#mother is asleep and brother and I finally able to sneak off to sleep (after chatting and Coping) at 12:15am

[wjehfshs]

Na’vi boys and what they want in a partner

Not gender specific, cringy, fluffy, bit of angst on Ao’nungs part?

Characters: Neteyam, Lo’ak, Ao’nung, Rotxo

Neteyam

Someone who’s soft and open

But also someone who’s responsible like him

He’s sick of constantly chasing his brother around trying to stop any sort of chaos

Although he wants someone who’s safe and responsible, he wants you to be able to have fun

He needs to be able to go out and explore with you, but RESPONSIBLY

His favourite thing is to take you to a small pond where you two can fish

I’d say out of the four boys, he’s around the middle when it comes to dating humans

He’s been around them his whole life so he doesn’t hate them, at least not the ones he’s grown up around, but his mother is very suspicious of them, and that’s somewhat rubbed off on him

But if you are human, he’d be happy to date you, it’d just take some time for him to accept his feelings and finally confess

He’s a very loving partner

If you’re human, his dad tells him how he used to ask people out

So he picks flowers for you, shows up at your door at UNGODLY hours, and does little things for you. Like reaching for something on the high shelf even if you CAN reach it

But if you’re Na’vi, he’ll go with more Na’vi traditional tactics. Like weaving you necklaces, teaching you tactics he was taught, picking fruits for you.

But if you’re human he’s very excited to show you his culture and home as you get more comfortable together

He may even make you a necklace specifically for you

Lo’ak

He wants a partner who understands him

He’d prefer someone who maybe has had similar experiences to him

Of course he doesn’t want anything bad for you, but he’d want someone who has had similar experiences to him so you can have a deeper level of understanding for him

And he’s also able to provide that back

He couldn’t care less if you’re human or Na’vi

Idk if this is just MY neurodivergence’s talking, but he’d subconsciously drift towards someone who’s neurodivergent, because most of the time ND people are bullied and ostracised, so he’d feel a level of connection to them

He’s so whipped too.

Does ANYTHING you ask him too

He’s both finds you so cute and adorable but also so cool and awesome

If you’re human, he’d spend a lot of nights sleeping with you in your bed (even if he has to curl up just to fit)

If you’re Na’vi, he spends a lot of time in your hut with you

Or you two sneak off and fall asleep in a tree together

Will not keep his hands off you

If you’re human, he wants to know as much about your life before you came to Pandora (via your parents) as he can

And he’ll teach you the ways of the forest in return

If you’re Na’vi, he’ll act dumb so you have to teach him things he already knows

Part of me, while I’m writing this, is starting to feel like he’ll naturally like a human more

Humans aren’t really accepted too much on Pandora so you’ll know what it feels like to be different, and he’d feel connected to that

Ao’nung

He wants someone who’s his opposite but like Lo’ak, understands him

He wants someone who can balance him out and keep him in check, but also someone who makes him feel understood and heard

Being the chiefs son AND a disappointment is hard on him, he’s the heir but he’s never good enough and is seen as less than his sister so he’d want someone there to make him feel more than just the chiefs son or a disappointment

Out of the four boys, he’d be the least inclined to date a human

I mean, they destroyed a neighbouring clans home, and almost invaded his own home

But after that battle (let’s pretend Neteyam didn’t die and the skypeople were defeated) scientists started to set up labs and small portable homes at the Metkayina clan for studying and he was very suspicious of them

Even angry that they dared invade his home with these labs (understandable tbh)

But after some time, he calmed down and started to get used to them

He then met you

You where a child of a pair of RDA scientists that moved over to the Na’vis side in the final battle

So he bullied you and would talk about you behind your back

But he also found himself falling for you after he started to see more and more of who you where, he felt himself falling

But his way of “flirting” was teasing and making fun of you, not so much bullying anymore, but making fun of how short you where compared to him, and your “weird human features” when really he’s thinking “please kiss me”

Enemies to lovers kinda thing

Similar relationship with a human S/O than Lo’ak with a human S/O

If you’re Na’vi, it depends on where you’ve come from

If you’re from the Sully family and have 4 fingers, he’ll bully you but slowly fall for you

Also enemies to lovers stuff

But if you’re Metkayina or 3 fingered, he immediately thinks how attractive you are

He tries to impress you and show off

But if you get pissed at him for being a bully, he’ll try to suck it up to you

He’ll swallow his pride and apologise to you, doing anything he can to regain your affection or at least friendship

Acts like he isn’t absolutely whipped for you by acting all tough but secretly, you make him weak in the knees

Rotxo

He wants someone who’s maybe a little more confident than him

Hes naturally quite shy and it’s because of nerves

So he’d want someone who could be his opposite

I guess like his sun to his moon

He’s also in the middle when it comes to humans, but is a little less inclined than Neteyam

He’s described as the peacekeeper and to accept everyone as they are, but humans also did almost invade his home and burnt down a neighbouring village

So he hates humans yes, but if he were to find a human NOT part of the RDA, maybe someone like you? He wouldn’t hate them immediately

It’d be the same situation if you were human how you met him that it was with Ao’nung, except he’s not an ass this time

Maybe a little wary and keeps his distance at first, but doesn’t bully you like Ao’nung would

Once he gets to know WHO you are and not WHAT you are, he’ll become friends with you

He’d listen to you talk about your life back on earth before you moved to Pandora. Humans confuse him, like a lot. Why does your body need to look a certain way? Why do you have to look a certain way? Why do you have to sit for hours at a time stuffed into one room listening to someone talk about a boring topic?

He gets super shy around you, worrying about you and getting all flustered when you so much as look at him

It doesn’t matter if you’re human or Na’vi, he’ll try to court you. Giving you various hand made gifts or hand picked flowers he found at on the sea bed

He’s always worrying for your safety, especially if you’re human

To him, you’re so… breakable? Like one tiny slip could snap you in half.

Always goes with you wherever you explore, and helps you get around places

If you’re Na’vi, he’ll tone it back a bit, won’t be as worried but he’ll keep an eye on you

If you’re Metkayina, he’s prob been crushing on you since childhood

If you’re Omatikaya, it started off with him being interested in you in a friend way. Then it just kinda spiralled from there

[leogichidaa]

Psychoanalysis Sunday: Christmas Interlude

Non-magical AU where Regulus is put in therapy with a psychoanalyst

Part 1 | Previous | Next

Regulus lays sprawled across the floor of his room, his head resting against the soft bearskin rug. He watches the twinkling star shaped string lights dance about on the ceiling above him and lets out a heavy sigh. It is midnight on Christmas and even though he knows that little boys who stay up late do not receive gifts in the morning, he can not get himself to fall asleep.

Of course, he is far too old to believe that Santa Claus will not come if he is awake. He was disillusioned of such foolish notions when he was four years old and his father sat him down to have a stern talk about what was real and what was make believe. Sirius had tried valiantly to convince Regulus that Santa was real for years afterwards, but Regulus had wisely put his trust in his parents.

Santa or no Santa, though, if he did anything to disturb his mother while she slumbered on the night before Christmas, he would be forced to watch as she gave the presents that were meant for him to other family members. He had learned this, too, when he was four years old, the year that he had lost at least half of his presents; Andromeda, Narcissa, and Sirius had returned the other half to him when his mother's attention was elsewhere. Sirius had retained the right to use the ones he'd been given whenever he pleased, but he did that with all of Regulus' things anyway, so it hardly mattered.

Regulus knows, therefore, that he ought to crawl back into bed and shut his eyes and pray that he is able to sleep, but he remains on the floor contemplating a scandalous act.

It had been tradition for as long as Regulus could remember for Regulus to sleep in Sirius' bed with him on Christmas Eve. Sirius had been less enthusiastic about it of late, but he had allowed Regulus to snuggle up with him once a year and Regulus had graciously endured Sirius' snoring without complaint as an extra Christmas gift. This year, however, his parents had declared that they were both too old for such things and Regulus had been directed to stay in his own bed.

It had not seemed such a bad idea to him at first, but Regulus finds it impossible to feel at ease in his own bed now. He sneaks occasional glances at his door, then immediately shifts his gaze back up to the ceiling, as if afraid that merely looking in the direction of the landing will earn him his mother's ire.

After about twenty minutes of this, Regulus sighs again, before slowly and silently getting to his feet. He grabs his stuffed rhino, pulls on his fuzzy slippers, and tiptoes up to his door. He holds his breath as he pulls it open with tremendous care, his eyes squeezed shut.

The door is mercifully quiet and he sneaks into the hallway before shutting it behind him again just as cautiously. He tiptoes across the hall to his brother's room, pausing in front of the door and glancing up and down the hall. Finally, he opens the door and slips inside.

"Don't you knock?"

Regulus startles as his brother's voice rings out in the darkness. "I did not think you were awake," he hisses.

"So you just snuck into my room while I was unconscious and that's alright, is it?"

Regulus frowns. "Well, I shall leave if you prefer."

Sirius sits up in bed and reaches over to turn on the lamp on his bedside table. He and Regulus both squint as the room brightens.

"Couldn't sleep without me, eh?" Sirius asks, grinning.

Regulus folds his arms across his chest and sticks his lower lip out in a pout. "I sleep perfectly well without you snoring in my ear like a diseased cow," he replies. "I simply thought that you would be too agitated to sleep tonight without me to remind you to behave."

Sirius rolls his eyes and throws back the covers on his bed. "Well, come on then, twerp. Might as well get in."

Regulus smiles and clambers into bed beside his brother.

Sirius shuts the light back off and settles in beside Regulus. "If mum gives away both our presents tomorrow, I am disowning you," he mutters.

Regulus kicks him under the covers. "She would never give away your presents. You would make an awful scene and it would be an embarrassment to everyone."

"And I would get my gifts back," Sirius agrees. "So it would be entirely worth it."

Regulus shakes his head, but says nothing.

"Speaking of gifts," Sirius says. "What are you hoping for tomorrow?"

Regulus twists around so he is facing Sirius. "It is bad luck to get one's hopes up," he whispers. He pauses, then says, "It is enough of a miracle that you are actually home and not off with the Potters again."

"You're saying that my presence is your favorite Christmas gift, eh?"

Regulus sighs. "I suppose it is something."

Sirius grins and tousles Regulus' hair. "Merry Christmas, Reg."

"Merry Christmas, Sirius."

[rozzywell]

Oh it sure was/is one of those days, huh?

[the-passenger-if]

A prompt for the angst but!! How would the ros deal/treat/react to a newman that had frequent panic attacks? (If your comfortable answering, and no ones asked before) I imagine since the whole reason we're on earth is because we're trying to hide from this eldritch diety who wants to inhale us whole, and to top it all off newman doesnt even have enough energy to leave. That would cause any being an extreme of stress and anxiety. Especially after Tzr'nekre actually finally locates us

combining it with

if its not too spoilery, how would the ROs react to the MC waking up from a nightmare (say, one in which the RO got possessed by tzr'nekre?) and MC just clings to them, crying, after waking up, and refusing to explain but its obvious they had a terrible nightmare?

This isn’t what Fiama imagined when she was awaken by Newman’s warm face pressing against her breasts, ragged breathing and all. She wants to grab a hold of their head, hold them there, but as her hand brushes their cheek, she finds it damp. Maybe with sweat, maybe with tears.

“Baby?” she asks in a hushed whisper. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

The only reply she gets is a stuttering intake of breath. And then her partner’s arms are sneaking around her—one under her neck, the other around her waist—and Newman is squeezing her tight.

Fiama is strong, she has always been. Her mother once told her—not in kind terms—that she truly took after her father’s sisters; their arms, made to keep children from ripping one another’s eyes out, their legs to carry drunken husbands back home. Now, trapped in Newman’s strong embrace, she feels like the type of dainty, unobtrusive creature her mom wished she had grown into.

She takes a deep breath—as deep as she's able to within her lover’s tight grip—and tries again. “Babe… you’re… crushing me.”

The hold eases up an instant later, but Newman doesn’t let go. They bury their wet face in Fiama’s neck, still silent. It’s alarming to say the least, but she keeps her voice calm. “Are you hurting?” Newman shakes their head. “Are you sad?” She hugs them, feels them shaking in her arms—Newman doesn’t shake like this. “Are you scared?” She didn’t want to sound so flabbergasted (so ‘judgy’ her mother would say) but she can’t help it.

Once again, Newman doesn’t answer, but they do bury their face deeper into Fiama. It takes her by surprise; they have always seemed so unaffected by everything…

She hugs them tight and says the only thing she can think of, “I’m here, babe. And I’ll always be. I don’t know what or who is making you feel like this, but you aren’t alone. I’m with you.” She kisses the top of their head, murmuring every promise she knows she can keep.

A few minutes later, Newman is fast asleep again.

---

Sleeping next to another person in a bed that wasn’t made to be shared by two adults is uncomfortable, but it was late and Newman hadn’t brought their bike, ignoring that Joaquin’s car was at the shop, and Lucia had taken hers that night.

It’s ok, Jonny thinks to himself while he stares at the ceiling, we’ll just wait until my folks leave for work tomorrow. It doesn’t have to get awkward for anyone.

When was the last time he’d shared a bed? Probably when he was around twelve and Quino got scared by a storm and woke him up in the middle of the night, cold hands slipping under the sheets and touching the back of his neck. Dumbass always did the same thing, no matter how many times Jonny punched him to dissuade him. Of course Jonny could never stay mad at his twin for long, and they would share the bed in the end—Jonny grousing about Quino’s cold hands and Quino whining about Jonny hogging the covers.

As if invoking his brother, he feels hands around his neck now; cold, sweaty hands. Even though they don't belong to Quino, the way they’re clinging to him is pretty reminiscent of the way his twin used to squeeze him whenever lightning stroke too close.

“Are you ok?” he asks stupidly. Of course they aren’t; Newman is scared. “What is it?” he tries again, but Newman says nothing, they only keep tightening their grasp around Jonny. He takes their hands and tries to free himself. “Newman, you’re going to choke me.”

Slowly, those cold fingers loosen, giving him a chance to sit up.

“Don’t go!”

“Hush,” Jonny hisses. “Damn it, Newman. Remember we aren’t alone.” He takes the hand that is now gripping the front of his shirt and tries to hold it, but Newman doesn’t budge. “Please,” he whispers.

“Don’t go,” it’s the barely audible plea he gets as a reply.

“I won’t,” he assures them. After another second, Newman lets go, and Jonny takes the hand and gently rubs it between his. “Come here,” he whispers, and Newman doesn’t need to be told twice. They get between his legs and rest on their side and against Jonny’s chest. Jonny takes the covers and pulls them over both of them, and there, with an arm around Newman’s shoulder, he can feel their muscles begin to slowly relax.

---

Roach didn’t usually do this; lying down in bed while their conquests sleep. They had realized that there was so much one could do to pass the time, and watching people drooling was amusing just the first dozen times.

They turn another page of the magazine they stole from that gas station three towns over, the one with the old, balding clerk that had given Roach the evil eye from the moment they dared to set a foot in his territory.

The light is off but that’s ok because Roach doesn’t need it to read, the same way they don’t need it to sneak glances at Newman’s sleeping form. It’s something they do, they tell themself, to pass the time, and not because Newman’s face is nice to look at or anything like that. They aren’t expecting to find their companion awake the next time they look their way, least of all with a terrified look set on their face.

Roach opens their mouth to ask what’s going on, but the words die out as they are wrapped in a tight embrace. The fact that they were so distracted by Newman’s expression that their reflexes vanished for a hot minute, says something. Something Roach doesn’t want to acknowledge right now, so they don’t. Instead, they let their body go limp in Newman’s arms, let them squeeze and squash until they seem to come out of their trance.

“R-Roach?”

“Yes?” they ask in return.

“Are you… ok?”

Roach wriggles to put some distance between Newman and them—as much as their companion’s steel grip allows, anyway—and runs a hand over Newman’s face, wiping off the sweat. “Just a couple broken ribs,” they say, “I’ll live. What about you? What had you panicking like this?”

Newman retracts from those words like a shy snail. It really takes Roach by surprise. They can’t think of many things that might scare Newman, which at least makes the list of suspects quite short.

“Hey,” they whisper in a way that they hope sounds both unaffected and reassuring, “I would know, remember? There’s only you and me here, no third roommate. You can relax.”

Their words, true as they are, do very little to calm Newman down, so Roach sighs and nuzzles against their jaw. “Squeeze away then,” they mutter and kiss Newman’s skin. “I’ll be the prettiest stress ball you’ll ever have.”

