#in other news think m gonna start having physical sign offs on the posts some posts and also include THE PRONOUNSSSS ‼️💯🔥
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statesys · 12 days ago
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; thinking about how I'm not faking and imagining my fellow states and like. y'all they're gonna be here, with me, for maybe forever. they're not going anywhere and hnnshsv I'm not lying !! ah !! /pos
- myles ( he / it )
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moremaybank · 9 months ago
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in between 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𐦍
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pairing bestfriend!jj maybank x fem!reader
summary best friends since the second grade, it was only inevitable that you and jj would fall for each other. however, when a single night suddenly changes things between you, you’re both left wondering if you ever should’ve tried to cross the line at all. [11.8k]
warnings 18+, unprotected sex (sorry, but what else is new?), dry humping, oral (m. receiving), daddy kink, pet names (pretty girl, princess, etc.), dirty talk, body-shaming (not by jj), reader's parents being shitty, drunk jj causing a scene at a party, childhood best friends to lovers, a love confession, i think that's it???
author's note i really hope you guys like this one! kinda nervous bc i haven't posted a full fic in awhile, but i think i'm happy with it. ik it's long, but i think it's worth it! also, enjoy the logan huntzberger (gilmore girls) cameo LOL
in between universe | jj masterlist | playlist | kofi
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Amid the raging storm outside, a series of frantic knocks on your front door echoed through your house. You rushed to the door, swinging it open to reveal a drenched and dishevelled JJ Maybank. 
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in panic, yanking him inside. Your hands quickly found his face, and then his shoulders as your eyes scanned his body for any signs of injury. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” 
“Hello to you, too,” he greeted, smiling down at you. He couldn’t deny the stroke his ego got, nor the fluttering in his stomach he felt when you worried for him. “I’m fine, by the way. Jus’ a tad cold.” 
JJ hoped you’d take the hint and pull him into your arms — the place he always longed to be — but was caught off guard when your hand slapped his chest. “Hey!” 
“What if you catch pneumonia?!”
“I’m fine, Y/N/N.”
“Fine? You could’ve gotten killed!” 
“By what? The gentle breeze outside?” That earns him another slap. “Ow!”
“Don’t smart-mouth me, Maybank.” 
“You love my smart mouth,” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully. 
Once again, his hopes were wrong, because while he was praying for a glimpse of that smile that made his knees weak, your hand came flying at him for a third time. Luckily for him, he was quick, catching your wrist and pulling you to stand right in front of him. 
“You’re gonna wanna be real careful about what you do next, princess.” Powerful blue eyes locked with yours and you knew that he’d won. “Gotta say, this is not the welcome I was expecting. Kinda hoped I’d get a kiss or somethin’.” 
Your heart sang at his comment, but you remained focused on the outside, keeping your face straight. 
“For what? Being an idiot?”
Then, he gave you the face. 
Pouty, and adorable, and JJ, and just like he had planned, you started to fold. 
You couldn’t stay mad at him if you tried. 
Even if he helped. 
“I’m sorry. I’m just worried. You aren’t invincible, you know.” 
He visibly softened at your words, as if he wasn’t soft on you before, and he released your wrist. But he didn’t give your hand back to you. Instead, he kept it with him, mindlessly playing with your fingers so he wouldn’t have to give up the physical contact.
“C’mon. You really think I’m gonna let anythin’ stop me from annoying you for the rest of your life? Not a chance, baby.” 
Baby. Uh oh. Your resolve was beginning to waver. 
“‘N the reason I came is ‘cause I didn’t want my pretty girl alone in this mess,” he murmured, and you detected some shyness in his voice. “Besides, when have we ever spent a storm night apart?” 
Aaand it was gone. 
Vanished. 
He always knew how to get you. Then again, you always let him. 
You tilted your head, fighting a smile and losing miserably when it broke free. “Alright. I guess you’re sweet. Even if you’re an idiot.” 
“There’s my girl,” he grinned. “Now gimme a hug. I’m cold.” He tried to reach out for you, but you backed away, putting more distance between you two.
“No way, you’re soaked,” you laughed, now extremely grateful for the cozy pjs you were sporting.
“Oh, c’mon. You’re really not gonna hug me?” He picked up an old-timey accent when he spoke next, “I ventured through the brave storm to see you, m’lady. The least you could do is offer me a warm embrace.” 
He was so animated with it that it was damn near impossible not to giggle. “My sincerest apologies, sir. You seem to be out of luck.” 
“Alright, that’s it.” 
Before you knew it, JJ lunged at you. You let out a squeal, running as fast as you could with your socks slipping against the marble tiles. 
It took a little bit of time, and you’d covered a lot of area in the house by the time he finally captured you. Strong, brawny arms wrapped around your frame and picked you up right off the ground. He spun you around in the air a few times, relishing in the sun-soaked laughter that escaped you before putting you down. 
You turned around in his grip, looking incredibly earnest when your hands came to rest on his arms. “Thanks for coming to save me. Not that I needed it.” 
He smiled warmly at your statement. “I’ll always come ‘n save you,” he said, capturing your chin between his fingers. His thumb stroked over your chin softly. “You’re my Y/N/N. Nothin’s more important than you.” 
You found yourself stuck in an intense stare with him yet again, your heart thumping loudly at his sincerity and gooey sweetness. 
“Come on. You need to shower before you get sick.” 
You grabbed his hand, but he came willingly with a lovestruck look you couldn’t see. 
“Yes, ma'am.” 
After shoving JJ into the shower and practically pouring a hot cup of tea down his throat to ensure he was warm from the inside out, the two of you found solace in your cozy and — in JJ’s words — kooky bed with your backs against the pillows and headboard. 
“Make fun all you want but you and I both know I have to drag you out of here kicking ‘n screaming every time you sleepover.” 
“…Shut up.”
Despite his words, JJ huddled closer to you under the plush covers. The wind howled outside, alongside the occasional rumble of thunder. If it weren’t for the light casting around the room from your TV, and the entirely hilarious sitcom How I Met Your Mother playing in the background, the ambience would’ve made the room feel eerie.
“So,” JJ began, breaking the silence, “you heard from your parents lately? Thought they were supposed to come back this week?” 
Ah, yes. Your parents. 
From a young age, you’d learned not to expect much from the people who had brought you into the world.
The minute they realized they could, they’d handed you off to a nanny and threw themselves back into the lives they’d lived before you had arrived. Your mom went heavy on the scotch and retail therapy, and your dad had re-immersed himself in his work. When he wasn’t doing that, he was squandering his free time away at the country club, playing golf and consuming copious amounts of alcohol alongside your mother.
Anything to get out of the house, and, evidently, away from you. 
The older you grew, the less you saw of them as they travelled the world for business. By the time you were fifteen, you’d pretty much been living in that enormous mansion all by yourself for ten months out of the year. 
Sometimes, even more. 
Not that you’d ever voice your complaints to them. You knew they wouldn’t hear you. They’d simply spew out something along the lines of ‘Sweetheart, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life. if you had, you’d understand that we can’t be there for every silly little dance recital or graduation.’ 
And yes, that included your high school graduation. 
When they did spend time with you, that time would be filled with snarky comments about your appearance and about your sympathy for the pogues. Nothing about you ever seemed to satisfy them.
But somehow, amid the loneliness and abandonment you’d been able to comprehend from far too young of an age, you’d found and held onto the one person who made it all melt away. 
JJ. 
It was the first day of second grade, and all the children in your class were colouring. All of them except for the little blonde boy who sat across the room, by himself, with a blank sheet of paper in front of him, but nothing to colour with. You were only six at the time, but you could sense that he was alone too. And your heart hurt for him because it hurt the same way for you. 
So, you got up from your seat, grabbed your paper and your sixty-four pack of crayons (the pack that every child dreamt of having) and trotted off to his table. You perched yourself in the chair beside his and offered to share your crayons with him. 
At first, he just stared at you. You thought that maybe he didn’t want you there, but then, you saw the tiniest glimpse of his dimple when he gave you a small smile, nodding. 
“Thanks.” 
And now, a decade and a half later, you were just as inseparable as you had been since that very first day. 
Your house was now considered a home, had been since the moment JJ first stepped onto the marble flooring with his boyishly muddy shoes. He filled the aching silence with laughter and excitement and finally, finally, some cherishable memories. 
Like how he’d helped you climb your first tree, and carried you on his back into your house after you’d scraped your knee while doing so. Camping in your backyard and sprinting inside once non-forecasted rain came pouring down on your flimsy little kiddy tent. He’d accidentally stolen your first kiss (and he’d never admit it, but he was and still is overjoyed to have done so). Movie nights where he’d let you pick the film and sit happily while you pushed his hair back and applied a face mask to his tanned skin. 
Anything you wished for, JJ would give it to you without a second thought. Any time you needed him, he’d drop everything to run over to you. He was loyal, sweet, hilarious, thoughtful, and though he was good at hiding it from the light, his heart was pure gold. 
But what had mattered most to you was that in a world where everyone close to you had chosen to leave, he was the one who had stayed. 
Without him, there was noise. 
With him? Quiet. 
Peaceful, and calm, and quiet. 
No one turned your world like him. And that made it that much more inevitable to fall for him. 
The feeling of JJ’s finger tapping against your temple broke you out of your daze. “Hey. You in there?”
“Yeah, sorry,” you replied. “My mom called me a couple days ago to tell me they cancelled their flight. They’re coming back on Monday instead.” 
“So, basically, what I’m hearin’ is that they just didn’t wanna be stuck in the house with you all weekend.” 
“Precisely.” 
You mocked your mother’s voice when you spoke next. “You know I can only take that sorry little island in small doses. Besides, if we come home now, we’ll be holed up in the house during that storm. Why on earth would I trade my penthouse view for that?”
JJ gave you a sad look, obviously upset for you. It wasn’t like he expected much from them either, but he knew that deep down, even if you refused to admit it, it stung. 
They really couldn’t spend one weekend with you? Being with their daughter is that much of a hardship for them? 
“Stop. It’s fine.” And you meant it. These kinds of stunts were nothing new to you. You didn’t think they were gonna race home to you to make sure you were okay. A quick text would suit them just as well. 
“Don’t do that,” he stopped you. “You’re allowed to be upset. Your parents are assholes.” 
Assholes that were so far past unaware of the remarkable person they’d given life to. It shook him to his core, the realization that someone so beautiful both inside and out had come from two cold and selfish people. 
But if they would never appreciate you, who cared, because JJ knew he always would. 
He’d never let a single moment pass without telling you how special you were. How much you’d helped him, given him a safe haven and shoulder to cry on when he needed it. 
Given him peace. 
And, if he ever worked up the damn courage…he’d spend every minute of the rest of his life telling you how much he loved you. 
You just shrugged in response. “It is what it is. I’m luckier than most.” 
He frowned at that. It’d always hurt him to watch you belittle your problems just because you were better off financially. It was almost as if you were numb.
“Well, at least they’ll be here for your birthday. That’s somethin’.” 
“Nah, they’re flying back to New York on Friday.” 
“Are you serious?” He asked, sitting up straight now. “They couldn’t wait one day?” 
“You know how they feel about birthdays, J.” 
That was true. JJ had heard them give you the ‘Why should you be rewarded for being born? That isn’t an achievement,’ talk countless times over the years. They’d just stick a wad of cash into your nanny’s hand and tell her to take you out to the mall as if their missing your birthday would be fixed with a shopping spree. 
As if it would erase the resentment you knew they felt toward you. 
“That doesn’t make it right,” he said, growing frustrated. “Y/N/N, it, like, sickens me to keep watchin’ ‘em treat you like this. You gotta say something.” 
“Like what, J? They’d never listen. Just drop it.” 
He deflated a bit, leaning back into his original position. “Look, ‘m sorry, okay? I just…I don’t get it. You’re amazin’, you’re— you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know how they don’t feel the same.” 
Damn it. There he went again, making it impossible for you to be in a sour mood. 
Gingerly, you turned to him, sitting with your legs criss-crossed. “You’re the only one keeping me going, y’know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
He sat up once more and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against the apple of it as he looked deep into your eyes. It felt like he was staring into your soul. 
“I promise you’ll never have to find out.” He looked down then, biting his lip slightly before meeting your gaze again. “I put that on my life.”
The rest of the world faded away while the two of you stayed in that moment, frozen in time as if you were a scene captured in a snow globe. 
It was times like these when you felt yourself start to believe the things Kie was always telling you. 
“I’m just saying, like, how do you not see it?” 
She’d been up your ass ever since the boys had split up from you two and left The Wreck. Kie was working at the counter, filling up drinks and cashing out takeout orders. 
Oh, and pestering you about JJ’s so-called affections for you.
“Maybe because I’ve known him since we were six and I know what it looks like when he flirts with other girls,” you remarked.
“Okay, but, like, you’re not just some random girl to him. You’re you.”
You made a face. “I don’t even know what that means.” 
The groan that emitted from her lips was loud enough to catch the attention of countless customers, but she didn’t seem to care.
“You’re impossible,” she said, placing the lids on three soft drinks. “I’ve known JJ almost as long as you have, and in that time, one thing about him has always been crystal-fucking-clear. He’s in love with you. Always has been, always will be.”
“Whatever you say,” you hummed in response, taking a sip of your Coke and pushing away the warm, fuzzy feeling floating through you at the thought of her words being true. 
Meanwhile, JJ was struggling not to act on his desires. 
It was the perfect moment. 
You were quite literally in his hands — or hand, rather — looking as beautiful as ever. He could kiss you. Right now. Plant one on you, a real kiss, unlike that accidental peck he shared with you at the age of twelve. He’d truly get to taste you this time around and silently convey all his love for you. 
And then, fate helped him out. 
The lights flickered and cut out in time with a rumble of thunder, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. 
JJ took it as a sign. 
He leaned forward, and his lips connected with yours. It was soft, tentative at first to see if you’d back off or push him away. To his surprise, your hand snaked up his front, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer. He took that as permission and kissed you deeper, his tongue stroking against yours in a dizzying fashion. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he pocketed the sound in his mind, saving it for later when he was alone and was thinking about you. 
And not in an innocent way. 
JJ’s hands found your waist, sliding down to your hips before tugging you closer. You took his invitation and clambered your way onto his lap, your lips never leaving his. 
God, kissing him felt good. Too good. It was nothing like you’d ever imagined. No, it was better. He kissed you like he’d stop breathing if he didn’t. Like the world would burst into flames and end right then and there if he let go of you. 
You didn’t know what was happening, and frankly, in fear of the truth, you had no plans of asking him. If this was the only way you could ever have him, you’d take it without a second thought, consequences be damned. 
You were sure that your decision was nowhere near wise, but there was simply no time for wisdom. 
JJ, your JJ, was kissing you. Kissing you and touching you and giving himself over to you, even if it was only for one night. 
And if doing this was wrong, for once in your life, you didn’t want to be right.
JJ’s hands pulled at the hem of your shirt, and you broke the kiss to let him strip you of it. He tossed it carelessly while his eyes landed on your bare tits. 
“Christ,” he whispered, his hands coming up to cup them both. “These are fuckin’ perfect.” 
His thumbs brushed over your nipples and you shivered. “J.” 
“Shh. I gotchu, baby. Relax for me, yeah? Let me take my time?” 
“Yeah,” you breathed. “But can you take your shirt off? Wanna see you too.” 
He smiled. You were so damn sweet, it would nearly give him a toothache. “Yeah, pretty girl. I can do that.” 
JJ shrugged off his beat-up Heyward’s tee, discarding it on the floor. You ogled at him, at least ninety percent sure that huge red cartoon hearts were projecting from your eyes. 
“You’re droolin’ a bit, there,” JJ teased, thumbing at your lip. 
Heat crept up into your face at his comment. “Shut up.” 
On the inside, he loved the way you were looking at him. You handled him delicately, hands cradling his face as if he were an intricate piece of artwork that you wanted to study and commit to memory. 
Every line, every slope, every curve.  
Every last stunning piece of him.
“You’re so beautiful, J.” 
JJ had been loved by you since elementary school. Sure, it was in a best friend's way, but being loved by you had changed his world. Now, with the way you were looking at him, the way you were speaking to him, the way you were touching him…he couldn’t help but imagine that this was what it’d be like to really be with you. 
He turned bashful, his heart still fluttering at your words. “‘M supposed to be sayin’ that to you. Look at you.” 
“Stop that,” you said, looking him right in the eyes. “You deserve to be loved on. Let yourself have this. Let yourself feel loved, J.” 
Those words echoed in his mind. JJ never felt like he deserved anything good, so he always pushed those opportunities away. Ruined them and made them inaccessible. But with you in his arms, pleading with him to let you show him that he was worthy, he started to believe that maybe he did deserve something positive. 
And if it were coming from you? Well, he’d take it without question.
He surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He wanted to kiss you until his lips were sore, and even then, he wouldn’t stop. 
With greedy hands, the both of you touched every sliver of skin you could find, your lips never leaving the others for a second. Your hands found their way to JJ’s unruly golden locks, fingers carding through them so you could tug on them a little. A deep rumble of satisfaction came from JJ’s throat, and the noise had been so heavenly that your hips started to roll against his on their own accord. 
The friction was toe-curling, so addicting that you couldn’t stop rutting against him even if you wanted to. He was hard as a rock, and big. So big. You didn’t even need him to get naked to know you were right. 
“F-Fuck,” JJ stammered against your lips, though his hands didn’t stop helping your hips move. “Keep goin’ ‘n I’ll cum before I’m even inside you.” 
“But you feel so good,” you whined. Your brows were pulled together and your jaw was slack, the stimulation already getting you close. “Oh my god.” 
“Baby—”
“Please, J. I need it. Don’t make me stop. P-Please don’t make me stop.” 
You were right on the edge, and all JJ could focus on were your pretty pleas and the desperation written all over your face. He wanted to watch you explode, wanted to watch you go slack as the pleasure rolled through you. Wanted to hear what you sounded like when you came for him.
So he encouraged you. 
“Go ‘head, pretty girl. Make a mess. Get yourself nice ‘n wet for me.” His lips found your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin to leave his mark. He felt you cling to him as your actions sped up, his cock throbbing as he tried to fight off his high. It almost took everything in him not to give in. “Good girl. You got it.” 
You came loudly, chest heaving up and down as your body twitched and went through the motions of your release. You felt JJ leave more wet kisses across your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing, your hand playing with his hair carelessly. 
“That might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, baby,” he spoke, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Goosebumps formed underneath his fingertips, and he couldn’t help himself from realizing how responsive your body was for him. 
It’d never been like this with anyone else. No one could compare to you. He didn’t even have to sink into you for confirmation. 
He was fucking done for.
JJ never thought his complete and utter devotion to you could ever run deeper in his veins, but here you were, proving him wrong. 
He was more than fine with that. 
“Fuck me, J. Need you inside me,” you said, hands running over the planes of his chest. Your lip was caught between your teeth, and JJ could tell that you were feeling shy. 
“How could I ever deny you when you’re askin’ me so nicely, huh?” He thumbed at your bottom lip, trying to break it free so he could kiss you again. He did, giving you a deep kiss bubbling over the top with affection. “How do you want it?” 
“Wanna ride you. Can I?” 
Fuck. 
“You can have whatever you want, princess.” 
You grinned, your hands running down the path of his front before finding the button of his pants with ease. You popped it open, unzipping them and tugging his boxers down. His cock sprang out, beautiful and pink and curved. The bead of pre-cum caught your eye, and your mouth watered instantly, dying to know what he tasted like. You dipped your head down, your tongue sticking out and swirling around his tip gently as you coated your tastebuds with him. You were about to dive in for seconds when JJ stopped you. 
“Please don’t, baby. I won’t last.” 
You pouted. “But I wanna suck you off. Don’t you wanna fuck my throat?” 
Christ. Those sinful words sounded nothing but heavenly, and it was hard to resist you. 
“Promise you can later. But right now,” he paused, hands grabbing you and pulling you to straddle his lap again, “I need to feel that pretty pussy.” 
“Yes, daddy.” 
JJ threw his head back with a groan. “You’re really tryna kill me, aren’t you?” 
You simply giggled in response, before circling your hand around his cock. You slid his tip through your folds, from your creamy slit to your clit — and the whimper you let out when you rubbed it over your bundle of nerves almost sent JJ into shock — then back down to your hole again. You started to sink down on him, letting out a hiss when he stretched you wide. Once his tip was inside, JJ swore he started to drool. He was barely inside you and yet your hot, wet walls felt like ecstasy. 
When you sank down all the way, JJ let out a tortured, “Fuckin’ soaked, fuck.” Your walls fluttered subconsciously, and he groaned. “Move for me before I bust. Please.” 
“No cumming yet, J,” you tutted, slowly beginning to bounce on him and giving in to his wishes. He was so big, it was a miracle that you could fit him completely. The intrusion had you feeling so full, but he was hitting every square inch of your cunt and you were on cloud nine. You picked up a good rhythm, earning praise from JJ as you did so.  
“There ya go, baby. Thaaat’s it,” he rasped, leaning back against the headboard to watch you work. His hands cupped your tits as they bounced, feeling your pert nipples rubbing against his palms. “Fuck. Me. Shit.” 
His favourite girl, the star of every single fantasy he’s ever had, was beautifully bare and in his lap, riding the fuck out of his cock. He denied the urge to shut his eyes, no matter how euphoric he felt, ‘cause he didn’t want to miss a single second.
Lost in the pleasure, your hands migrated from his built shoulders to his chest, and you clawed at him. He hissed but ultimately enjoyed the stinging feeling pricking at his skin. 
You could tell because, within a millisecond, his broad arms had enveloped your entire frame and started bucking his hips upward and taking control.
You gasped his name in shock, your own arms instinctively wrapping around him to hold on for dear life. 
“Shh, baby. Let me do the work. You just keep takin’ this cock like a good girl for me, ‘kay?”  
Oh, that mouth. That perfect, filthy mouth. You could’ve died right there if he let you. 
“Y-Yeah.” 
“Yeah, who? What’s my name in here, angel?” 
“D-Daddy.” 
And the cheeky fucker smirked. “Damn fuckin’ straight.” 
He flipped you onto your back, your bare skin hitting the thick comforter. His hands curled around the backs of your knees as he kept you spread wide open for him. His eyes couldn’t help but drift to where you two were connected, watching you swallow his cock whole. 
“Such a good fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “Jus’ keeps gettin’ wetter ‘n tighter f’me.” 
“Yes. Yes. All for you, Daddy. S’all for you,” you called out when he started to fuck you harder. He was animalistic with it, the lust and need for you going into overdrive. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. 
Your excitement only grew when JJ leaned forward, his deliciously carved frame hovering above yours. Thick arms caged you in, and large palms held your head up. His forehead leaned against yours, blue eyes holding yours captive in a hypnotizing fashion.
“Eyes on me, baby. Want your eyes on me when you cum.” 
He knew you were getting there, your cries only increasing in volume as your pussy coated him completely in your slick. Your walls were contracting, tightening around him and threatening to take his breath away.
He also knew that his words would go a long way right now, judging by the way you’d been reacting to them thus far. 
“Tired, aren’t you, baby? Tired of carrying all that weight on your shoulders?” He asked, his breath fanning over your lips as he panted. He littered soft pecks across your cheek when you nodded, an intoxicating juxtaposition from the savoury and harsh pounding he was giving you. “Yeah, I know, babygirl. Always workin’ so damn hard tryna take care of all of us. Jus’ need someone to take care a’you for a change, yeah? Need Daddy to do all the work ‘n make y’feel good? That right?” 
Don’t get him wrong. JJ was a feminist. You’d raised him right. But he always had the crippling need to do whatever he could to make your days lighter, make your life easier. 
And now, apparently, that included fucking the stress out of you until you couldn’t even remember what had caused it in the first place. 
He let out a breathy and proud chuckle when your walls started to clamp down harder on him. He had you right where he wanted you; clinging onto him like a koala and keeping his skin pressed to yours, crying from his gifted hip work, and teetering on the peak of your orgasm. 
“C-Close, J. So close,” you gasped out, chest heaving drastically.
“Let go, baby. Let it all go for me, yeah?” 
One of JJ’s hands snaked down to rub your clit in tight circles, and he watched flames ignite in your eyes at the added stimulation. The wind was knocked out of your lungs when the band deep in your core finally snapped.
“That’s fuckin’ right,” he encouraged, continuing to fuck you through your high. His was creeping up on him, and he selfishly started to go harder, faster. “‘M gonna cum. Where d’ya want it, baby? Your tits? Stomach?” 
“M-My mouth. Promised you’d fuck it, remember?” 
He grinned maniacally. The mere thought of fucking his cum down your throat, hearing your gags and watching more of those pretty tears stain your cheeks…nothing sounded better. 
“I never break my promises with you, angel. Y’know that.” He pulled out from you, lifting you into a seated position so he could reach your mouth. You struggled to keep yourself upright, clinging onto JJ’s thighs. You looked up at him, teary-eyed with your tongue out and waiting. “Could fuckin’ cum just from the way you look right now, swear to God.” 
He smacked his length against your hot tongue a few times before sliding in all the way. A shiver rippled through him in delight. “Fuckin’ hell. Where’s this mouth been all my life?” 
He throbbed wildly, twitching when your tongue slithered against the thick vein of his underside. It didn’t take long for him to start thrusting into your mouth, starting off slow but speeding up as his greed skyrocketed. His hands thread through your hair, holding your head in place. Spit was pooling out around him and down your chin, countless tears were escaping from your eyes. Your hair was a mess. But you’d never looked more gorgeous. 
You moaned around him, sending vibrations and little jolts through his entire body when he announced to you that he was close. You released your grip on one of his thighs, cupping and massaging his balls. He fucked deeper and deeper into your throat and soon, you watched him fall over the edge. A string of groans and curses fell from his lips, and he sounded better than anything you’d ever heard. 
Your favourite song of all time was now dethroned by the pornographic sounds emitting from the gorgeous and hypnotizing man in front of you. 
When he withdrew from your mouth and finally caught his breath, all he could do was beam down at you. His fingers scooped up the string of cum that clung to your lips and stuffed themselves into your mouth. You licked every last drop up and savoured it. 
Savoured him.
“‘N just when I thought you couldn’t drive me any crazier.” 
The world was different when JJ woke up. 
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and noticed the sun was shining, a nice contrast to the horrible weather from the previous night. He could hear birds chirping and the light breeze of wind flowing against the trees. But what was most different was the fact that you were curled up in his arms, smooth, bare skin pressed against his as you slept. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t cuddled before, but after last night’s escapades, the action just felt so much more intimate. He felt the smile growing on his face as the memories played in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten to kiss you, let alone partake in any of the other activities you two did. 
JJ looked down at you, his precious girl, watching your chest heave as you tried to regulate your breathing. You were glowing, your hair a little messy, but it made his heart skip a beat when he thought about how it’d gotten to that point. The ghost of a smile played on your lips while you watched him in wonder. 
JJ leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and closing his eyes as he did so. “Stay here. Gonna grab a towel so I can clean you up.” 
He started to move, but your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged. “Don’t go. Can you just…lay with me for a bit?” 
The combination of your sulky doe eyes and still kiss-swollen, pouted lips was all too much. He could never say no to you, but at that moment? You’d never looked more vulnerable, and he just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and shield you from anything that would make you look as sad as you did right now. 
“Yeah, pretty girl,” he assured you, getting situated under the covers and opening his arms wide for you. “C’mere. Not goin’ anywhere.” 
You smiled with a shy nod, instantly slotting yourself into his arms and resting your head on his chest. You nuzzled your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes as you let his presence envelope you. 
“You promise?” You asked quietly. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness when his fingers danced up and down your back. 
“I promise,” JJ said. His head came to lean atop yours, his cheek smushed against your hair. “Couldn’t leave you if I tried, princess.” 
You started to shift in his hold, a small groan escaping your lips. 
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he greeted, sweeping some baby hairs away from your face. How you managed to look so effortlessly beautiful all the time was beyond him. Not that he was complaining. “You sleep okay?” 
“Mhm,” you hummed, unable to stop your lips from curling upward. “You?”
“Slept great.” 
You peered up at him, and he was already looking down at you. The minute your eyes met, it was just as last night when the rest of the world went quiet. It was just you and your favourite boy, stuck in a bubble where for once, everything felt right. Where you and JJ felt so happy, that nothing could put a damper on things.
Until your bedroom door swung open, revealing your mother. Once her eyes landed on a shirtless JJ beside you, steam was coming out of her ears. 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” 
You sat up and held the sheets to your chest, keeping yourself covered up. “Mom, close the door!”
“Get up, get dressed, and get that pogue out of my house.”
