#it would have been easy if not for my “brilliant” idea to remove the head to make it easier to paint

[crocswithoutsocks]

I found out there was an anteater LPS so obviously the only logical thing to do was go and buy one immediately and make it into Flint. My phone hates me so pictures are bad but look!!!!! That's a little guy!!!!!

#toontown corporate clash #ttcc #firestarter #lps custom #I thought this would be easy #it would have been easy if not for my “brilliant” idea to remove the head to make it easier to paint #i could not for the life of me get that thing back on #tried boiling water to soften the plastic which a) didn't work and b) MESSED UP ALL OF MY PAINT #so I had to do basically the ENTIRE head over again #poor guy had to go through emergency surgery like three times #eventually got the head back on tho! even if I had to cut it open in like three different places to do it... #the worst of its under his hat dont worry about it #planning on making Graham too at some point #just trying to figure out what animal i should make him #theres no cheetah but there is a jaguar and that's both pretty cheetah adjacent and easily purchasable by me #otherwise a bunny maybe? I think I like cheetah better but we'll have to see

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name | Before we grew up

A/N: Hey! Back with another addition to the George and Birdie universe since it was so well loved!! Honestly, the whole thing still surprises me and the fact that some of you wanted more of them actually made my heart hurt!! But I've missed them and writing this brought me a whole lot of joy, so I hope you enjoy! If this does well or it’s wanted I might write a few more like this sooo let me know x

Flashback moments | 'Before we grew up'.

“Okay, so when you’re ready just let go of the brake.”

I blinked, holding the steering wheel with an undeniable grip. “Right.” I murmured but didn’t make a move to follow the words.

George, whose brilliant idea this had all been, sat in the passenger seat of his dad’s Volkswagen, buckled in and attempting to exude an air of calm I really didn’t feel.

“You gonna let go?” He asked me after a long minute passed.

I swallowed thickly and removed my stare from where it’d been burning a hole in the windscreen so that I could look over at him. “How do I know when I’m ready?” I asked him and really didn’t appreciate the laugh he gave in return. I scowled. “What’s so funny about this? It’s a valid question!”

George just shook his head and exhaled breathily, obviously trying his best to dim the amused smile he now wore, “Honestly B, you’re just overthinking this and besides, you have it easy. It’s an automatic, barely have to do a thing.”

My scowl deepened. “Barely ‘ave to do a fing.” I mimicked in an accent similar to his deep drawl, it was his turn to frown then. I merely smiled sweetly.

“I’mma ignore that for now, ‘cause you’re a twat.” George retorted, “But also ‘cause I need to get the car back before dad notices it’s gone. So, can we get a move on?”

I inhaled deeply and fought off a whine that wanted to escape me- who the fuck said driving was easy?

“G, I’m being dead serious right now.”

He simply snorted, humoured by my anxieties, “I know, babe, and you’re doing so well.” I raised a brow at that and he smiled, “What? You are! You’ve turned the thing on, ain’t you?”

I took a hand off the wheel just to swat him, “Hilarious.” Before I was gripping it again once more, “Come on, just give me a count down or summat.” 

G shook his head and looked towards the sky, as though anyone up there cared for the likes of us, then he sighed, “Fine, on three yeah? Then you let go of the brake and go.”

“On three.” I agreed with a nod, though it sounded breathy even to my own ears.

George reached out a hand to squeeze my thigh, probably in hopes to spur some proper motivation into me but all it did was make me think back to the previous evening when he’d had a free house. I shook my head, along with the thoughts of his hands and his lips, and settled into my seat with a newfound determination as I looked out onto the road.

It wasn’t as though it was anything too terrifying, I didn’t even have to bare left or right, just keep going straight. But still, I had the horrible feeling that this would be the thing that would seal my fate- imminently, or when George’s dad finally got home to find that his car had a barge pole sticking out of its front. 

I released a shaky breath.

“Okay- one, two…”

And on three I finally let my foot slip away from the pedal, screaming a little to myself as the car began to roll.

“Yes, Birdie!” George grinned over at me, bouncing in his seat as he moved, “Now the accelerator.”

I laughed stiltedly, eyes wide as I pressed down on the other pedal, feeling the car bob at the sudden pressure.

“Easy.” George corrected but he was still smiling away, hand tapping at my leg. “Good girl. See? You’re doing it!”

And I was. I really was.

“Oh shit- break, break!” He then shouted out and I slammed on the brake pedal hard enough to have us both jerking forward in our seats, though the cat that was crossing the road continued in its languid stroll, barely even sparing us a glance.

It was after that I let go of the jittery excitement I felt, heart beating a mile a minute and my grin kilowatt. “Fuck.” I giggled, then glanced over to my left. G seemed to follow the former motion, chuckling to himself whilst we sat in the middle of a side road full of dimmed townhouses. “I wanna go again.” I told him. 

He snorted, shaking his head and grinning. “Thought you were shitting yourself a second ago?”

I shrugged, not caring in the slightest how much truth his statement held. “Can we?”

G huffed another chuckle but ultimately dipped his head, “Go on then, when we get to the garages I’ll walk you through parking.”

“Alright, but only if I can do a doughnut or somethin’ first.” I countered, like I had any authority here. But George just laughed and said nothing more whilst I went to pull away from a stop once more.

–

Christmas was always a hectic time of year. No one could deny me that. But since my dad’s passing, it had become a holiday that always came too quickly and dragged on for too long. This year though, this year was gonna be different.

See, I’d been living at Matty’s since the summer after the ‘incident’ as I liked to call it- everyone else seemed to roll their eyes at the name though. And whilst staying with them I'd come to realise a few things about myself.

Firstly, I loved all kinds of food.