---

It isn’t a gentle awakening. Horizon’s muddled thoughts crash into one another as the Domini unsuccessfully tries to slip away from the tight embrace they are being subjected to. What’s going on? their mind asks, half asleep, half panicking.

Memories from last night come back to them as if slogging through a swamp; they remember having dinner with Newman, chatting and somehow ending up in bed together. They remember the tenderness of the moment, the way they felt like they could melt as Newman and they cuddled together...

Horizon strains their neck trying to look over their shoulder, but even with the rays of moonlight seeping through the window, the only thing they have an eyeful of it’s their own dark curls. Newman’s chest is pressed against Horizon’s back and now that the Domini is fully awake, they can feel the other’s racing heartbeat. It scares Horizon, it makes them want to ask what’s going on, what happened to Newman, what, what, what…

They fight those urges. They take a deep breath, find one of Newman’s hands and softly cover it with theirs. “You are in my cabin,” they whisper, “you are in ranch 48, in Luna Ridge. We had diner and I asked you to spend the night. Remember that?”

There’s a long pause, then Horizon feels them nodding against their back. A couple seconds later the iron grip eases up. It gives the Domini a chance to turn around, and very gently press their forehead against Newman’s damp one. “Deep breaths,” they whisper and then are doing just that, hoping Newman will follow their example. An instant later, they are.

Feeling Newman’s muscles relax as they get their breathing under control brings a smile to the Domini’s face.

[honeyhenry]

Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” -  as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door. 

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time. 

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically.  “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine -  that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays. 

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry. 

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier. 

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“ 

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one. 

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”. 

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.” 

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

------------------------------------------------------

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

[theoreticslut]

“You don’t share real well”

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

requested: no

word count: 2k

warnings: none, fluff maybe

A/N: this is totally just a fluff idea I had based on how I’ve rarely ever shared a bed with anyone and how totally inept I am at leaving the blankets alone. If I don’t rip them off the bed to form myself into a burrito, then they’re kicked off the end of the bed. I hope some people relate to this or at the very least find it funny and enjoyable. Leave me comments and let me know what you think! Xx

Taglist: send me a message/comment if you’d like to be added to a general taglist!!

It had been a long few months since you’ve last seen your two best friends. When Fred and George decided to drop out of school, it became nearly impossible to see them since you couldn’t easily leave the castle. You sent letters back and forth nearly every day, and you had managed to sneak out once or twice, but it wasn’t the same as what you were used to with them.

In one of their last letters they sent you they said that they’d meet you at the burrow before their brother’s wedding.

That was still about two weeks ago though and you were more than excited to see them. You missed the two idiots more than anything, except you couldn’t say anything about them visiting to anyone else as they wanted it to be a surprise.

You had been staying at the burrow pretty much since school let out as your parents weren’t really around. Molly didn’t mind because in all honestly she saw you as a second daughter. She knew how close you and the twins were, as well as how the younger two Weasleys looked up to you as an older sibling

“Y/n, dear. Why don’t you go up to bed? You look exhausted.” Molly suggests after you’ve zoned out for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

You had been helping prepare for the wedding; making sure the house was tidied up from top to bottom, make sure the yard was in top condition, helping prep all the food and bake the desserts. Truthfully you have been busy for the last week.

“Are you sure, Molly? I’d like to help finish up.” You yawn even though it’s only about 9:30 at night.

“I’m sure, dear. Go on to bed, now. Tomorrow will be a bit of relaxation before the big day.”

You nod, smiling sleepily at the woman you’ve come to see as a mum. You were more than grateful for her, but felt guilty for not being able to keep up.

She reassured you again that you were fine to go to bed and nearly had to push you towards the stairs herself.

“Goodnight. Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for all the help. Now get.” She smiles, shooing you away.

Tiredly, you make your way up the stairs to the twins’ room. It had been sitting empty for months as they had pretty much immediately moved into the apartment above their shop.

Since it had been left empty, Molly was more than happy to let you take it over when you were there. You hadn’t changed much except for pushing the beds together to make one big bed.

You liked both of the twins as more than friends, so it felt wrong to you to choose just one of their beds. Even though it wouldn’t have made a difference to anyone, you just couldn’t bring yourself to choose.

Sighing as you close the door, you make your way to your bags that you hadn’t bothered to unpack even though you’ve been here over a month and a half already. You dig through until you find a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized shirt you were positive you had stolen from one of the twins at some point.

Having changed and brushed through your hair, you throw yourself onto the bed and snuggle into the mass of blankets that were a mix from both the beds. Not even five minutes after laying down you found yourself falling into a deep sleep.

~.~

“Fred, shhh. You’re gonna blow our cover.”

“Oh it’s not like anyone is awake. Everyone around here sleeps like a log.”

You groan softly as the two wake you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, those two boys wouldn’t know quiet if it hit them in the face.

“Would you both shut up. I was sleeping peacefully.” You grumble, not bothering to look at them instead keeping your eyelids shut to hopefully not lose any of the sleepiness.

“Merlin’s beard, y/n. What are you doing in our room?” Fred asks, not even noticing the beds yet as you startled him.

“It’s become my room while I’m here thank you.”

“Uh huh. Is that why the beds have been pushed together, love?” George asks, setting his stuff down and going to take off his jacket.

“Mmhmm.” You hum, still trying to get back to sleep.

“Where are we supposed to sleep then?” Fred asks, and you just know he has a pout playing on his lips. 

“Take a side and shut up. Please. I’m tired.” You mumble, attempting to bury your head in the pillows.

The twins chuckle at you, shaking their heads as they both find some pajamas to change into. Once changed they climb into the bed either side of you, curling around you, covering themselves with the blankets.

“Good night, love.” George whispers, kissing your shoulder as you’re currently facing Freddie.

“G‘night, Georgie. G’night, Freddie.”

“Good night, princess. He smiles, placing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Soon enough your back to sleep with the twins following soon after.

~.~

George groans as he wakes up. What for he’s not sure. Not until he realizes that he has no blanket.

He looks over at you, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes to see you seemingly buried in blankets as you apparently stole them from both him and Freddie.

Chuckling he works on yanking them out from under you. Usually whenever you all had fallen asleep together, whether on purpose or not, you each had your own blanket. He honestly can’t recall a time when any of you had shared a blanket.

Finally he gets enough blanket to cover up with again, this time trying to curl up closer to you and tucking the edge of the blanket underneath him to keep it on him. He wonders if he should try covering his twin back up, but decides he really doesn’t care too much about it at this moment. Instead, he’d much rather go back to sleep.

Not even twenty minutes later, Freddie wakes up freezing. He sighs when he sees you’ve taken them, shaking his head but smiling at you nonetheless. You’re too damn cute when your sleeping for him to be mad at.

Same as his brother, Fred starts pulling at the blankets to get some to cover up with. He, too, moves in a bit closer but doesn’t think to tuck the other side underneath him.

~.~

You sigh, waking up from a dream that you already fail to remember. You huff as you feel like you’re in satan’s sauna. Between the blankets, the twins’ body heat, and being squished in the middle you feel like you’re burning alive.

Carefully you try to wiggle yourself out of Fred and George’s hold to pull the blanket down just enough to get some fresh air.

Soon enough you’re falling back asleep at just the right body temperature.

~.~

You groan as you roll over, not yet opening your eyes. You can tell it’s daylight, but not quite time to get up. Maybe another hour or two.

“Merlin, y/n.” You hear George huff. You frown, why is he huffing at you this early in the morning?

“What? Why are you huffing at me?” You mumble, just barely able to open your eyes to look at him.

“You don’t share real well, you know that?” He asks, looking down at you as he reaches for something at the bottom of the bed.

“What do you mean, Georgie?” You still mumble. You really aren’t ready to be up yet.

“You’ve kicked the blankets all the way to the end of the bed. And that’s not even half of what you’ve done throughout the night.” He chuckles, finally grabbing hold of the blanket and pulling it up over the two of you.

You groan, not wanting to be under the blanket. You’re comfortable. You try to push the blanket off you but George just wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

“Georgie, it’s too hot.” You huff, pouting at him.

“Just go back to sleep for awhile. It’s still too early.” He sighs, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“You’re such a pain.” You huff, giving into the younger of the twins.

“Go to sleep, princess. And please stop taking the blankets from us.” You hear Freddie mumble, his face smooshed into the pillows and facing away from you.

You huff, pouting a bit at how rude the twins are being this morning. True you had been the same last night when they snuck in, but they were being loud, you aren’t.

“Quit your pouting, love.” George states, kissing your shoulder and nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving soft kisses along your skin.

“You’re the one who’s had us up all night trying to figure out where the blankets are. If you hadn’t taken them all for yourself, you had kicked ‘em away so no one had them.” Fred grumbles, turning to face you and George.

“Or you had pushed us to the very edge of the bed.” George adds, chuckling slightly as his head in still buried in your neck.

“Oh....I’m sorry, guys.”

“It’s alright, princess. Just let us have a few more hours of sleep, please.” Fred smiles, kissing your nose.

“We’ll be ready to be up, then.” George finishes the thought, kissing your neck.

You nod and smile giving both boys a kiss on their forehead or cheek before cuddling up with them and drifting back to sleep for a bit.

✨ BONUS ✨

“Y/n, dear. I have a question-“ Molly starts to say as she opens the door, waking you and the boys.

“Fred, George! What are you doing here?”

“Mmm, Good morning, Molly.” You hum, a bit groggy from waking up. “Oh! W-we haven’t done anything...” you say, suddenly realizing that you’re wrapped up in both the twins’ arms. You can only imagine what she must be thinking.

“Oh, I know, dear. I’m not worried about that one bit. Honestly, I’m more surprised you haven’t. The way you all are with each other.”

“Mum!” The two boys groan, earning a chuckle from their mother as they blush a bit.

“I’m just saying. Anyways, y/n. I had a question; which do you think would look better with the flowers we already have?” Molly asks, holding up two different filler flowers.

“How about we use some of both? They’re both really pretty and would look great together with the flowers.” You yawn, still trying to wake up fully.

“That they would. Good idea, hon.” She smiles, going to walk out the room.

“I’ll be down soon to help with breakfast.” You call out to her.

“Don’t you worry about it one bit dear. You take your time!” She calls back, already heading down the stairs.

“She loves you.” Fred says, leaning over to you.

“And you’re just realizing this now?” You chuckle, sitting up a bit. “I’m a more tame version of you two, of course she loves me.”

“A bit full of ourselves, aren’t we?” George chuckles as you do a small hair flip.

“You know it’s true.” You smirk, winking at him as he and Freddie break out laughing.

“That’s why we love you.” They say simultaneously, looking at you lovingly.

You smile, blowing each a kiss.

“Now let’s get up boys,” you say, lightly slapping their legs. “I’ve been helping make breakfast the entire time I’ve been here, you can come help me this one time.”

“We can head down in a few minutes. We didn’t get as warm a welcome as we were hoping for last night.” Fred smiles as he pulls you back down by the waist, leaning over you and kissing your nose.

“You were being too loud.” You giggle as he continues placing kisses around your face, George placing light kisses around your neck.

“And?”

“And I was trying to sleep!” You point out.

You giggle as George’s hand trails up your side, tickling your skin as he does.

“Just love us for a bit, darling. We’ve missed you.” George smiles, placing a kiss on your lips.

“You two are unbelievable.” You sigh in exasperation, but giving into both of them. None of you have ever made things official, but it was pretty clear that you were theirs and they were yours. 

“Isn’t that why you love us?” Fred asks, taking his turn kissing your neck and sucking at the spot just behind and below your ear. You gasp at the pleasure of it as he smirks.

“One of the reasons.” You smile, pulling both of them into a hug. You were more than elated to have them here with you again. You’d never say it aloud but you missed the two dorks so much.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Your headcannons for a corrupting with the Kuroo one. I was wondering if you would ever do a one shot, Drabble, or another headcannon of what Kuroo does to force his sister into submission? 👉👈

Ah yes, more onee-san corruption. I will probably not be doing a pt. 3 like Bokuto’s (sorry Kuroo stans)

Warnings: incest, gagging (via tie), handcuffs, blackmail, dubcon/noncon, alcohol, smoking, manipulation, abuse

Kuroo Corrupting Onee-san

With the new living arrangements with your brother, Tetsurō, you had life much easier. With the kids having a good role model in their life, you’re free to relax. The best way to relax, in your opinion, is to drink a glass of wine while relaxing in a steaming hot bath. You’ll admit, at first it was rare. A bath to relax in once a week, a glass of wine accompanying you. The bottle hidden under the bed in the guest room, away from Tetsurō’s eyes. He didn’t like drinking, nor did he like it when you drank.

Then it changed. A glass of wine per week turned into three glasses per week, the it became a glass per day. You didn’t bother hiding it from Tetsurō. He wasn’t your boss, your father, or even your older brother. You controlled your life, not him. Even if he was kind enough to let you stay at his luxurious house, there was no reason for him to make you feel like you needed to hide stuff. You had some extra money, after all, since Tetsurō dealt with the bills and funeral costs.

Tetsurō, on the other hand, believed you to be acting out because you’re too free. With your life of being controlled for so long, it’s no wonder why you’re suddenly drinking freely and sneaking a smoke at night on the porch or balcony. After Tetsurō goes into his room, 30 minutes later you exit your given room and slink outside to light a cigarette. It disgusts him how much you’ve changed from the sister he remembers. The one he loves, the one he wishes never left. His decision to prevent you from going down the same path as everyone else in the family was to set in restrictions.

“No more alcohol? Smoking? Tetsurō, I’m not a child,” you argue. With the blanket of darkness upon the house, both of your daughters had already been tucked in and were sound asleep.

“You may not be a child, but you need to be responsible. I won’t be able to help you if you act like this,”

“Tetsu, this isn’t what I signed up for. I needed help getting back on my feet. If you’re gonna to act like my ex, I’ll leave,”

“Your- You think I’m like that piece of shit?” The anger in his voice freezes you to the spot, glare directed right at you. “I’m trying to help. You’re damaging your relationships and yourself,”

“Tetsu, you’re controlling me. If you’re gonna act like this, I’m gonna leave. You and Kouki are one and the same. I don’t need my children to deal with another pathetic excuse for a-”

Your sentence was cut by a sharp slap, the noise echoing loud in your ears as blood rushes to your face, hot where he touched. The stinging residue of his slap brought tears to your eyes, betrayal evident in glossy orbs.

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not the bad guy,” his voice is low, cracking as he tries not to let his face crack. You grit your teeth, anger boiling through your blood.

“How dare you fucking-!” You’re once more shut down, Tetsurō‘s hand on your mouth as you struggle. He’s much stronger than you, not to mention larger and more broad. He’s able to easily maneuver you down on your knees, vulnerable as he drags you over to his desk. Your struggling helps to loosen his grip a bit, but his hand stays on your mouth. Once he shuts a drawer, your mouth is free as he secures you to the drawer. “Tetsu, enough! Stop!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” His voice gets louder as he loosens his tie and wraps it around your mouth. The fabric is quickly soaked with your saliva and your screams are muffled. “Fucking finally. This isn’t what I wanted, you must understand that. This is the best for you, making sure you’re not setting a bad example for your daughters!”

A muffled response is all he gets as an answer, your noises of struggling and squirming making his guilt worsen. As he starts to regret his decision, panic settling in as he realizes that he is, indeed, acting like your abusive ex. He knows he’s doing it for the best results, he’s doing it for your own good, but the gnawing feeling of knowing he’s no better is still there. The intention is different, the actions are the same. As you struggle, he comes to that realization.

But there’s another voice.

You’re helpless before him, the sister he’s been in love with since before she left him. As your skin shows more and more underneath the blouse, he notices the darkened marks. The only signs of an affair. The evidence makes his blood boil again, knowing you’re out whoring yourself instead of being a good mother. You’re just as bad as you were when you were 17, sleeping with random guys just because of the thrill. If he had known...

“This is poor behavior and you need to be properly reminded you have other responsibilities. If you wanna be a slut so badly, then so be it. You wanna do harmful things, then so be it,” his voice is shaking, but his hands are not. Popping open the buttons on your blouse, you struggle once more. With the handcuffs around your wrists, keeping you chained to the locked desk, you’re completely helpless as he undos the shirt. Once he gets it off and down your arms, he realizes the position you’re in. It’s a bit hard to have access to your body when you’re chained standing up to a drawer.

