#napfic

[endemictoearth]

Hey I remember a fic about finn and Rae working together and going to his flat everyday for a nap and his room mate was an ass. Do you know who wrote it or what it was called? Please and thanks!

That sounds like my own fic, Tables Turn. You can also read it on AO3, if that’s your preferred fic delivery method. 

Is there another Frae napfic I’m forgetting about? 

[golden-geese]

napfic time lads!!!!!!!

thanks anon for requesting here!!!!!!! 

2009 2:37 p.m. A Monday

 Mac yawns.

 “No,” Dennis says almost immediately, hitting the heel of his palm against the side of his steering wheel for emphasis. “Cut that shit out, Mac. We have to focus.”

 “Dude, I can’t just not yawn,” Mac protests, yawning again as if just to spite Dennis. “I can’t help it. Just ignore it.”

 “I can’t ignore it, you idiot, you yawn so loud it’s impossible to focus on anything else,” Dennis snaps. “If you yawned like a normal person I would be able to ignore it but you yawn so loud I can’t. So stop it.”

 “Oh my god,” Mac says, rolling his eyes. “Can we just move past it?”

 Dennis huffs a little, but, for all intents and purposes, he moves past it.

read the rest on ao3!!! (1,847 words)

[erikalwilliams]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Additional Tags: Fluff, History, The Sound of Music - Freeform, Eden - Freeform, Apples, Ducks, Temptations, Napping, Five Times, Snake!Crowley - Freeform Summary:

Five times Crowley tried to tempt Aziraphale to a nap (and one time he succeeded).

1. Eden 2. The Great Flood 3. Vatican City

[xigbarforever]

Trio Of Towns: Hurricane Season

Ford was a nervous wreck as he paced the shiny floorboards of the farmhouse. He could hear the wind howling outside, branches and small stones being thrown against the walls and windows by the storm that had picked up during the night. He’d been upset when his wife had gotten up at the normal hour that morning, surprised that she was still going out to perform her normal chores, and for good reason! This was a hurricane raging outside; all three towns would be battening down their curtains for the day.

“I need to at least take care of the animals,” she argued, that sweet smile he’d fallen for creeping over a face that was still half asleep. “I promise it’ll be a short day.”

That had been hours ago. The doctor had never felt quite so helpless seeing his tough farmer wife slip out the door, racing down to the lowest fields to make sure the livestock were taken care of for the day. He was a doctor: He didn’t know which end of the pitchfork to use or else he would have followed her out past the rows of melons and corn and flowers. But in times of inclement weather, it was best to have personnel stationed someplace to take care of those who would be pulled out of the muck and mire. It didn’t help his nerves that she was pregnant with their first child, less than twelve weeks into the incubation of their son or daughter.

A pot of tea and fresh porridge was on the stone counter. He didn’t know why the game manor was done in an eastern style, he and his wife were from Westown, not Tsuyukasa. Maybe she just liked the look? He was waiting for the bath to fill with hot water, and he was doing his best not to vibrate out of his skin. What was taking so long? She had four barns, but they were all right next to one another. Did the llama get out again maybe? The foul animal was quite the con artist after all...

His thoughts screeched to a halt as the door opened, letting in a howling wind as his wife slipped in as fast as she could, panting as she leaned against the wall as the lock engaged with a snick. Blue eyes took in the site of her husband, and the farmer girl could only offer a sheepish smile, one hand on the wall and the other holding the lip of her dress to form a large pocket. Golden ears of corn contrasted against black and white stripes, the first harvest of the season. “I had to pick it before the storm ruined it,” she offered, blush painting over her cheeks.

Ford’s lips thinned as he marched up to her, gloves stripped away as he went into professional mode, taking in her pallor, temperature, the trembling in strong limbs. “Your core temperature has dropped, you have not had anything to eat this morning per usual, and you concerned yourself with vegetables?” He shook his head as he scooped up the offending produce and pointed her at the bathroom. “Get in the tub; do not come out till your core temp is back to nominal levels.”

