#yeah i know salt of the earth is a compliment but like

[kick3dpuppy2]

salt of the earth

my body is a garden i've tended it many years grown bushes and herbs and roses sown the seeds of wrath and hope and peace into it's earth fenced it in to keep it from leering rabbits and mud-pawed dogs found myself giving spare vegetables to neighbors and friends lately, as it's grown, the passing glances it receives have become less than passing the fences have turned to walls i find myself chasing away boys and men who climb upon them, daring to reach their hands into my herbs tangle their fists in my roses grin and whistle and laugh as they escape with the hard-earned, well-tended fruits of my labor lately i've found myself paranoid watching my garden carefully each day sitting with it, tending to it, mending the broken branches and bruised petals and although i'm there, gun in my hands, pepper spray at my waist, taser in my pocket i still find their salt upon my land nothing new will grow where they have been

[thewulf]

You're A Joy || Remus Lupin

Summary: Request - Okay here is another one that is hella personal. Yesterday I was told that i convince people to not love me(kinda shocking and I’m still alittle confused). But what about Remus and reader being friends but clearly liking each other. But like the reader is constantly jokingly putting her self down and such... Read Rest Here

A/N: Made this a 3 x 1. The three times you don’t give yourself credit and the one-time Remus does something about it. Thank you for the request @loving-and-dreaming !!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.6k+

The Great Hall

You were sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall peacefully before the four boys, whom you really did grow to love over the years, swarmed all around you. Truly, the small smile that formed on your face was one of utter joy. The four of them had made the measly journey as a first year through the six years together an absolute joy. You’d have been lost without your girls, yes. But without the guys? Who knows what pure bliss felt like. What laughing until you had no air left in your lungs felt like. What a shoulder to cry on without an ounce of judgment felt like. You loved them all. But man, were they annoying sometimes.

“Where’s Lily?” James asked before his ass hit the seat bringing a soft smile to you face. A soft shake of your head let him know you didn’t have a clue where she was. You had to hand it to him though, the boy was persistent. Lily would surely give in one of these days. She was teetering on the edge of saying yes to your bemusement. You’d never thought she’d give in to James. But credit to him he finally listened to you after years of advice and slowly Lily was seeing the James you always saw.

“Not a clue Jamsie.” You looked up to him with a wry smile, “Why do you ask?” Playing coy with James was on of your favorite pastimes, truly.

He shrugged looking away, “Just curious I suppose.”

“Right. Just curious.” Nodding your head, you didn’t dare look over to the boy who always watched you with curiosity in his gaze. He was far too fucking handsome. With that light brown hair and those big brown eyes? How everybody wasn’t fawning over Remus was beyond you. Instead, they flocked to his much cooler friend Sirius. You just wish you had the courage to even hold a non-awkward conversation with the boy. Ever since you started crushing on him it’s like you forgot how to hold a normal conversation with the boy. You were able to fake it with the group but got squirrelly when it was just the two of you.

Sirius interrupted your endless stream of thoughts when he spoke up after a comfortable silence between the group, “Thanks for the homework help, Y/N.” Sirius spoke breaking you from the Remus spell that was taking over your bloody mind.

It was your turn to shrug it off, “Don’t mention it. Anybody would’ve helped.” You hummed continuing to look ahead and not any of them. You were never good at receiving compliments. It just didn’t come too terribly natural too you.

“I beg to differ. These idiots all but refused. You saved my ass. A true lifesaver.” He pressed singing your praises instead of dropping. Adding salt onto the wound he shot you a knowing wink.

He had a knowing smirk gracing his all too pretty face. Almost like he knew he caught you doing something, “Ah, yeah. Sure.” You once again tried brushing him off, but he wasn’t having it. Sirius never did what you wanted him to do. It’s like he was put on the earth to make you uncomfortable, to push your boundaries. A needed friend. A friend that helped you blossom.

He leaned forward deciding he wanted to press your buttons today. Afterall, Sirius knew that Remus was already in love with you. Hell, the entirety of Gryffindor and damn near the whole school knew the two of you were an item. The two of you were just clueless to it, for now. Sirius let it simmer for the better part of a year, but he couldn’t really take much more of the longing glances and the hopeless flirting that goes on between the two of you. He had to find a way to get one of you two stubborn heads to admit anything. He was on a one-man mission that everybody supported. Quite literally everybody. McGonagall checked in the other day. Even she too was getting tired of the puppy dog eyes between the pair.

“No, no jokes. What would we do without you Y/N?” He grabbed at your hand, “Everybody thinks its Remmy over there that keeps us together. But I think it’s you.”

You rolled your eyes snatching your hand away from the player boy, “Shut up Sirius.”

“He’s right, you know.” Remus spoke up earning a curious gaze from the other three boys. He was always the man of the fewest words. It was always like pulling teeth to get him to say more than ten words. But with you? You always seemed to be the exception. Words spilled out of his mouth when you were around. His own form of Kryptonite you seemed to be.

“You don’t have to be nice Rem.” You tried reasoning with him feeling your cheeks grow in shades of red.

James snickered, “It’s not being nice if it’s true.”

“Is it so hard to accept that you might just be great, love?” Remus added in a softer tone seeing that you were stuck in your own head.

You let out a sigh a tad overwhelmed by the four sets of eyes peering right at you, “Thanks. I guess. Now, let’s get to Potions. Don’t want to be late, Slughorn will have our heads.” You stood motioning them forward.

Charms

“How in the hell are you so good at this?” James grumbled from the desk beside you. You heard Remus and Sirius laugh from the row behind the two of you.

Setting down your wand you turned to your Charms partner, “You know my mum went to Ilvermorny. They’re legendary at Charms Jamsie. Guess she passed some of that onto me.” You punched your best friend in the shoulder.

He grumbled reading the book once more trying to figure out the silly little charm that only you seemed to be able to pick up on the first try. Even Remus behind you was taking longer than normal to get the charm to actually work as intended.

Naturally, you had to show off a little to James and only irritate the boy further when you moved your journal with ease across the table. It wasn’t that it was a terribly hard charm, it’s that you were doing it without your wand. Your mum had taught you over the last few summers how to hone in the skill. That and working with Flitwick for a few years and you’d become a sort of charms pro. Going to class was simply a novelty at this point.

You knew you were going to do something with the skill. You hadn’t a clue what. You found you weren’t the best teacher so that was quickly out the window. If you couldn’t teach James then you weren’t going to cut it, even you knew that.

Flitwick walked over watching you closely. He knew you were a rare talent in the skill. Few witches or wizards could perform magic without a wand yet here you were doing it as if it was easy.

“Impressive as always Miss Y/L/N.” Flitwick interrupted your thoughts bringing the journal to a screeching halt.

You grinned at him, “Oh, it’s nothing.”

His eyes watched you curiously, “Surely, Mr. Potter here can’t say the same?”

James rolled his eyes grumbling something else, “No, course not. This stuff is impossible and you’re doing it without a wand?” James wanted to throw the book at you. So casually brilliant and without a damn clue. He wasn’t stupid. This stuff was supposed to come easy. It’s why he was in the class, an easy A. Yet here you were breezing past him without a second thought. He knew if he wasn’t helplessly in love with Lily you were close behind.

You shook your head, “Shush Jamsie.”

Flitwick laughed at the nickname, at the dichotomy between the two of you, “Have you thought more about what we spoke about earlier?” Flitwick turned his attention back to you.

Shaking your head quickly you answered him lowly, hoping your friends wouldn’t hear, “No, not really. I need to talk to my mum about it.”

He nodded curtly, “After the holiday’s we’ll discuss it further then?”

“Sure.” You answered quickly hoping and praying they hadn’t heard too much. But they had. All eyes were on you giving you all sorts of looks.

The second you were out of class the questions started from the guys, “What was he on about Y/N?” Sirius asked first not afraid to be a little bold.

“Who?” You decided to play dumb. Maybe they’d drop it.

Remus laughed knowing it would only piss him off more, “Shove off Moony.” Sirius pushed him lightly before turning his attention back to you, “Flitwick you idiot.”

“Idiot? That’s harsh Siri.” Giggling you tried your best to hide the contentment from your face.

Remus smiled, “You’re deflecting love.” Love, he always called you that. None of the other guys seemed to. Shit, you’d started to notice he didn’t call anybody else that. It was that something special between the two of you. That extra something that made you all kinds of nervous.

“Am I now Remmy?” You giggled with a lightness about you trying your best to get their minds off of Flitwick.

“Yes love, now spill.” He pressed knowing you’d fold under his gaze eventually.

You stuck your tongue out at him then the other two, “You’re all a bunch of grumps.”

“Yeah sure, go on then.” James agreed wanting to know. You knew as well as the rest there were hardly any secrets amongst the group.

You sighed knowing they’d never drop it. You’d have to spill, “There’s a position open for a bank as a curse breaker. Flitwick wants me to apply. Says I’ve got the job if I want it. Says he’s way up on the board or something like that.”

James’ jaw dropped while Sirius whistled, “Damn Y/N.”

“You’re going to take it right?” James asked with bug eyes, “Those jobs are as hard to come by as auror’s are.”

You shrugged, “Like I said, need to talk to mum about it.”

“You’re brilliant!” Sirius clapped your back as he always did when he got overexcited.

You chuckled shaking your head, “Hardly.”

James shook his head dramatically, “You freaking make magic with your mind. You’re a freaky freak. Brilliant hardly describes you Y/N.”

“Oh, bugger off.”

“You do that all the time, you know.” Remus hummed after a lull in conversation amongst friends.

“What?” You replied not expecting his answer.

“You never take a compliment. Never. Can’t you just accept that you’re a joy love?” The two boys kept their mouths shut as Remus leaned in, pressing on your tightly constructed walls.

You gave him a look before nodding, “Sure. Now lets go eat. I need to talk to Marlene about that Herbology assignment also.”

He knew you were deflecting. You always did. But sure, was more than nothing. He had to give you that. There was some sort of progress with you.

Hogsmeade

You, Remus, Lily, and Marlene were enjoying a few beverages celebrating your first weekend out in Hogsmeade. James and Sirius were wrapping up quidditch practice leaving the four of you responsible for finding a table that the group could camp out in all day. It truly was your favorite way to spend a Saturday away from Hogwarts.

Marlene grabbed Lily pulling her down in the seat next to her, “You two sit across from us.” She gave you a knowing grin all but forcing the two of you to sit beside the other. Marlene was just as tired as Sirius was with the whole situation between the two of you. Neither of you had the courage to go for it and she was slowly losing it.

“Sure.” You smiled up at him trying your best to play it cool before shooting daggers at your supposed friend. You’d never grow tired of looking at the handsome boy who stood much, much taller than you.

He pulled the chair out for you motioning for you to sit first. Without much thought you sat down thanking him and turning to the other two who were both giving you that look.

“What?” You asked all but clueless to what the hell they were staring at.

Lily giggled before turning to Marlene who was shaking her head, “Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m going to go get us some drinks. Care to help Lily?”

“Absolutely my dear friend.” Lily followed Marlene quickly leaving the two of you to wait out Sirius and James.

“Didn’t give us much of choice then?” You sighed leaning back into the seat. Play it cool. That’s all you had to do. You could do it. It was just Rem. Your Remy guy.

He eased himself back to before turning his head towards you. A soft smile layered on his face as he took you in, “No, she didn’t. Don’t really mind though. Look at that line. They’ll be standing for a while.”

Your eyes followed his in curiosity, he was right. Rosmerta’s was popular. Especially on the day the students were allowed out, “Sucks to be them.” Nodding your head in agreement your eyes found his once more. A game of chicken commenced as you decided not to be the first one to look away. Little did you know Remus was thinking the same.

Fortunately for your awkward ass you were interrupted by the two other marauders, the troublemakers of the group. Remus sighed in annoyance hearing them before seeing them.

Your eyes widened in concern as your saw their torn-up state, “What happened to you two?” You cringed seeing Sirius bleeding from his shoulder and cheek. There was a bruise forming on James’ eye and somebodies blood coating his hand and arm.

“We’re fine. Just quidditch.” Sirius hummed taking a seat next to you while James sat next to Remus knowing where Lily was sitting based on the purse occupying the seat.

“Yeah Y/N. Completely fine.” James nodded in agreement.

