#honestly idk!!! i was cold and remembered this prompt and it's really late and did i say i was cold bc i am

[skamz]

something soft and wintery with evak cuddling in their apartment with hot chocolate all bundled up in blankets bc it's cold (i know it's not winter yet but shhh)

hello you! 💝  it’s not winter yet officially but it’s still cold aaah! i hope this is ok :)

--

isak has been going over his chemistry notes for almost an hour when he hears the sound of their front door opening. he purses his lips together, tries not to smile too wide. but then even is looking up toward him as he clumsily takes his boots off, steadying himself with a hand on the wall, and their eyes meet, and there’s just no way of holding back the grin that spreads across isak’s face. 

“honey i’m hooome,” even says, almost chants. 

isak huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes a little. “c’mere,” he says, propping himself up on one forearm.  

even hangs his coat and then he’s skipping toward their bed, and isak barely has the time to put his notes down before even is basically lying on top of him. 

“hello there,” even peppers kisses on isak’s forehead, his cheekbone, his nose, below his ear and isak writhes slightly under him, turning his head to the side in an attempt to capture his lips. 

“hello,” he replies, placing a hand on even’s cheek, steadying him. “you’re cold.” 

when their lips meet, at last, isak sighs and closes his eyes. 

“it’s cold outside,” even says against his mouth, and then he’s softly rubbing his nose against isak’s, and isak can feel the contrast between the temperature of their skin. “you’re warm.”  

“baby,” isak whispers, kissing him one more time, slow and gentle, before wrapping an arm around his back, bringing him closer to him. 

isak pats the mattress, in search for their warmest comforter, and when he finds it, he pulls it over their bodies, and when even fits his face into the crook of isak’s neck, isak wraps a second arm around him, holds him close. 

even sighs contentedly, and he feels smaller like this against him, trying to soak up as much body heat as possible. “i love you.” 

and perhaps isak shouldn’t be melting as he holds this tall boy who just got home on this winter day, whose cold cheek is now pressed against his collarbone, but he is, he is. 

he presses a kiss to even’s forehead. “love you too.” 

a few minutes pass and they’re now breathing in tandem, their bodies fitting together like they always do, their temperature almost identical. 

“how was school?” 

“’was good, the usual. the boys miss you.”

isak feels even chuckle. “but i saw them on monday.” 

“you’re very easy to miss, you know,” isak is almost teasing, but he means it.  even is easy to miss, which is why he’s thankful he gets to see him at the end of every day, gets to wake up by his side every single morning. 

isak can’t picture a life where he doesn’t get to have that, really doesn’t want to. 

and it’s one of the few perks of spending parts of their days apart - how wonderful it always feels to be reunited in the end, how right. 

isak holds him just a little tighter. 

“how was work?” he asks. 

“wasn’t busy at all in the morning when it started,” even pauses and yawns. “snowing a lot, and i came up with this...hot chocolate recipe that’s...really great, i have to make it for you later when...”

he doesn’t finish his sentence, and isak can feel the way even’s chest expands slightly against his own, can feel his heart close to his own, and the pulse on his neck where the tips of his fingers are now resting. he takes a quick look at even’s face and smiles when he notices that his eyes are closed.  

isak buries his fingers in even’s hair, breathes him in and eventually he’s also closing his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of even’s steady breathing. 

*

when isak opens his eyes, even is running a hand up and down his chest, under his shirt. he gently scratches his stomach, and isak squirms, letting out a small whine - he’s ticklish, especially when he wakes up, and even loves to take advantage of that. 

“what time is it?” 

“just 19:15″ 

even’s hand goes up and up and he starts tracing lines on isak’s collarbones, and isak sighs, turns his head only to find even looking at him.  

“you hungry?” 

before isak has the chance to reply, his stomach rumbles audibly, and they both laugh a little. 

isak is grating cheese as even spreads tomato sauce on the pizza dough he just rolled out, and when even is done, he comes behind him, pecks him on the cheek. 

isak sits on the countertop as their pizza cooks in the oven, even standing between his thighs, his hands on them as they make-out lazily. when isak deepens the kiss, licking and biting like he can’t get enough, even lets him, only pulls back once to whisper “you’re hungry”, a pleased smile lifting the corner of his mouth. 

and isak chuckles and nods, wrapping his arms around even’s neck, squeezing even’s hips with his legs. “very” 

when they eat diner, even tells isak about the idea for a short film he came up with at work, and isak listen attentively as even tells the story with words and facial expressions and hand gestures. even fetches his notebook from the large pocket of his coat at one point, adds a few notes to the ones he already took as they discuss ideas together. 

isak loves doing this - loves to listen to even talk, loves even’s mind and the way even thinks and creates, loves the way he is. 

isak loves even. 

(he tells him that he does with a kiss on the top of his head, after he stands to pick up their plates and bring them to the sink.) 

even heats up some milk in a saucepan, melts some chocolate into it as isak quickly washes the dishes, and it smells divine in their kitchen. and then isak is done before he is, and he comes to nuzzle the back of even’s neck, and the small exposed part of his shoulder. 

isak is waiting on their bed when even arrives with a mug in each of his hand, and isak smiles at the high mount of whipped cream in the one on the left, knows that that one is his. 

they’re then sitting with their backs against the wall, legs tangled up together under their covers. 

“is it me or is this a little spicy?” 

“i added the tiniest dash of cayenne pepper,” even says. “you like it?” 

“super yummy” isak nods. 

they sip on their hot chocolate as they continue watching master of none on their television, and even wraps an arm around isak’s shoulders.

isak is well aware that it’s cold outside, but right here in this room, there is nothing but comfortable warmth - in the hot chocolate he’s drinking, in the bed he’s sharing, in the blankets covering him, in the boy holding him.  

he looks away from the screen at one point, stares at even’s face for a moment, and then even is looking back at him, and there’s warmth in those eyes of his, in that smile of his. 

isak is well aware that it’s cold outside, but the thing is that he doesn’t really mind the weather. because he also knows that when they are together, even during the coldest days that winter has to offer, there will always be warmth. 

[ray-ray-writings]

HELLO RAY! I have a sorta cute image prompt for you to possibly do? Idk it's cute to me so ima just day it, it's a Sam x Reader. Now they aren't together in it but actually get together in it, so basically we all know Sam has adopted Tommy at this point, but what if the Reader did the same thing *gasp*! Sort like a mother figure? But anyway, it's clear that Sam and the reader like each other but are awkward about it because reasons, so Tommy does as Tommy does and becomes WingmanInnit and attempts to get the two together, with out actually saying to either of them that's what he's doing. Thank you for doing this if you do💙💙💙 have a good day or night, make sure to eat/drink/take your meds, and have a good nap you deserve it!

HELLO FRIEND! I’m so sorry this took so long to write but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! This is a fem! reader because reader is referred to as “a mother figure” but you can honestly just pretend it’s “parental figure” and make it gender neutral! 

Honey Barbecue-Awesamedude

You first met Tommy while you were walking the Prime Path back to your home from a trip to gather a specific type of wood. You quite literally crashed into the boy because he was so beaten up and disoriented that he didn’t even notice you and ran right into you. Your hands immediately reach up and grab onto the younger boy’s upper arms to stabilize him. “Tommy?” His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s pretty out of it. “Okay kiddo, let’s get you to my house huh?” 

With a little bit of struggle, you manage to get Tommy into your home and into your bed. Once his head hits your pillows, he’s out cold. You carefully clean him up and patch up his wounds before setting a glass of water by his bed and leaving him in the room. 

Tommy doesn’t come out of the room until around sundown. He’s yawning, but he looks so confused but when his eyes meet yours, everything seems to come back to him. He gets this really sheepish look on his face and he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey… Sorry about earlier. Thanks for taking care of me.” 

You give him a bright smile and nod, “Of course, Tommy. There’s no need to be sorry. It’s something anyone would do. Now come sit down. Dinner is almost ready.” Tommy hesitates for only a moment before seeming to get a whiff of whatever it is you’re cooking and making his way to the table and seating himself. 

You force Tommy to stay the night at your house. It was getting really late and you didn’t want to run the risk of him getting into more trouble and hurting himself even further. He left once daybreak came, but that wouldn’t the last time he’d be spending the night at your house. 

After that day, you kind of became like a mother figure to Mr. Tommy. You were always there for him and he always had a place in your home. You were one of the only people that was always on Tommy’s side no matter what and was able to remember that he was a liter child that needed to be taken care of. There was only one other person in the entire SMP that looked after Tommy like you did… And Tommy believed that you two would make a perfect couple. 

You and Sam were the only ones that looked out for Tommy for no other reason than to look after him. You two had kind of become the young boy’s unofficial parents. Yes, Tommy had his own house, but most nights he could be found in either your’s or Sam’s house. 

You and Sam knew each other, of course you knew each other. You two interacted sometimes but most of your conversations were about Tommy. Even with your limited conversations, you both quickly caught feelings for each other. The mutual care over Tommy was something you bonded over as well as, Tommy definitely doesn’t stop talking about you. You both had fallen for each other through your shared love of the boy that you considered your son, but also his words that he spoke about the two of you. 

It would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. 

However, it almost would be more impossible to tell him that you were in love with him. 

And the same goes for him. Sam had feelings for you, but there was no way in hell he would ever tell you that. 

This doesn’t make your feelings for each other any less obvious to one Mr. Tommyinnit. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy isn’t stupid. He’s very smart and very observant and he could tell almost instantly that the two of you clicked and that you two had developed feelings for each other. But it was also very obvious that you two knew of your feelings, but refused to acknowledge them.

He was going to fix that. 

Sam had informed Tommy that he had made a nice steak dinner for supper that night and that he really would love it to have company over to share it with. Tommy saw this as the perfect opportunity to push you two together. Tommy told you that Sam had invited you two over for dinner that night and you believed him. So you dressed up in a cute outfit and at 10 minutes till, you and Tommy headed over to Sam’s place. 

Sam was very surprised to find you standing at his door with Tommy, but it was a very pleasant surprise and one that he welcomed. Sam moved out of the way of the doorway and allowed you inside. You turned back around to face him and Tommy and found an odd sight. Tommy was still standing outside, staring down at his communicator. “Everything alright Tommy?” You ask, a little concerned as to who he was messaging. 

Tommy’s head snaps up and meets your eyes, a small smirk forms on his face as he speaks. “Oh yeah. I’m fine… Tubbo not so much. I have to go help him. I don’t know how long it will take. Go ahead and eat without me.” 

Not realizing what he was doing, you jumped in, “Oh! Is he okay? Do we need to come help?” 

“No, no, no, no. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. You two being there will probably just embarrass him. Seriously, enjoy your time together,” Tommy tells the two of you before turning and running away. 

Sam knows what the child had just pulled, you not so much. Sam could only glare after the boy but once he turns around his eyes find your frame, they soften. “Should we follow him? I know he said it’s fine but I don’t want--” 

“Y/N. It’s Tommy and Tubbo. They’ll be fine. If not, they have their communicators. But if you want to leave, I would completely under--” “No! No. I want to be here… with you.” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Sam cleared his throat and held out his hand to you. “Well in that case, may I?” You carefully reach your hand out and let him grab it. He gingerly leads you through his house and to his kitchen table where he carefully guides you to sit down in a chair before pushing you in. He walks over to the counter and picks up two plates that he prepared right before the knock on the door and sits one down in front of you before sitting himself down with the other one. 

“I hope everything tastes okay. I’m not the best chef but I wanted to do something nice for once,” Sam tells you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your face. Even though he’s not looking at you, you offer him a sweet smile and a laugh. 

“I’m sure it will taste great Sam,” you assure the creeper hybrid as you pick up your fork and knife. Sam copies your motions and gives you a big smile and together you begin to dig into the meal. 

The food tastes great. Sam really undersold himself, and you were sure to let him know. You complimented his cooking over and over as you two dined and chatted. It was really cute to watch his freckles light up as a form of blush to coat his cheeks under your heavy praise. A lot of the time all he could manage to get out in response was a small “thank you.” 

The conversation flowed naturally between you two as you discovered you had a lot more in common than just caring for Tommy. You two talked about what you did for work and what you did for fun. Some of the conversation revolved around Tommy, but not a whole lot. You mostly used your experience with Tommy as a way to jump from on topic to another. 

You two continue to talk even after you’re done eating. You help Sam clean up, despite his protests, and you two take a seat on his couch and talk for a while more. You two snap out of your conversation when one of the redstone clocks he’d made chimes loudly letting the two of you know that it was now 10pm (2200). You’re both shocked about how late it had gotten, and although you wanted to keep talking, you knew you should probably get home. 

Sam, ever the gentleman, offers to walk you home, and you still wanting to be able to spend a little more time with him, you accept. Together, the two of you walk back to your house. Sam has his sword just in case but no mobs bother you. You two get to your front door sooner than you would have liked. The two of you stop and turn toward each other in front of your door. 

“Well… This is me,” you state after a few moments of silence. 

“This is you… I had a really nice time tonight Y/N… Would we be able to do this again sometime?” 

A wide smile spreads across your face as you nod a little frantically, “Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

There are a few more moments of silence before Sam takes a deep breath and then blurts out, “Can I kiss you?” 

You’re surprised at the question, but you find yourself giving him a small nod. Sam seems a little shocked at your answer, but his hand comes up and cups the side of your face and he ever so slowly leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You immediately melt into him, your hands finding their way onto his chest and slowly dragging up onto his shoulders and you pull him a little bit closer to you. His other hand finds itself on your waist, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. 

The kiss ends too soon for your taste, but you also know that if it didn’t end when it did, you’re not sure it would have ever ended. Sam gives you a soft smile after pulling away. He carefully removes his hands from your body, you doing the same. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” 

“Goodnight Sam.” 

You stand there, back pressed against your front door, watching after him until he was no longer in your eyesight. You let out a small dreamy sigh before turning around and letting yourself into your own house. 

You are immediately startled by the presence of a teenage boy sitting in your kitchen, gorging himself on what looks like some chicken wings. “What the heck are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Tubbo okay?” You ramble out as you rush further into the kitchen, placing yourself between beside him, your eyes scanning over his body, making sure that he’s okay. 

Tommy just rolls his eyes and laughs, “Tubbo’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just needed a place to eat my wings. Wings for a wingman. I’d say I’m a pretty successful wingman?”

It was then that it hit you. Tubbo never really needed help with anything. Tommy didn’t leave you two alone to help Tubbo. He had set you up. Tommy had forced you and Sam to be alone together because he knew that this would happen. That the two of you would fall deeper and in turn would admit that you had feelings for one another…. This sneaky, meddling kid. 

You wanted to be mad. You really did. But you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at the boy for giving you the opportunity to go out on a date with the man you had been crushing on for many weeks now. So instead of taking the time to scold him, you instead opted to playfully push Tommy’s head before snatching a wing from his plate. 

Tommy opened his mouth to complain but fell silent at the sight of your playful glare. “Now, I will be taking this honey barbeque wing and will be heading off to bed. Clean up after yourself and get to sleep soon. Goodnight kiddo.” Tommy gives you a small smile and a nod before wishing you goodnight as well. You turn on your heel and walk out of the room toward your bedroom. But right before you were about to exit, you stop and turn back around. 

“Hey Tommy?” You call, drawing his attention to you. You give him a soft smile before raising the wing you had taken from his plate. “Thank you for being our wingman.” And with that you turn on your heel once more and continue on your way to your room. Even though he’s a sneaky, meddling kid, you couldn’t help but be very thankful for the boy that had brought you and Sam close together… You’ll have to make sure he’s the best man at the wedding. 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

they both know

prompt: “hey, wait, you’re still bleeding!” from this post by @whumpster-dumpster !! (i am in love w this prompt btw, it is just. so good.)

this one is a little bit different...i’ve done one other fic like this before (funnily enough for last year’s wij) but basically there aren’t really characters. you can imagine the people as whatever characters you like, or imagine them as like, random people idk (that’s what i did lol). anyway this was really fun to do, i liked doing sth a bit different! i hope you like it!

“Hey, wait, you’re still bleeding!”

“Huh?” He turns around in the doorway, and for a second the light from the hallway illuminates him in a way that might be almost beautiful were it not for the rapidly-growing bloodstain on his shirt and the freshly cleaned (but still very much present) cuts on his face. 

“Look down. You’re bleeding.”

He looks down, then slowly looks back up, surprise evident on his face.

“What happened?” 

“I…I don’t know.”

She guides him back to the barstool that he’d so recently vacated. He sits down heavily, resting his chin on his hands, elbows propped against the cool granite of the counter. 

“You really don’t know how you ended up bleeding through your shirt?”

He shakes his head. “Honestly, I didn’t even register it until you told me I was still bleeding. I thought I’d gotten away with a couple scrapes and bruises.”

She carefully pulls his shirt up and away from the spot of blood, and he does his best to pull his arms through the sleeves. His injury protests, but he ignores it. The shirt comes all the way off, and he sucks in a breath, and so does she. 

There’s a small piece of metal embedded in his stomach, where the skin is scraped and dirty. 

“Do you remember your shirt being off at any point during the fight?”

He thinks hard, then shakes his head. 

A second later, he remembers. “Wait. I fell, at one point. I remember my shirt getting pushed up, my hands getting scraped. It hurt, but I was a little too busy trying to avoid getting the shit kicked out of me to pay much attention.” He laughs slightly. “Lot of good that did me. Got the shit kicked out of me and ended up with…whatever the hell it is that’s stabbing me.”

“It just looks like scrap metal,” she says. “It seems reasonable that it could’ve been on the ground when you fell.”

He nods. 

“I assume you don’t want to go to the hospital for this, either?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. I trust your medical skills.”

She sighs. “I appreciate the compliment,” she says drily. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Last year. I had an…altercation with a piece of rebar.”

“Of course you did. This probably isn’t gonna be pleasant, you know.”

“I know. I’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t argue - they both know he’s telling the truth. He’s had far worse. She’s patched up far worse. 

It’s a fairly simple process. It starts out the same way that their evening together had started - with cleaning the wounds. She snaps on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, then runs a cold antiseptic wipe across the raw, red skin of his stomach, cleaning out the small scrapes and the area around the piece of metal. He barely even flinches, used to the feeling by this point. 

The next step is to remove the metal. 

