#expect it.... soon? this thing is flying onto the page lol

[wanderingcas]

this cas whump h/c fic is getting out of hand. including but not limited to the following reasons

1) i wrote 10k in the past 18 hours

2) i made up lore where cas and dean had really awkward unsuccessful drunk sex after leaving nora's house when cas was human

3) cas and dean keep crying

4) cas just went off script to propose that since he and dean have showed nothing but violence to each other the past week (first with the mark of cain, then with cas and the attack dog spell) that they show each other sexy tenderness instead

5) the way it's looking, this'll be another 10k simply dedicated to the long, drawn-out sex scene that apparently i'm going to be writing

so. yay? i guess?

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[myelocin]

baby steps | tsukishima k.

synopsis:  patience was a word that was both a struggle and a gift for you, kei, and your five year old son.

characters: tsukishima kei, you, your son

genre: fluff, family!au

wc: 1500+

a/n: hi nina lol

tsukishima kei wasn’t too keen on fixing messes all that much, but fatherhood definitely did pose the challenges in life he wasn’t expecting to take on so soon in his life.

then again, a difficult challenge was still a sign of progress at the end of the day. or at least, that’s what he always tries to tell himself. getting him to admit his struggle was the one thing that took you tooth and nail to achieve.

your husband was—is—a stubborn man.

he stood his ground with a resolution quite steadfast; usually, for the right reasons, but in moments like these it just infuriated you to no ends. but patience, thankfully, was one of your strong suits. you could read kei as if you were reading a summary of a book; where within a quick scan of the page, or in this case his posture, you already could grasp at the hints regarding the thoughts that must be swimming through his head.

and as you watch him, now: bent over and trying to reason with your son over a petty, very avoidable reason—you can only laugh when you could practically make out the veins that are forming at the side of his head.

you don’t really recall the context of what they were arguing about, but your son inherited your will to stand your solid ground in the middle of arguments. and unfortunately for kei, what your son inherited from him was his witty mouth and smart retorts.

“papa am not being stubborn!” you hear your five year old exclaim, and you could only stand in the corner and watch in amusement as kei shakes his head and gathers his patience with a long inhale, then a sigh, as he shoots you a withered look asking for help.

you smile at him and nod. go on, your expression says.

inwardly, you chortle at the sight of your kei practically deflating at the announce of his defeat.

“if you eat it now you’ll get a tummy ache,” you hear your husband reason.

a longing look from your son to the cotton candy cart a few feet away doesn’t fly past you, so when you look over towards your husband who is staring at you a little more intensely now, you relent with a small smile.

“you know,” you start, then walk over towards the pair to squat down in front of your son. “you should listen to your papa more because he knows what he’s talking about.”

the corners of his lips move into what you could safely guess is a pout, but before you could add to your comment, kei is already sighing, hands moving forward to fix the collar of your son’s sweater. you smile; it’s the same kind of dark green that the three of you are wearing. he has the classic mickey mouse ears on his head, and even if it looks a little too big on him in the moment—when he shakes his head with his stubborn no again, you could only laugh as the two ears shift with the momentum of its weight and move forward.

your husband beside you holds in a snicker.

“papa doesn’t know because he doesn’t like cotton candy.”

your son huffs and whips his head to the side, opting to face away from the both of you altogether this time.

kei sighs again, adjusts his glasses that have been in place the entire time before standing up to his full height and shooting you another look.

“wanna hear a secret?” you start. at the word secret and at the sound of your whisper directed towards him and specifically away from kei, your son perks up and tilts his head towards you, blinking a couple of times before he bashfully asks “what” in a soft voice.

“lean closer so papa doesn’t hear,” you whisper again, and behind you, you snicker at the sound of your husband purposely walking to the other side as to not interrupt your makeshift secret meeting with your son. once out of earshot, your son leans towards you, his hands on your shoulders and soft amber eyes staring straight at you, wide with the childlike wonder you’ve come to love so much.

“mama,” he whispers, cupping his hands around his mouth as he makes sure—in his own way—that it’s just you who can hear him. “what’s the secret?”

the feel of your son’s tiny hands fisting the material of your jacket around your shoulders has a smile promptly breaking out of your face. the look on his face; from his eyes to the tiny quirk of the corners of his lips looked just like kei’s, you muse.

as much as he is yours—he still truly is his father’s son.

humoring him, you cup your hands around your mouth much like he’s still doing and lean a little closer, as you whisper, “your papa used to eat so much strawberry shortcakes, he got a tummy ache from that and he couldn’t ride the rides he wanted to go to. that’s why he’s telling you to not eat the cotton candy until later so that you can have fun now.”

“papa ate too much cake?” you hear him exclaim, eyes widening to an even wider degree.

you nod, before biting your lips to hold back a chuckle as you watch your son attempt to process the information about his papa who always was the one to remind him not to eat too much do the very thing he told him time and time again not to do.

at this point, kei can only stand from a few feet away as he watches you try to whisper to your son with a volume that he can very much hear. still, he smiles, shifting his view promptly towards the screen of his phone when he notices his son peek at him to see if he’s listening into the secret conversation.

patience, kei thinks really is the one thing that he finds himself struggling with.

with parenthood, every day still felt like a day one. his son was growing. his views of the world changing; words evolving; feelings rising and diving day after day where a pattern isn’t promised. and truth be told, at first it terrified him.

reading about how to cradle a baby, change a diaper, hold their hand, and give advice was one thing—but actually applying it and changing tactics almost every day just to catch up with their growth was a completely different field.

but still, kei supposes that the silver lining in this situation was that even if his and your role in the world now was to hold a hand you brought into this world and help it grow with the world—day by day and change after change, the both of you were growing and learning too.

the truth is, kei realizes, as patient as the both of you were—your son had just as much patience as well.

like you were patient in the way you talk through his tantrums, or kei as he is willing to explain the concept of subtraction ten times in a row—your son, on the other hand, was patient in the sense that he still understood that his parents have short comings.

so when kei hears, “papa,” in the soft voice that he knows is from his very own flesh and blood, his heart swells. seconds later, he feels a hand latch onto his larger one and when he looks down and left, he sees eyes of a hue that mirror his stare at him with a smile.

“can we get strawberry shortcake and cotton candy after the rides?”

“you sure you don’t want them now?” he asks, smiling at his son, then at you when he catches you staring.

“issokay,” he hears his son whisper with a resolve that sounds a lot like yours. “am patient. will wait until after.”

beside your son, you smile. you feel his hand grab a hold of yours when you begin walking, and as you stare at kei—you offer him a smile back.

little, baby steps are what the three of you take. kei’s usually larger strides covering less ground; your usually brisk walk now slowed, to match the little steps of your son walking in between the two of you with both of his hands holding one of his and one of yours.

patience, you think.

it’s kind of a pretty word.

 -

[kiyoshi-02]

Betrayal

Chapter 1

Blood seeped from her body, streams of crimson that flowed freely from her limbs were quickly swallowed up by the wooden surface below her. The relentless thrashing waves continued to carry her battle worn dingy boat away from the sinking galleon behind her. Her breath came out short, her vision blurred as her mind danced a fine line between consciousness and succumbing to her extensive wounds.

Her creased brow deepened as she focused on the shadows gliding above her, high in the sky, as they finally focused on the birds that circled around and around. Their calls haunting, accompanied by the heavy rain and howling winds, as thunder and lightning boomed, the storm completely engulfing her in its chaos.

With one final shuddering breath, she shakily clutched the pendant once strapped around her neck, gritting her teeth and calling to the sliver of blue she could see begin to break through the swirling grey clouds. “I…I won’t die, you hear me!?”

Mere seconds later she lost consciousness and was soon swept away, the grip around her pendant never loosening.

-A Few Days Later-

The sun beamed down on the deck on the Going Merry. Clear blue sky accompanied by the cool sea breeze effectively kept the crew from suffering in the heat. Most of the Strawhat Pirates were enjoying the cold drinks Sanji had whipped up, while Luffy was already begging for seconds.

Nami rolled her eyes but smiled fondly at her captain's antics. She returned to her reading, flipping a page in the newspaper as Robin chuckled beside her when Sanji finally begrudgingly agreed to give him seconds, to which Luffy responded giddily by jumping on the cook’s back.

Sanji then spun around with hearts in his eyes, calling to the two women on board, that he would be sure to make them seconds as well. No doubt hoping to receive some sort of appreciation from the girls. This however only resulted in grabbing the attention of Usopp and Chopper, who both started complaining about the cook’s obvious favouritism, all the while Luffy remained hanging onto the cook, laughing away.

The final blow to Sanji’s patience was the muttering of the swordsman who was currently leaning against the side of the Merry. The second the word “Moron” reached the cook’s ears his mood did a one-eighty and he sent a kick flying towards the swordsman, who blocked said kick with ease and sent the cook back a few steps. Luffy at that point had hopped off of Sanji’s back to join Usopp and Chopper.

With a clenched jaw and pissed off expression the whole scene ended with a swift kick from Sanji to silence the three other crew members that were still complaining, leaving them lined up on deck with large bumps on their heads. Sanji lit his cigarette, taking a frustrated puff. “Shut the hell up already! I’ll go make your damn drinks, geez.” He finished before turning around and making his way back to the galley. Luffy cheered after him, smiling wide as Usopp and Chopper joined him in his clapping and cheering.

Things calmed down after that as the crew returned to their own activities. Robin had since stood up to go and retrieve a different book to read while Nami had almost finished reading the newspaper. Zoro remained where he was but settled down against the Merry and had started to doze off as Usopp was showing Luffy some of the new additions to his ammunition.

Chopper had gone below deck and reappeared with his bag full to the brim of medical supplies. He settled himself down on the opposite side of the Merry to where Zoro was now fast asleep. He got to work on stocking up on Rumble Balls before Sanji finally returned out on deck with the promised second round of drinks.

A short while had passed with not much to report on before suddenly Zoro rose from his slumber with a slight start, grabbing Wado as Chopper’s nose twitched at a familiar scent. The soft ‘thunk’ that had woken Zoro before, repeated a few times as Chopper voiced his thoughts.

“I smell blood.”

That had caught the attention of everyone on board the Merry, aside from Sanji who was currently making dinner preparations. “Blood?” Usopp asked, sniffing the air, “I don’t smell anything,”, followed by Luffy, who took a comical inhale, his nostrils stretching inhumanly large. “I smell it too!” Luffy announced as he stood up, his nostrils in the same position as he followed the smell, heading towards where Chopper was seated.

Chopper followed along with Luffy’s actions, but made a lot more progress in finding the source of the blood. Jumping up, Chopper leaded over the side of the Merry and within the span of three seconds let out a shrill scream. Everyone jumped at the sound, Sanji kicking the door of the galley open, yelling out, “What’s going on?!”

“There’s someone down there!” Chopper called, grabbing his bag and jumping over the side of the Merry. “Chopper wait!” Nami called after the Doctor, a few of the others echoing her calls. The rest of the crew crowded around the side of the Merry, looking overboard to what Chopper was so frantic about.

Stuck to the side of the Going Merry was a small row boat, battered and half submerged in the water. The crashing waves kept it against the larger ship, a young girl it’s only occupant along with a single bag. She was beaten and bloody, skin pale and cheeks sunken, her lips dry and cracked.

Chopper made quick work of checking her over, making a quick assessment of her condition before calling up to the rest of the crew. “She’s hurt really bad guys! Luffy, help me get her up on deck!” Luffy was about to comply, rolling his shoulder and getting ready to stretch his arm down when Zoro’s voice suddenly boomed, “Chopper! Watch out!”

Suddenly there was a blade against the doctor’s neck, he froze in that instant, his back still to the girl who had sat up without warning. “Who are you?” The girl spat out harshly, her voice strained and weak, a murderous glare on her face as she addressed the doctor. Zoro shifted forward, drawing his sword, ready to dive down to Chopper’s aid before being stopped by Luffy.

Wordlessly Zoro leaned back and watched with the rest of the crew as they waited to see how the situation would unfold.

Chopper flinched at her words, gulping before answering, “I-I’m a doctor. You’re hurt and I want to treat your wounds.” His voice grew more serious as he spoke, her determination to treat the others wounds far overpowering his fear of her. The girl simply stared at him, evaluating his words as her breath came out in harsh puffs. Her gaze shifted up towards the others, one look at them and it wasn’t hard to deduce that they were pirates.

Her eyes met with a set of ferocious ones, a clear message of warning and a promise of death vocalised in those striking grey eyes. It was then she noticed the sword that was at the ready by his side. They both narrowed their eyes at each other before the girl noticed another intense stare bore into her. Her gaze shifted to a boy in a straw-hat. His expression was blank and unreadable but calculating.

It wasn’t hard to conclude that she was outnumbered. She looked back to the self proclaimed doctor and took into account the sincerity in his eyes. He clearly did want to help her, she thought to herself before letting out a deep sigh while putting down her weapon.

“Sorry about that then,” she said to the doctor, “I’m just a little on edge, didn’t mean to scare you.” Her expression changed to a much softer one and she sent him a small apologetic smile towards Chopper. The Doctor visibly relaxed at her words, even more so with the absence of a giant knife against his neck.

“So you’ll let me treat you?” He asked hopefully. The girl simply nodded, letting out a short chuckle, “If you really want to, I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” She joked, her shoulders relaxing as Chopper laughed happily. “Great! Let’s get up on board the ship and I’ll treat you right away! That okay with you Luffy?” He said before looking back up towards the ship’s occupants.

After a beat Luffy smiled down at his ship’s Doctor before smiling and letting out a short chuckle. “If that’s what you wanna do Chopper, I’m fine with it!” He spoke before stretching an arm down to help the two on board.

The girl sent an apologetic bow of her head, with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that!” She called up before being helped up onto the ship, bag and all following behind her. Once her feet met the deck of the Merry, her knees buckled, resulting in her needing to lean back against the railing behind her.

Her vision was a little foggy, the adrenaline that had fuelled her previous actions slowly leaving her body. She looked back up to the group of people that had agreed to help her but all she saw was blotches of colour and fuzzy outlines of what she assumed were people. Only then did she notice that the little Doctor from before was asking her something. That however was soon drowned out by a ringing in her ears.

It didn’t take long before she once again lost consciousness and tumbled forward, expecting to hit the deck hard, the last thing she registered was a welcoming warmth and a firm secure hold around her body as she finally blacked out.

Hello hello, hope you enjoyed so far, please feel free to share any feedback you have and thank you for reading! <3

I will be continuing the Gaara fanfic I started but I just wanted to start something new after coming back to writing after a few months lol

[fallingappleshurt]

im in the mood for angst, so for your dff au, could you please writing a one shot or smth along those lines of techno coming home from a particularly tough duel and everybody else’s reactions? ty!!! <33

YES HELLO I WRITE

Yes Hello I’m a writer and I forgot about asks but here we go!! I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s really bad but here it is!

This is very poorly edited I’m so sorry lol, this takes place in my dff AU! It’s spunky

And it’s been awhile since I’ve written for this AU so things are a little weird, kind of missed the angst but I got ideas don’t worry

TW: violence, fighting, description of injury but nothing too graphic I think

Dicey Nights

Sword in hand, solid stance, deep breath. He could do this.

Techno tapped his foot anxious against the cement floor, waiting for his opponent to climb over the ropes and enter the arena. The air was thick and hot from the muggy night’s humidity and the crowds incessantly loud cheering. The arena was dimly lit around the stans, all light coming from a giant overhead, casting grimmy light over the blood splatters that stained the rough concrete.

His opponent entered the ring, eyes flashing in the light, lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin. Techno’s anxiety shot from his stomach to his heart, this man was like a tank, tall with bulky limbs and long flat sword.

Techno pushed his worries away, he had taken on opponents bigger then himself before, just not that big, but they needed the money, he had to win this.

They both walked to the middle of the platform, shook hands, the other man gripping too tightly to be friendly, then they turned and walked back to their starting places.

The buzzer sounded and the man shot forwards, sword swinging in an arch, Techno’s sword clashed with his, metal screeching pierced the air as the man tried to overpower Techno, putting his weight on the sword.

Techno kicked him in the knee, the man sputtered and slipped, allowing Techno to dodge to the side then ram into the man, sending him to the ground. He moved to slash his sword at the man’s neck and fake out the audience then the duel finished, quick and easy if the man stayed down for the three count.

Suddenly the man lashed out and landed a kick square into Techno chest, sending him reeling. Techno scrambled to his feet, stifling a groan. His ribs protesting vehemently, sending shockwaves of fire through his chest, he watched as the other man rolled back onto his feet.

The man, Techno heard the crowd cheering ‘Go Thrasher!’, ran at him again, opting to not overpower him but overwhelm him, he swung wildly, he obviously never had any training.

Techno took the defensive, slash, stab, dodge, block, kick back, and repete, analyzing Thrasher’s fighting style, his patterns and goto movements. Once he memorized the motions he switched to offense, changing his own patterns as well, quick slashes and jabs, forcing Thrasher back, Techno would kick at the man’s legs then go back to swinging.

In a ditch effort Thrasher whipped his sword around only for Techno to kick it out of his hands, sending it flying. Techno slammed into the man once again, taking advantage of his distraction, and knocked him to the ground.

He pointed his sword at the man’s neck, looking down the blade at Thrasher, the crowd around him screaming, “Go Blade go!” He tried to keep his face emotionless, waiting for the announcer to call it off.

Thrasher wasn’t giving up, he kicked at Techno again, who half dodged half stumbled away. Thrasher moved faster then Techno had even seen, Techno lashed out, slicing his arm but it didn’t faze Thrasher. Rage blazing in his eyes he jumped on Techno and knocked him to the ground, half pinning him, a knee on one of Techno’s arms, knocking his sword away.

Thrasher punched him across the face, Techno’s head jerked to the side, pain flaring in his face, nausea rising in his gut as the man reared back and hit him again and again.

Techno weakly grabbed for his sword but came up short, his vision was blurring, hot blood dripped down his face, matting his hair. In a last ditch effort, he threw a punch, aiming for Thrasher's throat, he hit his target dead on and hard.

Thrasher gasped and faltered, his grip loosen and Techno took his chance. He yanked himself away and sent another kick to the man's chest, scrambling towards his sword.

He didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t win this, the adrenaline would wear off soon and he’d lose, he wouldn’t be able to fight after this, he’d have to go home empty handed. That thought alone made him feel even more sick.

Thrasher rose to his feet, breathing heavily, Techno got into a weak stance, prepared to go down fighting. You weren’t allowed to kill in the duels but Techno was scared Thrasher would chuck those rules out the window. Thrasher’s fists were clenched, cracked and bloody at his sides, fire in his eyes, he let out a roar. Techno’s grip on his sword tightened and he prepared to swing-

The buzzer sounded.

The fight lasted 10 minutes, the announcer called it a draw. The audience booed and complained as Techno went to shake hands with Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at Techno’s hand in disgust before slapping it away, “You fight dirty, freak.” He growled, Techno scowled but bit his tongue and flipped Thrasher off and stalked off as dignified as he could with the room spinning like a toy top.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the sidelines and chugged it when one of the organizers threw a small pouch at him.

“You’re off your game,” The women commented lazily, not looking up from her clipboard, “I expected better.”

“Then you hop on in there,” Techno grumbled, not making eye contact as he pocketed the pouch, he sheathed his sword.

“I’d rather die,” She said, eyes flickering up from the page, “Just like you almost did.”

Techno snorted, “Please,” He said, shouldering his bag and walking towards the bathrooms, “I neva die.”

He somehow managed to get to the bathroom without collapsing, he pushed open the door and stumbled over to the sinks. He gripped the edge tightly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, he looked up at the mirror and realized he was fucked.

There was a gross cut on his hairline, trickling blood down his face, the right side of his face was covered in blooming bruises, blood from his nose smeared down his chin, he looked like a mess.

He felt like a mess.

Techno grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet then scrubbed it against down his chin and along his hairline, ignoring the sting. He dried his face off then filled up his water bottle, dreading the fact that he couldn’t hide this from his family. He hoped to get home before Wilbur or Tommy woke up, he knew he couldn’t avoid Phil, he got up extra early to be able to commute to work.

Techno started home, not bothering to stay for any other duels, he wouldn’t be able to win, not in the state he was in anyways. He squeezed past the security guards and tried not to fall while walking, the trip home only should have been around forty minutes but between his slow pace and stopping to take breaks so he wouldn’t pass out it took him over 2 hours to get back.

The rusty metal stair squeaked as Techno climbed them, they groaned as he put his weight on the railing, god he wanted to lay down.

He unlocked the door, trying to push it open as quietly as possible, of course the door made that impossible as it creaked loudly.

The door cast a shadow on the soft light coming from the kitchen, Techno could hear dishes clicking quietly.

“Hey Tech,” Phil said, as Techno locked the door again, “You’re back later then usual-” He stopped, staring at Techno’s face, Techno immediately put his hands up, “Now I know what you’re thinking but let me just say; it’s not that bad.”

“Sit,” Phil said, setting his coffee cup down, Techno rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. “Yeah I saw that coming,”

“Please tell me the other guys looks worse,” Phil prodded at the bruises on Techno’s face, Techno shrugged.

“Please tell me you didn’t get your face fucked up for nothing,”

“I hope? I mean I got a few good hits in, oh that reminds me,” Techno leaned over, rummaging through his bag for money pouch,

He immediately regretted it because it made the room spin again. He grumbled but found the pouch and tossed it on the table.

”It’s not a lot but it’s something,” Techno trailed off, he could have stayed longer, fought harder, been more useful but a few bruises sent him running back home. “I can go back tomorrow, get us more-”

“What? You’re not going back, you look like shit!” Phil said incredulously, checking the cut along his hairline,

“But we need the money,”

“We’ll get by,” Phil’s eyes narrowed, mouth in a tight line.

“That’s a lie-”

“No it’s not,”

“Phil I’m not stupid we need more and I can go back, tonight was just an off, when I go back I can get us more-”

“You’re not going back!” Phil said firmly, “You’ll get hurt again-”

“It’ll be worth it-”

“No! It’s not! Nothing is worth you getting this hurt!” Phil snapped, he took a breath, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry it’s- it’s just not worth it, you need to be okay too, you deserve to be okay.”

Techno sat there, not sure what to say. Phil looked at the clock and swore under his breath, “Shit, I’m gonna be late,” He grabbed his coat, “I’ll see you later, take it easy, alright?” Techno nodded as Phil walked out the door.

He sits there for a minute, not sure what to do, he wants to sleep for 45 hours but he is also hungry. He opted to grab a banana when he hears Wilbur yell from the other room;

“Tommy brush your hair!” The bedroom door opened, “No! It looks fine!” He didn’t notice Techno as he walked into the bathroom, Wilbur followed him out a moment later.

“Hey Wil,”

“Hey Tech, you're up earlier and oh my god are you okay?” He trailed off to the next point, gesturing gingerly at Techno’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise,” Techno said again, putting his hands up and rolling his eyes. Wilbur nodded, they stood there for a moment before Wilbur asked;

“Did Phil flip out?”

“Oh yeah definitely,”

“Well, at least something’s normal,” Techno snorted.

“Hey Wilbur, we’re low on toothpaste again-” Tommy said, coming out of the bathroom, he looked at Techno and trailed off.

“Uh, Techno, You’ve got a little something,” Tommy gestured to his own face, hand hovering over the whole right side, “on your face, like everywhere.”

Techno snorted and smiled softly, “Thanks for telling me nerd,”

“What happened?”

“Not important,” Techno said, grabbing an orange from their fruit bowl, tossing it at Tommy, who caught it with ease, “What is important is that you’re gonna be late for school, now get going.” He hadn’t told Tommy about the arena fights, he didn’t know how Tommy would react and he didn’t want to encourage it or risk it.

“No I’m not, you’re just avoiding the question!” Tommy protested, jamming his finger into the skin of the orange.

“You sure about that?” Techno nodded to the clock on the wall, 7:06.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Tommy said, Wilbur slapped the back of his head, “Language,”

“What come on! You say it all the time!”

“Yeah cause I’m older then you, now grab your shit,”

“Now you're just rubbing it in!” Tommy said, grabbing his backpack off the hook by the door.

“You’re right, now let’s go, I’ll walk to you,” Wilbur stopped in the doorway, Techno could hear the creaks of the stairs as Tommy jumped down. Wilbur looked at Techno, eyes soft.

“Go to sleep Tech, you look like you need it,”

“Well I was going to but now that you said that, I think I’ll stay up,” He teased, Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“If you aren’t asleep by the time I get back I will crush you,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Techno shot back as Wilbur closed the door, locking it.

