be quiet mouse

Byun Baekhyun//Psych - Part 1

Originally posted by callmeminseok

Summary: After a month of being broke at college, you finally find a place to stay, but the only con is that there is nine other people you have to share a house with - one in particular who makes it his mission to irritate you at every turn - but they’re hiding something from you. Something big. (Part 1/6)
Scenario: Werewolf!AU, college!AU, series
Word Count: 5,972

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Gunshot (a sneak peek)

So… This was written way back in January (yikes), when I first started to write the mafia au fic 8 Days a Week and only @kawaiilo-ren and a couple other people have seen it. You might think you’ve seen it before, because Kait is a babe and she’s been drawing the amazing comic of this scene (and murdering me along the way). 

My plan was to keep this private until it was time to publish it on Ao3 but life is short and I actually like this. People will probably forget by the time it’s published there anyway, oops. 

Under the cut because it’s long. 



Hospital hall is looking cold and bleak under the fluorescent lights, like it did many hours ago. Yuri doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he left the building but coming back feels like returning from war, maybe. He doesn’t know what war feels like. It must be exhausting, if it resembles this even slightly. 

Ignoring his shaking hands is easy, as is turning a blind eye to his pulsating head ache. His body is crashing after riding through the adrenaline waves and he would kill for a nap; but that would make the list of things worth killing for longer and he isn’t sure if he is ready to deal with the paperwork. He isn’t ready to deal with anything yet, he just wants to return the weapon to its true owner and fall into a lifelong slumber.

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Drawn From The Heart: Your Most Memorable Valentine's Day Cards

No snark or anti-commercialism rantings here, just a dose of simple sweetness. We asked readers to share their most memorable Valentine’s Day cards; here are a few of our favorites, edited for length and clarity. And we asked NPR illustrator Chelsea Beck to re-create two valentines that live on only in their recipients’ memories.

Renae Quinn, Rancho Cucamonga, Calif.

My favorite valentine ever was from my late husband on the Valentine’s Day before we married. He gave me a box and lined up in the box were a drawing of an eye, a paper heart on a spring that popped up when I opened the box, a pink foam letter U, a chocolate-covered strawberry, and a baggie full of dirt from the garden in front of our apartment.

I was mystified. I mean I got the “I love you so very” part clearly enough, but the dirt? I said, “You love me so very dirty?” I didn’t care for that! He kept saying, “No, think about it.”

But all I could come up with was, “I love you so very dirt.”

He finally told me, “MULCH! It’s mulch!”

So it said, “I love you so very much.” Duh.

It’s still my favorite ever.

Christine Hull, Springvale, Maine

Three years ago, when my son was 7, he made a collection of small valentines that he distributed throughout our house. Each valentine was unique, and each involved a heart shape.

One was a simple red heart taped to the inside of a spoon. I found it while I was making my morning coffee and, of course, it brightened my day. Another was a pink bunny, who was especially cute because he was lopsided. Yet another was a series of yellow hearts arranged like petals of a sunflower. It was carefully taped to appear as if it were growing out from under my desk.

I was impressed by his creativity, but more so by the fact that he woke up early to hide each valentine for my husband and me to discover as we went through our day. He didn’t simply give us one valentine, he gave us a day full of discovering valentines.

Francha Menhard, Tel Aviv, Israel

I was teaching second-graders how to speak English. I was teaching them similes to describe things. “You are as quiet as a mouse,” “You are tall as the ceiling,” etc.

When Valentine’s Day came, wild and crazy J.R. gave me a heart cut out of plain white paper. On the heart, he wrote: “You are as beautiful as Wonder Woman. You are as fun as clowns. You are as smart as God. Love JR.”

I kept that valentine on my fridge until the sun bleached it out completely, some 14 years later. Thereafter, my sweet husband would remind me at bedtime that I was as beautiful as Wonder Woman. As fun as clowns. As smart as God. Just in case I forgot.

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Illustrations by Chelsea Beck/NPR

Secret Wolfsbane (Remus x Reader)

“Loved your last Remus piece! Would you maybe do one where the reader is friends with the marauders, secretly in love with Remus, and once she finds out he is a were she makes wolfsbane for him secretly leaving it in the shack since she doesn’t want to pressure him into telling her. The boys get curious as to who is making it so they use the invisibility cloak and catch her leaving it one day. Lots of fluff! Thank you and have a good day!” Aw! Thank you so so much! And I loved this idea, hope you like how it turned out!

Italics= thoughts and flashbacks.

Also, in this instance professor Merrythought will be teaching DADA since there is no clear answer to who was teaching it after she retired during the marauders era.

You were a sixth year Gryffindor along with the poster children for trouble, also known as the marauders. You had been best friends with them ever since first year, but you have also been in love with one of them just as long. It started out as crush but after getting to know the sweet and gentle boy better, it turned into love. You were in love with none other than Remus Lupin, he was just as michevious as the rest but he was gentler and much more reasonable.

It wasn’t until your third year at Hogwarts that you found out about his “furry little problem” as both James and Sirius refer to it. Every month Remus would get sick, you didn’t think much of it during your first year but then during your second year, Sirius, James and Peter would disappear as well.

Second Year, after Christmas break.

“Hey guys! I was looking all over for you, have you seen Remus? The night sky is pretty clear so I was wondering if he wanted to star gaze and finish our astronomy project.” You told the pair of boys who were sitting at the back of the library.

“Sorry Y/N, it’s his aunt’s birthday tomorrow so he left afte class.” James said as he continued to write on a piece of parchment, no doubt an overdue essay.

“Wasn’t his aunt’s birthday last month?” You questioned.

“He has more than one aunt, this one is also very dear to him.” Sirius asserted as he stood from his chair, gathering his things.

“Oh okay, do you guys want to go and stargaze with me then?”

“Sorry sweet cheeks, but we have that test to study for, you go ahead and tell us about it tomorrow, okay?” Sirius replied as he ruffled your head affectionately. He and James left the library, leaving you with your thoughts. Funny thing was that you all had the same classes and there was no such test coming up, rather than keep interrogating them you played dumb and left it at that.

 

End of Second Year

“Hey, James! Have you seen Remus? He wasn’t in class today and I was wondering if he wanted any of the chocolate my mother sent me.”

“Um, sorry Y/N, he came down with a nasty stomach virus last night and went home for the weekend since he doesn’t like to stay in the hospital wing.” He answered.

“Oh that’s odd, he seemed fine last night.”

“Yeah, but you know how those bugs are, one minutes you’re fine and the next you’re kneeling over the loo hoping to be out of your misery soon.” He shrugged.

“Well, do you want some chocolate? She sent me far too much for just one person.”

“I would love some but I gotta run, Sirius, Peter and I have a double detention with Slughorn and I’m already late. I’ll catch you later!” and with that he ran off before you could bid him goodbye.

Another one of their excuses that didn’t add up since Slughorn loved James, and pretty much turned a blind eye when it came to the marauders.

 

Third Year

“Remus!” you exclaimed as you spotted your best friend down the hall, giving him a hug as you caught up with him.

“Looks like someone missed me.” He said chuckling as he hugged you back.