The handcuffs are released and forgotten, falling to the floor as he keeps your hands behind your back. “You make so much as a peep, I’ll make you regret it. Starting with your precious brats,” he sneers, halting your movements. You don’t struggle, letting him lead you from his office to his bedroom. It’s not far, but you pass the hallway where your children’s rooms are. It’s tempting, the urge to scream and beg for them to call the police or get help from a neighbor, but you don’t. Tetsurō may be family, but he isn’t a liar. He doesn’t bluff. He’ll do what he needs to do to get what he wants, even if that’s covering up a crime. The hallway fades from view and in place is Tetsurō’s bedroom, the door opening only to shut and lock.

“This isn’t how I expected my teenage fantasies to come true, but there’s no going back,” he pulls you towards the bed, letting you fall and bounce on the mattress. It’s a luxurious king sized bed, Western-styled, similar to the other beds in the house. Red silk sheets paint a romantic scene, your bra-clad chest for his viewing pleasure as he strips down. With each piece of clothing stripped from his body, you’re free to admire how much he’s changed since you last saw him. With the three year difference between you, he was just beginning high school when you left. Now he’s toned and tall, muscles flexing and rippling with each movement until he’s down to his boxers.

When his hands go to stripping you down, you don’t fight back. Your will to fight was stripped from your previous resistance. With the looming threat of your daughters getting hurt, you can’t find it in your body to put up even a bit of resistance. When you’re down to nothing, you shiver as his predatory gaze lingers on the evidence of your recent affair, a man you met over a dating app that happened to be a pathetic excuse of a man and a lousy lay. With a growl in his throat, your legs are pried open to Tetsurō’s heavy gaze, a sickening feeling in your stomach as he licks his lips. The boxers he wears are discarded, the fabric useless as he palms his hard cock. You’re staring, you know you are, but he’s much bigger and thicker than you expected. With beads of precum bubbling at his slit, he moves it to rub against your pussy lips.

“Tetsurō, please, don’t do this,” you shiver, covering your chest as you move your legs. He’s quick, pinning them to your chest as he applies weight. The feeling of being crushed is all you can think about, knowing he’s keeping you restrained in a brutish way. He doesn’t answer you, glare on the way his cock looks between your folds. Once he feels a bit of slick build up, he pumps his cock with your slick, sticky translucent strands covering his shaft and his hand.

It’s sudden, his cock slipping right into your heat. It has a moan slipping out, toes curling as he sinks into you. His own groan had you clenching around him, a sexual sound that you’d never expect from your brother. Hissing, he rocks his hips into yours until each inch disappears into your cunt.

“Tetsu, please,” you beg, hands gently pushing at his shoulders. “You can still back out,”

“If you’re so desperate for a fuck and some dick, then I’ll give it to you. Disciplining is the first step in obedience,” he grunts, keeping your knees to your chest as he thrusts into you. Your head is thrown back, the feeling of him rubbing every sensitive spot inside you has your orgasm building faster than you expected. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, taking back what was taken from me. Thinking you can go off with whoever, not anymore. Not while I’m here. You’re mine, all mine,”

With his confession ringing in your ears, his thumb goes to your clit and has your vision dotting. A muffled scream of his name, your hand covering the noise, comes as you cream on his cock, sticky white fluid on the base of his cock. He doesn’t stop nor hesitate in his thrusts, putting more force behind each pump as tears stream down your cheeks, lungs burning from the position.

“One more. Come on, nee-san, give me one more,” he encourages, fingers swirling around your clit and pinching the sensitive area. Legs tense as they shake, vision going black as your eyes roll with the force of your second orgasm. With a groan, Tetsurō finishes himself inside. His seed swishes inside you, coating your walls and spurting our when he pulls himself free of your hole. He’s not aiming to get you pregnant, oh no. He wants obedience.

Best way to do that is assert his dominance in your life, he thinks, as he positions himself to enter you once more.

[tenthgrove]

500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

[jangmi-latte]

May i request headcanons for all dorm leaders reacting to a drunk s/o. Thank you!

❞ 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲? 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤? 𝐎𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?  ❝

➻ content: four doughnuts!

➻ warnings: slightly nsfw on leona’s part!! mentions of alcohol!

➻ comments: since i haven’t tweaked my rules *wink* just yet, i’ve made coco use the cafe’s wheel to pick four dorm leaders for this request! hope you don’t mind! also, i don’t and haven’t drunk alcohol — ma'am this is a cafe —, therefore i did as much research (also known as making my waiters drunk) as i can when it comes to being drunk. cough also from seeing my relatives and friends go drunk cough.

Ⅰ.

༄ kalim is from a wealthy family so it’s no surprise he’s exposed to alcohol, mostly wine but kalim – being as he is still under age – doesn’t really like drinking.

༄ what he didn’t expect was for someone to sneak alcohol into one of his banquets unnoticed. even jamil didn’t notice due to his hectic schedule.

༄ sam, what have you been selling in your shop–

༄ it was a clear liquid. having nearly the same viscosity as water, you were unaware of how much you were drinking. let’s say you’re unaware of what alcohol tastes like. sure, it tastes weird but oh boy, the heat that spread out through your neck and body was quite addictive. the way it tickles your tongue makes you giggle at times.

༄ this is some odd kind of water huh, just what else does the land of hot sands have?

༄ as it was your first time drinking, it wasn’t a surprise to see you get drunk after three glasses. apparently, it was white wine. is kalim familiar with this kind of alcohol? yes. but he doesn’t know it was being served.

༄  kalim started to notice your sudden change in demeanour when you started to giggle a lot. you would suddenly cling on his arm or nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

༄  kalim's delighted by your affection, oblivious to the fact you're drunk as fuck and will continue to giggle out of nowhere.

༄ if jamil pointed out your sudden change of attitude, kalim would go “oooohhh” and just laugh along with you.

༄ now jamil would question if kalim’s drunk too.

༄ if your laughing would go out of control, ah, our little sunshine would try to stop you and drag you away. you’re light and you’re not struggling so he could easily drag you away from the banquet and into a spare room that’s next to his.

༄ if you woke up with a hangover the next day, kalim is immediately by your side while also asking help from jamil to tend to you. 

༄ you can not get away from his stories and it would make you extremely embarrassed that you suddenly turned into a maniac during one of his parties. did anyone take a video? who knows. 

༄ you now hereby made a mental note not to drink alcohol ever again. just wait till you go to kalim’s hometown where there’s A LOT of alcohol to drink. you can’t avoid it but hey at least you know how you act when you’re drunk.

༄ kalim won’t be talkative about what happened but can you guarantee it won’t slip from his lips every now and then every time a banquet is brought up to a conversation?

Ⅱ.

༄ okay, let’s give more attention to leona’s homeland, yeah?

༄ so there’s a party. it’s not dedicated to anyone, perhaps it’s an event or an occasion for the land. the royal household mostly consists of adults, it’s pretty self-explanatory that there will be alcohol.

༄ leona is used to the taste of alcohol. he isn’t exactly an active drinker but his tolerance is high. it would take him how many glasses before he’s drunk. there are different types of alcohols on the table. ranging from beer to whiskey. heck, there’s even absinthe.

༄ he chose to drink the safest alcohol served and that was a martini. since leona doesn’t want to interact with anyone – his brother is loud and catching most of the attention anyways – he just sat at the sides. he couldn’t really sleep with how loud his home was.

༄ what caught his emerald eyes was you. Oh man, was he surprised. you were easily drinking shots and shots of vodka without any trouble. sure he has seen you drink before but seeing you be this energetic and even rather frisky was….quite a turn on.

༄ though he is quite worried, he would love to see what happens when you get drunk. he thought you would just drop and fall asleep on the table.

༄ hell no.

༄ the moment you spotted him with half-lidded eyes, you sauntered over to him with a shot in had and sat on his lap. was he bothered? not in the slightest but he would glare at some men who would stare at you being all wanton on him.

༄ his first instinct? protect you. sure, you’re tipsy or drunk but that doesn’t mean leona would take this as an advantage and just have sex with you despite your seductive advances. he doesn’t mind you being all sexy on him but you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s his turn to pull the responsible card in the relationship.

༄ your consent is very important to him and drunk isn’t consenting.

༄ another thing, he wants you to just put a show for him ONLY, not in public. he’s possessive but your body is for his eyes only. 

༄, when you pressed your lips against his, leona would kiss you back for a brief second before pulling away once he noticed your sultry touches. you’re whining but this is leona’s chance to carry you to his room. both your drinks left downstairs while he just cuddles you to bed. 

༄ he’ll stop any of your persuasive actions since he could see you’re eyes drooping. he can make love to you some other time. sober you is better. if you won’t stop, ah leona would just passionately kiss you ‘til you eventually passed out.

༄ but that wouldn’t stop any future teasing from him. he’s not gonna lie, it was sexy to see you try and dominate him but again, be sober. 

Ⅲ.

༄ like leona, vil is not an exception to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang. being a  popular influencer/model/artist means being invited to gatherings or after production dinners.

༄ he had a couple drinks here and there but vil doesn’t like getting drunk or even intoxicating himself too much. he knows what a drunk mind can do and he has an image to hold to even let something as getting drunk slip his mind. 

༄ in short, vil hasn’t experienced getting drunk and avoids doing so.

༄ he’s also picky with what alcohol he consumes. he prefers those that have a small alcohol percentage, those that don’t leave a smell, and those that aren’t strong to taste. he’s strict with his beauty regimen.

༄ so, let’s say you were invited to one of vil’s productions and had an after-production dinner. it wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, just a casual one held by the director in a private restaurant.

༄ there was wine and brandy. our dear model picked wine, of course, and you somehow got curious with the taste of brandy. he wouldn’t stop you, he simply warned you to keep the amount stable and not drink too much. he’ll keep an eye on you just in case you might get carried away. better safe than sorry.

༄ vil took only one glass and was drinking it slowly while you looked like you were going to puke. but it was somehow addicting so you took another shot. he was occupied by conversing with other artists/staff that he would simply look at you from the corner of his eye at all times.

༄ up until he noticed you leaning on your hand propped up by your elbow and just staring at the glass did he finally approach you and immediately asked how many shots did you take.

༄ “four....?” you slurred before pulling him to sit next to you and leaning on his shoulder while hugging his arm. 

༄ you were quiet, thank goodness you weren’t really that drunk, but you’re intoxicated alright.

༄ “vil…?” “yes?” “what is rook doing over there?”

༄ okay, now you’re hallucinating. you were pointing at a staff member who nearly had the same haircut as rook. it was his cue to bring you back to pomefiore. Once he was able to excuse himself, he helped you stand up.

༄ sadly, you couldn’t really walk properly without tripping and all that so let’s be thankful that vil does weights. he isn’t keen to the idea of carrying you back and calling a cab to head back since it isn’t really a sight to see.

༄ so, he called rook and made him open the mirror while he carried you bridal-style back to the dorm.

༄ epel is jealous after he found out you were able to have alcohol.

Ⅳ.

༄ we’re going to add our king of hearts to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang.

༄ okay, maybe just the never-drank-alcohol-gang.

༄ riddle has a strict regimen on himself too. he considers alcohol as a junk food so it’s a big no to him. it’s also going to be a taboo for his mother. 

༄ along with kalim, he’s still a minor. alcohol is not that really discussed with anything involved in a conversation with him. academics and schools are top priority, alcohol has no space in his brain nor diet.

༄ he’s not dumb with what alcohol looks like though, so when he saw you drinking beer when he visited ramshackle, he was beyond confused and surprised. his antennas shot up too.

༄  he would scold and question on why you’re drinking something that can harm your liver and you just calmed him down by saying you barely even drink these and that you needed relief from school requirements. you also reassured it was only one bottle and you would drink it slowly. you won’t get drunk.

༄ our king of hearts is confused. since when was alcohol a mood reliever?

༄ he would huff and keep an eye on you despite being all cranky. you would just giggle it off and begin doing your homework again while he tutors you. both of you wouldn’t even notice the increasing bottles of beer that’s popping up beside you as you subconsciously drank more.

༄ don’t ask where the beers are coming from.

༄ when you started to huff and get irritated at riddle did he notice your sudden mood change. 

༄ his eyes grew wide when he saw four bottles of beer beside you. poor boy doesn’t know what to do. should he bring you to bed? feed you something? wait, are you even drunk?

༄ you were getting all cranky, you were ‘tsk’ing and growling at certain things. you would rant and pull on your hair when you would get a mistake. it was so unlike you that riddle doesn’t know if he’s getting mad himself or concerned.

༄ he eventually needed to call trey for help. when the vice dorm leader arrived, trey quickly calmed you down and sent you to bed where you quickly passed out. 

༄ poor riddle received a thorough explanation from trey about what happened and that, as your boyfriend, he should be more aware.

༄ riddle just removed all alcohols of any kind from your existence the end.

[redex-writes]

AWO- childhood friends growing up au fic? Can be ship or platonic

Anon...I’m sorry...I was gonna write something short and sweet, a little drabble...

That was three hours and 3k words ago.

Thank you for this request, I genuinely really liked it! Sorry for making a monster out of it ^^’

(also this is my 100th post and i’m very happy about that)

Allusions to verbal child abuse; Allusions to emotional child abuse

On the first day of second grade, the new kid in class stole Vincent’s lunch. It had been his favourite--an apple juice box, a bag of animal crackers, and a peanut butter sandwich his mom had cut into the shape of a star--all tucked neatly into his Thomas the Tank Engine lunchbox. One minute it had been in his cubby, and the next, he was watching in horror as some kid he didn’t know devoured his food. When the kid caught him looking he just grinned, proud and mean, with peanut butter in his teeth.

On the first day of second grade, Vincent got into his first fight. He told his mom he’d fallen off his bike on the way home, and ignored the suspicious looks his parents gave him when he took third helpings at dinner.

---

On the first day of fourth grade, Vincent grit his teeth when he saw that mop of black hair from across the playground.

Leo caught his eye before he could duck away, and his face split into that stupid grin that Vincent had come to hate.

“How’s it going, Moretti Spaghetti?”

Vincent huffed through his nose, already annoyed. “That’s still a stupid name.”

“I know, right? Can’t believe your ma named you that.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes, but Leo’s smug look didn’t waver.

“Why’re you here?”

He looked at Vincent, furrowing his brow in confusion. “Because...it’s recess?”

“I mean, here.” Vincent gestured to the school. “Emily said that Sean told her that Harvey said you moved.”

Leo shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t smug anymore.

“What’d Harvey say?”

“Uh…” Vincent hesitated, stomach turning uncomfortably when he remembered what he’d been told. Leo just stared at him, waiting.

“He said you...that your foster family kicked you out, and you went back to the...y’know.”

Saying it to Leo’s face was a lot more awkward than hearing it from his best friend. Leo was staring at the ground, tightly clutching his jacket on either arm.

“Well, I didn’t,” he said finally, voice strangely thick. “Harvey’s a liar.”

“I’m sorry,” Vincent started, but Leo was already turning and stalking away.

Guilty and subdued, Vincent couldn’t help but sneak glances at Leo for the rest of the day. When everyone got up to get their lunch boxes from their cubbies Leo stayed seated, staring down at his desk and ignoring the chattering of their classmates. The cubby with his name on it was empty.

On the second day of fourth grade, Vincent grabbed an extra juice box and bag of animal crackers when his mom wasn’t looking. Leo didn’t notice them sitting in his cubby until lunch time, and Vincent watched out of the corner of his eye as he looked around, hesitated, then scooped them up and took them to his desk.

---

Leo got a bicycle on their last day of sixth grade. Vincent was happy for his friend, but at the same time…

“Psst! Vince!”

Vincent blinked the last dregs of sleep from his mind. His room was dark, apart from the sliver of moonlight from the window. The light summer breeze washed over him, carrying the sound of crickets and the scent of honeysuckle and…

When did he open his window?

“Vincent!”

“Gah!” Vincent yelped, startling hard enough that he fell out of bed. He hit the ground with a thunk, elbow smacking painfully into the nightstand.

A snort of laughter from the window made him whip his head around.

Leo was grinning at him, bright-eyed and outlined by the light of the full moon. He was holding Vincent’s window open with one hand, tightly clutching the edge of his window sill with the other. Even in the moonlight, Vincent could tell his knuckles were white with how hard he was holding on.

“Leo, it’s--” he grabbed his alarm clock and turned it towards him, “--two-thirty in the morning!”