The banana forgotten and set back on the counter, Techno slipped his shoes and laid down, hoping the others wouldn’t worry too much, he fell asleep almost immediately.

[cheeriecherry]

Birds Of A Feather [4/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swearing, a kiss

Part 4/7

By the end of the week, you’re walking into Hawks’ penthouse with nothing but a duffel bag of clothes. Most of your stuff had been moved to storage, but you’d told him you’d bring your own sheets, blankets, and pillows for the couch. He’d stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

He’d then gone on a tangent about how he had guest rooms, obviously, and how his sheets would be softer than yours. He’s probably not wrong, with his 1200 thread count egyptian cotton, but the way he says it ruffles you a bit. You don’t mention it, though. You don’t want to give him any kind of reason to kick you out.

“Hey chickadee, you gonna stand in the entrance all night, or are you gonna come in?”

You snap out of your stupor when Hawks calls to you, and continue lugging your things through the door.

The inside of the penthouse is beautiful; tastefully decorated (probably professionally), and it’s spacious rough that you could spread your wings out fully. The doorways are wider than average, likely catering to your boss’ specific needs. The entire place is gorgeous, immaculate even, and any person in their right mind would kill to live here.

You kind of detest it.

“I had some people come in this afternoon and set up the guest suite for you,” he says, kicking off his boots and flopping onto the couch. “They also brought some of your uniforms in from the agency, so you can change here. You won’t have to go in so early.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, and you mean it. Personal opinions aside, he’s let you into his home out of kindness. You’ll not soon disrespect that.

“Ah, you’re standing and staring again. Are you that impressed with the place?”

You snap back to attention for a second time, and hike your bag further up your shoulder. “I-it’s not that!” you try to explain, “I was just expecting something...different?”

Hawks sits up on the couch. “Whadya mean?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “More lived in, I guess? Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful here, especially the balcony, but it’s also very...what’s the word…”

“Mature and charming?” he tries, but you shake your head.

He offers a few more suggestions, things like ‘perfect’ and ‘homey’ and ‘colourful’, each word hitting further and further from your mark.

Then it comes to you. “Monotone and sterile!” you nearly shout, your success momentarily quieting your desire to be polite. “It’s like it’s fresh out of a magazine, or a model home. Don’t take it the wrong way, Boss, I’m not hating on your tastes, but if I’m gonna be staying here indefinitely, I’m gonna have to add some personal touches.” You remember your manners. “If that’s okay…”

You worry that you may have offended him, with the way he’s looking at you, but a smile slowly spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling.

“Finally,” he sighs, “someone who speaks their damn mind.”

“Eh?”

“Do you know how many of the people I’ve invited here tell me ‘how beautiful’ it is?” He adjusts his wings and settles comfortably back into the couch. “All of them. Every single one. And look, I’m grateful that I’ve got this place, but it’s just a house. No sentimentality, no memories...just a space.”

“Well...it’s polite to not insult someone’s home when they invite you over…” you mumble, the severity of your outburst making your face heat up.

“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe they’re all schmoozing and hoping to get on my good side.”

The bitterness in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you decide to leave it be. He should be free to be himself in his own home, and not have to put up any kind of front. You hoped he’d supply you the same courtesy, when you inevitably would wake up on the wrong side of the bed some mornings.

“Anyways,” he flips the TV on and tosses the remote to the side, “it’s late. You should probably unpack your stuff before you’re too tired.”

“Yeah…” you realize how wiped out you are as the weariness starts to settle in. “I’ve got tomorrow off though, so...if I wake up on time, I’ll bring you curry.”

You can hear him cheering as you walk down the hall to the guest room, and you smile. You’ll never understand his love for chicken, even though his enthusiasm boosted your confidence.

The room is spacious and airy, and has a beautiful view of the city. The bed itself is probably big enough to hold three people, and you’re silently grateful that your wings won’t be hanging on the floor while you sleep anymore. 

You set your bag down by the door, and flop face first onto the mattress. God, it was the most plush thing you’d ever had the pleasure to lay on.

“I’ll unpack tomorrow,” you mumble, sinking further into the sheets and, eventually, sleep.

In the distance, you hear Hawks snoring.

----

You wake up the next day to sunlight hitting your face. It’s bright, and annoying, and too warm, and your bed really wants you to keep sleeping but you don’t think you can.

You sit up.

You can feel that your hair is a disheveled mess, and your tongue feels gummy and sour.

“Blegh.”

You (regrettably) roll out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to fix your morning vibes, checking the time along the way. Ten is later than you would have liked to wake up, but you suppose you really needed the sleep. And you did, surprisingly, feel more rested than you had in months.

It’s ten thirty by the time you’re done in the washroom, overall energy more put together and presentable, and you waste no time heading for the kitchen.

The kitchen which is...painfully under-stocked. A couple of condiments and wilting vegetables in the fridge...some frozen meat in the freezer...a bag of rice under the sink, for some reason, and...a completely full spice rack, every bottle unopened.

You knew your boss didn’t spend a lot of time at home, but this was just sad. 

You make a mental note to go shopping later.

Thankfully he seems to have the necessary ingredients for chicken curry, which you’re happy about. It means you won’t have to brave the store just yet.

Bit by bit, you pull out what you need in order to cook, only sitting down when you have a moment to spare as the rice cooks.

‘Hey Boss, I’m making curry for lunch. Want me to bring you some?’

You send him a text. It’s still fairly early, and you know he has his meetings in the morning, so you doubt that he’ll get back to you before-

Your phone buzzes.

‘Chickadee, you sure know the way to my heart. I’ll leave my office window open.’

You send him a thumbs up emoji.

----

Once the food is finished, you pack it up into two containers, opting to leave the rest in the pot for now. You made lots, enough to get several meals out of it, just in case Hawks pulled his ‘too busy to cook’ excuse when trying to convince you to order take-out.

It doesn’t take long to fly to the agency, the skies much clearer than the roads. The city itself seems relatively calm, no sounds of explosions or screaming. There is a distant plume of dark smoke on the horizon, though…

But there were other heroes in the area. You wouldn’t be missed if you didn’t show up for one disaster...right?

But then you land in the window of your boss’ office, and your worry spikes. The room is empty, door closed, lights off, paperwork strewn about on the desk...like he’d run off in a hurry.

You pull your phone out and send him a text.

‘Lemme know if something came up. I brought lunch, but I can put it away for later. Stay safe!

-Chickadee’

He doesn’t reply, but that’s expected if he’s dealing with some kind of crisis. Maybe you should have headed to whatever disaster you’d seen earlier...if it was bad enough to call on your boss, it must be a pretty dire situation. Maybe he could use an extra pair of wings?

You sigh and take a seat beside the window, staring out at the city skyline. The black smoke across the way has turned to a dusty grey colour, a much less threatening hue, and one that bode well for any possible fires.

He’ll be fine, you decide, with other heroes undoubtedly on the scene. By the time you’d get there, whatever was happening would be dealt with.

You pull out your phone to scroll through the news while you eat.

Nothing urgent appears on the screen, nothing to incline that you were needed somewhere, nothing to say extra help was needed. Just day-old stories, gossip columns, the occasional media review. You do startle a little when a new article pops up that’s focused around your boss. You click on it, expecting to see some kind of haggard scene...but you only laugh.

“Hawks, most eligible bachelor in Japan, off the market?” You scroll further into the article to see what kind of nonsense the reporters have come up with this time.

What you don’t expect, is to find pictures of yourself littering the page. Pictures of you and Hawks together. On patrol, talking over lunch at a cafe he took you to one time, walking into his agency side by side, and -most recently- the two of you landing on his balcony.

You’re slightly panicked, and very, very flustered. Had he seen the column? God, he was probably used to it, though, being as popular as he was. All he had to do was look at someone and the media would start crying wolf, which in your opinion, was stupid.

Still, the more you read the article, the more you find it has some good points. You two did spend a lot of time together, more than he did with any of his other friends. But that’s all you are. Friends. Friends, and completely platonic roommates.

You weren’t sure why that made your heart sink so much.

So you copied the link to the article and sent it to him, typing a quick ‘lol’ afterwards. At the very least, he might get a laugh out of it.

----

You finish eating in record time, scarfing down a portion and a half of curry. It was lonely, sitting in Hawks’ office by yourself. You wondered if he ever felt like that when he was up here on his own. He was too busy for most things, too fast for his own good. Did that include friendships? He made time for you when he could, but you understood the busy and demanding life of a hero...other people might not.

You...understood.

The dull ache that you’ve felt in your chest for the past year returns, suddenly. The sadness and grief, the emptiness and all-encompassing tiredness, the big overhanging question of ‘what’s even the point?’. The point of being a hero, the point of suffering for the people who love you and hate you and who don’t even know you.

“Shit,” you sigh, your head and shoulders hanging low, wing dragging against the floor.

Hawks had brightened your life up so much these last few months. He’d brought the smile back to your face, the joy back to flying. You missed him when he was gone, worried for him when he was off on missions, fuck, you even cooked him lunch of your day off just so you could spend time together.

You were head over heels for him, and so totally screwed.

----

Hawks doesn’t return home until late that night. Far past your usual bedtime, but you’re far too distressed to sleep. If you hadn’t had your earlier revelation, you’d have chalked it up to ‘being worried’. But now?

Now that you knew you had feelings for him, all your thoughts were clouded. You were concerned because you liked him. You hung out with him because you liked him. Everything was because you liked him!

It was fucking with you a bit.

“What are you still doing up?” his voice sounds from the front entryway, startling you bad enough that you almost fall off the couch.

Your wide eyes snap to him, immediately taking him in. He’s worse for wear, that’s for sure. His uniform is singed in places, and you’re pretty sure the scuff on his neck is a burn. Most notably are his wings. Or lack thereof. 

Featherless red nubs is a more accurate description.

“You look like shit,” you say, keeping the air about you casual.

He makes his way over to you and finds a seat on the couch adjacent, wincing as he sits a little too quickly.

“Thanks, chickadee. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

Your face heats up. “I-I just mean! Long day?”

He groans, letting his head fall back against the cushions. You’re vaguely aware that he’s started talking, but the only thing you can pay attention to is the narrow column of his exposed throat, and how badly you wanted to lean over and press your lips against it.

You snap out of your daze when he nudges you with his foot.

“I feel like I’m talking to a wall,” you quips, devoid of any malice.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “what were you saying?”

“I was saying that we should hang out now that I’ve got a few days off. Kick our feet up, instead of culminating in a stuffy office.”

You shake your head. “As much as I’d love to, I still have work. Remember? I was already off today, I can’t miss more days.”

He whines, looking at you with sad puppy eyes. “It’ll be boring here by myself. You make the day more fun.”

“Hawks, I can’t-”

“Keigo.”

You perk up. “Huh?”

He rearranges himself on the couch so he can look at you more comfortably. “My name is Takami Keigo. Call me Keigo when it’s just us, okay?”

You consider it. “Why not Takami? That’s polite here, right? To use the surname?”

He nods. “Unless you’re close with the person. Family, good friends, the like.”

Your wings puff up, fully betraying the fact that you’re pleased he considers you a ‘good friend’. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and a teasing grin spreads across Haw-Keigo’s face.

“See? You waaaaant to. Say it with me: Kei-”

“Keigo.”

You don’t miss the way his cheeks tinge pink.

“You got it. And now, since we’re on a first name basis, I’m asking you to take a few days off to hang out with me.”

You’re exasperated.

“C’mon chickadee.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“No!”

“Y/N…”

“No, Keigo.”

“Alright then. Now, as your boss, I’m officially giving you three days off.”

“You can’t just do that!”

“I can!”

“Hawks!”

“Keigo.”

“Sorry. Keigo!”

His expression is cheeky as you go back and forth for a while, and he’s unrelenting even as you gently beat him with a couch pillow.

It eventually morphs into a small war, the two of you chasing each other around the apartment, wielding whatever cushions you can get your hands on. You eventually end up tripping over the coffee table, shouting as you smack your foot and fall into an ungraceful heap on your back. Keigo wastes no time pouncing on you and pinning your arms beside your head.

Your wings are splayed out on either side of you, and he’s careful not to kneel on them. Even with your foot throbbing the way it is, he knows you could easily get away if you tried. But you don’t struggle. Instead you lay there quietly, out of breath, eyes locked on his. He can feel the warmth creeping up his neck, and you can see the redness returning to his cheeks.

“I...saw the article you sent to me today,” he begins, voice low. “I’m sorry they brought you into it.”

“I don’t mind,” you admit, “I just worry it might be detrimental to you. Some of your fans will be pissed.”

“Seriously?” He sits up on your chest, releasing your wrists. “You’re not online much, are you. Most of my fans ship us.”

“The hell does that mean?”

He laughs, soft of melodious. “It means that they like the idea of us. As a couple.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” you wonder.

“No? Why would it?”

You avert your gaze from him, your insecurities and doubts creeping in under the scrutiny of his golden eyes. “I...guess you could just...do better, is all.”

“Chickadee...Y/N, look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. You feel very exposed laid out on the carpet, and you wish you’d never said anything.

A warm hand cups your cheek. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your heart is beating rapidly against your ribcage, and you’re positive he can see your embarrassment when you finally do as he asks.

But he only smiles gently at you, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“Listen to me, and listen well. You’re the best I can do. You bring out everything good in me, and make me forget the bad. You make me happy.”

“Keigo-”

He shushes you by bringing your lips together.

[karajaynetoday]

family means nobody gets left behind—or forgotten | ashton irwin

Thank you so much to everyone who has interacted with part one of the godparent!Ash series so far! I’ve decided to call it “Charlie Rose, ten fingers, ten toes” in honour of our favourite sassy, loving, hilarious little goddaughter. Part two explores the family holiday I included in the original blurb, and depending on what you all think, we’ll see if there’s enough interest for a part 3 and beyond! For those of you currently in summer, remember to always hydrate, be sun smart and don’t forget to slip, slop, slap!!! 

(Also I have no idea if toddlers/small children can typically speak like Charlie does in this part, they probably can’t, but let’s just call it artistic license lol)

Part one here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | more writing here 

Word count: 4.4k words (the longest thing I’ve written for tumblr, oooof)

Warnings: There’s like two swear words?

(This is a fem reader insert)

A few months after Ashton had come to your babysitting rescue, Alice and James toyed with the idea of flying back to Australia for Christmas. But the reality of a fourteen hour flight with a wriggly toddler was just not something they wanted to deal with, at least not yet, so instead they settled on a holiday to Hawaii. Naturally, they begged you to come along (“Charlie will miss you too much if you don’t!”), and Ashton had a last minute band schedule change that meant he could join you for ten days of sand and sunshine on the island of Maui. So despite the butterflies you were feeling, you found yourself sitting besides Ashton (who had graciously given you the window seat) on the 6 hour flight to Honolulu. 

Charlie was well-behaved for the first few hours, but at about the four hour mark she started squirming in her seat and demanding to be let out to run up and down the aisles. James took her for a few laps of the plane, but that wasn’t enough and if you didn’t do something soon, you’d have a full-blown Charlie Rose meltdown on your hands. Out of nowhere, Ashton produced an iPad with a drumming app on it, and pulled Charlie into his lap and plugged in her toddler headphones. You all collectively breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie clapped her hands in excitement, and “playing” the drums kept her entertained for the remainder of the flight. Uncle Ash to the rescue, once again. 

After a brief stopover in Honolulu and a short flight across to Maui, you had finally arrived at your hotel, which was right on the beach in Ka’anapali. It was a boutique hotel that mostly had private villas with ocean views, and you found yourself praying for a nice comfy bed sometime soon as you and Ash kept Charlie entertained while James and Alice checked in at the front desk. They seemed to be taking longer than you’d expect, but you also figured your brain was exhausted so who even knew what the concept of time was anymore. Charlie had climbed onto Ashton’s lap and was poking his cheeks, and you caught yourself smiling like an idiot as you watched the two of them giggle together. They truly were two peas in a pod, Ashton and his darling Charlie Rose. 

Finally, Alice and James made their way over to you, room keys and luggage in hand. There was a look on Alice’s face that you couldn’t quite figure out, but James spoke up before you could ask her what was going on.

“So, turns out they messed up our booking, and they only have a two bedroom villa for us, not three.” James said slowly, his gaze flicking between you and Ashton.

“So, Charlie has to bunk in with you guys? That seems fine… right?” You said slowly, not quite understanding what the issue was.

“Nah, we wanted the 3 bedroom villa so you and Ash would have a room each. But now you’ll have to share a room. And… also a bed?” James continued, with a look on his face that silently begged you not to murder him on the spot.

You could feel the heat starting to rise in your cheeks, and you opened your mouth to respond but no words came out. 

“Fine by me if it’s fine by you, darlin’.” Ash spoke up from behind you, where he was currently holding Charlie upside down by her legs and she was shrieking in delight. 

“Sure, no problem. Besides, nothing we can do about it, right?” You responded, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. Damn it, there were those butterflies again. 

You headed across to your villa, and to say it was beautiful would be an understatement. There was a small kitchen and living area that overlooked a deck with direct beach access and a breathtaking view of the ocean, and then there were two bedrooms either side of the kitchen with their own bathrooms and sliding doors with access out onto the deck as well. The resort staff had already brought in a high chair and a portable cot for Charlie, so you and Ashton put your luggage into the other bedroom while James and Alice got Charlie settled into her new surroundings. A resounding “YES!” met your suggestion of room service pizza for dinner, and you sat out on the deck with Ashton, Alice, James and a very tired but stubborn Charlie and watched the waves roll in as the sun set above them and you waited for your food to arrive. 

After you consumed your pizza, and Alice and James retired to their room (and their somewhat arduous task of convincing Charlie that yes it really was time for bed, and yes, you and Uncle Ashton would still be there for cuddles and playing tomorrow, and no, they wouldn’t go swimming in the ocean “like Moana” without her), you stayed out on the deck a little longer, transfixed on watching the waves crash into the shore and listening to the peaceful sounds of your surroundings. 

Ash had trekked inside about ten minutes earlier to take a shower and get ready for bed, and the sound of the sliding door opening broke you out of your tranquil ocean reverie.

“Bathroom’s free, if you need it. I’m gonna read my book in bed, but don’t worry about disrupting me, do whatever you want to.” Ashton’s cheerful tone cut through the clear night, and you turned to see him in the doorway to your room, shirtless and slightly damp from his shower. You trailed your eyes down his body before you caught yourself and cleared your throat hurriedly. “Thanks, I’ll be in in a minute.”

After taking a moment to regain your composure, you shuffled into the bedroom where Ash was, sure enough, sitting under the covers and reading a book. You avoided eye contact as you gathered your pyjamas and toiletries before heading into the bathroom. You may have taken longer than usual to shower and work through your evening skincare routine in the hope of avoiding awkward pillow talk with Ashton, but he was still awake and reading silently when you peeked out the bathroom door. Damn it. It’s fine. You’re adults. You’re friends. You’re single adult friends who can share a bed platonically. It’s fine. The voice inside your head was particularly vocal tonight, and you took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door and stepping back into the bedroom.

Ashton glanced up at you and smiled gently, before resting his book in his lap.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking the right hand side. I like to wake up with the sunrise, so I figured this way the light from the window would hit me but not you!” Ashton chirped, patting the bed.

“Oh no worries, that works for me!” You tried to match his enthusiastic tone, but god damn you were nervous. 

You quietly folded your clothes and put them into your suitcase, before retrieving your headphones from your purse and slipping into bed beside Ash. Your pyjamas for this summer vacation were an old band t-shirt and some bike shorts, and all of a sudden you were self conscious about the amount of exposed skin they gave you, with Ashton mere inches away. You pulled up the covers as high as they would go, being mindful not to tear any blanket space from Ash, and opened up the mindfulness app on your phone in search of your nightly wind-down meditation and sleep soundtrack (which was a soothing loop of rain and ocean noises). Pressing the on button on your wireless earbuds, you let out a sigh when they flashed red at you, indicating no battery. 

“Damn it.” You muttered under your breath, reaching over to plug them into the charger you’d set up for your phone on the bedside table. You would be able to get to sleep eventually without the meditation, but you knew the anxiety of having Ashton so close to you (but also so far away) was going to keep you up for hours.

“You good?” Ashton asked softly, marking his page in his book and closing it, adding it to the bedside table on his side of the bed. 

“Ahh.. yep. All good. I just usually do a meditation to help me sleep, and listen to some white noise during the night, but my headphones are dead so I’ll have to go without. But I’m sure I’m tired enough from the flights that I’ll be asleep in no time!” You tried to play it off as totally fine, but you could hear the nerves in your own voice. 

“Why don’t you just play it off your phone? I’m down for a meditation and some white noise, sounds like a recipe for a great night’s sleep on our first night in paradise to me.” Ashton angled his body towards you as he spoke, propping his head up with his elbow in the pillow. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to fuck up your routine or anything Ash, it’s supposed to be a holiday and I know you’ve been so busy with the band these past few weeks - “ You babbled nervously, hands fiddling with the bedspread you were tucked under until Ashton reached over and squeezed your hand in his reassuringly.

“I’m sure. Let’s do it.” His tone was firm but gentle, as he used his other hand to switch off the bedside lamp and snuggled down under the covers. You did the same on your side of the bed, and hit play on the mindfulness app as you were bathed in darkness.

“Welcome to your wind-down meditation. Let’s begin by closing our eyes, and focusing on our breath. Breathe in for four counts, hold for seven, and then breathe out for eight. In, two, three, four…” You could feel your heart rate steadying, as you closed your eyes and concentrated on your breathing. As you drifted towards sleep, you were vaguely conscious of Ashton lying beside you, also breathing deeply, his hand still intertwined with yours under the covers. 

The next morning, you were awoken by the sunlight streaming in through the window, and some whispers and hushed giggles outside your bedroom door that sounded suspiciously familiar. You stretched out your legs, and suddenly became very aware of another set of legs that were slotted amongst your own, and an arm that was loosely pressed into your side. Half of your brain began to panic about the crossed boundaries and impending awkward conversation you were bound to have when Ash woke up and realised he was spooning you; but at the same time, the other half of your brain was calm, and letting you enjoy how safe and serene it felt to have woken up in Ashton’s warm embrace. 

Before you could decide whether to stay put or break up the current scenario happening beneath the sheets, the door that led out to the kitchen creaked open, and Charlie Rose shuffled into your bedroom still dressed in her Mickey Mouse pyjamas. You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating her next move, and gasped loudly in mock surprise when Charlie clambered up onto the bed and launched herself at you and Ashton, giggling in delight.

“Gooooood morning! Time for SNUGGLES!” Charlie proclaimed in her sing-song voice, bouncing up and down on the bed where your feet were. You and Ashton both groaned, and rolled apart from each other to sit up in bed. You immediately missed his body heat, but your heart burst when Ashton leaned forward and tackled Charlie into the bedspread, tickling her and smothering her face in kisses.

“Good morning, Charlie Rose. Did you have a good sleep?” Ashton asked, brushing Charlie’s crazy bed hair out of her eyes as she snuggled into his arms and maneuvered herself under the covers. 

“Yep!” Charlie said, popping the P sound loudly. “Did you sleep good, Uncle Ashta?”

“I sure did, angel. Are you excited to go to the beach today?” Ash continued, rolling over so Charlie was snuggled in between both of you.

“Yay, beach! Did you sleep good because you got to snuggle with auntie? Mama says she always sleeps good when Dada gives her cuddles.” Charlie asked innocently, peering up at both of you with her big brown eyes. 

You felt your face get hot, and your mouth was suddenly dry, when Ashton shot you a wink and tapped Charlie’s nose affectionately. 

“I sure did, Charlie Rose. You know your auntie gives the best snuggles, don’t you?” Ashton said teasingly, as he kissed Charlie’s head gently.

“Yeah! BEST snuggles!” Charlie exclaimed, wriggling her tiny body towards yours and smacking a slobbery kiss on your cheek. Ashton laughed, and stretched his arms above his head. Damn, that chest though.You shook your head to clear it of the train of thought you were about to delve into. Not the time for that. 

“You two stay here and snuggle, I’m going to get us some breakfast, alright?” Ashton spoke, leaning over to kiss Charlie’s forehead before moving to stand up out of bed.

“Nuh-uh, Uncle Ashta! Kisses for auntie too, good manners!” Charlie said, her tone suddenly serious and slightly demanding. Ashton laughed heartily, before a solemn look crossed his features. 

“You’re right, Charlie, that was rude of me. Kisses for auntie.” He said gently, locking eyes with you for the first time all morning, before leaning over and pressing his lips to your temple. 