“This doesn’t look like it’s in there very deep, but it’ll probably start bleeding more heavily when I take it out. I’m gonna give you a paper towel, and as soon as I get the metal out, I need you to press the towel into the cut as hard as you can, okay?”

She grabs a few sheets of paper towel and passes them over. He grabs them, crumpling them into a ball and holding them at the ready. 

“One, two, three,” she says, half under her breath, and then grabs hold of the piece of metal and pulls, quick and smooth. 

He yelps, slightly undignified. He recovers quickly enough, pressing the paper towels against his skin as, sure enough, blood starts pouring more rapidly out of the wound. 

He holds the towels there until they’re almost soaked through. 

“Let me see now,” she instructs, and he carefully pries the soggy towels away from his body. She peers at the wound, looks carefully at the piece of metal, shiny with blood. It’s two inches long, at most, and the wound itself is no more than an inch deep. Not too bad, she figures. 

“I can work with this.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, though they both know already. 

“I’ll stitch it up. Won’t take long. Won’t feel very good, either.”

“It’s fine.”

Wordlessly, she reaches into a cabinet beneath the counter and pulls out a bottle of vodka. She passes it to him, and he sets the bloody paper towels down on the counter to grab it. 

“God, that’s awful,” he coughs, setting the bottle onto the counter with a thud. 

“It’s better than getting stitched up completely sober,” she argues. He grimaces at her, then takes another sip. 

“You ready?”

“Sure.” He looks down at her hands, watching as she dabs the bloody wound with a damp paper towel to clean it out. 

A second later, the paper towel she is holding has been replaced with a threaded needle, and they both take a deep breath before she begins. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on her hands. 

“You sure you wanna watch?”

He doesn’t reply. He kind of feels like he can’t look away, even if he wanted to. He watches the needle, watches the movement of her hands, even and precise and steady. 

The needle pierces his skin. He watches as it pokes in and then out, leaving a trail of thread behind. It doesn’t actually hurt that much, at any rate not as much as he’d expected, but the act of watching his skin get sewn back together makes him feel sort of dizzy. Still, he can’t tear his eyes away. He watches as the needle and thread makes its way up the fairly short length of the wound, and is thankful that it’s not larger. He thinks he might pass out if this goes on for much longer, but luckily it seems like she’s almost done. 

She ties off the thread, cuts the rest away, sets the needle aside. He’s left with nothing but the stitches in his skin. He lets out a harsh, shaky exhale, blinks hard to try and curb the dizziness, and then slumps forward. 

She catches him, putting two firm hands on his shoulders and pushing him upright. “You good?”

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a few seconds. When he opens them back up, the dizziness has faded a bit, and her concerned face is sharply in focus. 

“I’m good,” he says. 

“Sure,” she agrees, carefully pressing a gauze bandage over the fresh stitches. “You’re good. You gonna walk home like this?”

He raises a shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. He’s capable of it, he knows. But it’s dark and it’s late and he did just get beaten up in a back alley, then stitched up in his friend’s kitchen, so - 

“Yeah, no, that wasn’t really a question. You’re not walking home like this.”

He entertains the idea of telling her that she can’t tell him what to do, except that they both know full well that she can, and she will. 

“You’re staying. I need to keep an eye on my patient, anyway.”

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Alright, Mr. Observant. And tell me again, which one of us was it that realized you were seriously bleeding?”

They share a smile they’ve shared a hundred times before, and he knows he’s beat (though, if he’s being honest, he’d known that since he first turned up here). 

“Okay, I give up. I release myself into your hospitality.”

She grins, wide and bright - victory. “I’ll grab some blankets. You up for a movie?”

He always is.

thanks for reading this even though it’s not for any fandom lol. i had so much fun writing it and i hope you liked it!!!!

[nbrook29]

So a few weeks ago, @foxsake5 sent me one of those dialogue prompts, and at the time I wasn’t taking them anymore but since she’s the sweetest I just couldn’t say no 😌💖

I’m sorry for the wait, I hope this isn’t awful :)

Therefore, ladies and gentlemen:

159. [text] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

***

The hopes he had late last night of waking up with all his symptoms miraculously gone vanish seconds after he wakes up and gets aware of his surroundings. 

His head still feels like it’s full of cotton, eyes sting and itch at the same time, and his nose being all stuffy is the proverbial cherry on top of his misery. Before he can fully grasp this truly pathetic situation he’s in, he feels the beginnings of a sneezing fit brewing in his nostrils and sure enough, a moment later all hell breaks loose.

When he finally finishes, his chest aches with the effort and he drops his head back onto the pillow, whining at the unfairness of it all. 

Every year, it’s the same story. Spring comes, trees and flowers release tiny grains to fertilize other plants and Robbe is doomed. He’s so fucking doomed. April barely arrives and he turns into a sneezing, itching, coughing, swollen mess. It’s not pretty. Far from it actually. 

He curses himself for being stupid and believing he was cured after last year’s very mild case. Thinking about it now, it was probably due to being forced to stay in the house for the entire month more than anything. All his hopes of battling this fucking thing forever are now officially gone. His disappointment is immeasurable, his day is ruined.

And, Sander’s not here.

Why is he not here.

Why isn’t he lovingly stroking his brow to ease his sinuses pressure like he did last night.

He’s gonna have to have a serious conversation with his boyfriend because this is just unacceptable behavior.

Tugging the duvet tighter around himself to prevent the chilliness of the room from touching on his toasty warm body, he reaches for his phone. When Sander’s beautiful face welcomes him from his screen background, he yearns for his comforting presence even more. Yes, he’s being a tad dramatic, but sick Robbe has always been a drama queen, needing care and attention. Mama Ijzermans always laughs at him, saying he turns into a five year old when down with a runny nose. There may be a bit of truth to that statement, Robbe is a man enough to admit that. He just really hates having to blow his nose every ten seconds and all that, okay? Sue him.

Just as he’s about to start typing, his eye catches something flickering in the sunlight on Sander’s pillow. Frowning, he shifts closer to inspect it and discovers sprinkles of glitter covering the bottom half, and it’s honestly barely detectable, but for Robbe’s skilled eye it’s no hardship. 

Weird. Unless he somehow missed the fact that Sander turns into a sparkly unicorn every night at midnight in the last year and a half, there’s no reasonable explanation for glitter being in his bed.

He decides to leave it be for the time being and goes back to the job at hand.

R: Where are u and why aren’t u here 

S: Hello to you too, love of my life, light of my day 

R: ☹️

S: I had to run home cause I forgot I promised my mum I'll be there when the couch delivery comes

R: That's a very elaborate excuse for you abandonning me

I won’t hold it against you if you decided to leave me after being faced with my gross snotty self :(

S: You’re not gross

R: I don’t believe you

S: Okay you’re a tiny bit gross rn but I'm not afraid of your snot 💪🏻

I'll be back in 40 minutes x

R: I'll try to survive til then 🥺

I miss you 🥺

I need your cuddles 🥺

I miss your fingers in my hair, my head hurts less then 🤧

S: You're so sweet when you're all sniffly 😂

R: That's cause I need you to get your butt here faster

S: I'll try my best

R: Okay :(

Hey sander?

S: Yeah?

R: My bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall

S: 😶

R: Why is there glitter in my bed

S: Idk

R: I hate glitter

S: Maybe it's the allergies making you see things

R: 😠 what did u do why is there glitter in my bed????

S: Gotta go the delivery guy is here love youuu 

R: SANDER!!!

***

When he wakes up next time his head is still stuffed, but the feeling of warmth coming off Sander’s body and his hand playing with his hair makes it that much bearable. Scooching closer, he wraps his arm around his waist and buries his face into his black t-shirt, hoping the graphical form of Freddie Mercury in the front of it won’t mind much if he messes it with his runny nose by accident.

“I bought croissants on my way over, and there’s hot lemon tea waiting for you in the kitchen. Do you feel like getting up?” Sander asks in a gentle tone, hand stilling where it felt so good on Robbe’s scalp.

And no, he doesn’t really feel like it. So he decides to use the power of his eyes on Sander and rests his chin on his chest, giving him a pleading look that he knows his boyfriend is far from being immune to. 

“Bring it here?”

Sander regards him for a second like he’s searching for a strength inside him to say no to him, but very quickly he gives up, head shaking at himself as his fingers resume the ministrations in Robbe’s hair.

He lets out a deep sigh. “I’m such a pushover, aren’t I?” And Robbe knows he won because there’s a smile tugging at Sander’s lips and a moment later, he disentangles himself from Robbe’s grabby arms, heading to the kitchen for their breakfast.

They eat in bed, sitting side by side, shoulders brushing as they keep reaching for the goodies on the tray balanced on Sander’s thighs. Robbe has his feet tucked under his calves, his extra clinginess during sick time coming out in all force, but Sander doesn’t comment on it, just smiles and kisses his temple, looking like he doesn’t mind to be his personal teddy bear for the time being. He lets Robbe lie half on top of him when they watch silly youtube videos and draws mindless patterns on his back as his arm is probably asleep from being stuck in the same position. His fingers make goosebumps rise all over Robbe’s body and he must be thinking the shiver is the result of cold because he then meticulously tucks the comforter around him, making sure Robbe is burrito-like and safe from cold.

It’s the first time Robbe has been somewhat under the weather since they got together and he melts at every caress and gentle touch that Sander provides without even thinking about it and just in general being this five star on booking.com thoughtful boyfriend.

So yeah, Sander is passing this when-in-sickness exam with flying colors, Robbe thinks, as he leaves a few kisses on what looks like Freddie Mercury’s hair, reveling in Sander’s content sigh.

It’s an all around peaceful afternoon, except when the peace is occasionally broken with sneezing, blowing (only nose, damn it) and groaning in displeasure. Sander is taking it all like a champ, teasing him only a little and handing tissue after tissue, his face twisting at the grossness of Robbe’s state only a few times. Mostly, he just squeezes him tighter, scratches his back in that way he likes, kisses the pout out of his face despite the gross factor and makes him a fresh tea. 

He even cooks him a soup when Robbe naps out of things he finds in Robbe’s mom fridge, leaving Robbe himself gaping at him in astonishment, more so when the soup actually turns out good, because he had no idea Sander could cook something more than croques. 

The confession earns him a light jab in the ribs, light because Sander is still considerate of his state, but jab indeed because he will not stand for Robbe disbelief in his cooking skills, hell no. Robbe then keeps moaning in pleasure at the taste of every single spoon of the tomato soup to show his gratitude (and because it’s really good) and Sander rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a pleased smile on his face that lets Robbe know his ruffled feathers have been smoothed.

When they get back to just simply lounging around in bed with Robbe breathing (wheezing) loudly as he plays with Sander’s fingers, he remembers something.

Propping his head with his hand, he narrows his eyes at Sander. “So what about that glitter?”

The guilty look that immediately blooms on Sander’s face leaves him with no doubt that it was his fault. He thumps his chest in frustration.

“I’m sorry! I just, I was kinda bored after you fell asleep so fast last night, and, um, I bought some new paints yesterday,” he explains, wincing at Robbe’s growing frown. He scratches his head before he continues as if to delay the fallout. “And I wanted to try them out a bit and some of them might have contained, um, glitter in them?” he ends in a squeaky voice, waiting for Robbe to blow up, because he’s well aware of his burning hate for glitter. 

It’s like herpes. Once it’s on you, it never goes away.

“I can change the sheets later?” Sander adds wide-eyed, buttering him up as he leans in to kiss him once, twice, three times, until the scoff on Robbe’s lips melts completely. 

He could get mad, but Sander has been so sweet today and he’s looking so apologetic now, like he’s actually afraid Robbe may throw him out the door for this unfortunate incident of bringing that abomination into his house. The idea is so ridiculous it makes him giggle, and at first, Sander’s confused, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Robbe doesn’t stop, he scoffs at him and pouts.

“Ugh, you made me believe you’re gonna yell at me and put a ban on sex for a month or something, jerk.” 

He folds his arms all petulant as Robbe keeps rolling in bed, laughing, but then the sneezing fit abruptly stops Robbe’s fun and he sits up straight, letting out one sneeze after another, losing count after the eighth one. He thinks he got to twenty in the end, his new record, and when it’s finally over he feels so miserable and achy he doesn’t feel like laughing anymore. His eyes are so watery it feels like they’re gonna spill out any second now, nose rubbed so red it’s painful to even breathe and cheeks burning hot from the congestion.

Sander keeps handing him tissues, holding the waste bin in his other hand, and Robbe must look really awful because all signs of sulking are gone from his now sympathetic face as he gathers him into his arms, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as Robbe hides his face in the crook of his neck to keep his frustration tears at bay.

Sander is graceful enough to not say anything when a few escape anyway.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, huh?” he suggests after a while, hand stroking Robbe’s arm. “Maybe he will give you something?”

Robbe shakes his head, his voice raspy when he replies. “It’s no use, the doctor is gonna give me stuff that’s gonna make me drowsy. I just need to get over those first few days, it always gets better afterwards.”

He gets a lingering peck to his forehead. “Okay.” 

“Thanks for being so amazing.” Robbe looks at him with sincerity from under his droopy lids, thumb sweeping under his eye in caressing motion. Sander just smiles, shaking his head a little as if Robbe’s gratitude is silly.

“You’re always there for me when the situation is reversed, right?”

And they both know he’s not talking about allergies, of course he’s not. No more words are necessary as Robbe considers him for a few seconds, love shining in his bloodshot eyes before he shifts closer to place a kiss on his chin and then snuggles to him as close as humanly possible, his heart full when Sander does the same.

Robbe’s eyes sting too much for them to keep watching anything on their phones, but they’re also too lazy to get up and actually do something and they’re not yet hungry enough to think about preparing dinner. So to kill time, Sander quizzes him about Bowie and his lyrics, the year and a half of them being a couple pretty much skyrocketing Robbe’s knowledge about this man, so he knows the answers to 3/4 of the questions, Sander's eyes gleaming with pride as he pretends to wipe the imaginary tear making Robbe giggle and forget about his state for a while.

Eventually, Sander’s calming and sweet like honey voice lulls him to sleep, and the last thing he registers as he’s losing the fight to keep his eyes open is Sander chuckling as he promises him quietly to paint him in all of the intense colors of those glittery paints he owns soon and there’s nothing he can do to stop him.

[nite-shay]

His Hero Part 4 (Kirishima Eijirou x Reader)

A/N: I don’t know if I’m completely happy about this chapter. I’m trying to get better with witting panic/anxiety/non-humor, so hopefully, next time, it’ll be a little better. Also, sorry for the long time off and just sporadic posting. Works been hell, but now that we’ll hopefully *grain of salt* were getting more people hired, I’ll have more motivation and time to write 

Warnings: Panic/anxiety , references to sex and/or sexual acts (nothing descriptive but suggestive) so I guess 18+? IDK how this works :/ If yer too young, offended by sex , sexual acts, sexual reference or don’t know where babies come from, please don’t read.

Word count: 3K 

Other then that, please enjoy! :D  

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

*****

Kirishima didn’t protest when Fat sent him home for the day. 

‘Go home. Clear your head. Call me if you need anything.’ 

Honestly, he barely heard his mentor’s words. He just sat there staring at the screen. Watching, pausing, rewinding, and watching again. Over and over again. It wasn’t until Fat picked him up and carried him to the door, did he finally get the memo.

Yeah... he didn’t need to be here right now...

The trip home was nothing but a blur, and honestly, he remembered nothing about it. His body was on autopilot as his mind tried to wrap the possibility that he might have a kid. 

A kid… A son… Your son… His son? But… How? Err… Wait! 

Ok, he knows the ‘how’ of how kids are made. 

Better phrasing, how could this have happened!? He was always careful with anyone he was with! Err, not that was a really long list or anything. Typically, he was only intimate with someone he’s known for a while, and when he was, he’d use a condom, or they were on the pill. 

Oh fuck. How could he have let this happen!?!?

Calm down. Calm down. 

Maybe he was just overthinking everything? It could just be a coincidence. Sure, he and the kid have some similarity, but hey, there’s like, billions of people on the planet! So some are bound to look alike! That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re related, right? Total chance! That’s it! It’s that stuff we learned in school. Static? No, that’s not right; that was in science. The other thing was in math...Statistics! Yeah, that’s it!

So what if the kid has red eyes? His best bud Katsuki does too! 

The sharp teeth? Look no further than his gym bro Tetsu! Hell, depending on the quirk, it can be a super common trait!

The quirk being exactly like his... well, ok, that was… odd. And yeah, he hasn’t run into any with his quirk specifically, but, big but, it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there with his quirk! 

Or maybe it’s not his quirk! Maybe its a similar one! Really, really, reeeealllly similar.

Total coincidence! Anyone can have those traits!

He just… happens to have all of them… just like the kid… whose mother he just happened to have slept with… around six years ago… 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. The air got thinner, making it harder for him to breathe. He jumped off the couch and started pacing. He’s had issues with anxiety for years, and one thing he did learn, when he got like this, he needed to move.

Breath and walk. Breath and walk. Breath and….wait! The kid can’t be more than five! He slept with you six years ago! Ha! The time doesn’t match up! So he can’t be his kid!

His legs felt like jello as the waves of panic finally came to a halt, and took a deep, much-needed deep breath.

He wasn’t a father.

This was a good thing. A great thing!

He doesn’t have a kid. The time frame didn’t add up. He was in the clear.

He should feel happy. Relief. Ecstatic!

So why did he feel like he just got punched in the gut? 

He sighed as he made his way to his fridge in search of something to calm his nerves. Beer isn’t his typical drink of choice, but he was glad he kept a few on hand in moments like this. Since he was single and didn’t have a roommate, his place was the place of choice for ‘bro’s night.’ 

Though sometimes, there was nothing like a cold one to just chill after a long hard day.

He grabbed one of the glass bottles by the neck, activated his quirk, and flicked the lid off with his thumb. Cool little party trick he learned a few years back. 

As he tilted the drink back, he took a long hard swallow and let his mind wander. The beer of choice today was one Katsuki preferred. It was good, smooth going down, and less alcohol content. Which was fine. Ochaco, even after giving birth, still couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol. Pregnancy wasn’t a subject Kirishima knew a lot about, but he knew enough to respect it. 

He’d seen her hauling ass many adays to the toilet of the slightest whiff of something she didn’t like.