Sure a strange thing to find out at my age, but I had an excuse! Alright? Staying with mum I’d pretty much had to feed myself and with money so scarce we’d only ever really had enough for the basics, or at least I did. Most of mum’s boyfriends had practically kept the food they liked under lock and key, even though nine times out of ten they hadn't been the ones to buy it. And so, this meant that I hadn’t had much opportunity to branch out, to get a feel for anything that wasn't canned, bagged, or frozen.

Secondly, I had a tad bit of childhood trauma lagging behind me. Most of which I’ll spare you the intimate details from, but that had an impact on the things I did even when I felt safe. Like, I hated not knowing if there was someone new stopping at the house, made me feel all itchy in truth. And the way I went out of my way to make sure I’d locked everything was a bit much; windows, my bedroom door, the backdoor, the front door, the bathroom door, the side gate. At one point I’d been stressing over the front entrance late at night but had felt too stupid to go and make a check to see if it was in fact closed, which had resulted in me waking Matty up to help me deal with a panic attack.

And thirdly, I had no idea how normal people spent Christmas.

This came to light when I’d all but baulked at the many traditions not just Matty and his family had, but also the rest of the lads. 

Ross and his lot often ate their Christmas roast at lunch time then went out for a chinese later on that night. How they had the room for it, I have no idea. Hann, on the other hand, was dragged back and forth between all of his family members on the twenty-sixth instead of the fifth, due to extended family coming to visit from all other parts of the country. 

Denise had a list of things she loved to do this time of year.

She’d set up a nativity outside, alongside the rest of the lights and usual decorations for the neighbours to come see. She ordered a real fur tree and then sent the boys out to go collect it with their dad once the day came. It was humongous and dropped needles everywhere, but was oh so beautiful. They always decorated it as a family, taking turns to put the topper on and finding the best branches to place sentimental ornaments. Stockings were hung by the fireplace with initials hand stitched on. And chefs typically came to cater Christmas day.

Gifts were also a big thing.

A very BIG thing.

As in, they were all so lovely and thoughtful to the point that Matty and his younger brother would have an actual meeting over what to get their mum and dad- which had melted my fucking heart, because what?

This year, I’d been forced upon them. But instead of making me feel like an intruder, they did what they always did and made me feel like one of their own.

“Love, will you get that for us?” Denise called out to me just as the doorbell went, “It’ll only be the postman.”

I smiled and nodded, happy to be of some help whilst she sent herself into a tizzy over tinsel. There’d been many deliveries as of late, so I was pretty much used to adding to the post-pile that was going on in the downstairs office.

Wandering out of the kitchen I padded over to the front door, opening it only to find that the postman wasn't there at all.

I blinked stupidly at the sight I was met with, a bright pink cab had taken over the majority of Denise’s driveway and getting out of the backseat was only my Nana.

The door handle fell from my grasp as I stepped forward on instinct, unsure of what the hell was even happening. “Nana?”

The older woman smiled over at me, eyes twinkling with mirth. Then a voice shouted out and I spotted a head of bright red curls fly out from behind the car’s boot to greet me, “Aunt Del too, Dove!”

“What?” I muttered, still so bewildered, but then I caught sight of another familiar face, a face that I didn’t think I'd be seeing until tomorrow. “Did you do this?”

George just chuckled softly, stepping closer to help my Nana over the gravel walkway, but he wasn’t the one who replied to my question. “Came down to fetch us, din’t he?” Nana replied in his stead, stretching a hand out once she got close enough, I blinked again and hurried to take it.

“He did?” I heard myself murmur, still so in shock. Practically rocking with the explosion of it.

Nana gave a sweet laugh, wrapping me up in a much needed hug and pressing a gentle kiss to my head before she pulled away, “Phoned us up a bit ago, wanted to surprise ya, darlin’.”

“Well, God. I’m surprised, that’s for sure.”

They all laughed, probably at the expression cast over my mug, but I couldn’t find it in me to even rebuke them. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Best believe it, doll.” Aunt Del replied, smiling over at me whilst she and George trailed the bags they’d seemingly brought with them up onto the front step. “Our Georgie here went an’ planned it all, picked him up from the train station this morning.”

I let Del tackle me into another tight hug, allowing her to pepper me with a barrel full of kisses. All the while it seemed that Denise and Matty had come out to see what all the fuss was about, only- they didn’t look shocked at all.

“Surprise?” Denise sang out when she caught my gawping, waving a hand out from where she stood in the doorway.

“Did you all know?” I asked, my mind racing to catch up with the situation at hand. “How- I- This is so mad.”

Matty snorted at my crappy attempt at a sentence but I watched as he made his way on over, his mum just behind, so that they could introduce themselves. “All G’s idea, mate. Knew you were missing them and so, yeah we made this happen.”

“I can’t- just, wow.” Then I glanced over to where the one person that currently meant so much to me stood on the outskirts simply watching on. He glanced back.

“Merry Christmas, B.” George said, grinning slightly over at me, obviously pleased with my stuttering reaction.

I released the heavy breath I hadn’t even realised I'd been holding and strode over towards him, he caught me in his arms and held me with a prominent strength I didn’t know he had.

“Thank you.” I whispered once I felt as though I could, tears threatening to fall at the sincerity of it all. Never had I ever been so surprised. “Thank you.” I repeated and pressed a light kiss to the skin of his neck that was hiding behind the collar of his shirt and other many layers.

George squeezed me a little closer, then rocked us back and forth. When I finally pulled away I peered up at him with wet eyes and the brightest smile.

“I can’t believe you got away with all this.”

He laughed, but not his typical kind, no, this one was loud and carefree. Honest.

“Is that all you really care about?” He asked me, teasing, hands now at my hips.

I grinned upwards, “‘Course, can’t believe you did all this under my nose!”

Turning back towards the crowd that had gathered by the door, George’s arm fell to a loose hold on my waist and we made our way back over. Denise was already chatting away with Aunt Del and Nana had somehow roped Matty into an explanation about the band and the few stories she’d heard through G and I during our catchup calls.