“Sure is.” Leo’s cocky look hadn’t faded, but Vincent had known him long enough to be able to hear the slight tremor in his voice. He was already wary about the height of the climb up to Vincent’s window, but it was the middle of the night--it must’ve been important to get him up there.

Vincent sighed, but there was no irritation behind it.

“Let me put on some shoes, at least.”

Leo nodded, continuing to cling to the windowsill as he watched Vincent slip his feet into an old pair of sneakers and pull his housecoat on. After a moment’s consideration, he opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out two granola bars, stuffing them into his pocket before climbing out the window.

The climb from his window onto the roof of the covered deck was easy by this point, but he made sure to keep it slow for Leo. They scooted to sit with their backs to the outer wall, Leo taking the granola bars Vincent held out to him and opening one without saying anything.

“So...that bike’s coming in useful?”

“Hm?” Leo looked over at him, mouth stuffed. Vincent raised an eyebrow.

“Your bike. I can’t see you walking all the way across town in the middle of the night.”

“Oh! Yeah.” Leo gestured in the general direction of Vincent’s yard without looking down, and Vincent peered over the edge of the roof to see Leo’s bike leaning against the side of the house where he’d climbed up the lattice. Leo made a quiet sound of discomfort, and Vincent hurriedly shuffled back to safety for his sake.

“Are you gonna tell me why you biked all the way across town in the middle of the night?”

Leo lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered around a mouthful of granola bar. “Didn’t wanna be…”

Alone, Vincent finished in his head. He leaned back and folded an arm behind his neck, rolling his head to the side to look at Leo.

“What about Linda?”

“Didn’t want to wake her up.” Leo crumpled the granola bar wrapper and handed it to Vincent, opening the other one as Vincent shoved the trash in his pocket. “They got two more girls this week--I think they’re five and six? Anyways, the new kids usually don’t sleep easy, so I didn’t want to go to her room and wake them up.”

Vincent hummed, closing his eyes. He didn’t entirely understand Leo’s living situation--he’d never invited him to his house, and Vincent had never asked--but he knew that it was hard to get privacy. 

They lay in silence for a while, the only sounds the crickets and the crinkling of Leo’s granola bar wrapper. When Vincent opened his eyes again, Leo was laying with his arms behind his head, looking more relaxed than Vincent had seen him at heights like this--not including Vincent’s roof.

“Leo,” he whispered. Leo’s eyes opened slightly, and he hummed sleepily.

“You wanna sleep over?”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek, glancing up at the sky. Vincent knew what he was thinking.

“I’ll wake you up once my dad leaves,” he promised. “Mom won’t come in my room either, so you’ll be fine.”

They shimmied back down into Vincent’s room, and Leo flopped down onto the bed on autopilot as Vincent grabbed the extra blankets from his closet. He tossed them to Leo and lay down next to him, pulling his own blankets back up and turning over to face away from him.

“Night, Leo.”

Leo mumbled a reply, already sounding half-asleep.

---

“Sorry I’m late!”

Vincent rolled his eyes as Leo dropped onto the cafeteria bench beside him, but he slid his extra bag of chips over to him without a word. Leo took it without comment, their unspoken routine a second nature by now.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” Leo admitted, grinning crookedly. Across the table, Emily narrowed her eyes at him.

“Please tell me--”

“--that I didn’t get a behavioural warning on the first day of high school?” Leo stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth, talking with his mouth full and spewing crumbs. “I cannot tell a lie.”

“What in the world did you do this time?” Carol demanded. Leo shrugged, grinning slyly.

“Ask Linda.”

As if on cue, Linda slid onto the bench beside him, crowding him closer to Vincent. Vincent grunted when Leo’s elbow jammed into his side, but the two were already launching into a retelling of the trouble they’d gotten into in the last two hours.

“--so awesome, I’m telling you, the look on her face--”

“--she turned absolutely red, you know when someone’s vein pops out in their forehead?”

“--thought she was going to kick your ass right there in front of everyone--”

Vincent finished his sandwich and stood, excusing himself with a mutter that was lost in the chatter. Carol was the only one who noticed him get up, and he could feel her eyes on his back as he disposed of his trash and left the cafeteria. She didn’t follow him, though, and he didn’t wait for her to.

He spent the first week of high school eating lunch in the band room with Gary, pretending to watch as he practiced. He doubted that his brother bought his excuse of “just wanting some peace and quiet,” but he didn’t press the issue.

---

Vincent attended Gary’s graduation on the weekend after junior year. He sat with their parents, trying not to doze off in the uncomfortable plastic chair while the graduates were called onstage by name. He caught Carol’s eye from across the aisle, and she smiled at him for a moment, only turning away to clap when her cousin’s name was called.

He found her when the ceremony was over, desperate to get away from his teary-eyed mother and her camera, and the expectant looks his father gave him every time someone asked about Gary’s plans for university. She was standing with her own family and looked grateful for an out as well, joining him on a walk down the deserted hallways of the school.

“I bet it’s going to be weird with Gary gone,” she said. Vincent laughed a little.

“You said it. I’m not looking forward to a year alone in the house with my parents.”

She nodded. They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps echoing eerily off the walls. After a few minutes, Carol stopped.

“That’s gonna be us next year,” she said softly. Vincent looked back at her, seeing her looking at him hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said lamely, suddenly at loss for words. Carol glanced away, seeming to be making up her mind about something, before apparently steeling herself and walking towards him. He stood frozen as she closed the distance between them and, with an audible deep breath, gingerly placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips against his.

Distantly, Vincent wondered if this counted as a first kiss. Were first kisses supposed to feel so...weird? Disappointing?

After a few moments of Vincent standing unresponsive, Carol pulled back. Her face was red, and she seemed to be having trouble meeting his eye; when she did, though, she gave him a small smile that looked almost...sad.

“Just thought I’d try at least once,” she whispered. Vincent didn’t answer--couldn’t answer--wondered if he’d be able to recover from the sheer awkwardness of this moment, when--

“There you losers are!”

Carol pulled away quickly, both of them turning to look down the hall. Linda was walking down the hall towards them, Leo following closely behind. They were both dressed formally, though Linda had on sneakers and mismatched socks under her dress, and Leo’s tie was tied too-loose over his shirt and open vest. Vincent guessed they’d been lingering in the back of the hall instead of being in the visible audience while their foster siblings got their diplomas.

“I didn’t know you two were here!” Carol exclaimed. Her voice was slightly too high and strained to sound casual, and Vincent doubted that he looked any more inconspicuous. There was no way they hadn’t seen the scene unfold from down the hall.

Bless Linda’s heart, she didn’t say anything--merely started off on a mostly one-sided conversation about her summer plans. Vincent met Leo’s eyes, and was momentarily taken aback--his expression was entirely unreadable, blank for the first time since Vincent had known him. He couldn’t think of anything to say, and for once, it seemed Leo couldn’t either.

---

It was nearing the last month of the worst year of Vincent’s short life when Leo scaled his house for the last time.

He’d grown used to waking up to loud cursing, but not from outside of his window. So, when his eyes snapped open at the first thump and “god fucking damnit--” he knew immediately who it was.

Sure enough, a second later one of Leo’s gangly arms was hooked inside of Vincent’s window frame--then the other--and then his head popped into view. It had been a while since Leo had climbed up, and the sight was a bit of a surprise, but Vincent was only taken off guard for a moment before he scrambled out of bed to fully open the window, since they were both too tall for one of them to be comfortably framed in the windowsill.

They didn’t talk. Vincent pulled on his socks and shoes and pulled a sweater over his head, looking up in time to see Leo’s legs disappearing as he climbed up to the covered deck.

Out of habit, Vincent slid open his bedside drawer, only to realize that it’d been almost a year since he’d stored anything in it. There was an unopened box of raisins--for some godforsaken reason--that he brought close to his face to check the date on, before sticking it in his sweater pocket and clambering up to the roof.

Leo was playing with a swiss army knife he’d gotten for Christmas, but he put it away when he saw Vincent watching the sharp blade warily. Vincent awkwardly shuffled to sit beside him, not used to the angle of the climb anymore, and pulled out the box of raisins. He held it out to Leo, who stared at it for a second before breaking out into a wide grin. He laughed as he took the box, but aside from that, ripped it open without comment. The familiarity was welcome in the midst of everything his life had become over the past months, and it made his chest tighten with some emotion he couldn’t put a name to.

“It’s been a while,” Leo spoke up, startling Vincent out of his thoughts. He was staring up at the stars, legs splayed and stretched out leisurely, as if he’d been there for ages. His natural ability to fit in made Vincent smile.

“It has.”

Leo sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for that.”

Vincent furrowed his brow. “What? It’s not your fault.”

“It is, though.” He looked over, and Vincent was taken aback by the guilt in his eyes. “It’s completely my fault.”

Vincent shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s not like I went out of my way to fix anything, either.”

“There shouldn’t even be anything to fix!” Leo huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “We’ve been best friends for years, and suddenly I just--I go and fuck everything up!”

He was getting to the point he got to sometimes--where his frustration came out without a filter, and would keep going until he’d gotten it all off his chest. So, as much as Vincent wanted to protest, he simply leaned back and listened.

“I mean, I didn’t even tell you why. I just kept it all to myself, didn’t do shit about it--probably ruined the best fucking friendship I’ve ever had--and left you completely in the fucking dark about everything, let you feel like shit over it--and I know you did, Emily told me--she had to threaten to beat my ass for me to actually get over myself--but by then it’s too late, and I waited until the day I leave forever to tell you that I’m in love wi--”

He cut himself off abruptly, the unfinished words floating off and disappearing into the night. As Vincent watched, wide-eyed and breathless, he opened his eyes and slowly turned his head, looking more unsure of himself than Vincent had ever seen.

“I...didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

Vincent pushed himself to sit up, feeling suddenly dizzy. He rubbed his eyes hard, wondering for a moment if he was still asleep.

“You...you’re…”

Sorry? In love with me?

Leaving?

“Where are you going?” His voice came out small, unsure. He heard Leo sigh and sit up beside him.

“California. I’m gonna get my GED, get out of this town. As much as I appreciate my foster parents...I don’t know. This isn’t the place for me, Vince; hasn’t been for a while. Maybe ever.”

Vincent let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself.

“And you’re leaving today?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re…”

“In love with you.” Leo’s voice was rough, would probably sound harsh to anyone’s ears but Vincent’s. “I’m in love with you, Vince. And I know it’s fucking stupid--you’re straight, I know that, you’re my best friend, you’ve done so much for me and you deserve so much more than--”

Leo’s words were cut off by Vincent’s lips when he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in. It wasn’t awkward, didn’t feel wrong or disappointing--it felt right, felt like everything.

It felt like home.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” Vincent mumbled against Leo’s lips when they parted, and Leo’s laugh rang in his ears, as giddy as Vincent felt.

“Absolute morons.”

The giddiness faded all too soon when Vincent remembered what else Leo had said.

“You’re leaving.”

The mood dropped immediately. Leo pulled away, the miserable look back on his face.

“I--”

“Take me with you.”

The words were out of Vincent’s mouth before he realized he was even thinking them. Leo stared at him, mouth agape.

“What?”

“I mean--” Vincent squeezed his eyes shut and hurried to backtrack, “I’m sorry, that was--I shouldn’t have--”

“Do you mean it?”

Leo’s voice was hesitant, but he sounded...hopeful. Vincent opened his eyes again, scared of what he’d see in Leo’s.

Leo’s eyes glittered in the dim light. He was looking at Vincent like he held the fucking stars, and a small flicker of something big started in Vincent’s chest.

“Yeah.” He glanced down to where his hands were pressed to the shingles. “Leo, I hate it here. Ever since Gary graduated my dad’s been getting worse--I can’t focus on school with all the yelling. I could get my GED too, we could both find jobs in the city--I have money saved up from my part times, it’s enough to get us there at least--”

Leo was laughing, hands coming up to cup Vincent’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

“You moron--you beautiful, hopeless, genius moron--”

“That’s not--” Vincent started, laughing into the kiss that Leo cut him off with, “it’s not--Leo--”

“Let’s go, then, let’s get out of here.” Leo grinned at him, warm and bright and everything to Vincent. 

It took him less than ten minutes to pack. He threw his bag down to Leo, who stored it in the trunk of his beaten-up car as Vincent scrambled down the lattice. He let Leo catch him up in his arms for a moment, lets him kiss him once, twice, before pulling away and getting into the car.

It was the first day of the rest of Vincent’s life when he sped away from everything he’d known, with the one person he’d ever wanted to learn it all over again with.

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Little Robin and Momma Bird

 In honor of First Day of Spring 2021 which for comic fans is the birth date of Richard John-Grayson Wayne, Member of the Flying Graysons, Bruce Wayne’s Adopted Son, Barbara Gordon’s classmate, Wally West and Roy Harper’s best friend, Princess Koriand’r’s true love, the first Robin, The Boy Wonder, Leader and founding member of the Teen Titans, Nightwing, Protector of the City of Bludhaven, Renegade, Ex Apprentice of Slade Wilson, Agent 37, Big Brother to Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne, in varying times and places Father of Mar’i ‘Nightstar’ and Jacob ‘Jake’ Grayson and above all else and beyond all those titles, son of John Grayson and Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson; here’s what I hope is something short and sweet. 

 Now with long intro out of the way, the following is dedicated to @mothnem @lightdusk96 @hood-ex @thattimdrakeguy @tarisilmarwen @fireflyxrebel-writes @nightglider124 @nyxqueen97 @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @arabian-batboy @meara-eldestofthemall @robxstar @bluerene and so many others for being my friends in light of this occasion. Please like, comment and especially reblog for any corrections and constructive criticisms. It’ll be very appreciated. 

  Please Enjoy....  

 The sun gleaming and bright rays shone through the small trailer window, lighting the small bedroom with many bright colors of its own decorated throughout. The beige carpet, still an ever bit of simple yet practical use of being the floor, was littered with small shapes of varying sizes, almost all being made of plastic. In particular, these spread out toys were action figures, representing the recent phenomena of spandex clad and awe inspiring individuals that are the ‘Superman’ from Metropolis and the rest being merely the few robotic and unnatural opponents he faces in protecting the oppressed and those in need. The resident of this small bedroom was for all accounts a fan of Superman, something not too unprecedented given the caped champion’s crusades in correcting the wrongs and dangers Metropolis and the larger world face the best he can ever since his first day to the public. 

   And given these are action figures of Superman, it shall be of no surprise said resident was indeed very young; a small acrobat of the famous Haly’s Circus currently asleep and softly snoring away in this room’s bed, blankets draped and covering almost every part of him, even his face. It’s his 7th birthday as of today, this wonderful first day of Spring. Now if only something or someone can get him awake to enjoy such a day. That’s where a certain Mrs. Mary Grayson enters our picture. 

  As she gently pries open her son’s bedroom door as to not awaken him, clad only in a grey t-shirt and black pants as used for pajamas last night, Mary carefully trudges across the beige carpet towards the bed being occupied by said son. Sure, both her and him have slept in until nearly 9:30 am as of now since their family group, the Flying Graysons, have a day off from practice for today, but frankly had Dick remembered that today’s his birthday from earlier, he would been by now sneaking into his parents’ neighboring room, awaking them both his father John and her up about said day, probably  the best he can think of for a gentle reminder. But due to recent influx of performances across the West Coast, Dick lost count so now it was Mary’s turn to gently remind him and in the best way she knows how. 

  As Mary’s bare feet carefully skirt around the action figures spread across the floor, even picking some up along the way (maybe reminding Dick to next time pick up his toys before bed will come in later tonight), she eventually reaches her son’s twin sized bed and the red, green and yellow pattern blanket that draped over the little guy overnight. In her right hand was a blue fine point marker pen with washable ink while her left gently leans to one end of the blanket where a small tuff of black hair sticks out. Gently caressing her left hand the black mass, Mary can hear a content giggle coming from under the blanket, no doubt her son feeling the familiar, loving motion John and her regularly do as parents can. On normal moments this happens, Dick would playfully push the hand ruffling his black hair away. This time, he just simply lightly giggles in his sleep. Mary was sort of banking the hair ruffling being enough to awaken her son to this bright and beautiful first day of Spring. As soon as her hand though stops with the affectionate ruffling and once more snores are heard coming from Dick, her lips turn into a soft yet mischievous smile; it was time for Plan B. Sure Enough, when looking over to the other end of the blanket and seeing her son’s own two feet, so far socked but with her there not for too long. That marker in her hand has its cap screw off. 