“Always a pleasure, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 
She glared at him and slammed the door shut. You didn’t dare to look at JJ, completely mortified and ashamed of her behaviour. JJ sat up then, watching your teeth sink into your bottom lip the way they always did when you were deep in thought or stressed out. Without a second thought, he reached over, thumbing at your lip until it broke free from your teeth. 
“Stop that. Any harder ‘n you’ll bleed, babe.”
You gave him the tiniest glimpse of a smile. “Sorry.” 
You got up before he could respond, wrapping one of your sheets around your body and making your way to your bedroom door so you could lock it. Behind you, JJ also got up, slipping on his clothes before walking over to where you stood. 
“Hey,” he spoke, nudging your chin upward with his hooked index finger. “You okay?”
You nodded, slowly looking at him. “I’m just sorry about her.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me, alright? I don’t care about her, I just wanna make sure you’re good.” 
You nodded again wordlessly. It didn’t put JJ at ease. 
“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he told you. “Jus’ say the word ‘n I’ll stay.” 
You wanted to grab him and hold onto him for dear life. He was so sweet, too sweet for his own good. He always thought of you first, put you above everything else. It was nice, having someone do that for you for a change, but you couldn’t be selfish with him. So, you shook your head, looking downward and grabbing both of his hands. Your thumbs swiped over his knuckles as you mustered up the courage to let him go, knowing it was for the better. 
“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” 
It was clear JJ didn’t believe you, but he knew better than to push you when it came to your parents. “You sure?” 
“Yeah.” 
He stayed right where he was for a moment. He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave you to deal with the wrath of your mother alone. But he remembered the promise he’d made to himself; that he’d always do what you wished of him. 
He looked down at your joined hands, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. His gaze flitted back up to yours, and he nodded hesitantly. Breaking free from your grasp, he gathered his belongings. He walked over to you again, his hand cradling your face. Tilting your head down slightly, he kissed your forehead in goodbye. 
“I’ll come by ‘n see you later, alright?” 
“Okay,” you said. 
He nodded, letting go of you slowly and walking the few footsteps to your door. But then, he turned around, his hand pausing on the doorknob. “Y/N/N?” His chest fluttered nervously, and he took a deep breath. “There’s, uh, somethin’ I wanna tell you. Somethin’ I needa tell you.” 
You watched him intently, and a sense of anticipation bubbled in your stomach. “What is it, J?”
You grasped his hand gently, and his mouth went dry. You were in such a vulnerable place with your parents showing up out of the blue, and that was not how he wanted things to be when he told you he loved you for the first time. 
“Y’know what? It’s nothin’. Forget it. I’ll see you tonight.” 
With that, he exited your bedroom, leaving both you and himself with heavy hearts. 
“Well, well. Look who’s finally decent,” your mother commented when you entered the kitchen fully dressed. 
You chose to ignore her comment. “What are you doing here, Mom? I thought the ferry wasn’t running.” 
“We took the jet and flew to the airstrip. Honestly, Y/N, it’s a miracle you can brush your teeth in the morning.” 
You held back your impending eye-roll.
“Is your little friend gone?” 
“Yes, Mom. JJ’s gone.” 
And you’d never needed him more. 
“Good. I knew that boy made you act like a child but I never thought that you’d throw everything we’ve given you away for someone with no potential and a criminal record.” 
And there it was. 
Any time your parents even thought they caught a glimpse of your blonde best friend, they were quick to pick out all his ‘flaws.’ Right off the bat, even as a child, they’d never respected him due to his pogue status. As if it were his fault, like he’d chosen his life himself. As if he’d chosen to be stuck with a father who’d never shown him love a day in his life. 
As if they had room to talk. 
Because the truth of the matter was, everything parents were supposed to do for their children — support them, comfort them, make them believe that they could be any and everything they wanted to be — wasn’t done by your parents. 
They were done by JJ.
If you hadn’t had JJ, you wouldn’t have known what unconditional love was. 
He was the one who reminded you that you could conquer the world. He’d held you through lonely nights, patched up your cuts and bruises when you were clumsy, helped you study (though he didn’t even study himself), and never failed to remind you that you were adored by him. 
So, when your mother dared to speak on JJ as if she had ever really tried to know him, it boiled your blood. “Where do you get off talking about him like that? He’s done more for me than you and Dad ever have.” 
The fire in your tone made your mother get up from her seat at the table immediately. She downed the contents of her glass — presumably scotch — and nearly slammed the glass on the table. 
“Is that so?” She scoffed. Steam practically shot out of your ears when she looked at you. “So he put you up in this house? He paid for all your foolish little dance lessons and bought you that Benz sitting in the driveway?” 
“That’s not what I—”
“I don’t care what you meant. You paint us out to be the villains in your life when we’ve done nothing but support you and give you everything you’ve ever dared to wish for.” 
“Support me?!Areyou delusional? When have you two ever supported me?”
Financially? Yes. Emotionally? Mentally? Likely story. 
“Don’t start. I’m simply speaking the truth. Now, tomorrow night, I expect you to stop acting like a spoiled brat and drop the attitude.” 
Your brows furrowed. “What’s tomorrow?”
“Last night, your father and I were at dinner with some colleagues, discussing the horrible storm and what it’s done to the southside of the island. They said they’d love to help support the people down there, and so your father came up with the brilliant idea to throw a benefit for The Cut.” 
Your parents wanted to help the pogues of the island? Were you dreaming? 
“It’s wonderful publicity for our company. We’ve been looking for an opportunity like this for weeks.” 
Nevermind. You were wide awake. 
“That being said, your father and I have informed the Huntzbergers that their son would be your date. You remember Logan, don’t you? He asked for you. I can’t fathom why, but what does it matter?” 
You’d met Logan many times over the years, the two of you being dragged by your parents to banquets, dinners, golf games, and so on. He was sweet, with a good sense of humour and a very handsome face if you were being honest. You’d always had the suspicion that he liked you, but obviously, those feelings had never been reciprocated. Not when a certain blonde troublemaker had plucked your heart right out of your chest and never given it back. 
A true kleptomaniac. 
“Mom, I can’t be Logan’s date.” 
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me this is because of the Maybank boy.” Your silence and shifty look were enough to answer her. “Oh, honey. You don’t think that the two of you are together now, do you? He got what he wanted from you. You’ll never be anything more than an easy lay to him.” 
Though the morning had been tumultuous at best, your mind hadn’t even gone there. Not once. In fact, it’d been the opposite. You weren’t foolish enough to believe that JJ would profess his undying love for you, but you certainly didn’t think he’d up and leave now that he’d been with you. 
Would he? 
As the thoughts consumed you, you were once again reminded that every time you’d found an ounce of happiness, your parents were always quick to rip it from your grasp and stomp on it for good measure. 
“So, back to what I was saying. Please do not embarrass us. Wear something slimming.” She moved closer to you, tapping your hip. “You’re looking a little wide. Let’s hope you aren’t pregnant with the poor pogue’s child.” 
Without looking back, she exited the room, leaving you alone to chew on her words in the oh-so-familiar silence. 
JJ spent his entire shift at the auto shop convincing himself that tonight would be the night he finally fessed up. It’d always been so difficult for him; pushing his feelings for you so deep inside and ensuring that they’d never escape, but something had changed. Maybe it had been the events that had taken place the night before, or maybe it was the utter disappointment he’d felt in himself all day long after not confessing earlier on. 
He hopped in his truck, swinging down to the pier so he could grab a bouquet from your favourite flower cart. He might not have been a renowned romantic, but his girl was special, and she deserved to be treated as such. Though he stayed there for a while, scratching the back of his neck with a stressed look on his face, he eventually settled on a carefully wrapped set that he thought you’d like. 
A mixture of anticipation, nerves and excitement bubbled in his system. He hoped he wasn’t setting himself up for failure. But with the way you looked at him yesterday, shimmering stars in your eyes and the most gorgeous yet shy smile playing on your lips, it was hard not to let himself begin to trust the impossible. 
Maybe his dreams were within his reach after all. 
He let himself inside your house, skillfully sneaking past your parents (who were busy in planning mode) and making his way up to your empty room. He could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom and could see dozens of dresses littered across the floor accompanied by a few pairs of shoes. Half of him wondered if there’d been a tornado that only hit your closet. 
He was aching to get a glimpse of the girl who had spent the day taking up every one of his thoughts. Seeing you and being with you felt like home. A home someone would have to pry from his cold, dead hands because he’d rather die than ever let you go. 
“Y/N/N? You here?” 
When you emerged from the bathroom, JJ swore the wind was knocked out of him. His eyes trailed down your elegant frame, your curves clad in a dress he hadn’t seen you in before. Your hair was natural, and you were bare-faced, but JJ believed you could walk a damn red carpet looking the way you did and capture the eyes and hearts of everyone in that room. 
“Woah…” he breathed, awestruck. 
“Hi.” 
Your eyes were sad, and your lips were in a pout, but your tone would’ve been enough on its own to tell him that something had upset you. Reaching out for you, his warm hands found your hips and pulled you to him.  
“You make sad look beautiful, princess.” 
You smiled a little at his words before wrapping your arms around his torso and melting into him. “Thanks.” 
He hugged you back, completely void of hesitation. He took the time to drown in your scent. It was incredibly fitting; sweet and hypnotic, just like you. 
“What’s the matter?” 
You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s not a big deal. I’m just being sensitive.” 
“Hey,” he said, pulling away from you a little so he could look you in the eye. “It’s a big deal to me if it’s bothering you.” 
God, how did he do that? He could convince you to unload everything on him with a few words and that look in his eye that made you feel as if he wanted to know every single detail running around in your mind. Pair that with the warm loving touch he was smoothing over you, calloused palms rubbing your sides up and down a few times, and your words came leaking out of you like a faucet.
“Does this dress look right on me? It’s okay, you can be honest. I just need an opinion I can trust.” 
JJ felt a crack in his heart when those words left your lips. You wouldn’t even look at him, you just stared at the floor beneath your feet and smoothed out the fabric around your hips over and over as if you viewed yourself as anything less than perfection. 
You were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. There wasn’t a single thing about you that he wasn’t crazy about. 
That he didn’t dream about. 
Tipping your face up by your chin and forcing your eyes on him so you could really hear what he was about to tell you, he spoke. 
“Pretty girl, y’almost killed me when you walked through that door.” 
“Really?” 
JJ couldn’t tell if he wanted to hug you so tight that you’d end up stuck to him, or kiss the daylights out of you when he saw that spark of hope light your face up. “Really. You look perfect.”
You smiled that adorable, bashful smile, the one you always gave him when he calmed your mind and silenced your doubts. 
Little did you know that he’d sell everything he owned to keep that smile there for eternity. If only you would’ve seen the lovestruck look JJ was giving you. There might as well’ve been hearts floating around his head. 
However, your eyes were too busy looking at the splash of springtime colours against the white backsplash of your bedding. You felt your smile grow into a grin at the gorgeous bouquet lying there, and your eyes finally moved back onto the tall blonde in front of you. 
“You got me flowers?” 
“Uh, y-yeah.” 
It was JJ’s turn to be bashful. He scratched his brow, trying to hide his now rosy cheeks as he turned around to grab the bouquet. He handed them to you carefully, and he could hear his heart thumping wildly as you stared down at them adoringly. 
“You got me flowers.”
“It’s not a big deal. Jus’ swung by your favourite shop after work.”
Jesus, had you always made him this nervous?
You cradled the flowers in one arm, and let your free hand grab his. You tugged at it, silently telling him to come closer. You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. 
“You got me flowers, J.” 
The act of getting flowers was out of the ordinary for him. It seemed so…romantic. That’s not to say that he hasn’t bore his heart to you, ‘cause he had, but this…this was different. 
At least, it felt different. 
“Look, I jus’ thought, y’know…a girl as special as you deserves flowers.”
Oh, if you could’ve kissed him, you would’ve done so until you both ran out of oxygen. Maybe even longer. Even if it meant that you’d perish because of it. 
But, you couldn’t, so you settled on pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” 
“Yeah,” he breathed. Then, he cleared his throat when he realized he might’ve been staring at you too long. “So, what’s the fancy getup for?” 
“Oh, right,” you spoke. “My parents decided to pimp me out tomorrow night.” 
His eyes almost bulged out of his head. “I beg your finest pardon?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh. Between the look on his face and his tone, he was making it impossible not to. “They’re throwing some benefit here for the Cut tomorrow night, and Logan asked for me to be his date. You remember Logan, right?” 
You spun around, grabbing your empty vase off the dresser and heading back into your bathroom to fill it up. Meanwhile, JJ was stuck in place, his mind buffering. 
Date? Did he hear that right? 
When he came to, he was quick to follow you. “You— Wait— Huh?” 
“Logan Huntzberger? I told you that story about how we snuck onto that boat once with a bottle of champagne and got busted by the owners, remember?”
“That’s not the part I’m confused about, Y/N.” 
His tone was more icy than he intended, but he couldn’t help but feel something like rage boiling and brewing in his core. You didn’t seem to notice, though, and if you did, you didn’t show it. Instead, you unwrapped the bouquet cautiously and placed the flowers into the vase. You were about to pass him and the threshold back into your bedroom when his hard curled around your bicep. 
“You’re goin’ on a date?” 
You gave him a weird look. “He just wants to escort me to this thing tomorrow. And to be honest, there’s safety in numbers. My parents will be so focused on him that they’ll forget about me.”
His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours as he let go of you. “You coulda just asked me.”
A chuckle escaped your lips as you placed the full vase back where it belonged. “You hate kook shit like this.” 
“I woulda came for you. You didn’t need to say yes to some spoiled rich kid.” 
“I didn’t say yes to him. My mom and dad did,” you reminded him. You walked up to him, arms crossing your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling very open and vulnerable. “Why are you being like this? You know how they are.” 
“‘M not bein’ like anythin’,” he denied. He moved away from you, grabbing his bag off your bed. “I gotta go.” 
He didn’t know what he was doing. He just knew he had to get out of there before he exploded on you and ruined everything. How could you be going on a date with someone else when JJ was ready to tell you that he wanted you forever? 
You grabbed his arm this time around. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away from me. Just talk to me.” 
JJ couldn’t stay. He felt sick. He felt like he wanted to strangle someone.
Okay, fine. Not just anyone. 
Logan. 
And maybe your dad, too.
“Have fun tomorrow, alright?” 
JJ made his second escape of the day much quicker than he had with his first, practically poofing into thin air right before your eyes. You wanted to chase after him, beg him to just let you in instead of running away from you, but you knew getting him to open up wasn’t that easy. He’d have to want to come to you. So you just stood there, watching the doorframe hoping he’d come back, and growing utterly disappointed when he didn’t. 
After the events at your home, JJ had decided to crash at John B’s. He thought being around him and the group would help take his mind off things, but all he could focus on was the void he felt without you beside him. 
That night he had been even worse. He tossed and turned restlessly all night, never the one to be able to sleep without you in his presence. He needed to hear your rhythmic breathing and feel your warmth as you curled into his side in your slumber. It’s like his mind was never at rest unless he was with you. 
The next day had dragged on, your date with Logan being the only thing on his mind from the minute he’d opened his eyes. He went to work, though he was clearly somewhere else mentally. He’d gotten scolded a few times, but he failed to remember why. Then, his bike broke down on the way back home, so he walked to Sarah’s house, hoping to catch a ride. He eventually made it, but was greeted by a party he had completely forgotten the group had planned. 
JJ had half a mind to turn back and just go home. All he wanted to do was slump into a chair on his porch, smoke a joint and try to forget about the shittiest day he’d had in a long while. But he was far too exhausted to make that trip, and why go all the way home when he could get shitfaced instead? It’d help him forget just the same. 
Right?
Wrong. 
As the intoxication began to take over him, so did the thoughts of you. 
Why did he walk away? Why didn’t he just open his mouth and say something? 
‘I love you. I’m in love with you, and you can’t be with anyone else because you should be with me.’ 
That’s all he had to say. 
And he blew it. 
The group groaned around him when he started to rant about you and your date again. He’d been rambling on and on, causing a few people in the circle to leave so they wouldn’t have to hear yet another string of complaints fall from his lips. 
“And it’s jus’ like, of course she’d ch-choose him,” he hiccupped into his red solo cup. “He’s like, rich ‘n loaded ‘n-n stacked.” 
Pope rolled his eyes. “Those all mean the same thing, J.” 
“Well, y’know what ‘m tryna say. He can give her everything. He could prolly buy her the planet. I could never do that.” 
Sarah watched her friend wallow in his drunken sorrows, and she felt saddened for him. She had always known how much JJ loved you. She could see it in his eyes the first time she saw you two together. He’d bleed himself dry for you, and there was never any question about it. 
“Okay,” she cooed, getting up from her seat and plucking his cup from his hand. “Think you’ve had enough, JJ. C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”
JJ grumbled out a few protests, but Sarah ignored them, asking John B to help her lead JJ to one of the guest rooms. They managed to get him tucked into bed, and when his eyes fluttered shut, they figured they were okay to leave. 
Unfortunately, not even a half hour later, JJ woke up. He was still way past intoxicated, but he stumbled into the kitchen in search of another bottle. He almost came up dry until he saw a bottle of whiskey less than a quarter full. He chugged down the remaining contents, and instantly made a hasty exit, his boots dragging against the pavement as he walked. 
Though he was drunk, his feet led him in a familiar direction. He knew where he longed to be, where he needed to be. 
He arrived at your house, clambering his way to your door and ignoring the nasty looks he’d gotten from your parents friends and colleagues. He pushed the door open, tripping over the threshold but managing to keep himself upright. He made his way through the house, and his mind quieted when his eyes finally landed on you. He was elated for all of five seconds because then he saw Logan’s hand find your waist. He pulled you closer to him, angling his head down slightly. 
Absolutely-fucking-not. 
“Hey! Keep your hands off my damn girl!” 
Your eyes, Logan’s, and countless other partygoers’ all shot over to JJ. He was stumbling and had almost taken out one of the serves as he made his way over to you. 
“J? What are you doing here?” 
JJ ignored your words and your hands on his chest as he pointed an accusatory finger at your date. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch her again.” 
“JJ, stop! You’re drunk!” You shout in a whisper, pushing him back a little now. 
“You don’t know her. You haven’t spent your whole life loving her and making sure she had someone. You aren’t there to remind her to eat when she gets stressed, ‘c-cause she always forgets. ‘N you aren’t there when she cries, ‘n your heart doesn’t break when she does. You’re nothin’.” 
More eyes were now on the three of you, and before you knew it, your parents were making their way over to you. 
“Enough, Maybank. Get out of this house before I throw you out,” your father snarled. 
“Dad, stop it!” 
“You,” JJ said, turning his attention to your parents. “You two are the worst of ‘em all. Throwin’ this bullshit party when you’re never even here. You care about the cut? You don’t even care about your damn daughter!” 
“JJ, enough! Let’s go!” You pleaded, trying to pull him. 
He freed his arm from your grasp. “No, Y/N/N, everyone needs to hear this. They need to know they’re supportin’ two people who think it’s fun to body shame their daughter and remind her time and time again that they couldn’t care less about her. They didn’t even go to your graduation, Y/N/N. You worked your ass off, ‘n they couldn’t even be bothered to send you a damn card! Never mind the last five birthdays of yours that they missed. They’re pieces of shit, ‘n all their friends should know it!” 
“You’re lucky I don’t call the cops!” 
“Go ‘head. Call ‘em. Call ‘em ‘n tell ‘em that you’re arresting me for defending your daughter.” 
“That’s it,” you mumbled to yourself. You grabbed JJ, pulling him hard this time. “Come with me, now.” 
JJ’s voice got quieter the further away you dragged him, but it was clear enough. “‘M not done with you, Y/F/N!” 
Luckily, Logan had come to your aid, helping you haul JJ up the stairs. It wasn’t an easy feat, as JJ had been swatting him away the entire way up. The two of you finally got him into your room, and you told Logan to rejoin the party. JJ sunk into your bed, and you tucked him under the sheets before handing him a water bottle. He pouted, not wanting to drink it, but relented when he saw the look on your face. 
“Are you mad?” 
You ignored his words, continuing to help him get settled. You were trying hard to bite your tongue because you knew that even if you scolded him, he most likely wouldn’t remember a single thing you said. That, and you could tell he was hurting. That’s the only reason he would’ve gotten this drunk. 
“Uh oh. You’re mad. ‘M soo in trouble.” 
“Tomorrow, JJ. Go to sleep.” 
His big blue eyes sulked at you, though they were a tad hazy, and he latched onto your hand after you smoothed some hair from his eyes. “‘M sorry. ‘M just sad.”
You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. “It’s okay, J. Now sleep.” 
He tapped his right cheek, silently asking you for a kiss there. You did as he requested, unable to refuse him, but not without an eye roll. Then he repeated his taps on his other cheek. You kissed him there too. The cycle continued with his forehead, and then his nose. When you were done, he tried his luck, tapping his puckered lips. 
To that, you laughed softly. “Nice try, Maybank.”
— 
If you could pay someone to pluck the memories of the previous night from your brain, you’d fork over all the cash you could muster. JJ’s behaviour, your embarrassment, apologizing to Logan profusely…. 
Yeah. 
You’d erase all of it. 
Mad and anxious as you were, though, you couldn’t stop thinking about how your ‘date’ had only made things more abundantly clear; you would forever be in love with JJ. 
All night long, you knew Logan was trying to charm you. He was the perfect gentleman. He helped you down the stairs in your heels, guided you through the crowd, and got your drinks for you. Talked to you about your interests and actually, genuinely cared about what you had to say. But with every touch of his, all you could feel was the ghost of JJ’s and the trails of fire he’d left behind every time his skin brushed against yours. Could smell his familiar scent of weed, sea salt and some high-end cologne he’d snatched from a party on Figure 8, in place of the cologne that Logan had spritzed on himself. And when Logan tried to kiss you, you couldn’t even think about it. Because the truth was, you knew it would never compare to the sliver of heaven you’d ascended to when JJ’s mouth was on yours.  
Your mind moved over to the boy you’d tucked into your bed last night, and a pang of worry hit you. Yes, you were still mad, at least partly, but you couldn’t focus on that. All you could focus on was your concern for him. 
What was he battling? And why did he feel as if he couldn’t approach you about it? Didn’t he know by now that you’d stand by him through anything? 
Didn’t he know by now that he wasn’t alone? 
A loud clang in the kitchen caught your attention, and you decided to head down to investigate. You were also in desperate need of a cup of coffee. 
You hadn’t expected to find JJ moving around your kitchen less-than-expertly during what would probably go down as the worst hangover known to man, but the sight that greeted you was nothing but endearing. 
There he was, your best friend, surrounded by a chaotic array of ingredients and bowls and utensils. Flour dusted the tips of his blonde (now white) strands, there was a smear of what you assumed was batter across the apple of his cheek, and his clothes looked even worse off than his face. 
Still, his tongue was poked out adorably while he concentrated on the soon-to-be-cooked ingredients in front of him. 
“J?” You chuckled softly, unable to suppress your smile at the sight before you. 
JJ’s eyes flit up to yours abruptly, a worried and panicked look spreading across his face. You could see the dark circles, and his voice was slightly hoarse when he spoke. 
“Shit! You’re supposed to be in bed!” He rushed over to you, hands finding your shoulders with ease and trying to urge you to spin back around. “You gotta go back up.” 
Your amusement was clear on your face as you looked around at the mess. “I don’t think that’s wise, J.” 
JJ scratched the back of his neck, huffing frustratedly. His eyes weren’t as bright as usual, noticeably clouded by shame. “I jus’ wanted to apologize for last night. I thought makin’ breakfast would maybe help me get back on your good side.” 
Your heart softened at his sincerity, your annoyance from the previous night now dissipating at his intentions. “You’re always on my good side. I just wish you’d talk to me about what’s going on instead of completely dodging me and getting blackout drunk just ‘cause you’re avoiding things.” 
You’d always known him so well. Most times, you knew him better than himself. That being said, JJ should’ve known that you’d figure him out the minute he showed up at your house. He messed up terribly. He knew he embarrassed you, he knew he might’ve ruined the party and angered your parents beyond belief. But right now, he knew that even after all those things, they’d never stop you from worrying for him and making sure he was good on all fronts. 
He definitely didn’t deserve you, but at that moment, he decided; he was going to keep you anyway. 
“You’re way too good for me.” JJ’s flour-dusted hand cupped your cheek, and he looked down at you with all the love he could muster up, and then some. “You’re way too good for me, and I fell in love with you anyway.”
Your heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air, and you blinked, momentarily taken aback by the confession you’d spent nearly your entire life yearning for, yet never expected to hear. 
“You’re…you’re in love with me?” You repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes searched his, and now, they were as clear and sincere as ever. 
JJ nodded earnestly. “After that night, when I showed up with those flowers…I was gonna tell you. ‘N then you told me about your date with Logan ‘n I jus’ freaked ‘cause I could feel myself losin’ you to this, like, superior guy who could give you everythin’ I couldn’t.” 
“J…” you trailed off sadly in a whisper. 
“It’s always been us, y’know? Two peas in a shitty-parents-pod. But even on my worst days with Luke…it never mattered, ‘cause I had you. ‘N when I thought about you leavin’ me…Y/N/N, I couldn’t even stomach it. Then I kinda went off the deep end.”
You grabbed his hands with urgency. “I could never leave you, J. Never.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you confirmed with a soft voice. “I love you too much.” 
JJ’s gaze searched yours, his eyes mixed with hope and trepidation. “For real?”
“Yes, for real, dummy. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and your heart pounded in your chest at your confession. But this time, it wasn’t with nerves or fear, it was one hundred percent, wholeheartedly with love. 
“So, does that mean I can finally kiss you again?” 
Even at his most vulnerable, this cheeky boy could still whip out a boyish smirk on command. This only prompted you to toy with him a little, just to get back at him. 
“And what makes you think I’m gonna kiss you, Maybank?” 
His hands surged toward your hips, and he pulled you impossibly closer while licking his lips. “I know you, remember? ‘N after the other night, I know what you look like when you want to.” 
Damn, he was good. 
Your arms looped around the back of his neck, and you threw him a daring look. “So do it.” 
He didn’t have to be told twice. His lips found yours, and you stood there for some time, just drowning each other without anything holding you back this time. Things couldn’t have been more perfect. 
He couldn’t have been more perfect.
Just like that, the two of you were home. And you’d never dare to leave. 
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© MOREMAYBANK, 2024
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spiderling-space · 4 years ago
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Could you please write Hcs for an Mc who is the twst version of Elsa and what the dorm leaders think of her.
Uhhhh an Elsa request 🌚🌚 I’m quite excited about a request for Elsa!MC as I love hippie queen Elsa. Thanks for that! I’m a Helsa shipper and I’ve written fics (one of them hasn’t been updated since 14/02/2020 lol), headcanons, crack AU (there is twilight one sdfghj), incorrect quotes etc... One of the Helsa AUs I love is the genderbent AU. I saved a few of them in my OG blog, I can share all of genderbent frozen characters’ links here which can be imagined what if they were in Twisted Wonderland. Just gonna share this one because I got that as a gift for Valentine’s Day
I added Elsa!MC’s relationship with the dorm leaders in some headcanons. I was too excited for Elsa!MC that I focused on MC in this post.
MC/Yuu
It is not where MC imagined waking up, inside of a place more confined than her room. It is overwhelming and she has no idea how she ended up there. Certainly, it cannot be her mother and father as they wouldn’t do that without telling her... right? Maybe she didn’t realize her powers got out of control while her parents did so they put her more confined place.
All these thoughts are racing in her head, not even hearing the commotion coming outside where she is, only realizes it when a door is opened and she falls from a little high place. When she sees Grimm, she doesn’t believe her eyes first then she remembers the trolls then she sees his magic. It’s similar yet opposite magic of hers, fire magic. She is fascinated by it but she can’t be near another destructive power like hers and also Grimm wants to take her clothes which is something she certainly cannot do! Her gloves especially! 
MC starts running when she notices that she isn’t wearing her gloves, leaving an icy trail behind.
When she is found out, she is dragged down by some suspicious man. She tries to explain that she is too dangerous but he doesn’t listen. She doesn’t want to hurt him accidentally like she did with her sister.
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know, be the good girl you always have to be; she repeats herself to not freeze the weird bird guy.
When she is pushed in front of the mirror, it says “This one’s soul does not fit Night Raven Collage” then the other magical creature that wanted her clothes wants to take her place. The creature spits fire everywhere and someone yells “Duck!”. 
MC is panicked, suddenly pulling her hands over her face to cover but the blow never hits as she froze the magical creature when she moved her hands.
“I’m sorry, sorry” MC repeats.
She accidentally freezes the ghosts when they are materialized but they phase through the ice.
She panics when fighting the first overblot monster, she would rather make herself an ice castle and live there even if the food and toilet would be problem but Dire sends her in that mission, saying that it will help her open up. Though she can swear that she heard him mutter “testing her abilities.”
