#there was no pumpkin thing this morning. I was so scared what you meant

[klanced]

turn on your boop meter you coward

I saw this ask at 8am and I was like my WHAT

[bangaveragewhitewine]

blood red bloom

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship) 

Halloween, 1992

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to come up with a prank that will actually scare me, sweet thing.”

Eddie’s voice echoes in your head as you stare at the red inky star in your little leatherette diary.

A late period wasn’t quite what you had in mind, but here you are, sitting on your bedroom floor and staring at the mocking inky red star in your diary.

This Halloween was turning out to be pretty damn scary.

Word Count: 6.7k

Content / Warnings: Pregnancy scare - this is angst-heavy with some brief mentions of Eddie and reader's anxieties of being parents. Discussion of the future. Miscommunication. A fight that's not a fight but they kiss and make up anyway. Brief sex mentions. A reminder that this, and all my fics, are 18+!!!

Please feel free to skip this segment if it’s not your thing!!

Author's note: We couldn't let Halloween pass without an instalment of Happy Hours, could we? This was a toughy, it's been a rough and hectic few weeks, but I hope you enjoy reading the latest snippet! Proof-read by @specialagentmonkey, finished off in the taxis to / from the airports in Dublin and Boston!

Since the first day with a chill in the air, the first fallen crunchy-crisp leaf, your boyfriend had been in Halloween mode. It was your second Halloween together, your first living together after you accepted Eddie’s cute proposal with his spare key in June. Even though he was messy and left the toilet seat up, you loved living with Eddie. 

You loved waking up with him every morning and falling asleep together every night. You loved going grocery shopping together, and you adored how he would sit in the bathroom to talk to you or read his book while you lounged in the bath or did your makeup.

Autumn and Halloween meant horror movies, decorating the apartment and planning your costumes together. Eddie was stupidly talented with carving pumpkins, and you roasted the flesh with thyme and sage and onions for a huge pot of soup that warmed your bellies for days. 

During your first year together, he had noticed how you scared easily - jumped a little or clutched your chest when he accidentally jumpscared you or purposefully snuck up to grab the squish of your hips with a monster-like growl. It always made him laugh, and his apology was always a kiss that quite often turned into something more.

You quickly learned that you could never get him back. 

Yeah, Eddie was jumpy but he possessed a sixth sense for whenever you were trying to scare him. 

When he had challenged you to scare him - to really scare him - you’re not sure that realising that your period was later-than-late was quite what he had in mind. 

A rare Friday night off, October 30th, had started with another failed attempt to spook him. He was almost condescendingly kind when he said ‘ooh, that was a good one!’ after you popped up from that cramped back seat of his Dodge. 

Once you clambered out of the car so Eddie could make it to work on time, he pulled you in for a kiss and cupped your face with such tenderness.

“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to come up with a prank that will actually scare me, sweet thing.” 

He kissed your pouty scowl away with his wicked smile and left you to enjoy your night off. 

His challenge to scare him echoed in your head as you stared at the last inky red star scribbled in your diary. The hardwood floor felt chilly beneath you as you knelt on the ground surrounded by lipstick and pens and detritus from your bag spilled around you.

Thirty-six. 

Your period was thirty-six days late. A whole period missed.

The little leatherette diary fell from your shaky hands. If you hadn’t already been on the ground, you are sure your knees would have buckled. 

Slumped against the side of the bed, you rested your racing head against the navy duvet - the blood-red blooming rose print seemed mocking as you tried to remember if you had definitely written your dates down correctly. Your periods were pretty regular, never more than two or three days out of sync if even that many. 

You hadn’t even thought about your period, or its lateness, until you spied the full box of Kotex next to Eddie’s shaving kit beneath the sink. As the bath filled with lavender bubbles and swirling steamy water, you had pondered on how you liked seeing your things side by side now that you lived together; your dresses hanging next to his nice shirts and jackets, toothbrushes sitting in the same holder, your perfumes and potions lined up and organised next to his new shampoo and conditioner replacing the horror that was 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner and body wash.

As you gave a pot of fresh-green facemask the sniff test, the box of period products had caught your eye. 

Eddie had picked them up for you during a particularly bad set of cramps, cramps so bad you had called out of work. He had arrived home with salty Lays and sweet creamy chocolate and the biggest pack of painkillers they would let him buy, and you had cried because it was so kind and thoughtful of him. But that had been well over a month ago… 

As the filling bath turned to white noise in your ears, you had flustered to the bedroom to check your diary. 

The thirty-six (almost thirty-seven) day lag made you feel like you were going to turn inside out. And not because you were cramping up this time. 

The bath was cold by the time you arrived back from a late expedition to the CVS five blocks away, armed with a share-bag of Reeses Peanutbutter Cups and a pink box that promised ‘quick and easy results!’ 

A year in and neither of you could keep your hands to yourselves. Moving in together had meant that you and Eddie had endless pockets of time together, and rooms and surfaces to officially christen as a cohabiting couple. Eddie’s car had seen some action when you took a road trip back to Hawkins to visit his Uncle a few weeks ago - the driver's seat, that cramped back seat, the bonnet… 

When Eddie arrived home from work just after 3 a.m., you still had not touched the test or had a wink of sleep. He crept in like your favourite cryptid and dropped a kiss on your head, trying with all his might not to wake you as you feigned sleep. He settled behind you and fell into a sprawling-limbed rest while you lay awake.

In those dark hours, lit only by the red glow of the clock, you imagined every scenario.

The thought of a little one with dark curly hair and big brown eyes makes your heart ache in a good way, especially when you think of this imaginary little person in Eddie’s arms. That ache twisted like a knife when you imagine him not wanting anything to do with that made-up little person, half him and half you. 

You were never set firmly for or against being a mother - of course you got broody sometimes when you saw a cute kid in the grocery store, but equally you had been more than happy to hand back your cousin’s screaming baby when his diaper leaked on you when you visited home back in the spring. 

And Eddie? Did he even want to be a Dad? 

He had a lot of tangled-up feelings there, held them in his chest like a pulled-tight knot. That’s how he explained it when his own Dad had come up in conversation. He carried that sadness and hurt with him for almost two decades. 

Would he want you to get rid of it, or would he even want you if it was really happening? You tried to be rational, think about how he had promised to love you when you had silver hair and dentures one night when you were both high as kites. Maybe it might be okay, you could make it work… 

Sleep came and went, pockets of light dozing interrupted by your heart thrashing in your chest just when you managed to snatch some peace. 

As Eddie snored softly, peacefully asleep, you glared at the red-glowing clock, its analogue numbers mocking you until 5:55 blurred behind your eyes. Caged in by the weight of Eddie’s arm, with his hand on your tummy beneath your (his) sleep-shirt, you managed to drift again.

The pitiful pockets of snatched sleep make you feel irritable and wrung out the following day. With a steaming mug of strong coffee, you watched the sun peak through the broad silver-grey sky while Eddie slept on, snoring and unaware. 

You still couldn’t summon the courage to sneak the test from your bag and pee on the damn stick. In true Halloween style, it mocked you like Poe’s Tell Tale Heart all damn day from its stowing place in a bag under the bed. 

Eddie was unbearably sweet with you from the moment he woke to find you re-reading the same page of your book for at least the eighth try. 

It didn’t take long for him to figure out that you weren’t in good form - despite your joint excitement for Halloween - so he tried and tried to cheer you up; a late breakfast sneaking smiley kisses over egg and cheese and home fries. With a wide smile, he shared his ideas for a new drawing for a new batch of Corroded Coffin T-shirts for their gig before Thanksgiving with hot sauce staining his mouth until you wiped it away.

You kept getting distracted when he showed them to you and felt awful when you saw the flicker of hurt on his sweet handsome face. You rallied yourself and helped him pick two to show to the guys when they met to rehearse. 

You finally snatched some sleep, cuddled up on the sofa before you had to get ready for work. Eddie hated having to wake you; he was as gentle as he could be, rousing you with light kisses to your troubled brow and warm cheeks. 

“Hey, princess. Time to transform,” he whispered, his fingers itching with excitement to don the black velvet and silver chains draped on hangers in your room. 

Hours later, you and Eddie walked into Jackie’s carrying a tense air between your joined hands. 

You were still the sexiest vampire couple Chicago had ever seen; Eddie in a halfway unbuttoned black shirt and slacks topped with a velvet blazer you had thrifted, silver chains shining on his chest and fake blood smeared like your lipstick on the side of his mouth. Your black velvet dress showed off your curves and made Eddie’s eyes pop out of his skull like a cartoon when he first saw you in it. The bloody puncture marks on your neck dripped onto your chest and cleavage, the perfect blend of gore and sex appeal. 

You felt shitty, had snapped at Eddie more times than you could remember while you tried and failed to make your makeup look not terrible. 

“You look hot as fuck, baby. Have I told you that?” Eddie squeezed your shoulders as he looked at your reflection in the small vanity he had bought for you when you moved in. He was sweet like that. 

“Mhm. Only ten or eleven times.” Tight smile, you met his warm gaze in the mirror. “Not as hot as you, Ed,” you say, pushing off the attention he doled out so genuinely and easily. 

The subtle dark shadows below his cheeks and smudged smoky beneath his eyes suit him, gothic and mysterious. You had spent more time on it than you had planned because he couldn’t stop talking and you had (quite seriously) threatened to stab him with your brushes on more than one occasion. Now you were pressed for time with your own makeup. Clock ticking, you were at least thankful that the shadows beneath your eyes didn’t need much more darkening up. 

“Nah, fuck off. You’re beyond belief. I can’t wait until after work already.” That glow in Eddie’s eyes that usually sparked hot want in your belly made you feel like prey. Sure, you were dressed as his recently-changed victim but you didn’t feel much like play-acting now, or sex for that matter. 

He kissed your head and breathed in your perfume - he loved how you changed it out for the seasons - and the Fall’s scent was rich and warm and sexy. 

“Feelin’ okay?” Eddie had asked when you went silent and spaced out again for a few moments, shoulders tensed. He missed your usually returned flirtation when you give as good as you get and then some. 

“For the hundredth time, Ed. I’m fine. Please just let me finish this, okay? Please. We’re gonna be late.” 

Since then it had been pretty much radio silence.  

Eddie stewed, not rising to your bad mood because he might say the wrong thing and make things worse. In the car, he had bit his tongue and held back the suggestion of a weekend away, the idea to book some time off around Thanksgiving and just go somewhere together, alone. He wasn’t sure he could take another unexplained sad sigh or an away-with-the-fairies gaze when you hadn’t even heard what he had said. 

So he said nothing and scared himself with his own spiralling ‘what if’.  

Instead of eking out the last few minutes before work with Eddie, sharing a cig and trading kisses like you usually do, you leave him to enjoy his cigarette without your dark cloud mood. 

“Hey. You’re forgetting something.” Eddie raises a brow at you. 

“Oh, thanks.” You hold your hand out for your bag he had carried from the car. 

You lean up and peck his cheek, swiping at the mark your dark lipstick left behind. 

It wasn’t the proper kiss he had been angling for, but it was better than nothing. 

“See you later?” he tries. 

“Yeah, if I can get away from the bar. It’s going to be mental busy…” Resisting the urge to rub your eyes and ruin your makeup, you offer a small smile. “Be good. Love you.” 

“Yeah, love you too.” 

Eddie watches you go, his heart hurting in a way it hasn’t since he finally mustered the courage to kiss you in that same dingy back alley. Yeah, you two had your little arguments over the last year, didn’t always agree and got in funny moods with each other, but this felt different. He didn’t like it one bit. 

The bar is the fullest you have ever seen it, everyone decked out in their Halloween-best. Your arms ache from shaking cocktails, but the special menu you had curated is going down a treat. The pain is worth the tips and the compliments, the recommendations passed between high-top tables and clusters of costumed customers. 

The music is loud, the atmosphere sparky and fun, and yet it isn’t enough of a distraction, or enough to buoy you up when you’re feeling so low. Not the compliments on your costume, or the questions about whether you and the hottie bouncer were matching on purpose. You forced your smiles and laughs, genuine love for your vampire lord on the door made it easy to answer those probing questions. You tried to get out of your head and lose yourself in the best night of the year, but every time you would remember the last inky red star in your diary, the full box beneath the sink, the test you were scared to take. 

You weren’t necessarily avoiding Eddie, you had filled waters for him and Jeff and the new guy Trevor, but had barely had time to look for him in the crowd, never mind checking in on him. Your mood had transferred over to him, and your guy twisted tighter with extra added guilt. 

It was well after midnight before you took your break; the bar had been rammed with orders and while you could have slipped away, you threw yourself into work instead. 

The need to stretch out your legs and hips and crack your back for good measure became undeniable and you slip away with a glass of ice-and-lime heavy soda water for a breath of cold air. 

You’re mid-sip when Eddie pulls you into the small staff bathroom, spilling your water down your arm and onto the busted tiles. You yelp as the door clicks, pure fear until you realise it’s him

“What the- Eddie!”

Eddie’s gaze bores down on you, looking like a very pissed-off sexy vampire. 

“You fucker! Scared the shit outta me, Ed.” You shake chilled water from your arm as you glare at him. He was lucky not to have glass in that pretty, pissed-off face of his. 

“What the fuck is up your ass today?” he asks, arms folded. 

Your skin prickles all over, hairs stand on end. 

“You’re in a foul fuckin’ mood. What’s up? Did I do something?” Less accusatory now, he just looks hurt.

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You will your voice to stay steady as your stomach drops.  

“It’s not. You’ve barely spoke to me, every little thing I do has annoyed you.” “It’s not you…” 

That sounds way worse and you see him visibly wince. 

“Ed, it’s not your fault, baby. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, shoulders deflated. “Then talk to me. Please.”

“Ed…”

“Am I not making you happy? Is that it?”

“No! Jesus, Ed. Never! You make me so happy..”

“Then what?! Please just talk to me.” His voice breaks. 

“I… fuck.” You sigh, breathe deep. Your eyes strong as you speak, say it out loud, “My period is late.”

His brow creases, confused, before folding high under his bangs. Eddie’s eyes are wide, frantic. “Oh.” 

Silence settles, no more voices echoing on the tiles. 

“Yeah. Oh.” 

“Fuck… Are you..? Are we..?”

There’s a sweetness in how he asks, a scared look in his eyes that you recognise from the mirror. It makes your tummy twist and your heart ache. Why had you been so scared?

“I don’t know.” Your voice is cracked and broken. “I don’t know.”

His arms open out to you. You don’t need a second invitation. You practically fall into his arms, gripping him as tight as you can. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispers. Eddie’s heart hammers hard in his chest. “We’ll figure it out.” 

As he holds you close, his eyes cast upward to the grotty ceiling. He has no idea what he’s doing, but right now you need a hug so that’s what he will do. 

“I’m sorry.”

His big-ringed hands hold your face, looking into your tired eyes. “Why sorry? Pretty sure it takes two… if you’re. Y’know.”

You sniffle, nod. “I know. I don’t know if I am..” 

“You need to piss on a stick or somethin’, right?” 

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, despite the tears in your eyes. “Yeah. I do.” 

“Okay. Okay, you can do that. I’ll even hold the stick if you want me to.” He’s dead serious too, not just trying to make you smile. Though it is a bonus, and he melts into a little grin to match. “There’s my princess.” 

You cuddle back into him again, “Sorry I was a bitch all day.” 

“You know I don’t like that, baby.” He frowns and cups the back of your head, stroking gently with his thumb. “Knew there was something wrong though. Wish you could’ve just told me.”

“I…” Your voice gets caught in your throat, words lodged and stuck like they choke you. “I was scared.” 

Though your voice is muffled against Eddie’s jacket, he hears you and squeezes you tighter. His eyes squeeze shut too. 

“You don’t need to be scared on your own. I can take it, I’m a big boy,” he promises, repeating it so you know it’s true and real. “We’ll figure it all out.” 

His sweetness makes tears flood down your face, that dam holding back every conflicting emotion finally broken. And Eddie holds you. He simply holds you tight and safe and doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know either. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to kiss this better, doesn’t know what he wants or what you want either. All he knows is that you need him like he needs you. 

“Fuck, my makeup,” you sniffle, face creasing more when you realise you’re still mid-shift. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he promises, kissing your forehead. “Okay so, we’ll work our butts off for another few hours and then we can go home and swing by CVS?” 

“I already bought one. It’s at home.” You look down at your toe-to-toe boots before looking into Eddie’s eyes. “Bought one last night when I realised. Too chicken to take it.”

He nods, pinches your chin with sweet affection. “Okay. Well, drink your water so you can piss on that stick, yeah?” 

He’s smirking when you hide your face in his neck again, groaning in something like embarrassment. “I’d do it for you if I could. But I can’t, so drink up.”

Eddie lifts your glass from the sink ledge and tilts it to your lips. Despite the warmth of his arms and the stuffy little bathroom, the water makes you shiver as it cools you from inside out. 

Hand in hand, Eddie walks you to fix your makeup at your locker as he distracts you with a few of his little anecdotes from working the door. He catches your eye in the mirror in your locker as he tells you about a table of drinkers he heard raving about your cocktail menu. 

“Can you make me one later?” he asks, coming to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Course,” you murmur, patting deep Merlot-red lipstick on your pouty mouth. 

“Can I get some of that?” He raises a brow in the mirror, and smiles, his teeth glinting, when you tilt your head back to press a peck against his mouth. 

A few kisses and the squeeze of his hands on your hips centres you again, helps the tension loosen in your shoulders. 

“We need more fake blood.”

“We definitely do. Want me to bite you a little more, my pet?” His voice is wickedly low against your lip; it makes you shiver. 

Sexy vampire couple had been an easy pick for you both. Eddie had got really into it when you arrived home with the press on fangs - a hookup from your friend who worked in theatre production and went costume shopping with you.

“You’ll get carried away again, Drac. I’ve gotta go back out in a sec.”

He squeezes your hips and behaves himself as you dab fake blood against the corner of his mouth, letting it drip down his chin, before adding more to your neck and chest. 

“Hot.”

“We are.” 

He hugs you from behind again, one hand on your tummy, so he doesn’t mess up the blood. “S’gonna be okay, I promise. We’ll figure shit out. I’m behind you no matter what. Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d be fucking lost without you, Eddie.”

“Right back at you, sweet stuff.” 

A well-aimed kiss saves any blood transferring onto your face before Eddie walks you back to the bar. “If you need a sec, just take it. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.” 

He smiles and steals a final kiss before patting your velvet-clad behind as you step right back into taking orders. 

You don’t see the moment he takes, ducking into the back again to process what was going on. You pour cold beers as he sinks against the wall, breathing deeply so he doesn’t spiral into panic.

He doesn't know how to be a Dad, didn’t have a map or footprints to follow. Wayne was a great substitute, but Eddie was nine years old and grown beyond his years by the time he stepped up to try and fill the gaps made by his no-good brother. 

Ringed fingers push and scrape against his scalp, tugging hard enough to bring him back to earth. The pain anchors him, reminds him to breathe again. 

He doesn’t know what to do, how to feel, how to be what you need. But he does know one thing. 

Running away isn’t an option, not when he has you. 

It’s almost 4 a.m. before you can leave with Eddie. It’s almost 4 a.m. and he keeps you tucked safe and warm beneath his arm as you walk toward his car. You can see your breath bleed into vapour in the now-November air. 

You feel like you have been run over by a semi-truck as you fold yourself into your seat. Everything hurts and yet you’re somehow wired and wide awake, even on the pitiful amount of sleep you managed last night. 

Tired eyes stare into the streetlight above the car until you see spots. Brought back into orbit by the squeeze of Eddie’s hand over your fishnets, you share a tight smile with him. 

“Okay?”

“Ish. Tired. Need to pee.”

You had been holding it in. No more excuses, or avoiding the inevitable. 

You help Eddie click off the little fangs on his already pointy canines and do the same with your own, tucking them into their boxes and into your bag. Shiny gold plastic medals sit on your chests, your prizes for the best costumes among the Jackie’s crew. 

He turns the key, squeezes again before hooking his arm works the headrest to reverse out of his spot. 

You’re both carrying the weight of the unknown. It doesn’t feel any lighter. Not when you have caught Eddie chewing his black-polished nails and the skin around them, seen him zoning out and pretending he was fine. 

Until you know more, have an answer, you can be not okay together, hand in hand in the darkness. 

Once you’re on the road, he squeezes your hand and keeps a hold of it as music from the radio fills the silence. 

“You hungry?” Your voice is the first to breach the fragile peace. 

“Kinda. You want fries?” 

“Not really but if you do, it’s my turn.”

He smiles, slight and soft, and squeezes your hand. “There’s some spaghetti left. I’ll heat that up.” 

You squeeze back, it’s enough to say ‘okay’ as he sails through green lights and empty streets toward your cosy little apartment. 

The walk from the car to the lift to your door, apartment number 8 with its handcrafted Halloween wreath, feels like wading through syrup. 

Eddie doesn’t let go of your hand from the moment he helps you out of the car; not when you press the button for the lift, or when he fights with the sticky lock that you have been meaning to call maintenance about. It locks easier from the inside, the bolt slides in easily to double-lock it safely. 

Eddie takes your jacket to hang side by side with his own, matching leathers that make you smile through the pressure at the back of your eyes. 

“I wanna clean my face and then do it,” you murmur, fiddling with the strap of your bag. 

“Okay. We can do that. Clean faces and pyjamas.” Eddie nods, a held-in breath puffing his chest up with false confidence. 

He eats cold spaghetti from a Tupperware container by the fridge as you strip out of your clothes and change into fuzzy leopard bottoms and a holey She-Ra t-shirt once the fake blood is swiped from your chest. 