“Better!” Charlie half-yelled, smacking her own kiss onto your forehead. Ashton chuckled, before pulling a shirt over his head and stepping out to the kitchen, where you could hear Alice and James pottering around and making coffee. Your face was still hot, and your mouth was still dry, but after a few more moments of snuggles with an increasingly wriggly Charlie, you pulled yourself out of bed and made a start to the day. 

After a short breakfast and a discussion about what was on the itinerary for the day, you broke off into your separate rooms to get ready for a trip to the beach as the first activity. 

Ashton was quicker at getting ready before you, and by the time you emerged in your bathers and a t-shirt dress as a pullover, he was in the lounge with a very excited Charlie who was almost literally bouncing off the walls, while Alice and James were packing supplies for a beach picnic in the kitchen. 

“Now, Charlie Rose, what are the rules for the beach?” Ashton asked firmly, gently gripping Charlie’s shoulders to get her focus. 

“Stay with a grown up. Don’t talk to strangers. No ocean by myself. No throwing sand.” Charlie listed dutifully, twisting her hands together.

“Good. And what do we have to remember before we go outside?” Ashton prompted, tapping the sun hat on her head as a reminder.

“SLIP, SLOP, SLAP!” Charlie yelled, clapping excitedly in pride at herself for remembering.

“That’s right! And what do we need to do for slip, slop, slap?” Ashton continued encouragingly. 

“Slip on a shirt… and… and…” Charlie’s voice trailed off, and she looked up at you for assistance. 

“You got this, Charlie Rose. What do Mama and Dada put on your face and arms to protect from the sun?” You knelt down to her level, rubbing your arms in demonstration.

“Slop on sunscreen, slap on a hat!” She babbled excitedly, grasping her yellow sun hat with her tiny hands as she remembered. 

“Yes! Good job!” You and Ashton cheered, exchanging high-fives with Charlie and each other. Once you were all lathered in sunscreen, and wearing shirts and hats (Charlie solemnly inspecting each of you in turn), James and Ashton led the way out of your villa towards the beach. You and Alice walked slowly behind them, swinging Charlie in between you as she held both of your hands tightly. 

There was barely anyone on the beach when you arrived, and soon you found the perfect spot in the sand to set up camp for the day. Charlie was tugging on James’ hand and begging to go into the waves, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her shrieks when she felt how cold the waves were when they washed over her tiny toes. 

Charlie splashed around in the water with each of you for what seemed like hours, with sandcastle building and snack breaks in between her “Moana time”, as she’d taken to calling swimming in the ocean. By the time lunchtime rolled around, the sun was high in the sky and beating down on you, and Alice announced that it was probably a good idea to go back to the villa for a nap, in part she had a slight headache from being outside in the heat for so long. You could see Charlie’s bottom lip start to tremble at her mother’s suggestion, so you quickly offered to stay at the beach with her a little longer, and Alice could head back for some rest. Ashton volunteered to keep you and Charlie company, and James said he’d head back with Alice a little too quickly (something told you that there probably wasn’t a whole lot of actual napping planned in Alice and James’ immediate future). They packed up some of the belongings you’d brought to the beach and headed off towards the villa after some salty goodbye kisses from Charlie, and you settled into your spot on your beach towel and opened up the book you’d started reading on the plane yesterday.

Ashton and Charlie were collaborating on a “sandcastle masterpiece”, as Ashton called it (“I’m creative director, Charlie is head of logistics and construction!”) beside you, and Charlie was being extremely well-behaved for a small child who had spent almost ten hours on flights and in airports the previous day (and was about to miss her afternoon nap). There were a few other groups of people around you on the beach, and you were deeply involved in the chapter you were reading when a soccer ball came flying out of nowhere and bounced onto your towel, giving you a fright. It rolled away and stopped just short of Ashton and Charlie’s sandcastle masterpiece, and Charlie bounded over to pick up the ball with her small hands. 

A young boy and a woman you assumed was his mother approached, and you saw the boy tug on the woman’s hand and point towards Charlie when he noticed the ball in her hands. 

“Hey Charlie, can you bring the ball back over here? I think we’ve found its owner!” You said brightly, beckoning Charlie over to you and where the boy and woman were standing. Charlie skipped over and offered the soccer ball to the boy without complaint, and ushered a cheerful “You’re welcome, have fun!” when the boy thanked her quietly before running off with his ball.

“Well, don’t you have nice manners, young lady?” The woman praised Charlie, smiling down at her from behind her sunglasses. “What an angel you two have on your hands. It seems to come so naturally to you both, were you married long before you had your little one?” She continued, looking expectantly between you and Ashton, who stood up and brushed the sand off his hands with a laugh, lifting the sunglasses off his face. 

“Oh, you know what they say, when you know you’ve found the one, everything else falls into place. Feels like we’ve been together forever, but then Charlie came along and your heart just grows, you know? She makes it easy though, Charlie’s a special kid.” Ashton spoke proudly, and you were taken aback at how easily the little white lies rolled off his tongue. 

He chatted to the woman for a few more moments before her own family called for her and they parted ways. Ashton returned to his sandcastle masterpiece with Charlie, who was waiting patiently for him, and shot you a smile before digging the small plastic spade into the sand and helping Charlie press it into the bucket. 

You eventually decided it was time to pack up and head back to the villa for a break, and upon arrival you managed to convince Charlie to go down for a nap (which she agreed to, as long as she got to snuggle her Uncle Ash in the process). You sat out in the lounge and continued reading your book, and did some research on dinner options while everyone else was sleeping. There was a local restaurant about ten minutes’ walk away, so when Alice and James arose from their slumber, they agreed that it sounded nice and called ahead to make a booking for your little family group. 

Dinner was fairly uneventful, but you could’ve sworn you caught Ashton giving you a double take when you emerged from your shared bedroom in the low-cut, green maxi dress with sunflowers on it that you’d bought especially for this trip. But then again, maybe the butterflies in your stomach were messing with your head. The restaurant provided colouring pages and crayons to keep Charlie entertained while you were waiting for your meals, and you and Ash took great delight in working on your own beach themed artistic creations alongside your goddaughter’s “scribble everything in one colour” approach. 

After dinner, you walked along the beach on your way back to the hotel. James and Alice were up ahead, listening to Charlie babbling about the big sandcastle she and Ashton had built earlier in the day. Ashton offered to carry your sandals so you could use your hands to hold up your long dress, and you gratefully accepted. Alice, James and Charlie disappeared around the corner on the path that led back to the villa, and you found yourself pausing for a moment to admire the sunset and take a deep breath.

Ashton stepped up beside you, and you could feel his gaze as you stretched your arms above your head and wriggled your toes into the sand.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You said softly, watching the waves crash into the shore a few metres from you.

“Not the only thing that’s beautiful tonight, just quietly.” Ashton mused, and you could hear the smile in his voice. And it was on his face, when you turned to roll your eyes at him and laugh when he winked at you. 

“Do you ever… do you ever worry about what the world will be like by the time Charlie’s our age?” You questioned, looking down at your feet in the sand. 

“I mean, I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s hard not to imagine what Charlie’s going to be like when she’s older, because if current Charlie is anything to go by, good fucking luck to Alice and James on that front.” Ashton chuckled, settling himself down into the sand and patting a spot next to him. You tucked up the hem of your dress and sat down, your legs pressed against Ashton’s as you sat closely. 

“But I don’t worry too much about it, because there’s so much in life that we can control. We can’t control the whole world Charlie’s growing up in, but we can control her world with us, you know? We can love her, and support her, and counsel her when she needs or wants it, because we’re her family, and that’s what family is for.” Ash continued, nudging you gently with his elbow.

You took a moment to reflect on what he was saying. “We really are a little family, aren’t we? Like, I know I might not ever have children of my own, but with Charlie, and Alice, and James, and you, I just feel so content. At peace. At home, I guess.” You could feel yourself smiling as you spoke, and when you glanced up at Ashton he was doing the same.

“Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten.” Ash said seriously, before you both burst out laughing. Disney movies on your Charlie babysitting days were starting to take effect on you, and Lilo and Stitch had been a popular choice in the lead up to your Hawaii trip. 

As the laughter subsided, you felt Ashton’s hand brush your hair over your shoulder, before resting on the sand next to your thigh. Somehow, you’d gotten a lot closer in the last few moments, and you found yourself licking your lips as you realised how close Ashton’s face was to yours. He was studying you, and glancing between your lips and your eyes, and then he leaned in to brush his lips against yours softly. It took a second before you realised what was happening, but as you reached up to wrap your arms around Ashton’s neck and pull him even closer, you heard James and Charlie’s voices calling for you and you both sprang apart. Pressing your fingers to your lips, you stood up and turned to look for the voices.

“Hurry uppppp! We’re gonna get ICE CREAM!” Charlie cheered, jumping up and down excitedly. 

“Sounds great! Coming! Sorry!” You called back, smoothing out your dress and glancing back at Ashton. He stood up and brushed the sand off his jeans, and gave your hand a squeeze when he passed over your sandals. You quickly made your way towards where James and Charlie were waiting on the footpath, and moved onwards to the ice cream place in the lobby of the hotel, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when Ashton kissed you and basicaly took your breath away. Day one of your Maui vacation done, only nine more to go… who knew what the universe had in store for you next? 

Part one here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | more writing here

[7team7]

Sharp edges

Mai notices. Zutara from an outsider POV // eventual Zutara, eventual Mailee

A/N: ok hi i love sasusaku fics told from an outsider pov, there are a few really good ones from karin’s perspective so i was like ok sorry mai i will do this LOL (if you’re unfamiliar, karin had feelings for sasuke but he didn’t return them and he married and had a baby with sakura) this is not at all supposed to be The Other Woman type of thing, there’s no cheating, it’s really observations and another way to look at zutara yup! 

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Mai stood by Zuko because she knew he was a good man. She knew he cared about her. Her childhood crush on him wasn’t misplaced. 

When she first sensed the distance growing between them, she chalked it up to Fire Lord duties demanding all of his time. But despite his good intentions and traits, he was not in love with her the way he was in love with someone else.  

She first really noticed when he was running around the palace like a komodo chicken with its head cut off while preparing for visitors. Not just any visitors — his old friends from across the nations used the one year anniversary of his coronation as an excuse to get together. She had sensed his loneliness in the way he constantly gazed at the sky, lost in his own thoughts, in the way he sent off pages and pages of letters. But she assumed he yearned for friendship and not romance. She was only one person, she could only give him so much.

The palace was ablaze with activity in the days before the highly anticipated celebration. “Aren’t you excited?” he asked her, looking like a kid on the morning of his birthday. 

His face drooped when he realized, no, of course she wasn’t. They weren’t really her friends, they weren’t here to see her. 

She verbalized her feelings anyway, “Why would I be?” 

“Oh! I forgot to tell you that Ty Lee is coming too. And my sister got cleared by her doctors to join us for a while. That’s something, right?” 

She sighed. He was trying. He always tried his best and that was one of the things that was so endearing about him. “Should be an interesting mix,” she remarked. She excused herself to go lay down and left him to finish hanging the flags of the other nations in the hallway. Even with all his servants doing their best, no one could work fast enough to keep up with his boundless energy. He really was excited, wasn’t he?

Before she rounded the corner to her room, she could’ve sworn she noticed the way he seemed to hold onto the blue Water Tribe fabric just a bit longer. She shook her head. She must have been tired, imagining him run his thumb over the fabric before hanging it. 

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The Gaang arrived noisily as usual. The way they all arrived on time (at noon, peak Zuko energy time) was a little freaky. It seemed no amount of time would mess with their sync. 

A seemingly endless round of hugs was exchanged, everyone chattering excitedly as they caught up with each other and made plenty of nostalgic jokes that you really had to be there for to understand. 

Aang had arrived first, flying in and bowing with exaggerated politeness to “Sifu Hotman” that only served to send both Zuko and himself into a fit of giggles. Two of the world’s most powerful benders were really still kids. 

Toph came stomping in next, wondering aloud if Zuko would change her life today. He gave her an affectionate noogie, and asked, “Haven’t I already?” 

She shoved him, “Don’t go thinking you’re Iroh.” She was happy. 

Sokka would’ve been next had he not been intercepted by Suki. They had their own little reunion on the docks before joining the group. 

So that left Katara to skip up to the palace, leaving her brother behind. Mai could’ve sworn Katara was an airbender when she all but flew through the air when she launched herself at Zuko, arms outstretched for an embrace. 

And Zuko caught her. 

He captured her in a tight hug and spun her around, looking like they hopped straight out of an Ember Island Players romance.  

When her feet met the ground again, the waterbender seemed to grow embarrassed as she quickly turned away from Zuko to greet her other friends. Zuko seemed to reach for her again, but dropped his hands and squeezed them into fists. The smile on his face was just a bit less dazzling than it had been a moment before, even when Sokka came barreling through the scene with a witty comment.  

Mai tilted her head, surveying the situation. To Sokka, he was a fellow swordsman; to Aang, he was a firebending master; to Toph, he was the sibling she never had; he was their friend. To everyone — Suki, Ty Lee, Momo, Appa — he was a friend. 

But who was he to Katara? The question grated on her nerves. It was too loud. She left to check on Azula. 

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Maybe she was reading into it too much. It wasn’t like Katara had no options: Aang’s feelings for her were obvious. She watched closely to determine if those feelings were reciprocated. Maybe time and distance had changed things.

Katara had suggested going into town to explore the marketplace and Aang jumped up to join her. But then Zuko started droning on and on about the economy and instead of being bored to death like any normal person, she started offering her own suggestions for improving revenue streams and diversifying product offerings. Yawn. 

Aang trailed after then, looking forlorn. Katara had the Avatar hanging on her every word, yet she chose to pay attention to Zuko, her former enemy. That was really something. 

And Zuko, he was listening to her more intently than he ever listened to his aging advisors. 

Mai stayed back. She wasn’t interested in inserting herself. Time and distance only seemed to make Zuko more sure of his feelings, even if he didn’t realize it yet. She would need to reevaluate the situation herself. 

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Mai never felt left out as a nonbender. She had seen the way fire had destroyed her own nation. 

But she had always wished they could spar together. It wasn’t about meeting halfway, she could have easily requested that he use his swords to level the playing field. 

But his identity would always be tied to that of a firebender. He was the Fire Lord, for one thing. He could put down the swords whenever he wanted, but the fire would always be inside him, licking at his insides, smoking its way out in every exhale.  

Fire and water were opposites, but they worked together surprisingly well. Balance, she thought as she lazily twirled a dagger in her hands while watching Zuko and Katara’s sparring session.  

“You’ve improved,” he praised her, clearly impressed. Zuko wore his heart on his sleeve, something he apparently thought Mai should try. Her face pinched in for a split second when Katara’s shining eyes met his. For a waterbender, Katara’s eyes had so much warmth. Like the changing tide, they held a special sort of softness when she looked at Zuko. 

“You have too. But what else would I expect? You’re the Fire Lord now,” she teased. Fighting alongside Zuko had always felt natural, but it was a joy to be able to practice against him now that they weren’t sworn enemies. 

“A Fire Lord who will get rusty if he has to do anymore paperwork,” he grumbled, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“Well come on. I’m sure paperwork can wait for a little while longer. Can you show me that new move you did at the end?” 

Mai remembered Zuko promising the other benders that they’d get a chance to spar with him too, but that seemed to slip his mind. He eagerly started showing her the forms. Katara picked it up quickly: it was clearly a fusion of water and firebending styles. 

An understanding started developing at the back of her mind: there were things Zuko and Katara had that Zuko and herself could not have. 

The session only ended when Azula came waltzing in, asking if anyone was up for a little fun. 

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Breakfast the next day was held outside to take advantage of the favorable weather. The pleasant breeze coupled with sunshine put everyone in a merry mood. Instead of Zuko sitting at the head of the table in his fancy throne-like chair like he would inside, everyone squished together on two long benches at one table. Mai sat to Zuko’s immediate left, at the edge of the table. 

People like Aang, Sokka, and Toph were driven by hunger and started digging in quickly. Suki had clearly taken a moment to actually get ready because when she took her place next to Sokka, her hair was neater than almost everyone else’s.

Katara came in last, yawning and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Zuko brightened when he saw her, “Katara! I saved you a seat.” He scooted closer to Mai, brushing her side with his, but only so he could make room for Katara. Mai sighed. Why was he so clueless sometimes?

As soon as Katara was settled next to him, Zuko poured her a steaming cup of tea. She gave him a sweet smile in thanks. He pushed a plate towards her, “Here, this one shouldn’t have any fire flakes.” She dug in eagerly, nudging his shoulder with hers in silent happiness while she chewed. Zuko’s body jostled up against Mai’s as a result of being nudged, but he had never felt so far away.

“Anyone else want some tea?” he asked the table. Of course everyone wanted a sip of Iroh’s delicious breakfast brew, so they all said yes. But instead of serving everyone the way he had served Katara only a moment ago, Zuko just passed the teapot across the table so everyone could pour their own cup.

Clueless, truly clueless. 

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“Guess what my silly brother told me when I arrived yesterday? He said, ‘Be nice.’ Ha! As if I would ever imagine being anything but,” Azula cackled. He had pulled her aside when he noticed the way everyone (or really, Katara) hesitated around her. Her unpredictable energy still put everyone on edge. 

“I can hardly believe little ZuZu is the great big Fire Lord now,” she continued. The original trio — Azula, Mai, Ty Lee — were strolling around the city. There wasn’t much to do at the palace until dinner time seeing as Zuko was tied up with his daily meetings. Bureaucracy didn’t stop, even for visitors. 

“I know right. Things are so different now.” She knew what Azula left unsaid: Zuko was Fire Lord and she wasn’t. Mai still wasn’t sure exactly how to go about tending to Azula’s feelings. She was still her friend, but everything had changed so much, there was a much needed distance between them. No matter how bored she was, she would never follow the princess’s every whim again.

“I’ve been told to work on being happy for others. Even if they have what I want, even if I can’t get it. He’s still a dumb dumb, but you know. I’m working on it.” Azula examined her nails as if the conversation was completely casual, but her words held great significance. 

Oh. 

It would take time, but maybe she could work up to being happy for them.

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She waited a day, mulling it over on her own. But she didn’t wait until everyone else went home to end it. Really, why bother? 

“What are you talking about? Why would you leave? Does this mean we’re breaking up?”

She closed her eyes. The pain and confusion written all over his face were making this difficult. “Yes. I’m not the one for you and you’re not the one for me. There’s no reason for me to stay here anymore.” She wasn’t sure where she’d go, but it might be nice to see the world when she wasn’t on a manhunt. 

He spluttered, “But if it’s not us, then who is it?!”

She waved her hand vaguely, “You’ll figure it out.” Even if he wasn’t in love with her the way he was with Katara, he was still emotionally attached. Since he had yet to confront his own feelings, she realized this break up came as quite the shock. But he’d get over it. There was someone who would help him. She was almost positive that he’d go running into her arms momentarily. 

Mai was truthful when she told Azula she loved Zuko more than she feared her. 

Zuko had done a lot of growing up, had gotten so much stronger; she was proud of him for it. But Mai had to come to terms with the fact that Zuko still feared Azula because of her capacity to hurt Katara. He still feared Azula because he loved Katara. 

Katara was so precious to him, he would put his life on the line to save her — he already had. 

That pained Mai to think about, it cut her to the core, it stung so, so badly to be the second choice. But there was nothing she could do. 

How could she compete? The difficulties of a Water Tribe girl being with a Fire Nation boy obviously didn’t matter. They would make it work. 

Conceding defeat to someone like Katara should not be so hard. Bowing out was the graceful thing to do. She wasn’t the type to make a dramatic scene anyway.  

But when she finally walked away, she dug her fingernails deep into her own palms despite it all. Loving Zuko was not so easy to let go of. 

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She returned months later with a slew of Kyoshi Warriors to celebrate Zuko’s birthday and found that Katara had never left. She squeezed Ty Lee’s hand to say I told you so. 

The girl in pink gazed up at her in wonder, “You’re so good at predicting!” 

Mai muttered, “Not that hard when it’s right in front of you.” They were clearly not shy with the displays of affection now that they were officially a couple. 

Ty Lee sighed in contentment when they walked into the palace, “The auras in here are so much happier than they were a few years ago, it feels great!” She turned to poke her girlfriend’s side, “Yours too.” 

“Don’t make me blush,” she murmured. 

“That’s why you like wearing the Kyoshi Warrior makeup, huh? But I know, I always know.” Her tone was light, but it was true. Out of everyone, it was Ty Lee who knew her best, who always stood by her. It was Ty Lee who dealt with her dreariness after breaking up with Zuko, and it was Ty Lee who gave her time and space when she hesitated to step into a new relationship. And Ty Lee was the one who made it worthwhile.

“How are you feeling though?” Ty Lee regarded the other girl carefully. Zuko had been part of her life for so long, it was no simple feat to move on from him. 

“The usual, I’m fine.” Her emotions had always been low key and thankfully, no jealous beast reared its ugly head upon seeing Zuko and Katara together. Really, she was fine.

Ty Lee nodded in satisfaction. She tilted her head thoughtfully, “They look happy, too. I’m happy for them!” Ty Lee might’ve felt it more acutely, but Mai agreed. It was a good feeling, light and sweet and satisfactory. She hoped Azula could feel even a fraction of this relief in her own life. 

It had taken a while for all of them to get to this point, but it was worth it and they were all good. If that wasn’t something to celebrate, she didn’t know what was. 

She finally walked up to him. “Happy birthday, Zuko.” 

“Thank you, Mai. It’s good to see you.”

She nodded at him. It really was good to see him so happy. It didn’t hurt anymore. Letting go of each other didn’t necessarily mean that they had lost. 

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A/N: I chose Mai over aang bc I feel like her quiet nature is just more observant and aang is babie. Also I don’t hate Maiko lol I just. Ship zutara :P I don’t really ship aang with anyone, so he’s j chillin, he has his own happy ending everything is fine 

Please let me know what you think about this one >_< I have a few other zutara things in my wips, plus of course I need to keep updating my sasusaku arranged marriage story, so some of those will come out eventually. Couldn’t keep up with zutara week or ss month but its ok! 

[sheliesshattered]

So. The next thing I’m writing, I can’t actually talk about.

Not that that’s going to stop me from trying. :D

The Whouffle Discord server I help to run, Clara’s Diner, is doing a fanworks gift exchange for Valentine’s Day, and we’re not supposed to say who we’re making gifts for, it’ll all be a surprise in ~7 weeks from now. Which is super fun! I’ve never actually done a fanfic/fanwork gift exchange before, but I think the end result will be a blast! We’ll be giving and receiving gifts, and getting to enjoy everything everyone else made too, so I expect a bunch of really cool stuff is going to come out of this.

Shortly before Christmas, those of us who have decided to participate got the name of the person we’re each creating for. Given the timing, and that I hadn’t quite finished writing First Christmas at that point, I was like ‘welp, that’s something to think about another day’ and kind of put it in the back of my mind -- but knowing, of course, that Valentine’s Day sneaks up on me every year. 

(In non-covid years, it’s always the same week as GallifreyOne, and I know when I’ve tried to make a complete costume after Christmas in time for Gally, the 7 weeks between Christmas and mid February always just fly by.) 

So I absolutely didn’t want to put off, but I also didn’t know exactly what I wanted to make for my gift recipient. I knew it would definitely be fanfic, because I’m not overly thrilled with either my drawing or video editing skills, but beyond that I was just sort of waiting for inspiration to strike. 

Now that I’ve had a couple of days to recover from Christmas and the final push to get First Christmas written, I spent a little time this morning poking around the Tumblr and AO3 of the person I’m writing for, and came up with a couple of possible directions that I thought might maybe lead somewhere. I do a lot of my best writing planning in the shower, so with those ideas in mind, I went off to wash my hair. 

By the time I was out of the shower, I had not only settled on an idea, I also had the whole story arc sketched out in my head, and huge chunks of dialogue floating around waiting to be put down on paper. I told Jack that I was “way up in my head” -- my code for “please don’t try to talk to me, I’m basically a walking gdoc until I can get this stuff out of my head and onto the page” -- made some tea, and sat down to get as much of it written down as I could before I started to lose the specifics.

Somehow, I looked up to find that three hours had passed and I’d written just over 3000 words, big chunks of dialogue for the beginning and every major beat through to the end, more or less. And poor Jack had been almost completely silent for three hours straight, and had to let out some steam just as soon as I said I was out of words, lol.