Then the cravings came along, which prompted a few late-night trips to the store by Katsuki or himself if his bro was at work. 

He chuckled as he thought about the few times Katsuki had said something to piss her off and sent him over to the redhead’s place for the night. Only to call him back a little while later in tears because of mood swings. 

Towards the end was rough, though. She’d been put on bed rest and was in a lot of pain. Katsuki took fewer shifts during that time to stay home and help ease her in any way he could. 

Damn, she went through all that for, what almost a year? Maybe not quite a year, but it had to be close. 

Was it nine or maybe ten months?

His brain came to a screeching halt, mid-swallow as he started calculating.

Beer spewed out of his mouth and nose as he tried to breathe and swallow at the same time. 

The nine months adds almost a year! *Cough* Meaning the kid’s age would make sense! *Cough Cough*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It can’t be true, can it? He… He’d used protection… hadn’t he?

His mind raced as he thought back to that night six years ago.

It was Izuku’s birthday and his girlfriend, future wife Melissa, rented out a small private Terence at a hotel to celebrate. It was small, maybe fifteen people max: just some friends, family, and a few colleges of the green-haired hero.

He was having a few drinks while chatting with Denki and Hanta when he first saw you. That was when he first saw you… You were chatting with your Melissa and Izuku, and damn… he couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and the way you tried to hide your angelic smile every time you laughed made his heart skip a beat. 

Eventually, his two friends figured out just what or who had caught his attention. Which brought on a relentless amount of teasing. It took about twenty minutes, a few beers, and an angry blonde for him to finally make his way over to you.

Katsuki, at some point, approached his childhood friend, then proceeded to yell at him for some reason or another. Even on his birthday, the guy couldn’t catch a break. Now that he thought about it, it was over something All Might related. Something about a suit and which version was from what era? You were looking rather uncomfortable (Melissa was used to this) at the aggressive (mainly Katsuki) debate. That’s where he came in. With the help of Ochaco and Melissa, he finally got the two distracted enough to send them to opposite corners of the party. 

And then, he was left all alone with you.

He was so nervous that he even stumbled through his own name. Luckily, he played off his nervousness by making light of his two friends. To his surprise, you took his jokes in stride and even had a few comebacks of your own. 

The two of you must have talked for over an hour! Just one conversation after another. He’d never met anyone like you before. You were just so loving, kind, and just… wow!

Then things start to get a little fuzzy.

He remembered talking, drinking, joking, more talking, and more drinking. 

A weird memory of a drunk Denki yelling, “I swear to drunk I’m not God!” before face planting into the punch bowl. 

Then while everyone’s attention was on Denki, the two of you snuck away and back to his room. 

A makeout session on the elevator leads to the two of you missing his floor and shocking an elderly housekeeping lady. That was embarrassing but didn’t seem to stop the two of you.

Then things get really, really blurry, but somehow the two of you made it back to his room without any other incidents. 

While the rest of his memories were bits and pieces, but he… did remember the most of the ‘activates,’ and it’d been consensual, and yeah… he’d definitely used protection! That much he remembered!

The next thing he knew, it was the next morning, where he woke up alone, with a hangover, and felt better than he had in awhile. 

Too bad that feeling didn’t get to last. His phone rang not long after he woke up. It’d been work, a villain was causing trouble, and they needed him asap. 

He showered, dressed, grabbed his stuff, and left. 

Then… he’d gotten hurt… bad…

Ended up in the hospital for nearly a week. 

After he got out, he, well, had an interesting voicemail and charge on his credit card.

He blushed hard as he remembered the hotel’s message regarding the ‘damages’ done to the room. In particular, the ones done to the sheets and headboard. They even sent him pictures!

Damn, he couldn’t believe he lost control of his quirk like that. He hadn’t done that since… well, since his ‘first time.’ That was so embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d hurt you in the process. Of all the pictures and list of damages, blood-stained sheets weren’t listed. Maybe that’s why he never worked up the courage to reach out to you. Even if he didn’t hurt you, he might have scared you...

Wait….

He lost control of his quirk.

Oh… OH SHIT! Realization dawned on him.

Even if he had put a condom on, his quirk might have damaged it!

Then that means… there is a chance he's the father of your son!

FFFFFUCCCCKK!!!!

But wait.

If he really was your son… why haven’t you contacted him?

His footsteps slowed until he came to a standstill.

You would have told him if he was, wouldn’t you?

Granted, the two of you never exchanged numbers, and we’ll it’s not like he did much to reach out to you either, but… You would have known he’s friends with Izuku, so you knew a way to contact him. 

Two-way street, buddy. He internally lashed himself.

Between racking his brain and scolding himself, he didn’t hear the knock on his door until the visitor started pounding. 

“Oi! Shifty hair! Answer the damn door!” A loud, brash voice that could only belong to one person yelled through the abused door.

Katsuki? Why was he here?

Kirishima hurried over to the door before the blonde got too impatient and blew it down… again. He took a deep breath and put on his brightest and cheerful grin before opening the door to greet his grumpy best friend. 

“Oh hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” 

“Don’t bro me! Why the hell am I getting called from your boss to check up on you?” He growled.

“Fat called you?” That was a surprise. 

“Yeah, he did. Had to switch my patrol around and everything.” He brushed past the redhead, letting himself in. Kirishima sighed as he shut the door behind them. 

“I’m really sorry about that. Not sure wh-”

“Don’t start that bullshit with me.” Those fierce red eyes locked on to him. “And drop that fake ass smile. Always hated when you did that shit.” He mutters.

Damn, Fat just had to go and call him of all people. 

If it’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he could play this off. A bright grin, crack a joke or two, maybe a few reassuring words, and he could send them on their way. 

But not him.  No, not Katsuki. Most people wouldn’t in a million years think the aggressive blonde could show anything other than anger. And yeah, the guy was rough around the edges, and he wasn’t the best with words. But nonetheless, here he was. 

And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

Fuck. 

“So why am I here?” Katsuki wasn’t backing down, so Kirishima took a deep breath.

“What did Fat tell you?” While his smile didn’t waver, he felt his stomach belly flop to the floor. 

“Bastard would spill it, just said you’d need me right and to get over here. Now what the fuck is going on?” While he still sounded angry, there was an underline concern in his tone that most people tend to miss. 

Who would have known that would be the thing to make him crack? Well, obviously, Fatgum knew, hence why he sent the blonde over. The great explosive hero was one of the few people that could blow a hole right through his hardened armor. 

Both figuratively and literally.

With tears in his eyes, he dropped his bright grin and let the damn of emotion bust. He explained everything that had happened. The robbery, the hospital, you, your son, the night he first met you, the security footage, everything! Hell, he was sure he went into a little too much detail when he described you and that night.

The blonde just stood there shell shocked as he tried to absorb the word vomit hurled at him. 

“S-so, yeah… I might… have a…” he couldn’t finish. He just let the silence hang between them. 

“You… dumbass.” He sighed quietly, running his hand through his hair before looking him right in the eyes. While his best friend was known far and wide to have a temper, when shit got real, it was eerie how calm and focused he was. “Are you sure he’s your?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean-”

“Have you talked to the mother?”

“N-No!” 

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” He pressed. “Does anyone else think you’re the father?”

“No! Well, Fat might, but that’s cause he was with me when I put the piece together. But I haven’t told or asked anyone else about this. Honestly, other than the mother, I don’t even know who else to go-” The redhead piped up. Something flashed in his friend’s eyes, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Fuck was he made? He hadn’t come to him about this yet!? Of course, he was! He was finding this out because his boss called him, not because he had called him! Some friend he is... “I was totally going to call you about this! I swear! You’re my best friend. This just happened so suddenly!”

“I know you would, Ei. Chill.” The blonde’s features soften for a second, soothing the redhead some. But he could tell Katsuki was trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not mad at you but, I’ll ask again. Does anyone else know about this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I only found out about this today, and I haven’t had any contact with (Y/N) since the other day and well at Izuku’s birthday party.”

“Ok. Stay here for a bit. You need to calm down. We need more information first. If he isn’t your kid, you’re losing your shit for nothing. And if he is... well,” He paused, “Cross that bridge when you come to it.” He pushed the hero towards the couch and made him sit down. “I need to make a phone call.” 

Kirishima blinked as his best friend made his way towards his front door. “NOW SIT THERE. SHUT UP AND CALM DOWN!”

*SLAM*

This was a new level of anger for the blonde. He couldn’t stand seeing the redhead like this. He felt even worse, leaving him alone like this. The damn guy lived off socialization with others, so for him to be facing this alone. 

Yeah... it really pissed him off.

The blonde stomped his way back to his apartment, which was just a few doors down. He did need to make a phone call; he hadn’t been lying. But it was a call, that big, dense red rock didn’t need to hear. 

Fuck. He couldn’t believe this. Did shitty hair really have a kid? 

Katsuki made his way inside his home. The home he shared with not only his wife but his newborn daughter. 

Fuck. He has a kid… and he never even knew. 

As he made his way through the foyer and into the living room, something caught his eye. Something black, orange, green, and tiny laid on top of a basket of unfolded laundry. It was the custom design onesie Momo had gotten for their daughter as a baby shower gift. The custom design was made to look like his hero costume. While he scoffed at the thing initially, he made sure that she wore home from the hospital. 

Well, tried. About halfway through the hospital parking lot, she decided now was the best time to need a diaper and outfit change. 

Little brat. He smirked.

If you’d ask him a few years ago what he thought of kids, he would have brushed it off, not really caring about it. His hero career was his focus. He needed no had to be number one. 

But now that he has a little one of his own, he realized there was more to life than being number one. Was he still going to do it? You bet your ass, but now that he has his wife and his child that climb to the top well, he couldn’t dream of making it there without them. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without her. Let alone a world where he didn’t realize she existed.

He whipped out his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

Especially if someone knew about them. 

He took a deep breath and hit send.  

Someone close to not only the kid but himself. 

And still not tell him.

He knows. There’s no way in hell that precipitative little shit doesn’t know!

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“K-Kacchan. This is a surprise. You never call. Is everything-” Katsuki cut him off. 

“We need to talk. Now.” 

****

Links: Part 1,  Part 2 ,  Part 3, Part 4

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01 ,  @simpforeveryone , @remember-happy-things 

[zontiky]

okay so i tried to save this ask as a draft and it got deleted because tumblr is just such a functional website like that <3 but the prompt was “the hargreeves as ghosts in the apocalypse with five” or something like that i’m going to scream

this is SUPER long so i’m putting it under the cut hfkjsd

pre-five: the hargreeves siblings are dead. wait i feel a drabble coming on ooh

The Hargreeves siblings are dead.

Ben isn’t very aware of this at first. He’s been dead since 2006 -- he’s quite used to it, by now. What he is aware of, first, is light. Blinding white light. And Vanya, in the middle of it. He doesn’t close his eyes because he can’t feel pain, but if he could he thinks she would have made him blind. There’s light, and heat, and power, and then he closes his eyes anyway because the ceiling is collapsing around him and it’s instinctual.

When he opens them again he sees ash. Ash -- and Klaus.

He’s gotten used to Klaus, too. Klaus has a memorable sort of face; even if he didn’t, Ben has seen it every single day for almost twenty years. He doesn’t know if it’s actually been twenty years, for him. He doesn’t know how time moves for ghosts. Klaus has assured him it moves the same as it does for the living. Ben isn’t sure Klaus, stoned out of his mind, bleeding sluggishly from his arm, knew what he was talking about.

Anyway.

Klaus.

He’s wearing the coat he’s been flaunting around for the past week. His shirt is see-through, with little stars on it, like a pale imitation of the sky. Ben remembers his pants had laces on them, he’s sure they did not a minute ago, before the brightness that threatened to wipe out his very soul -- his soul is all he has left, really. His gaze drifts down anyway, to check.

Yes. Klaus’ pants have laces up the sides.

“No,” Ben says. Klaus is laying in a heap on the ground, his fingers curled like his tendons have been cut.

His lips feel numb because they always feel numb. Because Ben can’t feel at all. He takes a step. “No,” he says again, louder, surer. “No!”

Klaus looks up at him. His makeup is smudged, like it tends to be. His lips are bitten raw, like they tend to be. His hair is a mess, like it tends to be, and like it will be, always, because Klaus isn’t breathing.

Klaus is lying in a heap on the ground. Klaus is standing above his own body. Klaus is reaching for Ben like he’s hoping to touch him for the first time in years. Just when Klaus’ cold, dead, fingers brush his face, a voice from behind says, so quietly, dripping with disbelief: “Ben?”

Ben shuts his eyes and wishes desperately he could cry.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, for the first time in so, so long, but he also doesn’t feel it at all. He feels-but-doesn’t-feel someone turn him around, until they are saying, “Ben? Ben!” and he has no choice but to open his eyes and face the music.

Diego is gripping his shoulders like he is a dying man and Ben is the answer. Behind him, Luther and Allison watch them, stunned silent. Allison’s hands are pressed to her mouth. She looks like she wants to cry. 

And Vanya. Little Vanya, painted white. Her head is hung as her shoulders shake with the weight of the destruction she has so inevitably caused. (Ben would say he always knew she was destined for great things -- but he can’t, because he didn’t.) (Nobody ever said great things had to be good.)

The Hargreeves siblings are dead. Their bodies are strewn across what is left of their childhood home, smouldering and burning, and Ben is very aware of that fact.

righto anyway. so they have an emotional reunion but its also kind of bitter? id have to actually write this for it to make sense so lets skip it for now lol

five shows up

he cannot see them obviously bc theyre all ghosts

god if i did write this it would be such a monster of a fic and would take me like 2 years to finish i already know fhkjdsk

somehow ?? they manage to influence the world around them maybe? idk maybe now that klaus is dead hes sober

or maybe hes high for all eternity?

for the purposes of this au lets say he died sober or in the late stages of withdrawal, and bc ghosts cant feel pain in action hes sober

so EVENTUALLY they figure out how to corporealize bc klaus is like blam wham ghost powers

asdlfk that sounds so stupid im sorry

he would say that tho imho,,, it sounds like something hed say,,,

if i DID write this it would be alternating povs also,,,

ok so out of all of them klaus and ben have the most experience homeless

and while being stuck in an apocalypse is not at all the same thing as being homeless it does help to have some knowledge

five doesnt eat the twinkie!! good for him

dammit okay. theres 2 options we can take here. in the comics five couldnt get back bc he fucked up his math and spent 15 years doing the wrong thing, but if u apply that here, with 6 other ppl checking his work this could be avoided and they end up skipping the whole assassin shtick and just hopping straight back to 2019, ready to prevent the apocalypse

OR five still gets hired for the commission but the sibs are tagging along

i think bc five isnt completely alone in this au unfortunately dolores doesnt exist :((

for each other the 2 paths tho theres also options?? bc they (ghosts) can go back in time and inhabit their past selves bodies? OR they could just,,, cease to exist

IM JUST NOW REALIZING HOW MANY PATHS THIS COULD TAKE,, AAH FUCK

okay gonna split this into parts. this is gonna be so long brace yourselves.

1) they go back in time because math checking and the ghosts swap out for their past selves

after multiple years of being stuck in an apocalypse together i think they would learn to get along with each other. like at least a little bit

which would make it easier for them to prevent the apocalypse

bc theyd:

trust each other more

already know abt the apocalypse and not have to wait for five to grace them all with his knowledge

are working as a team from the very beginning

have open lines of communication

yeah uh. so there

vanya is also already aware of her powers so the whole harold goading her into turning against her family and snapping to wipe out all life on earth thing? yeah that doesnt happen

oh and harold wouldn’t know how to do that in the first place because klaus wouldn’t throw out reggie’s journal! this solves so many problems wtf

there’s still commission issues bc they (and by they i mean five) are on the commission’s radar

so there’s still dope fight scenes sdlkfd pinky promise

okay idk. they stop the apocalypse and everything is okay the end hfkjd

2) they fix the math but only five can go back and the ghosts cease to exist

this is just sad! it would be sad okay! im sad! lets move on

subset of the past one: ben CAN go back with five because he was already dead and time travel affects them differently or something idk

aaaaaa

five & ben dynamic duo would be dope as shit BUT five would not be able to see him... so they use klaus as a middleman fjsdsfd

is there 2 bens? is one ben deleted in favor of the time-traveling ben? i dont know! i dont know my brain is melting

either way shit is happening yall!! obviously klaus is clued in, directly or indirectly it doesnt matter but he is on board the ‘don’t let the entire world end in flames’ train

3) they join the commission and then when five goes back in time they all go back

this is fun because now five is a highly trained assassin who is also lowkey a complete marshmallow for his siblings and once again TEAMWORK WOO

basically the first path but now five has a gun fhsdjk

4) they join the commission but five has to leave them behind and they cease to exist

five with a gun but hes sad now

i didnt go into how much losing his siblings would suck in the prev path but like. it would suck so much. he’s already lost them once if you think about it when he time traveled the first time and yeah he found the adult ghost versions but,, its different

and now suddenly hes stuck with these strange adult versions of the people he knows and he KNOWS them but also he doesnt? at all? they dont have all the years of shared experiences together? and theyre all grown up from the first ‘set’ of siblings he had which for five was like 40+ years ago??

SCREAMS

i have losing my mind disease (self-diagnosed)

subset: five has to leave them behind but they still exist because the commission is out-of-time kind of? idk but they’re still floating around somewhere and come back to impact the plot later or something

yeah idk. literally just wrote them down bc i didnt want them to die^2 hfkjwehd

subset: they still exist but instead of being just Somewhere they’re specifically at the assassination of JFK onwards because thats where five left them and they either go on ghosting and make an appearance in s2 OR they cease because them-wise they havent died yet but that doesnt make sense because ghosts can time travel so nevermind

i dont have the brain energy left to explore this one aaaa

okay jesus christ i think that’s all

I DON’T KNOW. i don’t know. i might write some more of this because honestly it is a very fine flavor of angst + hurt/comfort <3

[captainaudreyjensen]

new beginnings

Prompt: hi! idk if you take requests still, but can you do an imagine with audrey where y/n, audrey and noah have a horror night together and noah mistakenly puts on a movie where an animal dies ( maybe either hereditary or the conjuring ), even though y/n draws the line at horror films with animal deaths? then it really shakes y/n up a lot and audrey ends up comforting her.