At that moment, my heart had never felt so full. In fact, I don’t know how any other Christmas could top it.

–

It had been a lovely day. The most amazing time, actually.

It still felt so unreal to look over and spot Denise in her wedding gown, all happy and glowing. In Portugal of all places, too! Matty was currently off trying to get with one of the many girls attending his mum’s reception, whilst his younger brother, Lou, tested his charm on a couple of the older folk in an attempt to make a bit of money, everyone else seemed fine to just putter about from table to table.

It had started to spit a little while ago, summer rain they’d said, and so I was the only one still standing out in the garden now, the rest of the party somewhere inside the villa or over at the gazebo. My bridesmaid dress was speckled with tiny water droplets that shimmered in the late setting sun but nothing too heavy. The rain here was almost a total contrast to that back home. 

“There you are.” I heard someone say just as a pair of hands came to wind themselves around my waist, I leant back in their hold, smiling at the familiarity. “Thought you’d done a runner.”

“Nah, just enjoying the last of the sun.” I hummed, intertwining my fingers with his atop my stomach.

“As well as the rain.” George added with a light chuckle, but he didn’t seem to mind it much either. I nodded lightly, then felt him tuck my head under his chin. “Ross is sloshed.” He told me.

“Already?” I asked around a soft laugh, he hummed. “Lightweight.”

The noise from the party seemed to trickle out to greet us, but no one else seemed to want to step out into the rain. Content with the warmth inside.

“You havin’ a good time?”

I smiled at the question as well as the thumb that soothed the back of my hand. “The best.” I told him honestly, “It’s all been so lovely. Reckon I’d want something like this, you know.”

George was quiet for a long second before he spoke again, “Thought you didn’t want to be tied down. As free as a bird and all that.”

Chuckling, I shrugged a single shoulder. “Dunno. Seems cool, plus you get all that cake.”

An ugly snort escaped George at that, “Only in it for the cake then, I ‘spose.”

With a grin I tilted my head back so that he could see me, “Always!”

He narrowed his eyes down at me, eyelashes fanning the skin beneath them, then tugged me in a bit tighter, “You’re a right menace, you know that?” He murmured against the jut of my collar. I squirmed slightly in his hold, his breath tickling my neck.

“I guess it’d be nice to have a big party too.” I tacked on, if only to tease him further. And it appeared to work too, because he spun me around in his arms and I laughed at the unexpectedness of it.

The rain started to come down a little harder then, but I could hardly feel it with the weight of his gaze on me and the beam of the sun. An old Billy Idol song echoed out into the courtyard from the main room and George grinned at the sound, a favourite. “Fancy a dance?”

“What, back in there?” I wondered, not really all that up for being back amongst everyone else just yet.

George just shook his head though, as if reading my mind, and then dragged me further out onto the grass where the dampness which clung to the clipped stems soaked my feet.

He started to sway then, in time to the beat of Eyes Without A Face.

“Didn’t think you even could dance.” I murmured to him, then giggled as he spun me out, raindrops flicking up the backs of my legs before roping me back in.

“Full of surprises, me.” He quipped before dipping me into an exaggerated bend.

I gasped, unable to help myself, then shook my head, hair falling with it. “Warn me next time.”

George just grinned, eyes squinting with the power of it, then pulled me in closer, chest to chest now. His hands on my back, mine wrapped behind his neck. “Would make things boring, wouldn’t it?”

“What’s so bad about boring?” I shot back.

He huffed, the force of it fluttering my dampening hair and catching on the shell of my ear. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He assured me and I heard more than saw his smile.

Pleased, I hummed, loosening my hold on him so that I could rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. The rain continued to fall on and around us, neither George nor I caring for the way it clung to every available inch of our skin.

“I love you.” I heard him mutter above me, so softly I hardly even felt it resonate in his chest.

I turned to glance up at him again at that, eyes trailing across every inch of his face, taking in every detail he had to offer. “How do you know? For sure?” I questioned him in a faint whisper even though there wasn't another soul about to hear. I was still smiling away, only it was ever so soft, so warm.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “I know I love you because even on my worst days you’re all that gets through. There’s no pretending with us, you know every inch of me, the good, the bad, and still, you choose to stay. So I’ll love you today, and then tomorrow. I’ll love you til the day I die, and if there’s life after that, I'll love you then too.”

My eyes watered at the hit of his words, having expected something stupid like ‘you give good head’, or something as simple as ‘I just do’. 

“You always manage to surprise me, you know that?” I chuckled quietly, fingers threading through the length of his hair.

George lifted his brows in turn and so I just smiled, humming as I coaxed him closer so that I could finally lean in for a kiss.

“I love you.” I repeated his earlier words once we parted, laughing loudly when he swept me up off my feet and around in a circle.

“You’d better.” He quipped straight back, laughing now too before he slipped on the damp grass beneath us and sent us both sailing to the ground.

“George!”

But he continued to just chuckle away, eyes bright and beaming. God, I thought, I was so, so gone.

#the 1975 #george daniel #fic #i guess i’ll take this pain fic #the 1975 band #matty healy #fluff #x reader #ross macdonald #adam hann #birdie #birdie and G #heyidkyay #george daniel x reader #george daniel the 1975 #george daniel fic

[blankwashed]

Rules R Rules

(description: naoya, your husband and also clan leader found out that you were teasing some of his army personnel. you weren't exactly all that innocent, being his wife meaning you weren't able to leave the clan quarters much. you had your eyes on toji fushiguro, his sergeant. you took this chance to live your dreams, to have sex with mr. fushigruo.)

part 2 here

“n-naoya darling, please, we can talk about this. don’t jump to conclusions when you haven’t heard my side of the story, please!” you begged while you were practically on the floor, inching yourself away from naoya, your husband.

naoya rolled his eyes, whip in hand. the whip was slender, black and thin.