After the first overblot fight, MC gains a new perspective of her powers, protecting instead of destroying.
MC asks if she can attend the classes online like she did in her world because she doesn’t want to be around people but her proposal is refused. Dire assures her that the teachers and the classes would help her to return home while learn about controlling her powers. She agrees, has to agree but she still prefers online learning. She hears that another person in the school wants it so she decides to meet him so they can maybe convince Dire for online classes. Idia agrees but neither were able to convince Dire.
MC gains confidence after learning about the magic, fighting overblots and gaining friends.
She doesn’t want to play Magift but she does for her friends. She freezes the ground of rival team in this case Savanaclaw and freezes them up to their hips but they need more as Savanaclaw has better physical abilities and more magic control.
She feels Riddle’s pain as she got subjected to a similar thing for a different reason.
MC also understands Malleus’ loneliness as she was also alone for another reason. Their nightly walk is precious to her and one of the things that helped her to open up.
When she feels confident enough, she signs up for the singing competition of NRC. She writes a song based on her life but adds victorian era royalty so it won’t be exact same as her story.
MC wears confined clothing and makes a small snow hill and a small scale snow storm on stage as a prop. She starts walking on the snow hill and starts singing. “Now they know...” She takes off her gloves. She makes a small ice bridge then an ice castle as she continues to sing then she changes her clothes with magic. “Cold never bothered me anyway,” She says, closing the castle door and leaving the stage.
She wins the competition much to Vil contempt. Now she got in his radar. On the other hand, Azul offers her a job, singing in Mostro Lounge which she accepts and forms a strange bond with Azul, Floyd and Jade.
MC says “Glaciers are rivers of ice” and gets a deadpan expression from Azul and Jade while Floyd laughs “Shrimpy isn’t making sense.” Meanwhile, Azul says “We have seen glaciers every year, they are not rivers of ice.” However, MC ignores them and adds “Water has memory so ice has memory too.” Azul just gives up at that point. He thinks she is using Jade’s mushrooms.
Before she gained self confidence and interacted people more, she wasn’t able to handle Kalim but the new her enjoys spending time with him. She teaches him snow games such as snow ball, ice skating, sliding on the ice...
Leona didn’t care for MC as long as she didn’t use her powers. Cold and he don’t get along. After she gained confidence, she started to play with ice and snow more and dropping the temperature of some places, much to his dread.
MC gets comfortable with herself one day and she feels the calling of the woods. So she follows that calling. 
MC starts living in the forest of NRC instead of Ramshackle despite leaving Grim all alone there, though there are ghosts. She found herself in the woods
Now Azul is certain that she consumes Jade’s strange mushrooms.
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milkacchan · 5 years ago
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Request for anon: Bakugou and the reader are best friends --that he refuses to admit he's in love with-- but when it comes to other dudes, he acts like their guard dog. He overhears some jerks laughing about it calling the reader names and saying he could have anyone else in his class and goes off. The reader catches him fighting and stops it wondering what got into him but he refuses to tell them
2 things before we start
1. I'm gonna start doing tagging, so comment if you want to be tagged on the next posts. Starting out with 10 tags.
2. I listened to the song home by Catie Turner while I was writing this bc I wanted to be in my feels. So put that song on repeat while you read it.
Bakugou Katsuki honestly had no intentions of falling in love. He didn't have intentions of being friends with anyone really. Obviously Kirishima changed that- with the Bakusquad. But with you he fell deeper than he meant to with friends.
But Bakugou Katsuki was in deep. He was in so deep. And he fucking hated it but he wouldn't change it for the damn world.
Bakugou Katsuki, could not see himself with anyone but you. He's in full denial about it, of course. He could have any girl in the class, school even. Girls doted on him. His first year not so much, but after valentines day during his second year, he noticed (you did too) that women flocked to him. Some of them were cute, he'd admit, but if he tried to picture himself with any of them he felt weird. Sick almost. He figured it was just because he didnt know them- or he didnt want a relationship at the moment. But then came the fatal mistake.
You'd made him lunch, his favorite to be exact. You made him snacks every once in a while but this was new. You gave it to him, telling him it was extra from your lunch and walked away. He smiled to himself at the thought of making lunch for him, because you wanted to, not because it was extra- and that's when it happened. He thought of himself with you. This time he didnt feel weird, he didn't feel sick, he felt content, happy.
He ate his lunch that day in silence, away from the rest of his friends, hidden in the 1-A classroom. Aizawa didn't question it.
He tells his mom and his mom only. He'd be damned if shitty hair found out. He'd be even more damned if Mina or Kaminari found out because the two couldn't keep their mouths shut for the life of them.
"Katsuki you have a crush."
"Great, how do I get rid of it?"
"You don't? Katsuki have you never had a crush before?"
"Absolutely not."
"Wow, i just assumed you'd kept them from me and your father like every other teen."
"No I just don't have feelings, hag."
For the next half hour, he and his mother discuss what he could do. If he would do anything.
"Does she like you back?"
"How the fuck would I know?"
"Has she done anything out of the ordinary?"
"I mean she made lunch for me yesterday."
"Wow shes literally in love with you."
"Shut UP."
"Katsu, why dont you try making a move? They flirting?"
"Because she doesn't like me and I don't feel like dealing with rejection."
His mother sighed.
He went to school the next day, unsure of how to proceed when he spoke to you. How would it go down in the dorms? Theoretically he could just deny any attraction to you and be on his way- but he didnt want to loose you. He didn't want you out of his life, he knew that much. So he settled for just treating you as he always had.
However, when it came to other boys- he was on top of it. Just because he woukdnt make a move on you, didnt mean he'd let the greasy boys that flocked you. You deserved better than them. You knew it too. You were quietly thankful for his protection against unwanted attention from the boys.
He could pick up your signs of gratitude and he had no intention to stop. Especially when he heard guys talking, about you specifically.
Just listening to the words that oozed put of his mouth about you pissed him off.
"I could have any girl in the school." The boy scoffed. "Especially her- god I bet she's really fucking easy. She's never had a boyfriend and based on her personality it wouldn't be hard to hit it and leave-"
Katsuki had never swung on someone so quick in his life. His body acted before he could even think. Asshole boy stumbled back a little before lunging for Katsuki, grabbing his shirt and throwing his bodyweight on him to push him back. However- it wasn't really a match for him. A kid from the business class against Katsuki bakugou- part of the great three? No.
He refrained from using his quirk, knowing this- you'd rubbed off on him more than he cared to admit. But that didn't stop his fist from coming down on his face.
"Don't you DARE talk about her like that- she's not a fuckin object for your enjoyment you asshole-" He growled, his fist making contact with his face again.
"Katsu!" A voice yelled before he was being pulled off. A gentle hand cupped his cheek and turned his head. You. He saw you- through the red there was you. "What are you doing?" You ask softly- bowing slightly in apology before dragging him off.
He didn't say anything as he was lead down the hallway. That guy deserved what happened. He deserved every second of it.
"Katsu? Katsu- are you listening?"
"Hm?"
"I was asking if you were okay. Your cheek is bruised." You stopped, gently touching his cheek.
You were always concerned with his wellbeing. How he was- before anything you made sure he was okay. Regardless of the circumstances- before he was scolded or cursed out, you made sure he was okay. Physically and mentally.
"'M fine." He mumbled, looking down. "M okay."
You nodded, leading him down the hallway once more- walking into the dorm. You grabbed something from the kitchen and then lead him to your room, having him sit on the bed.
"Katsu, what happened?" You mumbled, sitting next to him and pressing and ice pack (wrapped in a thin shirt) to his cheek. He struggled to not lean into it.
In all honesty, all he wanted to do what high you. He had this overwhelming feeling to hold you, bury his face in your neck and just stay there.
"Nothing. Just a brawl." He muttered, unmoving '
"A brawl? Really."
"Yeah. A brawl."
"Well something started 'your brawl'. You gonna tell me what it was?"
"I'm telling you it was nothing. Don't worry about it." He couldn't tell you- he didn't want you to feel weird or self concious. He knew how words from people affected you, even though you fought on and on to ignore them and keep them from affecting you. There was too much going on in your head to completely ignore them, even subconsciously.
"It is something though! Because you're hurt. That other guy, a douche bag I'm sure, is hurt."
"He deserved it."
"Why?"
"Why are you so concerned with it."
"Because you're hurt! I know it's not very hero like- but I couldnt care less about his injuries. You are my priority. And I walk into you in a beatdown-"
Katsuki pushed the ice pack away from his cheek. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. He wasn't expecting much after that- so when your hand came to play with his hair and the other holding his back, he felt like he was going to cry.
God he was so fucking in love with you. It made him want to scream- why would you ever want to he with him? Why were you doing this?
"I just want to make sure you're okay." She whispered.
"M okay. You don't have to worry about me."
"Doesn't mean I won't. I always worry about you Suki. I don't think that's going to stop." You continued threading your fingers through his hair.
"Then I'll be here, to remind your dumbass I'm okay."
"I know you will." You whispered. "Katsu, look at me." You mumbled- voice unsteady. He frowned and slowly lifted his head up. You were looking at him with such intensity in your eyes, he was unsure why.
You leanws forward, gently pressing your lips to his- ah that's why. He was surprised for a moment- stilling unmoving. You pulled away.
"Sorry- I guess that was uncalled-" he wouldnt let you finish, his lips were back on yours, pulling you close. You leaned into him, eye closed, guard down. Just you and him.
"I can't see myself with anyone but you." He grumbled, when he finally pulled away, lips inches apart. "I never have been able to."
"Good." You smiled softly. "I don't want you with anyone else."
@kirahhhh
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thelastspeecher · 4 years ago
Text
The Six Senses - Chapter 4: Ugly Things in the Darkness
Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   AO3
It’s been three years since I posted Chapter 3 of this fic.  And now, I’m finally finishing it!  I had a lot of ideas and plans to do more than just four chapters, but inspiration is a fickle mistress, and I ran up against basically a wall.  Not to mention, while I was working on this last chapter, my Word doc kept freezing, so I think the Universe is trying to tell me to end the fic here.
Enjoy.
---
Summary: The assault on the company.
Ugly things in the darkness Worse things in store In the declining years Of the long war - The Mountain Goats, “In the Craters on the Moon”
——————————————————————————————
              Shermie’s van came to a stop outside a small, cozy cabin. Stan, Ford, Fiddleford, and Shermie got out.  Ford eyed the cabin.
              “Really?  This is where the kid lives?” he asked.
              “I think it looks lovely,” Shermie said. “Small, but homey.”
              “It’s the size that’s throwing Ford for a loop,” Stan explained, leaning against the van.  “The place is barely big enough for Dan’s voice.”  Shermie frowned.  “You’ll see.  Let’s head inside.”  The four headed for the cabin.  Just as Stan raised a hand to knock, the door opened, revealing Wendy.  Wendy beamed up at Stan.
              “Uncle Stan!” she chirped.  Stan scooped her into his arms with a playful growl.
              “Hey there, little gremlin,” he cooed.  Wendy giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. “Where are your parents?”
              “Mama’s in bed.”
              “And your dad?”
              “Right here,” a voice rumbled from behind the men. The men turned.  Dan Corduroy stood there, apparently just done with his work, judging by the dirty axe hefted over one shoulder.  “And ANGEL is STAYING in bed.  GOT IT?”
              “Angel?” Shermie asked.  Dan scowled.
              “My WIFE.”
              “Ah.  Yes. Is that- is that her name?” Shermie asked, clearly trying to be polite.  Dan’s scowl deepened.
              “It’s her NICKNAME.  Ever HEARD of one?”
              “Ah.  Okay.”
              “Good to see ya again, Dan,” Fiddleford said, holding out a hand.  Dan shook the offered hand.  Shermie goggled at how Fiddleford’s hand was dwarfed by Dan’s.  “How’s m’ sister doin’?”
              “All right, but NOT involved with THIS,” Dan said firmly.  “Doc says she CAN’T have more STRESS.  She’s staying OUT of this.”
              “Understood,” Ford said with a nod.  Dan sighed heavily.
              “But I can’t stay out of it,” he said somberly. Stan raised an eyebrow.
              He doesn’t use his inside voice very often.  He’s serious about this.
              Yeah, no shit, Ford said tartly.  Stan glared at him.
              Get outta my head, Sixer.  Ford rolled his eyes.
              Fine.
              “What do you mean, Dan?” Stan asked.  Dan sighed again.
              “These people…they’ve gone after my wife. They’ll go after my daughter, too. I can’t let them.”  He met Stan’s eyes squarely.  “Whether you like it or not, I’m coming with.”
              “We’ll be glad to have your help,” Ford said. He looked at Stan.  “Stan?”
              “Yeah, with Dan as backup, our odds are even better,” Stan confirmed.
              “Why do you think the company will go after your daughter?” Shermie asked.  Dan looked at Wendy, still in Stan’s arms.
              “Show ‘em, SWEETIE.”  Wendy nodded.  She closed her eyes.  Stan began to float off the ground.  He hovered for a few seconds before slamming back down onto his heels.  “Started happening LAST WEEK.  ANGEL says that’s how SHE started.”  Dan gripped his axe so tightly his knuckles turned white underneath his ginger hair.  “They WON’T do to Wendy what THEY did to my WIFE.”
              “No, they won’t,” Stan said firmly.  Dan looked at him.
              “Do you…KNOW?” he asked.  Stan reached for the information.  After a moment, he nodded.
              “Wendy’s safe.”  Dan’s shoulders slumped in relief.  “But only if we rescue Shermie’s grandkids.”  Dan grinned viciously.
              “Sounds GOOD to ME.  My AXE gets sick of TREES sometimes.”  Shermie, Fiddleford, and Ford blanched.  Stan, however, set Wendy on the ground.
              “Hey, kid, did you hear what your husband just said?” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.
              “Yes, I certainly did!” the kid shouted from inside the house.  “And I’m not happy he made that sorta joke in front of people who don’t know his sense of humor!”  Stan smirked at Dan.  “You better all come inside so I can catch up with my family and scold my dear spouse!” Stan ruffled Wendy’s hair.
              “Go get your mama, sweetie.”  Wendy bolted inside.  Stan looked at Ford.  “Let’s go see our little sister.”  Ford smiled.
              “But of course.”
-----
              Dan’s pickup truck came to a stop inside a wooded clearing a little under a mile from the company’s headquarters.  Stan practically fell out of the car in his haste to be away from Dan’s distinctive body odor.
              “Do you ever shower?” Stan choked out.  Dan got out of the truck, scowling.
              “ANGEL likes it.”
              “Yeah, I don’t understand her sometimes,” Stan muttered.  Ford and Fiddleford got out as well.  “So, we all understand the plan?”  The other three men nodded.
              “We should go over it quickly, though,” Ford said. “We will break in by stealing some of the uniforms worn by the workers.  While Fiddleford causes a distraction, Stan and I use the map to track down Mabel and Mason.  Fiddleford leaves after causing his distraction, Stan and I leave after rescuing the infants, and we all meet up here with Dan.”  Everyone nodded.
              “If you NEED me, you can…”  Dan grimaced.  “You can get INSIDE my HEAD, Stanford.”
              “Really?” Ford asked.  Dan nodded.
              “I might HATE it, but it’s the EASIEST and FASTEST way to contact ME.  Can’t waste TIME with these PATHETIC worms.”
              “Usually I use more four-letter words to talk about the people who work for the company, but ‘pathetic worms’ isn’t bad,” Stan remarked. Dan grinned.
              “I just HOPE your CITY-SLICKER BROTHER takes care of my WIFE.”
              “Shermie will take great care of the kid and Wendy,” Ford said smoothly.  Dan nodded. Stan took a steadying breath.
              “We better go soon.”
              “Do our odds get worse if we wait?” Ford asked.
              “Yeah.”
              “Any particular reason why?”
              “‘Cause I’m gonna lose my nerve if I have to think about it much longer.”
-----
              One strong mental blast from Ford was enough to knock out the three guards by the back door.
              “You’ve gotten better at that,” Stan remarked as he removed the guards’ uniforms.
              “I’ve been practicing,” Ford replied.  Stan handed him a uniform.  “You’re physically much stronger than I am.  I have to be able to protect myself somehow.”
              “Yeah, yeah, I get it.  It’s just a bit surprising to see three men drop when all you did was look at them.”  Stan tossed a uniform to Fiddleford.  “Get dressed. We’ve gotta move fast.” Fiddleford nodded.  The three men pulled on the uniforms.  To Stan’s relief, the uniform included a full-face mask. Stan opened the door.  “All right, Fiddlenerd, go make us a distraction.” Fiddleford nodded and ducked inside.
              Stan and Ford waited a few minutes, then entered as well.  The moment they stepped into the building, Stan swore softly.
              “They’ve got dampeners up.”
              “We don’t need our ESP for this, though,” Ford said.
              “If everything goes right, we don’t,” Stan corrected.  “But that’s not what I’m worried about.  Mabel and Mason are babies.  The company’s already got power dampeners up for them, at this age?  Even the kid didn’t get dampeners until she was a toddler.” Ford stilled.  Stan couldn’t see Ford’s expression, but knew the blood had to be draining from his twin’s face.
              “Shermie’s grandchildren must be something special, to warrant such protection.”
              “Yeah.”  Stan shook his head.  “We can’t think about that right now.  We’ve gotta focus on getting the kids outta here.”
              “Absolutely.”  Ford pulled out the map.  He inspected it closely.  “I know which way to go.”
              “Well, age before beauty,” Stan said, gesturing for Ford to lead the way.  Ford huffed slightly, but began to walk.
              The company’s facility was different than Stan remembered.  He wasn’t sure whether it was because they had decided to switch up the design after relocating, or because he hadn’t seen it much when he was in the facility, since he had spent so much time locked in blindingly white rooms.
              Clearly, they haven’t changed their favorite color. The tile floor, walls, and even chairs and tables they passed were all white.  Would it kill them to have one piece of furniture that doesn’t look like it was bleached?  In the sea of white, a bright yellow plaque on the wall caught Stan’s attention.  He came to a stop in front of it.  Luckily, Ford noticed before he had walked very far.
              “Stan, we have to move,” Ford hissed, backtracking to where Stan stood.  Stan gestured at the plaque.
              “Apparently, this place has an actual name,” Stan said quietly.  The plaque proudly listed the names of donors that paid to construct the new headquarters of the Cipher Paranormal Studies Corporation.
              “I’m not surprised,” Ford whispered.
              “We were never told the name.  That’s a dick move.”
              “Stan.”
              “You’re right, this is the least dickish thing they’ve done.  But I still feel like we shoulda been told the name of the place we grew up in.”
              “Stan, we need to move fast.  We don’t want Fiddleford’s distraction to go to waste,” Ford insisted.  Stan nodded. He followed Ford away from the plaque, but glanced back at it briefly, a strange feeling in his chest.  Almost like his dampened clairvoyance was trying to tell him something.
-----
              “Here,” Ford whispered, coming to a stop in front of a closed door.  A sign on the door read “Subject Incubators”.
              “Damn, that’s a creepy way to say nursery,” Stan muttered.  He pushed open the door.  Like everywhere else in the facility, the room was bright white.  The furniture was the same color, including two cribs tucked against the back wall.  “There!” The brothers rushed over to the cribs. Stan’s heart sunk.  Only one crib had a child in it.
              “This must be Mabel,” Ford said, gently lifting the baby and nestling her in his arms.  Mabel giggled loudly.
              “But where’s-” Stan started.  The door opened behind them.  They spun around.  Two employees stood in the doorway, one carrying an infant.
              “Who are you?!” one of the employees snapped. In lieu of a response, Stan bolted across the room, tackling the employee who wasn’t carrying a baby before they could raise the alarm.  He kicked the door shut.  A jolt of pain accompanied the movement, making him gasp.
              Fucking hell.  My age is catching up to me.  The employee he’d tackled quickly recovered, shoving Stan off.
              “They said nanny duty was easy,” the employee spat.
              “Well, whoever told you that was lying,” Stan retorted, grabbing the front of the nanny’s uniform and pulling them in.  He then grabbed the nightstick attached to his hip as part of the uniform and whacked the nanny over the head with it. The nanny dropped to the floor, unconscious.  Stan got to his feet, prepared to attack the second nanny.  Instead, he saw Ford holding both babies and standing over the second nanny’s unconscious body.  “Huh.”
              “Please take one of the infants,” Ford said, panting. Stan took Mason from him.  “Thank you.”
              “Good work, Ford.”
              “Save the praise for after we’ve left the building,” Ford said.
              “Fair enough.”  Stan opened the door.  He caught sight of movement at the far end of the hall.  “Shit, more nannies are headed this way.  We gotta go.”  Stan and Ford sprinted out of the room, running until they had left the nursery far behind.  They came to a stop, breathing hard.  “Okay.” Stan gently cradled Mason in his arms, muscle memory from Wendy kicking in.  “We got the babies.  We got away from those evil nannies.  Now what?”
              “You’re the clairvoyant,” Ford snapped, holding Mabel close to his chest.
              “I can’t really do the clairvoyance thing if they’ve got power dampeners going,” Stan snapped back.
              “Fine, fine.”  Ford looked around.  “Should we go the way we came?”
              “Wh- you’re the one with the map!”
              “…I dropped it,” Ford mumbled.
              “You dropped it?!”
              “It was either the map or Mabel.  I chose to drop a piece of paper over our infant relative,” Ford said snidely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “You helped to draw the map.  Do you remember anything from it?”
              “Not really, no.”  Stan looked up and down the hall, yearning for the familiar sense of churning in his guts to guide him.  “Maybe…that way?”  He turned left, going up the hall.  Ford followed.  “If the power dampeners weren’t up, this’d be a piece of cake.”
              “We might rely upon our powers too much,” Ford said quietly.
              “You might be right about…that…”  Stan trailed off.  They had reached a dead end.  A single, open door was in front of them.  Through that door, something was glowing.
              “What is that?” Ford asked.  He walked into the room.
              “Stanford, we’ve gotta get these kids outta here!  We can’t waste time trying to figure out whatever bullshit the company is doing now!” Stan hissed.
              “Oh, my god,” Ford whispered.  Stifling a groan, Stan entered the room.  His jaw dropped.  The room was massive.
              Well, it’s gotta be, to have room for…that. There was an enormous structure in the middle of the room, an upside-down metal triangle.  A circle was cut out of the center of the triangle, bordered by strange symbols.  Two metal circular platforms stood in front of the triangle.  An identical pair stuck to the ceiling like stalactites.  The platforms glowed a faint blue, as did lines of lights along the edges of the triangle.
              “What is that?” Stan asked.
              “My ride out of here,” a voice boomed.  The door slammed shut.  Stan and Ford spun around.  They were still alone.  “And you boys, as well as the other members of your deliciously powerful family, are my ticket.”
              “Okay, first, it’s gross as hell to call babies ‘delicious’,” Stan said.  “Second, who the fuck are you?”
              “I’ve had many names,” the voice said vaguely. Ford elbowed Stan.  When Stan looked, Ford pointed at a loudspeaker on the wall, from which the voice was coming.  Stan nodded.  “But the one you’ll recognize is Cipher.”  Stan’s blood ran cold.
              Cipher.  Cipher Corp.  The company’s real name.
              “Cipher,” Ford said.
              “That’s right!” Cipher said cheerfully.
              “Are you the boss of this whole fucked up shindig?” Stan asked.
              “Obviously,” Cipher scoffed.  “I have to admit, it was a delight to watch you grow up.”  The ice in Stan’s veins was promptly replaced with fury.
              “You stole us from our family!” he snarled. Cipher sighed.
              “I took you in,” he said, sounding disappointed in Stan.  “Your parents didn’t want you.  They didn’t want either of you.”
              “You-” Stan started.  Ford put a hand on his shoulder.
              “Cipher, what do you want with us?” he asked.
              “I already told you.  You’re part of my triumphant return home.  You, your twin, those darling children you’re holding, and even that young lady you think of as your sister are part of this.”  Stan heard a hitch in Ford’s breath.
              “Leave the kid alone,” he snapped.  “She’s been through enough!”
              “I’m not sure that she has,” Cipher said. Stan opened his mouth to shoot a retort, but before he could, there was a loud explosion.  Ford stumbled back a few steps, nearly falling.  The loudspeaker crackled.  Stan knew what had happened.  He knew.
              “Cipher’s gone,” Stan said confidently.  Ford looked at him.  “He probably went to find out what happened to knock out the power dampeners.  Now, let’s get the hell outta here before he comes back.”
              “We don’t have the map.”
              “We don’t need one now.”  Stan furrowed his brow, focusing as hard as possible on what route they should take to get out.  “The shortest route has a bunch of guards.  Looks like you’ll get plenty of chances to practice that telepathic attack of yours.”
              “At this point, I’ll take anything over more physical exertion,” Ford muttered.  “Lead the way.”
-----
              Exhausted and sweaty, but still alive, Stan and Ford finally arrived at the clearing Dan was waiting in.  Fiddleford was already there, pacing back and forth anxiously.
              “We’re here,” Stan croaked, removing his mask. Ford removed his as well. Fiddleford and Dan’s heads shot up.
              “Oh, thank the Lord,” Fiddleford said, resting a hand over his heart.  “I was startin’ to get mighty worried.  Did the distraction help ya or was it too late?”
              “It was perfectly timed,” Ford said.  He and Stan walked over to the truck. Fiddleford sighed in relief.
              “Good.  I had some issues tryin’ to decide how to set up the distraction.”
              “It worked out great,” Stan said.  Fiddleford grimaced.
              “Not really.”
              “What do you mean?”
              “He DROPPED the doohickey he made with my WIFE’S magic,” Dan rumbled.  Fiddleford glared at Dan.
              “I told ya, that ain’t how the lil tie I made works!”  He looked back at Stan and Ford.  “But…yes, I did drop it in the chaos.  Ya don’t think that’ll be a problem later on, will it?”
              “Of course it’s gonna be a fucking problem!” Stan burst out.  “You just handed over the kid’s powers to the company!”  Fiddleford quailed.  Ford put a hand on Stan’s shoulder.
              “Stanley.  It’s okay. That’s something we can deal with at a later point.  Right now, we need to be glad that everyone got out unharmed.”
              “Yes, how are the lil ones?” Fiddleford asked.
              “Surprisingly quiet,” Ford said.  Mason abruptly began to fuss in Stan’s arms.  “Never mind.”
              “They had power dampeners on for these little gremlins,” Stan said quietly.  Fiddleford cocked his head.
              “Well, ain’t that just their policy?”
              “Not for babies.  They put in the power dampeners when they decide that someone’s ESP is getting strong enough to cause problems,” Stan explained.  “Your sister only got power dampeners when she was a toddler, and you know how powerful she is.”
              “So these lil sweeties ‘re goin’ to have some strong ESP,” Fiddleford remarked, peering at Mason and Mabel.
              “That would be the logical conclusion, yes,” Ford said.  Fiddleford grimaced.  “We can finish this conversation at Dan’s place, I think.”
              “Yeah,” Stan said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the company decided to start combing the woods looking for us.”  He felt a nudge at the back of his mind and let the knowledge wash over him.  “Yep. They’re already coming.  Let’s get outta here.”  Dan got into the truck.
              “Took the WORDS out of my MOUTH.”
-----
              Shermie and Wendy cooed over Mason and Mabel, who were buckled into carriers, ready to be brought home to California.
              “They’re so little!” Wendy gushed.  Shermie smiled at her.
              “Yes, dear, they’re newborns.  When your younger brother is born, he’ll be as small as them.”  Wendy’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.
              “Whoa,” she whispered.  Shermie chuckled.
              “Hey, uh, Sherm, can we talk to you in private?” Stan asked.
              “Sure,” Shermie said.  “Fiddleford, Dan, mind keeping an eye on the babies?”
              “No problem,” Fiddleford chirped.  Dan nodded.  Shermie followed Stan and Ford outside.
              “What’s going on?” Shermie asked.  Stan crossed his arms.  He looked at Ford, waiting for him to start the conversation.  Ford sighed.
              “The company already installed and turned on power dampeners for Mason and Mabel,” he said.  “Power dampeners are expensive to maintain, so they’re only turned on when necessary.  The fact that they’d already turned them on with Mason and Mabel being so young…” Shermie paled.
              “They’re going to be particularly powerful, aren’t they?” he whispered.  Stan and Ford nodded.  “Oh, no.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll- I’ll have to warn my son and daughter-in-law.  But even with the warning, I don’t know how well they’ll be able to handle it.”
              “I’m going to go to California,” Stan said. Shermie stared at him.  “Ford and I realized that one of us should stick near you and the kids, to keep an eye on them, and we decided that I would.  I don’t really have much of an attachment to any particular place.  Not to mention, I can see danger coming from a mile away.”
