#some thoughts from your local insomniac

[raaorqtpbpdy]

God Only Knows

Everyone knows AU, but Wes doesn't know that everyone knows, and neither does Danny, because even though everyone knows, everyone also knows better than to acknowledge it.

For the prompts:

Everyone knows the connection between Danny Fenton and Phantom. To keep their town's hero safe, everyone pretends to be oblivious. Only this one kid doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. [From @vigilant-insomniac], and It's like Santa, the students of Casper High think. You know he's fake, just your parents playing pretend, and if Danny wants to play human, well. Who are they to ruin the fantasy? [From @uniasus]

This is a take on Wes I've never written before, despite having written quite a few Wes fics, and it was a lot of fun, I hope you like it : )

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for mentioned injuries, threats, and implied bullying]

Danny Fenton was dead. Everyone knew that.

After an accident in his parents' lab, he'd been rushed to the hospital and declared dead on arrival. He had an obituary in the paper, a grave. His death had even been announced over Casper High's PA system, and there had been a moment of silence, and all the science classes had done lessons on lab safety so that what had happened to him might not happen to anyone else.

Then, a couple weeks later, Danny Fenton was back at school like nothing had happened. Hanging out with his loser friends, going to classes, eating at Nasty Burger. Like he was still a regular kid. Except that beakers slipped through his fingers, and he kept walking through vending machines, and falling through the floor. Sometimes all or part of him would turn invisible, or he'd start floating a few inches off the floor and his friends had to pull him back down to earth.

Every time, he would look around in a panic, like he was hoping no one saw, and every time, those who had seen pretended they hadn't. It was Santa Claus, the Casper students reasoned. You knew he was fake, just your parents playing pretend, but it made them happy when you pretended with them. If Danny wanted to play human, well... who were they to ruin the fantasy.

Besides, no one wanted to be the one to remind him that he'd died.

Then the school was attacked by a ghost, and another ghost appeared to stop her. It was the ghost of a 14-year-old boy, wearing a Fenton Works jumpsuit. There was no mistaking that Danny Fenton, the dead kid attending their school, was also the dead kid protecting it.

But after a couple of days, it was clear that Danny himself still thought it was a secret, so everyone else silently agreed to let him keep thinking that. He'd been through a lot, and they didn't need to make it harder on him. Even Dash never brought it up—and he kept bullying Danny, for being week and unpopular, just to keep up the illusion that nothing had changed.

When out-of-towners started poking around, asking questions, everyone kept the secret. The strangers were clearly ill-intentioned, wanting to capture Danny for some reward. Even if he was deluding himself about still being alive, Danny was a good kid who protected the town. The least the locals could do as thanks was act oblivious to keep him safe. They were used to pretending, anyway.

Except this one kid didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

"Uh, yeah, I have some information on the ghost!" Wes called out to the Guys in White nosing around their school.

Kwan grabbed him, covering his mouth and dragging him around the corner before the Guys in White could see who'd called out to them. He felt something slimy on the palm of his hand and let go of Wes with a noise of disgust.

"What the hell!" Wes demanded.

"Did you just lick me?" Kwan asked, wiping his hand off on his jeans. "Gross!"

"Dude, you dragged me down the hallway! What gives."

"You were gonna spill to the Guys in White. You can't do that!"

"Just 'cause no one around here believes me, I'm just supposed to give up?" Wes frowned, crossing his skinny, freckled arms over his chest. "Somebody has to know that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, I mean come on, it's obvious!"

"But if you tell the Guys in White, even if they don't believe you, they'll investigate him, and who knows what they'll do," Kwan pointed out. "Hasn't Danny been through enough? I mean," Kwan glanced around and lowered his voice before adding, "he died. Do you really want to make things harder on him after that? Don't you think he deserves a break?"

"Exactly," Wes hissed. "He died. He's a ghost. Ghosts are bad—and why are we whispering?" he added at a normal volume.

"You know that's not true," Kwan argued, keeping his voice low, despite Wes' complaint. "Phantom protects us."

"From ghosts that come through a portal he opened!"

Kwan flinched. Saying Danny had opened the portal was kind of misrepresenting the reality of the situation. Sam and Tucker had reluctantly told the story of Danny's death in the weeks he was gone, and it had been spread around pretty thoroughly before he came back. Everyone at school knew that he'd stepped into that portal and been completely fried. The portal turning on wasn't the part most people focused on when it was always immediately followed by 'while Danny was inside it'.

"I don't think you can blame him for that," Kwan said. "It was an accident."

"One that has yet to be corrected," Wes replied, his anger not fading. "Him fighting the ghosts doesn't stop them from attacking. If he really wanted to protect the town, he'd destroy the portal and stay in the Ghost Zone."

"What about the Fentons?"

"Who cares if the Fentons lose their precious portal when it's endangering thousands of lives!?"

"And you don't care if they lose their son, either?" Kwan demanded.

"So you do believe me!"

"You're a dick, Weston." He'd never called anyone a dick before in his life, but it seemed to apply here. "I don't care what you think, but if you try to hawk your theories on any of the ghost hunters around town, I'll make you regret it, and I'll bring friends, too. I've got a lot of them."

To drive home his point, Kwan shoved Wes against the lockers and glared before walking away. Gosh, that was so aggressive. Kwan hoped it had been okay. He didn't like doing it—he didn't even know if his face could hold that expression long enough to intimidate anyone—but if it kept Danny safe, that was what mattered.

At least Dash would probably be proud of him for it. Dash was always saying he needed to be more assertive to people couldn't push him around. Metaphorically, of course. Literally, Kwan was six feet tall and 190 pounds, even as a freshman, so there weren't many people who could physically push him around as it was. He didn't join the football team for no reason.

Thankfully, it did seem to work. Kwan had his friends—and he did indeed have a lot of friends, since he was a very friendly and likable guy—keep an eye on Wes until the outside ghost hunters declared the hunt a bust and skipped town. He didn't know whether Wes had noticed or not, but either way, he hadn't tried to expose Danny to them again.

Too bad that didn't last. A few weeks later, Wes went directly to the Fentons.

"No one else will believe me, but your son is a ghost!" Wes told them. "He's Danny Phantom!"

Jack and Maddie both froze. They knew.

They knew, and they had both agreed to pretend they didn't. They shot at Phantom, always aiming a mile wide, and shouted threats, and loudly declared their hatred for ghosts. They knew how it made Danny feel, but they also knew he still loved them. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their son around, and they feared that if he were ever to tell them he was a ghost, it would be because he was moving on and they'd never see him again.

"Why... that's ridiculous, my boy!" Jack declared, a slight waver in his booming voice. "Our son can't be a ghost!"

"But it's true!" Wes insisted.

"Don't be silly!" Maddie cut him off before he could start listing evidence. She knew all the evidence. "I think we'd know if there was a ghost living under our own roof."

"But—"

"You should keep your utterly ridiculous theories to yourself, because you sound absurd," Maddie said. "Now, if you don't mind, my husband and I have very important ghost hunting to get to. Don't you have homework to do or something?"

Wes growled and clenched his fists in frustration but left them alone nonetheless. Clearly, he wasn't getting anywhere with him. And he wasn't getting anywhere at school, to the point where Danny had stopped getting anxious and had started openly antagonizing him about it. Didn't anyone else in Amity Park have eyes, he wondered.

But in truth, he was the one not seeing, because he didn't see that everyone else was on the same page about Danny being a ghost, and he was the one being left behind.

"Hey, Wes-toenail!"

Wes rolled his eyes as Dash stormed up to him with a disappointed-looking Kwan in tow.

"Jazz Fenton told Sam Manson, who told Kwan, who told me, that you tried to tell Fenton's parents about your stupid conspiracy theory!" Dash sneered at him.

"It's not a conspiracy theory," Wes said. "There would have to be more than just one person involved for it to be a conspiracy theory. A conspiracy theory would be like if I claimed everyone in town was working together to hide the fact that Fenton is Phantom," he was too busy rolling his eyes again to notice the look Kwan and Dash gave each other, "but you're not, you're all just a bunch of sheep."

"And you're a... a..." Dash struggled, grasping around his thick head for a comeback.

"A blackberry bramble!" Kwan finished for him.

"A blackberry bramble!" Dash repeated firmly, then turned to Kwan with a confused look. "A blackberry bramble?" he repeated again, this time questioningly.

"Prickly, invasive, and impossible to get rid of," Kwan explained. "Sam and I also talked about her garden."

"Oh, that's nice," Dash then turned back to Wes, hardened his expression and said. "You're like a blackberry bramble, and no one wants you around."

Wes raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Why do you even care? I thought you hated Fenton."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want him dead again," Dash pointed out. "His parents are ghost hunters, and they're always shooting at Phantom. What do you think they might do to Danny if they actually believed your bullshit theory?"

"Get rid of him! Because he's a ghost! You know, the creatures constantly attacking our town and putting us all in danger?"

"The fact that you actually seem to believe that is why nobody at school likes you," Dash told him plainly. "That, and your general annoyingness."

"Why do you all care so much about protecting a loser like Danny Fenton?!" Wes shouted, loudly enough that it attracted the attention of everyone else in the hallway not already listening, and he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "So he died, so what? It's the fact that he's still around that's the problem. Everyone seems to agree that they want ghosts gone until I bring up Phantom. A ghost is a ghost is a ghost, and all ghosts are dangerous, even the quote-unquote 'good ones.'"

He was breathing heavily when he finished his outburst, and suddenly aware of at least a dozen sets of eyes on him.

"That's enough, Wes," Kwan said after a beat. "Danny hasn't done anything to you, or anyone, and it's not fair for you to keep doing this, trying to expose him or... or whatever it is you're trying to do. You'd better cut it out. If this is a joke, no one's laughing, and if you're serious, then you're trying to take a real person away from his friends and family because of your own biases, and that's messed up, dude."

"Yeah!" someone down the hallway piped up. Micah, Wes thought her name was. She'd spit on his shoes when he tried to convince her of his theory.

"Enough is enough!" her friend agreed.

"You lay off Danny, he's already been through it this year already!"

Soon enough, every student in the hallway was chiming in their agreement, and Wes scanned the crowd, mouth agape, offended and outraged. When he turned back to Dash and Kwan, they both wore hard expressions. It looked weird on Kwan's usually jovial face, but it was clear they meant business.

"Whatever," Wes grumbled. He grabbed his math book out of his locker and slammed the door shut with a metallic bang. "You've made your point. I'll stop."

"Will you actually?" Dash insisted, raising a skeptical brow. "Or are you just saying that to get us off your back?"

"I will," Wes confirmed. "I don't need the entire football team and then some making my life a living hell. As long as Fenton keeps his distance from me, I'll do the same for him."

The warning was passed from Kwan, to Sam, to Danny, and in short order, Danny and Wes started avoiding each other. They barely so much as crossed paths anymore. Wes, begrudgingly, stopped trying to expose Danny, and Danny stopped teasing him for his failures, and it finally seemed like Amity Park's ghostly hero could go on protecting the town in peace.

But things weren't always what they seemed, and one day, there was a fight. At first, it seemed like a standard ghost fight, Danny Phantom versus some vampire-looking asshole.

Based on the banter, it sounded like this wasn't their first encounter with each other, so the civilians of Amity Park tried their best to stay out of the way and let Danny do his thing. Parents calling their kids inside, the group of teens passing by ducked into the alley, the one riding the opposite way on his skateboard crossed the street to hide with them, safety in numbers and all that.

Then the tide of battle turned, and all of the sudden, Danny was losing, badly. The enemy ghost had started coming at him with powerful blasts that broke through his defenses and left him reeling. Danny howled as he hit the street, hard, and in a flash of white light, his appearance changed from hero to dweeb, and regular old Danny Fenton laid unconscious in the road.

"You can never truly best me, Daniel," the enemy ghost said, but he didn't have time to monologue.

The teens in the alleyway had a plan, and they were coming to the rescue.

Sam Manson somersaulted into the street, Fenton Wrist Ray™ already armed and at the ready, and she laid down cover fire at the enemy ghost while Dash and Kwan ran out to grab Danny and drag him to the alleyway where they'd been taking cover.

"Guess you can't tell me I'm crazy now," Wes said, smirking triumphantly as the two jocks put Danny down gently on the ground, propping his head up on Paulina's folded up jacket. "We all saw him turn into Fenton, that's proof."

"Will you shut up, Wes?" Paulina snapped while Star checked Danny over, trying to assess his injuries. "We knew that already."

"What do you mean you knew?"

"Everyone knew, the whole time," Paulina reiterated with a derogatory scowl. "It's like, super obvious."

"Then why did you all treat me like I was crazy?" Wes demanded.

"Because you are," Star said. "Not 'cause you think he's a ghost—because, like, duh—but 'cause you kept trying to tell everyone. Some things should stay secret you moron."

"Why you even wanted to constantly remind the dead kid that he's dead, I'll never know," Paulina added.

"Plus, you constantly trying to expose him was putting him in danger," Kwan said. "Phantom is a hero, and you were trying to get him killed."

"He's already dead!"

"Yeah, we know," Sam jeered at him as she returned to their cover. "Everyone knows. But you're the only person in the whole town who's being a dick about it!"

"Hey, that's the same thing I told him a couple months ago!" Kwan told her, delighted. "I never called someone a dick before, but I did, 'cause he was being one."

"Good job calling him out, Kwan," Sam said, sounding genuinely satisfied. "It's good to hear that you're being more assertive and standing up for yourself and others."

"That's what I said, too!" Dash noted. "God, it's so weird that I actually agree with you on stuff now."

"Can we get back to the fact that you guys all knew the whole time that Fenton was a ghost and nobody thought to clue me in?" Wes said, looking around at the rest of them incredulously.

"Clue you in the Danny was a ghost?" Sam asked sardonically. "I thought you knew."

"No, that it was apparently common knowledge and you all just felt like making a fool out of me!"

"You wouldn't have looked like a fool if you'd just kept your fool mouth shut," Paulina pointed out.

"You—"

Wes was cut off when Danny groaned into wakefulness and everyone's attention instantly snapped to the ghost boy.

"Mn... ugh," Danny took a shaky breath and blinked his eyes open, quickly widening in shock when he realized how many people were leaning over him. "Uh... hello, citizens," he said, putting on a voice in the hopes they wouldn't recognize them. "Please, step back and stay away from the—"

"Danny," Sam said, "You changed."

"Huh?" He looked down at his hand and gasped. "I mean, I have an explanation for this. I was uh... being overshadowed?"