“You have no idea, you and the boys are always ditching me, I almost feel as if you all plan it and go to an Y/N free zone once a month to detox.” You joked back but you saw him gulp. So you were right, it wasn’t your imagination, they did all go out at least once a month without you.

“Nonsense, you can blame Peter for this one because he got us all sick this weekend, but don’t worry I’m feeling much better today.” He said smiling as you both made your way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts. You both set your bags down as you saw that everyone was gathered around the center of the room where a wardrobe stood rattling.

“Hello class! Today we have a hands on activity, as you all noticed that is not ordinary wardrobe, inside of it is a boggart. Can anyone tell me what that is?” no one raised their hand but Professor Merrythought called on Remus, knowing that he must have some sort of idea considering that his father was an expert when it came to things like this.

“A boggart is an amortal shape-shifting non-being that takes on the form of the viewer’s worst fear. It has no definite form since it changes depending on the person since he or she will fear different things.” He replied, looking uneasy, the carefree demeanor he had with you before class had vanished as he eyed the wardrobe wearily.

“Correct Mr. Lupin, ten points to Gryffindor. So right now, this particular boggart is sitting in the darkness inside has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.” The class remained silent, you could see many uneasy and worried looks.

“In order to get rid of one, one must concentrate on turning said fearful thing into something funny, so that fear can be dispelled in amusement as you say the incantation, ‘Riddikulus.’ Wands out, and repeat after me, Riddikulus.” The class did as they were told and soon enough you were all lining up, you and Remus made your way by where Sirius and James were standing and you all watched as Peter went first.

A snake came slithering out of the wardrobe, increasing in size as it got closer to Peter.

“Now Mr. Pettigrew!” Professor Merrythought shouted.

“R-riddikulus!” Peter shouted and in and instant the snaked turned into a slinky, laughter echoed in the room and soon enough everyone was pushing to be next.

One by one they all went and it was finally James’s turn, you bit your lip knowing well enough what his worst fear was. The wardrobe door opened once again and, a cow came out, walking slowly and mooing ominously at James. Both you and Remus bursted out laughing, remembering how a few summers ago, you all went to the muggle country side and somehow James angered a herd of cows and they chased him for five miles, it took Remus and Sirius a good twenty minutes to compose themselves before helping him.

“RIDDIKULUS!” James shouted with a little too much gusto, no doubt wanting to get it over and done with. The cow then turned into a dozen of black and white polka dotted snitches that buzzed around the room clumsily.

Sirius was next, you and Remus had a small betting pool going on between the two of you, knowing your best friends fairly well, you both knew what was going to come out of the wardrobe for Sirius.

Sure enough, a giant, and muscly Kreacher came out, hunched over with a menacing look on his face. You all knew Sirius wasn’t very fond of his house elf. The Kreacher like boggart wasn’t even halfway across the room when Sirius was already yelling Riddikulus, turning Kreacher into a giant balloon animal, squeaking with every movement.

It was finally your turn and you were not looking forward to it, in fact you had turned slightly pale at the thought of facing one of your biggest fears. Remus gave you an encouraging nod and you went to face your boggart.

At least fifty needles came flying out at you, all looking extremely sharp, you froze on the spot and even though they wouldn’t really hurt you, Remus ran towars you and yelled out.

“RIDDIKULUS!” not only did he protect you, but your boggart turned into a bunch of flowers; daisies, sunflowers and pansies bloomed around the room, but once the buds opened, a trumpet like sound was emitted, prompting raucous laughter.

You thanked Remus and he nodded, both of you blushing, you saw that he hesitantly made his way towards the front, knowing that he was one of the last ones to g; he needed to participate in order to get a good mark. The doors to the wardrobe opened and out came a great yellow ball, if you had blinked you would’ve missed it because in instant it was zipping around the room as a deflated balloon. That was no ordinary yellow ball, that was a full moon. Your theory was confirmed when you saw how the rest of the marauders were throwing worry glances towards Remus, the class didn’t seem to noticed what his boggart was since they were still laughing about the trumpeting flowers.

 

Ever since that fateful DADA class, you had finally figured out what your best friends were hiding from you. Your suspicions came true when you followed them during the full moon, drinking a potion that would make your movements as quiet as a mouse, you also had borrowed James’s invisibility cloak last week and had ‘forgotten’ to give it back this morning. You followed them into the shrieking shack, and when you saw how your best friends transformed into animaguses you gasped, but you felt your world spinning as you saw the man you love howl in pain as he turned into a wolf. You quickly ran out of the room, not because you were afraid but because you had to help him somehow, seeing him in pain made your heart ache.

During the next couple of weeks, you spent all of your free time in the room of requirements, hunched over countless of potion books, stirring and making endless trial potions in hopes of finally getting the challenging Wolfsbane potion down. Whenever one of the marauders would ask where you would go off to, you would give a vague answer of either going to see a professor for an extra lesson or that you were helping a professor or someone from a different house with something.

It took you two months but you had finally perfected and were ready to give it to Remus. During the next full moon, you went to the shrieking shack in the early hours of the morning and left the potion with a note explaining what it was, you hoped that they would use and wouldn’t think of it as a trap. Hopefully they think Dumbledore was behind it. You hid under one of the floorboards that was on the opposite side of the room, you had watched where they situated themselves and you knew that you would go undetected there. Soon enough it was nighttime and you heard them rushing in.

“Oi, Remus, come and look at this.” Sirius said as he saw the bottle and the note addressed to Remus. Remus eyes light up as he read it and even though James and Sirius were apprehensive Remus simply shrugged.

“I turn into a bloody monster once a month, I don’t have much to lose if I try this out.” He drank the potion in one big gulp, you all held your breath as he transformed a few minutes later. Five minutes passed and the rest of the marauders let out a cheer seeing how calm their friend was. You had happy tears in your eyes due to how your potion had worked and seeing that you were able to help him.

Ever since that full moon, every month you would work on his Wolfsbane potion and sneak it into the shack a day before the full moon. You had finished this batch and were ready to head out, you went to your room to get the cloak and your wand. You cursed under your breath as you remembered that you had given James his cloak back last week. You silently disarmed the spells that lead to the boy’s dormitories, thanks to yours and Remus’s late night study sessions, you knew which spell to use. You snuck into their room thinking that they were all in the common hall but much to your horror a voiced from behind you scared the daylights out of you.

“And to what to we owe this pleasure, love?” Sirius asked, leaning against the doorway as James looked on.

“Um, you see, I lent Remus a book yesterday and I need it to finish my Charms essay.” You answered, avoiding their eyes as you pretended to look for your book in Remus’s side of the room.

“And here it is! Thanks boys!” you grabbed the first book that you saw and left before they could say anything else.

You were back to how you were an hour ago, without an invisibility cloak. Guess I just have to risk being caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris… you thought. You put on your robes, grabbed both the potion and your wand and headed towards the underground tunnels that you knew so well. Unbeknownst to you, the two marauders didn’t believe your book story and followed you under James’s cloak, and were slowly putting two and two together as they follow you on your way towards the shrieking shack.

