#there was barely any of the otp in the last stretch

[novelbear]

I posted 279 times in 2022

That's 219 more posts than 2021!

240 posts created (86%)

39 posts reblogged (14%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@denofdreams-writerblr

@corvase

@novelbear

@littlewhispersofsolitude

I tagged 254 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#writing prompts - 141 posts

#otp prompts - 140 posts

#imagine your otp - 137 posts

#otp writing - 134 posts

#writeblr - 119 posts

#prompt list - 116 posts

#request - 111 posts

#otp - 71 posts

#romance prompts - 61 posts

#fluff prompts - 52 posts

Longest Tag: 49 characters

#i'll answer what i can (if not tooo personal lol)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

some more domestic fluff prompts

scenarios: 

 lying on the couch on top of eachother, one combing their fingers through the other’s hair as they watch a movie 

 waking their partner up for work when they notice their alarm didn’t go off 

 alternatively: allowing their partner to sleep in because they were overworked anyway and need the rest. 

 one waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and can’t help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do so. 

 giving the other a spoonful of the meal they're cooking to test it out, holding their hand under their chin so nothing falls. 

 one is sick, so the other heats up a blanket in the dryer to give it to them while they rest on the couch. 

 listening to music together while they both take the day to clean around the house (maybe even getting a little distracted to dance instead)

 calmly reassuring the other it’s okay when they drop a glass, gently checking their hands for any injury. 

 wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself

 smiling across the table when their cheeks are full of food and look quite cute. 

dialogue:

 “can you turn the heat on? i’m getting cold...” 

 “you were talking about that table there being a little...bare, so i got you some flowers to put in it’s space.” 

 “stop singing into the broom and hurry so we can watch this movie!” 

 “you always fall asleep halfway into the episode.” 

 “move your blanket, i wanna lay down on your lap.” 

 “sweetheart, you look cute, but i’m gonna need the sweater.” 

 “i know we had it for dinner last night, but...” *sighs* “the things i do for you.” 

 “did you just put my hoodie in the wash?!” “yeah.” “love, my phone was in there!” 

 “come here, hold my hand.” “you’re washing the dishes.” “..i can do both...” 

 “i hope you don’t mind that i took that painting down, but i thought that picture of us looked a little better...” 

3,322 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#4

sleepy dialogue for your otp

"getting sleepy, aren't we?"

"i'm...m'up i swear."

"you're blurring your words together, time for bed."

"this is like the fifth time you've yawned in two minutes."

"love, wake up..."

"we're here, come on."

"how long was i out?"

"babe, you can barely keep your eyes open...let's go."

"you're putting me to sleep...stop."

"you look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet."

"do we have to get up?"

"five more minutes."

"shhh...stop fighting and get some rest."

"twenty minutes?" "fine..."

"you look adorable even in your sleep."

"you're so warm."

"well good evening, nice of you to join us."

"babe, are you up?"

"i'm gonna hang up now, kay?" "wait...no."

"goodnight, love."

3,583 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

#3

some sleepy scenarios

## since you all seemed to enjoy the sleepy dialogue prompts~

tracing your lover's features as they sleep

trying to count the freckles on your partner's cheeks when they're asleep

waking up with their legs over yours as they're stretched out and comfortable

taking pictures after finding your lover dozing peacefully while bundled up in blankets

running fingers through their hair as they snooze against your shoulder

feeling their fingers run through your hair while they lull you to sleep

napping on the couch together

hearing them snore a little for the first time

maybe the snoring is small, quiet and you can't help but giggle since it's kind of cute

or maybe it's quite loud and you realize you plan to spend the rest of your life with this

seeing that they're finding a hard time finding a comfortable position so you pull them into your arms

being annoyed because it's extremely hot out and they insist that they cuddle that night

laughing at their messy hair in the morning

sleepy kisses peppered all over their face

seeing them pout or scrunch their nose a little in their sleep

needing to use the restroom but they're clinging onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up

they're sick and finally fall asleep sprawled out on the sofa ..meaning you can sit for a few minutes yourself

apologizing when you call them and hear their deep, sleepy voice answer

pulling them back into bed before they go to work but they accidentally dozed off again and is about to be late

trying not to laugh too loud when you discover they talk in their sleep and say some very questionable things

4,653 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#2

the little things - romantic gestures i love

massaging their shoulders when they clearly had a long day

cupping their cheeks

random "i love you"'s just in case they forgot

kisses on the cheeks

kisses on the tip of their nose

or on their upper lip/cupids bow

playing with their fingers

reading with them

taking pictures of them when they don't realize it because they just look too good to not do so.

fixing their hair for them

pulling them closer when a cool breeze hits you both outside

linking arms

tying their shoe when you notice the laces flying around

knowing their morning routine so perfectly that you already have some of their breakfast/drinks laid out before they get to the kitchen

recording their favorite show on the dvr because you know they'll be in a little late tonight and miss it

gently wiping something off of their face and noticing them smiling because you're just so cute and close

pulling each other into the warmest hugs

dancing together for the first time

letting them take a sip of your drink, then another, then another, then- you might as well let them keep it

giving them a bite of your food

brushing your teeth together and looking at yourselves in the mirror

resting your head on their shoulder

4,719 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

"show, don't tell" - other ways to say "i love you"

  good morning/good night texts 

 pulling the other into a random embrace

 “this reminded me of you” 

 complimenting the features you love most about you lover

 going to hold hands in a stressful situation 

 holding their hands in general 

 “tell me about your day.” 

 saving their name as something cute in your phone

 taking pictures of each other on dates, telling the other how beautiful they are 

 “i’m here for you.” 

 doing a chore/task that you know they don’t enjoy doing

 calling just to hear their voice

 running some errands for them when they’re sick 

 bombarding them with blankets, tea, heating pads, and anything else they’d need when injured/under the weather

 knowing the medicines they’d usually take and having no problem going to get them when needed 

 getting lost in their eyes 

 reminding them how lucky you are to have them 

 peppering kisses all over

 or going in for one passionate kiss that just says it all

 cupping their cheek 

 wiping their tears when they cry  

 “you’re my everything.” 

 “let me know what you need, alright?” 

7,356 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wraithsoutlaws]

From the soft otp prompts & for the bbs ☺️ 3 & 4!

3) Write about your ship holding hands in a tense moment / 4) Write about your ship holding hands in a happy moment.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Blood exploded from Dagger’s mouth and he saw stars for the second time as Dum Dum knocked him on his ass. The constellations mocked him in a dim flicker above. For a moment he couldn’t move. That chrome fist shattered a tooth–not for the first time, though depending on the outcome of the night, it could be the last. He didn’t think Dum Dum would kill him. He may have underestimated him until now.

Before his vision had time to clear, he felt himself ripped upward, heaved into another punch that left him coughing, choking on his own blood.

“I trusted you–” Dum Dum spat. His voice sounded like a car crash, and he hit just as hard. Dagger’s skin split open above the eye, and his left optic turned suddenly to static. The seven red lenses staring down at him overtook what was left of his blurry vision. He could barely make them out in detail, just the bleeding glow around him like watching the world through a rain soaked windshield. “You never gave a shit about any of it!”

His tone shifted. There was a human crack in the words that sounded foreign on the otherwise mechanical growl of his voice. Dagger felt it like a knife in his chest, wedging him open. Something else he wasn’t used to.

His lungs heaved with heavy breath. Voice wet and ragged. 

“You ever hear about the scorpion and the frog–”

Blood sparkled on chrome knuckles and Dagger’s hand came up on instinct to stop the incoming blow. The impact radiated down his arm but his fingers tightened and he held true. It might be the last time he’d ever feel that touch. Part of him wanted to remember. A fingertip brushed across the scarred metal of his hand and Dum Dum went still, like for a moment the rage fell way to something softer.

They were never very good at softer.

Dagger’s grip tightened suddenly, savoring the feel of him one more time before he sent his free hand flying into Dum Dum’s face and knocking him sideways.

He forced a smile tight over dripping red teeth. Wild as a dog. 

“Is that the best you got, tin man?”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Dagger scanned over the horizon, flat land dusted with the setting sun. He’d purchased the lot on a deal. Holding a man at knifepoint makes negotiations smoother–something he’d learned long ago. Twenty miles out and you’d hit Vegas, but it was quiet here and empty. Nothing but sun-bleached barren road, forgotten and neglected by anyone who wasn’t Raffen. He had no problem dealing with Raffen. They’d learn soon enough where they sat on the food chain. 

His eyes dimmed automatically against the golden light as he tried to picture the sprawling carnival set so clearly inside his head. It’d take time, years maybe, but it was doable.

He heard the dirt crunch behind him and turned. Even those blaring red eyes paled in comparison to the sun. 

“You ever imagine I’d go legit?” He asked as Dum Dum stood beside him, stretching out the cramps in his legs. The truck sat on a ridge a few feet away, a veil of dust filling scratches in the paint. It was a long drive out, but they were home.

He shook his head, tone flat. “I never imagined you’d live past thirty-five.”

“Well, I am a man of surprises.”

“Hard to figure, though.” Dum Dum took a step forward. “You finally choose to spend a fortune and it’s five miles of fucking sand. ” 

He knew Dum Dum didn’t share the same longing for the wide open. He watched him scratch at the vents of his cyberware, brushing out the dirt trapped inside. 

“You just ain’t picturing it,” Dagger said, determined. He threw an arm over his shoulder and pointed him toward the west. “That right there’s where we’ll have the stage. Good music, not that fucking laser pop electric shit.”

He heard a laugh at his ear, and turned to the right, pointing out an especially flat section of desert. “That’s where the haunted house will go. Behind it will be the coaster. Biggest one on this side of the continent.” He was grinning now. The structures were clear in his vision. It finally felt real.

“You sound like some shitty salesman.” Dum Dum quipped.

“Bite your fuckin’ tongue,” Dagger shot back with a playful grin. He walked a few steps over, leading Dum Dum with him, where he drew a line in the sand with the tip of his boot. 

“And this will be our door.”

“Our door?”

“Our trailer.” There was an innocence in his voice he couldn’t quell. 

Dum Dum looked at him, smile creeping over his lips. 

“I figure you’d prefer solid walls to a tent.” 

He examined it again quietly. The image in Dagger’s mind was so vivid, had been for a long time. Longer than he realized now that he was here, and it wasn’t the stage or the haunted house that made the bats in his gut fly wild. It was him. And it wouldn’t be the same if he was gone. Dum Dum stepped through the imaginary threshold and looked around, gazing at the promise of what might be. 

“Place is a fucking mess,” he joked, as if standing in the middle of a crowded room.

The bats fluttered through him gentle.

“Some things never change.” He joined him inside, surrounded by the shared daydream. His hand inched toward him, glancing off the edge of his fingers before a pinkie linked gently around his own. The rest followed like dominoes. It was the only time Dagger’s chrome hand felt like flesh again. Dum Dum’s grip tightened around it.

Some things never change.

Some things do.

“C’mon,” Dagger said, hardly more than a breath. “I’ll show you where the bed goes.”

[krysyuy]

And they lived happily ever after.

[the-iceni-bitch]

The Bitch is Back

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (OTP)

Words: ~2.8k

Summary: You run into Ransom’s cunt of an ex again and it goes about as well as expected.

Warnings: explicit language, Ransom looking like a whole snack, fluff, that blonde bitch, Linda being a cunt, extremely abusive language and allusions to past emotional abuse, more angst than I had intended, my undying love for these two idiots, too many feelings

A/N: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her! Sorry everyone, the angst took over this one and what I had intended to be another fun romp a la Girl Fight turned into a pit of emotion that I couldn’t dig myself out of. I’m gonna go cry.

“Baby, you know we can just go home, right?” Ransom gave you a tired but indulgent smile when he looked at you, tucking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes while you swallowed thickly.

“No, I’m not gonna give your mother the satisfaction of seeing me duck out of this thing.” You got that stubborn set to your jaw that told him to quit trying to take care of you, because proving to his bitch mother you could actually make it through one of these stupid events without causing some kind of scene was more important than your comfort right now.

You felt bile rise in your throat and swallowed it again. This was fucking ridiculous, you weren’t even on a boat, just the dock. But you still felt like you were going to vomit at any second, watching the motion of the boats rocking on the water making your gut lurch. It almost made you wonder if Linda knew about your stomach’s aversion to being on water when she had insisted on the two of you attending their fucking sailing club’s final regatta. 

“Here we go, one scopolamine patch.” You could’ve kissed Anne when she handed it to you, grateful that Ben’s boat was moored in this marina so you didn’t have to spend the rest of this stupid thing constantly swallowing your own vomit. “Why didn’t you bring your own?”

“She said she’d be fine if she didn’t actually go on the boats.” Ransom ignored the glare you shot him when he talked to Anne over your head, rubbing your arm softly when he pulled you closer to him.

“Did I tell you how much I hate that you two get along?” You frowned when Ransom pressed his lips to your hair, slapping the patch on your neck and sighing when you felt your stomach start to settle.

Anne just laughed at you, shaking her head as she sipped on her cocktail and leaned against Ben. The fact that this guy actually treated you like you deserved did a lot to endear him to her, even if he was an asshole sometimes.

You had been worried at first about introducing Anne to Ransom’s idiot friends, no matter how much they had grown on you. But your friend could hold her own, her no nonsense attitude endearing her to the girls as she chewed out Logan for some dumbass comment while Dylan and Chaz just chuckled that now there were two of you.

This was one of the few things that you actually felt out of your element with, since you could not give a single fuck about sailing with your stupid seasickness. But you could tell Ran was enjoying himself, and every fucking time he got near the water he looked so fucking windswept and dreamy so it was well worth the nausea. That was all gone now though, the scopolamine making you feel just the tiniest bit drowsy and pleasantly warm while Ran pulled you tight against his chest as he whistled for his team’s boat between nuzzling himself into your hair with pleased little hums. Even Linda giving you some vicious side eye couldn’t break you out of your good mood, the warmth of Ransom wrapped around you like a balm for your typical nervous energy. Then you heard Jess mutter an “oh shit” and the sound of a bratty, whiny voice broke right through your pleasant haze and made your spine stiffen.

“Rannie?” That fucking blonde bitch would show up to something like this, just to ruin your day. “I thought that was you. Oh, still with your tramp, I see.”

“Sloane.” His grip around you grew almost painfully tight, growling into your neck as he did his best to take deep breaths. “Don’t you have some puppies to skin, or something?”

You grabbed his hand and wound your fingers through his as you felt him tense up, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist in an attempt to help him calm down. It had been your sincere hope that after you beat the shit out of this cunt you would never have to see her again, but when had you ever been that lucky?

“Aww, Rannie, thought you couldn’t talk without this bitch’s permission.” She looked mildly uncomfortable when you shifted your gaze to her, your eyes narrowing in a warning that she chose to ignore. “Been missing you a whole lot, baby, when’re you gonna stop slumming around?”

“What the fuck do you want, Sloane?” You were chanting over and over in your head that you were not going to fight this cunt, catching Anne starting to square up from the corner of your eye and giving her a small shake of the head to get her to stand down.