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your wand, “I’d argue that any day. You’re never completely fine Jamsie.”

“Me too.” Remus added while snickering at your quick remark towards your longtime friend.

“Me three.” Sirius agreed throwing a wicked grin at James.

He groaned in annoyance, “You’re all bastards.”

“But you love us.” You added.

“Sometimes.” He nodded in agreement.

You turned towards Sirius looking over his injuries, “Here,” You grabbed at his face, “Look at me Siri.”

“I’m not dying Y/N.” He rolled his eyes trying his best to come off annoyed. But even he couldn’t deny he loved the care you so often showed towards him. He wasn’t used to somebody so nurturing. Often his cuts, bumps and bruises went unnoticed by his mother or father. But you picked up on everything. On each one of them. It’s how you found out Remus was a werewolf faster than any of them could expect. It was driving you mad in your third year, why was he always so cut up around the moon? Why was he always gone? Why were the rest of them secretly missing during those days too?

Your persistence paid off as James spilled the secret of them being animagi to help Remus during his transformations. Remus wasn’t mad, no. He rarely got mad. He was embarrassed. But as always your love showed him how much you didn’t care about his condition. That was the moment he knew he liked you, quite a bit. You were clueless for a while longer. Until Slughorn’s Amortentia positions class in sixth year. You all but blurted out that your cauldron smelled exactly as his cologne instead you made some bullshit up.

“No, but you’re bleeding. Don’t want that pretty face to scar now do we Siri?” Clicking your tongue, you dropped his face to grab the wand sitting at the table.

“You’re right, we wouldn’t want that darling.” He nodded closing his eyes letting you do your work.

You whispered a soft, “Secare Amendo.” Waving your wand at his cuts and bruises. It never ceased to amaze you how cut up the boys got after a practice. It was no wonder they went straight to Pomfrey after an actual match.

“There, as good as new pretty boy.” You patted his head before leaning back in your seat once more.

He grinned, “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“I’m ignoring that.” James glared at Sirius before eyeing you, “What about me Y/N?”

“What about you Jamsie?” You asked knowing how to drive him up a wall.

Scrunching his nose he answered, “Will you please heal me too?”

You nodded leaning over Remus before doing the same, “All you had to do was ask Jamsie.” Which earned a laugh from the entire group.

“Beauty, brains and your funny. A triple threat.” Sirius spoke first.

Shaking your head quickly you forgot about Remus’s reminder to you earlier, “You flatter me Sirius Black.”

He shrugged your comment off, “Would you just take the compliment, for once?” Sirius challenged you. As he always did. Your biggest advocate. Your biggest headache.

“Thank you Sirius.” You replied to him knowing it was just easier.

“Now, was that so hard?” Remus added. All three of you gave him a shocked expression for being so… brazen about it.

You wanted to look away but something in his eyes told you not to, “I suppose not.”

He nodded not super satisfied with the way the conversation was unfolding, “I wish you’d see we see in you. What I see in you.” He added with a whisper.

Sirius nodded at James, “We’re going to help the girls with the drinks.”

“Oh, you don’t need to.” You attempted to stand before Remus grabbed at your hand.

“Let them, I want to talk to you.”

Your heart rate involuntarily kicked it up a notch, “You do?”

“I do, be honest with me, alright?” He didn’t drop your hand but gave it a squeeze instead. He waited for some sort of acknowledgement. After giving him a head nod you waited for him to continue, “Why? Why don’t you…” He trailed off not finding the right words.

“Why don’t I what?” You had a thought of where he was going but needed him to confirm it.

Remus sighed knowing the words might hurt you, “Why don’t you love yourself? Like we do. I said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re a joy. An absolute joy love.” He rambled knowing what he said probably hurt. But he needed to dig. To break down your iron walls you’d had up for so long.

It did hurt. But was he wrong? Did you even like yourself? Nothing went wrong in your childhood. You had loving parents and the normal thing plus being magical might’ve put a little strain on your muggle father, but it was never anything he couldn’t handle. He knew what he was getting into when he married your crazy American mum. You were truly a rare bread. A dirty half breed from an American commoner or so Sirius’s lovely mother had called you to your face in fourth year. If she had the gall to say that you could only imagine what she said behind closed doors. No wonder Sirius needed to get away. Thank God for James and his parents. It was a marvel Sirius turned out as kind as he was after being raised by the Black’s.

You looked away from him, “I don’t know Rem.”

He mimicked your actions from earlier grabbing at your face and gently pointing it towards him, “Look at me.” Which, of course, sent your heart into a tailspin, “Would you try, for me?”

“Try?”

“Being kinder to yourself. It hurts me when your like that to yourself. It hurts when the person you love and adore can’t see what I see.” He was speaking fast, nervous as could be.

“Love and adore?”

“Yes.” He spoke quickly, it was out there now.

“Me?”

“Yes.” He dropped your face in favor of your hands. Giving them a squeeze, “Sirius was right. Incredibly beautiful. Smartest witch in our class. Funniest person I know. A triple threat. It’s amazing somebody hasn’t grabbed your attention. You’re incredible. A wonderful human. An utter joy. My love.” He added.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Damn. It’s not what you expected but you couldn’t say you were upset. No, this felt like a dream.

“Are you sure?” You added once more.

He groaned, “Y/N. We just talked about this. Yes. You love. You’re exceptional. Try to see what I see. Please?”

You nodded finally processing his words, “I like you too, quite a bit.”

He laughed softly giving your hands a gentle squeeze, “Well that’s good. Considering what I just told you.” He smiled, “But, I need you to answer my question. Will you try? Please Y/N.”

“Of course, I’ll try. Just, be patient with me?”

He nodded back at you pulling you closer on the bench seat, “Yes love. Always.”

“Can’t believe you actually like me.” You echoed back at him still not believing it fully. Had he made it obvious? Put it out there and you were clueless?

“Thought I made it obvious love. Can I ask you one more thing?” He searched your eyes.

“Yeah, anything.”

He smiled adoring the trust you seemingly had in him, “Would you go on a date with me? A proper date to Hogsmeade. Without the guys. And the girls. Just you and me?”

“I’d love to.” You’d answered all too excitedly.

He let of a sigh of utter relief, “That’s a relief. How’s next Saturday sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” You grinned feeling the usual nerves suddenly vanish. It felt like old times between the two of you. Two kids getting to know each other. Willing to explore more. Understand each other further and deeper. God, you couldn’t wait.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

got no asks? i got you pookie, my megamind like brain is producing more so if your having a bad time, you know who to call 😘😘 (/JOKE I SWEAR)

imagine god like!reader trying to persuade yan!beasts into not killing innocent cookies just for not having the power baked into them, and remember my last ask when i asked for a reader really good and comforting and with very good intuition? like they can easily tell what is upsetting them or what they need/what (i don’t really remember but yeah)

so with the empathy god like!reader was baked with along with power, she went to go hopefully end this… and by persuading i mean giving the sweet delectable attention reader refused to give them… with good reasons of course, so dropped down from being away in a secluded place in earth bread, from being distant cause of their unhealthy actions, it’s time to put this plan into action, hoping it work, but if they wanted more of reader, they got to stop with terrorizing cookies

(for clarification: the plan is to just be all soft and loving toward them, then leave to warn the cookies to leave, and if the beasts want more, they actually have to stop)

To be honest, they probably don't even realize what you're doing is to distract them! Having your loving attention on them is so intoxicating that it's hard to realize that you're distracting them from their goals of chaos.

Shadow Milk Cookie is just above Eternal Sugar Cookie with how much he craves your attention and love. He's always pulling you into watching his plays or just praising him. He gets whiney, begging even whenever you leave. He wants you to stay, give him more attention! What could be more important than him..?!

Eternal Sugar Cookie desires your attention constantly. How does she look? Do her wings look pretty? How does she sound? Every compliment you give her ends up making her more and more infatuated with you! Just please stop leaving.. she gets so lonely..

Burning Spice Cookies finds it so endearing whenever you fawn over his combat style and his warmth. He trained this way specifically for you, so don't think you can just tease him by running off afterwards.

Mystic Flour Cookie always enjoys how you compliment her magic and skills. Be it simple acts to impress you or things more grand, it gets her heart racing, incredibly so. Just don't expect her to be so restrictive whenever you're gone..

While Silent Salt Cookie rarely speaks, it's easy to tell how he flourishes under your praise and compliments. It always leaves him aching for more, but out of all the Beasts, he does have some suspicions about where you go whenever you leave. But he couldn't care less. Just keep on praising him..

[randomfoggytiger]

React: "Return to Me" (from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs, Part VII): Scars and Hearts, Dining and Dashing

We're back, let's go!

**Note**: Editing later, brb.

Bob is deterred from further work instructions by his workers' "we got it all done" even if they don't know what it was they got all done. It's time to clock out, let them live.

The new enclosure's done-- Sydney gets a new cage, woo.

Some guy named Fennington is going to do the speech and apparently that's mock worthy. Forgot who that was, maybe old man at the party (in Part I) or one of the boardroom guys (in Part II?)

"Elizabeth would love that, huh?" Charlie quips.

"She would've loved this."

"You did it."

"Took me long enough."

Love how Bonnie Hunt sets aside time for characters to celebrate each other-- the restaurant, the bowling alley, and now the construction completion. It makes this world feel homey, lived in.

Charlie picks up that Grace is playing at something; but he thinks it's long-term teasing rather than her being scar-shy. To be fair, no one but she and her family (and Megan-Bonnie and her husband-- who are practically family anyway) know about the scar thing.

The mock turtle soup line DOES play into this but not directly as Charlie asserts: "This is a game that all women play just to reel us in."

And that could be true-- for the women Charlie surrounds himself with, who want to play rather than settle down. But Grace isn't like that; but he doesn't know she's not like that. And he's worried about how hard Bob has fallen for her, especially how quickly.

"Well, it's working."

"You are so sad."

Bob calls Charlie Sammie Sosa-- brb, gotta research him because the kids went HAM and chased his pal across the park. ...'Kay, so he was a Chicago White Sox player big enough to be on a baseball card. That explains that, though I'm outta the baseball card loop (and baseball.)

Megan-Bonnie still insists that Grace tell him about the heart surgery; and is adoring of her chaotic, salt-of-the-earth Joe man.

Bob's getting prepped for "the talk" Grace promised-- which includes messing up the microwave over and over to make popcorn.

He does know how to make popcorn, guys.

He does.

He says so while grabbing the popcorn back out to rip off the plastic wrapper he'd forgotten to take off.

He brought up the writeup on his wife's tribute coming up.

The magic fingers worked: the popcorn will now pop once the safety guidelines have been followed. A miracle.

I guess affectionately slapping your dog off the couch is the next order of importance. I mean, he's a dog who likes it, so that's kind of tempting.

Enclosure talk time. Bob's proud and relieved and feels like a weight is off his back. And a bit of closure as well....

3/4 angst mark here we COME.

Grace understands and compliments him on his hard work.

"Yeah, but it's been worth it... to make Elizabeth's dream come true. At least I could do that for her."

"I'm sure she's very proud of you."

That's such. an amazing compliment.

Unlocked: Bob will remember that.

"Thank you, Grace." DD, perfect line delivery: a breathy exhale more than a word. A sentiment instead of a sentence. Validation and understanding.

Grace is saved by the bell (the microwave timer); and Bob reads the room, backing off and giving her space to recuperate.

And, of course, this is when Grace stumbles across the letter.

Her letter.

I knew this plot point was coming, here we go.

A furthering of the gag: Bob burns his hand on the hot popcorn... in a bowl?? Bob, you put the popped microwave packet in a bowl???? Are you okay--

They're all burned and Bob's discouraged.

Bob--

Bob, what.

Bob's spraying the popcorn demons away. Please tell me that's-- IS THAT WINDEX.

What's peak comedy about this is the scene's done in complete silence other than the kitchen banging and spritz sounds, perfectly cutting back and forth with Grace/Minnie's unraveling revelation upstairs.

Grace reads the paper, sees Elizabeth's death date, and starts making gruesome connections.

Yuuuuuuuuuuup, she just saw the letter.

Yuppity yupperoo.

She books it, making up a babysitting excuse.

Bob tries to help put on Grace's coat even if she's already whipping it on herself. It's the little touches that, to me, are unintentionally hilarious and also really endearing.

