted to reason; I didn't let her. "Dunno why I'm surprised, really. At the end of the day you're a Slytherin for a reason."

Her eyes started to well up, and I couldn't tell if it was with anguish or fury. I knew I was getting under her skin, but that was exactly what I intended to do; if I was going to leave that room scarred, so would she.

"Self-preservation, you call it." I scoffed, feeling my own rage building up faster each passing second. "Pure cowardy."

"Is that what you think?" Her tone wasn't steady anymore; she was holding back the poison of her words, for my sake.

"Yeah." I wasn't capable of doing the same thing for hers. "And I don't want your cheap excuses and emotional manipulation to convince me otherwise." My face was probably red due to the anger, my jaw and fists hurt from clenching them; I was off the rails, and the person who would usually stop me was standing in front of me. "Better leave now so you don't have the chance to sell us out when shit goes down."

Silence fell upon us, our gazes locked, equally watery and with the same amount of fury and sadness within them.

And finally she snapped. "Maybe I'm a coward, but you're a self-absorbed prat who's not able to see beyond your own ego!" The way she said it hurt me more than the sentence itself. "This is not gonna be a DADA class, Fred! I don't want to fucking die because I was too slow casting Protego."

"Good luck, Y/l/n." I curtly wished her before stalking out of the broom closet I have initially dragged her into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We avoided each other for a week. The following Monday, when I entered the Great Hall, I found George and Katie quite depressed.

"What's gotten into you?"

They shared a look before my brother turned to me, deciding to break the news himself.

"Y/n left last night." He gave me an apologetic look. "Thought she'd wait until the graduation—"

"But she's had enough." Katie finished, toying with her breakfast. "Honestly, I wish I had a life in the muggle world too."

My lungs were refusing to take the air inside; I felt as if I would choke if I stayed there, so I stormed out, jogging to reach the countryard.

I needed to breathe.

Even after the wind hit my face, that vital task felt like the most difficult thing in the world to accomplish.

I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her.

A sob escaped my chest, realising the harsh words I had spat at her were probably the last ones she would ever hear from me.

I love her.

A Year And A Half Later

READER'S P. O. V.

I managed to apparate somewhere in the cornfield —the only place around the Burrow I remembered clearly.

I should have landed with a broom, but apparently, Mad-Eye didn't inform Lupin that I would serve as an extra escort for Harry if they were ambushed, so my broom was now smashed somewhere down the muggle road we had flown over.

Mentally cursing the damn moment in which I spoke to Shacklebolt in hopes of being useful in this war, I looked for the entrance of the Weasley home, which took me quite a while.

Funnily enough, it was Lupin who stepped out, wielding his wand and casting yet another hex at me that I somehow managed to block.

With a swift wave of my hand, he was propelled back into the house. "YOU!" A long-haired redhead I recognized as the eldest Weasley helped my old Professor up as I stalked to them with my wand up. "YOU HEXED MY BLOODY BROOM! I'M LUCKY TO BE ALIVE!"

"Y/n, calm down—" Shacklebolt was now besides me with his hands up. "He didn't know you were coming— he was trying to protect George from further harm."

My brain was slow to process his words, but as soon as it did, I started to down my arm. "What happened?"

"Snape hit him with the sectumsempra." My eyes widened at Lupin's heavy words.

"Did everyone else make it?" The three of them remained silent, the ginger shaking his head no.

My breath caught up in my throat, but before I could ask if Fred was alright, another tall ginger flashed the corner of my eye, and my head snapped to the living room's door.

FRED'S P. O. V.

Everyone was scattered around the house. Ginny took Hermione and Fleur to her room; Ron and Harry made its way up too; Tonks went out —she needed a moment alone to mourn Mad-Eye—, and, while my parents and I stayed with George, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Bill went to guard the entrance.

I was still kneeling by George's side, holding his hand while our mother healed his wound the best she could, when we heard a yell followed by a strong blow in the kitchen.

I looked at my mum and dad, my eyes flickering to my twin while I reached for my wand.

As I got up, more yells were heard, this time clearer; the voice was familiar— I knew that voice all too well.

There she stood, at the entrance of my home.

Her eyes met mines as soon as she caught a glimpse of me, and my head started to spin. I knew I had no right to do what I was about to do, but after that night's events, in which the war became very much real, I couldn't help but rush to her and engulf her in a tight hug.

Surprisingly enough, I couldn't take more than two steps forward, since she did what I intended to do first.

"You're alright." She mumbled against my shoulder. My eyes shut, trying to block the tears that threatened to fall. "How's he?" She inquired whilst pulling away with a concerned frown.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded in the living room's direction. A quiet sough escaped my lips as she passed by, her hands lingering on my arms for a brief instant before she entered the room and took careful steps towards the settee.

I barely caught a couple of words from George and Y/n's exchange, my mind still buzzing due to the shock.

"What do you say, Freddie?" I frowned at my twin, regretting not listening to the conversation. "She can take my bed, right? I'm not gonna get far anyway."

"Right." I agreed, struggling for my voice to come out steady. It was Y/n we were talking about; I had known her since our fourth year, I had been friends and more with her, seeing her shouldn't be that nerve-wracking.

A couple of minutes later, we were all heading to our respective rooms, and as I closed my room's door behind me and Y/n, it dawned on me that I had underestimated the anxiety that could cause me being left alone with her.

Get it together, Fred.

"If you want, you can grab a shirt from the drawer." I finally managed to speak, motioning at the chest besides the window. She nodded and turned to it to look for one she could sleep in.

Now that I had the opportunity, I carefully observed her, and soon realized how much she had changed in the time we were apart. Not only when it came to her physical appearance; she stood a bit straighter, talked a little calmer; the joy with which she used to sparkle was dim now, eclipsed by a severe, worried attitude— a sign of us no longer being the kids who messed around at Hogwarts.

"I missed you" I knew right away that wasn't the best start for the conversation.

"It sure didn't seem like it." The bitterness in her tone stung my heart harsher than I expected.

"You're still mad?" The way I was conducting the conversation was making me want to bang my head against the wall.

She sighed, turning around now that she had the shirt on to meet my gaze. "A year and a half, Fred. You didn't contact me for a year and a half. I thought we were friends."

"You left me behind!" I talked back, partly because I panicked, but also because I, to my surprise, was still mad too. "What did you even expect?"

"A letter?" She questioned, throwing herself down on the bed. "I mean— I didn't really expect anything, but a letter would have been a good way to let me know you didn't fucking hate me." My eyes, now fixed on my lap, went wide when Y/n's voice broke at her last three words.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, quite ashamed of having to apologise while also being scared of saying anything that could harm her further. "I'm sorry about not writing and- uh... I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's not an excuse but I was really mad and..." I cleared my throat and felt the blush creeping up my neck even before I finished the sentence. "... and hurt 'cause you- I thought that maybe I wasn't important enough to you and- yeah, I'm sorry about what I said." I tried meeting her eyes but they were fixed on the wall before her.

"It's fine." She shrugged, "I guess you were right anyway."

"I wasn't right-"

"You were." She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face there. "Wanna know why I'm back?" She didn't need my response. "They're hunting down my family." My heart stopped beating for a second due to the shockingly deadpanning tone. "A friend gave me a tip-off— they were tracking them down. I got to them just in time." I refrained myself from asking about them —the less I knew, the better. "So yeah, you're right, I was a coward and left people behind."

My body shot up and my legs carried me to George's bed; without me being fully aware of what I was doing or which consequences it could have, I sat down and pulled Y/n into my arms.

Though she was shocked at first, her body soon relaxed into the familiarity of my arms, and she let out a relieved sigh. "You're not alone on this." I whispered, pecking her crown. "I'm here, okay?"

"So you don't hate me?" She murmured against my chest.

Maybe it was the fragility of her voice, or the warmth of her embrace I missed so much; maybe it was this past year and a half of regret, or the night's events, but I couldn't hold back my words.

"I love you."

And even though she went stiff, even if I had just blurted them out almost in accident, I didn't regret saying them, because I, in fact, loved her.

She pulled away to look into my eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah." I replied, calmer than I had been in a while. "And I'm really sorry about everything, if I could turn back time—" words and air were cut off by her lips crashing against mines.

We had kissed before, but it was on a bet's behalf or to prank someone; this was different, this was her pouring her 'I love you' into actions, and I embrace it gladly.

"No more running away." I commanded when she pulled back. "From now on, we stick together." She nodded, her forehead resting against mine and her palms on my chest.

[miceenscene]

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

--

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

--

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

taglist: @kelenloth ; @darnitdraco ; @gracie7209 ; @616wilsons ; @icanbeyourjedi ; @astroboots ;

[rookie-ramsey]

Eclipse, Chapter 3 (Ethan x MC)

Description: Five years after the birth of their unexpected twins, Ethan and Olivia are expecting their third child. Even if they planned the pregnancy this time around, they learn that not everything goes as planned.

Preview: “We know now that she’ll definitely need heart surgery. She has what’s called an atrioventricular septal defect. She’ll be okay for a couple of months, but then she’ll have symptoms of heart failure. The good news is that the surgery has a very high success rate,” Ethan explained.

Alan nodded softly. “Well, you know that whatever you need, I’m there. I’ll watch Zoey and Jonah anytime you need to be with the baby.”

Previous Chapter

At the end of the month, they left Boston for a trip to Alan’s house.

When Ethan pulled into the driveway, Zoey and Jonah clambered out of the backseat and rushed to the front door. Alan answered moments later and knelt down to hug his grandchildren.