“I’m not talking to you, slut.” She must’ve been drunk, you had definitely taught her her lesson last time. “Just because you can give this bastard a good, sloppy fuck doesn’t mean you get to keep him. You don’t know what he really needs, and he’s too fucking stupid to tell you. God, you’re only sticking with him because he’s such a good fuck, right? That’s like, his only redeeming quality, except for the money. And you and your low class pussy don’t even know what to do with such a fine piece of eye candy.”

“Ok, you need to leave, Sloane.” Ransom may have been full of the anxiety he always felt around his ex, but the way your whole body was wound tight like a spring let him know you were ready to get violent. So he pressed a brief, soothing kiss to your hair and moved to guide this drunk bitch away from another beating.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, god, you really are a fucking moron.” Sloane jerked away from him when he tried to guide her away from your group, turning and sneering derisively at him. “Fuck’s sake, Linda was right, she really should have aborted you so we wouldn’t have to deal with your stupid bull shit.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You reached your arm out to grip Ransom’s shoulder on instinct when he recoiled like he had been slapped, pulling him towards you protectively as you stared disbelieving at the people around you. “What the fuck did she just say?”

Sloane was just grinning at you wickedly as she sipped on her drink, like she had never and would never do anything wrong in her life. You almost forgot your promise you’d made to not get yourself kicked out of this event, but then Ran was clutching at your waist and making a choked sound and you turned back to him with concern.

There was no one to hold back Anne though, and she hadn’t made any promises about being on her best behavior. So she handed Ben her purse and punched that bitch right in the jaw.

You just gave a grateful look to your best friend before she bitch slapped that twat, security already starting to rush towards the fight as you guided Ransom towards the parking lot while he tried to regulate his breathing.

“Baby? Hey, Ran, look at me.” You’d never seen him look so completely lost, his eyes glistening with pent up emotion when you finally got him to look at you and you felt your heart break. “Oh honey, can you make it to the car?” He just nodded at you as another strangled sob escaped his throat and every fiber of your being ached to give him some form of comfort. “Ok, gimme the keys.”

He handed them to you and you wound your arm around him to guide him towards the beemer, letting him lean heavily on your shoulder and murmuring soft, soothing noises to him as you tried to think of something you could do for him. You knew that bitch was an abusive piece of work but Ran had been so hesitant to talk about it and you didn’t want to push him about it before he was ready, but if the way he reacted to her barb was any indication of how she treated him you might end up killing that bitch.

Ransom’s breathing seemed even more ragged by the time you reached the beemer, barely giving you a chance to shove the front seat down so the two of you could climb into the back and you could instruct him to stretch out over your lap. Your own throat was starting to get tight when he let out a wretched sob, the fingers of one hand running through his hair while the other smoothed over his chest as you watched his face closely.

“Baby, I need you to breathe for me, ok?” You were trying your best to keep your voice low and even, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to mirror your actions until he was pressing his face to your stomach with a piteous whine once his breathing had regulated slightly. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, Ran, just keep breathing.” 

He sighed deeply when you continued murmuring soft words of praise to him, his fingers curling over yours on his chest as he looked up at you and felt the softness of your gaze spread like warmth through his body. 

“I’m sorry.” He moaned when you pulled gently on his hair, his voice raspy with the tears he’d managed to swallow.

“No, baby.” You curled over him and brushed your lips over his forehead, trying not to cry when he wrapped his arms around your neck and let out another shaky breath. “You don’t apologize, ever, you hear me?”

“I thought I was over this shit.” He buried his face in your neck and breathed deep, your warm scent washing over him and finally making him relax. “I don’t want to put this on you.”

“Listen to me, Ransom.” You pulled back a little so you could gaze into his eyes, resting your forehead against his and maneuvering until you were laying next to him across the backseat. “I don’t know if you really think I’m just with you for the sex or what, but when I say I love you, I fucking mean it. I love all of you, so much, and that means that you can put all of it on me, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fuck, I love you, too.” He whined when you pressed your lips to his gently, drinking you in and pulling you to him as tight as possible when you let him deepen the kiss. “Need you so much.”

“I know, Ransom, I’m here.” You moved your lips up to his cheeks when he finally let his tears start to fall, kissing each one that stained his cheeks as you splayed your body over his while he held you. “My sweet boy, it’s ok. Let go for me, baby.”

He buried his face in your shoulder and did as you asked. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but you could feel the warm wetness of his tears against the bare flesh of your neck while his chest heaved against yours. You cooed soft words of encouragement into his hair as he wept, letting a few of your own tears fall as you felt the tension slowly seep from his body.

Neither of you were sure how long you laid there tangled with each other, but eventually Ransom felt the last of the pain drain out of him until he was sinking against the seat with exhaustion. Having you there with him was like a balm for his soul, the way your eyes moved to search his once you felt him let out a deep sigh making his lips quirk in a small smile. His eyes were brilliantly blue from the tears he had shed, but you could see a glimmer of something hopeful there, and that made you relax. You sighed when he framed your face with his hands and pulled your lips back to his, the kiss chaste but full of emotion that he was too exhausted to vocalize at the moment.

“You ready to go home?” You pressed your hand over his heart when you leaned back a little, glad to feel that it had slowed down to a normal rhythm as he nodded for you. “Ok, you just stay back here and rest, alright? When we get home I’m gonna draw us a nice bath and we’ll just spend the rest of the day vegging.”

“That sounds good.” He watched you climb back into the front seat with a deep breath, squeezing your hand when you let it linger on his chest before letting you pull it away with reluctance.

You peeked at him through the rear view mirror before pulling out, relieved when you watched his eyes drift closed as he sagged into the seat and let his exhaustion take over. It almost hurt you how much you loved that man, and if you ever saw that cunt who hurt him again, there was a good chance you were going to jail for him.

Ransom was still dozing by the time you pulled up to the house, but he roused quickly when he felt you shake him awake. He let you help him out of the car and smiled warmly at you when you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, humming contentedly when you let him bury his face in your hair as you guided him into the house.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek once you were inside and instructed him to go to the en suite while you got some wine, watching him closely as he headed up the stairs before moving to grab a good bottle from the rack. There was a buzzing from your purse and you pulled out your phone, texting Anne that everything was ok and no, you didn’t need her to smash that bitch’s windows in. She was detailing all the ways she was going to fuck that cunt up and making you chuckle when suddenly the last caller ID you expected flashed across your screen.

“Can I help you with something, Linda?” You poured the Syrah into a decanter and moved to grab a couple of glasses, curious why exactly she was calling you.

“Y/N…” she sounded massively uncomfortable but you could not bring yourself to give a single fuck. “I just… I heard what Sloane said and I wanted to make sure Ransom was alright. He wasn’t answering my calls though.”

“Good for him.” You chewed on your lip as you considered what you wanted to say to her. “Was she lying?”

“What?”

“Did you tell your own child you should have aborted him? Or was that abusive cunt you kept forcing down your son’s throat being a lying bitch?” 

“I never… I didn’t tell him.” She still sounded like she thought she was in the right, and you might have spit in her face if she was in front of you.

“Oh, but you said it, didn’t you?” You sneered and downed the glass of wine you’d poured when you saw her number pop up. She didn’t deny it, and you quickly moved to pour yourself another glass. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Linda.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” You could  practically hear her spine straightening over the phone and you rolled your eyes at her. “You don’t know what it was like trying to raise him. Stubborn and spoiled and…”

“Goodbye, Linda. Don’t fucking call either of us again.” You hung up before she could continue, tossing your phone across the counter and draining your glass before grabbing the decanter and glasses before heading upstairs.

“Hey, baby.” He was already soaking when you walked into the steam filled en suite, his head leaning back against the edge of the drop in tub and giving you a lazy grin. “You have trouble picking a wine?”

“No.” You set the decanter and glasses on the tray at the tub’s edge and pinned your hair off your neck before getting undressed and sliding into the water with him. “I had to talk to your mother.” 

“Oh, you had to?” He pulled you against his chest and sighed when you tucked your face into his neck.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure she didn’t disturb us for the rest of the weekend.” You took a deep breath when he started trailing his fingers over your spine, the warmth of the water seeping through your body and helping you relax as you sank into him. “You wanna talk about what happened?”

“Later.” His arms wound tightly around you, nuzzling into your hair and breathing in the scent of you that always made him feel like he was home. “Just wanna hold you for now.”

[wistfulcynic]

till we be dead ourselves

I saw a thing today that made me a bit cross and reminded me of how unsatisfying I've always found the Brothers Jones reunion in the underworld. This is the result. It's not anti-Liam but it does change him quite a lot from canon, so if that's not your jam you may want to skip this one.

Basically, this is the Brothers Jones I would have liked to see.

Also, at least part of the inspiration came from chatting with @thesschesthair and @winterbythesea about alternative POVs on our OTP. So here, guys, have a Liam. Beware, there are feels. 

SUMMARY: Liam Jones has been waiting for his brother for three hundred years. When he finally arrives, he's not as Liam remembers. Some not-typical or particularly respectful of canon Brothers-Jones-in-the-underworld feels, plus a dash of Captain Swan.

words: 2025 rating: T tags: not canon compliant, underworld AU, brothers jones. Major characters are already dead. 

on AO3

-

till we be dead ourselves: 

He’s been waiting a long time for this. Three hundred years. 

Well, two hundred ninety-three years and eighty-six days, to be precise. He knows because he looked it up. He had to. It’s not easy keeping track of time here; some seconds tick so slowly they’re torture while years can pass in the blink of an eye. 

Years, such as they are. There aren’t really years in this place, or truly ‘time’ at all. There’s not really anything. This is nothingness, a void, a repository for whatever souls are made of, and different to each one. They’re trapped here, these souls, until they finish whatever business still remains for them, and over the centuries he’s seen so many come and go—some sorrowfully confused by what they need to do, others firmly certain. 

As for Liam Jones, he’s always known why he’s here. His unfinished business is Killian. 

On the day Killian arrives Liam can barely contain his excitement. Not just because he may finally be free of this place but because he longs to see his little brother again. He’s missed Killian, and also he’s keen to know what the devil took him so long. How is it possible that his brother’s life stretched on for over three hundred years? 

He walks quickly through the town—an odd little town, unlike any he encountered while alive. His afterlife has manifested it for only a few years. Before that it was ships and ports and then it was jungle. Ships and jungle, jungle and ships for so very, very long. He’s come to realise that his afterlife reflects what his brother does Above, though what precisely that consisted of he is not privileged to know. He’s hoping Killian will tell him. 

He knocks on the door of a large, blue house and waits, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. When it opens he turns with a smile that freezes on his face. 

The man framed in the doorway is his brother, unmistakably him, yet Liam finds he’s not prepared for how much Killian has changed. He feels foolish for being taken so by surprise; of course Killian is not what he remembers. He’s not still the eager young lieutenant he was when Liam died, obviously not. He couldn’t be. 

But the man before him is… hard. Jaw set and eyes cold, with an aura of both danger and command. A man not to be trifled with. His face is still youngish—mid-thirties, perhaps—but his eyes are ancient. Tired and bitter and heavy with the weight of ages, and abruptly Liam feels very, very young. 

“K-killian?” he ventures. 

Killian’s brow wrinkles in confusion that lasts an uncomfortable beat or two, and then it clears. His eyes widen. “Liam,” he breathes. “Is it really you?” 

“It’s me, brother.” Liam attempts a smile again. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Bloody hell.” 

Killian pulls him into a hug which he returns warmly, though the sound of curse words on his brother’s lips has stunned him. He smells of leather, and of the sea. And rum. Liam blinks through a fresh wave of astonishment. Killian has been drinking. Drinking rum. 

Killian pulls back from the hug but keeps his hand on Liam’s shoulder. His eyes are crinkled by a smile that Liam can’t help noticing barely touches the depth of sadness in them. “It’s good to see you, brother,” he says. 

“You’ve changed,” Liam blurts, then curses his impulsive tongue when the smile fades from his brother’s face. 

“Aye,” Killian says. “It’s been some time.” 

“Three hundred years, give or take,” Liam agrees. “How? How was it that long?” 

“Perhaps you’d better come in, Liam,” Killian says. He steps back and holds the door. “We’ve rather a lot to discuss.” 

-

Liam spends that first night in his brother’s house. Killian seems at a bit of a loss for what to do with himself in all the space and curiously reluctant to speak of why his afterlife has manifested such a dwelling just for him. Of course the dead don’t truly sleep, but Liam passes the night deep in thought, still in shock over what he’s learned about life his brother led. 

Killian is Captain Hook. A pirate. A man whose name Liam has heard in hushed whispers on the lips of many a soul who’s passed through this place. None of those whispers spoke of anything good. 

He cannot reconcile his little brother, even three hundred years of bitter loss and violent struggle later, as the cruel and vengeful villain of those tales. He cannot. It’s simply not possible. 

“Much of what they recounted was likely exaggerated,” Killian said wryly, “or hearsay. But I’ve done much I’m not proud of, Liam. I killed men without a second thought. I plundered lands across the realms. I have not led a good life.” 

“Then why are you here?” Liam demanded. “If you were as bad as all that, you wouldn’t end up in limbo.” 

“Perhaps I may have done enough in the past few years to warrant a chance at redemption,” Killian reflected. “I suppose we’ll see.” 

“And do you know what your unfinished business is?” 

Killian swallowed visibly, then nodded. “I believe I do.” 

-

Over the next week Liam keeps an eye on his brother. It’s not that he’s concerned—well, yes, it is that he’s concerned. There’s a restless energy to Killian that makes Liam uneasy, worried that he might do something rash. So he watches, from a distance, as Killian sets about finishing his business. He watches his brother seek out many of the men who bore the tales about him, those who still remain at least. He sees the fear in those men’s faces, and the anger. Sometimes he hears their voices, raised and vicious. It pains him to witness these things—not least the shame on Killian’s face—but he forces himself not to interfere. 

His brother is not a man to be trifled with. 

One day he observes Killian deep in conversation with a woman, dark-haired and statuesque. They stand close together in the manner of those who’ve shared a deep intimacy, and even from a distance he can see that they are crying. Killian pulls the woman into his arms where she weeps into his shoulder, and before they part he presses his lips to hers. 

It’s farewell. 

With every interaction Killian’s burden lessens, though he remains weighed down by things Liam can barely fathom. Each night they meet at the blue house, where they sit together and talk. They have three hundred years of catching up to do. As they talk Killian drinks, and Liam has begun to as well. He senses his brother could use company in more than conversation, and it’s not like alcohol can harm the dead. It doesn’t do them much good either, but the phantom rum seems to soothe Killian, and loosen his tongue. 

Though not enough, Liam comes to realise, for Killian to speak of why he’s really here. 

-

Her arrival sparks an uproar such as Liam has never experienced, even in all the time he’s passed in this place. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be here. It’s not possible. 

Yet here she is. 

Word of it spreads like wildfire; Liam is polishing glasses at the bar where he inexplicably works when it reaches his ears. 

“They say she’s alive,” says one of the regulars, in hushed tones. “Alive, and here.” 

“That’s impossible,” Liam scoffs. “None of the living can come here. And even if they could why would they want to?” 

“She’s here to rescue someone,” the regular replies. “Her true love. That makes it possible, or so they say.” 

“And the man died in sacrifice,” another adds. “Huge sacrifice, before his time.” 

Before his time, Liam thinks. That should rule Killian out. Yet he can’t shake this feeling, this creeping suspicion born of Killian’s refusal to discuss how he died, or how he lived these past few years. There’s a reason this town is his afterlife, and Liam’s too. There’s a reason he’s alone in that big house. 