She's wheelin' outta there even if parts of her bike are breaking; and both of them are chattering-- she to avoid conversation, he to engage it.

Bob's as perplexed as any reasonable man would be. Maybe she smelled the popcorn upstairs, BOB.

He trails her out, maneuvering the bike down the steps and catching a few extra seconds with his gal pal. Bob is still chattering, wanting to lighten Grace's stress as much as possible.

All his solutions and questions are brushed away as she zooms off.

He's smitten... but he's also thinkin'.

Survivor's guilt kicking in.

"What was God thinking??" got a chuckle out of me.

Megan/Bonnie is all for transparency and honesty but can't say the complicated truth herself. Great characterization.

Joe walking in and knowing someone died and misinterpreting everything and wanting to fight Bob is both why Megan loves and wants to strangle him.

Megan blurts it out.

Joe: "He's not married? ...Oh, okay." That's good enough for him.

Joe's great.

Grandpa is making plans for Grace to go alone to Rome since that's what she thinks will make it easier for Bob to process.

It's the day of reckoning.

Bob pops in, greeting both of them cheerfully; and charmingly adds, "Hey Gracie, close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to open them."

Marty gives her some advice-- the strongest character gets the hardest challenges-- doing his best to uplift her by twisting lemons into lemonade.

Bob got her a new bike because her other one was a bunch of busted bolts. Ooooooooh, isn't that always how it goes in movies? Make it just that gut-punch a hair tougher, why don't ya?

A touched and pained cry-- I like it, Minnie Driver, I like it a lot.

Bob even made a trumpet noise to celebrate.

Bob I'm sorry I ever doubted you if our journey led up to this trumpet noise.

Those chipmunk cheeks of happiness won't last, Bob. Enjoy your mood while you may.

"You okay? I was worried about you last night."

"I'm going away."

"What?"

"I'm going away."

"Why?"

Minnie/Grace reveals what she didn't have the courage to tell him sooner, leading up to her admittance of surgery last year.

Bob's radar fears are up; but he has no idea what's coming. (But WE do, heheheh.) His posture is slightly turtled back: stomach tucked in, shoulders hunched, preparing for the worst (nice acting chops)--

but EXPLODES forward in relief at the heart transplant news.

He flings out the quickest joke he can think of that's farthest away from his true fears: "I thought you were gonna say you were a man or something." Which is the least detached way of expressing unbearable relief.

Then he immediately jumps back like Minnie/Grace feared he would: "Am I hurting you??" His face then cycles from worry to panic to lessening anxiety ("You're okay now?") to saturating, processing relief ("You're fine. You're healed."); and, finally, to mild but reasonable reproof ("You could have told me that....")

Apparently, Tumblr's decided I've had too much fun and is making me cut off there.

Will continue as soon as I can.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[hopecountyisforlovers]

stars;

rating: general

pairing: john pruitt x ezra wilson

words: 1026

summary: idk what possessed me to write 1k words of just straight up tooth rotting diabetes inducing fluff but. oh wait. i do know what possessed me. it was the love. i am in love. send help

----------x----------

The orange reflection shines in John's eyes, so possessed he is with enjoying the beauty that God has laid out in front of him no matter how many times he's seen it, a beatific smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ezra had kissed that mouth over and over, unquantifiable; he is hungry to do it again. Not right this minute, though- he is sure he will have his moment. In this moment, the earth vibrates warmly underneath his back, able to be felt even through the thick, soft weave of the blanket underneath them, and everything seems to hum; the small heartbeats of the things that live in the woods and the radiant bursts of the stars overhead and the gentle sound of water saying hello to the shore the eternal chorus that sings of their love. In this moment, he is fed. "It's beautiful, isn't it? So beautiful. A blessing."

His voice is quiet, so quiet- Ezra is in awe of the ways he can be quiet, how his voice like silk and honey can slip through him and shake him when it is no higher than a whisper. He can't help himself, like he often can't- his hand rises to cup his husbands' cheek, as delicate as the sound of him. Those eyes widen, still reflecting circles where the moonlight fills them, and underneath his hand his lover thrums without thrumming. He is hungry again. "Yeah, you are."

John's eyelashes flutter, eyes darting away, a telltale sign of his endearing lack of experience in being complimented- he would be flushed if he still could be. A pink tongue darts out to moisten his lips, a puff of breath into the air that Ezra can taste him on right alongside the sweet pollen in the warm summer breeze. "Am I really more impressive to look at than the stars?"

"Without a doubt," The surety of his answer draws a little shudder from the man beside him that he can feel in the air it displaces between their bodies, and a large hand has landed on Ezra's bare chest, still damp from their half-clothed dip in the nearby lake. There is no heartbeat for that hand to seek- and yet he can almost feel the phantom of one, untethered in his chest, out of control in a way that distinctly fit the human he no longer was, beating against his rib cage as a silent part of the symphony of sound and light that surrounds them, "The stars belong to everyone. You were made- perfect, lovely, you- were made just for me."

The hand on his chest slides up, slipping through the waves of his chestnut hair where it falls loose around his face, to draw the back of his hand across his cheek. The touch is as reverent as his voice when he speaks, low and soft. Ezra knows that he is speaking to him as much as he isn't, that he echoes his sentiment- they had been put here for each other, to be exactly where they are now. "Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you have bestowed on my life. You have provided me with more than I could ever have imagined. Let me never go a day without cherishing the things you have given me, so that others may see you are good. Amen."

When their mouths meet, as they were destined to, on the tail end of an amen, the feeling is as it always is- that of two halves becoming a whole, of stepping foot into a comfortable home with love built into the very foundation. Ezra thinks that maybe he could do this forever, if not for the eventual threat of the morning sun- still, the night is young yet. Their tongues slip and slide together, a dance both familiar and in step and yet new and all-consuming, and the taste of saccharine iron and the tang of salt drips between them, evidence of the taken communion that fuels them. They are wound into each other, bodies curving together close and fingers tangling in hair, and only in the most vital sense of the word they are alive, alive, alive.

There is no need for air that breaks them apart, as there never is, and yet still they break all the same, panting for breaths they don't require out of pure muscle memory. Maybe it has to be that way- maybe they are each the only drug the other could overdose on, if left to their own devices. The theory only continues to form in him as those same lips cascade across his array of freckles, drawing constellations in them that only John will ever see in between heavenly exhalations of Ezra, My Ezra, My Love, My One, My Only- he feels positively high, rapturous, the feeling bubbling up and out of him in laughter that bounces out over the water like a skipped rock. His fingernails find scalp under so many dark curls, lavishing it with gentle scratches that turn the exhalations into purrs and then into a soft, continuous hum as John pushes into his hand like an especially large house cat.

"I could go another day if I never saw the stars again, you know." It bursts its way out of him, with how they're touching now, with how it flows between them, with how John nestles in against his body, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths mingling. "I'd miss them, but I'd survive. Without you? There is no me without you. Not anymore. You're the only starlight I need."

The nickname wrings another drop of shyness from him, but he doesn't look away this time, instead smiling in a way one could only describe as bashful, nuzzling their noses together. If he could still die, it would be the death of him. "Careful, angel. You'll give me a God complex at this rate."

"Well I hope so! That's what I've been aiming for. You gotta let me know when I'm close."

They both dissolve into laughter, stars radiant overhead and moon round in the sky, until the laughter is swallowed by another kiss.

[shangchiswife]

mandalorian- caretaker

before i start i made this fic a VERY long time ago and I kinda edited it to make it better but I apologize if it's cringy.

summary: you made breakfast for Din and Grogu

din djarin x gn! reader

warnings: none

It was early morning and the sun had barely risen yet. You were on the Mandalorian's ship preparing breakfast for Grogu and him.

You had been hired by him in order to take care of Grogu while he was off on missions.

The Mandalorian had just woken up and gotten dressed when he saw you in the kitchen with a bunch of ingredients surrounding you. Your eyebrows were furrowed with concentration.

"Good morning," he mumbled as you twisted around and offered him a warm smile.

"Hey Mando," you said sweetly using his nickname as you started cracking two eggs on a pan. It immediately sizzled.

"What's all this, what are you doing, Y/N?" he asked a little harshly which you ignored.

You knew that he most probably didn't mean it. He was just like that being a Mandalorian and all.

"Just decided to make you breakfast too, you know I don't ONLY care about Grogu right?" you looked at him briefly and gave him a small smile before returning to salting and spicing the eggs.

Din blushed underneath his mask.

He'd secretly taken a liking to you after you stayed with him and Grogu when only few people stayed by his side.

"Do you like your eggs scrambled?" you asked him.

"Yeah... it's fine," he said while examining your every move.

"I'll add some cheese to make it even tastier," you muttered while sprinkling shredded cheese over the eggs. The cheese melted quickly.

"Alright," he said while sitting down at a table.

You gave him a thumbs up without taking your eyes off the eggs and started to scramble the eggs with a spatula.

He didn't say anything but simply watched as you slid the eggs into a plate. He thought you to be extremely skilled.

"Bon appetit!" you said in French, handing the plate to him which he took.

Someone had said that when you were at a fancy French restaurant back on Earth when you were sixteen. You were with your friends, and you all ate ratatouille for dinner and for dessert you had delicious macarons.

You smiled at that memory. But then the smile faded away quickly as you remembered the wonderful memories you had on Earth. Until that stupid gang kidnapped you and shipped you into space.

Oh, how you missed Earth. Everything was edible there and most of the food was delicious. There wasn't as much war and violence as there was here. There was so much life, greenery, and nature there as well. And your family was there. Sure, Mando and Grogy were like your family, but they just couldn't replace your parents and other family members.

"What does that mean, I'm not familiar with that language," the Mandalorian admitted.

"Of course, you wouldn't know French, it's a language from Earth, but anyways it means to enjoy your meal," you gave him another smile.

He blushed again and gave a nervous smile under his mask.

"Croo," a little voice cooed.

"Baby!" you squealed as you saw little Grogu waddling slowly towards you. You ran over to him picked him up and tossed him in the air a couple of times.

Grogu giggled. So did you as you twirled him in the air like you were soaring in the air.

The Mandalorian smiled underneath his mask and while you weren't watching he lifted his mask up so he could eat the eggs you made for him. He instantly devoured it because it was THAT delicious.

After he ate, he quickly put down his mask, so his face wasn't visible again.

"Those were delicious eggs, Y/N," he complimented.

You put the baby down. He gave a coo of displeasure because he was having fun.

"Awww really," you were flattered and put your hand on your chest then grinned at him.

"I could do better with chicken eggs but we're not on Earth," you shrugged your shoulders and a sad feeling washed over you.

What's a chicken? he thought but shook his head at that thought.

"Din," he said loudly.

"What?" you asked confused while carrying Grogu to his little high chair.

"That's my name, Din Djarin," he spoke again as you brought the baby's breakfast to him.

"It's a beautiful name," you said while spoon-feeding "The Child" his meal. You gave Din a small smile. His heart warmed up.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said as he watched you feed the child.

He knew that you would stay by him no matter what. No matter the consequences. And soon he would ask you to be his partner. And he vowed that he would take you back to Earth. And the two of you would explore the beautiful land you've talked about together.

[kkusuka]

can i request s/o going up to kuroo, iwa, semi, sakusa and osamu after the match which their respective teams have won and they lifted s/o up for a cute hug but s/o accidentally gets too carried away and starts kissing them in front of their team members? lmao and bonus for nsfw ending please! thank you!

they get a kiss kiss

this reminded me of the i love u *muah* *muah* *muah*  tiktok

(i have no idea why this was so hard to write, and it’s kinda bad, sorry)

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo wasn't afraid of showing you off by any means

Especially when that snake was watching, so he was open arms when you ran up to him after the game

just a regular hug? After that?

No that won’t do at all

Regular hugs were for practice games and games they were a shoo-in to win, this game was fit for something more…….

He picked you up (groped your ass for good measure, and spun you like a superhero.

That’s what this game called for

According to you this game also called for a kiss, a deep one in fact

Then after, multiple little kisses in between the compliments and praises about how “amazingly amazing” he was

He was vaguely aware of kenma gag motion and lev’s disappointed sigh, but he wasn’t really too focused on that right now.