“It’s about time you got here!”

They hugged him tightly. Jonah smiled widely. “What are you making for dinner?”

Alan chuckled. “I’m glad you asked. I’m making spaghetti and I need some taste testers for the sauce. I just don’t know who to ask.”

“We’ll do it!” Zoey volunteered.

“Sounds like I found the right people.” Alan ruffled their hair and stood up. The twins raced each other into the kitchen and Ethan and Olivia followed Alan inside.

“Something smells good,” Olivia noted.

Alan grinned. “It better! It was one of the first recipes Ethan learned how to make. His results back then weren’t nearly as good as they are now, but he learned fast.”

“Too bad that doesn’t apply to pancakes,” Olivia teased.

“Or dessert!” Jonah chimed in.

“He never did learn how to bake, did he?” Alan agreed,

“Nope. He always messes it up,” Zoey added.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “We’ve been here a minute and I’m already the topic of discussion?”

“Always.” Olivia squeezed his arm. A few minutes later, dinner was ready and everyone took a seat at the table.

“Jonah, Zoey, how’s kindergarten?” Alan addressed his grandkids.

Jonah smiled sheepishly, with the hints of pride in his eyes. “I got put in time-out today cause I woke someone up at naptime.”

Alan chuckled. “Has your daddy ever told you about his kindergarten time-outs? He had a few, if I remember correctly.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Alan confirmed. “One time he stole chocolate out of the teacher’s desk drawer. He even had an elaborate plan to get her to leave her desk.”

Olivia snickered, entertained. “That’s painfully adorable. How did he get caught?”

Ethan rolled his eyes, but his lips curled into an amused smile. “I wasted time trying to choose between the Hershey bar and the Snickers. When she turned around, I tried to get back to my seat but she caught me with a candy bar in each hand.”

“Such a shame. You could have gotten away with it.”

Ethan smirked. “Who says I didn’t? For all you know, I spent my time-out eating chocolate every time she turned her back to me. The plan wasn’t a complete failure.”

“Just when I thought the story couldn’t get cuter.” Olivia and the twins laughed out loud and resumed eating.

After dinner, they gathered in the living room. Alan gave the kids a photo album to look through, something they always wanted to do when they visited.

When they found the picture of Ethan as a child, his lips locked with the plush mouth of his teddy bear, Zoey giggled and held it up. “This one’s my favorite!”

Ethan cringed. “You remind me of that every time we’re here.”

Olivia grinned. “It’s a pretty fascinating picture. Little Ethan making out with a stuffed animal is pretty fascinating.”

“CPR.”

“Nuh uh, Daddy.” Zoey shook her head, tucking the picture back into the album. She and her twin continued flipping through the pages, amused with the pictures as if they didn’t look at the album every time they visited Alan’s house.

Jonah found Ethan’s basketball picture from middle school. “Daddy looks like a giant.”

Alan laughed. “He was the tallest kid in his class until his senior year of high school. Then he met someone taller than him and refused to learn the kid’s name.”

“How petty of him.” Olivia giggled. “I’m pretty sure these two are going to be skyscrapers, too.”

Once they’d looked through another album, Jonah and Zoey left the room to play in Ethan’s old bedroom, which now served as a room for them to stay in if they spent the night.

“We had another appointment yesterday to check on the baby,” Olivia announced.

“How did that go?” Alan asked curiously.

“We know now that she’ll definitely need heart surgery. She has what’s called an atrioventricular septal defect. She’ll be okay for a couple of months, but then she’ll have symptoms of heart failure. The good news is that the surgery has a very high success rate,” Ethan explained.

Alan nodded softly. “Well, you know that whatever you need, I’m there. I’ll watch Zoey and Jonah anytime you need to be with the baby.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

They stayed until the kids emerged from the bedroom, both visibly sleepy. Jonah tried to contain a yawn as he leaned against Ethan’s knee.

“Can we spend the night?”

Ethan shook his head and ruffled his son’s hair. “Not on a school night.”

“School is closed tomorrow!” Zoey tried.

“Nice try.”

Olivia stood up. “I think it’s time to start going home.”

The kids sighed but gave in and hugged Alan goodbye before they followed their parents to the car. Despite their insistence that they weren’t tired, they were both sound asleep before they’d made it out of Providence.

XXXXXX

Even though they spent most of their after-school time in the daycare for staff children, Zoey and Jonah knew the halls of Edenbrook just as well, if not better, than the employees.

When they  saw Bryce checking his schedule at the front desk, they rushed to the desk. “Uncle Bryce!”

Bryce grinned. “Hey, Double Trouble.”

Jonah pointed at the schedule on the wall. “Are you gonna cut anyone open today?”

“Two. I’m doing a kidney transplant. I cut the first guy open, take out his kidney, and then put it inside his brother.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Cool!”

Bryce laughed. “Sure is. What kind of trouble do you two have planned?”

Jonah glanced around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. “We’re gonna watch TV in the lounge. Don’t tell anybody.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Bryce assured them. Satisfied, the kids waved at him before they left, sneaking in the direction of the lounge.

They poked their heads inside to make sure nobody was inside. Then they dashed into the lounge and started perusing the available snack options. Once they’d picked out something to eat, they sat on the plush couch as if they belonged there.

They’d only been in the lounge a few minutes when the door opened and a confused-looking handful of interns stuck their heads in the room. One of them sighed and shook his head.

“Nope. This is the lounge.”

Curious, Jonah stopped clicking through the channels on the television.  “What are you looking for?”

“Uh… Dr. Ramsey’s office?”

“Which Dr. Ramsey?”

The intern’s eyes widened. “There’s more than one?”

Zoey hopped off the couch and grinned. “Yup! Our mommy and daddy. But Mommy usually goes by her old last name so people don’t get confused.”

“Uh… this folder says E. Ramsey.”

“That’s Daddy,” Jonah confirmed. He finished his cookie and pointed at the door. “We’ll show you.”

Looking simultaneously grateful and awkward to be accepting directions from five-year-olds, the intern looked back at the little group and nodded. “Thanks? We just transferred from another hospital, so we don’t know where anything is.”

“C’mon.”

Zoey and Jonah led the interns through the halls, knowing the way to the diagnostics office by heart. When they reached it, Zoey pushed the door open. “There!”

Ethan looked up from his charts and arched a brow. “What are you two doing, and why do you have interns following you?”

“We’re helping them!” Jonah explained.

“I mean, why aren’t you-” Ethan stopped, dropping the subject. The twins managed to escape daycare regularly enough that he knew better than to interrogate, so he motioned for the puzzled interns to step inside.

Curious, Zoey and Jonah lingered in the doorway to watch. When they heard a voice behind them, they turned around and smiled. “Naveen!”

Naveen grinned. “I think I need to put you two on the payroll.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage them.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they get where they’re supposed to be.”

“I presume you’ll be taking them on a detour.”

Naveen chuckled. “Would I do that?” With a wink, he ushered the kids out of the office. “I’ll tell you what. I think we need to go check out the new ice cream machine in the cafeteria.”

Tags, part 1

@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @junehiratas / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 / @oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers​ / @tefigranger​ / @jlynn12273​ / @laceandlula / @crazy-loca-blog / @somegdchoices / @briefdreamlanddream / @forthebrokenheartedthings​ / @lilyvalentine​ / @parkerattano​ / @drramseysownsme​ / @misswhit12​ / @drethanfreakingramsey​ / @juneiswriting​ / @macy-ray85​ / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk​ / @myusualnerdyself​ / @siaramsey​ / @takemyopenheart​ / @queencarb​

[jadegrey711]

It’s your Voodoo Working

Caliban x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m slowly getting through my requests and one of them requested I do another Caliban oneshot. Which i was more than happy to do since there is so little of him. I tried making it passionate but then a song gave me this other idea for him and i just love writing him as a mischievous little shit. 

Also apparently making something passionate means long as fuck. Also by the end of this I just wasn’t feeling the smut so i kind of cut it out. I’m not really feeling my writing very much these days but I hope you guys still enjoy this. 

Word Count: 2787

*NOT MY GIF*

Anon: Can you pls do another Caliban smut but maybe this time it’s like passionate as shit? Thank you, love your writing!!

Song Inspiration:

It’s your voodoo working - Charles Sheffield 

Feel Me - Mecca Kalani 

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

The very first time you laid your eyes on him, you had to admit he was breathtaking. You stood there in awe as he appeared before you and the rest of the Fright Club in a ball of whirling fire. Once he fully materialized in front of all of you, he immediately turned to Sabrina.

“Sabrina.” He regarded her with an easy smile.

“Caliban.” She regarded him in turn, her voice laced with ice. But his smile never wavered.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of you summoning me here, Sabrina?”

“My friends and I need your help, Caliban; in defeating a most foul eldritch beast.” Sabrina said, before she gestured towards us and you watched as Caliban regarded each of you. Starting with Roz, Harvey, Theo and then he turned his attention towards you; his mossy green eyes met yours and that lazy smile returned to his handsome face.

“Enchanted.” He purred as he drank you in and let the room sit in silence for a beat before he continued, looking away from you and back to Sabrina.

“You know my help doesn’t come free Sabrina.”

Sabrina outwardly groaned. “Name your price.” She said with a wave of her hand as if that’ll make him spit out his demands faster so she can move on with her life.

“I don’t require much. All I require is your name, fair maiden.” He purred, taking your hand in his before he placed a kiss upon your knuckles.

“Oh damn.” You heard Roz whisper beside you.