I worried I was burned out after finishing both Time And Relative Dimension and First Christmas in the last month, but all of a sudden I’m feeling much better about getting the fic done in time, and really excited about the story I’m spinning up. At this point, I expect the entire thing to be between 6k and 7k words, but we’ll see if it ends up expanding on me as I get the rest of the story filled in. My plan is to do #process thoughts updates as I write, but keep the details of the storyline and the title under wraps until the fic has been gifted in February. Can’t wait for you guys to see this one, especially the giftee! :D

[honestsycrets]

Way Too Close || [AHA x Reader]

“Where is my gift?” “It’s a secret…” (Ivar or Ubbe Alex Hoegh Andersen for @ivarsrideordie)

⇁ Pairing | AHA x Reader (god rest my soul)

⇁ tw | RPF (please know I don’t write RPF usually, so please don’t request me), crazy fan ladies, general floof, and angst.

⇁ summary | you really hate overreacting this– even if you know its someone he’ll likely never see again.

⇁ sy notes | I don’t write AHA. I don’t. But @ivarsrideordie has been really down this christmas season so I wanted to make something for her that would make her feel better. that being said, please don’t request AHA. 

He’s that sort of boy.

You know that Alex has a lot of fans. Some crazier than others, and so when it happened, you tried to understand. But there was something about it that wouldn’t sit well with you. No matter how many times you played it over in your mind, the sight of the Brazilian girl’s arms thrown over his broad shoulders under the magic of a deep green mistletoe, lips against lips, it just-- it was what it was. Maybe he could deal with this geniality but at some point, you had to leave and get some air.

Getting some air led to strutting down the street, and with your heels hooked around your fingers, your blackened feet made their way to the rented apartment through the chilly park. The wind whistles through the high trees, singing softly with the memory of the moment only a few minutes ago during the Christmas exchange at an event.

“Where is my gift?” Annoying Bitch said. You crane your head, catching Alex in an awkward laugh, followed by an equally stunted response. “...it’s a secret,” Alex said, a hint of flirt at the end of that statement. Though, if you’re being honest, that’s simply how he always sounded.

“Oh really,” Standing Way Too Close said, and the moment that followed was something you had seen one too many times. A forced kiss he bowed out of, catching you standing there with eyes otherwise unamused. Alex apologized. So did Not at All Remorseful. “I didn’t-- I never knew you were together.”

“Not together,” you said with a cock of your head. “I’ll catch you later, Alex.”

Still Touching Alex Way Too Much cracks a smile, clearly not fooled and yet-- as he peels her hands from his neck, bending his head as if in an apology, you’re out the front door and down the street.

He clearly had work left to do there. And maybe you had a few too many drinks stumbling through that park because you were so sure he would be busy for the night. Christmas Eve night-- not a usual thing. No, not really. He’s open with communication on these important little dates knowing how you love, and hate, and love them.

This holiday would definitely be a hate.

0914 BEEP BEEP

0824 BEEP BEEP

Your fingers curl at the keypad. Somehow, you made it here, and the keypad has never been more aggravating than it was in that second. And that wasn’t fair, because with dirty feet, a broken heart, and a boozy head-- the last thing you wanted to do was fight with a hunk of junk screen!

“Here,” someone slips beside you and tacks at the metal numbers. “0894.”

A softer beep follows this time, and you all but slump inside toward the elevator-- heading up toward the stupid apartment where you could collapse into sleep and find out how you would explain storming out so unreasonably.

Perhaps you would say that your stomach was upset. That the booze wasn’t treating you well. Or maybe-- maybe you could lie. That was it. You would tell him that… you needed to make a phone call in private. Where you wouldn’t see like that overbearing girl who wouldn’t let her man do his job.

“Thank you,” you say once you both get into the elevator-- because manners are manners. God, the elevator is hot. You slip off the coverall from your shoulders, watching as the hazy numbers definitely begin to change. Even with the fact that you’d not hit anything at all. There’s a pause, then the doors open, and you walk to the shared apartment fumbling with your purse the whole way.

Once inside, you abandon your heels by the door. Your head thumps with the repetitive beat of the music from that afterparty, and when you drop onto the couch, your eyes are glowering at the ceiling. It’s cold-- you light the fireplace, bending down in your mid-thigh length dress. The fire crackles softly in front of you. A pleasant distraction from the mess of an evening when you’re curled up on fluffy blankets, stroking the faux fur on the ground. A notepad sits in front of you. The words all jumble in your mind like a good jigsaw puzzle that needs just a hint of unraveling for the new song you meant to be working on for a client overseas.

Can’t make him change his mind.

Which, right, you think-- that was the hope you had, anyway. The more reasonable side of you says that its impossible to hold him up to the standards you were holding him up to. For most men, that situation would have been a great, big no. He’s spoken for, you could have said, and smacked Bitch Be Touching Too Much so hard that her eyeliner would fly off. But the more reasonable part of you said: Breathe. Relax. Stop-- which is exactly what you end up not doing.

Keys jingle at the front door sometime later. You figure you should go ahead and go to bed, change out of this stupid dress. You find yourself instead laying there, staring at the crackling fire, and replaying the night over and over again. If anything, he looked oddly exhausted with the throwing off the arms and kisses and-- god, what man would be tired of that?

He would. You knew he would. Anyone would. A hundred, a thousand fake smiles-- all those expectations and nowhere to go from them? It would have to be exhaustive. And though that songwriting resulted in a hundred drafts, you knew you couldn’t send any one of those to your clients. Well, maybe. But you should probably leave the bat part out of it. Then again, some artists went for that shit. Psychotic fucks.

“Love,” he says-- and it causes you to turn over, because you’re a sucker for that, as much as you shouldn’t be. The keys settle on the small wooden table just to the right of the door. “Are you awake?”

“Nope,” you answer, flicking the page. “Pretty sure I’m dead.”

There’s a small sound of him slipping out of his silvery shoes behind you. His steps become softer when he slides behind you, running his hand over the small notebook you worked on. You nip him with the tip of your pen.

“I saw you run out. Not so discreet, by the way.” He teases, and you puff out your lips, musing him even further.

“Looks like I won’t be a spy anytime soon.”

“Stick to songwriting,” Alex pauses, flicking through the pages long enough for you to know that he’s reading, and maybe not so amused with what he’s finding on the pages he’s working on.

“I have a song due before Christmas,” you lean over to snatch the journal. Despite the fact that the haze of anger has fizzled out, you’re fixated upon the pad. Because maybe-- just maybe, you could think of something in the mood you were in.

“That doesn’t seem like a Christmas song.”

“I never would have guessed,” you mumble, finding yourself stubbornly pushing up. Alex stops you with his hand upon your shoulder. “Let’s talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about?” You say. “Brazilians have the culo. You like culo. No problem.”

“Brazilians don’t speak Spanish.”

“It’s in South America. Close enough,” you say, sitting right side up. This manner of speaking, well, it’s deflection. There’s no if, ands, or butts-- (heh, see what you did there), about it.

“What is this really about?” Alex’s voice strains when he speaks again, and you’re more on edge by this point. Your shoulders, tense. Your eyes, to the ground. Yeah, jokes aside, your head hurt about as much as your heart.

“It’s probably just this new song.”

“Are you going to keep lying?” He’s probably tired, and though cuddling by the fireplace would have been preferable, Alex knows that there’s something eating at you that you just can’t make into words. A stab of self-loathing churns in your stomach, and you know you have to do something to stop this avoidance. You relax against him, staring at the brightest part of the fireplace until your eyes give away.

“The kisses,” you respond, failing in your smile. “They’re tiring.”

And he knows-- he knows how tiring it is. On-screen, that was one thing. Off the screen, well, those kisses should have been yours. Well, and his insane friends. You couldn’t forget them either.

“You know I can’t help that.”

“I know. They’re like flies,” you say. Your eyes close, and you try your best to shut out the heartbreak like you usually do. “Why don’t you age already?”

“Might make it worse,” he grins, cheesily so. “Could be a silver fox.”

“You’re impossible,” you muse, pushing his shoulder tersely. “How am I to do anything with you?”

He scoffs a little, eyes flitting down over your shoulder, and tightens his hold around your waist. There was nothing to be done or said, but you’re within confidence that he didn’t really mean to do what he did. Things like this-- they just… happened.

“You don’t,” he muses. “You love me and forget the rest.”

It sounds like the headliner for the next song. Your fingers tingle, reaching toward your notes. He stops you, bringing his hands back around to cradle yours around your waist. “Forget work for a minute,” he says. “Maybe for a whole night.”

“What do I get instead, hm?”

“Christmas cuddles.”

“Yeah,” You recline back, shifting into him when he kisses you upon on your cheek. The silence of the night is outlined by the soft heave and drop of his chest. At the end of the day, he’s here. WIth you-- and that’s what matters. “Yeah, I guess that works too.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound​ @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys​  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage

[avintagekiss24]

Doodles and Diamonds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x black reader (high school!au)

Rating: teen

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1858

Summary: Calculus sucks. If it wasn’t for your habit of doodling, you’d never make it through class. Apparently, your drawings help someone else stay awake as well.

A/N: I told y’all I have a problem! Challenges are my weakness. This was written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme 10 marvelous things I hate about you challenge that I found yesterday. The prompt is in bold. Here’s some high school fluff to balance out all of the porn I’ve been posting lately, lol. (the title is referring to a baseball diamond, just fyi)(i’m terrible at coming up with titles).

Calculus is the worst class of the day. It’s right after lunch, so you’re usually stuffed to the gills with french fries and orange soda. You never bring your calculus book with you, so you have to walk clear across the school to get to your car to grab it, so by the time you make it back to the classroom, you’re hot, sweaty, and out of breath. Plus, it’s calculus, so in it’s own right, it’s just terrible. But, day after day, month after month, you stuff yourself stupid with french fries, you run to your car and back, and curse yourself when you finally collapse into your chair from sheer exhaustion. 

The only thing that keeps you awake in calculus is your doodling. You prop your sketchpad in between the pages of your calculus book and fill the pages with everything you can imagine. Puppies, dragons, witches, your teacher turning as a frog- doesn’t matter the subject. You think it, it gets doodled.

Something weird happened a couple of weeks ago though. When making your daily trek to your car, you noticed a sticky note on the drivers window. You peeled it off, your face screwed up in confusion as you read over the chicken scratch.

Can you draw lion eating an ice cream cone?

You looked around but saw no one paying you the least bit of attention. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, which, to be honest, you wouldn’t recognize your own mother’s handwriting if your life depended on it. You shoved the note into your pocket, grabbed your book, and ran your ass to the classroom. You glanced around as the room filled with students, trying to find the doodle requestor, but no one even looked in your direction. Class started a few minutes later, and to keep from falling asleep, you drew a lion eating an ice cream cone. 

Every day after that, a new post it note appeared on your car, asking for some stupid little drawing. A cat playing the flute, Captain America punching a baby, a happy little dinosaur flying a kite during a storm; the requests were endless. But, everyday, you obliged your secret doodle admirer. You drew exactly what they asked for, ripped it out of your book, folded it up all nice, and left it in the seat of your chair. 

Why not just wait and see who picks up the prized drawing, some would ask? And risk being late to art class? The class that just happens to be your favorite, have your favorite teacher, and you share with your bff since third grade? You think not. Finding out who the doodle master is, is really not all that important. Plus, you kinda like the mystery of all anyway. 

Today is like all the others. You finish off your french fries, tossing the paper basket into the trash before you head for the parking lot. Your face is buried in your phone, your fingers tapping away at the screen as you approach your 1965 fire engine red Ford Mustang (a present from your dad, who lives clear across the country and has never been there for you and is trying to make up for it with money- you’re not complaining.) You pick your head up, just in time to see one Bucky Barnes standing at your drivers door. 

You stop, squinting as the wind blows your out of control, curly, frizzy hair in your face. His head is down, his expensive sunglasses propped up on the top of his head, pushing his hair back. You can’t really tell what he’s doing as you approach from the passenger side, but the likes of jock, douche-bag Bucky Barnes being next to your pride and joy, makes you uneasy.

“Umm, what are you doing?” You finally huff as you reach the passenger side door. 

He snaps his head up to you, his blue eyes wide as he shoves his hands into his back pockets, “Uh, you know, just um, admiring your car. It’s in fantastic shape.”

You nod slowly as you purse your lips, glancing around the parking lot, “Uh huh.”

You open the door and dump your bag into the front seat before grabbing your calculus book and your sketchpad. You slam the door shut and pop back up to find Bucky still standing there, his eyes still wide, his hands still in his back pockets. You fold your arms and rest them on the hood as you blink back at him, a smirk on your face as you lift your eyebrows.

He clears his throat and laughs nervously, “Did you um, restore it yourself?”

“Nope.”

He nods, sucking his teeth, “So, you bought it like this, huh?”

“Obviously.” You answer, your voice dripping with annoyance. 

He chuckles again as his nerves get the best of him, “Not a big talker, huh?”

You shrug, “Depends on the topic. My fenders don’t really whip me into a verbal frenzy.”

“Right.” He starts, backing away from the car, “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll uh, I’ll see you, um, in a few minutes, in calculus, I guess.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the whole conversation. The two of you have been in the same classes since second grade, and these are the most words the two of you have ever exchanged. You squint at him as he walks off, a small piece of yellow something grabbing your attention from his back pocket. You lean down to peer through the window to the drivers side, noticing that your usual sticky note isn’t pressed to the window today. 

You move around to the drivers side, checking the door and then the ground, but there’s... nothing. You snap your head back toward the brunette as he crosses the parking lot, that yellow something still sticking out of his pocket as he moves. Your mouth drops open. Holy shit! 

You take off in a sprint, your black converses slapping against the pavement as you advance on him. When you finally reach him, you snag the folded up sticky note from his pocket and nearly double over from the fire that is now your lungs. You should really participate in gym a little more often. He turns, throwing up his hand at you as you try and catch your breath, your hands on your knees.

“What the fu-” He starts, his words halting as soon as he notices the sticky note in your hand, “Gimme that.”

You stand up straight, lifting your arm up into the air as you whip around so that you’re facing the opposite direction. He pulls at your arm and swipes at your hand as you turn sharply left and right, moving your arms up and down and side to side to keep it out of his reach. You bend over and stretch out your arms, using your ass and hips to keep him at bay as you unfold the three by three piece of yellow paper.

“Can you draw a giraffe driving a fire truck?” You read out loud, laughing  as he swipes at your hands again, “Oh my god.”

He curses lightly underneath his breath and finally drops his hands to his sides, “Fine. Fine. You caught me.”

You stand up straight again and turn to face him, “I would have never guessed in a million years that it was you.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, widening your eyes at him, “Golden boy, all star shortstop Bucky Barnes, who hasn’t said two words to me in ten years, is leaving weird requests for me to draw on my car? The Bucky Barnes?”

He shrugs, “I like em, your drawings. You’re really good.” You scoff, rolling your eyes toward the sky, “I mean it! You are.”

You shake your head, unable to wipe the smile from your face, “Thanks. That’s, that’s really nice of you to say.”

“You’re welcome.” He says proudly, “You know, conversations work both ways. You haven’t said anything to me in ten years either.”

“Second grade, actually.” You agree, “You broke my purple crayon.” He throws his head back and laughs loudly, the sound of it making you smile in return. You made Bucky Barnes laugh. Pride swells in your chest.

“Holy shit, you still remember that?”

“Of course, I do!” You screech, “I loved that crayon! Purple is my favorite color. I’m still mad you about it, honestly.”

He throws his hands up, still chuckling, “I’ll buy you a new one. Okay? Will that squash it finally?”

You close your left eye and hum as you tilt your face toward the sky, pretending to think it over, “I dunno, man. That was a special purple crayon.”

“I’ll buy you a whole pack of crayons.” He smiles widely, “I’ll get you that sixty four pack, baby. You’ll be the talk of the town with that thing.”

You cover you face with your hands and laugh, “Oh, god.”

“Everybody will be so jealous of you. It’ll be so fetch.” He exaggerates, holding out his palms toward you as he stains his voice to reach a higher pitch. 

“You’ve clearly lost your mind.” You laugh.

“Hey, I’m just glad our ten year stalemate is over. I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted.”

The two of you share another laugh before it dissolves into silence. He still smiles at you, causing another large grin to break onto your face. You drop your head under his gaze, giggling stupidly as you tuck some hair behind your ear. Are you flirting right now? Is that what’s happening? What in fresh hell?

“So um, you should come to one of my games some time. Like, Friday night, maybe.” He says after a minute, nodding slowly. 

You click your tongue and nod with him, not really sure what to do or say, “I don’t know. I don’t know much about baseball.”

“That’s okay.” He shrugs, “We can get some pizza or something afterward. Or, french fries, since that’s all you eat.” 

You snap your eyes back to him. He wouldn’t know that unless he’s been watching you. Why is Bucky Barnes watching you? What is happening? This is definitely taking a turn that you did not expect.

“I mean,” He shrugs, shaking his head, “You don’t have to, I was just, I just, you know, it’d be cool or whatever, since we’re, you know, talking, or, whatever.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Yeah. That, that’d be, that could be cool.” You answer, nodding your head faster as you fumble over your words. 

Bucky smiles, running his hands through his hair, “Ok, cool. Cool. I guess, I'll see you Friday.”

“Well, aren’t you coming to class?” You ask, pointing your thumb toward the building behind you.

“Oh shit,” He laughs, “Yeah.”

He shoves his hands in his back pockets as the two of you start a slow stroll to your calculus class. You both end up being late and take a tongue lashing from Ms. Fertman as you take your seats. You scoot down in your chair, crack open your calculus book, and draw a giraffe driving a fire truck.

tags: @jetaimeamore @mixedbutdivine @shay-iamiam @wildfirecracker @amberjoy38 @mannarn @bellaamor88 @stellarxfresh @metsforever @freshprincessofwakanda @euh-say-what-now @golden-ariess @ishipwhateverthefuckiwantto @bitchacho25 @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @mangos4u @flowersbound @atthediscowithoutpanic @marvel-mystery @honeyloverogers @awesomecamillatthings

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[ngame989]

“Brew” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 6

Writing: @ngame989​

Art: @toxicpsychox​

Editing: @toxicpsychox​, @seddm​, an IRL friend

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: After close to a year on Earthni, Tom's been dragged back into the princely life, and it's a lot less exciting than he'd expected. With Star and Marco away on urgent business, can Janna help him turn a boring errand into a fun adventure?

Comic Page

Masterpost

This one’s a nice change of pace from the last two chapters, I think. TGG’s still a Starco-focused work, expect these to be the exception not the norm, but I think it’s important to strike a balance. See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“No results.” Huh? Three eyes narrowed at the screen in frustration. Maybe a different search term? “No results.” Alright Tom, no big deal, man. Maybe you just spelled something wrong. Annnnnd… there. “No results.” How could there be nothing?

Tom leaned back in the chair and sighed, exercising restraint over the little anger demons inside him as he’d trained himself to do. In the past he’d needed a physical bunny to pet if he wanted even a hope of keeping his cool, but at this point suppressing the urge was such reflex that most would think he just had a regular Mewman quick temper and nothing more in all but the most extreme of conditions, but he was getting pretty close to that point now. Grandpa Relicor’s study had everything, or so he thought, but this was the first time he could ever remember being here where it come up short. He’d checked every shelf, everything he could think in the computer, had even fireblasted a few of the shelves just to see if there were any hidden switches or anything. Even Relicor had been at a loss and had been screeching in distress on the floor for long enough that Tom’s brain had graciously tuned it out. What could be so important about this book his mom needed? He hadn’t even had time to change his casual graphic tee from a cartoon he liked, simply tossing his maroon jacket over it before heading out at his mother’s behest. He wasn’t one to say no to her, but it had been hours since he’d shown up here and he was no closer to figuring this out than he had been this morning.

Suddenly his phone buzzed, displaying the familiar beaming face of his ex-girlfriend close up to the camera. A toothy grin erupted as he picked it up, holding the phone up for a video feed. “Heya, Starship.”

“Hey, Tom!” Star beamed into the camera. “How’s it hanging? Long time no see. So,” she rambled out in one breath, “I may have a teensie weensie wittle problem.” She backed up to reveal her hair in complete disarray, sans horns, and black marks all over her light blue dress. Before Tom could even ask the question, her other hand held up charred fragments of her headband. “Someone still hasn’t learned how to use an Earth oven properly!” she forced out through gritted teeth.

“Look, gurl, I said I was like, so sorry! All the Cloud Kingdom kitchens are powered by glitter and horn blasts, like that’s just how ovens are supposed to be, that is all I am saying here,” Ponyhead’s indignant voice chimed in from behind, punctuated by a snort.

“Anyway, we just finished putting out the fires and I need a new headband and their website says they’re almost out of stock and I’ve wanted to show Marco around the Underworld for a while and- wait, is that screeching in the background? Where are you?”

Tom shuffled away from the elder demon still writhing on the floor and cleared his throat. “Just in Grandpa’s study trying to find something for my mom, she really wants it today. I don’t know if I can go- but I can still send the carriage for you guys, if you want.”

“Do you need help with that?” Marco inquired as he peeked his head into the frame, casually wrapping an arm around Star.

“Naaaah, no big deal,” Tom shrugged. “You two should go, though! I can just fly over whenever I finish this.”

Star and Marco looked at each other hesitantly. “Alright,” she said. “Carriage to our house in maybe five minutes?” A fire alarm went off behind her followed by a scream from Ponyhead and an even girlier one from Marco. “Maybe ten,” Star sighed, burying her face in her free hand.

“You got it,” Tom chuckled.

“OK, bye!” Star said with relief before hanging up. He rolled his shoulders from inside his jacket and ran his hands through his hair before stepping into the main foyer, taking advantage of the space to summon the carriage and its horses, the incantations coming effortlessly to him. Demons had been fortunate enough to retain their powers on Earthni, but the location underground and the relative lack of portaling methods available left them even more isolated than previously. While most of the other kingdoms had dissolved or integrated into a loose coalition of government covering all of the Echo Creek area, the Underworld had been content to stay completely under the banner of Lord and Lady Lucitor, and Tom found himself pitching in more and more in his role as Prince. In truth, he would have appreciated the company his friends were offering, but he knew how much it had meant to Star to be able to give this life up, and he didn’t want to drag her - either of them, really, considering Marco had earned an official title on Mewni himself - back into the boring thick of regal errands. Was Prince Thomas Draconius Lucitor really going to let some stuffy old book collection get the best of him? Hah, as if.

With a flick of his wrist, the half-demon shuttled the carriage to the surface in a pillar of flame, barely looking and instead pulling out his new phone. He was still getting the hang of the new and improved Reflectacorp’s Earth tech integration, but he’d at least learned how to open yesterday’s text conversation thread from its new message notification.

Janna: anti-gravity potion attempt 4 failed. affected bottle glass itself and launched into sky. note to self: work under roof. star and marco’s suggestions didnt work either. not all bad though, it went towards cloud kingdom lol

Tom: careful, don’t hit pony’s ego and make it fly even higher ·;) btw pony + starco are going shopping in underworld soon. im stuck working for mom though.

Janna: stores r lame. even in underworld. and srsly dude u gotta stop using starfans dumb name for them. otoh it bugs them so actually nvm go 4 it

Tom: it was mine first >·:( it saves letters when they’re together!

Janna: which is always

Tom: exactly. speaking of which, they’re here ttyl

Star stepped out of the carriage in a nice white polka dotted green dress, quickly followed by Marco, the pair’s fingers remaining intertwined until they gave him a hello hug, and Tom honestly wasn’t sure they’d stopped holding hands even then. Ponyhead burst out a moment later with her phone floating in front of her pointed at herself, and she was in the middle of a monologue to no one in particular.

“-so yeah anyway as you all can see we have now arrived in the Underwoooorld. So yeah this is, like, basically the best place on all of Earthni to go shopping as I’ll be showing you today. Oh yeah, I guess some demon boys live here too. Oh my goodness, say hello you guuuys,” she rolled her eyes as she butted in between Star and Tom, side-eyeing him for a split second before grinning back into the camera. After all this time Pony still hadn’t dropped the passive aggression over his and Star’s messy history; Tom had to admit it was a bit understandable, but did she really have to keep it up in such an annoying way? He rolled his eyes - it was Ponyhead he was thinking about here. “OK, the Ponyhead Experience will be taking a short break. Tune back in soon! Love y’all, buhbye!” She snapped the phone shut and caught it with her tongue. “Ugh, why do all of my vlogs with you dorks get like ten times as many viewers? Tom, you were in the shot for like three seconds and do you know what happened? 2000 more people tuned in! What the heck! It’s like, just because I have one less horn and one less eye I’m not exciting to you? But I can’t stay mad at my adooooring fans.”

“Must be the Lucitor charm.” He flashed a toothy smile and a pair of finger guns at her, accidentally flinging his phone across the room in the process. “Totally planned,” he blurted out with a much less authentic grin. Marco chuckled and picked it up, handing it back and patting him mock-sympathetically on the shoulder while holding back a smirk.