This was a really cool request because I also hate when animals die in horror movies

Words: 1951

Warnings: swearing and mention of a animal death I do state before the paragraph that it happens. The film is the babadook, so spoiler warnings and also its a dog. 

Following the murders, it had become something of a tradition with Audrey and Noah to hold a movie night every Friday. Once a month they’d invite the rest of the Lakewood Five, every now and again Stavo would join and occasionally they’d invite whoever they’d happened to be seeing at the time. 

You were relatively new to town and you’d fallen in with Noah pretty quickly as you were smart and funny. You also happened to be openly *your sexual orientation* and taking the same classes as him. From the start he’d pegged you as a good match for Audrey as you had the same style, sense of humour and, well, Lakewood was a small town, the pickings were slim. 

Noah had waited a few weeks for you to settle in before he brought up the idea, but recently he’d become more insistent. Today had been no exception, he’d caught you as you left the last class of the day and done some insisting. 

“You’re perfect for her, Y/N. You’re so sweet, you’re smart and funny,” he’d laughed “and you have no random ties to Lakewood from a past life that might come back to haunt us,” a cautious pause, “that we know of.” 

Honestly you quite liked the idea. Audrey had always been nice to you, she was funny, and so hot; but you didn't want to push it or force anything on her that she wasn’t super into. Because of this, you’d resisted getting to know her too well. You were also immensely aware of the fate of her exs. Audrey had been devastated by Rachel’s death, and though she had dated a couple of other girls, none of them had seemed to work out. It was no secret that all of the girls of the Lakewood Six had struggled with their relationships after the Kieran revelation. 

 “I really don’t know, Noah,” you’d replied, “is this something you’ve even discussed with Audrey?”

“Uh, well,” he’d laughed, flustered, “not exactly.”

“Okay then,” you smiled, but you felt a little hurt, “bye Noah.” Why had he been so persistent if Audrey didn’t even know it was a conversation he was having?

“Y/N, please,” he grabbed your arm, “hear me out.”

And you did. He explained that Audrey had told him (on separate occasions) that she felt she was ready for something new, and -in passing- that she thought you were cute. “I know she’s ready, I just don’t want to push too hard too soon,” he’d told you.

You nodded, still unsure, the last thing you wanted was to be something Audrey would regret. 

“So, I was thinking,” Noah was ecstatic, like he’d just had the greatest epiphany of all time, “you should come to movie night tonight.”

“Isn’t it an invite only, private movie night, just for you guys?” “Well, kinda. But it’s also a way for you guys to hang out outside of school, no pressure.”

“And the group won’t feel weird that I’m there?” “It’s just Audrey and I tonight,” he couldn’t have been more proud of himself, “and you, of course.” 

You’d attempted to tell Noah that you weren’t sure, especially because you weren’t 100% clear on anything other than the ‘movie night’ part, but before you could say anything else Noah was out the door, yelling “see you there, text you the details” as he ran.

-  

You aren’t even sure whose house you’re arriving at as you pull into the driveway. Your watch reads 8:45; you’re early, but only just. You grab the snacks from your passengers seat -if you were going to come you were going to come prepared- and head for the door. You only have to wait a few seconds after ringing the bell before the door opens and you’re greeted by Audrey. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Audrey exclaimes, dressed in a black tank top and plaid PJ pants. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Of course Noah didn’t tell her.

“Noah invited me,” you blurt, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you sound. 

“Cool,” Audrey nods, “you’re early, though. Like, super early.”

“Noah said nine?” 

“It’s usually nine thirty,” Audrey nods. 

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burning. “I brought snacks,” your arm flies up, and the snacks fling around in the bag. 

“Reusable,” she smiles, “that’s cool,” Audrey says as she steps out of the way, gesturing for you to come in. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “save the environment and all.”

“Sure.”

It’s so awkward you could kill Noah. 

Audrey leads you into the kitchen and stops on one side of the counter, “can I get you a drink?”

“Uh, sure,” you say, looking around, “your house is so quiet.”

“Yeah, my dads out for the weekend,” she pauses and smiles, “business and all,” she mocks your awkward remark from earlier. 

You laugh, starting to unpack the bag as she pours you a drink. 

“Wow, you really brought everything,” Audrey laughs, impressed. 

“Oh yeah,” you remark, “I come prepared.”

“These are my favourite!” Audrey exclaimes, picking up a packet of sweets.

“Mine too,” you laugh, “I brought ‘em in every flavour.”

“Nice.”

Audrey pulls out bowls, and you start filling them with all your supplies. Time seems to pass at an exceptional speed, because before you know it, Noah’s knocking at the door. 

“He’s late,” Audrey states matter-of-factly, before grabbing and opening another packet of chips.

“So you’re not letting him in?” you laugh. “Not immediately,” she smiles, shrugging, “he made us wait.”

You spend a couple more minutes in the kitchen filling bowls and chatting, and almost forget about Noah altogether. 

Noah, however, refuses to be forgotten; knocking incessantly until the door opens.

“Took you long enough!” He exclaims, pushing past Audrey. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“You’re late,” Audrey states, crosses her arms; she looks so cute when she’s pretending to be mad.

“But I brought snacks,” Noah smiles, holding up a bag of popcorn and a chocolate bar. 

You gesture to the table you and Audrey have spent the past almost hour filling with chocolate, sweets, chips and popcorn -among other things. 

“Woah, where’d all this come from.” 

Audrey smiles at you, and you state, “I like to come prepared.” 

“Well then,” Noah winks at you, “let's get this party started.”

Audrey turns to you, “it’s Noah’s turn to pick films this week, so they’re probably going to be some outdated indie films with a very disjointed plot.”

“Classics, Audrey, not outdated. And by the way, they’re classics for a reason,” Noah smiles, “but no, actually this week I was thinking: new cult classics.” “How can they be cult classics if they’re new,” you smirk.

“They just are,” Noah huffs, falling onto an armchair. 

You nod, taking a seat on the couch. Audrey sits next to you, almost a bit close. 

“So what are we watching, then?”  

“We’re starting with the Babadook, then It Follows and finally Cabin in the Woods.”

“Cool,” you nod, you haven’t seen any of them but you’re open to it. 

“Shall we begin?” Noah asks, grabbing the remote. You and Audrey nod as he types, Babadook into the menu.

Audrey gets up to turn out the lights, you grab a bowl of popcorn and watch as the film starts. Audrey sits back down and shuffles closer to you, placing her hand in the bowl; your stomach settles, maybe this won’t be so bad. 

The first half of the film wasn’t for you but as it progressed Audrey had moved incrementally closer, and as the film reached its climax she was almost in your lap. You had pretty much stopped focusing on the film altogether, and you were fine with that, Audrey smelt like sandalwood and vanilla. You’d been watching what was happening on screen but -with almost no context- it made little sense. 

*animal death mentioned*

You were up to a part where the Babadook has possessed Amelia, and just as you were starting to get back into the film, it happened. Amelia breaks the neck of the poor little dog. 

*mention over*

You jump at the sight of it, immediately feeling ill. Tears well in your eyes, and you begin  to struggle to breathe. 

Audrey turns to you, concerned. 

“Are you okay, Y/N.” 

Tears stream down your face, and you choke out a, “yeah.” 

Audrey isn’t convinced, “Noah, turn it off,” she says, growing concerned. 

“But this is the good bit,” Noah wines, “she’s just about to-”

“Fucks sake, Noah, turn it off!” Audrey yells. She pulls you closer to her.

This time Noah compiles, jumping for the remote. You’re still in shock.

 “I’m fine,” you whisper, “it’s fine,” you repeat with mascara stained cheeks. 

You try your hardest to hold it in. It's just a movie, you tell yourself. But you can’t control yourself as you start to sob. You feel yourself curl up, resting your head in the crook of her neck. 

“Y/N,” Noah realises what’s going on, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Now you’re the one almost in Audrey’s lap. You feel her hand on your back where your shirt has started to lift; it's warm on your bare skin, slowly moving to soothe you. Her other hand sits on the back of your neck, fingers at the start of your scalp. 

You forget what it was that you were crying about. All you can think about is how good you feel being held by Audrey. So comfortable; so safe.

You’re reminded of how good Audrey smells; the sandalwood and vanilla from before are mixed with the butter and salt of the popcorn, as well as the sweet raspberry and grape of your favourite sweets. She smells delicious, and you become overwhelmed by your urge to kiss her. 

You don’t remember when you stopped crying but suddenly you have. Everything is still. You lift your head from Audrey’s shoulder, staring up at her. 

“You okay?” she asks.

You nod, realising Noah is no longer in the room. 

Your back feels cold as her other hand moves up to your neck. Audrey wipes away a streak of your mascara, resting her thumb on your cheek. She now cradles your face in her hands, her eyes darting between your lips, tear stained cheeks and your eyes. 

She hasn’t moved to kiss you but she hasn’t moved away, so you inch forward. Audrey closes the gap, leaning her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, brushing your lips against hers. They’re soft. Her scent is so strong now, you feel like you could get drunk on it. 

Smiling, you pull back; Audrey lingers. Her eyes open and she smiles at you. You laugh, unsure of what to say. 

Audrey pulls you back in, kissing you again but harder. Her left hand finds its way to your waist. Your right hand moves up, resting on her cheek. 

You hear Noah re enter the room, but you aren’t sure of what he said. You and Audrey pull apart, and she gives you a peck, before turning to look up at Noah. 

“What up, mood killer?” she questions. 

“I was just going to ask if you guys wanted to watch a different movie maybe? But I can leave again,” Noah heads back in the direction of the kitchen. 

“It’s okay,” you and Audrey say in unison, laughing at the coincidence. 

“We can watch another one,” Audrey says, before turning her attention back to you, “do you want to stay tonight?” 

You simply nod. 

Noah smiles at the two of you together and nods before saying, “how about just Scream?”

“A classic,” you laugh, “sure.” 

Noah sets up the film. You and Audrey shuffle around on the couch intertwined, trying to get comfortable.

[nctsiren]

🌹🍒 🔥 🍑 🧡🌳🌠🔮💜🌸🌺 for Evie sorry again for how many there are

madam do NOT apologize!! i def went overboard w answers but!! hope u like guysss~~

🌹: evie is charismatic asf and finds it super easy to befriend people!! that doesn't mean she tries to befriend everybody, though- in fact, she's picky with friends (that sounds bad i promise it isn't) because The Vibe Needs To Be Right. people can piss her off but she never makes enemies- however, she'll speak up if someone is bein ridiculous or annoying, so people will get mad with HER. she doesn't have anyone she hates, she's chill. nd she can talk to anyone at a party- but if she isn't into it, she'll vibe on her own or do what she wants.

🍒: evie doesn't really expect things from people persay- she just wants to be treated kindly, fairly, and she wants people to show her respect. and the people she's friends with/in romantic relationships with are the same way, because the people she surrounds herself with are also of that mindset. in friendships, she wants a friend, y'know? healthy friendships, fun, vibing, etc. in romantic relationships, she doesn't have a type, really, and she likes to mesh with people depending on the situation. she is versatile in many senses and can get with all the love languages. she just wants either fun (she doesn't strictly date to marry or anything) or love (again depending on the person). she isn't demanding, nor is she a doormat.

🔥: (am answering the likes nd dislikes from the prompt only cuz brain is mush today) evie wears dark colors (like 80% of the time) but loves all colors- she's an artist, after all. she hates the way gravel and sidewalks feel on her bare feet, but she loves being barefoot, so she'll overlook it. socks make her feet feel too restricted. she likes feeling free, and although she will wear anything as long as she's feeling it, she likes loose things when she's relaxing. she likes to walk around with minimal clothing- but, like, i mean underwear and a big shirt, or loose pants and a sports bra. she likes feeling air on her skin. she listens to ALL music, but she's really into indie, britpop, 70s, and other shit i can't think of words for. mainstream bops & also really obscure shit- putting her music on shuffle is like whiplash tbh. nd she LOVES snowy weather oh my god she thinks all weather is gorgeous (she will see beauty in literally anything, she LOVES nature) but cold weather smells good and something about snow awakens this beautiful wonder in people- evie ADORES that

🍑: her room. listen evie isn't a homebody or anything, but her room is her creative space. and london, of course, where she grew up, but that's a bit more... broad. hmm... another is this little meadow she found (in england) where sh would go to sketch, nap, meditate, listen to music, and just lay in the sun. she feels a little bad about it, but that's what she misses most from home- tied w her missing her little brother and sister (they're nine and twins). her meadow, to her, was like. the freedom to just exist and observe and enjoy. sometimes she's confused why she chose idol life- it's restrictive, and not really her style- but tbh she enjoys it and wouldn't change it. anyway on the flip side, evie HATES being in really tall buildings. she isn't even afraid of heights!! i mean she can handle it, it's not too big of a deal, she just hates it for some reason.

🧡: honestly, evie doesn't have a singular favorite person... she loves all of her family, her members, her friends. but it is worth noting that mila is her best friend. she's close to all the girls, and a lot of the guys (hyuck, lucas, ten, yuta, taeil, taeyong, johnny, hendery, yangyang in particular) OH AND KRIS (as in kris wu, her cousin) SHE LOVES HIM. but mila is just. basically her other half LMAO their bond is crazy and they're truly bff's, ride-or-dies, despite their differences. they bring out the best in each other. nd she doesn't hate anyone- the people she actually dislikes tho are certain members and people in the industry/company that are like. the corporate ones ig

🌳: T/W- TOXIC PARENTS, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF WEED

evie has always had a strong self identity (for the most part) and has def gone through some shit (gifted kid burnout too omfg she was in advanced EVERYTHING but that shit kinda wears you out and her parents were horrible with school & her career). her biggest issues growing up? the pressure from her parents and basically just them shitting on her. they were mentally/emotionally abusive and she was really depressed during her adolescence. she doesn't have clinical depression or mental illness tho. she also didn't have MANY friends because her parents were horrible and wanted her to study nd not be a disappointment- which they said a lot. she started going out regardless when she was a lil older- not even sneaking out, just straight up walking out. her parents literally DRUG TESTED HER. but she is a social, bold person by nature so she wasn't having it. she has a higher sense of self worth now because of how far she has come and she doesn't bat an eye at her parents- in fact, she's mostly cut off from them. she's in SUCH a better place in her adulthood, in korea. her parents still don't support her career choice and do NOT stream ddd >:( she just worries about her little brother and sister... if they get the same treatment as she did, she WILL go batshit. she calls her siblings a lot, facetimes them, sends gifts and money- they love her and she is ITCHING to see them again. she was always close to them. anyway, she'd tell her younger self to not give a fuck about what her parents said, as much as it hurt. you can CHOOSE your family. she'd tell little evie to pursue her passions, and that she was gonna be doing great things one day. nd she'd tell teenage evie to smoke more weed 😌

🌠: evie's first friend was this kid from first grade who she doessn't remember anything about, she just remembers that they were her friend for a bit, and their face LMAO. she hasn't really lost contact with people persay? like during her nine months of training she couldn’t talk to them HEH and then apologized and it picked right back up. her girls in london MISS HERRRR and she misses them too :(

🔮: star gazing or cloud watching? hand-holding or snuggles? early mornings or late nights?

💜: music or silence? swords or spells? cities or nature?

🌸: her voice sounds like yuqi's (her face claim, if no one knew) in terms of singing and speaking! deep and charming and lovely. she's also... pretty loud. her laugh is also like yuqi's, but the specific laugh that's like BIG and it's like a barking(?) laugh. she laughs with her whole ass body too. OH YEAh BUT her speaking voice is yuqi's, like i said, but with a british accent. the london accent.

🌺: she doesn't have any birthmarks, and she only has little scars from various stupid shit she has done (idk if anyone remembers but in her profile i said she loves adrenaline, is kinda reckless, and will do any dare). she doesn't have any tattoos YET but is planning some (just wait omfg lily is a BIG tattoo/piercing person- her stuff is coming soon, evie is HYPED ASF to get her tattoos, and hyeyoung has a few- getting more too)

TAGLIST: @aqueenieme @moonbeamsung @atinygracie @jinsoulorbitzen12 @btshook @1-800-enhypenbibi

[unicyclehippo]

idk if this is the kind of prompt you were looking for but maybe a take on beau never joins the m9 and the first time they meet her is when she's an expositor and how they react to her saving them from something

maybe not what u wanted , but all i could think about

//

The time they were given, left to wait in the antechamber of the castle, was enough to catch their breath but not nearly long enough to recover or start that process, so it is still bruised and bloodied that they follow the Marshal into the throne room.

The chamber is grand. Far beyond anything their patchwork party has ever seen before. It is comparable in size, in grandeur to the Bright Queen’s throne room, except that where her space had been a clear, clean, shattered prism of crystal and a pure but cold light, here is all severe grey stone, heavy and firm, and stained glass. The pretty colours do nothing to mellow the space; if anything, all the windows do is highlight how dizzyingly tall the ceiling of the chamber is as they stretch higher and higher.

Their boots tap against stone. Echo in the vast space around them. The Nein walk across, through, the scored lines of light that burn from those windows across the floor.

Ahead of them rides a great set of stairs that honestly, at this point, just feels like torture. They’re beat to shit. They’re tired. They don’t want to do this. If they’re gonna be killed, the King could at least have the decency to not make them climb a hundred steps first.

The Marshal nods them forward, expression brooking no disagreement.

‘I wish—I had died,’ Fjord groans, quietly. He’s panting as he climbs. ‘Honestly, if I have to—oh god—climb another step, I’m gonna throw myself—ha—down them.’

Jester grips his hand hard. Struggles for a smile, but with each step she’s losing her breath and it has less to do with exertion and far more to do with the fear squeezing her heart as the heads and shoulders and cool faces of the Council start to show above the platform.

A man with shoulder length hair and a long, thin goatee, both streaked with grey sits upon his throne, wooden and backed with an immensely tall and ornately carved back. The man looks to once have been fit and strong but now, in perhaps his early sixties, the muscle he had built has gone soft. There is nothing soft in the way he stares at them, cuts suspicious stares down over each of them in turn—lingering on Fjord, on Jester and Molly, on Nott. He is the King, and Jester thinks she would have known that even without the circlet that rests upon his head.

The names and faces of the remainder of the Council blur, all of them imposing, none of them welcoming. Jester searches their number for something, anythjng to focus on, as Caduceus begins to talk and panics, and as Fjord takes over, smooth and calm. No sign of the panic Jester knows he must be feeling.