Sabrina however, looked extremely irritated. “Come on Caliban you expect me to believe that all you want in exchange for your help is my friend’s name? You must want something else. You can’t have Y/-” Just as Sabrina was about to say your name Caliban cut her off.

“I want her name and I want it from her own lips.” he said an edge of danger in his voice, before he looked back to you, his hand still holding yours in his grasp.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest like a bird in a cage and wet your lips with your tongue before you spoke. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He whispered your name almost reverently, letting your name roll across his tongue. “It suits you.” He smiled, and that smile made you feel like you had just made the biggest mistake telling him your name.

That first encounter was over a month ago and in that time Caliban was true to his word to his word. He had helped in any capacity he could to aid you in defeating this horror you all were facing. However, in that same amount of time Sabrina had figured out his true intentions for being so helpful. Word on the hellish grapevine was that hell had been lonely for the new king, since he and Sabrina had locked up dear old dad and he wanted a queen for himself, and was setting his eyes upon you.

Sabrina warned you, to stay away that he was the definition of a bastard and to not put it past him that he would not simply take his mortal bride like Hades did to Persephone. You tried to shake off the chill as you imagined Caliban rising from the cracked earth, his strong hands gripping you closely to his body as he dragged you to his kingdom of nightmares.

Also within that month you tried avoiding him like the plague, but it seemed no use; Caliban was everywhere you turned, like gum stuck on your shoe. He would meet you outside of your lecture halls, stay close to you at the academy’s library brushing his hands against yours, sometimes leaning in to whisper something close to your ear.

It was starting to become so difficult to keep your blood from not warming at the smallest of his touches, or even just the feeling of his presence as he walked into a room. You felt yourself going mad at each of those little touches and how when he would walk up behind you, leaning over your shoulder to see what your were doing; you found the temptation to just push your body back into his achingly warm one harder to resist. It was like he was working some kind of voodoo on your body, making it so you craved him, wanted him with every fiber of your being; until he didn’t need to wrap his arms around you and steal you away to his kingdom. No. You were going to throw yourself into his arms at the very mention of taking you away.

*****

Today he was working his voodoo again, he came up behind you and placed his hands on your hips. You tried not to moan out right at the feeling of his large warm hands on your waist, making you immediately conjure up images of what he could do with those hands.

“How are you today, lovely Y/N?” He whispered in your ear.

You steeled yourself before your answered him. “I’ll be better when you get your hands off of me.” you tried to say it with menace but there was no bite in your voice.

“Why would I want to do that?” he nuzzled his nose in your hair just behind your ear before he whispered. “I think my hands belong here and I think your hands belong on me. Don’t you agree?”

“No.” you said shakily. You looked around the academy’s library but no one was here, not even Sabrina. No one was here to save you from the eclipsing fog filling your head that was Caliban.

“Come on Y/N.” he said nuzzling your hair again, making goosebumps run down your arms and your back erupt with a spine tingling shiver. “Why do you keep denying what we have here? I’ve seen the carnal lust in your eyes from the very moment that we met, just as you’ve seen it in mine. So, why fight it?”

You steeled yourself as your turned in Caliban’s arms, facing him now; those moss green eyes focused acutely on your body. Taking in the way your chest heaved up and down with each deep steadying breath you took, your breasts barely brushing against his chest with every breath. He took in the sound of your heartbeat rapidly increasing as he kept staring at you, observing you, devouring the image of you.

“I know what you want from me. And it’s not just carnal, as you love to say.” You said, trying not to notice the heat radiating from his body, or the way your nipples were aching peaks as you gazed back into those jade eyes.

Caliban licked his lips, stepping just a hair closer to you and closing the small space between your bodies. “And what is it that I truly want from you Y/N?” he asked as he reached up and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Sabrina told me about you and your desire for some meek mortal bride. Someone to use and frighten for eons.” You said, trying to calm your increasing heartbeat.

“Do I frighten you Y/N?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked up in question.

“No.” You said, feeling the truth of it ring out in your voice.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He said before pausing for a breath, leaning down to place a small kiss against your cheek, and felt that small kiss shoot through your entire body like a lightning strike. “Sabrina has heard right, I am looking for a queen. But, you’re wrong about wanting a meek woman by my side, someone like that wouldn’t last five seconds. No.” he said as he placed another kiss but this time on the other cheek.

You should push him away from you, wipe his gentle kisses off with disgust but you couldn’t fight the increasing warmth that seemed to radiate deeper into your bones and soul with each small kiss he gave you.

“I wanted someone strong and fiery. Someone who would defy me at every turn.” He placed a kiss against your neck on your rapid pulse, making you gasp. “This makes me a bit of a masochist I know this. But, I wanted a woman, not a girl and when I first saw you Y/N, I knew instantly that you were that woman and from that moment on I’ve desperately wanted to see a crown placed on your head.” He finished, placing a kiss on the other side of your neck.

“Caliban.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip hard.

“You don’t have to love me Y/N, not now that’ll come in time” Caliban said breathily as his soft kisses on your neck became more desperate, and started to feel your resolve weaken as Caliban’s spell on your was finally working it’s magic on you. “Just let me love you right now.” Caliban said his voice husky. “Please Y/N.” That’s when you realized he was asking your permission. His hands were starting to roam over your body, igniting your even hotter as they lifted up your shirt slightly in their exploration, and skin touched skin.

But with one word from you, he’d stop; you knew that. But did you actually want him to stop? His large hands grabbed your ass by the handfuls and you knew that was most definitely not the case.

You reached up with trembling hands and dug your fingers into those luscious blonde locks, hearing Caliban moan as you gently pulled on them. His eyes never left yours as you nodded slowly to him, telling him exactly what you wanted; that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Caliban’s lips crashed against yours, and you felt his heat fully envelope you as you opened your mouth to his invading tongue, letting yours meet his in a dance of dominance. With your hands still deep in his blonde locks, you pulled him closer to you, wanting to feel every part of his body against yours.

Caliban’s hands roamed back down your back and ass until they reached the back of your thighs and you took that as a signal to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He smiled against your lips and starting walking away from the table you were originally by and closer towards the massive fireplace in the library. Without breaking the kiss Caliban brought the both of you in front of the fireplace and sat down on the rug in front of it, having you straddle his lap.

Caliban’s lips pulled away from yours only so they could attach themselves to your neck, placing soft kisses there before those soft kisses turned to harsh sucks. You craned your neck to the side to give him more access as you delved your fingers into his luscious locks. You felt Caliban’s hands roam down your back and gently squeezed your ass, making you smile before you felt his fingers grab the edges of your shirt and as they roamed back up your back he was bringing up your shirt. You helped him out by bringing up your arms and then your shirt was on the floor next to you.

You watched as Caliban took in the sight of your exposed body with such an intensity in his eyes that it made you blush all over. You watched with equal intensity as Caliban lowered his head to your breasts and kissed the tops of them, his hands reaching behind you once again to undo the clasp of your bra with ease. He looked mesmerizing as he watched it slip from your shoulders and you placed it with your shirt.  

Caliban started to lower his head again but you stopped him. “Wait.” You said biting your lip. “I want to see you.” You said as you grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted it off of him and watched as his shirt joined yours in the ever growing pile of clothes next to you.

You reach your hands out hesitantly to touch him, and heard a low groan come from between his plush lips as your hands rested at the top of his chest. You ran your hands down him feeling every muscle tighten as you explored his grooves and scars.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered. “If you truly were made from clay as Sabrina says, I think you were perfectly sculpted.”

“Oh, Y/N. I think you’ll be the death of me.” he groaned and suddenly you felt the sensation of falling and your head met with the soft rug underneath you. You watched as Caliban hovered over you, situating himself between your legs and drinking you in.

Caliban let out a small sigh. “I may be beautiful yes this is true.” He said, a small smirk growing on his face and you smiled at his arrogance, fighting the urge to give his arm a smack. “But my beauty is nothing compared to you and especially to you in this moment laid out before me like a goddess. I pale in comparison.” He said and lowered his head back to you neck and you instinctively moved it to the side to giving him more access to you. You watched in wonder as Caliban’s kisses started moving lower, kissing the tops of your collarbones, his tongue tracing down your sternum and to the valley of your breasts, his hair all the while tickling you as he moved lower.

You let out a gasp as you felt Caliban’s tongue trace circles around your harden nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. The sensation of his mouth around you and his tongue flicking at your nipple made your back arch into his mouth, desperately wanting more.

Suddenly, you felt Caliban’s hands on the tops of your jeans and began unbuttoning them as he began lavishing your other breast with the same devotion.

His hands were agile and he finished undoing the buttons of your jeans and began pulling them down; at the same time his lips were beginning to move further down your body.

You felt the heat in your body spike as you realized what Caliban was planning to do to you next. “Caliban.” You sounded breathy, as his name came out almost as a plea. You wanted him to end his slow methodical torture and just wanted to take you, make you his. But as Caliban pulled away from you and brought your legs up to start pulling off your jeans, you realized he had other plans for you.

He gently pulled away your jeans and panties all at once, being so gentle as he took your feet out of each one of the pant legs, before tossing your panties and jeans both to the side; leaving you completely bare under him. He kept your legs up and by his face and never broke eye contact with you as he took one leg and began kissing you, starting from your ankle and working down till he got to your inner thigh.

“Caliban, please.” You heard yourself beg. But beg for what? Him to stop or for him to never stop?

“What do you want princess?” he asked his voice a low growl, as he started kissing your other leg, working down it slowly placing kisses on your ankles, behind your knees, working to your inner thighs again.