The pink and white box from under the bed comes with you to the bathroom. 

Eddie joins you at the mirror with oily rich red spaghetti sauce slicing through the fake blood around his mouth. You clean your face as he strips down to boxers and pulls on his soft sleep hoodie that definitely has a concoction of questionable stains; toothpaste and your sleep-drool for sure. 

Red and black stained makeup wipes and cotton pads fill the bathroom bin and Eddie lets you comb and scrunchie his hair as you ignore the pressing need to pee for a few more moments of normality. He closes his eyes as you rub cleanser into his face as you had your own, gentle touches and swipes of wet-warm cotton until he’s shiny-clean and human-looking again. 

With a layer of moisturiser on, there are no more distractions. The boxed test can no longer be ignored. 

“Will I go?”

“You can come back in after I pee. We have to wait like..” you check the box for an answer, “Ten minutes.” 

Eddie nods, leaning down to kiss you once. “You don’t need me to hold the stick or anything?” 

“I have to pee in a little cup-thing and drop it onto the stick. Chemistry shit,” you shrug, cheeks warm. 

“Oh yeah, rules me out then.” He drops one more kiss to your lips before awkwardly taking his leave. 

You feel less alone when you know he’s lingering close by. 

Eddie doesn’t realise that he’s picked up stress-tidying from you until the bathroom door creaks open and you find him crouched amongst a clutter of unorganised tapes. 

“Can you time ten minutes on your watch? Or the egg timer?” you ask, hanging against the doorframe.  

The tapes are shoved back into a nonsensical stack - not organised by artist or chronology as he had planned to do - and Eddie scurries to grab his old Casio watch before joining you in the bathroom again. 

He slightly panics when he sees you sitting on the floor, but crouches to join you with cracking ankles. 

“Old man ankles,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Mmhm, getting more like Wayne every day,” he murmurs back, dropping his hand in your lap for you to hold. 

Cradled between your palms, you lift it to kiss the side of his thumb. 

“Wayne is great. Just keep your hair. Please.” “Deal.”

Silence settles across the room and you watched the way Eddie’s socked feet bounce nervously. 

“Eddie?”  “Yeah?”  “What are we going to do?” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your hair, bumping the side of his face against your wobbly scrunchied bun. 

His voice is quiet. “We don’t know yet.”

“I know that. But it… I’ve been going crazy thinking, Ed. I know you have too.” You squeeze his hand. “Would you want me to get rid of it?” 

That idea plucks something painful in his chest. The knot of tangled emotions feels heavier than ever. 

“No. Only if that’s what you really wanted. I’m not gonna make you do anything, especially not anything you don’t want to do.” His murmured words are warm on your head and your heart. 

“I feel like I’m being pulled apart. Like… I’m just so confused about what to do, Eddie..” His arms wrap around you, hugging you close. 

“That’s okay. That’s okay,” he promises. 

After a few beats of silence, you feel like you can breathe deep enough to say the words that have been rattling around your head. “I… I do want kids. Some day. With you.”

He nods, agreeing before going quiet again. He thinks, tries to choose his words carefully. 

“If that day is like.. nine months away, is that okay with you?” he asks. 

“That’s the scary bit.”  “Yeah.” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be a Mom yet. What if I do it wrong?”

Eddie gives you a sad smile. “That’s how I feel too.”

Your foreheads rest together, eyes closed. 

“What if I’m never ready? What if I always feel like this?” you continue, leaning your cheek against Eddie’s steady palm. “I’m so happy with you, Eddie. What if this changes us, fucks us up?”

Dry lips press against your forehead, his thumbs swipe your cheek soothingly as you admit the fears that he has been holding too.

You hug him again, squeeze Eddie hard. 

“My mom and dad had me by our age.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper against your cheek. “And… it went so wrong, that I’m scared I can’t do it right.” 

You squeeze him tight, brushing loose hairs back from his face as his truth spills, unwound from that knot in his chest.

“I just wanna… I want to do it right. For us. For a baby. I want them to feel so fucking loved and happy. I’m so fucking scared, but… I know what to not do. I don’t want to be like him.”

Your heart breaks for that hurt little boy. You had seen him in photo albums and yearbooks, seen him with your own eyes when Eddie had bad days. He’s with you now, looking lost under the shitty bathroom light.

“You won’t be like him. You’re not him, Ed.”

“What if I am? And I just don’t know it?” There’s a frantic smashed-broken edge to his voice.

You crawl onto his lap, a knee on either side of his thighs so you can hold him properly, see his face. Swiping the beaded tears on his black lower lashes, you return that kiss to his forehead. 

“You are not your Dad. You just said it, you know what not to do yeah? That’s so important, baby.” You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. 

He nods, wiping his face with his sleeve. His fingers drop to press against his chest like he is massaging the knot to free up his words. “I don’t want to let you down either.”

“You never have, Ed. Never ever.” 

His head rests back against the bath as you hold each other. Both scared, but it feels less utterly impossible and all-consuming. 

“I think… maybe, it’s good that we’re kinda scared. Because it means we care.” Eddie looks up at you, smooths his hand up your side. 

“And babies are kinda scary.” “Oh yeah. Absolutely terrifying.” “Cute though.” “Oh, for sure. That one in the park last week, with the bobble hat..?” “Cute as fuck.”

You share a smiling little kiss before he brings you back for another long holding hug. 

It’s easy to get lost in your head, trying to add up your very minimal savings with the cost of a baby, a bigger apartment.

You had both agreed that while you liked your jobs, you didn’t want to be there forever. Eddie wanted to get some more experience with music technology, maybe take a few courses and start teaching guitar lessons again to make extra cash on the side. 

It’s early morning now; your routine is all over the place with your late shifts and sleepy afternoons.

After a few moments of silence, Eddie speaks again, bringing you both back from the meandering paths in your minds. 

“I’m gonna marry you, y’know.”

You smile, knowing that you both wanted that happy ending. “Yeah? You gonna make me Mrs Munson?”

“Yeah, for sure. Knew that since the day I met you, baby.” He rolls his eyes, playful and pink-cheeked to distract from how raw he still feels. 

The swell in your chest makes you sob-laugh. 

“You gonna say yes?” he asks, just in case. “When I ask, I mean. This isn’t me asking, by the way. That’ll be way more romantic.”

“Okay.” You roll your eyes at him. “When you ask me, yeah. I’ll say yes.” 

“Okay. Cool.” “Cool.” 

Another smiling kiss, noses bumping each other’s cheek as you imagine your future together.

You have this feeling in your gut that this man holding you, letting you hold him, will be a great Dad someday. Eddie thinks you will be a great Mom; with you by his side, he feels like he can do anything.

“Ed?” you murmur against his lip. “They have to look like you or I’m gonna be pissed. Whenever that is.”

“Nah, get outta here. Poor kid.” He pokes gently at your ribs with wiggling fingers, stops you from squirming away with another hug. 

“Been thinking about a little baby with curly hair and brown eyes,” you admit quietly, mumbling against his neck.

“You been spending too much time in those photo albums with Wayne.” 

“It was one afternoon. Your Mom had hundreds of photos of you, Ed. It’s sweet that he kept them, and started his own albums.” 

Your fingers fiddle with the drawstrings on his hoodie as Eddie loses himself down that same path of practicality, lit by glowing reminders that he has to grow up someday soon. 

“I’m gonna get those fliers for guitar lessons printed next week. Get some cash together. I have some amps I could sell…” 

“Ed, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know but.. we can’t have loose wires and heavy shit around with a baby, baby.” 

He smiles at the word-play and your heart swells with how much you adore him. 

When your lips meet again, the tinny ring of the timer beeps on Eddie’s watch, eating up the distracted peace you had both found. 

“Want me to check?” he asks, seeing the shining fear reflected back at him when he looks into your eyes. 

“Yes please.” 

You slip off his lap and stand, holding out your hands to help Eddie up before you perch on the side of the bath. 

“One line is negative, two is positive,” you say, the pink example lines from the back of the box etched into your mind's eye. 

“Okay.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Pauses to cup your face and kiss you before going any further. 

“I love you.” His eyes are sparkling, the set of his mouth more serious.

“Love you.” 

“This doesn’t change that, okay? S’a fact.”

You nod and steal one more kiss before letting him go to the counter. 

Eddie picks up the stick, checks under the light. You watch his face, see the shadow of conflicted confusion. You know then that it’s negative. 

“One line,” he whispers, looking up at you. 

You nod, coming over to stand with him. You see the one line, solitary and stark. 

“Okay,” you whisper, tucking yourself under Eddie’s arm. 

You can’t decide if it’s relief or loss you feel; either way, it pushes you over the edge of the precipice you have been teetering on all day and you sob. 

Eddie’s hands smooth over your back in soothing strokes, up and down, as your tears soak into his hoodie. He’s not sure what to say, not quite sure how he feels. Burning pressure pushes at his eyes as he lets his cheek rest against your head. 

“I don’t know how I feel,” you manage in a small voice after a few moments. 

Eddie swipes your tears, the dripping snot too, and thinks you look beautiful. One day, he knows you will shed happy tears caused by two pink lines and he will kiss their salty joy away with a smile. 

“We don’t need to have an answer. I think we got carried away thinkin’ huh?” 

You feel bone tired, wrung out. “Yeah.”

“Let’s sleep on it.”

There’s a lingering question about your late period that you can’t fathom yet, maybe the test was a dud? Maybe your iron is low, your hormones are off. But at almost five a.m. on that chilly Sunday morning, it can wait until Monday. 

You had felt every single emotion since the evening before when you realised and now that you have an answer to the question that had terrified you, thrilled you too in some small way, you felt like a popped balloon. 

“I’m really tired.” Your voice sounds pathetic in your ears and it makes you grimace, feeling mad at yourself for getting so worked up.

“I know, baby. Let’s go to bed, okay? I’ve got you.” Eddie whispers his promise against your temple and bends his knees to lift you up. 

“Ed…” you start to complain but you’re too tired to fight, so you wrap your legs around him and hold on. 

“Shh, let me.” 

Eddie is so gentle, it makes your heart hurt. He lays you down and makes sure you are cosy, leaves ever so briefly to get some water and flick off the bathroom light before joining you in bed. 

With the lights off, you seek each other out, hold each other close. 

You feel utterly consumed by that confusing feeling, the sad relief.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart.”

“No, I... I got us all wound up and now I feel so stupid.” 

Eddie is a steady and sure anchor as your body shakes in the dark. 

“You’re not stupid.” He holds you, whispering your name a little firmer to try and bring you back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Please, don’t beat yourself up.” 

He sows kisses along your hairline as he makes his heartfelt promises. “I meant what I said. I want the future with you, all of it.”

You just nod, promise him that you want him too, forever. Slowly the tears subside, leaving you feeling beyond exhausted.

Eddie fights sleepfulness to make sure you’re okay, already at peace with the fact that you had so much ahead to look forward, to plan. 

He thinks of the antique shop windows, packed with trinkets and curios and glittering gems that you’re drawn to, like a magpie, every time you have a free afternoon to wander in the city without worry. You’re easily sidetracked by their beautiful mystery, and Eddie loves watching your awe. 

He thinks of a shiny sparkle on your finger, a little ceremony or a flight to Vegas for the hell of it, and of tiny hands to hold and teach. 

He thinks it will be okay. 

Lulled to sleep by Eddie’s stroking hands, the warmth of all of his adoration he wraps you up in, you feel peaceful and calm, and not at all scared. 

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️ 

[quietblueriver]

For prompts: Imogen/Laudna, hound of ill omen or pâté pet fluff

So this turned into nearly 4k words on Imogen and the animals she has loved? The last section at least is directly responsive. 😬 And I might supplement with hound of ill omen at some point because he's lurking around in my head, too.

Thank you so much for the fun prompt! <3

PS - Wrote this real fast so pls excuse any errors.

-

One afternoon when Imogen was six, her daddy called her into the barn and nodded over at the old wooden trough turned on its side near the stairs to the loft. She knew what it meant, gasping and scurrying in the direction of the trough, slowing to the quickest walk she could manage at her daddy’s, “No running in the barn, Imogen.” 

And then she saw them—five tiny new things, eyes closed and mouths searching, mewling and pitiful on a pile of hay inside the shelter of the worn, dusty planks. 

Lady, their mother and Imogen’s favorite barn cat, eyed Imogen as she approached, orange and white tail flicking back and forth, one black ear twitching. Imogen couldn’t read minds (not yet, anyway) but she thought she understood–she gave Lady and her kittens plenty of space, stopping before she got too close. She sat criss-cross applesauce, watching from a distance and thinking about names until her daddy put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward the house for dinner. 

For the next few weeks, she went out every morning before school and every night before bed to check on them–three orange and one calico and a pretty orange and black mix. 

“Tortoiseshell,” her daddy said as he watched Imogen watch them, the black and orange–tortoiseshell–jumping and pawing fiercely at a piece of hay that stuck up from the ground. He only stayed for a moment, wiping sweat from his forehead with the navy blue bandana he always kept in his back pocket before he said, “We’re only keeping one.” When she turned to look at him, he was already focused on pulling the rake from its hook and moving toward one of the stalls. She wanted to argue but she bit her tongue. She was getting good at that. He didn’t look at her as he added, “Don’t get too attached.” 

She did get too attached. She cried when Pumpkin and Daisy went to live with Mr. Faramore’s cousin. She tried to hide it, sniffling into the sleeve of her shirt, but her daddy saw and frowned and shook his head. “That’s how it works, Imogen. I told you.” Shame curled in her stomach, and when she wiped her face again, motion hard with anger, the button on her cuff caught her cheek and split the skin. 

A few weeks later, when Scare and Crow went to live on the farm a few miles away, Imogen hid behind the barn with Ember in her arms and watched as Crow’s little orange face peeked out from the backpack where he and his brother had been put. When the horse turned the corner and she couldn’t see him anymore, Imogen put Ember back inside the barn with Lady and cried and cried until she couldn’t anymore. Throat sore and nose running, she scrubbed at her face in the stream and wiped it dry before she went inside for dinner. 

(“Of course you were attached,” Laudna whispered to her under the moonlight in a grove far, far from Gelvaan. “They were kittens. You were six.” She heard, in Laudna’s thoughts, the undercurrent of opinions on her daddy. What an absolute jackass. Honestly. When she snorted, Laudna tilted her head in that way Imogen was coming to love, one side of her mouth pulling into a smile. Sorry, darling. I don’t mean to think ill of him. 

Imogen, heart doing strange things at the word darling, only came back to herself when she noticed Laudna’s smile begin to dip. She reached out and ran tentative fingers over the back of Laudna’s hand where it lay between them. Laudna turned her palm up and caught Imogen’s fingers between her own, the brief staccato interlude in her thoughts smoothing back into a more familiar rhythm as Imogen tried for the gentlest look she could manage. It wasn’t real familiar to her, gentleness, but Laudna made it feel easier than it ever had. 

Don’t be sorry. Please. I’ve never had…Thank you, for defendin’ me. And you’re right. He was a little bit of a jackass. 

She giggled then, feeling younger and safer than she had in a long time, and Laudna’s smile came out in full, face breaking open eerie and beautiful in the night.) 

Lady disappeared almost ten years later, gone one day, then two, then a week. 

“Likely went off to die,” speculated one of the older hands, bottom lip bulging with dip that he spit into the jar in his left hand every other sentence. “Dignified, that one.”

“Or somethin’ got her. Not as fast as she used to be.” 

Imogen mucked a stall quietly as they went on, moving from Lady to the weather to crop predictions. She was sweating, so the tears blended into the water already dripping down her face, and nobody was paying her any mind anyway. 

Nobody except her daddy, apparently. He walked by a few minutes later, shadow draping over her from where he stood in the stall door. 

“That’s just how it is, Imogen.” 

I didn’t say anything, she hissed into his mind, teenage angst and righteous anger forcing more tears from her eyes. The sound of his boots tripping over each other as he backed away pulled a bitter smile from her. She never spoke into his mind. He hated it. Careful, she said, almost taunting, and she felt the anger swell in him even as he moved further away. 

She ate dinner alone that night.  

-

By the time Flora came around, Imogen was miserable. She was fighting headaches every day, and she’d alienated nearly everyone in town over the course of the last few years. 

When her powers first came, Imogen didn’t understand what was happening. Confused and generally in pain, she couldn’t always process the difference between what she heard and what she heard, which meant she sometimes responded to things that hadn’t actually been said out loud. People weren’t fond of having somebody in their mind, even if nobody was quite ready to admit that was what was happening. 

Then came the panic attacks. 

And the scars. 

And the “accidents” that happened around her. 

She’d never been popular, looked too much like her mama in a town full of people who loved her daddy, but the rumors gave them a better excuse to avoid her, and of course, to judge. 

And, to be fair, Imogen wasn’t real eager to spend her time with them either. She hated the headaches and the anxiety and she definitely hated being able to hear the thoughts vile enough to stand out in the general din, vile enough that the men who thought them suddenly found themselves tripping over nothing or falling into ponds or spilling their drinks all over themselves. She didn’t do it on purpose but she wasn’t sorry. A few of those incidents and suddenly everybody was turning to look for lavender anytime anybody had an accident. 

When Ms. Gillis dropped a basket of produce one morning at market and turned to glare at Imogen, setting all six of her kids to whispering about “the purple witch,” Imogen decided to give up the small hope she’d been clinging to that the town where she grew up might learn to accept her as she was now. 

She stopped going out when she could avoid it, and when she couldn’t, she picked times when she thought the market or the general store or wherever it was she needed to go would be least crowded, got in and out as quick as she could. At least on the farm she was mostly alone, even if it hurt that her daddy joined everybody else for lunch and left Imogen alone in the orchard or under the big tree out behind the barn. 

She was under that tree when she first saw Flora, placid as Sam and a hand she didn’t recognize walked her. She was beautiful, a sorrel with a wide white stripe down her face. Imogen absently took a last bite of apple before tossing it back into the brown bag she’d brought and standing to walk toward Sam. 

“Imogen. There you are.” He looked relieved to see her, a vaguely anxious set of feelings pressing into her mind, which meant he really did not want to be handling this horse or he really did not like the other hand. Or maybe both. “This is Dylan. They work for Mr. Langham and rode over with Flora here.” 

Imogen lifted a perfunctory hand at Dylan before moving closer to Flora. “Can I?” 

Sam nodded, stepping back with the rope, and Dylan joined him. 

“She’s real sweet,” Dylan said. “She’ll be perfect for kids.” 

Imogen stood a little closer, in Flora’s line of vision, and let her look for a minute before she pulled a piece of carrot from her pocket and laid it flat on her palm in offer. There was the familiar tickle of soft, curious muzzle against her palm as Flora sniffed. She took the treat happily, crunching and then nosing at Imogen like they were old friends. 

Imogen ran her hand down Flora’s neck and spoke softly to her until Sam cleared his throat. 

“Well. We’re gonna leave her to you.”

“We are?” 

She caught some thoughts from Sam that made her turn her face a little further away from the two of them to hide a smile. He definitely didn’t want to get away from Dylan, then. 

“Great. Thanks.” 

They were gone quickly, leaving Imogen and Flora to themselves. “Whadda ya say?” Imogen asked as Flora mouthed another piece of carrot from her palm eagerly. “Want me to show you around a bit?” She took the gentle pressure of Flora’s muzzle against her shoulder as a yes. 

Flora was sturdy and young, barely more than a filly, and Mr. Faramore wanted her for her temperament and as a tester for the riding camp he was considering, a week or two of fancy kids coming to learn about horses and then, ideally, convincing their parents to buy one from him. 

Imogen worked with her, taking over as her handler with no objection from anyone else, and they spent at least two afternoons a week together exploring the grounds. Imogen was “setting the trails” for the camp, which didn’t mean much beyond flagging trees and brush that needed to be cleared for easier passage. It was her favorite part of the week, and Flora was better company than any person she’d ever met. 

The camp never happened, but two of Mr. Faramore’s granddaughters fell in love with Flora, so she stayed, spending a few days a month saddled up for the girls. She was Imogen’s, the rest of the time–always her choice for checking the property and riding out to mend fences or for any task she could justify, really. 

She and Flora were checking some fencing, hot as hell in the afternoon sun, when Imogen heard her for the first time. Toward the forest, where an abandoned cabin sat just far enough over the property line that Mr. Faramore didn’t bother with it, Imogen caught somebody’s thoughts. 

She wasn’t digging, had at least learned how to control that part of her powers, but the surface level thoughts were more difficult to block out, especially when she had her shields down, like she usually did when she was out with Flora. She was glad, for once, that she’d been unprepared, because these thoughts weren’t like anything else she’d heard before. They were like music, flowing and self-contained and happy. 

She turned Flora toward the forest without much thought. 

The woman was weeding outside the cabin, tall and incredibly thin, long hair pinned up with some kind of chisel as she worked, talking to herself quietly. There was something not quite right about her, something unnatural that Imogen couldn’t quite pin down but felt immediately. 

It became obvious when she turned to look at them, big black eyes wide and mouth working itself into a smile that was genuine if nervous, and almost too wide to be human. Her skin was pale, too pale, and there was something black on her fingers where they gripped a bundle of weeds, roots dangling, tightly in front of her almost like a bouquet. What looked like some kind of dead creature hung from one of her belts and swayed gently with her movement. 

Imogen was grateful for Flora for a thousand reasons, but in that moment, she was especially grateful for her steady temperament and natural curiosity, because Imogen was almost certain the woman would’ve spooked every other horse in their barn. Imogen was also almost certain that the woman in front of her was dead. 

“Hello,” she said, clearly not totally dead and with a heavy accent Imogen didn’t recognize. “I’m Laudna.” 