He sets the glass down, and the rag. “I have to go,” he says. 

-

It couldn’t be more obvious that the woman doesn’t belong. She’s visibly, ostentatiously alive, so full of life she glows. It draws the souls—ghoulishly, Liam thinks—but none dare approach too closely. The woman looks as though if anyone could kill a soul that’s already dead, it’s her. 

She heads down Main Street and Liam follows. Past the diner and the library, around the corner and up the street where Killian lives. A tight knot forms in Liam’s chest as she walks up to the blue house then stops, with her hand on the gate. 

The door flies open and Killian appears on the porch. He stares at the woman, who offers him a smile that strikes Liam as far too tremulous for her take-no-prisoners demeanour. 

“Swan,” Killian chokes. His voice sounds broken. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to save you,” the woman replies. She opens the gate and takes a few steps forward. Killian stumbles off the porch to close the distance between them. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says. “You shouldn’t be here, not here. Not you.” 

“I had to, Killian!” She looks up at him imploringly. “You shouldn’t have died like that. You shouldn’t have had to make that choice.” 

She takes his hand and laces their fingers tighter. Killian’s breath catches. “Come back with me, Killian. Come home.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“You can. I know a way.” Her voice drops as she steps closer, but Liam can still hear her words. “Don’t try to make me live the rest of my life without you, Killian Jones,” she says. “I won’t do it.” 

“Swan—” 

“I won’t do it,” she repeats. “I love you.” 

Liam can see the moment Killian breaks. He snatches the woman into his arms, holds her tightly as she clings to him and magic twines palpably around them. This is not what he had with the brunette, Liam realises. That was love, yes, and intimacy. It was grief, deep and terrible but of a normal sort. 

This is agony. This is two souls that should never have been parted and the connection that still binds them, so powerful it can draw a living woman into the land of the dead. 

No wonder Killian couldn’t speak of her, Liam thinks, or of the circumstances of his death. The pain must have been too great. 

Liam’s been dead so long he’s forgotten how sensitive a subject it can be. 

The man died in sacrifice, he recalls. Huge sacrifice, before his time. 

He died for her. And now she’s here to bring him back. 

-

“This feels too soon,” Killian says, as he hugs Liam tight. “I only just found you again.” He pulls back and gives his brother a shrewd look. “And I sense that when I’m here again, you no longer will be.” 

“No,” Liam agrees. His business is finished now. And Killian’s not coming back, not to this place. Not if Emma Swan has anything to say about it. The next time Killian Jones dies it will be with his life’s purpose fully met. 

He’s glad they had this time, though, and not just because he needed it to move on. He’s glad he got to know his brother as a man, a flawed and troubled one, yes, but one who has goodness at his core and is finally where he needs to be. It only took three hundred years for him to get there. 

He’s also glad Killian is still shorter than he is, for all that Liam appears ten years younger than his brother now. He’s glad because he can still wrap his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffle his hair. He does so now, though Killian’s indignant “Oi!” of protest twists his heart. He sounds so like his younger self, that boy Liam spent centuries waiting for and will never see again. 

“I love you, little brother,” he whispers. 

Killian swallows hard, and nods. “I love you too.” 

[gra-sonas]

So just wanted to tell you how cute I found your answer to an ask where you asked are you a terrible Alex fan if you wanna see him hurt. To me that is usually a reason why I watch a TV show cause I just love the hurt/comfort storylines 😅 To this day I think one of my most favourite Teen Wolf episodes is Motel California cause that scene where Stiles is possessed and is trying to hurt himself is just pure perfection. This is one of those emotional whumps that I love. I kinda think those scenes really show how good of an actor someone is. So yeah to me you're not terrible for wanting some hurt and comfort with his OTP after that 🥰 But maybe I am weird so I'm not a representative person to judge 😅

Haha, thank you, nonnie! 🥰 [Sorry that it took so long to answer, but this turned out longer than intended and... uhm... see for yourself? 😳]

I'm usually a huge fan of the hurt/comfort trope (my favorite Sterek fic is the most perfect h/c fic ever), but it pains me (ha!) to think about Alex or Michael getting hurt in any way. 🥺 I want them to have nice things, wrap them in fluffy blankets in front of a cozy fire and feed them hot chocolate.

I think I handle h/c better in fic, bc it all only happens in my head, but seeing Alex or Michael hurt on screen? 😱

Like... [h/c ficlet, blood cw, implied temporary almost!character death, NO ONE DIES]

Michael is sobbing in agony because Alex is bleeding from a chest wound he just can't stop from spilling fresh blood. Alex goes limp in Michael's arms, and he can barely hear Alex breathe any longer.

Michael frantically presses his hand on Alex's wet chest in a poor attempt to apply pressure, but the blood continues to seep into the fabric of Alex's jacket and turns it an ugly shade of dark copper.

Michael is so desperate, he's whispering Alex's name over and over, calling him every endearment under the sun just to get a reaction from him but Alex can't hear him because he's already unconscious. Or worse.

Michael kisses Alex's clammy lips and whispers "I love you, please, Alex, don't leave me. I don't want to live without you. I can't!"

Michael tries to think of something. Anything to save Alex, tears are spilling from his eyes and he can barely see when—

Suddenly, he knows with absolute clarity what to do. He fumbles with his free hand to open the buttons of Alex's bloody jacket before he hits the next barrier. He tears the shirt Alex is wearing to shreds with a single thought and looks at Alex's bloody chest in an attempt to locate the wound. To no avail.

Without further thinking he places his left hand - the one Jesse Manes mangled, the one that Max healed, the one Michael's kept hidden from the world (and his own eyes) for more than two years under greasy bandanas, the one Alex kissed so tenderly when he took the bandana off for good just last night - on Alex's chest, ignores how slippery the blood makes everything, closes his eyes, and then—

His hand starts getting warm. And warmer. It's getting hot, he blinks his eyes open, and his hand is glowing a deep and pulsing red.

Not a second to waste, Michael pushes with everything he has, every ounce of love he feels for Alex, begging for all the stars to align, and the universe to aid him in his quest to save the person he loves more than life itself. He's screaming now, desperate to push Alex away from the brink of death.

He has no idea how long it takes, but suddenly he feels Alex stir in his arms, he's taking a deep gasping breath, he opens his eyes and stares at Michael. "What?"

Michael collapses and falls on his back, pulling Alex with him into the safety of his embrace. He feels like he's about to vomit, but after a few deep breaths, the nausea caused by the overuse of his powers is manageable. Alex struggles against his tight grip.

"Michael? Michael, what's going on? Are you okay? And why is my chest wet?"

"Gimme a second," Michael mumbles. Alex turns in his arms until he faces Michael.

"Michael, have I been shot?"

Michael nods, which isn't a good idea because another wave of nausea hits him.

"And you healed me? Or was it a resurrection?"

"Not sure, you stopped breathing," Michael mumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut before he tries talking again. "Nail polish remover. Backpack," he gets out before he has to stop. The back of his throat tastes like bile.

Alex scrambles to get up on his knees. He looks around and sees the backpack Michael dropped on a nearby chair. He stretches to reach one of the backpack straps and pulls. The backpack topples over and falls down on the floor. Alex drags it across the floor until he can reach inside. He pulls a bottle of nail polish remover out, uncaps it, and turns around to Michael.

He holds the bottle softly pressed against Michael's lips until he's able to take a couple of carefully measured sips. About five minutes later, he's feeling a little less peckish, and he's able to tell Alex what's happened. They are lying on the floor again, facing each other and holding hands.

When Michael's finished, Alex looks down at his chest. "This is incredible, Michael. I don't feel any different than before. Only that my shirt is kind of glued to my chest hair in places. But other than that, there's no pain, nothing," he says, in awe of Michael's new ability.

He leans forward to press his lips against Michael's in a tender kiss. "I also feel you," he whispers. "It's like you're a part of me. It's this golden presence, I don't know how better to describe it."

Michael smiles at him. "I love that. According to Max, I should also be able to share memories with you. I'm just not sure if that uses up more power, and I'm still feeling pretty weak."

Alex captures Michaels stubbly cheek in his hand. "There's no rush, baby. Let's go home when you can walk again. And then we have a lifetime together to explore everything we can do with this new ability and you leaving handprints on me."

"Home and a lifetime together with you? That's all I've ever wanted, Alex."

Alex winks at him. "I know."

"A lifetime of Star Wars references sounds like heaven to me," Michael chuckles. "Let's go home, Chewie."

[mypersonmyg]

me and you | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, a smidge of angst

rating: pg

wc: 1.3k

warnings: just a lil angst

summary: you ask yoongi about your future OR yoongi nearly breaks a leg in the university parking lot

a/n: evenin folks, tis the first day of drabble month! i wrote this drabble as a pairing to the ole Nom De Plume couple though it can be read as a standalone if you so choose :D

prompt 1. A - Age. Do the otp+ plan on spending their lives together? How do they imagine their relationship years from now?

november drabbles masterlist

main masterlist

Nom De Plume

Yoongi’s digits move agile against practiced keys, pouted lips pulling between worrying teeth. Your eyes drink him in, a cool autumn’s eve, the dancing of fireflies beneath a night left to glisten in the wake of a reflective moon. You tug loosened sleeves, sweater hugging against a chilled frame, and legs pulled to your chest with a wistful sigh. His movements continue without pause, but limitless pupils regard you with diversion as Yoongi’s lips betray a grin of unbridled warmth.

“You’re tired,” It’s a statement. His tone is endeared, but his intent teasing, earlier discourse upon the late hour leading you to the abandoned music hall to begin with. 

“I’m comfortable.” Your counter is followed by the lengthening of heavy limbs, voice strained against the prolonged stretch. Yoongi hums, followed by the flat tones of a piano half tuned. You pull your nose to a scrunch, the deafening keys appearing even more so with its echo into the hollow halls. “You’re losing your touch, Min.”

“Very funny, more like these pianos are losing theirs. I swear this place needs to put more budget into the actual instruments,” You’re aware of the serious tone, but frustration flushes puffed cheeks and you find yourself pushing from your seat to pad over to your flustered partner. 

You round slouched shoulders, arms dangling around Yoongi’s taught frame, the perfect view of his fingers prodding at sticky keys. Your lips fall to the apple of his cheek before the burying of  heavy eyes into the crook of his neck, warm from the scarf still dangling. 

“Mmmh, what are you gonna do about it?” You egg him on, arms rubbing the expanse of his sweatshirt. 

“I’m gonna take you home before I have to carry you.” He grabs hold of one of your hands, pressing soft lips to the delicate skin of your palm. He rises on converse feet not once releasing you from his steady grip, “You’re practically swaying on your feet.”

“I’m just enjoying the music.”

“I don’t hear any music, baby.”

“Your voice is music to my ears, babe.” You sing-song, following the light pull of Yoongi’s arm to the door. His groan is exasperated, followed easily by your melodious chuckle, his dark head bowing to the worn linoleum. 

Your path to the parking lot is filled with comfortable quiet, the revel in your respective company enough to fill the minute space between. The biting chill of the evening air pulls you to grasp Yoongi as close as possible, legs forced to a wobble as your steps echo against freezing concrete. 

“Do you think this will last?” Your voice is but a whisper, chords shying away from the wind not withheld by your scarf, woolen fabric itching at your neck. Yoongi hums in response, attention not all there as his gaze travels the expanse before you. “Do you think we’re gonna be together when we leave all of this behind? Or do you just see this as a school thing?”

You find your feet nearly tangled as Yoongi trips over himself. It takes but a moment for you to steady your strides, Yoongi gathering distance as he regains his footing. You’re in the midst of a car-less lot, catching your breath as Yoongi adjusts his jacket, hand brushing through his hair. 

“Are you okay?” You step forward to close the distance, hand easily finding Yoongi’s in silent tandem. He nods though his pupils are blown, you’re sure if the bottom of his face were visible the parting of his lips would give way to his bewilderment at your sudden inquiry. 

“I’m fine I just-do… do you think we won’t be together?” It’s the shift in his tone that clues you in to his wild thoughts. You’re quick to lead him to the car, the reprieve of the heated interior doing little to ease the growth of tension that has wormed between two melded souls. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You stare straight ahead, Yoongi busying with the turning of dials to warm you further. “I just...I mean we’re graduating soon and we haven’t really talked about it.”

“I didn’t know it was something that we needed to discuss.” He’s rigid and you’re mortified, an accidental hiccup in an evening otherwise untouched. Silence stretches over, your body falling victim to the itch of discomfort, the heat suddenly too much. Yoongi’s hands rest against the wheel, his breathing even and audible over the whir of the engine.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to make it a thing--”

“Yes.” Yoongi cuts through your words, not with volume, but sheer conviction. You fight the pull of fabric against your collar, turning to him with ducts threatening to spill over. Despite the words settling like golden leaves against dying greenery, you can’t help but prompt the necessity for unnecessary clarification driving you on. 

“What?”

“We’ll be together. After college and beyond this hell hole,” He chuckles at his own words, gums catching reflection under the invasion of fluorescent street lamps. “I’ve been faced with a reality without you in it and I’m positive I never want to go back to it. You say things like my voice is like a song and my smile is what keeps you going and I don’t always reciprocate but I hope you know that you’re that and so much more to me.” 

“I do, I know.” You assure, hand reaching over the center console, landing against the expanse of his thigh.

“Well, did you know that sometimes I still sit outside of the practice room? I just listen and think about how we got here, how I got lucky enough to be here.” Your head swivels barely coherent, a small gasp conjuring the tiniest cloud from the still thawing vehicle. “Or that whenever I come in for coffee and I see you standing behind that damn counter I think about the day all of this started, and then you look at me and it feels like I’ve been punched in the chest.” 

“I hope you mean that in a good way,” You squeak, still stunned at the ongoing admission. 

“You knock the breath out of me, babe. I guess that’s why I was taken by surprised because if I’m not making you feel the same way then we’ve got a pretty big problem.” 

You don’t bother trying to respond with a  thought of the intelligible, Yoongi robbing you of any possible chance the moment he began speaking. Instead your hands come to grip puffed cheeks, unaware that you aren’t the only one overpowered with raw emotion until you feel the dampness of soft skin. Your forehead pushes against his, noses meeting and breaths mingling. 

“I love you,” Is all you manage and you know that it’s enough. Know that it’s enough because of the way Yoongi’s lips press against yours in an instant. 

The pressure is late night conversations, the occasional peck befalling heated cheeks, it’s breakfast in bed as the threat of a skipped class looms. It’s a pressure that reminds you that your flow is his and his is yours, no questions asked and none needing to be answered. It fills the crevice of uncertainty that cracked unaware beneath your skin, feeding off of remedied events past.

Suddenly too much heat is not enough and Yoongi is pulling away, breath labored and hands once more against the wheel. His gaze is forward and cheeks dusted with lustful blush. He offers you only a glance, unable to hold for longer than a minute without threat of once more closing lengthened distance.

“I should get you home, you have an early class.” 

“Mmmm or you could let me stay over,” You suggest, cheeky nature about you once more. Yoongi’s grip tightens, lip pulling inwards in a contemplative gnaw. “I’ll sleep better.” 