He was in-fact focused on how you were subconsciously grinding on him

And the way that when you put your arms around his neck and played with the hairs on the back of his neck

(bonus if you grope him back)

He could also feel his dick straining against his boxers

He liked where this was going

“You’re playing a dangerous game kitten-”

“What? I don't recall doing anything bad at all!”

Oh, you were playing that game?

Let’s see how that one holds up later.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwa just gets carried away when he’s excited

Who could really blame him though?

They were going to the finals, that was something worthy of excitement.

And apparently, you thought so too, considering the way you jumped into his arms as soon as he got close enough

He lifted you up, hands under your ass keeping you stable

And you just couldn't help yourself, you were so happy and he was all smiley  

Which meant his cheeks god all round, and all-round cheeks deserve a squish and a kiss

Maybe more than one kiss

Maybe more than a few

At that point it was too far gone, cheek kisses turn into little pecks on the lips, which then became a slight make-out session

I mean he wasn't complaining, Oikawa was, but he was not

But apparently making out in the middle of a hallway with other teenagers and some children, was not ideal

Specifically when the mothers of said children tell you not to be inappropriate.

This kiss might have been cut off, but the kiss he gave you as he ripped off your shorts was much longer

So was the goodnight kiss after he had fucked you out of reality.

Semi Eita

Semi is an impulse kind of guy

He asked you out on impulse

(in the middle of the hallway after you helped him pick up some papers that he let fall)

You had your first kiss on impulse

(at a festival fireworks show, he just looked at you and you looked back and he smashed his lips to yours)

And you seemed to be picking up on his impulsive nature, and to say the least, he was proud.

But impulse meeting even worse simple plus excitement

Equals a head-but

But that didn't even stop him, other than the slight whip-lash, he yanked you off the ground and into his arms

And spinning the both of you round and round until he was dizzy

And just like your first kiss, you grabbed his cheeks and kissed the hell out of your happy boyfriend

He'd be crazy not to kiss back, and that’s when poor goshiki tapped out

Surprise surprise, he spun you around again, then lack of air pulled the two of you apart

“We won”

“Haha I know eita, and I’m happy. But let's get back to our previous activities”

And you did, for the rest of the night

And into the morning

Hen when you woke back up <3

Sakusa Kiyoomi

honestly, PDA is a no go

Like ever

But on certain occasions he’s just…… shocked

In these subtle moments, he just forgets the world

So when they advanced to the national finals, he became slug-like just looking around like it was his first day on earth

And you have this amazing talent of taking him out of this trance

You are also the only person that he will hug, take that with a grain of salt

He loves you but he doesn't love the five people sitting around you who didn't wash their hands within the last ten minutes

(but as I said before after wins like that he doesn't even think about how gross everyone is)

He’s too busy thinking about how you're running up to him and pressing your face in his chest and making the smiling face that he loves looking at

He barely feels you tapping his arm for him to pick you up, but when you jump up he catches you like always

And before he can say anything you're eating his lips

And hell they just won, might as well indulge in it

(and he can practically hear Miya yelling about how girls always go for the assholes, yeah he’s busy thinking about how nice your ass feels against his hand)

He can already see Komori doing the eyebrow wiggle at him but he’ll just have to do it tomorrow

He’s gonna be busy tonight

Osamu Miya

Surprisingly PDA was a common thing between the two of you

Honestly with a brother like atsumu he wanted to drown as much as the real world out as he possibly could

And if that meant having his tongue down your throat half the day, he sure wasn't complaining

So an after the game kiss was pretty normal for you two

To be specific- a KISS

What was happening right now was definitely not a simple kiss

It had started with a simple kiss in your defense, but now you were being lifted onto his hips

This was more like a middle of a party full-blown make-out session

And maybe if the two of you were more tuned into your surrounding area you would hear Atsumu yelling at you to stop sucking each other faces

Or you would see that suna was taking pictures-

(suna can shove those up his ass- Osamu Miya, 2021. About him and his s/o eating each other faces)

Maybe he’ll send Suna a picture of you sucking his dick later

(he didn’t but he was really thinking about it, if he wanted a picture he should have just asked)

But since he can't just take off all; your clothes right now, he’ll settle for later

And tomorrow morning

Maybe the afternoon

Then back to tomorrow night  

[kiki-shortsnout]

Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.

Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD

Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!

Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!

***

‘Do you regret it?’

Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.

‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.

‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.

‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’

His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.

Magical or not.

Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.

It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.

‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.

‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’

‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.

‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.

‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’

‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’

Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.

‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.

‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.

Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.

Strange had a big enough head already.

‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.

He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.

‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.

Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.

Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.

‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’

The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’

‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.

‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’

Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.

Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?

‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.

‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.

Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.

He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.

‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.

Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.

‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.

‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’

Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.

‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’

Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.

‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.

‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.

He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.

This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.

For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 12

Cult girl deals with an unexpected and unwelcome guest.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, infidelity, threats of violence

Step three: kill Anna

So maybe there was an understanding that the pregnancy was to be kept secret from Anna.

The withdrawal of Archie and Max from the picture left a hole in the plan. Just when it looked like you had secured that much-needed victory, it shriveled up and died right before your eyes. That much was certain. Everything else was a big question mark.

Ever since he felt the baby kicking, Hannibal became even more hopelessly enamored with the idea of being a father. He never mentioned it, of course, but it was there. It was there in the way he cooed at your stomach and how his hand lingered after he felt a kick. He was in heaven.

For a few days, it looked like the downward trajectory was beginning to flatten. Then you remembered your favorite line from Ryan Reynolds' Deadpool:

"Life is an endless series of trainwrecks with only brief, commercial-like breaks of happiness." You repeated to yourself as your phone flashed Theresa's call icon.

It took you a minute to remember that Theresa in your phone was actually Anna, because you hadn't bothered to change it. In a way, it was symbolic. Theresa was the head you cut off, and Anna sprouted up in her place. All in the pursuit of making your life unbearable.

You pulled the toothbrush from your mouth and placed it next to the sink. Lazily, you brought the phone to your ear. "What?"

"Hey pretty girl!" Anna said, using her most transparently fake cheery voice. "How's it going?"

Then it clicked. You felt kind of stupid that you didn't see it coming. In the world of cults, this was known as 'lovebombing'; a manipulation tactic in which the cult leader showers their target with affection, compliments, validation or anything that would make them associate good feelings with the group. In any other context, it would be called 'ass-kissing'.

You narrowed your eyes in skepticism. "What do you want?"

"Jeez, who crapped in your corn flakes?" She scoffed. "Can't a girl just call her little sister to say hi?"

It would have been one thing to say 'cousin', which, despite your bad blood, would have been technically accurate. But 'sister' was crossing a line. The blood that binded you and Anna together was thinner than water.

"We're not sisters, Anna." You corrected. "Why are you calling?"

"I just wanted to let you know that all is forgiven." She said, slipping back into that phony cheerful tone. "That little fiasco at the funeral, it's water under the bridge."

What Anna didn't know was that the water under the bridge was never water, but gasoline. Every drop that flowed under that bridge only created a more dangerous blaze for when you finally burned it down.

"Awesome." You said, flatly.

"I also wanted to say, 'may the best woman win'." She jeered. "I don't want to alarm you, but Liam and I have been fucking like bunnies."

You gagged. "I'm not alarmed but I certainly didn't need to know that."

"I've been keeping track of my ovulation," She disregarded your objection and continued the conversation she wanted to have. "And I even put child locks on the computer so Liam can't watch porn. Can't spare even a drop, y'know. It's too crucial."

"I will literally let you have the entire inheritance if you please just shut up right now." You said through gritted teeth.

"Oh?" She perked up. "Come on, don't give up. Don't make it too easy. Winning is just more fun when someone else loses."

She was growing into her Theresa shoes quite well.

"Seriously, though," You raised your eyebrows. "If it means I never have to see you again, by all means. Take the damn money."

"You know I love you, right?" Anna blurted out, pretending to be offended. "You may not think so, but I love you like a sister."

Again, you fought the urge to feel bad for her. Her model of sisterly love was Theresa. She could use the word to invoke sympathy, but would never know what it meant. It hit your ear exactly the same as when fundamentalist christian strangers said they loved you and that's why they were harassing you. Just an empty annoyance.

You rolled your eyes. "Goodbye, Anna."

"Wait!" She shouted as if she was about to die.

You threw your head back in exasperation. "What?!"

"I wanted to give you a little good-luck gift." She said.

You were slightly interested. "Oh?"

"Yes." She answered. "Can I swing by and drop it off later?"

You sighed. "Whatever. As long as you make it fast."

You were most certainly noticeably pregnant, but a fluffy robe obscured any misplaced curves just enough. You just hoped she wouldn't ask why you were wearing a fluffy robe in July. Anna arrived at the house, with Liam, who was holding a small basket of colorful jars and bottles.

You waited a minute to see if she would just leave the basket on the porch, but she didn't. You resignedly opened the door.

"[F/N]!" She shouted with that hyper-enthusiastic smile. You cringed, trying not to let her presence trigger your morning sickness.

The smile disappeared from her face. "Jesus H, you look like hell."

You desperately wanted to inform her that it was the strain of growing a human inside your body, but you held your tongue and thought of an excuse.

"I'm hungover." You said. Yeah, that would work.

"The usual, I see." Anna snipped at you under her breath.

You eyed the basket. You didn't even bother to mask your disappointment when you realized it wasn't food. "What's this?"

"Oh, this?" Anna said as if she were starting a sales pitch. "This is my olive branch. My exclusive DoTERRA fertility rejuvenation kit."

Your brain refused to process that Anna had been sucked in to an MLM, as it was really only a matter of time. You just didn't think it would take this long.

"Dude, you're twenty-nine and I'm twenty-six." You narrowed your eyes at her. "What on earth are we rejuvenating?"

She pointed to a collection of little bottles. "So these are for the initial cleanse. Put a few drops of this in your food, and some of this in your bathwater-"

She rattled on with practiced certainty about the fictitious health benefits of thyme and geranium oils, how they promote fertility and whatnot.

"Thanks, Anna." You cut her off, reaching for the gift basket. You didn't intend to use any of it, but you could pawn it off on some struggling hunbot for less than they would buy it new.

Anna pulled the basket out of your reach. "Oh. I wasn't giving it to you."

Nothing surprised you anymore, and this was no exception. "I thought you said it was a gift?"

"Oh, god no." She shook her head. "This whole kit costs, like, five hundred dollars."

You grimaced. "So you came here to show me your snake oil collection?"

"I came here to tell you in person about this amazing business opportunity." She said, returning to her fake smile. "For just $1000, you can be part of this amazing company-"

"Anna, what am I studying right now?" You cut her off.

She looked at you with round, clueless eyes. She looked back at Liam for help. He tapped his head to give her a hint.

"I want to say..." her voice trailed off. "...brain surgery?"

You shook your head. "No. Liam?"

"Clinical psychology with a specialization in cults." He answered. "You want to be the next Steven Hassan."

Anna didn't deserve Liam.

"So you're saying you're too smart for me?" Anna said, crossing her arms. "You're too busy going to your fancy college, living with your fancy boyfriend to support your own sister's hustle?"

"I'm saying you're in a cult." You countered. "A pretty obvious one, at that."

"Oh, when your only solution is a hammer every problem looks like a nail." She scoffed. "You think everything is a cult. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'll be happy for you when you accomplish something that isn't built off the backs of people you fucked over." You said, allowing yourself to finally snap.

Anna's jaw hung open. "Do I even need to gesture to this house? Those clothes? That degree? All paid for by your rich boyfriend."

It's time.

You stepped on to the porch and shut the door behind you. "Liam. I have something to tell you."

Liam handed the basket off to Anna and approached. "Alright."

"No she doesn't, Liam." Anna objected. "Don't listen to her. You know she's a liar."

"Liam." You said, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember Nathan Sparks?"

"Anna's ex from college?" Liam folded his arms and looked at his wife. "Vaguely."

Anna gritted her teeth at you. "I swear to fucking god, [F/N]-"

"Anna, stop." Liam cut her off. "Let her speak."

"Anna continued to see him for two years after you got together." You smirked.

Liam's dial-up internet brain sputtered to life.

"Oh my god." His mouth hung open. "...is he 'pineapple'?!"

"Nope." You said. "You are."