An hour later, when Laudna hesitantly offered Flora a piece of carrot from her palm, she took it happily and Laudna laughed, a sound as musical as her thoughts, when Flora leaned into her hand looking for more. 

It wasn’t long after that Imogen let loose defending Laudna and burned away the robes of that cleric and any chance of a life for herself in Gelvaan. 

She wasn’t sorry and she wasn’t sad, not really, to leave that place. As Imogen hastily filled a pack, Laudna looking on in concern, there was a dull and familiar ache in her chest, thudding below the fire and anger she still carried on Laudna’s behalf. Every what if she’d let herself indulge in over the years, every time she’d tried to please her daddy and failed, every attempt at getting people to see her as anything other than her mother’s daughter. But that’s all they were–what ifs that Imogen was steady realizing she didn’t want anymore. 

The real hurt, as they hurried through the forest and then onto the road that led away from Faramore’s, was that light in the barn, where Marty was on shift closing things down and keeping watch. She was leaving Flora, unable to say goodbye, and she didn’t know when she’d be back. If she’d ever be back. 

She cried the next night as they settled onto bedrolls, exhausted and overwhelmed and thinking of a horse of all things. She heard her father’s sigh, saw his disappointed and slightly patronizing expression and hid her tears in her sleeve and then in the fabric of her bedroll, trying to keep quiet. 

After a few minutes, Laudna said, gently, “I know it must be very difficult. To leave. I’m sorry, Imogen. I’m so very grateful that you saved me but I can’t imagine what it cost you.” 

Imogen turned to face her, embarrassed but willing, for reasons she still didn’t quite understand, to Laudna see her. “I’d do it again, Laudna.” The anger roiled in her stomach again, overtaking her sadness for a moment. “They deserved worse than what I gave ‘em, for what they were tryin’ to do to you.” She heard doubt in Laudna’s mind, and Imogen didn’t know yet how to fix that but she had time now to figure it out. 

“Honestly, I feel more relief than anythin’ else.” Laudna watched her, pools of black reflecting the soft light of the moon. “I won’t miss it. I’m…I’m excited to explore. I’m excited to explore with you. I’m real glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very, very long time.” Ever rang in her mind, loud and earnest enough for Imogen to hear. The fierce, protective thing that had started building in Imogen’s chest that first afternoon was growing faster than she knew what to do with. 

“I feel the same way.” 

And then Imogen thought of Flora again and found the tears were back. A noise, something affectionate and concerned that was entirely foreign to Imogen, escaped Laudna’s mouth before she sat up and dug in her pack, turning back with a handkerchief which she handed to Imogen. It was soft, embroidered with something she couldn’t quite make out in the dark, and it felt about a million times better than her shirt or her bedroll against her cheeks. 

“Thanks.” 

“Of course. I…I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I think I’m quite a good listener, if you do.” 

Imogen folded the handkerchief to keep her hands busy as she said, so soft she was afraid Laudna wouldn’t even hear her, “I miss my horse. Flora. I know that’s…I know it’s silly. I just…” 

She shrugged, chest tight, and Laudna moved closer to her, placed a hand on Imogen’s shoulder, cool even through the fabric of her shirt. 

“It’s not silly. It’s not silly at all.” 

It set something loose in her, the honest way Laudna said it, the echo of that honesty in her mind, and suddenly big, ridiculous tears were dripping down her face and Laudna’s arms were wrapped around her, her neck cool against Imogen’s forehead. 

“I liked her better than most people.” 

“Well, that makes sense. Aside from you, the people in Gelvaan didn’t make the best impression, I must say.” Imogen laughed into Laudna’s shoulder as she continued, “No offense intended, of course. I know I’m not exactly a welcome sight.” “You are to me.” 

She was quiet then, surprise and affection and longstanding shame whirling around in her mind. After a moment, she asked, “Would you like to tell me about Flora?” 

“I think…I think I would.” 

-

Pate de Rolo was, objectively, horrifying. 

Laudna had done a very thorough job preserving his body, and the skull was immaculately clean, but there was no getting around the horror of the creation–the mismatched parts and the patchiness of his thin coat; the dry, flaky reality of his tail; the unnatural stiffness of his joints as Laudna puppeted him, talented hands bringing his movements eerily close to what they might have been in life. 

The first time Laudna brought him from her belt with an excited, “Oh, let me introduce you to Pate,” Imogen had worked as hard as she could to keep her smile, to fight the instinct toward disgust. She managed, because she knew a hurt thing when she saw one, and she didn’t want to hurt Laudna any further, but it was a near thing. 

“Oh, so lovely to meet you, Pate.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine.” It was lecherous. It was hilarious. It was one of the most disturbing things Imogen had ever seen. 

Laudna looked between them, seeming incredibly pleased, and Imogen, unbelievably, found herself wanting to keep the little monster going, if it meant making Laudna happy. She bolstered herself. 

“Pate, Laudna mentioned y’all have traveled all over. She was tellin’ me about the mountains. Do you have a favorite place?” 

“Well, I always do like the beaches. For the views, if ya know what I mean…”

Suffering through the ensuing monologue was nothing compared to the pride that bloomed in Imogen’s chest at Laudna’s beaming smile. 

Over the course of their first few months together, Imogen began to understand what it meant when Pate made an appearance. 

Sometimes, of course, Laudna was bored and they were around the fire and Pate provided a ridiculous and entertaining way to spend an hour before bed. Imogen found it easy to move past disgust as she got to know Laudna, let herself see beyond the grotesque corpse and recognize something that had helped her friend, who had quickly become her favorite person in the world, survive desperate loneliness and nearly unending cruelty. She found it easy, when she thought of him that way, to love him as an extension of Laudna. 

And it became clear that he was an extension of Laudna, in more ways than one, as they traveled. The first time they were chased out of a cabin, she saw Laudna’s body shift into something Imogen found both terrifying and beautiful to defend them, limbs expanding and spine cracking as ichor pooled on her skin, a veil of black descending from nowhere to cover her face. That night, as they sat around the fire, Pate came out almost immediately. 

“Well that was a right mess, wunnit?” 

“It was.” Imogen moved closer on the log they shared, making the offer of contact but leaving Laudna the option to refuse. “We would’ve been in real trouble without Laudna, yeah?” 

Pate danced as Laudna’s fingers moved, somehow managing to convey a shrug in the rat-raven creation. “I dunno. I reckon anything would be scared of her, like that. Boss is awful enough when she’s not a monster.” 

“I’m not scared of her.” Laudna lifted her eyes from Pate to meet Imogen’s as she said, “And she’s not awful. She’s my best friend.” Black ichor dripped down Laudna’s cheeks as her fragile ankle shifted just enough to touch Imogen’s. “I thought it was really fuckin’ cool.” Laudna snuffled and Imogen grinned, bending down to Pate and stage-whispering, “Did you see that one guy piss himself?” 

Pate cackled, and Laudna moved to close the rest of the distance between them. 

When Laudna died, the second time, Imogen took his small body and kept it close to her. She couldn’t puppet him, didn’t want to try, but she spoke to him, whispered to him as she set him in a small nest she made from her bandana each night. “Don’t worry, Pate. We’ll get her back. I promise.” 

And then he came back with her, ribcage cracking and squelching, off-color observations flying as free as he now could. It was suddenly more difficult to love him, Imogen forcing down disgust in a way she hadn’t in a long time. There was less incentive, now that he was an independent creature, but he was still Pate and he had still saved Laudna, even if he hadn’t been, well, him. 

He found her one night as Ashton and Laudna played a game of cards, Laudna cackling in delight as they accused each other, loudly, of cheating nearly every hand. It was so good, to hear her laughing again. 

“‘Ey, boss.” 

He landed on a branch near her head, wings folding back into his body with a series of motions and noises that made Imogen smile to suppress a gag. 

“Pate. I didn’t realize you were out.” 

“Mum sent me to check on ya.” 

Imogen looked back to Laudna, who was waving a hand dismissively at Ashton, nose turned up. Her eyes caught Imogen’s as she turned away from him with a scoff, and she winked before she threw herself back into their argument, brushing her hair out of her face with an exaggerated motion. Imogen blushed and bit her lip before she remembered she wasn’t alone, clearing her throat and shaking her head before the world’s lewdest undead flying rodent noticed her being a lovesick fool. 

“She did, did she?”

“Aye. She worries about you, ya know? It was a hard fight, today.” 

It was, objectively, but relative to the past few weeks it was nothing. She’d be fine after a good night’s rest. 

“I’m good.” At his uncharacteristic silence, she realized Laudna really must’ve been concerned, so she continued, “Real good, honestly. Just need some sleep. I hadn’t been sleepin’ well, but it’s easier, now that we’re back together. Now that we’re…”

Pate didn’t have lips but he still grinned, somehow, bone-white face more expressive than it had any right to be. 

“Now that you and mum’re smashin’, ya mean?” 

“Pate.” Her face was red hot, embarrassing on its own and somehow even more embarrassing because her girlfriend’s perverted rat-raven familiar had managed to make it happen. 

“I’m real ‘appy for ya.” At her pointed eyebrow, he raised a rat hand in the air, wobbling a little as he rebalanced. “Honest.” 

“Mmhmm.” Ashton was up from his seat, arms flailing with enough distress that FCG had begun to make his way over to the duo. Laudna looked like she was having the best day of her life. “An’ how’s she doin’? Really?” 

Pate grunted. “Been better, I reckon, but she’ll be alright, our girl. She’s tough.” 

Right. This was why she tried to be kind, to hold her distaste at bay, to maintain some kind of love for him. Laudna was their girl. And she’d been Pate’s girl for a lot longer than she’d been Imogen’s. 

Imogen stroked the slope of his skull and patted her shoulder, affection and disgust warring within her at the feel of undead claws on her skin. He settled and they watched together as Laudna and Ashton continued, Letters stationed close. 

“She’ll be alright.” Imogen said it for the both of them, an affirmation and a promise. 

Skull scraped skin as he moved to speak, and goosebumps broke out across Imogen’s shoulders, an instinct she couldn’t suppress. 

“‘Course she will. She’s got us, after all.” 

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Baking cookies with Jamie tartt please! I loved your HC about him following your instructions while baking

2023 Fall Blurbs

There was always something about fall that made you want to bake. Maybe it was the colder weather or the plethora of seasonal treats or your desire to take care of those around you, but most weekends in autumn found you in your kitchen with a festive movie or playlist playing softly in the background as you spend your day baking one of your many favorite treats.

This year, living with Jamie meant that your baking days came with a new partner, one who was always willing to follow whatever instructions you had or would just sit and spend time with you as you did the baking. Jamie didn’t mind if you were bossing him around or sitting in silence as you worked, he just wanted to spend time with you, occupy the same space as you.

Today, you were finally trying out the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies you’d been seeing all over, both for yourself and for Jamie because you already know he’ll love them, even if he has to sneak them into his meal plan. All cozied up in your sweats with a Halloween movie playing in the background, you got set up, waiting for Jamie to return from his morning run so he could help you.

As soon as you’ve gathered all the ingredients and turned your attention to the movie for a few seconds, you hear the front door open and close, followed by Jamie’s enthusiastic footsteps, still so full of energy even after a grueling workout.

“Are you starting without me,” you don’t even need to turn around to hear the pout in his voice, and you can’t help the way it makes you smile.

“Go shower, I was just getting set up,” you tell him, turning your head back to glance at him just in time to see a beautiful smile overtake his face. Planting a kiss on your cheek, he hurries off to shower, as if it was a trick for you to start baking on your own.

When he comes back, only a few minutes later, everything is exactly how he left it, with you enthralled with the movie and the recipe still pulled up on your phone.

“Ready?” Jamie asks from the kitchen doorway, and he would have scared you if you hadn’t heard him racing down the stairs.

The two of you set off, passing ingredients back and forth and you giving gentle instructions on what should be mixed and how, watching over his shoulder as Jamie follows your every word. The process is slower than when you’re baking by yourself, but you love spending time with Jamie and you love seeing how excited he gets over such little things, like baking cookies with you.

When you take the first batch out of the oven, you have to remind Jamie that they need to cook off because you know how excited he gets and while he’d claim he was fine, you know he’d burn his fingers and the inside of his mouth if he tried to eat one now. Instead, the two of you wait patiently until the cookies are cool enough to eat but are still warm and gooey, and you both hum in contentment after the first bite.

You know the cookies will be gone well before next weekend, and you’re already planning what to bake next.

[zelphin124]

SeasonTale - Chapter 4

Let’s note that Autumn changes his name later in his story, but he is called Fall for his past. This change will be significant, and he wishes to be called Autumn. Calling him Fall is practically an insult.

(Then again, he takes a lot of things as an insult-)

Masterpost

Onto the story!

~o0o~

Everything was always dying. 

Mainly the trees, which Fall found interesting. They would only grow warm-colored leaves only to have them fall and die. No matter how often he raked, more leaves would always be on the ground. 

It was good for the soil, apparently. 

Fall was surrounded by trees glimmering red, orange, and yellow. He loved those colors. It gave him a sense of belonging. 

Unless the red was a darker shade of blood. 

Fall rested the rake against the tree, wiping his brow. His gaze wandered to the town. He could smell Fall!Grillby cooking the morning pies. Despite the rumors of war, everyone seemed to be at peace. 

At least, as much peace as they could be in. 

The Fall Kingdom was not full of friendly people. Everyone fought to survive. Everyone had to be tough; kill or be killed. Those who were nice were often slaughtered first. There weren’t enough supplies for anyone anyway, and peace was not an option. 

The sun hid amongst the distant mountains as its rays shot through the colorful trees. The smell of pumpkin, cinnamon, and apples flooded the air. There was a tint of smoke from the factories in a faraway land; Fall was never told what that land was called. 

Not like he cared, anyway. 

“How’s the raking going?” 

Fall turned around to see his dad. Fall!Gaster glanced at the ground and frowned. He adjusted his oversized hood and mask on his colorful jacket. He had a cocky smile and scars to scare people away. 

Fall copied his frown, realizing it looked like he got nothing done. “I-I can explain–” 

“Those darn leaves, eh?” Fall!Gaster chuckled. “Looks like they got the better of you.” 

“What? No, I made all those piles over there!” Fall pointed at the three piles more giant than him next to a circle of trees. “That took me all morning!” 

“Yet, it’s not enough,” Fall!Gaster bent his torso to meet Fall’s eyes. “You’re not going to let a tree be better at its job than you, are you?” 

“No–” 

“Didn’t think so.” 

Fall sighed, grunting at the leaves already adding to his piles. “Can you help me?” He asked. “It would get done faster…” 

“Me? Help you? Kid, raking leaves is your job. I provide a roof over your head, and I make sure you don’t die. That’s my job.” 

“But–” 

“If you care about me, you’ll continue to rake until you’re done. A good son wouldn’t ask his father to help him.” 

Fall clenched his jacket, trying not to show regret. “Yes, Dad, I’m sorry.” 

“I’ll maybe accept your apology,” Fall!Gaster altered his wrists, staring at the sun. “Well… I’m going to need you for another assignment tonight. Hurry up, you’re gonna borrow something from an old friend of mine.” 

Fall knew his dad never meant ‘borrow’ when he told him to grab something. He often associated the task with stealing but Fall!Gaster always denied that. It was simply people repaying him what he deserved, as he put it. Fall didn’t question the orders; he wanted to please his dad and not be a disappointment. 

He picked up the rake and started working again. When his dad wasn’t looking, he used magic to burn the leaves, making them disappear quickly. I wonder which house I’ll go into tonight, he asked. Hopefully, it isn’t creaky like the last one. 

“Do you understand the map?” 

Fall flipped the map around a few times before he found the house. “Yeah. What am I grabbing again?” 

“Think, Fall, I told you this already.” 

“Uhm… A key?” 

“Yes, it’ll be a large gray key that glows blue with its gem. I need this for a future mission I must complete myself,” Fall!Gaster stretched his bones back and forth, making sure he was still flexible. 

“Mkay,” Fall got up from the chair, rolling up the map and putting it in his pocket. “Do I get to use the knives this time?” 

“Yes, actually,” his father replied. He pulled back the curtain where the weapons were stored. Fall immediately spotted the knives that were made for him. They glimmered in the darkness and begged to be used again. 

Fall!Gaster picked up the knives and handed them to Fall. “The blades are sharp. Feel free to use them on anyone who gets in their way.” 

“Wouldn’t that… hurt them?” Fall asked, putting the knives in their holders around his belt. 

“That’s the point,” he confirmed. “I’m showing mercy to them by sending you. Honestly, they don’t deserve to live anymore.” 

Although he was used to his father saying such vile things, he never knew the reason why he hated the ones he stole from. “What did they do?” Fall asked. Maybe his dad was right in hating those who wronged him. 

“You’re too young to understand,” he shrugged. “Now go, I need that key as soon as possible.” 

Fall wandered in the dark alleyways of the Fall Kingdom. Most monsters would think the eerie environment would freak them out, but it brought Fall peace, as he was used to it. Anything calmer than the hostile vibes would scare him. 

He rolled across the street and snuck to the edge of the town, making sure the knives didn’t fall out of his pockets. The map wasn’t super clear on which house he was supposed to break into. Big cabin with a red roof… It was the only description of the house he had. Surely, it wouldn’t be super hard to spot—

Bingo. The large mansion with the red roof was a few hundred feet away from him. There was only one light on: the lamp out front. Smoke exited the chimney peacefully. The walls were made of round logs and cut-in windows. It truly was a beautiful house. 

Fall spotted one of the windows on the side was cracked open. Everything he was taught started to come into play. He didn’t have time to study language or math; his school was one of stealth, defense, and stealing. Fall!Gaster made it clear it would be dire to have these skills, and it was the right thing to do. 

Thankfully, the window wasn’t creaky. Fall rolled into the house with ease and started searching the drawers. 

However, the peaceful aura of the house filled Fall with fear. He felt no sense of danger or any threat nearby. The house was so quiet that one could hear a water droplet fall to the floor. The darkness wasn’t scary at all. The house was filled with an apple smell, and many family photos were across the walls. 

Fall tried to ignore everything around him as he moved swiftly through the house, opening drawer by drawer. He found nothing within the living area and the kitchen. However, when he entered the first bedroom, it stopped him dead in his tracks. 

A large picture hung on the farthest wall of a goat family. There was a mother, a father, and a young kid. They weren’t from the Fall Kingdom. In fact, they didn't seem to fit into any kingdom when Fall thought of all the seasons. They were bright like the stars and looked very powerful. 

But their smiles seemed so genuine in the photo. They seemed so happy; an emotion Fall had never felt. Fall figured they weren’t so happy now, with how the world spiraled downward. He thought he heard about a goat kid being slaughtered and the former King and Queen grieving their loss. Maybe this was the prince, Fall tilted his head. The prince who had died. Whose death had caused chaos in the world. 

The lights turned on. 

Fall spun around, grabbing his knives and facing the monster before him. His breath quickened, and his hands started to shake. No, they found me! No, no, no, no–

“Told you,” one of the goats said, smiling softly. 

Fall lowered his daggers. One of the goats he knew, Fall!Asgore. His red leafy cape hung from his sides as he adjusted his shirt. His horns were long and curly. He bowed his head respectfully before looking at the goat beside him. 

The second goat was the one Fall saw in the picture. His outfit was white and shined like the stars. He was tall and proud, and his body language showed his power. However, Fall found no fury in his eyes. He could only see kindness and patience, which the little Sans didn’t understand. 

“Thank you, Fall!Asgore. I promise you made the right choice,” the taller goat had a deep and soothing voice. 

Fall!Asgore cleared his throat. “How am I gonna deal with Fall!Gaster if he finds out? Surely, he will know I betrayed him. He will wonder where his son is.” 

“Let me deal with him,” the bigger goat responded. 

Fall!Asgore bowed low and exited the room. 

He started to curse in his head. My dad’s going to kill me… I failed the mission. Please don’t hurt me… Fall backed up as his soul pounded in fear. He held the knife in fear as a whimper escaped his throat. “G-Go away–” 

The white goat slowly sat on the ground, not breaking eye contact with Fall. His hands were open and gentle, gesturing for him to relax. “Fall!Sans, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” 

Fall held the dagger higher, shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I mean you no harm,” he tried to reassure. “My name is Solstice, Solstice!Asgore.” 

“How the hell do you know my name?” 

“You’re pretty well-known as Fall!Gaster’s pet, child. You’ve been doing his evil deeds for all five years of your life.” 

When Solstice didn’t move from his spot and continued to talk to Fall slowly, he lowered his knife and took a step closer. He looked at him, then back at the photo. It’s the same person… 

“I want to help you, Fall,” Solstice continued. “I want to help all of you. I plan to free you and the other Sanses from their bondage. But I won’t force you.” 

“There are others like me?” Fall sat down in front of Solstice, looking up at him curiously. “Like, my same species?” 

“Yes, there are monsters like you. They correlate with the other seasons. Winter, Summer, Spring, you were supposed to meet each other, but others have ulterior motives…” The goat sighed, patting his fingers on his knees repeatedly. “Thanks to your friend, I’m able to be here with you today to rescue you.” 

A loud explosion sounded outside. Fall turned his head abruptly, worried. That means I need to hurry up… 

Solstice noticed it, too. “I don’t have much time,” his voice became a whisper and rushed. “This might be my only chance to rescue you from your father.” He extended his hand, concern in his eyes as he glanced toward the window once more. 

“Are you dumb? I need to prove to my dad I'm a good son!” Fall frowned, standing up. "I... need him to be proud of me."