“I feel like you’re torturing me. You’ve been torturing me this whole month and now now you’re killing me.”

You watched as he lowered himself to settle in between your thighs, feeling breathless and needy.

He smiled at you his eyes locking onto yours as you felt those soft lips kiss you intimately. “There’ll be no more torture Y/N. Once you’ve given yourself fully over to me you will only know bliss.” He murmured against your inner thighs, kissing down both of them before he continued licking at you; his tongue flicked your clit and you felt your back lift from the ground.

“Caliban.” You pleaded, digging your fingers in his hair, almost as if you wanted to pull him away or push him closer to you. “Caliban, I need you, I want you, I want to give in to you.”

With that Caliban stopped and pulled away from your quaking center, making you whimper from the loss of contact. His eyes seemed to glow with the intensity they held in them. “Do you mean it? Because if you do, there’s no going back. You’re mine and I am yours.”

“I mean it.” You say with a sincerity that surprised you and felt a smile bloom across your face as Caliban wrapped you up in him and sealed your fate.

[loveinterestcastiel]

sursum corda

Part one of a new canon divergent series, “A Sacrament to Be Taken Kneeling”

Summary: the opening dialogue to the eucharistic prayer, or anaphora, translated to english means “lift up your hearts”, and is the beginning of a devout worshipper’s holy communion with god

Canon divergent from 6x22, this one is rated M for religious blasphemy, power dynamics, and mature subject matter (later installments will be rated E for violence, sexual content, and graphic depictions of blood). Honestly this is just a fucked up exploration of the catholicnatural that could have been if the spn writers hadn’t been cowards and had instead really leaned into the whole Godstiel thing, and his dynamic with Dean. I’m going to hell for this and you know what? That’s just fine with me.

It can be read here or in AO3! Enjoy <3

Castiel was brighter than the sun, and he was beautiful. He was the most terrifying thing Dean had ever seen, because somewhere in there, he could still see Cas, the old Cas. He let Crowley go. Dean was going to kill that demon, but- later. Later, when they got out of here and got Sammy put back together.

Then Castiel blew Raphael up with nothing more than a snap of his fingers, and their most formidable adversary, after all these months, was suddenly just a bloody smear on the wall. The last Apocalyptic threat, gone, just like that, leaving Dean and Bobby alone with a Cas-gone-nuclear.

They were so, so fucked.

Cas looked over to Dean, his face softening incrementally but still distinctly smug.

"So you see," he said, turning away from Dean and moving as if to inspect his explosive handiwork, "I saved you."

Dean Winchester is saved.

“You sure did, Cas,” Dean said faintly, drifting further into Cas’s orbit as if somehow compelled. Castiel didn’t acknowledge him, keeping his back turned, his spine ramrod straight. Damage control. Holy fucking shit, damage control right now. “Thank you.”

“You doubted me. Fought against me.” He slowly turned to face Dean, a mockery of their first meeting in that rundown barn years ago, tilting his head the same way, his blue eyes the same limitless color and just as mesmerizing, but somehow about a million times more unsettling. “But I was right all along.”

Dean’s stomach swooped. “Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry,” he added quickly, his breath shallow and shaky. “Now let’s just defuse you, okay?” he suggested, the words cumbersome and heavy in his mouth.

Cas narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. “What do you mean?” he asked icily.

Dean forged on desperately. “You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe, so before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.” Oh, he felt like he was going to be sick. Please, Cas, please just listen to me…

“Oh, no, they belong with me,” Cas countered, his tone almost patronizing, like he was speaking to a child.

“No, Cas,” Dean interrupted before his brain or his fear could catch up to him. “It’s- it’s scrambling your brain.”

“No, I’m not finished yet,” he said firmly, with the ghost of a cold smile tugging on his features. “Raphael had many followers, and I must-” Cas paused, choosing his words, “punish them all severely,” he finished deliberately.

Bobby’s eyes darted over to Dean. He was visibly horrified.

Okay. One last effort. Okay.

Dean shoved down his fear and tried again. “Listen to me.” He stepped closer to Cas, swallowing hard as his voice fought to stick in his throat and looking steadily into his eyes. “Listen- I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge. But we were family, once,” he pleaded. “I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times.” Castiel’s face remained impassive but Dean continued. “So if that means anything to you- please,” he begged, abandoning his pride. “I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.”

Castiel wrenched his eyes away from Dean’s and cast his gaze down to the floor between them. Was he considering it?

“You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas,” he tried to reason. “Get rid of it before it kills us all.”

A beat.

“You’re just saying that because I won,” Cas mused, raising his gaze back up to look at Dean again, pinning him there like a specimen under a microscope. “Because you’re afraid . You’re not my family, Dean,” he said, closing the remaining distance between them until he stood less than an arm’s reach away, positively radiating power, the air vibrating with it. “You’re just… human.”

His eyes lingered on Dean’s face, tracing his freckles, his eyelashes. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. Castiel’s face hardened into stone, his next words iron. “I have no family.”

The words rang in Dean’s ears, banging about his brain and battering it into despair. It felt like a small death, his heart pulling on his ribs as he floundered for a new angle to pursue.

And then Sam was there, behind Castiel, and he just stabbed him with an angel blade, and Cas was swaying just a bit with the blade still stuck in his back as Sam gasped for air behind him, clearly distressed and stumbling backwards.

Dean froze, horrified.

What the FUCK were you thinking, Sam?

But- oh. Oh god.

Cas wasn’t dead. It didn’t work. His brain buzzed blankly with a static-y sensation of bewilderment as Cas reached around himself and pulled out the blade- shiny, clean, utterly free of blood- with an alarming squelching noise.

"I'm glad you made it, Sam," Cas said in a distressingly level voice, placing the newly-extricated angel blade on the table in front of him before turning to glance at Sam. “But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore,” he said, matter-of-fact as could be, as if he hadn’t just dropped yet another massive bomb on their lives. Sam looked to Bobby, his eyes wide, and Bobby shrugged back minutely, similarly floored.

Look at me, Cas, leave Sammy alone, you’ve done enough-

As if he heard Dean’s thoughts- fuck, was he praying?- Castiel turned back to Dean and met his eyes. “I’m your new God,” he said, with an air of authority and immense self-satisfaction permeating his words. “A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in the periphery of Dean’s vision as time seemed to swirl and slow down to a crawl- clearly, he hadn’t expected this either.

Sammy was strung out and swaying on his feet behind Cas, his eyes darting and rolling over the room as he rode out the hellish things that tormented him in his head, seemingly incapable of reacting to the gravity of the situation as what Cas had done put him out of his mind with fear.

In the span of a heartbeat, Dean made his choice. He had no choice.

He fell to his knees.

The crack of bone on hard tile was near agony. His gun clattered uselessly to the ground beside him as he shifted his gaze to land somewhere around the hem of Castiel’s coat. He couldn’t look at his face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. It was almost impossible to believe the terrifying figure before him was once his closest friend, and had saved him from Heaven and Hell alike before he had turned into whatever this was.

His throat was dry. He forced himself to swallow, drawing his tongue over his bottom lip as he tried to find the right words.

Bobby started to kneel, too. Survival instincts, probably. He’d have never gotten this old without them, anyway.

“My lord,” he began hesitantly.

The new God waved his hand dismissively at the title. “Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean corrected himself. Great start, you fuck up. “Cas, I swore my obedience to Heaven, once. To God, and his angels. To you,” his voice cracked as he risked a glance at the former angel. His eyes were like fire. Glowing. Unreal.

Bobby interrupted: “Dean, no-”

But Castiel snapped up a hand, palm out, and Bobby’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. “You will be silent,” Castiel ordered, his eyes never leaving Dean. He looked intrigued by Dean’s sudden compliance and admission. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, Dean. What can you possibly say to justify your lack of faith in me up until now? I could have cast you back into the pit, and Sam, too, had I not done this, all of it, for you.”

“I know you did, Cas,” Dean said. “Thank you. I- thank you. You were right, about everything, and I should have listened to you. I was wrong. I should have trusted you.” The words tasted like poison in his mouth. A part of him meant it. A part of him was just desperate enough to say anything. The rest of him wanted to see the cold monster in front of him dead. But how could he turn back now, without sentencing them all to death? If he played his cards right, he might even be able to save Castiel. Surely if he could get him to let go of those souls, he’d start to see reason, would be Cas again. But he was getting ahead of himself. Gotta think a little more short-term, right now. Band-aids and duct tape, not trauma surgery.

“I was blind,” Dean said, “and proud. I took you for granted, and I can do better. Be better. For- for you.”

He had never felt so weak. Groveling to his dad was different. He was his dad’s son, sure, but there was no love there. It was all survival, clinical, even his rage and his fists when Dean didn’t do enough to earn his mercy were detached. Duty and discipline and disappointment. This was different. It was hot with near-tears, messy and filled with grief for a man who wasn’t even dead. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told Cas he was like a brother to him. It was the closest comparison he had for what the angel was to his heart. He had never needed anyone like he needed Castiel- because he wasn’t Sammy, or Bobby, or Lisa, or Ben, or Cassie, or any other category of need. He was just Cas. And Dean wanted him in his life. Or he used to, anyway.

“I don’t know what I can do to make it right between us, Cas,” he said, his throat tightening slightly. “But I want to,” Dean offered, looking down in shame. “I want to be-” he choked out.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked, taking another step forward, the very picture of authority and control. One more step and Dean could reach out and touch him. The air was electric, heady with power as it positively radiated from his body.

