#they even tried to make up other ones but there just wasn't
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days ago
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Tattoos: Christmas
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Teeny
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The babbling on the baby monitor is what wakes Ingrid.
It's still dark out, no source of light spilling out through the gap in the curtains and there's a slight chill in the air that tells her the heating hasn't come on just yet.
But none of that is what wakes her, safe and wrapped up in a warm cocoon of blankets and head resting comfortably on her pillow.
It's the babbling on the baby monitor on the bedside table that does that.
The only thing that can draw Ingrid out of her slumber before her natural body clock does.
It's so strange that something can do that now, that just the barest hint of babbling on the monitor reaches Ingrid at her most relaxed moments, that just the barest hint of you being up and awake means Ingrid will be too.
A small smile appears on her face, blinking awake fully and now actually understanding what's going on in your bedroom.
You're definitely the one babbling, the one making all sorts of soft, content little noises like your lips smacking together and your little high pitched giggles.
But there's another presence in your room too.
Another voice.
"Shhh, little one," Mapi says, her voice slightly distorted over the monitor," We don't want to wake up your Mumma before her surprise is ready."
Your babbling, however, gets a bit louder and Ingrid hears Mapi laugh.
"Yes, look at how cute you are! Let's get this little hood flipped up and then we'll go and surprise your Mumma."
Ingrid smiles softly at the words, closing her eyes when she hears your door click shut. She snuggles into the blankets and gives the image of sleeping peacefully when the bedroom door opens.
"Alright," She hears Mapi whisper to you," I'm going to put you down and you're going to show off your skills and crawl to Mumma, alright?"
Ingrid knows Mapi's words aren't really for your own benefit, not with you still being a little baby, but still, it's nice to hear Mapi speaking to you like you can understand her.
"Ready? Let's go, teeny!"
A small weight is placed at the foot of the bed, Ingrid can feel it on her legs, and then the movement begins.
You're gotten quite strong at your crawling, picking up speeds that are kind of amazing to watch when Ingrid can remember when you used to not be able to move by yourself at all.
Ingrid doesn't let you get too far, maybe to around her hips before she's sitting up and pulling you into her arms.
You giggle at the shock of it, little feet kicking out happily when she litters your cheeks with kisses.
"This is new," Ingrid says, fingers brushing over the fuzzy brown onesie that you're wearing.
"She's Rudolph!" Mapi replies excitedly," I saw it in a shop window last night and thought she'd look so cute! The nose squeaks!"
Experimentally, Ingrid squeezes the little red nose on the hood of your new outfit and, true to Mapi's words, it squeaks.
"You're so sweet, Mapi."
Ingrid guides you into the crook of one of her arms before extending the other one out for Mapi to tuck herself into.
"Merry Christmas," She says, pressing a kiss first to your head and then to Mapi's lips," This was a wonderful surprise. My own little Rudolph."
"I tried to get Bagheera in her matching jumper but she wasn't having it. I'll get her though, at some point."
"I'm fine with just one little Rudolph today," Ingrid assures her," Don't get all scratched up trying to force it."
Mapi chuckles, leaning more fully into Ingrid's arms as you suckle insistently on Ingrid's collarbone and reach out to pull and yank on Mapi's fingers, seeming intently focused on the tattoos.
"Too early to properly get up?" Mapi probes with a grin and Ingrid rolls her eyes.
"The sun's not even up yet," Ingrid replies with her own smile," You're not still tired?"
"Not even a little bit."
"And you think y/n's not tired either?"
Mapi raises a brow as she looks pointedly at you. She wiggles her fingers and you immediately stop sucking on Ingrid's collar to dive forward and try to capture her fingers in your mouth.
You're not quite successful but you put up a good fight, trying to clamber across Ingrid' body to grab at them.
"I think our little teeny is more than happy to be awake."
"Hmm," Ingrid says in thought," She'll crash before midday."
"I'll put her down for her nap."
"And if she's getting up in the evening?"
"I'll do the night shift."
Ingrid drags you back across her body and lifts you up easily as she gets out of bed.
"I'll get this one's bottle ready then. You can sort through the presents?"
"And get Bagheera in that jumper."
"Bag-Bag!" You babble happily and Mapi coos.
"See, Ingrid? She wants to see Bagheera in the jumper too!"
Mapi peels out of the room before Ingrid can respond and she sighs, shaking her head and lifting you up so you're dangling in her grip, little hand reaching out to try and grab her nose.
"You're both just so bad as each other," She laughs," Bagheera's going to need so many treats today after what you and Mapi put her through."
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calicocita · 2 days ago
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SUKUNA RYOMEN: ❝ NOT JEALOUS. ❞
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sukuna couldn't help the primal urge that overtook him every time he noticed another man looking at you.
no, looking wasn't the right word, eye fucking you, his perfect beautiful wife, right in front of him.
it happened more times than he could keep track of. at the mall when you dragged him along with you to run your little errands. at your job when he'd go to drop you off or pick you up. even at his job, he'd be forced to witness his own colleagues gawking at you with their jaws on the floor whenever you dropped by to see him at his office.
as if all of that wasn't enough to drive him feral, you were just completely oblivious to it. of course.
maybe that's why you didn't notice what he was doing at first. since you two started dating, ryomen would always touch you in public. like a lot.
you didn't suspect anything when he grabbed you by the waist wherever you went. or when he started holding your neck when you waited in lines, kissing your jaw and that soft spot behind your ear, which always made you giggle. or even when he kissed you so deeply and for so long—in the middle of the street in broad daylight—you had to take a moment to catch your breath.
it wasn't until things escalated that you started to wonder if there might be something behind his behavior.
it was at his office's christmas party, while he was making speech in front of all his colleagues about something you couldn't pay attention to, because while he rose one glass to the public with one hand, he simply slid his other hand down your back, squeezing your ass for everyone to see.
to say that you were pissed at him was an understatement.
you waited until you two got home to scream at his face about how incredibly inappropriate he had behaved.
"as if you didn't like it." sukuna teased, getting as close to you as you would allow him. "what? you want me to just stand there while those little shits eye fuck my wife in front of me?!"
"no one was eye fucking me, ryo—"
"c'mon, baby, be fucking for real with me, now." you let him get closer now, his large hands enveloping your waist. "you can't be that innocent." you tried looking away from him, but he grabbed you by your neck forcing you to face him. "do you really think there was even one man at that party who wasn't looking at you?"
"you're jealous?" you scoffed at him, and you immediately felt his grip tighten around your neck, making you involuntarily squirm under his touch.
"i am not jealous." sukuna snarled, tilting his head to the side, with a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "what i am is fucking pissed at all those fuckers lusting after my wife."
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multific · 2 days ago
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Of Pregnancy and Rome 
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Emperor Geta x Reader
Summary: Your pregnancy came as a little surprise to you but not to the people.
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The people of Rome adored their Empress.
So it came as no surprise to you when your pregnancy was announced, the people of Rome celebrated with you.
It warmed your heart to know that people liked you and supported you.
Your husband wasn't much different.
He lived to worship you.
And he did in many ways.
Your pregnancy at first was nothing but a wish, you wished for a child so you could make your husband happy.
You knew how he longed for an heir. For a son. 
An heir was not the reason why he married you. He adored you, being the daughter of a senator, Geta saw you almost every day, he would call it love, you would say obsession.
But he was nothing but kind to you, and you fell in love with him.
You two got married quickly.
And then it happened.
Your pregnancy was celebrated all over the Empire. 
People sent you gifts and you were proud.
And as your belly grew, so did the worries of your husband. 
The possibility of disloyalty of betrayal and treason. 
Even if people liked you, they didn't like him quite as much. Geta's biggest fear was that you would get hurt because of him. 
He forbid you from doing many things.
Leaving the palace was one. You must have a guard with you at all times.
You knew the limitations of your freedom were due to Geta's worries.
So, you tried your best to lessen his worries any moment you two spent together.
"My Love? Our child is moving." you said as you walked over to him sitting on the bed. You stood before him grabbed his hand and placed it where you felt the movement moments before. "Oh, he stopped." you said but his hand remained on your side.
Then you felt a very strong kick. It made Geta look up at you and you smiled.
"He's strong." you said as his eyes filled with adoration. 
"Is this what you always feel?"
"No, he is usually calm, and rarely kicks me."
"He must love you already just like I do. He doesn't wish to harm you." he then pulled on your robe and exposed your skin before he placed a long kiss on it. "And I love my son just as I love you, My Empress." you began to run your hand through Geta's hair.
You enjoyed these moments of silence and love.
Because during these times, he was able to forget his worries and only concentrate on one thing.
His love for you.
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Gladiator II Collection
Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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beanie-beebo · 2 hours ago
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When I had to go to the e.r this past summer, one of the attending nurses asked about my pronouns. My fawn response said what they were and said "you can use she/her if it's easier, it's okay. I know they're not exactly easy to remember or common."
She corrected me. She said it was whatever made me comfortable, since it was part of my identity/care. She asked my preferences.
The nurse then asked if it was okay if she asked more about my pronouns. Like what they meant and how to pronounce/use them properly.
I explained how I was nonbinary and the pronouns just fit (in brief explanation here, but it was a couple minutes of explaining).
She said she would do her best and I told her that if she tried, that was literally all that matters. It wasn't an exaggeration, I meant that. I know people aren't perfect and effort matters so much (maybe it's because of my trauma and people pleasing, who knows).
When she came back the last time that night with my dad in the room, she properly used my pronouns, only mispronouncing them and fumbling a bit as she tried to remember proper my pronouns. She apologized genuinely; I can't remember if I corrected her or not, but I profusely thanked her and had said her effort meant the absolute world to me.
I was discharged that night with tears in my eyes because no one has gone such lengths to remember (other than amazing online friends ♥), let alone a complete stranger.
It matters. Even if it isn't perfect. Please don't feel horrible if you screw up. We love/admire you SO much for even making space for us. I can't speak for everyone, but I'm so glad so many others feel the same and have similar experiences
I started a new remote job last week, and I'm the only genderqueer person at the company (and the first person who uses neo pronouns that anyone on my team has ever met, apparently).
So far:
Manager carefully wrote down spelling and pronunciation of my pronouns and told everyone on the team to respect them.
Coworker apologized privately for misgendering me (I hadn't told her yet) and said she will practice.
Guy on another team valiantly tried to use my pronouns and ended up saying something like zirzs-zhizz (I DM'd him and thanked him for trying and linked him to a practice site).
Teammate told me he has written out my pronouns and how to use them in a sentence and literally taped it to his monitor so he can practice.
Teammate also referred to me as compañere after I linked to a comic about gender-neutral endings in Spanish (whole team except me + 1 other person speaks Spanish as first language and they held all meetings in Spanish before the two of us started).
I am so stoked that people are actually trying. 💜🤍💚
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cressidagrey · 1 day ago
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Such A Mystery - Part 2
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 
Warnings: 
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry) 
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?
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Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
He had fallen like a ton of bricks for a dark-haired girl with doe eyes and the prettiest of smiles…and who also happened to be the twin sister of his biggest rival.