“oh really?” he growled, with a lower tone of voice. “you really expect me to believe i wouldn’t do anything when my when my wife of the head of the zenin clan, flirts with my generals and soldiers?!”

“i didn’t do anything, promise! i was just worried that they needed some sort of entertainment, i know it’s dreadful to work as a soldier…promise, it’s an innocent mistake that i meant no harm,” you defended yourself, despite knowing it would never work on naoya.

a brilliant an interesting idea popped in your head. “naoya, my master...i’ll make it up to you. right now, even. j-just call in your sergeant. trust me dear,”

“if im not pleased by whatever you’re going to do, im sure you know what’s happening,” naoya snapped, glided the whip on your ass and pressed on his intercom, calling in said sergeant.

after a few seconds, heavy boots were walking in his office.

“good afternoon sir! how may i be of assistance for you?” it was sergeant fushiguro. the sergeant fushigruo.

your heart skipped a beat when you eyed him.

handsome, muscular, broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, muscles ripping through his army top. a scar beside his lips which made you bite your lips thinking of all the dirty things you could do to him, or that he could do to you.

“trust me darling, i’ll make this worthwhile for you..” you said to naoya as you sashayed towards sergeant fushiguro.

raising an eyebrow, naoya clicked his tongue, already knowing what kind of performance you wanted to do. a teasing one, one that will make him jealous. on purpose? you’re not that gullible to make such a mistake.

“i know what you’re trying to do, peasant. you’ve been eying my sarge for quite some time. d’you think i won’t notice those quick and naughty glances you give him?” naoya revealed to you.

“i’ll join in with the parade, im sure you can take two cocks at once am i right? such a good slut for me, aren’t ya slut?” naoya walks towards the both of you and grabs your hair tightly, causing you to moan.

“you’re lucky i like sergeant fushiguro here, or else i would’ve have both your heads tomorrow,” he continues proceeding to sit comfortably on a chair, prepared for whatever performance you were going to give.

horny as hell, you nodded your head.

“let’s just ease mr. toji here into it, okay daddy?” you said while tugging on the sergeants belt, removing it swiftly with your hands.

“w-what’s going on?” toji was alarmed at your pair of hands reaching for his army pants. you gave him a sly wink, ensuring to him that everything was fine and that he will not be fired tomorrow.

“what can i say sarge? she’s a horny little minx,” naoya said as he takes you up and starts massaging your breasts through your shirt. you did not expect naoya to react this way, a way where it would make things easier for you.

playing with your nipples, he licked and suckled on your earlobe. “let’s see who you take in better, huh? me, leader of the zenin clan or toji, sergeant of my army,” he whispered into your ear.

naoya grips on your thighs tightly, spreading them wide open. your wet slick already drippin' down your legs. it was that easy to turn you on, especially with two guys ready to take you.

"d'you better behave, little slut," he slaps your already aching cunt, sending waves to your thighs. "there's someone new here, be on your very best okay? don't ruin daddy's reputation," he said with gritted teeth.

"sergeant toji..don't be shy. have a taste of her, she's not going to bite," he mischievously said. he allows toji's fingers to play with your nipples that have hardened. twisting, turning and lapping on them. you whimper as you give your body to be used, touched by two men.

naoya brings you closer to sarge's leaking cock while he finds his way to your plump breasts. "put on a good show for sarge here. if you please me well then i might let him fuck you," your husband reminded you.

he knows how much power he has over you and is clearly swimming and drowning himself in it. without a thought, your hands wrapped around his surprisingly thick and long cock.

naoya winched , not really understanding the feeling of seeing his wife holding on to another man's dick but he let that slide. as you started to take toji in, he grabbed the back of your hair pushing you deeper. naoya was impressed, impressed at how much more could take in with that small mouth of yours. what could you say? you were trained by the best (naoya).

you knew that you were blessed, having a husband that would definitely be able to hit the spot that made you see stars all the time.

toji was hesitant still, unsure of whether he would be punished if he were to continue to touch you. you notice how uncertain his shaky hands were. snickering, you wiped your mouth clean from your saliva. naoya noticed your actions.

taking a deep breath in, toji stepped closer to you, no longer worried about what his leader might say about him. daringly, he lifted you up by your thighs and placed you on a nearby table. without asking for permission, his dry lips were on your wet pussy, slurping. you were shocked by the sudden intrusion, reaching out to grab anything.

toji placed two of his thick index and middle finger inside your pussy. it was easy, since you were terribly wet. because of his finger's long length, he was able to reach into your g-spot immediately, making you see stars.

gripping onto his muscular shoulders, you couldn't help but to yelp and moan in pleasure, "ah f-fuck, t-toji....you're so fucking bi-". his ego was boosted and he was ramming into your tight pussy at an intense speed ; faster than naoya.

scoffing, the clan's leader didn't take this lightly. who does toji think he is? fucking his wife better than him?

he grabbed you by the arm, simultaneously removing toji's hard cock from you. you mewled due to the emptiness you felt.

"aren't you enjoying his cock? this better teach you who's in charge over here," naoya slammed himself into your abused hole.

tears came pouring down your face from the pain, it wasn't pleasurable anymore. did naoya care? no.

"my. fucking. hole."

toji noticed your discomfort and wanted to caress your limp hands and legs.

"s-sir, she's in pain...she's bleeding sir i think you should sto-" toji's pleas for naoya to stop was only greeted by a menacing glare.

"who's your leader here, general?" naoya cut him off, not liking how he wanted to come in between the sadistic pleasure he was getting while torturing you.