“No bloody way, she’s Moony’s Wolfsbane fairy.” Sirius whispered as James looked in awe as you made your way across the room and set down said potion, placed the accompanying note and left without a second glance. After they were sure you were long gone, they took off the cloak and sat in silence as they processed what they had just witnessed.

“Slughorn said that Wolfsbane was one of the hardest potions to do, it required an immense amount of skill and dedication. Remus started getting a bottle of Wolfsbane during the end of our third year, that means Y/N has been making his monthly potion for the last three years.” James pondered, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m honestly getting tired of seeing them dance around each other, can’t we just lock them up in a boggart free closet and have them confess their feelings for each other? What more proof do we need that she loves him? And we both know that he loves her.”

“Pads, I think it’s time we play matchmaker.” James said as he rubbed his hands excitedly.

A month had passed and you were once again bottling some Wolfsbane for Remus, ready to head out to set it out for him. You didn’t think twice on why you hadn’t seen any of the marauders all day, I mean it is Saturday, perhaps they’re out by the lake enjoying the sun before heading to the shack. You saw Peter and quickly asked him where the rest of the boys were, he stuttered that they were by the lake. You didn’t even bother to double check; you were just glad that you still had time to make your delivery.

You ran through the tunnels and finally made it to the shack, gasping for air, as you climbed upstairs. You were attaching your usual note to the bottle when a voice cut through the stillness of the room.

“Y/N?” you almost dropped the bottle. Gulping, you slowly turned around to face Remus.

“Hi Rem, fancy meeting you here.” You stammered out, avoiding his piercing green eyes.

“Three whole years. I’ve been wanting to meet the person that’s been making the Wolfsbane potion and thank them for three whole years, and that person was always next to me. You’ve been helping me for three whole years and I never thanked you, not once.” Remus marveled, slowly making his way across the room to you and enveloping you into a warm embrace.

You never imagined that someone would catch you in the act, let alone Remus himself.

“You’re not mad?” you whispered into his chest.

“Why would I be mad? You’ve been keeping me sane during my darkest hours.”

“I knew what was happening to you but I kept quiet.”

“No, Y/N, you found out and you still treated me as your best friend”

“That’s because I love you, Remus.” You breathed out.

“Now I know I must be dreaming.” He said, taking your hands in his as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“Ever since second year.” You whispered.

“So have I, bloody hell, I fell for you as soon as you told Sirius and James to shut up five minutes after sitting with us during our first train ride to school.” He gushed, laughing joyfully; both of you had smiles on your faces, your hearts were full, knowing that your love was reciprocated was the best feeling ever.

He closed the gap between the two of you and captured your lips into a gentle kiss, leaving you breathless. After a few moments you pulled apart, a gently blush dusting both of your faces.

“Remind me to thank Sirius and James for being so nosy, if it wasn’t for them following you last month, I would’ve never found out nor this would’ve happened.”

“Of course it was them…” You chuckled.

“They should be here soon, Peter will take you back to the castle and after this is all over we can spend the remainer of the weekend together, if you want that of course.” Remus said, nervously rubbing his neck.

“I wish you would let me stay but I understand, and of course I want to! In fact, I’ll sneak into the kitchen to get us some sweets.” You said, coming up on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

A few minutes later, cheers and congratulations echoed across the room as the marauders made their entrance. Before you left with Peter back to the castle, you kissed Remus once more which prompted five minutes of cat-calls and hollering from James and Sirius. Both you and Remus blushed and rolled your eyes at their antics, Remus told them to shut up, trying his hardest not to blush once again.

Bundle of Joy - Part One

Originally posted by yourlipbalm

Fandom: Marvel 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Parent!Reader 

Summery: While out for a morning run Bucky comes across the Reader who’s having trouble calming their baby girl and he comes to their rescue. 

Warnings: Attempted fluff and baby.



If there was one thing everyone knew about your baby girl it was that she wasn’t a baby to be put down, not even for a moment, not even when she was fast asleep. It’s not like anyone really wanted to put her down, though. There was no bonnier babe when she was being held. She’d gargle, smile and play the perfect ‘bundle of joy’ when in someone’s- anyone’s - arms. However, once that skin to skin warmth and subtle movement was gone she’d let out a horrific wail that made the neighbours come running - surely with a scream like that something had to be wrong. 

 It was rare when she’d start crying against your chest, wrapped up in the sling you had bought online merely two months after her birth, but there she was waving her tiny fists as you tried to soothe her on the park bench. She squirmed around in your arms like some large chubby eel as huge tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her rosy cheeks.

“Hey,” You cooed, letting her take hold of your index finger. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. You’re okay.“ 

 Her large eyes opened at your calming voice, frantically looking up at your face as she continued her screeching. Leaning down you planted a kiss on her forehead and another on each of her cheeks, but nothing you did seemed to calm her. 

 "You’re okay.” You tried again.

Gritting your teeth, you looked out across the river as you rocked her in your arms, hoping that her tantrum would end soon so you could walk home without her carrying on in your arms. Perhaps when she was finished screaming she’d be tired enough to sleep and give you back the few hours of sleep she had robbed you of last night. You were sure you looked tired; with zombie-like reaction time and large raccoon-like bags under your slightly bloodshot eyes.

 "Hey, you alright?“ 

Jumping slightly, you turned around to face the man who had addressed you.

He saw the shock register on your face before you could hide it.

“Uh - yeah.” You said quickly, glancing down at you daughter in the hope that the presence of a good looking stranger would calm her. A small smile played on this strangers lips as you twisted around in you seat to properly face him, taking in his full appearance. He had long brown hair, which was thick and lustrous and gathered in an untidy bun, strands of it falling out and framing his perfectly chiseled jaw. His face was strong and defined, featured from granite. He also had dark brows, which were angled upwards in a kind, concerned expression. 

The stranger moved around the bench to stand in front of you, giving you a better view of his muscular body, which seemed to have been forced into a white tank (that must have been at least one size too small) and casual sweatpants. As your eyes gave him a once over, you couldn’t help but linger over his left arm. Where a usual arm of flesh and bone would normally be, there was instead a bionic arm that looked like it had come straight out of one of the sci fi films you had on your shelf back home.

“I’m Bucky,” He said, stepping forward and offering you his right hand to shake. “Bucky Barnes.“ 

Without moving from your seat, you rested your screaming babe in the nook of your left arm, gently releasing your finger from her grip and taking hold of Bucky’s outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. 

 ”(Y/N).“ 

 Bucky flashed you a dazzling smile before his eyes dropped down to your daughter. 

“Hello sweetness.” He hummed. 

 She still hadn’t stopped crying, but her red face didn’t seem to put Bucky off at all. Quite the opposite, it seemed. The perfectly sculpted man before you moved to your side and waved at her, the metal of his arm reflecting the light of the sun and capturing your daughters attention and putting a sudden stop to her crying.

 "Can I?“ 

In complete shock at her sudden change of mood, you happy nodded in agreement and gently scooped her up and into Bucky’s arms as he took the seat next to you. She looked even smaller than she already was in his embrace. Her golden cheek was pressed up against his chest and her eyes followed the glint of his bionic arm, her hands reaching out from under her blanket to touch it.