Colette Leclerc had been the first girl he had ever looked twice at and even 15 years later, that had never changed. Max was quite sure that it never would change either. It was her or nobody for him. 
Though he was very much aware that nobody had actually taken their relationship seriously for the first 5 years. Just a childhood crush turned into a teenage romance... But then slowly, their families had realised that it wasn't "just" anything.
He had moved to Monaco a day after his 18th birthday for her. To be as close to her as he possibly could. They had moved in together later that year. 
They had kept it quiet over the years... Family and friends knew but Max and Colette had never made it obvious enough for the press to pick up on.
 It had been Colette's request, not his.
Max would have liked to scream it from the rooftops. Would have liked everybody to know that Colette was his girlfriend, that he was the one that got to go home to her…that he was the one she loved. That they were blissfully happy together and had been for 15 years at this point. 
That she was carrying their child. 
Their baby.
It was a fucking miracle, that's what it was.
It had taken them a good six months to get pregnant the first time...nearly 2 years ago…between his race schedule and the insanity of the racing season...and then she had miscarried days after that first positive pregnancy test.
It has been heartbreaking. 
Of course, it had been...but they had thought that...maybe it was just a one-off…
The doctors hadn't been able to find anything wrong with her after all...
The second pregnancy resulted in another miscarriage less than a year later.
Another case of…Well, there is nothing wrong as far as we can tell. 
And then ..the third pregnancy...both Max and Colette had been a complete mess about it. 
Expecting the worst to happen at any minute. They had waited for the other shoe to drop. He had waited for there to be bleeding...for the baby not to make it...but then they had their first ultrasound and there had been a heartbeat.
Finally, after two devastating miscarriages, they had a positive ultrasound. A healthy heartbeat and a thriving baby growing in Colette’s belly.
It was a fucking miracle.
Even when the fact that Colette was due in January meant that he was gone for much of her pregnancy. Max hated being away from her during such a vulnerable and exciting time. 
He had tried though. Max had made sure to come home to Monaco as often as he could during the season, even if it was just for a quick visit, even when it was just for 24 hours at a time.
He was glued to his phone constantly, as soon as he had a free minute. The truly important people all knew about the baby and even GP let him go with a roll of his eyes when Max was once again absentmindedly checking his phone for another message from Colette.
At least, in a few days, he could be there for her. He would be there in January, and he wouldn’t miss the last month of pregnancy or the first precious few weeks with their baby…
There was a part of him that believed the baby would be a girl that would look just like Colette. Colette thought it was a boy. They had decided to be surprised. But regardless if it was a boy or a girl, Max just wanted the baby to be safe and healthy.
Max always called and video-chatted with Colette every evening. He was like an overly attached mother hen, constantly asking her how she felt, if she needed anything, and checking on the baby's progress.
So when her name was mentioned in conversation by two of his mechanics...he immediately perked up. 
They were in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season... and after the drama that had been the Qatar GP, that particular penalty and George Russell…Max was, quite frankly, done with the season. 
He just wanted to get home to Colette and their baby.
"I just really want to know what Colette Leclerc posted on Instagram," one of them said with a snort. "Whatever it was, it must have really gotten under Russell's skin."
What?
Colette's Instagram was set to private. She used it to comment under every single one of her brothers' posts and that pretty much was it. She did post pictures sometimes, to the less than 200 followers she actually had.
Why would a random mechanic even know about...
"Too bad it's set to private," the other responded with a sigh. "I would love to slide in her dms…she’s a beauty…"
He held back a snort at that. It was true. Max wholeheartedly agreed that Colette was beautiful. Simply lovely.  There was no one else who could compare to her in his eyes.
But there was also the fact that Colette had the habit of not even realising if a guy was flirting with her at all. Quite frankly, he wasn’t much better…it had always just been each other for both of them. 
But all of that didn’t answer the other question he had.  So he whipped out his phone again and then did what he really shouldn't do...namely check out the fan accounts. 
He got his answer then.
Gemma, one of the press officers, approached him with a grim expression, just at that moment. "Max," she said urgently, "There's something you need to know."
Max's anger was building as he spoke. "I already saw," he gritted out, his voice barely restrained. "George decided to be an ass.”
 Granted, "Karma is the guy in the car, coming straight home to me" probably had been rather pointed...because Max had indeed gotten Pole Position back in the first corner... So it had been Karma in a way. 
Still, for George to use Colette against Max...Colette, who kept quiet and out of the spotlight...who abhorred paparazzi...
Max was seething. George had crossed a line by bringing Colette into their rivalry. She was an innocent party in all of this, someone who always shied away from the spotlight. 
Max clenched his fists in anger, his jaw tightened as he forced himself to remain composed. He knew that lashing out at George would only give him what he wanted, but he couldn't help feeling protective of Colette.
Especially right now. The stress wasn't good for her and it wasn't good for the baby...He took a deep breath to calm himself down. He needed to keep his temper in check, even if it was difficult.
 He had to think about Colette and the baby. The last thing he wanted was to add more stress to her life.
Gemma's words were quiet, but they hit like a ton of bricks. "I would suggest you stay low right now," she advised. "I know it's completely out of line, but if you confront him about it, he could end up telling the press about you two. And that's not something you want..."
He knew how cruel the media could be, how they would tear apart every aspect of their relationship. Colette avoided the spotlight for a reason and he had promised her that he would never drag her into it either if it was at all possible. But the idea of George using her as a pawn in his games with Max...it was infuriating.
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chericos · 3 days ago
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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 ᝰ ⋆⁺₊❅.
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CHRISTMAS ACTIVITIES WITH THE JJK MEN!
you can definitely see my favorites...
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Satoru Gojo:
Satoru would try and take you moose-back riding: keyword try
he grew up being exceptional at everything, so he thought this would be no different
boy, was he wrong
you walked up to your moose calmly, hands held out for the massive creature to sniff—to gain its trust. It seemed to relax in your presence. with a few reassuring words and a couple of pats, it allowed you the honor of being able to climb onto its back with ease. meanwhile, the scene next to you was anything but graceful. gojo was struggling. a lot. "why is he looking at me like that?" "i think it wants to kill me," "why doesn't he like me..." he all but whined "maybe he can sense your charming personality," you teased. gojo spent the majority of his time whining about the audacity of the moose (that he picked out mind you). and when he was finally able to mount it, for a few gratifying seconds, the moose bucked wildly, sending him flying backward. you guide your own moose towards where he lies sprawled out in the snow, trying to contain your laughter. "totally planned for that to happen." "sure ya did honey," let's just say gojo never looked at a moose the same way again.
Suguru Geto:
Suguru was skeptical when you brought up the idea of Christmas baking.
you wanted to do something to keep the twins, mimiko, and nanako, entertained
"are you sure this isn't going to end in a mess?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in the kitchen doorway. "it's supposed to be messy, besides, they'll love it" mimiko and nanako were already perched up on the counter, smiling excitedly as they tried to get geto to join them, tugging on is sleeve and looking up at him with big puppy eyes. its no surprise that he gave in. mimiko was meticulous, carefully pressing cookie cutters into the dough with laser focus, while nanako was more chaotic, enthusiastically cutting out shapes in rapid succession—often forgetting to clean off the edges. geto couldn’t help but chuckle as he leaned over to help Nanako fix her crooked star cookie. “like this,” he said softly, guiding her hands. meanwhile, you were rolling out more dough when mimiko quietly came up to you. “can we make a heart one?” she asked shyly. You nodded, handing her the cutter. “of course, sweetie. maybe we can decorate it for suguru-nii later?" geto definitely overheard that. when it came time to decorate, the real chaos began. nanako somehow managed to get frosting everywhere—on her hands, her face, and even a streak across her cheek. “nanako, the frosting is for the cookies,” geto said with a sigh, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. mimiko, ever the perfectionist, took her time placing each sprinkle with care. “suguru-nii, look! I made a snowman!” she said, holding up her creation proudly. he smiled, brushing a hand over her hair. “It’s perfect, mimiko.” by the time you were done, the kitchen was a disaster. flour dusted the counters and the floor, and there was frosting on practically everything, including a streak in geto’s hair that he hadn’t noticed yet. (no one tell him) the girls were exhausted but happy, sitting at the table with mugs of warm milk and admiring their cookies. mimiko leaned against geto’s arm while nanako leaned against yours, both content and sleepy. geto glanced over at you, a soft smile on his face. “you were right, they loved it,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “told you,”
Kento Nanami:
tree picking with Kento was probably one of the most tedious tasks on the planet
you never expected him to be so serious about such a holiday, but you can't say you're surprised
nanami wasn't sure how he roped into picking out a Christmas tree with you, I mean, this wasn't exactly his idea of a relaxing afternoon. but with relentless begging and pleading on your end he found himself holding a saw in one hand while his other had his fingers laced between yours and secured in his coat pocket. "we should get this one" you gigglied while pointing towards a lopsided tree. "absolutely not." "but it adds character!" after what felt like hours of deliberation (and a lot of back and forth over the "symmetry of a tree") you finally settle on a tall, full tree, that met nanami's (ridiculous in your eyes) standards. decorating, however, was a different story. nanami was a perfectionist in every sense of the word. as he meticulously placed ornaments and adjusted the lights until everything was perfectly balanced. “It’s just a tree,” you teased as he redid the tinsel for the 3rd time. “It’s not ‘just a tree.’ It’s the centerpiece of Christmas,” he replied, dead serious. by the time the tree was finished, it was nothing short of a masterpiece. as you admired the warm glow of the lights, nanami handed you a cup of hot cocoa and let out a rare, contented sigh. “you were right,” he said softly. “It was worth the effort.” for the rest of the night, you caught him stealing glances at the tree, his lips curving into the faintest smile.
Ryomen Sukuna:
it took you 3 hours of incessant pestering for Ryomen to finally crack and join you on your holiday shopping trip
let's just say you end up regretting it.
sukuna couldn't care less about christmas. to him, it was nothing but an annoying excuse for humans to prance around in hideous sweaters and screech (sing) ridiculous songs to one another. so when you dragged him out to do christmas shopping, he made it his personal mission to ruin everyone else’s day. “why are we even here?” he grumbled as you wandered through aisles of ornaments and festive decorations. “because you need to get out more,” you replied, dodging his annoyed glare. but instead of helping, sukuna decided to make his own fun. anytime a kid got too close, he’d flash them a devilish grin, his sharp teeth on full display. “you better behave, or i’ll really give you something to cry about,” he said, voice low and menacing. cue the immediate screaming. “kuna!” you hissed, swatting his arm as the poor kid ran to their parents. “what? i thought this was the season for fear,” it got worse when he found an aisle with animatronic decorations (ok maybe this is just where I live but why is there still halloween decor out???). he’d activate the ones with creepy faces, making them jump-scare unsuspecting shoppers while he cackled in delight. “look at them! scrambling away like scared little mice,” he sneered, clearly having way too much fun. you, on the other hand, were mortified. “this is christmas, not halloween,” you groaned, dragging him away from the chaos he caused. but he just smirked, completely unbothered. “could’ve fooled me. everyone looks terrified.” by the time you finished shopping, the store staff was glaring at you, and sukuna looked smugger than ever. as you hauled your bags to the car, you gave him a pointed look. “you’re impossible.” note to self: never let him out to the general public.