"y-you sir, i'm sorry.."

toji was asked to leave the room, with blue balls, and a worrisome thought about how you were doing.

part 2 here

#fics #jjk smut #jjk #toji fushiguro #toji #smut #naoya #naoya zenin x you #toji x you #threesome? #potong stim

[lord-jen-grey]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thanks @flyinghome-againstthewind for the ask!!

My 5 fave fics that I wrote.

You know I’m a big supporter of self love 😏.

I have to say O Night Divine would have been on this list, but I don’t think of it as a fic anymore because it’s so much more. Because of that, my 5 faves are pretty easy to come up with. Here we goooooo….

5. The Silver of Moonlight from the Sun, Moon, and Truth series

This story was so natural to write. The series might be some of the sexiest stuff I’ve written (for whatever that’s worth). The main reason it’s such a fave for me is because multiple people shared with me how it helped them open their minds about their sexuality and accept proudly who they are. Fucking incredible.

4. A Thousand Ships from the Tales of James Fraser series

I sat with this idea for 6 months before I started writing it. I laughed myself to tears coming up with the idea, and I laughed typing every fucking word. If I’ve done anything brilliant in my life, it execute this concept.

3. Paved With Yellow Stones

I can’t begin to describe the effort that went into this story. The planning of every minute detail. The intricate plot that could not be deviated from once it was started. It was not easy, and it took a few years of learning to plan and execute complex plot to write something like this. So, yeah, I’m proud of this baby.

2. Like Petals Falling

This story was meant to be a quick and simple palate cleanser after writing a few dark, heavy plots in other fics. How did it turn into something so deeply personal? Well, THE POETRY. Poetry is, at its essence, DEEP and MEANINGFUL. I’ve poured so much of myself into this story in a way I had never done so with any fic before. 🥹

1. Journey of a Thousand Kisses and the 1000 Kisses series.

The intention with this story was to combine my favorite things: obsessively in love Frasers, fucking in the Highlands like rabbits, and building a perfect, happy life. I wanted to write a joyful story that did not require a ton of devastation as the main point of the plot. That’s not an easy feat as a writer. It’s beat into our heads that conflict is vital to good storytelling, and I was intentionally removing so much of that conflict, focusing more on the dynamic between them and resolving a mystery that the readers didn’t even know existed until 6/7 of the way through the story! I wanted people to think it was pure fluff, but then be blindsided by so much more. Then I wanted to do it again with 6 more stories in this universe. I love this series the most, and I love its beginning more than anything.

Do you agree with this list? Do you have another thoughts? I’d love to hear them. 🥰

#outlander #claire fraser #jamie fraser #jamie x claire #fanfic #outlander fanfic #like petals falling #anon asks #1000 kisses #journey of a thousand kisses #paved with yellow stones #modern au #a thousand ships #tales of James Fraser #the silver of moonlight #lord john grey #jamie x john x claire #JJC

[radation]

can you do lee!veneer and ler!velvet, veneer was being a brat all day and annoying velvet and she finally put a end to it knowing what he wants.

i love your vel and veneer fics ‼️

Thank you!!! Sorry if I wasn’t able to respond, requests have just been piling in, hope this makes you pleased!<3

FYI, I don’t understand when you said “knowing what he wants” so I’m just gonna assume she knows where to get him in tickling, if it’s not correct what I assumed then feel free to ask again but next time make it more understandable and a different scenario.

Veneer and tickley fingers.

Mount rageous is excited for an upcoming interview for velvet and veneer, it was coming in a week so velvet and veneer were just being prepared early just in case considering this interview may be big for them.

velvet was in her room, deciding which make up look should she aim for

Velvet: hmm, what should I aim for? Violety-purple or tropical orange? Hmm, maybe lemony-yello-AH!

*veneer barged into the room, velvet looked at him with scared eyes, thinking it was something bad but when she realized the smug face on veneer’s face, she got mad*

Velvet: what was that for you idiot?! I nearly skipped like a thousand heartbeats! Even the doctors would be shaking if I told them that! *she placed her hand on her chest and was breathing heavily*

Veneer: scared ya Didn’t I?!

Velvet: *mumbled under her breath* your face did.

Veneer: scaredy cat! Vel is a scaredy cat! *he chuckled and ran out of her room*

*velvet rolled her eyes*

Velvet: ugh, little brothers.

Time skip, velvet was in the living room, watching tv with pure boredom.

Velvet: ugh, tv sucks! I mean what is there to d- AHH! *she shrieked and jumped when she saw veneer with a spooky mask on*

Veneer: booo!!! Hahahah! You should have seen your face! *he laughed as he removed his mask*

*velvet groaned and rolled her eyes*

Velvet: NOT! Funny veneer! *she gave him a death glare that sent shivers down his spine but he was too busy laughing*

Veneer: the way you just- *he couldn’t help himself by laughing so hard, velvet gave up and walked away, mumbling stuff under her breath*

Veneer: it’s so easy to get to her. *he chuckled*

*now it’s around the afternoon, velvet was walking through the hallways*

Velvet: oh crap, I think I forgot my purse in the spa room!

*she pouts and heads to the spa room, when she smiles because she found her purse, veneer jumped out of the jacuzzi yelling*

Veneer: booooo!!! Hahahah!!!

Velvet: *she flew across the room out of fear* VENEER!

Veneer: HAHAHAHAH! That was so funny!!!! Ahhahahah!

Velvet: ugh you are so annoying!

*veneer was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes*

*velvet rolled her eyes, she quickly grabbed her purse and quickly walked out slamming the door behind her*

Veneer: *he sighed* ah, I love her reactions. *he giggled to himself*

Now it’s dinner, both twins are eating and chatting and laughing about old memories.

Veneer: oh vel! Remember when we used to dress up? I was the knight and you were the princess? *veneer chuckled*

Velvet: oh yeah!! Those were funny, OH! Do you remember how we used to sneak into the pantry and steal snacks?

Veneer: right? We would always get in trouble because we would sneak in at the middle of the night.