Star giggled but tapped her foot impatiently, looking around the room nervously. “OK, great catching up, but on the way here I checked the website and the headband shop is almost out of stock! We have to go, now! Let’s move it, people! Tom, can we borrow the carriage for the day?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine by me.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou, you’re the best!”

“You sure you don’t need anything?” Marco inquired again.

“You heard the girl, Marco, my audience wants to see us get our shop on!”

Tom blew a raspberry, pushing them towards the carriage. “Relax, it’s nothing. I’m practically done already! Tooootally almost done!”

Marco finally relented, nodding his assent. Star was bouncing up and down so much that she looked ready to launch around the room. He giggled as she wrapped both her arms around his middle and kissed his cheek before hauling him the rest of the way into the carriage. “C’mon boo, mama needs a new pair of horns. Plus we can get whatever you need, too! I saw a few things in the catalog that would look preeeetty good on you,” she sing-songed, walking two fingers up his chest to boop his nose after they plopped down onto the seat together. Ponyhead mimed vomiting at Tom, who silently laughed in response; they were so engrossed with each other that Tom was fairly certain they wouldn’t have noticed even if he’d shouted his laughter, though. He blankly stared at the spot the carriage had been for a few seconds after it exited in a blaze.

“Pretty gross, right?” Tom started and launched a fireball in the direction of the voice, hovering away from the intruder. A split second after, his vision caught up with his instincts and saw Janna in her usual green shirt and beanie and yellow skirt, sans jacket, nonchalantly sidestep the flame. “You do the same thing every time, you really need to work on that,” she chided with her arms crossed and a devious smirk on her face.

He rubbed his temple and gestured at her in sullen disbelief. “How did you-”

“Roof of the carriage.”

“Huh.” An eyebrow up in surprise, studying her expression. “You never usually, you know, answer that.”

She shrugged, kicking a boot into the hard stone floor. “Whatever, guess I’m just bored. Besides, half the reason I do that is to get a rise out of Marco,” she slyly snickered, and Tom couldn’t help but join in. “Alright, demon boy, what adventure are we going on today?”

Tom crossed his arms apprehensively. “Just trying to find a book for my mom, not really much of an adventure.”

“Like I said, dude, I’m bored and shopping is dumb. I don’t mind hanging out here for a study session or whatever, your family’s got great taste in decor.” She picked a skull off the ground and tossed it back and forth between her hands. He grinned back at her, grateful for the company. “So what kind of creepy curses are in this book?”

The pair started walking back into the study as their conversation continued. “Don’t think there are any. It’s called ‘Historia Homewnum’, according to my mom, so it’s probably a history book but that’s all I know.”

“Darn. Demon history’s bound to be pretty cool, though.”

“You’d be surprised how little actually happens down here, it’s just a lot of maintenance. Last month the most important thing I did was a ribbon-cutting ceremony at a new boba cornshake shop, it’s really caught on here since the Cleaving. But man is it good! Marco was right, the little pearls are just so tasty, I like the creamed corn version best.”

“What is it with you and corn, seriously...” Janna shuddered.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” He knew he’d gotten distracted thinking about the delicious creamy beverage, but that didn’t seem like an adequate reason to look so horrified, especially coming from Janna. Not able to figure out any other reason she might be disgusted by his comments, he got his thoughts back on track. “Really don’t know why she wants this thing so much. Anyway, I already checked the entire study for it, and the search archives don’t have anything either. Oh well, what can you do, might as well just give up and-”

“Found something,” Janna piped up, somehow already in the computer chair with her feet on the desk.

“Really? How?” he asked incredulously, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“OK, I didn’t actually find the book, but maybe we should check this place out.” He leaned into the screen to see a Mewgle search for ‘how to find weird book in underworld’ on the screen.

“I already tried that, Janna!”

“Yeah, but your antivirus was blocking this link to some place called the ‘Librarinth’.”

Tom slammed his palm into his forehead. “Of course, the Librarinth! How could I not think to look there, that’s where all the oldest books are. Why was it getting blocked?”

She clicked on the link and both recoiled at the sight: an abhorrent patterned background with almost unreadable randomly colored text and low quality cartoon images scattered all around the page. “Yeah, it’s awful,” she said in response to his obvious horror. “Seriously, whoever must made this website must be, like, a thousand years old.”

“Probably , yeah, but why does that have anything to do with-” His eyes widened in realization as he clapped his hands together in contemplation. “Right, humans and their lifespans. Go on.”

“Look.”

She scrolled past the despondent, blurry faces of demons of all shapes and sizes in the staff section until she arrived at the catalog, folding her arms triumphantly. Tom excitedly butted in, typing into the search box and being greeted with a loading wheel. “Uh, Janna? It’s not working.”

“Pfft, yeah, I might actually be dead by the time the search finishes. But that doesn’t matter because they have our book. It’s the header image for the whole catalog.” He squinted and brought his face closer to the monitor, and to his surprise the title was clear as day on the cover of the book, although all the other information was too difficult to make out. “Alright, let’s go. Main page says the Librarinth is on Floor 216.”

With a snap of his fingers, the demon elevator was summoned into a bookshelf much as it had been the day they had dealt with the Blood Moon. Relicor’s shrieking, which had slowed to a whimper since they’d left, resumed in full; fortunately they began descending, which quickly put them out of earshot. Tom awkwardly stretched his arms, unsure what exactly to say. She was his friend, yes, but he was never the best at small talk, and Janna being Janna didn’t make that any easier. After long, messy years of broken hearts and misguided feelings, he finally felt comfortable forging friendships, but even though they got along quite well there was something about Janna that made that vibe a lot less effortless than with Marco or even Star. Thoughts of his other friends reminded him of something. “Uh, by the way… how did you even know about the carriage earlier?”

“A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.”

“Pony was posting about it every 15 seconds,” he guessed, calling Janna’s bluff.

“Touché. Every 10, though,” she coolly responded. “Ha, now she’s just flipping out because Star and Marco have way more likes than her selfies.”

“Figured you’d have him bugged or something,” Tom chuckled as he scooted over to get a look at Janna’s screen, and sure enough there was a picture collage of Star sitting in Marco’s lap with tens of thousands of likes and comments already. They were laughing their butts off at themselves in a mirror in front of them with novelty sunglasses, fake mustaches, goofy props, and even a few absurd full-body costumes; Ponyhead joined the fun for a few but just as often butt in trying to take over the mirror by herself.

“Ew, no, I disabled it all months ago. Boyfriend Tom was already too cutesy for me, and you two just had a little flirty fling. Do you think I’d really want to see or hear whatever Star and Marco have going on? They’re, like, deeply in love, or whatever, and it’s gotten even worse in the last few weeks.”

He murmured in tacit agreement. Now that he thought about it, they had seemed even more affectionate than usual, but he wasn’t too keen on uncovering why that might be. The ding of the elevator saved him from any further speculation, and he and Janna stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, which was empty with cobwebs coating most of the weathered stone walls. Janna looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Anyway, so the Librarinth is basically a combination of a library and a labyrinth-”

“Right, I got that,” she curtly retorted.

“The legends say that some ancient librarian demons wanted to challenge any who sought knowledge, so they hid all the books in a giant maze that only the worthy could navigate. But everyone who made it still decided to organize it thoroughly for some reason, and you still had to check out the books and bring them back and all that.”

She ran a finger over the dust on the front counter, and the surface of the desk sizzled in response, causing her to pull her hand back before poking the bubbles that formed with a curious smile. “So why is it completely empty?”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “Weeeeeeell, after a few people went missing or insane, everyone realized it really wasn’t a great way to, you know, run a library. Grandpa actually started collecting books to try and get them away from this place. No one really knows what goes on in there, but as far as I know it’s still maintained even though no one uses it. The kingdom stopped staffing the lobby but they could never just shut it down because anyone who tried, well-”

“Went missing or insane. Sounds cool, I’m in.”

“You sure?”

“Dude, you brought me to a wicked hell maze filled with psychotic demon nerds. Maybe there’ll be bottomless pits or a wicked dungeon boss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Mr. Lucitor,” she purred, running a finger up his chest and flicking his nose.

“Haha, very funny. And it’s Prince Lucitor,” he sarcastically chided, poking her arm in response before crossing the room with her following, but he couldn’t help but hide that he was flustered. Seeing Star and Marco’s relationship in the past year had reinforced his already-firm convictions about romance: he wanted someone with whom he could be life partners in all ways, not just handholding and rooftop picnics. Otherwise, what would be the point? He’d made that mistake enough times, and even just a light jab at the notion of him casually flirting struck made him feel self-conscious about that past. Finally his reflection was halted when he found what he sought: a large wrought iron door furnished with ornate demonic symbols and various carvings of mythological creatures dwarfed them both. With a soft, steady flame for light, he brought his hand up and ran it over the rusty engravings. He jumped back with a gasp as the fire spread into the lines of the door, lighting up the patterns on it and causing it to creak as it slowly opened.

“Nice,” Janna muttered in awe before strolling inside, with Tom hesitantly following. She was the most eager of their little group to dive headfirst into the unknown, even more than Star most of the time, but he trusted her gut.

They started walking down the long, cramped hallways, hearing only the sound of their own footsteps on the cold floor. Janna peeked her head into a small doorway that appeared to their left, earning herself an explosive blast to the face and getting knocked onto her butt. Tom slammed the door shut and leaned in to read an inscription next to it. “Incinerator for any books too damaged or damaging for further use. Probably not the right place.”

Janna huffed, brushing herself off and finding scraps of paper among the char. “I can see that. Seriously, what kind of labyrinth labels its doors?”

“Maybe one run by book nerds,” Tom offered, gripping her hand to help her up.

“So it’s just as bad at being a labyrinth as it is a library. Neat. Great adventure.”

Tom pressed on, keeping his focus ahead of them. “Hey, I’m just here to help my mom. You’re the one that said you were fine with anything.”

“Fine, fine. Just saying, I could be working on my potions or something.” She pulled a glass bottle full of purple liquid from her skirt pocket and casually tossed it at a wall. Janna snickered at Tom’s yelp when it shattered, but found herself joining him in backing away when a chunk of stone quickly deteriorated and slammed into the ground at incredible speed. She went over and carefully kicked a pebble, finding it impossible to even budge. “See, this was just a stupid pro-gravity potion. Worthless.”

He leaned against the stable wall opposite the hole, sighing. “I’m sure there has to be something interesting here. What if we, I dunno, make it a competition or something?” His frustration with both the situation and Janna were there, yes, but he still wanted to try and get something fun out of the day.

“Go on,” Janna said, eyes flickering up from the bottle that she was tossing between her hands nonchalantly.

OK, maybe he should have thought further ahead. His arms flailed as he scrambled to come up with an idea. “OK, so, uh, whoever finds the weirdest thing in this place in the next hour wins. Just call them out if you think you found something. Or whoever finds the book, whichever comes first, yeah. Mom still needs it.”

“Momma’s boy. I respect that. You’re on, Tom.” Janna cocked an eyebrow, staring at him for a second before pushing off the wall into a sprint, opening the first door she could find. “Empty. Another empty. Three empties, dammit.”

Tom used his flight to travel more smoothly from door to door on his side of the corridor, but still found himself losing ground as he took the time to read the sign posted by each threshold. The ‘Demonic Studies’ room had a very ornately ghoulish aesthetic, with macabre skeletal models throughout. Definitely something to show Janna on the way out just for the aesthetic, and it’d have been weird for most humans, but it wasn’t any more abnormal than what the two of them were used to as a daily routine. Another room for astronomy had an exquisite planetarium dome, but it turned out to be rather useless as the Underworld did not, in fact, contain any stars since it was underground. There was, however, a plentiful selection of guides to stalactites stocked on the shelves. The next four whole sections were devoted to anger management self-help books, which only made him waste precious seconds cringing at old memories.

His pace picked up as he kept going from door to door finding nothing but normal library fare, although he had to admit it was certainly well-maintained. On any other day he might actually enjoy some of the things here, but today he was on a mission to get out of here so they could actually have fun elsewhere.

‘Bookworms’... now that had potential. What sorts of hybrid creatures could lurk behind the inches of wood? “I think I might have found something!” he shouted, throwing open the door only to receive a harsh shushing. Within were only elderly demons in cozy sweaters reading by candlelight, all now glaring at him with an intensity that reminded him of his mom’s own rare reprimands. “Never mind,” he loud-whispered back out into the hall as he gently closed the door and found Janna in a nearby corridor. “Ugh, why is there nothing interesting here?” Sparks trailed behind him from his mounting anger as he paced.

“Tell me about it, even ‘Wormbooks’ was just a bunch of regular novels, somehow,” she sighed. “I was hoping for a big long chain of open books slithering around on the ground, now there’s a party.” She slumped down against the wall next to the streak of flame he’d left on the ground, idly stamping it out with her boot until Tom sat down beside her.

“Wouldn’t a wormbook be the opposite? A big fat worm in the shape of a book?”

“Nah, it’d totally be a book made of a bunch of little flatworms all working together, duh. Still pretty lame.”

OK, now he knew something was up with her. “Janna, is- is something wrong?”

Her body slouched further down until she was almost horizontal on the cold floor, staring ahead of her like a zombie. “Being weird has just felt so pointless lately. Everything’s weird now, all the time! I’m wasting all my time trying to brew potions when there’s a shop that sells them on every corner. I got so bored that I even passed that same dumb test Marco did and now I’m done with high school, like, for real this time.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, that’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s easy if you know who to blackmail.” Tom blinked a few times, not sure why he’d expected anything different. “Everyone else is moving on with their lives, but I’m still feeding the same old possums and picking up the same old tennis balls. The whole point of my routine is that it’s different, it’s me, it’s my Jannanigans or whatever Star calls it, but it’s just not the same. I’m still into all that stuff, and Earthni’s actually really cool, but… ugh.” With that, her head fully sunk to the ground.

Tom brought his palms together over her head, opening and shutting his hands while wiggling his fingers around. “It’s a wormbook,” he said hesitantly, not really sure what he was doing. It was silly amusement, but perhaps that was just what she needed right now. Janna frowned and rolled her eyes, so he snapped at her arm with his hand puppet wormbook a few times.

“Alright, I get it,” she barked out, but her sullen demeanor slowly cracked under the onslaught of frivolity as she sat back up with an unusually ponderous look at him.

“Remember that time you took me bootsledding?” She nodded. “You told me that I needed to find a life outside of Star, and- and it was really great advice. Didn’t mean I still couldn’t like spending time with Star or anything, heck, I still do! But I just needed to get out of that rut of depending on it. Maybe you just need to do that, too. If doing your weirdness by yourself is normal, then adding something normal might be kinda weird.”

“That’s it.” Janna leapt to her feet, looking very suddenly invigorated. “That’s it!”

“Well, uh, glad you liked it. It was nothing, really, just trying to be a good pal-”

“Yeah, yeah, that too,” she waved dismissively, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit scorned. “If weird is normal then normal is weird. We were looking for the craziest things we could find here, but everything that should have been weird was normal, so we should be looking for the most painfully boring room here!” All three of Tom’s eyes blinked a few times as her words sunk in. Could it be…? “Tom, over here!” He hustled over to a particularly plain wooden door. Janna pointed at the plaque on the wall, which was far more faded than the others had been. “Look. ‘Government Records’.”

A burst of energy coursed through Tom’s blood, sparking life in him once more, and he could see the same reflected in Janna’s determined brown eyes. “And the book Mom wanted has something to do with history. Maybe it’s political history! Janna, you might be a genius!”

“Pfft, ‘might’. Now we just gotta…” She grabbed his arm, aiming it at the door, and he looked at her incredulously. “C’mon, dude, who knows what’s behind there. We’re gonna bust in with a demon blast, duh. Pew-pew!”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lip turning up in a begrudging smile gave away his agreement. The pair aimed at the door and blew it off its hinges before charging in through the smoke.

“I see you two have finally solved the grand riddle of the Librarinth!” A deep, booming voice greeted them from the smoke. “Janna Ordonia, Thomas Lucitor, you certainly took your time. I expected you to book it here much more quickly. No matter, for this room shall be your tome!”

“How do you know my-” Janna stammered.

“Uh, don’t you mean tomb-” Tom started at the same time before realizing the wordplay and groaning in misery. Wait a second… Epic threats, an obvious personality quirk…

“Dungeon boss!” the teens cheered together, glancing back and forth between each other and the remainder of the room in front of them obscured by shadow.

“It is I, the bookkeeper of this place. I guard the most sacred treasure of all… knowledge!” Paper rustled loudly, echoed throughout the cavernous space, far taller and wider than Tom had noticed when they first entered with a massive array of bookshelves many times taller than him in a single row near the back wall. The ground beneath them began to shake and Tom tossed a puff of light in front of him, exposing the wide chasm that had just opened up in the ground, swallowing all the shelving in the room. Neither were prepared for the sight that greeted them: a coiled mass unfurled from the abyss and slithering with purpose along the ground, finally raising itself up to stand at fifteen feet tall, swaying back and forth with enough force to create an artificial wind within the space. A closer look showed that the body was made of some peculiar segments of… books, of all shapes and sizes. The volume at the top of the chain was much larger and far more ornately embossed than the others, and on the blood red surface of the cover Tom could make out a set of eyes. As the picture became more and more clear, he could finally see what they were up against. Now THIS is a bookworm.

“Aren’t libraries supposed to be, like, public and free?” Janna blithely inquired.

“You are correct, child, but perhaps try reporting that to your friend there! The Lucitor family is the sworn enemy of this great Librarinth! That fiend Relicor pilfered our collection for his own use for millennia, and the rest tried to shut this place down for good. But worst of all, in the most egregious display of contempt I have witnessed since the dawn of writing itself… Prince Lucitor and his ilk have amassed twenty-six dollars in unpaid fees!”

The tension in the room nearly evaporated in a heartbeat as Tom and Janna paused momentarily before bursting out into raucous laughter.

“Seriously, dude? I could just, like, repay it.” He fumbled in his pockets for his wallet for a moment before being interrupted once more.

“Do not condescend to me, children! It is far too late to make up for these sins with mere currency. Revenge is my fee most overdue, now prepare to meet… Overdoom! I shall harness the power of the written word to spell your demise!”

Books were hurled from the depths of the crevice en masse. Tom stepped in front of Janna to blast them away, but they had taken on a life of their own and homed in on him, covers flapping in the air like wings. Behind Tom, Janna snatched one out of the air to thwart a flank attack. She grabbed his left arm and pointed it up, tapping his elbow frantically. He spared a glance and saw the paper tornado coalescing, and understood her intention. Demon flames surged out of both hands with Janna calling the shots for the left side and Tom focusing on his right. They used the opportunity to back up to a wall, letting them cover every attack vector but creating a stalemate they were sure to lose in time as the seemingly endless offense droned on. Overdoom for the time being simply floated out of the abyss, glaring harshly at them as more and more papers kept emerging.

“Wait, Tom, look…” Still using his hand, she pointed to a shelf that had fallen at an odd angle and hadn’t collapsed into the abyss. There was a large, torn-up poster on which he could barely make out the word “Historia”.

“That might be it,” he breathed out, starting to feel the burn from minutes of nonstop vigilant defensive demon blasts. Oddly, none of the books in that corner were joining the assault. Almost as if...

“It’s making them magical in the chasm.” Tom’s heart leapt up in his chest at the revelation, hope and adrenaline mixing in his veins to keep him fully alert. But charging in was a suicide mission and they clearly couldn’t win on raw firepower.

“Have you had enough? Are you children yet ready to come scrawling on your hands and knees to a-tome for the sins of your forefathers?” the imposing figure growled, bristling impatiently.

“Did it seriously just use the tome pun again?” Janna griped, running her hands past her eyes and down her cheeks in disgust. “For a word nerd, that’s just awful.”

“Yeah…” Tom absent-mindedly responded. He knew she was right, though. Book, tome, scrawl… even if the creature’s summoning powers were off the charts, and it wielded them with calculated ease, its cocky wordplay taunts left something to be desired. It struck him then: what if they’d been approaching this all wrong? If the battle couldn’t be won by blows, then they had to find another option, and Tom was ready to put his plan into action.

He quickly shook off Janna’s rather tight grip on his arm and stepped forward, mustering up a confident expression masking any fears he still had left. “Nice try, Overdoom. Your words aren’t scaring us. Learn to read the room!”

Its “body” immediately began wiggling violently in the air as it crawled a bit forward towards them. Tom paid careful attention to its back end, which had climbed a few feet out of the ground in the move. “How dare you! Petulant brats!” Literary fire and brimstone rained down upon them with more fury than ever, and the two backed up into a corner which was the best they could do in a room largely devoid of any cover.

“What the hell-” Janna whispered through gritted teeth. Tom wriggled his tail out and waved it in front of Janna’s face momentarily. “Now is not the time to-” She was cut off when a barrage of index cards launched at them with enough force to somehow chip the stone behind them on impact. Tom forcefully nodded his head towards the worm’s tail, waggling his own once again. Her eyes lit up much like his had and she nodded in understanding.

“Come on, is that the best you got? I’ve heard them all before, at least give us something novel!”

Janna stood beside him, and her grimace even managed to spook Tom a bit. “I’d alphabet you couldn’t do better even if you tried!” Not what he would’ve gone with, but hey, if it helped tick Overdoom off then who was he to say no?

“You can talk up a storm all you want, but no matter what volume of air you blow, all I feel is a not-so-rough draft!”

“ENOUGH!” Overdoom’s tail launched out of the chasm faster than either could follow, crossing the room in a heartbeat. Tom shoved Janna out of the way before it wrapped itself around him, dragging him much more slowly towards the abyss. His jacket and jeans mercifully protected the paper edges pressing into him, but it was still a painfully tight squeeze that left him gasping for air. His arms were uselessly pinned inside the embrace as he was dragged headfirst, but their hypothesis had been proven correct as all the books around them had dropped to the ground lifeless.

“Tom!” Janna called out. He strained his head to see she’d removed her beanie and had something purple in her hand that she lobbed at that moment. Through the haze of pain he recognized it as another of her potions. The arc was due to miss until he summoned his energy reserves and redirected it with a weak burst of flame from his boot. Though the glass was durable enough to not melt or shatter, the demonic heat changed the potion into a bubbling olive green milliseconds before it contacted a random segment of the behemoth they were fighting. All at once, its hold on Tom and the rest of its body went limp as it began floating lazily into the air before bouncing off the ceiling a few times like a balloon. Janna ran over and helped Tom up as Overdoom screamed inarticulately from many feet above. They traversed the chaotic mess towards the pile they’d spotted previous. After some digging around, he found ‘Historia Homewnum’ miraculously unscathed and protected by a large, sturdy slab of mahogany that had fallen flat on top of it. “I got it!”

“Cool, potion is wearing off. We need to go.” Janna calmly stated. Twin jets of fire erupted from his feet as he swiftly passed the book to Janna and scooped her up in his arms, carrying them across the room towards the door. After setting Janna down, he hesitated for a moment as she stood in the doorway.

“Do you think I should still pay the late fee? I feel kinda bad and-”

“TODAY MAY HAVE BEEN YOUR VICTORY, BUT TOME-ORROW WILL-”

Tom sighed in resignation with a very unimpressed expression. “OK, yeah, never mind.” And with a quick slam of the door, they were both out scot-free. They didn’t stop running until they arrived back at the elevator. Once inside, they slumped down onto the ground as they began the journey back up to the main surface of the Underworld.

“Woo!” Tom was caught off guard by Janna expressing visible joy, and it was immediately infectious. “Now that’s an adventure. Of course, demon fire is what makes the potions work. Makes a lot more sense. Stupid ink smudge, I burned all those lemons for nothing.” He belly laughed, falling over to the floor and clutching his gut as Janna kicked him in the arm.

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Her foot backed off after one last good hit. “So now you just have to give that book to your mom?”

“Yeah, should only take a minute. Want to come with?”

“Dude, she’s half a story tall and cries lava. I’d be honored. Oh crud, Pony’s current stream title is ‘WHY Y’ALL CARE MORE ABOUT EARTH TURD AND B-FLY THAN ME?!?!’” Janna showed him the notification on her phone. “That can’t be good.”

Tom pulled out his phone and called to see what was up. Pony picked up after only one ring and didn’t even bother with a greeting as she screamed so loudly that he lost hearing for a moment in his right ear. Her voice carried through the elevator car even without being put on speakerphone. “Yo Tom, why do all my Pony Pals just want to watch those two idiots kiss and cuddle? What is up with that? I even gave my fanbase a stupid nickname, they eat that stuff up, so why won’t they looooove meeeeee?” Business as usual with Pony, it seemed. “An-y-way, this whole shopping spree was amaaaazing, I am all kinds of extra fabulous now. B-Fly and Earth Turd took over the stream cuz the viewers, like, wanted a Q&A sesh but I’m only giving them twenty minutes! Hmph!”