  On some occasions when she was basically passed out from a long night on the trapeze, Mary wold wake to find the soles of her feet with scribbles and doodles all across, most of them featuring the Flying Graysons logo prominently. She almost immediately knew the culprit behind such drawing but often times just leaves it be and even walks on her two feet with drawing and all since the marker ink easily comes off so it was overall no big deal. Besides, her son was just having some harmless fun so why would she dare try ruining that; sure she was strict on some parts of his behavior but this ain’t one of the them. Now though, as she lightly tugs the two socks off her sleeping son as to not awake him, revealing two velvet soles and the ten toes and with her marker in hand, it was time for payback if you may. 

  Starting with lightly drawing smiley faces on his big toes, Dick’s reaction was almost immediate as a slightly louder giggle comes from the blankets and his toes clench. Mary briefly backs off the marker until the toes relaxing and using her free hand, she lightly grabs unto the big ones, leaving his feet still. With that, she can proceed with the rest as sure enough, various other faces across his other toes are drawn along with flowers and even an elephant on the arch of his right foot. As for that last one, the giggling had reached its loudest and looking upward, Mary couldn’t help but smile at the results. Plan B was a success, Dick was awake and laughing his head off due to the scribbling.

   “Momma!” he yells between hearty giggles, “That tickles!” 

   Mary grins a bit, “Oh really?” 

  She continues with that elephant on Dick’s right foot, now holding him still with arm entrapping his ankles tightly, making sure he can’t pull his feet back from that blue marker as it continued its path. Though Mary notes that even then, Dick wouldn’t want to. He had not once told her to stop, indicating that he was enjoying this instead. Frankly, after a long time doing this to her, she couldn’t blame him. All Dick does on his part is lay his head on the pillows, the blankets off of him, allowing Mary to see him clad in a similar style of PJs to hers only with the coloring being a blue t shirt and grey sweat pants instead. To the left of him was his precious stuffed elephant Peanut; ever since being first given that on his 4th birthday, he keeps it close to him whenever going to bed. All this time afterwards, Mary still hasn’t been able in getting her son a second stuffed toy like Peanut much to her disappointment but hey that’s a thought for another time, she has one more spot to draw before she can move on for the rest of the day, the arch on Dick’s left foot.

  At first, Mary thought of drawing the Flying Graysons logo for the finishing touch but instead opts for a more casually yet fitting wording. With that in mind, her blue marker makes contact with the velvet of her son’s arch and starts its ink dripped path. By now, the 7 year old was still in full hysterics over his Momma’s drawings but he will admit, at least it was better waking up from his trapeze swinging dreams like this rather than the sun’s rays shining on him as it usually happens. Finally though, he feels the marker stop and opening his ocean blue eyes, sees his mother put the cap back on. Putting the marker away in her pocket, Mary places a soft kiss on her son’s forehead while giving him another hair ruffle. This time, now fully awake, Dick gently pushes her hand away. 

  His blue eyes meet his mother’s own blue eyes and a wide smile stretches on his face. 

  “Thanks Momma” he chirps happily in Romani Chib. 

  Another motherly kiss, this time his cheek, “You’re welcome, Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about your special day today, My Little Robin” 

  As Mary stands and makes her way back to the door, Dick stretches his arms, letting out a yawn from his mouth doing so. 

  “Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes” Mary states with a warm smile on her face.

  “Cereal, Momma?”

  “Any type you like that we have of course” 

  “I’ll be there soon” Dick says, a wide grin on his face. 

 Mary has a humming giggle of her own before making her own to the kitchen to no doubt prepare her son and her’s bowls for the day. Though of course, they were just getting started. 

  Dick swings his feet to step off his bed and begin trudging to his breakfast, he briefly wonders on what his mother drew on him before putting the marker away. As such, flexing his leg to where he can see the soles and toes of his two feet, Dick smiles of all nice stuff Momma left. Indeed, there were flowers on the balls of his arches, goofy faces on each of his ten toes, what looks like a circus ball on his right heel, a trapeze bar on his left heel, a short yet cute elephant on right foot’s arch and at least the words on his left arch. 

‘Happy 7th B-Day Little Robin, Love Momma’ 

  Now that was love from a mother alright. Dick certainly will never forget this. Now to get the table without stepping on his toys on the floor. 

[songtoyou]

Tempting Fate - Part Thirteen

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 3,019

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone. Miss Young arrives in Small Heath looking for her soulmate and meets the Shelby clan along. At first, Tommy distrusts the newly hired barmaid but soon finds himself drawn to her and can't understand why.

Chapter Summary: Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt. 

A/N: Some sweet moments in this chapter, but of course, we always have to have drama. Thank you all for the amazing support this story has gotten. I only hope you all continue to enjoy reading it. Please continue to let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag List: @owenniasstars  @lovemissyhoneybee​

The following day, you woke up before everyone else to sneak down into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You looked around the kitchen to see what Ada had on hand, which was not much. Thankfully, there were ingredients to make pancakes. You sorted out the correct measurements and put them in a mixing bowl. It was not long until you could hear another pair of footsteps. You turned to see Ada walking in the kitchen. She still looked half asleep as she sat down at the table. You chuckled when she groaned and put her head on the table.

“Coffee or tea?” you asked her.

“I need another hour or two to sleep,” she replied and got up to get the kettle ready. She opened one of the cupboards and got out a frying pan for you to cook the pancakes in. “I’m surprised my brother is not up yet. Normally, Tommy is up at the crack of dawn.”

You stifled a laugh. Yes, you and Tommy had stayed up later than intended after Ada showed you both to one of the guest rooms. Hopefully, your late-night antics with Tommy went unheard by Ada, or heaven forbid, little Karl. You told Tommy that they needed to keep quiet and not disturb his sister and nephew, but the man was adamant that he needed you and didn’t care who heard. 

Ada made you both a cup of coffee and went to retrieve the morning paper. As you continued to cook, she got Karl out of bed to eat breakfast. The three of you sat at the kitchen table eating and conversing with one another. You asked Karl about his school, and he told you about his favorite subjects. “I would have loved to have gone to a real school,” you shared with mother and son.

“You didn’t go to school?” Karl asked, confused, with a mouthful of pancakes.

“Karl, don’t talk with your mouthful,” Ada scolded her son.

“Sorry, mum.”

“No,” you answered him sadly. “My family moved around too much to go to school. My mom taught us how to read and write since she was the one in the family who went to school. But, it still would have been fun to go.”

“I would hate not being able to go to school,” spoke Karl, and you merely smiled at him.

You turned to Ada when she said your name. “How about we leave around eleven to go clothes shopping?” she suggested. “And Karl, speaking of school, you need to go upstairs and get ready. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, Mum.” Karl took one last bite of his pancake and got up to go back upstairs.

He passed his Uncle Tommy on the way, who ruffled his hair. “Hey, kiddo,” Tommy greeted his nephew.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Karl stated and headed to his room to get cleaned up and dressed.

Tommy slowly walked into the kitchen, where he caught sight of you and Ada laughing hysterically. “What are you two laughing about?” Tommy questioned, startling you and Ada.

“Jesus, Tommy!” you yelled, jumping in your seat. “I swear, he makes no noise when he walks.

I need to get him a bell,” you told Ada.

“He’s always been able to do that ever since we were kids. It was always how Tommy won hide and seek or tag. Never could find him or catch him.”

“You want some coffee, Tommy? I made pancakes for breakfast. I’ll make you a plate,” you told Tommy, getting up from the table. First, you kissed Tommy on the lips, which he reciprocated, and sat down next to Ada.

“Morning, big brother. I take you slept well,” teased Ada as she sipped the last of her coffee.

“Yes, I did, sister dear,” Tommy countered with a smirk and grabbed the newspaper from Ada. “The bed was comfy. Slept like a baby.”

“Yeah, I bet. Lots of commotion going on in there last night,” Ada mumbled into the teacup.

You turned to Tommy with a horrified look while he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “I better go check on Karl, make sure he is getting ready and not playing around. He gets distracted so easily, just like his father.” Ada got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Tommy alone.

“I told you we needed to be quiet,” you cautioned him.

Tommy only scoffed and continued to look through the newspaper. “Technically, this is my house. I can do what I want in it.”

“Eat your breakfast, dear,” you ordered and placed a plate of pancakes in front of him. He ate while you made him a cup of coffee and cleaned up. Again, the domesticity between the two of you came naturally. “Ada said she would take me shopping at eleven. Did you want to come along?”

“While I would love to watch you get undressed, I have other appointments today. Plus, I need to get the items you requested.”

Tommy figured he could get the molasses from Alfie Solomons. He had a meeting with the Jewish gangster where they needed to finalize their business transactions. Tommy figured a couple of liters of molasses was an easy task. Tommy was, after all, providing Alfie with soldiers to help him win the war with Sabini. Either way, he was getting you the molasses. He would always make you got what you needed.

You turned to leave the kitchen but stopped when Tommy grabbed your hand. He dragged you back to him so you could sit on his lap. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Tommy nuzzled your neck. You leaned into him when he began kissing along your neck and ear. His hands began to trail up your legs and thighs.

However, you stopped him when he got to your underwear. “Tommy, we can’t. Your sister and nephew are upstairs. We need to behave. Plus, we should get ready ourselves.”

You got up from Tommy’s lap, and you swear you caught the man pouting. He gulped the last of his coffee, which was now lukewarm, and got up from the table.

He once again wrapped his arms around you and kissed you on the lips this time. “Get yourself something spectacular for tonight. I’m taking my girl for a night out on the town.”

“Should I even bother with wearing anything underneath?”

“Surprise me,” Tommy responded and went in for another kiss. Before either of you could deepen the kiss, you could hear Ada and Karl coming down the stairs. You broke apart first and tried to compose yourself.

Tommy left for the living area to retrieve his cigarettes.

“All set for school?” you asked Karl. He looked cute in his school uniform.

“Ready. Here you go.” Karl surprised you with a piece of candy.

“What is this?” you wondered, confused.

“It’s ginger candy. I take when my tummy is upset,” Karl explained. “I figured you could use it since Mum said that the moaning coming from your room was you having an upset stomach.”

You felt your face heat up and must have turned five different shades of ready. “Well, thank you, sweetheart. That is very kind of you.”

Ada did her best to hold back her laughter and ushered her son out the door. You waved goodbye Karl and closed the front door.

“That’s it!” you shouted throughout the house, “We are going to a hotel!”

You never knew shopping for clothes could be so tiring. You were ready for a nap, and it wasn’t even two o’clock yet. Ada made you try everything, and half of the clothes you didn’t even end up buying. You honestly thought shopping for clothes would be a breeze since you didn’t feel you needed much.

Ada finally allowed for a break around three o’clock and took you for afternoon tea. “Ada, do I really need all of these clothes?”

“Of course you do. Tommy told me to go all out for you. And if Tommy wants to spoil you, then by golly, let the man spoil you,” Ada waved off your concerns. “You have to wear the dark green dress tonight. It looks stunning on you.”

You blushed and looked down at your plate of tea sandwiches. “I’m not used to this, having someone buy things for me, especially when money seems to be no object. I’ve told Tommy that I’m not with him for his money. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“I would never think,” Ada began, “Aunt Polly told me about you. She told me that you were special and important to Tommy. I don’t know if you know this, but Aunt Polly has the gift of second sight. She sees things in her dreams. She must have seen you and Tommy in one of them. Saw that you were good for him. After last night and this morning, I can see it too. When Tommy is with you, it is almost like I have my brother back. Tommy wasn’t the same after he came home from the war. None of my brothers were, but the change was more noticeable in Tommy.”

You contemplated what Ada was sharing with you. Often, you wondered what Tommy was like before the war. However, you opted not to ask Polly, and you weren’t going to ask Ada. None of it would make any difference or change the way you felt about Tommy. Yes, he changed, but everyone who came back from the war was different. You experienced it with your family members. Tommy was Tommy, and he was the man you adored, possibly could end up loving one day.

You took a sip of your tea, raspberry flavor. It was pleasant on your throat. “I think with someone like Tommy,” you began to speak, and Ada perked up to listen, “I get the sense that he was a sensitive child. He is the type of person to do right by people. That Tommy didn’t like seeing people get mistreated. It is, sadly, what he experienced growing up. You know, like us gypsies, our community continues to be looked down on. I can tell Tommy has mixed feelings about the way he grew up. He wanted more. After the war and seeing so much death; that made him reevaluate his priorities. Tommy wants more for the Shelby name. He wants the name to mean something, have some sense of importance. And it isn’t just for him, but all of you.”

Ada sighed. She agreed with what you were saying; however, she still had reservations about how Tommy went about getting the things he wanted. “He’s going to get himself killed one day, I fear.”

Truthfully, that scared you too, but you had to tell yourself that Tommy would always make his way home; back to you safe and sound. “Tommy,” you spoke, “always thinks ahead. He is very good at strategizing. That is what will keep him alive.” 

“I hope you are right,” said Ada sadly.

You hoped so as well.

After tea, Ada tried to get you to stop by one more clothing store, but you told her that you had more than enough clothes. At the last stop, you made sure to get a dress for Esme and a pair of fine leather gloves for Polly. You were done with clothes shopping. However, there was something you wanted to get, not for you, but for Arthur. While Ada continued to pursue the clothes on the racks, you told her you were heading out to another store, one that sold art supplies.

“Ada, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get something from across the street,” you told her and left.

When you made it to the art store, you began to look at all of the supplies. You were unsure where to start. Arthur shared with you that he liked to draw, particularly horses before he went off to war. It was one of his favorite hobbies, but he hadn’t picked up a pencil in a long while. You wanted to get him a set of drawing pencils and paper in hopes of getting him back in the habit. If Arthur got back to drawing, it would help him have a positive outlet, rather than drinking or fighting the pain away.

You asked the store clerk which drawing set was best. He tried to get you to pick the most expensive one that included way too many items. Instead, you opted for the twenty-piece pencil drawing set with a wooden case and sketchbook. The pencil kit included graphite and charcoal pencils, ink pens, and shading tools that Arthur could put to good use.

You spent the remainder of the money Tommy gave you on the drawing set and asked the store clerk to wrap it up. When you finished, you walked back to the clothing store where Ada was still perusing the racks. You looked in the bag of the wrapped drawing set and hoped Arthur would like his gift.

“Ada, I think we should be getting back to the house. It is almost five o’clock,” you reminded her.

“Oh shit! Yes, let’s get going. I didn’t realize the time.” Ada, albeit reluctantly, stepped away from the racks of clothes and picked up her bags, and followed you out onto the streets.

A taxi took you both back to the house, but first, Ada had the driver pick up Karl from the home of one of his friends. Greeting you both, Karl sat in between his mum and you. He pulled out a drawing from his knapsack and showed it to you.

“That’s me, Mum, Uncle Tommy, and you,” Karl pointed out. It was the four of you in front of a house with a bright yellow sun in the sky. It was adorable.

“This is lovely, Karl,” you beamed at the young boy.

“I drew it for you to take back to Birmingham. Mum already has many pictures I made for her.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said and kissed him on the top of his head. “I will cherish this. I’ll tell you what, you sign your name at the bottom, and I’ll frame it. That way, when you become a famous artist, I’ll have the first-ever masterpiece by Karl Thorne.”

That made the young boy beam with pride. Ada smiled at the interaction with you and her son.  It proved that she needed to head back to Small Heath more, especially for Karl. He deserved to have his extended family in his life.

When the driver pulled up in front of the house, Ada paid him and helped Karl out of the car. You both retrieved your shopping bags and walked up the steps.

Once inside, you plopped on the couch and took off your shoes. You wiggled your toes to get the blood circulating. Tommy mentioned earlier that he would be back by seven and for you to be ready.

It was already coming up on a quarter to six. You were exhausted, though, so you let yourself take a small fifteen-minute cat nap on the couch. The next you felt was someone shaking you away. You opened your eyes to see Ada standing above you.

“It is almost seven, and you aren’t dressed yet.”

“Shit,” you bolted up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t believe I overslept.”

You grabbed your bags and ran upstairs to the guest room. You proceeded to undress and clean yourself up. Luckily, one of the windows in the bedroom looked out onto the streets. You kept looking outside to see if Tommy pulled up. You probably spent more time checking to see if Tommy arrived than getting ready. The last time you checked, it already twenty minutes past seven o’clock. By a quarter to eight, your stopped getting prepared to go out. You weren’t disappointed, just now worried about where Tommy was and if he was okay. You washed your face free of makeup, put your hair up in a tight bun, and grabbed your robe before heading downstairs.