"It's okay, dude," Kwan told him. "We're not going to tell anyone. This'll be our little secret. Right, Wes?"

They all looked pointedly at the redhead, who opened his mouth to protest, and closed it again, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Yeah, okay," he relented, though his left eyebrow was nevertheless twitching in irritation. "Our secret."

"We just wanted to get you out of the line of fire before Plasmius took things too far," Sam told him. "You know I've always got your back."

"Thanks," Danny said. "All of you."

They gave him their smiles and their 'you're welcome's while Wes griped and grumbled and left the alleyway with his bike to finish riding home. Plasmius had flown off shortly after Sam started shooting at him. He was content in his victory over Phantom, and didn't feel the need to fight a powerless child like her, so the coast was clear for the rest of them to leave as well.

Sam said goodbye to Kwan so she could walk Danny home while the rest of them resumed their walk to the mall. Sam had been planning to split off before they got their anyway, she was just taking the opportunity to chat with them—mostly Kwan, whom she'd accidentally befriended during Danny's brief stint of popularity earlier in the year (his 'goth' poetry was awful, but they'd bonded over gardening and a love of animals)—since her house was on the way.

"You gonna be okay, Danny?" she asked, as they walked arm in arm so she could catch him if he stumbled. "You don't have a concussion, do you?"

"Maybe?" Danny said, squinting uncertainly. He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I always am. I'm still just amazed how lucky it was that the A-listers and Wes, of all people, were willing to keep my secret. It's gonna be all over the school, tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sam said vaguely. "Kwan's a decent guy, at least. I'm pretty sure they'll keep their word."

Danny scoffed in disbelief, but didn't voice an argument. The rest of the way to Fenton Works, the chattered about whatever topics came to mind, just to keep Danny from falling asleep in case he did have a concussion, and when Sam dropped him off at home, she held off her mournful expression until she had turned away so Danny didn't have to see it.

[edvinroyals]

Which is your favourite young royal fanfiction?

Mine is Honey and Lemon by Skamownsme4ever

Others are - bet you you'll go far, like he hung the moon and the stars, not it it's you, there all along, call me up late

Pretty much fics which make me smile non-stop cause they are so fluffy!!

Hey! I'm so happy to get another Fanfic ask!!!

I also really love Honey and Lemon, Bet You You'll Go Far, Not If It's You, There All Along and Call Me Up Late I haven't read Like He Hung The Moon and The Stars but I have added it to my list!

I am currently putting together a post of my favourite fic's from 2022 so thought I would offer you some of my favourites that fit the fluffy vibe you love here!

Bloom Where You Are Planted - By cloudymilk

Don't want to talk about how many times ao3 tells me I have read this one.

Hi Wille, I hope you’re doing well!

I hope you don’t mind but I saw sometimes you give plant advice and I think I might have killed mine

- OR -

Wille is a plant boy, Simon has a black thumb. They both run semi-popular Instas.

The Boy and the Bartender - By Spidaya

Simon is a bartender at a local bar with a sunny smile and confident attitude that hide the darker side of his life he wishes to keep hidden. Wilhelm, the prince of Sweden, is a lonely boy with too much love to give and not getting much love in return. 

After they meet at a bar in not the most Prince-Charming way, their hearts are forever intertwined with each other, but not before going through the hurt, trials, and love that come with both of their lives.

Play My Song - By Elin98

It is 12.15 am and you’re listening to Late night Vibes with Simon on The Vibe FM, 104.6. I’m your host Simon Eriksson and I will be here with you all night. So for all you night owls, insomniacs, night shift workers, let me keep you company. I promise to only play good music and that we’ll have a good time.

Wille wishes he could sleep, would give just about anything to end the sleepless nights, escape the racing thoughts that have taken over his tired mind. By accident he stumbles upon a late night radio show one night and suddenly finds himself longing for the company of a boy he's never met.

On-Campus - By spa_ghetto

At the beginning of the spring term Simon and Sara receive a letter from Hillerska, offering a room and board scholarship. Sara is ecstatic. Simon can't help feeling like he's being led straight to his death. Now they're here, non-residents upgraded to residents. When his mom asks how things are going, he lies and says they're great, and no, he's definitely not bothered by the Crown Prince of Sweden living three doors down. He's over it. All of it. Really.

It's not that Wilhelm doesn't want Simon on campus, but—well, okay, it is exactly that, actually. Despite wherever their relationship is now, he's sure they can agree on one thing: Simon shouldn't be on campus, for one reason or another. So, why is he? What happened between last semester and this one? Wilhelm is a full-time student, part-time crown prince. He barely has time to sleep, let alone figure out the new Simon Situation (though, let's be real. It's all the same Situation), but between Simon nearly getting suspended and August having secret conversations in the hall, he can't help but get involved.

He can surely get to the bottom of this; he knows Simon like the back of his hand.

At least… he thinks he does.

Can I Take Your Order? - By littlefandom

“Okay,” the boy retorts, still eyeing him a bit curiously “can I take your order then, Wille?”

Wilhelm feels the blush on his cheeks deepen upon hearing his name on the boy’s lips. He can’t seem to find his voice again, his mind going blank. Felice did him what she wanted to order, right?

The waiter must have noticed he’s struggling but he only smiles a little, almost like he’s holding back a chuckle. Which does not help Wilhelm, because if his neutral, slightly tired expression was attractive before, now he’s just… wow, Wille’s brain shuts down again."

Wilhelm and Simon meet at the pizzeria in Bjärstad.

Arrhythmia - By pysanky

“Do you have the patient file for 223?” 

Simon rifled through his papers and found it, extending the file out toward Wilhelm, who took it but remained there, lingering. Madison and Simon both looked at him, waiting. 

Wilhelm cleared his throat again, opening his mouth and closing it before opening it again, but then someone was calling for him and he was gone, shoes squeaking against the linoleum. Simon sighed when he looked around the edge of the station and realized that the other was wearing Crocs. 

(or: in which Simon and Wilhelm work together as medical residents at the same hospital)

That's What I Really Want - By yr_bb

“How do you want to do this?” Simon asked. “I know you need someone to go to this fundraiser... I need someone to come with me to my parents’ anniversary party... I’d like to propose that we pretend that this—” Wilhelm gestured between them, “is a thing until at least then.” They sipped their coffees in silence for a moment. Simon hoped he was imagining the tension.

Inspired by 'Boyfriend Material' by Alexis Hall, with characters from Young Royals. A classic slow burn fake boyfriends story with plenty of soft boys, angst and fluff. 

I Never Knew Myself WIP - By demeterfics

Alex meets Wilhelm at a coffee shop in London, Alex inserts himself into Wille's life. Three years later, they're best friends living in a shared flat. Alex goes through some shit, Wille goes through some shit. Alex meets Henry when the weather causes him to find refuge.

Simon and his family moved to London and he doesn't exactly like it, but he finds himself a little corner of the city where he can be a barista and his sister, Sara works at a flower shop owned by Henry.

Rush Hour - By yr_bb

“This is going to sound so weird, and I swear I’m not stalking you or anything, but could I get your number?”  Simon typed, then smirked, passing him back the phone.  Wille’s face lit up. “Train Boy and a purple heart?”  “Text me when we have signal, OK?”

What happens when you bump into a cute stranger on a busy train? Pure unadulterated fluff, that's what!

You're The Cats Meow - By melsj98

Meet Simon. Simon, who is an animal-lover. Simon who works at his local shelter with his best friends Ayub and Rosh. Simon who loves what he does and takes pride in making the shelter a safe space. Simon, who wants to take care of his family while also juggling college classes, his job at the shelter, and his tentative music career. Simon who can’t afford any distractions right now and definitely is not looking for a relationship after his last few disastrous attempts. 

Enter Wille. Wille who just wants to get through college without too many problems, Wille who only really has three true friends in his life, Erik, Felice and Maddie, anyone else who says otherwise is lying. Wille who got into a minor fight, the details of why aren’t important. Wille who has a semi famous family and whose face is now plastered across magazines labeling him as “jealous” and “violent” and “attention-seeking” and all these other labels that don’t represent him at all. Wille whose mother sends him to work at an animal shelter to “clean up his image”. Wille whose life begins to change the second his eyes fall on Simon.

I'm Carrying Your Love With Me. - By Edvinroyals

This is mine so I feel like I should't add it but I am going to anyway.

Simon and Wilhelm coming back together, both knowing what they deserve. 

aka : me unable to get that photo of Omar and Edvin in the jumpers out of my head because the Simon and Wilhelm engagement photo vibes were just 10/10 and my brain had to write it down.

[nevesmose]

Sad rambling time. It turns out that if you spend years of your life being completely, desperately in love with someone in a way that you could never act on, sometimes you'll see somebody on the street that looks exactly like he might now that we're both old and suddenly start remembering every little detail all over again. Weepy story below the cut.

To quote the surprisingly deep and emotional novel of Star Wars Episode 3: this story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

Let's call him Nite Owl because someone once compared me and him to Nite Owl and Rorschach which I think is revelatory of something. Not very flattering about me I suppose but all my other nicknames at school were either serial killers or prissy female cartoon characters. We had a harsh collective sense of humour.

Anyway the incident that always sticks with me: on our last day of secondary school, as was tradition, we all fucked off early and went to the local park where somebody whipped out one of those disposable barbecues and everyone was having a fun old time.

It was also tradition to play a senior prank (my lips are sealed but it involved fish) and to wear fancy dress. I was a Ghostbuster with an inflatable backpack and he was a priest.

To give you an idea of our protagonists: me, your humble correspondent. I'm terrible at describing myself but the most flattering celebrity comparison I've ever had was to Matt Damon so I suppose imagine an introverted, depressed, insomniac Matt Damon with glasses who spent far too much time on 4chan and you're pretty much there. Main personality traits: undiagnosed autism and gifted-kid perfectionism.

Nite Owl: a tall chubby metalhead rugby player with long dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and a round face that lit up when he smiled. He was like the sun to me. We had a lot of similar interests e.g. Warhammer and just complemented each other in a way that even if there wasn't any romantic aspect we would still have been really good friends. The kind of person you just instantly feel a vibe of "we understand each other" with which is always worth treasuring no matter who or where.

Anyway, there was a big romantic aspect of it from my side at least. I never knew how he felt. But for me it was just a realisation one day, meeting his eyes during some inane conversation about whether Narnia was in the EU, that I would be so happy to just have this forever.

I treasured every bit of physical contact we ever had. He gave me a plastic Jack Daniels cocktail stirrer once and I kept it ever since. He borrowed the first Ciaphas Cain book from me and when he gave it back it smelled like him.

Christ I was pathetic about him. Still am, even just a little bit, or I wouldn't be writing this.

Looking back on it now with as much objectivity as possible, I think he was most likely a) straight and b) aware of how I felt but still enjoyed being around me and being my friend. And as sad as that is to think about, I feel like it's also kind of a testament to his character. He didn't have to do that.

But to get back to the last day of secondary school where, like I mentioned, I was a Ghostbuster and he was a priest. His priest outfit had a purple sash as part of it and while we were in the park he came over and put it around my waist and said "this is for you."

And I knew even then I was being ridiculous but in that moment it felt like a wedding ring. I was so, so happy to have something of his on me like that. So I was all twitterpated and caught up in the good vibes of the day and I thought, fuck it, I'll never have to be around any of these people again, and I decided that I would put my faith in every fucking fanfic and whatever else cliché possible and I would ask him to go for a walk with me in the trees down by the river at the bottom of the park, and I would tell him how I felt.

And even if he didn't feel the same that would still be ok in a way because I would have at least told him, I would have at least been brave enough to say it out loud after literally years of silence. At least I would have that.

So I went back over to where everyone was and looked around for him. He wasn't there, so I asked oh hey, where's Nite Owl?

And at this point I sadly need to introduce the antagonist of the story. She's only the antagonist because I'm the one telling it though. None of us was actually the bad guy here, not even her. Let's keep to the Watchmen theme and call her Silk Spectre.

It turned out that a short time earlier, Silk Spectre had gone for a walk down by the river with Nite Owl. Apparently she wanted to tell him how she felt about him and it was all very cute and sweet.

I leave it to you to imagine how I felt in that moment.

I left his sash for him somewhere he could find it and got a lift home. That would be a fitting place to end the story wouldn't it? That's how I would write it, with the last ironic twist making my actions all for nothing and the final touch of taking off his sash. Music, credits, not a dry eye in the house.

But. I started at university and tried to get over him, had the briefest of beginnings of other potential relationships. And then one day I saw him on the bus. I had the thought hammering in my head, don't do it, don't talk to him, don't start it all over again.

But I did. The idea of being near him again was too much to give up on. It turned out that he had taken a gap year before going to uni himself. He and Silk Spectre were still together (sensation of dissolving in my own upwelling stomach acid) but he had the decency not to mention her much and we were able to pick up our friendship as though no time at all had passed.

I tried very hard to be ok with it not having any prospects of developing further. That was a poor decision on my part and I think he understood better than I did how unhealthy it was. We drifted apart over the next year or so, and my last contact with him was one New Year's Eve feeling very lonely and depressed I texted him "happy new year x" and he never replied.

So that was that. Like I said, looking back on it I think he knew what the situation was and was doing his best to be a good person about it, which wasn't something I had thought of before I wrote it all out like this. For what it's worth I really do hope he's happy now.

They say "if only" is the worst kind of regret but I nurture a particular loathing for "even though" because even though I tried to do everything right it still didn't work. Sometimes that's just the way it goes.

[azurexsnake]

💔🛡🎤✈️ 💤 for you and Vash!!

Oh geez, I wasn't expecting all that. Here we go~

🎤: Describe your f/o’s voice

This is honestly so vague. Like in bed? Normally? How would I describe Vash's voice... hmmmm.... well, the voice in my head is his JP VA, in a literal sense. But his voice as it is, hmm..... It's goofy and sweet at its core, just like him. Soft. He's a very thoughtful person, sometimes too much so for his own good, as we all know. But you really get a sense for it if you listen to him talk for an extended period of time, just how deep that softness goes. And how much hurt there is beneath that as well. He makes me cry a lot without meaning to. Part of being an empath a little bit lol He has firmer moments, too, where he's more assertive. Mostly when he's being protective, where his voice deepens down. When he whispers, too. That does things to me. It's somehow... idk how to say it, but it's hot. Like really, really attractive. Like makes me weak in my knees. He knows it. I know he knows it. But he doesn't abuse it and I wish he would more cuz.... he sounds really good when he whispers, or just speaks quietly.

💤: Do you sleep together? If so, describe your sleeping positions and patterns (E.g. who steals the blankets, are either of you insomniacs, etc.)