“Hmm sleep, right.” His throat clears as he pulls from the lot. “So...are we good?”

“I was thinking that we could move to the city,” Is your response, the Yoongi smiling straight ahead, hand finding yours to once more grace with the skin of his lips. He doesn’t respond, knows the action is enough as you continue to speak and he continues to listen, affectionately offered and received with mutual adoration. 

“Whatever you want, babe, I’m in it for the long haul.”

[failedintsave]

I have something else for Favorite Character that I may post tonight if I can finish it, but just in case here's OTP!

Get a Hobby

A short drive from Mordhaus, tucked away in a drab, beige strip mall between a busy print shop and a quilting supply stood a small hobby store with only two dedicated parking spaces. The sign named it Valhalla's Gate, which had been sufficient to pique Skwisgaar's curiosity when Toki had asked if he wanted to tag along that afternoon. He was out of modeling glue, and Skwisgaar was just bored enough to need to get out for a while.

Though the shop was modest in size, the plate glass windows out front were anything but, plastered in bright posters depicting hulking barbarian warriors and scantily clad female knights with elven features. Their so-called armor looked ridiculous, Skwisgaar thought as he trailed Toki towards the door, what vital organs could a steel bikini possibly protect? Sexy though, he shrugged. That had to count for something, aesthetic was important.

The clear, tinkling chime of a bell announced their entrance as Toki led the way through the door, waving at the bored cashier and striding with purpose towards the back wall and its rows of tubes and tiny pots hanging from the pegboard. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Skwisgaar opted to meander through the aisles.

Boxes of modeling kits lined the shelves, stacked one atop the next; cars, planes and tanks in shrink wrapped cardboard. He browsed past a modest library of books, their glossy spines emblazoned with 'dungeons' this, and 'monsters' that, manuals and compendiums and indexes. Rounding the end cap brought him to a wall of board games in a prismatic spray of colors.

"You wants I should grabs you one of dese candyland games for baby dildoes?" Skwisgaar called out, the store small enough he was sure Toki could hear him. "Pickle wonts play Scrabble no mores cuz he t'inks we ams cheatingks. Pfff, racist."

No response. Fine, he didn't want to see what Cones of Dunshire was about anyways.

Continuing his wandering route, Skwisgaar followed the sound of voices and peeked around a curtained partition to where a group of school-aged kids sat at a long folding table, monitored by a second, harried-looking employee.

"My Stonehoof Chieftain has trample, so that's still five points to you!"

"You can't use it this turn, it has summoning sickness!"

"Right, sorry, got excited."

That string of words made no sense to him at all, and he withdrew, giving a carousel hung with tiny figures in plastic clamshell packaging a spin as he passed.

The last unexplored aisle appeared to be much like the others, decks of cards and gridded mats rolled up like tubes of wrapping paper. An entire length of shelf was dedicated to clear acrylic drawers full of many-faced dice in an array of materials and finishes. Further matched sets of dice were collected in glass bottles, arranged in neat colorful rows like potions at an apothecary. But the last stretch of the display was what finally caught Skwisgaar's eye.

A handwritten sign on neon orange poster board read "Bestiary: Adventurers Beware!" Beneath the proclamation lay a veritable menagerie of creatures, each formed in painstaking detail but lacking any pigment. He reached past the stony golems and rearing hydras, grabbing the largest figure from the back of the display.

The dragon's mouth was open in a roar, baring fearsome teeth and preparing to belch fire upon any who dare trespass his domain. The leathery wings were unfurled, aloft in an arc, the webbing tipped with bony spines and vast enough to summon hurricane force gusts.

He sensed Toki at his elbow before the younger man spoke, quickly shoving the toy back onto the shelf, knocking a few others onto their sides in his haste.

Toki peeked past him at the display, "Looking at minis?"

"You done? Dis store ams dildoes." Ignoring the question, Skwisgaar jammed his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. "Even de toys am borings, look dey's all plain gray."

"Cuz you gots to paints dem! Dey for tabletop games, you makes dem look however you wants."

"Tch, sound like a wastes of time. Could spends dat better pracksticing."

Humming noncommittally, Toki considered the model, leaning so that his chest pressed against the back of Skwisgaar's arm. He plucked the dragon from among its lessers and dropped it into the wire shopping basket hanging from his wrist. With a quick look in both directions, he craned his neck, planting a tiny, brief peck on Skwisgaar's cheek before moving off towards the register.

"C'mon, I gots some good paints at home you can use. We can makes him look real ferocious." He disappeared around the corner, the punctuated beeps of his purchases being rung up cutting through the quiet of the store.

Skwisgaar couldn't help the small smile that pulled at his lips as he shuffled off in Toki's wake, cheek still tingling. Maybe practice could wait. For today.

[another-snape-story]

Time to Face the Truth and Accept It

Chapter XVIII

A terrible headache awoke the memories of the previous night, once you opened your eyes to a dimly lit room, waves of nausea adding to your misery. You still felt sick. Looking around you recognized your own room, recalling on Severus – a saint man! – who helped you cover the distance from his office right to your chambers, since you were barely able to stand on your feet. Good you didn’t choose your office for this nightly get-together.

You also remembered… kissing him goodnight at your door… Just a little peck on the cheek, yet your heart fluttered as you revived soft sensation of his skin against your lips. You were falling for him – it was too obvious to be ignored.

You liked all-consuming feeling of safety his being around provided. His confidence and composure – the way he carried himself promised there was nothing beyond his power to overcome any of the difficulties. You admired this aspect of his character, but there also was another side he was so reluctant, even wary to reveal, the side you craved to know better.

Drifting with the current of pleasant thoughts, you closed your eyes. The image of a man who stirred up delightful excitement in your soul gradually took shape out of the darkness. His peculiar features you found so attractive reappeared from the back of your mind building up a lucid picture of the face so dear to your heart, and with it desire to see him again.

Wondering if you were not too intrusive, you let out a frustrated growl. Perhaps, you should’ve given him more space? Work – that’s what you had to focus on!

Excited voices reaching from behind the door reminded you about the Quidditch match scheduled for today.

“Ugh, really?” you frowned, realizing you’ve overslept and had no time for the morning routine so much needed in your current condition. Reluctantly, you pulled the blanket off, and – since it was everything you were capable of – remained lying flat, staring at the ceiling and regretting you couldn’t stay like that forever.

Dull pain pierced your brain again when you made an attempt to get up. Each turn of the head caused the same effect. You slowly crawled to the bathroom, stepping over clothes scattered on the floor, which you took no trouble putting in a wardrobe.

A splash of cold water on your face felt refreshing. Pulling yourself together now didn’t seem so impracticable, yet it still required some effort.

Meanwhile, Snape was calling his Slytherins to order in the Entrance Hall. He had no wink of sleep last night – your midnight chatter and a kiss (!) deprived him of any. His mind worked frantically trying to comprehend your words along with a storm of emotions fluctuating from thrill to frustration and vice versa. If it were not for the heavy burden he’s been bearing on his shoulders through all those years, he would probably find himself in a state of extreme, euphoric happiness, but ghosts of the past seemed to haunt him forever. Now even more perceptibly – with Potter boy being an eyesore.

Snape was hoping to find you in the crowd. Although he knew it was pointless in such a bustle of students, his glance chaotically jumped over their heads searching for you.

“You can’t go outside without a coat, Mr. Derrick,” Professor stopped 4th year Slytherin halfway. “Go fetch it. Now.”

The guy grunted, yet obeyed.

“Neither are you an exception, Miss Gordon.” Snape watched the girl follow her classmate.

The both almost ran into you when you showed up in the doorway. Struck by a mishmash of loud excited voices you were nearly blacking out from another painful spasm.

Snape’s heart gave a jolt once he saw you and instantly his expression softened.

“Off you go now,” he waved his head in direction of the exit. “And keep in mind – you are the pinnacle of evolution, the crown of creation, there’s no need to squash your way through. But if you do, however, at least perform with dignity.”

First you became aware of his voice, only then you spotted the man. His witty recommendation made you giggle. Separated by a throng of enraptured kids, eyes locked on his, you smiled broadly, waiting them to pass by.

“Do you feel as good as you look?” you asked not without a twinge of envy when you finally reunited.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I mean…” you realized you might’ve sounded flirty, which nowise was your intention. “You look so fresh and rested! Unlike me…” you sighed rubbing your temple.

“I thought you’ve heard about magic,” Snape arched his eyebrow the way he always did trying to banter you. “Must’ve been mistaken…”

“Oh, don’t,” you cut him short in a good-hearted manner. “Save your lectures for another occasion. I feel miserable enough…”

“Can’t wait to see Gryffindor finally beat Slytherin!” impatient about the match and paying no attention to her surrounding, Professor McGonagall headed for the exit in a determined step, eagerly sharing her expectations with Professor Flitwick as they walked past you.

“Oh…” Filius noticed his colleague whose appearance suggested he was more than unimpressed. “I’m sorry, Severus… Ahem… I’d better hurry to catch up with the rest,” the short man awkwardly pointed at the door and receded from view.

“Just like children in a sandbox,” you rolled your eyes, but seeing Snape’s narrow squint exclaimed in disbelief, “You’re not going to join them, are you?”

He didn’t answer chasing his rivals with a killing stare representing the best of its kind.

“Come on, we’d better hurry up too.”

“Wait,” Snape held you back. “Here,” he took a small vial out of his pocket and handed it to you. “It should help with your… condition.”

“How did you… No, don’t tell,” Snape’s chest shielding you from curious eyes and unwanted encounters, you stealthily raised the potion to your mouth – as if it was something illegal – and drank it in one gulp. Surprisingly, alleviation was not long in coming. You felt much better at once. The vise which squeezed your brain so severely now loosened and a light pleasant breeze gently blew the pain away. You closed your eyes for a moment enjoying fantastic relief.

Surprised how resolutely you emptied the vial without even asking what was inside, Snape smiled to himself. You’ve never made an impression of being credulous, this could only mean the level of trust you had for him was more than he would ever expect, and it melted his heart.

“Better?”

“I’m back from the dead!” you cheered.

“Didn’t reckon porcupine’s nasal mucus would have such a fast effect,” he said monotonously, “hm… I should take a note…”

“You’re lying!” you laughed. “There was no porcupine’s nasal mucus there!”

The man’s face remained plain.

“Snape!” you frowned, “there was no anyone’s snot in there! Or was it?”

“Of course it wasn’t, for Merlin’s sake!” he smirked, contented he managed to hoax you.

“I hate you!” you jokingly bumped against his shoulder and your arm gently slid under his. “Shall we?” With this you set in motion.

Snape couldn’t focus on anything but a slight pressure at his elbow caused by your contact. It was unusual yet so gratifying. Each moment beside you restored his soul which was once shattered to pieces.

The majority of students were far ahead. Outpaced by rare fall-behinds, you walked unhurriedly, enjoying tranquility of the place and each other’s company.

“The world seems to be a better place in the daylight,” you said, admiring the scenery.

“Curious it is,” Snape agreed. “Our demons which appear so real in the dark are less visible under the sun.”

“Isn’t it because we are more of our true selves in nighttime?” you fell silent for an instant. “I like your true self…”

Snape smiled sadly. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough. Enough to consider you a good man, enough to trust you, enough to call you a friend…”

“Do not delude yourself,” he answered quietly.

“Am I deluding myself?” you resented. “Aren’t you doing the same denying my words?”

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps.”

“You brighten my days here, okay? And you seem to enjoy our little chats too so far, don’t you?”

“I do,” he gave in.

“So, please, shut up then and let me love you the way you are!” you tightened your grip on his arm.

Snape’s heart pounded in his ears threatening to jump out of his chest. He’s never heard anything even close to what you just said in his entire life. He wished he could tell you how much you meant for him, but he failed to articulate the simple truth. Afraid to look vulnerable, he preserved nonchalant façade.

“You said you hated me not so long ago.”

“Shut up, Snape. Just shut up.” Your lips stretched in a smile and so did his.

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Tag: @diaryofafan17 @yul-is-sparkling @fullmoonshadowwrites @forthehonourof @amywright @redrehab @space-helen @fluffymadamina nadiigh @theworldisugly-22 @lukaerith-morningstar @sighsinkhuzdul @67-chevy-baby @rustypotatospork @aquila-leo @dandyrua @majusketch @sevyythebeanqueen @writingmi @s00nhi @pinkininja @shizuethedragon @chocolattefrog awkwardaxelotl @bionic-otp @samnblack @sailorstupidsblog @purpledragonturtles @xwaterproofx @lokistann @psycho-howell @planetmystery @lovelyravenkite @taschaschwarz @grimrapper11 @xpissbabyx @lullabylike green-forest-dreams brujaporfavor @severuslovebot

[tooyoungngolden]

Prompt:

Person A and person B of your OTP share an apartment, but they have separate rooms. Person B had a nightmare one night and is really rattled by it. They get out of bed and walk down the hallway to knock on person As door. The door is already open so person B walks in the room silently. They go up to person A bed to find them still sleeping soundly, they don’t want to wake them so person B goes to leave but kicks something which wakes up person A. Person B tells person A they had a nightmare, person A moves over and let’s person B get in the bed with them where they fall asleep curled up together.

——

Y/N woke with a start. Her chest rising and falling as fat globs of wet tears fell down her cheeks. It’s been ages since she’s had a nightmare that scared her so much it’s woken her up. It’s been ages since she’d had any nightmares about him.

Y/N couldn’t breath, every time she tried to breath her crying would start up again and the air she so desperately needed was forced out of her lungs- she was starting to panic, short puffs of air coming out of her lungs and catching in her throat. She needed something. She needed someone.

——

Y/N and Harry had lived together ever since he helped her get away from a particularly nasty ex that she thought she would be spending the rest of her life with- that was a little over two years ago. Now they lived together in their shared apartment in complete harmony, with no arguing- well, about anything serious- and complete love and most of all safety. She loved Harry, had realised that a couple months after moving in with him, he provided so much support and care that she didn’t think anything of it to begin with. Thought it was a coping mechanism, after a couple months she began to realise that she loved him. With every fibre of her being she wanted to be with Harry. She didn’t tell him of course, didn’t want him to feel any pity. That wasn’t what she was after.

Harry had helped Y/N through so much that falling in love with him was inevitable. And that’s exactly what Y/N did. She fell completely and utterly in love with the person that she called her best friend. That was nearly two years ago.

Now here she is, silent tears rolling down her face, pulling her duvet off her legs and falling out her bed, with one of Harry’s T-shirt’s falling down to her thick thighs she shuffled out the room, and down the hallway to Harry’s doorway. She peaked at his door, noticing that it was slightly ajar she pushed it open wider and glanced into the room. Harry was laying in his bed, duvet up to his chest breathing. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep so she shuffled closer to his bed to check, he’s eyes were shut tightly and he’s breathing was even. He was sleeping soundly- beautiful dark eyelashes resting against his flawless cheeks and he was breathing deeply. Y/N didn’t want to disturb him, he’d been working so hard that his sleep patterns were completely ruined, so seeing him sleeping so soundly now made her realise that she was not going to be selfish and wake him up.

Y/N turned around and began her quite shuffle out of Harry’s bedroom. She however failed to see the metal water bottle that rested on the floor next to Harry’s bed. It hit the floor and with the room being so quite the sound of metal hitting hard wood echoed around the room, waking Harry from his sleep.