“It’s sexy when you go into doctor mode,” she teased, but she was already pushing away from the wall to stagger into the warm bathroom, fingers plucky clumsily at the buttons of the dress. Ford could cluck at her all he wanted, but in this case a hot bath sounded heavenly.

She was feeling human again half an hour later, the resort clothes she liked to wear at the end of the day magnitudes better than the sopping wet dress drying in the bathroom. Ford was a little calmer now, but he still planted her down at the table, milk tea and porridge placed in front of her. “I may not be the best cook, but anything is better to nothing,” he scolded before returning to half shucked corn.

“It tastes great cause you made it sweetie,” she smiled, digging into the food with gusto. Now that her temperature was back up, she found herself ravenous. She found that she was running her free hand over her stomach. She was nearing the end of the first trimester and glad that the dizziness and nausea hadn’t lasted long.

Her worried husband took in that sight, sighing as he laced their fingers together. “I know I can’t stop you, but can you please take better care of yourself?”

The farmer girl could only sigh, pushing the empty bowl away and pulling the tall blond down into a hug. “Lie down with me? I need a nap,” she whispered, eyes already sliding shut.

Those long fingers cupped her forehead again, and Ford nodded after a second. “You’re stabilized, it’s safe to fall asleep. Sweetheart, please promise me,” he coaxed, knowing when she was trying to dodge a subject.

A heavy sigh. “I’m always going to help people. I can only promise to try.”

That was good enough for the doctor. With a small yelp, he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her over to the bed and depositing her between the sheets. He joined her after hanging up his lab coat, put on that morning out of habit, and she sighed as she sank into that delicious warmth. He seemed like a cold man, but her Ford was only awkward around people. She could see his warm heart, and was glad she had taken the time to get to know him.

Outside the storm raged on. The cows down the hill mooed in protest, the tomato and corn plants danced in the wild winds, and the windmills for the various stations around the farm creaked angrily as they tried to spin faster and faster, stopped only by the locks on their wheels. And in the farm house two souls snugged together as the light faded away, a third spark flowing between them as they nodded off to the sounds of the world trying to blow them away.

[golden-geese]

mac and dennis are sleepy bitches ch. 3 repost; read on ao3

2007 4:15 p.m. A Sunday

As he folds his laundry, Mac goes through the list. Dennis and Dee’s mom is dead. Their real dad is crazy or something (Mac never got a straight answer on that one) and the next best thing is Frank. Charlie’s mom is overbearing. He grew up without a dad, and then recently found out that his dad is probably Frank. Collectively, the gang could count all their living parents or parent proxies on one hand: Mac’s mom, Mac’s dad, Charlie’s mom, Bruce Mathis, and Frank. Mac is the only one with two confirmed living parents. He goes through the list again and again and again, much like he spent all last night doing-- except this time, he’s dealing with a pile of laundry on his unmade bed, not tossing and turning and flipping his pillow over.

 He’s been letting his laundry pile up. He only even started doing it today because he realized he was literally on his last pair of socks. He let it pile up for so long it turned out to be like four loads-- and then he washed the towels too, because if you’re already doing laundry, you might as well wash the towels too. It’s an unkempt mountain on his bed; tee shirts and pants and underwear and socks and towels. He’s just been adding to the pile all day, never stopping to fold between loads.

 Anyway. Dennis and Dee’s mom is dead, and their fake dad is Frank, and their real dad is apparently some weirdo. Charlie’s mom is bonkers and his dad is probably Frank too. Mac has two living breathing parents.

 So, he wonders bitterly as he shakes out a pair of jeans, why does he feel like he has the shittiest deal of them all? Dennis and Dee might as well be orphans, and Charlie’s mom is even crazier than Charlie. It doesn’t make sense, he tells himself. It doesn’t make sense that he’s so damn ungrateful and mushy about all of this.