              “Stan, that would be fantastic,” Shermie said, audibly relieved.  Stan shrugged.
              “It’s important to look out for family.”  He smiled.  “Even if you’ve only just met them.”  Shermie smiled back.
              “Still.  Thank you.” He glanced back at the cabin. “What about Wendy and her mother? They could probably use some protection. I know that Dan is rather formidable, but…”
              “I’ll be staying in Gravity Falls,” Ford interjected. “Stan and I saw something in the company’s facility that concerned us, so I won’t just be staying to keep an eye on Wendy and the kid, but also to find out what I can about what we saw.”
              “What did you see?” Shermie whispered.  Ford shook his head.
              “I honestly don’t know.  But it can’t be good.”
              “If I get any bad vibes or if Ford or the kid give me a call, I’ll head up to help out,” Stan said.  He grinned at Ford.  “But Ford proved he can hold his own today, so I think I can leave him here without too many problems.”  The door to the cabin opened.  Wendy sprinted out.  She tugged on Shermie’s pant leg.  Shermie looked down at her.
              “Yes, dear?” he asked.
              “Mr. Shermie, the babies laughed!” she enthused. Shermie’s eyes widened.
              “Well, that sounds like something I should be there for!”  He looked at Stan and Ford.  “Are you going to come inside as well?”
              “In a moment,” Ford said.  “Stan and I need to have a quick conversation.”  Stan nodded.
              “All right,” Shermie said mildly.  He took Wendy’s hand and went inside with her. Stan and Ford looked at each other.
              “Do you really feel comfortable being on your own in California with Shermie, Mason, and Mabel?” Ford asked quietly.
              “I’ll figure it out.  I don’t foresee any big problems,” Stan said.  Ford sighed.
              “Still.”
              “What about you?” Stan asked.  “Are you sure you can handle the kid and Wendy and the company?”  He scowled. “Or, I guess, the Cipher Corporation?”
              “I’ll be fine.  Like you said, the second there’s any issues, I’ll contact you for help,” Ford said smoothly.  Stan felt a nudge at the back of his mind.  When the information came, it made him raise an eyebrow in surprise.  “What?”
              “This town has more secrets than just the company. You better be careful.”
              “I will,” Ford promised.  Stan snorted.  He turned around to head back inside.
              “Ford, I don’t need clairvoyance to know that you just lied through your teeth.”
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hawkbucks · 4 years ago
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Prompt: I always see you in the library and I think you’re really cute so I leave you little post it notes on your work whenever you go and get a book just to see you blush AU.
Note: Originally sent in by an anon on my now-deleted older blog (as is usual with these reposted ficlets jgkfld) 
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It starts, like every good this-is-how-I-met-my-boyfriend story does, with Bucky dragging himself to the library after barely getting 2 hours of sleep last night.
With his trusty can of Red Bull and an ancient laptop that might as well have had dust spluttering out of its vents, he sits down in silent isolation from the other groups of students who take the library as a place to socialize and listen to music without earphones on as opposed to actually studying or writing their 3 essays that are due the next day. (He does, however, realize the hypocrisy in his way of thinking considering the obscene amount of time that he spends shooting the shit with Steve, Sam, and Nat in their group chat whilst his physics homework lies ignored.)
He takes a generous gulp of his Red Bull and turns on his laptop, ready to wait the 34 years it takes to boot up. The chair creaks disconcertingly underneath him as he leans back, but he’s had too many sleepless nights and too many mental breakdowns to care. If it snaps, it snaps. A trip to the hospital for a bashed-in head would at least give him an excuse to take time off from the hell that is university.
His laptop groans like it wants him to put it out of its misery, preferably with a BB pellet to the motherboard. He watches as the screen flashes white and the Baintronics logo pops up and swirls on the screen. A black loading bar appears under the logo. He waits, tapping his fingers on the table.
5%
30%
Somehow unloads to 19%
5–hold on. There’s movement in his peripheral vision. People sometimes come and intrude in his little corner when they’re tired of everyone else like he is, and it’s been long enough since the last person that he curiously looks up–
–and promptly lays his eyes on the cutest guy he’s ever seen. His black hair sits in a mess of soft-looking curls on his head, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with the Jurassic Park logo on it (Bucky thinks he’s in love already), and a pair of glasses perches on the bridge of his nose. Glasses. Bucky chokes on his spit and almost tips his chair over. It’s not creepy, he tells himself as his eyes follow the cute guy who ends up sitting two tables over and, thankfully, ends up sitting in a way so that Bucky can see his face. He watches as he take out a sleek laptop, a binder, and dumps out a bunch of pencils and pens. No, I’m just… admiring his looks. And it’s not like Steve doesn’t openly ogle Thor every time they pass each other… fuck, Barnes, get it together.
Bucky shakes his head and turns his attention back to his laptop screen.
As it turns out, concentrating on his stupid study guide for this stupid quiz that’s coming up is near impossible when the adorable (yeah, because cute just isn’t enough) guy keeps shifting in his seat and giving Bucky excuses to look over. Bucky’s trying to remember all these formulas but the only thing that he’s committing to memory is the way that the guy sticks the tip of his tongue out when he’s, presumably, deep in thought, or the way that he has to blow his bangs out of his face when they come down to cover his eyes. The study guide, Barnes! Bucky’s mind yells. You don’t even know this guy! Stop mooning over him!
He goes back to writing down practice problems in his notebook and gets maybe 4 problems in when he hears wood screeching against linoleum and realizes that Adorable Guy has gotten up, leaving behind pretty much everything. Bit trusting, isn’t he?
Then, a light bulb flickers on in Bucky’s head. He rummages around in his backpack for some post-it notes.
He pulls out a stack of post-its–the pastel blue ones that he was supposed to be using for his history class but never actually got around to doing so. They’ll do. Just wanted to say that you’re cute, he scratches out on one post-it. His stomach twists and turns as he peels it off and tiptoes over to Adorable Guy’s seat, looking around to make sure he isn’t seen. Before his mind can catch up and tell him that this is a terrible idea, he flattens the post-it on the binder and slinks back to his own table.
He doesn’t know when Adorable Guy will be back, but he works on making himself look as busy as possible. There aren’t many other people around, but there are other people, so hopefully the guy won’t assume it was Bucky if he looked like he was elbow-deep in physics. He taps his foot, impatient.
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1 thunk of Bucky’s head against the table later, and Adorable Guy comes back with a veritable stack of books in his arms. Bucky watches over the top of his laptop as Adorable Guy lays the books down and looks at his binder in confusion, sliding into his seat.
He picks the note up, reads it, and a pretty pink starts to rise up on his cheeks and dust itself across the bridge of their nose. He look around with wide eyes, seeming to take in everyone surrounding him and calculating who’s most likely to have written him that note. “Excuse me.” He reaches out towards Bucky, the note in his hand and sounding as sweet as Bucky thought he would. “Did you see anyone leave this here?”
Bucky puts on his best confused face and shrugs. “No, sorry.” He tries to not stare into the other’s eyes, even if, as cliche as it is, he feels like he could get lost in them.
Adorable Guy nods. “It’s fine.” And he turns away, just like that, probably pondering on whether it’s worth it to bother others and solve this mystery.
Bucky goes back to looking busy, but continues to watch over his laptop as Adorable Guy smiles softly, folds the note, and puts it into their pencil bag.
Oh, Bucky’s so screwed.
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If anyone notices that Bucky starts frequenting the library even more than he usually does in the following weeks, they don’t say anything. Well, okay, they don’t say anything, but Natasha does throw him questioning looks and Sam wiggles his eyebrows at him. He might just have a tiny, slight addiction to passing on some anonymous notes to Adorable Guy. It’s just small. Miniscule. It’s not like his day feels a tad bit worse whenever he sees that Adorable Guy aren’t in his seat, and it’s not like his day brightens up whenever he sees him blush after reading one of his newest notes.
Nuh-uh. None of that.
None of Bucky waiting impatiently for Adorable Guy to get up and get some new books before he writes, Your hair is looking especially good today, when Adorable Guy comes in with his hair looking extra fluffy, or before Bucky writes, You’re smart. Just keep studying, I know you can do it, when he notices that Adorable Guy is huffing and puffing and running his hands though his hair more than usual.
None of Bucky barely able to hold in his own smiles, feeling his heart flutter when Adorable Guy positively beams.
All of this and it’s without Bucky actually knowing the other’s name. He realizes that he should remedy that sooner rather than later, but for now… he supposes he can keep anonymous for a little while longer.
As if on cue, Adorable Guy gets out of his seat again. Part of Bucky wonders if Adorable Guy has grown as excited as he is about the notes; he’s been getting up more and more, and he comes back empty handed or with a bag of chips from the vending machine more often than with another stack of books.
Quickly, Bucky takes out another stack of post-its–this time in a light pink–and writes, I’m not sure if you’ll still be coming here after this quarter is over, but I just wanted to say that you really are beautiful. Thanks for hanging around. He signs it with a smiley face and begins that familiar walk to the other’s table.
“You!” Adorable Guy whispers as he pops out from behind a bookcase, looking entirely too delighted and proud of himself, when Bucky’s about to stick the note onto the table.
Bucky freezes like a deer caught in headlights. He’s maybe 0.5 seconds away from bolting and never stepping foot in that library ever again, even if it is the one that’s closest to his classes. “Me?”
“You’re the one that’s been leaving the notes–” Adorable Guy licks his lips, and Bucky wonders if he picked up on his nervousness– “I’m not angry or disappointed or anything, if you think that’s the case. Now that I think about it, it’s actually, uh, kind of obvious that it was you, but… I’ve been wondering for a while, and… yeah.”
“Yeah,” Bucky repeats. He moves to cram the note into his pocket.
“No!” Adorable Guy blurts out, which earns them quite a few dirty looks. He bows his head in apology towards the disgruntled students and turns back to Bucky. “Don’t. I wanna read it.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“I was sure about reading all of the notes you gave me before I knew who you were,” Adorable Guy retorts and sticks his hand out. “Now let me read it. Please?” He actually pouts, and that’s incredibly unfair.
Hesitantly, Bucky places the note in Adorable Guy’s outstretched hand (because he’s pretty sure if he tried to go against that pout, he’d get sent straight to hell immediately) and stuffs his own hands into his pockets. He can feel a thin layer of sweat start to form on his brow, which is ridiculous because usually he isn’t this nervous around people he finds attractive. Although, to be fair, none of them have ever looked like the guy in front of him.
Perhaps it’s because he’s a masochist, but he doesn’t look away and prevent himself from seeing Adorable Guy’s reaction. So, when his eyes light up and he smiles and that blush is back and Bucky realizes that he’s seeing this face to face, he smiles right back.
“God, you’re sweet, aren’t you?” Adorable Guy laughs, holding up the note. “I swear this just gave me cavities.”
Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’ll pay the dentist’s bill.”
“You better,” Adorable Guy teases. “I”m gonna need a name so I know who to make it out to.” He steps just the slightest bit closer and Bucky tries not to choke on his own spit again.
“James,” Bucky replies, “but my friends call me Bucky.”
“I’m Tony.” Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony. It’s nice to be able to put a name to the face, and Bucky suspects he’s not gonna tire of saying Tony’s name any time soon.
“So, Tony…” Bucky looks at the table and quickly snatches up a notepad and a pencil. Tony doesn’t seem to mind, or he at least doesn’t protest. Bucky quickly writes something out, then turns it around and hands it to Tony.
Would you like to go out for lunch?
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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 5 years ago
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How they act around their crush: GD edition
[This one’s for @glass-grapes​. I saw your submission and am completely psyched that you love my blog! I know that I’ve only recently had it kick-off with a few posts, but I have been wanting to start one of these since January. Hope this is to your liking! (p.s I didn’t know if I should do pre or post time skip, so I did a little dabbling into both]
Claude:
We all know Claude here is both a go-getter and a tease 
If he finds you interesting then there’s no reason for him to hide it. A  battle of wits never hurt anyone, and boy do you two fight well
He is s a s s y. If you’re chatting with some other students he might stick his nose into the conversation to toy with you. It’s all in good fun, right? Just a little mini-game on his way to achieving bigger things  
That’s what he tells himself 
Some days he finds you a bit too alluring, and can’t help being self conscious of the other people around
Fiddles with his braid when you throw him for a loop
Will pay extra special attention to you in battle, and makes excuses to the prof. for why you should be near him. He really is a snake 
Post-Timeskip he hides his bias even more. Not enough to fool his close comrades, but enough to avoid you receiving any extra attention from the enemy  
Sometimes slips items in your room to distract from the stress. Tea, a new blanket, etc.
During the five year gap he keeps track of your whereabouts. After Garreg Mache fell he decided that his dream would take priority as planned, but also believed that one day you would be at his side 
Wasn’t surprised at all to see you at the reunion, but that familiar urge to tug his hair returned too  
Judith and Nader have already heard about you prior to your meeting. Much to his dismay they view his buried feelings as open range comedy
Lorenz: 
We all know how Lorenz acts when he finds someone of interest. The guy is a huge flirt which causes the professor wayyy too much stress 
He’s not as in-tune with his sense of romance as you would think. In the early stages he’ll treat you the same as all the other ladies: a potential partner for house Gloucester.
Date offerings, frilly words, gifts, acts of kindness. Ah tis but the duty of a noble, yes? 
No. 
One day he lets that stubborn side of his personality slip out, and you come back at him with just as much fire. He becomes so angered after it, but somehow hearing the words from you hurt more than if someone else were to say them
That’s when he knows that he’s in deep, and from then on he treats you more gently. He’ll watch his tongue around other women, and sets his sights on only you. His mannerisms are the same as before, but now he tries to learn more about you as a person vs. just the cold hard statistics
He’s a blusher. He has a naturally light pigmentation so it shows. 
After the time-skip he’ll watch you like a hawke. Do you like his new hair cut? Surly it’s an improvement from before sorry bro it’s not
Sets his dignity aside to request that you be given a hexlock shield during battle, or placed near him. Claude won’t let him live it down
Ignatz: 
He m i g h t avoid you, but please don’t take it the wrong way. That’s just how he is, you know?
Young Ignatz isn’t that confident in himself. You’re...well ‘you’. And he’s...well, ‘him’
Oddly enough he confides in HIlda of all people. It originally began with wanting to see if she was still on stable duty with him, but ended up with him working and her talking
When you’re nearby he chooses not to speak unless spoken to. If you didn’t know his tells he’d come off cold, but one look at his hands wringing together just proves he was nervous 
Byleth puts you two on cooking duty together: que panic. He legit grovels at their feet to pick someone else. They don’t, and that evening he sketches a wonderful picture of you sifting through different seasonings 
On your birthday he struggles to give you the gift he prepared. It ends up with Lionie giving you it while he watches from afar. 
When you’re older he is much more verbal with his opinions 
More often than not he lets those honey-coated words slip out, which usually end up with him excusing himself quickly 
Invites you to join him during downtime at least once a week. Every day could be his last, and goddess forbid yours. He wants to spend time with you even if he isn’t the most graceful companion never mind that he’s a smooth-talking mofo
Raphael: 
If there’s one thing Raphael is good at, it’s showing that he cares 
The boy is a giant muscular teddybear. He will carry your things, he will spar with you, he will eat anything you cook without complaint, and he will hug you; hard. 
Unlike everyone else he’s pretty open with his feelings. Life is short, you know? 
If you make him particularly bashful he’ll laugh loudly. More so to cover up his own embarrassment than because he finds the situation actually humorous
Adopts this habit of constantly asking if you need anything. The guy loves to dote on people, and lookie here you’re the perfect target 
Remembers all important dates like a pro. On your birthday he drops a gift right on your desk first thing in the morning 
Goddess forbid anyone gives you trouble. Without the smile on his face he looks the murder type, and the guy uses it to his advantage. He will happily escort you anywhere you need to go 
Once his sister is settled he might honestly stick with you during that five year gap. He’s made his feelings painfully obvious, and you haven’t chased him off. Why not stick around? 
Hilda: 
Yo she’s clingy 
She knows you have to be a catch and a half to steal her heart, so who knows who else that you’ve smooth talked 
Just like everyone else she’ll still get you to do her bidding...but, maybe a smidge less 
She feels guilty, but won’t show it 
Hilda will do all in her power to not let the news reach her family. The last thing she needs is Holst sending her more letters, or worse: showing up at the monastery
Y’all she will don her best perfume for you. She will push all her work onto Cyril and drag you to have lunch with her. This is normal Hilda behavior so she has no reason to be shy 
Will flirt openly and proudly. If you recuperate she’ll go gossip to Marianne about how you’re ‘totally smitten’ with her
Post-skip she’s not much different. Most of her time is spent doing what she can for the cause, but when you see each other she’s more bold. 
Like always she doesn’t like to have expectations pushed onto her. She does have one for herself though, and it’s to stay by your side. 
Marianne: 
During the academy years she tends to admire from afar 
Her favorite memories are of when the professor signed you both up for choir practice. She loves your voice, and it was a time where there wasn’t any pressure for conversation 
As time passes she’ll become less adverse to talking. Quiet greetings will be whispered when you cross paths, and occasionally you two have lunch together 
Marianne is not as reserved as people assume her to be. She’s just had a rough time, and if you take things slow with her then she’ll gradually have a stronger presence in your life. She hopes that this comes true for you two 
Eye contact hasn’t always been her forte. She does try to maintain it with you though 
Her feelings remain at a stalemate through most of the academy days. Only when she bypass’ some more personal-issues does she let her emotions go free
About halfway through the war period she changes. Her stance is more vertical, and she becomes the one to take initiative in your relationship 
She’ll still blush upon any physical contact, and in some cases she’ll lose her breath when you talk. Don’t take the momentary silence as a bad thing, she’s okay. 
Occasionally she’ll be restless and unable to sleep, worrying about the future she now has in her grasp. You might find her scouring for a cup of chamomile late in the night 
Lysithea: 
She’ll deny herself immediately. For Lysithea the future is an anomaly. One of which that no amount of studying or research can uncover.
It’s painfully obvious that there’s a spark between you two. Anyone can see it, and Hilda has pestered her many times regarding confessing 
If the situation was a bit different, she would. Lysithea is no push over, but she also doesn’t want to invest time into something that will bear no fruition 
She keeps her cool around you for the most part...or at least until you’re out of hearing distance 
Then she completely loses composure. Did someone say clammy hands? Because hers get slicker than lorenz’s hair gel 
Leads to stress eating, not gonna lie. There are many late night trips to the mess hall, and many angry cooks over the missing sweets  
Times are different post-timeskip though. She’s a bit more reluctant to let these feelings go 
Occasionally there’s some open flirting on her part. If you recuperate then it becomes more frequent and less forced. The sassy banter between you two becomes the deer’s free entertainment
Leonie: 
She’s commonly been viewed as ‘one of the guys,’ for her personality. So she’s very insecure about getting friend zoned 
It’s not like she was actively searching for romance. It just happened, you know? One day something just struck a chord 
She never took the time to picture sharing a life with someone. Most of her life has been spent worrying about her village, or working hard to attain some kind of recognition from the Captian 
For a split second she considers going to Byleth for some advice. Now isn’t the time for school-girl crushes. Now is the time to be forging a path to the future
Decides to completely ignore the ache she feels when you’re nearby. Just...lets it go. 
She’ll put hella distance between you two. The only time she’ll initiate contact is during sparring 
After the timeskip she stays this way too. Well, until HIlda calls her out on her bullsh*t (if you haven’t noticed from all these. Hilda is a perceptive little cookie)
Just like anyone she’ll go through the moral dilemma of deciding to confess or not. She instead chooses to just let her feelings do as they please, and if something happens then it happens 
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modern-inheritance · 4 years ago
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Modern Inheritance: Night Terrors, pt. 2
WARNING: While there are no torture flashbacks in this section, Pt. 2 continues to deal with PTSD, as well as some phantom pain and a character who lost a limb in combat. If you are uncomfortable with this, please do not read, as I do not wish to offend anyone. I understand that PTSD and phantom pain are very real issues that many have to deal with, and I have no first hand or even second hand experience with PTSD, only night terrors, and I am getting all my information regarding how someone might react during a PTSD flashback episode, how to help them during one and phantom pain from the internet.
Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.
(Secondary reminder that this is part of my first stories for the current iteration of Modern Inheritance, and I’ve learned a lot since this about war trauma, PTSD and post-war life and difficulties. I tried my best to be respectful and sensitive.)
Part 1 // PART 2
~~~
Glenwing jerked, tearing himself from his waking dreams. He had heard the thunderstorm long before, and had not been bothered by it, but a new sound was echoing through his home. It was uniquely different from the storm outside, and the difference unsettled him.
Beneath the rumble of the thunder and the crash of the lightning he heard a faint ‘thudthudthud’ from his living area.
“Who the hell…” Concerned, the elf tossed off his sheets and pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers. After more than seven months of learning how to do simple tasks both with and without his prosthetic, Glen managed to get the pants on only a few seconds slower than he would have with the prosthesis. He deftly pulled on a plain white t-shirt to cover the end of his scar covered shoulder, the prosthetic on its stand beside his bed, and made his way to the front door.
Instead of the louder bangs that he had heard earlier, the only sound emitting from the door now were a series of soft, regular 'thunk…thunk…thunk’ noises. He frowned, confused, and peered out the viewer into the night.
It took him a long moment. He first only saw rain and brief flashes of lightning. Then he saw a sword lying in the mud, a shaking hand holding it in a death grip. A new sound, soft and pleading, reached his ears now that he was closer, and with a shock he threw the door open to the raging storm.
Arya tumbled into his home, drenched with rain water from head to toe and clothed in her casual, day-to-day combat gear. There was blood and mud on the side of her face, the red liquid gushing from where she had been repeatedly hitting her head on the door. Besides the cut she looked physically sound to him, so he crouched low to the ground and slipped his remaining arm under both of hers in a cross chest carry and gently pulled her fully inside the house.
Once she was inside Glenwing returned to a crouch and, supporting the woman’s weight with his chest, slipped his head under one of her arms as shifted his grip to her opposite side. “Hey, can you hear me? Arya?”
“Let me die….” The woman’s head lolled against his shoulder, eyes half open. “It hurts…can’t do it again….”
“Not going to happen, Cee-Oh. You’re a tough lil’ spitfire of a lady, so we’re going to stand on three, okay? One, two, three!” Glen heaved them both up, staggering as the added weight on his uninjured side nearly unbalanced him. He managed to get to the couch and fall backwards, wincing as his former commander’s elbow dug into his stomach. “Good job, Ari. Good job.” A flicker passed through Arya’s eyes at the words.
“It hurts…” The woman gripped his shirt, appearing a little more aware of her surroundings. “Glen…I can’t do this….”
“Take it easy, Arya. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Can I take your jacket off? You’re soaking wet.” Arya shook her head, looking terrified at the very idea. “Okay, that’s okay. Can we at least get you washed up, rinse out that cut on your he–”
“NO!” The shout came both verbally and mentally, a short spike of terror that left a sizable dent in his mental defenses. Glenwing leapt off the couch and away from his friend as a pistol suddenly appeared between them, torn from the belt slung haphazardly from shoulder to hip. “No water!” She shouted at him, a mixture of fury and pure fear on her blood streaked face.
Then the gun slipped from her fingers, the color draining from her skin as she wrapped her arms around her middle. “'Think ’m gonna be sick.”
Glen carefully moved behind couch and to the kitchen and snatched up the bucket he used for cleaning. He came back around and set it in Arya’s lap, grabbing the pistol and unlatching the belt as he did so. She didn’t comment, only slid to the floor and dry heaved into the small bucket, coughing and sputtering as nothing came up.
When she finished, shakily curling into a half ball on her side, Glen sat cross legged next to her on the floor and leaned against the couch. “You okay?”
Arya shook her head. “It hurts.”
“Your stomach?”
“Back. Head. Everything.”
Glen nodded. Her difficulty speaking and combat ready attire had already clued him in on what was happening, feeling an ache in his chest as he watched her try to fight the flashbacks and phantoms in her head.
“Can I touch your shoulder?” He asked softly. The woman nodded, and when the male elf gently set his remaining hand on her arm she grabbed it and held onto it as if seeking a lifeline back into the present.
They sat like that for a long time, the rain pounding on the roof and the thunder rumbling through the forest.
Arya slowly seemed to relax slightly. Her grip on Glen’s hand never released, but she moved closer to him, her upper back lightly brushing the outside of his leg. He took it as a sign that she was feeling a bit more grounded and asked, “Can I heal your head?”
“Yes.” She mumbled, exhausted and pale. Whatever she had seen and felt had ripped through what little progress in sleep she had made, and it left her cold and shaking. “Please.”
“I might need my kit.” Glen told her softly, squeezing her shoulder. “I need to get up and get it. Will you be okay?”
“…Maybe.”
“Do you want to hold on to something? Dog tags? A pillow?” The medic smiled as his former CO reached up and dragged one of the small pillows off the couch and released him. With her free hand she clutched at the dog tags around her neck, running her thumb over the raised letters of each. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Using slow movements Glenwing pushed himself up, grabbing the couch armrest for support. His knees and his lower back popped as he came out of the hunched position, and he rolled his neck as he retrieved his prosthetic from his room. The ruddy orange and white streaked limb locked on with a familiar click and hiss and the medic flexed his metal fingers, touching to tip of each one to his thumb in the now automatic check on the link to his nerves.
Satisfied with his findings, Glen opened his closet and pulled out a dusty backpack similar to the one Arya had in her room. He unlocked it with the thumb scanner and dug out his belt and the attached medkit, then grabbed an armful of towels. He was about to return to the living room, stepping out into the short hall, when the closed door across from his room caught his eye.
'That might actually help.’
A few moments later he was back at the couch, setting his collected items down. “I’m back.” Arya nodded a little and Glen sat, patting his leg. The woman scooted closer and rested her head on the offered knee, familiar with the methods he’d had for caring for head wounds she or Fäolin would acquire in the field. “I’m going to ask you a question that might scare you. There’s all sorts of debris in this cut. I can rinse it out with cleaning solution or I can clear it with magic.”
Glenwing saw the other elf’s throat convulse, and for a moment he was afraid she would slip back into her memories or start gagging again. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she gripped her tags in a white knuckled grip as she shook her head. “No…water. No water.”
“Clear it with magic, then?”
“…Magic.”
As Glen gently moved her mud caked hair away from the still trickling wound, his mind reverted back to that of the battlefield medic and bodyguard he had been before that night months ago. The cut wasn’t deep, but like all head wounds it had bled profusely. The mud had helped stop the bleeding somewhat as it dried, and with a light touch he gently brushed the larger pieces of dirt away before breaching the flow of magic in his mind and murmuring a spell to remove the debris from the gash. Once it was clear, he set about healing it completely.
“There.” Glen set his hand on Arya’s arm as the last bit of skin flowed together. “All healed up.” To his confusion, Arya shook her head. “Are you hurt somewhere else?” She nodded. “Tell me.”
The woman hugged the pillow closer to her chest and buried her face into it, pulling away from her friend. “Back…Back’s open again.”
Glenwing felt a tingle shoot down his metal arm. There would be much more blood if the scars on her back had opened. He almost asked ’are you sure?’ before he caught himself, one of his own memories giving him pause.
He sat in Rhunön’s shop, remaining hand clenched at his hip as he screamed at the sky “It still hurts!” Then the wizened blacksmith had marched out from her forge, interrupted from shaping the plates of his prosthetic, and slapped him across the face hard, shouting for him to unclench his fingers. When he finally did she seized his hand and slapped it on the end of his stump, her rough fingers holding his in place.
“Feel that?” Rhunön had snapped. “It’s gone! You have no nerves down there anymore. It hurts, I know. But you have to make your brain remember that it is gone.” Glen had shivered and tears streamed down his face as he did as she told him, rubbing the thick pink scars that marked where his shoulder now ended.
And the pain had eased.
If it felt real to her, he had to show her that the past was not lingering in the present.
“Alright. Then we need to take your jacket off.” Arya shivered but still eased herself up from the floor and pulled her arms from the sleeves, shedding the garment by tugging the hem on the back so that it fell from her shoulders.
Just as he had suspected, Glen saw no blood on her shirt as he moved to sit on the couch behind her. The wet olive green fabric was darkened by rainwater but showed no telltale, pitch-black patches where blood would have seeped through.
“Arya, I’m going to pull the back of your shirt up, okay?” Glenwing warned her as he brushed her loosened braid over her shoulder. When she gave a shaky nod of approval, he carefully pulled the cloth up until it was midway up her back and held out his hand by her side. “Give me your hand.” When she paused, Glen touched two fingers where he knew the Yawë was inked into her skin. “Vae hávr yawë, fyrn-darmthral.”
She relaxed, the undeniable truth of his words putting her more at ease, and let him take her hand.