“Shit!” Y/N whispered, bending down to stop the bottle from rolling away under Harry’s bed. She groaned in her head, if Harry wasn’t already awake, he definitely was now. She looked up and noticed that Harry was waking up.

“Y/N? What’s the matter love?” He groaned. Reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. His voice was so deep, still groggy with sleep, Harry’s voice was always deep when he’d just woken up. She loved that about him.

Y/N blushed, “I’m sorry H. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just leaving,” she goes to turn around but doesn’t get far before she feels Harry’s rough hands gently grip her wrist.

“Hey, come on love. Talk to me, what’s happened. I can tell you’ve been crying.” He murmured, his thumb gently running along her wrist.

Y/N looked down at her feet, the fluffy socks that Harry had brought her for her birthday were suddenly more interesting than actually talking about why she was in Harry’s room. She whined in the back of her throat, tears once again coming to her eyes. She didn’t want to.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter?” Harry gently pulled her so she was sitting on the side of his bed instead of standing next to it, he sat up, moving closed to her so that he could put his arms around her back, rubbing her sides gently, he waited until she was ready to tell him what had happened.

“I had a nightmare,” she whispered, not meeting Harry’s eyes. Not wanting to elaborate she just stated that simple fact. Harry knew what all of her nightmares were about anyway, they were always about the same thing.

“About,” Harry can’t even say it. Won’t say his name. He can’t “him, right love?” Harry whispered back. Not wanting to raise his voice or talk any louder in case it startled her even more than she already was,

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna be alone but you were asleep so I was going to leave, I didn’t want to disturb you because I know you’ve been working and you haven’t been sleeping right-“ she started rambling, she always did once she had a nightmare, she always thought she’d done something wrong.

Harry hushed her, interrupting her rambling with a quite “shhh love, you can always come to me. I’ll never turn you away. You know that right?” He rubbed her back. Thumb still working over her wrist.

She nodded. Not sure what to say now that he was awake. She wasn’t sure what she was even going to say. Harry once again interrupt her thoughts,

“You wanna sleep in here with me? We can cuddle and you can get some rest, yeah?” Harry asked. Wanting her to be comfortable and rested. He hated seeing her like this. Always had.

“Can I?” Y/N whispered.

“Always, love,” Harry moved over. His bed was definitely big enough to have them both in comfortably but he always knew she liked to be held after a nightmare this bad. He lifted the duvet up so she could slide her legs under and lay down on the pillow he was sleep on not 10 minutes before.

Y/N loved the smell of Harry’s bed. His scent always made her feel so much better, chased away all of the negative thoughts that surrounded her after she would have a nightmare. She particularly loved Harry’s scent when it was coming from the man himself. That’s why as soon as Harry lays down beside her, she buries her head in his neck and breaths as deep as she possibly can, Harry’s arms wrap around her, pulling her as close to him as he can.

“You okay love?” Harry murmurs in her ear.

She doesn’t respond using words, she just nods her head without even looking up at him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Harry asks gently, he doesn’t want to pry and make her worse. He wants her to confide in him.

“Can you sing me something? Some nice?” She asks into the skin on his neck,

“Of course I can love, do you want anything else? Some water maybe, my bottles on the floor.” he replies back, voice just as soft.

“No,” she mumbles into his neck. She lifts her head slightly, “jus’ want you to hold me.”

“That’s exactly what I’ll do love,” Harry says back. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here. Not going anywhere,” he states

Y/N nods her head. Lowering it back down so that her nose is in his neck and his arms tighten around her back, his voice starts up with one of their favourite songs, his chest rumbling slightly with his words, it makes her feel comfortable, most importantly it makes her feel loved. She’s drifting back into the depths of sleep when she pretty sure Harry pressed his lips to her forehead and murmurs “love you” she’s not sure though.

It could just be the lack of sleep.

——

The clock on Harry’s bedside reads 8:07 AM the next time she wakes up. It’s been 5 hours since she crawled her way into Harry’s bed and his arms were still tightly wrapped around her waist. She was however, facing the other way so now her back was to Harry and her ass was pushed up against his crotch. She didn’t mean to but she pushed her ass into him as she stretched to turn around to face him.

Harry was still sleeping when she settled back down, clearly not disturbed but her shuffling and moving around, even though she was lying right next to him. She looked up at his face, the slight rays of sun peaking in through his blind made his face glow in a golden light, made him look like an angel. She had always thought he was beautiful but this moment in time? He was absolutely breathtaking.

She lifted her hand up, running her fingers gently over his cheek that wasn’t pressed against the pillow, down to his lips. Her thumb grazed his lips and she barely murmured the words “beautiful, golden man” before she realised that he wasn’t hers to touch. No matter how much she wanted to, he hadn’t given her permission to touch him. Y/N looked up to see that Harry was awake and his bright green eyes were looking back into her blue ones.

“Hi,” she murmured. Smiling up at him,

“Hi,” he smiles back. Not breaking eye contact with her. He didn’t want to lose this moment. Didn’t want to stop looking at her, ever.

“I’m sorry, for coming in here last night. I didn’t meant to wake you, H,” she quietly says. Not wanting to ruin the calm mood that was currently surrounding them both.

“It’s doesn’t matter love, your always welcome to come to me. I’m always going to be here for you, not matter what, I lo-“ Harry stops talking. He didn’t want to say that. Didn’t want to say that at all.

Y/N whines, “Say it,” She whispers. “Say it, please.” She begs. Not wanting him to brush it off or not say what she thinks he’s going to say. She need him to say it so that she can say it back.

Harry hesitates, “I…” he can’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t know why. He clears his throat and try’s again, convinced that whatever his going to say, will come out this time.

“I love you,” he whispers back to her. Not meeting her eyes, but not looking away from her pretty face. If he were looking into her eyes though, he would be able to see that they light up with complete and utter love and adoration for him. All for him

Y/N grins. A full lipped smile that stretches across her whole face, making her cheeks hurt. She giggles, causing Harry to look up and meet her eyes again.

“I love you too,” she grins. Not breaking eye contact. She wants him to know that she means it completely.

“I love you so so much,” she giggles, causing Harry to laugh in response. Her hand coming up to rest against his cheek

“Seriously?” He asks, not quite believing this was happening.

“Yes silly! Of course I do!” She says, raising her voice slightly,

“You love me too?” He grins, “You love me!”

Y/N was now full on laughing, not quite sure what’s going on through Harry’s head, she knows however, that she doesn’t care. He loves her. Her.

“Yes!” She states, “I have done for a very long time!”

“Me too!” Harry declares, “me too!”

“Oh my god. Me too.” He whispers back, gazing down at her. Voice so quite Y/N nearly didn’t hear him. Harry doesn’t know how this happened. One minute he was staring down at her as her fingers lovingly grazed across his face and the next he knew they were confessing their love for each other. For each other!

Harry grins, looking into her eyes, they were so blue and so full of love he could almost see he’s reflection back in them. He was pretty sure that his eyes were the exact same, a reflection of each other . He just couldn’t get over the fact that the woman that he’d been in love with for the better part of two years actually loved him back. She loved him back.

Y/N didn’t know what to say, Harry was laying there looking into her eyes without saying anything. She was the exact same though, laying there staring back at him- completely in love. She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it so bad. She decided that she wasn’t going to want for him- she was going to kiss him first, she needed that right now,

“Harry-“ she started,

“Y/N,” Harry said, they both stated at the same time, both giggled at the interruption of each other,

“You first,” she giggled.

“Can I… maybe, kiss you now?” He asked

Y/N had never smiled so hard in her life, every single one of her wishes were coming true in this moment. She got Harry, he loved her back, wanted to be with her of all people and he- he – was asking to kiss her. She was going to die, she was sure of it.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Harry bent down, his forehead resting against hers as his lips slowly drew closer to hers own. Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off him, didn’t want to miss a single thing. As soon as his lips touched hers, Y/N’s eyes slipped closed alongside Harry’s and they were lost in each other.

Completely and utterly lost.

They had never been happier than they were in that moment. The night before completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other for the very first time.

—————————————————————————

And that’s it my loves!!!! My very first fic, I cannot believe that I finished it, wasn’t sure if I was going to post it but I decided to do it!

Be kind to me, I’m a precious bean who will cry if someone if mean to her! Leave feedback, let me know if you want anything specific! I’ll carry on writing but if you have requests let me know!

Be nice and treat people with kindness,

Love, Dari!🌻

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 6. Christmas Food

Request: @slytherinmagic38​ - "I have a request! Would you be open to writing a fanfic on Snape x Lily? They're my OTP... *^* Can it be super fluffly? >///< I live for the fluff XD"

A/N: So I got this request and I just had to make it a Snapemas fic since I got a fluffy idea regarding Snape cooking a whole Christmas dinner for Lily and their friends. This fic is a little OC (and AU) for many characters; you'll see ;) (Disclaimer! I am NOT good at fluff, sorry slytherinmagic38, but I will do my best!)

Setting: Spinner's End, Snape's House

Pairing: Snape x Lily

Word count: 3674

Warnings: Fluff, Love, Kissing

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

He had been slaving in the kitchen since the early hours of the morning. The house smelled of ham, turkey, gingerbread cookies, potatoes and all things good with Christmas food. He was so nervous he had barely gotten any sleep. Everything had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Because she was coming. Lily. Lovely, sweet Lily whom he had adored since the first day they met.

He smiled to himself as his cheeks turned a shade of scarlet red. Just the thought of her was enough to make him all giddy despite being an adult. Despite being nearly 24 years old. He was just a boy in love when it came to her.

The doorbell rang and his entire body went numb. He had just finished setting the table and had lit the last of the many candles that made the room shine in a warm glow. She's here, he thought to himself and hurriedly walked tot he door. He took a deep breath before he unlocked and open it.

There she stood, packed in thick clothes and while she held a pie in her hands. "Merry Christmas, Sev," she said happily and he smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. "Merry Christmas, Flower," he answered and stepped away from the opening so she could come in. Her smile was instantly wider and she handed him the pie before she closed the door behind her.

"It's so cold," she murmured as she took off her coat, hat, gloves, scarf and boots. "Well, it has been snowing." Severus just watched her with glittering eyes as she laughed. "True, true, at least it's nice and warm with you," she said and his heart fluttered at her words. Her cheeks a bit red - from the cold or the sweet words he did not know.

"Well, um, come in," he said as he fumbled for anything nice to say back, "feel free to heat up by the fire." He turned at those words and walked toward the kitchen. Her soft steps echoed behind him. "What have you been cooking? It smells divine!" Severus still smiled, just being close to her made him happy. Happy and content.

"Food," he murmured sheepishly and she laughed. It echoed all through the house and he loved that sound. "I know that, but what food Sev? What lovely creations have you come up with for us?" "Have a look," he said as they entered the kitchen and he placed the pie among a mountain of food - everything from the simplest of homemade bread to the most garnished turkey one could imagine.

Lily gawked, Severus held his breath. She turned towards him and closed her mouth as if she just had figured out it was open. He became nervous and fiddled with his fingers behind his back. "Is it not enough?" he asked as he ventured to look into her clear eyes. "Enough? Oh, Severus, it's far too much!" she gushed with a hand against her throat. "Guess I'm not used to cooking for more than one," he said, "I just, wanted you to have all the things you'd like." She smiled at him and laid her hand upon his arm. "This is more than I could ever want. Let's hope the others are hungry, so it doesn't go to waste." Severus nodded at her words but were totally lost in her twinkling eyes.

"Well, let's get cracking," Lily said as she rolled up her sleeves and rubbed her hands together in a joyous kind of way. Severus chuckled and did the same. "You really are a great cook," she said softly and her face seemed to turn a little red again. Severus felt the heat of a blush as well. "Thank- thank you," he murmured as his voice was a bit unstable from her proximity.

They moved all the food out to the table Severus had set up in the living room. He had clear the room as best he could to fit the giant piece of furniture with all the chairs that belonged to it. Lily bumped into him at times, or she reached across him to place a food item down. Every time she was close the faint smell of ginger, honey and summer wafted up to his nose and he nearly hummed in delight.

Severus tried his best not to touch her but he found himself accidentally touching her hand from time to time as they passed each other. While they each went for the pie in the kitchen the same thing happened again and the warmth of her made him shiver as it spread through him like the softest of summer breeze.

"Flower, I-" The doorbell rang and Severus nearly cursed at the damn sound. "That must be the others!" Lily exclaimed excitedly but her eyes lingered on him. A soft look and Severus felt the hammering in his chest yet again. "I-" The doorbell rang again and Severus sighed. "We'll talk later Sev," Lily said as she left to open the door after she gave him a quick pat on his upper arm. Warmth spread from where she had touched him for that single little moment in time.

Severus followed with a smile. Her red hair shined in the candlelight and he could not help but adore the dress she wore as it fitted her perfectly (and gave him a very fine view as well). She opened the door and a chorus of Christmas wishes exploded in the tight hallway as it filled up with people Severus had invited. Mostly to make Lily happy but also because he was rather happy he had friends. Sure they hadn't started off as friends, rather the opposite but as he had changed, thanks to Lily among others, so had they.

"I'm starving!" Sirius roared. "Oy, oy, hold on a minute," Remus chuckled as he came up behind the man. "Yeah Padfoot, let us at least get inside!" James hollered with a chuckle and Sirius made a fainting gesture as he groaned. Severus chuckled and Lily laughed. It was the most wondrous sound for him. "You can hang your coats there," Severus said as he pointed with open palm towards the wardrobe that he had nearly emptied for the coming guests ease. "Will do," Remus said with a smile and Severus smiled back.

As the men filed in Severus looked outside, to see if Peter were joining as well. But he could not see him. Or the other guests he had invited. As much as he and the Marauders were friends (again, thanks to lovely Lily) he had also invited his own friends. And, a person of high meaning to Lily - despite the fact that he did not quite enjoy that person's company. And he had only had word that very morning that she would indeed join them - with the words 'only for my sister' dashed out at the end of the muggle Christmas card.

"SIRIUS BLACK you hold on just a minute!" Lily's voice rang out with mocked sternness and Severus closed the door and headed towards the living room where the noise came from. He found a rather funny scene on the other side of the wall. Sirius was frozen mid-air with his hands over the freshly baked bread Severus had made. Lily with her hands on her hips stared at him and he looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The other’s were snickering as they shook their heads.

"The food is for all of us, you mut!" The word was said with love and Sirius mocked a howl. "But, the doggie is starving Lil!" he said with a pleading voice and Lily shook her head. "It's quite alright, take one Sirius," Severus said with a short nod. Sirius beamed and winked at Lily before he snagged a piece fo the bread that was dusted with varying seeds and coated in honey.

"You are utterly hopeless," Lily whined as Sirius gulped down the bread with a grin. Severus came up behind Lily and placed his hand ever so gently on the small of her back. She looked up at him and smiled. It was a soft smile, filled with joy and tender feelings. Severus's knees shook a bit as he could not help but feel utterly smitten and frankly in love with the woman. "And you spoil him, Sev," she said with a slight tsk but nonetheless kept her smile. "It's that or whining until the others arrive." Lily nodded, seemingly pondering on something.