I'm the night owl and Vash is a restless sleeper. Any little thing and he pops right up, like he's always got one eye and one ear open. I end up waking him a lot and I feel bad cuz he deserves his rest. I only crawl into bed when I'm really ready to sleep then so we can actually get some shut-eye together, otherwise I'm off doing my own thing and letting him snooze on his own so I only have to wake him up once. He's thankfully not very warm-bodied cuz I produce enough heat for the both of us tbh. We usually end up cuddling each other facing forward on our sides and get all tangled up that way. We don't do a lot of spooning honestly. Once in a blue moon. Or he'll sleep on his back and I'm on his chest. I can't sleep on my back- usually, we only end up just cuddling that way, not sleeping, but on the off chance it happens and I do fall asleep, Vash takes full advantage of making a pillow out of me. And honestly? Fair. It is honestly a lot easier to fall asleep that way with his weight on top of me. It's comforting.

🛩: Where would the two of you go on your honeymoon?

On Noman's Land? Ship 3, but to make it my permanent home, cuz it's much safer, and Vash wants me to be as safe as possible. In a modern au, somewhere tropical, cuz I think he'd appreciate it and I'm not picky tbh. Even though he makes a huge deal about being the one to choose cuz he wants me to be 10000000% satisfied in every way possible, but like, I really just don't care so long as I get to be there with him. So I make him decide on at least a general locale. I think Fiji, so we can island hop and make a stop in New Zealand for a bit cuz I have always wanted to go. Compromise, see? He's happy with that.

🛡: Who’s the more protective one?

I want to say me, but def him. Vash is more physically protective, cuz I am just factually weaker than he is. He'll always insert himself between me and things he doesn't like. There's never a moment I don't feel safe with him, and I kinda wish that was equalized a bit more but like, he's Vash the Stampede ;w;

💔: Is it hard being away from each other?

It is cuz he's trouble and I worry. And it kinda ties into him being more physically capable of handling himself. Like yea, he'll probably be fine, but there's always a chance something happens, and what would I be able to do about it? Makes me nervous. At least when he's around, I can keep an eye on him, like being able to breathe normally again knowing he's safe for a change. And obviously I just miss him :< Same goes for him in that he misses me. Traveling around Noman's Land is just a little too much and he'd rather I be safe than in danger with him. But it's still not an easy choice. When you're used to being alone, and then you're not after so long, and then you go back to loneliness again, even if it's for the sake of someone you love, it's just painful.

[pottsker]

some peppermay headcanons

- pepper is usually the big spoon, but sometimes she just needs to be held and may is always happy to comply

- may is so smitten with her Hot CEO Girlfriend and thinks she's like the most powerful and strong woman ever

- may does not realize how strong pepper knows SHE is and how much pepper admires/looks up to her

- they frequently host movie nights with peter, ned, and michelle; usually they watch horror movies or comedies but sometimes they watch really stupid/campy/b-rated movies just to make fun of them and throw popcorn at the screen

- may and pepper, Supportive Lesbian Moms, always in the front row of whatever events peter has at school, going to every parent teacher conference, and generally being there for peter

- pepper and may 300% cook together. little known fact that i just decided, pepper potts is an excellent chef who definitely teaches may how to make michelin star-worthy recipes

- whenever pepper has a day off they take it to spend time together and hang out; take a bath together with bath salts/bath bombs/whatever, where they wash each other's hair and talk about whatever they want

- on those days, they definitely spend a lot of the day in bed cuddling and laughing

- both supportive of the spider-man thing, but once pepper tells may about germany and the full events ofhomecoming, they definitely keep him away from tony and train/help him themselves

- weekly date nights where they go to dinner, on a walk, to the beach, or just hang out with each other for a while

- may doing laundry as pepper sits on the dryer with a beer and tells her about her day, and then pepper folding the laundry as may perches on the counter and does the same

- imagine them adopting a dog ???? just imagine all that Content

- lots of soft kisses at all hours of the day; a morning kiss to wake pepper up, a tired kiss when she gets home from work, a sleepy kiss after may gets out of the shower, a goodnight kiss, a goodbye kiss, a hello kiss. just.... kisses

- when pepper's stressed, may braids her hair

- when may's stressed, pepper combs through her hair with her fingers and gives her shoulder rubs

- lots of casual touching; i feel like they wouldn't be huge on pda but would do things like holding hands, placing a hand on the other's lower back when moving around/behind them, upper arm squeezes when excited, etc

- i kinda hate jealousy as a trope so no jealousy here. these are two strong women who are secure in their relationship and don't worry about the other cheating or anything, but who would definitely protect the other against unwanted advances from creeps in public places

[br-kker]

Y'all, I got some headcannons I just thought about: Being an insomniac and dating Hitoshi Shinsou!

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinsou X Reader (romantic, gender-neutral).

Media: My Hero Academia.

Content and/or Warnings: Insomnia (I don't know if that's even a warning), caffeine, probably crackhead me.

Ok, so you're an insomniac. Let's go over some things first.

There's multiple forms of insomnia: One that can last less than a week, one that can last over a week, one that lasts a long time, etc. but the jist is you have trouble going to sleep and you're tired.

So dark eye circles galore!

Welcome to the club.

Hitoshi is no stranger to any of this.

I mean, have you seen his eyes? Sleep? Don't know her.

Late night raid at the 7/11? Late night raid at the 7/11.

At least three times a week you two will go to a local gas station and get food, caffeine, whatever.

So at this point, the cashier knows your guys' names.

Late night walks hand in hand.

What're you talking about? I dunno.

If you two decide not to go out, then it's caffeine at home.

I feel like Shinsou would drink Monster so there's no shortage of energy drinks.

Also, so much damn coffee. Like, you guys might as well be running a coffee shop with the amount of coffee you both have.

I'm headcannoning this now: Hitoshi drinks all types of coffee.

I think he would mainly stick with black coffee.

He knows what you like, so depending on how you're doing he'll make coffee for you.

The end result is the same regardless of how you get the means of caffeine: You both chill in bed with some form of caffiene.

LED lights? I'm feeling blue. Music? Playing softly on a speaker. You and Hitoshi? Tired. Hotel? Trivago.

You guys keep yourselves occupied 70% of the time by watching a movie/show, playing video games, or by doing other sorts of activities.

The other 30% is cuddling with each other.

Like, you and Hitoshi are about as close as possible to each other and are still trying to get closer.

I imagine how you guys cuddle is your head buried in his chest while either his chin rests utop your head or his face is buried in your hair.

Interlocked hands? Interlocked hands.

You guys talk quietly amongst yourselves about anything and everything, until maybe one of you guys go to sleep c:

(A/N: Howdy! I just wanna say happy pride month to all you LGBTQ+ members out there! I got this idea when one day I woke up and was very tired, so here you go! I have been on a whole ass Shinsou kick, like oh my god I'm in LOVE with that sleep-deprived boy! This wasn't anything too deep, but just something that I thought would be dope to write. If I don't post anything from now until the 29th, then expect Denki Kaminari's birthday headcannons!

Signing off for now,

-Libby)

[wimble-warcrime]

Synopsis: you and your crew take a break and celebrate during a festival

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Zoro x reader

Genre: fluff

Other: gn reader, lots of descriptive stuff (I got carried away), this doesn't conform to any kind of plot line.

A/N: My contribution to the @onepiece-reader-exchange for @some-piece, I hope you enjoy!! I used two of the three prompts cause I couldn't decide on one

Travelling with a well known pirate crew had its ups and downs; being unable to go places with a large government presence or having other crews constantly challenging you for notoriety were some of the downs.

But islands and port towns and cities with no outward hostility towards pirates were one of the perks, especially ones with such rich history and culture as the one you were docking on now, are one of them. Being able to experience the world with your own eyes, and not from the low quality photographs and articles in the paper, were another.

Your small crew of 11 were preparing to disembark on their own to explore, with Brook and Franky being tasked to stay behind to watch the ship. Nami, Chopper and Robin were going to do some shopping, Sanji and Usopp were going to look at food markets and food vendor stalls, Luffy had taken off long before then.

You were going off to explore and investigate the local festivities and traditions. The green haired swordsman tasked himself with accompanying you, claiming something along the lines of you being able to find good dispensaries as an excuse. Everyone else, well maybe not you and your captain, could tell he was crushing on you. You had simply nodded at this, just content to have some company.

…

You two found yourselves in the city centre, after climbing many well worn sandstone stairs. The city centre was beautiful; buildings built from sandstone and terracotta haphazardly stacked upon one another, braced by wooden pillars. 

The earth tones of the walls contrasted beautifully with the bright colours of the tiled roofed and walkways; reds, oranges and blues blending seamlessly with a smattering of green plants and trees accenting the alcoves and balconies. The city centre was a large circular open space, the sides lined with vendors hidden in the shade of the houses. Sandstone benches and a large stained glass water fountain in the centre broke up the worn down lacquered tiles that you stood on. 

With the way the sun was at its peak, the stained glass fountain scattered its iridescent rainbow light across the open space, catching on the ribbons and flags strung between the houses.

Your breath caught in your throat at this; it was like a dream. This hidden gem of island had more to offer than just its plentiful and colored beauty though; a festival was happening tonight, the biggest one to happen in 50 years.

The island and its inhabitants every year, got together to celebrate their summer solstice, with food and drink and dancing. But tonight was also the planetary alignment festival or as the locals called it “Halbanoury itoek.” It translates loosely to ‘eve of the 9 moons’. 

Of course after finding this out, you pulled your green haired companion along to inspect more of the traditional customs that came along with such a boisterous and timeless celebration. He only went along somewhat willingly with the promise of alcoholic beverages at the festival.

The locals informed you of a boutique where you would find customary hand made robes for the festival. There you also found, “Bepo!”

The marimo was unprepared for you sudden excited outburst, the comfortable silence being disrupted. The 7ft tall mass of white fur whirled around to find you hurling yourself into his chest. You were practically absorbed by the fluff on his stomach. He squealed in surprise and happiness.

“What are you doing here?” Zoro was the first to speak up. His tone held subtle animosity, knowing that wherever the bear was, the insomniac of a surgeon was sure to follow. He was perturbed at the thought of the doctor flirting with you like he usually did. He hated the thought of not having your attention, let alone it being on another swordsman.

While you and the bear chatted excitedly about your recent adventures, playing catchup, the one eyed swordsman studied the surrounding area for what he deemed a threat to his crewmate; the doctor. Standing on the other side of the large tiled circle, speaking to his other crewmates. Nami and Robin seemed to have already been to the boutique he was currently standing in front of, seeing their garments closely resembling the colourful robes hanging in the displays of the shopfront. They noticed the three of you, waving as they walked leisurely over to where Zoro stood.

You were being pulled into the boutique by a stout old woman, as this happened. Being ushered inside the cool building, your eyes took a minute to adjust to the sudden brightness or lack thereof. The walls and floor were all very different from the dark terracotta outside; inside there was dark wood lining the floors, with old persian carpets covering most of it. The walls were lined with so many bolts of fabric and garments that you could hardly see the actual structure. The light were dim oil lamps, likely on their last legs, and the whole place smelled like burning sandalwood incense and sweet tea leaves.

The old ladies' hands curled around your shoulder and arm pulling you into another room. You were bombarded with coloured fabrics; dyed linen and damask which would be measured and made into your festival robes. They, the old woman and her young fresh faced assistant decided on a deep rich purple linen for the main robe, with a gold and turmeric orange damask sash. 

The robe, an ankle length and shapeless dress, would have a leather belt in the same colour as the sash to accentuate your waist, and tassels along the bottom edges and sleeves. About a half hour after being measured, you were looking around the store when you were again whisked away to the same back room as before, this time with the finished piece. Very quickly done, but after centuries of this kind of service, said trade would be perfected. You were dressed; the rich purple robe felt nice and light on your skin, and the sash was wrapped around your left shoulder and arm, and secured into place with the leather belt.

You donned a pair of strappy leather sandals at the request of the assistant, and with a gold bracelet and chain necklace, you were deemed ready for the festival. The traditional robes, as you had found out from the old lady, were to be mostly colours of the night sky, with colours of the sun to accent them; this showed support for their sun god. Only priests and kings could wear the colours of the sun on this day. Their robes would be much older and more intricate; the citizens' robes were modified versions of these formal robes.

You exited the shop, squinting briefly at the sudden sunlight blinding you. As your eyes adjusted, your sword wielding admirers took this chance to take in your transformation. You looked stunning. Robin approached with a hair ornament, taking whatever longer parts of your hair she could and twisting and clipping the ornament into place. It was a gold plated bird, with its wings open in flight. Its tail feathers came up in a twisty fashion, mimicking fire almost. The eyes were a native gemstone; an opalish stone with threads of iridescent colours running through it.

“There, now you blend in with the locals.” one of the highest compliments you ever received from the archeologist. Her robes were a similar rich purple, but more like a deep amethyst. Her sash and belt were bronze and russet. Nami’s robes were a lighter blue, with copper and red accents. They both looked very beautiful. 

You turned to your companion and the newest arrival; “Are you two going to get robes too?” Zoro looked about ready to die for some odd reason, standing next to what you now saw was an already robed Trafalgar Law. 

“Of course you’re already wearing some Law. Trying to do some recon?” A playful jab at his known and bad attempts at blending in before. He frowned at this, “No, Y/N-ya.” He went on to explain what he was doing here, even though you hadn’t asked. It was still a welcomed tidbit of knowledge, to know that he got a little blushy and flustered when he made eye contact with you.

Chopper was next to get his robes, returning from the shop with a child sized light blue robe, similar to Nami’s, and a gold sash. The six of you made your way around town, with the girls stopping to look into some stores every now and then, sometimes dragging you and Chopper along. Law and Zoro bickered the whole way, constantly vying for your attention on a certain topic; could they be more obvious?

Apparently not, seeing as you mostly brushed them off unless they were talking about the festival. You rambled on when the conversation turned around, talking about how cool the planetary alignment was, and which constellation would be visible. The two of them shut up when this happened, trained on every word, every movement of your mouth as you spoke animatedly about the topic of space and astronomy. You enjoyed the attention you got from the swordsmen, basking in the glow of appreciation for your words.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, your small group had made it to a small square of open space, this time with a lush floral garden in the centre of the tiled space. People were starting to come out of their homes, carrying lanterns and lighting them, filling up the darkening streets with sweet golden light. 