Megumi Fushiguro:
megumi has been ice skating once in his life, at the age of 10
he fell flat on his ass and vowed to never touch the ice again
until you, that is
megumi still wasn’t sure how you convinced him to come ice skating. “it’s not like i’ll be good at it,” he grumbled, he was already mentally preparing for disaster. but somehow, here he was, lacing up skates while you beamed at him. a bright smile on your face as you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater (your favorite) and directed him towards the ice. the moment he stepped onto the ice, his legs wobbled like a newborn deer. he gripped the wall with a death grip, glaring at the ice as if it personally offended him. “this is stupid,” he muttered. you, ever the showoff, skated effortlessly back toward him, stopping with a little flourish. “you’re supposed to move, megumi, not cling to the wall,” you teased, holding out your hands. he stared at your hands, then at the ice, then back at your hands. “i’m going to fall,” he stated flatly. “probably,” you said with a shrug, “but that’s part of the fun!” begrudgingly, he let go of the wall and took your hands. his movements were stiff and awkward as you guided him across the ice. every slip and stumble made him scowl harder, his ears burning red from embarrassment. at one point, his balance gave out completely, and he went down with a thud. you tried not to laugh, but the way he just sat there, glaring and grumbling at the ice like it betrayed him, made it impossible. “go ahead. laugh,” he deadpanned. “i’m not laughing at you! just… near you,” you replied, wiping tears from your eyes before offering him a hand to get back up. he hesitated but eventually allowed you to help him. after a while, he found a rhythm—though he still refused to let go of your hand for long. by the end, he was still wobbly, still scowling, but there was a faint sense of satisfaction in his eyes. when you pointed it out, he rolled them and muttered, “it’s not like i enjoyed it.” he was a liar.
Yuji Itadori:
yuji was so excited to decorate gingerbread houses
at least, until the smell hit him
“this smells so good,” he said, already nibbling on one of the walls. “yuji, that’s supposed to be part of the house,” You watched as he sheepishly put it down… only to sneak a bite of a different piece when he thought you weren’t looking. you were. at first, he tried to stay focused. he squeezed out some frosting here, stuck a gumdrop to the roof there, and proudly showed it off like it was a masterpiece. but within minutes, you noticed the pile of gingerbread shrinking. at an abnormally fast rate. “yuji, for the love of—stop eating the house!” “i’m not!” he said, crumbs falling from his mouth as he tried to look innocent. “i’m just… quality checking.” "quality checking my—" by the time you finished your own gingerbread house, yuji’s was barely half built. instead of walls, there were just scattered crumbs and a single frosting-covered gummy bear left standing. it was a mess. “what happened to your house?” you asked, trying not to laugh. “it’s an abstract gingerbread house. very minimalist. also, i was hungry.” he shrugged, unapologetic. you couldn’t even be mad at him—especially when he offered you a piece of gingerbread with a sheepish grin. “want to split the roof? it’s the best part.”
Yuta Okkotsu:
it was a miracle that yuta was even in town for christmas
after a rough week-long mission you just wanted him to relax
yuta had just returned from a week-long mission, his exhaustion obvious in the way his eyes barely stayed open and the dark bags under them. his voice was hoarse from the travel and long days, and when he stepped into your place, he gave you a tired smile. “sorry, i’m late,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “it’s been a long week…” you didn’t mind, though. seeing him home was enough. “you’re not late,” you said softly, leading him to the couch. “how about we just spend christmas indoors? we can watch movies and… just relax.” his eyes flickered with relief at the idea. “sounds perfect,” he murmured, sinking into the couch beside you. you picked out a christmas movie to start, but the moment the opening credits rolled, you noticed his breathing slowing. yuta, still curled up in a blanket beside you, let out a soft sigh, his head leaning gently on your shoulder. as you ran your fingers through his hair, he gave a small hum of contentment. “you’re really tired, huh?” you asked quietly, looking down at him. “mm… a little,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “just need to rest for a bit… your hands feels nice…” the movie played on, but yuta didn’t even make it halfway through the first one. his body shifted, and soon, he was completely asleep, his head still resting on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling slowly in deep, peaceful breaths. you smiled softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair, the warmth of him against you making the entire room feel cozy. the movie continued, but no one was watching at this point. you pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead before whispering "welcome back, my love,"
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an; i was gonna add toge but when I got home and clicked on my drafts I never finished his part and I couldn't for the life of me remember what I was going to do or think of a new idea so... sorry!
hope you all had a wonderful holiday!
unedited!
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@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works
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alchemistc · 21 hours ago
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Let's goooo! 15. trembling hands
I already did this prompt but I've been steeping in a pile of blankets and a heating pad and miserable cramps for hours just thinking about this so:
"I just keep thinking about the last time you kissed me," Buck says, and he hates the waver in it, hates the way he has to set the neatly packed bankers box down on his island because his hands are shaking as bad as his voice.
Tommy gives him the kind of look he'd expect to see if he rounded a dark curve late at night and his headlights caught a deer crossing the road.
Total devastation lies ahead. Neither one of them gets out of this without a scratch.
He'd had a call, years back now. Some family driving home after an evening of movies and arcades and dinner, a nice newer SUV, a nervous creature who would have had plenty of time to cross into the woods but got stuck in the beam of light hurtling towards it. Until it tried to jump the vehicle right before impact.
The dad had died quick, Buck remembers. They'd only found that out later, though, because the deer hadn't died. Not then. Not right away. Not until after they'd arrived, because they'd watch the thing, stuck in the windscreen, panicked and dying and kicking.
Animal control didn't make it on scene until after the moms chest had been caved in.
Tommy's grip on the box in his own hands looks painful.
"It was just - it was the kind of kiss I figured we'd share a few thousand more times, you know?"
Nothing special, a barely there peck, an appetizer because they had places to be and they'd lost more than one reservation getting caught up before so they'd made it a habit of the greeting kiss being... quick.
"I just wish I'd known it was gonna be the last time."
It hurts to say. It hurts to think, but this one's been spinning on a loop every time he's got idle hands and an idle mind and it feels like Tommy should at least know that he -
"I have to go," Tommy says. He'd set this up with that excuse - I have some of your things, can I drop them off before work - like he could rip the bandaid and be done and Buck had spent twenty minutes folding and refolding the same pair of Tommy's sweatpants before he found the nerve to respond with a thumbs up.
"Yeah," Buck says, and takes a moment to drink in the sight of him a final time. Tommy's eyes dart to the hand still hanging at his side, fingers tapping out a rhythm against his palm, unlike the one holding onto his kitchen island like a lifeline.
This is it.
There's - nothing left to tie them together. No excuses to see each other again outside of random happenstance. He'd debated stuffing one of Tommy's zip ups into the bottom of his laundry basket for about ten minutes after Tommy let him know he was headed over, but that's in the box with everything else.
He has to look away when he realizes his vision's gone a little blurry.
"I'll... see you," Buck manages, and convinces himself he doesn't hear the blown out breath from where Tommy's standing.
He listens to the footsteps moving away. Hears the latch click and sucks in a breath so harsh Tommy has to hear it.
He remembers trying to shield those kids in the back seat from the sight of both their parents and wishes he at least had some bruises to show for the way his own chest feels like it's caving in.
The door clicks shut, and Buck turns towards it a second before he feels his chin being angled.
It's nothing like their first kiss, or the greeting kiss. This is the kiss he'd get when he couldn't shut the hell up about something and Tommy had to do something about it. The kiss they'd share when it became clear a movie wasn't holding his attention and Tommy pressed him into the couch cushions with a grin. The kiss he'd give when he was so overwhelmed by how he felt and didn't have the words to explain it so he'd poured every ounce of - of love into his lips and his tongue and his teeth because even if he didn't know how to say it he wanted Tommy to know.
It slows and settles into something soft and breathy and Buck lets the hand he'd curled over Tommy's jaw drop to his chest when they break it. Their breathing is shaky, and the hand clenched in the back of Buck's shirt shakes before he breaks the hold. Buck keeps his eyes closed. His throat is tight.
"That's - if I'd known it was the last one, that's the one I'd have wanted it to be," Tommy says, and then he's pulling away. Leaving.
The door clicks open and shut while Buck's eyes are still closed, and he stands there in silence for a good ten minutes until he's sure he can breath again. When he licks his lips he doesn't recognize the taste of the lip balm Tommy'd left behind there.
The box of Tommy's stuff is sitting on the end table.
It takes Buck four goddamn tries to type out a coherent text, with the way it's shaking in his hand.
You forgot to take your stuff, he sends.
Tommy's the kind of old school where he keeps his phone in the center console while he's driving, so he doesn't expect anything back immediately.
He refuses to let himself read into it at all. An honest mistake after leaving them both more hurt than the first time around.
He'll ask Chim to deliver it so they don't have to see each other again.
Forty-two minutes later, he happens to glance at his phone just in time to see the bubbles.
They disappear. Reappear. Disappear.
How forgetful of me.
And that's - that's all he gets for another five minutes. He nearly tosses his phone in the air when the bubbles come back, like somehow someone will have witnessed him staring at it hard enough to burn a hole through it.
Maybe you could bring it by sometime.
MVA, two adult males, significant internal injuries.
The bubbles are still there.
Think I may have forgotten a few of your things, anyway.
Buck doesn't believe that for a fucking second. He'd had a drawer, two hangers, a spot under the sink in the bathroom. Tommy's place had always reminded Buck how well suited they were, with how meticulously everything had a place.
Doesn't seem like you, Buck shoots back, and tries not to examine how close to the line of flirty he's being.
That was a terrible last kiss, Tommy sends back, almost immediately.
Buck's hands don't shake when he sends the next message. It's a blatant lie. It probably broke top ten. We could fix that.
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rohirric-hunter · 3 days ago
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I had always assumed that Father Christmas was an interdimensional entity, IE he was the same person as the Father Christmas from our world. He just also goes to any and all other worlds where Christmas is celebrated.
I don't have a copy of the book to hand so I can't really examine the text for a reason why I assumed this. Perhaps just the above-explored lack of a reason for Narnia to have its own separate version, or maybe little kid confusion about the difference between the country of Narnia and the world it exists in, also sometimes colloquially referred to as Narnia.
Also re: Jadis' jacked up border patrol: we kind of do literally see this with Tumnus trapping Lucy. Clearly the Witch had a lot of people on her payroll who responded to the presence of humans by attempting to trap or kill them -- there was likely a massive bounty for any captured or dead human and enough people desperate enough to cash in on it, so lone humans or small groups would never have made it very far. As to the possibility of Archenland invading and driving Jadis out by force, well, first of all we don’t know that it was never tried, but I imagine that if it was it was tried earlier during the hundred years of winter, rather than later, and most likely wasn't successful. We see in The Horse and His Boy that Archenland's military, while probably effective enough for the defense of their own in most cases, is pretty basic and seems to have little to no magic support. Certainly not the sort of military that would be able to make any meaningful headway against the Witch and all her magical minions and ability to turn people to stone. And without Aslan to rallh around they couldn't depend on enough help from the native Narnians to make a difference, not to speak of Aslan's ability to restore people who had been turned to stone, a group which probably encompassed the vast majority of Narnians willing and able to fight back against Jadis.