You saw Karl and Ada at the small dining table, eating dinner. “Why aren’t you dressed?” Ada questioned.

“He isn’t coming,” you told her and poured yourself a whiskey. You gulped it down and poured another one. You took a seat across from Karl and sipped your drink. “I’m too tired anyway. I’ll tell Tommy that we can go out another night.”

Ada gave you a small smile and got up to get you a plate of food. The three of them sat in comfortable silence while eating. You mostly pushed your food around the plate, listening for the sound of someone entering the front door. When dinner was finished, you tried to help Ada with the dishes. “Nonsense, you made breakfast and did the dishes then. It is my turn.”

Karl got your attention by calling your name. “Yes, sweetheart?” you asked him.

“Can I read to you? My teacher says it is important to practice reading out loud.”

“You should be heading to bed, Karl. It is late,” Ada piped in.

“Come on, Mum. Just one story, please,” Karl begged and put on the cutest puppy dog face. Ada could not resist.

“Fine, but only one book, and then it is up to bed. Got it.”

Karl grabbed your hand and dragged you to the living area. You looked at the clock on the wall, and it read nine o’clock. You tried to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach and concentrated on Karl reading a story to you.

You felt yourself being lulled to sleep by the young child’s voice. Just as Karl finished reading, you drifted off to sleep.

Ada draped a blanket over you and put another log in the fire. She wanted to kill Tommy for standing you up. However, she knew her brother wouldn’t do it on purpose. Ada only hoped that Tommy was caught up in something that involved the business, and it wasn’t because he was in trouble or hurt.

[lovingrosewho]

The Executioner’s Song (rewrite, sort of)

NOW, ONTO THE GOOD STUFF, and that means, the new stuff :-) I’ve been rewatching all Supernatural seasons and just had to write this. Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language, feel free to give any feedback/suggestions! <3 Ily all, thanks for reading <3

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Crowley x Reader, sort of Castiel x Reader but in a friendly way

Rating: T. Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.1k+

Summary: the title pretty much explains it buuut, basically, Reader gets upset about Dean betraying Crowley

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED SEASON 10, signs of depression, dialogues taken from the series at the beginning, a few curse words I guess?

When Dean handles the First Blade over to Castiel instead of Crowley, your eyes open wide in shock.

“You lied to me” Crowley says, you can sense the hurt from the betrayal in his voice.

“It’s not the first time today” Dean makes a pause with the demon’s expectant eyes “Cain’s list? You weren’t on it” Dean says and with this, Crowley vanishes.

You begin to feel dizzy, nauseous even, a void made of uncertainty taunts your heart and your stomach, you try to hide it behind being worried about Dean, which is partly true and you let that show as you hug him, relieved he’s alive, in one piece and, mostly, or so it seems, sane. Castiel looks over at you and you just know, he knows.

 The four of you get to the bunker. Not a word from anyone. At the very arrival, you excuse yourself pretending a headache along the tiredness of the whole trip, so you practically run to your room.

The minute you close the door you dial Crowley’s cellphone, your hands shaking as you do so.

 Straight to voice mail. You dial again.

“Damn it Crowley, pick up the fucking phone” you pray lowly.

 Voice mail again. You’ve got to be kidding. You dial a third time.

“What is it that you want?” he finally answers, voice tone a bit raised, taking into account it’s you and he never raises his voice with you, either way, you can’t but let a breath out of relief at hearing him.

“Can you come over here? Please, I’m in my room” you’re not finished telling him and he hangs up.

“Damn it Crowley!” you exclaim again while you dial his number a fourth time, the second ring hasn’t sound when he appears standing in front of you.

“What?!” he almost screams, locking the door of your room with his demon powers. He’s not afraid about Sam and Dean coming in, all guns waving and pointing at him, no, he fears for you, aware that if the Winchesters hear you, not only will they scold you, but could also stop trusting you, hell, they could even lock you up thinking it was his doing the fact that you were friends with him.

“I didn’t know!” you confess instantly, body trembling and feeling like you’re going to puke any minute. You know how Crowley feels about treason, you know damn well and you just can’t let him think you had anything to do with it. He takes a few steps back and looks at you up and down.

“Why should I believe you, (Y/N)? And how? How am I supposed to believe you? Tell me” he raises his voice once again, he doesn’t like doing that with you but this time he just can’t help himself “If you four had only told me the truth I would have gladly agreed and helped you!”

“I know, I know!” you whimper, knowing that is a big-ass declaration from Crowley, and that he wouldn’t normally admit to it, he’s just doing it because it’s you, and he’s hurt. You try to maintain your posture and not let your voice crack weeping “I swear, I had nothing to do with it, if I had known I’d have tried to convince Dean to tell you the truth! I swear!”

Crowley is about to vanish, tired of listening to you, tired of the lies, of the doubts; first his minions being influenced by Abaddon, then his mother, next the Winchesters and now... he never thought he would doubt of his most beloved hunter. A single tear escapes your eyes and Crowley stops dry from disappearing, the temptation to remove that single tear being more powerful than him, the King of Hell.

You’ve known Crowley since he was a blood junkie, locked up in the Winchester’s dungeon. Your friendship started as a naïve excuse to pass the time, at first with just a couple of hostile phrases a day when you found him, and obviously discovered he was a demon, not just any demon but the King of Hell himself, and soon after it turned into something else. When you broke your arm in a fight and had to spend a couple of months skipping on hunts, the boredom increased your time in the dungeon with Crowley while the boys were gone, and you began to admit you liked the guy, perhaps a little too much. Months kept passing and the habit of sneaking into Crowley’s room while the boys were out, stayed, sometimes you would even take the cuffs and chains off of him and let him walk and stretch inside the devils trap, he would always behave and let you put the chains back on. When he managed to free himself from the brothers, he would visit you in your room when no one else in the bunker could hear you; you would talk about anything, his life, your life, Hell, current or past hunts, funny anecdotes... you were not ready to lose that. Not now, not ever. 

Crowley stares deep into your eyes as he holds your face in both his hands and wipes the tear off your cheek. 

“Look at me... and tell me if I’m lying” you say slowly. He sighs.

“I’m sorry, Pet. I can’t” and with this final sentence, he leaves the room, disappearing and leaving you alone.

You swallow hard, your steps conducting you backwards until you hit the end of the bed and are able to sit. At last, you break down in tears, sobs and whines flooding you from the inside out when you hear a knock at the door. 

“(Y/N)?” it’s Castiel “(Y/N) are you okay?”

You don’t respond, and Cas is forced to unlock the door and come in. He stares in shock at you but immediately locks the door back so Sam and Dean won’t come up asking questions. He sits next to you and doubtfully touches your shoulder for you to look at him, which you don’t do.

“He won’t talk to me ever again Castiel” you say in between sobs.

 “Who won’t?” he asks confused, but having a mild idea of who you might be referring to.

 “Crowley! He thinks I knew about Dean handing over the blade to you and not him...” you keep whimpering “He won’t believe me, whatever we had it’s over”.

 Cas nods understandingly and reaches out to hug you, your face covering his chest with tears.

 “(Y/N) maybe it’s for the best... Crowley is...” he begins but you interrupt him, separating from his grip.

 “No you don’t understand. He’s changed. I know it seems impossible but he has. And he truly believed he could be friends with us, I know it, I know him. Castiel I...” your voice breaks.

“(Y/N)” he intertwines his hand with yours “I know”.

He holds you again, and you cry and cry for hours in that same position with him until you fall asleep. Castiel lifts you up and leaves you laying across your bed, he takes your shoes off and puts a few blankets on top of you.

When he comes down everything is quiet, the Winchesters have surely gone to sleep, or at least get some rest after the day they’ve had.

The following morning you don’t come out of your room, not for breakfast, dinner, research, anything.

“What’s up with (Y/N)?” Deans asks, looking towards your room.

“She...” Castiel tries to explain “Wasn’t feeling very well. I’ll go check on her”.

The brothers look at each other and nod at Castiel’s offer.

“Hey, could you please bring her something to eat?” Sam asks politely.

“Yes. Of course” Cas answers.

When he enters your room, he notices you haven’t changed your clothes, and you’re in the same position he left you last night.

“(Y/N)?” he says, leaving a tray of food on your desk “How are you feeling?”

“Not hungry” you say without facing him, smelling the hot breakfast he just left a couple of feet away from you.

“Well... you need to eat. You’re human” he reminds you.

“So? Not hungry” you repeat. He sits beside you and slightly caresses your hair.

“Okay then, we’ll be downstairs if you need us... or just, you know, pray for me” he tells you before getting up and prepare to leave your room until you jump all of a sudden. 

“Wait! Castiel!” you say, startling him.

“What? Whats is it?”

“Please... don’t tell Dean what this is about... he’ll just... he wouldn’t understand” you beg him. Cas nods his head in agreement. 

“Of course”.

When Cas comes down, both Winchesters are looking at him, raising his hands as asking what is going on.

“It’s... like I said, she’s not feeling very well” he tells them when he’s at the table with both.

“Well what does she have?” Deans asks demandingly.

 “I... she wouldn’t say” Cas lies, which gains him a weird look from Dean.

 “Ok that’s it, I’m going up” declares Dean and Cas gets up sharply.

 “Dean! No! She said she didn’t wanna be bothered” Castiel exclaims worried.

 The weird look on Dean remains until he rolls his eyes, says “fine” and heads for the kitchen instead.

 Sam has stayed silent the whole time until Dean leaves.

 “Cas” Sams calls him in a low voice “Is this about Crowley?”

 Castiel sighs and nods.

 “Guess she’ll just have to pull through with this one” Sam follows Castiel’s sigh.

 You don’t go out of your room for two days in a row, sadness consuming you. The third day you decide you’ve had enough and come downstairs to help the boys with research, no one says a word but Dean.

“Hiya there kiddo, had us worried sick but Cas said you didn’t wanna be bothered, everything okay?” Dean tells you, making you smile softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just you know, some headaches, it felt like I was hungover the whole day, guess that tension from the last adventure really took a hit on me” you lie marvelously. 

“Yeah. But you’re back, we are back, and that’s what matters” Dean tells you and you smile nodding, containing your tears again, you know you are not fully back.

It’s been a couple of weeks and Crowley won’t answer any of your calls, hence you stop calling him.

You miss him, you miss his voice and spending time with him. The boys notice even if you’re back up enlisting on hunts and helping them, something’s definitely off with you. You don’t eat enough, you practically don’t sleep, you barely smile or laugh anymore, and you seem distracted half of the time. It hurts Castiel more than anyone seeing you like this, so he decides to break his vow and talk to Dean.

“You have to call Crowley” he tells Dean when he and Sam are alone in the bunker whilst you are in your room “You have to tell him it was your idea to give the blade to me, you can even mention Sam but not (Y/N)”.

“And why would I do that?” Dean asks confused and a bit angry.

“Look around you Dean” Sam tells him “Something’s off with (Y/N) since that day, it’s not even 9pm and she’s already locked in her room, she didn’t even eat when we got back”.

Dean looks at both of them and grunts.

“How are you so sure this is about Crowley?”

 “Because she told me” Castiel confesses “Now, call him”.

 Dean looks impassive at Cas and Sam but takes his phone out and dials Crowley’s number.

 First call goes to voice mail.

 “Well that’s it, I’m not calling that dickbag again” he declares and Cas catches his arm, grabbing and stopping him from putting away his cellphone.

 “Try again” Castiel threatens. Dean rolls his eyes but agrees.

 “Squirrel, long time no see” Crowley finally answers “How are you?”

 “Listen you son of a bitch” Dean begins “I don’t know what you did or told (Y/N) but...”

 “Oh I didn’t tell, much less do, anything to her”.

 It hasn’t been easier for Crowley. He’s got the advantage he doesn’t eat nor sleep, but distraction has definitely been present. Every time his mother or his minions call him he’s just thinking of you, about answering your calls, about calling back. He misses you, your voice, your laugh.

“Well she hasn’t been okay and the only thing I know is it has to do with you” Dean tells him “She hasn’t anything to do with the fact that I didn’t handle you the blade, that’s on me, Sam and perhaps Cas, but not her. She knew nothing, you hear me? Nothing. ‘Cause see here’s the thing, we didn’t tell her ‘cause I knew you two got along and if I had told her she would have put up a fight and claim it was unfair. Now she won’t sleep, nor eat enough, she’s distracted on hunts and that almost got her killed a couple of times already, so you either fix it or I’ll come down there looking to kill you Crowley I swear”.

With this last phrase he hangs up and throws his phone away, without expecting Crowley to answer, this is non-negotiable.

The King of Hell’s stomach suddenly fills with hope and excitement, it’s not the fact that Dean called him about what happened, no, it’s just that he did not know you cared that much for him, he’d figured after a while you would stop calling and move on.

You wake up in the middle of the night and... what time is it exactly? Phone says 3am. Great. You sit slowly, yawning, still sleepy, and turn on your bedside lamp.

Suddenly you see Crowley standing in front of you and you almost scream whilst reaching for your gun.

“Crowley! For the love of... what the actual hell are you doing in my room?!” you hiss at him, exasperated, tossing the gun aside.

“Well hello to you too, love” he exclaims sarcastically.

“Answer the question, what are you doing here?” you ask again, tired and afraid this is just some sick joke.

“I was bored. Thought I’d pay you a visit” he says walking, or more like snooping, around your room. 

“And you needed to do that at 3 in the morning? When I’m sleeping? And when you haven’t returned my calls in weeks?” you reclaim but he stays silent, still going through some of the stuff placed at your desk. 

You exhale sharply. 

“Whatever, I need to pee, do not touch anything, you understand me?”

 “Yes, yes. Understood, Pet. I’ll be right here”.

You get up from your bed and walk barefoot towards the restroom. When you’re sit in the toilet, your mind begins wondering what truly brings the King of Hell to your room. Perhaps he’s aware that you miss him. Perhaps he misses you too. Or maybe it’s a dream. Maybe he is telling the truth and was just bored of all the meetings.

 You get back to your room to find Crowley laying across your bed.

 “Everything alright, Pet? Was beginning to wonder what took you so long” he tells you. Deep, dark stare into your eyes.

 “Yeah” you say, approaching the edge of the bed, staring back at him “I do everything slower at this time. Now, scoot over”.

 He slides a few inches to the side of the bed, letting you lay down next to him. You turn a few degrees facing him, while Crowley keeps looking at the ceiling, but paying attention to every and each one of your moves, that is until you place your arm across his chest and your hand begins mindlessly caressing the thin fabric from his suite shirt, while you breathe in his scent, the sulphur, the ash, the expensive scotch and fresh cologne.

“(Y/N)?” he begins carefully, voice low “What are you doing?“

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Yes, beg your pardon, why are you doing it?” Crowley asks but cautiously places an arm around you and starts stroking your hair.

“I... I’ve missed you” you confess as you bury your face in his shoulder “Does... does this bother you?”

Your question puts a soft smile in his mouth while he turns to look at your half-hidden face. 

“Not in the slightest, kitten” his declaration is greeted with a relieved and dreamy sigh from you “I’ve missed you too, you know?”

 “You have?” you ask incredulously “I thought you didn’t care...”

 “Of course I care. But here I thought you were the one who didn’t care...” that’s when your engines start rotating and it hits you.

 “Did you speak to Castiel?” you interrogate him, fully facing him now.

 “Castiel? No. I spoke to Dean though” he says guessing what happened. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have let Dean figure out what you were so upset about, Cas must’ve told him “He wanted some intel on someone, don’t know, don’t care, and it slipped the fact that you weren’t feeling so well”.

“What else did he say?” you ask him, going back to your task of running your fingers across his chest. In this moment, you couldn’t care less how he found out, he’s here, with you.

He inhales deeply.

“That you had nothing to do with the idea of lying to me...” he feels your body tense underneath him “Which, by the way, I figured a couple of hours after our little discussion”.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” anger beginning to creep on you, body still stiff.

“Because I thought you didn’t care that much” he admits “I thought it was for the best. To be honest, I was unsure about what to even tell you after the tantrum I threw that day”.

He places a hand under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

 “I am sorry, (Y/N)” the King of Hell apologizes and you relax, hugging him a bit tighter.