You followed them through the winding streets, coming to a clearing. It dipped down in the middle, with large slopping paved steps that acted as seats. In the centre farther back, stood several large stones, placed precariously in a fashion that mimicked the arches of the houses in the city. An altar sat before the stones, large and sculpted from the same sandstone as everything else. It was painted in bright swirls of yellows and oranges, which bled into the blue and teal tiles decorating the flat bottom of the clearing. 

People lined the sloping steps, holding lanterns of all sizes. They all stood and watched as the sun set, music playing in the background. You found yourself tucked in between the two men, syphoning from their body heat as the temperature lowered with the sun, your knuckles grazed theirs, as you stood.

By the time the sun set, you had started to shiver, the thin robes not enough to keep you warm. As the rest of the locals filed out of the clearing and into the city streets, the smell of food and alcohol hit you. You managed to snag a spot in a grassy alcove, with Chopper and Robin keeping it occupied while the rest went off in search of food. The cheers and laughter of people surrounded you, and paired with the golden glow of the lanterns, made for a warm and welcoming environment.

You followed Law to a food stall, one that hosted a variety of foods, including his least favourite. You giggled at his curled lip and scrunched nose when he eyed the sandwiches. You grabbed a few for Chopper, knowing he liked these kinds specifically, and teasing Law by trying to feed him the bread. His reaction only served to make you laugh harder. You continued, finally finding a food stall that hosted food up to Law’s standards. You were still laughing by the time you got there, this time for a different reason.

Zoro was also there, for the sake. He frowned when he saw your smiling face next to Law, upset that he wasn't the one to have caused it. The two of them bickered over nothing, while you patronised another stall. Finally deciding you had enough food for the group, you returned, leaving the two idiots behind.

The place you left Robin and Chopper was now occupied with the rest of your crew, happily drinking, eating and talking the night away. Zoro was lounging on his side, sipping on some mystery alcohol, while Law was being harassed by your captain.

You took up a spot beside the marimo, setting down the food you bought and getting comfy.

To you surprise, he asked you to explain to him the significance of this festival, and why everyone was talking about the sky. You launched into a lengthy explanation after a moment of shock.

The rest of the crew listened in to your words, quieting down as you told them the myths and science behind the phenomenon.

All Rights Reserved

[pascalpanic]

The Graveyard Shift (Frankie Morales x gn!reader)

Summary: Frankie works overnight shifts at the local mechanic. Tonight, both of you are awake at a late hour.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, food and eating, talk of not being able to sleep, otherwise fluff

A/N: this idea has been in my head all week I had to! Hope you like it :)

Frankie may be a real insomniac, but tonight you’re feeling like he might have rubbed off on you. Your bed is normally your favorite place, your haven and escape from life. It’s a place to rest and cuddle your teddy bear of a boyfriend, where you can close your eyes and let go of reality.  Unfortunately, that glorious disconnect from reality isn’t finding you tonight. You toss and turn in your bed for what feels like hours. Who knows how long it really is?

You try laying on your side. On your back. On your stomach. Legs sprawled out, with no Frankie in the bed to occupy your space. Still, nothing is comfortable. You’re cold without the blankets and hot with them on. The pillows are flat or too squishy. Nothing works.

Frankie’s on the night shift tonight, leaving your bed empty enough for you to toss and turn. Your boyfriend works as a mechanic at a local 24-hour garage, and every week or so he takes the overnight shift. It’s just part of the job. Of course, you don’t mind; he does what he has to. The only downside is the chill in your bed where Frankie’s warm body usually lies.

You try to avoid your phone, checking your alarm clock for the time rather than looking at the blue light and messing up any more chances you have at sleep. But then an hour progresses, and another, and now it’s 1:20 in the morning and sleep is nowhere to be found. You give in and check your phone, sighing.

Frankie can’t possibly be busy. The shop rarely ever gets a car after the sun sets, but it’s worth it to be the only shop in the area open at night. It means more business when someone’s in desperate need. You know he’s awake, and the odds of a car being in the shop now are slim. Maybe talking with him will help you fall asleep.

Deciding to give it a shot, you call his phone. It rings for a few moments, then continues and finally you reach his voicemail, hearing his gentle voice announcing that he’ll call you right back. You frown and set it down only for the phone to ring again. It’s him.

“Hey, babe,” Frankie’s voice speaks through the phone. He sounds tired. Well, you suppose it’s natural. It’s late at night, even if Frankie is practically nocturnal. “Sorry. My hands were covered in grease so I had to wash them before I picked up. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you inform him, your voice groggy from the lack of sleep you’ve found despite hours of lying here. “Just can’t sleep. How’s work?”

You can hear a metallic clanking as he moves some tools around. “Fine. Just a usual night shift, working on this car that’s an absolute piece of shit. Got oil all over myself.”

The thought makes you smile; Frankie’s grumpy face when something goes wrong, the sigh of exasperation as those dark blue coveralls are stained dark with the car’s oil. “Good job, babe.”

Frankie is rolling his eyes on the other end. You can tell. “Really great job, yeah. How are things at home?”

“Same here. Nothing exciting. Just… can’t sleep and missing you.”

“Missing you too. God, it’s so boring here,” he groans. “I’ll finish this car pretty damn quick then have nothing to do all night. And I’m so goddamn hungry.”

Your eyes light up with an idea and you’re silent as you ponder the idea, long enough for Frankie to be concerned. “What is it?”

“Can I come visit you?” You ask him, a grin crossing your sleepy face. Your eyes are still shut from the weight they carry right now, but your face is clearly happy. “I’ll bring food.

There’s a frown on his face; that much you know for certain. “Babe, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“Francisco, for the love of God. I’m awake right now because I can’t fall asleep. Would you mind a visitor?”

He sighs but you know you’ve won. It makes you smile even wider as you clutch a pillow to your chest. He can barely get the words out before you interrupt. “Great! What are you hungry for?”

There’s another beat of quiet as he thinks. “Let’s order a pizza.”

Late night pizza: Frankie’s biggest weakness besides you. “Perfect. You put in the order and I’ll be there soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too. See you then.” Frankie hangs up.

No one else will be around. You know Frankie works these late shifts alone, so you don’t bother to put on anything nicer. Pushing back the covers and bracing for the chill, you stand and slide on a pair of shoes, allowing your pajamas to suffice.

The air is cold as you leave your shared home, and at the last second you grab one of Frankie’s flannels and wrap yourself in it. The night air is chilly around you, the dark sky contrasting the bright lights as you turn on your car. Teeth chattering from the cold, and turning down the air conditioning in your car, you set out on your route to Frankie’s workplace.

There’s no one else on the road besides a spare car or two flying past, neglecting to turn off their high beams for you. It doesn’t matter; if anything, it wakes you up more. When you finally park outside of the building, you rub your eyes desperately hard in hopes of waking yourself up more. It doesn’t really work, but you pretend it does as you pocket your keys and walk inside.

“Hi, I’m here for an oil change?” You call out teasingly into the large garage, entering through an open bay.

Frankie rolls out from beneath a car on a dolley, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Don’t even bring that up now.” He sits up, removes his earbuds, and unsnaps the top half of his coveralls, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. He removes his gloves and meets you halfway into the garage, kissing you softly and laughing as the brim of his hat bumps against your forehead. “Hey, cutie.”

“Hi,” you beam, kissing him once more. “You look hot in this. Very Danny Zuko.”

“Mhm, and this piece of shit is Greased Lightning,” he laughs and pats the hood of the car he was previously beneath. It’s ugly, brown in color and rusted with a grungy looking interior. “I don’t know why they don’t just scrap this thing. It’s not worth the money.”

Your arms remain wrapped around Frankie’s middle, resting your head against his shoulder as you admire the crappy car. “Honestly, I gotta agree,” you laugh and nudge his side so the two of you can move closer to a workbench. “Here.” You offer him the crappy blanket you brought to sit on. “Tell me the best place to set up.”

“Right here, really,” Frankie shrugs and unfolds the blanket, laying it down over the oil-stained concrete. “You get comfortable. I’ll go put on a clean pair of coveralls.” He kisses your head as you sit cross-legged on the blanket, pulling his flannel tighter around yourself. “And stop stealing my clothes!” He calls over his shoulder before retreating into the back.

“You know you love it!” You shout back with a laugh, leaning against the side of the beat-up car.

Out of nowhere, the radio in the shop starts playing. It’s loud, making you jump at the sound of the KISS song that starts blasting. With that, Frankie returns from the back, wearing a clean pair of blue coveralls with that embroidered Catfish patch over his heart. His curls peek out from beneath his cap, and he scratches at the scruff of his beard. “Way to scare the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, adjusting the volume back down from the garage control before making his way over to you. “Just thought we could use some music.”

“I guess,” you grumble, though it’s clear there’s no ill will when he sits next to you and you nuzzle into his side, sighing as he drapes his arm across your shoulders. “Didn’t have to freak me out like that though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs and kisses your head, leaning back against the car too and letting his head fall back.

No sooner do the two of you get comfortable, nestled into each other’s arms and taking a breath of relaxation, is there a knock at the glass. It’s the pizza delivery, a guy who looks exhausted, just like most normal people would be at this hour. “Be right back.” Frankie kisses your nose and stands, groaning as his joints creak and his back pops.

“Grandpa.” You tease with a grin.

“Stuff it.”

He pays for the order, giving the delivery guy a generous tip for delivering food at this hour of night. Frankie returns with the box and you shimmy in happiness as he opens the box and the smell of the pizza wafts out of the cardboard.

Frankie pulls over a rolling dolley to set the food on, at least somewhat like a table. “Your fine dining experience, my love,” he chuckles as he sets down the box and a stack of napkins next to it. He sits across from you, once again groaning as he makes himself sit cross-legged to match you.

Taking a hold of the crust, you pull out a large slice, the cheese pulling from the center of the pizza. Sighing happily, you tear the cheese apart and pile it on top of the fully-topped pizza, complete with Frankie’s go-to order. Waiting for him and humming to the song, you finally take a bite when he does.

Both of you moan in happiness, laughing a little as each realizes that the other did the same. Once your mouthful of pizza has been swallowed, you grin at Frankie and he grins back. The shop is quiet, the dull rhythm of the oldies station playing in the background. There are no words, but there’s no need for them.

Frankie finishes his slice at about the same time as you, and your hands bump as you both reach for another piece, the one loaded with toppings. “Back off, Morales,” you laugh and swat his hand away, though your hand instantly moves for another piece.

“No, you can have it,” he says, brow furrowing as you leave the piece alone.

“It’s yours. You’re the one working; you deserve it.”

He knows you inside and out. He knows that there’s no arguing when you’ve made the decision, so he takes the piece with a loving “thank you”.

It takes hardly any time for either of you to finish the second piece. Leaning back against the car, your eyes finally shut and you sigh in relaxation. You have food, you have Frankie, and finally you’re starting to get tired. “What time is it now?”

“Late. You can sleep if you want.”

“I’m not tired,” you bluff, though your body slumps against the car, head falling to the side.

Frankie just shrugs and munches on another piece. He can’t help but smile at the sight: you’re in your pajamas and his flannel, falling asleep on the floor of the mechanic shop. He certainly never expected to see such a sight, but he grins at how cute you look like this.

By the time Frankie’s third slice is gone, you’re half-asleep, barely conscious, body holding what little tension and energy you have left. Frankie just leans back, watching you, still smiling at the sight.

He can see it happen when you finally do fall asleep. The tension in your back drifts away, your body slumping down against the car. Your face, which was scrunched in concentration of trying to stay awake, finally slips into the neutrally peaceful state of sleep.

Frankie closes the pizza box, standing and bringing it to the back. He can have some more later if he’s hungry; if not, he’ll send it home with you- later. For now, you need to rest.

His knees and back scream at him as he bends down, but Frankie squats in front of you and wakes you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep. Come on, get on up and I’ll take you to the couch in the back.”

Your sleep-addled state doesn’t let you argue. You stand, still half-asleep, using Frankie’s hands to help you up. He wraps the clean side of the blanket around you, almost like a burrito, but leaves your legs enough room to walk. Holding onto your arm, so that you don’t trip thanks to your barely-opened eyes, he leads you to the break room in the back.

The old leather couch is beat up and worn, scratched and occasionally ripped from tools left in back pockets and too many years of careless plopping down after a long shift. Frankie makes sure your blanket is swaddled tightly around you and helps you lay down, chuckling at the burrito you make on the couch.

Frankie bends down and kisses your forehead. “I’ll be here if you need me. Just sleep now, babe.”

You murmur something in response, something that might’ve resembled words if you weren’t already fading out again.

Frankie doesn’t go too far, just across the room to the computer. He fires up the machine to check out the schedule for tomorrow, what the store needs to order more of, the usual. The thing that makes it better, maybe even enjoyable, are your soft snores from the couch behind him.

-

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[mellowswriting]

ambrosia

pairing || Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

summary || You’ve been having a hard week. There’s nothing Steve loves more than taking care of his girl. 

word count || 2,318

warnings || oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, soft!dom Stevie, slight degradation but like... sweetly? idk, unprotected sex, slightest breeding kink if ya squint, slight cockwarming

a/n || Hello yes it is I, the local harlot here to bless you with some smut and feel goods in a totally not self indulgent fic bc I was having a hard week.

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

It had been nearly an entire week since you had seen Steve.

Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem. Hell, there had been times where you didn’t see him for months when things got tricky on his missions. It was more the fact that in the time he had been gone, you had barely slept more than a handful of hours a night if you were lucky and the one thing that was like magic for your insomniac brain was Steve’s embrace. It all started when you accidentally stayed awake into the hours of the early morning. The muse had struck and given you the blessing of inspiration that quickly became a curse of not being unable to set aside your work until it felt just right. That wasn’t until three in the morning, of course. Then you napped the next day from the lingering sleepiness, effectively throwing your sleep schedule entirely out of whack.

Little things that usually would be a minor annoyance at best left you viscerally frustrated, each inconvenience building one upon another until you were left too overwhelmed to complete even the simplest of tasks. You managed to trudge your way through your other responsibilities, leaving you with only laundry and tidying the kitchen to concern yourself with but the pile of clean laundry that sat in front of you waiting to be folded felt impossible. Instead of feeling proud of how much you had already accomplished, you were angry with yourself for not getting more done. Tears of frustration pricked your eyes, which only made you feel even more ridiculous.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke you out of your annoyed trance of glaring at the laundry basket and you quickly wiped the tears away when you heard a familiar voice calling from the entryway, “I’m home!”

“Hey,” You said, your voice cracking slightly as you greeted Steve as he paused to lean over the couch and kiss the top of your head.