“He’s manipulating you. There will be nothing that you can do to earn his approval. He will use you for evil, but I’m here to end that,” Solstice stood up, his hand still extended toward the kid. “I don’t want you to endure the pain you’ll face. I promise you will feel at peace and free when you come with me. I don’t have much to go by, but not enough time…” 

Fall watched as desperation filled the old goat’s eyes. He glanced behind Solstice, where Fall!Asgore was standing. 

“Trust him, kid. I do. Your father isn’t up to anything good. He will help you,” Fall!Asgore said. 

Fall heard the final explosion outside. He could return to his father and continue to try to earn his approval by obeying everything he said, only to be met with more tasks and disappointment. Deep down, he felt like his actions were wrong, and these kind strangers confirmed that. 

The goats didn’t attack him when he came in; unlike previous times, he’s broken into other places. They were kind and patient and showed no disappointment toward him. They looked like they wanted to help, and Fall believed them. 

“Okay,” Fall took Solstice’s hand. “Does this mean I don’t have to rake leaves anymore?” 

Solstice smiled, guiding Fall out of the bedroom and toward the back door. “No, you won’t have to rake leaves anymore.” He sighed in relief, yelling something to Fall!Asgore. “Thank you again, my faithful steed. Protect your house and your family!” 

Fall!Asgore nodded, smiling softly. “Thank you for rescuing him.” 

Solstice guided Fall out the door; his touch was gentle and reassuring. “Let’s get out of here toward your new life.”

[amalgamgooze]

a muddled dreamer rambles

Would you sacrifice your lifelong dream if it meant you had a chance to save the life of someone you didn't even know?

...

I wake up in the mornings and roll out of bed to confront the monster in the mirror.

This monster is somehow good at so much shit.

This monster feels remorse for those around them who don't put in the effort to get good at anything.

This monster feels shitty for knowing that they're good at stuff.

This monster sometimes wants to incapacitate themselves to feel less bad.

What am I looking at in the mirror?

A monster.

...

Is it selfish to cling on to a realistic dream that's helped me through my lowest moments?

...

The monster in the mirror is radical.

Awesome.

Tubular, even.

That's what the monster in the mirror's been told.

The monster in the mirror's also weird.

Nerdy.

Awkward.

The monster in the mirror decides these two things can, in fact, coexist.

...

Quantum mechanics introduces many new topics, one of which is superposition.

Actually, superposition has existed before quantum mechanics.

But it's cooler in quantum mechanics.

Simply put, light can exhibit both wave-light and particle-like properties based on when it's observed.

...

Perhaps it is by whom this monster is observed that changes what this monster is.

...

Another quantum mechanics topic. Schrodinger's Cat.

Both dead and alive.

We don't know until we open the box.

...

The monster in the mirror then decrees that it, too, is both dead and alive.

...

The Laughing Dog has a real name. Their name is Stazimon [sic]. Stazimon wants to sing. But they're good at laughing. So laughing is what they shall do.

...

The monster in the mirror looks down at their wrists.

Or whatever the monster's equivalent of wrists are.

...

Of all the programs I've used, Cut, Copy, and Paste have been the most consistently mapped commands.

Not even redo is as consistent.

Today I started using a new art program and couldn't find the redo shortcut. In y head, it's mentally mapped to Ctrl+Y. Not Ctrl+Shift+Z.

...

Time heals all wounds.

Only the most perceptive of eyes will notice the scars from old injuries.

...

The monster in the mirror stops looking at their reflection.

They used to feel shameful looking at themselves,

shameful looking at their hideous facade,

shameful looking into the soul that'd done easily-forgivable-and-forgettable actions.

This monster holds grudges against itself for much longer than necessary.

...

I brush my teeth and feel thankful that I am not that monster in the mirror.

The monster in the mirror scares me.

Here outside the mirror, however, is reality.

And so that is where I will ground my beliefs and such.

...

Does the monster in the mirror have dreams?

...

What a horrible predicament! It's like that trolley problem, except there's one guy tied down on the tracks, and you can pull a lever and crush your own dreams!

Whatever shall we do?

...

It *is* selfish to put one's own desires first, especially before another person's life, yes.

But when you start to extrapolate the problem to "lifelong dreams that've kept you going through your toughest days" and "the possibility of maybe contributing to the saving of a single person", the logic gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

...

The monster in the mirror cries out to the Unresponsive God above, and damns him for not saving them.

The monster in the mirror once loved God, before they became a monster anyway.

But when God did nothing to keep them from becoming a monster, they grew hateful and confused.

It was then when the monster in the mirror forsake their god and became self-dependent.

And things started to get better after that.

Slowly but surely.

...

That pumpkin is still in my room.

The pumpkin I never fixed.

...

"But I am an artist," cried out the Laughing Dog. "All my friends see potential in me--they're rooting for me to sing my songs and-"

"That's enough out of you," said the Laughing Dog's mother. "Your laughter could save lives. Your singing, however..."

...

I'm pretty sure I summoned a bean today.

I was chanting about beans having been beans before being beans that'd been been-beans. Or something like that.

Next thing I know, we find a bean from a game last played long ago stuck under a chair.

Or maybe I was merely a vessel--no, a conduit for the power of this plastic fake bean.

...

"It took me so long to finally realize what I thought I'd wanted to do."

"But now you're telling me that what I've built my sense of purpose on,"

"what I've worked hard to achieve over the past decade-plus,"

"is all a selfish pursuit?"

"That I should be out saving lives instead of dreaming?"

"..."

"Why didn't you stop me earlier?"

"Was it because only now do I have the potential to save lives,"

"potential that I got from dreaming?"

"..."

"Okay."

"I suppose I'll give up on my dream just like that, then."

"Will you help me fill this gaping hole left behind?"

"No?"

"Okay."

"I'll fill it again with some new, irrational dream this time."

"That way I won't feel as conflicted when it comes time"

"to get rid of this one too."

[reinedeslys-central]

so what if your love is memory because people around you keep forgetting things and you never want to hurt people the same way. people accuse you of clinging but that's not it, they don't get it

you wave to your ghosts in the morning and blow them kisses in the mirror and you see them, you vow to see them. because they are important, they matter, even when you no longer remember them

(maybe it scares you)

they will still have existed. it's not clinging, it's looking your past in the eye every day and living with it.

you might have been my best friend when we were younger and I know we're not now, but I'm going to remember your dog's name and the taste of your mother's pumpkin soup for as long as I can. you made me a pretty purple bracelet with plastic beads and after we renovated I haven't found it since but I think about it sometimes. I respect you. It's okay if you forget I'm working on forgiving myself for forgetting things too. We don't have to be the same as the way things were, I hope you don't think I think that. but let me smile at you in the street and remember you holding my hand while we played in the sand and yelling at me for yelling at you when you turned the volume in the car up loud enough to make my ears ring. let me say I've never known peace like when you let me lean my head on your collarbone and everything went silent, and maybe I had a crush on you once but that doesn't mean this is meant in anything but a platonic way, i love you. i love you with all that i am, and now i kind of hate you too. so let me blow kisses to the ghosts in the corners of my eyes and when everyone forgets, I'll try my hardest to remember something. you forgot my birthday for the first time since you met me and i felt nothing. i realised none of my friends really care about me all that much and it's okay. i'm just going to be the shadow of that hand at dusk that settled next to yours on the park bench, a shade of an impression of a memory you'll remember as a dream. i'm just going to be a part of your past and you're just going to be a part of mine, and we're going to forget each other piece by piece.

please don't turn your head when you see me in the street. we might not know each other anymore but we don't have to. yield me that respect of treating me like an unknown if not a unraveled thread, don't you dare pretend we didn't matter to each other in whatever capacity we did.

[dragonbinx]

Existential Halloween

From my Halloween series last fall and the first part of my Jed Explains the Holiday series.  Posted on Ao3 here.

Series: Legacies

Ship: BenJed

Characters: Jed Tien, Ben

“What is this?”

Jed startled, thoughts of Odysseus disappearing from his head. Midterms were coming up and for the first time, he was focused on studying. His head hurt a little and he was pretty sure he was using way too much highlighter because half the book was orange, but he was interested in his subjects and he was pretty sure he could do this. If his boyfriend didn’t distract him too much.

He looked at the thing covering his books, then up at Ben. “Um, that’s a witch hat. Why do you have a witch hat?”

“Because that’s what the woman at the store in town called it, but witches don’t wear hats. And even if they did, I thought humans didn’t know they existed so why are they trying to sell them accessories?”

Jed smirked. “Okay, I’m guessing the Wikipedia in your head doesn’t include Halloween?” Ben’s head tilted his head in confusion. “Which one’s tripping you up, Wikipedia or Halloween? Actually, you know what, never mind, I’ll just try again. Your power that lets you know things doesn’t cover holidays?”

“Oh. No, it doesn’t. It’s mostly for languages and how to perform tasks, that sort of thing. So there’s a holiday for witches and it involves this hat?” He picked up the pointed hat and turned it over dubiously. “Why does is it pointed?”

“Halloween is a mix of Celtic pagan traditions and a Christian holiday from several centuries ago, to honor the dead I think. And then history happened, traditions kept changing, and now it’s a holiday where people celebrate the funny or scary parts of what they all think are totally fake supernatural stuff. Including weird, over exaggerated takes on witches. The traditional ‘witch’ rides on a broomstick, has a pointy nose, and wears that.” He tapped the point on the hat for emphasis.

“That’s … ridiculous. Why would people think that?”

“Don’t ask me. I grew up in a pack, I only know this stuff because I went to a human school on and off before I turned. Which is probably one of the reasons I’m not good at studying. Which is why I should get back to it.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you.” Ben dropped a kiss on the top of Jed’s head. “Thank you for explaining and I’ll be in the RV if you need my help.”

Jed chuckled under his breath as he watched his boyfriend walk back to the RV, turning the hat over and over in his hands. Then he turned back to his studying, thinking that was the end of it.

It was not.

*

“Why are there cats?”

Jed blinked at Ben sleepily. He’d spent the night studying and was running a little late this morning, so he was still nursing a coffee at almost eleven. Ben had already gone into town to pick up some packages they’d had sent to the local post office and apparently had questions. “What, like why did we choose to domesticate cats and not something cool like rhinos or something? No idea. But I like kinda like cats, there’s a lot of videos of them on the internet.” He was really loving having access to WiFi. It wasn’t better than magic, but it was pretty awesome.

“No, I meant for Halloween. There are so many black cats on things. And pumpkins, why are there pumpkins?”

“Oh. Um, black cats are supposed to be unlucky and they have something to do with witches, their familiars - like an animal sidekick, I guess? And pumpkins because fall and jack-o-lanterns. Crap, jack-o-lanterns - so you carve a face into a pumpkin and put a candle inside and it’s supposed to scare away ghosts and stuff. I think. Irish myth or something. That one might be true though. It sounds like a thing that might exist, some ghost carrying around a lantern. I’ll ask Professor Vardemus the next time we talk.” He shook his head and tried to get back on track. “Was that all you wanted to know?”

“I think so. Thank you.” Ben looked more lost than before he’d asked, but he left Jed to his coffee.

*

Jed was vibrating, waiting for Ben to come home. He’d been updating his student portal waiting for grades to be posted repeatedly all afternoon and they’d finally been posted half an hour ago, and he’d texted Ben immediately. He’d paced their camp a dozen times, lifted some weights, then texted Finch and Cleo the good news, and now he was sitting by the fire pit, knee jiggling, waiting for Ben to show up.

When he did arrive, it wasn’t with the hoped for attitude. He strode into camp, tossed some bags down on the table, and said, “I do not understand Halloween. What could candy possibly have to do with a holiday about honoring those you’ve lost, incorrect myths, and cats? Why are there signs everywhere telling me I should get the candy early? Are they going to run out? And why -“

He was cut off by Jed’s hand over his mouth. “Look, I usually don’t mind your endless Halloween questions. I actually think it’s kinda cute how much this is bothering you -“

“Thank you,” Ben said, muffled by Jed’s palm.

“- but I have news. So we can talk about trick-or-treating later, but right now, don’t you want to hear about my grades?”

Ben pulled Jed’s hand off of his mouth. “They posted them?”

“An A, two A minuses, one B plus and one B minus. Best grades I’ve gotten since the wolf who did my homework freshman year graduated. I kinda killed it.”

“That’s amazing, Jed!” Ben wrapped him up in a hug. “We should celebrate. Whatever you want to do.”

Jed pulled away and looked in the bags on the table. “Did you get anything that’ll go bad? Dairy, meat, anything like that?”

Ben’s brow furrowed. “No. Why?

Jed dragged Ben in by the front of his shirt and kissed him, all open mouth and sliding tongue and dirty intentions. Ben, always quick to jump on board when Jed wanted him, gave as good as he got, digging his fingers into Jed’s hair to pull him closer, the other hand slipping under his shirt to splay over his side possessively.

“Time to go in and celebrate,” Jed said hoarsely when they came up for breath, twining his fingers through Ben’s and tugging him towards the RV, laughing as Ben crowded him, banding his arms around his stomach and burying his face in Jed’s neck. It made getting inside more difficult, but Jed wasn’t complaining.

*

“Why do they laugh at monsters? Monsters aren’t a joke.”

Jed turned to Ben. They were sitting by the fire, a beer in each of their hands. He’d noticed that something was off with his boyfriend, but he’d wanted to give Ben some time and see if he’d bring it up. Apparently he was now. “Is this another Halloween thing?” Ben nodded, still looking at the fire. “It’s because they don’t believe in them. They can’t take them seriously, because they don’t think they’re real.”

Ben sighed. “I understand. It still makes me uncomfortable.”

“I get that.” Jed scooted his chair closer and pulled Ben close. Ben gratefully put his head on Jed’s shoulder, and Jed took his hands and rubbed circles on the back of it. “How about we spend Halloween by ourselves this year?”

“I thought you were excited to do human holiday traditions now that you aren’t at the school anymore?”

“And we will have a very intense Christmas, I can promise you that. But we can skip this one. Besides, it’s not like it’s our last chance or anything. We’re going to spend a lot of Halloweens together. There’s no rush.”

Ben lit up like he always did when Jed mentioned their future together. “I suppose you’re right. We can have a pumpkin, if you want,” he offered.

“Maybe.” He pressed his mouth into Ben’s hair and smiled, feeling very fond of his demigod.

“Jed?”

“Yeah?”

“I still hate the witch hat."

[awanderingdeal]

O'Knutzy Week - Day 5

Prompt: Harvard || NOLA

Rating: M (for general themes - no sexual content)

CW: Homophobic slurs, past emotionally abusive relationship.

Credits: O'Knutzy belong to @lumosinlove and thank you to @oknutzyweek for organising all this.

“Uncle Leo!”

“Hey pumpkin,” Leo said, bending down so Nova could clamber into his arms. Her father, Mikey, was Leo’s childhood best friend, having lived two doors down until he’d moved out his parent’s house.  

She wriggled around, making herself comfortable as Leo rose back to full height. Her grin revealed that she’d lost another tooth since Leo had last seen her. “Daddy said I’m too big to be up now.”

“Never!” Stop growing so fast, kid.

"I came to tell you Finn is going to take me to the science museum tomorrow ‘cus Daddy has to work -' Nova took a hulking breath. “- And I would have to stay with Mawmaw and I don’t want to because it’s boring, Leo.”

“Oh, Finn said that, did he?” So much for a lazy morning. Leo looked over Nova’s head, finding his boyfriend sitting around the large iron table in the 'finished' area of the yard with Mikey. Finn looked up, meeting his gaze and gave a sheepish smile. “Well, it wouldn’t do to have you bored, would it?”

Leo couldn’t be angry at Finn for wanting to make Nova happy. With the spring sun warming him to the bone and the chaos of his big family surrounding him, nothing could ruin his mood. He searched for Logan too; the last he'd seen of him he'd been charming Leo's grandparents, which was when he saw.

"Nova, pumpkin, go and tell your Dad that Finn is too soft, and you may as well stay here tonight. I'm sure I have a old shirt you can sleep in."

Nova pumped her fist in victory and scurried off to deliver the message. Leo waited just long enough to make sure she was on her way before he stormed towards the lone man.

“Heck, you scared me." His ex stumbled back from the vegetable patched he'd peering in, eyes widening as he took Leo in. "Leo," he said. "What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Leo scoffed. ”It’s my mom’s birthday. What are you doing here?”

Kyle took a step back. Leo had always tried to seem less intimidating than his 6 foot 3 frame naturally made him. He worked hard to earn the moniker of a gentle giant, but right now he was glad of the presence. 

“I…I was invited to come with…” Kyle stumbled over his words. “I thought you’d be y’know…out of town.”

“Hmm, it’s almost like I prioritize the things that are important to me,” Leo huffed a laugh. Then it dawned on him. “Are you dating Rylee?” 

“Not Rylee." 

Leo thought he saw a grimace flicker on Kyle's face. If not Rylee, then who? He started to run through the list of guests, not getting very far before Kyle's stare gave him the answer. "Elliot?" 

Kyle gave the tiniest of nods. 

Leo pulled at his collar, sure that the t-shirt hadn't been this tight this morning, and Logan was right, it was too hot. 

"Leo, look, I'm sorry…" Kyle said. 

There was more. Leo could see Kyle's mouth, but all he heard was a low mumble, his own thoughts drowning out the words. 

It was worse that it was a boy. God, that was horrible, wasn't it? It's not like you didn't know he was attracted to them. Kyle had just been so repulsed by the idea of people knowing about them. He'd threatened to tell everybody Leo was obsessed with him. That Leo had got him drunk and then kissed him. Maybe it had Leo he'd been disgusted by. 

"You called me a fag," Leo spat. "You let me fall in love with you, had sex with me and then you called me a fucking fag."

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Kyle winced. It almost made Leo feel a tiny bit of sympathy for him. “I was just a kid, I was scared.”

There went that sympathy. “You were a coward.” Leo cocked his head, assessing Kyle. His sandy blonde hair was cut short now, rather than the longer slicked back look he used to sport. He was softer now. Even now, Leo hoped that meant he’d gotten a handle on what, in hindsight, had been an unhealthy relationship with food and exercise. Perhaps he had changed, perhaps he was better to Elliot. “Does he even know? Elliot? Do you even sign?” 

Kyle blinked at him “Yeah. I’m pretty good now. Not perfect at all. I’ve been learning for a little over two years.” He scratched the back of his neck, chewing on his lip. “No..No, he doesn’t know. I didn’t want to -”

Leo snorted a laugh. “You’re still a coward.” He jumped at the weight of a hand on his shoulder, relaxing as he recognised the familiar knead of Logan’s fingers. 

“Le? Ça va?” 

Leo tried to smile as he looked at Logan. “This is Kyle,” he said.

“More cousins?” Logan laughed. “ I thought -” The pieces of understanding snapping together like a jigsaw was almost visibible. “What is he doing here?” He said it with such ferocity, Leo knew the only reason Logan hadn't punched Kyle was because he respected Leo's ability to fight for himself.

"He was invited," Leo sneered. He was being an asshole. He didn't care. "Dating Elliot now."

"Oh." Logan said.

"It's alright though, because Kyle here is going to go tell Elliot everything and then he's going to leave."

"No, Leo, come on," Kyle argued. "E's been looking forward to this."

E. God, Leo really didn't need to hear their nicknames for one another. He sought out Logan's hand and squeezed it. "I said you were going to leave. Elliot can do whatever he wants."

Kyle opened his mouth, as if to speak, and then closed it again. His pinched the bridge of his nose, grinning his back teeth. "Fine. I'll go."

"Tell him Kyle, or I will," Leo said. "If you want to run away from your past then don't date my family." What Elliot did with the information was his business, but he deserved to know.

"Hey, loves of my life. What's happening," Finn sang as he barrelled over. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were a little pink. "So, next time we're down here Mikey is going to -" His gaze moved rapidly between Leo and Logan. "Pea?"

"You can tell him," Leo muttered, letting himself be pulled into Finn arms. Logan, still holding firmly onto his hand, followed until Leo found himself enveloped between the two.

It felt like both two seconds and two hours later when Finn was stepping back. He cupped Leo's face. "Are you okay?" He whispered.

Leo nodded once, then again, because he realised he was. "Am I horrible if I don't forgive him?"

"Non."

"Absolutely not," Finn added.

"He was young though. Maybe he's changed?"

"And if he has changed then he'll carry on being changed whether you forgive him or not. You don't owe him anything."

Finn quirked a smile and Leo found himself matching it. He'd once given Finn same advice, almost verbatim about his own ex.

"Somebody wise must have told you that," Leo said.

"Very wise indeed," Finn laughed, pressing his lips to Leo's gently.

Logan hummed. "More people are coming. Do you want to go upstairs? Until you feel better."

"No," Leo shook his head. He was okay. He'd been okay for a long time. No matter what Kyle had told him or what that college recruitment office had said, he could have it all. He had it all. A family that loved him. Not one, but two boyfriends who were more than proud to be seen with him. A team that had his back. He wished he could go back and tell his 16 year old self it'd be alright.

"Leo, honey, here you are." His mom sounded frazzled. He'd tried to take over managing the food, but nothing stood between Eloise Knut and the potluck table. "Sorry to pull you away but I need you to tend to the grill. Your father is burning the shrimp."

"On my way, Mama."

"Wait right there, young man."

Leo groaned. "Mom?"

His mom looked him dead in the eye, smiled and patted his cheek. "You can tell me all about it later, honey. We'll have a kitchen chat."

There was no point telling her she was fine. Besides, it had been forever since they'd sat in the kitchen, nursing cups of sweet tea, just talking.

"Okay, Mama."

Yeah, Leo was going to be okay.