Velvet: true *then an idea popped in her head* remember our tickle fights?

Veneer: oh yeah!! I remember I would always give you cheer up tickles and still do. *he smirked*

Velvet: yeah, but other than that I would tickle you until you would beg.

*veneer blushed, remembering those moments vividly*

Veneer: yeah…heh, yeah…

*velvet got a real brilliant idea and stood up*

Velvet: say, why don’t we…create a new tickle memory?

Veneer: *he nearly choked on his food* w-what…?

Velvet:,what do you say little bro?~ up for a tickle fight?~

Veneer: v-velvet! No wait!

*velvet didn’t hesitate to get a good run up and jump over the table, tackling veneer to the ground and pinning him*

Veneer: oof! Wait velvet please! *he struggled*

Velvet: oh no little bro, I think you deserve it for, you know, being a nuisance all day~ *she smirked and raised a brow before digging into his ribs*

Veneer: *yelps and squirms* vehehlvehhet! Stahhap! Ihihm sehehrihihohuhs!! *his face flushed*

Velvet: aww, what’s wrong?~ too pouty to finally get what you deserve? *she pouted then chuckled, she knew veneer’s spots like the back of her hand so she dug her fingers in his ribs and began vibrating them so she could hear him yelp*

Veneer: *yelps* HEHAHAHhahahaha! STAHAHahahahp! *yelps* VEHEHhehehl!

Velvet: yes?~ *she smirked and began scribbling all over his ribs*

Veneer: stahahahAHAHHAHAp!!! *he yelled as he shook his head back laughing*

Velvet: I don’t think I can with all that blush to take you seriously baby bro~ *she smiled and kept going, making veneer kick and laugh*

Velvet: aww, too ticklish?~ coochie coochie coo~ *she smirked and began tickling his neck to earn hiccups*

Veneer: Hehahahah! *hic* plehehahase! *his face just got redder*

Velvet: please what? Tickle you some more?~ *she chuckled and tickled the back of his neck*

*veneer quickly threw his head back laughing*

Veneer: VEHELVHEHET! *hic* Stahahp ihit plehahse!! *he laughed and desperately kept trying to lower his arms but velvet had a good grip*

*velvet took the opportunity to blow a fat raspberry on the front of his neck earning a squeal from veneer*

Veneer: HAHAHAHAH! *hic* VEHHELVEHEHET!!!!

*velvet decided to be mean and tickle veneer’s stomach, this will make veneer very squirmy*

Velvet: aww, so squirmy~

Veneer: hehahahah! Vel-hehahahah!

Velvet: aww? Got something to say lil bro?~

Veneer: pleahahsehe! Ihihi CAHAHNT! *his face was already red as it is but when velvet began squeezing and prodding his sides, his face went full cherry and his laughing got louder*

Velvet: aww, don’t think I won’t point out that blush you got going on?~ it’s like a cherry! So cute!~ *she squeezed his side making him jump*

*veneer was failing miserably at hiding his face but he just couldnt*

Velvet: am I getting you good?~ *she teased*

Veneer: vehehelveheht! Pleahahse!!

Velvet: hmm, no. *she smirked and tickled his armpits. This, ladies and gentleman will make veneer scream and laugh like a banshee.*

Veneer: HEHAHAHAHAHAH! BAHAHHAHAHAHA! VHEHE-VEHEHEL- AHAHAHHAHAH!

*velvet burst into laughter when she saw how veneer desperately tried to lower his arms now*

Velvet: wow, you really scream when you’re tickled here huh?

Veneer: AHAHHAHAHAHAH! HEHEHAHHAHAHA!

*velvet knew she can’t tickle him for a long time here because veneer gets overwhelmed if he is tickled too much in his worst spots just like his sister*

Velvet: apologize for all the pranks you were doing!!

Veneer: IHIHIHH!! HAHAHAHHA! APOHOH- HAHAH! LEHEHIGIGHSHEH!!!

*velvet quickly let go, veneer curled up into a ball, panting, flushed, and sweaty a bit*

Velvet: you okay? *she asked in a gentle voice and began rubbing his stomach to help get rid of the ghostly tickles because she knew if she tried to rub his armpits, he would be giggling*

Veneer: I-i…I’m fine… *he pants, he smiled softly when velvet handed him a cup of water, he gladly drank it*

Velvet: easy ven, the water isn’t going anywhere. *they both chuckled and veneer began drinking slowly and lightly*

Velvet: but that’s what you get for being a brat and annoying me all day. *she smirked and veneer chuckled as he finished his cup of water and set it down with a sigh*

Veneer: yeah…I guess I kinda deserve that. *he felt velvet wrap and arm around him and he smiled softly and rest his head against hers*

Velvet: I love you lil bro, just no more pranks alright? Atleast for now, okay?

Veneer: yeah yeah yeah. *he chuckled* I love you too big sis, even if you can have your moments.

Velvet: hey! You have your moments too!

*both twins chuckled and stood up, veneer placed the empty cup on the table*

Veneer: what now?

Velvet: oh! Let’s watch a movie!

Veneer: oh oh! Dibs on choosing the movie!

Velvet: no! I choose!

both twins ran out giggling, loving how this was just another crazy day in mount rageous.

~the end~

Hope everyone enjoyed this<33 ( sorry if it’s short :( )

#trolls3 #trolls3tickle #velvetandveneertickle #velvetandveneertickleheadcannon #leeveneer #lervelvet #veneernadvelvetticklefic #veneerandvelvetticklefic

[middleearthpixie]

Brilliant Disguise ~ Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Speech therapist Josephine Asharm has been brought into Erebor to work with Bifur, but trying to find her place among people who eye her suspiciously would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but when Sophie finds herself caught between the king, his most trusted lieutenant, and the dwarf she’s there to help? She’s certain no good can come of it. Being of Man, not only does she stand out in the dwarf kingdom, she’s not entirely certain she’s actually welcome there at all. 