Bucky gasped, a look for pure bliss coming across his face. “Hello, little one.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Aren’t you a doll.“ 

You weren’t listening to what he was saying - far to busy admiring the way the two of them were looking at one another. Bucky, with his eyes wide and his arms held securely around your child as if she could break as easily as a bubble, and your babe, completely mystified and as quiet as a mouse. 

"She likes you.” You smiled, meeting Bucky’s gaze as he looked over at you, his own smile widening. He looked as if he was about ready to cry. 

“I think she likes my arm more.” He laughed. At his words, your daughter looked up at his face and giggled. The sound was like bells compared to the nonstop wails from earlier. You and Bucky awed at the sight of her toothless grin and the way she gazed up at him with her big eyes as she squirmed around in his arms as to get even closer to him than she already was. 

 "I’m sure you have places to be, little one.“ Bucky cooed, tapping her on the nose. "I’d better leave you and your mommy to get on with your day." 

Still grinning from ear to ear, Bucky held your daughter out to you.

"Oh!” You exclaimed, breaking out of your little trance and taking her back from him. 

 Once she was happily wrapped up in the sling across your chest, you and Bucky both got up from the park bench and awkwardly exchanged goodbyes. 

“D - do you often walk around here?” Asked Bucky. “I’d love to bump into you again." 

You smiled up at him and felt your heart flutter.

"Yeah, actually.” You said, your hand reaching up to gingerly massage your shoulder. “See you around?" 

Bucky smiled shyly. "See you around.”

And with that he was off, jogging down the sidewalk and out of sight. Your entire body tingled as you watched him leave, and a deep blush coated your cheeks. 

Here’s hoping you’d see him again.

Part Two

undisclosed desires

length: 2k

genre(s): smut

triggers/warnings: none 

simon follows baz into the woods and finds more than he bargained for

a/n: bless @cherryonsimon for wading through this incoherent mess x.x (also readmores don’t seem to work on mobile but if you click my url it should take you to the post ^__^)

for day 7 of @snowbaz-feda!!



Simon

This is all Baz’s fault. If he hadn’t decided to sneak out of our room and into the Wavering Wood right before the drawbridge went up for the night, I wouldn’t be stuck out here with him. Well, not with him. Behind him. Far behind him. But not too far that I can’t tell what he’s up too. Except…except I can’t see him anymore.

I think I’m lost.

This is all Baz’s fault.

Baz

Snow must be delusional if he thinks I can’t tell he followed me. From the unmistakable swish of his sword as he cuts through the branches, to his heavy clomp, I can hear him coming from miles away. I make sure my path is full of twists and turns, until I can’t hear anything behind me. Then I go searching for something to drink.

There’s a large buck visible through the trees and I cast quiet as a mouse on myself. He doesn’t hear me coming until it’s too late and I’m sinking my fangs into his proud neck. There’s always that pang of regret that comes seconds before I bite, the knowledge that I’m stealing the life away from an animal. But, then again, doesn’t everyone? Is my drinking this deer’s blood really any different than someone eating a burger?

I take my time draining the creature, enjoying every drop. I haven’t been able to feed like this since returning to Watford and I notice the difference almost instantly. I feel stronger, healthier; like maybe I can take on whatever’s coming for me this year.

I drop the carcass to the ground, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.

And that’s when I hear him.

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Healing Hands (Part 2)

Ivar x Reader
Healing Hands: Part 2 of 2. 8,341 words.
Here’s Part 1 for anyone that missed it.
Warnings: A little angst, a lotta smut. I wouldn’t read this at work ;)
Wow guys, I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to finish this update! I really didn’t mean to keep you all waiting for so long but life kicked my ass a little bit this month. Thank you all so much for your support and all of your kind words, I honestly never expected such amazing feedback. I was so nervous writing for a new fandom but you all have just been so encouraging and so kind. I really hope that each and every one of you enjoys Part 2 and that it lives up to your expectations! Thank you again, everyone!
Tags: @skeletoresinthebasement @peculiarleah @ivartheboneme @theburningspirit  @splendor-e I’m sorry if I missed anyone!


The days that followed Ivar’s cruel rejection were some of the bitterest you’d ever known. You weren’t sure just what to expect from all those hours at the prince’s side but outright exclusion wasn’t something that had even crossed your mind. Everything seemed to be going so well. You and Ivar constantly lost track of time as you engaged in passionate conversations, talking about everything and nothing and whatever was left in-between. You knew Ivar well know, perhaps well enough to call him a friend and you had secretly hoped that he shared these feelings.

You had even started to wonder if Ivar was more than just a friend. Even before that final blissful evening, the chemistry between you both was undeniable. In all of your years of working with patients in all sorts of intimate situations, not one had responded to your touch like Ivar had. Not even the most flirtatious warrior would gasp and whimper in a way that only a lover would yet Ivar practically melted in your hands.

Then, there were the looks. He may have been a man of few words when it came to discussing anything emotional but disappointment was always noticeable in Ivar’s bright eyes whenever you bid him goodnight. Then every morning, that disappointment vanished again when you arrived and exchanged private, flirty stares that were completely missed by Ubbe.

There was no way of really telling where the shy smiles and tantalizing glances were heading but you were certain that they were heading somewhere. That was why Ivar’s rejection hurt even more. You tried to be rational by reminding yourself that you weren’t Ivar’s lover and he had no obligation to explain anything to you but rationality didn’t keep you warm on those cold, lonely nights. 

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Church Mouse

Request: Can you make headcanons about the reader dating Wade but being shy? I am a very shy and non social person to strangers but if I know you well then I will talk about lot.

You sat in a booth by yourself waiting to see if your pick for the dead pool was dead or not. You had quite a bit of money, and a lot of faith on your bet. You watched the door seeing if your pick would come in. The bar’s phone rang and Weasel answered it; you watched him, wondering what news was being delivered. He looked upset, and after a sigh he hung up the phone.

“Hey! I got results on the dead pool!” he yelled. The bar quieted as everyone awaited who was dead, and who would get the money.

“Snake Eyes got stabbed to death outside of a Toys R Us. He is definitely dead and that means Church Mouse won the dead pool.” He announced. Groans and curses filled the bar and you got a few nasty glares. They didn’t bother you though, you were so good your name never even made it up on the dead pool. You got up and went to the bar to accept your reward.

“Alright, Mouse, $2000,” Weasel counted out the money in front of you and you accepted it with a small smile, “Nothing, no scream of happiness, not even a little word?”

“Shut up, leave me alone,” You grinned. Weasel was a friend… in loose terms. There was a reason you were called Church Mouse, mouse for short, you were as quiet as a church mouse. Most of the people in the bar had no idea what your voice sounded like. You just weren’t comfortable enough to talk around them. You preferred keeping to yourself. You only came to the bar for jobs and the dead pool. Weasel kept people from bothering you.

“Hellooo beautiful!” a voice called out as they came undoubtedly over to you. Weasel kept everyone from bothering you, everyone except Wade Wilson.

“I thought maybe you died,” you said with a smile.

“Ha ha, as if you could be so lucky,” he laughed, hands going to hold your waist.

“I don’t know, Wade. Tonight’s my lucky night. Snake Eyes died,” you grinned.

“Snaaaake!” Wade wailed out.