“Might as well just make a whole show about them,” Janna chimed in, rolling her eyes a few times for good measure.

“Wait, demon boy, is Janna there? What the heck have you two been getting up to? Don’t tell me you too are getting your freak on too, I could not handle that T.M.I.-”

Yeah, there was nothing more to gain from that conversation. Tom flipped his compact shut, disconnecting the call. Wait, ‘too’? Did she mean- he shuddered involuntarily. You know what, nope, just not going to think about that one.

“So glad I turned off the cameras,” Janna mumbled, curling up into a ball on the floor, clearly not wanting to touch that whole situation either.

He opted to make contact with the other group via Marco instead - why he hadn’t just done that in the first place, he’d never know - and sent a quick text. “Marco wants to get dinner at the Waterfolk Kingdom in, like, an hour and a half. Apparently Star found some earrings she wanted at the last minute, and Pony got arrested for shoplifting three seconds after I hung up.”

Janna cackled in response. “Let’s just meet them there. My jacket got ripped to shreds by the possums last week, might as well get a new one while I’m down here. Been thinking about changing it up. I kinda like that style.” She lifted up his arm and poked at a button on the sleeve of his own.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can show you where I got it.” He stumbled over his words, still caught off guard by this new normal-person-Janna. The elevator dinged and the teens began their trek through the Lucitor castle in search of the queen. “So, the Librarinth... we’re definitely going back there at some point, right?”

“Totally, bet’s still not over. We should do this more often, you’re not so bad a friend.”

“You too, and yeah, we should.” Looking back on the day, it had honestly been one some of the most fun he’d had in a while, despite almost dying at least once. Tom still wasn’t sure what to make of this friendship brewing between them, but if it meant more days like this to look forward to? Maybe he could get used to that.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Christmas Eve With You (Let It Snow)

Summary: It's Christmas Eve in Lima Ohio, and Kurt has a lot to do: find the perfect gift for his dad, make a life changing decision, and--after an unexpected turn of events--escort pop star Blaine Anderson around town. You know, the usual...Based off of Netflix's Let It Snow

A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa to you all!! I personally celebrate Christmas and it's my favorite holiday and I've never written a Christmas Rom-Com AU so I decided last minute to write one lol. Relatively short, part one today, part two to come hopefully before the New Year!

Read on AO3

***

Congratulations!

We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted into the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts. With an acceptance rate of less than 4%, NYADA is one of the top tier schools for those wishing to perfect their

Kurt tore his eyes away from the page and slowly drew in a deep breath. He didn’t need to keep reading. He had practically memorized the damn thing in the first hour he opened the envelope. He began folding up the acceptance letter for what must have been the hundredth time and opened his desk drawer, tucking the letter underneath some old papers where his dad would never find it.

He pulled on his coat and any other winter wear necessary to make the freezing train ride to the swap meet bearable.

He would probably come home later and read the letter just one more time, scouring it to see if it had the answer he needed, but right now he had an elf to find.

***

“I’m looking for a Townhouse Moments Christmas Elf number forty-three.” Kurt explained to the man at the swap meet while this year’s crappy pop Christmas song played on in the background. “I ordered it online ahead of time, but they gave me number forty-two.”

The vendor simply looked at him with an almost bored (and definitely condescending) expression. “Listen, kid. You and every other collector out here are looking for this guy, and I don’t have him. You’re not gonna find it. Not on Christmas Eve.”

Kurt sighed, the background song seeming even more annoying than usual. Seriously, the swap meet couldn’t find any holiday music better than some lame Blaine Anderson single? “Look, I really need this figurine. My dad’s Christmas kind of depends on it.” He explained desperately.

The vendor shook his head. “Like I said, I can’t help you.”

Kurt angrily huffed and shoved the figurine he’d brought with him back in his pocket. “Merry Christmas,” he muttered under his breath before heading back to the train station.

At least the train had a stop near the Lima Bean. There was nothing quite like sitting with a warm cup of coffee in your hands while watching the snow fall down through the frosted windows.

***

Blaine stepped up from the platform onto the train, immediately searching for a seat in an area that wouldn’t be too crowded. He rarely got a chance to walk through the world without being gawked at like some Zoo animal, and he wasn’t about to have that ruined by an overexcited fan.

It’s not that he wasn’t grateful for everything his fans provided him, but sometimes it got to be a bit much and he needed a moment to just… retract from all the pandemonium.

He finally spotted a somewhat secluded area and headed towards it. Before he could make it, though, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out from behind him.

Blaine sighed before reluctantly turning around to face a boy, probably around his age, with pale skin and a nose slightly pinked by the cold they both just entered from.

The boy looked slightly startled, as if he had just realized who Blaine was, but remained calm.

“Look,” Blaine started. “I really don’t feel like taking any pictures right now.”

The boy pursed his lips and glared at Blaine. He then extended his hand out and Blaine looked down to see he was just returning his phone that must have fallen out of his coat pocket.

“You dropped this,” the stranger said with a bit of sting in his voice as he shoved the phone back into Blaine’s grasp.

“Oh,” Blaine replied lamely. “Sorry, I—“

Mystery boy scoffed and held up a hand to silence him. “Don’t bother.” He muttered, then turned around to find a seat.

Fair enough, Blaine thought.

Just as Blaine was about to head back to find a seat of his own, the boy whipped around, apparently not quite done with him yet. “And by the way,” he began. “You don’t even know anything about me. I don’t care for your trashy pop music, I’m not one of your Blaineiacs who swoons at just the mention of your name, and I’m definitely not the type of person who would just throw myself at someone just because they’re famous.”

“I never said—“

Once again, Blaine was cut off, but not by the (admittedly attractive) boy. The train suddenly jerked forward and the momentum sent the strange boy flying backwards into Blaine’s unsteady arms.

Blaine felt his breath hitch, caught off guard by the suddenness of it all. He looked down and caught the boy’s gaze, realizing he had some of the clearest crystal blue eyes Blaine had ever seen. Awesome. The universe throws a super cute guy into your arms and it’s someone who thinks you’re a complete asshole.

As soon as it happened, it was over. Before either of them knew it, the train was on its way, steady enough so that the pale boy had the balance necessary to shoot himself out of Blaine’s arms like a repelling magnet.

His face flushed bright red and he gaped at Blaine for a moment. “I–That wasn’t—that was the train,” he said in a huff before whipping around and heading to his seat on the other side of the train car.

Blaine followed him with his eyes the entire time.

***

Not even ten minutes into the ride, Kurt felt the train slowly come crawling to a stop. “No,” he pleaded under his breath. “Please, no, we’re so close to the Lima Bean,” he whined.

But sure enough, the conductor’s voice came over the intercom and loudly announced that the train would be stalled indeterminately due to the recent snowfall.

Kurt sighed and looked longingly out the window towards the Lima Bean. This was ridiculous, he could see the rooftop to his favorite coffee shop just over the snow-covered hill. There was no reason he couldn’t make it there without incident.

He drew in a steadying breath before standing up and heading towards the doors. Unfortunately, before he could completely escape the defective cab, another figure came up in front of him and unintentionally blocked his path.

It so happened to be none other than the Blaine Anderson. Of course it was Blaine. Of course it was the idiot celebrity who thought everything revolved around him.

“You headed to that coffee shop, too?” Blaine asked without turning back to look at Kurt, using his clover hand to block out the morning sun as he stared off into the distance.

Anderson only kept trucking on forward as Kurt followed his lead—coincidentally, of course.

“I’m not following you,” he felt compelled to say. “I also just want a decent cup of coffee.”

Blaine gave him a charmingly warm smile and hopped off the platform into the soft snow. “Of course. Then, I suppose, you wouldn’t mind keeping me company.”

Kurt followed his lead and hopped off the train, beginning to trudge through the snow after Blaine—again, completely by chance that they were headed in the same direction.

“Fine. Just know that this is completely coincidental!”

“Deal.”

***

“Deal,” Blaine said. “So, uh, do I get your name? I mean, it’s only fair since you already know mine.”

“Yeah, because everybody knows your name, right?”

“I–no-! That’s not what I meant…”

The pale boy narrowed his eyes slightly at him and looked him up and down like he was deciding whether or not to trust him. “Kurt,” he finally answered. “Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine extended his hand out and Kurt stared at it for a second before taking it. “Blaine Anderson—because I’m not going to assume anybody knows my name anymore.” Blaine noticed the corner of Kurt’s mouth twitch up, barely noticeable. “Nice to meet you, Kurt.”

They walked on for a few moments in silence before Kurt spoke up again. “Why did you even take the train into town?” He asked.

Blaine shrugged. “I wanted to get away from the tour bus for a while. It felt real being in there. Surrounded by real people.”

Kurt chortled. “If the train made you feel real, the Lima Bean is gonna blow your mind.”

***

Kurt and Blaine stood in front of the long awaited coffee shop, both staring up at the broken and incomplete sign at the top of the building. The worn out block green letters should have obviously spelled out “LIMA BEAN”, but time and weather had taken out the L.

“Say it to yourself,” Kurt instructed Blaine. “Out loud.”

“Ima Bean?” Blaine said questioningly.

“I’m A Bean.” Kurt said dismally. “Because nobody in this town is—or ever will be—anything but a tiny bean in the universe… at least, that’s what we would say growing up.”

“That’s… morbid.”

Kurt simply shrugged before heading in through the doors. “It’s the truth,” he grumbled, remembering the letter burning a hole in his desk drawer and knowing he could never ever let it see the light of day again.

The Lima Bean was empty for the time being, but Kurt knew it would be filled with McKinley high teens in no time.

The couple silently made their way to the counter and Blaine took note of the barista who was… not exactly someone he imagined to be working at a coffee shop, but a job was a job he supposed. The barista had his head down, showcasing his unique haircut (a mohawk) while he began to take their orders.

“Welcome to the Lima Bean,” he sighed before slowly upturning his head. “What can I…” Just as Kurt had expected, Puck’s eyes grew wide upon seeing Blaine. “Get for you today…”

“Uh, Puck.” Kurt started timidly. “This is Blaine… I didn’t expect you to be here, I thought you’d be preparing for your long awaited Christmas Eve Rager?”

Puck pouted. “Uh, yeah… so my parents flight was delayed ‘cause of the snow, and they caught me setting up for the party. Decided I should come to work instead. But!” He held up his index finger and his face lit up. “I convinced Sam to let me have it here! So if you’re free tonight, just come on down to I’m A Bean.”

Kurt stifled a laugh at his friend’s wild antics. “Sure thing, Puck. Though, at this point,” he jerked his head towards Blaine. “I don’t know where this day will take me.”

“Been there… anyways, what’ll it be?”

***

“Order for Kurt!” Puck called out.

It was both their orders, but they’d decided it’d be best if they didn’t use Blaine’s name. It turned out to be a good call considering the fact that a group of Titans and Cheerios walked in as soon as Kurt and Blaine sat down.

Kurt got up and shortly returned with their coffees and pastries.

“Are you going to actually finish all that?” Kurt asked, referring to the small mountain of food Blaine had ordered including a tomato and mozzarella panini, a snowman cookie, a breakfast biscuit, and his medium drip.

“Yeah, I don’t like to waste food. It’s like a charity thing for me.” At Kurt’s unamused look, Blaine rolled his eyes and gave his real explanation. “We uh, didn’t grow up with a lot. It feels kind of wrong to throw out a meal when I remember the days we didn’t get one.”

After a moment of processing, “Oh…” was all Kurt could pathetically offer, suddenly feeling like the biggest asshole in the world.

Here he’d been, making assumptions about Blaine when he really didn’t know anything about him. Kind of the way certain football players would do to Kurt.

Okay, so Blaine had kind of come off as a presumptuous dick, but now Kurt realized he himself was making that same mistake.

He watched as Blaine took a bite of the panini and the too full sandwich overflowed with cheese into Blaine’s upper lip. Kurt giggled. “You’ve got a little…” he pointed to his own mouth, trying to point out the stained area on Blaine’s face.

Blaine stuck out his tongue, but completely missed the area. “Did I get it?”

“Not at all,” Kurt laughed again. “But I’ll go grab you some napkins, your royal highness.”

As Kurt was standing up, Blaine opened his mouth to contest before noting the playful look on the other boy’s face.

“And add some more creamer to this bad boy while I’m up,“ He said, gesturing to his half full coffee.

Kurt was nearly to the condiment table when a hauntingly familiar figure blocked his path.

“Where you going off to, fairy boy?”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Azimio,” Kurt scoffed, trying to side step his long time tormentor.

Azimio followed Kurt’s move, leaving him in the same position he was not a moment ago. “Heard my boy Karofsky’s got a boyfriend over at Thurston high now.”

“Good for him.”

“That’s the farthest thing from good, my man. If it weren’t for you turnin him gay, we’d still have a winning offensive line.”

“I really don’t have any time for this,” Kurt lamented.

“Not so tough without your army brother to protect you, huh?”

Kurt opened his mouth to explain that he didn’t need anyone to protect him, but was immediately silenced by Azimio suddenly slapping the cup out of Kurt’s hand. Kurt flinched as lukewarm coffee splattered around him, the majority of it spilling right on his shirt.

“That’s for turning my best friend into a homo.”

“Hey!” Puck called from behind the counter. “Get out of here!”

“I am a paying customer!” Azimio argued.

“Read the sign, dickwad. Right to refuse service to anyone. That includes no good Lima Losers like yourself!”

Azimio rolled his eyes and angrily stormed out of the store.

As Kurt looked down his stained shirt, he could feel Blaine’s horrified stare burning right through his back. “Oh my god, Kurt. Are you okay?”

He turned around to face the other boy, still shaking with rage and that twinge of humiliation he always felt after scenes like this, no matter how hard he tried to push it down.

“You wanted real?” Kurt asked, feeling tears he would never let Azimio and Langanthal see begin to burn behind his eyelids. “How’s this? Only out gay kid in the entire town gets harassed on a daily basis—even publicly, as you just saw—finally gets an out when he gets into his dream school, and can’t even go because his dad is too sick to be left alone!”

Blaine reached out to place a comforting hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “Kurt—“

Before Blaine could finish his sentence, Kurt heard the table full of Cheerios become more chatty than usual, and he came to a startling realization. He quickly turned around, scanning the table to see that several of the McKinley High cheerleaders were whispering to each other and pointing at Blaine.

“Shit,” he muttered before facing Blaine again. “Restroom, back window,” he ordered as the head Cheerio stood up from the table and made a beeline towards them.

“What?”

“Just go!” Kurt ordered nudging Blaine in the right direction.

Blaine finally seemed to notice the onlookers and started to quickly walk towards the bathroom as one of the cheerleaders walked right behind Kurt.

He spun around to face her, a fake smile on his face. “Hello, there Satan—Santana!”

“Was that... Blaine Anderson?” She asked brusquely, staring down Kurt and crossing her arms.

Kurt raised his eyebrows before turning his head behind him to check that Blaine had made it to the impromptu escape route. He turned to Santana again and sighed, throwing his hands out in defeat. “Yes,” he said, feigning a trenchant dismay. “You caught me. Blaine Anderson is here, with me, at the I’m A Bean …” Kurt scrunched up his nose and smiled wryly at her. “And if you wait a few more minutes, I’m pretty sure TuPac is going to start a flash mob!”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. As she turned around her perfectly cooked ponytail nearly whipped him right across the face.

He watched her take a seat with the rest of the Cheerios and let out a sigh of relief before heading out to go find Blaine.

***

Blaine writhed and squirmed with all his might, but still wasn’t able to get enough momentum to hoist himself out of the window. He lay on his back, the top half of his body exposed to the bitter cold while the bottom half was stuck in the warmth of the I’m A Bean. The opening wasn’t big enough for him to turn around to get on his stomach. In that position, he could easily reach out for something and just pull himself out.

He he was straining to reach for the window to get some sort of leverage when he heard a giggle. And if he weren’t in the situation he was currently in, he might’ve taken more time to appreciate how beautiful that laugh was.

“Wow,” Kurt chuckled. “I wonder what TMZ would pay for a photo like this.”

“Not enough,” Blaine grunted, struggling for some sort of hand hold. “Now, are you— going to— help me— or not?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and headed over to Blaine.

He laced his arms underneath Blaine’s. “Alright,” Kurt said. “I’m gonna pull on the count of three, so brace yourself. One…”

“Wait, on three or after three?”

“What? Clearly on three, Blaine.”

“Wait, did that count as three?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Kurt tugged and Blaine slid out of the window with ease. The momentum of the pull sent them both toppling backwards—Blaine’s entire body on Kurt—towards the ground.

They hit the frozen ground with an “oof,” and immediately bust out into a fit of laughter.

“That went well.” Kurt giggled.

Still laughing, Blaine turned his body to face Kurt. “Yeah, we’re the epitome of grace.”

They settled into a surprisingly comfortable silence, both warmed by being in the other’s embrace. After a moment, Kurt cleared his throat and shifted backwards,as if he’d just realized the position they’d fallen into. He shuffled to his feet and brushed off some snow from his pants. “So, um, it was so nice—and super random and bizarre—to meet you,” Kurt said, shaking his head. “But I have to go. I have… things to do.”

Kurt headed off in the direction of his next destination, but not without Blaine following close behind. “Like what?”

“Like go meet my dad to watch my Jewish best friend play mother Mary in a multicultural holiday play. “

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Fine, don't tell me.”

“Oh, I only wish I were joking… Whatever, I have other things to do. Important things.”

“Like what?” Blaine pried again, hoping it was something he could accompany Kurt to. He was intrigued by him, and wanted to get to know him better.

“Like make the biggest decision of my life!” Kurt finally snapped, whirling around to face him. Blaine wondered for a moment if he had been too intrusive before Kurt deflated, like a cat un-bristling its tail. “I got into NYADA. It’s one of the best schools in the country for musical theatre, but it’s in New York and I can’t go.”

Blaine thought back to the incident that happened moments before he had nearly been discovered, then back to when he first met Kurt. No wonder Kurt was so wary of him.

“Because of your dad.”

Kurt gave a meek nod of confirmation. “He had a heart attack last year that put him in a coma for a few days, and now, he has… cancer… and we don’t know which way it’s going to go… I asked NYADA for a deferral, but they said I would lose my scholarship.”

They both stayed silent for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say after that. “Sorry for the huge downer,” Kurt mumbled. “I just… haven’t said that to anyone yet. Aside from kind of yelling it at you in the I’m A Bean a few minutes ago… Anyways,” he started up again, turning from Blaine and heading off into the snow covered terrain. “Merry Christmas, I gotta go.”

Blaine continued to trudge after him. “What, where?”

“I told you, multicultural nativity play.”

Blaine caught up with Kurt and sent him his most charming grin. “Sounds fun.”

***

“A hundred and fifty six piece elf village?” Blaine asked in astonishment as he and Kurt walked through the underpath of some trees.

Kurt let out a dry laugh. It sounded even more ridiculous aloud. “Some people’s dads collect coins, or artisan beer bottles; mine collects elves and their homes… So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

Blaine just gave him a halfhearted shrug. “I’ll probably just stay in the hotel room.”

“Christmas Eve in a hotel room?”

“I travel a lot. I’m used to it.”

“And I’m used to getting harassed by idiot meatheads, that doesn’t mean I like it.”

Blaine barked out a laugh, making Kurt’s stomach flip involuntarily. “I guess, just once… I’d like to stay in one place for a little while.”

Well, Lima isn't the worst place to spend Christmas Eve, Kurt nearly said before stopping himself and realizing he would look like a total creep if he did. He lightly shook his head, trying to bring himself back to reality. Head out of the clouds, Hummel. He probably has a girlfriend on the tour bus waiting for him.

“So why does your dad like Christmas so much?” Blaine asked, breaking Kurt out of his thoughts.

“Oh. I think… I think it’s because my mom passed away between Thanksgiving and Christmas.” He took note of the sympathetic look on Blaine’s face before continuing. “So now I think he wants to make Christmas this big and spectacular thing… for me, I guess. I used to love the little figurines when I was little, because I kind of looked like them. My mom decided to start collecting them a few weeks before she died.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Blaine said, adding a gentle hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “But that’s pretty sweet of your dad.”

“Yeah… I guess it is.” Kurt smiled warmly. “He’s a great dad.”

The two boys finally reached the peak of the hill. The view overlooked a beautiful wintry scene, complete with frosted evergreen trees and a meadow blanketed in fresh pillowy snow.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

Kurt scoffed. “Snow can hide a lot… it’s like the spanx of weather…” Blaine laughed and another comfortable silence fell between them for a moment. “So, where did you grow up?”

“New York. Queens. Growing up, you had to be tough and my brother was… I, on the other hand, was a little more sensitive… and I think that came off as weakness to the other kids.” Blaine shrugged it off. “But it was okay because I always had music.”

Kurt nodded and smiled understandingly. “I know exactly what you mean. The only thing that keeps me sane around here is the glee club. When I’m not singing, I don’t really feel… whole. It’s like—“

“Like you’re barely even a person.”

Kurt let out a little puff of air in astonishment. “Yeah… kind of exactly like that…” As they tread on, Kurt could hear the sound of ice softly crunching beneath their feet. “So uh, what do your parents think about your job?”

Blaine let out a short laugh that felt just the tiniest bit bitter. “Well, my mom supports me but… My dad doesn’t think performing is a real job. He’s really strict. He wasn’t too happy when I came out to him either, but he got over it… sort of.”

Kurt snapped his head up to look at Blaine, eyes wide as he processed the words he just heard. Came out, as in… “Wait a second, you’re…”

A smile tugged at the corner of Blaine’s lips. “Queer as a three dollar bill.” As soon as it was there, it faded. “But uh, it’s not something I advertise, you know? My dad thinks it’s better—safer, if I don’t.”

Kurt cocked an eyebrow, doing his best to push down the butterflies raging in his stomach. “Like a safer career move?” Why would Blaine’s dad care about his career if he didn’t even think it was valid?

Blaine shook his head. “When I was in middle school, before my first album, I went to a Sadie Hawkins dance with a friend; the only other gay guy in the school. While we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, these three guys came and beat the crap out of us.”

In an instant, Blaine felt Kurt’s hand on his. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“I uh, never pressed charges or anything. Just transferred and never looked back, which made sense at the time, but now I just regret not standing up to them.” Blaine looked right into Kurt’s crystal blue eyes as he came to a stop. “So if you ever get the chance to do what I didn’t, you should take it.”

***

They lumbered on through the snow, finally reaching the peak of a hill with a gentler slope than the last one.

Families stood huddled together while groups of children, wrapped up tighter than the presents under their trees, waddled to sleds and rode down the hill.

Kurt watched a smile crack Blaine’s face and he narrowed his eyes with a light suspicion. “What are you smiling at?”

“We should go sledding.”

“We don’t have a sled..?”

Blaine just picked up his pace to a light jog and headed towards a group of women huddled together. He faced Kurt, but kept up his jog in a backpedal. “Young moms; kind of my bread and butter.”

Kurt huffed out a laugh as he looked on at Blaine introducing himself to the star struck mothers. He offered to take a few selfies with them before shortly returning back to Kurt with—lo and behold—a sled.

A minute later they were at the edge of the slope and Blaine settled himself behind Kurt. Kurt felt his heart racing and if he was being completely honest, he couldn’t tell if it was because of the dropoff or the way Blaine was pressed flush against his back, his arms wrapped snug around Kurt’s waist so that he could take hold of the reins.

Blaine started to scoot the sled forward and Kurt felt his nerves kick in. “Wait!” He cried out.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just… despite living in a snow covered town for eighteen years, I’ve never actually been sledding before.”

Blaine leaned forward and rested his head in the space between Kurt’s head and shoulders. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

Kurt had absolutely no reason to believe Blaine—considering the short time they’d known each other—but for some reason, he found that he did. He believed he’d be safe with Blaine because he already felt safe with him. Safe enough to tell him about his mom, safe enough to confide in him about his dilemma with his dad, and now, safe enough to go sledding for the first time.

He nodded and felt himself pressing his cheek closer to Blaine’s. Blaine pushed them forward and off they went, down the gentle curve of the hill.

The air started rushing quicker and quicker against Kurt’s face, until they were riding at an enjoyable speed. Kurt felt Blaine’s arms close in a little tighter around him and he turned his head to smile back at the other boy, who graciously returned it.