 Anyway, Mac is the one responsible for his dad getting locked up again. He’s probably the worst son in the whole world, he figures as he folds a pair of black pants.

 (remembers, when his dad got out of prison last week, how he went in for a hug and his dad said “don’t touch me”)

 (yeah, mac figures; he’s definitely the worst son in the whole world)

 Because what kind of son gets their dad arrested? All he’d wanted was to take Mac and Charlie to the baseball hall of fame in New York. He’d even bought them all tickets. And now this. Brows furrowed, jaw set, Mac folds a tee shirt. Adds it to the uneven stack.

 His dad doesn’t love him, though. Couldn’t possibly, what with the whole “I’m going to kill you” fiasco.

 (i have mom though, he reasons)

 (and charlie and dennis)

 (and poppins)

 Now that Mac thinks about it… Charlie might not actually love him. He did sabotage the whole dinner party thing. And Dennis is always so wrapped up in his own shit, who’s to say if he loves anyone. Poppins is the only one Mac is sure loves him, and Poppins is a street mutt who’s missing half the time.

 Sighing, he folds the next shirt. He loves Charlie and Dennis and his parents and even probably Dee. He loves all of them, even though they probably don’t love him back. Has so much goddamn love for them it’s bursting out of his chest-- and he shows it, too. By bringing Charlie a Red Bull when they were in high school, or complimenting Dennis when he’s being grumpy, or even just by paying attention and understanding. He’s told them he loves them, too, every so often. Wonders if he’s ever heard it back once. Probably not.

 (whatever.)

 Sulking a little, he reaches for the pile and picks up the next shirt. Starts to fold it; frowns, realizing it isn’t his. Turns it around in his hands. It’s a soft button-down, striped with white and light blue. Nicer quality than any of Mac’s clothes. A size bigger to accommodate broad shoulders. Dennis.

 He straightens the sleeve out. You don’t fold button-down shirts, right? You have to hang them up so they don’t get wrinkled. He straightens his shoulders. Makes the executive decision. Heads to Dennis’ room.

 “Hey, Dennis?” Mac asks, knocking.

 “What,” a muffled voice comes.

 He nudges the door open. Catches sight of Dennis, shirtless-- Dennis, standing in front of his dresser mirror, a weird frown at his lips.

 “Your shirt got into my laundry somehow,” Mac explains, tossing it to him.

 Dennis doesn’t catch it. Watches it billow its way to the floor. Mac watches too, before turning his eyes back to Dennis. Droopy eyes. Pale skin. Messy hair.

 “You okay, dude?” Mac asks cautiously.

 “Fine,” Dennis responds, barely audible.

 “You… sure?”

 “Fine,” Dennis insists.

 Mac watches him a moment longer. Nods once. “I’ll… leave you to it, then, I guess.”

 He takes a step back; re-installs himself in the doorway-- but doesn’t leave the room.

 Footsteps in the hall. Yelling outside. Always yelling outside.

 He stands there for probably an hour. “Have you eaten?”

 “Dinner? Have I eaten dinner? No, I’m not hungry,” Dennis says emptily.

 “No,” Mac says-- “I mean, like, have you eaten… today?”

 Dennis swallows. Meets Mac’s eyes for a tenth of an instant. “Why do you care?”

 “I mean-- you gotta eat, dude. Or you’ll, like, die,” Mac says dumbly.

 “Oh, is that how science works? Is it? Are you a doctor? Is your name doctor… science?” Dennis sneers, his voice cracking.

 Mac blinks. “When’s the last time you ate?”

 “This morning.”

 “For real?”

 “Yes.”

 “Okay,” Mac says, deciding it’s probably just easier to believe Dennis and keep an eye on the situation. “‘Cause I know you were being weird about… y’know, the whole thing where you looked like that pedo…”

 “I don’t look like that pedo,” Dennis insists. “He’s fat. I’m not. I’m chiseled.”