The doorbell rang yet again, just loud enough to be heard over the laughter and Christmas carols that blurted from the little radio in the window. Severus were reluctant to move as Lily had sat down right next to him and their knees were softly pressed against each other; despite the fact that she had plenty of room on the couch she chose to sit right next to him.

With a slight sigh Severus got up, "I'll see who's joining us." He walked out of the room as the other continued their conversation on new spells and the possible uses for them in humorous ways. Severus stalked over to the door and opened it. "Mewy 'wistmas!" rang out as little Draco, merely four years old, beamed up at him. "Merry Christmas Draco," Severus said and crouched to his level, "what have you got there?" "'oockies!" He said happily and stretched the little box towards Severus, "Fo' eve'yone." Severus smiled and thanked the little boy before he rose again and Draco went inside; as he eagerly shed his coat, hat, gloves and boots.

"We apologies, we couldn't find a sitter for him," Narcissa said, with a gentle smile. "That's quite alright, I believe Lily will be rather happy. Merry Christmas," he said and Narcissa smiled wider. "Merry Christmas, Severus." "Yes, Merry Christmas indeed," Lucius said with a chuckle as laughter and cooing could be heard from the living room. The Marauders were not quite friends with the couple but they all were friendly enough and James quite often discussed work (the fun parts) with Lucius as they were tightly connected being in the same department at the Ministry.

"I hear the cavalry is here?" Lucius drawled and Severus nodded with a tight smile. "Oh Lucius, stop it," Narcissa chided with a light pat on his shoulder. Lucius smiled at his wife and Severus could not help but wonder if he and Lily could ever have such a relationship. A marriage between them. He pushed the thought away, he was already nervous as it was.

"This way," Severus said and led the couple into the living room where Draco already ran around and played with all of the present people. Lily was the favourite, obviously. Severus looked as Draco told Lily all about the cookies he and his mother had baked for everyone. Lily cooed and praised him for his hard work. Draco beamed at her, as only a happy child could. But Severus only had eyes for Lily. She beamed nearly just as bright and his chest tightened with love for the woman.

"So, are we all here? Can we dig in?" Sirius said as he clapped his hands together with a grin. "We-" started Lily but Severus interrupted her. "Flower, we are not all here yet," he said softly with a tender smile only for her. She looked puzzled while she looked between him and the table as it was set for eight people (since he had a hunch Peter would not arrive as he had heard not the slightest sound from the man). "Draco needs a place to sit, he was not planned." Lily smiled, but still looked puzzled. "We are really sorry, Severus," Narcissa said in a hushed tone. Severus waved his hand. "Nonsense, the boy is a joy," he said with a smile to both Narcissa and Lucius whom both smiled back at him. Obviously relieved.

"Who are we waiting for then?" Lily asked as she was rearranging the table setting. Severus smiled fondly towards her. "That, sweet Flower, is for you to see when-" and the doorbell rang again, "well, there we go," Severus declared before he rushed towards the door so as Lily would not beat him to it.

He opened it swiftly with a smile as he did not wish to make the relationship with Petunia any more strained than it already was. She was a, well, not very likeable woman to be frank. But he tried, by Merlin did he try. "Mrs Dursley," he said and gave her a gentle nod. She huffed. "Petunia is fine," she muttered as she took off her gloves with quite the show. "Petunia," Severus uttered as he stepped out of her path to allow her access to his home. Even if he didn't really enjoy the idea of it. For Lily, this is for Lily, he thought so as not to sneer at the woman as she hung her coat and changed her shoes to a pair of low heels.

"Sev, who- Tuni!" Lily screamed with glee as she rushed past Severus and took her sister in her arms. Petunia smiled as she petted Lily's back and Severus could not help but smile as well. They were opposites but they loved each other dearly. "Oh Lily, honestly, we saw each other just two weeks ago," Petunia spoke with a huff but seemed rather happy her sister was so excited to see her. "That was two weeks ago, and not at a Christmas dinner!" Petunia simply huffed and remained quiet.

"What's going on? We're starving back here!" Sirius called as he strolled into the hallway. "We're all here now," Severus said, "Petunia was the last one." "Well thank Merlin! Let's eat!" Sirius was gone before anyone had time to utter a word.

Severus had been kind enough to tell Petunia who would be joining them so the woman had obviously prepared herself as she didn't sneer or comment on Sirius behaviour. After all, they all knew each other quite well. Well, most likely she knows all of them deeper than they know her. Such a private person, Severus thought as he followed the sisters into the living room where Petunia actually looked pleasantly surprised by all the decorations and the splendid looking food.

"Well then, let's get seated," Severus said and pointed towards the table with an open palm as he waited for all of them to take a seat where ever they wanted. He would take whatever seat available, but he hoped to be next to Lily.

He ended up at the head of the table, Lily to his right and Narcissa to his left. He was quite happy with that. On the right side were Lily, Petunia, Remus and Sirius. On the left sat Narcissa, Draco, Lucius and then James. All were chatting and eating. All seemed happy and content. Severus made sure everyone's glasses were full and asked if anyone wanted anything that was not at the table. Draco, the little picky-eater, said he wanted apples. Sliced apples. Severus chuckled and headed off to the kitchen.

As he was slicing a green apple muffled steps were heard. He turned to see Lily, with a smile and an empty wine bottle in her hand. "Have any more, Sev?" "Top right cupboard," he said with a jerk of his chin. She walked past him, her elbow graced him as she placed the empty bottle on the counter and he stilled for a moment.

"I know you invited her for my sake," Lily said as she stood next to him. "Obviously," Severus stated as he moved the apple slices into a little bowl with a red Christmas pattern on it. "Severus," Lilly whispered as she placed her slender hand on top of his, "that was very sweet." He stilled, a gentle warmth spread through him and he turned his hand to take hers in his. "Anything for you, Flower." The whisper was soft and hushed. His heart hammered as their fingers intertwined.

"How long are you going to keep me waiting?" Lily asked and Severus jerk his head up only to be met with her loving eyes tenderly looking back at him. "Pardon?" "Oh Sev, we've been at this for a year now. Why haven't you asked me out yet?" Severus swallowed as his knees shook a tad. Everything went so still and quiet as she gazed at him longingly. He was out of words. And air. He sucked in a huge gulp as he noticed he really wasn't breathing.

"I didn't know- I wasn't sure-" he rambled as her hand squeezed his gently. "You know Sev, don't be so insecure. You know I'm in love with you." Severus's eyes turned wide and he blushed scarlet. Lily giggled sweetly. "Okay then, Severus, will you go out with me?" she said as the giggles had died down and he just stared at her for a long moment.

"Yes," was the only word that left his lips as he breathed out. She smiled and before he even had a chance to react she had kissed his cheeks softly. "Come on, they're waiting," Lily said and Severus nodded as he were afraid his voice would break if he spoke. So he followed her, a bowl of apple slices in his hand and a bottle of wine in her hand, as they walked back tot he living room and the guest's who were laughing and talking loudly.

An odd feeling swept in over Severus as he handed the bowl to Draco. It was warm and soft. Safe and joyfully. He was, well, he was happy. Truly happy. He had friends, he had loved ones and he had what could be described as a family. Something he had barely dared to hope for. But there he was, hosting a Christmas dinner in his home with Lily by his side and friends all around the table that was covered in the food he had cooked. Surrounded by Christmas decorations and laughter. Now, now I do sort of understand all that talk about family. And friends. Of its importance. No one should live without this. The thoughts were silent yet he smiled warmly as Lily grabbed his hand atop the table and squeezed it again.

"Finally!" Remus shouted and everyone went utterly still and quiet as Remus never spoke with such raised voice (unless he was bantering with Sirius that is). Everyone looked at the smiling werewolf who seemed wickedly pleased. "Maybe now you can shut up about him not asking you out," he said with a grin towards Lily who blushed deeply.

All eyes turned to them and Severus stiffened but Lily held his hand firmly and with a theatrical show she lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles as she smiled so broadly all her white teeth were flashed after the kiss. "Maybe you should make your own Christmas miracle to, Remus?" she chuckled and the looks she gave him told everyone at the table that Lily and Remus had a secret. Severus appeared to be the only one who noticed the slight glance Remus gave Sirius. As if he just darted around with his eyes. But Severus saw that look instantly and knew what it meant.

"What miracle?" Sirius asked with his mouth full of chicken. Severus could not help but internally laugh at Petunias aghast expression at the man's table manners. "Oh hush, don't speak with your mouth full," Remus chided and Severus chuckled as Lily shook her head. "What?" Sirius asked, baffled, "tell me about this miracle!" he raved as he chewed but nobody said anything. Remus simply smiled softly as he shared a look with Lily who gave a just as soft smile back.

"It was lovely Severus," Narcissa said as Draco hung over her shoulder in a deep slumber. "I'm glad you came," he answered. "So are we," Lucius interfered and Severus smiled at the both of them. "We are happy for you, dear Severus, truly." Narcissa smiled at him and he nodded in thanks. "Have a safe trip." "Thank you for the food and company, it was enjoyable." Lucius shook Severus's hand and then they were on their way. Just like Remus, Sirius and James had been a moment earlier.

In the living room - the very messy living room - sat Petunia and Lily. Both held a glass of wine each and they chatted quietly but happily. Severus lingered in the door frame for a moment. Just to look at her, lovely Lily. Such beauty, he thought and that warmth spread even further through him.

At that moment, Lily looked up and smiled at him. "Come join us, Sev." She beckoned him with a wave of his hand. He summoned a glass of fire whiskey as he walked towards the women and sat down in the chair opposite them. "Lily tells me you did all the cooking?" Petunia said and he voice was not quite so stuffy as it usually was. "Indeed, I did." "It was lovely." Severus arched a brow in surprise at the praise that came from Petunia. "Well look at that, another Christmas miracle," Lily giggled and Severus chuckled as Petunia smiled with an ever so slight blush to her pale skin.

"You will look after her, won't you?" Petunia's voice was soft yet stern and Severus nodded. "Pfft, more likely I'll look after him," Lily giggled and Severus chuckled yet again. "Flower, I believe you are right." Petunia seemed happy with the words so none of them pressed the matter further. Severus assumed the sister had spoken just between themselves about the whole thing before he arrived. He was just happy that Petunia seemed a bit more accepting and the fact that Lily had asked him to go out with her.

"Well, I should get going." Petunia stood as she spoke. "Already?" Lily pouted and Petunia gave a tense smile. "We'll see each other in a few days for Christmas." Lily nodded at that and Petunia's gaze drifted over to Severus. "You are welcome too," she said, "if you want. But there will only be muggles there so no magic." Severus nodded. "It would be a delight," he said and he actually meant the words. No, he did not fancy Petunia, or her large husband Vernon and the spoiled child of theirs, but he was happy to have been invited. Happy to have been somewhat accepted as Christmas was a rather huge event in the muggle world.

"I will see you both promptly at eleven then," Petunia said as she walked towards the hallway. Both Severus and Lily followed. "Yes, Tuni," Lily said with a smile, "promptly at eleven." "Anything we should bring?" Severus asked and Petunia pondered for a moment as she took her coat, hat, gloves and scarf. "That bread was quite lovely," she said and Severus smiled with a nod. "I will bring some freshly baked. Have a safe trip," Severus said and left the sister to say their goodbyes in private.

A few moments later the door closed and Severus drank the last of the fire whiskey as Lily stepped into the living room again. She curled up on the couch and looked at him. He looked right back at her. "So, nothing to say?" she asked and he felt as though she was trying to get at something specific. "No, I do not believe so," Severus said with a raised brow. Lily sighed and shook her head. "Nothing at all?" "No?"

It took a moment of silence. Severus turned deathly pale. His back was stiff as a rod. His hands were slightly damp with sweat and his heart pounded so harshly in the confinement of his chest that he feared it might have popped out if it could have done so. She's in love with me, was the only thought that crossed his mind.

"You love me?" he asked. His voice was so low and shaky, it was nearly audible. Lily beamed at him. "I do," she said with a small nod. She didn't move as Severus seemed to rearrange something. The world perhaps. "But, that can't be right?" "Oh, why ever not?" "Because I'm-" "The most handsome and loving man I have ever met? True." Lily's words came so fast he had no time to speak. "The most brilliant and most gentle man I have ever met? Also true." She waltzed over to him as she continued to speak loving words of adoration and for every syllable that left her lips, he felt something in his chest expand.

"Severus, you always look down on yourself. Why can't you just see how wonderful you are and let me love you?" Lily asked as she sat down in his lap and laid her hands on his shoulders as his arms instinctively wrapped around her. "I love you," he whispered softly and she smiled as her fingers caressed his jaw. "I love you too." Her lips graced his cheek tenderly.

"What do you say about skipping the whole dating ordeal and just love each other?" Severus swallowed yet nodded at her words. "Flower," he murmured and as some sort of courage surged threw him he kissed her soft lips tenderly as her hands cradled his face and his arms pressed her towards him. The smell of Christmas food and her filled his nose and he loved every moment of time she gave him. Just as he loved her lips on his. Christmas miracle indeed...

So this turned out to be a long fic but I just couldn't stop myself. I'm not good at short stuff and I felt this had the potential to be "dragged out a bit" so to speak. Lily is not a character I enjoy shipping with Severus personally BUT this was fun to write and I love to take creative liberty with characters like this. Make love where there is supposed to be hate according to canon.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one and that it was up to scratch both as a Snapemas fic and a request despite my rather poor skills in writing fluffy stuff xD ^^

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // SNAPEMAS POST

Tags: @lizlil​ @snapefiction​ Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2020]

[pokemonislanderprincess]

Contest for the shipping meme?

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - May and Drew are the personification of “good luck trying to return me without the receipt” while drunk and holding a match up to their marriage certificate. For reference, May is the drunk one holding the lighter, and Drew is in the corner trying not to laugh his ass off. They’re solid, despite the (read: May’s) chaos.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - May and Drew probably got together the quickest out of all of their friends. They both knew within a year of meeting that they liked one another, and it only took about another two years for them to both confess.

How was their first kiss? - They’re about 13, so it’s kind of awkward, very short, but still sweet. Drew gives May a rose after a contest, and they’re already “kind of sort of” dating, so May just kind of leans in and goes for a little peck, which Drew returns.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Drew. In a field of roses and Beautifly very reminiscent where May’s parents got engaged.

Who is the best man/men? - Best Man: Max. Groomsmen: Ash, Brock, Cilan, Clemont.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Maid of Honor: Dawn. Bridesmaids: Misty, Solidad, Iris, Serena.

Who did the most planning? - May and Drew actually did a lot of the work together, mostly because May knows Drew is more lowkey than her and wants to make sure he’s comfortable with the plans.

Who stressed the most? - May. Her friends heard about every single wedding related nightmare she experienced (and there were a lot.)

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Harley...initially. Solidad eventually convinces them to invite him. They both regret it within five minutes of the wedding.

Sex:

Who is on top? - This is something they tend to compete for, although Drew normally wins out.

Who is the one to instigate things? - May. She loves to flirt.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Drew lasts a while. May...not so much.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Heck no! It’s basically a contest, and there can only be one winner.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2

How many children will they adopt? - 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Drew

Who is the stricter parent? - Drew

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - May...this is the one thing she’s pretty strict with because she’s really afraid of injuries.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Drew

Who is the more loved parent? - May and Drew’s kids love them equally, but know which parent to go to if they want something specific.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - May. She’s also most likely to bring the snacks to the kids’ activities, go on field trips, etc. She really enjoys socializing with the other parents.