“Are you okay?” Concern tinged his voice, his eyebrows furrowed on that pretty face of his as he studied your current state. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find a way to say it without sounding pathetic but you couldn’t. Shoulders slumped, you leaned back into the cushions with a long sigh. “Oh, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I haven’t slept right in days.” You looked up at him with a pitiful look. “I haven’t slept right in days and I’m exhausted and I spent the entire day cleaning and the only thing I have left to do is this damn laundry, but I’m so tired, and -”

“Whoa, whoa,” Steve sat next to you to bring you into a firm hug, rubbing your back soothingly. If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that your lover gave the best hugs. He made you feel like the only person in the entire world. “Let me help, okay?”

“What? No,” You grumbled stubbornly. “You just got back from a mission, Steve, you need to sit and relax.”

“It was just reconnaissance.” Steve assured you. “I sat in a car with Bucky for a few days and then sat in debriefings for a few more - the last thing I need is to be sitting around on my ass.”

“Language,” You teased gently, chuckling when he gave you a glare that held no real heat.

“Go on, get your book. Relax for a little bit and let me take care of things.” Steve’s voice had an air of finality about it. You knew that he took a special kind of pride in taking care of those he loved, so you listened.

There was no denying the relief that washed over you. The warmth of his presence next to you as he methodically began folding clothes and recounting some of the antics he had to deal with thanks to Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering helped some of the tension ease from your exhausted body. Not to mention just how good he looked - so good that you could barely focus on the novel in your lap. Sure, seeing him in his uniform was its own special kind of sexy, but there was something about those soft long-sleeves and comfortable jeans that felt… domestic. The sight of him with his sleeves rolled up as he took care of your mixed laundry made something stir in your belly.

“What else needs to get done?” He asked after he took the basket upstairs and put it all away.

“Just tidying up the kitchen,” You tossed the book onto the coffee table and reached up to him with grabby hands that you knew he couldn’t resist. “Plus giving me kisses.”

Steve leaned down with a little grin, balancing himself on one knee against the couch cushions, and kissed you deeply. The little moan he gave against your lips when you eagerly accepted the teasing of his tongue made you shiver.

“You taste sweet.” He whispered as he crowded you closer into the couch, both hands cupping your face in a firm but gentle grip.

“Had strawberries before you came home.” You held him close by the collar of his shirt, probably stretching it out but you couldn’t really give a damn when he felt so good against you. “Forget cleaning, it can wait.”

“Yeah?” Steve teased, his face mere inches from yours as he gave you those hooded, hungry eyes that made your stomach flip. “Whatcha wanna do instead?”

“You.”

The cheekiness of your reply made him snatch you up, putting that super soldier strength to good use with a desperate grip on the soft flesh of your thighs. It was far from the first time he showed off his strength like that, but each time made your stomach flip in excitement just thinking about all of the things he could do to you. You hooked your ankles around his waist, your arms keeping you steady where they wrapped around his shoulders as he marched you upstairs and into your bedroom to drop you onto the mattress. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of him standing over you, the rise and fall of his chest growing faster along with the hunger in his eyes.

“You work so hard, baby. Let me reward you.” He purred, tracing your ankle where the hem of your leggings ended, and his face lit up at your desperate nodding. You whined at the familiar need tightening in your belly over the strength behind his hands as he pushed your thighs open wide, his fingertips ghosting along your covered pussy. “Such a good girl for me…”

“Steve, please…” You whimpered, desperately pulling off your leggings. This little game of his, the teasing and soft touches ramping up into hot needy fucking, was something you had no issue playing any other time, but right now you couldn’t handle the wait. Steve caught on quickly and helped pull the clothes away from your legs before he ripped his shirt over his head.

“So needy for me, huh?” Steve slowly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. “Shirt off and lay your head on the pillows. I’ll take care of ya, sweetheart.”

You scrambled to follow his command, not missing the smirk your obedience garnered. The softness of his domination was addicting, left you yearning to hear the filthy praise that dripped from his lips like the sweetest ambrosia that could cure your every ache. Steve followed you up the bed, his briefs the only scrap of clothing left on his body, but before you could admire how gorgeous he looked, his hand hooked around your ankle to yank you closer. A sharp, surprised laugh melted into a moan when he finally got his mouth on you. His tongue rolled against your clit without preamble, completely abandoning the teasing to give you exactly what you were begging for.

“Oh fffuck!” You bit out, your head falling back into the pillows as your hips jolt up, and Steve chuckled darkly as he set his forearm over your hips to hold you in place, his other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to bruise. You grabbed a handful of his short hair in retaliation, a delighted smile lighting up your face at the groan you got in return.

Fuck, he felt too good, knew your body too fucking well. You grew more and more wet with each pass of his tongue against your clit, your hips rolling in time with his ministrations as the two of you found a familiar rhythm.

“There you go, baby.” Steve encouraged as he eased a finger into your dripping pussy with a downright sinful groan, quickly adding another. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

The dual pleasure of his fingers and tongue made you see stars, made your back arch and your thighs squeeze his head until your orgasm washed over you in a devastating wave. It wasn’t until you shoved him back by his head that he finally stopped his tortuous pleasure. The sight of him wiping the wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand still had your belly tightening with need.

“You did so good.” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, then your navel, kissing a trail between your breasts and up your neck until he met your lips. You moaned at the filthy act of tasting yourself on his tongue. “Look so pretty when you come.”

The combination of his praise and the not-so-subtle press of his cock against your thigh had you keening beneath him, your leg hooking over his waist to drag him close enough to grind against the bulge in his briefs.

“Feel that?” He practically growled as he rutted down against you shamelessly. “That’s all for you baby. Gonna stuff your pretty pussy full’a my cum and you’re gonna say thank you for it too, you hear me?”

“I will, I promise… I promise, Stevie.” You babbled, losing any comprehensible thought other than the absolute dismay that he wasn’t absolutely wrecking you already. “Please fuck me?”

“Since you asked so sweetly,” Steve rid himself of his last scrap of clothes like they were burning him and entered you in one fluid thrust that had the both of you moaning in unison. His forehead fell to your shoulder as he let you adjust, hips swirling in tiny circles of their own accord because you felt so fucking good. “Ssso fuckin’ tight,”

The light desperation in your whimper made him smirk, his teeth sinking into your shoulder before soothing the mark with a lick of his tongue. “This is what you needed, huh baby? Just needed to relax on my cock...”

“S-Steve…” Was all you could manage, your eyes unfocused as he gave that first tentative thrust, followed quickly by a sharp, deep rhythm that made you see stars.

“Cockdrunk already?” He cooed but his cocky tone broke as you clung to him, your fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps as you used those thighs he adored against him, dragging him closer, deeper. “Fuckin’ needy little thing, aren’tcha? That’s okay, sweet baby, I got whatcha need.”

Steve pulled away and for a moment you clutched tighter, trying to keep him against you, but he pushed your legs back to your chest with a strength to be reckoned with, the new position making you feel infinitely more full and he growled at the feeling of you tightening around him. There were already fingertip bruises forming on your thighs where he held you right where he wanted you as his thrusts became faster, more desperate with his impending release, with the damn near feral need to see his cum leaking from your fucked out pussy.

It was the pressure of his thumb against your clit that forced you to find your words, your sweet cries of ‘please, please, please’ egging him on to roll his thumb until your hips jerked under the stimulation. You were so sensitive, so responsive to every little touch, it drove him fucking crazy.

“Come on my cock like a good girl,” Steve gritted out, angling his hips to grind his cock against that sweet spot that made you arch against him so prettily. “Thaaaat’s it…”

You broke underneath him, your second orgasm ripping through you in an intense burst that stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you to gasp as you shuddered. It was his favorite sight, watching you fall apart beneath him, and Steve let your leg settle around his waist once more to chase the high he balanced upon in faltered thrusts until he couldn’t hold back any longer. His pelvis pressed flush against your sweat-slick skin, some basic instinct demanding he shove himself as deep into your sensitive pussy as he could to fill you up.

He let himself melt against you, his full weight keeping you pressed against the mattress as he softened inside you, the both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath. You carded your fingers through his hair lazily, eyes closed as you let the satisfied exhaustion soak into you, grinning when your still fluttering walls made Steve hiss slightly. He still kept himself buried inside of you - so typical of him.

Sighing happily, Steve nuzzled his face further into your neck to trail sloppy kisses along your neck, pausing every now and then to lean back into your hand. Playing with his hair was the number one way to get him all warm and snuggly, especially if he was exhausted from giving you a thorough fucking. He gingerly eased himself off of you only to pull you close so you could lay your head on his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you even closer to sleep.

“Go to sleep, honey.” Steve rumbled, his voice full of his own exhaustion. “I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[spicykiwiis]

Late Night Café (pt. 1)

Summary: The streets of New York seem to change at night, and Bucky gets drawn in to the little café with strange work hours during a heavy storm. Lucky for him you really don't mind that he's drenched head to toe.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: None :)

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

New York City completely changes at night.

Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight. Although these past few days have been pretty bleak, with rain forming puddles that cover the sides of the road and splash onto the sidewalk anytime a car drives by. Not that the sidewalks weren’t already wet though, this heavy rain hasn’t been forgiving, and not an inch of outside New York remains dry. Still though, even when the city hasn’t seen sunlight for what feels like forever now, the ambiance still shifts when it gets fully dark. It’s not that there’s a lack of people keeping it lively, no. I don’t think there’s ever going to be a point where the streets of New York have no people on them. Maybe it’s the type of people that are out. Surely that girl that walks by every early morning with her dog wagging its tail beside her is not the same girl that walks by at four in the morning with her heels in one hand and a beer in her other, bumping shoulders with her friends as they walk back from a night out.

You’d think with all the people that are out and about during those late nights in the city, some type of noise or chaos would follow them, but no. At some point in the night it always gets quiet, almost like a sense of stillness that slowly creeps up on you as the moon climbs up higher in the sky. And with that sense of stillness comes a sense of peace that covers the little café that lits up the dim streets of New York.

There’s a small sign on the door that says open 7am-6pm and then again 1am to 5am. It’s a weird schedule for a small local café to have, but still the little bell that hangs at the top of the door doesn’t cease to chime during those dark hours. It’s normally students that come in so late at night, looking for a caffeine boost that will help them get through those assignments that they’ve left for the last minute. There’s the insomniacs too though, and those always seem to be the same regular customers that have their orders ready for them when they stop by, like a sort of routine that gets created over time.

It’s been more quiet than normal the past few days though - heavy rain really seems to stop people from leaving the warmth of their apartments, no matter how sleep deprived they might be. The clock’s already at 2:34am, and if it were a normal day you would’ve already made and served at least 5 coffees. Even old Mike hadn’t shown up like he usually did every night at around 1:40, and now his mug stays empty and unused in the shelf, making you extremely aware of the absence of customers. You understand though, the rain is hitting extra heavy tonight, and the water that cascades down the windows makes the streetlights look distorted and blurry. No sane person would think to be out on the streets with this weather, but still you leave the small café open, busying yourself by wiping down a few tables and cleaning a few mugs and dishes Alfie from the dayshift had probably forgotten to clean.

The playlist you always played during these late shifts played quietly in the background, the smooth 40s jazz making you sway slightly side to side as you set the now clean dishes aside to dry. As much as you love serving customers, these rare empty nights are always appreciated from time to time, even if sometimes you can slowly feel loneliness creep up on you. You pushed those feeling down though, and right as you were about to step foot on the kitchen the small chime of the bell you had grown to appreciate over the years stopped you, catching you slightly off-guard.

It was a tall man that had just come in through the door. His short hair was completely drenched and was sticking down on his forehead, water droplets falling down his face. The black leather jacket he had on was completely wet, but lucky for him the impermeable material probably stopped the water from getting to the shirt he had underneath. He brought up a gloved hand and pushed back his hair, careful to not get anything wet.

“Sorry I- I don’t want to make a mess. I don’t have an umbrella and this was the only place open” his voice caught you off-guard, it’s softness making you relax your shoulders. You hadn’t noticed how tense you’d gotten, but a man his size coming in at almost 3 in the morning during a night like this would get anyone on edge. The hard look in his eyes had completely disappeared when he noticed and spoke to you, and you were glad about it.

“Oh please! Don’t worry, come in. Weather’s rough tonight. You can take a seat wherever.”

A small smile appeared on his face and disappeared as soon as it came, but you didn’t miss the look of relief on his face as he took a seat on one of the stools placed behind the main counter. You still took notice of how careful he was of not getting anything else wet, which was nice.

“What can I get you?” you smiled as you grabbed the little notepad clipped to your apron, ready to take his order.

“Uh- just a black coffee’s fine. Thank you.”

You nodded and walked over to the coffee maker, making sure everything was in order before making his coffee. He kept his jacket and gloves on, which slightly concerned you since he was drenched in water and probably freezing. You waited for the coffee to be made and watched from the corner of your eyes as he looked around the small café, stopping to look at all the doors in it for slightly longer periods of time. He seemed to be alert, but after a couple looks around the place he finally settled down completely.

The coffee machine came to a stop and you grab one of the mugs you had just cleaned, filling it to the top and grabbing a clean rag along the way as you went to serve it to him.

“Here’s your coffee. And here’s a clean rag if you want to dry yourself off a bit. Sorry I don’t have any towels on hand right now, I’d give you one if I did.” You placed the coffee in front of him and the rag next to it, smiling as he looked up to meet your eyes.

“Thank you.” He took the rag and brought it up to his hair, rubbing it to get rid of the excess water. “I’m sorry again- about the mess.”

You reassured him it was fine, that he didn’t even make a mess. It was only the entrance that had gotten wet, nothing a couple swipes with the mop could fix.

He still kept his gloves on even when holding the hot cup of coffee between his hands, but you decided not to question anything and went back to working. Most of the customers that came in during the late nigh shifts weren’t there to have a conversation anyways, just there to have something to drink and think about their lives. It was always interesting to see. There’s a lot of characters that come in so late at night, and working there you end up learning how to read people very well.

This guy though – he was hard to read. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but you could tell he was still alert about what was going on around him. It was safe to say you hadn’t gotten a customer like him in the years you had been working here, and yet there was something weirdly comforting about his brooding presence. With the smooth jazz paying in the background, he seemed to belong there.

“Weird time for a café to be open.”

His deep voice catches you of guard again, he certainly didn’t seem like the type to come in and make conversation.

“Weird time to be drinking black coffee.” You replied back with amusement, both of you turning to look at the clock hanging on the wall to the left. 3:22am.

“Touché.”