(Also circling back around to the Father Christmas thing I also headcanoned as a kid that the way Jadis kept it always winter was a sort of time-freezing spell. IE instead of just making it always snow, she was freezing time itself during the winter. It's always winter but it never gets to be Christmas because it was just. Always the same miserable cold day after the start of winter but before Christmas. And Father Christmas couldn't get in because it wasn't the proper time. My reason for headcanoning this was specifically because of all the plants that would have gone extinct in Narnia during a hundred year winter. Hibernation is amazing but it don't work miracles. But, if from the plants' point of view it was only one winter, well that makes a lot more sense. However this could also be explained by Aslan's proximity, given that he does also just kind of summon plants from nothing during Magician's Nephew. Or even, just, like, the existence of dryads. IDK.)
narnia has actually way too many completely devastating concepts in it that are not explored At All
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allpiesforourown · 1 day ago
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I'm sorry but omega harem member Shen Yuan AU now has me in a choke hold-
Like,
Binghe is trying to find the perfect way to seduce Shen Yuan, because god knows he needs a miracle to unfuck up his entire 'I don't care for you, its just political' situation
Universe does its thing and sends a wife plot, Shen Yuan gets poisoned with some fuck or die plant when helping one of the wives meet with their family in a very dangerous section of the demon realm.
Binghe hears about his omegas poisoning and jumps at the chance to finally get closer to his A-Yuan. this! This is familiar to him, he's saved his wives from all kinds of poisons and aphrodisiac fueled heats before, he'd fuck him so good and show how great of an alpha he could be to him.
Only when he makes it there, Shen Yuans already been serviced by his bodyguard Liu Qingge. (its LITERALLY his job to save and service this omega, of course he fucked the poison out of him)
Turns out the news had reached Binghe far too late to be put to any use, partly do to Shen Yuan begging the wife he had been helping when he was poisoned to not bother Binghe with it. He just doesn't want to force Binghe to take care of him! (Binghe had just gotten back with a new wife too! Imagine how pissed he'd be if he interrupted them!)
The wife takes Shen Yuans insistence and worry as him being terrified of Binghe so of course she couldn't bring herself to tell the demon emperor (as should have been protocol). And if she actively helped hide his condition then it wasn't like anyone would rat her out for it, at least not after she told them how scared Shen Yuan had been of his Alpha husband. (Cue them believing that Shen Yuans wedding night must have been traumatising or something) rumors only spiral when an omega will take dealing with a deadly poison over fucking their literal husband.
So by the time the news reached Binghe it had already been a day. Bonus points if he walks in on Liu Qingge still inside his husband who's completely out of it from being throughly ravished for 12+ hours on and off to get the poison completely out of his system.
The stand off would be prime tea for the harem but absolutely terrifying to anyone who actually witnessed it. Binghe seething as his temper flairs to record levels.
"under what authority did you decide you could take such advances with MY omega."
"It's my job."
"No. its Mine."
"I was told you wouldn't be here"
"Well clearly I'm here now."
"Now is too late. he'd have been dead by now."
"...What?"
"He was poisoned yesterday. He'd have been dead by now."
And Liu Qingge isn't even being judgemental, I mean why would he be, this is a part of his job and a very enjoyable one at that. But Binghe is crumbling mentally as he tries to piece together how things went so wrong: Why wasn't he informed immediately? How had this been kept from him? Was someone trying to kill Shen Yuan? And now he wonders HOW exactly had his omega gotten poisoned?
The impulsive thoughts come too, he wants this bodyguard fired. But if he fired the man who saved his omega now, it would only seem like he'd wanted Shen Yuan dead.
An even uglier, more desperate part of him wanted to purposefully poison Shen Yuan with a poison only HE could cure, to have Shen Yuan need him.
POISONING YOUR HUSBAND AS FOREPLAY .... God I love binggeyuan and liushen, just the most emotionally dense people imaginable falling for each other
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cherrixpie · 2 days ago
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HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN
part five of five (and 1/2 🤫)
↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. after your failed attempt, wounds need mending and your brother a slap on the wrist.
↬ sfw; hurt/comfort; wc: 5.6k; cw: suggestive, self-deprecating thoughts; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader
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The courtyard was silent except for the whisper of the wind rustling through the tree branches. The faint moonlight casted long, skeletal shadows across the stone. If Filch turned up now, you didn't think you’d have it in you to even hide. You sat hunched over on a cold stone bench, arms wrapped tightly around yourself against the cool night air. The tears finally slowed, leaving your face damp and your chest aching.
The weight of your brother's words still clung to you like nasty glue, tenacious and heavy, each accusation replaying in your mind over and over again, like a taunt. You weren't naive. You were capable of thinking and deciding for yourself. Or were you? You think he cares about you? you heard Harry's voice echo in your mind. But of course he did. Pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin onto your knees, you rocked slightly in an effort to calm yourself. Theo liked you. It wasn't impossible. There was something lovable about you, there had to be.
You’d have never doubted Theo, but you began to doubt yourself. Had you been deceiving him into thinking you were desirable by being Harry's sister? There is more to you than just that, a tiny advocate for yourself tried to argue, but the devil on your shoulder shut him up. Was there any other explanation for Theo to be interested in you, than that he saw something in you that you weren't? Frustrated by yourself, you wiped at your cheeks, but fresh tears started to spill and you buried your face in your hands, bundled up against the cold.
Of course Theo liked you. But Harry's words elicited thoughts of doubt in you, a doubt you’d always had and was hard to quell, a doubt that Theo had almost dispersed but now hit you with full force. You weren’t sure if you were angrier at Harry for saying them or at yourself for letting them get to you. Not that he had meant it like that. Harry would never suggest you weren't good enough for Theo, he’d have it the other way around. That Theo had deceived you, tricked you, used you. As if he were the only one with a mind, as if you were a child.
The chill seeped through your robes, but you didn't move, staring at the ground where your tears had dotted the frost-covered cobblestones. The quiet should have been comforting, but instead, it only made you feel smaller, like the world itself had chosen to remind you just how much you didn't belong- not here, not with Theo, not anywhere. You looked anywhere but at the courtyard entrance, maybe because an unconscious part of your mind knew that somebody would come eventually. And that somebody was Theo.
Theo didn't hate much. That may surprise some, but he found disdain to be much more civil and controlled, and therefore elegant. Outright hate was something uncontrollable, overwhelming the most conscious of human spirits with a rage far beyond what they could grasp or deal with. It was the same with violence. Theo preferred measured, unemotional violence before the messy raging of the likes of Mattheo. But Theo couldn't deny it as he watched your lone figure, curled up on the stone bench. He hated to see you cry, and he wanted to inflict as much pain as possible onto your brother.
But he couldn't hurt your brother (seriously), you’d be upset. And he couldn't walk over to you to still your tears, because his feet seemed to be glued to the ground. Even from afar, he could hear your sniffling, it was carried to him like a secret by the cool night breeze. Shaking like a leaf, you seemed to hide your face in your hands. Something intense stirred in his chest, seized his insides in a hard grip. He should've been more vigilant, he should've ensured you could reveal the secret in your own terms. He should've looked out for his girl, and he’d failed.
“Theo?”
Your soft voice penetrated the cloudy mist of self loathing that had consumed his thoughts. A small light, an irrestible pull. Theo raised his head from the cobblestones to you. Still sitting on the bench, you had untangled your limbs and taken your face out of your hands. Your glossy eyes reflected the moonlight, it illuminated the trail your tears had left on your cheeks and again, a wave of emotion was stilled by impotence.
Your brows furrowed doubtfully and Theo considered how he must look on the outside, to you. Stone faced, jaw clenched, straight as an arrow, tense. It wasn't an easy feat to soften his features when the raging desire to kill your brother, his worry and his self-reproach battled for stewardship. Shamefully, he had to admit to the urge to flee he felt, from you, from what you brought forth in him, made him feel. He wasn't cut out for this.
You could sense Theo’s hesitance and immediately felt self-conscious. But before you could decide how to approach him, he pushed himself off the pillar he’d been leaning on and walked towards your bench. You watched his steps carefully. There was something mesmerizing about watching Theo walk. Maybe it was the elegance of his steps, the way he always seemed to know where to go and approached his target without hesitation. Theo would not be caught slouching or walking aimlessly. Right now, you seemed to be the aim, which calmed you a bit.
Your eyes got captured by the reflection of the moonlight on the cobblestone, or maybe you were just avoiding his knowing eyes, as he sat down next to you and left a few inches of space for you, though that meant he was pressed into the corner of the bench, sitting on its edge awkwardly. Burying your fingers in your thighs, you inhaled an intake of breath to apologize, but- “Forgive me, tesoro,” Theo's voice sounded quietly through the silence of the courtyard.
You turned to him, surprised. “Forgive you? What would you have to ask forgiveness for? I’m the one who was reckless and it's because of me Harry said all those awful things about you and then I left you standing there-” you rambled on and wrung your hands desperately. Tears stung in the corners of your eyes but you pushed them down, you didn't want to worry him, you’d already done enough.
Theo couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that you were the one apologizing, that you blamed yourself about what your brother had accused him off. How much you cared about him, that this had been troubling you. A thousand replies, arguments, explanations bombarded his tongue, but he commanded it to silence to sort them. Because he had to make sure you didn't blame yourself- and that you believed him in his love for you.
He moved his arms slowly and deliberately, to give you the chance to back away, shrug them off or ignore them. Instead, you recognized them and threw yourself into his hold, hiding your face in his chest. With a new add of displeasure, Theo noted that your hands and face were ice cold. No wonder you were shivering. “Don't you dare be sorry,” Theo told you, but all harshness had left him as he held your shivering figure. “Don't you dare apologize to me. I couldn't care less what your brother,” he couldn't help the malice in his tone when he mentioned him, “thinks of me. But you do.”
When you raised your head from his chest to protest, you didn't care what Harry thought about Theo, Theo cupped it tenderly. Though he didn't wear a smile, it was as if his hard features had melted and he looked at you with the utmost gentleness. “He’s your brother. And anyways, that wasn't really what I meant.” His thumb brushed over your cold cheek and wiped at the remains of frozen tears. “You care what he thinks about you. But he was wrong.”
“That's what I tell myself,” you laughed dryly, leaning into his touch. Theo loosened his coat and wrapped it around you as he pulled you closer, listening to you intently. “I want to believe that I am lovable or interesting or desirable, but after what he said…” Your voice grew quiet, this was something only Theo could be trusted with, vulnerable words exchanged under the cover of his coat. “I can't come up with a single reason why you would want me.”
“Because there is no single reason,” Theo answered softly as he inspected his coat to make sure you were covered completely. “Or rather, there is such a multitude of reasons you'd have to give me a while to write them down, if you were being fair. Or maybe there isn't one at all. I’m not with you for a specific reason or a specific aspect of you. I want you because of you and everything that entails.”