He lifted his head to meet Castiel’s eyes in a pose of supplication, his knees aching, his eyes burning with tears as the situation started to overwhelm him. “I want to be forgiven,” he gasped out. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us.”

“And Sam’s betrayal?” Castiel inquired, casting new fear into Dean’s heart. “He stabbed me in the back. And he has not knelt as you have. Why should I offer him mercy?” he mused.

“Look at him, Cas,” Dean said quietly. Sam was hunched over on the floor in the corner, holding his head in his hands, rocking slightly into the wall and pushing off of it again in a strange repetitive motion. “He can’t follow any of this. I don’t think he even knows where we are. It’s been getting worse as time passes. He was slightly more coherent an hour ago, but-” Dean shook his head. “I think he was just trying to protect me. I don’t think he even knew who you were, just- saw a threat and tried to take it out.”

Cas made a noncommittal little noise, glancing over to where Sam had retreated.

“Cas,” Dean said, drawing his attention back to himself. “He didn’t know what he was doing. Can you try to forgive him that?” he pleaded as the first tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“And in return?”

“Anything,” Dean swore. “Just- Cas, please. I’ll do anything. I will, I swear it. Just please help Sammy.”

“It won’t be as easy as you think,” Castiel warned. “I want your trust, Dean. I want the bond we once had, and your submission to my better judgement, untainted by your... fear.” His voice turned hungry, reminiscent of when they worked that killer Cupid case last year and it turned out to be Famine. To be on the receiving end of desire of that magnitude was by turns exhilarating and horrifying. “I want your love.”

“Cas,” Dean said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from his friend’s face even as Bobby attempted to fight his holy gag order from his place next to him. “I… I’ll try. For you,” he added, trying to add a note or resolve to his voice as his thoughts roared in fear and grappled with the idea, stuck on the precipice of this terrible new unknown he had run up against. But he truly had no choice. Sink or swim.

“I swear, Cas,” he said, raising his hand to his heart, “I’ll try.”

Castiel’s eyes softened. They stopped glowing.

Suddenly, for a moment, he looked just like himself. More than that, he looked heartbreakingly human.

He moved suddenly, sending Dean’s heart sprinting again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

But he didn’t hurt him. He didn’t hurt Sam, or smite Bobby, or engage in any sort of holy wrath. He just kneeled, in front of Dean, and clasped his clammy hands briefly in his own warm, dry ones before shifting them both to his right hand and raising his right palm to Dean’s cheek, his eyes darting over his features with an air of disbelieving gratitude. It was so...

Castiel had lovely hands, Dean noticed. Strong, soft, and broad, with a gentle grip and long, agile fingers. So different from Dean’s own hands, already scarred from the last few years of wear and tear since his resurrection. Of course, he’d noticed before. Noticed that sort of thing about Castiel, how he used his hands to fight, to pray, to eat and to comfort, how they looked drenched in blood and how they looked at rest. How they looked striking a blow to his own face, and how they looked when he healed him. They were one of a million things Dean knew about him better than he knew himself.

“Oh, Dean,” he said softly, “That’s all I ask of you. Just try. Lift up your heart to me, and I will give you everything.”

Dean inhaled sharply, his chest tight as he leaned into the touch. "It's yours," he breathed out, "It's all yours, Cas."

Castiel smiled, and the world fell away.

Tagging in some people who I think might be interested, just dm me to be added or removed: @castieljew @dependsupon @autisticandroids @sunforgrace @heller-jensen @lateral-org @cactuscas @adhdeancas @icaruscastiel @holmesemrys @evermorecastiel @yana125 @faithcastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @i-sing-for-me @whatevr-4evr @sonder-stars @jeanne-de-valois

[fineosaur]

first line game 

thank you for the tags @littlerockerao3 and @salty-wench, i haven’t done one of these in a while and this one was super fun to compile (fair warning this IS quite long)

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns. choose your favourite opening line. then tag 10 of your favourite authors.

pieces of you stuck on me (but i’m careless and i’m wicked) -- a rickon x lyanna fwb multichap

He’d woken up alone, something he was often used to, but in the last months, he had grown more accustomed to waking up beside just one particular person. More or less a year if he was being honest with himself. But he wasn’t completely alone either, he was just alone in her bed.

we both coincide (when the world’s wasting time) -- a rickon x lyanna story that shows their relationship spanning over a few years

The moon is already out when he still finds himself at her side. She’s solid and warm in his embrace, swaying lazily with him to the strumming harp and the melodic voice that sing the words that seem to weave their way in his head, taking root as he tries to focus on just being there with her.

in the highlands of our dreams -- a single dad!rickon x lyanna fic that’s a lot on the softer side than my usual work

Most of his life had felt like there was an errant thumb on the fast forward button. At times he knew it had much to do with the way his thoughts often ran too fast, and even with long enough legs to chase them, they just kept their brisk pace. Other times, he wasn’t so much to blame. 

watch me wary -- a rickon x lyanna fic where rickon goes off the grid for a few years and has to come back to face his family (aka rickon’s apology tour)

“You’re late again, kid.”

He rolled his eyes despite the verity in the statement. Pulling off his helmet, he held a hand out to shake the shorter man’s hand. 

watch me wary (prequel) [title in progress] -- set in the stormlands 2 years after rickon leaves home and involves him falling in love with steffon seaworth

There was a feeling between relief and guilt that followed leaving home. Often times thought of as ‘running away’ or ‘disappearing’, at least ‘leaving home’ sounded so much more tempered. 

an empire for two -- a canon-divergent robb x theon & rickon x lyanna fic which involves established throbb and an arranged marriage for lyckon

It was warmer inside the castle. It always was; with the hot water from the springs running through its walls, the castle lived and breathed through each change of season, chilling winters and weeping summers, not buckling for any. 

where the stars do not take sides -- a oneshot set in a canon-divergent setting where rickon x lyanna spend a few last hours of peace together before they return to war

The snow falls around them rather gracefully. There’s often peace in the Godswood, and the distant howls of the wolves do nothing to deter from that. Though nightfall has come and its chill alike, they stand stiffly facing one another. 

be with you -- a rickon x steffon oneshot that shows their relationship as well as how they fell in love

The floor manages to feel warm despite the hour. If he thinks hard enough, he guesses that they’re one of the only two left there. 

His father’s office is littered in papers, stacks of words that blur into one with his boredom. Really what keeps him going is the way the man in front of him continues to push his mop of brown hair back, no matter how many times it falls back into his face as he leans over the glass desk. 

sight for sore eyes -- mixed pov which has tommen pining for rickon who is pining for lyanna — true heather style

There’s a moment of reprieve that comes once the moon has passed its apex. Its scattered light plays amongst the stars that pepper the sky and the hazy streetlights that guide them through the night. 

to feel like gold -- a lyanna x myrcella oneshot where myrcella chooses to indulge in a little rebellion with the girl that’s been on her mind for months

The room is almost too bright for her liking. It hardly fits her resentment. The brisk night air streaming through her windows suits her well enough, rippling over her arms in goosebumps as she feels the frown between her eyebrows deepen.

forest fires -- an arya x gendry oneshot set with a lunar eclipse and a brief moment of repose for the couple

The night’s brisk breeze doesn’t unsettle him like it used to.

It’s still cold though. The wind makes the hair on his arms stand up and he wonders why he hadn’t thought to wear a jumper over his thin cotton t-shirt.

help! -- a stark family -smutty crack fic- that involves ned and cat accidentally stumbling into each one of their kids in precarious situations with their partners

It almost felt like nothing had changed like her children were all still children.  Like they’d never flown the coup. But as she stood there, holding a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice, she knew that a lot had changed, that every one of her kids had grown up, fallen in love and were seemingly happy. It flooded her with such relief to know so, though the still gentle tug at her heart was there, telling her that her babies would no longer run to her begging to be held after a nightmare.  

it’s all hope -- canon compliant robb x theon oneshot that involves a love confession before theon sets off to pyke

Much like the fire within the hearth that beckoned him with its flickering warmth, he felt disquiet within himself.

The air felt thick, far more humid than that of the North’s. He could easily make out the Red Fork by where he stood, pulling at the laces of his tunic. It unsettled him, the rushing water, so fresh, unlike the brine of his home.

take one last look back-- a jon x satin drabble where the couple has a little spat in the car

The wind becomes distracting. With the way it whistles through his ears, blowing at those perfect curls of his, it even makes it abundantly clear how much his eyes sting.

When he leans back in his seat, his eyes meet the rearview mirror, where he can see his grey eyes, dark and stormy, the perfect juxtaposition to the gleaming sun that threatens a headache.

second nature -- a rickon x lyanna drabble that has a drunk rickon confessing his affections for his best friend, lyanna

She’s sitting in her car with one leg crossed when she sees him take a minute to check each side of the road before crossing. It’s 4 am, her car is really the only one on the road.

Her car is flanked on the side of the road and it’s completely unsurprising that his first instinct is to lower himself to her opened window and flash his stupidly white grin at her.

a troubled mind -- a robb x theon oneshot, after his parents’ deaths, robb overloads himself with responsibility and on the verge of falling apart he seeks comfort in the one person who’s always been there for him

He’s never gotten the opportunity to let it all get to him. There’s never been time for it. Not when there’s always been at least one other person that needs the safety his arms provide.

It’s part of being the oldest son, he tells himself far too often.

calmest wave -- an arya x gendry drabble, a post-show canon fix it where the couple are parents in the stormlands

The shattering waves could still be heard, breaking onto the rocky coast of Shipbreaker’s Bay, even from where they walked, with withered leaves crumbling underfoot.