He took a sip of his coffee and watched as you grabbed another clean mug and a tea bag, turning on the kettle that was next to the coffee machine. He seemed to be up for some distraction, so you spoke up again.

“So, what’s a guy like you doing walking around under pouring rain? With no umbrella too.”

“A guy like me?”

“I asked first. You can’t answer a question with another question.” You smiled in amusement, watching as he sat up on his stool. He looked at your face, and stayed silence for a few seconds. It was as if he was taking you in, deciding whether or not he wanted to have this conversation with you.

“Apartment felt crowded. Got too far out before I realised it was raining.”

“Wow. Must’ve been really deep in your thoughts if you didn’t notice yourself getting drenched.”

He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee, eyes wandering to the side. Taking in the empty tables that were scattered along the place. The café was small, so there where only three tables along with the six stools that were placed in a row along the counter. Plants covered most of the place, and if you paid close attention you could smell the fresh and somewhat sweet scent they gave off. He changed the subject.

“I am curious though. I’ve never seen small cafés like this open so late.”

“You’d be surprised at the amount of people that stop by. Some people just need an escape late at night that sleep can’t give them.” The corners of his mouth turned up at this, almost like he knew exactly what you were talking about. “And students. Sleep deprived students that leave their assignments to the last minute sure do keep the business alive.”

He let out a chuckle at this comment, and for a second your breath got caught on your throat. There was no denying this man was extremely handsome, and something about his laugh gave you a weird feeling at the pit of your stomach.

“Late Night Café. It’s a fitting name.”

“Funny enough there were no night shifts when we started. Figured we should stay true to the name though, and here we are.”

It seemed like the rain was slowly starting to cease now. The loud noise of the water hitting the window glass was slowing down, and the streets were starting to look clearer now that the rain was not constantly washing down the glass.

“You’re in luck, it looks like the rain is starting to slow down.” You nodded to the glass and he turned his head, taking in the way the once pouring water turned into water droplets that slid down it. He let out a hum in response.

Now that the rain had slowed down, a couple other customers appeared through the door, bell chiming each time they walked through the door. You could see him taking in the people that came through, listening to their orders and watching as you moved around getting the orders ready. He had asked for a refill in the middle of this, and you smiled as you poured more hot coffee into his empty mug. As much as you liked the empty nights, there was something about serving the people that came through that made you feel peaceful. It was like second nature to you.

“You really seem to be in your element.” He spoke again as you cleaned the mug of a customer that had just left, and you smiled in content.

“Been doing this for a long time now.”

You took in his state now, noticing how his hair was completely dry now and his leather jacket no longer had water droplets sliding off it. He seemed to be less alert now too, maybe because he had taken in the whole café now. As you went to set down the mug you just cleaned he looked at the clock, noticing it was already almost four in the morning. You watched as he stood up from his stool.

“I should probably get going. Thanks for the coffee. And the shelter too.” He placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table besides his coffee mug and gave you a small smile getting ready to leave.

“Woah- wait. Coffee here’s definitely not that expensive. Let me get your change.” You went over to the cash register, but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it, keep the change. Consider it an apology for getting the place wet.”

“I can’t let you do that; you didn’t even make a mess-”

“Really it’s okay. I won’t take the change if you give it to me.” He smiled once again, placing his hands on his leather jacket pockets to stop you from trying to place the change in his hands.

“Okay fine – but let me at least give you something for the way back.”

He wanted to say no, but you were adamant on this, so you grabbed one of the savoury pastries that you had on display and placed it on a takeaway bag for him, smiling in achievement when he took the small paper bag. He smiled at you, saying a quick bye as he left through the door, bell chiming and leaving the café feeling more quiet than ever.

You soon realised that you never got his name, and part of you wished that you had asked, even if that was something you never asked to new customers. Besides, who knows if he’ll ever stop bye again. You were grateful for the heavy rain now, and little did you know he was too, because thanks to it he found out about the little café lighting up that dark street of New York.

******

A/N: Hey! I haven't written anything in what feels like years, let alone post anything. I hope yall like this, i might turn it into a series, i'll have to see if inspiration hits. Anyways thanks for reading!

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

next

Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics. 

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had. 

*

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead. 

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat. 

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke. 

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife. 

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?” 

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

*

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye. 

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed. 

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward. 

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”

[intercoursefluids]

The Impromptu Sleepover Part 2 (Final)

One day. All she asked for was one normal day. Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? A single completely average day is not too much to ask for.

Unless of course, you are Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Then it’s impossible.

People around Marinette start crying as Scarecrow walks into the room, mothers hiding their children behind them as everyone holds onto each other, scared of what’s to come.

Marinette shudders at the pure animosity radiating from the man-turned monster.

Adrien, ever the faithful friend, mistakes the slight shake as fear and shifts so he covers her from the villain’s view.

Everything is quiet before Scarecrow starts on his evil monolog (not that anyone cares).

Tuning him out Marinette looks around, trying to come up with a plan to get everyone out before a shrill scream and crying fill the air causing her to snap back around.

Some of Scarecrow’s goons are holding a woman back as a small boy is dragged up to the monster himself.

Grabbing the boys are he holds the trembling child painfully tight before reaching behind him and pulling out a canister.

Seeing as how Marinette planned this whole trip she made sure to know all about the local heroes and villains.

And the knowledge of what that bastard was going to do to that poor kid squashed any sense of self-preservation Marinette had.

Rushing forward she manages to make it past the few armed men standing between her and Scarecrow and rips the kid away from him just to get blasted in the face by the fear-toxin.

Ringing fills her ears as she collapses to the ground, voices shouting from the corners of her mind.

All of them shouting how they failed her, she should have done better. That she never should have been chosen.

One voice rings out crystal clear amongst all of the other roaring voices.

You said you would save me, M’lady. I should have known better than to trust someone like you. After all, you aren’t even worth the Ladybug miraculous. I have to say, I’m disappointed in you Bugaboo.

Her head jerks up at her partner’s voice, tears streaming from her eyes as she comes face to face with someone she never wanted to see again.

Chat Blanc.

Voices surround her as explosions sound in the distance. Her parents, her friends, everyone. All screaming at how she failed them, how she should have stopped when she had the chance.

Children’s cries fill the air around her, only these are different. They don’t echo from within her head, instead, they come from around her, slowly grounding her. Reminding her that this is just some monster’s trick.

The fear is still there, prominent as ever, but now her focus is on getting everyone out. She hasn’t failed yet.

Slowly uncurling from the ball she had formed she looks around. Forcing herself to see past the bloodied faces of people she failed to save.

All around her everyone is still the same, the hostages in the same places, same as the gunmen (even if they look smug at her suffering).

The only one missing is Scarecrow himself, and turning ever so slowly to face Chat Blanc her fears are confirmed.

In Scarecrows place stands her beloved kitty.

Pure unadulterated rage fills her as he dares wear her kitten’s face.

Lunging at Chat Blanc she hears the startled screams as she attacks him before the rushing in her ears takes over, leaving her deaf to the sound of shattering glass as the heroes arrive on the scene.

Having the advantage of surprise on her side she manages to pin him fairly easily tying his arms behind his back with her visitors’ pass before spinning around to help take down the rest.

An arm wraps around her, trapping her arms to her side as she struggles, a hand coming up to cover her eyes as she tries to getaway.

Quiet shushing and words of reassurance reach her ears causing her struggling to slow.

“W-who are you?”

Marinette winces at the tremor in her voice as she takes stalk of her surroundings.

Her head is tucked under their chin as their surprisingly strong arms hold her in place, one hand still firmly over her eyes.

“My name is Damian. I’m trying to help keep you calm until they can get you the anti-serum.”

She chuckles even as she shakes in his hold.

“It’s not normally a good idea to grab a girl from behind if you want her to calm down.”

He tenses slightly.

“Right, I didn’t think that through. Most people see what they are most afraid of so I thought if I took that away it would help you calm down.”

Marinette doesn’t reply for a while, opting to try and match his breathing instead of replying. All the while subconsciously leaning more against him.

“It’s working I’ll admit, you just went about it horribly. Can we sit down? I feel like my legs are about to give out.”

She feels him loosen his hold and fumble with something behind her before the hand over her eyes is replaced with a piece of cloth. He takes her hand leading her over to a wall before sitting and pulling her with him, tucking her into his side and draping something over her shoulders as her shaking picks up again.

“I’m sorry, can you tell me about yourself? It’ll help me keep my mind off of the panic.”

She feels him nod shifting again so she's leaning more against his chest.

“I have 3 older brothers. Richard, but everyone calls him Dick, Jason, and Tim. I lived with my mother until I was 10 so I’ve only known them for 6 years. They are all adopted but I don’t think anyone even remembers that half the time.”

Marinette can’t help the soft smile that takes over her face as she wraps her arm around him (why is he so warm???).

“You sound like you love them.”

He scoffs.

“Not in a million years, they’re annoying. Grayson is overly dramatic and a hopeless romantic, Todd is a trigger-happy hothead, and Drake is an insomniac, workaholic with a caffeine addiction.”

Marinette can’t help but giggle, her overwhelming fear slowly receding enough for her to think.

“They may be ‘annoying’ but they’re your family, I can tell you care about them.”

Damian makes an offended noise even as he wraps his arm around her rubbing her arm up and down.

“The only person in our family that I actually like is Alfred, he’s our grandfather and the only reason any of us are still alive, but, I guess they aren’t as bad as they used to be. Not that I'll ever admit that to them. Their egos are big enough as is.”

Marinette is about to respond when another voice cuts her off, causing her to cling to Damian as her heart rate picks back up frantically.

“Too late, I brought the anti-serum for your frie- Hey is she okay?”

Damian pulls her into his lap, rubbing her back even as he scolds the other person.

“She’s still being affected by the fear-gas dipshit! I just got her to calm down again, give me that!”

One of his arms leaves her body as he reaches away from her, he starts whispering to her again as something pricks her upper right arm.

It only takes a minute for the anti-toxin to work, causing Marinette to sag in relief against Damian as he keeps his arms around her.

“Seriously Todd! You should have known better than to startle someone like that!”

Marinette takes deep breaths of air, slightly surprised by the smell of Damian’s cologne before realizing she has her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re right. My bad demon-spawn.”

Damian scoffs adjusting Marinette in his arms so he can sit up instead of leaning against the wall.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, nitwit!”

Marinette sits up slightly kissing Damian’s cheek as she takes the makeshift blindfold off before returning to her earlier position.

“Thank you, Damian. You didn’t have to help me, much less stay with me and calm me down. You’re really sweet, you know that?”

His arms tense around her before cackling fills the air.

“Demon-spawn? Sweet?! I don’t know who you’re calling sweet but it’s most definitely not my little brother.”

Damian groans as ‘Todd’ keeps laughing, instead directing his attention to Marinette.

“Do you think you’re okay to walk? The cops will probably want to take a statement.”

She nods and they slowly rise, Damian, supporting her the whole time. Once she is finally standing up straight she turns to look at the boy who helped before coming face to face with the greenest eyes she’s ever seen.

Her breath catches in her throat as she meets his electric emerald eyes for the first time since they met.

They stand there, in complete silence before a camera flash breaks through their quiet bubble.

Turning towards Todd, Marinette studies his features.

Pale skin, blue eyes, and black hair with a tuffet of white at the front.

“What do you think you are doing,Jason?”

Todd now dubbed ‘Jason’ grins stepping away from his brother.

“Ooh, the first name. You only use that when you’re pissed. And I’m sending this to the group chat, no one will believe me if I say that you were civil with another human being!”

Damian glares.

“You have ten seconds to run, Todd.”

Jason wastes no time running away as quickly as humanly possible.

Damian goes to follow him but stops when Marinette grabs his arm.

“Help me over to the officers? I’m still a little shaky.”

His sharp glare softens as he leads her over to give her statement.

10 minutes later, they are both sitting on a bench waiting for the police to finish getting statements from the rest of the hostages and for the armored truck that will transport Scarecrow to arrive.

“One time when I was 11, Todd and Drake decided it would be a good idea to kidnap my turkey Jerry and hide him away after buying a raw turkey and cooking it for dinner. They said they found it wandering around outside and decided it would be a good idea to cook it.”

Damian shakes his head in fond exasperation.

“That is the closest I had ever come to crying in front of my brothers. I ended up running and telling Grayson what they did and he got so mad. They ended up fessing up that it was just a prank and they didn’t mean to actually make me upset. They ended up going out and buying a bunch of junk food and pizza before we had one big movie night together.”

“We all ended up falling asleep in the living room all piled on top of each other. Father was so surprised when he came home and he didn’t even send us to bed. He got changed and joined us in the living room. We all ended up sleeping in a giant pile on the floor that night while Alfred took the couch.”

Marinette smiles up at Damian, he had been telling her about himself ever since she had asked him to and she honestly enjoyed it.

“They sound wonderful Damian. Hey, when do you think they are going to-.”

“Mari!”

Marinette is cut off by one of her favorite blondes as he latches onto her body.

“When you rushed forward I tried to follow you and ended up getting hit with the gas and had a panic attack, and then when they gave me the serum I couldn’t find you and had another panic attack, and they couldn’t calm me down for a while and then they had to take my statement but I still couldn’t find you and I’ve been freaking out the whole time. What the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

By the time Adrien finally stops rambling his head is in Marinette’s lap and his arms are wrapped around her waist.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, but you shouldn’t have even followed me, that was dangerous and stupid and your dad would destroy me if anything happened to you.”

Adrien snorts.

“If you don’t want me to follow you then don’t take off running.”

Marinette groans, not acknowledging the fact that she is still leaning against Damian.

“Adrien, you are far too ride or die for your own good.”

Adrien sighs, leaning back to look at his best friend.

“Yeah well, Chloe is probably gonna kill us both if we don’t get back to the hotel soon. She heard what happened and has been blowing up my phone since I came to. Ms. Bustier won’t let her leave though.”

“We are so dead. She’s going to actually kill me this time. Damian? Would you like an invite to my funeral? You’ll need a tux.”

Before Damian can even try to respond Adrien cuts him off.

“Oh! There's another person here… Who saw me acting dramatic…. Oh no.”

Adrien's pale face contrasts brightly with Marinette’s, which is bright red from restraining her laughter.

“Okay, okay this is fine. It’s fine. We have two options here, A: We kill you so you can’t spill our secrets or B: You become our friend and are kept under surveillance.”

Damian raises an eyebrow at him not even bothering to acknowledge how dramatic he is still being.

“No.”

Marinette finally breaks, cackling like a witch she rips a piece of paper from her ever present sketchbook and writes her number down.