It is when the Martinet steps forward that Jester sees her.

Seated behind the Martinet is a young human woman, not much older than Jester if at all, with dark skin and dark hair, which she wears pulled back into a handsome top knot and the sides shaved. Fine robes cover her clothes; they are similar to what the Martinet wears, but far less adorned. Which is not to say that she doesn’t shine at all—there is a small mantle of office draped across her shoulders, plain in comparison but still weighty, and gold glints in several places on her ears. Her face is handsome, though more stern than Jester would expect to see on someone so young, and unmarred save for a scar that cuts deep into her brow, dividing it into uneven parts.

She must feel Jester’s attention on her because suddenly blue eyes are fixed on her in turn and Jester can do nothing but stand still, stuck in place not because of this stupid terrifying audience with the King of the Empire, but by the powerful force of this stranger’s attention. She looks over Jester as though she can see into her, as though Jester were an open book and she a speed reader—and then her eyes skip up to meet Jester’s again, seemingly for no particular reason, and she smiles.

It’s not much. A flicker of a smile. A smudge of a smile. It isn’t kind, it isn’t sweet, but it is somehow very reassuring.

The smile is gone as quickly as it came and then they are answering a lot of very scary questions like How does the Bright Queen know about you? Why would she care about you? (and Jester does not like the tone of that question, like they’re stupid, or small, or worthless, and How did you know about the cult if you are not a part of it?

Jester’s attention drifts back to the girl. She’s taking notes in a quick hand, has been the whole time—but now her hand is still and poised above the page and she is looking at Yasha of all people with keen interest. What can she see? If she is the Martinet’s assistant, does that mean she’s magical? What does she know about Yasha, about all of them, just by looking?

‘I scried on them,’ Jester blurts. Feels the world spin around her. ‘Mister King? This is a very tall platform, um,’

‘You scried on them?’ the Martinet prompts, before the Kings darkening expression boils over into a storm.

‘Yes. We found a thingy—‘

‘A...thingy.’

Jester swallows hard. ‘A device. That was being used to open portals.’ She tries to remember what Allura and Caleb had told them. ‘They were planting them everywhere to open rifts to the Hells—‘

‘Abyss,’ Fjord coughs.

‘Abyss,’ Jester corrects, voice pitching higher as her heart rattled with nerves. ‘It’s like termites!’

‘Termites,’ the Martinet repeats.

Jester wonders if he has ever had to worry about anything like that, anything as ordinary and mundane and troublesome as termites.

‘Yah. They eat wood? They’re little and white and look a bit like ants,’

‘I know what termites are. I am not in need of a lesson on beetles at this time.’

‘Technically, technically, they’re insects,’

‘Maybe ixnay on the ugbay essonlay,’ Fjord hisses.

‘She’s right.’ The voice comes from behind the Martinet. He turns, brows raised, to the girl taking notes. Her voice is nice, Jester notes. Kinda brash and rough, but warm. She sounds like a real person, like the people they’ve spoken to all over the continent. Not like these polished martinets and kings.

‘Pardon?’

‘Termites. They’re insects, not beetles.’

The Martinet sighs. ‘Yes, very good, thank you Beauregard.’ He turns back to Jester. ‘So, to clarify, you found this device that opened portals to the Abyss in the manner of...a termite?’

Jester thinks about it for a moment. ‘No.’

‘There were many devices,’ Nott interjects. Realises—remembers—too late that she is a goblin. But the King and Martinet are watching her now, so she continues. ‘We found—three? Of them. And there were more we heard about but didn’t see.’

‘With each one that opens, they...undermine the integrity of the planes,’ Jester says, trying to repeat what Allura and Caleb had said.

Up there on the platform, Allura nods encouragingly.

The girl—Beauregard—looks with interest toward the Arcanist, and back at the Nein once more. There’s a thoughtful crease between her brows and she seems to be taking notes in earnest now, though no one is speaking.

‘You said you scried on these people. Would you be able to describe them, beyond the ones you slew?’

Jester licks her lips. Glances across to Fjord who shrugs helplessly. Cad looks like he’s still mid panic attack but she knows his thoughts on it—honestly. Caleb meets her eyes cautiously, careful not to stray sideways to the white haired jaundiced man upon the platform. He nods the smallest amount.

‘I can—we can name one of them. An empire agent who is part of the cult.’

‘Then do so,’ the King commands.

Jester nods to him a few times, fast, jewellery jangling it seems far too loud in her ears. She stills. Feels her attention dragged back to the Martinet and, behind him, the note-taker.

‘Vence Nutheylas.’

Things devolve quickly from there—accusations are thrown at the Nein, at Allura, hinted at the Martinet, Ikithon is a fucking creep, the King makes puppets of the Nein to solve the problem of this war for him. And as they are escorted down and out from the castle and into the light rain of the Shimmer Ward, they pass by a shaded corridor and Jester glimpses the tail of a red cloak. The Martinet, walking briskly down It and away, shadowed by his assistant. Jester can barely hear them, the words echoing down the corridor.

His deep voice is troubled. ‘—and Vence,’ he hisses, groans. ‘And I gave him an amulet. What a fool I am!’

The girl doesn’t disagree. ‘I warned you about him.’

‘I can’t dismiss someone so talented just because you say he’s slimy,’ the Martinet chides, exhausted. Clearly, they have had that discussion before. ‘And these...Mighty Nein? What do you make of them?’

The girl glances back over her shoulder before they turn the corner. Eyes lock once more with Jester’s, who now realises she has slowed to a stop, right in the middle of the corridor.

‘I don’t know,’ she says, thoughtful. Gentle. Not in a soft way, but delicate. Like a hand brushing dirt from a relic, interested in what lays beneath. ‘But I’ll be very interested to find out.’

//

Kamaruth Cottage is lovely. Warm and comfortable.

Something about it rubs Jester the wrong way. Maybe the way it aims for rustic but is far too pristine, too comfortable to really be rustic. Like it’s just pretending. A giant mimic, waiting to gobble them up.

She draws that idly in her notebook as they wait for dinner. A cottage, thatched eyebrows, a giant slobbering tongue as the red carpet leading to the front desk. A dozen window eyes staring.

Maybe it’s the way the theyre given seven rooms. Expected to split up. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Dinner is a quiet affair. Molly hasn’t let go of Yasha yet, doesn’t let go of her arm even when Fjord trades five hundred gold for a heavy tome he passes to her. They talk some, eat some. Nott drinks. Cad nearly falls asleep in his salad. Eventually, they make their way up to Caleb’s room to talk. To gauge their footing, and what he wants to do next.

For ten full minutes, Caleb passes over the room, taking time to examine it ceiling to floor for any manner of device or trap or something that should not be there. Behind him paces Caduceus, eyes gleaming with the familiar sheen of detect magic. They both turn up nothing.

Caleb sits and scratches at his arms and worries.

‘So,’ Fjord starts them off. ‘Big day, huh. I guess... Welcome back, Yasha.’ Fjord waves a hand toward her, or them, Molly still stuck to her side. Held tight in a hug.

‘Thank you. And... I’m sorry.’

‘I’ll take that apology,’ an unfamiliar voice says—harsh, and harshly amused—from behind them, from the window. Spinnjng, the Nein find that standing there, leaning back with her elbows braced against the sill, aggravatingly nonchalant, is the girl from the throne room. She looks a different without the robe. Smaller, thinner, and all in black and darker blues and greys, but it is unmistakably her.

In their room. Unheard. Unseen.

In the next second, Fjord has crossed the room, conjuring his blade and grasping the long hilt in both hands, pointed to her throat. Yasha has drawn the Judge. A burning of copper fills the room as Molly draws his blade across the skin of his forearm, scimitar lighting with white flame. Nott pulls her crossbow, the wire click, click, clicking as she wrenches it into the ready position.

Caleb just stares.

And Jester, she raises her hands, not sure exactly what she’s going to do when she’s exhausted like this. But if worst comes to worst, she has a hand axe.

‘Planning on killing the Martinet’s auxiliary, are we? Fun times in the Kamaruth Cottage. Didn’t know it was such a fun scene—’

Fjord presses his sword closer until it touches the skin of her throat. Still she just grins, unphased.

‘I don’t know what you think you overheard, but we have no plans on killing anyone,’

‘Maybe Trent,’ Molly hissés behind them all in Infernal.

‘Who doesn’t want to kill Trent?’ the girl answers in common. Ignoring Molly’s shock, she continues, very slowly, very patiently, very patronisingly, ‘The Martinet’s auxiliary is me. In case you didn’t know.’

‘Important position, is it? You’ll be missed, is that what you’re saying?’

‘Not really. To both. Just...letting you know because, and I’m gonna be honest—you seem well out of your fucking depth here.’

‘I don’t like this one,’ Molly decrees, opening in Common, since it seems she can understand his preferred language of disparagement. ‘Not one bit.’

‘I’m heartbroken,’ the girl sneers.

‘What you are is the one at sword point—and I know wizards. We’ve had time to rest now—we could take you.’ Jester winces at Fjord’s tone. Protective, he has gone harsh, gone with a face of stone to cover his shock, to cover their slip in letting her join them unnoticed.

‘This must be real hard for you but I’m gonna need you to use your head. For think-ing.’ She breaks the word apart like it might be too big for him, unfamiliar. ‘Even if you did beat me,’ she says, words drenched in disbelief, ‘there’s a whole city to get out of after that, all riled up after that attack. Whether I’m well-liked or not,’

‘Not.’

‘Missed or not,’ she amends with a shrug, ‘there’d be some real powerful people after your head if you killed me. So. Be smart about this and put. The sword. Away.’

For maybe the first time in his life, Fjord snarls, baring tooth and tusk.

She grins. ‘Is that a no?’

‘It’s a give me one good reason why we should trust you.’

It’s just a gut feeling but Jester doesn’t think that she will.

She watches as the girl tilts her head back almost lazily, before bringing it forward to crack into Fjord’s nose, his forehead. Fjord gets out a stuttering choke and as he stands there stunned, she ducks the sword and slips behind him, punches up the ladder of his spine. Fjord wheezes, breath punched out of him, and staggers around to face her.

By this point, Nott is screaming bloody murder, Caleb’s hand is wreathed in flame, Yasha has the Judge raised in both hands, Molly has both swords lit up, and the girl, Beauregard, is just standing there with her arm around a stunned Fjord and grinning.

‘As much as I’d honestly be stoked to go toe to toe with all of you—‘specially you, sweetheart,’ she says, throwing a wink and a kiss to Jester. Her eyes slide over to Yasha and her smile, somewhat salacious, turns harsh. ‘And you, Orphanmaker,’

Her eyes go black with blood as Molly barks something in guttural Infernal. Unlike so many that they’ve fought, she doesn’t panic. She settles back into a defensive posture, letting Fjord step away and out of reach; head cocked to listen to them, she waits out the sudden blindness, blinks the film of blood away.

Her eyes find Molly. Looks at the bleeding scars, the glowing blades, his harsh, panting breath. The way he stands in front of Yasha.

‘Now that is very interesting,’

‘Forgive us,’ Caleb says, finally says, his hand still wreathed in flames, blue eyes fixed on their guest, ‘but perhaps you will stop cataloguing us for just a moment, bitte, and tell us who you are. Because I do not think for one moment that you are the Martinet’s auxiliary.’

‘What do you think I am?’

‘A monk,’ Caleb says flatly.

‘I see I’ve found the brains of the operation. Bren, was it?’

‘It’s Caleb,’ Nott shrieks. She’s been holding her crossbow the entire time and now swings it up to let loose. A bolt pings from her crossbow, and the monk catches it, hisses when the tip scratches her arm. She looks from it to Nott. Waggles the bolt at her with a scowl.

‘Next time, I throw it back,’ she warns. Tucks It into the soft sash of her belt. ‘I’m keeping this.’

‘It’s Caleb,’ Nott says again.

She glances up from Nott to the man she is protecting—no other way to describe the way she stands in front of him, small body straining to cover as much of him as possible—and she nods.

‘Okay. Caleb, then. Good to know, I’ll make a note of that.’

‘I’m certain that you will,’ Caleb says with a hint of laughter to his tone. Resigned laughter, tired, but laughter none the less. ‘You know our names—you probably know far more than that, if I am to understand what it is the Cobalt Soul does.’

Beauregard nods, shrugs.

They stand in silence for a short while. Until she looks about, brows raised like, And? What?

‘He’s asking what your fucking name is,’ Fjord grits out from his place next to Caduceus.

‘You’re not still mad, are you?’

‘I think you broke my nose.’

‘I definitely did,’

‘Beauregard,’ Jesterer blurts. ‘That’s what the Martinet called you.’

Beauregard looks surprised, then pleased, then annoyed. ‘Yeah, he does. But you lot shouldn’t. It’s just Beau.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Beauregard is a stupid fucking name and if you use it, I’ll punch your face in.’

‘...Got a last name?’

‘Do you?’ Fjord looks away first.

‘Why does the Martinet call you that if you hate it so much?’

Beau smiles. It’s a bit macabre with the stream of dried blood like a tear track down her cheeks. ‘Poor Ludinus. He really hasn’t much luck in the assistant department. His annex is a fucking cultist, and his auxiliary is a spy. Once again—because you seem a bit slow—I am the auxiliary.’

‘You’re a spy.’

‘Hey, not so slow after all. Good job. I’ll find you a sticker or something, a little pin that says well done.’

‘Fuck. Off.’

‘I do not understand,’

‘Pretty simple, Caleb my man, I’m the auxiliary and I’m a spy-‘

‘Ja, that I understand. What I don’t understand is why you are telling us this.’

Beau’s eyes slide across to Yasha again. ‘Let’s just day that I’m not the only one who noticed you’re out of your depth. Some people really dig that kind of thing. Vulnerability. Innocence. Guilt. Whatever they can manipulate.’ Caleb’s cheek twitches. ‘I’d like to say the Archives is above all that shit.’ She doesn’t elaborate. Just says, ‘The High Curstor pulled my from Ludinus watch, re-assigned me to you lot. I’m supposed to help you with this whole relic thing.’

‘And why would we agree to that?’

‘Couple reasons. One, you’re out of your depth,’

‘Yes, we got that one,’ Fjord grumbles

‘Two, I have access to the entirety of the Soul’s archive of research. Three, I’m a monk, I’m badass, I have like a billion abs.’

‘How is that a bargaining chip?’

‘How is it not?’ She hikes her shirt up to show them off.

Jester blinks. Comes around from behind the bed to examine them up close. And maybe to add an extra level of defense between Beau and Yasha.

‘Whoa,’

‘No! No whoa, Jester,’

‘I mean, you have to admit, Fjord, that’s really impressive. You should be very proud,’ Jester tells her, nodding.

‘Thank you, thank you, I am.’

‘There is no doubt in my mind you would be a helpful ally,’ Caleb says. ‘I only have a question as to what you, or your Archive, gets out of this arrangement. Forgive me, but I have not known people here to do things out of the kindness of their heart.’

Beau lets her shirt and her smile drop. ‘You’re not wrong. The Soul gets two things outta this—one, we love to fuck with the Assembly. The more dirt we can get on them, the better we feel—and everything I’ve heard about this relic and Ikithon—‘ There’s no way she misses Caleb’s flinch. ‘—smacks of some real fucked up shit. The Soul is all about weeding that out, putting a stop to corruption and all that.’

‘What a fine job it has done so far,’ Caleb murmurs, barely more than a whisper.

‘You said you get two things. What is the second?’ That, of all people, is Yasha.

Beau meets her multi-coloured eyes squarely. ‘The Cobalt Soul gets you.’

[unfortunatelysirius]

Wherever You Go, I Go | JON SNOW

「 ❁ ���PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

Jon is leaving for beyond the Wall, but you have something he needs to hear before he goes.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

in the next few days (maybe even after this idk) i’m probably going to write a “being queen in the north” headcanon so be on the look out :) REMEMBER TO REQUEST!

        IT HAD TAKEN A LONG JOURNEY TO GET HERE.

        That’s what Jon kept telling himself as he saddled for the long road ahead. That’s what he came to think when he reached the Wall. That’s what he’d stay reassuring himself in the long nights ahead. He was a kinslayer, a queenslayer, an oathbreaker. He’d committed regicide on more than one occasion. No one would ever forget his actions or forgive them, much less he who’d committed the crimes. He was leaving for beyond the Wall to start a life that wasn’t much different from the life he once thought he’d live forever. He was leaving a lot of things behind. His family had kept their honor. They would never think of himself who enacted justice. He was no better than the late Jaime Lannister. Jaime, who saved an entire kingdom when his king’s back was turned.

        Jon had stabbed Daenerys in the back, too.

        Tormund was standing on the castle walls and asserting Jon his sympathy through the eyes when he arrived.

        You were right beside him.

        Jon couldn’t deny his shock. He was sure it showed on his face. His horse continued on through the gates, unsettled, but its rider blinked, unsure of himself. You weren’t supposed to be there.

        When Jon entered the destroyed courtyard, he quickly got off his horse. You were already coming down with Tormund following slowly behind. Jon had seen excitement on your face from standing guard on the walls, but it became more apparent the closer you came to him. You weren’t running but your pace was far brisker than it’d be walking.

        You grinned at him.

       “Jon!” you called, jumping into his waiting arms. His arms encircled your waist and he drew you into a warm embrace you both had been denied for so long..

        Jon hadn’t seen you since he was first imprisoned. He thought you’d gone home to Winterfell—where you were once a handmaiden to Sansa— yet you were here instead. He couldn’t deny that he was relieved and over the moon with ecstasy that you’d come to see him off. If he’d left without seeing you first, he might have spent the rest of his years in exile wistful. Getting to see you promised his thoughts to be happy if he ever caught himself stuck in past memories, thinking about everything that led him to be the man he was today. “Y/N,” he said, burying his nose into your hair.

        You pulled back when he didn’t say anything else, giving him your most furious glare. “I can’t believe you,” you said, swatting at him. Jon dawned garb of the Night’s Watch so what your hand met was leathery and black, a texture that made you visibly wince. “You left without saying goodbye! I understand that it was protection against anyone dumb enough to try killing you, but I’m sure they would have let you talk to me first.”