Thorin only agreed to allow Sophie to live amongst them out of a sense of duty to Bifur, who is recovering from an odd head injury (is there any other way to describe having an axe blade lodged in one’s head, only to have it later dislodged during the Battle of the Five Armies?) Before the battle, he spoke only khuzdul. But since it? He’s regained the ability to speak Westron—if only he could but remember any of it. As for Thorin? He’s trying his damndest to ignore the speech therapist, not to mention his own growing feelings for her, even as he is also recovering from his near fatal wounding in the same battle. 

Both Sophie and Thorin are haunted by their pasts and are uncertain of their futures, but sometimes, chances must be taken…  

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x OFC Josephine (Sophie) Asharm 

Characters:Sophie, Thorin, Heather, Lucy Trisven, Gimli, Narnerra

Warnings: None 

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.4k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

It was a clear, crisp night, with Dale gleaming like a beacon upon its hill. Sophie glanced down at Heather. “Are you warm enough, love?”

Heather nodded. “I’m fine, Mama. But maybe we can get some hot chocolate, just to be sure?”

“I think we can arrange that,” Thorin replied, looking down at Sophie. “Unless you’d rather she not have it.”

“It’s fine.” Sophie tucked her head against Thorin’s shoulder. “She doesn’t ask for hot chocolate all that often. Besides, I think it sounds wonderful myself. It’s chilly out here.”

Thorin gave her hand a squeeze. “Say the word and we will return to Erebor.”

“That isn’t necessary just yet,” she told him, even as the breeze stirred and carried her words off in a cloud of silvery breath. “But, if I change my mind…”

“You’ll let me know?” He grinned, then slowed to press a kiss into the top of her head. “I expect no less.”

“Mama! Look!” Heather broke away to run up the sloping gravel road that led to the main street in Dale. 

“Heather, wait!” Sophie let go of Thorin’s hand to sprint after her, catching up with her at the top of the hill, where they stood at the beginning of the Night Market. “Do not do that again, or we go home right now!”

“But, Mama,” Heather pointed at the booth directly across from them, “they have fairy floss!”

“I do not care if they have a goose that lays golden eggs,” Sophie snapped, crouching down to Heather’s eye-level, “you do not go running off on me again. Do you see all these people? Do you have any idea how easily I could lose you in this crowd?”

Heather looked up at the crowds milling about them, all braving the unexpectedly cold night to visit the market. All around, booths with brightly colored awnings and festive lights strung about them, offered up everything from the fairy floss that snagged Heather’s attention to plants and pottery. Merchants tried their best to out-call their competitors to lure customers to take in their wares and it would be very easy to lose Heather in such a crowd.

Thorin joined them then, his expression stern as he also crouched. “You need to listen to your ’amad, mimûna,” he told her. “It can be dangerous otherwise.”

“I’m sorry, Mama, Mister Thorin,” Heather said softly, her eyes round and wide with remorse. “Can I have some fairy floss?”

“Not now,” Sophie told her, shaking her head as she straightened.

“Later?”

“We will see.”

Heather’s nose wrinkled and for a moment, she looked ready to debate it, but then thought better of it. “Yes, Mama.”

“Good. Now, why don't we see about supper first and then, if you behave, we can get hot chocolate?”

“Where?”

“We can go to Lucy’s.”

Heather’s eyes lit up. “Can we?”

Sophie nodded. “I think it would be all right.”

Thorin looked from Heather to her, his brows knit in confusion. “Lucy’s?”

“Over on Stone Street,” Sophie told him. “Lucy and I grew up together in Esgaroth and she is an amazing cook. Trust me.”

He bobbed his head. “Lead on, then.”

“I know the way!” Heather gripped Thorin’s free hand in both of hers. “Come along, Mister Thorin. The best table will be gone!”

He let out a laugh as he let her tug him along “How does she know about that?”

“Because she is wise beyond her years.” Sophie let out a laugh. “And she’s not wrong. If we don’t hurry, we’ll end up back by the kitchen.”

“Then allow me to lead the way.” Thorin winked at her as he proceeded to scoop Heather up and set her on his shoulders. “Can you see better up there, mimûna?”

“I can! Go straight!”

“Hold onto my hands,” he reminded her, and to Sophie, he added, “And don’t you get lost, either.”

“If we get separated, I think I can find my way,” Sophie replied dryly. 

“Go this way, Mister Thorin!” Heather directed, point to her right at the end of the street. “And it’s over there, the one with the blue shade.”

Lucy’s was tucked into the corner of Stone and North Streets, with a bright blue awning and the word Lucy spelled in elegant ivory script. It was already crowded, but when Lucy saw them, she hurried over. “Sophie? Heather! What a lovely surprise!” Her wide dark eyes slid to her left. “And is this who I think it is?”

“Thorin Durin, meet Lucy Trisven. Lucy, His Royal Highness, King Thorin II.”

“Your Royal Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As Lucy dipped into a curtesy, Thorin cleared his throat, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he said, “Please, that is not necessary. Thorin is fine and it is a pleasure to meet your as well, Miss Trisven.”

Lucy’s cheeks went pink as she swept a loose auburn curl away from her face. “Well, let me get you a table. Do you need a high seat, my little lady?”

Heather nodded solemnly. “Please.”

“Of course.” She straightened up and gestured for them to follow and a few minutes later, they were seated at a cozy table in the back corner, opposite the kitchen and Heather was happily sipping a cup of hot chocolate, while Thorin poured Sophie and himself a goblet of wine. 

“How long has this restaurant been in business? For I don't recall seeing it before tonight,” Thorin said after they’d placed their orders with the serving girl.