You could follow his line of thought, but the mean little voice acquitted the abstraction of his words to a lie. “You speak in tongues,” you chuckled sadly and felt him sigh. “Tesoro, is it that inconceivable to you that I could love you?”
“Yes,” you said promptly, for one because it was true, but also because Theo’s dropping of the l-bomb had momentarily stunned you.
“I’ll just have to reiterate then,” Theo said and made you look at him. “Again and again and again until you believe me.” When you continued to look unconvinced, he clenched his teeth in frustration. How on earth was he supposed to convince someone as stubborn as you? In what ways could he comfort you, make you believe him when he told you how much he appreciated you?
“Do you know what tesoro means?” Theo asked and you were hit with the sudden realization that you didn't. In the beginning, before your relationship started, you had been convinced that it was a teasing insult he could dangle over your head, that you couldn't understand. But you’d never asked.
When you shook your head in response, Theo gave you the smallest of smiles, the best he could muster. “It means ‘treasure'. You are so precious to me, tesoro,” he said in a lowered voice as he kissed up the side of your face. “I wouldn't trade you for the world. I want you to let me love you, I want to crush anyone who hurts you.”
Laying in his arms breathlessly, you tried to think of a response, but his wit with words had disarmed you. All you could do was hold onto him, sneak your icy hands under his shirts and draw small patterns there in an attempt to convey your response. Finally, some of the mist faded and you were able to grasp a rational thought. “What do I do now?”
“Hm, I don't know,” Theo answered, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice. You squinted your eyes up at him. “You aren't being a help,” you lied and he crooked his head knowingly before he got serious once more. “It's up to you what to do, tesoro. Whatever you choose to do, it's valid.”
“What if I blow up the astronomy tower?” you joked in an attempt to downplay how touched you were by his trust, by his respect and esteem for you that you had found questioned before a sea of onlookers half an hour prior. “Still valid,” Theo decided and pursed his lips, making you giggle irrationally. He seemed to take it as a sign of tiredness and took his cloak from you despite your protests. “Let's get you up into bed, tesoro.”
“I don't want to,” you muttered darkly. “They’ll all know what happened by now, and I don't want to run into Harry.”
“We could go back to my dorm,” Theo said openly as he took your hands and placed them in his pockets to protect them against the frosty wind. “But my dorm mates can be a bit trampy, and they are no nice sight to wake up to. Plus, they’ll be frustrated by the lost match, I don't know whether the option is more pleasant.”
But something had just dawned on you, an idea so brilliant you were surprised by yourself. “I know where we can go.” Without questioning your use of ‘we’, Theo locked your fingers with his. “Lead the way, then.”
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You half expected Filch to turn up every time you crossed a corner, or to stumble upon Mrs Norris, which would be equally as unfortunate. But your way up to the fifth floor remained miraculously free of cats and caretakers. When you flung around a corner, Theo hot on your heels, you suddenly felt a tug on your hand as he slowed down. Before you could turn around to ask what was wrong, you felt his breath close to your ear. “I know where you’re taking me, tesoro.”
You didn't doubt that for a second, what with all his mountains of knowledge, it was hard to come across something Theo didn't know. “Why didn't you think of it, then?” you asked and kept walking. If you remembered right from your fifth year, it had to be somewhere around here, maybe in the next corridor…
“I tend to use that room for … other purposes,” his tone of voice, the little smirk adorning his lips and the subtle mirth in his eyes left no doubt for the nature of those purposes. Stupidly, you felt your cheeks heat up and tried to avert your face, doing your very best to hide your blush. Though Theo’s barely concealed chuckle had you realize the pointlessness of that endeavor.
When you pushed open the doors of the room of requirement, you were, unsurprisingly, treated to a welcoming sight. The room was warm and several fireplaces along its walls gave it a homely feeling. In fact, it reminded you of the Griffindor tower a little. Just that the cushions and couches had been replaced by a large, king sized four poster in the middle of the room, its curtains swaying softly in the nonexistent breeze. “Nice,” Theo complimented and you smiled to yourself. “You think so?”
Now, alone with Theo, hands brushing, voices whispering without any reason, you felt much calmer. You parted from him to step further into the room and reached the bed, sitting down on it. A surprised sigh left your lips when you practically sunk in the soft sheets and you fell back onto your back. As you blinked up at the high ceiling, Theo's face came into view. He, too, looked a lot more relaxed, had his hands in his pockets and looked down on you with a teasing smile. “So… there seems to be only one bed in your ideal room for us.”
You frowned. “If you want your own bed, I'm sure the room will provide it.” Theo hummed and looked around as if he were looking for it. “Strange, it doesn't. Seems like I don't want my own bed after all.”
You scooted aside to make space for him and he settled down on the mattress with far more elegance than you. Theo hoisted his long legs onto the bed, slipped off his shoes and pulled you closer with one arm. With a tired sigh, you settled against his warm chest and his fingers drew circles on the skin beneath your shirt. You, too, took off your shoes without bothering to remove any other piece of clothing. When you took his hand, you heard an intake of breath from Theo, as if he had wanted to say something that didn't make it past his lips.
Angling your head upwards, you found him already looking at you. “Thank you,” he said, and it sounded more grave, more intimate than his apology and declaration of love had. Theo didn't thank people very often, you realized. “For what?” you whispered, not daring to raise your voice against the silence that seemed to lay its protective cloak over the two of you. “You defended me,” Theo said mutedly, still drawing tender patterns onto your skin. “In front of all those people. Against your brother.”
“Ah, well,” you shrugged and smiled. “That was nothing. Theo?” “Hm?” It was your turn to cup his face gently. “You deserve to be stood up for.” You frowned at the sarcastic twitch around his mouth, but the smile he gave you was genuine. “I don't deserve you, tesoro. Come oso mettere le mani su qualcosa di così puro?”
“You deserve the world, Theo,” you said fiercely and sat up, fisting his shirt in your hands. Your heart was thrumming as you prepared the words, tried them on your tongue silently, and finally, they slipped past your lips. With a heavy accent, no doubt, and a shaky voice. “Ti amo, Theo.”
His eyes widened subtly. A movement rippled through his whole body, you could barely comprehend it when he pulled you onto his lap and shot up, lips clashing into yours in one fluid motion. His lips beckoned yours into a sensual dance as he whispered into your mouth: “Anch'io ti amo, tesoro.” When you whimpered against his lips, Theo surged forward and flipped you onto your back.
All your thoughts were consumed by him, him, him. The caress of his lips, the touch of his hands that ran up and down your body, the sound of his voice as he whispered foreign phrases of Italian into your ear. If he didn't feel so real and warm under your fingertips, you'd have thought him a vivid daydream. Each and every touch seemed to push you, you with you, lead you to a predetermined end he'd already set for you. His fingertips and lips ignited a fire inside of you that burned through every last bit of self control and you moaned helplessly against him, eliciting a chuckle from Theo .
When you ran out of breath, you broke free from him and looked into his impossibly blue eyes. They were brimming with tenderness, raking over your figure, taking in your disheveled hair, heaving chest and hazy eyes. “You look tired.”
Theo manouvered you back onto your back and pulled the blankets over the two of you. Snuggling against him, your fingertips brushed over your kiss-bitten lips in silent memory. Only Theo's voice could pull you out of your daydreams. “You should get some sleep.” Nodding, you closed your eyes and allowed your body to relax against his. Only one thing was still bugging you. “Theo?”
“Hm?”
“Promise me you won't hurt Harry,” you said as sternly as you could manage in your half sleeping state. A silence followed, during which you almost dozed off, but Theo’s voice sounded through the deafening tiredness that weighed your lids down. “If you insist.”
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By breakfast the next morning, somehow, half the school knew what had happened the last night. And when noon rolled around, it was the whole student body. Hermoine had stayed up late last night, in the hopes of talking to you when you came back to your dorm, but you hadn't, and hadn't been in your bed when she had woken up either. Hermoine only managed to catch a glimpse of you when you hurriedly left the Griffindor table at breakfast upon their arrival, and you seemed to have spend the forenoon avoiding them with the assistance of Fred’s and George’s magic sweets.
Harry had been in a particularly foul mood all morning, staring gloomily and snapping at her and Ron any chance he got. Though Hermoine caught his unmistakably worried look when you called in sick and flew from the Griffindor table. Her irritation had grown worse as well, as she was subjected to Harry’s short temper, and reached its peak at dinner time when the three of them were on their way to the Great Hall and Harry raised his voice at her for something so minor it was ridiculous.
“Harry, we need to talk,” she said sternly and halted her steps. The two boys turned to her reluctantly, Harry looked exasperated, Ron cast worried glances at him. “What, Hermoine?” Harry asked sharply and she crossed her arms. “There is no reason to use that tone with me. We need to talk about last night. You clearly feel bad for what happened-”
“I couldn't care less,” Harry pressed through clenched teeth, but none of them took the chance to revel in the irony. “And I wasn't the one who betrayed the family-”
“Are you sure?” Hermoine interrupted him. “She is your only family, and you made her cry.”
Harry snorted. “Me? It's all that bloke Nott’s fault! And she's to blind to see that he's just using her!” He stormed off, but Hermoine caught up with him, unwilling to let the topic go. Ron, on the other hand, looked as uncomfortable as if he was following two acromantulae instead of his best friends.
“Look,” Hermoine tried the diplomatical approach, slightly out of breath. “I don't like Nott either, but other than her, I've never exchanged a single word with him. And neither have you.”
“Yeah, he's super quiet,” Ron chimed in, “He's weird that one, he's got something to hide for sure. What if he's a death eater, too?”
“She doesn't know what she's getting herself into with him,” Harry retorted hotly, skipping Ron's comment.
“What makes you think that?” Hermoine asked angrily. A surprised gasp left Harry's throat when she grabbed his robes and brought him to a halt. “Why don't you trust her? I get that you’re worried, but she's not a child, and honestly, she's far more reflecting than you are being right now. I would trust her to read someone over you, Harry, because she's smart and she could hold her own. And you know she's struggling with self esteem and still, you said these horrible things to her. You look more like an asshole than Nott right now!”
Hermoine's chest rose and fell rapidly and Harry seemed dumbfounded for a second. A second Ron used to attempt to diffuse the heated situation. “Look, neither of us likes Nott, but we all like her. How about we just find her, you apologize, Harry, and we reconcile. And Nott is a topic for tomorrow.”
Hermoine read in Harry's face that he knew Ron was right, but she also knew that your stubbornness was only rivaled by your brother’s. “I just want to protect her, Hermoine.”
“You have a funny way of showing that, Potter.”
All three of them spun around so fast their bags knocked against each other. Leaning against a tapestry a few feet from them was Theodore Nott, in the flesh, hands in his pockets, a picture of dangerous calm. His piercing eyes were fixed on Harry, and though his features were as unreadable as ever, the line of his jaw was unnaturally sharp, revealing his tension.
“What are you doing here?” Ron asked aggressively, stepping in front of Harry. When Nott let his gaze wander over him, he flushed slightly but didn't back down. Hermoine felt herself tense up. Though you never knew with him, the look in Nott's eyes was unmistakable, and she reached for her wand under her robes, just to feel less helpless.