"Is this true, Anna?" Liam said, in the overlap between denial and anger. "Did you keep seeing Nathan after we got together?"

Anna threw the basket on the ground, jars shattering, releasing a noxious cloud of concentrated snake oil. She was too busy glaring daggers at you to answer her husband.

"Fine. Don't tell me." He spat, turning back to you. "I'll hear it from you, [F/N]. You're the only one in this family who's been honest with me."

"She only wanted to get with you because your uncle is CEO of that publishing house." You added. You felt bad for essentially rubbing salt in the wound, but he was right to assume he wouldn't hear it from anyone else.

He placed his hand over his head as if to nurse a migrane. "How could I be so stupid..."

"Liam-" Anna said, her voice jumping a few octaves.

Liam put up his hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"I'm sorry, Lee." You offered. Even though you loved seeing Anna caught, you felt bad for every person she victimized along the way. Liam was no exception.

He dropped his shoulders and sighed. "Thank you, [F/N]. I'll be out of your way, now. Anna--"

He stopped himself, presumably to avoid saying something he would regret. "...find your own way home."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, leaving Anna with you.

"Thanks for coming." You sneered at her, feeling around behind you for the door handle. "I'd call an uber if I were you."

"You twisted bitch." She scowled, hands hovering in your direction. "You just get off on ruining people's lives, don't you?"

"Oof, that's some serious projection, Anna." You said, unconsciously untying the belt of your robe and pulling it off your shoulders.

"You're-" She sputtered, her eyes growing to the size of personal pizzas. "You're fucking pregnant?!"

Shit. You thought, cycling through whatever braincells you had left for an idea of how to play this off as if you meant to do it.

"Surprise." You shrugged. Yeah, that would work.

"That's impossible!" She stammered. "You're- you're not even married!"

"Grandma never said anything about marriage." You grinned.

Anna struggled to find her words. "That is unfair!"

"So now that you're not winning, the game is unfair?" You raised an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips and pointed at you. "You aren't going to get away with this."

"Just like you didn't get away with cheating on your husband?" You taunted.

"I'm serious, [F/N]." Anna said, backing down the porch steps. "I will destroy everything you love just like you did to me."

For a half a second, the voice in your head told you to beware, that the threat should be taken seriously. Upon remembering it was coming from Anna, you pushed the thought from your mind.

You shouldn't have.

[passivenovember]

I love to read anything with vulnerable billy! 🥺

Kitschy, Campy, and Kooky: Pillowcases from Beyond the Veil.

Day Four: Sunglasses

--

Part One: Rockwell

His mother got into patterning and draping only hours, it seemed, before she disappeared from his life. Her slim, pale fingers cutting and measuring fabric. Sewing strips together and leaving room for true craftsmanship, hands shaking even as the bruises on her arms were laid to rest.

Billy’s mother started out easy, with fleece blankets and cushion covers that complimented the wallpaper in their living room; mustard yellow and fern green and burnt orange. Colors that brought fall raining down from the heavens on even the hottest days of summer.

Autumn was their favorite. Autumn meant snuggling up to watch I Was a Teenage Werewolf and Bewitched, Billy’s eyes drooping closed as his mother read the Archie comics to him under blankets that had little pumpkins and candy corns on them.

Autumn was magical.

Autumn was firewood and hot chocolate and bat shaped fairy lights above the hole in the wall. Halloween. That was always Billy’s favorite.

His mother started sewing pillow cases after Neil caught him sucking his thumb the first time.

It was Autumn. Just before Halloween, or maybe right after. The sky was thick with rain and fog and they were happy.

Happy things never lived long, in their house, for it had to be cultivated. Watered and fertilized. No, their happiness was locked away in a dark room, only to be brought out and held when the house was empty.

They didn’t have enough money in the bank that year to buy a new pillow case, after Billy’s shield was torn to pieces, but they had fabric. Shelves and dressers full of the stuff, spilling out from between the tinges of pain in his cheek.

Neil slammed through the front door and Billy’s mother tried to fix what had been broken.

She got on her knees and straightened his Addams Family pajamas. Took his hands and tried to get him to look her in the eye. “Pick out whatever you want,” She said. His mother’s voice sounded like running water, like swelling rivers. “I have every color. What kind of print do you want, Billy?”

But Billy couldn’t move.

His feet had grown roots, travelling through the hardwood floor and down into the basement. Past his mother’s cutting table and beyond her sewing machine, into the depths of the Earth.

Billy felt himself sinking. Felt himself be buried alive, as his mother rubbed the backs of his hands and tried to bring their happiness back out into the light.

--

The pillowcase was purple. Just close enough to pink that Billy knew his father would tear it to shreds if he ever saw it himself, but the shade was also mysterious. Blue, like the raging seas during a hurricane. Dark and spooky and smooth like silk against his skin, but also happy, too.

Autumn themed.

Halloween themed, with little bats wearing sunglasses.

“So you can had a slice of your two favorite times of the year, all at once. Summer and Fall, too.” His mother said. She gave Billy the chance to enjoy his gift by hiding the case in plain sight, as the flip side to a slate gray monstrosity that reminded Billy of Neil. Of the eyes, that were always watching.

Billy loved his pillowcase.

Through November and into Yule. Past frozen rivers and into spring, when his mother’s sewing machine disappeared.

--

Part Two: Bates

The pillowcase was a puzzle Steve knew he was never going to solve.

The fabric was worn thin. Torn and fraying along the seams and sporting a rip down one side, the result of hundreds and thousands of nights in bed with a boy who slept with a pillow cradled against his chest.

Steve wondered if the hideous thing knew how much it was loved.

If it had counted the times Billy had lugged it around the house and on road trips, bearing witness to the battles Steve had lost in trying to suggest they have it replaced with something that didn’t have to be pieced together so it would seem whole.

He hated those bats, too, with their smug little faces. Watching from behind designer sunglasses as Steve tried to pry them loose so he could be closer to Billy. So he could take their place.

Steve would never take their place, it seemed.

He didn’t know why, didn’t understand why, until he came home one afternoon to find Billy on the floor.

Crying, on the floor, or. Dry heaving.

The tears had long since dried, gifting tacky, salt-slug lines down his cheeks as Steve’s husband gripped a long, bat covered piece of fabric in both hands.

“It ripped.” Billy's voice was hollow. Empty. “It tore in half. I didn’t think it would do that, I through maybe I could stitch it back together every time it fell apart, I thought I would be able to keep her with me for a little while longer, I--”

“--Bills--”

“I wasn’t ready for this.” Billy said wildly, clutching the fabric to his tear stained cheek. “I’m not ready for this.”

“It was an old pillowcase, sweetheart, you had to know it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“She’s gone.”

Steve frowned, crouching on the floor in front of him. “Who’s gone, baby?”

Billy’s mouth worked for a long time around words that ended up on the cutting room floor. He trembled, barely letting Steve get an arm around him, as the truth came tumbling out.

“My mama.” He said quietly. “My mama gave it to me.”

“She did.”

“Yeah, she made it for me. Before she left, she said.” Billy chuckled, thick and wet. “She told me it would keep me safe.”

Steve rubbed a hand down Billy’s arm, nodding against a flood of realization. “Yeah, well. She could’ve kept you safe, Bills. She could’ve done that, instead of leaving you with that fucking monster--”

“Can you just.” Billy tangled a piece of purple fabric around one hand. “Can you hold me?”

Steve sat on the ground next to him, and. Tried to understand it.

--

Coaxing Billy to sleep and failing, day after day, was what made him sign up for the class.

Steve had been hoping the rec center would provide sewing machines. That he wouldn’t have to call Joyce and ask five hundred questions about shit he couldn’t possibly understand. Like presser foots and cutting tables and rounded stencils, and--

“Why don’t you come by the house?” She said. “I could teach you for free.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure.” Joyce sounded like she was smiling. “I’m free on Thursdays.”

Part Three: Curdle

Autumn was Billy’s favorite time of year for a lot of reasons.

The pumpkins, maybe. Most of all. Boozy apple cider with granny smith juice and far too much cinnamon that made their limbs loose and heavy. Cuddling up on the couch  to watch Hocus Pocus and Thriller. Trying to learn the dance moves, and. Crying from laughter when they couldn’t learn the dance moves.

And Steve.

Steve Harrington in warm, mustard colored sweaters and beanies pulled far too low over his eyebrows to ward off the chill when he came home from work, trailing the smell of haze-covered trees and maple sugar donuts after him.

He was holding a box, that afternoon.

An orange and black cardboard thing with a bow on top. “Open it.” Steve said, with that glint in his eye.

That glint did a lot of things to Billy. “How come?”

“Because I made you something.”

Billy’s eyebrows shot toward the sky. “You made something? Like a craft?”

Steve shrugged, wind-chilled cheeks turning pink and bright. “Maybe so.” He said softly. And then, “Open in.” Because they weren’t getting any younger.

Billy tore the wrapping paper carefully.

He liked to save it, folded neatly in the holiday section of their basement. Liked to rifle through the discarded coverings when he wanted to find the perfect pattern for--

“It took months to find the fabric.” Steve muttered. “They discontinued it sometime in the late 70s, but Joyce knew someone in town who used to stockpile the shit, so.”

“Steve--”

“It cost an arm and a leg but I wanted to make it up to you.” Steve took Billy’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing soft over the tears that had appeared there. “I wanted to show that you’re safe now, Billy. With me. That even though you don’t need a piece of fabric to protect you, anymore, it’s still nice to have. Even though it’s not the one your mom made.”

The bats smiled up at him, and it was perfect.

Purple. Just close enough to the pink of Steve’s cheeks that Billy knew it was better than the one that had come before because of what it meant. Dark and twinkling like a sky full of stars. Soft and spooky and smooth like silk against his skin, but also happy, too.

So happy.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 6)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 6: beautiful songs always end

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! we are so near to the end. only one chapter left!!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of pregnancy and miscarriage 

word count: 1.8k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 5   chapter 7

It was the first Monday of September, the beginning of an eleven-day affair, that is, TIFF. The air was slightly chilly in Toronto but full of possibilities. It was Y/N’s first time at a major film festival. Her film was to screen on the second day. The main cast and the director were invited to MTV’s opening night party. Just an ordinary girl between Hollywood’s A-listers, saying she was intimidated, was the understatement of the year.

The party was at a downtown bar. All her friends had left her alone, well, the other two people who were attending the festivities with her. The only place she could find to calm her nerves was the bar.

Two old fashions will do the trick.

She ordered both of them together, saving her the time. She was about to finish her first drink when she picked up her second, with the first glass still on her lips. Her eyes were shut with the pleasure of a burn in her throat by the whiskey.

“Easy tiger”, a grinning Harrison said, standing by her side, resting his arm on the bar counter.

She laughed in her glass, Y/N opened her eyes to see who said it.

“Oh my god, you’re Harrison. I watched your movie today, it was so good”

His ocean blue eyes really pop in that navy shirt.

His grin turned into an unadulterated smile filling his face, his cheeks turning red from the compliment. “Thanks”

Y/N picked her drink number two again, “and you might be?” Haz asked.

“I’m Y/N, enchanté”, she raised her hand to meet his.

“Are you here with a movie too?” He seemed genuinely interested.

“Yeah, I’m the lead in a little indie movie called ‘Midnight Love’”, she pinched the air, a gesture to show how small the movie was.

“No way! When can I catch it?” his excitement was noted.

“It’s screening some time tomorrow morning I guess, I’m not sure”

“Can I give you my number so that you could text me with the time of the screening? I would love to see it”

“Yeah sure”, she handed him her phone.

---

Someone had clicked a photo of Haz and Y/N kissing at Washington Square Park, and had uploaded it on the internet. Nobody really knew who Y/N was, so they dubbed her as the ‘heart throb stealer’. Haz didn’t truly realize the gravity of the situation, the situation being a toy for the media, dating a seemingly normal girl from New York.

Haz had an early call time, so he left Y/N’s apartment before she even woke up, stopping at a deli near her flat in Sunnyside, Queens. When he came out with his breakfast, he noticed that the day started early for New Yorkers too, especially those who considered selling pictures of celebrities as honest work. They were hounding for his flesh.

Maybe I should go back to Y/N’s so that they would leave me alone. No. I can’t go there, they will get to know where she lives. I can’t let her live like me, locked in a golden cage.