The smiles were wiped clean off their faces when they faced forward once more and suddenly came into contact with a bump in the hill that sent Blaine tumbling backwards with an “oof.” Kurt managed to stay on, panic rising as he realized he had no control of the sled.

“Oh no. No no no,” Kurt yelped as he approached the sharp incline of a snow bank, unable to do anything to slow down or avoid the oncoming collision.

The sled went up the ramp and Kurt went flying, landing hard on a cleared path of snow he didn’t even have time to recognize as the road. He heard a harsh noise in the distance while he groaned and tried to gather himself. Kurt finally made it to his feet and the (now much louder and closer) noise finally registered as the revving of an engine from an oncoming car that was coming down way too fast for this weather.

The car seemed impossibly close and Kurt wasn’t sure he’d make it out of the way in time.

Out of nowhere, Blaine came racing across the road and practically tackled Kurt to the safety of the other side of the road.

The curly haired boy lay with his body pressed warmly against Kurt’s for a moment before clearing his throat and rolling off to the side.

Kurt let out a breath (of relief or disbelief, he really couldn’t tell) and watched it wisp away into the cold air. After the initial shock faded, Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine, who lay next to him looking just as dazed.

Of all the things he expected to do after a situation like this, feeling a smile start to curl on his lips definitely wasn’t at the top of the list. But Kurt took one look at Blaine’s (horrified) honey colored eyes and couldn’t help but think how ridiculous this whole situation was. Before he could help himself, he exploded into a fit of laughter.

Kurt felt an unfamiliar tingle in his chest—something light and warm, that he maybe only had a memory of. As his laughter grew and he watched a smile spread on Blaine’s lips, the glow spread down through his arms and legs and all the way down to his toes until his entire body felt sunny, despite being surrounded by mounds of snow.

[chaandknight]

Let me | Brian May |

Summary: Brian just wants to be your man. You let him. 4.2k words

A/N: Inspired by anons and also the song Let me by the one and only Zayn I swear I’m not promoting his new album or anything. 

Fluff isn’t my strong suit. Enjoy.

Tags: Fluff, smut, dash of angst, dumb word play, +18 content

Anonymous said: Could I get something with Soft Brian? Like fluffier than his hair? He’s just the sweetest human in existence, in my opinion. A picnic or night in with movies or like bowling lol 🖤

Anonymous said: Please can i have some soft brian may sin x it does things to my heart

This was a new call. Some new hotshot band you didn’t bother remembering the name of. Your friend had called, asking you come to the show and work your magic. You really shouldn’t of gone, an unfinished essay sitting on your table and seven other sheets of research journals to pour over and make notes for next week. There was a part of you that regretted getting into this life sty But you needed a break, so here you were. Crammed into a hall filled, people all around you. Honestly you couldn’t wait for the show to be over. People were ridiculous. You had the breath knocked out of you at least five times thanks to various elbows.

The band weren’t that bad. You actually enjoyed their music, finding yourself dancing along and singing blindly with them. After the band finished someone came up to you, security you presumed and asked you to come with them. You obliged, knowing full well why you were here. It wouldn’t take long, men were easy enough to seduce after a show. High off the show, not drunk enough for the after party yet. You just had to pretend to be interested, be sharp with your banter and not bruise your egos. You didn’t have a problem so far.

You were led to the bar at the back, the after party just starting. You thanked the man, making your way to the bar to order a drink. You made small talk with the people around you, not really paying too much attention to anyone. You suddenly wanted to get home, it wasn’t a good idea to come.

From the cheers at the door you could tell the band had just entered, you joined along with the crowd. Despite not knowing the band you still felt they deserved a cheer, it was a show well played. Not many bands could handle a crowd so easily like that. You stayed at the bar for a bit longer, watching the band disperse into the crowd. The blonde drummer already had a girl on his arm, he looked pretty enough to be a girl. Despite being exactly your type you didn’t want to work for his attention. The lead singer was the center of the crowd, still working off his stage persona, you didn’t want to work for his attention either. You divert your attention to the other two men. The guitar player and the bass player. The bass player seemed quite, more content just spending time with people instead of talking needlessly. Perhaps. You watched him for a while, wondering how he fit into the bands equation. Maybe it was your unfinished psychology essay that made you stay on the bar stool, slowly going through the crowd and coming up with fake personalities for each person in the room.

“Drink not strong enough?” you jumped slightly at the voice beside you, not expecting someone to be in such close proximity. The drink you had sitting on spilled, leaving a ring of beer around your glass and on your hand. You reached out for napkins quickly, not wanting the liquid to spill onto your clothes, he beat you to it though. “God, I’m so sorry. Let me, its the least I could do”

It was the guitarist. You smiled up at the tall man, the slightest bit intimidated by his height. He was busy cleaning up the spilt beer and so you had the chance to admire him for a bit before he finished. His hair was black, with curls falling down his shoulders and you had the urge to ask him if they were actually real but you bit your tongue. His lips were moving but you couldn’t quite remember what he said,

“Sorry, what?” you asked, confused. He just laughed, ordering you another drink.

“I’m Brian”

Sweet baby, our sex has meaning

Know this time you'll stay 'til the morning

You cleaned yourself up as best you could. However you couldn’t help your wrinkled clothes or the scent of sex that clung to you. Brian had gone to shower and you took that as your cue to leave. Usually they’d tell you to leave themselves, as soon as they were finished. But Brian didn’t seem like that. He was actually nice. Chatting to you at the after party, actually finding out your name and buying your drinks. You didn’t want it to be awkward so you took the decision into your own hands. Deciding to get dressed and leave before he came out of the shower. There was one problem though, you couldn’t find your bangle. The solid gold, priceless bangle that your late grandmother had given you. You dropped your jacket in frustration, going down to your knees to look under the bed.  Something was sparkling in the light and you just knew it was your bangle. You reached out, struggling to get it.

“Where are you going?” Brian’s voice came from the door of the bathroom. You froze, sitting up, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I uhm...I was going home?” you said, unsure of yourself with the way he was looking at you. He frowned and walked towards you, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Why?” is all he asked, confused. He seemed so genuinely confused that you couldn’t find it in your heart to turn him down. You took a beat to think up an excuse for leaving so soon,

“I wanted to get home, I’ve got class tomorrow”

“l’ll drop you off tomorrow, it’s not a bother” he insisted with a smile. He was on his knees, reaching underneath the bed and using his significantly longer arms to grab your bangle. “Let me,” he whispered, taking you hand in his. He took your arm, gently sliding the jewelry onto your arm. You felt your heart flutter, watching him kiss your knuckles gently before pulling away.

So you stayed the night.

Duvet days and vanilla ice cream

More than just one night together exclusively

You tried not to laugh, wondering just how long it would take for Brian to realise. He was eating his ice cream with such purpose, enjoying it so much that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was some on his nose. You grinned, watching him from over your glasses. Your ice cream was long finished, the summer heat forcing you to eat it messily before it melted. You never were the clean type, something Brian had teased you about mercilessly.

“You realise that I can see my reflection through your glasses right?” he asked, wiping his nose. You laugh, taking a tissue from the bedside table and wiping the rest off for him. You shrugged, turning your attention back to the book in front of you. A test tomorrow and you hadn’t left Brian’s flat for the past two days. You couldn’t believe yourself. He’d insisted on you coming over for the night, instead keeping you here for two days. Two whole days and you still felt like it had been just hours. The time passed quickly when you were with him. You had seen him more about three or so weeks. You wondered where all that time went, musing over the fact that you had stopped your band antics with your friends as well. You wondered if he had noticed. Or if he even really cared. Neither of you had discussed what this really was.

“Are you even listening to me?” he demanded, drawing you from your thoughts. You shook your head, a smile on your face. You tried hard to read the words on the book in front of you. You felt a weight drop on the side of your bed. You huffed, shuffling over to make room for the man who had just jumped on the bed. He rested on his stomach, his head on your thighs. He whined, actually whined like a puppy. “I need attention” he mumbled, trying to distract you by running his hands over your thighs. You pulled your legs away, trying to fight the smile on your face.

He reached out, but you were too fast for him. You pulled the book out of his grasp giving him a look. He didn’t falter under your gaze, instead sitting up and reaching over for the book you were just attempting to read. You leaned to the side, trying to push him away. You laughed as he covered your body with his in an attempt to grab the book.

“Oh, come on” he said, stretching out to reach the book. You pushed his chest, trying harder to stretch out your arm to keep your book out of reach. He adjusted his position, now almost laying on you to reach it.  “Just, let me..,,get....” he strained, grabbing the book from your hands. You huffed crossing your arms.

“Brian I need that” You protested, trying to grab it from him. He dodged your attempts, sitting up reading the page you were on. He tutted,

“You already know all this, why do you insist on reading it again?” He remarked, throwing the book away. Before you could scold him for it his lips were on yours again, pulling you into his lap.

Baby, let me be your man

So I can love you

“Babe?” his voice came from down the hall. You were busy trying to gather all your things. Pens, pencils, calculator just incase. Notes shoved haphazardly into your bag. You would pass this final with flying colours. At least that what you told yourself anyway.

“Hurry up breakfast is getting cold!” he yelled out again. You suppress a laugh. He was very adamant about making breakfast the morning before an exam. You grabbed your bag, rushing through the kitchen. You grabbed the breakfast wrap he had made you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before chugging the orange juice. He smiled at his handy work, “Here, let me get your bottle. You always forget it.” he handed you your favourite bottle. You smiled gratefully.

“What would I do without my fantastic boyfriend?” you mused, not realising what you said yet. He grinned,

“So I’m your boyfriend now?” You laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips and running out the door.

And if you let me be your man

Then I'll take care of you

You blew your nose, doing your best not to make too much noise. Brian shook his head,

“You said it was just allergies.” He had a hint of annoyance in his voice, still fed up with your insistence that you were fine. And you were. You just needed to rest for a day or so and you’d be better. They were just allergies. That lasted a day. Or two. But he didn’t have to know that. You drew the blanket around yourself tighter, closing your eyes and trying to ignore his constant reprimanding. He seemed to be like your mother, mumbling about how you never took proper care of yourself.

“Bri, they are just allergies. I’m fine” you insisted, blowing your nose yet again. Maybe your voice was deeper than before, and maybe you had finished all your herbal tea in an effort to soothe your throat. He stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed. He wasn’t buying it.

“Just let me take care of you, stop being so stubborn” he pleaded as he walked up to you, gently placing his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. At this point your head felt like it was filled with cotton. You just wanted to sleep and if letting him be a mother chicken was the only way you could do this, then so be it.

We're drinking the finest label

Dirty dancing on top of the table

You couldn’t name a better way to spend the year. The party was well underway and you found yourself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. Laughing and giggling like a school-girl. Brian held you close to him as you danced terribly next to him.

“Brian” you murmured, wrapped your arms around him and trying to get him to dance with you. He just laughed, gripping your waist and pulling you close. “Why aren’t you drunk?” you mumbled, running a hand over his chest. Brian wasn’t really the one to let go, especially at a crowded party like this. You’d have to get him drinking now, just to ease the self control he always had. He pressed a kiss to your temple, guiding you to the couch that was to the side of the room.

You pouted as he pulled you into his lap, holding you close to him. He pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver. You hands were on his shoulders out of habit, smiling at him.

“Why won't you dance?” You asked, pecking his lips. He was clean shaven tonight, hair falling over his shoulder - as curly as ever. You let your eyes go over his profile, admiring how good he looked and how he was completely yours. You felt your heart flutter at that thought, fiddling absentmindedly with his hair.

“I want to see the fireworks properly” he confessed, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You nodded the slightest bit, encouraging him to continue. He let out a small laugh, leaning back against the sofa. His hands firmly on your waist, as if it was a sign to all the men (and women) in the room that you were his. It sent a thrill through your spine. Whenever you both were out he would have to be touching you somehow, some form of physical contact was needed for him.

“They're just….explosions you know?” He tried explaining. You tilted your head, still confused as ever. He pulled you closer, so you were resting against his chest.

“Let me explain properly…” And that was it for the two of you. The party long forgotten, you were captivated by his explanation of fireworks. You both somehow drifted from that topic to space, supernovas and such to exact. Maybe it was just how time passed when you were with him. Maybe it was the twinkle in his eye when you showed enthusiasm whenever he ‘nerded’ out. But in that moment you realised,

“I love you” you blurred out, interrupting his explanation about the formation of the Earth. He paused, processing what you said. You bit your lip, trying to stop the nerves forming. You had no idea how he would react. He tried to stop the smile on his face. Tried to hide it but he couldn't. Instead, he leaned forward, enveloping your lips in a kiss.

“I love you too” he whispered as he pulled away. Your heart soared, and you wished you could describe the feeling that was coursing through your veins. You were so filled with love for the man in front you. The only thing you could do was pull him close and kiss him over and over. He reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm. The two of you stayed that way for god knows how long, just kissing each other. You pulled away properly first, leaning your head on his shoulder, whispering those three words again. You couldn’t help it - you really, really meant them.

“You know love is actually a chemical reaction?” He supplied helpful. You laughed, lifting your head up to look at him,

“I know.” you pecked his lips, “studying psychology remember?”

Maybe you hadn’t noticed that everyone had cleared out of the room, crammed onto the balcony. It wasn’t until Freddie came parading in, plopping down on the couch next to you did you realise that the count down was already over.

“Happy new year loves!” he declared, grabbing your face and planting a kiss straight on your lips. You jumped back, mortified. “Fred!” you exclaimed. You looked to Brian, to see what his reaction was, but your view was blocked by the back of Freddie’s head.

“Thought I’d share my new years kiss with everyone I love!” he declared, getting up and literally flying off to god knows where. You watched him disappear into the crowd. Brian and you looked at each other for a second, before laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

He pulled you back into another kiss.

Long walks on the beach in April

Yeah, I promise, darling, that I'll be faithful

The day had been too long. You were tired and drenched in sweat. Maybe it was everything that had happened in the past week leading up to your foul mood. Your final essay, fifty thousand words long, lovingly typed up and rewritten three times had somehow been set on fire. Your request for an extension, also ruined by a tea spill. Your car breaking down, your best shoes being broken. It was just a bad week for you in general. To top it all off you were left alone in yours and Brian’s shared flat.

He hadn’t called in three days, which was rare for him. Usually he’d call as soon as he got into a new town, giving you the number for the next hotel they were booked at. The lack of phone ringing made your anxiety grow. You had spent the past two nights by the phone, practically begging it to ring. It was probably nothing. He was probably tired from playing every single night and then travelling to a new venue the next day. Busy with interviews and such.

That was until you had heard whispers from your friends, something about groupies and the band. A friend of a friends who managed to seduce one of the band members, coming back to them again and again after three shows. You felt your heart sink. It couldn’t be Brian...Could it? John was head over heels in love with his girlfriend, Roger didn’t bother with connections, Freddie was much the same as Roger. That left Brian. Your Brian.

Your thoughts were working against you that day, constantly coming up with various scenarios. It was your insecurities praying on you, the previous line of unfaithful boyfriends coming back to haunt you. You grew tired of the gossip, you excused yourself not bothering to say goodbyes and headed home. The past weeks exhaustion came crashing down on your as soon as you stepped through the door. You crawled into bed, only bothering to kick off your shoes before wrapping the blanket around yourself. You tried convince yourself that Brian was here with you as you drifted off to sleep…

You woke, images of Brian and some other woman in your head. You felt sick, tears already forming in your sleep riddled eyes. You felt like you couldn’t breath for a few seconds, the thought of losing Brian to someone else too overwhelming for you. The phones ringing still continued. For once you were thankful to be dragged out of sleep because of the phone. You made your way over to the counter where the phone was attached, picking up,

“Hello?” your voice was thick with sleep.

“Oh god, I didn’t wake you did I? I checked the time I thought it would be okay to call?” Brian’s voice came from the other end of the line. You felt a lump form in your throat, the thoughts from before weighing on you, forcing you to grab the phone set and sit on the floor.

“No, no.. I uhm..” you wiped away stray tears falling, cursing yourself for falling apart like this.

“Darling? Is everything alright?” concern in his voice. You sniffled, trying your hardest not to burst out crying,

“I just… Miss you and my friends were talking about some groupie and how she’s with the band all the time and how she’s made one of you fall in love with her and you’re ready to elope with her and I just didn’t want to think it was you but what if it was and I couldn’t handle it Brian I fucking love you and I hate being so far apart from you and I just -” you were cut off from your blabber,

“Sweetheart, we haven’t been at a show in three days” he explained. You paused, tears still on your cheeks and mind still racing.

“What?”

He just laughed,

“Our bus broke down in some desert. We had to wait for two bloody hours until someone drove past and gave us a ride. Let me tell you, the town we were in was horrendous. Honestly it had dirt everywhere and I can’t even begin to describe the smell…..”

You zoned out for a second, processing his words. Your heart leapt, all your worst fears were just that. Fears. You took a breath to steady yourself.

“I’d never betray you. You know that right?”

Give me your body and let me love you like I do

Come a little closer and let me do those things to you

You were going to explode. At least, that’s what it felt like. Waking up to have Brian’s head between your legs was almost like a dream. He had chuckled when you stirred, remarking about how long it finally took for you to wake up. It didn’t take long for him to get to work once you were awake and willing, threading a hand through his curls. His tongue was skilling in eliciting the loudest noises from your mouth. You could feel it against your clit and you let out yet another moan, afraid that the neighbours would wake.

You were a mess as his tongue explored your folds, bringing you to the edge faster than you could possibly imagine. Your hands alternated between tugging his hair and gripping the sheets on your sides. It was like you had no control over your body, your mind only focused on one thing. You gasped his name, feeling your breath quicken. You were close, the only thing coming out of your mouth was his name, chanting it over and over like prayer.

You let out a breathless moan as you came, one hand tugging his hair and the other fisting the sheets. You let your eyes close, trying hard not to float away into another universe. That was until his fingers were on you again. You could of cried when he slipped a finger into you, coaxed in easily by your own wetness.

“Bri...…” you whimpered, gasping at the intrusion. He shifted, now laying next to you, thumb against your clit and pushing another finger into you.

“Relax darling” he murmured, pressing kisses to your collarbone. “Let me make you feel good..”

This feeling will last forever, baby, that's the truth

Let me be your man so I can love you

“Stop fiddling and just let me take the photo” he whined, trying his best to get a good shot of you in your graduation gown.

“God I can't believe I'm actually here” you remarked, fiddling with the flimsy cardboard in your hands. Brian chuckled, placing a hand over yours to stop you from tearing the graduation program further. He put his camera back into his back, stepping closer to you. He pulled you closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“You worked hard to get to this point, love” he gently titled your chin up so you could face him. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was in knots and you could feel your hands shaking. You looked at him, uncertain and shaken with anxiety. He just smiled back, the same reassuring smile he always gave you during late night study sessions. The same smile he gave you when you went to submit your final essay. The same smile he was wearing when you were about to open your results letter. It grounded you, shushing your anxiety so it was just a faint hum in your head.

“Now, you're going to go up there” he started, adjusting your hair the slightest bit, “you're going to shake the Dean’s hand” he made sure your cap was on properly. “And you are going to walk off the stage” he kissed your nose “like the Queen you are” he finished. You gave him a small shove, smiling despite your previous anxiety attack. You pulled him into a hug, on your tippy toes so you could kiss his cheek.

“Thank you” you whispered into his ear before pulled away. He grinned,

Baby, let me be your man

So I can love you

And if you let me be your man

He was on one knee, ring glinting in the candlelight. You felt tears prick at your eyes. Honestly speaking you had found the small box a week ago. You had hid it well, unable to stop the butterflies building in your stomach. It was just a matter of when. He didn’t disappoint.

Brian had brought on the beach for a picnic. You didn’t expect it then, it was normal to go out for picnics. But when he dropped to one knee as you were getting ready to pack up you couldn’t help the small gasp.

“I had an entire speech prepared, a song as well but I honestly can’t remember any of it..Let me be your husband… please..” he pleaded, eyes desperate. He was a little unsure, sure you had talked about it before but there was still a part of him that doubted himself.

You nodded frantically, dropping down to your knees. Unable to helpful yourself, you kissed him, almost toppling him over onto the sand.

Then I'll take care of you,

For the rest of my life

For the rest of yours

For the rest of ours

Requests are closed, but feedback is always welcome!

[pepplemint]

Fanfic Recc:s

I had this since a long time back actually, I think. I figured I might as well post it and give ya’ll something lol.

  —————————-——————-———GEN——————————-——————-———-

Room with a View by isabeau25 (10,089 words): Lance manages to carve out a space for himself in a hidden part of the castle. The rest of the team find their way there eventually. ———- This was one of those fics I didn’t really expect to get as into as I did. Is really sweet and focus on the original team as a family. You know how you sometimes see art where everyone in a giant cuddlepile and it’s just too sweet and everyone is so comfortable with each other? This have got the same feeling, plus some Langst

————————————————-  Accepting Amelioration by XILVerify (4887 words): Shiro trusts his team with his life, but after what he and his daemon experienced at the hands of the Galra… well, trusting them with his soul is the one thing he just can’t bring himself to do. Or so he thinks. Daemon AU. Post season 1 speculation.  ———- Shiro and Hunk is a pair that have gotten very little bonding time in canon, so seeing them together here put in a situation where they are trapped in a distressing urgent situation is both interesting and engaging. I don’t know much about His Dark Materials or daemons to be honest but it’s explained well enough within the fic and I enjoy these representations very much. WARNING: Mentioned previous-to-fic assault

————————————————- The Purity of Sin by IcyPanther (105,002 words): Lance's first diplomatic mission had gone wrong. Very, very wrong. Instead of allies on planet Macka, he and Keith found only enemies who want to sacrifice them to their Goddess. The two Paladins are going to have to work together to survive the harsh desert, severe injury, relentless pursuit, with the added problem that in addition to losing copious amounts of blood, Lance is losing his senses one... by one... by one... ———- I’m sure most people have heard of this fic already but god damn it is INTENSE. You will feel stuff. I am terrible at keeping attention and tend to stay away a bit from longer fics but I couldn’t stop reading. WARNING: Explicit violence, religious rituals, character death

————————————————- Bury the Sun by maychorian (26,734 words): Sam Holt has been a captive of the Galra for more than a year. He has lost all hope of escape or rescue. But when a new prisoner arrives in his underground cell, a boy who seems to carry the sun in his smile, everything begins to change. ———-    An unexpected pair as Pidge’s dad kinda takes Lance too under his wings. This is really sweet at the same time as you can never forget the terrible situation they are really in. WARNING: Violence and mentions of torture

————————————————- I'll Be Your Journal by BreakTheDawn (5756 words): “Lance,” Hunk had pleaded. “I can’t believe you just did that to me,” Lance covered his face as his breaths started to become heavy and uneven. Looking back, Hunk doesn’t know how he knew, but he did. He knew at that point that if he didn’t fix that. Didn’t fix Lance. Then he would lose him. Hunk could not let that happen

....

Or, that one time that Hunk crossed the line. ———-  I just love Hunk and I love seeing his perspective. Also Hunk and Lance friendship... There’s too little of it in the world honestly.

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The Cost of Winning by IcyPanther (9596 words): "The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire," the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. "And as such you have no use except as arena fodder." He chuckled. "Give us a good show before you die." / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it's not quite that literal of a promise. ———- I’m starting to see a pattern here uuuh anyway I love this fic, I love Pidge and Lance working together. WARNING: Violence, Character Death

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A Little Unsteady (Hold Onto Me) by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (13,385 words): Takashi Shirogane is nine years old when he holds his brother for the first time. “I’m here,” he’d whispered to his fussing baby brother, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”  And Keith stopped crying. He didn’t laugh; he looked up at Shiro with big, skeptical eyes. A challenge. Like this tiny person was saying ‘oh yeah, prove it’. And Shiro, newly nine years old, promised that he’d prove it.Shiro and Keith's childhood in moments. ———- There’s a lot of Keith’s background story here that I fell really strongly for (though not canon compliant, I just like it.). If you’ve ever had that kind of relationship where you are like an older sibling figure, you can really feel this in your bones. WARNING: Child Abuse

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Leave Them Stunned and Stuttering by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) (10,527 words): Five Times Shiro couldn't be knocked off balance, one time he was, and one time he trusted the team to see. Or, when sibling bonding goes wrong. ———- A little bit Everyone/Shiro. It’s fun to see the team all bond over trying to mess with Shiro.