“I’m not here to fight you, so you can put that away, Granger,” he said, without looking at her. Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to stand up for her, but Hermoine stepped on his foot to silence him before he could utter a word. Unbothered by Ron’s glare and Harry’s drawn wand, Nott returned his cool stare to Harry. “Your sister made me promise not to hurt you, so I won't. But you will apologize to her.” His tone left no room for doubt what would happen if his demands weren't met.
When neither of the three replied, Theo pushed himself off the wall. Somehow, he was even taller than Ron, who planted himself in front of the other two protectively. “Did you hear, Potter?” he asked softly, his tone indicated that he greatly enjoyed the effect he had. “You will apologize. You will take everything back. You will let her make the calls. And if she tells you to shut it and go away, you will. Though I figure you, too, know that she is far too kind for that. And if you don’t, you will be on the receiving end of my wrath.”
“You'd break your promise, huh?” Harry snarled and Hermoine could have punched him. “You act so high and mighty, as if you cared about her, but in the end, you would go over her head just like that.”
Notts eyes glinted dangerously and his voice grew even softer, if that was even possible. “Other than you maladroit Griffindor lot, I have ways of getting my retaliation other than hurting you, Potter.”
“Are you including my sister in that ‘maladroit Griffindor lot’?” Harry hissed and Theo raised his brow. “No. She's the exception.” There was a few seconds of silence, during which Theo and Harry glared at each other and Ron and Hermoine exchanged nervous glances.
Finally, Nott took another step forward. He seemed to attempt a less hostile tone, but didn't quite succeed. “She means a lot to me. Her happiness means a lot to me. And you will not stand in the way of it. I want this … arrangement to work for her, so I ask you,” the last part seemed to strain him, “to tolerate me, as I will tolerate you.”
“If you’re trying to get me to accept you-” Harry began, incensed, but Theo cut him off. “I'm not asking for your acceptance, Potter, I ask you to respect your sister and her decision and not throw a hissy fit because she gets her own life instead of running around fixing yours.” The short term diplomacy had vanished and he let out an exasperated sigh, rummaging in his robes for a pack of cigarettes.
As much as Hermoine held an aversion to him and his friends, she couldn't deny that he had a point. Harry couldn't either, she saw it in his face, the way he gripped his wand but let it slip back under his robes. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed off. Ron waited a few tactful seconds before following him, but Hermoine remained, casting nervous glances at the Slytherin. When Nott looked up from lighting his cigarette, he raised his brow at her still standing there.
“Do you really like her?” she asked, testing his reaction. His fingers holding the cigarette twitched as he lifted them to his mouth once more. If Filch caught him smoking in the halls, he’d earn himself a punishment even he couldn't buy himself out of. Maybe this afflicted him more than he let on, if he risked his polished record so carelessly.
“Yes,” he said simply, but his tone was grave and intense. His eyes bored into her skull, it seemed, and Hermoine wondered wether he could do legilimency. She nodded in thought. Hermoine couldn't help but believe him, though she still didn't like him. But one thing she knew.
“She likes you too,” Hermoine replied and there was a subtle twitch in his brows. “She's been happier lately. Absent and secretive, but she seems to be doing better than ever. Well, you two have my blessing, is what I just wanted to say. If that means anything.” A little embarrassed, she turned to go but stopped when he called out to her.
“It does.” When he saw the surprised look on her face, Nott waved with his cigarette. “It means something to her. So, thank you.” Nodding, Hermoine turned her back on him and walked up the corridor, replaying the conversation in her mind. Madness, she thought, shaking her head. Theodore Nott thanking someone, thanking her. Unbelievable.
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You had made sure to hide in the room of requirement until fifteen minutes before curfew, when you hurried up to Griffindor tower. Per your estimation, the common room would be fairly empty, since it was a weekday, and your dorm mates would be sleeping if you waited out midnight by the fire. When you slipped through the portrait hole, you found the common room deserted and breathed a sigh of relief. Your favorite armchair by the fire was free and you sank into the cushion with a satisfied exhale.
“Can we talk?”
Just as quickly as you had fallen into the armchair, you jumped up from it. Your eyes found a lone figure near the steps to the boy’s dormitories. Harry’s hair was even more disheveled as usual and he looked tired, but he hadn't changed into his pyjamas yet. So he had been waiting for you.
Even though you were not keen on another lecture, you didn't want to affront him when he wasn't yelling at you anymore. So you nodded and sat back down, pulling your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your kneecaps to stare into the flickering flames. You heard Harry shuffle closer and saw him plopp down on the couch next to you out of your peripheral vision. He, too, seemed to have directed his eyes to the fire.
“I … ran into Nott earlier,” he said and you did a double take. “How are you still in one piece?” Harry gave you a deadpan look that you would've laughed about, if you had felt like laughing. “According to him, you made him promise not to hex me.”
“Right,” you said, remembering if vaguely, and leaned back into the cushion. “How did it go?” you asked shyly, drawing hope from the fact that Harry seemed unharmed. “He was … direct,” Harry said with pursed lips and you couldn't suppress the light chuckle that fell from your lips. “He tends to be. When it suits him.”
“Make sure you tell him I apologized,” Harry mumbled, giving you a tentative look. “Or he might take my head off.”
“You didn't,” you said firmly, feeling a pang of guilt when Harry looked up. The look in his eyes reminded you of when he was younger. “You didn't apologize yet,” you explained and Harry shifted, visibly uncomfortable. “Right.” With a long sigh, he ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have called you naive, or stupid, or delusional.” “It hurt me,” you clarified and hugged your legs tighter to your chest. “Made me feel like I'm not even my own person. And you knew it would hurt me.”
“Yes,” Harry admitted and you could hear his regret laced into every syllable. “I wanted to hurt Nott, but I only hurt you. I overreacted a bit, I admit that. But-” “No buts,” you cut him off, sensing an incoming tirade over Theo. Sitting up in your seat, you crossed your arms and made him look at you. “You don't know him. But I do, and I trust him. And if you trust me, you should respect my decision. I get that you're worried, and it's sweet, it really is, but this is my call, not yours.”
“I know,” Harry groaned, hiding his face in his hands. You felt your resolve melt and rose out of your armchair to walk over to him, sitting down next to him and opening your arms. He slumped into them and you pulled him against your chest as you ran your hands through his hair.
“Harry?” “Hm?” “I'm sorry too. For not telling you.”
“Can't blame you,” he spoke against his hands so his voice came out muffled. “I was a prick last night.” “Stronzo,” you said proudly, “is what Theo would call you.” In reminiscence of your moments with him, you watched the flames flicker and patted your brothers head. “Apology accepted, by the way. If you keep your opinions about my relationship to yourself.”
“Thank you,” Harry muffled against your sweater and lifted himself up to put his head on your shoulder. You rested your chin upon his and pulled a blanket over the two of you. No more words were exchanged as you rested against each other, too lazy to stand up and go to your dorms. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the warmth of your brother and the fire. A weight that had accumulated over the last months was finally from your shoulders. Not in the way you had hoped, but you couldn't help but feel utterly content right now, with your brother, drowning in the cushion, head swarming with thoughts of Theo.
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a/n: thank you all for reading! to wrap this story up, I'll ad an (unofficial) nsfw part for those who are interested that I hope to get out before the start of 2025 (no promises). until then, enjoy this little teaser:
You sat cross-legged on the king sized bed in the room of requirement, fingers picking at the threads of the soft duvet beneath you. Anticipation curled in your insides as you fixed your eyes on the door. The room had answered your subconscious wish and provided a clock, an old grandfather clock, that ticked softly. Apart from your breathing, it was the only sound breaking the silence. Until the door handle clicked.
The door creaked open, and you looked up sharply, your breath catching as Theo slipped inside. His hair was damp from the rain still falling outside, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, his sharp features softening as his eyes landed on you. He hesitated for a moment, as if gauging the mood, before closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. There was a sort of tension in the room, or maybe you were imagining it because your nerves ran high. When Theo crooked his head, you realized what he was waiting for.
“Oh, Harry apologized,” you reassured him and Theo nodded, approaching the bed slowly. On his way, he shed his cloak and bag and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. “How did your friends take the whole thing?” you asked and scooted back to make space for him. Theo's eyes followed your retreating figure and he raised his brow, moving after you. “Are you running from me, tesoro?”
“Are you avoiding my question, Theo?” you countered and scooted back even more to tease him. Theo chuckled darkly and surged forward, trapping you beneath him by seizing your wrists and pushing them gently into the cushion. You couldn't help the high pitched gasp that left your throat. One of Theo's large hands was enough to bind both your wrists, leaving you utterly helpless under his hungry eyes. The other drew a teasing line down your side.
“Wouldn't dream of it, tesoro.”
[...] -> to be continued
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whambambatfam · 2 days ago
Text
Webs of a Wing
Chapter 1
I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.
Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..
When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?
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You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.
Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.
When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.
When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?
You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.
A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.
Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"
"I'm still working on that.."
"Have you.. asked them?"
There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.
"Can they?"
Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"
His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"
Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.
Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.
You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.
So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.
Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.
Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.
“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”
Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.
“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”
You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.
“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”
Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”
“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”
“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”
“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”
Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.
As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”
You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”
The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.
The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.
You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.
Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.
“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.
Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.
Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.
From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.
So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.
“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”
His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.
“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.
“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.
Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.
“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.
A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”
Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.
Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.
“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.
This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.
You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.
So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.
Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.
“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.
He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.
“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.
“At your service my dear.”
You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.
That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.
Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.
Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.
Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.
It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.
You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.
Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?
Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.
“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.
If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.
Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.
You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.
For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.
It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.
The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.
She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.
You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”
“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.
You have to give her your name, again.
“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.
“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.
“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”
No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.
You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.
Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.
Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.
With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.
You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”
Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”
Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.
“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”
Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.
“I did... he said the same thing.”
The paper is still there when you come back later.
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supercimi · 2 days ago
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Your friend has always been a bit carefree
Whenever he gave you those gifts, he basically just shoved them into your hands as If giving you some candy or something
He liked to joke around and get you in dumb situations all the time, sometimes those shenanigans got you in trouble, other times it ended in a rather underwhelming repercussions, like the flower bed incident when you were small.
Lucky for the both of you, the neighbourhood community had already wanted to get rid of that flowerbed, so you only got cleaning duty for three months because of what you two did
Maybe because of this, he would sometimes give you these gifts? He is a trickster and gets in trouble a lot yea but not a bad friend, u know?
Just yesterday, he told you that his next gift was gonna be awesome!
But why did he need you to wait in the square park for that?
...
It's been so long now...
How many hours have you been waiting?! And you were just praising him! He should just wait until you are back!! You shall not have his back!
Trudging away in anger and saddled with annoyance you finally reached your home
I mean homes, you two are neighbours after all,
"Hey! Where did that idio-"
Just as you snapped the gate doors open, the sight before you sucked any words you had left out of your mouth
"Oh, ops I got caught huh?" Your friend sheepishly confessed
"...." your gaping mouth couldn't catch up with your brain fast enough to close, but that was the least of your concerns right now
"You don't have any questions? " that same carefree tone and face yet, just what was going on?