Later that day, Haz came around Y/N’s place in the evening. He had planned on a quick ‘get in and go’. He even had a whole speech prepared. She opened up the door. Y/N was in her sleeping shorts and a bra, with a spoon in her mouth. She was clearly not expecting any visitors.

Man, why does she always look this perfect.

Before Y/N could say anything, Haz started his speech by clearing his throat.

“Y/N, I think we should break up and before you say anything, hear me out. I live in the public eye and the opinions of people have locked me in a bird cage. I am alone in here and that is fine with me, but you dating me will be your one way ticket inside this circus. You live a normal life, you are so grounded, and you get me back to earth whenever I’m on Saturn. I love you for that, but I can’t give you the peace you deserve to live a happy, healthy life. I don’t want you ever regretting us in the future so, it is for the best that we draw all our cards”, Haz said that all while still standing in her door frame.

“No”, she turned on her heel and walked towards her melting ice cream, leaving the door open for him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” he finally entered the house and followed her.

“Are you insane? I’m not going to fucking leave you because of some stupid bird cage you live in. There’s nothing in this world that could stop me from loving you, ever”

---

It was late at night, Y/N and Haz were lying on their new bed, exhausted from a hard weekend of labour. Moving in was no joke. Only their bedside lights were on along with Y/N’s salt lamp which she had brought from her apartment. She was reading ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. Haz was making circles on Y/N’s stomach.

“You are distracting me”, Y/N spoke softly.

“Oh, am I now?” Haz started tickling her around her stomach.

“Harrison. Stop. Please”, she said between giggles.

“Never darling”, he travelled up to her neck.

She tried to catch his fingers with her chin, “what do you want from me?”

He stopped. Haz placed his hands on her shoulder to calm her down, locking his eye with her he said, “I want to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep to you every night”

“Well you can do that now”

“I want to do that every day for the rest of my life. Marry me, Y/N.”

---

Y/N was walking down 5th avenue, unaware of a photographer following her across the street. She rang her mother to tell her all the new developments in her life.

“Hello?” her mother answered the phone.

“Hi mum, how are you?”

“Oh hi Y/N! I’m doing fine, what about you?”

“I need to tell you something”

“What is it darling?” Y/N could hear her father in the background asking her mum whether it was Y/N she was talking to.

“Put the phone on speaker, I want to talk to you and papa both”

“Okay”, before heading underground for the subway, Y/N stopped at a small café to finish the conversation.

“Are you both here?” They hummed a yes.

Y/N took a deep breath, “I’m getting married to Harrison”

“What!?” both of them exclaimed.

“Honey you are too young to get married”, her mum said.

“If I’m old enough to do my own taxes, then I’m old enough to take this decision on my own”

“Kid, I just want to give you one piece of advice, I don’t think you should announce your engagement to the world just yet, you both haven’t been dating long enough and they already call you a gold digger”, her dad said.

“Where did you hear that?”

“On the internet”

“Dad, you shouldn’t be Google-ing your child. The internet only feeds you poison. And, lucky for you, we haven’t yet decided when to announce it”

---

Haz was stirring the sauce in the pan, next to the pot of boiling pasta. Y/N was sitting on the kitchen floor, with her back using the cabinets for support, reading a script.

“Babe, can you pass me the salt?”

Y/N carefully got up and opened the spice drawer. “There you go”

“Thanks” he took the glass jar of salt from her.

“We should watch ‘A Quiet Place’ tonight,” Haz suggested.

“No. we are going to watch ‘Letters to Juliette’.”

“Y/N, we have seen that movie a hundred times”

“Well make it hundred and one because we are watching it again, tonight”

“Why do you get to choose the movie?”

“Because I’m the pregnant wife here, Haz”, she got on her tippy toes to kiss his forehead.

---

“I want a divorce”, she whispered, loud enough to be heard.

“What?” he looked up at her with the most polarizing gaze.

He heard her. She knew that. She refused to repeat it, she thought if she did, he would win, in some weird way he would win the fiercest fight of their marriage.

“Is this what you do every night when you are not at home, with me? Stay out and drink your pettiness away?” Y/N said, pulling her hair down.

“Is this what you do every night when I’m not home, go to fancy shit with him?”

“Do not bring him into this”, she was stern.

“Come on, say it. Say his name. Say that you are in love with him”, he was poaching her.

“Fine. I love Tom, more than I ever loved you. But this is not about him. He has nothing to do with this sinking ship.” The claws were out.

“Oh honey, you punched the hole. You hurt me”, a mad man said. “You mean to say that you fucking him has nothing to do with us?”

“You should be more hurt that I had a good laugh with him”

She took the dagger out of his back and plunged it straight into his heart. He said nothing. Bleeding out on the floor, no whimpers were whispered.

“When you lost the kid, I was there for you. I took care of you” he said softly.

“Did you ever stop to ask me whether I wanted this kid or not?”

He looked at her confusingly.

“When I lost our child, I was honestly relieved”, she sat down on the floor opposite to him. “I was not ready for it but you were so joyous that I couldn’t say anything. I realized that I was so toxically in love with you, that I was ready to grow a piece of you in me, that I wanted to lose. Our love that seemed so healthy was just in shambles.”

Tears were streaming down both of their faces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he moved forward and rubbed her knee.

“I just couldn’t” she said between sobs.

“And now you have to go. It’s okay. I get it.” He took her in his chest, letting Y/N cry her heart out.

“Hey, just like Passenger sang, ‘you’ll only know you love her if you let her go” he tried to be funny for her. And it worked. Y/N scuffed out air, a sad attempt to laugh.

“I will always care for you, Haz”, she looked him in the eyes, the stream of tears never stopping.

“I know”, a deep sigh heard. “I know, I know.” He said stroking her cheek.

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome @hollandstanevans

[wellbafineline]

All through Rome

a.n. hiiii lovely people, this is my entry for willa @bopbopstyles​​ and havens @harrysclementines​​ bi!reader ficathon, my prompt was flipping through magazines with harry talking about cute girls, and i turned it into gucci shoot Italyrry so enjoyyy!! (and again this title doesn't really have anything to do w the actual fic but it was called gucci italy magazine in my google docs so this one is slightly better)

This is also sort of shorter i had major writers block of what direction i wanted to go w this fic but hope u like it regadless <3

It had been a last minute decision for you to join harry on his latest gucci endeavour, he was shooting for Gucci in Rome and originally you were more than happy to stay home in London, but after half a bottle of wine each and Harry trying to convince you in other ways, you were more than happy to take the week off of work to go with him on his trip. 

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.　   

   It was late when the two of you arrived at the house where you’d be spending your week in Rome and Harry had suggested that you go walk around to find the nearest supermarket, both to get snacks for the house and for some late dinner, complaining that he was starving after only eating before you left for the airport. 

After around 20 minutes of weaving through the small side streets near your house with Harry swinging your hands dramatically between the two of you he noticed a small 24 hour supermarket. Leading you towards the shop and grabbing a small basket on the way inside he headed straight for the alse in the middle of the shop where all of the junk food was.

These were the moments you cherished most with Harry, when he wasn't under any obligation to be Harry Styles, he was just Harry who was squinting under the fluorescent lights of the supermarket trying to decide between salt and vinegar or plain crisps. There had been men and women for both of you before you found eachother but you couldn't help but appreciate what the two of you had built when you thought about past relationships. They weren’t bad per se but  compared to what you had with Harry they were nowhere near comparable to the pure love and admiration you had for each other. 

‘Earth to (y/n)’ Harry said waving his free hand in front of your face ‘Chocolate or haribo?’  ‘Both?’ you answered, picking up two bags of Haribo and putting them into his basket ‘God, I love you.’ he chuckled. Taking your hand again and making his way to the front of the shop where the till was, but not before you saw him ‘sneakily’ putting two bottles of wine in the basket when he thought you were distracted by the different italian sweets. 

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.　   

   You had been sitting on the outskirts all day, deciding to take a step back and let Harry work. You’d spent your day in the tent off to the side with Harry Lambert, Harry’s stylist, as soon as you two had arrived on the set he'd whisked Harry away and later found you hanging around the refreshments tent commenting that this was exactly where Harry said you’d be.

As you were observing both Harry and the small group of other models that were also working on the campaign, particularly noticing how pretty some of the models that were wearing the dresses were. You knew it was harmless infatuation, both you and Harry were secure enough in your relationship where it didn't bother you at all if the other pointed out people who they thought were attractive. But that didn't stop Lambert who had joined you in the refreshments tent out of the fuss of the shoot from noticing and teasing you for the rest of the day about it. 

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.　      

Harry's final pictures had been sent back to him on the last day of your work trip turned Italy vacation. The two of you were fresh from the shower, with Harry using his favorite excuse of ‘saving water’ to convince you to let him join you, after spending the day wandering around Rome and all of the small boutiques near the house Harry had rented for the trip. You were both lying on the bed him laying flat against the headboard and you’d plopped yourself half on top of his chest half on the bed as you reached for the iPad to look through the pictures Harry had been emailed. 

‘Like this one best I think’ You pointed to the photo where Harry was facing sideways and the model was posing in front of one of the trees at the shoot in one of the gorgeous dresses.

‘M’ face is barely in that one’ He faked offence pushing your shoulder lightly away from where it was resting against his side. 

‘Yeah, that's sorta the point’ You moved back to your previous position, which was basically lying on top of him but neither or you were complaining, this was actually one of Harrys favourite ways to cuddle together, feeling very content when he couldn’t really feel his left arm because it had been wrapped around you while you cuddled or took a nap together. 

‘Y’ just think she's fit, could tell when we were at the shoot’ 

‘Think you're fit too’

‘HA!, didn't deny it, knew it Lambert told me you were ogling’

‘Wasn't ‘ogling’ you laugh and put the word in air quotes while sitting up to face him to defend yourself. It was quiet for a few moments while you were flicking through a couple of the remaining photos on the iPad. 

‘What about him?’ You questioned as you pointed to the new photo on the screen of one of the other models who was wearing of one of the eccentric Gucci suits. 

‘What about him?’ Harry was faking an innocence now, he knew what you were trying to ask but obviously got great amusement of making you say it aloud. 

‘Opinions, yes no maybe?’

‘Yeah, he’s fit, nice eyes, like his cheek bones’

‘Alright y’ made your point’ 

‘Oooh so she can give it and can't take it’ He laughed, poking your cheek a little, knowing it annoyed you.

You started to flick through again, when you came to the end of the pictures, placing the iPad down on the bed and turning in your position on the bed so you're lying face to face. 

‘Think you're the fittest out of all of them.’

‘Glad to hear it love,’ as he rolls over so you're underneath him ‘think you're the most gorgeous’ kiss ‘pretty’ kiss ‘breathtaking’ kiss. You’re reduced to a fit of laughter underneath him both from his compliments and the tickling of his moustache against your neck. 

‘Love you the most.’ You tell him bringing his face out of your neck with both your palms pressed to his cheeks and kissing the tip of his nose, making him the one giggling now. ‘Love you too baby, now ‘ave got one last day don’t want to waste it in bed do y’’ he said as he hauled himself up and towards the closet across the room and threw some jean shorts and one of his t-shirts at you ‘want some of that pizza we had the other night.’

[5lazarus]

Palimpsest

For the @sapphic-solstice fest! Posted on AO3 here.

Velanna and Sigrun fight some darkspawn, talk around the past, and write some letters.

“The golem,” Sigrun says. “They said our peoples worked together, once.” “Not like we do that now,” Velanna says sourly. Sigrun says, “Really? Then what do you think we’re doing, my love?” “I don’t think this is work,” Velanna says gruffly. A bit embarrassed, she pulls Sigrun in tighter. They’re sleeping under the stars. Velanna’s cast enough wards to keep the bugs away, and she radiates enough heat to keep Sigrun as toasty as the good spot in front of the fire. My fireball, Sigrun thinks fondly. Warmth. She’s too drowsy to come up with a compliment good enough to make Velanna blush, but not drowsy enough to stop thinking about the past.