———————————————— Fatalistic Daydream by Engineer104 (27,873 words):  Being a low-ranking Galra soldier stationed in a virtual backwater isn’t stopping Pidge from finding out what happened to her family. But the secrets she’s keeping from her friend Keith on top of the unwanted attention of an Altean prisoner-of-war are definitely...slowing her down. ———- Interesting AU where the Galra and Alteans are actively at war. Technically this is tagged as Pidge/Lance but there isn’t anything actually romantic so I feel it fits the gen category.

——————-——————-——-—--—--SHANCE———————————-——————-—-

Racing on the Thunder by Jennypen (5435 words): Freshman Shiro is pretty hung up on Senior Lance at the Garrison, but no-one else shares his opinion. At least, not until a hostage situation changes everything. ———-   I love this!! Baby Cadet Shiro (who are not so baby-looking) pining after the older Cadet Lance, and Lance is a BAMF.

————————————————- Closer to Your World by CastleSL (29,576 words): Students will be carefully selected and tested for the opportunity to fly out to Kerberos for scientific research. Only one student may be selected. Application and Testing will commence during the third trimester, June 21XX. There was more on the page, statistics and requirements and more details, but it was legit. The flyer was printed on standard Garrison announcement paper, the document signed by the Dean and board of directors. The chance to go to Kerberos. Hunk took a moment to think, then clapped his hand on Lance’s back, smiling. “Well, I’m rooting for ya, buddy.” He said, and Lance beamed like that was all he needed in the world. ———-   It’s been a while since I read this fic but it’s nice with a lil longer Shance fic - it’s also really well written. A sequel is also being written right now that is also good. WARNING: Mentioned character death

————————————————- 

Full Moons and the Mornings After by Impetus (6496 words): Shiro is an unlucky werewolf who can’t control himself during the full moon. Lance really needs to stop letting stray wolves into his apartment. ———-   This is like my favourite werewolf fic ever hahahaha. I love when werewolves are portrayed as big dumb dogs. It’s really cute and they’re both big pining messes.

————————————————-  Jaded by Impetus (8728 words): Shiro is the leader of Voltron. He is the strength and the calm in the face of the thundering storm of the Galra. Lance is someone Shiro doesn't quite understand. Shiro is someone Lance wants to understand with all of his heart. ———-   WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- The Luxury of Lacking Confidence by oldmythologies (13,695 words): They knew how it worked; Lance was always the damsel in distress and Shiro was the big strong hero who came to save him. When Shiro’s lion is hit by a vicious attack, he is knocked off course and careens into an ice planet. Lance finally elects himself the hero and has to save Shiro from his own injuries and the Galra ships searching the planet. Shiro, feverish and low on blood, is forced to confront his demons; Lance has to learn how to fight them off. ———-    WARNING: Major character injury

————————————————- Tris for Guys by quiddative  (2907 words): It was all Keith’s fault—him and his stupid biceps showing up at intramural basketball two nights ago without his trademark cropped jacket (which was almost as outdated as his mullet) and making everyone swoon. And what was worse, even Shiro, their hotter-than-hell yet sweeter-than-sugar RA and current object of Lance’s helpless affections, seemed impressed. He actually went up to Keith after his team had pummeled everyone else into the ground, clapped him on the back, and uttered the words that Lance had been daydreaming about for approximately fifteen thousand years: “Great job, buddy!” So, as soon as he got back to his room that night, he logged into his student account and signed up for the first available complimentary personal training session the college’s gym offered. ———- The story of how Lance thirsts so hard he even makes the ultimate sacrifice and goes to the gym. Lance’s “voice” here is great.

————————————————-  Slowly, Surely by needchocolatenow (2997 words): Shiro is tasked with an assignment to deliver important cargo to Altea. Lance is his second. -- Or, the fic in which Shiro and Lance take a road trip through space in an unfortunately named shuttle. ———- Just a really cute story where humans have moved into space and Shiro pines and is as awkward as a kid with his first crush.

————————————————-  ordinary people are everywhere by lein (5625 words): The note, situated in the bottom right corner, reads simply: ‘Will you be my Valentine? Yes or yes.’ Surrounded by little hearts and unaddressed, it seems a little out of place nestled next to the carefully crafted drawings of both pigeon lance and the deviantart stamp Pidge sent to Keith that made him cry for upwards of an hour before he had wordlessly crawled atop the table to recreate it as closely as he could. Shiro grins as he picks up a black dry erase marker and circles a yes. ———- This fic is so underrated! It’s super cute and I fell in love already at the summary, but the fic in itself is really well written and nice.

————————————————- Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster by Eilera (2035 words): “This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s gorgeous.” “Oh no. No. Lance do-“ Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door.

(In which Lance is helping his mama with an insurance claim and he was not prepared for the smoking hot insurance adjuster.)

———- Lance is Lance and this was funny and cute.

————————————————-  Left Side Or Right? by liddie (2698 words): When Lance accidentally locks himself out of his dorm room he finds himself on Shiro's doorstep hoping that this falls under Shiro's offer of  "Let me know if you need help with anything."

Luckily for him, it does. ———- Piiiining I love it...... I really do

————————————————-  Lactose IntolerLance by humblenoodle (1807 words): Shiro's aware, at least, that his current course of action is humiliatingly stupid, and he should really stop while he's still ahead.

But it’s not like he could just casually waltz up there and ask for Lance’s number, maybe even a date. That’s not how this worked. ———- 

This was really funny and cute, pining Shiro at his most awkward.

————————————————- Define Dancing by starbear (5495 words): “Dancing?” Shiro made a small, scoffing little laugh. “You’re kidding, right? “What? No,” Lance said, “Why?” “I can’t dance.” “Lies.” “No, I’m serious,” Shiro said, “Two left feet. I’m terrible.” “That I absolutely do not believe. I bet you’ve just never really tried.” Lance stood, abruptly, an unsettlingly determined look on his face. “C’mon, let’s do it.” “Do...what?” “Dance, duh,” Lance said. “Let’s go.”

Shiro learns how to dance, and falls in love along the way. ———-  I tend to like fics that are snippets through time, but this one stand out :)

————————————————- Ten Days by WashiPuppy (??? words): Most people never got to learn exactly what their mind is worth, how resistant it is. Lance knew now, and the answer was ten days. It only took ten days for something in him to break that he wasn't sure he could get back.

Shiro had survived a year and come out as someone still able to smile, to be kind and gentle with those around him. Scarred, but not shattered.

Lance wore no new scars. But he still hadn't made it ten days.

———- So you like slow burn? Well what about the characters doesn’t even interact for three thirds of the fic lmao. Honestly though this fic is really good and well written! The focus isn’t on romance at all and I even forgot about it a couple of times, but none the less it’s 100% worth the read.

————————————————-  Black to Blue by PuppetMaster55 (153,825 words): Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin.

Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin.

OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

———- I mean I assume most people have already read this fic but just in case someone missed it? Read it. This is the Lance as Black Paladin au you always wanted.

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Breaking Wind by AshesTheTerrible (10,044 words): Shiro is settling into his new body and finally trusting himself to rekindle things with Lance. Intimacy proves to be a lot of stumbling after such a long time without. And nobody is safe from awkward bodily functions during sex, not even Shiro. ———- Like the mature dumbass I am I love this fic about farting. It’s really well written and have such a good, soft relationship though it’s worth it ok.  WARNING: Explicit

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ticket to ride by mettaverse (2085 words): The officer raises his hand. “You were going thirty miles over the speed limit for a date?” Lance opens his mouth and the officer lowers his sunglasses just to glare at him. “Sixty in a thirty lane. You know how fast that is?” “Um. Fast? Pretty fast?” “Dangerously fast.” He pulls a pad of paper out of his pocket. “I'm gonna have to give you a ticket.” ———-  Short AU-fic that I just find really cute

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How to Dig Your Own Grave by flyingisland (8804 words): The complete anthology, written from first-hand experiences and mortifying, soul-crushing interactions between Lance McClain and one very attractive neighbor. ———- This fic is kinda wonderful. Lance mess up so bad over and over and it’s hilarious. It’s all fine though in the end ;)  WARNING: Explicit, Sex Work (Pornography)

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easier to lose by quiddative (???? words): Shiro is at the peak of his NHL career. Unfortunately, being famous has its downsides, particularly when it comes to dating. And that’s on top of the fact that he’s still in the closet.

However, a chance meeting with college student Lance, who seems to be the only person in the entire city who doesn’t know who he is, gives him hope that maybe he won’t die alone after all. Just as long as he can keep his identity a secret. ———- This fic isn’t actually finished when I add it here, but I expect it to be soon. I kinda love sport-AU’s not gonna lie. This one hit me right in the weak spot.

———————-——————-—-—--—--KLANCE————————-——————-————-

Five Minutes by WhatTheBodyGraspsNot (4176 words): When Keith is unwillingly tricked into a speed dating session by Shiro, he finds himself meeting several unusual characters. The most unusual of all, however, is the loud one in the letterman jacket. He's obnoxious and has no regard for the other people around him and he keeps making his way closer and closer to Keith within the ring rotations. Can Keith pull himself together to get through this meeting? Or will he find himself interested by the end of their five minutes? ———-   I like Keith being stubbornly set on being bitter and hating things he’s dragged into lol. Even when he kinda really doesn’t.

————————————————- gladly break my heart (for you) by godsensei (1747 words): “You want me to... touch you?” Lance asks, a mildly dubious look on his face. Keith feels his face go hot. “Yes! You touch everyone else. I just-- we’re boyfriends, right?” he asks, feeling stupid, but so hopeful. Lance searches his face for a moment, before his eyes soften, a sweet smile blooming on his lips. ———-   This is just fluff and touch starved Keith and I’m all for it. ————————————————- i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem (11,610 words): “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?” They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?” ———-   I drew a scene from this fic so I guess in a way I’ve already recc:d it, but I’m gonna do it again. I love awkward misunderstandings and Lance’s rambling in this fic is both kinda hilariously in character and well written. WARNING: Canon-typical violence ————————————————- Keith's Type by AmbitiousSkychild (24,050 words): “How would anyone notice what anyone else’s type is in the middle of all this?!” Matt demanded, laughing. “What’s Keith’s type?” Lance blurted out like an idiot. “It’s… obvious,” Pidge said. “He gets all flustered over shitty puns and most physical comedy. And have you seen the way he stares at Hunk when he’s going on about the mechanics of something? Like how the lions work? I’ve literally seen him blushing when Hunk goes into explanation mode.” “So, you think he has a crush on Hunk?” Lance squawked. “No. You bonehead,” Pidge laughed. “I’m saying any dad-joke-telling, klutzoid with good grades has probably got a pretty good shot at Keith.” Or: It figures that after years of getting it hilariously wrong face-to-face, Lance finally gets good at talking to Keith through a screen, which is, like, one of his biggest accomplishments. Then, Pidge makes the comment that Keith has a type, while heavily implying that it's Matt. But, listen, with everything going on with Voltron, the coalition, the Blade of Marmora, and Coran, Lance isn't going to get distracted worrying about it. Ask anyone, he's always been great with measuring levels of importance.... ———-   I kinda have a weakness for the emotional jealousy, the one that isn’t angry and hot but insecure and hits where it hurts. And yeah. Matt and Keith have (kind of?) a past together and Lance is alone-ish after Keith left the team. ————————————————- King and Reaper by PastelClark (35,512 words): Allura had told them once that Voltron was their destiny. If anything, Keith thinks, Lance had proven that while finding the lions might have been on the dime of some greater plan, compliance to their supposed fate was not strictly required in any remote sense of the word. In fact, by Lance's standard of doing things it was all rather bullshit. (Or: The story of the destruction of Earth and its aftermath, feat. questionable science in regards to weapons of mass destruction, gratuitous Star Wars references, theoretical chess games with the emperor of most of the known universe, explosions, the greatest bromance of all time, the worst romance of all time, far too many guns, concussions, extreme misuse of the French language, awkward flirting, and Lance in an overly-dramatic trench coat.) ———-   BAMF rebel leader Lance and mental images that kinda kick you in the inspiration, honestly. Everyone is older and different. Voltron kinda failed.

————————————————- Keith the Amnesiac by jilliancares (8878 words): In which an accident leaves Keith temporarily without his Voltron-filled memories and he may or may not spill a few of his better kept secrets to Lance. ———-   This story is great if nothing else because it feels so realistic in how it handled Keith’s amnesia. This is very much just what it’s like to have those small differences in how you perceive the world vs how you normally do.

————————————————-

Let's be (dis)honest by noero (1581 words): Lance is backed against his bathroom wall, one hand gripping his sink and the other nervously combing through his hair. Keith is in front of him — down on his knees — calling Lance’s bluff.  ———-   Nothing really to say about this other than I liked the competitiveness between Keith and Lance and it was fun. WARNING: EXPLICIT

——-—--—--——————-——————-OTHERS——————-——————-——————-

Sun In Our Eyes by MatchaMochi (9349 words): “Think you can beat me hotshot?” He doesn’t falter, just nods and holds up his sniper. His hands don’t shake, his lips don’t tremble, (his heart though, that wild erratic thing stuttering in his chest, makes the blood rush to his ears, makes him think: Oh god.) ///

In which Kinkade pines and Lance has too many feelings. ———- 

So this is THE Kinkance fic, but just in case someone didn’t read it yet - I’m gonna add it here. (RYAN/LANCE)

———————————————— i'm willing to wait for it, i'm willing to wait for you by ThePackWantstheD (10,338 words): Lance McClain is hard to hate. He’s easy to love. Or: James Griffin falls fast and hard for a charismatic cargo pilot, dates him for six months, and then waits for him for five years.

———-

This ship isn’t something I ever considered until this fic, but heck it got me on board. I like everyone’s reactions and James’ belief. (JAMES/LANCE)

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no need to say goodbye by smolsarcasticraspberry  (13,557 words): The juniberry tree blossoms every seven years, and when it does, a gateway opens up to another world - a world that Shiro first explores as a child. There, he meets Allura. They do not speak the same language, but children do not need words to play. Every seven years, when the gateway opens again, Shiro steps through to visit the girl he knows on the other side. But the gateway only stays open as long as the juniberry flowers bloom... 

———- This is one of those stories that are simply wonderful, even if you’ve never seen the original show because it build up such a cool new world in the relatively few words. It also deals with Shiro in the aftermath of war and pining. (SHALLURA)

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Drip Like Honey by avoidingavoidance (7171 words): In which Romelle recommends a hot Tumblr boy to Allura, but when she checks him and his stream out, she finds that he seems awfully familiar.

———- Obviously this is right up my alley. Da-mn. Allura is top as heck. WARNING: Explicit (SHALLURA)

———————————————— Frostbite by Rueitae (6109 words):  Pidge is a renowned super villain. Lance is a hero in training. During their latest encounter, Lance pushes his powers to their limit and Pidge has some soul searching to do.

———-  I doooo love superhero AU’s and this is both super sweet, funny, well written and paints a clear picture of the universe which we are thrown into. I like it a lot. (PLANCE)

[sugarcoated-pain]

Heavy Rotation Part 5

Thanks to everybody who’s been reading, especially those letting me know what you think! Keep an eye out for Part 6 soon because it is gonna be GOOD! ;)

As always, thanks @sublimehood for all the help, guidance, and general reassurance lol. 

Best Friends to Lovers- original character + Ashton

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Over the next few weeks, things started to go back to normal. Well, I mean, as “normal” as things could ever be for us. Ashton and I didn’t speak of the kiss again, and we all did what we could to help him get over his break up. I respectfully didn’t bring up the “friends with benefits” comment while he was grieving, though the thought definitely crossed my mind more than once.

Around the end of January, we got a regular visitor around the studio. Ray is a music producer and owner of a brand new recording studio in New York City, as well as an old friend of Luke’s parents. He’s visiting LA on business, and had never seen the studio, so he stopped by whenever he got a chance, just hanging out and picking up ideas for his own studio.  On his first day in town, Liz was giving him the grand tour and they caught me messing around in the recording studio. Whoops. Ray was amused by this, and also could immediately tell that I am an “East Coast Girl”. Didn’t realize it was THAT obvious.

It’s almost impossible for me to stay away from the studio now that I am getting the hang of how things work in there. When business is slow, Ashton and I have been working on editing my demo, but it’s taking longer than it should, since we’re actually supposed to be working. Ray walked in one day and overheard part of my track, and was intrigued. Ashton played it for him from the beginning, much to my embarrassment, but Ray said it was “really good” and that I have “a lot of potential”. Holy crap. This is amazing.

On his last day in town, Ray approaches me alone while I’m working in the store.

“I’ve been really impressed by you while I’ve been here. You’ve got the same energy that I’m looking to have in my studio. If you decide you’d like to move back closer to home, there’s a job waiting for you.”

I’m initially stunned. He hands me his business card. “Wow, thanks. That’s incredible and honestly really flattering, “ I start, once my brain is able to process what he is saying. “But I’ve already kinda built a life here, and I love what I’m doing.”

Ray glances down at the pile of records in my hand, and gives me an incredulous look, “Stacking records?”

I chuckle slightly. “Touche.”

“Just keep it in the back of your mind, okay? The company would pay to fly you there and there could be a nice signing bonus involved. Hit me up if you change your mind.”

I stand there stunned for a few moments after he’s left, staring at his business card in my hand.

“Hey, you okay?” It’s Georgia. She’s bringing Calum lunch, and has clearly noticed that I’m in shock.

“Uh.. yeah I think so... That Ray guy just offered me a job in New York.”

“WOAH…seriously??  are you..actually considering it?” She asks, looking impressed and also mildly concerned.

“Nah not really… I mean, my gut says no, I love my life here.. But it sounds like it could be good money, and it would be nice to be closer to home…” I reply with a shrug.

“Well, you know we’d all miss the hell out of you, but I’m excited for you and support whatever decision you make!”

I smile. “Thanks, G.”

I was on closing duty for the store that night, and everybody else had shit going on, so once my shift was finally over, I had the apartment to myself. I cooked myself some pasta without anybody getting in my way, and plopped down on the couch to watch a movie. Ashton was the first one home.

“Are you watching the Wedding Singer AGAIN?” He asks, shaking his head.

“I love this movie, leave me alone!”

He plops down on the couch next to me, and before I even know what is happening, he grabs my fork and steals a bite of my alfredo.

“Hey! Get your own!” I snap, slapping his hand playfully.

He smirks triumphantly, taking another bite.

“How was work?” He asks, settling back on the couch.

“Boring as hell. OH but that Ray guy came back and actually offered me a job in New York!”

“What?? For real??”

“Yeah but I'm probably not gonna take it.. it's just kinda flattering, ya know?”

“Why aren't you going to take it?”

“Well, I mean, I've already got a job that I usually enjoy..and I've built a life here.. and there's all of you guys…”

The look on his face is hard to read but I'd say he seems pleased with my answer. His cell phone buzzes and he checks it, then let's out a frustrated groan.

“What's up?” I ask curiously.

“Nothing… just… Camille keeps texting me lately..”

“WHAT?!? What does that skanky bitch want??”

“She says she wants to 'talk’. Keeps trying to get me to meet up with her. She is apparently sorry and made a 'mistake’.” He sighs.

“....you're not buying that bullshit, right??”

“I don't really wanna talk about it right now. Let's just watch your stupid movie.” He adds, the last part in a playful tone. Without responding to the text, he puts his phone back in his pocket.

We sit in silence for a little while just watching the movie together, even though I've seen it dozens of times. I’m hyper-aware of the fact that we seem to be inching closer together on the couch, until the point that our legs are touching. I can occasionally feel him watching me out of the corner of my eye. My cheeks start to feel flushed and the air feels like it’s made of electricity. The tension starts to become too much to bear. My heart is racing now and it’s taking everything in my power not to climb on top of him right here on the couch. Almost a month has passed since the breakup, and I decide in this moment that this is a reasonable amount of time to address the thing I can’t stop thinking about.  

“So.. remember on New Year’s Day when you made that comment about ‘best friends with benefits’?” Before I can finish my sentence, his lips are on mine. Pulling me closer to him, i wrap my arms around his back and run my fingers through his hair as I kiss him back.  “But that’s all this is, right? No strings attached?” I say quickly, pulling away, but with our lips just inches apart. He instantly breaks the space between us to continue kissing me.  It’s a deep, passionate kiss, the kind I pictured every time I imagined this happening, but I need to make sure we are on the same page, so I try again, “Because you’re still getting over Camille....”,

“And you don’t want a relationship…” he retorts, but his lips are back on mine as soon as he finishes the sentence.

“And we’re best friends who live together and anything more would be weird….and I wouldn’t want everybody else to know..” I say into his ear, as he moves his lips down to my neck.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” He pulls me up onto his lap, and I straddle my legs on either side of his.  I move one of my hands from his hair to his back, moving up under his shirt and running my fingernails all the way down. I can feel him getting harder beneath me, and it’s almost too much to take. He runs his hands up under the back of my shirt to undo my bra.

Suddenly, we hear keys in the front door and I jump off of him as fast as I can. We both frantically straighten our clothes and hair, panting. Luckily, Cal and Georgia are lost in conversation and not paying attention when they first walk in. I pull my loose bra through my shirt sleeve discreetly and stuff it under the throw blanket next to me. I notice Ashton is using the other end of the same blanket to hide his erection, which makes me smirk proudly.

“Hey guys, what’re you up to?” Cal asks as they enter the living room

“Just watching a movie .. but it’s almost over and I’m exhausted so I was thinking about going to bed soon.” I reply, with a pointed look at Ashton.

“Yeah, me too.” Ash adds, picking up on the cue. He better know that I expect him to crawl through my bedroom window the second I get in there and fuck me senseless.

“Aw. We actually had a movie we wanted to watch with you guys. The four of us haven’t gotten a chance to hang out in a while.” Georgia replies. Great. Guilt trip. Ashton and I exchange a look.

“I guess I can hang out a little while longer.” I answer. How long can the movie be, right?

I can wait two more hours for the guy I’ve already waited eight months for. But about halfway through, the rush from our little makeout session has worn off and I start to feel drowsy. Last thing I remember is laying my head on Ashton’s shoulder.

I wake up several hours later, wrapped in Ashton’s arms on the couch. Someone appears to have thrown the blanket over us, so that’s kind of awkward. I realize the sun is already up, and reach for my cell phone to check the time. I’m supposed to be downstairs for work in 30 minutes so I gently move Ash’s arms and begin to stand up. He’s still passed out but he instinctively tries to pull me back to him. It’s adorable and everything I’ve ever wanted but this shit can absolutely NOT happen. This was a terrible idea. I should NOT have allowed this to happen.

“Hey, Ash. Wake up. You’ve gotta go to work soon.”

“morning” he says groggily.

I stand up and fold the blanket, and try to give him a second to wake up.“....We need to talk about last night..” My tone a little bit more serious than I intended.

“Why am I getting a deja vu feeling?” he says, as he stretches and begins to sit up.

“I changed my mind. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing…”

“Can I assume you’re not going to give me a reason as to why?”

Because you’re the most perfect man I’ve ever met and I’m secretly falling for you, which makes you the world’s worst distraction for a girl on a mission. “I just don’t want to deal with everybody in the apartment finding out, but I also don’t want to have to sneak around. I think we’re really better off as JUST friends…”

“Well I’m gonna call bullshit because I know you don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks, but fine. If that’s what you really want, then I respect that... Just friends.”

“Thank you. It is.” UGH it’s very much NOT what I really want. Why can’t I just be real with him and myself right now?

I take a super quick shower before work, and all I can think about is how badly I want Ashton in there with me. This is a problem. This HAS to stop. I’m here for my music, and I can’t let some guy hold me back, no matter how perfect he is. It occured to me in this moment that Ashton was the reason why I immediately told Ray no when he offered me the job. This is everything I wanted to avoid. What if this NYC opportunity really was my fast track into the music industry? The fact that I didn’t even consider it for a second all because of Ashton TERRIFIES me.

As soon as I step out of the shower, I reach for the jeans I had fallen asleep in, and pull Ray’s business card out of my pocket. Before I even get dressed, I send him an email asking for more details about the position. As I head downstairs for work, I hear a notification on my phone. It’s Ray, getting back to me much quicker than I anticipated, and the offer almost feels too good to be true. The money is great, I’d get to be helping make music instead of stacking cds and records all day, and I would receive a signing bonus. He even mentioned that there was a flight at the end of the week on the company’s preferred airline that still had seats available on such short notice, so he had used their miles to secure a ticket for me, just in case. That seemed a little presumptuous, but also nice to know that this guy wanted me to work for them that badly.

It was a lot to think about, and I spend most of my shift daydreaming about what it would be like to be back on the east coast, and REALLY working in the music industry. Being closer to my family and old friends would be nice. The reasons to go seemed to be adding up quicker than the reasons to stay. But I realized that my main reason to stay was more important to me than all of the reasons I should go.

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

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