[babymetaldoll]

Birthday wishes (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Nope

Summary: Spencer overthinks Reader’s birthday present ‘cos he doesn't know if they are dating or not

Warnings: No… maybe a few sexual references but nothing too explicit. 

Category: Pure sweet, delicious fluff 

Word count: 3,2K

Part II

Masterlist

.

What makes a relationship official? Are you just "going out" o "just seeing each other" after five dates? Five incredible, unique, perfect dates? or do you have to ask: "Would you be my girlfriend?"

Spencer rolled in bed and kept asking himself questions he couldn't answer. Were he and (Y/N) a couple? So far, he hadn't asked, ‘cos he was scared, which made no sense, ‘cos he had already asked her out and they had already kissed. Besides, they had already met for five years, which meant, well, it felt like they were already a little ahead on the "getting to know each other" part.

So, after five dates, were they already dating? Were they exclusive? Could he tell her he loved her? No, probably no. Who could he ask about it? No one in the team knew what was going on between them. They didn't want to tell them. It was too soon. Besides, Spencer didn't even know if they were an actual couple.

Reid kept rolling in bed. It was already three in the morning. He was overthinking everything, and he knew it. But it was (Y/N)'s birthday, and the present he had for her was hunting him. He couldn't shake the thought he had gone a little too far with it. He wanted to give her that present ever since he saw it, months ago. He bought it and kept it hidden in his closet. He had no idea why he was hiding it if no one was ever in his house. No one but (Y/N), but she never went through his things. If so, she would have found the picture of her he also had hidden in his drawer.

It was a picture of the two of them sitting together at the round table in the BAU conference room. They were eating a cupcake, and their lips were covered in frosting. They were laughing. They were happy. It was Penelope's birthday, and they had thrown her a surprise breakfast celebration. JJ had taken that picture, and secretly, Spencer asked her for a copy.

When they were just friends, he didn't overthink that present, he just got it for her. But now everything was different. And he was scared of every movement he did around her, terrified he could frighten her away.

- "Stop!"- he commanded himself and closed his eyes. He had to sleep at least an hour, or the rings under his eyes were going to scare (Y/N) away. Not like she hadn't seen him looking like he hadn't slept before.

.

Penelope had baked a gigantic Halloween themed birthday cake, ‘cos he knew (Y/N) was a sucker for horror movies. It had pumpkins, a Jason mask, and a knife stabbing the cake. It was perfect. JJ and Emily brought presents and more food. Everyone had helped to make sure her day was special. Derek decorated her desk with balloons and confetti, got her a funny birthday paper crown, and wrote "pretty girl" with his terrible handwriting. It was adorable. She was like a little sister to him, and he just wanted to make her smile.

And Reid, well, he… he was all over the place. Hanging more balloons all over the bullpen and making sure all the food was ready. He actually got there an hour and a half earlier than everybody, just to make sure everything was set.

No one got how he could think he was fooling them about his feelings for (Y/N). To be fair, he wasn't trying at this point. He was now too concerned not to scare her away by accidentally saying "I love you" or saying they were in a relationship, ‘cos he didn't know if they were. All those things Spencer could quickly fix asking, but he was too scared to ask.

.

- "Happy birthday!!!"- Penelope yelled as soon as (Y/N) set foot outside the elevator. She was greeted by her friend's tight hug, and along came the rest of the team.

- "Thank you so much!! Thank you!"- she was moved by all the love they gave her, they were her family far from home, and they meant the world to her.

- "Hey! happy birthday"- Spencer was the last one to hug her; he waited until everybody had walked back to the conference room. She smiled and bit her lips as he moved a step closer and wrapped his arms around her.

Those arms made her feel safe and loved, and it was an addictive sensation; she didn't want to quit. She was a self-declared addict to Spencer Reid, and the latest weeks had been the best of her life. But she still felt she was walking on eggshells around Reid. She loved him so much, and she was scared, 'cos she thought she might say it too soon. Was it too soon considering they had known each other for the last five years? she had been in love with him for the last four and a half years. But yes, it was too soon.

They hadn't even had sex yet.

Sex with Reid. That was a thought that had kept her awake many nights. It kept coming to her mind, especially when he held her the way he was doing now. She could feel herself melting to his touch, and the idea of feeling his skin against hers, the idea of being naked with him. The thought of having him inside of her was too much to process. If kissing him was breathtaking, having sex with him had to be heaven.

- "So, happy birthday"- he repeated and smiled at her, still holding her tight but now staring at her blushed cheeks.

- "Thank you"- she giggled nervously and looked down

- "I hope you are hungry, ‘cos we've got a whole breakfast party ready for you"- she nodded, but neither of them moved- "Garcia really went overboard with everything she brought…"

Why would Reid hide the fact he had gotten half the things on that table? Something inside him kept forcing him to hide his true feelings for (Y/N) 'cos he was still sure she would reject him. Again, they had been into five dates, held hands, kissed, looked at each other with puppy eyes for hours over dinner. Why did he feel he needed to hide his feelings?

- "And maybe we could go out tonight…"- he whispered as they walked to the conference room- "I would love to take you out for dinner on your birthday"- (Y/N) turned to him with the brightest smile and nodded.

- “Sounds like an excellent plan”

.

- "And where's your present, pretty boy?"- Derek asked Reid frowning after (Y/N) finished opening all the presents the team had gotten her.

- "I…"- he had an awful excuse- "I left it at home, I'm sorry."

No one was ever going to believe that. He knew it

- "I was…. well, I had a lot of things to bring, and I left it on my table, but I'll bring it over later, ok?"- (Y/N) just nodded and smiled, thinking they had a date later. But the rest of the team was confused. Reid would never forget something. Never, eidetic memory, he was doomed.

- "Are you ok?"- JJ walked to him as they cleaned the table after breakfast and looked at him, worried.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "You look nervous"- Spencer even stuttered to answer

- "I, I, I'm not nervous, JJ, I don't know what you are talking about"

- "Spence, come on… tell me, what is it? What happened with (Y/N)? why didn't you bring the present you had for her?"

Reid sighed. He knew he could trust JJ. He was just… ashamed of sharing his feelings with someone.

- "I didn't forget it"- he whispered- "I want to give it to her later."

- "Later? when?"- he stayed quiet for a few seconds and then took a deep breath

- "Wehaveadatetonight"- Spencer slurred and closed his eyes, ‘cos he didn't want to look at JJ's face

- "What? Sorry, I couldn't understand that"- he sighed, frustrated

- "I said, we are goingoutonadatetonight"- it took her a second to understand it, but when she did, JJ wide opened her eyes and looked at her friend in shock- "Don't say a word"

- "But oh my god!! Spencer!"

- "Shh!! please don't say a word!"

- "Spence! It's huge! It's your first date!! When did it happen? when did you finally ask her?"

… And Spencer actually thought no one knew about his feelings.

- "It's not… our first date"- he whispered and looked at his shoes. JJ stood next to him in shock and hit his arm as her mouth fell open.

- "JJ, please, I'm just telling you ‘cos I trust you I don't want anyone else to know?"- he begged

- "How many dates so far?"

- "Six, including tonight."

- "Oh my god! are you two together??"- JJ was making her best not to yell, but she was in shock. However, she realized it was a sensitive subject for Spencer. She wanted to make her best not to make him feel uncomfortable.

- "We've been going out for a few weeks now, but…"- Spencer made a pause and sighed- "How do you know when you are in a relationship with someone?"

- "Usually, you talk about it… you haven't?"- his silence was too long, enough sign for JJ to get he hadn't had that conversation.

- "Ok, you should ask her, Spence. If you've been out on several dates already, it means she likes you the same way you like her."

- "But I love her…"- Reid looked at her friend with puppy eyes. He was honestly anxious about the whole situation and couldn't say another word.

- "She is crazy for you; you have to believe me"

- "I know she likes me, but it's nerve-wracking to feel you love someone who just likes you"

- "Believe me, Spence, she doesn't just like you"- he just sighed and nodded, not because he believed her, but because he didn't want to persuade that conversation. However, JJ wasn't going to let it go so quickly.

- "So… what did you get her?"

- "It's nothing, just something I thought she might like"- he tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal.... like he wasn't freaking out. But he was dying inside.

- "What is it?"

- "A necklace…"- JJ nodded, surprised- "And a ring"- surprise was not enough to describe her face. Shock might have been closer. Yes, JJ was in shock.

- "Are you going to…"

- "No! no, no, I'm not, I mean, it's too soon to…. I just don't want her to feel pushed, I bought her the present months ago, and I never thought we were going to be … well, whatever it is that we are now… that's why I need to know where we are now… I don't want to blow it."

Spencer bit his inner lip and pouted. He was upset, he was having a hard time explaining his feelings and his mind, and most of all, a hard time sharing what he was feeling. JJ smiled at him and simply shook her head, with an honest, proud look in her eyes.

- "I know it sounds scary, but the only way to know is asking her"- he just nodded and let out a deep breath. That wasn't the answer he was waiting for.

.

(Y/N) looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She was glad no psycho killer had decided to start attacking innocent that night, ‘cos it meant she could actually go out on a date with Reid. Their sixth date. Usually, the sixth date meant sex for her. But she had no idea what it meant for Spencer, and she wasn't going to push him. She just couldn't shake the thought off her mind, but she had to. Thinking about sex with Reid was too much.

- "Wow"- that was all Spencer managed to say as soon as (Y/N) opened the door for him. He looked at her up and down. His eyes couldn't stop running through every inch of her skin. It was like the dress was hugging her body, wrapping her and following every curve of it. He couldn't believe someone so beautiful wanted to go out with him.

- "You look very handsome"- (Y/N) smiled and chuckled. Reid just shook his head and stared.

- "Come in, just let me get my purse and put on some shoes, and I'll be ready to go."

Spencer couldn't speak. He just nodded and watched her walking to her room. He couldn't even be subtle at that point. He couldn't and wouldn't stop staring. Not if she was going to look so hot.

The thought of having sex with his best friend was hunting his mind since they were on their third date. That was the very first time they made out on her couch. They hadn't even passed second base, but for Spencer, that had been enough to start fantasizing about how it would be, how it would felt, and… when it would be.

- "Buttercup?"- he asked and couldn't see (Y/N)'s wide smile as soon as she heard that word. She loved it when he called her cute names. It made her feel special and closer. She had always called him "honey" even before they started going out. After their second date, Spencer had finally seemed comfortable calling her that.

- "What is it, honey?"- she asked, walking out of her room, wearing her favorite shoes and carrying a tiny purse.

- "I just wanted to… give you your birthday present before we leave"- Spencer smiled at her, and she could tell he was nervous.

- "Sure… thank you, by the way."

- "I still haven't given you the present. Why are you thanking me for?"

- "‘Cos you organized the best breakfast celebration the BAU had ever seen"- she simply answered, and her smile stopped his heart for a second.

- "You deserve it"- he simply replied, standing right in front of her. He could only think about leaning in and kissing her, but he was so nervous, he just stared at her, feeling his hands sweating.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, it's just that… sorry, you look stunning, and I can't stop looking at you"- (Y/N) felt her cheeks burning red in a second. Spencer Reid had just told her she was beautiful. That wasn't something she was used to, but she would gladly live the rest of her days hearing him saying it.

Slowly, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Spencer's neck and moved closer, not taking her eyes from his.

- "Can I ask for a birthday kiss?"- the way she whispered those words did things to Reid. Things he didn't know how to handle just yet. All he managed to do was to smile and reach her lips. It started like a sweet, loving kiss, but soon it changed. It was getting harder and harder for the two of them to hide their true feelings.

That kiss was screaming: "I love you." It was hungry and also filled with the deepest desire. It wasn't plain lust. It was the eagerness to feel the one you love as close as possible, for as long as possible.

- "Are these "birthday kisses" a limited edition, or can I keep asking for them for as long as I want?"- she murmured, rubbing her lips against his.

- "All the kisses you want, as long as you want them"- Spencer whispered and deepened the kiss as a soft moan left (Y/N)'s lips. That was music for him, the music he wanted to listen to all day long, if possible.

They had saved way too many kisses during those years. They could kiss forever, just to catch up. But there were dinner reservations and a present in between. So the kisses had to wait a little bit.

- "I got you this"- Spencer whispered and moved his lips from hers, smiling at the soft whine that came from her as soon as he did.

- "I thought about you when I saw them a few months ago ‘cos I knew you would love them, and I've been saving them for today"- he opened his satchel and handed her a small box.

- "Thank you, honey"- (Y/N) was blushing, trying not to show she was so nervous. It wasn't just because of all the kisses. It was because now she knew he had thought about her months ago, and got her a present. That was melting her.

(Y/N) was speechless when she opened the box. She looked at him. He was blushed and excited at the same time.

- "Spencer… you shouldn't have"

- "You deserve to have these; do you like them?"

- "Of course I do, you were right, I love them… would you?"- (Y/N) handed Spencer the necklace, and he clasped it around her neck. She looked at the ring and smiled, sliding it in her finger.

- "I didn't want you to feel I'm pushing you to…"

- "No, honey, it's ok. I know you didn't mean anything like that"- she was blushing as well, but loving the gesture- "It's beautiful, Spencer."

- "No, you are beautiful"- (Y/N) giggled at his words and sighed

- "No, you are beautiful"- she repeated and hugged him again.

Spencer looked at her in adoration and ran his fingers sweet and carefully down her rosy cheeks. 

- "I... wanted to ask you something"

- "What is it?"- that was it. It was now or never for Spencer.

- "Do you… want… do you want to be…"- Spencer was trying to say it without stuttering- "Would you be my girlfriend?"- her smile made him sigh relieved, as she leaned in and kissed him softly.

- "Of course I would…"- he held her closer and pecked her lips once, twice, three, four times, before cupping her face with both hands, deepening the kiss.

- "Do you want to know something funny?"- she whispered when Spencer rested his forehead on hers and looked at her in adoration

- "What?"

- "That was my birthday wish."

- "What?"

- "I wished you'd ask me to be your girlfriend."

Reid smiled and sighed. He held her hand and kissed it, speechless, thinking he had been a fool for holding that question for so long.

- "Do you want to know what I wish for right now?"- she whispered and smiled- "I'm wishing we were having dinner 'cos I'm starving."

Spencer chuckled and shook his head.

- "Come on, Buttercup, let's get you the best birthday dinner"- he walked with her to the door but stopped when he felt her pulling his arm. 

- "And do you think we could come back here after dinner?"

- "Sure, what do you have in mind? Wanna watch a movie?"- but she shook her head.

- "I wanna kiss you until I can't move my lips anymore"- she confessed- "Now that you are my boyfriend, I think I can say those kinds of things, right?

Reid was in shock, his mouth hanging open, his red cheeks burning. And his girlfriend - he loved the idea of calling her that - smiling in front of him.

- "Would you like to do that, doctor?"

 - "What if we ask for take-outs and stay on that couch all night long?"- he simply answered, finally not overthinking every word.

- "I thought you would never ask."

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Halloween Oreos (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original Ask: How about some snack time with Micheal uwu sharing Halloween oreos with his s/o or someone me whose getting close to him. Perhaps they buy him some huehue

_____________

Haddonfield had become a rather quiet place following the Halloween murders, the following years becoming somewhat grim.

Halloween was no longer the same, or at least it was something that made the residents of Haddonfield tense up. Even after thirteen years, people were sometimes too afraid to speak the Boogeyman’s name. At least, people finally came out of their homes, as if the plague was already over with. After thirteen years, one could have said that the Boogeyman was no more.

October had finally come around, and this year Haddonfield was gifted with a veil of fresh white snow on just the third day of the month.

You grunted as you fixed the plastic bags in your hands, the mittens you wore making it somewhat difficult to properly hold them.Today was the day to go out for groceries, a task you only did every now and then due to your current living condition.

“Need help there?” you heard a voice behind you, prompting you to turn and see the cashier that had rung you up in the grocery store.

“Oh! Ah,” you gave a nervous chuckle as you once again fixed the plastic bags. “I-I can bear, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind lending a hand, especially in this weather.”

“It’s alright.” you insisted, especially after a chill ran down your back, your eyes glancing around as an uneasy feeling came over you. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I just need to get going right now. Somebody’s waiting for me.”

“Ah, I see.” he nodded, taking a step back as you sighed in relief. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you, have a nice day.” you nodded as well, not bothering to watch him leave as you knew the consequences of such things.

As you headed to your car, you took notice of a news crew that had stationed itself across the road, right at a sidewalk that led to another array of stores. The crew was specifically focused on a hardware store that had its glass windows broken, even the farthest eye could see the bloody handprints that were splattered on the walls inside as well as other blood prints.

You shivered at the thought of what had gone down inside, instead focusing on the trunk of your car before loading everything inside. Not paying much attention to the camera crew, or at least not wanting to do so, you hopped into your car to drive out of town. But not before taking a good look at your surroundings, on edge about the eyes that were possibly watching your every move.

_____________

Home was a rather lengthy ride, no more than an hour’s time thankfully, but the searching for it was what made up for that isolation you required. Considering the situation you lived in, your partially preferred living arrangements lie in the woods outside of town, where things were calm and quiet.

Hopping out of your car, you felt as the snow began to fall once again. This meant that in the morning, the veil would be much thicker and there was no going out, especially as your small home was situated in a deep part of the woods.

Hearing your boots with every step, you unloaded the groceries which would definitely be taking more than one go. You made your way towards the cabin in front of you, coming to stop after walking onto the porch as your eyes caught crimson.

Right on the wood were boot prints, every single one as red as the blood from the hardware store.

Your eyes followed the trail that led to the door itself, and you took notice of it being ajar.

Dropping the bags onto the porch, you placed a hand on the door to cautiously take a step inside. The creak of the door was enough to have you jump back the slightest bit, especially as your eyes continued to examine the trail of blood that led into the kitchen.

Now, you knew not to act like a girl in a horror movie but…

“Hello?” you called out into the emptiness of your home, holding your keys close to either fight with them or immediately flee to the car. “Is that you-”

Soon enough your scream pierced the air as you jumped off the ground, this due to feeling a rough hand clasp onto your shoulder from behind.

Once you had turned around, you groaned at the sight of an older man that stared down at you with dead eyes.

“Michael!” you yelled at him, then fixing your jacket which had slightly crumpled up at the shoulder where you had been grabbed. “I thought you were someone else.”

The man before you in no way flinched, not even bothering to blink as he continued to watch your every move.

“You leave in the middle of the night without a word and leave me alone all day.” you mentioned before passing by him, knowing that he turned his entire body to always be facing you. “Well now that you’re done with scaring the hell out of me, I’m done with the groceries. Won’t need to go out until January I think. I hope so, since it’s starting to get pretty cold out.”

Michael Myers, the Shape or Boogeyman of Haddonfield, stood right at your door with not a care in the world. If anything, your door to your house, was his door to his house. It had been this way for quite awhile now.

A few years actually.

It was surprising that he was not wearing his mask, his blue and clouded eye completely fixated on your figure as you grabbed the bags right at the entrance.

Once you had grabbed the bags at the door and then the remaining ones in the car, you shut and locked the door before being followed by Michael into the kitchen.

After he had spared you years back, Michael had come to act like a cat. Always with his nose on the lookout for what it is you would be feeding him. Hilariously, that was just how Michael reluctantly came into your life.

“I haven’t prepared anything since I’ve been out most of the day.” you admitted, ever so quietly laughing at the soft groan that rumble in Michael’s throat. “I did find some sweet goodies at the market though. Especially at WalMart.”

Michael didn’t always understand the things you talked about, but he was always listening. Always watching. Learning.

“They have these new cookies for the season. The orange looks kind of funny, but I’m pretty sure they taste the same as the originals.” you mentioned as you set the groceries on the counter, looking through the bags as you began to put everything in its place. “I also got you some stuff to shave off that scruff.”

Michael’s eyes darted down in an attempt to look at his chin, instead seeing you hand placed under it as you softly rubbed your thumb on it.

“Though I have to admit that it’s starting to grow on me.” you smiled before making your way back to the groceries. “Just like the greys in your hair.”

It really had been a few years since you had met Michael, a relationship forming after a pretty good while. He was in his mid-twenties, practically a middle-aged man now who hadn’t been found by the authorities this entire time thanks to you.

As you began to prepare a hot beverage for yourself, and Michael who you knew would ignore it but drink it behind your back, you knew that Michael was watching you intently. His eyes were glued on your hands that grabbed a pumpkin you had purchased. Somehow, he had not even realized the large vegetable as you brought it in.

“Found a recipe you might like, especially for the cold.” you spoke before grabbing a kitchen knife, one that piqued Michale’s interest but was not enough to have him snatching it away due to its size. “Especially with all the pumpkins that are out now.”

To his dissatisfaction, you set the knife down besides the pumpkin on the counter before facing him.

“But before I make that, I’m gonna go change. These clothes are starting to make me feel stuffy.” you removed your jacket as you walked around the counter and out the kitchen, for once not being followed by Michael who was now focused on the knife you had left behind.

Knowing that you would be too focused on finding one of his shirts to wear, he approached the counter to take hold of the knife, bringing it to his face to admire how it shone under the kitchen light. He first held it pointing upwards, but changed it so that he was instead gripping it with the blade pointing down. His head craned to the vegetable beside him, and instinct got the best of him.

“I see you got started with the pumpkin.” he heard your voice, turning around after having jabbed the knife down into the pumpkin which had more than a simple wound.

Michael grabbed the knife once again to pull it out, his entire body facing you once again as he tilted his head at your figure.

Your eyes fell to the knife that contained a bit of pumpkin residue, even a seed or two managed to slip out due to Michael’s brute strength. Now your eyes were on his blank features, and you couldn’t help but give him a smirk.