She says, “Stars aren’t so strange. Like lyrium-lights. Don’t you think it’s funny both dwarves and elves can see well in the dark?” Velanna grunts. “Because the shem are stupid.” Sigrun laughs. “Yeah, they’re not the brightest. But the Wardens are okay.” Velanna says, “Hmph.” “You disagree?” Velanna strokes her face gently. You’re okay. The others….” She heaves a sigh. “I don’t think I was built for communal life. Even though I’m Dalish.” “Aw, c’mon, you’re not that irritable. Not nearly as bad as Nathaniel. Or Mahariel on a bad day.” Velanna says drily, “Such praise. Not as bad as a murderer’s son or our own neurotic Warden-Commander.” She rises suddenly. The wind wafts through the trees gently. The leaves rustle, but she spots something flit from branch to branch, networking through the canopy. Sigrun reaches for her favorite short sword. Velanna digs her fingers into the earth, feeling its heat travelling through its roots, and at the end--corruption. “Darkspawn,” she says shortly. “I don’t want to run,” Sigrun says. Velanna cannot argue with that, so they prepare an ambush. A shriek nearly catches her unawares, and as she strikes it down, she wonders if this were a cousin once, whose claim it came from, or worse--who birthed it? The battle is quick. They burn the remains and keep walking under the stars. As they trod their way towards dawn, Sigrun says, “You’re quiet.” “I’m tired.” “We can stay at an inn when we get back to the King’s Road. They won’t turn wardens away.” Velanna grunts. Sigrun tries again: “You know, the Legion of the Dead, we don’t let anyone who can make babies go down alone. So, you know. Darkspawn’s probably no one I know. And your sister--” “I don’t want to talk about Seranni.” Sigrun says, “But you should. At some point.” This is what they do, every night. They watch the stars and they watch the earth, and when the darkspawn come, they  kill them and give them a merciful death. Then they move onto the dawn and wash the dust from the road at some hesitant inn, and then they talk. They talk about the dead, they talk about the living. Sigrun leads her onto the road through the blueing dawn. They don’t talk about Shianni, but Sigrun chatters about other things as birds peep through the tree-lined path. “See, in Dust Town, we don’t have birds, not really. Who ever heard about a flying dwarf? But I had pigeon a couple times, before I came to the surface. Not really a delicacy, and for once I didn’t have to steal it! Sometimes we’d have these feasts, just for the sake of having something to celebrate. Go all out, not even on a real feast day. One way to tell the Shaperate to fuck off, I guess. So my friend Anezka, she hooked herself a warrior caste, she gets him to get me and her and a few of the others a ‘celebration of the feathers.’ Some weird shit she came up with, after she saw some noble in a feather-dress. So we skinned the bird but didn’t pluck the feathers--” “That’s so time-consuming,” Velanna says, amused. “Why? Just drop it in the pot with some chilis and salt and--” “Because it looked cool,” Sigrun laughs. “It’s all about the looks, down in Orzammar.” “Ugh,” Velanna says. They reach the inn off the King’s Road. Velanna counts the horses: two, for a two-story building, they might have spare rooms. She hesitates. Will they give them a room? They are decked in Grey Warden armor, after all, and only a little gore-splattered. Sigrun gives her a push.

“C’mon,” she says. “Breakfast is on me.”

Their eyes do not need to adjust to the dusky inside. The innkeeper, a thin woman with a slash for a mouth, starts when she sees them. Her eyes rest on the Grey Warden crest on their chest. She crosses her arms. Plunderers, Velanna can tell she’s thinking. Treaty-takers.

“We need a room!” Sigrun pipes up. “And a bath. No horses, though. But I won’t say no to breakfast.” She flips a gold coin and catches it in her fist, grinning: we have money to pay.

The innkeeper says flatly, “Two sovereigns.”

Velanna says, “Fuck that,” and turns to leave, but Sigrun grabs her by the wrist.

“One sovereign,” Sigrun says pleasantly. “We’re sharing the bed. And the bath. Not the breakfast. And please, we have letters to write, we just destroyed a darkspawn warren not too far from here.” Be grateful, her tone implies. The innkeeper takes the hint.

No one’s up but the owner, so there’s no one to politely intimidate away from the table by the fire. They settle down happily, and Sigrun pulls out a piece of parchment. Velanna’s amused.

“I didn’t think we actually had letters,” she says.

“Someone needs to tell the commander there’s still darkspawn wandering,” Sigrun shrugs. “Especially since we found them this close to the King’s Road.”

“So conscientious,” Velanna teases. She reaches for Sigrun’s face. Sigrun leans into her hand, and Velanna kisses her. Breaking from the kiss, she says quietly, “I didn’t know we had parchment left. We could get Dalish paper—”

“Nah,” Sigrun says. She holds up a wooden stylus, the tip flat like a tiny spatula. “I’m just gonna scrape the ink off this old dispatch.” Curious, Velanna watches her shuffle the ink off the parchment skin. The innkeeper brings over two generous plates of eggs and sausage and fresh-looking bread, and the eternal Ferelden shem cheese. Velanna doesn’t thank her, so Sigrun shoots her a quick, reassuring smile. Of what? Velanna wonders. Well, you’ve killed a lot of shem.

She eats and watches Sigrun write. It’s always a delight to watch her work. First, she scrapes the ink off. Nathaniel told her that was called palimpsest, when you dig the ink out of a piece of parchment. Still, the scratchings remain. You can still see the words that were unwritten.

“What was that?” Velanna asks, wiping the crumbs away from her mouth.

“Hmm?” Sigrun peers at her over her shoulder. “How’s the food?”

“Heavy, like you like it.” Sigrun still eats like she’s starving. Velanna has faced lean times, everyone but the wealthiest shem and durgas durgen’len has, but not like Sigrun. She doesn’t think Sigrun will ever feel comfortable eating slowly. “What was written, before?”

“Oh. Uh.” Sigrun looks embarrassed. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Velanna says, amused. “It’s got to be something.”

Sigrun smiles bashfully. “I like to write about my day sometimes. What we do, who we meet, if we find anything interesting. But I scratch it off every day. Parchment’s so expensive.”

Velanna pauses. “If we go north, we need to go trade for some Dalish paper.”

“Nah. Too much trouble.”

She’s annoyed, and it’s not because she’s hungry anymore. Before she speaks, though, she asks herself why—something she’s learned from Sigrun herself. She’s tired, yes, and she doesn’t know if she wants to continue this conversation, but she knows she should. Sigrun’s only shy when she’s hiding something she’s bothered by. She needs to know, then. She’s her partner, and Velanna has learned that to be good for her, to be as good for as she has been for her, she needs to know.

“Trouble? It’s…we can just requisition it, can’t we?” She gestures to the food. “You always tell me to enjoy being a warden.” She scoffs slightly. “You shouldn’t erase your own record of yourself, you know.” She realizes: ah, that’s why. “They’ve done enough of that.”

Sigrun laughs. “It’s not like this is the Shaperate, Velanna. Just paper.”

“It’s the Shaperate for people like us,” Velanna retorts. “The Dalish write. And we have our songs and stories and friezes. We just have our dispatches. Add in a line. Give it to me.” She tugs the parchment from under her hand. “I’ll write it. ‘Give us more paper.’”

“Hugs and kisses, Velanna,” Sigrun says drily. She picks up a butter knife and begins smearing soft cheese onto the loaf. Velanna stretches an arm around her, and Sigrun leans into her as she eats. “Fine,” she says, muffled. She pauses to chew a bit more and swallow. “But who’s gonna read it? Not like I want Mahariel to read it. This is personal, not like—history.”

Velanna says, “Who cares? I’d kill to have my mother’s words.”

“I know you would,” Sigrun says.

“So you see my point. Someone will want it. You know how much it matters. Don’t let them scratch you off the page.”

“Who’s them?” Sigrun pushes against her gently. “Just me. Anyway, the scratch of the nib still fucks up the page. I’m still there.”

“Yeah,” Velanna says, “off in like, the margins. You dragged me to this inn, vhenan. Your words should be in the middle of the page.”

Sigrun says, “I think you got me lost in the woods of that metaphor, my love. Why don’t we go take that bath, and you try that again?”

“Oy,” Velanna says, but Sigrun’s laughing, so she smiles too. Sigrun finishes the report, Velanna adds in a demand for more paper, they take their bath and enjoy their bed, and at some point, Velanna knows, Sigrun will write about it—and someone will remember it for them, too.

[satuguro]

stars | pt. 1

@astroninaaa : I saw you answered that ask about sokka and omg please right something for him!!! anything!!! i would die for it!!! maybe some angst with a happy ending??? oof i love it

IN WHICH: sokka’s one second too late in making you feel special.

PAIRING(S): sokka x reader, hints of zuko x reader

INSPIRED BY: chasing cars — snow patrol, arsonist’s lullaby — hozier

WARNING: angst, but wbk

NOTES: hi love! thank you sm for requesting and i got a bit carried away, so i’m making this two parts. i’ll tag you when i post the next one. i hope i did your request justice <3

part 2!

you had never been good with words. emotions weren’t your thing — you always added salt to wounds and always found the wrong things to say.

granted, you had a plausible reason for not voicing your emotions. you were raised by bandits, people who hid too much of their trauma behind a tough front. you were once a mere fire nation orphan, left behind by your family because your fire bender mother loved your earth bender father. they were killed as a result of your birth, but they hid you away before it was too late.

you were picked off of the street and raised by ‘bad’ people that became your family. you were the community daughter, protected and loved by everyone despite your firebending abilities. you were trained by them and were taught to survive and fight with your weapon of choice; shurikens.

you had met the avatar and his little ‘crew’ through your dysfunctional family. they had captured them and were having a meeting of sorts to decide what the next move would be. it was you, the youngest of the group and the only person who had arrived late to the meeting, who convinced the others to let them go.

the stalactites of the cave hung heavily over you all as the other bandits gathered around in a circle, surrounding the avatar and his friends. it was a wonder how they hadn’t escaped; but there were talented benders within your group, and one too many people with weapons.

“i say we turn them in!” one criminal yelled with glee, the rambunctious cheers of the others shaking the rocks above and causing dust to fall.

“no— we can work this out!” aang protested, offering a childishly innocent smile as the shadows of the criminals loomed over him and the others. using his airbending would mean possible death— the rocks overhead were weak as is.

sokka raised his boomerang threateningly, backing up along with the others as he readied himself to throw.

“am i late?” a voice — a younger voice — broke through the tension in the cave, making all the bandits hesitate and turn towards the little light that moved towards them.

your mouth and nose were covered by a black mask, leaving your amber eyes on display as you glared at the criminals around you. in your left hand was a ball of fire that you brandished as if it was nothing.

“i told you to be here before 10!” your motherly figure, a criminal named meili, scolded amongst the crowd as you walked forward confidently. there was no reason to show fear— you had known these people since you were a child.

“i got distracted,” you murmured, moving gently through the crowd before you stood in the middle, your permanent scowl melting into a look of shock.

two water tribes, an earth bender, and an airbender. they were looking at your with a mix of caution, hatred, and shock— what was a firebender doing with a bunch of misfit criminals?

“you’re the avatar,” you breathed, your vulnerability falling for just a moment before you glared at the bandits around you. your fire burned brighter as anger suddenly hit you.

“why would you turn him in? don’t you want peace?”

it felt like so long ago. if zuko was hard to trust, you were even harder. you were a bandit and a firebender— how bad could it get? it was toph who had trusted you quicker than the others did; you were brutally honest, much like her, and she appreciated someone who could bring the others back to reality. aang was next, after you tried to teach him some techniques that were a mix of techniques you had learned from your diverse group.

katara and sokka were the hardest to get close to. they sent you dirty looks, ignored you when you spoke, and called you ‘fire nation scum’ — for good reason, you had to admit. but they soon learned to trust you after you saved them from harm more than once.

oddly, you had created a strong bond with sokka. you couldn’t pinpoint the time it began, but there was a solid connection between you both. you bonded over the little things— from feeling like an outsider to your favorite food while growing up. you promised him that you would show him the world one day, as long as he promised to show you his world back home.

you had a connection, and while you never could figure out what your quickening heart and fluttering stomach meant, sokka figured it out for himself.

the moon hung heavily over the horizon, shining down on you as you stared up at it. below the cliff you sat upon was water that reached on for miles, crashing against the jagged rocks below you. your legs hung off the ledge, your eyes shut tight as you took in everything around you.

the soft breeze that prickled your skin. the smell of salty air. the rustling of the trees behind you.

a snap of a twig.

your eyes snapped open, body turning in your seat at you threw a shuriken towards the sound. all you heard was a scream and a ‘thunk’ against wood. your hand lit ablaze as you stood up, raising your fire to see.

sokka, looking as if he was ready to pass out, was breathing heavily against a tree that your shuriken had hit. it had missed him by centimeters, and the poor boy was terrified.