There was tranquillity within the godswood, interspersed by the humidity carried across the Summer Sea and yet he still felt a breeze pick up, cooling him down as he gently held the small hand in his palm.

you were just dancing on your own -- an arya x gendry drabble where arya seeks comfort with gendry after a bad night

It’s still dark when Arya wakes up in her car; windshield covered in a think layer sleet. Her teeth chatter as she pulls her jumper tighter around herself, yellow haze in her eyes from the streetlights.

She’s in the passenger seat of her car, seat pushed back the most it can go. Her heater doesn’t work, no matter how much she bruises her knuckles against the vents.

high, high love -- an arya x gendry oneshot - set in the pieces of you stuck on me universe. after a few years away, arya returns to the man who she’s always loved

She had been back in Winterfell barely two weeks, in a way, things fell into place, though it was in the most disjointed way possible.

Arya found her footing, day by day, acclimating to the changes she had missed, she had to anyway; this was her family, and no matter how much they had changed, how many things she had missed, they made her feel like home, and she  was  back home now, for good.

stubborn-hearted blue -- an arya x gendry oneshot where arya moves into the same building as a man she had a fwb arrangement during her college days

She was still adjusting to life in the new city.

Arya hadn’t been in the Riverlands since university, and at this point, it felt like a lifetime ago, a distant memory, more like a dream. But now she had been back for almost a month and boxes still littered her living room, still waiting to be unpacked. between her new job and just trying not to pass out as soon as she was back home, there wasn’t much room for unpacking.

okay WOW i cant believe that managed to date back to over a year. this is pretty much a whole year of my writing summarised in opening lines. 

if it isnt obvious, about half of these have yet to be posted, but this was still fun to give a little teaser for those ones. 

i’ll be tagging @yanak324, @evax3, @selkiedams, @livhatesolives, @lightninginabottle0613, @watersandwolves, @estrangedandwayward, @jeynepoole, @sneetchstar, @treaddelicately, @bobafettsslut, @nalgenewhore

also, hi! enjoy! 

ps, i hope everyone is taking care of themselves and keeping safe x

[penn-dragon]

Tangled Adjacent AU

That reminded me I still have more parksborn snippets to post

Context: This is from what I lovingly call my Tangled Adjacent AU which is inspired by, you guessed it, Tangled. The basic premise is that after Harry’s mother died Norman became obsessively overprotective of Harry and keeps him locked away in Oscorp to the point that no one even knows Norman Osborn HAS a son, feeding him inflated stories that keep him scared of the world and ESPECIALLY the menace Spider-Man. Until one day Peter accidently stumbles across him and becomes determined to help draw this misinformed, sheltered kid out of his shell.

Peter pushed open the grate and pulled himself out of the vent, tumbling to the floor and knocking a stack of books over on his way down.

“Yowch,” he groaned, pushing himself to his feet and rubbing his aching head for a moment. “Not one of my more graceful landings, I’ll give me that.” 

He dropped his hand to wrap both arms around his sore ribs, lifting his head and coming face to face with… a teenage boy. A teenage boy who looked terrified and furious all at once. Peter’s eyes widened.

He was holding what appeared to be a microscope above his head, ready to strike. A nice one. Probably the first thing he’d grabbed when he heard Peter come in. Peter held one hand up in front of himself, keeping the other pressed firmly against his ribs.

“Woah there.”

“What are you doing here, Spider-Man?” The boy hissed. 

“Oh man—” Peter started uselessly, a little taken aback by the hostility. “I—uh— Look I didn’t mean to barge in, but—short version—I just got done beating a baddie, saving the day, you know the drill— Swung a little too close to Oscorp and had a run in with the security drones. I just ducked in the first vent I saw and ended up here.” He paused, glancing around the room. “... Wherever here is.” The little room looked like it was part of an apartment, but wasn’t recognizable as one of the few residential floors Oscorp had for it’s CEO and the small number of employees who could afford the rent. 

“Please,” the boy snapped, lifting the microscope slightly higher above his head, “you expect me to believe you ended up here by accident?” 

Peter wondered if his arms were getting tired holding that.

“I mean, I guess you don’t have to believe it, but why else would I be here?” 

“To inject me with venom and suck out my insides?”

He said it so matter-of-factly, even with the sarcastic lilt to his voice the suggestion was so ridiculous coming from a boy glaring daggers at him and holding a microscope above his head that it surprised a laugh out of Peter. The boy startled at the sudden sound, jerking back slightly.

“Seriously? These rumors have gotten so out of hand. I know the press doesn't like me but—jeez— Not only am I physically incapable of doing that, I really wouldn’t want to.”

That seemed to take some of the steam out of the boy’s engine, his grip on the microscope loosened slightly. Not off guard, but thrown for a loop definitely.

“Who even told you I do that?”

“My… dad,” he answered haltingly, like he hadn’t actually meant to say it.

“Who’s your dad,” Peter muttered, more to himself than anything, “J. Jonah Jameson?”

“No…” the boy trailed off, clearly not intending to continue.

“Well,” Peter filled in the silence with a short shrug of his shoulders, “I promise I’m not here to suck out your guts. So you can put that down—”  Immediately the tension was back in the boy’s muscles, holding the microscope ready to swing, “—or not.” Peter let out a short sigh lifting his left hand again to wave it placatingly. “Look you can keep that if it makes you feel safer, but I’m really banged up here, so I’m gonna sit. Please don’t hit me in the head with that thing, it would hurt.” Peter slowly lowered himself to the ground, scooting back so he could lean against the wall and shuffle himself into a semi-comfortable position. “Plus that looks like a really nice microscope, it’d be a waste to crack it over my skull.” 

Being given the high-ground—or maybe concern about the microscope—seemed to deflate the boy once more. He lowered his arms slightly, then let the microscope sink all the way to his chest where he wrapped his arms around it in a more comfortable hold.

“... It’s my favorite microscope,” he said after a pause. 

“No kidding? I can see why, wish I had one that nice. Mine’s a piece of second-hand junk from Ebay.”

“You like science?”

“You bet! Made all my own gear.” Peter held out his hand, folding his wrist down to show off his webshooter. The boy flinched back at the sudden movement, pulling the microscope further against his chest and retreating backwards to the mouth of the door. “Sorry! Sorry,” Peter called, tucking his hands under his armpits. “No webs, got it.” 

The boy continued to hover cautiously by the door. Now that his initial fire had calmed down he looked small. Mostly in a metaphorical sense, he was probably a couple inches taller than Peter, but he was skinny, and his jet black hair stood out in sharp contrast with how pale his skin was. His eyes, however, were a soft, muted blue that watched him wearily. 

“Do you… live here?” He asked, eyes darting around the room. It was definitely a bedroom… or at least, something close to a bedroom. There was a double bed pushed up in the corner, nearly eclipsed with stacks of books, notebooks and loose papers. Opposite was a desk covered in slides and petri disks where the boy must have been working when he stumbled in. The rest of the room was disturbingly bare. No pictures, posters, or any kind of memorabilia that would imply someone lived here. Nothing he would expect from another teenager’s bedroom. The boy didn’t answer, just continued staring at him from the doorway. As the silence stretched on uncomfortably long, Peter realized he didn’t intend to answer.

“What’s your name?” He tried again, tilting his head to study the other boy.

He didn’t get a response right away. After another stretch of silence under that unwavering blue gaze, Peter assumed he wasn’t going to get one. But as he dipped his head to check on his battered ribs, a quiet voice rose in the silence.

“Harry.”

Peter looked back up.

“Harry?” The boy—Harry—didn’t speak again, but he did avert his eyes for the first time since Peter entered the room, almost like he was embarrassed hearing his own name said aloud. “Harry,” Peter said again, testing the name on his tongue. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Spider-Man, you can call me Spidey.”

Harry looked back at him, clearly struggling to think of a response. Peter decided to spare him from thinking of one.

“Look, it’s clear my being here is… not so welcome. So I’ll just bounce.” He slowly stood up, minding both his injuries, and Harry still cowering at the door while trying to look like he wasn’t cowering. “I just needed to catch my second wind, so I can get out of range of the security bots before they turn me into Swiss cheese.”

“You fought the security bots to get in here.” Harry’s voice chimed back in. Peter turned his head to look at him. He was a step further into the room and there was a different look on his face. A spark in his eye that wasn’t there before.

“Yep,” Peter answered, popping the ‘p’ playfully. He turned back fully, curious to see where this was going.

“How were they?”

Peter tilted his head.

“Well they didn’t kill me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, obviously,” Harry snarked, “But i mean aside from that. How was their reactivity? Could you spot their patterns easily or no?” Harry moved forward and set the microscope back on the desk, lifting his hand to his chin as his eyes sunk to the floor and Peter was actually startled by how suddenly his demeanor changed. “I’ve been fiddling with them recently, trying to improve their efficiency—”

“Wait,” Peter cut in, “you built the Oscorp security bots?” 

Harry’s head snapped up, and he flinched back, ducking his head like he just realized he said something he shouldn’t have. He crossed his arms over his chest and suddenly his guard was back, and all the personality spilling out of him a moment ago was slammed back behind a wall.

“No, I— I didn't build them… Robotics aren’t really my thing… I’ve just been tinkering with them recently, as a side project.”

Peter watched him for a moment, wondering what he’d said to cause such a sudden shift, and how he could get that excitement back.