There in front of you he stood, shimmer by shimmer he was fading away,
Words could not form, thoughts would not churn.
You could only stare
"Hey now, don't make that face," he laughed sheepishly like he did when he felt at loss
Why? What? How?
You could not say any of that
You couldn't even close your mouth
".....h..w..what?...how?" You finally managed to let out
Looking at his stupid face you wanted to claw the answers right out of his mind
But you couldn't, you wouldn't, even if you could.
"....because I made lots of mistakes?" He hummed as if thinking to himself
"So what! Why would this happen?!" Your confusion ignored, but that ignited your still mouth, and it finally spun its cries
"Because i made up for them all!"he boasted cheerily as if he wasn't fading more and more
"Wha?" Your confusion only multiplied but your words lost their strength
The passing time was only proved by his fading eyes
"...please just tell me your reasons" you tried a final time your earlier annoyanc and grievance at being stood up long forgotten
Looking at you for the uptenth time tonight, quite and kind, he wasn't someone who would have such a gentle look
"....because i care," smiling widely he answered vaguely yet again.
Streching your arms to grab that stupid figure, you barely had your words!
"That doesn't explain anything you doofus!"
You cried as your hands caught air
Your friend wasn't here anymore
.
...
....
.." ghr..dang..it...you.." blabbering your words, you could not speak anymore
You only cried in confusion
And that's okay
Despite every reality we had, you were always there for me.
You always went along with me
You had my back even when you didn’t recognize me
Be it in the past ir the future, or even in the present
You were my family
My friend
My teacher
My partner in crime
My only constant in the world
When you were gone, my world was gone
I searched for you, countless worlds and times, but they all aren't you
Well, they are you, but not you at the same time... Maybe that's why eventually i gave their original friends back to them
Because they were not my friend whom i lost
Maybe because i did that, i found you again
One final time
I had my family again for the last time
If the price for that was my life, it didn't really sound so bad
I hope you live on much more happily this time
We only had one life after all
Farewell, my friend.
Your friend keeps giving you very random gifts at completely random times. It seemed like an odd but nice gesture, until you realise each gift has saved your life from any sort of incident some time after accepting it.
#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#i tried smth up >:3#i was pretty inspired by the prompt#i got the idea to make the friend somrhow has thr ability to know about his friends' future accidents#and that by giving him these gifts he saved him but at the price of his own life#at furst i didn’t have an idea as to where all these abilities came from#but as i wrote i thought more! maybe by the power of grief the gifting friend found a way to travesr space and time to search for#his friend's soul! and whenever he did he would take over someone whose close to them to be qith his family again#but the more he did that#the more misfortunes he#caused for their worlds#and he couldn't keep doing that anymore#hurting all these souls for his selfishness#so he gave up his fruitless chace#and wandered space time eternally as a fading soul#maybe because of his selflessness in giving up what he wants#he ironically got it back#but not completely#he still had to pay back for all the misfortunes he caused#to do that he traded his time for the objects which could save his friend's life if that makes sense?#and so little by little#his dept was repaid#and his time was ending#his final gift was putting out a fire that could have ended his friend's life#he convinced his friend to go to the park just in case he couldn't do it#but he could#and he had to leave#he didn't plan for his friend to catch him just before he left thu#this might sound romantic but it's not intended as such btw its about family or found family in this case <3
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sparks-and-smoke · 2 days ago
Note
Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?
Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)
Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)
Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)
Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff
Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)
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You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse. 
“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”
Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”
“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.  
His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair. 
“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.
“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”
“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.
~~~~
Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park. 
“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy. 
“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?” 
“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows. 
“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes. 
He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it? 
“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…
But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters. 
“What?! No- I…” 
A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow. 
“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”
“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it. 
“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!” 
“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”
“I was looking for my coat!” 
“On the ground?”
Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face. 
“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?
“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”
Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..” 
“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.” 
Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half. 
“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears. 
“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”
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cherryxblossxms · 3 days ago
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🔞 The way all your friends and coworkers think Nanami is the perfect man to take home for Christmas to meet your folks. He's a hard worker, handsome, earns a great salary, and he's always so courteous and caring for you. Obviously he's the most respectful choice, why wouldn't anyone want to take him home to meet your family?
But you're not sure they'd be talking about respect if they saw the way Nanami was fucking you in your childhood bedroom right now.
[GN reader, just some dirty Christmas smut~]
He'd already had a chat with your parents, discussed his plans for the future and how they'd include you. Once introductions and a little small chat was out of the way, your parents went back to cooking. Nanami had of course tried to offer to help in the kitchen, wanting to leave as good of an impression as possible with your parents. But although they were tempted to accept, they eventually pushed you both out of the kitchen, urging for you to give a tour of the house. And so you did just that, showing him around your childhood home, the maple tree in the yard you've had all your life, the marks on the wall indicating your height every year of your childhood. The tour ended with your childhood bedroom, of course, now treated partially as a storage room since you'd moved out.
It started with kisses as it always does, but now that you weren't under the careful watch of your parents, what started as chaste and sweet turned into deep and dirty. It wasn't long before his long fingers were slipping beneath your sweater, teasing your nipples and squeezing the fat there, or he'd tugged down your pants just enough for access to your most sensitive parts. The fingers that worked so hard to type up work reports and finish documentation were now stroking you so deftly, teasing your hole and working you into a frenzy.
Nanami's mouth and fingers made sure to keep you occupied, sealing your lips with his when his fingers reached a particularly deep, sensitive spot, and bending you over in front of the window before eating you out from behind, licking you like the sweetest candy and getting your legs trembling. And keeping you bent, he used his hand to cover your mouth as he finally stuffed you full, trying his best to muffle your sounds as he pushed in to his base, basking in the heat of your body and the way you squeezed around him.
A little chill air leaked around the window, only serving to harden your nipples and make everything more sensitive. Nanami kept close as he started to thrust, nearly humping you instead, causing the mushroom head of his cock to press against that sweet button inside, over and over. One hand kept your mouth covered, but the other locked your hips to his, keeping you close and stroking your arousal again as he fucked you close. The close quarters meant every single dirty whisper was made right against your ear, spurring on your desires and only serving to make you hotter.
You both knew you wouldn't have long, a house tour only takes so long before it gets suspicious, especially with dinner on the way. But something about fucking in your old bedroom, desperately trying to keep quiet with your parents just a few rooms away, only seemed to heighten your pleasure. Nanami could read your body like a book, and it wasn't long before he could feel the telltale rhythmic squeezing around his cock, indicating your climax was coming.
Just as he felt you fall off the edge, he sped up his thrusts, fucking you hard and deep, catapulting you into your orgasm instead. Even his hand wasn't enough to entirely muffle the scream you let out, but neither of you could care right now as you tightened on Nanami, pushing him to his orgasm and milking him for all he was worth, taking his seed in as deep as you could. He was in love with the way you trembled in his arms, thrusting a little, risking overstimulation but not wanting to leave your heat anytime soon, drawing every last bit of pleasure that he could.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and your lover finally released you from his hold. Gone was the wild beast from a minute ago, now back to your courteous lover, cleaning up the mess between your thighs and straightening each other's clothes. You two made it out of the bedroom just in time for a parent to come looking, inquiring about the noise. As you two quickly thought up the most plausible lie to tell, you squeezed your thighs and tried to keep a straight face, Nanami's little Christmas gift to you starting to leak out. And one glance at your lover's face was enough to glean that he knew exactly what he'd done to you, a subtle but clear look of satisfaction shining in his eyes.
No, you think, other's might not be so quick to call him respectful after the way he fucked you for Christmas. Not that you'd have it any other way.
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themultifanshipper · 22 hours ago
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Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.
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Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'
You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.
He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.
But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.
You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.
He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.
You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.
You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.
Your sergeant was a different kind of man.
Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…
But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.
Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.
Until today.
Your last day before returning home.
The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.
You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.
And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.
“Hello, beautiful”
“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.
You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.
“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”
You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.
Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.
He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.
Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.
But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.
He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.
The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.
He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.
You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.
Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.
You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.
“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.
“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”
The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.
He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.
You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.
“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.
You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.
Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.
His heart broke.
“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”
He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.
He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.
You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.
You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.
He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.
You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”
It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.
“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”
He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”
His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.
Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.
“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.
You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.
He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.
You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”
He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.
You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.
You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.
For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.
You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.
You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.
You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”
The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.
“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.
“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.
“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”
You sighed. In a perfect world.
“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”
Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.
“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”
You blinked at him.
“You don't have to do that”
“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”
You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.
“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.
He smiled “No problem”
“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”
His eyes softened as he looked at you.
He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.
You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.
“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.
“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”
You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.
“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”
That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.
“You…”  he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”
You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”
He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”
You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”
Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.
Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”
You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”
He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.
“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”
Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.
You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.
“Of course”
His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.
“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.
“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”
“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.
“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”
He sighed. “I can’t. I have-  uhh, a problem.”
“What problem?”
“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”
Your breath hitched. “You mean…”
The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.
“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”
“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”
Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.
“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”
His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”
“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.
“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”
“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.
Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.
It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.
And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.
You felt him shiver behind you.
“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”
His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”
A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.
“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.
“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”
Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.
“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.
He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.
He bit back a moan.
He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.
You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.
He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.
He was just a man after all.
And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.
But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.
And now you were getting turned on.
It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.
You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.
The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.
The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.
You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.
It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.
 You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.
“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.
You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.
He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.
“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”
You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.
“Oscar”
“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.
“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.
Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.
“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”
“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”
His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.
“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.
“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.
“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”
“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.
His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.
He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.
“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.
You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.
“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.
He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.
��Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.
You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.
You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.
Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.
You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.
“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”
You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.
He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.
You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.
When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.
He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.
Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.
So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.
It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.
Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.
So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.
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omgfloofy · 1 day ago
Text
Let's just answer the whole damn list.
1: How many fics have you worked on since January?
I've got the ever present dal segno al coda that I've always been working on this year. However, in May, I came up with the concepts that turned into The Insurgent King and this has kind of taken over EVERYTHING in my mind.
I also got a couple of Ys fics out, a pretty dark story for Van Arkride, and a couple of one shot stories for FFXV.
2: What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?
👏 MAFIA 👏 ADJACENT 👏
Insurgent King has been SO MUCH FUN because it's really delving a lot into the dark underbelly of stuff. I also got to use my AP style from Endless History in a fic with The King's Interview in that series.
But in general, writing has been amazingly therapeutic for me. It was something I started after my mom's death in 2022 as a bit of personal therapy. I think having time to be in make believe worlds writing fantasy and adventure when it sometimes feels like my world is falling apart has helped me more than you can believe.
Additionally, an upcoming story that I've been planning for Insurgent King is straight up a heist story, ala Oceans 11 and so forth. I've never done something like this before and it has been the craziest thing I've had to plan. And it's the one story that doesn't have a shit ton of stuff already written for it, since the heist needs to be so carefully put together.
I'm SO excited for that story to finally get released. I can't wait for people to read it because it's been so much fun to plan.