 “I love you” he’s taken aback by your declaration but after a few seconds he smiles gently.

 “I love you too, Pet” with this sentence he brings your chin up and lowers his lips sweetly onto yours. He tastes like honey, citrus and scotch, and all you ever thought he’d taste like.

 The kiss is so tender and so slow that you’re able to wander your hand towards his hair and then his cheek. 

When the two of you break the kiss, you spend an exaggerated amount of time looking at each other, assimilating the reciprocated love. After a while you start talking about everything and nothing, just like old times, cuddling until you fall asleep, and Crowley, the King of Hell, has the honor to be the one to hold you in his arms.

MASTERLIST

[crystalirises]

I just binge read all your fundy one shots and had an idea.

Sooooo you know how the little mermaid has a sequel???? Ariel has a daughter named Melody, and during her baptism they're attacked day Ursula sister. Ariel builds a wall around the castle and Melody hates them and sneaks out all the time.

I was just thinking red haired mermaid + handsome prince who likes music + walls and didn't know where to go from there

Oh god I loveddddd the sequel to that movie! It was just so good, and omg you’re totally right! I didn’t realize how kinda similar some of the stuff are when it comes to Fundy’s life. :333

Anyway, I made this short (again, is this even short lol) one-shot about this idea. Some stuff are different cause well, I honestly forgot some stuff about the movie since I watched it when I was like 12 skskks. Anyway, hope you like this!

Sally cradled the precious bundle closer to her chest as Wilbur guided her down the steps that led from the captain’s quarters to the deck of the ship. She scoffed as he quickened his pace, stretching out a hand as though to help her down the last steps. Ever the gentleman, her king of music. She took his hand, refraining from jumping down with the precious cargo in her hold. The sun was bright in the sky as they looked out into the sea, her people flocking near the edge of the boat to catch a glimpse of the small prince of the land and sea. The baby gurgled happily in her arms as she rocked him back and forth, waving a hand towards her sister who had settled nearby. Niki waved back, crooning sadly that she wouldn’t be able to actually see their new addition to the family. Fundy wasn’t quite like the mermaids - like Sally - taking on a more human-form with the addition of fox-like attributes that Sally just knew came from Wilbur. There was no other option.

“They seem excited.” Wilbur chuckled, hands against the rails as he gazed down at the mermaids. There was a twinkle in his eye as he wrapped an arm around Sally, cooing down at their beloved boy. “He’s just so small... so fragile. I’m going to cry, Sal.”

“Like you don’t do so every night each time you put Fundy to sleep.”

Sally leaned into his touch, resting her head against his shoulder as she continued to rock Fundy in her arms, the small baby giggling as he tried to reach for a strand of her long curly hair. She leaned down to boop his little noise, smiling as Fundy reached up a hand to boop hers too. Wilbur kept his family close as they stared out into the waves, the party was in full-swing behind them, but they stayed where they were. She could hear Wilbur’s younger brothers arguing in the background on a matter regarding what she could only assume was Tommy stealing some of Techno’s stuff. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her father-in-law, Phil, heading towards him. There was a serene look on the man’s face, his stance relaxed as he approached the couple with an ease and regality that only a king could ever hold. He had retired from the position recently, trusting Wilbur with the kingdom and now here they were, celebrating the first birthday of the kingdom’s heir. Sally held Fundy closer as Phil finally reached them, patting Wilbur on the shoulder and pulling Sally into a one-armed hug. She never knew the comfort of a parent, having only her younger sister, Niki, for company.

“Not going to join in the  festivities, mate? I could watch Fundy for both of you, if you’d like.” Sure enough, Fundy began to reach his little arms towards his grandfather, whining as Sally continued to hold onto him.

“In a minute, dad. Sally and I were just enjoying the view.” Sally let Wilbur take Fundy from her, the newly crowned king rubbing a hand against Fundy’s soft ginger curls before pressing a kiss to the babe’s forehead. Wilbur chuckled as Fundy suddenly gripped a loose brown curl from Wilbur’s hair, the baby holding onto it tightly that Wilbur couldn’t escape. Phil shook his head at the small display, Sally giggling at the sight as Wilbur looked up at them with pleading eyes. Soon enough, Fundy got bored and started to squirm in Wilbur’s arms, reaching towards Phil with grabby hands. The baby’s eyes were fixed to Phil’s wings, clearly wishing to pluck a feather or two if Wilbur and Sally were to allow it. Phil wasted no time in scooping his grandson up, the small baby yipping in the older man’s hold as he settled into his grandfather’s arms. Sally mentally crooned as she looked down at her baby. At least he’ll always have the love of his family. Fundy would grow up with his mother, his father, his grandfather, and his three uncles. “Although, maybe we could spare a few minutes. My little champion seems to want to spend some time with his grandpa, hm?”

“Don’t call me that, mate, you’re making me feel old.” Phil scoffed, holding Fundy in his arms with a gentleness that the king only ever showed towards family. Sally took the opportunity and looped an arm around Wilbur’s, dragging him off towards the center of the deck where most of the partygoers were. Phil gave her a small smile as they left before turning to look out into the distance, cradling a cooing Fundy in his arms. Wilbur looked down at her in surprise, eyes blinking as those deep dark brown eyes - that reminded her so much of the dark ocean depths that she once resided in - looked at her with such love and endearment. How could she have been so lucky as to have him? It had been his heart-song that had made her so deeply in love with him. That and he wasn’t that bad of a looker either.

“If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have just said so, love.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, my king?” She leaned in closer, their faces nearly touching when the band began to play a familiar tune. She gasped, Wilbur’s eyes widening before wrapping his arms around her. The band was playing their song, the song that they had danced to on the night of their wedding. It wasn’t quite the traditional slow song that Wilbur said most weddings had. It was a fast-paced yet short tune, a ditty if you will, that left the dancers breathless and nearly exhausted once it finally concluded. His hands were on her waist, her hands pressed against his shoulders in a sort of faux waltz despite the music that was playing. From the corner of her vision, she could see that the crowd had dispersed, leaving space for Wilbur and Sally to dance if they so wanted to. She smirked, leaning up until her lips were close to Wilbur’s, her breath against his face as she looked up at him with a raised brow. “Well, my king, care for a dance?”

“As if you have to ask, love.” Wilbur grinned. Then they were dancing, their steps hurried and quick as they heard the crowd cheer and clap. Of course, Sally led the dance - as if she’d ever let Wilbur lead. Wilbur adjusted to her steps accordingly, knowing exactly what she was doing and feeling great pleasure at letting his wife take control of a skill that she had tried so hard to master.

As they danced, the creak of the wood pierced through the air as the band started another round of songs. The crowd began to join in, Sally catching a glimpse of Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo amongst the crowd - though Techno was simply standing in the sea of people with an awkward look on his face. Wilbur noticed and left Sally to dance by herself. She watched as Wilbur headed towards Techno, no doubt to help his brother with the sudden influx of people in the small space of the center deck. After a few minutes, she broke off to let herself rest, whizzing through the crowd until she reached Phil who had his wings raised in the air. She ducked beneath his left wing, glancing down towards her son who had managed to fall asleep in Phil’s arms. She pressed a gentle kiss on the sleeping babe’s forehead, glad to know that she can trust Phil to put his grandson to sleep. There was a small feather clutched in Fundy’s arms, a content smile on the baby’s face as he snuggled closer to what he was holding. Phil shook his head, chuckling before pulling Sally into a one-sided hug.

“Wilbur went to help Techno. I hope Fundy wasn’t too much of a nuisance... and that him plucking one of your feathers off didn’t hurt.” Phil laughed, shaking his head as he passed Fundy over to Sally. The baby stirred, but didn’t wake as Sally held him closer, cooing about how adorable he was when he wasn’t awake trying to pull other people’s hair or feathers off. She remembered Phil shrieking the first time it had happened during the first time she had let him carry his grandson. Now, Fundy’s crib consisted of feathers hanging overhead - although those came from the ones that naturally fell off Phil’s wings. “I’m glad you got him to sleep so easy, it usually takes forever━”

She felt the shift in the air before she noticed the dark clouds that had rolled in. Phil tensed up, his wings wrapping around her and Fundy protectively as they all took an instinctive step back. Everyone had gone quiet, the band that had played so loudly ceasing to a lull as the crowd began to disperse. The clouds roiled overhead, yet not a single drop of rain came from above. There was a static crackle in the air that didn’t felt like lightning poised to strike. Sally looked down, her people that were once there having vanished back into the sea with only her sister left on the surface. Niki gazed up at her, worry dancing in her eyes before she too vanished into the depths. Sally felt her breath caught in her throat, clutching Fundy closer as she realized what was causing this chaos.

“Sally! Sally!” She heard Wilbur’s voice call out from across the deck, his curly brown hair appearing within view as he tried to reach for her. She felt the arm around her shoulder tense up, the air screaming to a halt as Phil shouted for Wilbur to get back. There was a low whistle in the air and she heard Wilbur scream as a trident sailed past him, nearly grazing his cheek as it lodged itself into the wood of the main mast. She shrieked, teeth clenched together in anger at the thought of anyone daring to hurt her Wilbur, but Phil kept her where she was. They all stood in utter silence, until a flash of lightning - actual lightning - broke through the sky, a figure appearing at the front of the ship. The familiar painted smile on that damned porcelain mask seared itself into her memory.

Dream tilted his head, “Hello.”

---

Fundy watched curiously as a bit of ocean water seeped past the tall blackstone walls that kept him prisoner within the palace. He laughed as the water tickled his feet, reaching down to feel the cool water against his face as he patted his hands against the water. He looked up, noticing a small grate on the side of the wall that led directly to the ocean. He held back his excited gasp, before deciding to make a break for it.

A pair of arms caught him just as he was squirming his way between two bars, the familiar scent of salt hitting his nose as his mom held him in her arms. He blinked up at her, ears pressed against the top of his head, whining as he was taken away from the grate that presented freedom. He could see his dad by the doorway, a hand clutching at the stone wall as his mom brought him back into the palace. He tried to squirm out of her grip, but she was unrelenting and only let him down once his dad had closed and locked the door behind them. He stomped a foot against the floor, tail bristling in indignation. 

“I wan’ go out.” He pointed towards the window, locked (he should know, Fundy had tried it before he realized someone had left the door unopen) but it served a greater purpose of showing him the outside world. The walls had always blocked the ocean view, but his parents knew that he wanted to see it. So why weren’t they letting him? His mom sighed, crouching down so she could look him in the eyes. She cupped her cheek, pain dancing in her sea green eyes as she stuttered to answer him. He huffed, looking away as he crossed his little arms in front of his chest. His dad had moved to stand at his side and he could feel a hand rubbing the top of his head and scratching behind his ears. It would have been nice if they hadn’t kept him from leaving. He wanted to see the vast blue ocean that his storybooks always talked about, to see the shells and the fish that he’d occasionally see pictures of. “Don’ wanna talk, I angy.”

“Sorry, baby. But you know how dangerous the ocean is... We can do something else if you’d like, honey. Anything you want for the entire day, how does that sound?” Despite the anger he held in his tiny little body, he slowly began to forget as his dad began to pet his ears and his mom began to pick him up again. They held him in their arms, doting on him as if trying to make him forget what he wanted in the first place. He purred, happy to be the center of his parent’s attention. Even if he did feel a bit coddled, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend an entire day with his parents.

“Go nyoom!” His parents laughed as he raised up his arms, both of them setting him back onto the ground as they both counted from 1 to 10. He giggled, turning to leave the small room they were in. He wouldn’t be caught so easily.

And as Fundy ran away, he spared a single glance back, catching a glimpse of the grate that he had tried to escape from.

‘Someday.’ He thought to himself, and then he was running, his parents chasing after him as they tried to coax him to come back. He giggled, happy to play chase with them even if it meant giving up momentary freedom.

---

Somewhere, a man clad in a white mask sits upon a throne, trident in hand. He had sensed the little one call out to the ocean. Truly, it was a pity that his own kind would ever interact with a human.

Ah, well. He’d just have to take both of them back then.

‘Someday, indeed.’

---

*brain processing noises*

Listen. I don’t know XD

Okay, explanation. Sally is not royalty, she is just a normal mermaid who happened to have fallen in love with Wilbur - who was the crown prince but in this one-shot he is now the king of L’Manburg. Sally’s only family is Niki here while Wilbur has Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo.

Essentially, mermaids in this world have the ability to transform into a human form but they usually don’t do so cause they fear humans.

Now, yes, Dream is kinda king Triton and Morgana in this AU (no he is not related to Sally XD). Essentially, Dream is the king of the mermaids and he really does not want his people to associate with humans, so Sally has pretty much angered him for deciding to fall in love with human. However, he won’t hurt them, he just wants them back in the ocean and stuff. Yes, he also considers Fundy as one of his people since one of Fundy’s parents is a mermaid. So ye...

This is confusing and I apologize. I hope you guys like this tho! Also, to the anon, I cross-posted this on ao3. I hope that’s alright with you!

[zeppelin-and-unicorns]

Black Peonies preview

A/N: This is the first chapter of the J/H soulmate AU fanfic I’ve been working on for a really long time. I do not plan on posting it on AO3 or ff.net for now, because I have yet to finish writing the last couple of chapters.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this sneak peek.

Trigger Warning: Explicit child abuse

Chapter one:

January, 1970

Steven Hyde walked through the dark streets of Point Place alone. Mr. Forman’s brother from Chicago got hurt, and the whole Forman clan went to see him for the weekend, which means that Hyde had nowhere to go.

He stayed with Kelso and Donna for a big chunk of the day, but Bob doesn’t like when Donna has boys over after it was dark out, so he and Kelso had to take off.

He walked Kelso to his home, because Hyde was not in a hurry to get to his own house. It was a Saturday, and Edna tends to go a little crazy on Saturdays, that’s why he would often sleep over at the Forman’s.

He was lucky Bob and Midge made them snacks too, because Edna rarely buys any food for the weekends. She tends to spend the little money they have on booze and drugs.

He spent as much time as possible walking around, trying to avoid going home to Edna, but there wasn’t much he could do, it was very cold outside, and he didn’t have a nice jacket to keep him warm, he needed to go home. It was trashy, but at least there was heat. He hoped Edna would be passed out by now, but he doubted, it was still early.

The minute he reached his block, he sighed. He could already hear the sounds of beer bottles clinking and the voices of his mom’s stoner friends, she definitely was not asleep, crap.

Someone threw a beer bottle at his direction, and the glass shattered all over the shitty pavement. He glanced at the direction the bottle came from, and saw his mother’s laughing figure sitting on the porch. Fucking fantastic.

“Home already, kiddo?” She asked, slurring with her words and blowing the smoke from the cigarette in her hand.

“It’s cold” He shrugged, and tried to get inside the house before his mother would start with her usual drunken ramblings, that usually ended up with her blaming him for her shitty life.

His mother grabbed his arm to stop him and he sighed in frustration.

“You couldn’t have stayed with your friend today?” She asked bitterly

“He’s outta town with his folks” He answered, hoping she would drop it and let him go to his room.

“It wasn’t enough for you to ruin my career, now you have to ruin my weekend too?” She said, puffing out another cloud of smoke

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had somewhere else to go” Hyde answered 

“Aren’t you a smartass?” Edna taunted him, and laughed slyly.

“I want to go inside, it’s cold” Hyde said simply, if he learned something from all of his 11 miserable years with Edna, is that there was no use in arguing with her.

“I know something that will warm you up in a second” She slurred out and laughed, forcefully grabbing his right hand on her bony fingers and putting out her cigarette on his skin.

He felt his skin burning and tried to pull his hand off her tight grip, the pain brought tears into his eyes and it was almost unbearable. But she held on tighter, pressing the burnt stub onto his skin as she laughed.

"Tears?" Edna mocked at the sight of Hyde's teary eyes "Aren't you supposed to be a tough guy?"

He held himself back. He wanted to tell her to fuck off so badly, but he knew better. If he did, he would have to spend the night wandering the streets, and he wasn't in the mood to freeze to death.

She flicked the bud onto the snow, and finally let go of his hand. The pain didn't go away though, in fact, it got worse. He thanked a God he wasn't so sure he believed in for making Wisconsin winters so cold. He would be able to hide the burn by wearing gloves and ease the pain by shoving his hand onto the snow that probably accumulated by his bedroom's dingy window.

Hyde glanced one last time at his stoned and drunk pathetic excuse of a mother and headed inside the house, holding his right hand on his left one.