 “Yeah,” Mac says quickly. “You’re super chiseled, man. You’re so chiseled it’s ridiculous. You’re hot.”

 Heat immediately smoke-bombs in his chest. The last two words fell out of his mouth without his brain’s consent.

 Dennis is staring at him now, eyes somewhat narrowed. “You think so?”

 “Yeah,” he says. Clears his throat. “You know. In, like, a totally platonic bro kinda way. Like, objectively, do I think you’re attractive? Yes. Objectively, yeah, I do.” He gestures vaguely.

 “Thanks,” Dennis says, nodding a tiny amount. “You know, your opinion means a lot to me.”

 “Really?”

 “Oh, yeah.”

 (maybe dennis does love mac)

 “Cool.”

 (maybe dennis just shows it weird. he totally loves mac. yeah. mac was stupid to ever think otherwise)

 Dennis yawns.

 Mac catches it.

 “Sorry,” Mac says, even though Dennis yawned first and apologizing for yawns isn’t really a thing people do. “I didn’t sleep, like, at all last night.”

 “Me neither,” Dennis admits.

 “Think I’m gonna take a nap, actually,” Mac adds. Yawns again, now that he’s thinking about how tired he is.

 “That’s a good idea. Maybe I will too.”

 “Oh, shit-- my bed is covered in laundry,” he sighs. “Nevermind, I guess.”

 Dennis’ jaw tilts a little. He half-shrugs. “You can use my bed, if you want.”

 “Really?”

 “I don’t see why not.”

 His voice is still all weird and quiet. But at least he’s talking.

 “Okay, dude,” Mac says, nodding. “Thanks.”

 It’s an awkwardly choreographed shuffle, to casually get in the same bed as your best friend, but they do it. It’s a big bed, at least-- they can both settle in comfortably without even feeling that the other is there. A soft bed too, Mac thinks as he nestles into it-- soft and warm and inviting. Probably because it was expensive. Mac bought his mattress at Kmart. It was on sale.

 He hears Dennis’ breathing change. Tunes into it as he drifts off himself.

 +

 Dennis wakes up ten percent. Feels arms around him, warmth against his skin-- becomes another ten percent more alert. A hookup. Some girl he met at Paddy’s or some other bar-- no doubt a big-breasted woman with glossy lips, wearing one of those silky pink and black spaghetti-strap tops girls are always wearing with their low-rise jeans. But why is she all wrapped around him instead of vice versa?

 He wakes up another thirty percent. Now he’s fifty percent awake, for anyone keeping track. It’s Mac who’s snuggled around him. Right.

 Whatever, he thinks, resigning himself. He opens his eyes for a second just to make sure it is in fact Mac. Relaxes his muscles again. If he lets on that he’s awake, if he disturbs Mac’s sleep-- Mac will leave. The warmth is nice. Whatever.

 +

 It’s not like Mac meant to wrap his entire body around Dennis’. It’s not like you can help what you do while you’re sleeping.

 But, considering he’s already in this position, it would be rude to move now. Dennis is still asleep, after all, even though Mac woke up. It would just be inconsiderate.

 Anyway, Mac’s mind is finally quiet. He finally feels relaxed. It would just be stupid to ruin that.

[golden-geese]

omg what’s this??? did tumblr user golden-geese write a new napfic? newsflash assholes here is the dealing w stigmata post- ‘dennis reynolds: an erotic life’ napfic that an anon requested many moons ago!!!!!!!!!!

[golden-geese]

early 2000s fashion!! laundry!!! mac being way more in touch w his feelings than he is canonically!!! dennis being a vain bitch!!! read my latest napfic on ao3!!

[golden-geese]

oh hey what’s that is it a new napfic?? stuffing it down with some brown! charlie shaming! the range rover as a sanctuary! almost addressing trauma! fuck mac!

thanks to @glennjaminhow for requesting this napfic!