        Jon’s solemn face fell into a frown. “I thought you’d left the capital?”

        You rolled your eyes. “I was waiting for you.”

        “What—wait for me?” Jon’s frown deepened. He held you at arm’s length, trying in vain to read your face. You’d always been a commodity. Cryptic, playful, and optimistic where you should have been thinking the worst. You were his polar.

You and Jon had a long history, a history that consisted of more goodbyes than it did hellos. Though Jon wished that cycle would end today, he knew you’d only come to give him his final farewell. Strangely to Jon, you sounded like you came to do the opposite which was not at all plausible to him.

A hurt look came across your face and you tightened your grip on his waist. “Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to come with you?” Your voice turned shrill.

        Jon shook his head. “Y/N, life beyond the Wall isn’t a life I want for you—”

        “Winterfell isn’t home, Jon,” you said. You prodded at his chest where his heart was located. “You’re home. We never got much time to be happy. I thought we were going to get an unhappy ending when you kept getting hurt and were driven further away from me. There was a time when I truly did think we wouldn’t meet again. When I thought you died, there was a hole in my chest that would never heal. You’re here now, beautiful and alive. How could you want to leave me now? Do you not want me anymore?”

        Jon pressed his lips roughly to yours before replying. His expression was more rigid than a stone gate, drawing you closer until he was close enough to see every possible speck of color in your Y/E/C eyes. “You know I do, Y/N. I just want you to be happy and I don’t know if you can be happy with me,” he said to you.

        Your hands reached up to brush against the hair on his neck. “I’ll be miserable without you,” you said firmly. “Wherever you go, I go too. Whatever happens, I will always stick by you. Even if your cock goes limp and stays that way forever.”

        Jon chuckled, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Really?”

        You nodded determinedly. “I love you. I will always love you. No matter how far apart we are or what happens to us. Let me come with you.”

        Jon stared at you, processing your words. He loved you too, loved you more than he loved anything else in his life. He thought he’d lost your love and respect when he killed Daenerys, yet you were here and anything but deterred. Did he want you living a life of exile with him? No, not at all. He wanted you to find some honorable princeling and have happy children and live in luxury, not under the stars cold and lonely. But you were just like him in that sense. Stubborn to a fault.

        He didn’t have to think anymore. He knew. He kissed you to make sure you knew. He knew he’d hate himself for not sending you back to Winterfell, that he’d regret sentencing you to the same remote, lonesome fate he bore--but in that moment, all he wanted was you in his arms forever.

        “Okay.”

[ethelphantom]

Upon These Snowy Days

So I know the prompt fill for today was supposed to be about snow, but it’s now way more about these two adorable idiots being in love and domestic. Oh well. I hope you enjoy though. 

Ao3

This is Maribat, so don’t like; don’t read.

____

“Good morning, love. I made cupcakes and I want you to test them.”

Marinette groaned, burying her face into her pillow. She really didn’t want to wake up and she most definitely didn’t want to get out of her warm bed, but she didn’t want to disappoint Damian. That was just about the only reason she let Damian pull her out of bed and help her sit on the edge of the bed as he pulled a sweater he found on the chair next to him over her pajama top.

After taking her hand in his, he led her to the dining room and seated her on a chair. There was already breakfast in front of her, and Marinette could see cupcakes on the tabletop behind her from the corner of her eye.

“You look like death.”

“I feel like death, Dami.”

“How late did you go to sleep?”

Marinette thought about it for a second before she tilted her head and shot him a sheepish grin. “I think… I think it was around four in the morning?” she said, biting her fingernail before she realised she had nail polish and she didn’t want to ruin it nor did she want to find pieces of dried nail polish in her mouth. Marinette pulled her fingers out and sat on her hands as to not put them back again right away.

“And for what were you up so long?”

“I was making this sweater.”

She pointed at the sweater Damian had forced on her and shrugged, though her movements were still sluggish. It wasn’t surprising, she was still not fully awake or alert. Maybe she could be forgiven her morning sleepiness this once.

Damian sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Marinette, habibti, you really need to sleep more. This is starting to get very unhealthy. I’m worried about you.”

“But—”

“Regardless, you look really cute in that sweater. I still don’t approve of your horrible sleeping habits, but I have to admit you are adorable.”

Mari smiled as light blush appeared on her cheeks. She chuckled and bit her lip, soon finding a small piece of the thin skin of her lip in her mouth along with a hint of blood. She really ought to stop doing this and start using lip balm. Should she tell him what inspired her to create it? Or should she just keep her mouth shut and let him hopefully figure it out himself one day?

Meh, she was going to tell him. He’d gotten her to flush red to the tips of her ears, it was her turn to return the favour. “You know, you’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly,” she said and fiddled with the hem of her sweater. It wasn’t all that obvious it was inspired by him (or rather, the fifth Robin, but that was Damian and he was proud of it so it didn't matter), but that had been her purpose. She wanted to do something different for a change.

It was mostly blood red, but the edges of the hem were pastel yellow while the collar was black. The over sized, wide sleeves were also black with a touch of emerald green, The pastel yellow sash around the waist hanging down at the front completed the look. Marinette absolutely loved it and was planning to use it more as soon as she got the chance, but she was glad Damian got to see it first. That said, she was most definitely going to wear it for dinner in the Manor the following week. If only she remembered to do her makeup and put on green eyeshadow she would be satisfied.

“Wait. You made a sweater inspired by me? Oh habibti, you’re wonderful, you know that, right?”

He made her turn around before pressed a soft kiss on her lips. Marinette smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Of course I made one inspired by you, mon cœur. You and your endless love are my greatest source of inspiration,” she murmured against his lips before kissing him again. Marinette loved how warm his love was, especially how warm his lips were.

It took them a while before they remembered the breakfast that was turning cold on the table. Damian let Marinette sit back down and then walked around the table to his own seat. He’d made them a combination of Arabian and French breakfast along with, judging by the citrus smell, her favourite tea, which was both lovely and absolutely terrifying.

Lovely, because Marinette loved both and she was hungry.

Terrifying, because there was just so much food and she wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to eat all of this together.

Well, at least it was more filling than her usual breakfast of brioche or croissants with jam and juice.

It had taken her a long time before she could start properly appreciate hummus and fool, and even falafel had been something she rather avoided if possible. Now? She could’ve almost lived on them alone. Almost.  

After Marinette finally finished her plateful (it only took her 39 minutes, you couldn’t blame her for being tired and wanting to talk to her beloved), Damian set a trail of cupcakes in front of her.

“They’re not all for you, but I did make them specifically thinking about you”, he said and picked one for himself. Marinette could only stare at them (and her love) in awe before a quiet, excited whisper escaped her lips.

“You made these cupcakes for me?”

They were Ladybug cupcakes.

“Yes. And you know what that means?”

“Hmh?”

“Do you remember what you told me around a month ago?”

Marinette shook her head but as Damian didn’t elaborate, she tried to find something from the depths of her memory that could explain this.

“You know, when the first snow falls, it’d be great to be woken up to breakfast”, she’d told Damian as she leant against him, looking up at the starry night sky. “And maybe you could try to bake cupcakes. You’ve never made those, right?”

She whipped her head around to look outside through the window, and as she guessed, it was snowing. The ground had a beautiful white cover, and even though it was still thin, she loved it. Then she turned to look at Damian and just melted right then and there. “You remembered”, she gasped and tried to push back her tears of happiness, mostly succeeding. Her voice cracked though but she was fine with that. As long as she made sure he knew she was touched and happy.

She loved this man so much.

“Of course I remembered it. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“Still wonderful. You make me so happy.”

And he did. Marinette was never going to let go of him if she had any say in it.

And, for years to come, each first snow Damian made her a meal (if not breakfast, then lunch or dinner) and cupcakes, and each first snow Marinette fell more in love with him than before.

Despite all that had happened before they met, and despite her thinking things were never going to get better once upon a time, her life had turned out to be wonderful.

(Because idk how to describe things and also I needed it to be able to describe anything in the first place. You’re welcome. The pink-ish thing under the sweater is her pajama top.)

@ladysblackcat​ @daminett4life​ @tinyterror333​ @annabellabrookes​ @7-sage-7​ @theyellowfeverexperience​ @thethirdwheelfriend​ @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @kris-pines04​ @daminette-december2019​ @bluerosette23​

[darknessisafriend]

Your savior

Tag list: @help-i-am-obssessed @the-ineffable-dreamer 

Request from @sirianfromsixties

Prompt: Hi Would you do a Joker x Reader like : it was late night in Gotham and the reader was walking alone when 3 men started to harass her and punch her till,while she's on the floor all hurt and In pain,someone came and shoot the 3 men,then take her senseless to his "home" to take care of her?(it's the joker obv) Then idk,like,when she wakes up she's scared but then only thankfull and turned on by him and things happens?And this is becoming smuth  

NSFW 

Here it is ! I’m really happy to share this with you people, hope you’ll like it <3

You were tired, your day at work got longer than expected and you had to work on extra material until 9pm. To make things worse you lived around 45 min away from work, the subway was fine, a lot of people were taking this line to go out, it made you feel safe. Cities and especially Gotham were dangerous places for women, even more if you’re alone outside after 8 in the evening. Now what worried you the most was this 15 minutes’ walk from the subway to your flat; the neighborhood wasn’t bad in itself but there was couple of bars nearby and drunk people could really become annoying and creepy; you stopped counting how many times you had to speed your pace because of some guys calling you and even following you.

You exited the subway stop, it was getting quite cold, after all it was October. You tighten your coat around your body and walked to your flat; the way was pretty simple, you kept walking on the main street then at the crossing turn left, until you reach the adjacent street where was your flat. Even if the city made you nervous, you enjoyed the night, the few stars you could see mixed with the lights of the skyscrapers was beautiful. 

“Hi…” lost in your thoughts you startled at hearing someone calling you. You quickly glanced in their direction, there was 3 guys sitting on the steps of a building, a couple of bottles around them. ‘And here we go’ you thought starting to be nervous.

You decided to continue walking, hopefully they will leave it at that.

“Hey Miss! C’mon don’t be afraid, we just wanna talk to you!” another insisted. You continued to walk pretending not to hear them, your heartbeat increasing. You heard footsteps behind you ‘shit! Please stop!’ you wished, you started to increase your pace. Until you felt your arm being yanked back.

“Don’t you fuckin’ ignore me!” badgered the man holding your arm.

“Yeah he’s being nice to you and you act like a brat…” chided the third one. You tried to snatch your arm out of his grip.

“I’m not interested, just let me go.” You replied trying to hide the fear in your voice.

“What you think I’m not good enough for you?!

“I didn’t say…” a heavy slap across your cheek cut you off, you can feel your cheek burning, the shock makes your eyes wet. You struggled trying to free yourself from his claws and run away. But the 2 other men joined him gripping you by your coat, shoulders, pushing towards a dark alley.

“HELP!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs ‘please somebody hear me!’, you received another hit, this time a fist met your jaw, sending you to the ground, you tried to crawl away from them, but despite the alcohol they were faster than you, gripping your hair tightly.

“We’re gonna teach you good manners hussy!” one of them growled, kicking you in your belly, you curved into a ball trying to protect yourself, and they continued to punch you over and over again until you couldn’t feel the pain anymore, but only the pounding in your head and warm drops of blood dripping from various areas of your face.

“Hey, hold her, might as well take some good time with her” tempted one as he started to take off his belt ‘please not this’

A loud bang like a gunshot resonated around you “What the…!” screamed one the man, before another gunshot happened, then a third one. You wanted to move, get away but your body was becoming weaker and weaker, in fact your survival instinct was trying to keep you conscious but the hits you took had hurt you badly. The last thing you remember was a laugh, a hearty laugh, your eyelids closed, you vision becoming blurry, a red spot coming closer to you…

 Several hours later

 Your head was pounding, painful, your eyelids heavy. You didn’t want to move, you just felt exhausted, like any ounce of energy you had, had left your body. Whatever was surrounding you was soft…and warm. Where were you? You wondered. Suddenly everything that had happened to you surged back to your mind, their beating, your cries for help, the gunshots. Your eyes shot open. Your eyes quickly wandering around the room where you were. There was barely enough light for you to distinguish anything, there was a large window giving a view of the city, it was still the night?

There wasn’t much in the room, apart from the bed you were in; there was desk with a mirror, an ashtray, the smell of cigarette was very present and there was also tubes and pallets of paint or makeup maybe. The door was closed but you could see light peak through the cracks of the door.

As if your body was only starting to wake up, you started to feel pain, in your belly, your arms and you realized that they were full of purple bruises. You winced, which in return made your head hurt, you slowly brought your fingers to touch your face, you could feel your left eyebrow being swollen, a cut crossing it. You felt dry blood around your nostrils, and another cut at your lower lip.  You felt tears prickling in your eyes, remembering the scene once again.

But you were okay now…who had saved you? In any case, you had to thank them, who knows if you’d still be alive if this mysterious savior hadn’t pulled the trigger. Cause yeah, you weren’t stupid, you remembered the gunshots and honestly you didn’t care, these assholes only got what they deserved. You wanted to thank to person who saved you.

Still, feeling cautious, you got out of bed as slowly as you could, realizing at the same time that you were only wearing your panties and undershirt, you guessed your clothes were probably full of blood and filth from the streets.  You tip toed to the door, looking through the key hole, trying to spot somebody but nothing. Your hand slowly reached for the doorknob, twisting it as slowly as you could. You arrived in a much bigger room, with sofas, tables and many chairs, looked like a meeting room.

“You should be staying in bed…” you jumped at the masculine voice behind you. You took a deep breath ‘come on this person saved you, there’s nothing to fear!’ you told yourself as you pivoted to face your savior. You weren’t expecting to come face to face with the Joker. You were kind of frozen, at his sight, his eyes were intensely looking at you, he brought his cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. You took a few steps back, your back meeting the sofa. So that explain the laugh you heard and the red you saw. You were confused, he’s supposed to be a crazy criminal regardless that he was right to speak out about the state of Gotham…why save you? He didn’t say a word, probably curious of what you’d do next. He didn’t look like he had bad intentions towards you. You caught yourslef wondering what he looked like without his makeup on but now that you had him right in front of you, he wasn’t as frightening as the media presented him, he looked quite elegant actually with his 3-piece suit, his green hair perfectly slicked back, his makeup neatly applied. You realized that he had beautiful eyes, their color going from green to an icy blue, quite captivating actually…then you became aware that you might have been starring at him for too long.

“Thank you…” you started embarrassed, lowering your eyes. He chuckled, you couldn’t help but be on your guard, to wake up at a criminal’s home after being assaulted by other criminals wasn’t a common thing…did he plan on keeping you here? This idea suddenly appeared, you started to be anxious again, quickly brushing a strand of hair behind you ear, this was the Joker there’s no way to escape him!

The clown must have sensed your sudden panic, so he walk to what you assumed to be the entrance door, and he opened it.

“You free to go but you should stay, you took a pretty bad beating, you’re still weak.” He advised, taking another drag of his cigarette. Shit, you were being stupid, if he wanted to hurt you, considering your outfit at the moment, he would have already done it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…be rude…” you stuttered. You heard him closing the door, but as the adrenaline came down, you started to feel dizzy, loosing your balance. Thankfully he was quickly by your side, holding you steady, his hands felt warm against your skin.

“You’re freezing cold, let’s go back to bed” he directed, holding you against his side, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other gently stroking your forearm.  You sat on the mattress, he did the same, putting a cover over your body. It was nice to have someone taking care of you after what you’ve been through, to be comforted. Another feeling rose in your chest, your eyes becoming wet, your lower lip trembling, you didn’t want to cry but it became stronger until you couldn’t hold it anymore, tears running down on your face, your breathing erratic.

“Shhshhshh come here kitten…” he took you into his embrace, your arms wrapped around his waist beneath his vest. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and cried for several minutes. He continued to hold you, one hand stroking your back and the other caressing your hair, it soothed you, and even when you had finished crying you stayed buried in his embrace enjoying the warmth, listening to his calm heartbeat, you could smell that he was wearing Cologne. You nuzzled your nose against the skin of his neck, you wanted to be closer to him, you didn’t want to feel the hands of those assholes on you anymore, you felt soiled. And you found the Joker quite handsome, charismatic, magnetic, and he has been so gentle with you…

You brushed your lips against his skin, he chuckled.

“Now, aren’t you being a tease?” he asked, you could tell he was smiling. You looked up meeting his eyes, he was intrigued, but you could also tell that he was attracted to you, his pupils were slightly dilated starring at your lips, his hand never leaving your body since he first touched you. So you leaned in, kissing his lips; his hand instantly went to your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek, his tongue came teasing your lips, so you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting his, it tasted good, addictive, a soft mix of alcohol and tobacco. The kiss became more intense, needy, you slipped on of your hands in the back of his pants trying to find more skin to feel. A moan escaped his lips, as he separated from you, panting.

“You don’t want to do this kitten…” he breathed, a mischievous glow in his eyes, a grin on his lips. You slightly frowned at this “Why?” you exclaimed, your other hand cupping his cheek, he leaned into his warmth, your thumb brushed against his lips, making him close his eyes like he was restraining himself.

“Because I won’t stop, not until I take you and make you fully mine…” he growled, reopening his eyes that were now dark with desire. Your heart skipped a beat at this confession.

“Then take me.” You purred; he didn’t need to hear more and crashed his lips against yours, slightly making your open lip bleed and making you tumble on your back on the bed, he placed himself between your legs, tracing kisses along your jaw, then your neck, his tongue tickling your skin, sucking and nibbling the most sensitive spots. You buried your fingers in his green locks, closing your eyes to enjoy even more the pleasure he was giving you, you’ve always had a very sensitive neck. You could already feel him hard against your leg. Your other traveled to his collarbone under his shirt, his skin was burning hot.  He straightened, throwing his vest on the floor and unbuttoning his shirt, you watched him reveal his torso, he was thin still you could see he was muscular, he had nice biceps… You also took off your undershirt, then your bra, revealing your breast, your nipples hard. He seemed frozen.