“As if he didn’t get enough of you Metal Gear Solid references when he was alive.”

“Well, you won, why don’t you take a pretty girl like me out for a night on the town.”

“I will, when I find a pretty girl like you around,” you threw back.

“Ouch,” he laughed.

“So this is what she’s really like?” Weasel asked, looking between the two of you amusedly. You rolled your eyes and put your money in your bag.

“Yes, but ssshh it’s a secret.”

“Shut up, Wade.” You laughed. You walked around him to leave. He took your hand and pulled you back.

“Wait, wait,” he spoke and you let him pull you back so you were in front of him again.

“What?”

“Balls in holes?”He asked.

“I want the big ass Panda.”

“Come on then.” he was running off to the exit as fast as he could. You let him drag you along, laughing all the while. As you walked about the arcade Wade held your hand pulling you along to whatever caught his eye at the moment. He was good enough at ski ball that he got the Giant Panda for you without any problem. As you walked back home you carried the panda with one arm while Wade continued to hold your hand.

“Yes! A jalapeno popper grilled cheese,” You laughed.

“I have never even thought of that! Are these the things you think up when you’re so quiet?”

“Some of the things.”

“You’re like a junk food Einstein.”

“Oh and you’d love my cherry crescents,” you continued.

“Oh I’d love to eat your cherry crescents,” he grinned wildly as the two of you headed up the stairs of your apartment. You punched him in the shoulder, all the while laughing.

“Wade! That’s not went a meant!”

“I mean it in whatever way you meant, and how I meant it too.”

“Fine, come on up and we’ll see what kind of cherry crescents you get.”

~Mod Lillian (Yo jalapeno popper grilled cheese is the best thing ever. And cherry crescents are those crescent rolls with chopped maraschino cherries inside with a cherry glaze. They are soo good. They are both things that I found out could exist at like 3 AM.)

Thicker than Water - Part 1

Masterlist

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)


Bucky x Reader series

Summary: Inspired by this post (x)
Being born and raised in a HYDRA family means you must be a devoted member to the organisation, carrying out orders with blind obedience. But after being assigned the suicide mission of being the Winter Soldier’s handler, you slowly start to question where your loyalties truly lie.

Warnings: Physical abuse, violence

Word Count: 1057

A.N: I know, I know… I still have two unfinished series which I haven’t updated in FOREVER and yet here I am posting another one. Truth is, I haven’t been feeling as good lately, both physically and emotionally but I’d been working on this story for a while and just wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoy it.

Dedicated to the beautiful Ella @buckysinthesinbin for putting up with my crazy self at ungodly hours <3 Thank you, love!

Originally posted by ofallingstar


Authentic obedience is never blind.


December, 1993
2047 hours

“Thirteen, twelve, eleven…”

The house was uncharacteristically loud for a Thursday night, with its rooms full of elegantly dressed people and the delicate clinking of champagne glasses mixing with bubbling laughter and the soft sound of a piano playing somewhere in the living room.

Only the sound of the children’s voices stood out, along with the thud of their steps as they ran through the house in order to find a hiding spot, little feet running over the hardwood floor.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

You were running out of time.

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Otome Sitch: Pregnancy Scare

Prompt brought to you by this Precious Anon. Here we go!

Rank: You’re sorry you even bothered

What you said: “…a little late, I think.”
What they heard: "Baby on the way!”

Before you can explain that you’re not sure yet, they’re already cartwheeling around the room in ecstasy. You exchange an exasperated side-eye with Nanny (Kanetsugu/Giles/Kirisato/Tadatsugu) and throw your hands into the air. They’ll figure it out eventually. 

Kenshin has thrown himself head-first into his room of requirement storage room, and started digging around, looking for the most beautiful of his treasures. To set aside as heirlooms, of course. He’s even sorting things properly so that he can accomplish his task. You start to say something, but find that Kanetsugu has snuck up behind you and clasped his hand firmly over your mouth. “Don’t you dare!” he breathes. “I’ve been trying to get him to clean this junk out forever!”

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Can the Marauders sing?
  • <b> Sirius:</b> can sing and will sing, all the time, everywhere.
  • <b> James:</b> can't sing, but still sings till your ears screech
  • <b> Remus: </b>can sing, but won't sing in front of anyone
  • <b> Peter:</b> can't sing, won't sing
  • <b> Lily:</b> can't sing, but knows all the lyrics and will correct you
4 | Red Skies

BTS WEREWOLF AU
WORD COUNT: 3,425 nice meaty chapter for u guys

WARNINGS: SWEARING, VIOLENCE, MENTAL HEALTH DETERIORATION, **RAPE, NON-CON, SEXUAL ABUSE** pls don’t read on if you are triggered by any of these. VERY EXTREMELY MASSIVELY MATURE THEMES 

Originally posted by dangerously-jamless

masterlist | ask | prev | next


“Quick, go down the stairs!” Jungkook shoved you through a secret doorway disguised as an antique bookshelf in his office, “You’ll be safe down there. Go all the way down to the bottom floor, don’t stop and don’t look back. I’ll come and get you once he’s gone.”
The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you to go down two flights of creaky stairs in the dark completely alone. After running down one flight of stairs you came to an abrupt stop when you saw a thin mahogany door that you were certain was behind an actual book shelf in the living room. Trying to be as quiet as possible you lingered round the door, listening in on the situation.

“Jimin! Ji-Yong?!” You clearly heard Namjoon shout at the top of his lungs, followed by lots of shuffling and pained groans.

Jimin had been shot.

“He got in my way.” An all too familiar menacing voice stated matter of factly, his tone was harsh and cold. He didn’t care at all.

“You little fucking rat! I’m going to fucking kill you!” Namjoon screamed, you’d never heard him sound so unbelievably angry before.

“He’s not going to die, I made my own bullets. They’re free from silver. I only wanted him to feel pain, if I wanted you all dead I would’ve killed you by now. For example, Layla, she didn’t last-”

“Don’t.” Namjoon warned, his voice sill raised but now shaking with fury, “Don’t you dare say her name.”

Namjoon’s mate.

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anonymous asked:

9, 12, or 46 if you still want suggestions for the prompts. also, i love your writing style. also, sorry for being awkward – i've never sent an ask before. greetings from munich!

I’ll post 12 and 46 in separate posts :) And thank you so much <3<3 you’re so sweet! You don’t seem awkward at all, no apology necessary. Did a fifth year fic.

9. “I’m more afraid of myself than you.”

Simon

Simon had been tracking Baz for months now and had very little to show for it. Once he had even caught up with Baz in the Catacombs but that had ended on a very strange and unsatisfactory note. Unfortunately Baz was better at hiding his vampirism than Simon had originally assumed he’d be. 

Tonight Simon had taken more precautions than ever before. Using a quiet as a mouse, Simon had made sure that even Baz’s vampire hearing wouldn’t catch the sound of his footsteps. Silently he maintained a careful distance from Baz as he weaved through the Wavering Wood. 

Simon hadn’t thought about what he would do if he caught Baz in the act. He was pretty sure that he was more likely to get lost than actually keep up with Baz, let alone catch him drinking blood. But he was determined to try his best and figure out the rest later. 