Who cried the most at graduation? - May. She starts crying before the ceremony even starts.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - May. These kids do not want to cross Drew.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Drew

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Drew. Not because he has a limited palette, but because he refuses to eat a majority of junk food. May, on the other hand, eats everything.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Drew, because May buys too many snacks and not enough “real” food.

How often do they bake desserts? - Quite a bit! Baking is one thing May learns to do relatively well, so she enjoys whipping something up from time to time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - May will eat anything, although she often complains that most salads aren’t filling enough for her. Drew veers more towards salads, but won’t turn down meat based meals, especially when they’re well done.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Both: Drew at home, May out at a restaurant. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - May. She’s always reading up on popular or highly rated restaurants and always wants to try them.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - May. It’s happened before. Several times, in fact.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Drew

Who is really against chores? - May. She just thinks it’s kind of a waste of time because “it’s just gonna get messy all over again.”

Who cleans up after the pets? - They both look after their own Pokemon.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - May. Drew finds her trash and other things all over the place.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Drew used to, but he kind of just gave up at some point. So if people come over and see a mess May left behind, Drew just shrugs it off with a “yes, this is my life.”

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Drew. It’s May’s. Sometimes he gives it back...sometimes he keeps it. Depends on his mood.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - May, although Drew is not quick by any stretch of the imagination.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Drew is more likely to be seen out exercising with the Pokemon. May kind of has to be bribed to do it.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - May loves decorating for holidays! It actually gets to be a little garish.

What are their goals for the relationship? - They both love each other and want to have fun, although Drew is more determined to keep their relationship private than May is.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - May

Who plays the most pranks? - May...Drew never even retaliates because he can’t be bothered.

[laudedliar]

1,15,16 for the dramatic ask, for any ship you like, please!

I finally did it!  I mean it’s not a super long one T_T  Sorry.  But it was fun to write. :) 

OTP #15: Who would fight an impossible battle to allow the other to escape?

@noire-pandora‘s Elluin Lavellan x Solas

It was gone.  The orb lay broken and dormant on the ground, shattered to pieces beside the dead Magister.  Slowly he knelt down to pick up the sphere, cradling it in his hands as a crushing despair began to wrap its stifling tendrils around him.

How could he fix all that had come to ruin without it?

The Veil rippled above them, crackling with energy in the aftermath of their battle, and Solas glanced to the side as Elluin called out to her companions shakily.  Cassandra answered an affirmative word as she stepped around the cooling corpse towards him.  Solas could not find his voice to answer, but felt the Seeker’s cool gaze upon him as he continued to attempt to piece the orb together futilely.

“Varric!  Varric!”  Elluin shrieked in sudden panic as she rushed through the rubble of the tumbled ruins to where the archer’s leg was visible from beneath a heavy rock.  “Cassandra, help me!  I can’t lift it on my own!”  The Inquisitor begged as she threw her small frame against the stone.

The Seeker, who had been quietly watching Solas cradle his broken prize, turned her attention to Elluin’s plight, rushing over to assist in getting the rubble off the dwarven author.  Pale brown eyes wrenched away from the two women pushing against the fallen rock to look back at the cracked orb nestled in his hands.

“Solas, please, we need your help!”  Elluin cried out.  A tug at his heart.  She was straining and grunting with effort as her and the warrior shifted the largest rock and it moved off the prone dwarf.

All he had done had been for her.  For The People she so loved, so that they may understand the true power of what they could be.  The power that he had blindly taken away.  Sundered them from who they truly were, until only shadows remained of his once great peoples.  To set them free from chains of slavery he had fought a nearly impossible battle.  Only to have unwittingly thrown them into the cage of mortality.

An unwinnable battle it seemed.  To keep the elvhenan from one master, he had enslaved them to another.  Yet he would continue to fight until the elvhen future was brighter than even it’s luminous past.

For all of them.

But, now, most of all: For her.

As he stood from where he knelt, still clutching his orb tightly, Solas watched sadly as the two women pulled the unconscious archer from under the debris and checked his vitals.  Cassandra slapped the dwarf’s ruddy cheeks a few times, and Elluin cried in relief as the cross-bowman coughed and groaned in response.

They were preoccupied.  Checking for broken bones, forcing the archer to drink a potion of healing.  One of Solas’ own concoctions none the less.

Desire tugged him towards her.  But duty and pride forced his sliding steps away.

He must absolve himself for her.  A war was on the horizon, one that he did not wish to see such a gentle soul fight.  He would not force her hand, one way or the other, if he could help it.  Though, he had been known to make mistakes before and drag innocents along in his rough wake.  As long as he was far away from her, she could not be held responsible for the actions he must take.  For the path that he must walk.

For the seemingly unwinnable struggle he must fight.

And he would, that is, fight for her.  So she could finally see the wonders she had begged him to tell her about while beneath the blazing stars above SkyHold.  How marvelous it had been to witness such wanton desire as he told her of the stories he’d exhumed in his walks through the Fade.  When she would hold his hand just slightly too tight as he escorted her through their shared dreams.

What he wouldn’t give but to always hold that hand.  As she walked forever by his side.

Step by aching step he moved away from his companions and into the shadowy tree line.  He could not bring her with him.  This was his battle.  This was his war.

And she deserved to be free.

Elluin wiped at her brow, brushing away a gathering of dust and blood from her forehead.  She glanced at Cassandra and they shared a smile as Varric began to complain about his back hurting and how he would never again fight another ancient Magister asshole as long as he lived.

Cassandra helped the dwarf up, letting him lean on her hip as they walked down towards the crying calls of their compatriots sifting through the fallen rubble for them.  Elluin looked around, her breathing returning to a steady beat as she took in the battlefield around her.  Her attention was drawn over towards the Magister’s body, where last she saw Solas kneeling.  But the Fade Mage was not there.

He was nowhere to be seen.  The ruins were empty, save the dead Magister and his blighted dragon companion’s corpse.

“Solas?”  She called out tentatively.

But the only answer was that of a howling wolf in the far distance.  And the shattering of her heart as it broke into a million agonizing shards.

“He had been piecing that orb together.  Corypheus’ orb.”  Cassandra told her that night during the revelry.  “I did not see where he went after.  I’m sorry, Inquisitor.”  The raven haired warrior bowed low to her.

“Don’t worry yourself over it now, Cassandra.  Go!  Drink, feast!  We can talk about it tomorrow.”  Elluin said, trying her best to keep her tone light even as her chest ached empty.

“And we have you to thank, Inquisitor, that we even have a tomorrow.”  The Seeker said, nodding her head respectfully towards her before turning to join the others at the long tables decorating the great hall.

The celebration carried long into the night.  But Elluin excused herself long before the festivities ended.  She paused at the door to her chambers, looking over them all.  So much hope and love shared between people who had barely known each other only a short time before.  People that Elluin would never have met, would never have known had it not been for such dour events.  Had it not been for that cursed orb.

Her feet made their tired winding way up the stairs to her quarters.  Alone.

Her sheets were cool against her skin as she slid into the bed and held a pillow close.  There was a very faint scent upon the sheets.  Like milkweed and honey.  Bittersweet.  Solas’ scent.  Tears gathered along her lashes as she remembered him joining her in her room and reading to her on nights she was mending after returning from some far off assignment.

”Hm, Dorian is right.  This is nothing more than trite propaganda.” He’d said once, flipping through the pages of some Tevinter history book.

”Would you tell me a story you know?” She’d asked, hopeful for another peek into the ancient elvhen world.

”It would be my pleasure.”

Her eyes opened to the rising sun, blinking slowly.

Solas lay beside her, head resting on a pillow facing her.  His eyes never left her gaze, and his lips stretched into a matching smile as her own bloomed across her face.

“Where were you?  I was so worried.  You missed the feast last night.”  She whispered, afraid to break the calm of early morning.

He didn’t answer, only shook his head gently.

“I was thinking,” She continued, “We could let Dagna see the orb.  She’s so talented, perhaps she can help you figure out it’s magics.”

His smile faded with each word she uttered.

Elluin paused, searching his familiar face.  Searching for whatever it was hidden behind his eyes.  To find the truth of what he was secreting away.

“Solas?”  She asked hushed as she lifted a hand to reach for his own settled below his chin.

But the elvhen apostate pulled away from her reaching fingers, sighing softly.  Sadly.

She pulled back, realization settling like a weighty blanket and drowning her.  “Solas.”  She called softly, trying to keep herself there in the Dream.  Heart pounding and fretful she reached again for his hand.  “Please.”  She whimpered as the edges became faded, the sound of bird song piercing the cloudy haze.

Still his eyes never left her own, as if he were trying to memorize all of her as the Dream turned murky grey.

“Please!”  She cried out once more before being jerked awake, still clutching tight his pillow.  Her room was cold and dark, only the barest hint of pink blushing along the horizon through her window.  And she was alone.

”I’m sorry, vhenan.”

[middleofnowhere92]

@imnotginnyweasly requested Ty Luko for my ATLA Valentine’s Day one shots I got so excited to write my fav OTP my hand slipped and it’s gonna be a two shot. Chapter two will be up soon. 

The Worst Morning After (Chapter 1)

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ty Lee/Zuko (Avatar), Ty Lee & Zuko (Avatar) Additional Tags: Morning After, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era Summary: Ty Lee and Zuko wake up together. It goes downhill from there.

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Notes: It might seem implied that they had sex, but we'll find out if anything happened in chapter 2.

Ty Lee blinked awake as the sun starting to filter in through the blinds. Well, she tried to blink awake. Her mascara had effectively glued her eye shut. She sniffed the air. This didn't smell like her Bath and Body Works air freshener. This place smelled like mahogany, maybe? She rubbed at her eyes and was finally able to get them open. She glanced around. Yeah, she definitely hadn't made it home last night. The bedroom was sparse. A few traditional Fire Nation art works hung on the walls. At least this guy had a clean room, or was it a girl? Geez, she must have had a few last night. Well, either way, it didn’t really matter. It was time to go. She scanned the bedroom one more time. Her dress was on the floor by the door, but where in the Spirits were her shoes...

The person shifted next to her in bed. Shit! She had missed her window to escape. Ty Lee was pretty good with people, but sometimes she just wanted to hit and run. She wasn’t in the mood to tell her life story. She should just leave now before they fully woke up. The only problem was her dress was all the way over there… She chewed at her lip trying to figure a way out of this.

Suddenly, the other person got up and out of bed. She screwed her eyes shut to feign sleep. She heard their footsteps walk away, followed by a door shutting and the shower turning on. Perfect! This is the opportunity she needed.

She bounced up and out of bed, the cool air making her very awake. She scurried over to her dress. She picked up the pink glittery number and started to wiggle in. She forgot how tight this stupid thing was. She bounced up and down, the floor boards creaking, as she pulled the dress over her thighs. The fabric finally bent to her will and she was able to pull it all the way up. She bit her lip as she twisted her arm in an inhumane way to pull the zipper up.

She pulled and pulled, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. She sucked in as much as she could and it finally pulled up. She spun around looking for her pink glittery heels. They had to be in here somewhere. She glanced to the other person’s side of the bed, but nope. There was just a pair of black jeans crumpled on the floor.

Okay, it was time for her to go further into this person’s living place in her quest. She pressed her ear to the door for any sign of roommates. She heard nothing, so she took a deep breath and opened the door as slowly and quietly as she could. She poked her head out, looking each way before opening the door fully.

She tip toed out into the apartment, scanning for the pink glittery shoes. They were six inch heels for Spirits’ sake. They shouldn’t be that hard to find, especially in this neutral decor situation. This apartment was actually really nice and modern. A little too blah for her taste, but definitely nice. She slunk through the kitchen and hurriedly crossed to the living room, when she spotted them next to the couch. She grinned gleefully as she hopped on one foot as she shoved the other in her heel.

Once both heels were on, she decided this was the perfect opportunity for escape. She stepped on the balls of her feet to avoid her heels hitting the floor. She made a plan to call an Uber as soon as she got in the hallway, except… She huffed her bangs out of her face. Where in the spirits was her phone?

Okay, she just had to be quick. Get it and get out. She hurriedly teetered in her heels across the apartment looking for her phone case covered in pink rhinestones. It had to be around here somewhere. She crammed her small hands in the couch, not feeling anything. She groaned, but scampered through the kitchen, looking over the counter top. She was about to head back to the bedroom, when she turned back to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of fireflakes and then continued with her mission. She could never pass on fireflakes.

She stepped in the bedroom and narrowed her eyes in search of her phone. She shook out the comforter, but no luck. She picked up the pillows, but couldn’t find anything. She looked on the desk, side of the bed, but came up empty. Finally she decided to look under the bed.

She wiggled under the bed. At least it was clean under here too. She saw the glimmer of her bedazzled phone even in the darkness under the bed. She reached her arm out and she hit her phone, sending it sliding across the hardwood floor. She wiggled further under the bed stretching her arm out, if she just had longer fingers. She made grabby hands, but the phone stayed just out of her reach. She was so focused on getting her phone, she was startled when someone cleared their throat and in a raspy voice asked, “Uh, do you need help?” She let out a light scream at the fright, her head bouncing up and hitting the bed frame.

“Oww!” She groaned. This person had the audacity to snort at her predicament. She glowered, “Are you laughing at me?” They answered breathily, “No…” as they failed to keep their laughter out of their voice. She glared up at them through the mattress. They offered, “Uh, do you need me to pull you out?” She rolled her eyes, “Absolutely not! I can-” As she shimmied out from her under the bed, her extremely tight dress chose that exact moment to rip from the bottom to the middle of her back.

As she heard the loud tear of the fabric, she realized what happened and wanted to burst into tears. This by far was the worst, most awkward, humiliating morning after she had ever endured. She let her head thunk against the hardwood floor,  wishing it would swallow her up. It’s not like she had any dignity left anyway. She sniffled and Raspy Voice interjected, “Oh, um don’t cry. It’s okay. We’ll get you out.” Couldn’t they just be quiet? She didn’t need to be reminded that there was a witness to the least graceful moment of her life.

She shoved herself out of the bed. When she got out she huffed and sat on the floor, her back against the bed. She glanced around, but the other person wasn’t there. They stepped back into the room and Ty Lee tried her best not to stare. He gave her a small smile and handed her a red towel, “Uh, here you can, uh, shower if you want.” He went to the dresser, “You can wear some of my stuff, it might be a little big, but, um-” “It’ll be better than this right?” She asked as she wrapped the towel around her waist to cover the giant rip in her dress.

He gave her the same tight lipped smile, “Uh, yeah.” He gestured to the door off his bedroom, “Bathroom’s over there.” She thanked him and then slunk into the bathroom to escape the awkwardness. Well, he by far was the prettiest person she had ever gone home with. Sure he had a large scar over the left side of his face, but he was really really good looking. In the brief glimpse that she had gotten, she had noticed how tall and built he was. His wet black hair had been thrown up in a top knot,  a few pieces hanging down in his face. He had just been wearing sweats and a v-neck, but you could still see the muscular build underneath and the tattoos that crawled down his arms.