Slowly, gently, Glenwing guided Arya’s hand to the exposed skin of her back. She flinched when her fingers first brushed it, then sucked in a breath when he ran her hand over the first scar, the burns that raked her side. When she didn’t react beyond that, he continued, letting her fingertips glide over the healed rents in her skin.
Finally, he touched her palm flat against the center of her lower back. Her fingers felt blindly for open wounds but only found scar tissue. Glenwing released his hold on her hand and let her feel along a nearly inch wide hypertrophic scar that reached to her hip, checking under her own control that what she felt was real.
After a long moment, Arya spoke, her voice no longer strained with pain but slightly disbelieving and oddly awed. “They never opened.”
“They never opened.” Glenwing confirmed, again abandoning his spot on the couch to sit next to her on the floor. “How do you feel?”
Arya was silent, then she grunted, “Sore as all hell.”
“That’s expected. You headbutted my door hard enough to make a Kull proud.”
“I probably woke up half of Tildarí hall.” The woman groaned and put her face in her hands, mortified, then pulled back with a mildly surprised expression. “I’m covered in mud.”
Glen couldn’t help but grin a little. “Yes. Yes, you are. You wouldn’t let me clean you up. You, my friend, are in desperate need of a shower.”
Arya shuddered from head to toe and her eyes flicked to the window, where rain continued to pour down from the heavens. “I don’t want to be near water for a while.” She rubbed her upper arms as goose bumps flared over her damp skin.
“Here.” Glenwing picked up the jacket he had retrieved from the closed room.
His friend accepted it gratefully and pulled it on, then froze. Her pupils first contracted then dilated in a split second, and for a moment Glen feared his action had triggered another attack. Then Arya hugged her sides and tugged the hood over her shoulder, inhaling a scent that Glenwing couldn’t detect and smiled slightly.
“This is Fäolin’s, isn’t it?” She didn’t look at him with any anger or accusation, only a strange relief as if the scent of her lost love had chased away the final demon lingering in her mind.
“Yeah.” Glenwing gently grinned back at her. “I figured you could use something familiar.”
“Thank you, Glen.” They sat together in comfortable silence, the fluffy towels bunched around them on the floor seeped in their body heat. “What time is it?”
Glen checked the digital readout on his arm. “Ah, almost Oh-Four-Hundred.” Arya started to stand, apologizing profusely for waking him up in the middle of the night. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down. “Hey, hey, stay! I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while. You nearly beat my door in with your head, so I need to watch you for signs of a concussion.” He chuckled. “I’ll need your help fixing the dent you put in the paneling when morning comes, too.”
Arya paused, considering it. It was still raining, and she didn’t want to risk triggering another episode by going out in the deluge. Plus, she very well couldn’t go back home until she had washed up, which might be some time in coming as the very thought of even wiping her face with a wet washcloth made her throat tighten. She could change clothes from the go bag she kept in Fäolin’s room and just tell Islanzadí that Glen had called her over early in the morning for another lesson on how to repair his prosthetic. If she even asked.
“Okay, fine. Can I take the couch?” A flicker of confusion flashed across Glenwing’s face, and he started to gesture back towards the closed room in the hallway. “I don't…I don’t want to sleep in his bed without him.” Arya murmered, jamming her fists into the pockets of Fäolin’s jacket.
Glen’s face softened. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. You can take the couch. You know where everything is, right?” She nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep my door open, so if anything happens all you need to do is call me and I’ll be out here in a heartbeat. All set? Okay.” He smiled and stood, patting his former commander on the head while she swatted his arm in good natured retaliation. “Good night, Arya.”
“Glen, wait.” He turned to see Arya leaning with her arms folded over the back of the couch. She touched her first two fingers to her lips. “Elrun ono, Glenwing-Vor, fyrn-darmthrell.” And she added in the common elvish tongue, “For everything. You pulled me out of a second hell.”
Glenwing bowed with his orange fist twisted on his chest. “Onr astorí, Arya, fyrn-darmthral.” He straightened and moved into his room with a tired wave. “Sleep well.”
And for the first time in weeks, she did.
Translations
(Most of these are very rough and cobbled together from words that are similar to what I was trying to convey with a few alterations, so it is not exact.)
Vae hávr yawë, fyrn-darmthral– 'You can trust me, war-sister.’ Literally translates to 'We have a bond of trust, war sister.’
Elrun ono, Glenwing-Vor, fyrn-darmthrell– 'Thank you, Glenwing, war-brother.’ Vor is an honorific for a close male friend
Onr astorí, Arya, fyrn darmthral– 'You’re welcome, Arya, war-sister.’
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swampofiniquity · 5 years ago
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Modern Chemistry (Leon Kennedy x Reader)
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Part One of the new Point / Counterpoint series 
Rated: Teen and Up
Word Count: 2,260
Cross-posted from AO3 (Pizza_Of_My_Eye)
Summary: Life sucks so you drag your best friend to a bar and attempt to drink your problems away. Probably not the smartest idea you’ve ever had, but you’ve had worse nights.
Warnings: Self-medication, some language, maybe not the most healthy friendship ever.
You relished the feeling of the alcohol rushing to your head as you stared into your now empty glass. It was smudged with your lipstick and fingerprints and the swirling patterns of each captured your drunken attention, the bar and your best friend’s voice melting into background noise as you zoned out completely.
Three drinks in and you were so close to achieving your goal of blissful inebriation.
“Y/N!”
You jumped, the volume of his voice calling out your name startling you out of your stupor. Judging by the annoyed furrow in his brow and the sharp clench in his jaw, it wasn’t Leon’s first attempt to get your attention. You closed your eyes and rolled your shoulders, trying and failing to nonchalantly force the bubbling pit of anxiety back down your throat.
God, you needed another drink.
You forced a smile and focused your increasingly blurry eyes on the man beside you. Even after five years of friendship, it was still surreal sometimes, seeing him outside of work and very nearly blending in with regular civilian life. To the untrained eye, he pulled it off perfectly, but you could tell by the way he sat - spine just a little too straight, feet planted a little too solidly, stool angled just right to keep the bar’s exits in clear view.
He had seen too much in his relatively short life to ever be truly relaxed in public again.
“You don’t have to shout; I’m right here,” you admonished, plucking the glass from his fingers and knocking back the remainder of his whiskey. You winced as the warm liquid burned on the way down.
“Are you?” he sniffed, clearly unconvinced, and flagged down the bartender for another round.
You shrugged, a little inelegantly from the three vodka cranberries you’d already killed that night, and swayed a little as you reached for the fourth when your fresh drinks were slid across the bar. Leon grabbed them both first and held them to his chest as he frowned at you again, his blue eyes narrowed in the low light.
You laughed, misreading his intentions completely, and the sound was harsh and overly loud as most drunken laughs tended to be. “Didn’t think mixed drinks were your thing, Leon.”
Leon’s lip twitched like he was fighting a smile, or maybe a sneer, but otherwise didn’t respond. After a moment, you whined impatiently, all your dignity pretty much checked out for the night at that point. You were about to make grabby hands for your drink when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, causing you to need to grab the bar for support. “Give it, Kennedy.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea.” The words sounded off, almost forced, like he was fighting his own teeth to get them out. “Why don’t switch to water for a while, sweetheart?”
“Jesus, what are you my dad all of a sudden?” You snorted. It was a throw away line, a joke so completely lacking in self awareness that it would have made your skin crawl had you been sober.
Leon licked his lips and leaned forward, crowding you so close you could smell his shampoo. “Dunno, you drinking to mask your fear of me too?”
You shouldn’t have been so shocked that he called you on it, because of course he did. He was one of the few people in the world with the security clearance to even know about your father, but, unsurprisingly, binge drinking to repress your rampant daddy issues also came with the side effect of being slow on the uptake. Was it really too much to ask of your friend to let you drink yourself into oblivion and ignore reality in peace?
The alcohol in your blood was enough to swing the irrational pendulum of your mood from shock to fury in record time.
Thankfully, the music was loud enough in the bar to cover the sharp crack of you slapping him hard across the face, a move you would come to regret by morning, but one that the rage burning hot through your veins had demanded in the moment. Whether or not he deserved to be on the receiving end of that rage wasn’t the point, not that you were in any sort of condition for nuanced introspection. The point was you were angry and scared and had finally been pushed too far.
Leon straightened on his stool, mouth agape and eyebrows up to his hairline. He hadn’t been expecting that. You had never hit him before, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t given you plenty of reasons to over the years. Hell, he had spent nearly the first full year of your acquaintance obnoxiously and endlessly trying to get you to sleep with him. He wanted to deck himself just thinking about it.
He sighed and turned to place the drinks back down on the bar, quickly scanning the room to check that nobody had witnessed your little scene. When he turned back around, he caught your arm raised to strike him again and pulled, knocking you off balance so that you had to hold onto his shoulder to stay on your stool.
“Fuck you,” you seethed too loud, struggling to snatch your arm free. Leon’s free hand shot out to your hip, countering your weight to prevent you from falling since you seemed alarmingly unconcerned with the way your actions were making your stool wobble.
“Oh so that’s not what you’re doing here then? Will ya quit trying to hit me, goddamnit , people are staring.”
“ Fuck. You .”
“Fine, I’ll just leave then. Good luck getting your belligerent ass home yourself.” He stood, but your hand on his shoulder latched onto his jacket lapel and you were pulled forward onto your feet. It could have been the abrupt movement or the new fear of him actually abandoning you in a dive bar or just another stupid drunken mood swing, but you could feel the rage start to drain from your body along with any energy left to keep yourself upright. Instinctively, Leon caught you against his body before you could crumple to the bar’s dirty floor like a stringless marionette.
You both stood there, pressed together and silent for a while. Almost an entire verse of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin” came and went over the speakers, and Leon started to worry that you might have fucking passed out on him until you heaved a deep breath and finally spoke.
“Leon…” you muttered, your face smushed against his chest.
He sighed again, his breath puffing out against your hair and sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. “What?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Don’t - please don’t leave me?” You shifted in his arms, winding your own around his waist and squeezing, either for reassurance or in an attempt to adhere yourself to him like a barnacle thus making leaving you impossible.
“You gonna hit me again?”
You shook your head and sniffed. “‘M sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, alright,” Leon replied and took his seat again, arms spread as if to say the floor was all yours.
You heaved yourself back up on your stool, still a little wobbly, but you waved off Leon’s move to help you. “But you shouldn’t have said that. It was fucking out of line and you know it.”
And there it was, the end of his rope. With how frustratingly evasive and cryptic you had been all night, he was surprised that he’d been able to make it as far as he did. You had called him to talk, not the other way around, and getting anything more than a despondent “I’m fine” out of you so far had been physically painful. Leon fought the urge to throw up his arms and scream at one of his few friends.
“What the hell do you want from me, huh? We’ve been sitting here for hours now on a fucking Tuesday night and you have yet to even allude to what’s bothering you. So, let me help you out and save the two of us some time, hmm? Your old man’s getting paroled and you’re scared.”
Leon’s threshold for being jerked around was normally pretty impressive - one didn’t get as far as he did in the DSO without willingly and exuberantly jumping through some pretty ridiculous hoops. He’d become an expert at playing the long game.
But his patience with you was always shockingly limited, despite his genuine affection towards you. Maybe it was because he knew you so well and expected more. Or maybe you were just the only person he actually let get under his skin and as such had a more direct line to his nerves. Leon really didn’t like to dwell on it.
The blood drained from your face, your mouth suddenly full of spit. You didn’t know if you were about to pass out or vomit or both as reality crashed back onto you with a vengeance. “How-” you croaked. “How do you even know that?”
“I keep an eye on you. Bad habit, I know, but I’ve been doing it for so long now that I can’t seem to help it.” His lips twitched into the barest approximation of a smile and you just blinked at him, stunned.  
“Jesus, Leon, I don’t know whether to be touched or to slap you again. You keep an eye - do I even want to know what that means?”
“I don’t know, when you first told me about your father I pulled his file at the DSO’s office. The shit he did, what he put you through -” he paused, taking a moment to polish off the rest of his whiskey. “I didn’t - I couldn’t let anything like that happen to you ever again. In fact, that reminds me, I called in a favor with the DA’s office and had them draw up some papers for you to sign, restraining order and the like. I’ll have them sent to your office when they’re ready.”
You had forgotten how far up the ladder Leon had climbed. Mr. Right Hand of the President, having favors to cash in from the District Attorney. He’d come a long way from the sarcastic, reckless, young agent you used to bandage up after missions.
“I don’t… Leon -”
“Unless, do you want your own lawyer to handle things? Though with the way that clown bungled the parole hearing, I wouldn’t trust him with my dry clean- hey!”
He was cut off by you all but launching yourself off your stool and into his arms again. He caught you as you whispered, “I can’t believe you did all that…”
Leon let out a surprised, uncomfortable chuckle and pulled you more securely onto his lap. “Yeah, well you know me. Big fan of contingency plans. Hey, c’mon are you crying? Gorgeous, don’t - you don’t have to be scared, okay? I swear to you, if he comes near you, if he even thinks about trying to find you - he’s a dead man.”
It was said with the same sort of nonchalant certainty one usually reserved for low stakes, banal declarations like “it’s going to rain later” or “we should get Thai food for dinner” not promises of violence. A chill went down your spine as you were reminded of the fact that, for Leon Kennedy at least, being a thoughtful, caring person and being a killer weren’t mutually exclusive. It came with the territory of being an agent.
But what did it say about you that the first feeling at the thought of your own father dead at the hands of your closest friend wasn’t horror or revulsion, but gratitude?
“Thank you,” you murmured into his neck, struggling to compose yourself.
Leon shrugged, as best he could with his arms full of a weepy woman, and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I got your back, you know that. Now, can we be done with this crying shit please? You’re making the entire bar uncomfortable here.”
You nodded and took a deep breath, letting his expensive cologne and warm touch sooth you. It was remarkable how safe Leon made you feel after the tormenting trip down memory lane that had been your life since it was announced that the government was willing to support your father’s appeal for parole in exchange for information on his old boss. You had been so sure that you could do it alone and not let him get to you. But seeing that man again at the hearing, having to give another statement outlining the years of abuse and horror you and mother had suffered, only for it all to mean absolutely nothing. To have to see him walk free again...
It turned you right back into that terrified, weak little girl that you had fought so hard to put behind you. But being in Leon’s arms, knowing that you had his support, helped. Made you feel less alone and vulnerable. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself actually start to relax as you finally let someone else shoulder a little bit of this burden that had been breaking you down.
“That’s my girl. We good now or are you going to continue using my favorite jacket as a snot rag?”
You let out a watery laugh and pinched Leon’s side, making him jump. “Asshole,” you muttered, hiding a genuine smile into his chest.
Leon laughed, smoothing the hair back from your face and titling your chin up until your eyes met his. “Let’s get you home, kid.”
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xx-autmnlvr-xx · 4 years ago
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Is this embarrassing? Chapter 1
PAIRING: KEVEDD (Kevin x Edd) [Ed, Edd n Eddy]
Rating: T (for cursing and violence)
This is really exciting because I have been working on this story for almost a week now and I didn’t want to post the first chapter until I finished the whole thing. I’m so happy to finish such a long fanfiction! I hope you all enjoy!!! If you like it please feel free to reblog so others can read it!
    It was a cool autumn day and peach Creek high was out at the football field for a pep rally. The Ed's, who are now in 10th grade, were on the top of the bleachers. Edd shifted in his seat in discomfort. Eddy was sitting, leaning against the back railings and Ed was laying down beside Eddy.
    "so, I said to Rolf 'I know where you should stuff your salami' I mean, it wouldn't have hurt for some of it to be sold! I was gonna give him 25 percent of the profit!" Eddy yammered in a huff. Edd shook his head with a slight smile before looking out at the football field. His eyes raked over each player until he saw him.
   With the number twelve spread on his uniform, Edd knew that underneath was a tall and slightly muscular Kevin. Kevin has grown a bit since they were 12. He began talking more to them in a friendly way and has stopped the bullying. He still calls the Ed's dorks, but now it's in a kinder way. Double D's smile widened as he watched.
   "Hey! Earth to sock head! Are you listening?" Eddy yelled, waving his hand in front of Edd's face.
    Double D snapped out of it and looked at Eddy, "o-oh I'm sorry, Eddy. I must have dozed off."
    "Are you fawning over shovel chin again?"
    "Wh... what? No! I was... just thinking of quantum physics! Very intriguing!" Edd claimed, a blush spreading on his cheeks.
   Eddy rolled his eyes, "why don't you just talk to him, Edd?"
   "Oh no no no! I would never!" Double D's cheeks grew redder.
   Then he sighed, looking out at the field, "Kevin would never go out with me. I mean he's obviously straight."
"So?" Eddy asked, "why don't you convert him? Isn't that what people like you do? Make straight people gay?"
Edd glared at Eddy, "sometimes I really wonder why I'm friends with you."
"Oh, I know! It's because we all have the same name and have been hanging out since we were kids!" Ed said loudly, smiling wide.
Double D smiled and ruffled Ed's hair, "yes. That is a few of the reasons, Ed."
 Suddenly the conversation was cut short with a loud voice, "Okay, peach Creek high! Pep rally is over so get your asses home!" Sarah screamed in a megaphone at the students.
"But be sure to come by tomorrow at 6 for the football game!" Nazz cut in with her own megaphone, "Let's come show support to our team!"
Eddy stood up, "come on, guys! Let's get going." The three made their way down the bleachers and began trekking back to the cul-de-sac. Edd glanced behind him and saw Kevin looking at him. As their eyes met double D made a flustered noise and looked in front of him. When the Ed's made it to the cul-de-sac, Eddy yawned.
"Well, boys, I would say let's hang but that stupid football rally wore me out."
"Aww but Eddy! I wanted to show you my new 'poinder monster blood' movie!" Ed pouted.
"We can watch it tomorrow, Ed. I promise." Eddy patted his shoulder.
"Yeah I agree. Today was most strenuous! I'll see you both tomorrow!" Edd smiled and waved as he went up to his house. Double D closed the door behind him and sighed, looking at his home. It was just as he left it with no sign or hair that his parents came home that day.
"It must have been another triple shift." He muttered to himself.
 He walked to the kitchen and drunk some water. Double D put his bag on the table and looked through his books. He whispered a mental list of all that he must get done that weekend that includes two essays, a page of math equations, and a thesis on ancient Aztec inventions. he began to head upstairs when someone knocked on his door. He checked the time, it was 5 pm.
"Weird. Who could that be?" Edd made his way to the door and opened it. He nearly passed out.
"M-m... Marie! What are you doing back in peach Creek?" He asked, his knees shaking slightly. Marie kanker and her sisters were taken away back in 8th grade when May came to school with multiple bruises. The human resources department found out the kanker sisters were being beat by their fathers and found multiple signs of malnutrition. Marie still had her blue hair, cut so one of her eyes were covered up she wore a black crop top with some Jean shorts. She had on some fingerless gloves. Marie rubbed the back of her neck.
"Our mother got custody of us and talked to us about where we wanted to finish school. We all chose peach Creek. We're living close to the shops."
Edd nodded, "Oh. I see." He was a little confused. Why is she acting so different?
"Do you... Want to come in?" He asked, moving aside for her.
She nodded, "yeah, thanks." She sat down on the couch and looked down at the rug.
"Would you like something to drink?"
She looked up, "do you have any sweet tea?"
"Yes, I certainly do! One moment."
 Edd came back and handed Marie the cup and sat down in a lounge chair.
"Thank you, Edd."
"It's no problem. You seem different than last time I saw you. What has happened?"
She took a sip, "well after the people took us away, they tried to put us in a foster home. Lee made a fuss and we shanked some of the kids there. They called us a danger to society and threw us in a mental hospital. While we were there, they talked to us about internalized obsessive disorder and abuse. They gave us medicine and had us talk to so many therapists. I didn't even know what we did as children was wrong. I guess that's what happens. We all began to listen, and I found out something about me. I realized that my love for you was false. I didn't love you I loved your sensitivity. I wanted to be as hopeful as you. I should have realized that I wasn't straight when I started sneaking to look at my dad's magazines."
"You mean you're...?"
"Yeah, I'm a lesbian. I didn't realize because I honestly thought that I NEEDED a man."
She took another sip and put down the drink, "but that's not why I'm here." Marie looked at him. He looked back at her.
"Double D, I want to apologize. How I acted two years ago was very ridiculous and I understand that you must have been very scared. No one should be forced into any kind of romantic interaction. I understand that now. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just want you to know that I am working to improve myself."
"Oh... oh wow, Marie. That is very admirable of you! I must admit I never expected this. I accept your apology." Edd smiled.
She smiled back, "I hope we can be friends."
"Of course!" Edd nodded. Suddenly, Marie's pocket buzzed. She took out her phone and looked at it.
"Oh shit. I have to get home. I'll talk to you later?"
 After Marie and Edd said their goodbyes, she left his home and ran down the street. Double D watched for a moment and closed his door.
"Isn't that interesting. I never would have thought that someone like the kankers would work to better themselves. I'm happy for them." Edd said to himself as he walked up the stairs and into his room.
He took off his clothes and slipped on his pajamas. He even completed most of his homework. Edd laid on his bed and looked at the ceiling. He thought about how he should come clean to Kevin but at the mere thought of confessing made him shiver.
"Eddward this is ridiculous..." He told himself aloud, "what do you have to lose?"
He thought about it and bit his lip, "he could laugh at me... Distance himself... What if he starts beating me up?" Edd felt tears well up and he made a noise of desperation. He suddenly got an idea and went over to his desk.
"Of course! I'll just write a love letter and just never give it! I'll have the emotions released and I won't get rejected!" Edd sat at his chair, grabbed a pen and blue paper and started writing.
'my dearest friend, Kevin,
It may come as a shock, but I can contain this no longer--' double D began. He smiled and kept writing the letter, letting out all his hidden desire. After he completed the whole thing he felt better. He folded it up and put it in a tin can. He debated throwing it away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, so he decided to put it in his pants. He slept well that night.
Edd awoke at 10 am that Saturday to the sound of his alarm blaring. He sat up with a stretch and turned it off. He groggily went to his closet and grabbed his toiletries before going to the bathroom. After his shower he was brushing his teeth while trying to avoid looking in the mirror.
'why hasn't it gone away? I've tried everything but the scar is still there.' Edd thought. Finally, after he rinsed his mouth, he looked up in the mirror. There, in the middle of his head, with a haphazard pattern was a large scar. No hair grew around it so there was just a bald spot. The scar is a constant reminder of the worst point in his life. He sighed, rubbing a pea sized amount of cocoa butter lotion on the scar before putting on his hat.
Eddward left his house after doing his chores and locked the door.
"Hey, double D! Finally, you came out!" Eddy yelled from across the cul-de-sac. Eddy and Ed began bursting into a fit of laughter. Edd rolled his eyes and chuckled, walking up to them.
"You know, I may stop hanging out with you if you keep up with the gay jokes, Eddy." Edd teased.
"Aw puh-leese sockhead you know I'm just teasing." Eddy smiled, lightly nudging Edd.
Ed lifted the other two and hugged them tightly, "guys are we gonna watch the movie now?"
 Ed was sitting cross-legged in front of his couch, his eyes glued to the TV. Eddy was spread out on one side of the couch, typing on his phone. Edd was on the other side of the couch with his ankles crossed, watching the movie. After Ed's parents bought a new couch, they threw it down the basement for Ed since double D and Eddy are always over.
Edd tilted his head, "so the monster is literally a sentient glob of blood? Who comes up with these things?"
Ed turned toward double D and smiled happily, "I know! Isn't it awesome?? It could roll and wobble and gobble everyone! And it would grow each time!!! What if it happens?"
Edd smiled and patted his shoulder, "it's highly impossible, Ed. They said in the movie that they made it using 'a vial of hubirous' and there is no such thing as a hubirous. You have nothing to be worried about."
Ed nodded, "yes! You're right, double D! If it was real Godzilla would probably eat it anyways!"
Edd shook his head and smiled, "you're so imaginative."
Eddy stretched, "if I had that vial, I wouldn't waste it on some stupid experiment. Science is lame. Oh! Hey, guys, that new game came out last night! It ended up being free! Do you wanna play it sometime this week?"
"Ooh ooh yeah! That sounds cool!" Ed said, jumping up and down in his seat. A loud noise came from the television and Ed went back to watching it
Edd rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know, Eddy. We have a big test coming up this week. Maybe we can do it next weekend."
Eddy groaned, "sockhead, you're too uptight. One test won't kill us."
Double D raised an eyebrow, "Eddy, you didn't pass the practice ACT two weeks ago. You NEED to take school more seriously."
"School is for chumps! I'm gonna make a NAME for myself! I don't need no damn geometry!"
"School is the beginnings of all business and careers. You won't last."
"WATCH ME, SOCKHEAD!" Eddy huffed, crossing his arms. Edd rolled his eyes and continued watching the movie.
 After a while Edd remembered something.
"Remember the kanker sisters?" At the mere mention of them, Ed and Eddy looked at Edd with wide eyes.
"W-what... What about them?" Eddy asked nervously.
"They came back to peach Creek!" Ed was about to scream but double D covered his mouth, "BUT they aren't like they were before! They changed!"
"How do you know?" Ed asked behind being muffled. Edd cringed and took off his hand, wiping it off on his shorts.
"Marie came over to my house last night and apologized for what happened when we were in jr. High."
"Woah you serious?" Eddy asked, shocked.
"Yeah! They got help and now they aren't obsessive or aggressive like they were."
"Cool!" Eddy and Ed said in unison. The movie ended then, and double D looked at the time. 5 pm.
"I should take my leave now."
Ed pouted, "aww but why?"
Eddy smirked, "isn't it obvious? He wants to go see Kevin throw a ball around."
Edd's entire face went red, "n...no I'm not! I just have homework!"
Eddy raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "whatever. It's your life. But you know you don't have to keep denying it, it's pretty obvious. Even lumpy can tell when you're drooling."
"Yeah! It's as clear as the little ant trying to sneak off with my cheese!" Ed chimed.
Edd looked down at his hands and fumbled with them, "you guys think it's that noticeable? Oh, my what if Kevin knows? Is he going to start avoiding me?"
"Dude, it's not that deep. My father always says, 'sell it quick before they notice' which basically means 'just go for it or you'll miss it.'" Eddy said. Double D nodded and said goodbye before climbing out Ed's window.
 The autumn wind whistled past Edd's ears. The chilly air causing fallen leaves to land near his feet. Double D looked at the ground as he walked, thinking about what Eddy said.
'maybe he's right. I mean we have lived by Kevin for years. Maybe he would accept me?' Eddward smiled a little and imagined what it would be like. Kevin pulling him close and kissing him behind a tree, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
Edd wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into someone's back. He fell backwards onto his butt.
"Ngh! Oh, how humiliating." Edd groaned in pain, rubbing his lower back.
"YO, NERD!" A voice yelled. Edd looked up at two stocky-built guys in football uniforms.
Double D's face went pale, "I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean to--" The one on the right got close to Edd's face. His name was Kyle, he had bushy eyebrows and an Auburn colored buzz cut.
"You didn't mean to WHAT, loser?"
"I was- I was deep in thought and I didn't know you was there. I'm sorry."
The one on the left smirked and went behind Edd. He was named Larry and he had blonde wavy hair with a goatee. He pulled double D to his feet and locked his arm around Edd's neck to prevent him from leaving.
"What were you thinking about? Were you thinking about math? Hey, Kyle, do you think if we bust his head open, we will get a cheat sheet for school?" At the mention of a busted head Edd started squirming, gripping Larry's arm that was nearly choking him.
"Plea... please just let me go! I'm sorry!"
"Oh, you'll be sorry alright." Kyle smiled, he punched Edd in the nose. Edd screamed in pain while the two laughed. They spent the next five minutes punching and kicking him. Edd felt himself starting to pass out from the pain. The last thing he remembered was being shoved in a trashcan and them digging in his pockets.
"Shit! Doesn't the nerd have any money? I thought his parents made a lot of money!" Kyle grumbled. Double D only saw black as he passed out completely.
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quillyfied · 5 years ago
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Mega Good Omens Fic Rec Post 2
Part 2 is here!
99 titles this time because I have no self-control, once again separated into different categories: Jaunts through History/Canon, South Downs, Post-Apocalypse, Bus Ride/Night Before/Heaven and Hell, AU/UA, Soft, Before (a new category exclusive to this list, about Heaven before and during the War), Touch-Starved/Body Worship/Wings, Bonus, and H/C /Whump/BAMF. Warnings for gore and explicit material present where applicable.
Enjoy these as I have, because they’re all worth savoring!
Mega GOmens Fic Rec Post MASTER
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF A LINK IS BROKEN OR IF I MISATTRIBUTED SOMETHING.