Simon paused as he realized that in getting caught up in his own thoughts he’d forgotten to pay attention to where he was going. What was worse, he wasn’t even sure he was still tracking Baz. He sighed. This was what Penny had warned him would happen. With a glance around him he determined that yes, he was lost and no, Baz was nowhere to be found. At least, that was what he thought.

Suddenly hands grabbed him behind and wrenched him backwards into a tree. Baz was glaring at him, his eyes burning with rage in the dark. Simon didn’t say anything, too shocked to come up with anything. Baz had not been there a second ago, he was almost certain of it. Plus, Simon was a solidly built guy; Baz should not have been able to throw him around like a rag doll. He knew vampires were strong and fast; but somehow he’d not truly believed Baz to be a vampire until this moment.

“What are you doing Snow?” Baz said.

“I-I told you. I told you I would find out.”

Baz seemed more likely to kill him than he had ever before. Simon knew this, yet he couldn’t shake the building excitement inside of him. There was something about the way Baz’s hand was gripping him and the blazing intensity in his eyes that had Simon’s nerves jumpy.

“And it never occurred to you that if you were right, chasing me into the forest was the worst possible thing you could do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Baz said with clenched teeth, “That if I’m a vampire, you’re dinner.”

Simon swallowed uncomfortably. As it turned out he hadn’t considered that Baz hunting would be dangerous to him. But it made sense. Why would Baz eat subpar rats if he could have a human being? A human being he hated, at that.

Baz’s eyes flickered to track the movement in Simon’s throat as he swallowed. He knew his Adam’s apple was obvious but he wasn’t sure what it had to do with Baz being hungry. 

“So what are you going to do?” Simon said.

Baz studied his face for what seemed like forever. Then he was loosening his grip and turning away.

“Just leave, okay?”

Simon knew he should listen, that it was time to go. But he couldn’t suppress the strange desire to push Baz further. He stepped forward with one hand reaching to Baz.

“What are you doing?” Baz said.

“I’m not sure,” Simon responded honestly.

He backed Baz up into a different tree. In truth, the rational part of Simon’s mind was screaming at him to run and never look back, and not just because of Baz being a vampire. No, there was something scarier hovering above them both in the wood, something that made Simon shiver with anticipation just as much as fear. 

“Snow….”

He glanced up and was surprised to see his feelings mirrored in Baz’s grey eyes.

“What?” He said.

Baz looked away from him.

“We can’t do this.”

“What is this?”

Baz’s eyes flashed.

“Even you can’t be that thick.”

Simon stepped forward, pinning Baz to the tree with his chest. There was something raging underneath his skin that was fighting to get out. He wanted to find purchase in the feeling of Baz’s skin, his hair, his mouth. 

“Why can’t we? Are you afraid of me?” Simon said.

Baz laughed coldly.

“Of you? Snow, I’m more afraid of myself than you.”

Baz said this while exposing his teeth in an eerie smile. His canine teeth were lengthened and sharp, Simon didn’t recoil, didn’t even pause to think about it. Instead, he leaned forward and pushed his fingers into Baz’s raven hair. Baz tensed, as if Simon were trying to hurt him, but didn’t tell him to stop. Simon looked into Baz’s eyes, giving him the chance to throw him off. When he didn’t Simon leaned forward and kissed him lightly, careful not to nick himself on Baz’s fangs.

Baz seemed uncomfortable, like kissing didn’t come naturally to him. But then Simon was opening Baz’s mouth and Baz didn’t seem so caught up in thinking anymore. He felt Baz’s hands reaching up to grip his neck, his cold lips insistent on his mouth. It was thrilling, more so than Simon would have thought possible hours before, and Simon realized dizzily that he had wanted this for a long time.

With a gasp Baz threw Simon off. Simon stumbled backwards but didn’t fight it. He knew if Baz needed him to back away it was serious. With a furtive glance he saw that Baz had his hands on his knees.

“I almost…bit you,” He said, voice breathless.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“I know.” Baz said.

They stared at each other, neither of them saying a thing. 

“You still afraid?” Simon asked.

Baz straightened and seemed to assess himself. After a moment he walked up to Simon and shyly grabbed his hand.

“Yes. But I don’t care anymore.”

Simon smiled and gripped Baz’s hand tightly.

“Good.”

Mac Ruaidh - Part Three

Part One, Part Two


It was too hot for Jamie to sleep. It had been years since Jamie slept in a proper bed in a proper room and it would take some time to get used to being close enough to a fire to keep properly warm. But he didn’t dare cross to open the window. Much as he would appreciate the relief of a bit of the January chill creeping in the room to counteract the effects of a hearth larger than the dimensions of the room required it to be, Jamie was terrified of what it might do to William sleeping nestled wrapped in blankets in the basket he’d arrived in earlier.

As his mind spiraled from William developing a cold to taking fever because of the open window, Jamie could feel the memory of Claire rolling her eyes before launching into a lecture about her germs and how it wasn’t cold temperatures that caused colds before finally conceding that yes, it would still probably be safer for him to keep the window shut.

There was another person who might object to such measures––the wet nurse Lady Dunsany had summoned, a young widow named Sabrina who had lost first her husband and then her three-month-old child to fever between Christmas and the New Year. The quiet woman had a cot of her own in an adjoining room she was sharing with one of the housemaids.

Lying awake and unmoving on the bed so as not to generate further heat, Jamie listened to the once familiar sounds of a house in the night. The logs in the hearth crackled quietly with occasional louder pops; the glass panes in the small window rattled whenever the wind picked up; the creaking floorboards in the hall and the cramped servants’ quarters beyond signaled other household staff moving about as they finally came to bed for the night or waking, made use of the chamber pot before resuming their unconscious states.

But the most prominent sound and the one that kept Jamie awake even as it calmed his nerves was the steady breathing and occasional groans of William beside him. Jamie would find some way to fashion a proper cradle for the baby before long but until then he refused to leave William’s basket on the floor while they both slept and instead had nestled the basket among the blankets on the bed. There was just enough space for the basket when Jamie lay on his back with one arm draped around the woven curve but he felt most reassured when he curled his body protectively around it; the fear of knocking the basket and its bairn out of the bed lessened significantly. But lying on his back was the easiest way to feel that it wasn’t just the bairn in the bed beside him. The sounds of the house weren’t dissimilar to those of Lallybroch and Sabrina’s snoring in the next room brought a smile to his lips and memories of Claire––and her insistence that it was he who snored and not her––to his tired mind.

There was a hitch in the baby’s breathing and Jamie snapped up to peer inside. William’s fist was in his mouth but he needed something that offered sustenance rather than succor. Jamie reached in and swept him up and cradled him to his chest before he could begin to truly fuss. The warmth of his father against his cheek lulled William long enough for Jamie to slip out of bed, ease open the door between his room and the women’s, and gently rouse Sabrina for William’s feeding.

He tended the fire while she sat in a stupor, William latched to her breast but her arms holding him stiffly and she wouldn’t look at him.

“Did you wake him to feed?” she asked as the need to switch William from one breast to the other temporarily roused her from her stupor.