“Damn kitten…you’re so gorgeous.” He said hungrily, pushing you back on the mattress, eagerly sucking your nipples sometimes biting them, making you gasp.  Then his kisses went lower until they reach your panties. He kisses you above the fabric, teasing, you can’t help but arch your body for more. Then, with his teeth he grabs top of your panties, slowly making it slide down, you lift your hips to make it easier, he uses his right hand to yank it away. He groans as he grabs your thighs and starts to eat you out, circling around your clit, licking your labia. You’re panting, you want to feel him inside of you, you let out a needy moan.

He chuckles against your soft spot “you like that kitten?” he asks you as he came back to your mouth with a feline grin. You hungrily kiss him while your hand slides down his lower belly, then beneath his pants and underwear, you stroke his cock, gently slowly at first making him longingly moan.

“Fuck…that’s good” he swooned against your lips. He was being so sensitive to your care that it made it difficult for him to do anything, even kiss, your smirked at this.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore and unzipped his pants to let his erection out. You felt his cock at your wet entrance. Slowly he entered you, you released a shaky breath when you felt him inside of you. His thrusts quickly became more forceful, his forehead against yours, his tongue devouring your mouth. You gripped his shoulders bringing him closer to you, feeling his torso brushing against your breast. He was being so caring and passionate in this moment, making sure you liked it, that he was bringing you pleasure. His thrusts became deeper and quicker making your eyes roll back. You felt yourself coming closer and closer and Joker was too, his groan becoming louder and louder. You cried at out as you came, an electrifying pleasure spreading across your body, he quickly followed you in a long moan. He was out of breath, his whole body shaking, you kissed him one more time as he slowly lied down on your body his head buried in your neck.

“You’ll never have to be alone again…I’ll protect you…” he whispers in your ear as you fell asleep, feeling safe as ever in the arms of the greatest criminal of Gotham.    

[blxckdamask]

Trashcan’s Fic Rec: July ‘19

i know this is really late but i was busy so i couldnt really get this done. an yway,,, yall know the drill by now,, this has a bunch of bnha (mostly bkdk) and some rairpairs aswell as some drarry, odaat and b99.

BNHA Fics:

{bakudeku}

Roadmap of Our Lives by erza_mikazuki | 4k | 1/1| nsfw | emotional sex | body worship | scars | fluffy smut is my shit ngl

When Izuku's insecurities about his scarred body hit him full throttle, Katsuki is there to show Izuku just how beautiful scars can be.

4 AM Inquiry by SecretKiwi | 3k | 1/1 | established relationship | marriage proposal | fluff | this fic is how im tryna be 

Katsuki's reflection above the sink stared back. Eyes still drowsy with a hint of a shadow beneath them. Hair more of a mess than he would prefer, but he was plenty awake now.

All because of Deku.

~

Katsuki reflects at 4 am.

Happy Pride by PrinceTriscuit | 2k | 1/1 | getting together | gay fluff | coming out | wholesome 

Pride has always had a special place in Midoriya Izuku's heart.

Love For a Friend by Jessica14 | 2k | 1/1 | magic au | ghost izuku | protective bakugou | angst with a happy ending | idk how to summarize the tags just read it its so fucking good

"I trusted you and you had me murdered!” Midoriya wailed, anguished. Bakugou twitched focusing on the spell that made him capture Midoriya's soul.

“Shut up! You got yourself killed!”

“I didn't! You said you had my back and I thought you had it! But you didn't! Kacchan! My body!” Midoriya cried as he watched Bakugou lug his limp body through the forest.

This is what happens when Bakugou tries to become best friends with Midoriya again.

Say It Again by bkdkwritingsdump | 2k | 1/1 | angst | quirk mishap | angry izuku | established relationship | guilty bakugou 

Katsuki doesn't know what's wrong with Izuku. Is he mad? What is he mad about? What did Katsuki do!? All he knows is that he can't let Izuku break up with him. Not while they're still keeping their relationship a secret.

Or

Izuku forces Katsuki to apologize for everything he's ever done to hurt him.

Best Friends by artindistress | 13k | 2/2 | fem!deku | best friends au | getting together | minor izuchako | fluff | friends to lovers | this shit is so fluffy im in love

Bakugou and Midoriya have been best friends since... well, since either of them could remember. But both harbor unspoken feelings for the other, will this be an end to their friendship?

Foster-Mates by bkdkwritingsdump | 32k | 15/15 | hybrids au | cat!katsuki & dog!izuku | getting together | tw past abuse | tw self harm | angst | angst with a happy ending | eventual nsfw 

Izuku, a dog hybrid, has lived with his owner Toshinori, a retired hybrid psychologist, his whole life. He takes on some of the shelter’s most difficult cases as fosters, and so Izuku has learned to be the best foster-mate possible for scared and abused hybrids. At first, Katsuki, a cat hybrid who’s been kept in a tiny apartment nearly his whole life, seems just like any of the other awful cases they’ve seen, but somehow, Izuku and him grow a lot closer than usual over the course of his stay. Eventually, the question becomes: could he stay forever?

bellflowers by vannral | 15k | 4/4 | hanahaki disease au | getting together angst | angst with a happy ending | unrequited love (kinda) | eventual fluff

“Izuku knows what the Hanahaki does. He knows what his options are, and sure, they aren’t great. In fact, they’re pretty horrible. The list is short and daunting. There are still flower petals on his pillow."

In which Izuku has Hanahaki Disease, and Katsuki's furious.

TFW Your Roommate Brings a Baby Home by Hotshott (Artemystic) | 5k | 1/1 | friends to lovers | fluffy fluff | baby used as a plot device | this is just pure fluff guys its great 

And you're crushing on him, and he's just so cute, and the baby's cute, and what's a guy to do, anyway?

family dinners by luciimariiellii | 1k | 1/1 | family fluff | friends to lovers | pining for days | this is so cute i love 

Ever since they were little, Izuku and Katsuki’s families have had family dinners. It’s just them and their parents, and that’s fine. Until more people get dragged in. (And try to set Izuku and Katsuki up.)

for twinstars week day four - family

{todobaku}

cold, hot and so damn soft by orphan_account | 7k | 1/1 | established relationship | light angst | fluff | romance 

It started from a normal evening to a small argument that made them go on vacation that made Katsuki realize that he wanted something more from Shouto.

The Shitty Parents Squad (series) by YinYangZodiac | 8 works | 15k | tw child abuse | tw domestic abuse | caring characters | ooc kinda | this is very soft but very sad and im so in love with this series 

Bakugou, Denki, Midoriya, Momo and Todoroki all end up in a McDonald's one early morning. A suggestion of a movie and a credit card reveal later and the teens are off to spend the day together.

They all know that it's Todoroki's father's credit card, but none of them care.

Eyes Aren't Always Windows To The Soul by Alienqueen42, TheLibrarian9 | 1k | 1/1 | deaf!bakugou & blind!todoroki | emotional hurt/comfort | heavy angst | light fluff | getting together 

Bakugo and Todoroki both find themselves living together with disabilities, helping each other get by. In doing so, they fall in love.

{rairpairs & other ships} 

staring into our bright future by wonduhhwoman | kacchako | 9k | 1/1 | quirk mishap | future and present uraraka swap bodies | established relationship | developing relationship | fluff 

“You haven’t changed at all, have ya?” he observed, pinching her cheek affectionately.

Ochako batted his hand away from her cheeks for the second time that morning, wondering if he had a thing for them. “That doesn’t even make any sense, Bakugou. I’m from the past. Of course I haven’t changed.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Bakugou countered, closing his teeth around a bite of eggs. “You were doing this same shit yesterday morning.”

-

My entry for the day 2 prompt of Kacchako week: otherworldly.

Five Times his Service Dog helps Shinsou and One Time Bakugou does by SupaKawaiiDesu | bakushin | 7k |1/1 | tw panic attacks and disorders | hoh!bakugou | fluff | college au | strangers to friends to lovers | fluff | light angst | fluffy shit we fuckin stan this rairpair

Bakugou watches with something akin to affection when Shinsou starts playing with his dog until she jumps all around him and is barking excitedly. He has never seen the both of them so content before. The Sergeant is always so concentrated at College grounds, either that or she’s calm but still looking out for him. Bakugou has seen them during lectures, at lunch at their usual table, during their ways to Bakugou’s dorm and to Shinsou’s apartment off campus, he has seen them through their late-night-skyping sessions and in countless pictures on Sergeant Barkowitz’ Instagram. He has seen their best but not their worst, and that makes Bakugou wonder if he’ll ever be such a great companion to Shinsou like the Sergeant is.

A Hero's Goodbye by Gentle_Love_9 | erasermic | 1k | 1/1 | death fic | major angst | somehow fluffy as well?? | bitches i cried so fuckin hard when i read this omf

"Shouta could have never imagined reaching this point in his life. He honestly expected to die at some point when he was younger, alone somewhere in an alleyway, killed in action during his hero work maybe."

Instead he's in a warm hospital bed and surrounded by some of the people he cares most about.

On These Unsteady Legs by Spider_Lilly | erasermic | 4k | 1/1 | shinsou and eri centric | hurt/comfort | angst with a happy ending

Shinsou Hitoshi had never had a family before, and he refuses to screw it up. But when a villain attacks him and his new little sister, he may have lost the only family he's ever had.

We love and respect Bakugou in this house (series)  by Bakudont_be_weird | bakudabi | 5 works | 54k | tw rape/non-con | abo | alpha!dabi & omega!bakugou | very nsfw | stockholm syndrome | mpreg | fucked up fluff | angst with somewhat of a happy ending ig | ngl this ship is suppose to be fucked up and problematic but this series is really fucking good if you're into fucked up fics

Bakugou never wanted to be mated. Especially not to a villain but it didn't look like he had any choice in the matter. The only question now was: will he ever escape?

OR,

The author loves Bakugou and loves to make him suffer so Dabi kidnaps him and forces our favourite blasty boy to become his mate. It goes from bad to good to bad and back to good.

Days in a Crucible by doop_doop | bakuiida | 40k | 9/9 | kidnapping | emotional hurt/comfort | getting together | developing relationship | acquaintances to lovers | mentions of past todobaku | ptsd

While working together as pro heroes, Iida, Bakugou and Todoroki are taken captive. The situation is strange: none of their Quirks work, and they aren’t tortured or killed – in fact, they never see their captors. There is nothing to do but wait.

Things are tense between the three of them, but Iida finds the situation bringing him closer to Bakugou than he thought possible. But who knows how this will change things between when they get out…

Pet Names by BluePlanetTrash | bakuiida | 4k | 2/? | quirk mishap | ooc | flufffffffff | overuse of petnames | #LetBakugouBeSweet2k19 | iida calls bakugou sugar and thats all that matters

Quirk: Infatuation - The user of this quirk affects two people by touching them at the same time, they then fall into a state of infatuation with each other; they could be affected by this for up to a week.

Iida and Bakugou get affected by an infatuation quirk that makes them be sweet to each other. So sweet, that it could give you cavities. Warning: This story will contain an excessive amount of pet names, hence the title.

Other Fandoms Fics: 

Portrait of a Young Girl by trishjames | drarry | 8k | 1/1 | established relationship | trans!teddy | internalised homophobia | family feels | light angst with a happy ending

Recently married, Harry and Draco are tasked with raising a four-year old Teddy, whose emerging gender identity brings up an array of questions, fears, and revelations for them when they realise that Teddy might be transgender.

Over the Moon and Up the Duff by hdmpregmod | drarry | 4k | 1/1 | established relationship | mpreg | fluff | harry is a little shit

When Draco learns he's pregnant again, he blames his husband. Harry, however, couldn't be happier.

Boyfriends From College by Impossibly_Izzy | peraltiago | 1k | 1/1 | bi!jake | established peraltiago | jake dated schneider and john mulaney | self discovery 

Jake dated two guys in college, but doesn't realise until he introduces one of them to Amy.

broken compass, still moving forward by confessionofaking | odaat (no pairing) | 1k | 1/1 | trans!schneider | coming out | misunderstandings | trans schneider stans come get yalls juice

The family learns a secret about Schneider

lemongrass and sleep, apple juice and peach by riverblujay | odaat (no pairings) | transgirl!alex | self discovery | coming out | syd is a great friend 

alex said the far scarier sentence that at the same time was more comforting than anything the teenager had ever heard before. “she,” alex mumbled under his- no, her- breath, voice beginning to choke up, “was sitting on her bed, in her room. her,” he- she, she- sighed and spoke just a little louder, just a little surer. “her name is alex, and she’s a girl.” alex smiled to herself, so small it was probably barely considered one. she didn’t care; she finally felt whole.

or: in another world, elena isn't the only alvarez daughter (but it takes alex some time to figure that out)

[scientistkink]

Say It- Enjoltaire

Quick Notes: hey! this is my first fanfic on Tumblr! idk why thars relavent because it’s not the first one i’ve ever made but i felt like letting you know. so now you know. my ao3 is here. fair old, bad fanfic warning for that thing. oof.

Anyway, enough chatter, enjoy!!

——————

Say It- Enjoltaire

By: scientistkink

Summary:

Enjolras tries to get a confession out of Grantaire. Grantaire ends up getting one out of Enjolras without even trying.

based on a prompt from stereokink on tumblr!

“SAY IT!” he shouted from halfway down the block. “SAY IT!” Not angry, just… pleading.

I couldn’t.. I.. There was no way. He was right there, and I was right here, and I knew the exact words I would say.

“You’re right. You’re always right. I’m in love with you, Enjolras. I’m sorry,” I would say. “I knew it,” he would say. “I fucking knew it. You should've told me before, Grantaire,” he’d say. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Why would I have?”

“Because I’m your friend! Because… Well I guess I just wish you did.”

“Enjolras, you have never been in love with anything but your studies. I have been in love before. I’ve told him right away before. It… didn’t turn out. What would you have even said?” I’d sigh, still not able to look him in the eye. I’m not sure what he’d say next. I’m not sure he would say anything at all.

Enjolras was still yelling. Thank god it wasn’t too loud, but I still think some of the people in the dorms near us were waking up.

I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t bring myself to.

He was getting tired, I could tell. He stopped yelling. He took a deep breath, took a step towards me, sighed, and simply asked: “Grantaire, what are you so afraid of?”

Well, that was a loaded question.

“What am I afraid of? Well, loads of things. Mainly rejection. Humiliation. Every encounter we have from now on being awkward as hell. I’ll never be able to face you again, Enj, and all my friends are also your friends. That sounds stupid, but every time I’d see them, I’d think of you,” I sighed.

He was silent. I didn’t know what his expression was. I didn’t want to look at him. I couldn’t.

“Grantaire, I..” he started. “I think it’d be best if you didn’t talk. I can make it the rest of the way to my dorm on my own. Thanks,” I interrupted, walking swiftly past him towards my hall a couple blocks down. It was dark, sure, but I knew my way around.

“Grantaire wait.”

I don’t know why, but I paused. I didn’t say anything.

“Let me say one thing, please. You don’t have to talk to me after that if you don’t want to.”

I was still silent. I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what he had to say, but he took it as a yes.

“Look… I’m sorry for pressuring you into telling me. I just.. I’m gonna start with something else, actually.

“Grantaire, I’m sorry I’m always working on schoolwork. I just feel so pressured by my parents to be the best in school so I can have a good job when I’m older. As much as I complain about them, they still get in my head. Honestly? They scare me. I wish I didn’t prioritize schoolwork so much. I wish I could articulate my feelings better. I never really learned how. I think… I think that’s why I was so drawn to you. I know you don’t think so, but you’re really good at showing your emotions. Sometimes too good,” he laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you, Grantaire. I do. And I have for a while. I honestly don’t know how long. And I get it if you still don’t want to talk to me. I shouldn’t have shouted. I shouldn’t have pressured you. Believe me, I know how it feels,” he tried to laugh again but it just came out as a sob. I turned around slowly.

He was crying. I never thought I would see the great Enjolras cry. But, here we were, in the cold, dark night, lit only with the streetlights and various dorm rooms still studying or doing god-knows-what late into the night.

I was frozen. I didn’t know what to do… How was I supposed to handle a crying Enjolras? I had him on such a pedestal and all in one swift motion, with just four words, he had knocked it down. “I like you, Grantaire.” He said that. Exactly that. I had never believed he would say those words. Oh, I’d dreamed of it, sure. But I never thought he’d say them for real. And I definitely didn’t think it’d be like this.

I don’t really remember much of what happened next. I kind of… went numb. I remember walking up to him, lightly touching his shoulder, then he fell into me. We hugged for a really long time. It seemed like forever. We both cried, I remember that. Then nothing until I woke up back in my dorm room, our limbs were tangled on my bed, Enjolras asleep. His eyes were still red. So were my cheeks. I fell asleep too.

I woke up the next morning groggy and sore. I opened my eyes to messy blonde hair and I was startled for a second before suddenly remembered. It started slowly at first, remembering the walk, the conversation leading up to it, then all at once I remembered the shouting. The feeling in my gut that made it feel like I’d just lost everyone I loved. I remembered walking away. I remembered Enjolras’s confession. The hug, the walk home, Enjolras falling asleep in my bed, smiling faintly despite having cried his eyes out just minutes earlier. I remembered….

I remembered I had an exam this morning.

Shit.

“Apollo,” I whispered, nudging Enjolras. He grunted and buried his face farther into the pillow. I smiled. “I never thought you’d be so grumpy, Apollo,” I said, a little louder. He laughed into the pillow. “I have a comp exam, love, will you let me leave?” I said. I really wasn’t planning on saying “love” but it came out of my mouth before I could stop it. He blushed but pulled his face out of the pillow. I smiled pleadingly. “Hmmm can’t you just skip it?” he mumbled, smiling. “You of all people should not be encouraging me to skip an exam,” I laughed. “It’s just one lousy exam,” he protested, but let me go anyway. I noticed we both just fell asleep in our clothes. I didn’t change. I did my hair, washed my face, and turned back to Enjolras. “So, what? Are you just going to stay in here all day? Snoop through my things? I must warn you, I am utterly uninteresting in whatever I have here,” I said, smirking at a very disheveled Enjolras, sprawled over the comforter on my bed. Thank god I got lucky and didn’t have to share the room with anyone. He laughed, “No, I actually have a couple classes later. Do you mind if I use your bathroom and stuff, though?” I don’t think it had fully set in that Enjolras was literally in my bed. We slept together. Well, not like that.. but you know. Technically. “Yeah,” I replied with minimal stuttering. “Of course that’s fine. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been in here, Enj,” I said in one breath. I ran my hand through my hair and breathed out. I really had to get going. I kneeled at the front of my bed and looked at Enjolras’s face. God, he was gorgeous even with terribly messy hair and tired eyes. “I need to go now, ‘Pollo,” I smiled. “Grantaire-“ he started, and I don’t know what Gryffindor spirit possessed my Hufflepuff ass in that moment, but I leaned forward and kissed him. Softly, on the lips, but still pushing forward. I put my hand on the back of his neck. I think I surprised him, but he kissed me back and I could feel his smile. After a bit I pulled away and stood up, scratching the back of my neck nervously. “Bye, Enjolras. I’ll see you later.”