JAUNTS THROUGH HISTORY/CANON
1. Paperwork – Mirach (T, the one where Aziraphale is filling out forms for a new corporation and is idly flashing back to the reasons for his discorporation. It has a lot to do with Crowley. This one is so sweet and heartfelt, and also has a surprise at the end that gave me a good chuckle.)
2. A Dozen Red Roses for My Darling – @raiining (G, the one where Crowley finds himself in a bit of a pickle while doing a miracle for Aziraphale. This one has the funniest summary and I don’t even know why it’s so funny to me. It’s even better that it’s a Regency story, and the underlying tension between Crowley and Aziraphale is so good. Simple and sweet.)
3. When the lights go out (run away with me) – strawberriesandtophats (T, the one where Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis skip out for the night. Has a gorgeous little rendezvous between the two of them, and a wonderful second chapter where they find Warlock again. Entirely too beautiful. All the emotions.)
4. older now, and the light is dim – WISHBONE (NR, the one where Aziraphale walks in on Crowley holding baby Warlock and both he and my heart go entirely to pieces. Based on that one gingerhaole fanart, it captures the quiet tenderness of the art perfectly, and then beyond—Crowley goes a little protective at one point and then Aziraphale is introspective and it’s GOOD.)
5.  It begins, as it will end, in a garden – @tenoko1 (G, the one where it’s the cold open but with a recurring theme of flowers woven in. This one has fluctuating gender presentations and Crowley and Aziraphale discorporating each other and one utterly perfect moment where Aziraphale tries to kill Crowley and can’t make herself do it, and it is all Too Soft and Too Beautiful for words.)
6. A House in the Country – @theoldaquarian (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale take a vacation in an abandoned house in the Lake District for a summer. It’s beautiful and there’s pining and there might be thirty-six rooms in this place but it’s nicer to spend time together, dangit. Understated and quiet and perfect.)
7. The Gospel of Crowley – gutterandthestars (T, the one where Crowley gets on with tempting Christ and in true Crowley fashion it backfires on him. Jesus has the BEST characterization, he and Crowley have wonderful banter, and the whole thing is poignant and hilarious. Loved it from start to finish.)
8. build me a city, call it jerusalem – @gyzym (T, the one where Crowley considers Right and Wrong. Book-verse. Jumps around in history and is one of those really esoteric, artistic pieces that makes you stop and think about what you just read. Absolutely gorgeous.)
9. Solitarius – @popcornpowergoddess (G, the one where Crowley blesses an old cottage and is sad. This one blew my mind when I read the author is fifteen, because WOW they are going places if they’re already this good. The work is heartbreaking and a little funny and so, so visually appealing. A real treat for the brain.)
10. Sawdust of Words – @aethelflaedladyofmercia (G and T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship and the Ineffable Plan get looked at from another angle. This series is already gonna rip me to pieces—Early Days had the most gorgeous and DIFFERENT storyline for Aziraphale post-Adam and Eve getting cast out, and it has him and Crowley actually arguing and being contentious at first in their relationship, it’s so good, especially when they start to try and work it out. Obedience hurt me in ways I did not ask for. The stories jump around in the timeline and it’s all so GOOD, I’m READY for more!)
11. An Angel who did not so much Fall In Love as Settle Into It Gradually – @theladyzephyr (G, the one where it’s exactly what it says on the tin. Jumps through history and has precious tender moments and less-than-tender moments all jumbled up in there, you can really feel with Aziraphale where he starts to lose the fight against his feelings. Just fantastic.)
12. Inauspicious (But Not Impossible) – @thetunewillcome (M, the one where there’s a kiss in 1945 and immediate consequences, and Aziraphale contemplates Romeo and Juliet. IMO doesn’t deserve the M rating, the kissing and the snogging are both pretty innocuous. The pining is real and delicious and painful, and the ways Heaven and Hell choose to remind their agents of what happens to traitors is Awful. Nothing gory, just sad. But it ends so much happier.)
13. and you can say that my hair’s a disgrace – @phoenix-soar (T, the one that’s an ode to Crowley’s hair throughout the years, and excuses for Aziraphale to touch it. Intimate, romantic, intensely emotional, just a real treat of a fic. Aziraphale loves Crowley and his hair so much.)
14. As Yearning Lips to Unyielding Stone – SanSanFanFan (G, the one where Crowley gets maudlin over a statue that looks like Aziraphale. Oh my gosh, you guys. You guys, the PINING. The YEARNING. The LONGING. It’s exquisite and painful and a work of art in and of itself. I have a soft spot for period fics, especially Italian Renaissance, for some reason, and THIS is one of the best.)
15. What’s Done In the Dark – @charmingpplincardigans (T, the one where Crowley literally glows with love and HOLY CRAP ON A STICK, Y’ALL, this one is an epic. It’s as much a story about growth as it is about love, and it’s so, so satisfying to watch Crowley go through this journey. I don’t have the words, just know that it’s one of those fics you can’t pass up. A+++++++)
16. Hot Days, Mad Blood – noodlefrog (T, the one where Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to duel, or he will in future chapters. This is a brand-spanking-new one that is gonna be so much fun to watch update. Italian Renaissance! Swordplay! Crowley being a smitten idiot! Aziraphale being competent! It’s gonna be so good y’all.)
SOUTH DOWNS
17. make your good love known to me (or just tell me about your day) – Sky_Stars_Sea (G, the one where Crowley is adjusting to living with Aziraphale. Has a beautiful sensory experience running throughout, and Crowley being so vulnerable it physically hurts. Beautiful, beautiful story.)
18. The Cottage at the End of the Lane – Angelina_Aintithenniel (T, the series where Crowley and Aziraphale have to defend what’s theirs. I have never screamed at my computer so much while reading a fic series, mostly along the lines of “LEAVE THEM AND THEIR HOUSE ALONE,” because this series is the Madoka Magica of fics: cute and fluffy casing, unexpectedly wild, angsty, action-packed innards. I adore this whole series. It makes me FEEL things.)
19. in my darkness I remember – @anthxnyjcrxwley (T, the one where it’s a soft, quiet night in the South Downs. A straight shot of fluff right to the heart, friendos, nothing more, nothing less. Stuff a mattress with this fic and say goodbye to any and all worldy pains.)
20. there’s no kingdom to come – killingthemoon (T, the one where Crowley slips off to fix up the cottage before springing it on Aziraphale. Tender, sweet, has a gorgeous ending scene that’s lots of fun and lots of shouting at the sky.)
21. A Heaven More Like This – miladyshakespeare (T, the one where it’s a Welsh cottage this time, cycling through a year. Such a beautiful piece of longing and uncertainty as Crowley and Aziraphale circle each other, a lot of quiet themes about letting yourself be cared for and letting yourself care, and also there’s a cat.)
22. The Legend of Devil’s Dyke – @sameoldsorceress (M, the one that’s a retelling of a popular South Downs local legend. Not sure at all why this one is rated M but it might be the gratuitous use of the word “cocks”, though in context it’s not filthy at all. This one is FUN, y’all, and I agree with the sentiment of the Tumblr post that inspired the fic, there need to be more fics featuring local South Downs legends.)
POST-APOCALYPSE
23. Slow – @theirdarkreturning (T, the one where the Antichrist makes some assumptions when he puts the world back together. Scores points for being very Jewish and playing right into the classic nigh-Shakespearean trope of miscommunication. Hilarious and sweet also the one where God signs the marriage certificate.)
24. Binary Stars – samael_the_scrivener (T, the one where Crowley has an emotional breakdown and Aziraphale does his best to make it right. Heavily emotional and angsty, nearly had me in tears right along with Crowley, and Aziraphale’s portion doesn’t back down from the tone, they have to fight tooth and nail through the emotional blockage to get to understanding and it’s positively sublime.)
25. If We’ve Got Nothing (We’ve Got Us) – @kedreeva (G, the one where everyone ends up where they’re meant to be. A gorgeous story about found family and working through differences and—eventually—God’s Ineffable Plan possibly coming to full fruition. I don’t wanna spoil too much, it’s best experienced blind.)
26. The Ludicrous and Many Disasters of Mister A.Z. Fell, Houseplant – @souljellied (T, the one where it is also exactly what it says on the tin and is exactly as ridiculous as you’d hope. With an unexpected but not unwelcome dash of angst, to boot. Crowley doesn’t take too well to being unable to immediately find Aziraphale, after all. Aziraphale is mostly wondering how to get out of this mess.)
27. In the (Second) Beginning – cherryfeather (M, the one where they have an inevitable conversation after the Ritz. Doesn’t really need the M rating since the smooching is intense but not graphic, and has the single greatest scene of Aziraphale reminding Crowley he’s a sensualist of ALL TIME. Fabulous work, very formative for me tbh.)
28. all I need, darling, is a life in your shape – @mortuarybees (G, the one where Aziraphale and Crowley need some convincing in the form of their well-meaning friends putting them in a room with one bed. The pining is delicious and piping hot, friends, and then suddenly oh my GoSatSomebody, they were roommates. A great little number with a beautiful confession scene.)
29. corrections – @0nelater (T, the one where Crowley is having a slow, melting come-apart about his feelings. Lots of Crowley being, in his own words, a basket case, and having a fundamental misunderstanding of how angels sensing love works, and how those two concepts are resolved. Has beautiful color symbolism and fun meta throughout.)
30. dearly beloved – @dissatisfied-starlight (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale get married, despite the universe’s best efforts, it seems. Hilarious and sweet and surprising! Not to spoil anything, but also has the best Beelzebub characterization as a nice little cherry on top.)
31. A Buried and Burning Flame – Lissomedi (G, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale visit an art museum and happen upon a disturbingly accurate and intimate depiction of themselves. Lots of Crowley pining and then being miserable, lots of Aziraphale being confused and then exasperated. So cute and sweet.)
32. The Long Game – sir_not_appearing_in_this_archive (G, the one that’s an adventure romp with proper twists and pining and saving the world. I love the spirit of this one, and the various inconveniences the cast have to overcome to stay out of Heaven and Hell’s radar. The building action right before the climax of the plot is heart-stopping, and the resolution is suitably satisfying. Was a fun way to spend a late night, for sure.)
33. in which labels are finnicky things – REVVIII (T, the one where Aziraphale is trying to figure out the perimeters of their relationship post-Apocalypse. He tries so hard, does his research, but honestly, nothing is gonna do it like talking to Crowley about it openly, which is, of course, not his first course of action. Very cute, especially when he’s trying to suss out what friends with benefits are.)
BUS RIDE/NIGHT BEFORE/HEAVEN AND HELL
34. if you wanna be alone, come with me – mygalfriday (G, the one where they can’t even make it into Crowley’s flat before it all comes spilling out. Short and sweet shot of fluff, just a perfect little sip of serotonin.)
35. The Things We Did and Didn’t Do – @dietraumerei (G, the one where they finally get their act together and defeat Heaven and Hell with the power of LOVE. Such tender, very emotion. Wow.)
36. Too Generous – rfsmiley (T, the one where That One Line, you know the one, from Pride and Prejudice serves as the inspiration. There’s some sneaky shirt-opening and it’s both hot and kinda funny. The very definition of “enthusiastic consent.”)
37. Exit Interview – Pygmy Puff (G, the one where Crowley has to survive a round of paperwork in order to get out of Heaven in Aziraphale’s body. This one went in a completely unexpected direction. I was ready for a humorous romp through Heaven’s bureaucracy. I got so much more than I was bargaining for. Read it, it’s ridiculous in all the best ways and surprisingly dangerous.)
AU/UA
38. An Honest Surrender – @kedreeva (T, the one where their plan to fool Heaven and Hell is a little different. Y’all might already know this one as the Angel Marriage fic, but for those who don’t, imagine “marriage” as we know it and then throw that concept out the window, because what happens is too weird and beautiful for words. My words, anyway.)
39. Mr. Fell – @amarguerite (T, the one that’s a reverse AU where Aziraphale is a Victorian dandy frat boy party-thrower who used to date Satan and talks about it constantly, and Crowley is Heaven’s perfect little soldier and all the PTSD that comes with. Tons of heart and originality already, though it’s still early in the fic, and a truly special dynamic between Aziraphale and Crowley. Also Aziraphale accidentally causes Original Sin by inventing brunch and if that doesn’t get you to read, nothing will.)
40. Keep Getting Stranger (I Do) – @callipygiangoldfish (T, the one that’s a Howl’s Moving Castle AU, patterned more after the book than the movie. It’s a wonderful little adventure about accepting yourself and the side-dish of falling in love is SCRUMPTIOUS.)
41. By the Light of My Stars – @theladydrgn (T, the one where Crowley was Raphael and in love with Aziraphale and that bit doesn’t change, at least. Has probably my favorite tag used in any fic ever of all time, I’ll see if you can spot it. Protective Crowley for MILES and MILES in this one, what he does to a demon that threatens Aziraphale is pure poetry. Going in a promising direction for sure!)
42. flammam gladii hinc – @wildenessat221b (G, the series where Crowley was Raphael and wiped Aziraphale’s memory to protect him. Has the BEST backstory for the flaming sword, of all things, and a bittersweet story throughout. Told in terms of [redacted] so it’s got a bit of mystery to it but not much. Somehow that makes it sadder.)
43. Bring Out Your Dead – metallic_sweet (T, the one where Crowley is Raphael and a healer no matter what Heaven tries to get him to do. A reverse AU where Aziraphale is a shark, of all things, and a warrior with a supernaturally bad sense of direction trying his best. It’s a refreshing change of pace in both reverse AUs and Raphael AUs; Crowley is still gruff and Aziraphale is still sweet and it’s perfect.)
44. Something to do with these sacred words – @thehumantrampoline (T, the one where Crowley confesses early and often. It’s both lovely and sad, in a way, for Crowley to be so open about his feelings so much without Aziraphale doing much about it besides panic internally, but the ending is sweet, very much so.)
45. reckless and wild and stricken – @weatheredlaw (T, the one where Armageddon happens again and this time it’s a true post-apocalyptic nightmare scenario. Weatheredlaw is famous for having fics that just tear at the heartstrings, and this one’s no different. It’s tender and it’s sad and it’s desperate and it HAUNTS ME.)
46. A price to pay – @aerococonut (T, the one where performing miracles costs Crowley something. A lovely look at the technicalities of Crowley—and Aziraphale, mind—doing something they aren’t made for, and the ways it changes them. Fans of fics about chronic pain, this is the one.)
47. Soulmates – GoodandIneffable (G, the one where your lies put marks on your soulmate’s body, and Aziraphale and Crowley are soulmates. This is one I wish had at least a 3k-word expansion, because the concept is gorgeous and Crowley’s realization at what it truly means to be Aziraphale’s soulmate is staggering. Short, but worth it.)
48. i love(d) you – extraordinarilyextreme (G, the one that’s a Star Wars AU and it WRECKED ME. Force-bonds, love, betrayal, forgiveness, AUGH. It’s too much. I love it. Also Padawans Warlock and Adam ftw.)
49. The Book of Aziraphale – @gigglesnortbangdead (T, the one where Aziraphale wrote poetry he never intended to make public, and naturally it goes public. This had the potential to be silly or sweet and wound up directly in poignant instead; Aziraphale takes a decidedly self-loathing approach with a lot of his poetry and it’s amazing to watch him work through his feelings about himself and about Crowley.)
50. Of Celestial Sonnets and Pitiable Poets – trieduntrue (T, the one where Crowley wrote poetry he never intended to make public and then Hell finds it. So naturally, to save his skin, he has it printed and distributed under the guise of “spreading sin.” Then he writes and publishes a second one completely drunk. This one is pure silliness and Crowley schadenfreude; it really plays up the beloved device of “everything Crowley does backfires on him somehow” in the most lighthearted way.)
51. The Healer and the Lover – Nnm (T and G, the series where Aziraphale’s name means “of Raphael” and that’s who Crowley used to be, and there’s a lot of complicated feelings involved. Really emotionally complex and interesting take on the Raphael AU, one I’ve come back to a lot because it’s so compelling.)
52. Tracing The Stars On Your Skin – PunJedi (T, the one where Crowley’s freckles used to be stars. Achingly sweet and sad, goes through each constellation Crowley made and has a story for it. The end is just gorgeous, really emotional and sweet.)
53. On the Matter of Touch – @somedrunkpirate (T, the one where Aziraphale is flooded with the emotions of the ones he touches, and Crowley is a touch-starved lovesick sad sap. Incredibly tender and emotional, lots about boundaries and communication and the Mortifying Ordeal of letting yourself care and be cared for.)
SOFT
54. keep me close – @saints-and-demons-preserve-us (G, the one where Aziraphale accidentally discovers that Crowley does local theatre. It’s so funny and sweet and full of longing and excellent Broadway tunes, and also Aziraphale is The Most Awkward and it’s gratifying af.)
55. i keep a window for you (it’s always open) – @campgender (T, the one where they quote Romeo and Juliet a lot. It’s beautiful and romantic and Shakespeare always deserves appreciation. The lines that are picked out are especially gorgeous in the context of the fic.)
56. Hunter’s Heart, Hunter’s Mouth – kashiichan (T, the series where Aziraphale romances Crowley with poetry. I’m new here so I don’t quite understand the Gomens fandom’s immortal love of Richard Siken, but I can darn well appreciate good poetry, especially when it’s couched in tender touches and overwhelming feels.)
57. Fools in Love – @theres-a-goldensky (T and M, the series where this is absolutely true. The first is a frankly hilarious jaunt at Aziraphale trying different hobbies and dragging Crowley into them, the second is Aziraphale not realizing he’s projecting his own longing for Crowley onto everyone around him and then getting jealous of his own warped perceptions. M rating is more for lascivious intent and verbiage than actual smut, and what an intent it is XD)
58. To Trust in One Another – bluespring864 (T, the one where Aziraphale is haunted by something insensitive he once said to Crowley. Do you enjoy pining that builds until it breaks every dam in the universe? Do you enjoy self-flagellating for something dumb you said once? Welcome to paradise, friends, a sweet, adorable paradise.)
59. Best Not To Dwell On It – @saaliyah (G, the one where they make out in a linen closet sometime in the early 1800s. Short, simple, sweet, and making out in a linen closet, what more do you thirsty lovies need XD)
60. Something So Precious – @freyjawriter24 (G, the one where Aziraphale and Crowley are adopted by two separate groups of old ladies who take it upon themselves to matchmake, as groups of old ladies are wont to do. Too adorable for words, will cause literal discorporation.)
61. Birds of a Feather – @idiopathicsmile (T, the one where Aziraphale is nesting and Crowley doesn’t get it. Another one of those classic miscommunication fics where everything is awful until they finally get on the same page, and then it’s wonderful. Also the thought of Aziraphale in particular feathering his nest with things he and Crowley both like is the sweetest mental image of all time.)
62. Just Hold On Tight – @books-n-bentleys (G, the one where communication is key to every relationship. Love languages are a thing and making sure you and your partner come to an understanding about them is important; see this fic for why this is a really good idea. Because every relationship deserves tenderness and understanding and the correct level of schmoop.)
63. Braving Those Angry Skies – ladymerlot (T, the one where Crowley nearly kills himself saving Aziraphale from Nazis. Crowley is so perfectly in character throughout it’s almost funny even when it isn’t (maybe especially when it isn’t). A prime example of my favorite Gomens fic trope to date. I know I don’t have a lot of variance in my adjectives but you guys TENDER. ROMANTIC. SWEET. IT’S ALL OF THEM.)
64. Moral Arguments – WhiteQueenWrites (T, the one where Crowley and the gang help a woman get revenge on her truly horrible ex. This one is FUN, there’s no other way to say it. It’s cathartic and satisfying and is one of those fics I wish was a cheesy movie I could watch while eating disgusting amounts of popcorn.)
65. get religion quick (cause you’re looking divine) – @brinnanza (G, the one where Aziraphale is convinced Crowley doesn’t love him back and it’s fine. Cute and emotional and must absolutely be read with its counterpart below. This one first, that’s why it’s listed first; they aren’t related in the way that they’re the same scene from different perspectives, they’re just similar situations with the roles swapped, and it’s so worth reading, these idiots I swear 2 Someone.)
66. you play with my feelings (right from the start) – @penrosesun (G, the one where Crowley is convinced Aziraphale doesn’t love him back and it’s fine. Hilarious and emotional and must absolutely be read with its counterpart above. Really illustrates how two smart people can completely miss the point for THOUSANDS OF YEARS.)
67. Worth Any Price – @sameoldsorceress (T, the one where Crowley sets up a kissing booth. You guys I was ready for fun shenanigans involving Crowley kissing the general public and maybe Aziraphale getting a little bothered under the collar. I was not expecting the FEELS. The PLOT. The UNEXPECTED PUNCH TO THE GUT. Absolutely an underrated treasure in this fandom, needs to be talked of often.)
68. Bodies of Change – @dietraumerei (G, the one where Aziraphale has new clothes. This one plays right into my Fashion itch and it’s wonderful and body-positive and so, so sweet. Crowley is so smitten with his angel.)
69. i did not know ‘twas love i gave – miribees (T, the one where Aziraphale makes Crowley a mixtape. This one is unexpectedly bittersweet and tender, with Crowley and Aziraphale in a fight for a good chunk of the fic, but it’s the apology and the making up that’s sweetest, of course.)
70. World Cold, Aziraphale Warm – maddiemaynot (NR, the one where Crowley is trying his best, okay. It’s unbearably romantic how much they love each other, how they slide into soft intimacy in fits and starts. Also has quite possibly the most disastrous date in history, but it’s the thought that counts.)
BEFORE
71. Fractured Heart – @asparklethatisblue (T, the one that’s gonna murder me with Aziraphale’s feels. The premise is that angels can be physically broken by strong emotion, and what’s stronger than the grief of losing a loved one to the Rebellion? Also dealing with Aziraphale’s feelings for Crowley getting tangled up in his feelings for his lost heavenly love, and it’s DELICIOUS.)
72. ask, and ye shall receive – @ariaste (G, the one where Crawly gets exactly what he’s asking for. Very much has the feel of my something-great grandpa, who once told a man “Go ahead, shoot me!” and was obliged. Hilarious and sweet, you can FEEL God’s smugness throughout the entire fic.)
73. what wound did ever heal – HallsofStone2941 (M, the one where Aziraphale is wounded in the War in Heaven and carries it with him. Rated M for one line involving sexytimes that truly isn’t that bad at all. Aziraphale is just so good and brave and Aziraphale about it all, A+++ characterization.)
74. Falling – @differentjasper (T, the one where the War in Heaven changed a lot of things. Read this if you want to picture little baby angel Aziraphale and Crowley and then get EMOTIONALLY WRECKED about them. I kinda wanted to rip my own heart out just to stop it from hurting so much while reading it.)
TOUCH-STARVED/BODY WORSHIP/WINGS
75. Uncaffeinated Decisions – @suntosirius (T, the one where Aziraphale is insecure and Crowley is sleepy. Utterly heart-rending in the best way; reading Crowley being so loving of Aziraphale’s body was extremely cathartic and satisfying, and continues to deliver every re-read.)
76. And So He Bringeth Them Unto the Haven – @je-suis-em-jee (T, the one where they’re both so touch-starved it’s obscene. Pitch-perfect romance and intimacy, I could feel the affection and love in my very bones.)
77.  All that’s been shown to me (Sunlight) – WillowRoseBrook (T, the one where Aziraphale needs some convincing that being soft is good. I’m especially weak for softness being praised, so this one hit me like a nail between the eyes. Intense, passionate, and intimate. Deffo got that praise kink going, too.)
78. These Fragments I Have Shored Against My Ruins – @istezada (NR, the one with vague D/s themes as Crowley and Aziraphale work through their traumas together. Has wing grooming and praising and misunderstandings and communication, oh my. A veritable piñata of feels.)
79. Long For the Touch of Your Hand – sara_wolfe (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale Did the Do in ancient Athens and predictably never touched again because Miscommunication. Oh, y’all, so mournful and uncertain, so desperate and sweet! My skin literally ached the first time I read this, it was the best.)
80. I Love My Lover With A-- – DictionaryWrites2 (T, the one where Crowley and Aziraphale have a game that involves kissing and adjectives. Book-verse, one of those curious fics where you’re both drowning in feels and learning something. Sensual in all the best ways and so achingly loving.)
81. Untouched – @etaleah (T, the one that RIPPED MY HEART FROM MY CHEST WITHIN THE FIRST COUPLE HUNDRED WORDS OR LESS. And then CONTINUED TO PUMMEL ME INTO THE GROUND FOR THREE THOUSAND WORDS. Crowley is so painfully touch-starved it kicked my own touch-starvedness into overdrive. Will take your emotions and leave them bleeding and broken before carefully bandaging them up and giving them a snuggle.)
82. a garden all their own – @letmetemptyou (T, the one where Crowley gets some much-needed TLC as he starts to process the day of Armageddon. Plaintive, poignant, and deeply emotional. Absolutely wrecked me.)
BONUS
83. High Risk, No Reward – @asideofourown (T, the one where idiots try to rob the bookshop. BAMF Aziraphale and hapless mortals, it doesn’t get any better than this.)
84. Asportation – @mazarin221b (T, the one where Aziraphale gets kidnapped and gets the best of his kidnappers. Or, rather, brings out the best in his kidnappers. Such a delightful way for Aziraphale to deal with the people who tried to put him up for ransom, the whole thing is utterly charming.)
85. A Button to Lurk – @reidluver (T, a quiet and mournful look at a possible spin on Michael and Hastur’s relationships with Ligur, and what’s left after Armageddon. Took me completely by surprise. Understated, powerful, and dignified, if you can believe it. Of course it is, it’s Michael.)
86. And So They Grew Better – JiMoriartea (NR, the one that’s about the plants! Basically has canon from the perspective of the unfortunate little plant that gets singled out for having a leaf spot. She is a delight and I’m so proud of her, and can’t wait to see her completely miss the point of future events XD)
87. Secret Agent Man – @theaceace (G, the one from the perspective of an actual secret agent who doesn’t think Crowley and Aziraphale are very good at their jobs. Baffling and hilarious and wonderful in every way.)
H/C /WHUMP/BAMF
88. The Point of You and Me – Rizandace (T, the one where you think everything is gonna be fine and then Gabriel happens. The danger is real. The emotions are real. The heart-stopping was figurative but felt pretty real at the time, tbh. Prepare to get punched in the face with your feelings.)
89. (Don’t) Say My Name – @cosmicocelot (M, the one where Crowley gets summoned by a not-nice person. M for torture. A classic search-and-rescue and it’s the best OH SNAP moment when Aziraphale finally catches up. Woof.)
90. Something Wicked – @thepaisleyelf (M, the one where Aziraphale gets summoned by a not-nice person. M for torture, though it’s supernatural and not exactly graphic. This one is an intense and wild adventure, y’all, that morphs straight into intense and desperate attempts at care and healing. The whole thing is a tender love story wrapped in a Victorian supernatural candy coating and it SLAPS.)
91. Every Demon Wants his Pound of Flesh – @dolphin-bouillabaisse (T, the one where Hastur is stalking Crowley. If hurt!Crowley trying to be brave and not let anyone know he’s hurting and bamf!Aziraphale taking care of business once he finally figures it out is your flavor, then welcome to Flavor Town, because this one is juicy. Was not at ALL expecting the ending, it’s delicious and vindictive.)
92. And we could feel, (none of it) – @clankclunk (G, the one where Aziraphale comes to grips with how Crowley knows to save him and the implications of that. Aziraphale’s entire emotional journey through this fic is so heartbreaking. But the conclusion is the exact counterbalance of healing and sweetness needed. Also Heaven is full of dicks but we knew that (except Aziraphale didn’t but that’s the point of this fic, now go read it).)
93. the wonder that keeps the stars apart – Nilmiel (G, the one where, fourteen hours after he gets the holy water, Crowley immediately has an Incident. Painful and emotional and intensely sweet. The second chapter has the best closure, even though it happens post-Armageddon’t.)
94. goodnight sweet prince (and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest) – @xoxoemynn (T, the one where Crowley needs a nap. Told throughout like a bedtime story in between the narrative and it’s such a charming effect, watching Crowley succumb to his exhaustion and Aziraphale take care of him.)
95. Fragments of Life – TheGirlWithBrightEyes (G, T, M, the series where Crowley has PTSD and anxiety, and Aziraphale adjusts. This series is a heartbreaking one and doesn’t shy away from the ugly parts of neurodivergence, but as much pain as there is, there is an equal and even greater amount of comfort and positive reinforcement. The single M is for a fic that toes the line of smut but doesn’t actually go over. Feels as cathartic as a good long cry.)
96. A Choiceless Hope In Grief – @thealphaaxolotl (NR, the one inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice. Featuring Crowley trapped in Tartarus and Aziraphale being more determined than Heaven and Hell combined to save him. One of those stories that drags you through the dark but doesn’t leave you there—at least, not alone, not without comfort.)