Jamie glanced over, his gaze falling on the back of his son’s head as it turned in search of the rest of his meal. Grinning when the boy found it, Jamie suddenly realized he’d been essentially gawking at the poor woman’s exposed breast and looked away again, grateful that the resultant flush could be blamed on the heat of the fire before him.

“No,” he muttered, finally answering her question. “No, I didna wake him. I was restless myself and heard him rouse. I’m… I’m no used to sleepin’ in the house,” he confessed.

“Me either. Not a house this grand. Thank you, by the way, for catching him before he could cry.” Surprised, Jamie looked over to see her eyes fastened unblinking on the flames in the hearth, shining with sorrow. “If he’d cried… If I’d heard him cry like that I wouldn’t have realized it wasn’t…”

“What was yer bairn’s name? The one ye lost,” Jamie asked quietly, gently.

The reply came in a whisper. “Carina… her name was Carina.”

Jamie nodded and swallowed before telling her, “Faith. My wife and I lost a lass at birth… years ago now. She was called Faith.”

“When did you lose your wife?”

There were times Jamie could feel the shape and weight of every minute he’d spent without Claire; that he could stack them in piles reaching the ceiling and group them into the days, weeks, months, and years they’d been apart. And other times it was a distinctly unquantifiable mass that he couldn’t escape––would never escape… not until death.

“Years ago now,” he repeated knowing this young widow still enveloped in her own grief would be able to understand the struggle to find a way to carry on and live within grief’s muffling embrace.

“Thank ye,” he added a moment later. “For helpin’ wi’ my wee lad.”

Sabrina nodded and finally looked down at the infant suckling her breast. “He seems to be a strong one.” Her voice was hollow but she shifted her arms and her hold of William softened.

Whether the movement unsettled him or he had simply consumed his fill, William disengaged from Sabrina and promptly began to writhe and fuss.

Jamie was there in an instant and had him away from the wet nurse.

“He ate too fast,” she suggested, readjusting her shift and rising from the chair to return to bed. “Rub his back a bit and walk him about the room. He should settle back down.” The door between the rooms closed quietly and Jamie was left to calm his son on his own.

It still amazed him just how small and light the lad was, how fragile. And yet there was growing strength and coordination as Jamie felt William’s tiny arms pushing back against his collarbone and fighting to raise his head. The efforts exhausted him, however, and had failed to alleviate his discomfort. The stiff fingers of Jamie’s right hand held William’s small torso in place while his thumb swept back and forth across the back in a steady rhythm that reduced William’s cries to a weak whimper. Jamie felt the tension leak out of William as the bubble of gas worked its way up and out of his belly. Though the smell was faintly sour, there was no dampness on his shoulder so William’s meal had successfully stayed put.

Jamie grinned and rested his cheek lightly against the small head.

An eruption from his own stomach startled him and made him laugh.

“Now yer belly’s full, mine seems to want a bite too,” he murmured. In the confusion of arranging the room and bringing his things in from the loft, Jamie had only had a few quick bites of supper in passing and hadn’t been able to take an extra bit of bread or cheese to have later as was his habit. “What say we take a short walk down to the kitchens, eh?” he told William, laying the baby on the bed long enough to pull on a pair of breeks.

William stretched, his body arching briefly and the blanket that had wrapped him slid off his legs so that his feet were exposed to the cold. The toes curled and he reflexively drew the limbs back closer to his body and the warmth of his core. Jamie pounced at the opportunity and quickly swaddled the baby as tightly as he dared, grateful to escape having to pin William’s arms and legs in place himself.

“Now, ye must be quiet as a wee mouse looking for scraps left by the kitchen maids,” Jamie whispered as he eased his way into the corridor with William tucked into the crook of one arm. William squirmed and emitted a small mouse-like squeak that made Jamie smile broadly.

The fires in the kitchen were never allowed to go out for the sake of practicality so the large room was invitingly warm even as Jamie’s bare feet slipped from the wooden steps of the servants’ back stair to the cool flat stones that lined the kitchen floor’s outer edges; as he moved closer to the main preparations table and the fire, they grew warmer to the touch.

“Is everything all right?” a voice inquired from a seat near the window.

Jamie spun to see Lord John with a fork in one hand and a plate in the other, a half-finished piece of mincemeat pie resting neatly upon it.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he closed them before looking down to check William hadn’t been disturbed by the abrupt movement. “Aye,” he said in a low even tone. “We’re fine.” The calm that had been on him as he made his way down to the kitchen––the peace of a household at rest––had fallen away. The surprise of Grey’s presence and the anticipation of a conversation he did not wish to have had sent a jolt through his system so that the pangs of his hunger were forgotten as a rush of other information flooded his senses. There were three ways out of the kitchen, the nearest being the stairs at his back, but those would only lead him deeper into the house as would the door in the far left corner; the door to the far right corner would lead to the yard and open air but Grey was still closer to both than he was and Lord John held nothing more dear than stale pie left from an elaborate dinner; it being a kitchen though, there were plenty of implements that could be used as weapons. None of which should matter because there was no real threat to either himself or the baby and yet as he stepped closer to the table––Grey having risen and carried his plate back with a gesture inviting Jamie to join him in his midnight snack––Jamie was able to do so with the steady sureness of someone prepared for anything.

Grey cut a second piece of pie from the leftovers and set the plate near the fire for a few moments to heat up. Jamie busied himself by tending to William, readjusting his blankets and settling him more firmly in the crook of his right arm.

Grey set the plate and a fork in front of Jamie. “Do you need me to hold him while you eat?”

Jamie took the fork up easily in his left hand and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He took care not to smile as Grey blinked with amazement at Jamie’s ability to eat left-handed.

They ate in a silence that grew increasingly tense as each waited the other out to see who would broach the subject first.

“Why in God’s name did you agree to this arrangement?” Grey finally asked, setting his own fork down forcefully. “Did you hope to buy favor with Lord Dunsany and his wife by volunteering a solution that would allow them to see their grandson? Because if you hoped this would win their support in petitioning on your behalf for being released from your parole, I’m afraid you’ll find it will actually have the opposite effect. They’ll want you here indefinitely if your leaving means you’ll take that boy with you. And if you simply wanted better treatment you need only have brought any mistreatment to my attention and I would have had a word with Lord Dunsany on the matter.”

“Are ye through?” Jamie asked when it appeared Grey was losing steam.

Grey let out a frustrated huff and picked up his fork again but only poked at the cooling piece of mince meat pie, the crust flaking off and making a mess in the pooling grease on the plate.

“I dinna expect ye to understand why I did it,” Jamie told him. “It doesna matter to me if ye do or no.”

“What do you expect you can offer this boy in your circumstances? It’s noble to offer to be a father to an orphaned child but––”

“I was a father long before this wee lad here,” Jamie interrupted firmly. “I became a father the day my wife told me she was with child. I didna stop being a father simply because the child was lost… no more than I stopped bein’ my father’s son the day he died. Ye dinna stop bein’ what ye were when circumstances change––ye can become more than what ye were before but ye dinna become less except by choice… except by how ye choose to see yerself.”