“Well, while they were trying to kill me it seemed like they worked pretty well,” he said, and Harry’s eyes lifted back to him, intrigue shining through in the blue of his eyes. “Little tip though, you should add a section in the coding that keeps them from flanking with each other. It seems like a good idea to surround an intruder but it’s way too easy to just duck out of the line of fire and watch them shoot each other.”

Peter knew very well that he was making it that much more difficult for himself the next time he had a run in with Oscorp’s security, but in his mind it was worth it when he once again saw the caution drain out of Harry’s eyes as he ran through Peter’s advice in his head.

“Hm,” he said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[rwby-diaries]

Happy birthday Blake!

The bestest kitty is up next! Blake was born on November 8th (Total Lunar Eclipse date)! This cute cat has had a lot of hardships in her life, but if there is one thing that’s absolutely certain, it’s that RWY love her to bits and always will!

Art piece sketch, background, and colouring editing by: @yang-diary

Line Art by: @thetopazvulpix

Coloured by: @catsofhorror

Shading by: @narwhalish 

Fic by: @lameclub

Edited by: @thetopazvulpix @yang-diary @jackedupjack

Fic under the cut!

"Why can't you just admit we took a wrong turn?!" Weiss' shrill voice echoes across the vast corn field. Ruby scoffs loudly as she turns back on her heels to face Weiss - hands on her hips with a slight pout.

"Because we didn't!"

Weiss scoffs in response causing the bickering back and forth to grow more heated. The two stragglers behind them giggle amongst themselves. Blake and Yang, not wanting to be dragged into the argument, walk beside each other at a steady pace at the back of the group. Both would occasionally glance towards the other with shy smiles before their gaze falls back to the ground shortly after.

Yang snorts as Weiss lets out a rather indignant shriek when Ruby blows a raspberry at her, "At least these two make for good entertainment."

Blake nods with a fond little hum as they continue to walk down the winding paths of the maze - nothing familiar seemingly jumping out to her.

As they pass by a separate path, in the near blind-spot of her vision - a low pulsating glow catches Blake’s attention. She pauses for a moment and looks towards it with a curious stare, but it wasn't long until its warm glow disappears behind the wall.

Almost on instinct, Blake feels her body move on it's own accord, her heart racing and her pupils widening suddenly. Blake could hear the bickering of Ruby and Weiss becoming more distant - but she wasn't thinking about that right now. Turning on her heel, Blake follows in the direction of where she saw the light go - leaving a confused Yang staring after her.

"Blake, where on Remnant are you going?"  She calls out only for Blake's head to turn back slightly.

"Something went down this way - let's go check it out!"

Yang pauses for a moment as her eyes shift in the direction of where the other two went - seemingly pondering on what to do. Blake could feel her ear twitch in the direction of where the light had scampered off to and shrugs.

"I can meet you guys at the exit," she tells Yang before she turns back around and darts in the other direction  - barely giving Yang the time to react. The other watches for a moment before curiosity gets the better of her and Yang smirks, chasing after Blake with a gleam in her eye.

As the two jog down the path, Blake does her best to focus on the small glow, as it would keep vanishing just out of her reach - much to her annoyance. For a few moments, the two remain silent and focused on the task at hand, but it isn't long until Yang couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Do you even know what we're chasing?" That question has Blake's left ear twitch under her bow and she glances behind her.

"Not a clue," she answers plainly as she suddenly picks up the pace. Yang quickly follows suit as they sharply turn at another corner and the world falls silent once again.

As Blake moves through the night with ease due to her excellent night vision - she doesn't realise how little she is interacting with her partner. She was so focused on her goal she didn't hear Yang's numerous attempts to grab her attention. It isn't until the third 'ahem' does Blake jolt at Yang's voice - it sounds so loud in her head.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Blake says, awkwardly laughing and scratching the back of her neck. Yang smiles at her warmly and waves her off.

"Don't sweat it - I know how focused you get." Yang says with an eyebrow raise. Blake giggles to herself as she covers her flushed face and finally looks around  - realization setting in.

“I...I have no idea where we are," she says quietly as she steps forward on her tip-toes and strains her neck in an attempt to see over the corn stalks. The maze around them seems to go on forever with the horizon stretching out of their view.

Yang hums to herself as she wanders around the small area, inspecting the different paths that lead in a variety of directions.

Yang shrugs, "Yep we're lost." Blake groans to herself while burying her face in her hands.

"Darn it, if only I hadn’t gotten distracted. I’m sorry Yang," she mutters, shaking her head and looking up at the paths again.

"Might as well keep going - we're bound to hear the other two eventually," she says quietly as she takes Yang's arm gently and the pair begin down a path of Blake's choosing. Little pumpkins dotted the sides of the trail - some painted and carved - likely by the local kids from around the area.

"I used to love pumpkin carving," Blake says, more to herself rather than to Yang beside her. The other tilts her head in Blake's direction, signaling her to continue. "It was a yearly tradition with my parents, during simpler times at least. I was eleven the last time I carved a pumpkin."

"Watch out!"

The pumpkin begins to roll off the table - causing Blake to shriek in horror as it falls. Before hitting the ground however, a hand catches it at just the last minute. A big burly laugh is heard as the pumpkin was placed back on the table.

"Be careful, my lil' puma," her dad says with a fond chuckle as he holds the pumpkin in place. "We don't have many of these lying around." He ruffles Blake's hair, who just giggles in response.

"Daaaad! You know I'm not a puma, I'm a Bombay and mama is a bur… a bur…" Blake starts but finds herself stammering mid-sentence as she stares down at the table, thinking intensely.

Ghira laughs as he pats her back "A Burmese, kitten," he explains and that causes Blake to jump up in excitement - nodding frantically. Ghira chuckles and kneels down beside Blake, as the two nuzzle each other's foreheads affectionately.

A small laugh sounds from behind them, "Looks like someone's excited for pumpkin carving." Kali smiles while taking the spot beside Ghira and crossing her arms. Blake nods enthusiastically as she slaps the pumpkin - it sounds like a drum.

"What do you want to carve into it, baby?" Kali asks, which has Blake pausing for a moment as she ponders the question. Pursing her lips, Blake reaches over and takes the marker carefully and sits back on her seat - humming to herself while inspecting it.

Both Ghira and Kali exchange soft looks between them before they sit down at the table and smile at their child whose eyes light up as an idea pops into her mind.

"I think I know!" she cries out as she sets herself upright and pulls the pumpkin closer in front of her. Picking up the pen marker on the table beside her in exchange for the larger one, she bites off the cap off it with fierce determination; but the moment the tip of the marker is pressed against the orange skin, Blake stops in her tracks.

"I don't know how to draw it," she says with a small pout. As her ears go down, Kali looks at Ghira with a small smile before she sits down beside her daughter.

"You don't need to be a master artist, my love," she explains while running her hands through Blake's frizzy hair. "You just need to try your best." Those words seem to do their job in bringing up Blake's spirits once more as her entire face lights up.

"What are you doing for your pumpkin, mama?" Kali giggles as she kisses the top of her daughter's head.

“As if I couldn't get any more stereotypical - I'm doing a tuna fish!" She answers her with a smile on her face.

Ghira let out a rumbling laugh beside her, "That's terrifyingly perfect for Halloween, ain't it my dear?" His teasing tone cases Kali to playfully jab him in the ribs. Blake could feel her stomach rumble at their antics as she hums to herself.

"Oooh tuna, my favourite!" Blake hums happily. Ghira nods in agreement.

"It's my favourite too, maybe we can catch some for next week! For an after-birthday celebration dinner!" He suggests with a smirk on his face and Blake claps her hands together in excitement.

"Sounds amazing, dad!"

Kali laughs warmly, "Going back on topic, what are you carving, dear?" She places her hands on Blake's shoulders, as the girl is practically thrumming with energy, and her eyes focus on her husband. Ghira stops for a moment as he thinks to himself and a serious look washes over his face.

"What do you think, Blakey, what should I carve?" He asks while turning towards his daughter who looks at him with big doe like eyes. Blake then proceeds to place a finger on her chin as she gives a thoughtful hum - her mind wild at work.

"You should make something super scary papa!" A devious look creeps onto Ghira's face as he leans on his elbow with smirk.

"Oh? But we already have you!" He says in a joking tone and Blake sticks her tongue grumpily but with no malice behind her actions. Ghira leans back with a hearty chuckle.

"I think my pumpkin will be a surprise!" Despite not fully being satisfied by that answer, Blake nods in agreement as she once again turns to her pumpkin, a focused look in her eyes.

"Then mine will be a surprise too!" She shouts out loud with a determined nod. Ghira and Kali both laugh to themselves as they accept her decision, and stand up.

"We'll give you space then, my love," Kali says as she pulls Blake in for one final hug but proceeds to blow raspberries into her neck. Blake snorts loudly as she pushes her mom off but can't contain the laughter that is rising up her body and escaping past her mouth.

As she is left to her own devices, several different ideas begin to bounce around inside of Blake's head - her tail wagging behind her. Thought after thought would rattle around but nothing seemed to stick or jump at her - much to her frustration. Groaning as she face plants the table before her and her attention falls elsewhere.

Spotting the slew of halloween decorations that littered around her house and several others, Blake sits up suddenly as she notices a particular one. A miniature, howling Beowolf animatronic with large fangs and smoky fur sits in the hallway. A grin creeps up her face as the pen marker is soon sketching the design on the pumpkin.

"Mama, papa! I'm finished!" Blake shouts excitedly as she runs over, tugging on her father's sleeve and trying to lead him in the direction of her pumpkin. Her dad laughs as he places his hand on his head and smiles.