Sometimes he wished the soulmate thing wasn't real. He doesn't like the thought of an innocent girl suffering all the pain his mother puts him through.

But he knew better, the universe never cared about his wishes, otherwise he would have a different mother. He just hoped that the girl who had the bad luck of being his soulmate had a strong support system or whatever, because his shitty reality isn't changing anytime soon.

Meanwhile, in Point Place's community theater…

10 year old Jackie anxiously tried to peek through the closed blinds, today was probably one of the most exciting days of her life, she was about to play on her first piano recital ever! She was trying her hardest to not be nervous, because she’s a Burkhart, and Burkhart’s excel on absolutely everything they do – according to her mother. She practiced every day for hours, she wanted to be perfect, because both of her parents promised they’d watch her play today.

“Miss Burkhart, it’s almost time, are you ready?”

“Yes I am, Mrs. Crawford! I have my sheet here with me – even though I don’t need it, just as a precaution” Jackie said excitedly, and her music teacher smiled

“You’re going to do great, Jackie” She said with a small smile “Go wait over there, you’re up next” 

Jackie nodded and went to wait where her teacher indicated. Her heart was beating so fast, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She couldn’t wait to be praised by her parents.

They already missed her dance recital, and neither of them were there when she won the trophy for “Prettiest Ballerina”, but they promised they would attend her piano recital, that’s why she decided she would play one of the hardest songs, so she could impress them.

She knew none of her colleagues had the ability to play this song; most of them were playing “Fur Elise” or “Ode to Joy”. She wanted to be the best, so she chose “Clair de Lune” by Debussy, one of her father’s favorites songs. He likes to listen to it when he’s smoking his cigars, so she made sure to learn just to make him proud.

When she heard Mrs. Crawford calling her name, she’d put on her stage smile, the one her mother taught her so long ago. When she entered the stage, she glanced at the audience, trying to find the familiar faces of her parents. She didn’t see either of them, and she had to repress the urge to cry.

They bailed on her, again. They promised they would make it!

She took a deep breath and saw Martina’s familiar face. She was giving her a sad smile, and Jackie sighed. She likes Martina, but she would never fill the hole left by her mother. It’s not like Martina wants to be there anyways, she only went because she’s paid to do so.

Jackie quickly forced a smile and went to sit at the piano bench. If her parents didn’t want to be there, that’s their loss. There was a good amount of LOPP’s mothers there, she hoped they would tell her mother later how she played beautifully, and her mother better feel bad.

She stretched her fingers the way Mrs. Crawford taught her, and placed the music sheet on its proper place. The second her fingers touched the piano keys, she felt herself relaxing a bit, and when she started to play, she genuinely smiled. The first couple of minutes of the song went smoothly, some people even clapped when she mastered the transition from the slow part of the song to the slightly faster one.

Then she stopped playing, and not because the song was over.

Out of nowhere, she felt a blinding pain on her hand. She whimpered in pain and held her right hand with her left one, tears involuntarily falling from her eyes.

Mrs. Crawford quickly ran to see what was going on with her best student, and she sighed when she saw a black peony forming on the girl’s hand. 

“It’s burning, Mrs. Crawford” Jackie cried, and the older woman placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I know honey, you know what that means, right?” She said, and Jackie nodded.

That means that her soulmate was hurting. Again.

Last week Jackie got a new flower on her shoulder, and the week before that, she felt like someone was slapping her on her face.

Thank God that bruises on the face don’t leave flower marks, otherwise people would see her as a freak, because she feels like she’s being slapped or punched on at least once a week.

Mrs. Crawford guided her out of the stage, and made her sit on a small bench near the dressing rooms. Jackie carefully rubbed her hand, the pain was starting to subside a little, the black peony marking the exact place where it was hurting.

“Do you want to go back and start again, Jackie?” The woman gently asked, and Jackie shook her head.

All she wanted to do was go back home and pray for her soulmate to get the help he needs. She doesn’t know why he gets hurt so often, but she wanted it to stop. For both of their sakes.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hello loveys! Here is chapter four of

‘Tis the Damn Season

~Let It Snow~

Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta and late night video mining thanks it Night Niki!

Enjoy! Reblogs are Love!!

"We have a problem," Harry states as he comes in the room. Emma's heart nearly stops and she feels exposed. Not just because she is naked, though she is literally bare, but because he's just been downstairs to talk to the landlady and Emma is terrified of what the hell the problem could be.

He was just downstairs, while she was luxuriating in the sheets scented like them. What could he have encountered there that would lead to this deadpan voice and monotone face?

Emma's mind is good at this, at possibilities, it's why she's good at her studies and internships, she can run through lots of scenarios in her head and then plug in logistics and costs and benefits. She doesn't even need a spreadsheet unless you get beyond a handful of variables.

Variable one - she's gonna think of them as variables because problems are more nerve wracking - there are fans outside. They've heard from someone, through a grapevine or hedgerow, that Harry stays here a couple days each Christmas.

Emma can see a way out of this, though it requires sending Harry to be the sacrificial lamb. He will have to go to the altar and sign things, which is better than being beheaded, and take pictures and give hugs and lead them away. Then Emma can linger, maybe eat lunch in the pub garden and leave when the coast is well and truly clear. It's not how she wants to spend their last day this break together, but it gets them both out of here unexposed, if not totally unscathed.

This is the best case scenario.

Variable two - while he was downstairs Gemma texted. She's cottoned on. Well, Emma is totally afraid and halfway sure her friend can sense that she's sleeping with her little brother every chance she gets and hasn't been honest about it. Emma knows Harry has not been forthright either. The puzzle pieces can't be hard to put together. They've gotten lazy. No, the word is addicted. The fact that they both always disappeared and went dark for the same number of days was more than noticeable the first time, it wasn't a pattern yet thought. An easy to recognize and predict four three year old pattern. Emma is good at those too, patterns. So is Gemma, all those themes, all those books.

They'd talked about it, she and Harry, that second year, their first meet up with intent. Agreed they would be limited, controlled, discreet. They would meet late, after pub crawls, and only get together after Gemma went back to London.

She's not sure who they were fooling.

Because then, instead, they just holed up, skipped social events, turned up moments apart from one another and left the same way. Basically they'd ignored every one of their rules, the ones they'd designed to keep their secret. They couldn't help themselves, nor stay away. She had to sit on her hands and never look at him to keep from touching or kissing in public. Harry didn't even bother.

Last year, Gemma had made a few comments, about them flirting, about Harry peacocking around Emma, about them leaving at the same time. About his hands on her.

Emma remembered when they'd pulled themselves out of each other's arms, him to go home, her to a meet up with Gem and some others. He was definitely less stealthy, not sleeping at home and all, but he insisted on holding her while he fell asleep and waking up to her kisses. What was she supposed to do but melt?

Emma had been late, because of course she was, she'd almost been out the door when he'd asked to be kissed goodbye. "I just put on lipstick." She'd shaken her head, and then his face had taken on that impish hue and he'd kissed her lipstick and clothes off. The waiting Uber had left without her and she lost her perfect 5 star rating.

She'd come in, flushed apologizing and lying about her mother needing her to go to the shops. Gemma had pushed her a drink and given her a look. Like she knew, why Emma was late and Harry was sneaking out to sleep in a shitty pub bed. Then later, she'd said, "Harry's up to something, someone, he's been staying out all night again. My mum isn't that bothered, but I just want to know who." The look she'd turned on Emma was nothing short of an invitation.

Emma could have confessed. But it felt like a final chapter, a bookend she wasn't ready for, so she'd shrugged and suggested maybe he had a girl in Manchester, or a boy. It had been a joke, but Gemma hadn't blinked, and Emma wasn't surprised either, so that seemed interesting. Luckily the conversation flowed beyond that when a new old friend arrived.

Gemma kept giving her looks though.

Emma did feel like she was wearing a scarlet H.

And she'd come to the party with it two days ago. The letter may not have been apparent on her sweater, the kinda ugly but also perfect Christmas sweater she'd found at the thrift store one day. It was red, the threads of it shot through with silver, like it was made of tinsel. And it was big, she was wearing it as a dress. The expediency of last year's dress fed her lunacy this year. They should definitely control themselves this time. Thank god the door had been locked.

The big H over the heart of her sweater cum dress was probably only visible to her.

And possibly to Harry, from the way he had zeroed in on her. He'd greeted her when she came in the kitchen door with a lingering kiss on her cheek. She was totally breathless just from seeing him. He had grown. He was a bit taller and seemed to have slimmed down. And his hair was brushing his shoulders in this way that could only be described as princley. She was waiting and hoping for true love's kiss.

That was probably why, when he looked around naughtily and scooted her over 5 steps to be under the mistletoe, she hadn't even been able to find an eye roll of protest. The kiss had tasted like home, because he was the best thing about Christmas and coming home to Holmes Chapel. He was what she longed for on days that literally didn't end in Iceland, cozy nights with him, under the blankets near a fire. It lingered, his lips on hers, the slick of his Christmas cookie scented tongue. He held her a moment later, the hug lasted too long as well.

"Oooh, Harry get off!" Gemma had harrumphed.

Emma had been sure her face was bright red, but Harry had just rolled with it, pointed to the mistletoe, and said, "Seemed more appropriate than a full make out!" He'd pulled back and tossed that comment over his shoulder but winked at her as his hands dropped. It had seemed to satisfy for that moment. That was before Emma had ignored rules and definitely fallen into her pattern. The Boar's Head on Boxing Day and maybe a few more. Hell, even the landlady recognized them and told them she'd saved their preferred room for them. Gemma was quick, sharp as a knife blade and could cut like one too, when hurt.

Maybe Gemma had gotten sick of the unexplained sober night disappearing acts and called him out.

Would they come clean? Did that mean this was over? Did that mean this was beginning?

Emma wasn't even sure what she wanted. This was the worst case scenario, that those they loved and were deceiving knew.

Or, maybe they knew for an even worse reason.

Variable three - it had gotten out to the press. Someone had snapped a photo of them kissing before the "we were just hugging" excuse. Or got them together here in a more salacious situation. Going to a room together - no - that can't be right. They meet here, behind closed doors, no one can get to them here, it's like their fortress. Nobody knows. Would the landlady sell them out?

Emma takes a deep breath, she's just given herself some very rapid fire and escalating worst case scenarios. She needs more data. "What's wrong?" Her voice is steady.

Maybe not steady enough, he looks up with his brow quirked and his mouth a bit drawn.

He reads her, she feels him open her up like the spine of a book. She hopes he doesn't ask. How long would it take to explain the crazy journey her mind just took? Instead he just tilts his head and gives her a naughty smile. "We're stuck!" His eyebrows raise like he's just told her he found a stash of herbs that act like viagra.

"Huh?" For as quick a thinker as she is, she feels really behind. May have been that smile's promise, or that his news is simple, innocuous, not full of consequences.

"Come look." His head motions to the window he is standing in front of. He puts her in front of him immediately and hooks his chin over her shoulder. "We're snowed in!" He's gleeful.

"You'll miss your flight." She sounds worried. This would stress her out.

"I will, but I won't miss out on you! And I can't get my ass chewed because this is an act of God!"

"An act of God to get you laid!" She laughs. She's joking.

He doesn't look amused. "I already got laid." He tries for a playful eye roll, it doesn't land, like when you jump off a swing and miss, tumble over, twist an ankle. "I'm excited, how cozy is this! We get to hang out for at least another day. We can order food in and stay in bed and watch movies! Everyone else will be snowbound too so we won't have to put on real clothes or anything at all and go to the pub or family dinner or anything. Just us two with no obligations!"

He looks gleeful to have extra time off. She shouldn't begrudge him, he works hard and so does she. "What movie do you want to watch?" He's already digging for his laptop and sweats, he's down to a tee, tossing her the one she slept in.

There's a part of Emma that thinks she should bring up all the winding trails her mind just ran, instead, she smiles and catches the love bug he's infected with. "You pick, baby." Baby, wow, she thought she only said that in her head, or when she's under him. She'd be happy if he doesn't notice. He does, and the way he looks over it makes her happier.

Hours later, after he calls down for shepherds pie and tea he says, "We should get pints'"

"I don't like beer."

"Then wine!"

"Ok, wine." They usually only had tipsy tumbles at the party. This was intentional; on her part at least, she liked to remember their limited time together so she could live off it all year. "I feel like I need to warn you, wine makes me feel sexy."

"Oh, oh no, what will I do?" He put his hand to his heart then to his head and reclined in an arch that belied his 'I don't dance' claims. Maybe not yet, but one day he'd be a dancer. "I know you will launch an assault on my virtue!" He stuck his tongue to the cover of his smirking mouth. She'd take that invitation.

"Yeah. I should make a start on that job now!" She advances on him with all the moves she put into being the best footballer in sixth form. Harry runs from her, but the room is small and cozy and cluttered, so he quickly tumbles over. He groans from the floor.

"Oh, are you hurt babe?" She's on her knees looking his perfect face over for forming bruises when he laughs and pulls her down on top of him.

"Nope, fine and dandy!"

"Dandy is right!" She secretly loved his evolving look. But had to take him down a few pegs regularly.

"Heeey! I had to call a foul, you are way faster than you look!"

"How does one look fast?" She's talking, he's kissing.

"When you look like you have moves," he moved his eyebrows in illustration, "and I'm like a newborn gazelle."

"Bullshit, I think you just get distracted."

He blinked and just stared for a moment. "Nobody's ever said that but my mum." Emma wasn't sure what that meant, but it meant something. The deep kiss and eye contact said so. As did his downshift.

They'd been on 4th gear headed to 5th when she'd started joking. Now he was back to third and decelerating.

"Cmon," he broke the kiss to say and came back like her lips were honey to his bee. It took him three lip locks to get to the next words. "Let's go get cozy and watch something."

She barely remembers the movie he put on. But she'll always remember him narrating it in her ear and his comment on the aesthetic.

"Do you like the costumes and set design or the actual plot?" She tilted her head back to ask and found her lips had the same magnets in them his had earlier. Must be contagious like his glee for snow days.

"Both, but I guess ideally they are equally great, but I'd say the latter in this case."

"You know, pop star, for a boy who left school early, you're awfully cerebral." She meant this as a compliment.

He blushed and gave her a shy smile. "Nah, I'm a lad."

There was something about the way he said it, like this was one of those beliefs everyone had about themselves that they didn't really share, but affected them.

Emma climbed up over him. "Hey, you're not allowed to put yourself down around me, ok?"

"Being a lad isn't necessarily a bad thing." That rang true, he believed that.

"Yeah, I agree with you. But you aren't just a lad Harry."

He looks askance for a second. "I mean, I'm not like, a genius or anything," he nudged her, "not like some people."

"I'm not a genius." He made a face. "I'm not. I'm smart, but more than that I'm dedicated, and you obviously are as well. You work really hard Harry, and you make people really happy. You make great music. You know that, right? That what you do has merit? That it matters?"

"I'm not saving the planet." He looked deeply at her.

"Neither am I." He scoffed. "No, really. I'm just trying to do what I can to make things a little better. And you are too."

"Yeah, but I want to do more, like more good."

"And you will, you do know you're like 21 right." Sometimes she needed this reminder too. He was even younger than her.

"Not quite."

"Stop reminding me I'm older than you." She ruffled his hair.

"Older and wiser."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Styles."

Harry reversed their positions, she was under him, looming blue and beautiful above her. "I dunno, I like my geography."

The kisses he was applying to her collarbone were pretty compelling.

"I guess I'd have to see a little more flattery," she sighed.

"I think you're the smartest girl I've ever met." That kiss was right below her ear.

She made an encouraging sound.

"I love the color of your eyes when there is soft light behind you." That kiss was to the same spot on the other side. It was also very specific.

"I miss you and the way you smell 11 months out of the year." That one was on the hollow at the base of her throat.

"If I could, I'd just follow you from Amsterdam to Iceland so that I got to wake up to you every morning." That one she felt required a follow up, but that kiss was on her mouth and escalated to all of the other positions his held.

It wasn't until the next morning, when they we're still snowbound, cozy, and together that she thought to say, "You know you could do anything you wanted, be anything you wanted. You're limitless, Harry."

She didn't tell him she'd also love if he chose to follow her between her school and her hoped for career. Just like she hoped he would never tell her he wanted her to follow him on tour. It was too limited.

She wished they were limitless together instead of on the divergent roads they'd chosen.