_____________

It wasn’t often that you lit the fireplace as to avoid any attention from outsiders, especially authorities who had honestly given up on the search for Michael despite his former psychiatrist’s demands, but you believed that tonight was just the night for a warm fire.

Despite the cold weather, you only wore one of Michael’s shirts with socks, perhaps a little something on your bottom. You figured that there wasn’t an entire need for covering yourself when Michael was your human blanket, and one that refused to come off you.

With all of the day’s work done, you sat on the couch, or more like Michael’s lap as he sat on the couch. Your legs were crossed as your torso was constricted by Michael’s strong arms, his chin casually laying on top of your head as you ate the last of your pumpkin soup.

Both pairs of eyes stared up ahead, almost next to the fireplace where your TV screen was placed. You were both watching the moving pictures, or at least Michael resumed that when you made comments about the movie.

“That’s so cheesy, no girl would scream and faint on the spot if she saw a monster.” you ever so slightly shook your head, Michael’s chin too heavy to actually complete the motion. “At least, nowadays. However, that looked like that one scene from the latest Child’s Play movie where the guy has a heart attack.”

It was an old monster movie kind of night, your mood demanding it and Michael no doubt being curious. Frankenstein actually seemed to catch his attention.

The man’s eyes glanced down at you as he saw your arms stretch out with your empty bowl, attempting to put it on the coffee table in front of the couch. This of course was quite impossible with Michael holding you back, his grip on you only becoming tighter as you were managing to barely escape his grasp.

“Michael!” you groaned, pulling your head forwards until his arms made a ring around your hips after you were able to snake the top part of your body out.

As you reached out to set the bowl down, you felt Michael bury his face right into your back before rubbing himself all over and taking in your scent simultaneously.

“I just want to put the damn bowl down.” you wheezed, eventually releasing a sigh of relief when your glass bowl safely landed on the table. But it made you also pleased to have grabbed the plate you had prepared along with the bowls of soup, making sure it or its contents didn’t slip out of your hands as you adjusted your body to the former position.

Michael gave a grunt as he placed his chin on your head again, this time making sure that you had no way of escaping him.

“You wanna try one, Michael?” you lifted the plate just a bit, having Michael peer down at the plate that contained black little circles that smelled weirdly to him. “They’re the newest Oreos. The cookies I mentioned earlier.”

You placed the plate on your lap, wishing that that was enough to hold them up while you took one of the cookies and offered it up to Michael.

“I don’t have any milk right now because you’re not gonna let me get any, so take it like this.

Michael squinted at the cookie, the orange filling enough to have him blinking at least once. In this state of his, you were able to break free and spin your body in place so that your legs were no longer crossed but instead on either side of Michaels’ waist. The plate of cookies was safely put on the empty space of the couch so that nothing could fall.

Having a mind of their own, Michael’s hands wrapped themselves around you as he once again stared at the cookie.

“It’s just a cookie Michael.” you giggled, lowering it before taking a bite out of it yourself.

Michael’s eyes landed on your lips, watching the way they moved as you chewed the cookie piece. Tiny black crumbs adorned your lips, every now and then shifting the more you chewed.

You watched him as well, finding it how funny his curiosity was. So, you popped in the remainder of your cookie before eating it as well, now feeling one of Michael’s arms leave your waist.

Instead, his fingers brushed against the warmth of your skin as his nails carefully scraped your cheeks. The tips of his fingers now coming close to your lips, his index finger actually on your bottom lip before it pulled it down and open.

“Michael,” you breathed out, knowing that Michael was merely observing the crumbs left on your lips.

Blinking up at Michael, you saw as he brought his face down to yours. His lips now dangerously close to yours as he continued to play with your bottom lip, making your breath hitch as he neared more and more.

Soon enough you closed your eyes when Michael closed the gasp, but not with his lips but his tongue.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his tongue lick the corner of your lip, continuing onto your lips themselves. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gripping onto them as you felt his own twist around the shirt you wore.

Your lips had already been parted from the shock of Michael’s actions, that good enough for Michael to slip in his tongue to get a taste of your mouth.

He didn’t care about your nails digging into his shoulders but in fact enjoyed it, pressing your chest against his as his tongue continued to explore your cavern, tasting every bit he could. But before you could follow along with his treatment, Michael retreated himself and looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that matched yours. Well, his didn’t have as much emotion as yours for he was difficult to faze of course.

“Michael?” you sighed at him, thoughts clouded with what just happened. You were then snapped out of it when Michael let go of you with one hand, reaching to the side where the plate of cookies was.

He had grabbed another one, bringing up in between your faces and leaving it there for just a moment. Soon after, he brought it to your lips, scraping it against them before slowly slipping it in so that you could take a bite.

As you chewed the cookie, Michael took the other piece into his mouth, leaving the two of you with crumbs on each of your lips.

His tongue slid out once again, licking the crumbs off of his lips before you got the memo.

The flush on your cheeks was more than enough to warm you up on this chilly October night.

[asimpforarmin]

What Dog the AoT Characters Would Have 💛

Character(s): Armin Arlert, Sasha Braus, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Bertholdt Hoover, & Annie Leonhardt

Genre: Light-hearted, modern!au

Warnings: Mentions of animal neglect/abuse, some dog breeds commonly perceived as scary, cursing

A/n: I usually include Mikasa in my headcanons, but I just forgot until last minute that she existed ;-; so, sorry for not including her. If someone requests it, I’ll add her to the list.

💛 Armin

His parents got him a beagle puppy for one of his birthdays and he got so attached to it. He was so grateful that he had a dog and absolutely treasures him.

Named him Buddy because he’s his little sidekick and is always fun to play with and snuggle up to.

Buddy almost never shuts up though. A bird flies past the window? He starts barking. A truck goes by? Goes bonkers. He sees himself in the mirror? Shooketh.

Whenever Buddy starts going crazy, Armin picks him up, takes him away from whatever’s bothering him and scratches behind his ears. That makes Buddy practically melt into Armin’s arms and it’s so adorable. 💕

Buddy is very protective over Armin, or as protective as a dog his size could be. He always barks at the doorbell and is very wary of strangers.

If you walk into Armin’s house and Buddy has never seen you before, Armin will be sitting in a chair holding a dog who’s glaring into your soul.

You and Armin will try to have a normal conversation while Buddy is snarling and growling at you with Armin just patting his head and making an expression that says he deals with this all the time.

After a couple visits, Buddy is still tense around you but unwinds once you start playing with him.

Whenever Armin’s studying or working, Buddy will jump up into his lap and snuggle with him.

Sometimes when Armin falls asleep at his desk, he’ll have his arms on the table and Buddy in his lap.

When he’s in the car, Buddy tries to bite cars through the window. He just growls and bangs the glass with his teeth before Armin stops him from chipping a tooth.

Just how Buddy is protective of Armin, Armin’s protective of Buddy.

If someone talks shit about his dog, he’ll get sad about it. Buddy doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, he never hurt anyone.

Buddy can’t be taken to the park because he just agitates other dogs. He never gets along with them and never lets his guard down.

Buddy’s also one of those dogs who gets really dramatic. One time he was laying on the couch with his ball and it rolled off so he just started howling.

It’s also really hard to trim his nails without him growling, even though he’d never bite anyone.

Once Buddy has calmed down around someone, he’s fun to just hang around.

Armin likes to sit on the couch reading with Buddy on his lap or beside him. He’s great to study with or have around.

💛 Sasha

Adopts a 5-year-old blue greyhound from her local shelter.

She’d been volunteering there for a while when the greyhound came in and just couldn’t resist.

With greyhounds being bred to hunt and Sasha coming from a family who has a hunting background, it seemed like a match made in heaven.

She bought her and gave her a bright pink collar with a little dog bone tag with her name etched in it.

Since greyhounds’ necks are so long, she gives her a big knitted scarf to wear in the winter to keep her all nice and cozy.

Was torn between naming her Snickerdoodle or Candy because they’re both cute names and are both foods, but ended up naming her Pumpkin because she couldn’t decide and Pumpkin’s a really cute name as well.

Sasha loves playing fetch with her and it’s so fun because Pumpkin can run really fast, really far.

Pumpkin almost never barks unless she’s having fun or there’s someone at the door.

Sasha’s bed is lofted by a couple feet for storage and Pumpkin has no problem getting on and off her bed.

The first time Pumpkin saw Sasha’s bed, she didn’t know what to do so just sat there looking up at Sasha. It took a couple minutes for her to realize Sasha patting the bed meant she could jump onto it.

Sasha allows her dog on any of the furniture so there’s short hairs all over the couch no matter what.

Pumpkin’s really kind and gentle around kids so Sasha can basically take her anywhere. She’s super well behaved but sometimes scares people because she jumps in excitement.

Sasha also shares her food with her dog all the time. Always packs extra whenever she goes somewhere so she can give some to Pumpkin.

If you moved in with Sasha, Pumpkin would take to you right away.

She would literally be so sweet and always make you happy all the time. 😭💕

Plays tug of war and fetch a lot with you.

If you’re working/eating at a desk, she’ll lean her head on your leg until you pet her or give her food, or both.

Overall, Pumpkin is so sweet and adorable. She will always cheer you up when you need it and always has enough energy to play.

💛 Jean

Adopted a pitbull who is now 6, but was brought into a fighting ring when he was 4.

He knew it would be a challenge to help an abused dog but wanted to give him a good home.

When he first saw him, he was covered in scars and missing part of his ear.

He named him Kane. He’s a beautiful deep reddish-brown color with a white belly.

From the first moment they met, there was a connection. Kane warmed up to Jean quite quickly for a dog who’s been through so much.

Jean took him home and slowly introduced him to lifestyle changes, like going for walks or taking baths.

He introduces him to other dogs too. Kane showed a little hostility in the beginning, but once he realized they weren’t threats he was fine being around them.

Jean pays top dollar for him. Any issue he has, he takes him to the vet and gets it fixed up. He also gets the best food for him because that’s what he deserves.

Kane loves going for car rides. Sometimes Jean will get in the car with him, no destination in mind, and just drive.

Jean rolls the window down and Kane pokes his head outside. His mouth opens and because of the wind going into it, he showers the window behind him in slobber.

Kane absolutely loves swimming. He’s quite good at it, but Jean still takes a lot of safety precautions, such as a life jacket or shallow water because pitbulls are known to be somewhat bad swimmers.

Every summer, Jean takes out a kiddie pool and lets Kane splash around in it.

He also really likes to turn on the hose or sprinkler and aim it at Kane. He jumps up to bite the water and they both have a great time.

It can be a problem though because when Jean’s trying to fill the pool up, Kane keeps batting the hose with his paw or trying to eat the water and Jean has to get him to relax.

Other than his little quirks, Kane’s a relatively chill dog. He’s alright with being dressed up in costumes or having to wear a cone.

Every halloween, Jean gets both of them a matching costume and they sit on the porch to give kids candy.

Jean also lets the kids pet Kane because over time, he gets very welcoming of people and other dogs he doesn’t know.

Long story short, Kane’s not the dog you want to protect your house, if someone broke in, he’d just start wagging his tail and not be able to tell what’s going on.

💛 Connie

Saw how cool Jean’s dog is and also wanted a badass and cool breed.

He ended up adopting a doberman pinscher.

Like Jean’s dog, she looks strong and intimidating.

Unlike Jean’s dog, she acts the complete opposite of how she looks.

She’s often quite jittery or seems scared. Whenever someone even remotely raises their voice, her ears go down and she lowers her head.

You and Connie often have to give her tons of pets and appreciation after shouting, whether it’s good or bad shouting.

She’s also a total cuddlebug. She loves to be on Connie’s lap 24/7 and sleeps right next to him, watching over him.

Because of her timid personality, Connie named her Lily. It’s a sweet and innocent sounding name. Even though he sought her out to be a “cool” dog, she’s super sweet and didn’t want to name her something that conflicted with who she really was.

One thing about Lily is she loves running. Connie likes to skateboard alongside her as she pulls him along. It’s not much effort for her because Connie’s lightweight and uses his feet a lot. Plus, the area they live is pretty flat, so they often do.

Lily has a hard time understanding what is and isn’t a toy. One time she nearly chewed off one of the sofa legs. Next time Connie sat on it, it snapped and then he figured out Lily was behind it.

After that, he trained her to know everything he puts in her basket is a toy, but everything else isn’t. Then, she used the basket as a toy.

She goes through toys lightning quick.

Every time you or Connie give her a new stuffed animal, it takes approximately .2 seconds for it to be torn to shreds.

Connie loves to take her to PetSmart and let her pick out toys in-store.

If she chooses a toy that means Connie won’t need to guess what she likes and what she doesn’t.

One time she chose one of those scented rope toys, but once Connie took the packaging off, she started acting weirdly.

Once he gave it to her, she started barking at it and whacking it with her paw.

Connie was super confused so he threw it and she chased after it like normal, but once she got close to it she started acting scared of it and barking.

It’s been like that ever since now so they just don’t play with that toy.

Lily doesn’t bark that often. She usually only barks from excitement or when she meets someone new.

She also doesn’t have the zoomies that much so she’s a really relaxed dog to hang with.

💛 Bertholdt

Bertholdt saw his neighbors packing their stuff in a van one day and leaving but saw they left their samoyed leashed up outside.

He wanted to hold out hope that they were just going out somewhere for a bit so waited the rest of the night but found the dog still chained up the next morning in the rain.

He was never close to his neighbors and didn’t want any confrontation so he went up and knocked on the door, checking if anyone was home.

No surprise, they weren’t so he cautiously made his way over to the dog.

It was so happy to see someone and started licking his hand right away.

He unchained the dog and led it into his house where he gave it a nice warm bath and some food.

While bathing her, he took off her collar, with the neighbor’s number and address engraved in it along with her name, Mavis.

While Mavis was eating he called the number he found on her tag. He explained that the dog looked like it was left there on purpose so he took it in until they got home. They just said they didn’t want her anymore and hung up, which broke Bertholdt’s heart.

So he took her to the vet, got some pet things because he hasn’t owned a pet previously and she became a big part of his life.

She clings to him everywhere and won’t ever leave his side. Almost never barks and is super good on a leash.

Bertholdt takes her to the dog park a lot, Mavis is very social and has made a lot of friends there.

Mavis has quite the habit of rolling around in the mud or dirt though so Bertholdt has to give her a bath quite often.

Bertholdt absolutely cannot contain the dog hair. There is so much of it and it’s everywhere, went through like 3 lint rollers in the first week.

He spoils her rotten. Whenever he goes shopping he gets her new treats and toys because he swore to do right by her when her old owners didn’t.

If you were brought into the equation, Mavis would love you unconditionally. She’ll be there to give you high-fives and cuddle with you.

She is the softest thing on the planet so the cuddles are amazing. If you and Bertholdt sleep together, she’ll plop herself right in between the both of you so she could get attention until you fall asleep.

Whenever she needs something but isn’t up, she licks your face until you give her what she wants.

Even though she can get quite hot in the summer, she always wants to cuddle and loves to do it, whether it’s with you or Bertholdt.

💛 Annie (normally I don’t write for her but I couldn’t get this scenario out of my head)

Hitch gave her a chihuahua for her birthday even though she never remotely hinted at wanting a dog.

She didn’t want to return it though and oddly liked it, even though she never asked for him.

Just calls him “Dog” for a bit since she doesn’t know what to name him.

He’s a tan deer head dog so Annie gives him the name “Biscuit” after a couple weeks.

It’s super generic but she doesn’t think he needs any fancy name and he looks like a biscuit so 🤷🏻‍♀️

She has one of the backpacks with a compartment to fit a dog.

She likes to put Biscuit in there and take him out when she goes out.

When Annie takes him out, Biscuit is usually pretty chill, aside from giving a couple glares to random people.

Sometimes he even falls asleep in her backpack.

Whenever someone pisses Annie off, Biscuit senses it. Annie isn’t usually one to get into a full-blow fight and be loud, so Biscuit is her volume. Whenever she starts going off, he starts growling and barking.

And when she does get loud, both of them are yelling and screaming so that often deters the other person.

When she first got Biscuit, Annie didn’t really pay that much attention to him. She’d be on the couch and whenever he came up to her with a ball or toy, she’d throw it.

Then as she started to get used to him, she started to like him more.

Nowadays, she sometimes chases him around the house with a smile on her face and it’s so adorable, especially because she doesn’t smile all too often.

Biscuit is relatively calm, even for a chihuahua. He can often be seen on the couch on his back with his tongue out laying in the sun.

Speaking of being on the couch, originally Annie wanted to keep him off all furniture but soon realized he simply wouldn’t stay off and she didn’t want to bother to train him not to.

Now, they share almost everything. She sleeps with him next to her, they relax on the couch together, and sometimes she even brings him up on one of the kitchen chairs and they share food together.

Biscuit hates her alarm clock with a passion. If Annie doesn’t wake up from the alarm, she wakes up from the high pitched barks of her dog wanting her to turn it off.

Once the two are close, they are bonded for life and can be seen everywhere together.

[finnwrld]

tuesdays

pairing: hermione x reader (no pronouns are mentioned but there are mentions of coming out and the reader being in the girls common room)

word count: 2.3k

requested by: @schese​ (i’m so sorry this took so long, i’ve had a lot of homework)

warnings: slight swearing, mentions of food, slight angst

summary: hermione granger hates tuesdays. why? because her bad luck seems to spike everytime the day comes around. 

a/n: IM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN SO FUCKING LONG OH MY GOD

i also tried out a new writing style for this so bare with me

i hope you enjoy some #sapphic shit because i am in love with hermione

Hermione Granger hates Tuesdays.

Not because of any logical reason, no. But because she can’t remember the last time something bad didn’t happen to her on a Tuesday. 

She realized her continually terrible luck on Tuesdays when, for the sixth week in a row, she was late to her Tuesday charms class. And this wasn’t just a minute or two late, that was excusable. For the last six weeks, she had been over 15 minutes late. 

Fifteen minutes late. Six weeks in a row. 

Hermione wasn’t one to be superstitious. She thought the whole “break a mirror and you have seven years of bad luck” or “don’t walk under ladders” thing was a load of rubbish made up to scare naive people. Nothing bad could actually happen if she opened an umbrella indoors. It made much more sense to open one indoors anyway considering if you open an umbrella outside there is still around seven seconds to get wet. 

But that wasn’t the point. Hermione wasn’t superstitious. 

But there was no explanation for the horrible Tuesdays she kept having. Because it wasn’t just being late for class. It was forgetting about a test, spilling her morning pumpkin juice on her shirt, stirring her potion clockwise instead of counterclockwise. And the worst of all, admitting her crush on you, her best friend, to none other than Ron Weasley. 

She hadn’t meant to, of course, she hadn’t even come out yet, but she was so tired. Ron had been going on and on for what felt like hours, about how well Hermione matched with each of the boys in the school. He had gone all the way through almost every house and had started matching her up with Slytherins.

When he got to Crabbe she had had enough and jumped up shouting, “RON, I FANCY Y/N. NOT ANY OF THESE COCKROACHES!”

The conversation afterward was not a fun one. 

So no, Hermione wasn’t superstitious. 

But she hated Tuesdays.

-----

This particular Tuesday started, unsurprisingly, with Hermione sleeping past her alarm. 

“Hermione! Hermione wake up!” somebody was calling into her ear. She opened her eyes and when they focused they landed on you. 

“Merlin, Granger. You’re going to miss breakfast,” you said, turning away from her to pull your hair up. 

Hopping out of bed, she quickly threw on her robes and shoes. She cursed her hair for never laying the way she wanted it to, and was out of the dorm in 10 minutes. 

You were waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.

Blushing slightly at your abrupt appearance, the two of you set off to the Great Hall. 

“Y/n come on,” Hermione whined as you trailed back, not matching her brisk walk. 

“What are you on about? I’m taking my time down to the Hall, there is no rush,” you said, purposely slowing down and making quite a big deal of looking at a painting of a frog. 

“Y/n this is not the right day to do this!” 

You raised your eyebrows at her, “Are you still going on about your whole ‘Terrible Tuesday’ thing?” 

“It’s not my ‘Terrible Tuesday’ thing,” she grumbled, grabbing onto your wrist to pull you away from the painting. “I have bad luck on Tuesdays, it’s non-debatable.” 

“Maybe you just think you have bad luck on Tuesdays and you are manifesting your bad luck.” 

“Manifesting my bad luck?” Hermione scoffed in disbelief, “That is absurd. How can you manifest bad luck? ” 

“It’s much more probable than the universe just deciding to hate you on Tuesdays.”

“Well, I do have bad luck on Tuesdays! Last week I had to wear my shoes with no socks because somebody hid them all!” Hermione said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. A poorly stifled giggle slipped out of your lips.

“No...” Hermione said, realization hitting her, “Y/n YOU BUFFOON!” she shouted, going to punch your shoulder. You narrowly dodged her hand and jogged a few meters in front of her, far out of her reach. 

“It was funny!” you called down to her. 

“I hate you,” she called back, sticking out her tongue. She shook her head as she watched you turn and start towards the Great Hall. 

Hermione loved these mornings. It was common for the two of you to walk down to the Great Hall together for breakfast, bickering about the homework that was due that night or how you never wore matching socks. It was a very pretty walk to get down to the Great Hall as well. You both took a certain route so that you could pass through one of the many outdoor corridors of Hogwarts. You loved it because of the peacefulness of nature in the morning, she loved it because of the way the sun shined on your features, illuminating each dip and curve of your face. Of course, there was the added bonus that nobody was around you guys. It felt as if the two of you had your own secret world. 