"We're just finished ourselves, we're coming!" He says while tucking his own pumpkin under his arm. Blake jumps up and down before rushing off in the other direction, frantically urging her family to hurry up before sprinting ahead once more. Ghira and Kali smile to one another before following their daughter at a steady pace.

As they arrive back at the table, Blake's pumpkin is turned in a way that hides her carving. Blake plops herself back on the chair and pats the table while beaming brightly. Her parents arrive not long after and place their own pumpkins down in front of them.

"Do you want to go first, sweetheart?" Kali asks with the crinkle of a smile in her eyes. Blake nods as she eagerly taps her pumpkin, a big toothy grin present on her face. Kali giggles "Go ahead, dear, we're watching," she says with a look of encouragement.

With a small amount of effort, Blake turns the pumpkin around, revealing a rather choppy carving with random jagged points and no clear outline. Both of her parents glance at each other for a moment before they let out gasps of bewilderment.

"Wow darling! It's so unique!" Kali compliments warmly.

Ghira nods "I agree, honey - this is a true masterpiece!" He says as he takes in every aspect of her handiwork. Blake becomes quite bashful as her ears go down and she gives an awkward giggle.

"Beowolves are hard to carve, I was scared you wouldn't get it," she says, smiling. Kali shakes her head while walking over, ruffled Blake's hair before inspecting the pumpkin. Placing a finger to her chin, Kali hums in approval as she turns back towards Blake.

"A boo-wolf more like, very spooky!" She responds by playfully growling and hugging her daughter from behind and Blake lets out screams of laughter as she tries to wriggle out of her mother's grasp.

"Mama! That tickles!"

Kali eventually let's go of Blake and smiles down at her, her amber eyes swirling with warmth and love. "I don't think my pumpkin could ever compare," she says while turning around the orange vegetable, the careful carvings and details on the tuna fish has Blake lost for words as she stares.

"Mama, that's so cool!" Blake exclaims as she stares at it with her mouth agape. Ghira beside her whistles in admiration as he crosses his arms and nods - agreeing with Blake's statement. Kali softly blushes and leans up to kiss her husband's cheek, requiring her tip-toes just to reach him. Ghira's face mimics her blush, eliciting a giggle from her lips at the sight.

Blake looks up at her parents happily as they show affection to one another - it always made her happy.

It wasn't long, however, until Blake's attention was diverted somewhere else. "Come on, papa, you're next!" Blake calls out, gesturing to the pumpkin  that was still somewhat hidden away - causing the man to become rather embarrassed all of a sudden.

Kali's features soften as she places a tender hand on his arm, "Like I said to Blake, darling - you don't need to be a master artist--"

"--You just need to try your best!" Blake finishes with a smile.

Ghira finally brings his gaze back up to his family and a small fond smile makes its way back onto his face. "It might not be as much of a masterpiece as yours or Blake's, but..." he quietly says as he spins the pumpkin around with great ease.

Kali puts her hands up to her mouth with tears in her eyes while Blake gasps loudly.

Despite being crudely carved, the clear outlines of three people could be seen: two small stick figures with cat ears and a tail stand next to a tall, more squared figure.

Blake jumps from her seat "It's us!" She says loudly, running over to her dad who easily picks her up and hoists her onto his shoulder, keeping one arm over her legs for stability. Kali giggles as she nuzzles into Ghira's other arm.

"I love our family," Kali muses with purr.

Blake nods "Me too!" She says proudly, her tail wagging happily behind her. For the next few seconds, the trio embrace each other in total silence -  just enjoying each other's presence.  

Blake wipes her face and looks towards the sky, noting how much darker it's become. "Time flies when you're reminiscing," she muses. She holds her hand toward the sky and a soft glow lands on her finger. She brings it closer to inspect it, realization dawning on her.

“Wait, was I chasing a firefly before?” Blake asks, gaze shooting up from the tiny glowing insect in her hand. Yang chuckles, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

“Yeah, I was pretty sure that’s what it was, but I didn’t wanna embarrass you,” she says, still grinning. Blake huffs to herself, watching the tiny bug as it takes flight with a passing breeze, a silence falling between the two.

As they both watch the small bug flitter off into the newfound darkness, Yang tilts her head in the other’s direction, “You’re pretty close with your parents, huh?’’ Yang mentions with a smile, but it didn’t garner the reaction she was hoping for - as tension falls on Blake’s shoulders.

“I-I’m sorry you don’t have to answer--’’

Blake shakes her head frantically as she crosses her arms, holding them over her chest with a sigh “N-No I want to… It’s just a little hard for me,’’ she explains while staring on ahead - her body feeling heavy at the thought. Yang’s features soften as she places a reassuring hand on her shoulder and immediately Blake eases from the touch.

Blake inhales deeply before speaking “I-I left home when I was very young - on my birthday in fact,’’ the more Blake speaks, the more shame starts pooling into her chest.  All Blake was waiting for was for Yang to lash out or feed into her guilt - but to her surprise it never comes.

In fact, the hand on her shoulder squeezes it in reassurance and a look of understanding washed over Yang’s face, “That explains why you were so hesitant to let us know it was your birthday, huh?’’ She suggests.

Blake nervously gulps and nods “I-I… I just didn’t want to be reminded of it,’’ she mumbles under her breath as her hands fall to the side of her body limply “It wasn’t just me leaving that bothers me the most - it was the reason behind it.’’ Blake’s voice is shaky as she explains further, her mind becoming rather hostile towards her own self.

“The reason behind it?’’

Blake opens her mouth to finish her sentence, but finds her eyes wandering towards the stalks of corn once more - only to notice a figure standing not that far in.

A man in the corn?

A man with horns...

Adam?

Blake stumbles back, eyes going wide with shock. Yang reaches out and catches her, steadying the other as Blake’s eyes readjust to the gloom. A scarecrow. It was a scarecrow, not Adam. Blake sighed in relief, only then realizing that Yang is helping hold her upright.

"You okay, B?" Yang worriedly asks, watching as Blake's frantic breathing finally returns to its normal pace. It takes a few seconds before Blake could compose herself and she sighs.

"I-I… I thought I saw someone-- something." Blake quickly corrects herself, all while staring down the scarecrow not far ahead of her - an uneasy feeling nestled within her chest. Following her line of sight, Yang takes a quick glance at the figure and then back to Blake.

"I wouldn't blame you for being scared of this thing," Yang starts as she walks over, inspecting the scarecrow carefully and shrugging, "This fella is very poorly made - we have more goofy looking ones back at home!" She explains while flicking the scarecrow's head and it barely budged.

"I don't even think they're meant to be scary - this poor one just got the short end of the stick… literally!’’ Yang says as she gently kicks the stick holding it up with her boot before walking back over to Blake, a big grin on her face. "You have nothing to be afraid of, especially when we're together!" She says with full confidence in her voice.

Blake blushes, "It's hard to argue with logic like that," she mumbles while playing with her thumbs, smiling down at the ground. Suddenly, Blake finds herself overtaken by a new and funny feeling  - it flutters in her stomach and makes her nervous.

What was this feeling?

All Blake knows is one thing - she wants to be close to Yang. Without warning, Blake wraps her arms around Yang and buries her face into her chest, much to the surprise of her partner. After the initial shock wears off, Yang pulls Blake in and hugs her even tighter.

"Thank you, Yang."

Blake's heart is beating like crazy, finding comfort  in how warm Yang's body is - a welcome change from the nippy autumn air. The two don't move a muscle nor do they speak a word - Blake enjoying the peace she has been withheld from for the longest time.

Everything was perfect… until-

"Take that, maze!" Screams a  voice, knocking the two out of their daze and drawing both of their attention. The blade of crescent rose slices through the corn, revealing Ruby and Weiss - the latter of whom was standing there and shaking her head.

"I will slay the hay!" Ruby screams.

Weiss raises an eyebrow "It's corn, you dolt."

Ruby blinks a few times before triumphantly holding crescent rose up high once more "I will slorn the… corn?" When Ruby loses momentum halfway through the sentence, Weiss groans.

"You're honestly going to get us kicked out.''

Yang laughs, "I think she has the right idea!" She calls out with a smirk, as she wanders over towards the other two. Blake watches as the excessive chatter starts up once again but she can't stop herself from giving a wistful sigh.

"You need to stop encouraging this behaviour, Yang!" Weiss says while sticking her nose up and huffing.

Yang rolls her eyes and yanks Weiss in with the crook of her elbow, "Lighten up, Weiss!"  She teases much to the annoyance of the trapped individual.

Blake snickers, "I like Ruby's plan," she says and Weiss gasps while pushing Yang away and staring at Blake in mock betrayal. Ruby fist pumps the air with a quick 'woo!' with a grin painted across her face.

"Birthday girl's wishes are to be followed-"

Ruby stops herself and covers her mouth, shooting an apologetic look in Blake's direction. The other blinks for a brief second before she manages a short laugh - confusing the others around her.

"It's okay Ruby - my birthday wish is to slice our way through this maze," Blake says while placing a hand on her hip and nodding. Ruby sticks her tongue out at Weiss who just responds with an irritated huff.

"Feisty! I like it," Yang says with a wink while she readies her gauntlet, "I'd love to see that side of you more." She comments, causing Blake's cheeks to burn brightly and she was thankful that her friends couldn't see in the dark like she could.

"Onwards, Team RWBY!"

On their way out, Blake makes sure to slice up one particular scarecrow, leaving its head all alone on the dusty ground.