3: What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)
Final Fantasy XV seems to be the game to keep on giving me a lot of inspiration for ideas. However, I've been finding inspiration for my stories in so many things all over the place.
Trails Through Daybreak has served as much of a supportive 'vibe check' for Insurgent King, as an example. Watching through Tower of God's S2 anime has reminded me of how COOL that comic is and since I've started writing, I've started finding a whole new appreciation for fiction and other stories all over the place. The biggest influence this year, though, has been from old TV shows ala Lost and Stargate, both of which have been an immense inspiration for the storytelling method behind Insurgent King. Look at it like a serialized TV series and the way I'm writing it will probably make a lot more sense.
4: How many fandoms did you write for this year?
For things published, three: Final Fantasy XV, Ys, and Trails.
For things that are still in my WIPs bin? Lost Universe, No Man's Sky, and Helldivers.
5: What ships captured your heart?
I adore Lunoct - but I fully understand that my bias comes from working on dal segno al coda, which is kind of my baby. I can't wait to start releasing it, because Noctis and Lunafreya are the quintessential power couple in it, and fate does not want them together because of the shit they can do when united in it.
6: What characters captured your heart?
I know this was from something I released last year, but it was at the very end of the year, and it still carried over through this year: Anemona from Ys IX. I would not have written anything for her if it wasn't for the Yuletide exchange.
I've also found myself loving the hell out of writing Gladio in my FFXV fics. He's started to become one of the easiest characters for me to write, even.
Also, writing in the point of view of Regis in The King's Gambit. I want to write something that's far more enjoyable for him than the ball of anxiety he was in that fic. Shit was going poorly and he had to change everything to make it go less poorly in that story. I just want something with him being happy.
7: Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?
I hadn't written/released anything for the Trails series, strangely enough, until I wrote Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes. I have another fic that I've been dabbling with that's Trails from Zero/Trails to Azure, but I'm not far enough to really call anything for it.
8: What fic meant the most to you to write?
The Cordelia Manifest.
This was the first fic of the Insurgent King series. Think of it like the pilot for a TV series. I wrote it based on vibes I got while listening to music from Bubblegum Crisis. While doing so, I realized that I love this setting a LOT and really needed to delve into it more and explain out how Insomnia fell and Noctis became a king of the criminal underworld in it.
9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
Lost and Found.
This was my fic in the FFXV Remix event that happened earlier this year. I had so much fun reading a fic called The new guy by MiraNjell and chose it for my remix fic.
A lot of this was pulled from my own personal experiences from getting a new puppy this year.
10: What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?
The Insurgent King.
In this case, not the series, but the fic named for the series. This is my longest published fic on AO3, and I felt so proud of actually getting it done.
11: What fic was the most difficult to write?
ad astra is one of my FFXV wips. I've come and go with it several times, but since it delves very hard into concepts that are "beyond human understanding" and kind of delves a bit into cosmic horror… it's easily one of the most difficult projects ahead of me. I want to read more cosmic/eldritch horror before I try to write more of it, and I really want to become a much better writer to do this concept justice.
With what I released, it would be Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes. I've never written whump before and this was somewhat uncomfortable as it has a lot of heavily implied child abuse. It's only 400'ish words, but I didn't want to expand on it any further.
12: What fic was the easiest to write?
Infiltration! I just sat on the ending for ages, and then decided "boom" and knocked that shit out in a couple of hours. A lot of Noctis and Prompto's interactions remind me very much of the same kind of 'two friends who lose all brain cells when together' friendship that I have with my best friend.
In fact, the "be quiet" aspect of Infiltration was actually based on a real bet with my best friend from years and years ago.
13: What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?
Shortest: Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes - 414 words
Longest: The Insurgent King (story, not series.) - 62,638
14: What were your go-to writing songs?
I made a whole ass playlist for Insurgent King.
15: What was the hardest fic to title?
Filed Away. I still am not 100% happy with the title.
16: What's your favorite title of the year?
There's an upcoming story in my Insurgent King series called A Field of Flowers. I love everything about this title. I can't wait for people to see just why it's an amazing title, too.
17: Share your favorite opening line
Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Click. "Fisherman's Lighthouse." "Good… [afternoon], this is an automated call from Concordo Shipping. Your freight parcel has been scanned in at… [Pier Lots Warehouse] and will be ready for pick up in… [forty-eight hours]. Failure to pick up your parcel… [one week] after its release will see that your parcel is forfe–" Click.
The above is the opening from Observator, one of the side stories in Insurgent King. I love it because I think you can hear the automated voice on the line.
18: Share your favorite ending line
Voices echoed through Regis' quickly fading consciousness. He saw the flash of blue, glimmering magic in front of him. He couldn't make out the words from the woman's voice — it sounded as if he was under water. He had no time. He held his left hand up to her. He needed the ring to be noticed immediately. "Take it." His strength faded fast. "Take it to…" But Regis Lucis Caelum never got out that last word before he died on the steps of the Citadel.
The above is the ending (before the super short epilogue) of The King's Gambit, the third story of the Insurgent King series. Regis' death is a catalyst to everything in the series, and I wanted the story that was in his POV to end abruptly as he died. There would be no more 'voice' for the POV any longer, afterall.
19: Share your favorite piece of dialogue
"It's not home." Noct said as he crossed the room and started to poke through the bag. It's dinner, but instead of commenting on the food, he mused out loud, "I'm surprised, though. Ignis is usually super critical when I'm too lax about hiding my identity." "You could make it easier and introduce me to them as your cousin Gladio Gar." "No." Noct stopped, then looked up. He sounded a lot sharper than he initially intended, but continued with it, "Don't. That's my thing." Gladio leaned back with a smug grin. The chair groaned in protest at the large man's weight from the action. "Yeah, I know." He paused for a second, just for the timing of it. "It shouldn't be." "I have a good cover here." Noct mumbled as he dropped into his own chair and opened the box to look through the food. It was a burger — he was surprised it wasn't Cup Noodles. "It's about as great as a baseball cap." "It works!" Noct grabbed a fry out of the box and threw it at Gladio. He laughed as it only bounced harmlessly off his head.
The above is from A Part to Play, one of my Twilight extra stories that's still in WIP format. I have to be extremely careful with this one because it has some very technical stuff to describe and I need to take my time. It should be out soon, though.
19: Share your funniest line
This time, the roles were switched. Luna took hold of Noctis' wrist and walked ahead to lead him, instead. "What's the worst he could do to us?" "To you." Noctis didn't fight being pulled along. "He wouldn't do anything to you." A beat. "He'd just kick my ass in our next training session." "If he's kicking your ass," It was so weird to hear Luna repeat his own words. She always knew what to say and the perfect way to say it, when Noctis felt he fell short in that skillset. Luna quickly glanced back to say, "Then you just need to…" She paused, as she seemed to search for the words, then continued, "get good and show him what for." Noctis thought, at first, that he must have not heard her right. The words and Luna's voice just didn't sound right together. After running that over in his head again, he finally laughed. "I'm sorry. Who are you and what did you do with Lunafreya?"
This is from Date Night, my little 'preview fic' for Noctis and Lunafreya in dal segno al coda.
This fic is a single night of events that just didn't fit in the full narrative of the main story and is Noctis and Lunafreya having an evening out together in Insomnia. (takes place during part 2)
I really have a lot of fun with Noct and Luna in segno. I know I said it before, but I'll say it again: I really can't wait to get comfortable enough to start posting it, because I want people to really have fun with what the two are capable of in that story.
As I said before, they are very much a power couple in dal segno al coda, except there are points here and there when Noctis and Lunafreya just have the chance to be the people they could never otherwise be.
20: What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?
I would go as far as to say that the sudden idea behind Solus popping into my head was a big surprise. It doesn't change the overall story of the Insurgent King, but it does add more to it, I feel.
There's also a contender for biggest 'surprise' that came about from writing part 2 of segno. This wasn't this year - I think I wrote the scene last year, even - but I'm still trying to contend with it. I feel like I have to fight over 'how far is too far' with the idea.
It changed a LOT of segno and triggered a lot of rewrites, as well. However, it was very much a case of 'Lunafreya wants what she wants, and it's not necessarily what the author originally wanted.' LOL
21: What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?
I started using Google Drive, but I was introduced to Ellipsus this year and I love it so much. So I've started migrating my works to it.
While it's not the main parts of the story themselves, I have a plnner for dal segno al coda, that I use to keep track of dates in it and what happens around said dates.
I also have been carrying a tiny composition book in my purse to use when I get ideas while away from home.
22: If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?
I would actually put that towards The King's Interview and when I looked at the finished product on AO3. Not so much the writing part of it, but the design work and workskin editing. Since I have a web development background, I really love playing with AO3 workskins and think they can be a very powerful tool in storytelling.
That header image was made from two different stock images, and intended to illustrate the interview, as you would see on a news site or newspaper.
I also did something like it for the Epilogue for The King's Gambit. I made a faux newspaper front page in InDesign, complete with making a believable printed halftone look of the front of the Citadel. There's so much more of that layout than what I showed.
I've also got a story that's doing something like this further down the line in segno - so I may have just lifted that idea from there. segno's 'front page' is a little more complete than this one, however. Complete with extra fake headlines and snippets of other articles and stuff.
23: Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
Not necessarily. I think the only real time to celebrate finishing one would be when I finished The Insurgent King - the story, not the series it's named after. This is probably due to the nature of the series, though, since I was immediately in my files and making notes of where to go with the next story and what had to be revealed in it (as well as what I can't reveal yet).
24: How did you recharge between fics?
I might just pull up a game and play a bit. Nothing too fancy.
25: Did you create fanworks other than fic?
Not really, no.
26: How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)
Just one, really. It was the @ffxvremix. I wrote Lost and Found for it.
27: If this were an awards show, who would you thank?
I'd thank, of course, @firefallvaruna for being my amazing beta reader. I'd also thank @snifftheraven. He's been the best sounding board for a lot of my ideas. He's also super honest and tells me when my ideas are too much, or if I have gone down a path that I probably wouldn't want to take.
28: What's left on your to-do list for 2024?
Sadly, my to-do list included getting part 1 of segno done. Then I got sideswiped by a whole new AU called The Insurgent King. Which is on point for that AU's version of Noctis.
I might celebrate the end of the year by working on segno a bit more and maybe pushing that 75-80% completion a little closer to 100%.
29: What would you like to write next year?
Getting segno's part 1 done and started to AO3 is definitely on my planned list for next year. I'm also continuing onward into Insurgent King.
I know the ending to both series. I should be able to make it.
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A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!
How many fics have you worked on since January?
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?
What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)
How many fandoms did you write for this year?
What ships captured your heart?
What characters captured your heart?
Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?
What fic meant the most to you to write?
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?
What fic was the most difficult to write?
What fic was the easiest to write?
What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?
What were your go-to writing songs?
What was the hardest fic to title?
What's your favorite title of the year?
Share your favorite opening line
Share your favorite ending line
Share your favorite piece of dialogue
Share your funniest line
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?
What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?
How did you recharge between fics?
Did you create fanworks other than fic?
How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)
If this were an awards show, who would you thank?
What's left on your to-do list for 2024?
What would you like to write next year?
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