97. November Rain – FeatherBlack (T, the one where Crowley has a very bad time dealing with his emotions and Aziraphale is very bad at communicating. Visceral and emotional and raw and difficult to read at times with how miserable everyone is, but it does get better. It does definitely get better.)
98. Within These Walls – Elvendork (G and T, the series that you think is gonna be a fluffy “Greatest Showman” song-inspired jaunt but then comes out of left field with a sucker punch straight to the throat. Touching and thrilling and who invited Gabriel and Sandalphon, because I sure didn’t.)
99. Sticks and Stones – Kaz_Langston (T, the one where Aziraphale develops disordered eating because Gabriel is a dick. This one hurt so much, Aziraphale does not deserve what happens to him, but he does deserve the love and care Crowley gives him as a result.)
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instantlyexhaustedowl · 4 years ago
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"He was my first love... And only one."
Summary:
Old photos, one old love and two not that old twins. A bit of talking after Weirmaggedon. Stan listening to his bro-bro memories about college lover.
Notes:
Please be kind to me, it's my first fanfic in English and also my first fanfic i have ever posted.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580418
Ford was nostalgically sorting old photoes. Wrinkled paper gently rustled in his weary hands. All those memories, forgotten things with distand feeling of lost love, whole past in his worn out hands. "Ya look sad, bro," Stan's voice broke the silence of Ford's room. His twin was looking at him with curious brown eyes covered with thick glasses. He leaned on the doorframe.
Older twin  smiled sligtly, running his polydactyl hands thru grey hairs. Fingers touched silver stripe that cut thru dark grey hairs. He felt suddenly old and exhausted. "Just... Overthinking past, i guess." He patted spot on the sofa next to himself, showing that companion is welcome.
"Pics?" asked carefully Stanley. His mind was still a bit wobbly, but he remembered nearly everything. Definitely good sign. Stan sheepishly sat next to Ford on the sofa. Old matress swayed under his weight and caused, that Ford leaned a bit agaist Stan's shoulder. "What? Oh, yeah... Pictures. Old ones." said author of the journals with sigh while his hands gently folded photos on the lap. "Hehe, 'm probably not in your colection,...  Hey that one... that guy looks cute," chuckled his brother. He pointed at picture of tall smiling boy, maybe a bit older than twenty-one. Long sand blond hair, big blue eyes brightly shining with happines were hinding partly behind small round glasses. That noodle nerd had two daysies tucked behind his ear, big smile on his face. He looked like hippie college student. "Yeah... Fantastic old friend of mine. Wait! It...He is a man. Why do you think he is cute?" suddenly asked Ford. Stan was ladies man. Why he would think something like that?! Stanley blushed. His eyes wondered over room. Now seemed every piece of furniture like super interesting. "Ehh...No comment?" "No Stanley. We should be more honest with each other. We spend enought of our time pushing each other away. I just want to know why do you think that. No judgement, only curiosity." Old man mumbled something. Then he scooted away from Ford. Scietinst seemed a bit concerned. His brother was always the one who wanted to feel the others presence, but this was different. He was suddenly so shy. Ford like physical contact too but only from persons he loved and liked. Stanley was different- he loved patting peoples shoulder, hugging them even thou they were strangers. His attention was like contact sport. And sometimes it could change into one when that person made him angry. Ford's attention thou. It was more about reading between lines. "Pardon, Lee? I didn't understand." "I said... That i dated men too," sighed Stanley. His fingers were twiching. Eyes were trying to burned thru the floor into the heart of the Earth. He made himself look tiny. Whole body curled into himself. Ford's mouth formed into small silent "oh". "'m sorry... Gonna vanish, don't worry." "Are you crazy, Lee?! No vanishing, no going away." "But..." it was strange. Stanley could brake a montain with bare hands and now... He looked so vulnurable. Like scared teen he once was- standing outside in the middle of warm spring night hoping that Ford could forgive him. "But 'm nothing just familly disapointment. Stupid big idiot and even gay..." "If you say it one more time, i will punch you. Without warning! You are not disapointment! You are my best friend i have ever had and best twin brother i could wish for!" "Poindexer, i am weird old fag!" "Probably not. And that is absolutely horrible word, do not use it, please! You did loved Carla, hm." "And some other girls..." admited Stanley with blush of embarassment. "So you are bisexual. You like both." "'m not picky type," shrugged younger brother with hint of smile. He seemed more comfortable now. Hands put on his knees, eyes still sticked to the ground but he didn't look like persone who wanted to crawl under the rock and stay there for next few milleniums. "I am fag... At least that would Pa called me... If he had knew about it..." "That explains lots of things... And highschool," mumbled Stan scooting back so they shoulders touched again. "Pardon me?!" shrieked Ford. "You were curious only about science. And why girls didn't talk to you! Nothing was about girls, only why they kept ignoring you," explained Stan. Ford blinked few times, his face making pretty good impression of confuesed owl. Stanley was smugly smiling: "I've knew the whole time that you are not straight. 'm glad that Pa never knew about it thou. He would kick ya out too, maybe beat ya...Ya would never make it out unharm, on the streets..." "You were the one that ended up there... I can not forgive myself," two big tears started to roll down. Ford tried to dry them with his sleeve. "Poindexter, let it be. We are here, we are good..." "And gay," added Ford with tiny smile. Roaring of Stan's laught filled the room: "YEAH, we are gay! SO ... Who was that cutie? First crush?" His eyebrows wiggled in devilish way. "First crush, first love and only one. He took my heart without asking and never gave it back..." His brother wrapped arm around his shoulders. "You are old sappy man, Ford." "I know. I... Everything could be so different." "What happened?" asked younger twin. He hated seeing Ford depressed. "First time he went back to his family, after a while he had one too. And later when we found each other... Portal happened." "Sixer! I ... I caused...! Did I....?" Stanford grabbed old photos. He hold them on his chest, close to his fast-beating heart. "It was my fault, we had huge arguement and split up. I should have listened to him, but i was the biggest idiot on this Earth!" Stanley suddenly gasped. "You were dating McGucket?! Old man MCGUCKET?! Oh holy hot Belgian waffles!" "Kids aren't home," snarkyly pointed out Ford still carressing his pictures. "In that case- FUCK!" Small smile crept on scientist's face. "May i tell you a story, Lee?" asked Ford. He looked way younger now. Shy blush on his cheeks, still a bit teary eyes behind glasses. But they were light up with memories. "Yep, ya nerd. I haven't heard romantic novel for a long time! Ok i saw one last night. But i want to hear yar romance," beamed happily Stan and made himsleft comfortable. He was now sprawled on sofa, legs streched infront of him, hands folded on his soft belly. "So...Tell me yar fairytale, bro-bro." "Lee you are so silly," nudged Stan's elbow Ford playfully. "Fine. Long time ago... Ok, i am really getting old and silly. We were college roomates. I liked him first time i saw him. He was true opposite of me. Emotinal, empathic, wonderfully talented. His genius was amazing. After a while we got closer and closer. Fidds was so carring, nearly motherly. You should saw him when i was ill. I phoned dad, that i needed some money... to see a doctor, cause i felt really awful. He... shouted at me- to be a man and sleep it off. So i tried it. And fainthed during one of our classes we had together. Fidds did knew what to do, he took care about me. Got me to our room, helped in bed where i stayed for next week barely knowing about world. I don't remember much, my fever was too high. All seemed like a dream. After i got better i found him sitting on the window frame. His eyes were looking into starry night, silently crying. He was aftraid about me whole week and...He finally snapped... We started dating few days later." Ford had tears on his cheeks while he hold old pictures like precious treasure. His hands were clutching them, only gems he had from his past. Someone knock on the door frame. Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket stood there. He was dressed in jeans, silly shirt with watermelons and drinks on it. He had crazy bowler hat with daisy that kept danggling. Still with beard that could belong to the oldest wizzard in the Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons, but under it was hidden smile. "I swear Stanferd, ma biggest mistake was leaving ya. And i fool made it twice!" Stanley looked at them with squint eyes trying to seem like he fall asleep. "Stop foolin' us, ya'r great conman, but that's horrible try," laugh Fidds hopping on the sofa from Ford's free side. He covered one six-fingered hand with his small one. They fitted perfectly, like two pieces of puzzles. Maybe their hands were a bit cold, but hearts were still aflame with passion and love. "I guess now i've to keep an eye on two nerds," sighed Stanley. "Have fun ya two, i am gonna go to... Don't know. Want a coffee?" "Yeah we will join you," smiled Ford when Fiddleford hugged his waist. "Yej, coffee is great idea pals!" "Gentlemen, we will have gayffee party!" clasped his big hands Stanley and went to the kitchen, chuckling because he liked that new horrible pun. Ford froze a bit and then shouted: "Do not tell this term in front of Mable! Or we all end up covered in rainbow glitters! I don't mind them but i certainly don't like to drink them with my coffee!" "WHO SAID SOMETHING ABOUT RAINBOW GLITTEEEEEERS???????!" "Mabel, calm down! Honey, put that bottle of rainbow disaster down!"
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aliceslantern · 4 years ago
Text
Heartlines, a Kingdom Harts fanfic, chapter 28--Epilogue
Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.
Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.
Chapter summary:  Time passes. The kingdom recovers. A prophecy comes full circle.
Read it on FF.net/on AO3
---
Life was a work in progress. There were periods of unrest in the kingdom which were not always easy to smooth over with words, but Ansem did not want to use force. “Remember, Ienzo, a riot is the language of the unheard.”
Flowers began to bloom in Radiant Garden again. There was still signs of destruction everywhere--rubble, smashed out windows, destroyed buildings. But piece by piece, it was getting put together. The resistance based itself in the capital city and started what it called a “restoration committee,” not just to restore the city, but the whole kingdom.
Demyx spent a lot of time at the beach with Amalia, now that they both had their forms. Ienzo wondered if it would be salt in wounds to go to Destiny Islands at some point. He would ask when he felt ready.
Something else was growing too.
When he felt the nausea, the fatigue and dizziness, and the achiness, Ienzo did not delude himself into denial as he did the last time. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, good and hard. He held his hand in front of his stomach and reached out, tentatively. Something was there, a potential for a new life. But he did not feel the overwhelmed sense of panic he had when he was first pregnant with Amalia. He was still young, ridiculously so, but would this be so terrible?
He sought Even, who was busy puttering around the labs. There was light in his eyes again, joy, at having something productive to do. In fact, he did not seem bothered by Ienzo’s interruption. “No bureaucratic nonsense today?”
“My father insisted I take the morning off.”
“Your daughter?”
“Out swimming. I swear, sometimes I have difficulty getting the two of them to come home.”
“...It is good, to see Demyx happy again. I was… concerned.”
“Were you? You could barely stand each other in the beginning.”
Even rolled his eyes and pulled off his goggles. “Adversity draws people together,” he said. “I wonder often… if I have hardened my heart too much. I am trying… to let people back in.”
“And how is that going?”
He considered. “It is going,” he said. “But better than being stalled. Good to be… active. And to see you some semblance of safe at last.”
Ienzo came a bit closer. He was working on one of the replicas, a faceless white mannequin half covered with a sheet. “Does it feel good to see your work come to fruition?”
“It is bittersweet--putting it mildly.” He sighed. “If not for… that creature’s breakthroughs, this would not be possible.”
“It is still your creation.” Ienzo paused. “Even, have you met Xion?”
He fussed with tubes of mystery fluid. “Who?”
“Xion, Xemnas’s… ward. I shall have to introduce you.”
His eyes snapped up. “Why?”
“Because she is one of the replicas.”
“Of whom?”
“Of nobody. Herself.”
Even grasped his shoulders. “And you only tell me this now, boy?”
“Please be gentle with me, Even.”
He seemed to be reeling. “...Why?”
“I find myself to be in an indelicate condition. As it were.”
He turned red. “ Again ? Child, you know what causes that, right?”
Ienzo chuckled. “Would it be so terrible, to get the childrearing over with while my father is still able to help me rule?”
Even pressed a hand to his forehead and sputtered wordlessly. After a moment, he composed himself and held a hand over Ienzo’s stomach. “...Quite. I do not know whether to laugh… or cry…”
“Go seek Xion. She’s a guard on the upper floors. I know that’s where your heart is.”
He was already taking his coat off, grabbing a tablet computer. “Yes… right… we can discuss this later…” And he was out the door.
Ienzo returned to their rooms. To his surprise, Demyx and Amalia were back. “Done for the day already?”
Demyx gestured out the window. “It’s gonna storm. Plus I figured I owe you some lunch.” He leaned forward to kiss him, and Ienzo could taste the salt.
“Ra!” Amalia said.
“Right, rain.” Ienzo crouched down and smoothed the wet hair from her face.
“I’m gonna get cleaned up. What do you feel like? There’s this new place that’s opened back up not far out of the gates--”
Ienzo followed him into the bathroom. Demyx laughed a little.
“Look, I’d be so down, but like, she’s right in the other room--”
“I’m pregnant.” He didn’t know why the words had to leave him now, without ceremony.
Demyx just blinked. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“Oh…” A small smile. “Oh… Do you want to--”
“I… want them.” He swallowed. “Get it over with while we’re young, right? While my father is still helping me? I can’t imagine going through this while being fully responsible for everything else.”
Demyx hugged him. “Round two?”
“...It seems so. I mean, to be fair, we were not the least bit careful, and it has been happening quite a lot lately--”
He kissed his forehead. “They’re going to be great.”
---
As it stormed later that night… Ienzo lay awake. He’d been even more of an insomniac during pregnancy, and he hadn’t much missed that. But he could not sleep. Demyx, who could basically sleep at will, had one arm draped over his stomach.
A particularly loud peal of thunder made Demyx stir, and from the other room Ienzo heard Amalia shriek and start to cry. Demyx’s eyes fluttered open. “It’s okay,” Ienzo told him. “I’ve got this. Go back to sleep.”
The drawing room had been turned into a nursery more fully now, the soft light of the mobile reflecting the rain in the room. Amalia was still crying. Ienzo leaned over the crib and hefted her into his arms. He settled in the old rocking chair. “It’s just a storm, sweetheart,” he said.
“Bad,” she said. “Bad, bad.”
“I know. It scared you.” He rocked gently. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe. How about a story?”
Ienzo told her a story he’d learned from Demyx, about a rainbow fish that gradually gave up its scales to help others. He let his power cast a quiet illusion along the walls, of a deep blue sea, of that same fish swimming seemingly in midair. Somewhere in this, she fell back asleep, and rather than put her back in her crib, Ienzo remained there, thinking.
She hadn’t mentioned a sibling in the Forecast. Her words had been “we live with dad and grandpa in the castle”. If he gave birth on schedule, that child would be her age by the time of the Forecast.
But at the same time, toddlers were selfish. It could’ve just slipped her mind. Perhaps she was closer to Even or Ansem than her own sibling. Ienzo took a deep breath. Part of pregnancy was being illogically anxious.
It would be fine.
---
Perhaps it was for this reason, but Ienzo kept news of this child from Ansem. A few weeks passed, tremulously. He kept at work, meeting officials, sitting in committee meetings, deciding, deciding. Helping organize a parliamentary election.
After one such meeting, he was gathering his papers to return to his study when he felt a cramp, hard. He gasped aloud. “Are you alright, your highness?” Lydia asked. She was back to her post as librarian, and she’d brought him some books.
He blinked. “I’m… fine,” he said woodenly. Cramping during the first few months was normal, wasn’t it? Might be worth getting himself examined anyway. “It is nothing.”
“...Alright. Well, pardon me for overstepping, but perhaps you might rest. It’s been a long day.”
He swallowed, trying to choke down the dread. “I shall. Thank you.”
He made his way back not towards his rooms, but towards Even. The pain stuck him hard under the heart, and he had to duck into a bathroom before he lost composure. He wasn’t sure what whisper of an instinct told him so, but he pulled down his pants and checked his underwear.
Blood. A not-insignificant amount. He stuffed one of the small folded hand towels between his legs--mentally apologizing to the launderers--and hazily kept going. He almost stumbled getting the lab door open. “Even,” he said, and perhaps it was his tone, but the man immediately looked up.
“Ienzo, what--”
“Something isn’t right. With the baby.”
He grabbed him immediately and herded him over to one of the replicas’ exam tables. “And yet you drag yourself all the way down here instead of going to the infirmary.”
“I wasn’t--I didn’t want--”
He touched his face. “I know, love. Wait--are you--”
The blood must’ve seeped through the hand towel. “Fuck,” Ienzo murmured. He felt the coldness of Even’s magic assessing him.
He turned pale. “Ienzo, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
“But is it--”
“There’s no heartbeat, and you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. There’s no… life.”
Another cramp overtook him. “They weren’t in the Forecast--I tried to convince myself it was not so--”
“I know. I know, love. We should get you to the infirmary--”
“Please, no.” He felt more wetness between his legs.
“You’re losing too much blood to justify receiving care from only me.”
How awkward, and humiliating. Even carried him like a child. Hazily, he was changed, cleaned, given something to absorb the blood, fluids, painkillers. He let himself ride this quasi-consciousness, until a hand took his. “Zo?”
“Demyx? I--I’m sorry…” He swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. “I lost it…” His hair obscured things from view.
“The important thing is you’re okay.”
“She didn’t mention them, I should’ve known--”
Demyx drew him close and held him for a long time.
---
It took him a while to recover from the miscarriage. Not so much physically--he was back to “normal” within several days--but emotionally he felt scrambled, exhausted. He did not know it was possible to love something so small so much.
Ansem insisted he take time off. Demyx waited on him hand and foot, but he was shaken too. Ienzo slept too much, could barely look at Amalia. He was taking a bath, his mind positively going nowhere, eyes unfocused on the ceiling tiles, when he heard small footsteps. “Da-dee?”
Wearily, he looked over. “What is it, love?”
She was holding her favorite stuffed animal, a unicorn she’d named Pinky. She offered it to him.
“Thank you, but I don’t want Pinky to get wet.” He set the toy on the chair by the tub.
She leaned over the lip of the tub. “Hurt?” she said.
“I’m just tired, love.”
“Hurt,” she asserted.
Ienzo sighed. “Yes, I’m sad. You know it’s okay to be sad sometimes, right?”
She nodded. “Help?”
He kissed her. “You already are.”
---
Perhaps because it was through this particular lens of sadness, but suddenly it seemed strange that he, governed so by emotions, be the one responsible for the welfare of this country. He, whose sole “mandate to rule” was his power. Why was it that, despite humanity’s long and colorful history in this country, there had never been strides made towards democracy, or anything other than absolute power?
There had been abdications, in the past. Ienzo found himself reading about them voraciously. There had been some good reasons for such actions--fundamental disagreements about faith and the way the country should be governed, a lack of acceptance of sexuality or gender, the heir apparent believing they were not competent enough--and some not so. Considering the convoluted transfer of power, from firstborn to firstborn only , it was amazing the monarchy had not collapsed under its weight or lost its power somewhere in the past. Should the firstborn, say, die in a tragic accident, or from an aneurysm prior to having an heir, that power was simply lost for a generation. And should that first child be sufficiently… along , enough in utero, and something were to happen to them, that counted.
Ienzo needed to talk to Ansem. “Father?”
He took off his glasses. “What is it?”
“Can I talk to you?”
He offered a smile. “Of course. How are you feeling, dear heart?”
He sighed and sat down. “This has all been very… overwhelming.”
“I’m sure. Loss of a child… even one that is not yet living… is very heavy stuff indeed.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about… mortality. Human weakness. Limitations of the body.” He found himself looking at his knees. “The fragility of my… power. How does it make me qualified to rule? The child I lost… could very well have been Amalia, some months along the line. Suddenly that power is gone.” He touched his abdomen. “Father, this whole monarchy… is starting to feel very…”
“Pointless?” He rubbed his brows. “I agree entirely. But the last thing people need right now is a radical change in government. We’re only just settling. Imagine what might happen if we suddenly propose some other form of rule?”
“...I know.”
“Once this is all over… I’m wondering if we should…”
“...Abdicate?” He cocked his head slightly.
Ienzo took a breath. “Am I a traitor for even thinking it?”
“Oh, Ienzo. No. Not at all. Class division is part of how we got into this mess in the first place. That you seek to abolish it shows your love for your people. Perhaps it might be worth it to consider the schema as to how this will be put in place.”
Ienzo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Truthfully?”
“Truly.”
“...Thank you.”
---
Time passed.
Amalia was growing so quickly . She started to speak more clearly, in longer sentences. She started to show more magic. Once, Ienzo walked into her room and saw books hanging in the air all around them. “Look,” she said. “They’s flying.”
Demyx expressed his own desire to do work of some kind. “People need art,” he told Ienzo. “They’re going to need a way to deal with all that pain.” Together, they jumpstarted a national art program. To finally be active, to finally be helping people in a meaningful way… Ienzo felt… fulfilled.
This was all going to take work, probably constantly. But that there might be a day where they could have a simple, happy life with their family gave him pleasure.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, but one spring day Amalia asked if they could go on a picnic. The day was sunny, the flowers were in bloom. He was sitting on a blanket on a patch of grass in the plaza. He worked the teardrop-shaped pendant absently with one hand. He knew that at some point they'd have to formally get married as long as he was in the public eye. But for now... this was enough.
“Daddy, look!” She opened her hands, revealing a small magic flower. “I made it!”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s beautiful.” The deja vu struck him with insistence.
She smiled widely, and reached to be picked up, so he did. “Can we go to the garden?”
“Of course.” Demyx was supposed to meet them there after his lesson in the city. He took the picnic blanket and set off.
“Do you think this is real?”
“What do you mean, love?”
“This. Right now.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I dunno… a ‘motion I had.”
“A feeling?” Ienzo offered. Then, “I had a dream when I was pregnant with you.”
“When I was in your tummy?”
“That’s right. And you sent me a memory, of this moment, right now.”
“What I say?”
“You told me about our friends. The ones who met you when you were a baby.”
She laughed. “Isa and mister Xemnas.”
“Yes. You told me everything I needed to know. It’s because of you this is all like this, you know?”
“I know,” she said, unimpressed. “Where’s daddy?”
“He’s on his way.”
They passed through the castle gates to the gardens, which were lush and full again. Aerith was tending to the flowers; she waved. “Hi flower lady,” Amalia called loudly.
“Hey yourself,” she said back.
Ienzo set down the blanket on a patch of clean glass.
“There’s my favorite girl.” Demyx set down the sitar. He scooped her up and gave her a kiss. “Did she give you much trouble?”
“Not today. Not yet. Did you get the i-c-e c-r-e-a-m?”
“Ice cream!” Amalia shouted.
“Zo, she’s too smart for that.” Demyx laughed. “Sold out, I’m afraid.”
Ienzo sighed. He’d been looking forward to it all day.
“But I did get these from someone at the lesson.” He handed Ienzo a bag with a pastry box inside. “Egg tarts. Several people told me they are to die for.” He sat down with their daughter.
Ienzo took them out and handed one to Amalia. “...Do you know,” he began. “Today’s the day.”
Demyx frowned. “What day?”
“It all came full circle. The Forecast. On the way over here.”
“Oh… wow. Really?”
He smiled. “And the future is again aqueous.”
“Like that’s a bad thing? Look, if we knew every minute, we’d always be trying to plan things. We wouldn’t get to decide.” He brushed a crumb from their daughter’s mouth. “Because of her… and you… we do now. I’m okay with that.”
“I… am too.” He swallowed.
“It’ll be us against the world.” His eyes were so soft.
“I know that.” He chuckled. “It’s terrifying, to have the choice. I think I’d like to finish university first.”
“School, school,” Amalia said eagerly. “Me and daddy go to school.” She was going to go to nursery school in the fall.
“Daddy’s going to school for big kids,” Demyx said to her. “You’re going with kids your age. Little.”
“Not little.” She huffed, then brightened. “School and make lots of friends!”
“She’s like you all right,” Ienzo said.
“Dunno. She’s too smart for her own good--like you.”
“I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up,” Ienzo admitted.
“I wanna be a cat doctor. Or a rockstar. Or maybe…” Amalia stuck out her tongue in thought. “Wanna be an explorer .”
“You already are, silly.” Demyx tickled her, and she squealed.
“I do still want to help people. Maybe psychology, or…” He trailed off. “To be determined.”
“Well, you’ve got time.” Demyx picked up one of the egg tarts and all but crammed it into Ienzo’s mouth.
He scowled, but then, “These are good.”
“Right?”
---
The sun was setting. Ienzo watched it from his alcove in the library. This was his favorite spot, its light, its smell of varnished wood and old books. But he wasn’t reading.
“...It is lovely, isn’t it?”
Ienzo looked up and saw Even, for once without his lab coat, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Where were you?”
“I was… with your father. I’m afraid he made me take a walk in the garden.”
Ienzo felt his lips twitch into a smile. “Well, was it a nice walk?”
He wondered if he was imagining the blush. “It is good to get fresh air,” he said evasively. He leaned against the desk next to Ienzo. “So I hear you’re to… abdicate.”
“In several years, once things settle, but… yes. And Demyx will abdicate on Amalia’s behalf. No more royalty. Whatever we have left will simply be ceremonial, if that.”
Even chuckled gently. “All the time I spent defending the monarchy, and you’re giving it up. You are making me gray, child.” But he said this pleasantly. “Yes… change is not so bad. The world needed it. We needed it. We could not… run forever.”
“Do you feel good, to no longer be running?”
“I do,” he admitted. “I felt such a coward for so many years. To get my hands dirty is a relief.”
“I have to thank you, for all you’ve done for me. I took you for granted.”
Even reached over and brushed the hair out of his face. “Well raising you certainly wasn’t easy.”
He laughed a little.
“In all seriousness, Ienzo, I didn’t do it entirely out of duty. I loved you--and I still love you--as if you were my own. Bonds don’t change, the… lines between hearts.”
“Heartlines?” He raised his eyebrow. “My father must be rubbing off on you. You were never so philosophical.”
“I am trying to open my heart.” He put a hand to his chest. “And it is painful, but I feel I am… growing. Never thought I would have to at my age.”
“And what of things with Xion?”
“She is a lovely girl. She’ll do well once she starts school. We’re trying to spend time together. In a way… she is my child.” A sigh. “Though this research… what right have I to create new life?”
“You saved many who would be the seeker of darkness’s victims.”
“...A cold comfort.” He tapped his fingertips together. “Come, then. That husband of yours is attempting to cook.”
Ienzo felt a shimmer at “husband”, but was it not true? Ceremony or no ceremony. “He’s a good cook, Even, you just have an unenlightened palette.” He stood and together they began to walk.
“...I’ll just chalk it up to cultural differences. I suppose… all of this could’ve been much worse, yes?”
“It could’ve.” He paused. “Will we… once I leave this place, Even, will we still be part of one another’s lives?”
He seemed perturbed. “Of course, Ienzo. Always.” He squeezed his hand. “Don’t fear change the way I did.”
“I won’t.” He swallowed, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion. “I promise, I won’t.”