Hermione finally made it to the Great Hall, quickly finding you, Harry, and Ron in the crowd of Gryffindors. You and Harry were deep in conversation, evidently arguing about who did better in the Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff quidditch match. 

“It was obviously Ravenclaw,” you said, “I mean did you see the save that Andre did? I doubt even Oliver could’ve done that.” You spoke a lot with your hands Hermione noticed. Each one flew all around your person, emphasizing each sentence you would say. 

“Better than Oliver?” Harry exclaimed, “With the goal he let in from Smith? Yeah sure. Definitely better than Oliver.” 

“Oh shove off, Harry. Hi, Granger!” 

“I’m still upset about my socks,” Hermione huffed as she sat down. 

“Oh come on,” you slung your arm around her shoulder, “It was all in good fun, I’m sorry.” A hot blush blossomed on Hermione’s cheeks in response to the touch, something Ron caught on to. 

He shot Hermione a knowing wink, which was soon wiped from his face as her foot landed on his shin. 

“Ouch Hermione!” he whined, “What’s got you all upset.” 

“Oh, it’s Tuesday, remember,” you reminded. Harry let out an “ahh” of understanding. 

“Still on about that eh?” Ron said, adding a spoonful of scrambled eggs to his plate. 

“Ronald, it is proven I have bad luck on Tuesdays, do we remember what happened four Tuesdays ago?” She was, of course, referring to her accidental coming out. 

Ron thought back, “Honestly, yeah you’re right. You do have pretty shit luck on Tuesdays.” 

You raised your eyebrows, “What happened four Tuesdays ago? You never mentioned anything to me about this.” 

Hermione sucked in a quick breath. Catching Rons equally frightened eyes, she stumbled out, “Um, We… Just-” but the words were slipping out of her mouth. Not able to think clearly she spit out, “We kissed!” 

The slight smile you had on your face slid off, replaced by a look Hermione couldn’t quite put a name to. Eyebrows knitted together, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. You dropped your gaze down to your empty plate, folding your hands in your lap.

“Oh,” you murmured. At your words, Hermione finally realized your expression. Betrayal. 

Yeah, she really hated Tuesdays. 

-----

Classes went by painfully slow. 

You weren’t acting in your normal energetic way. You weren’t making the rest of the group laugh with some random joke you muttered under your breath. You didn’t join in with Ron flipping off Snape when his back was turned. You didn’t try to secretly braid Harry’s hair while he sat in front of you. 

You barely even smiled.

It was strange. It was awkward. 

This was the first time Hermione would’ve used “awkward” to describe the day with you. Even in the early stages of your friendship it wasn’t awkward. The two of you could easily set off in flowing conversation, some that would carry on for hours. But today… yup it was awkward. 

When the final bell rang Hermione was grateful to leave the stuffy classroom and get out into the fresh air. You were far in front of her, Ron, and Harry, choosing to talk to Ginny instead. 

This was upsetting for two reasons.

First, this was the first time you hadn’t walked out of class with Hermione since you had tripped Snape. (you had to stay back for an hour getting yelled at). You and Hermione had a routine and it was disconcerting to stray from it. 

Second, you looked the best right after class. Of course Hermione didn’t only like you for your looks, but it was a nice add on. You looked gorgeous all the time but something about right after lessons was different. She could barely take her eyes off you. Your hair was messy from a long day, your tie loosened. By this time of day you had usually ditched your robe, opting to just wear your shirt. Which by the way, to add insult to injury, was untucked with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows. 

Fucking Tuesdays.

----

Hermione had positioned herself against a large oak tree, a book in her hand. But it was left forgotten as her eyes weren’t trained on the pages but instead on you. 

Okay, to be honest, Hermione did pick this specific tree to sit at because it was directly across from where you were sitting with Ginny. She had planned to just sit there reading her book, hopefully getting a bit of your attention by being mysterious and whimsical sitting under the tree. But her plans of being this magical goddess were forgotten when she looked up from the pages.

You and Ginny were sitting on the ground. She was laughing, laughing harder than Hermione had ever seen her laugh before. And you. You had your arm looped around her waist, pulling her close to your body. Her head was resting in the crook of your shoulder. 

Hermione could see Ginny melt into you. She could see her muscles loosen. She could see you lean into her. 

It made her chest ache. 

Ache was the right word, Hermione decided. It was the closest word to the pain she felt deep within her at the sight of you. Ache hurt. It was intense and powerful. It spread through her chest, winding its way through Hermione's ribcage. But the reason main Hermione thought ache was the best for her feeling right now was because ache was different than pain. 

Ache was born at the heart. 

Hermione couldn’t watch you crack another joke at Ginny while you had your arm so delicately and comfortingly wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t sit in this jealousy. So she didn’t. 

Hermione tried to hold back the tears that formed in her eyes as she trudged back into the castle, she really did. But she couldn’t. They slipped past her eyelashes and dripped down her face, each tear a reminder of what she had just seen. 

She wished she could erase it, block it from her memory. She didn’t want to see it each time she shut her eyes but it was printed on the back of her eyelids. 

She needed a place to cry, somewhere quiet. 

Her feet carried her to a deserted classroom. It was void of all sound but the choked sobs that were slowly falling from her lips. 

She leaned against the wall, resting her head back and letting the tears pool in her eyes. She wished she could be Ginny, being held by you, laughing with you. It hadn’t even been a day without the normal you and she was already feeling lost. 

Hermione slowly sunk to the ground, the tears falling less and less. She clutched her book to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. 

Just as she had finished letting the breath go, the door to the classroom burst open. 

“Oh my god Hermione are you okay,” your worried voice said through the broken silence of the classroom. She looked up at you. Your cheeks were slightly pink, obviously from running, each feature of your face filled with concern. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said weakly, trying and failing to smile. 

You dropped to the ground and sat in front of her, placing your hands on her knees. 

“‘Mione you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Hermione nodded slightly. A quiet settled between the two of you, allowing your words to hang in the air

“Do you like Ginny?” Hermione said quietly. 

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Do you like her as more than a friend?” 

“No, no, no,” you said frantically, “I mean even if I did, that's a lost cause right there. Head over heels for Mr. Chosen One. Plus, I like somebody else” 

“Wait,” Hermione didn’t think she had heard right, “You don’t fancy Ginny?”

“Nope,” you said shaking your head. 

“But… but you were like… CUDDLING with her!” 

You let out a laugh, a real classic y/n laugh. It rang through the room and Hermione decided she liked your laugh especially in empty classrooms. It might’ve also been since she hadn’t heard it in a long time. 

“What?” she said, slightly annoyed.

“I was just showing Ginny some ways to flirt! There is a Hogsmead weekend coming up and we all know how touch starved Potter is so I thought I would give her some tips. We didn’t get very far though, it was too funny.” 

A smile slowly spread on Hermione lips. She was dead wrong. She had been so wrong. She had never been so happy to be wrong in all of her time at Hogwarts. Suddenly the ache she was feeling had been replaced by giddiness, even… a touch of recklessness 

“What's got you all excited-” 

But you couldn’t finish your sentence because Hermione had cupped your cheeks in her hands and pressed her lips onto yours. 

And not only did Hermione build up the courage to kiss you… but you kissed her back. 

Maybe Tuesdays weren’t so bad afterall. 

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

general

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[comfortwriting]

The Right One - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Prompt 31: “What made you think we were serious?” he spat “did you really think I’d go out with you?”

Requested/About: Fred is in love with his friend Y/N and knows he wants to marry her one day, he makes and move and they are looking forward to going on their first date - but all of that changes when George confesses his feelings for Y/N, to Fred.

A/N: I have a second part to this imagine which is smut based which you can now read: here

Warnings: swearing, mention of food and eating, a cheeky kiss towards the end.

Sitting high up in the stands, you’re watching Fred practice Quidditch, your heart skipping beats each time he flashes you a smirk or a cheeky wink, everything he does make you want him more - whether it be making a pig's ear of a potion, coming up with a new prank, chatting to his brother - hell, he simply breathes and you’re amazed.

Fred is head over heels for you, he already knows he’s going to marry you and whilst everyone is fast asleep at night, he goes over the plan in his head a thousand times making sure that when the day comes, everything will go perfectly to plan.

Unfortunately, the two of you were quite stubborn when it came to making the first move - you were too shy and scared of being rejected, and Fred felt anxious about making you uncomfortable - you were both trapped in the awkward ‘friends but too close to be friends but flirting but not dating’ phase - you not only confused yourselves but those around you who were aware of your chemistry.

The practice came towards an end and you walked down from the stands, your eyes glued on Fred, his veins bursting through his sweaty and dirt-stained hands, his hair standing up in all directions and sticking to his forehead, you smirked and giggled at the sight of him.

“How was it?” you smiled, walking towards him.

Fred paused for a moment, catching his breath and leaning on his broom “not bad” he panted “Slytherin are going to suffer”

You chuckled and brushed the hair out of his eyes, he had a questioning look on his face for a moment.

“Y/N” he said softly “d’you fancy going to Hogsmeade this Saturday, on a date?” he asked you, looking slightly nervous.

You felt as if time slowed down, that everyone else on the pitch had disappeared and you and Fred were the only ones there, instant excitement pooled in your tummy causing butterflies to sprout and take flight.

“I would love to” you smiled widely, blushing and nodding your head “yes!”

Fred smiled just as wide and nodded, pursing his lips and breaking out into another smile “brilliant” he nodded “I’ll meet you outside Zonko’s”

His twin George came rushing over, just as sweaty and dirty, he smiled nervously when your eyes met his, you didn’t think anything of it - George was always more quiet compared to Fred.

“Angelina wants a word” he panted “something about Ron needing extra practice”

Fred sighed and rolled his eyes, “see you later, love” he waved, turning around and following his brother.

“I have a date” you whispered excitedly to yourself “with Freddie!”

Hurrying off, you ran towards the castle, breaking inside and pushing through students and stumbling up the stairs to reach your dorm room, your date only two days away - you needed as much time as you could get to plan what you would say and what you could wear.

It was now Friday evening, tomorrow you would be on a date with Fred and just the thought made you giggle and blush, you told your friends who were just as excited, giving you all the advice you needed for one of the best days of your life. Laying in your bed, you stared out of the window, you were so excited you didn’t know if you were able to sleep.

Fred and George were sitting in front of the fire in the quiet and empty common room, coming up with ideas for their dream joke shop, but Fred noticed that George wasn’t being himself - he kept losing concentration and staring off into space, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“You okay Georgie?” Fred asked, staring at his brother.

George sighed, looking more anxious “if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“I’m your bloody twin” Fred responded, sitting up in his chair and leaning towards George “of course I won’t say anything”

George swallowed hard for a moment and nodded, trying to figure out how to say this without Fred taking the piss out of him.

“You know Y/N?” George spoke up.

Fred’s heart started to pick up in speed, his attention fully on his twin “yeah, what about her?”

Fred didn’t mention you to George at all, George knew the two of you were close friends but he didn’t see the moments between the two of you that everyone said: “screamed chemistry”.

“I’ve got feelings for her, Freddie.” George confessed, looking away from Fred and staring at his shoes “I just didn’t want to say anything because I know she’s your friend.”

Friend

Fred felt the excitement crush inside him, part of him wanted to stop George in his tracks and tell him that you were going on a date with him tomorrow, but the other part of Fred dominated him - Fred would rather choose the happiness of his brother, who was more shy and quiet, than his own - the twin who had everything he ever wanted.

Almost everything.

“That’s great, Georgie” Fred forced a smile whilst his heart wept “she’s a really nice girl, I don’t blame you.”

A really nice girl that Fred would crush instead of letting her down gently. Fred went to bed and for the first time he didn’t bother going through the plans of the future proposal, then wedding, instead he tortured himself over George being the one to put the ring on your finger, making you his wife. He hid his face in his pillow and cried, knowing how bad he was going to mess things up, but as long as George was happy - that’s all that mattered to him, and he felt sure that you would move on and be much happier with the other twin.

“Ready?” your friend Alyssa smiled, looking you over once more.

You nodded and blushed again “I’m ready, just really nervous!”

Alyssa chuckled and handed you your bag “You’re bound to be nervous, but you’ll be okay, this is exciting!”

You took your bag from her and slung it over your shoulder “thank you for everything Alyssa” you pulled her into a tight hug, making sure you didn’t ruin your makeup or hair.

“Tell me all about it when you get back!” he ordered excitedly, pulling away from the hug and sending you on your way.

Arriving in Hogsmeade, you hurried over to Zonko’s Joke Shop, because you arrived early you had enough time to sneak into the shop and buy Fred some Hiccough sweets and Sugar Quills. Carrying the bag of Fred’s goodies, you waited outside for him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then you reached one hour.

You felt your heart sink, worries and ‘what if’ scenarios filled your head and drowned out the noise of laughing students that passed by. Reaching three hours, it became clear to you that Fred wasn’t going to show up, tears filled your eyes and made your vision glassy, overflowing and running down your cold cheeks.

Storming back to the castle you stared at the ground, refusing to look up at anyone or anything, you sobbed and clutched onto the Zonko's bag so hard your hand started to cramp and your knuckles went white.

‘How could I be so stupid?’ you thought to yourself ‘I got myself dressed up in my best dress for nothing, waited outside looking like a fool while he’s probably laughing himself silly.’

But Fred wasn’t laughing himself silly at all, he didn’t get out of bed unless he needed to brush his teeth or go to the toilet, he refused to speak to George, Lee and Angelina. He curled up under his covers with tears falling down his face, his wand emitting light whilst he watched your footsteps on the Marauders Map, guilt surging through his body like poison when your footsteps stayed still and finally took off after hours of waiting.

Bursting into your dorm room Alyssa’s smile dropped and concern plastered on her face - your mascara and eyeliner streaked down your face from crying, your lips red and puffy like your eyes.

“Y/N! what's wrong? what happened?” she panicked, hurrying over to you.

You threw your shoulder bag on the floor, turning around you bumped into Alyssa and pushed the Zonko’s bag into her chest.

“He never showed up!” you wailed, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

You dragged the warm wet rag over your face, wiping off your make up with so much force your skin got irritated and red, you stared at yourself in the mirror, hating your reflection, hating the dress you were so excited to put on hours before.

Alyssa knocked on the door, she didn’t want to pry and press you for answers, instead, she handed you your clean pyjamas and took your dress to put away, she walked into the bathroom when you opened the door, pulling you into a comforting hug whilst you sobbed in her arms.

Like Fred, you refused to leave your bed all weekend, you refused to speak about what happened. Perhaps you waited in the wrong place, perhaps he meant another week, you tried to convince yourself that this was your fault, that you got things wrong - but deep down you knew this wasn’t your doing, but Fred’s.

Sunday evening rolled around and Alyssa walked back into the dorm with a bag full of food, she sat on the side of your bed and opened up the bag full of your favourite puddings and drinks.

“The house-elves encouraged me to take as much as I could fit in this bag” she laughed lightly “please eat something sweetheart, it doesn’t have to be much”

You nodded and sat up in your bed, giving in you drank your pumpkin juice and had a few slices of Apple Pie.

Monday morning you were up early and out of bed, trying to be as fresh as a daisy as you could - everything was going well until you had double potions with Fred. You planned to ignore him, play it as if you didn’t care and that the loss was his, but your thoughts and needs for answers clawed at you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Have a good weekend, then?” you asked Fred bravely, watching your cauldron simmer.

“No comment” he replied, refusing to look at you, trimming his ingredients.

“Why did you stand me up?” you asked again, gaining more courage “think it would be funny?”

“No comment” Fred answered again, adding the ingredients to his cauldron, causing it to hiss and change from dark green to bright red.

You began to lose your patience but you didn’t give up, opening your mouth and asking Fred once more why he didn’t show up on Saturday made his guilt surge through his heart so painfully he didn’t know how to handle himself except lash out at you.

“What made you think we were serious?” he spat “did you really think I’d go out with you?”

Hearing his brothers outburst, George looked over to you and Fred, he had no idea what was going on but he had to do something - seeing you so hurt and upset made George feel sick.

You weren’t prepared for such a hard blow, you felt as if you had been slapped in the face and punched in the chest, you didn’t reply - you just stared at Fred with your jaw hanging, the tears you were controlling so well broke through and filled your eyes.

Fred’s heart broke even more at your reaction, he had broken the person he loved more than anything in the world and it would be too late now to make things right, to have you give him a chance to explain - but at least now he had given George a chance to play hero and pick up those broken pieces of your own heart to fix them the best he could.

You quickly took a sample of your potion and handed it to Snape, storming back to your desk, you picked up your bag and hurried out of the dungeons, breaking out into a sob - your wails so loud the class could still hear you.

George left his cauldron to overflow, running after you and calling out your name down the halls before he finally caught up to you. He pulled you into a comforting hug and you cried into his chest, gripping onto his warm woolly jumper.

“I wish it was you George” you cried “I really do, if it was I wouldn’t be in this bloody awful situation”

It dawned on George that this definitely had something to do with Fred and when he told him about his feeling for you. Sitting back in the same chairs in front of the fire in the empty common room before bed, George turned to Fred and searched his dull eyes.

“Do you like Y/N?” George asked quietly.

Fred shook his head “no”

George sighed and continued to stare at his brother “look at me, Freddie”

George knew that his brother couldn’t lie to his face and he knew by doing this he would get the right answers he needed.

“Are you in love with her?”

Fred paused and tried to lie but he couldn’t do it - he looked towards the dancing flames.

George finally understood and stood up “that’s what I thought” he stood behind his chair, wanting to know one more thing before he went off to bed “what happened between you and Y/N, you being grumpy all weekend and her being upset - does that have anything to do with what I told you last week?”

Fred put his head in his hands and nodded, George shook his head and sighed “that's what I thought, you should’ve bloody told me.”

George left the common room and went upstairs to bed, leaving his brother alone in his thoughts. Climbing in his bed, George knew exactly what to do in the morning.

George looked for you everywhere, you weren’t in the great hall for breakfast and you didn’t show up to any of your classes either, passing Alyssa he pulled her aside, asking where you were.

“the second floor, girls bathroom” she replied “and here” she rooted in her bag, pulling out the Zonko’s bag “give this to your brother when you see him, she got it him before he stood her up.”

George took the bag and thanked Alyssa, hurrying as fast as he could to reach you.

Sitting on the floor of the dingy toilets, you continued to sob in your hands, pressing them against your eyes that you could see confetti in your vision. Hearing footsteps coming closer to you, you removed your hands away from your face and opened your eyes, looking up at George standing over you.

George crouched beside you and began to rub your back, comforting you; he sighed deeply and knew it was time to tell you everything, the truth.

“I’ve got feelings for you, Y/N” he confessed softly.

This only made you feel worse, you lost Fred - someone you actually want to be with, and his brother who you care for is in love with you, you would rather sit your O.W.Ls all over again with your N.E.W.T.s at the same time than go through this.

You turned to face George, a look of shock and horror all over your face “George! You know this isn't the right time to tell me and if Fred-” you paused for a moment, feeling sick to your stomach.

“Does Fred know?” you asked quietly, looking at George.

George nodded “I told him on Friday after that Fred just went into a foul mood and you’ve been upset. He’s in love with you, Y/N, and I know you love him too.”

You stared at George, your mouth wide open, unable to process what you heard.

“He put my own happiness before his” George laughed and shook his head, pulling you into a tight hug, he smirks at you “He’s in his dorm room, go to your man” he encouraged you, handing you the Zonko’s Bag.

Feeling those same butterflies form and take flight inside of you once more, you hurried to Fred’s room, the biggest smile plastered on your face, which caught everyone’s attention, causing them to feel happy and talk amongst one another about you and Fred finally being on the same page.

Storming into Fred’s room, he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel loosely covering his lower half at the hips, stopping in your tracks you stared at him, taking in the beauty of his body; the water droplets across his abs and the steam rising off his chest and shoulders, his damp hair and the sun beaming through the window highlighting your favourite parts of him.

Fred went into shock and gripped onto his towel harder, you flash him a small, nervous smile and place the Zonko’s bag on his bedside table.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked shyly as you walked over to him.

Placing your hands gently against Fred’s cheeks, you leaned in slowly and pressed your lips against his. Kissing back, Fred deepened the kiss and dragged his tongue against your lower lip, both of his hands took you by the waist, completely forgetting about his towel, it fell to the floor.

Tags: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @escapingrealitybyreading @lucymfer @freddiemylovelg

[mediocre-writerr]

invisible string [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x reader

requested by anon: Hey, I love your writing and I loved Quinn Fabray's miniseries. Could you do a sequel to "Betty", maybe Quinn and the reader meeting in episode 100 and giving them a second chance? I would love :)

pt.1  pt.2 pt.3

*not my gif*

There was once a old folklore. It once said that everyone had an invisible string tying one to their soulmate.

A simpler term for it would be fate.

That everyone decision, good or bad, would lead you to that one person.

The invisible gold string would drag you out of the wrong arms, wrapped all of your past mistakes, and chained your demons back. The one single thread would lead them to you, no matter how far you’ve strayed.

Not many people believe in it anymore because of the time. The time that it takes for the invisible string to tie one another together took far too long, maybe that’s why you didn’t believe anymore.

There you were back at McKinley High School. When Mr. Shue told you that the glee club was shutting down and you were having one last hoorah, you did not hesitate to book a first flight home.

Walking down the hallway with your classic olive green cardigan that made you feel like you seventeen again and straight back into the classroom that made you feel like home.

And there she was the beautiful blonde who held your heart and dropped it all at once, “Y/N,” she let out a breath as her eyes caught on yours.

“Hey Quinn,” you told her with a shy smile, “Long time no see,”

“Yeah, how has college at Penn State?” she asked as the two of you made small conversation in the middle of the choir room.