He was smiling so wide. That made me smile wide too. “Bye, ‘Taire.”

[starrysence]

62. “Please, don’t cry.” with sprace but could you make it really fluffy? thx i love your writing and your blog! :D

aw thank you anon!! i tried to make this as fluffy as i could but i honestly could not work my way around this prompt without at least a LITTLE bit of angst so i hope thats ok!!

this prompt is from this list, but before you request (if you’d like to!) please look over the requesting guidelines i have!

genre: fLaNgSt

words: 599 

warnings: slightly graphic images of blood?? idk but theres blood man, uhhh nightmares,

×××

the last thing spot expects to see is bloodied fingers after he reaches out to cup race’s cheek, heart shattering at the way his breath stutters at even the slightest physical contact.

“tonio, who- who did this to you?” he asks, words laced with worry and fear and anger and so many other indescribable emotions.

“doesn’t matter, darlin’,” race chuckles and coughs, and then wipes at his nose. he doesn’t seem fazed by the blood on his knuckles as he studies them. “it’s too late now, anyways.”

“no! no, don’t talk like that, racer, you’re gonna be fine.” spot can see the tears clouding his vision of the boy in front of him and he has to choke back a sob. “please, you have to be fine…”

“hey… you’ll be okay,” race tells spot quietly. he weakly grabs spot’s hand and kisses the back of it, giving it a faint squeeze and managing to smile at spot. “i love you, sean.”

and then race’s hand goes cold and limp in spot’s hold, and the sobs he’s been holding back for so long finally escape him.

“spot!”

the name causes him to sit up abruptly, eyes watery as he attempts to adjust to the sudden darkness that envelops the room. his voice comes out as a whisper when he speaks. “racer?”

“yeah, it’s just me… it’s racer,” race says softly, wrapping his arms around spot cautiously. when spot leans into his touch, he strengthens his embrace and holds the smaller boy close to his chest. “baby, you’re shaking… did you have a bad dream again?”

“yes,” spot says, unable to help the sob that slips from him. “god, race, i don’t know when they’ll stop… i really hate the idea of seein’ you so hurt, or- or losing you—”

“hey,” race cuts him off gently, “i promise you’re not gonna lose me… not for a long, long time, sweetheart. i’m not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to.” he kisses the top of spot’s head and runs a hand through his hair, knowing it always calms spot down.

“i’m sorry, tonio,” spot whispers. his tears begin to fall before he can blink them away. “i’m sorry for always wakin’ you because of these damn dreams…”

race shakes his head and takes spot’s face in his hands, carefully, as if holding any tighter would shatter the boy in front of him. “please, don’t cry…” he whispers, jokingly adding, “you know i’ll cry if you cry.”

spot sniffles and chuckles a little bit, “okay, but you cry about everything.”

race grins brightly, and spot can’t help but smile. sometimes the taller boy practically radiates sunshine, especially when he grins.

“there’s my spotti—!”

“don’t call me that.”

race laughs and plants a kiss on spot’s forehead, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “alright, but i’m real proud of you, you know that?”

spot raises an eyebrow, confused. “what for?”

“i remember the first time you had a nightmare while we were sharin’ a bed. you wouldn’t even let me look at ya, spot, let alone touch ya. what did you say to me when i asked you why you hid your face from me?”

“i… um, i said i didn’t want you to see me cry,” spot recalls, gaze shifting to his lap.

“yeah, and i’m proud ‘cause you’ve come real far since then, sweetheart,” race says softly, smiling. “and now that you’ve got me wide awake, how’s about we go start that show al and dave won’t shut up about?”

spot laughs quietly, “you mean the good place?”

“yeah, that one!”

×××

can you tell i adore casual dialogue endings? ANYWAYS i hope you enjoyed this!!!! lil thing!! im hopin to be on a writing kick today

-sanj 💕

tag list:

@one-candy-cane-please ​ | @suddenly-im-respecsable | @intoomanyfandomstopickaname ​ | @be-more-chill-evan-hansen | @aw-jus-let-em-try | @bencookisagod​ | @well-the-kids-do-too ​| @auspicioustarantula​ | @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn ​ | @have-we-got-news-for-you ​ | @not-a-scab ​ | @pineappapizza | @andthewoildwillknow ​ | @concrete–donuts ​ | @stopthe-presses ​ | @thomasbeingthomas | @i-love-loki-and-sherlock | @maxvanna | @spot-me50-papes | @and-i-lostmy-shoe | @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing | @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog | @backgroundnewsies | @ridin-in-style | @sunshine-e-cigarettes | @macaroni-0verlord | @probablyeunoia | @thebroadwayaesthetic | @how-bout-a-crookedpolitician | @fellthroughableedingtrapdoor | @awkwardstranger98 | @bxnesof92

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[s-riusblck]

WILD 

NOTES: Honestly idk what this is???? 99% of this doesn’t even relate to the lyrics anymore but my original idea was inspired by this song so I thought I’d keep them in there. Also, I’ve definitely veered from the facts a little bit in regards to things like when Sirius ran away etc. Hope you all enjoy, feedback is always appreciated and thank you for all love!! PS my requests are now open so if you’d like to see something specifically, please let me know!! (x)

SHIP: Sirius Black x Reader

DESCRIPTION: Inspired by the song Wild - Troye Sivan ft. Alessia Cara. Set in the Marauders Era. Sirius Black was the one boy your father had warned you to stay away from, but he was the one boy you were head over heels in love with. 

WARNINGS: Family issues, cursing 

ASK / PROMPTS

**********

Trying hard not to fall On the way home You were trying to wear me down, down Kissing up on fences And up on walls On the way home I guess it's all working out, now

His lips were on yours, your back pressed firmly against the wall. Your hands were in his, fingers intertwined, pinned against the wall above your head. His lips began to kiss a trail down to your neck, your grip tightening on his hands. A soft moan escaped your lips as he nipped lightly at the skin of your neck, and as his body pressed against yours, you swore in that moment that no one could love you better than Sirius Black did.

Growing up a part of the sacred twenty-eight, Sirius Black had been apart of your life for as long as you could remember. In fact, he was a major part of your life. He was your best friend. He was everything you looked for and more, so it came as no surprise to you when you realised you were head over heels in love with him. But loving Sirius Black was complicated. He was rebellious, and he went against everything your family and his believed in when it came to blood status. It had all seemed so perfect to begin with, both families encouraging your friendship when you were younger in the hopes of the two of you carrying on the blood line someday, until one day he started to show signs of rebellion. Your father immediately told you to stay away from him, but you couldn’t. You could never stay away from him. 

The cracks in your relationship with your father first began to show when you attended Hogwarts, and like Sirius, you were sorted into Gryffindor. Even a glance in Sirius’ direction at a formal dinner with the members of the sacred twenty-eight after that led to a fight and it was exhausting, but this didn’t stop your relationship with Sirius blossoming, because you had Hogwarts. When you were at Hogwarts, there was nothing in the way and you both fell madly in love with each other. He was your happiness, your home. He was your everything, and you were his. He made you feel emotions on a level you never thought possible. He made you laugh, cry, scream, shout and smile. But most of all, he made you happy. He made your happiness his first priority always, even in the little things like how he let you put your cold feet against him at night to warm them up. He loved you. 

Your graduation from Hogwarts had come around a lot quicker than you would of hoped, and now you were faced with the prospect of your future. You knew what you wanted to do. You wanted to be with Sirius, and your friends, and you wanted to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to fight against the infatuation with blood status, but that meant fighting against your family. You knew what the right thing to do was, but you were scared, because your family wasn’t just your father. It was your mother, who despite her beliefs, always supported you. It was complicated. And the guilt was crushing you. Sirius had wanted to run from his family for weeks, but he put it off because outside of Hogwarts, the only chance you got to see each other was at the scared twenty-eight events. It wasn’t fair to him, you knew that, and you knew it was coming to a time where you’d have to act. 

But in that moment, you were in Sirius’ arms and you were enjoying every second of it. You turned your head to the side, capturing his lips with yours as he ran his hands down your arms and to the back of your thighs, lifting you up so your legs wrapped around his waist. You ran your hands through his hair, gripping on tightly as you kissed him. 

“I have to go in.” You mumbled against his lips, pressing another kiss to them before you leaned your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. 

“You don’t.” Sirius replied, and you sighed, opening your eyes and brushing some loose strands of hair back from his face. 

“I do.” You repeated, resting your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his bottom lip. He closed his eyes at the touch, and you smiled, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

He sighed as he lowered you to the ground, his arms wrapping around your waist and your wrapping around his neck as you pulled him down into a hug. “Baby, you should go to James’. Leave Grimmauld Place. I don’t want to see you spending even another second there because of me.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck, your fingers beginning to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You shouldn’t have to put up with any of the shit there just because I haven’t built up the courage to leave yet.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself.” He said, pulling back slightly so he could look at you, bringing a hand up to your cheek. “You’ll figure it out soon, I know you will. And it’ll all be worth it. We’ll have very day together then.” 

You smiled up at him, the thought of getting to spend every day with him again as if you were back in Hogwarts filling you with hope. “You’ll be able to keep me warm at night again.” You grinned.

He snorted and kissed your forehead. “Maybe I’ll just stay at Grimmauld Place.” He teased, a smirk on his face. 

You rolled your eyes and leaned up, pressing another long kiss to his lips. “I love you.” You mumbled. 

“I love you.” He replied, kissing you once more. “I’ll see you soon.” He said as he stepped back.

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, and watched as he disappeared into the darkness, before beginning to make your way up to your house. 

——

Leave this blue neighbourhood Never knew loving could hurt this good And it drives me wild Cause when you look like that I've never ever wanted to be so bad It drives me wild You're driving me wild, wild, wild

The sight of Sirius Black in a suit was something that simply couldn’t be described in words. There was no denying that he was a handsome man, in fact, you would go as far as to say the most handsome man you had ever seen. It was just yet another reason you thanked Merlin everyday for bringing him into your life. But whenever he walked into a room in a suit, all control was lost. It took every fibre of your being not to jump him right there and then. So, when the annual sacred twenty-eight ball came around, Sirius Black and that suit were the only things that made it bearable. 

Although you knew Sirius found you beautiful in absolutely anything, and was blown away by your beauty on many occasions, you really wanted to see his jaw drop that night. You picked out the most beautiful gown you could find, and spent the day perfecting your hair and makeup. You felt confident, and for once, excited to attend the event just to see the look on your boyfriends face. 

As you approached the door to the extravagant ballroom behind your parents, you took a deep breathe, mentally preparing yourself to deal with the infuriation you felt every time you walked into one of these events. “Remember who you are, (Y/N).” Your father said, and you forced a nod, before he opened the door and you followed in. The greetings began almost immediately, but you drowned them out, your eyes scanning the room for the light in all the darkness, but he was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed internally and forced a smile as you began to greet people, deciding that the Black family probably just hadn’t arrived yet. As the evening went on, though, you grew more and more anxious. They were never usually late. You sat at a table with your parents as they socialised, absentmindedly picking at the finger food as your eyes stayed trained on the door. The conversation around you nothing but a mere mumble as a million thoughts of why Sirius hadn’t arrived yet rushed through your mind. 

“Evening, (Y/N). Care to dance?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice cut through those thoughts, and for a moment you narrowed your eyes at him, until you felt your fathers eyes boring holes into the side of your head. Forcing a sarcastic smile, you nodded, before following him towards the floor. 

“Waiting for someone?” He asked as you reluctantly began to dance with him, keeping as much distance as possible. 

“Why? Is it that obvious I don’t want to dance with you?” You snapped back.

“You could have better, you know. He’s a blood traitor, fighting for the wrong side.”

“Oh, and I suppose you consider yourself to be better?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you for the input, but Sirius is ten times the man you’ll ever be. He’s even more than that. He’s perfect, and I know for a fact there’s no one even remotely better than him out there.” You replied confidently, before your eyes flicked over to the opening doors, your brows furrowing as you saw Regulus, Orion and Walburga walk through, but no sign of Sirius. You pulled away from Lucius and began to walk towards them, your actions clouded by the dread you were beginning to feel.

As you approached, Regulus stepped in front of you, guiding you away from his parents and out into a more secluded hallway. 

“Where’s Sirius?” You asked him immediately, your nerves on edge with anticipation of his answer. 

“He wanted me to give you this.” Regulus said as he handed you a note, and you opened it to see Sirius’ handwriting.

Love, 

When you’re ready, I’ll be at James’ house. I love you.

Sirius.

You looked up at Regulus in confusion, arching at eyebrow at him as you waited for him to elaborate. 

“There was a massive row. They, uh... They said and did some horrible things to him, and he left. He had given this note to me a while back in case something like this happened.” Regulus explained, and you felt anger bubbling in your stomach like you had never felt before. Before your mind had even processed it, you began to storm across the ballroom towards Sirius’ parents, your breathing heavy as you anger boiled over, ignoring the warning calls of Regulus from behind you. 

“How could you?” You almost spitted out as you approached Orion and Walburga, your knuckles white as you balled your fists at either side of you. “You’re both disgusting. How could you ever treat any human being, let alone your own son, like you have all these years? It’s disgusting.” 

The room began to quieten down as your voice raised, and people became aware of what was happening.

“How dare you,” Walburga began, and as you felt your fathers hard grip on your shoulder you pushed him off, the look of disgust on your face only intensifying. 

“Don’t touch me.” You warned him, sending him a glare as hard as stone. You let out a breathy laugh as you looked around the room, shaking your head. “You’re all pathetic if you believe blood status makes you any less of a cruel, soulless person than you really are.” And you turned back to Walburga and Orion, shaking your head once more. “You don’t in any way deserve a son like Sirius Black. You don’t deserve such a kind, strong, brave, beautiful, loving person in your life. Despite your best efforts, you haven’t ruined him. You’ve only made him stronger.” 

And before you could react, you felt the harsh sting of Walburga’s hand hitting your cheek and with one last cold glance, you disapparated from the room. 

——

We’re alike you and I Two blue hearts locked in our wrong minds So can we make the most out of no time? Can you hold me? Can you make me leave my demons and my broken pieces behind?

With a crack, you arrived at the street of James’ house. It was dark and empty, and you took a moment to try and slow down the thoughts buzzing through your mind. Bringing a hand up to your cheek, you winced as it stung, pulling your fingers away and sighing as you saw blood on your fingertips. 

You wiped it away before you picked up your dress and began walking down the street towards James’ house, tears streamed down your cheeks as all the emotions from the night washed over you. It was overwhelming, infuriating, but as you walked down the street, you felt free. You finally felt free from the grips of your father and his pure blood mania. You finally came to the full realisation of the pain and the marks the years of living under his watch had left, because you were finally free of them. 

You walked up the driveway to James’ house, knocking on the door gently. Seeing James opening it and standing there in front of you, you immediately felt a sense of comfort. 

“(Y/N)? What the hell happened? Are you okay?” He said, ushering you inside and closing the door. 

“Is Sirius-“ You began, but your question was cut short as you saw him walk into the hallway. Shock was written across his features as his eyes took in every inch of you, but it soon turned to concern as he spotted the cut on your cheek and the stream of tears. You took in his appearance, concern mirrored on your own face. He looked exhausted, but even with the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome.

“This is not how I planned to look when I saw you tonight.” You said, and with the sound of your voice, he moved towards you, resting a hand on your good cheek and pressing a long, gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” He asked, and you sighed, bringing your hands up to rest on either side of his waist and resting your forehead against his chest. 

“I don’t think you want to know.” You mumbled, a small smile gracing your lips as you felt him press another kiss to the top of your head. Lifting your head up, you looked at him. Seeing his expression, you huffed, knowing you weren’t going to get away with not telling him. “Don’t freak out, okay? It was the ever so lovely Walburga, I-“

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He began, a storm of anger building in his eyes. 

“Babe, It’s fine. She slapped me across the face, my dead grandmother could of done worse damage than that. It’s fine.”

His features softened as he snorted in amusement at your words, and James barked a laugh from behind you. “Brilliant. I’ll go let my mum know you’re here, she’ll fix that up in no time.” James said and you smiled gratefully at him before he disappeared into another room. 

After Euphemia had fixed up the cut on your cheek, you thanked her and Fleamont for letting you stay, said goodnight to James and headed up the stairs to the guest bedroom with Sirius, your fingers laced through his, his other hand holding up your dress for you as you walked. “How did I score such a gentleman?” You grinned, glancing back at him as you walked into the room and he closed the door behind the two of you. 

“How did I score the most beautiful girl?” He replied, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you to him. “You look beautiful tonight. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to tell you that.” 

“Don’t apologise.” You said, shaking your head  as you rested your hands on his chest, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his shirt. “I’m glad you did what you did. You couldn’t stay in that house any longer, and it was the push I needed to realise I couldn’t either.” 

He smiled and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. A kiss that reassured you that you made the right decision, and that took away some of the pain of what your life had been so far. “I could kiss you all night, but I need to get out of these heels.” You mumbled, giving him another quick kiss before you turned around, pulling your hair forward as he undid the zip on your dress. Once undone, he grabbed a shirt from the bag he had brought and handed it to you, you slipped into it before sitting down on the edge of the bed and undoing your heels.

Once you were both ready, you climbed into bed next to him, facing each other as your body’s tangled together, your fingers running through his hair, his drawing circles on your back. “Are you okay? After everything?” He asked, and you smiled, nodding at him.

���I will be. Are you?” 

“With you, I’ll be more than okay.” He said, and your smile only grew as you kissed him once more, feeling safe in his arms. You both had broken pieces to fix, and demons to deal with, but you know a life with Sirius by your side would be more than enough to heal you, because you knew for certain now, no one could love you better than Sirius Black.