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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago
Text
Survey #313
“i’m your turbo lover  /  tell me there’s no other”
Where are you located at this moment? In my bed. What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Sara, I'm finding out who the fuck I'm flying up there to punch his face in. If it was Jason, I'd either faint or be in the bathroom vomiting. Or both. I can almost promise you at least one or the other while I have an absolute emotional breakdown. I'm not at the point in my recovery where I can hear that and be entirely okay. I'd be happy for any of the others. At what age do you think you'll be ready to have children? Never. When was the last time you couldn't stop laughing? Why? I don't recall. Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I guess Girt, since he's known my mom the longest of the friends I still have. I don't know about Dad; he barely knows any of my friends seeing as I don't live with him and see him rarely. Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? No. Can you recall the last time you were extremely disappointed? I surprisingly can't remember, even though I know it was recent. Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I don't know, it's not like I go hunting people down if I notice the number has dropped, lol. Do you know why he/she decided to un-friend you? I'm certain it would've been something political. Are there any food wrappings, boxes, containers etc. in your room? No. Do you know anyone who does have cancer? I don't think anyone who currently has it, no. I may know someone via association, but idk. What is the worst medicine you've ever taken? There are two that very strongly stand out: the first one was in middle school, and the second sometime last year. I was put on an antidepressant that made me absolutely love life in the morning, like I would practically prance through school, but come afternoon, I was a fucking demon. Mom took me off that shit so fast. Most recently, my birth control was changed to have more estrogen for some reason I can't recall (maybe it had to do with mood?? idk), and it made me... I'm just gonna say I was a ~mess~. I slammed on breaks with it so fuckin fast. Safe to say I returned to my normal pill. Has your house or where you stayed ever flooded? My childhood home came very close during Hurricane Floyd. Thankfully the water never got actually inside the house, but it was an absolute lake outside. What was the last event or special occasion you participated in? My niece's birthday was actually a couple days ago, so we celebrated at my sister's house. What do you find yourself reminiscing about the most? I'll give you one guess. Do you have a favorite pianist? No. Song you listened to last is...? I have "Turbo Lover" by Judas Priest on right now. What's the last type of cookie you ate? Uhhh I would assume chocolate chip. Do you have your own computer? I have my own laptop, and I'm possibly getting an actual computer come May?? One of my WoW friends knows the hell I've been through with this laptop, and she and her husband are getting new computers then, so she's basically pushed her husband's old one on me, lol. Apparently it works just fine, he just wants something better. I've told her again and again to make some money off of it, but she's pretty much giving me no choice lmao. I appreciate it a whole lot, though. It'd be pretty nice to separate games onto an actual, capable desktop versus making my laptop sound like it's screaming for God's mercy if I boot something up. Describe your computer chair? I don't have one. Well, there's an old one in the extra room I'm going to end up using, but all I know is it's black. I've never paid closer attention to it. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? Open. I feel too isolated with it closed. Are you going to keep your last name when you get married? God no, it's very unlikely. I hate my last name, take it away. Does it bother you when people beg? Why are they begging, and how insistently? It depends. Do you have any weird rings? I have two, but neither I consider weird, at least. Well, I suppose the one with "bitch" carved on the inside would confuse non-Supernatural fans, haha. Are you anything like your siblings? Not really, no. At least, my two immediate sisters. Mom says I'm extremely similar to her eldest daughter though and wishes we'd talk more, but yeah, I just don't have anything to talk about with her. I'm so bad at initiating conversation. When was the last time you shaved your legs? October for when I was doing that witchy photoshoot with a friend. I absolutely hate shaving my legs and pretty much only do if anyone else whose opinion would affect me may see them. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Uhhh I guess all the "upgrades" I want to make to Venus' enclosure: a 40g tank and a nice, accurate hygrometer and thermometer, as well as the proper kind of lamp for her. I feel like such a "bad snake mom" still having her in her current terrarium because, while it's perfectly liveable and not dangerous, it's too small for her. It's pretty much always on my mind to some degree nowadays, so just like, dropping the terrarium and extra tools off would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No, but I was able to skip the intro Writing course the last time I was in college; I just started in Writing II. Who took your profile pic? Anywhere where it's a picture of myself, odds are me. I hate getting pictures taken, but if it's gonna happen, it'll be through myself, knowing my "good" angle and such, lol. Have you ever been fishing? Do you know anyone who likes fishing as a hobby? I've been fishing many times, especially as a kid with my dad. There are pleeeenty of people I know who enjoy it. I don't anymore. Do you own any cats? What color are their eyes? Yes; his are a light blue. Is there a rose bush in your garden? What color are its roses? We don't have a garden. When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Over $100 with my own cash, a plane ticket. My recent tattoo deposit was exactly a hundred. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No; Roman would NEVER allow me to cuddle anything else, and I am not even remotely kidding. I couldn't care less if any adult does, though. Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? Ew, neither, but I guess a book would be better just so my eyes weren't forever scarred. What’s your favorite way to make your home smell good? Do you spend a lot of money on making this happen? INCENSE!!!! God, I love incense burners. I don't light it anymore though because Venus' terrarium is also in my room, and it's not good for snakes. What are the main two colors in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colors out yourself? Just... white. That's it. Well, my furniture is brown. I didn't pick either. How often do you wake up in the night needing to pee? Usually once, sometimes not at all anymore. I guess my bladder actually grew a pair. If you live in a household with pets, who is responsible for their care - both in terms of finance and the physical tasks involved? As far as the physical care, me. Mom does help me do a full clean of Venus' cage sometimes, though, because I don't trust myself to both keep her around my neck while I scrub the tank, hide, bowl, etc., with a cat that is my absolute shadow. I don't want to be bent over the tub and Roman tries to do something; he's shown very little interest in Venus, but still, I'm one hell of a paranoid snake mom that doesn't want to risk her life. Full cleans only happen like twice a year, so I don't mind too much asking my mother for some help. I should point out that Mom doesn't want to hold her, so we can't reverse roles. Do you have anything hanging from your ceiling apart from lights? Not anymore, no. At my old house and the one before, I had lots of Pyramid Head gift tags hanging, but our landlord doesn't want me to do that here. Would you describe yourself as neat, messy or somewhere in-between? I'm in-between. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them needed to go the vets? Venus had to go to the vet about a year into me having her because she was showing symptoms of an RI in strange breathing episodes, which can be fatal to a snake. Thank God, nature, whatever, that she didn't. There were warning signs, but closer watch over her humidity saved her. Roman, meanwhile, was taken to the vet like a year ago to be neutered. When the pandemic is over, what is one thing you can’t wait to do again? I barely ever left the house beforehand, so... I guess go to the movies. What’s one thing (aside from essentials) that you spend the most money on each month? Has anyone ever told you you’re obsessed or addicted with it? N/A What’s your favourite genre of TV show to watch? What’s your favourite show that’s not from that genre? If I had to pick, uhhh... yeah, idk, due to the whole "not into TV much to begin with" thing. Would you rather be employed or self-employed? Why? Self-employed, though taking care of all business matters yourself is/would suck. I just really want to be my own boss for the sake of photographing whatever I want. IIs your hair naturally curly, straight or somewhere in between? Do you wish it was different? It's straight, but on the wavy side, and I wish it wasn't. Do you ever play online games with your friends? Which one(s)? Just WoW. In the last week, have you had any alcoholic beverages? Which? No. Do you ever wear accessories in your hair? Which ones? No. Do you feel free to post your views on social media? Yep. I honestly don't care who it pisses off. What is your favorite work of historical fiction? Well, I don't really know what you consider truly "historical" in age... That, and I'm bad at dates to begin with. There are lots and lots of older books and movies I adore, though. Old Yeller is one of my favorite books ever, for one. The Boy In The Striped Pajamas makes me sob, too. What cartoon character looks like you? I remember when Hotel Transylvania came out, my ex's mob pointed out how much she thought I looked like the daughter, especially when my hair was dyed black. Do you have hope for the future? Some days I do, some days I don't. Do you believe in yourself? Ehhhh... debatable, idk. Do you have trouble letting go of your past? Oh yes. Were you happy in high school? It's funny, I was very depressed in HS, but due to Jason and friends, it's one of my most cherished time periods. Were you ever a teacher's favorite? I mean it modestly, but I was almost always pretty obviously one of the teachers' favorites. I was a good student. Are you popular? I wasn't. If you won a title in the senior class polls, what was it? I didn't. Have you ever had a medical condition that made you unable to work? My social anxiety is so debilitating that it's made it questionable. It ruined my very short-lived previous jobs. What makes your life worth living? My future goals, family, friends... What is your favorite Bible verse? I don't have one. List five careers you've considered. Paleontologist, vet, game designer, author, and wildlife biologist are all past ones. Do you have any unusual talents? If so, what? No. What do you get compliments on? My hair and my art, mostly. What have people told you you should be? I've heard "a vet" most in my life. What is holding you back? My (mostly social) anxiety and extreme fear of judgment. Do you have anyone purely evil in your life? Hell no, I wouldn't allow that person to stay in my life. Have you ever felt threatened for your life? I've felt scared for it, yes. While riding my bike once, I ran into a guy in my old neighborhood who had a criminal history, including assault, just asking what I was listening to on my iPod. I stopped because I was scared to keep going, and he wound up asking for my Facebook, but guess who didn't accept THAT friend request. List ten positive words that describe you. That's too much thinking, man. List ten negative words that [you feel] describe you. And that's too much negativity to fish in. Are you a good person or a bad person? I mean, I try to be a good one. Have you ever contemplated being a bad person? I've done bad things, but I've certainly never deliberated tried to be an overall bad person. Have you ever resorted to vandalism because you didn't have a voice? No. Have you ever egged someone's house? Wow, no. Do you want to egg someone's house? Also no because I'm a fucking adult. Have you ever seen a piece of graffiti that you are thankful for? What an odd question. I mean, no? Name three people who hurt you and didn't care. I am quite positive Colleen doesn't care about the many times she did considering she's always right. Was your first crush sexual, or no? No, I was just a kid. What would you do if you got pregnant right now? I honestly can't say I know. If I was God forbid raped, I'd probably have an abortion because I psychologically could not handle that without being scarred for life. If it was by my own stupidity, I feel I'd probably have the baby but give it up for adoption. I just can't raise a kid. Do you have a medical condition that you are embarrassed or ashamed to tell people you have? No, I don't think so. What do you get asked the most? Hm. OH, WAIT, THAT'S EASY. I get asked a lot if my lip piercing hurt. Have you ever stood up for someone else who was being bullied? I know I have before, but I don't remember the occasion. What tragic news stories that you've heard has touched you the most? Man, that's a lot to think about. You see news articles on Facebook all the time, and a whole lot of them touch me, so I dunno. What is your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? I like the cheese quesadillas, and whatever those cinnamon bites are called are really good. I'm still tilted they got rid of the fiesta potatoes, because I adored those. Where do you have cutting scars (if you have any)? I only ever had them on my wrist, but you can't see them anymore. Do you like cotton candy? Not very, but I mean, I can have a bite or two. It's way too sweet to eat a lot of it. What's the best piece of graffiti you've ever seen? I'm unsure, but I've definitely seen beautiful work, especially online. Do you like tattoos? "Like" is a colossal understatement. Do you like piercings? Yep yep yep. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Those are not people I hang around with. Who is the last person you slow-danced with? Slow-danced? I don't think I've done that since Jason.
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feistypaants-archived · 5 years ago
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False Positive [Chapter 8]
Rating: M Words: 2185 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When things don’t go according to plan and Anna finds herself alone and pregnant, she looks to her sister’s best friend, Kristoff, and almost makes a huge mistake.
[Chapter Index]
Where To Read: [AO3]
Notes: .... :^) things are happening. Also Honey tormenting Elsa with the idea of her sister and best friend fucking might be my new fave thing to write so..... 
UNEDITED AS HELL. Next chapter will .... be posted for a certain event that’s happening next week :D
Enjoy!
Kristoff had been waiting patiently while Anna got ready. He knew it took a little longer these days because she was tired and sore, but they were bordering on being late… and you were not late to a Bjorgman function, especially not one being thrown for you.
“Anna? You almost ready?”
“Yeah! Coming!”
She came bouncing down the hallway, and Kristoff felt his throat tighten as he looked up at her. It wasn’t the soft green sundress that flowed around her thighs, or her hair down in messy curls around her shoulders, but instead the warm glow of her skin and the bright shine in her eyes took him by surprise. He stood up, wiping his hands down his jeans, and smiled softly.
Taking a step towards her, Kristoff paused when she started digging through her purse. “Should we be bringing something? I feel like I should have made something. Should we stop and pick up —“
He laughed and lifted his hands to her shoulders. “It’s fine,” he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear and relished in the blush that tinted her cheeks. “It’s my mom, she’s going to have made more than is physically possible to eat anyway.”
Anna nodded and let out a sigh.
Then finally they were out the door.
The drive to his childhood home wasn’t long, but it was clear that Anna was nervous and uncomfortable. This was the first time they had to spend a significant amount of time with anyone besides Elsa, and Anna never really liked lying - especially to someone who she looked at like a second mother. Kristoff wouldn’t lie, he felt a bit guilty too, but it wasn’t like this was some stranger who was trying to con them out of money. It was Anna. 
Kristoff leaned over, placed a large hand over her knee and squeezed gently. “It’s gonna be fine.”
She jumped slightly but looked up at him with a smile. 
“I know.”
There were strings of balloons hung up on the mailbox, tacky little decorations all over the yard, and a giant sign stating IT’S A BOY! hung above the doorway. Kristoff thought it was bordering on too much, but Anna hopped out of the car with pure excitement taking over her face. 
Kristoff shut off the car, grabbed her purse that she forgot, and walked around to meet her. “Ready?”
Anna nodded and, with her hands around her stomach protectively, tried her best to skip to the door. 
They were greeted with big hugs from the whole family, Kristoff’s sisters holding Anna at arm's length to look at her tummy while his brothers clapped him on the back in congratulations, and Elsa stood off to the side, that disapproving look on her face burning a hole in Kristoff’s back.
He took the hint, and excused himself. 
“Heeey,” he started, his voice dragging out the vowel. “How’s it going?”
Elsa did not look amused, her one eyebrow cocking up at him. “Kristoff…”
“I know, I know.”
She sighed and put her hands up to his biceps, forcing him to face her. “You don’t have to do all of this, you know. Anna and I… We can handle it, if you don’t want…”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, I’m…” A laugh. “I’m actually really excited?”
“... You are?”
“... Yeah.”
Elsa’s eyes searched his before she sighed. “Are you guys going to get together?”
Now he froze.
“I know you’ve had feelings for her since we were kids and even if you didn’t know it or didn’t want to act on it I think it’s important that you —“
“I’m going to tell her.”
She stopped and a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “You are?”
When Kristoff nodded, Elsa just leaned forward and hugged him, no more words needed. This wasn’t the first time she had suggested they date, but she always respected that Kristoff needed to come to the idea himself. She always understood that he needed to decide he wanted a relationship before he would even chance anything with Anna.
Anna hollered over at them and they both immediately turned their attention towards her. “Bulda says she has something special for us, Kris!”
Elsa winked at him before shoving him towards the gathering of chairs.
Anna grabbed his hand and led him to the large oversized chair, mainly used for story time with the kids, sat him down, and plopped herself down between his thighs. His hands moved automatically to her shoulders, squeezing her tense muscles between his fingers. She sighed gratefully and leaned closer to his chest while everyone gathered around and sat in a big circle.
“Now,” Bulda started, her eyes glued to his hands on Anna’s skin. “Even though this might’ve started out as a mistake, I can’t help but see it as a blessin’. Kristoff here has just needed a little push to settle down and —“
He coughed, staring her down.
“Anyway.” There was a small moment of awkward silence in the room, but Bulda pushed on. “There’s something special that I was savin’ for you, ever since you were little and we took you in.”
Bulda reached back behind the stack of presents and produced a large, lopsided present. 
“I probably should have given it to you years ago, but I wanted to make sure it stayed safe and protected.”
Kristoff and Anna both received the present together, tugging at the ribbons that held it all together. As it opened, Kristoff dropped one hand to Anna’s belly, rubbing a soft circle as she pulled the wrapping paper apart. From the paper came a beautiful, crisp, white and embroidered blanket. All the colors and designs stood out against the pure fabric, and Anna ran her fingers delicately across the lace detailing. 
“Ma…”
Bulda had her hands together over her mouth. “It was your mothers’, and she made sure it got to us.”
His whole throat was tight and he wasn’t sure how to react. It was stunning and he remembered it so fondly, wrapped around him as his mother held him close and sang him lullabies before she…
“Thank you.”
Anna looked between him and his mother, worrying her lip between her teeth. He knew she was thinking the same as him. If they had to split… would he keep it? Would he let her keep it? 
Kristoff folded it up and put it in Anna’s lap before reaching forward to grab his mothers’ hand, still trapped in the chair, his other hand still pressed gently against Anna’s bump.. “I didn’t even know we still had this.”
He watched Anna wipe at her eyes, avert her gaze, and smiled as she allowed them to have this moment. “It’s so beautiful, Bulda. Thank you.”
Bulda released his hands before clasping her own together in front of her heart. “I wanted to make sure it was ready for whenever you had a baby, Kristoff. And I couldn’t be more thrilled that it’s with Anna, here. I know she’ll cherish it just as much as—“
Anna stood up quickly, his hand being forced off of her stomach. “Excuse me.”
He watched everyone shrug the exit off before he stood and hugged his mother, genuinely thanking her, and left the room to find Anna. She had stepped outside, Elsa had followed, and he kept his distance as Anna paced and Elsa tried her best to soothe her little sister.
“You don’t get it, Elsa.” 
She twisted her feet into the dirt as she walked, grinding through the grass. 
“I don’t deserve all of this, okay? I don’t… I don’t deserve the kindness and the care and the love from his whole family. I don’t even deserve how Kristoff has been treating me.”
“Anna…”
He leaned against the half open door, arms crossed and heart racing, wondering if she was going to come clean to Elsa.
“He deserves so much better than me, okay? And we’re not even together! He deserves a real family with an actual wife and not this fake thing we’ve been —“
“It’s not fake, Anna.”
He froze.
“It…” Anna finally stopped pacing, clenching her dress between her fingers. He only saw now that there were tears brimming her lashes. “He’s going to be such a good dad…” His heart grew tighter. “Like, I can’t imagine anyone being a better dad.”
Anna sat onto one of the patio chairs and hugged her belly. “I don’t want to mess it up. But I think it’s just… it’s just starting messed up.”
Elsa moved to kneel in front of her and grabbed her hand. “Nothing is messed up. Anna… Kristoff and his whole family love you very much. Whether or not you guys wind up together will not change that.” 
Anna sniffled and nodded, and Kristoff shifted against the door frame to make himself known. 
“You okay, Anna?”
The sisters looked up at him, and Anna’s whole face softened. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Kristoff stepped out into the yard and held out a hand for Anna to grab. “You sure? Rest of the guests will be here soon… If you need some time…”
She stood and threw her arms around his waist, smiling as she buried her nose into his chest. “I’m sure.” 
Elsa walked by, patted his shoulder with a wink, and left them alone as Anna wiped at her nose and eyes, trying her best to look more put together. 
When he was sure no one else was around, he moved a hand to cup her head, resting his chin on top of her head. “... Do you want to tell Elsa?” She sniffed again, wiping her eyes into his shirt. Anna shook her head, but stayed quiet. 
“You know…” He swallowed hard and pulled her back far enough for her to look at him. “We don’t have to do any fake tests. We don’t have to…” Her eyes widened and he scrunched his lips to one side, trying to find the right words. “I want to be in his life. I’m going to be, as long as we’re friends. So…”
The door burst open with a holler from his youngest sister, who had clearly gotten into the wine a little early. 
“Oh loooovebirds! Party’s starting!”
Anna sighed and waved her off, pulling away from Kristoff. “Continue this at home tonight?”
He smiled, grabbed her hand and nodded. “It’s a date.”
——
The rest of the party went over without much of a hitch. They got all the last things they needed from their registry, and many things they wouldn’t have even thought to ask for. It was much too long for Kristoff’s taste, with mostly women and mostly talk of how to keep your body healthy during the last few months, and how to deal with all the postpartum issues. 
Basically things that Kristoff couldn’t really help with. So he moved to the side to stand with Elsa and their other high school friend, Honey, giving her a quick fist bump as he settled in with them.
“She okay?”
Kristoff nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Overwhelmed and tired, but I’m probably going to help her escape in a minute. After I escape for a minute.”
“What?” Elsa gasped, knocking back the last of her glass of wine. “You’re not thrilled to learn that she has to moisturize her nipples? Thought you’d like to hear all about that.”
Honey snickered behind them, lifting her own glass to her lips. “I mean, I sure like hearing about moisturized nipples. Plus, maybe you’ll get to help her.”
“Shut up,” he groaned, rolling his neck.
“Don’t talk about him touching her nipples, I swear to god.” Elsa’s whole face had morphed into a cringe, as if this was the worst thing she could ever hear about.
Honey smirked, tipping her glass. “Well hasn’t he already done more than that? Pretty sure he’s touched them and maybe even…” Her head swung around to Kristoff, red and shrinking into himself. “You a breast man, Bjorgman? You probably did nasty —“
Elsa pushed Honey away, groaning. “Let’s stop talking about this.”
“You brought them up!” Honey’s laugh echoed through the room.
“Yes, that was my first mistake.”
“Okay, bye!” He practically yelled, leaving the conversation and going right back into another one that had circled back to the possibility of her vulva tearing all the way to her a— “Hello!”
He cut them off just in time and knelt down to Anna, whose whole face was filled with terror. “Wanna go?”
“Yes, please.” Anna stood immediately, grabbing her purse off of the chair. Kristoff had taken the initiative and filled up their car with the presents ahead of time, and both of them were thankful that he did so.
They said their goodbyes, hugged more people than they could keep track of, thanked everyone and headed out, hurrying to their car and started off as quickly as they could.
“Hungry?”
After a moment of hesitation, contemplating just how much she ate at the party, but also aware that she could always eat more, Anna nodded.
“God, yes.”
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ghost-chance · 4 years ago
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Fanfiction Recommendation: “Fat. Beautiful. Tasty. Ravenous” by MoofyKitten
Title: Fat. Beautiful. Tasty. Ravenous Author: MoofyKitten on AO3/FFN/Wattpad Fandom: BNHA/My Hero Academia Rating: M/MA for a reason. (Detailed sex in over half the posted chapters. Perv away only if you’re of age!) Pairing(s): Fat Gum [Toyomitsu Taishirou] / OFC Found on: AO3
Deets Expect some light spoilers and a mini-rant.
I am an unrepentant fanfiction addict; this is no secret. There are fics I read to wind down after a rough day, fics I read to put myself to sleep in hopes of pleasant dreams, and fics I read to tear my hear into teeny tiny fragments then build it back again better than before. THEN there are fics that don’t fit the mold – the kind that I become so invested in that I physically cannot put off reading that update. THIS, my lovelies, is one of THOSE fics, and it’s earned that place from the early chapters. This story has almost everything I need from a fanfiction, and I have a feeling the rest is just around the corner.
Let’s get the basics out of the way.
The Spelling, grammar, and punctuation are all excellent – I have yet to notice a single error, so either the author and her betas are a force to be reckoned with or I’m just getting so sucked into the story an elephant could sit on me and I’d never notice. The formatting is effective and easy to follow, and the chapters have all been of a nice meaty length, perfect for plowing through in a single sitting only to realize you missed a meal and it’s time for bed and your brain is hopelessly lost in ship-land daydreaming about what’s up next. ...wait, that’s just me? My bad.
Syntax – This one requires an entire section of its own. The fact that I’m having to actually think about how well the author’s varying their syntax says they’re effing nailing it. If a story’s syntax is at all static or the sentence even the slightest bit predictable, it’s easy enough for me to recall it because I’m mentally rearranging the bits that irk or don’t impress me as I read. I can’t even get through a bleepin’ news article or an online recipe without itching to push what I’m reading up to the standards my professors held. It sounds harsh, I know, but please take  my word for it when I say I’m not criticizing anyone. Suffice it to say, if my classes did anything, they made editing so instinctive I can’t turn it off. Confession: I have never found myself rearranging a single phrase in this masterpiece. Arguing with the characters? Encouraging the characters? Begging, pleading, and berating the characters for breaking my heart time and time again by stopping just short of the sugary fluff I can just smell right around the corner? Oh, Hell yes. I’ve done all of that and more, but I’ve never found myself with the urge to grab my red pen and strike out or scooch even a single word.
Something that strikes me about this story above others I’ve given the same rating (Spoiler: there are VERY FEW!) is the sheer variety of the scenes and environments. Sounds silly? Probably, but romances often develop a certain amount of location stagnation, and I know from personal experience how difficult it can be to bust through those patterns. (I mean, the majority of “A New Lease on Life” takes place in the Lair in some room, most commonly a bedroom, the lab, or the kitchen.) This story takes the couple off of familiar and ‘safe’ turf like homes and offices and drags them through countless other places without regard for their sense of comfort. Each scene feels real and multi-dimensional and directly or indirectly influences the characters’ behavior and reactions. It’s awesome. That’s a sign the author has done her people-watching!
Now, about that OC. I’ll readily admit, in the first chapter, I had my reservations. At first glance she seemed shallow, obsessed with appearances and her own view of the world, and – strange as it may sound – too skinny and too attractive. Yes, there’s some personal bias involved there, but the majority was practical rather than emotional. BUT! Because the writer of this story is the same who unleashed the beautiful Kacchako torment Hot-Headed upon me without a single breath of remorse, I gave Aiko a chance. Sure enough, my first impressions were entirely incorrect. The things that bothered me about Aiko? They all had explanation or purpose, and she’s turned out to be a pretty well-fleshed out character...pun intended. As the story progresses we’re seeing sides of her that I hoped for but didn’t expect and each chapter leaves me wondering what we’ll learn next.
Romantic connection. First word: “OOFTA.” The second word, I’d spell out, but it’s a shrill, wordless, begging whine that I cannot translate into English for the life of me. This pairing starts without any sort of romantic connection; it skips straight to the shenanigans and leaves hope that the snugglebunnies will follow eventually. Friends…if you’ve read any of my writing before, you’ll know that I. LIVE. For. The. FLUFF. The awkward mush, the sweaty palms, the am-I-gonna-barf-or-do-I-have-a-crush, the absolutely tooth-rotting sweetness capable of sending a reader headlong into diabetes with a dopey grin and heart eyes - they’re my crack and I love them. This story started with no fluff but it’s been slowly developing in the background. It’s an entirely new situation for me! I feel like I’ve gotten used to eating my dessert first then digging into an equally sweet dinner without a moment to cleanse my palate. This story? It’s like gorging on smoky, meaty St. Louie barbecue for weeks on end with literally just a smear of something sweet as an afterthought. Mind. Frackin’. BLOWN. It turns out I’m more masochistic as a reader than I ever suspected.
Another relationship I want to cover is the building friendship between Aiko and Fat Gum – because nope, she has not managed to mentally connect the half-starved Taishiro she’s climbing like a tree with the big-and-beautiful Fat Gum who owns the agency. Yep. She thinks she’s boning Fat’s beefy little brother. It’d be funny if my heart wasn’t whining for fluff. While frustrating to fluff-starved readers, Aiko not knowing the beefcake and the brother are one and the same provides an intriguing and natural way for her to build an actual relationship with him. This means none of the fetishistic bullarkey rampant in other stories pairing plus-sized male characters with OCs.
What sort of fetishistic bullarkey am I talking about? To name a handful: I love you so lose weight. I love you because you’re big. I’m fat too so it’s okay if we’re together. Blatant fat-fetish disguised as romance. Fat character’s life absolutely revolves around food and it’s gross/nvm it’s okay. Lastly, OC’s only chance at being loved by fat character is feeding them. Maybe to thin folks those don’t sound negative but to those of us who fit the description? NOPE. These don’t make healthy relationships. Using these can turn a well-meaning pairing toxic and frankly, it tends to piss off those of us who – GASP! - accept ourselves no matter our size. These...tropes, let’s call them, have made me hesitant to even try fiction involving plus sized male characters because I’ve been let down so many times. Finding plus sized female characters is easy, especially OCs, but appreciation for the chonky bois isn’t nearly as common. They need love too, dammit!
Ahem. Rant over.
As mentioned before, I ain’t seen any of that crap in this story. This author is treating Fat Gum like she would any other character instead of focusing on the fat. I wish with all my heart that more authors were capable of (and willing to) do the same with Fat Gum, and with other plus sized male characters. I can’t even put into words how much it means to me that she’s doing such a fantastic job portraying a character type that so many writers bungle without ever realizing it. I’ve needed this story my entire life and never realized it wasn’t there; I shudder to think of how long I might have been waiting for it if this author never found the inspiration to do so.
If I don’t shut up now, I fear I never will. I love this story that much. Moving on.
Warnings
Explicit sexual content – do NOT read this around your family unless you have a stronger will than I and can do so without creeping them out. (According to my husband, when I read smut I “look like a demented vulture staring down at a half-flattened ‘possum waiting for it to take its last breath,” complete with hunched shoulders and heavy breathing. Flattering, I know.) The smut scenes, while not my usual cuppa tea, wreck. My brain? Broke. Chapter four’s budding romance? It’s goin’ on my headstone ‘cuz I’m dead.
There are mentions of human trafficking and the future may include more about it. Slut-shaming comes up a few times because men are assholes and asshole exes are the ultimate assholes. Situational fat-shaming and lack of body confidence come up as Aiko comes to recognize Fat Gum for who he is instead of what he is; on the other end of the tag, Fat is also doing a lot of it to himself even when it isn’t spelled out. You can see it behind some of his reasoning in his POV chapters and since the writer is kickass at portraying thoughts and feelings without ever breaking out of restricted POV, you can also see hints in other chapters. That said, if the shaming was really bad without any redeeming purpose, I’d have noped my way right out’a that fic and never looked back. It has a purpose, and it’s not that bad. Give it a chance.
Recommendation level
This story lacks purple prose and excessive fluff, and I haven’t seen any signs of the pop culture, literary, and music references I love so dearly, but the rating remains the same:
Ten. Out. of. Farking. TEN!
YES! I’ve finally found another 10/10!!! A quick reminder for anyone who’s managed to not see my other reading recc posts, I don’t even need both hands to count off all the 10/10s I’ve read. Congratulations, Ms. MoofyKitten – your story rocks my world and I have an addiction I do not care to shake!
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