“spirits, y/n, it’s me! sokka! the only sokka you know!” sokka’s breathing came out in labored breaths, and the sound of his squeaky, terrified voice made your shoulders relax. your fire disappeared into your palm and your shuriken was put away.

“you shouldn’t sneak up on someone,” you muttered, turning around to sit in the position you were once in as if nothing happened. you heard him shuffle behind you before he cautiously took a seat next to you.

“and you shouldn’t sit near deadly cliffs,” sokka sassed, making you scoff. but not without a teasing smile.

“are you chicken?”

“me? chicken? never.” sokka puffed out his chest, making you roll your eyes as a soft laugh left your lips. the rare sound made his face bloom a deep red, his eyes lingering at your face for just a moment too long before he averted his eyes. “why’re you out here? we were telling campfire stories.”

“no reason,” you said, staring up at the sky. you were looking at the stars with such wonder written all over your face. your mouth was slightly agape and you looked so... relaxed. happy. it was rare. “it’s beautiful, huh?” you asked, voice dreamy as you stared at the moon.

“yeah,” sokka responded, eyes still set on you. you turned to him, oblivious to the stare he had before you grabbed his face by his chin, your warm touch sending sparks up and down his arms. you gently turned his head to the stars.

“not me, sokka. never me.”

sokka learned later on into your friendship that you didn’t believe you were beautiful.

you had confessed it one day during a ‘confession hour’ around the campfire. you had said the words so quietly that you had to repeat it a second time with burning cheeks. at first sokka couldn’t believe it — were you blind to how gorgeous you were? but as he heard the compliments of the others and saw the doubtful smile on your face, he knew it was no joke.

sokka wanted to tell you that you were beautiful, that he thought you were beautiful.

“it’s two words. just two! you’ll be fine.” sokka paced in his tent, jumping around to get himself ready for the conversation he was ready to have with you. it had been two nights since your confession to the group, and sokka wanted to make you feel special. you deserved to feel special. “okay! okay—“

sokka walked out of the tent, pretending to stretch in order to play it cool. his confident front dropped, however, at the sight of katara and aang. both of them were sitting on some seats toph had bended out of the ground, and both were looking at him with knowing faces.

“are you gonna do it?” aang asked excitedly, practically buzzing in his seat as he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, propping his chin up on his hands.

“you better,” katara said sternly, giving her sheepish brother a look. “honestly, it took you long enough to realize—“

“thank you, i gotta go!” sokka groaned, making a beeline for the forest, listening to their laughing behind him. you had told him that the forest was your safe place, that despite the many things you were bound to burn, you found solace under the trees.

his feet made little noises against the grass below as he maneuvered around the trees. the thrumming of sokka’s heart was loud as he walked, ready to confess and praying that it would all go well—

he had been too late.

he caught you and zuko laying side by side under a tree, staring at the stars. the stars that you and sokka used to stare at for hours. and while sokka knew he couldn’t claim all the stars for the both of you, nothing but pain struck his heart at the sight of you both. the guards you both put up daily were gone, nearly nonexistent as you whispered to each other. your arms were touching, and sokka saw how dangerously close your hands were to each other.

the worst part? he watched you lean up on your elbows and softly take zuko’s face — the scarred part of his face — in your hands. the prince closed his eyes contentedly, and was practically nuzzling his face into the palm of your hand. sokka felt his heart break in two when he heard you say two words that he longed to tell you. you said it under the stars — your stars.

“you’re beautiful.”

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

NOTES: thanks for reading! this’ll be a two part series, so i’ll try to write the next one as soon as i can

buy me a coffee here! any likes, reblogs, or donations are appreciated :)

part 2 is here!

[castielscarma]

Rain

For @eatyourdinnerjoseph​ and @dreamnovak​ https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573535 A 15x19 coda. Rating: GA Words. 1.3k Rain “The only journey is the one within.” ―Rainer Maria Rilke Even in the moments where life refuses to slow down, where it rushes forward in a whirlwind of salt-and-burns, home-cooked meals, and endless grocery shopping, Dean still takes time to pause and marvel. Cas loves him. It's been months since they beat Chuck, since Earth was saved (again). Months since Cas came back to him. Dean smiles and trails his fingers down Cas' arm. He's seen the movie a hundred times but each time he watches it with Cas, he discovers something new. Not about the movie, but about Cas. He loves the feel of Cas' warm skin against his own. It reminds him of all the times when he longed with his entire being to touch Cas but couldn't. Now he can't get enough. Cas shifts and leans back against Dean's chest. It's a heaviness that brings comfort to Dean. Not the kind of heavy that leaves the heart dull and aching, shattered. Where words crumble somewhere between chest and lips. This is a heaviness that holds and wraps Dean with loving wings. It reminds him of what is his. Dean squeezes Cas' arm and senses more than sees the smile that graces Cas' lips. He plays with Cas' hair, fingers combing through gently, just because he can. Cas loves him.

Sometimes Dean thinks about before. It's already something intangible, not because Dean doesn't remember but because that's not who he is anymore. The snake doesn't reminisce of its old, dried up skin. No, it lets go and revels in the new, because it's larger now. The same but different. “Hey, Cas?” Cas hums and looks up. Dean looks down at Cas' blue eyes. They never changed throughout it all but now they shine with love. Or maybe it's that Dean recognizes it for what it was all along. “I love you.” He plants a kiss on Cas' forehead. “I love you too.” Cas pauses. “You haven't been paying attention, have you?” Dean shrugs. “I have. That's the guy that's supposed to find the girl, uh, his daughter?” “Yes, his daughter. I was under the impression that you've seen this movie many times?” “It's hard to pay attention when you're doing the thing.” “What thing?” “You know, just being you.” He continues to play with Cas' hair. He chuckles when he hears Cas sigh from pleasure. “You're like a cat, you know that? Turning into putty at the slightest touch.” “The human skin is full of nerve endings so this is a perfectly normal response.” Dean digs his fingers in harder and Cas practically melts against him. “Uh-huh. There is nothing normal about you, Cas. You're quite extraordinary.” He turns Cas' head to the side and kisses him softly. “This still feels... amazing,” Cas mumbles. “Mm, good. Perks of being human. You feel amazing too, Cas. All of this is amazing.” “Urination is still quite the chore.” Dean chuckles. “Such a romantic Cas.” Cas squeezes his hand once. “Just the spot, Dean.” Dean's fingers work their magic with Cas' scalp, kneading and pressing in all the right places. “I think, this is one of my favorite experiences as a human so far,” Cas muses. “Me stroking your hair as if you're a chinchilla?” Cas turns and kisses him. “No, Dean. Just sitting here and enjoying your hands on me. It's remarkable how the body responds to touch, like it craves it from the deepest corners of primal memory. It's a universal longing.” Dean strokes a finger down Cas' neck. “Yeah, I dreamed of touching you for years.” “Now you have me.” Dean opens his eyes with a start. The TV is still on, but the sound is muted. The heat of Cas on his chest has dissipated. Dean yawns and gets up. It's not that late but suddenly Dean feels tired to his very bones. He turns the TV off. Cas has probably gone to bed. The thought pulls a smile from Dean. In everything that Dean has taken for granted, that he's written off as just life, Cas takes notice. Sure, Dean still marvels at life with Cas but Cas sees everything as something to revere, even the most mundane things. One time Dean caught Cas staring at him when he was making a sandwich. He said something about Dean looking peaceful and present. Dean had written it off – there was nothing divine about making a PB&J sandwich but Cas had kept looking at him like he was responsible for the stars shining in the night sky.   The harsh lights in the Bunker do chase away some of Dean's fatigue but bed is the best option. Cas wakes up early no matter how hard Dean has tried to convince him that sleeping in is awesome. It's soft at first, so subtle that Dean dismisses it as noise from the old pipes. It changes, a soft whisper turning into a drumming song. Thunder cracks above him. Dean turns around and walks towards the Bunker exit. The raindrops fall on Dean's flannel, momentary beads that shine before they flatten and are absorbed into his shirt. The moon hangs fat and yellow in the sky. Thunder rumbles again but Dean has his sight on Cas. He sits crossed-legged in the field with his face towards the stars and galaxies but to Dean, Cas is the brightest star. The sight makes Dean's heart constrict. Cas doesn't move as Dean sits down beside him. Dean closes his eyes for a few seconds, inhales and exhales softly. “Sometimes I can hear him, “ Cas says. “Jack?” Cas nods and smiles. “Yes. In the rain, in the thunder right now as it crashes around us. In the woods when we're out walking with Miracle. A faint whisper in the halls of the Bunker. In the nudge to eat some nougat.” Dean clears his throat and takes Cas' hand. He intertwines their hands. “Jack urges you to eat nougat?” “Well, Sam is the one that buys the nougat but Jack inspires me to eat it. I do it in his memory.” “I hear him too sometimes. Mostly in my dreams.” Cas opens his eyes and looks at him, his brows drawn down in concern. “They're good dreams, Cas.” He wipes away water from Cas' cheek. “You're all wet.” “Happens when it rains.” Cas plays with the wet grass and sighs heavily. “I miss him.” Those simple words pierce Dean's heart; they're spoken with such vulnerability. “Sometimes so much that I feel this lump in my chest, an actual ache.” “Yeah.” Dean doesn't mention the times he has felt that. For Jack, for Cas, for Sam. Every time they died. “That's just your body trying to process. You miss him. You're supposed to feel that. We humans, we feel things all over.” Cas huffs. “It's amazing but inconvenient at times. It makes me think of you.” Dean shudders. The rain is seeping into his clothes. “Are you trying to say that I'm amazing and inconvenient? You sure know how to flirt. Why pick one side when you can go for both a compliment and an insult?” “We were lucky to know him.” Dean puts an arm across Cas' shoulder. “We are. And he's not gone.” “He isn't.” Cas gets up stiffly. “I should move. My legs are falling asleep.” Dean gives him a hand. “Not easy being an old man.” He kisses the back of Cas' hand and suppresses the shivers going through him. “How about a nice warm shower and then bed? Don't want you catching a cold. That's a human experience we can put off as long as possible.” “I don't know. It seems nice to be pampered. Someone to bring you cakes and hot soup. I can watch movies all day.” Dean laughs. “I'll make you soup tomorrow, Cas.” He pauses because he doesn't want to put a damper on the mood. A sudden wind hurls towards him, peppering him with misty raindrops. Dean sputters and wipes at his face. Jack is anything but subtle when he wants Dean to understand something. Dean figures he needs that bluntness. “You know, it was worth it. Everything was worth this. Worth being free. Worth having you. Love you, Cas.” “Love you too, Dean.” Above them, the thunder quiets and the drizzle of rain dies down. Dean laughs.

[gffa]

I admire how confident you are. You tell it like you see it and I appreciate that. You are 100% the type of person I'd want to get into a weird debate with at a nice restaurant. I'm talking the type of debate on whether or not the Fraggles were jerks to the doozers or not by eating their construction.

THIS is the kind of compliment that I live for!!! It’s actually really hard for me sometimes, finding the line between standing my ground and being confrontational, but ultimately I see it as coming back to two things:  “How will I wish I had responded to this, when I look back on this in two weeks from now?” + “Is this really worth getting into it with someone over a fictional show, because sometimes this is just bullshit that isn’t worth my time.” So, I think about that kind of thing a lot and I hope that it comes through in the way I approach the things I say.  That, yeah, I have strong opinions on things, but also I don’t go around attacking other people for having different opinions, because I know where my scroll button is and also it’s Star Wars, who fucking cares what other people think, so long as they’re sticking just to the fictional characters. That said, I would absolutely get into a ridiculous bullshit debate in a nice restaurant and would probably be laughing the entire time I was also being serious.  Well, unless it’s about my precious faves, and then THIS IS THE HILL I WILL SALT THE EARTH AND BURN TO THE GROUND BEFORE I DIE ON IT.  😂