She cleared her head of the thoughts and cranked the shower on, turning the water as hot as possible. She looked in the steamy mirror to see her gray eyes surrounded in smudged glitter and eyeshadow, giving her the appearance of a raccoon in drag. Her braid was frizzy and her baby hairs were a mess. She looked like shit. Guess she wouldn’t be seeing this guy again. She dropped the towel, then her dress and undid her braid.

She stepped in the hot water, letting it scald her. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot water wash away her sins from the night before. She leaned her head back letting her thick hair become absorbed and heavy with water. She turned, scrubbing the mess of makeup off her face. She stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, attempting to avoid the inevitable.

She reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around herself. She put some tooth paste on her finger and got rid of the taste of last night. She poked her head out and found the bedroom empty, but a black pair of boxer briefs, a worn Blink 182 t-shirt, a black Thrasher hoodie and a pair of black sweats were laid out on the bed. At least he was kind of nice, she thought to herself. She dried herself and hung the towel up. She heard voices on the other side of the door, one being the hot guy from earlier and the other sounded like a woman on speaker phone.

The girl asked, “So how’d it go last night Sparky? Finally get some?” The guy snorted, “Can we not talk about this?” His friend brushed it off, “Give me something juicy! It’s literally the only reason I called you.”  The guy sounded like he was shuffling around in the kitchen as he responded, “I thought you were gonna let me know whose place we were doing your Anti-Valentine's day at later.” The other person answered, “Well duh, your place obviously.” Raspy Voice answered, “Spirits no! There’s pink glitter all over the place.” The other voice answered, “Glitter! What in the Spirits did you take home with you last night?” The guy awkwardly cleared his throat and said, “The line’s breaking up! I can’t hear you. Gotta go. Bye!”

Ty Lee bit her lip to keep her laugh in. He seemed like a nice enough guy. His words reminded her that right, today was Valentine's Day. The sun had barely risen, but this day was even worse than the Valentine's day that Haru had broken up with her. Last night, she had gone out for a fun night with Aang and Suki to forget that they were single, but it had somehow spiraled into the disaster of a situation she was currently in. She shook her head and put on his borrowed clothes. She finger combed her thick, impossibly long hair, but she didn’t have the energy to attempt to braid it right this minute. She braced herself and opened his bedroom door.  His back was turned to her as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets.

Even though she hadn’t made any noise, he seemed to sense her. He called over his shoulder, “I got your phone out from under the bed. It’s on the charger.” He pointed to it with an empty cereal box, that he then tossed in the recycling. She bounced over and saw the many, many missed calls and text messages from Suki and Aang. She groaned thinking about all the questions she would have to deal with the next time she saw them. And she spotted her bag of fireflakes from earlier, perched right next to her phone. She snuck the little bag into the hoodie pocket.

The guy looked over at her and asked, “Wanna come get breakfast with me?” She looked at him wide eyed like a deer startled by a hunter, “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” She couldn’t possibly go out in public like this . She was already horrified that he had seen her without make up, looking like a half dead zombie. She couldn’t have anyone else witness how utterly disgusting she looked. He just shrugged, “I was gonna go anyway, since I have nothing to eat here.”

Oh. So he didn’t really want her to come. That was fine. She couldn't blame him. She tried to answer in a nonchalant tone, “I ordered my Uber. I should really head home.” He turned to finally look at her. She had never felt so self conscious, his golden eyes seemed to be able to see every flaw in her appearance, as he took in her disheveled form. She became weirdly embarrassed as he glanced down at her pink glitter painted toes. He walked away and answered, “My half sister left some crocs here. They’ll probably fit you.” He came back holding a pair of white crocs that did actually look like they would fit.

She slipped into them and his oversized long sweatpants cascaded over them. She looked up at him sheepishly, feeling a pink blush tint her cheeks, “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She unplugged her phone and scooped up her heels while he grabbed a burgundy hoodie. She followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs. The cold February air gave Ty Lee a chill. She tucked her long damp hair into the hood and pulled it up.  He glanced at her, “Oh, fuck. Sorry. I should have given you a hat or something.”

The two stood there in awkward silence. Ty Lee turned staring off into the distance praying this Uber would get here soon. Couldn’t this guy just walk wherever he was going and leave her to sulk in her walk/ride of shame?

Thankfully, the Spirits took pity on her and her ride pulled up. She gave Hot Guy a small nod, not wanting to really acknowledge him and her embarrassment,  and then got in. As the driver pulled away, he began chattering about his cabbage farming business. Ty Lee stared out the window, trying to forget this terrible morning. She opened the bag of fireflakes for comfort as they got further and further away from the scene of her horrifying morning.

[green-spear-of-causality]

For the OTP prompts thing, 6 Proto-Cu and Robin again? Sorry for asking again, I just really enjoy your writing.

6. "Here, take my blanket/jacket." "I'm not cold." *Shivering*

Ah, thank you!! I realized that the last prompt you asked me barely hinted at the ship at all, which I'm going to make up for here! I should really change up the POV, though...if this pairing is requested again it'll be from Robin's POV!

(Lowkey read the 6 as a 4 and started laughing at the mental image of Robin hissing at Proto Cú like a cat)

----

Proto Cú loved winter.

The smell of freshly fallen snow, the blanket of white across the landscape, the tiny fluffy crystals floating down towards the ground from the heavens...

He loved it all.

His other counterparts, unfortunately, shared other opinions. Cascú griped about the heat being turned up in Chaldea, which usually upset his concentration and raised his already abnormal body temperature. The layers of clothing he had on certainly weren't helping any. The other Lancer complained about the cold forcing them and their Master off of the battlefield, which meant less fights for Lancer and more time to do anything but fight. And Alter...

Proto was pretty sure that Alter hibernated.

So when Master suggested that they go see the auroras at the North Pole the night of Christmas Eve, Proto Cú was ecstatic. He was so ecstatic that he forgot to bring any extra layers with him, opting for a thin black turtleneck and relying on his own abnormal body temperature to keep him warm. Emiya, with his parental instinct, had managed to give him a pair of dark blue earmuffs to protect his ears from the biting winds before they left.

And protect they did. Proto Cú wrapped his arms around himself, glancing at the other Servants who gathered for the sights. He could see Diarmuid and Jeanne leaning against his Alter counterpart, talking quietly with smiles that refused to leave their faces. To his left was Arthur, awkwardly wedged between Gilgamesh and Ozymandias, the other kings' laughter trapping him in place.

Proto Cú winced. I kinda feel bad for the guy.

"Oi, there you ar- What are you wearing?!"

Proto Cú regretfully let go of his hold on himself to face Robin Hood, who stared incredulously at him as he made his way over.

He grinned, waving him over. Ever since the pranking incident gone wrong a couple weeks back, Robin seemed to hang out with him more often and even gave him a portion of his food for breakfast.

Sometimes, too, they'd visit Robin's forest to talk for hours on end. Proto Cú liked those moments the best; there, Robin was more open, more honest with both himself and others. Those moments always left Proto Cú wanting more, though for what he didn't know.

Robin's voice brought him back to the present. "Where's your coat?"

Proto Cú's grin turned sheepish. "I...may have left it behind."

Robin's eyes glinted, scrutinizing his face. Proto Cú's cheeks started to warm under the intense examination. Wait, what? "You got too worked up about the event, didn't you?"

Proto Cú's sudden interest in the snow made him huff in exasperation. The Lancer spared a glance his way, and was surprised to find something fond in the way he looked at him. What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking like this?

He glanced away, missing the frown that flashed across Robin's face. Before either of them could break the awkward silence, Da Vinci stepped up onto a soap box and spread their arms out wide.

"Hey, everybody! Thanks for coming out tonight! The auroras are supposed to appear any minute now, so please turn your attention upwards!"

Dozens of eyes turned towards the sky...and Proto Cú's breath was blown away.

A myriad of colors painted the sky, flowing and billowing on an unseen wind. The snow that fell into their faces was fluffy but light, allowing them to get a good look at the sight before them.

An uncontrollable grin spread across Proto Cú's face. In the background, he can hear other Servants cheering and the younger Servants playing in the snow.

Proto Cú himself laughed, the sound drowned out by the cacophony of voices that rose up in wonder. This...is what I'm fighting for. Screw Solomon's Grand Order; we don't need it.

His happy mood was interrupted by a sneeze. It was so sudden that it took himself by surprise, and it was only a few seconds afterwards that he felt how cold it was.

He shivered, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm them up. He was starting to regret not picking a heftier sweater to wear...

Robin sighed next to him, the closeness of the sound making him jump. "You can be an idiot, sometimes. Here; take my cloak."

Proto Cú's eyes narrowed, his head turning to look at him. "What - "

He stopped when Robin moved to place himself in front of him. He was already unclasping his hood, hands quickly yet gently reclasping it around Proto Cú.

Robin refused to look at him. "Just shut up and let me work."

After a few moments Robin took a step back, satisfied with his handiwork, and Proto Cú's words died in his throat.

It was...warm. It was certainly warmer than he thought it'd be. The cloak quickly warmed him up, and he buried his nose into the fabric with a contented sigh. The fact that it smelled like pine trees, like Robin made the temporary gift all the better.

He looked up, beaming. "Hey, thanks Robin!"

Robin made a strangled noise, turning away. It was then that Proto Cú noticed how red his ears were, not to mention the dark green sweater that looked more like a coat.

"...Don't sweat it. Bathory gave me this to wear, so that was just getting in the way."

"Hey, don't say it like it's something repulsive!" Bathory seemed to appear out of thin air, making them jump.

A knowing smile stretched across her face, as teasing as it was merciless. "Ah, so this is why you ran off."

Robin gritted his teeth, turning away from her disdainfully. "As if. I'll take anything to get away from your energy."

Proto Cú blinked. He wasn't blind; Bathory's teasing, Robin's curt sentences, the stiffness in his movements. A grin threatened to break out on his face as he hugged Robin's arm, pulling him away from Bathory.

"Yup, he's mine, so go find someone else!"

Bathory stood, dumbfounded, until a laugh tore its way out of her body. "Ah, so that's it. My bad, I didn't know he was taken!"

Robin gaped.

Bathory waved them off, still laughing. "Have fun, you two!"

Proto Cú passed by his older Lancer counterpart, who looked ready to tease him when Emiya wrapped a black scarf around his neck. The Archer did it with such care that the other Lancer's words died on his tongue instantly, eyes wide and a blush spreading on his face like wildfire.

Proto Cú grinned. "Having fun with your date, older me?"

"Bite me." Fsn Cú grumbled, even as Emiya turned away with his ears burning. Proto Cú felt rather than saw Robin chuckling beside him, although it came out choppy.

Once they were a considerable distance away, Proto Cú let go. He scratched his cheek, realizing that in their escape they became separated from the partying group.

What the hell do I say now?

"...Cú."

That got his attention. Robin usually only ever called him Proto, although now that he heard his name fall from his lips...

He wanted to hear it again.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the sudden, sappy thoughts, he faced Robin. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Did you mean it?"

Ah, that. Proto rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling bashful. "Uh...yeah. You sought me out tonight, so I got dibs on you. Although, seeing your reaction was worth it in its own right..."

Robin fell silent, instead opting to watch the skies above. They stood side-by-side for about a minute or so before the May King spoke up again.

"I need to tell you something."

The seriousness in his voice made Proto Cú pause. He glanced at Robin, who stubbornly kept his gaze upwards.

"Listen...I - "

"I know."

Robin's eyes whipped towards him, mouth hanging open. "You - What...?"

Proto Cú smiled, light laughter leaving him. "I'm no dummy. I'm the Hound of Culann; I can tell when someone's pining."

Robin fell silent beside him. Proto Cú continued to talk, oblivious to the way Robin's frame shook. "Though, you hid it well. I was surprised myself; to think that the one person I was courting would end up developing feelings in tur- mmph!"

Lips, soft and gentle and warm, covered his own. Hands gripped his shoulders, preventing him from leaving. Eventually, Proto Cú melted into the kiss, hand reaching up to tilt Robin's head and get a better angle.

This was...sweet. It felt nice; it felt right. Proto Cú may have only kissed a few people in life, but by far the one he now shared with Robin was his favorite.

It was over all too soon, in his opinion. Robin pulled away first, looking smug. "If that's the only way to shut you up when you get going, then I'm gonna have a hell of a time doing this."

Proto Cú stared, dazed. Robin's eyes widened before a blush of his own erupted, causing him to hide his face in his sweater.

"Wh-What the hell are you doing, giving someone that look? I swear, you're gonna be the end of me..."

Proto Cú snapped out of it, instead chuckling as he carefully pried Robin's hands away from his face. Robin refused to look up, suddenly finding interest in the snow on the ground.

"You think I'm gonna let you go after a stunt like that?" He whispered as he drew Robin in for another kiss.

Indeed, winter was his favorite season.

[sistersblack]

severuses replied to your post “Any tips on how to create a distinct prose? Your style is my favorite...”

I'm so excited for this post! Fell in love with your style and wanted to learn how to do it. :)

💖💖💖

i really can’t stress how much writing what you want helps, though. i spent years writing not-great fics for a semi-rare otp that barely anyone engaged with, and it did wonders. i know it can be discouraging when what you want to write isn’t what people want to read, but doing it anyway def pays off

example under a cut because i know severus/draco isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (and also it got long), but it’s the ship i’ve been writing the longest so it’s the easiest to show my progress with.

from my first fic for them, written when i was like... 13? 14? (admittedly i went back and edited the worst of it a few years ago, but still). 

When Snape leaves for days at a time, performing tasks for the Dark Lord, Draco can’t sleep. He tosses and turns, shreds clothing and kicks his blankets. He’s too worried about Severus. He knows the man might not return. That scares the living shit out of the Malfoy heir. He’s used to having Snape there, looming over him, hovering in the background, just there.

The boy has waited up most nights wondering what’s going on outside the old, run down house they’re staying in. He hasn’t been outside since they fled Hogwarts, still hiding from the world. Severus should be hiding too, if he’s seen he’ll be killed. Draco tries not to think about that. So, naturally, that’s all he can think of. He stays up late at night making scenarios of Severus’ death, each more painful and gruesome than the one before. He’s torturing himself and he knows it; it’s just a matter of time before he snaps.

it’s not really bad, it’s just that over almost 10 years of writing them i’ve managed to get to this (written sept 2019, from my last posted fic for them)

The thing is, Draco knows Severus more intimately than most people who pass here. When he thinks of him, it’s not the way people would expect: he’s not Professor Snape, cold and commandeering, not the heartless right hand of He Who Must Not Be Named, and under no circumstances has he ever bloody been Dumbledore’s Man. No. Draco knows Severus Snape in terms of sensation: the press of teeth to his collarbone, the edge of a nail, sharp as it scrapes over skin, the gentle touch of cracked lips, the warm gust of wet breath, the guttural groan of unimaginable pain, the lingering twitch after a bout of torture, the scar along his left thigh, his right wrist, the nape of his neck, the stretch of his shoulder, the dip of his chest, the lines of his back; knows the smell of smoke and dragon’s blood, the touch of tongue, the scratch of fabric, the way his body folds in the night. These are the memories he keeps, sacred and intimate. This is the reason he visits—a refreshers course, if you will. In all the ways he knows a dead man.

which feels much more me. i think writing what you want/love makes it easy to find yourself in yourself in your work, and that’s where a distinct style develops, imo.