“Here, this is my number in case you want to stay in contact. Come on Adrien, Chloe is going to kill us.”

She grabs Adriens arm and starts to run, ignoring his protests of ‘He knows too much to be left alive!’ in favor of trying to make it back to the hotel with her other favorite blonde.

She didn’t see the soft smile Damian sent her way as he puts her number in his phone…

But Jason did, and soon will ever other wayne if the video he sent to the family group chat had anything to say about it.

[ssscentral]

Drawing Blood [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: An attempt to get over a two year crush on your friend (and a suspected vampire) leads to interesting discoveries.

genre: angst, fluff, supernatural, vampire, god

warnings: death mentioned in passing

wc: 3.8k

member: Lillia || @moccahobi​

a/n: Happy (late) birthday @voiceswithoutlips​!

You fell into your bed, a headache developing as you screamed into your pillow. You’d hoped that a date would help clear up some of your emotional constipation like some detox but instead you were left even more confused and torn. That date was so nice. 

Sure, you hadn’t been on many dates or even socialized much since you finally got a deadline for your next manuscript (and it in many ways felt more like two friends hanging out than a romantic date… but it was just one date… that could change). This was also by far one of the best dates you’d had. Jungkook was such a gentleman and you had so much fun.

You’d only met Jungkook last week, the man talking you up at the cafe you were writing at. He exuded confidence and you were drawn in by his detailed tattoos and soft voice (it’d helped as well that you could have sworn that you recognized him vaguely, although you couldn’t place where). Next thing you knew, the two of you were texting and excitedly making plans for a date at a small pizza shop that you immediately fell in love with. He was apparently a picky eater with a sensitive stomach, which reminded you so much of two of your friends (Seokjin and Taehyung), so he only had a few slices of pizza and one of the fancy drinks the shop sold (you suspected that Jungkook was a vampire and the drink was some fancy blood based drink but didn’t want to pry). Unlike Jungkook, you stuck with a simple soda to wash down your pizza, and unlike Jungkook you weren’t limited to a few foods (a perk of being a minor god probably). 

In fact, Jungkook got a hoot at just how much you could eat (you didn’t tell him yet since it was just the first date, but as a minor god, you needed to eat a lot since you burned so much energy) and you got a hoot out of slowly eating the pizza as he eyed it with hunger. The man had a sensitive stomach, not a lack of taste and the pizza was damn good.

That being said, the night seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and soon enough the pizza shop was closing and Jungkook was walking you home. You offered for him to come in since the two of you were having so much fun but he didn’t take you up on that offer . Jungkook simply kissed you sweetly and said goodbye. 

A sigh left you as you thought about the kiss, a ghost of the kiss still caressing your own lips still tingling at the idea of it. 

Jungkook was so sweet!

But you didn’t think the two of you clicked romantically. At least not this date. You’d probably give it a few more dates, a seed of hope whispering to you that he might be what you need to get over a long term crush. That being said, what if he developed feelings and you didn’t and then a potential friendship was ruined? 

It was an amazing date but the more you reflected on it, the less it felt like his romantic passes hit you as much. Sure, you felt giddy because of his soft kiss and the many compliments but was that because of Jungkook or because you wanted affection?

You’d been holding out for your crush to ask you out for so long and only recently settled on the idea that, despite the flirtyness of some conversations, he probably didn’t like you one bit. Seokjin was the one who urged you to go on a date with Jungkook. Seokjin was also the only one who knew about your crush on your mutual friend. 

A comfort did come to you in the fact that Jungkook was busy tonight. You didn’t have to text him expressing how much you enjoyed the date yet. You had time to think through stuff and hopefully have a better understanding of what you did want. 

With that thought in mind, you tried to clear your mind and fall asleep but after an hour, you still couldn’t. So you did what any logical insomniac did:

You rolled over and opened discord. Only one of your friends, Taehyung, was online and while you were torn about talking to your crush about your date, you also knew that he was dying to hear how your date went. Even if he was a tad suspicious about Jungkook (“who would just… walk up to you and talk?! That is extroverted… and extroverts are scary”), he was curious. Plus, with how sweet Jungkook was during the date, you were fairly positive that Taehyung would  have to love Jungkook.

Right?

The more you thought about it, the less sure you were.

You shook your head.

Taehyung was an oddball you’d met back when you were a regular at the local library. He was the main person who worked night shifts and you were one of the few people who liked to be at the library at night. After a week of him stuttering welcome and goodbye when you were in the library, you finally worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation about a manga he was reading. 

That was basically the start of your friendship with him. 

After that night, he would help you procrastinate on your work by reading mangas together and that then evolved to getting breakfast together some mornings after his shift. Not surprisingly, that also evolved into a small crush. He was funny and kind and sweet and good looking. That being said, you didn’t think he liked you back. Sometimes he’d flirt but for the most part he actually seemed to not care about romance which is understandable. You had an inkling that he was a supernatural being of sorts and you understood how hard it was to indulge in romance when humans were often very scared of the supernatural. It took you so long before you even contemplated going on a date with non-gods (and even gods because relationships got messy between gods).

Despite your crush, he was a good friends and he was bound to be up at this time, unlike Seokjin or Jisoo. If you messaged one of them, they’d probably wake up just to scold you for being up so late. 

Talking with Taehyung hadn’t turned out how you’d hoped though. You tried to show only the best parts so that he’d trust Jungkook more (and maybe also to try and make Taehyung jealous) but it seemed as if even the idealized store made  Jungkook seem even more suspicious and you found yourself stopping Taehyung in the middle of a tangent, your headache growing. You liked Jungkook. You were still unsure if you liked him romantically but you did like him in a friendly manner… what was Taehyung seeing that was so strange?

Hell.

You thought that they were fairly similar. 

Both seemed to work late nights. They both enjoyed dark red drinks. They both had an interest in fashion. They both had a similar humor. Both enjoyed games. You could go on. They were very similar. 

Did they have some past conflict?

Taehyung was often overly protective of you. It was a struggle to have him accept your friendship with Seokjin but he was never this suspicious. Although that could have been because you were fairly positive they were friends before you became friends with either of them.

You tossed over in your bed, your mind becoming more clouded.

There were other friends that Seokjin and Taehyung shared that Taehyung was fairly determined to not let you meet. You had an inkling that Seokjin and Taehyung were either the same supernatural creature or were opposites which could explain why they fought… but Taehyung’s other friends? He chose them as friends, right? They would like each other. A tight knot formed in your stomach as you thought more about it. Taehyung didn’t have a problem with other people you were friends with (and some you knew for a fact were supernatural beings as well)… only those he knew previously… who from what you’ve seen in pictures, were fairly attractive bachelors…

Did Taehyung have a crush on you? 

Well… fuck… that would make sense. 

His original reasoning for not wanting you to go on a date was because Jungkook was extraverted… but so was Chae and Mina. He often checked in to make sure you got places safely and always jumped to hang with you. From what you’d gathered from some bruises that Seokjin and Taehyung sported shortly before Taehyung became ok with you being friends with Seokjin, there was also some sort of fight there. The more you thought about it, the more you were sure that the two fought shortly before Taehyung became ok with you two being friends. 

The possible fight was just so odd in general. You brushed it off because both seemed to be fine but it most definitely made you a tad apprehensive of the two and you practically avoided them for a month after that. If it hadn’t been for them working to show that they were close for almost a year after that, you would have been close to dropping both of them.

Did that mean that Seokjin was trying to come onto you at first?

The knot in your stomach tightened uncomfortably. 

He was friendly and somewhat flirty, but no more than he was for others! Were you just so oblivious? 

No. You were fairly positive that he didn’t try to come onto you. Sure he was flirty for a little at the beginning of your friendship, but it dropped soon into your friendship.

Taehyung has known you for at least three years now though… Why hasn’t he made a move? 

You got up anxiously. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight. Thoughts were racing through your head at the speed of professional track and field runners and they were all making you more anxious and confused. Nothing was adding up properly and a headache was blooming the longer you dwelled on it all… but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

By five in the morning, you were exhausted and just wanted an answer.

Which is what led to you doing one of the most ballsy things in your life. 

You texted Taehyung (in a long rambling paragraph) asking if he liked you romantically. 

He most definitely saw it and shortly after went offline (or invisible). Surely he got off at 4:30 unless the next person was late. He should have time to respond. You took a deep breath and went to your small and shabby kitchen to grab a glass of water, hopeful that the water would add clarity to the confusion you were feeling. 

As you sipped from your chipped cup, you tried to distract your mind from the many scenarios that were running through your mind. Every five seconds, your mind would stray again and you were once again forced to refocus on the world around you. 

In another moment of focus on the present moment, an incessant knock at your door made you jump in shock. The knocking scared you at first (because who in their right mind would possibly be at your house at five in the morning) until you noticed the knocks happening in a pattern.

It was Taehyung.

The man child could never resist knocking in a pattern even if it was a serious situation. But why was he at your house? 

If he didn’t have a crush on you, he could just text you that.

If he did… maybe that would warrant coming over? 

Or maybe he was so mortified at you even thinking that you liked him. 

Fuck. You hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Yeah! Open the door!” Taehyung’s shout pulled you out of your worries and you rushed over to let him in. 

His work and home were both at least three kilometers away from your house and yet when you opened the door, he seemed to have barely broken a sweat nor was he gasping for air (which just further verified to you that he was some sort of supernatural creature). If you didn’t know his habits after work, you would have thought that he was already in your area when you texted. 

“I don’t want to go out with you.” He stated as soon as he entered your house, his shoulders tense and eyes wide. 

“Ok? You could have just texted me that.” 

His wording was confusing but nonetheless, it cut like a sword. He didn’t like you and didn’t want to go out with you. It stung a little (maybe a lot… you did have a crush on him for a whole two years after all) to know that he didn’t like you but you’d been trying to accept that for a while so it was really just a confirmation of what you already knew.

It wasn’t important. 

He was just a good friend. You were friends. Nothing more. Besides, you were hopefully starting something with Jungkook. It was good that Taehyung didn’t like you. 

Totally.

You didn’t like him. 

You didn’t want a relationship with him.

It wasn’t like you’d been crushing on him for a while.

“I did want to explain why I am so protective of you though. We’ve been friends for three years. I think you deserve to know at this point.”

“Taehyung…  what?” You were conflicted at what he said, wanting an answer for his strange actions but also nervous for how this might change your relationship.

Before Taehyung continued, you led him to your living room, him taking a seat in a large chair that practically swallowed him whole as he brought his knees to his chest, and you taking a seat on a matching chair, leaning forwards in your seat. 

He stilled as he spared you a quick glance and took a shaky breath in, “You know how humans and supernatural beings live together? Like… not a lot is shared and most talk about it is on the downlow?”

“Are you a supernatural being?” 

He nodded slowly, not meeting your eyes, “I am a vampire… but not like a sparkly one or something!”

You snorted at that comment, “Taehyung, I have seen you in the sunlight. I know you don’t sparkle… I know some about vampires… but not a ton. Does it hurt to go into the sun? Clearly you don’t burst into flames but I thought it burnt.” 

“Well… it irritates and we can get really bad sun burns…” Taehyung shifts uncomfortably, “We do some stuff to help mitigate it. Like the more skin we cover up, the less contact we will have with the sun.”

“Oh! Do you all have rings blessed by witches to help you venture into the sun?” 

“No? Where did you hear that?” Taehyung laughs and shakes his head.

“A show?”

At that, more tension seemed to leave him as he laughed more and shook his head, “Nah. I mean… There is some jewelry that can help… but not really because a spell is on them.”

“Ok… so why does this relate to me going out with Taehyung? Wh-” And then it clicked.

“Is Jungkook a vampire? Wait… is Seokjin a vampire? Is that why you didn’t want us to be friends? But if he is… then what made you change your mind? Why are we even friends if you are suspicious about… wait… even if Jungkook and Seokjin are vampires, why didn’t you want us to be friends or date?”

A blush rose on Taehyung’s face as you kept stammering, “I am honestly surprised that you didn’t realize we were vampires earlier… especially after Seokjin-hyung and I’s bruises healed so quickly after our fight.”

“I mean… I’ve honestly had suspicions that you three were some sort of supernatural beings.”

“Really?”

“You all have weak stomachs. I rarely see you drink anything other than some nondescript red drink. You all work night shifts mostly.”

Taehyung laughed awkwardly, “I should talk to them about varying up their habits… I hope no one else has found out.”

“Are the three of you in the same coven?”

“Yeah”

You nodded slowly.

“So you’re… you’re not upset that we kept it from you?”

“I was more upset that you even fucking faught Seokjin! He’s part of your coven and your friend.” 

“Yeah… I was…” Taehyung coughed and blushed more, “I fought him because I was worried. Seokjin doesn’t always have the best track record with humans. I mean… that was a while ago but still.” 

Your brows furrowed some, visions of what Seokjin could have possibly done quickly playing through your mind like a movie going x5 the speed.

Older supernatural beings often didn’t have the best track record. You’d most definitely killed some beings in your time… but now you were tentatively curious and anxious about what he might have done.

You’d ask Seokjin later. 

“Well… I was avoiding you after that so I didn’t really pay much attention to how fast your injuries healed. I was just glad that they healed.” You said, choosing to gloss over his comment on Seokjin. 

He laughed, “Yeah. I figured. But… our fight… it was about you.” He coughed again, “I was worried about what he wanted with you. I don’t really remember how it became a fist fight… but he was teasing me about… stuff and then it devolved… but we’re good now. We have fights every once in a while. He is part of my coven and we’re bound to have some… conflict with how long we’ve been around.”

“What did he tease you about… if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Oh… Uh. Nothing really.” Taehyung was practically as red as a tomato now. 

You knew he was covering for something but you didn’t have it in you to probe more on that topic at the moment. 

“So you were apprehensive about Seokjin because he has, in the past, not been the best with humans… why are you so worried about Jungkook then? He seems like a nice guy to me. Didn’t give me any creepy vibes… although Seokjin didn’t.”

“Uh… well he is also in my coven.” Taehyung finished softly, eyeing you shyly once again.

You eyed him from where you were now sitting in your kitchen, waiting for him to continue. 

Yet Taehyung didn’t continue. 

He just continued to shyly glance at you before looking away, his face practically radiating heat from how badly he was blushing.

Your heart sped up some.

Being part of his coven should be a good thing, right?

Covens are like family… So why was going on a date with Jungkook so bad?

Why was Taehyung talking about humans so much?

Why was Taehyung blushing so much?