You shrugged, “It’s been nice, I don’t know if it’s everything I’ve dreamed it would be, but it’s good. How’s Yale?”

The two of you didn’t live far, it wasn’t all the way across the country. It was driving across a few state lines, but you never hung out. In fact, you barely talked after the two of you had broken up.

“Good, good. It uh feels like I’m missing something, but I don’t think I would change my decision,” she told you and you nodded.

She was about to say something else when you heard someone scream your name, “Y/N!” Sam yelled as he rushed over towards you.

You broke out into a big smile as he picked you up from off the ground, spinning you around and around. You let out a hearty laugh as he set you down.

“I’ve missed you!” he told you as he let go.

You smiled, “I’ve missed you too, bud. I wish our third musketeer was still here with us,” you said with a sad smile.

He let out a sigh, “I know, me too,” he turned to Quinn who looked hurt and jealous at the same time. Do you know why? No, but she always has been hard to read.

“Hey Quinn,” he said, giving her a tight hug.

She hugged him back with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Hey Sam, I’m gonna go catch up with Mercedes. I’ll catch the two of you later,”

You and Sam looked at each other with furrowed brows before eventually shrugging it off.

You thought that coming back here would bring back loads of bad memories from the cheating to the heartbreak to losing Finn, but it didn’t. As the day went on you remembered why you fell in love with her in the first place.

The way she sang, so full of heart. When she crinkled her nose as she smiled. Or how big her heart is for people she actually lets in.

And at first you weren’t too sure, but when the nostalgia of the club forced you guys to sing your iconic duet, it just hit you harder than before.

“I think we need the iconic rendition of Everything Has Changed from Quinn and Y/N,” Mercedes admitted and your heart immediately stopped.

You looked at Quinn who was already staring at you, like she was seeking approval, “Let’s give the people what they want,”

You grabbed your guitar playing the soft acoustic intro, as she stood on the opposite side of the room, both of you unable to look away from the other.

“All I knew, this morning when I woke is I know something now, know something now, I didn’t before. And all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago is green eyes and freckles in your smile in the back of my mind, making me feel like,” she began to sing and you forgot how soothing her voice was. Like everything in the world kind of faded away at the sound of her voice.

As the song went on the two of you closed the gap between you until you were face to face. The only thing separating the two of you was the guitar that was wrapped across your body.

“All I know is we said ‘hello’ and your eyes look like coming home. All I know is a simple name and everything has changed. All I know is you held the door, you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours. All I know since yesterday is everything has changed,” the two of you sang.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her only doing so when they averted to her lips. Like two puzzle pieces that were supposed to fit together, you were about to connect when the sound of clapping tore you from each other. And with one last lingering look, you broke the gaze as everyone was clapping and smiling like we were all seventeen again.

You didn’t know what to do though. Finn was usually the one to give you advice, but he wasn’t here, so you did the second best thing. The boys locker room was empty as his football jersey hung proudly on the wall. The big number five just staring back at you.

“Hey buddy, I’m in kind of a dilemma right now,” you told him honestly, “And I really wish you were actually here to tell me what to do. You were always good at that,”

He probably would’ve chuckled at what you said, recalling the time where he told you to not eat that funnel cake on senior ditch day before the rollercoaster, but you did anyway and puked all over his shoes.

“I think I’m still in love with Quinn and that absolutely terrifies me. I don’t want to get hurt again,” you whispered, tears staring to sting your eyes when you realize he’s not gonna be there to hug you.

“I’ve been so scared to put myself back out there and when I do it just feels like no one compares to him. And God I wish you could be here right now to tell me what to do because you would know, you always did,”

That’s when you heard someone clear their throat. You looked to find the source of the noise, seeing Coach Beiste standing there next to the office door.

“Hey pumpkin, do you mind if I sit here?” she asked as she pointed to the empty seat on the bleacher.

All you did was nod, before wiping your eyes, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be here,”

“Eh it’s okay. You aren’t the first girl who’s come in here to talk to him,” she told you with a shrug.

“Rachel come in here too?” you asked.

She shook her head, “Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ in the word, “Quinn, turns out she needed advice of her own and she asked him a question,”

“About?” you asked, curiously.

“I can’t tell you that,” she confessed. 

“Hey Finn,” Quinn told him, staring at the jersey that was hanging on the wall, “God I don’t think I ever stopped loving her. Actually I know I never stopped loving her, but I’m so scared Finn. I don’t know if she’ll give me a shot or anything, but I don’t want to hurt her,” she confessed.

There was a moment of silence, before she continued on again. 

“I’m so scared that I’m gonna hurt her again and she doesn’t deserve that. But if I don’t tell her how I feel then she’s gonna be the one who got away,” she contemplated it for herself for a second, “Do I have your blessing to love her again? I know how much she meant to you. If you do give me a sign, anything,” 

She sat there on the bench for a moment before something fell off the shelf. She let our a teary laugh, “Thank you,” 

After a little more time she left the room as Coach Beiste left her office to pick up the towel that she dropped. 

“I know I’m not Finn, but do you mind if I give you some advice?”

“Please, I really need it right now,”

She smiled, rubbing your back, “Go for it. If Finn was here he’d tell you something like ‘don’t give up on something that would be good for you’. And I bet if he could come down here right now and tell you one piece of advice it would be dont take life for granted. Don’t let the love of your life slip away like he did. I think that was his one big regret, not being with Rachel before he passed. I think he wants you to be happy,”

“And my advice the two of you are mature now. All of the negative emotions and feelings are easier to talk out now. So talk and just go for it, life’s too short to waste another second,” she told you and you smiled at her with teary eyed.

“I miss him,” I whispered, staring back at the jersey on the wall. 

“Me too, pumpkin, me too,” 

After a few more minutes, you hopped back onto your feet and went to find Quinn. You searched every hallway and every classroom for Quinn, but came up empty. Until you found her outside by the football field. There was a little tree made out in his honor, she was looking at it, just staring, contemplating everything.

“Quinn!” you shouted and her head shot up to the name of her voice.

You were making a bee-line straight for her, “Y/N are you-” but you cut her off and kissed her. Your hands grasping her cheeks and pulling her towards you. 

The two of you pulled away and looked at each other, “Everyone deserves a second chance,” 

“Are you sure?” she asked you, a small smile on her face.

“Very, very sure,” 

The invisible string tied her to you. 

[zafirosreverie]

Can you make a Agatha x reader where Agatha accidentally blast reader with her magic and is unconscious but can here everything. And she can hear Agatha trying to wake her up but for some reason she can’t wake up so Agatha takes care and of her until she wakes up. But reader hears everything Agatha says to her. With a good and fluffy ending please. I love you work it gives me life🥰!!!!

Aww that's so sweet of you love! Thank you so much!

This ended up being longer than i intended but i loved writing it! I hope you enjoy it and that it was what you expected ❤

Warnings: angst but a happy ending

The day that time stopped (Agatha x Fem!reader)

Ah, shit. Well, you fucked up. 

You were making a cake for your and your girlfriend to celebrate your birthday (even when you knew the date didn’t matter in the current reality of Westview), when you noticed you were out of sugar. You rolled your eyes at the cliché of the scene, pretty sure it was Westview wanting you to play the neighbor that asked for sugar, but ever since you arrived at the town, you had no intention to follow Wanda’s script unless it was necessary and it involved a scene with Agatha. 

“If I’m going to play a character, I’m gonna be the lesbian neighbor” you once said to your girlfriend, making the witch laugh. Later, when Tommy and Billy started calling you and Agnes “aunts”, you winked at her and celebrated the promotion to “lesbian aunt”. 

Smiling at the memory, you decided to ask Agatha to magically appear sugar. You knew she hated when you asked her to use her magic for something so simple, but also knew she wasn’t able to say no to you, especially on your birthday. Never was, never will.

Smirking, you had gone to the basement, not really paying attention. Your mistake. The first rule of dating a witch is to always be careful when she was doing magic.

“Ags, can you help me with th-”  You stopped talking when everything turned black.

“Y/N!”

Agatha ran to you when you fell unconscious to the floor. She was making a spell that would allow her to knock out Wanda for a moment, enough to let her steal her magic and run with you. She was so concentrated that she didn’t hear your steps and your voice made her jump. 

“Y/N” she said again, gently moving you, trying to wake you up. You didn’t answer. That’s when she noticed her hands were still glowing and she gasped in horror. She used the spell in you. The spell that was meant for a powerful magic being, used in a human. 

“I’m fine, dear. But woah, if you wanted to have me on the floor, i know a better way” You joked, trying to get up. But you couldn’t. In fact, you couldn’t move at all. “What the- Aggie? A little help?” You said, or, actually thought. Your mouth wasn’t moving, and you couldn’t even open your eyes. “Oh. Oh no”.

You knew this place. It was your mind. You were trapped in your mind. Well, shit.

“Y/N, love, please answer me” You heard Agatha saying and you knew she was scared. You felt her magic wrapping around you, and a string pulling from the back of your mind, trying, begging you to wake up. But it didn’t work. 

Agatha felt tears begin to fill her eyes. Her magic wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working?!

“Please, please, wake up dear” She whispered, pushing her magic harder.

“I’m trying!” You thought, starting to worry. If she couldn’t help, how could you get out of here? You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped in your mind. 

“Hon, don’t do this to me. Please don’t” she begged, a little desperate. It broke your heart hearing her like that.

“I’m trying, doll, but i can’t.” You thought, wishing you could do something to make her feel better. You knew she was always afraid of hurting you with her magic, and you managed to convince her that it wouldn’t happen, but now, you weren’t sure how you’ll manage to calm her after this ended. At least, you hoped it would end.

Agatha felt the tears rolling down her cheeks when she realised her magic wouldn’t be enough to wake you up. She hated herself at that moment. How could she hurt you like this? 

“I’m so sorry love, please forgive me” she whispered, pressing a kiss on your temple, taking you in her arms and carefully lifting you. She used her magic to make the spell book follow her as she took you to your shared bedroom. 

You felt her put you in the bed gently, before climbing next to you. She put your head on her lap while she quickly turned to the book, trying to find something, anything, that could help you.

“I’m gonna fix this, love, I promise” you heard her say, while one of her hands caressed your cheek. It made your fears disappear, you knew she would never stop until she made you wake up. 

“It’s ok pumpkin, take your time” you thought, wanting to hold her hand. 

Agatha read as fast as she could, anxiety blooming in her chest. It has to be something she could do, anything. She cursed herself for not being more careful, she should have closed the door to the basement, she should have heard your steps. She should have waited to do the spell, and spend the day with you instead, like you asked. It was your birthday, for lord’s sake! 

“I’m sorry, dear, I’m so sorry” she mumbled again, knowing you couldn’t hear her, but needing to say it anyway. Her free hand going up and down your arm in an attempt to calm herself. Her heart stopped for a moment when she read the last part of the spell. 

Time. It was a matter of time.

“No” she whispered and you worried. “Wait? That 's all?! I can’t wait!” she growled and you felt her throwing the book to the other side of the room. You would have jumped if you could. Agatha sighed and turned to you, gently touching your face. She knew the book was right, she just had to wait and pray for you to wake up soon.

“I should have listened to you” she whispered in your hair, pulling you closer to her “when you asked me to spend the day with you, I should have taken you in my arms and carried you to bed again. Even better, I shouldn't have even got up. I should have keep you with me” 

Your heart melted at her words. When you woke up that morning, you had covered her face with small kisses, waking her up too. You giggled when she pouted at the early hour and you reminded her it was your birthday, kissing her again before pulling her over you. She had chuckled and joked about you wanting her at all times. She wasn’t wrong.

But when you asked her to spend the day with you, she sighed and told you she had to practice the spell so she could be ready to steal Wanda’s powers. It made you pout, but you understood that she had more important things to do. Agatha promised you to spend the rest of the day with you after she was done. Too bad you weren’t that patience and fucked it all up.

What a way to spend your birthday. Trapped in your mind while your girlfriend was having a crisis trying to wake you up. Great, just great. 

“If any ancient and mystic force is listening, please don’t take her away from me” She whispered suddenly, hugging you tighter.

When she was a young witch, her mother and the rest of the coven would often say there were other forces, stronger than witches, and that they’d help them when their magic wasn't enough. But she never believed that. For Agatha, a witch that relied on other than her magic, was weak and not worthy of being a witch at all. 

That was until she met you and she was afraid of her magic for the first time. You were just a human, but you meant the world for her and her magic could be too much for you to handle. A witch afraid of her power was a dangerous thing.That’s why she didn’t tell you she was a witch until you made clear you were serious with her. 

It was a huge relief when you looked at her with wonder in your eyes after she told you. She was afraid you would be scared and run away from her, but you had been eager to be part of her world, to learn everything she had to teach you, to understand and support her. She loved you more than anything.

Except power. A voice said in her head, making her feel guilty. Her hunger for power made her often leave you alone for days, even months. She never thought too much about it because when she came back, you were always there, waiting for her. You never complained about it, never said you felt alone, even when she saw it in your eyes. You never tried to change her. 

And it hurted her heart, realising how much you loved her. You didn’t say it out loud too often, but you were always making small things to prove it. And she took them for granted. But now, she saw how little she did for you, how small it was what she gave you, when you always gave her the world. Your world.

“I’m so sorry” she cried again, kissing you softly “I promise i will never leave you alone again, love. I promise i will give you everything i have, everything i am”

You frowned in your mind. You were heartbroken. You didn’t want to hear her like that.

“You already did it, Aggie” you thought “You give me all I want everyday you share your world with me. Every time you answer my questions, no matter how simple they are, when you allow me to watch you do magic, when you hug me, every kiss you give me. That’s all i want, and you give it to me everyday”.

“I’m so sorry i make you wait for me for too long” she said, unaware of your thoughts “It isn’t fair for you, I shouldn’t take your presence for granted” her tears falling to your face as she kissed you again.

“Please don’t cry, love” you begged on your mind. Stupid spell. Then, you remembered watching a documentary when you were alone in a hotel room, waiting for her to return from a reconnaissance trip.

It was about how human’s mind can be powerful and even made some people recover from serious injuries. At that moment, you laughed and thought it was a silly idea, but hearing Agatha like that, was enough to try anything. 

“I don’t deserve you” you heard the witch whispering. She sounded so broken. 

“Ok, that’s enough” you thought and tried again to move. Nothing.

“You’re too much for me” she mumbled.

“Okay, mind. You and I are not understanding each other. Either you help me here or we're going to have serious problems.”

“I promise i will do anything to be worthy of you” one of her tears fell into your own eyelid. 

“WAKE UP!” You thought, desperately “She’s crying! Just wake up, god damnit” You yelled on your mind. But Agatha’s magic was strong and you couldn’t move. It seemed like whoever made that documentary, never met a powerful witch.

You sighed and wanted to cry. But you couldn’t even do that.

____________

Agatha spent all day crying and hugging you, apologizing for what she did to you and promising you she would never use her magic around you ever again. You wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault and the fact that she wanted to hide what she really was, broke your heart. 

You couldn’t know how much time had passed, but you were sure it was hours. When you felt Agatha changing your clothes gently (with her own hands, not her magic, you noticed), you knew it was night already. You spent your birthday trapped on your mind because you didn’t want to play your role and ask for sugar.

“Goddamnit Y/N” You scolded yourself.

You felt Agatha taking you in her arms again after she changed herself too. She pressed a kiss on your temple and you knew she didn’t stop crying all day. You were sure she didn’t even eat anything. God, it was a nightmare.

___________

Days passed and you were still unconscious. Agatha was so scared and tired. She barely slept and didn't even eat properly. She didn’t want to be away from you for too long, in case you woke up, but her hopes were always shattered when the night came and you didn’t wake up. It all felt like the same day, as if the time had stopped for her.

She didn’t go downstairs. The living room was still decorated with everything you had put for your birthday. At first, she told herself that she didn’t clean anything because you would be awake soon and you two could celebrate. But deep inside, she just wasn’t able to look at the decorations without getting to her knees and cry. She felt so guilty. 

“She just wanted to spend the day, her day, with you Agatha” she scolded herself “You couldn’t even give her a single fucking day” she said angrily. 

How could she claim to love you when she couldn’t even put her hunger for power aside? For just one day? She swore that the moment you wake up, she will take you and leave this hunted town. She will never let her own selfish wishes get between you two ever again. 

“You’re lying” The voice in her head mocked “You know the moment you get the chance to get more power, you’ll put her aside again. You won’t even keep the promise of leaving this place, not until you get that magic”

Agatha gasped when she finally noticed the voice her head was making up. It was her mother’s. She felt herself hit the floor and rested her in the wall, her tears rolling down her cheeks again. She already lost count of how much time she has spent crying in the past days. Much more than she has ever done, that’s for sure. 

It felt like the puzzle of her life was missing a part, and that was you. You were the piece that made her chaos make sense. And she was so lost without you. 

“Aggie” a soft whisper said, too low she almost didn’t hear it. She stood up quickly, but didn’t move. It wasn’t the first time her mind played tricks on her. She had heard your voice a few times, but everytime she ran to your side, you were still unconscious. Not sleeping well was taking its toll.

She was about to sit on the floor again, when she heard the whisper again.

“Aggie”

She didn’t want to get her hopes high again, but she also didn’t want you to wake up without her right next to you. You had already spent too much time waiting for her. 

You groaned when you felt yourself moving. It started subtly, your fingertips tapping on the bed, then your ankles shaking a little. It felt too good having a body again. You couldn’t say it was an awakening, because you’ve been aware of everything the whole time and you actually didn’t sleep at all. It seems like sleeping was for the body, but the mind was always awake, you just weren’t conscious of it.

Being “awake” for days wasn’t as tiring as it sounds, but it was a nightmare because it meant that you were aware of everything. You heard the birds outside your window, you felt the sun on your face, you heard people outside the house. The world kept moving without you. 

But the worst part was hearing Agatha breaking.

You heard all the words she said to you, all her fears, her guilty. You heard the promises she made, the desperation in her voice. You felt how scared of even touching you she was, thinking she would hurt you even more. But hearing her cry until she fell asleep, everynight, too broken and hating herself, god, it was too much. She cried like she never ever cried before, prayed for what she never prayed for. She struggled with heartache and fear. 

Agatha didn’t know, but you made promises to her too.

You promised to be more careful, you promised to always listen to her warnings, to be more patient and wait for her to finish her magic stuff. To always knock on the basement door and wait for her to tell you to come in. But above all, you promised to tell her how much you loved her, to hold her in your arms and do everything you could to make her feel better. You just wanted to erase her pain and guilt.

So, when you finally got your voice back, the first thing you did was calling her name. The syllables felt so good on your tongue. The rest of your body wasn’t awake yet, you couldn’t even open your eyes, but you didn’t mind. You called her, knowing she was always near you, so she would hear you, she had to.

“Aggie” you whispered again, and not even a second later, you heard her footsteps in the hall. She opened the door quickly and almost threw herself to the bed, taking you in her arms.

“Y/N?” she asked softly, staring at you carefully. Her heart stopped when she saw a small smile on your lips. You were awake. You really were awake.

“Hiya, SugarPlum” you said softly, slowly opening your eyes. There was no way in the world you would miss the smile you knew that was blooming on her beautiful face. 

Agatha sobbed a little and smiled at the pet name, while you finally, finally, opened your eyes. 

“Y/N” she whispered, praying this wasn’t another of her dreams.

“Shh, it’s me, I’m here” you assured her, slowly lifting your hand and caressing her cheek. 

The contact was all she needed to finally let herself go. She cried again, but this time, it was full of happiness. She hugged you tightly and kissed you. You happily kissed her back, happy that your body decided to fully wake up at that moment. Without missing a second, you pulled her over you. Agatha giggled a little, but the tears were still rolling down her cheeks. 

You wiped them before you kissed her again. God, how much you missed kissing her. It was different from when she traveled, because this time you were right there, but you couldn’t do anything. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered, hiding her face on your neck “I’m so so sorry”

“Shhh, it’s ok love. It wasn’t your fault” you said, rubbing her back.

“It was. I shouldn’t have-” she started but you have heard it enough when you were trapped.

“leave me behind. Or pushed me. Or taking me granted. Or should have listened to me and spent the day with me” you said, having memorized all her regrets.

Agatha looked at you, confused. You chuckled and caressed her face again. 

“I heard it” you confessed “i heard it all, Atha” 

“You could hear me” she whispered, but it wasn’t a question. You nodded and saw how her face changed between confuseness, happiness and shame. You heard everything?

You giggled, making her look at you again.

“Everything, my love” you said and kissed her again “but let me tell you something. You don’t have to stop using your magic around me. You don’t have to give up who you are for me. I love you, all of you”

“But i- i wasn’t fair to you, i left you and-”

“You didn’t. Everyday I get to be by your side, proves to me how much you love me. Dear, I waited all my life to meet you. Some hours, days, months, doesn’t matter. Because I know you will always come back to me.” 

Agatha was speechless, so she did the only thing she could. She kissed you agains, with all the love she had for you. 

__________

The next day, you two sat in your garden, eating the cake you made, both of you covered in flour from the little war you had in the kitchen. You kissed her cheek and she wrapped an arm around you. 

“I’m sorry i didn’t get you a proper gift” she said and you pressed a finger on her lips. 

“Nope, no more apologies. You promised” you said and she smiled, kissing your finger. “Besides, i don’t know about you, but i think not dying was a pretty good birthday present” 

“Don’t even joke about it” she warned you and you giggled “I’m serious, Y/N” 

“hmmm, add ‘Harkness’ to the last word and you have a deal” you winked and laughed when she blushed. 

You really loved your witch.