“That’s a noble philosophy but it doesn’t address the question of how you’ll provide for the boy––and I don’t just mean physically or monetarily,” Grey added. “The Dunsanys will see to both your needs as much as they can for the boy’s sake––with plenty of strings involved, I’m sure––but what do you plan to tell him? About his mother? About yourself? Christ, Jamie, I’m the only one here who even knows your true name.”

“I’ll tell him as much of the truth as I can but I’ll no lie to him,” Jamie informed Grey. “When he’s older and I’m able to take him far enough from Helwater for it to make no difference, I’ll tell him everything.”

Grey was shaking his head, still unconvinced.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Grey finally said, rising from the table and dumping the last few bites of his pie into the fire. It flared up as the flames ignited the grease.

Jamie chuckled and Grey’s head spun to watch him in confusion. “Of course I dinna ken what I’m doing––no father does. It’s something ye learn as ye go, same as most things. But this lad is mine and I’ll do what it takes to keep him safe and raise him well… even askin’ for help if and when I need it.” Grey’s eyes narrowed. “I ken that Lord and Lady Dunsany will no want to see the lad go from them and it willna matter what his age or what rumors follow him. But I also ken it wasna their influence that saw me paroled here rather than transported.”

Jamie let the weight of his observation and the as yet unasked favor underlying it to settle.

Grey’s mouth dropped slightly open for a moment before he shut it again. He nodded his understanding and reminded Jamie, “You will let me know of any concerns that arise during my quarterly visits.”

anonymous asked:

I challenge you to a drabble of a Reylo lovechild asking mommy and daddy how they met please and thanks

And so Coupdedoop discovered then, that she had no idea how to write a three year old. For she herself, has hardly ever interacted with one. Hope you like this Nonny! It was done pretty quickly but almost too quickly… so I’m hoping it’s alright!


“And so, Cinderella and the Prince were married, and lived happily ever after. The, End.“

“Mama! Read it again!” Rey smiled and hugged the small bouncing child tight.

“Padmé that’s the second time we’ve read you that story! How about you pick another?”

Padmé pouted and shook her head, dark curls bouncing into a mess that Rey would have to brush out before Padmé fell asleep.

“But Mama, it’s my best! I want my princess story!”

Kylo laughed from behind the two-leaning in the doorway.

“Then how about a story about your mother?” Padmé stared at her mother with wide hazel eyes-mouth hanging open in shock.

“Mama? Mama’s a princess?”

Rey rolled her eyes and smirked at Kylo.

“No. Mamas not a princess, my lovely.”

“You’re absolutely right!” Kylo strode over to the bed, sitting down at the end, trying not to take up too much space on the child’s bed. “She’s a queen now. After all, she married a prince didn’t she?”

Rey snorted, giggling slightly at Kylo’s corny expression.

“Prince! Oh, that’s funny.”

Padmé lightly tugged on Rey’s shirt, demanding her full attention.

“Mama! Mama?”

Rey smiled lovingly at her daughter.

“Yes, dearest?”

“How did you and Papa meet?”

Rey raised a brow, and smirked, turning over to look at her husband, who twiddled his thumbs innocently.

“Ask Papa.”

Kylo shot a put-off look at Rey, and sighed, putting on an exaggerated dreamy smile and reaching over to push hair from Rey’s face.

“You see, Padmé, it was fate. I had been having dreams about Mama for a very long time before we met. I knew that we were meant to be together. So one day, Papa went to go find his lovely princess.”

Rey rolled her eyes, sitting back with Padmé who eagerly sat at attention, drinking in her father’s every word.

“I searched high and low for her, but to no avail.”

Padmé wilted slightly, lip trembling.

“Until,”

She instantly brightened up, eager once again and shaking with excitement. Rey couldn’t hold back her grin, watching Padmé bounce with joy.

“I found her. On a beautiful green planet by a large stone castle.”

Padmé gasped and looked at Rey in shock.

“Mama IS a princess!”

Rey shook her head.

“It was Maz’s castle, sweetie. Mama’s not a princess.”

Padmé didn’t seem at all discouraged by this however. In fact she seemed to ignore it in its entirety in favour of believing her mother was true royalty.

“Papa! What happened next?” She demanded, reaching out for her father.

Kylo instantly reached back, taking Padmé into his arms and holding her up above him as he flopped back onto the bed.

“One of Papa’s soldiers told Papa where the princess was, and I went to go find her in the forest. Silly thing was running away, can you believe that, pumpkin?”

Padmé giggled and waved her arms about, enjoying the airtime her father provided.

“Mama ran away? Like Cinderella!”

“Yes! Just like Cinderella!”

Rey groaned, crawling down the bed a bit to sit beside her husband, who looked up at her with a ridiculous grin.

Rey didn’t really have the heart to tell Padmé that she was running from a warlord. Not a prince. That would be a story for another day.

“Finally, I caught up to the princess, and do you know what she did?”

Padmé shook her head, but was clearly enraptured and desperate to find out.

“What? What did Mama do?”

“She shot at me!”

Padmé’s face dropped, and she turned to glare at Rey.

“Mama?!”

Rey froze, not at all expecting the story to take this turn.

“Oh- uh-”

“Papa was forced to defend himself! And fight his precious princess!” Kylo moaned on, in an over the top voice designed to entertain.

“Mama, why?! Papa must have been so sad!” Kylo sat up, placing Padmé into his lap and nodding solemnly. Expression grave as stone he was about to be buried under should he not shut the hell up.

“I was very sad Padmé. And it didn’t stop there!”

“If papa wants to live it probably should.” Rey hissed.

Padmé shot a dark look at Rey- looking far too much like a younger version of herself.

“Mama should apologise to Papa!”

Rey stared at Padmé, quiet as a mouse. She couldn’t quite comprehend what just happened. Truly she didn’t expect this story to take such a turn. She glared at Kylo.

“I’m sorry Papa.”

Kylo bit back a grin, and nodded.

“Thank you Mama, I appreciate that.” He leaned in to give Rey a kiss, and she turned, lips to his ear.

“You’re the one who will be sorry later.”

anonymous asked:

can't we be together forever?

(I think I did pretty damn good imitating her style check this out)

“Can’t we be together forever?” I pleaded, clinging desperately to JD’s seven thousand dollar designer trench coat. He smelled like some ridiculously expensive perfume that was handcrafted by angels themselves.
“I’m sorry, Veronica” he uttered softly, his voice like silk. Orgasmic silk. “I’m too damaged. What with my whole vampire thing and all.”
I stared deeply into his bright golden irises, and I nearly fainted. They were so…bright.
He turned suddenly, faster than lightning. I could see him quiver with Teen Angst. Well, 100 year old angst. Same difference.
When he turned around, there were diamonds on his marble face.
“JD,” I murmured, quiet as a mouse. My best friend from fourth grade, Sarah, always told me I had mousey hair. I’m so Plain, why would JD want anything to do with me?
“Veronica,” he glowered. “I can’t resist you. You’re like my own personal brand of cocaine. My human slushie.”
“JD,” I breathed. His gemstone eyes were piercing mine, and I felt lightheaded. “Please, turn me. I want to be by your side for all of eternity.”
JD gazed at me for a moment before turning his head, his dark eyelashes brushing his cheek. In a deep, rich voice, he whispered:
“Nah.”