What was it that Seokjin brought up that led to a physical conflict? 

You asked about him having a crush on you. Why did he say he didn’t want to date you instead of him not having a crush on you? Were you just reading too much into it?

“Why is that of importance?” You finally asked when a whole minute passed and Taehyung didn’t continue. 

“Well… uh… I might not have told the whole truth when I arrived?” His voice was soft and cautious as he kept eyeing you cautiously, “I… Uh… I said I didn’t want to go out with you… but uh… I do…”

You couldn’t hear what he said after that though, his voice too soft as he looked away shyly (curse you not being born as a being with sensitive hearing). 

“What? Can you repeat? I didn’t hear the ending.” 

Taehyung coughed and took a deep breath, “I d-do like you… I just… because I am a vampire I won’t die. You… a human will… I… I’ve had a past relationship that happened like that… and I can’t handle that again.”

You took a deep breath, your mind even more confused than before, and grabbed his hand gently, “Taehyung, I am so sorry you had past relationships like that, but… you thought I was human?” 

He nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I… I’m a minor god? Didn’t I tell you that I spoke for the trees once?” 

“What?”

“I am a minor god… I rule over the forests of this region… I’ve been around for at least a century… Probably more but I didn’t keep track of time until I left the woods.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at you, slowly blinking.

You nodded slowly, “Here I thought that all the talk in my manuscripts about the woods made it obvious that I was in some way connected to them.” 

A slow blink.

“Or what about the time that we literally were in a park and I told you to stop climbing the trees because they were weak.”

Another slow blink.

“All my plants?”

“I literally just thought you were a plant loving person. I’ve met more of those types of people. Hell, Namjoon hyung, another person in my coven, is obsessed with plants.” 

This time it was your turn to slowly blink.

“What about the trips I do to shrines? The gifts delivered to my house?”

“I just assumed you were spiritual and popular with readers.”

“Either way… your worry about me dying? Not likely. It’s possible like it’s possible for you to die… but not really something that is likely to happen.”

Taehyung simply looked at you wide eyed, his jaw slack and shoulders sagging. A small laugh left you at his expression as you gently patted his hand, “So… you have a crush on me?” 

“Bu-I” Taehyung shook his head slowly, not looking you in the eyes, “Yes? But you are dating Jungkook now so I guess I missed my chance?” 

At that you took a deep breath in, “I mean… if I am honest… I had fun with Jungkook but I really only accepted a date because I was trying to get over a crush I have on this really cute vampire… I had suspected him to be one for a tad but didn’t bring it up because I really didn’t think he liked me back.”

“Do you like Seokjin?” Taehyung interjected, his eyes wide as he gripped your hands tightly, “He said that he’d make you like him! He literally kept flirting with you and trying to make passes until I confronted him! Damn it!”

“Taehyung. I don’t like Seokjin-- although I did suspect him to be a vampire too. I like you. And while I had fun with Jungkook, I felt no romantic feelings for him on the date.”

“I- really?”

You nodded.

“And the chances of you passing are low?”

You nodded.

A heavy sigh left Taehyung and it was like he was deflating, “Thank fuck.” 

You pulled him into a tight hug, laughing lightly at his comment, “So… with all that out in the air… Would you like to go on a date with me later today, Taehyung?”

“I might appreciate you telling Jungkook that there will be no future dates first… but yes.”

“Thank fuck. I think that’s something I can do easily.”

[calciumcryptid]

Requested By: @insomniac-jay

BNHA Streamer AU: ROYALS

Real quick, this is set in an au where no one has quirks.

Ashido Mina grew up playing all sorts of sports. Whether she was training with the boys, to kicking ass on the derby track she was always active. Despite being a real star athlete, brining her roller derby team to victory many times, she was in love with dance.

She studied everything she could about the art of dance, and eventually it carried over to a passion in performance. She always had a presence to her which was shown in her fashion, and her bubbly personality always trying to help.

In fact, that is what lead her to meeting the next member of ROYALS.

Jirou Kyoka was surrounded with music from a young age, and by age seven she knew how to play several different instruments. Her favorites being the guitar and electric piano. She also has a really good voice, but was always shy to show it off.

She is an employee at Put Your Hands Up Radio, where she is an on hand tech support for the electric equipment. Her boss, Yamada Hizashi, is actually her godfather so she is always hanging out after hours for him to teach her about music production.

One day she was deconstructing some busted speakers, scavenging for parts when an electrical fire started up. Ashido Mina rushed into action, and helped put it out. The two girls then got to bonding about music and stage performances. The two exchanged numbers, and started to go to the theater together.

The final member of the three is Komori Kinoko. This gal is from the country, being raised on a farm. She always had a desire to see the city, and upon discovering music she wanted to be a singer.

As soon as she turned eighteen, she moved to the city and got work at a local bar. There she started to perform on the small stage. There she gathered tips to help pay her rent. One day, a man offered to be her vocal coach who turned out to be Yamada Hizashi.

Originally skeptical, Kinoko Komori was soon swept up in the life and buzz of the studio. She was even introduced to Jirou Kyoka. Despite their polar aesthetics, they bonded over the mutual horror potential of fungi. Mina met Kinoko not soon after, and the two got along like a house on fire. The three got an apartment together, and months later Mina said they should make a band.

Thus ROYALS was created!

Their sound generally stays in the pop and punk ranges, but they make sure to diversify their sound. They created a YouTube channel for covers at the start, but went around to their own music. They even had a twitch channel so people could get to know them better as people. Kinoko and Jirou love playing horror games, which Mina gets absolutely terrified at. Mina plays more down to earth and rhythm games. Kinoko is just mad lass who plays whatever she wants whenever she wants. They don't play games though, the three do teach their specialties. Jirou will teach how to play instruments, Kinoko will give tips for starting singers and some gardening streams, and Mina will do dances or show off her athletic prowess.

Now because it is me, you know there is going to be good old romance in this slice of life idea. My ships for these three are Yaoyorozu x Jirou, Mina x Hagakure, and Kinoko x Kuroiro x Honenuki. However, I will leave the details of those relationships unknown for now as I still need to write pieces on those characters.

I will write about the platonic relationships though!

Ashido Mina and Kirishima Eijirou are still childhood friends, and while they lost touch briefly after they graduated they reunited through the online atmosphere. They also like to stream together a lot, so it is hard to find one without the other. People originally thought they were dating until Kirishima game out as gay.

Jirou Kyoka and Kaminari Denki are also childhood friends, but they have retained contact with each other. They were with each other through the most tense times of theirs lives including Kaminari's ADHD screening and Jirou Kyoka's transition. They are the ultimate disaster bisexuals.

Komori Kinoko didn't have any friends during her childhood, but once she was in the city she met Shiozaki Ibara and Kendo Itsuka who became her closest friend.

That is all for now, until next time.

[scrivenger-grimgar]

im on a fucking ROLL today so im gonna scream some more!!

i guess this would be in the AACK Au, so search for #accidentally a criminal kokichi in my blog tags for context

kokichi actually subconciously uses his talent a lot, so he ends up in a lot of weird situations.

one of these occasions is his accidental founding of the #CHANT club at HPA. it stands for “No CisHets & NeuroTypicals” and it literally just starts from him being really wary of Kaito because he’s really obviously a cishet neurotypical manly-man and that is threatening.

tenko notices him avoiding kaito and is like “thats suspicious... that WEIRD.” so she confronts him about it in private and he’s actually rather honest about his answers, which confuses her, but she learns that he’s scared bc “cishet neurotypical vibes” and thats how she learns that kokichi is transmasc (born intersex) gay boy struggling with what she can identify as paranoia and intrusive thoughts and probably a lot of other undiagnosed things.

the others start to realize that tenko is treating kokichi a little different than before, calling him “rat boy” or “criminal” or “bastard” but not “degenerate male” anymore. gonta is the first one to figure out that kokichi told tenko about either the mental health stuff or the lgbt stuff, and just like, joins them for little hang outs. so its just a transmasc gay boy, a transfem lesbian, and a demi-panromantic ace boy hanging out together, and they’re all neurodivergent.

eventually himiko starts tagging along with tenko to hang out, and ryoma and rantaro are worried about where their boss has been dissapearing to, and they end up gaining a lathargic enby aro/ace, a depressed pan cat lover, and a depressed autistic lesbian demigirl witch.

the meeting go on for a few months, before nagito, chiaki, and izuru (who’s currently fronting) find them and are confused??? what are our underclassment doing???

for context, they are found sitting on the grass behind the school, skipping wednesday classes. rantaro is singing backstreet boys while weaving handmade metal bug ornaments into gonta’s hair as he writes his most recent thesis, muttering in spanish about a malaria outbreak in brazil. ryoma and himiko are guiding tenko through making her first d&d character, with kokichi contributing every now and then, but he’s more focused on painting numbers onto the resin dice he made for the group as a gift.

izuru just straight up walks over and sits down next to gonta, talking to him in english about the brazil malaria outbreak, while chiaki stands in shock for about two seconds, before taking over for ryoma to help kokichi with the dice sets; there are several jokes about dice that dont quite make sense, and kokichi complains about needing to make more die sets, before they settle into singing backstreet boys with rantaro.

nagito takes a spot next to rantaro, who’s done with gonta’s hair, and rantaro starts teaching him how to hand make wire jewelry, telling him everytime the wire breaks that “its fine, i can just melt it down later. nothing’s being wasted and your learning, you arent doing anything wrong.”

so they gain a forgetful manic gay demiboy with low selfworth, an insomniac gray-ro/ace gamer girl, and a system containing an autistic transmasc bisexual disaster analyst and an autistic pan enby emo who mimics talents.

they keep adding people to the group like this.

mikan, local lesbian nurse with severe social anxiety, & her gf ibuki, autistic adhd bisexual musician who struggles with volume control.

mahiru, feminist lesbian photographer mom, & her gf hiyoko, mean lesbian brat girl with poor communication skills.

mondo, gay biker boy with anger issues, & his bf kiyotaka, autistic gay sociology/gender studies major with OCD, plus they’re half adopted kid chihiro, genderfluid programmer with social anxiety.

[soldrawss]

Can you please tell us more about the other characters in your Red Riding Hood AU? You mentioned them in the first post and now I’m curious to know more about them! 💗

I have SO many characters, but these are some of the main ones that pop out throughout the au!

Sir Steelleaf, or Jackie as he’s later called, is a diligent Knight of the Queen’s royal guard. He’s extremely diligent and hardworking, and holds his morals and the the safety of the kingdom he serves as his highest priorities. He has a strong sense of duty and justice, and is very loyal to the crown he serves. (Naturally, since he’s the head knight and all) Naturally gifted with the sword and loyal like a dog, when the prince went missing, Jackie was the first to volunteer himself to the Queen to find the missing prince and bring him home, vowing to protect the future heir to the crown with his life and strike down anyone who gets in his way. As ends up finding the prince the his begrudging hired on body guard pretty fast, and thinking that Leo was the one who kidnapped the prince in the first place, engages with the werewolf in battle to try and protect the prince. (It’s not even conceivable to him, or really anyone in the kingdom, that the prince wasn’t kidnapped and in fact, ran away). It takes a while and a few close calls, (Leo is absolutely not prepared to have a sword fight with the most powerful knight in the kingdom) but Red is finally able to convince Jackie that Leo is actually helping him, though it takes him a little while to convince him that the only threat to Red’s safety is the queen herself. Caught between his self of duty to the thrown, and his loyalty to his own heart and sense of justice, Jackie decides that his only purpose is to protect the little prince, and if that means he has to travel with the awkward duo to do so, then so be it. He isn’t betraying his kingdom or the royal family if he’s still with and protecting the little prince, right? (More shenanigans ensue, and the duo becomes a really great trio, with Leo and Jackie possibly becoming more than just disagreeable companions.)

Hansel and Gretal are part the Queen’s special forces. When the Royal Guard (what Jackie's a part of) are the public defense against enemies, the special forces are the Queen’s hidden chess pieces in the shadows, carrying out the Queen’s dirty work. They are only loyal to the queen, and will carry out whatever she needs done with lethal accuracy. Hansel and Gretal are brought on as an extra precaution to hunt down the prince and bring him back home, since they have special tracking abilities and have never failed capturing a prey they’ve set their eyes on. Though the Queen urges them to bring the prince in alive, she never specified if he couldn’t be unharmed, and definitely didn’t say anything about killing any wayward souls the lost prince could be traveling with.

Asa is a sleep deprived human alchemist (which is illegal since humans aren’t allowed to use magic unless they are specifically hired on and trained under the kingdoms mage program and serve only the royal family’s endeavors)(Obviously, since Ava is SUPER not about that corporate life style, is an illegal alchemist/magician that lives deep in the wooded mountains) He makes potions and charms for the local mountain folk, and is an insomniac that’s also a perfectionist, and usually won’t allow himself to sleep until he’s finished a potion concoction or finds a solution to a problem he’s working on. He’s brilliant, but also shrewd and vain, and even though he can be rude, the locals adore him nonetheless because deep down, he actually cares so fucking much for the local mountain folk and that they keep his alchemist hobbies a secret. 

Goldie was a little girl when she got separated from her family that was traveling up a cliff side of a mountain. An accident happened, and she ended up falling off the cliff side, hitting her head, and fell unconscious in the middle of the woods below. Lost, and with no memories of her family or even really who she was, a group of mercenary mountain folk took her in and raised her as their own. She grew up under the watchful care of the head clan leader, and his three bear like sons, and grew into an independent and fearless young woman. Brash and loud and with a determination stronger than an ox, she grew happy with the mercenaries, and found herself enjoying being a source of comfort for them after a long raid. She found her love and skill in cooking, and decided to build, with the help of her three brothers, a tavern for her mercenary family, and any wayward travelers traveling the deep woods and mountain side. It became a safe place for the misunderstood and outcasts of society, and any human, beast, or creature was welcomed and protected under her roof. 

Queen Grimhilde is Red’s paternal grandmother, and current ruler over the northern kingdom. Since the kingdom is a prosperous and safe one for humans, most of the citizens regard the queen with respect and love, and she definitely puts on an act of maturity and regalness and truly acts like a good ruler. (And for a long time, Red thought she was a great grandmother) But it turns out she is very much the villain in this story. Evil to the core, she’s only in it for her own personal gain, as she just simply pretending to be a good queen and grandmother to reach an ends to a means. That means, being sacrificing her grandson, the first prince and heir to the thrown, to complete a ritual that will grant her immortality. (Red figures out her dasterdly plan and mortified at seeing what she’s become, he runs away to make sure she can never get what she wants)