“It’s only been here since last winter, but she was very well known in Esgaroth,” Sophie said, trailing her finger down the thick stem of her crystal goblet. “But, somehow I think you’ve not spent much time there.”

“That would be because I haven’t. Not in recent years, anyhow. When I passed through last winter, it was the first time since before Smaug that I’d set foot in Esgaroth. Is that where you trained?”

She nodded. “More or less. I spent some time working in several of the elf kingdoms, to learn their languages as well. Then I met Heather’s father and settled back in Esgaroth with him, and after Heather was born, I decided I was finished traveling. Doing so with an infant through some of the lands simply wasn't safe and Sten didn’t like—” She paused at the sharp sting of memory and pressed her lips together as she glanced over at Heather, busy coloring on the small menu Lucy had given her, along with several different colored pastels.

Thorin’s huge hand came down upon hers. “You don't have to finish. I can guess.”

“It’s rather tiresome, really.” She met his soft blue eyes and shook her head. “And it’s over now, so there is no point in dwelling. Heather and I have a wonderful new life now.”

His thumb swept lightly along hers. “Good. I daresay Erebor has benefitted from having you both there. And,” he added, his voice a low purr, “I know I have definitely benefitted.”

A pleasant heat climbed into her cheeks. “Thorin…”

“What? I have. You and Heather have brought much-needed joy to both Erebor and to its king and that has, in turn, benefitted Erebor as a whole. And of course, Bifur is more and more his old self as well.”

“He just needed to be patient and now that he’s made the first big breakthrough, I think it won’t be long before he will not require my services any longer.”

Thorin’s thumb went still. “And will you and Miss Heather be looking to leave then?”

Although she expected the question sooner or later, her stomach still twisted slightly as she said, “I cannot stay if I’m not needed.”

“I need you.”

“Thorin…” she glanced over at Heather, still seemingly oblivious to their conversation as she shaded the tree she’d drawn. “What are you suggesting?”

“I suggest nothing, but I do hope you would consider remaining in Erebor on a more perm—”

“Are we leaving Erebor?” Heather asked, lifting her head to stare at them.

Sophie sipped her wine and lowered the goblet to say, “Not at this point, no.”

Thorin smiled at her. “Would you like to stay with us a bit longer, Miss Heather?”

She nodded, her dark curls bouncing merrily. “I would very much, yes.” She looked up at Sophie. “Can we, Mama?”

“For now, of course.” She shot Thorin a look as she added, “But we don't know what the future holds, remember.”

To her surprise, Thorin shot her a look right back. “But we do have an idea, don’t we?”

“I don't know, Thorin. Do we?”

“I think so, yes.”

Heather looked back and forth as each spoke. “Mama, are you mad at Mister Thorin?”

She sat back at her daughter’s blunt question and sighed softly as she shook her head. “Of course not. But, perhaps this is a conversation best left for another time.”

“If you insist,” Thorin replied evenly as their serving girl returned with their suppers, “but my sentiments will not have changed.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.”

“Hunter’s stew?” The serving girl broke in with a silvery chirp as she set the large bowl before Thorin.

“Thank you.”

Supper meant the matter was dropped for now, but Sophie knew she and Thorin would be discussing what he meant when Heather was not within earshot. 

That moment came far sooner than Sophie would have thought, for as Heather met up with Gimli and the two of them joined Narnerra to play a game of chance at the booth set up near the center of town, Thorin said, “My sentiments will not have changed, you know.”

“Thorin, you cannot speak of such things with Heather within earshot,” Sophie rounded on him sharply. “You cannot get her hopes up for things that most likely will never be.”

“Never be? Why?” He folded his arms over his broad chest and glared down at her. “Do you see no future for us, Mrs. Asharm?”

“Do you see one, Your Highness?”

“I do, yes.” He bobbed his head sharply. “Or, at least I see the possibility of one.”

“Why?”

“You did not just ask me that.”

“I did, and I wish an answer. You need remember, I do not come into any relationship alone. I have Heather to think of.”

“And surely you’ve noticed I look at her as if she was my own,” he countered smoothly. “I would never dream of even hinting that I see her any other way.”

Sophie’s heart sped up, hammering against her ribs with enough force, black dots danced before her eyes. “But, you are the King of Erebor.”

“You say that as if it means something beyond a job title.”

“Because it does.”

“I want to be with you, Sophie.” He stepped closer and caught her by the hands. “And I wouldn’t want to be with you without Heather around as well. And I will never treat her as anything less than my own kin, so you needn’t worry about that.”

His thumbs brushed the backs of her hands and then he released one to bring his hand to her cheek, where it curved against her to make thinking that much more difficult. She swallowed hard. “Thorin, do you know what you’re saying?”

“Of course I do. I went mad for a while, but I’m far from stupid,” he said with a hint of a smile as he closed the space between them. “I want a future with you, Sophie. And unlike her father, I will never wish she was anything other than the sweet, charming little girl she is, nor will I ever raise a hand to either one of you. You will never know fear again, Sophie. I promise you this.”

Her eyes stung at the soft intensity of his voice. “Thorin, I—I don't know what to say, this isn’t anything I ever expected.”

“Nor did I,” he replied with a hint of a smile, “but here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“And here is where I wish to stay.”

“Me, too.”

“Good.” He bent to her, pressed his lips to hers, and slid one arm about her waist to draw her flush against him. 

“Ew… are they kissing?”

Thorin pulled away with a chuckle at Gimli’s horrified question. “Aye, we were, indeed, Master Gimli. How did you do at your game?”

“I won a poppet,” Gimli said with a scowl. “What am I to do with a silly poppet?”

“It’s very pretty, though,” Heather chimed in. 

He turned to her. “Do you like it, Heather?”

She nodded solemnly. “I do.” 

“Then you shall have it,” Gimli told her, pressing it into her hand.

Her entire face lit up. “Do you mean it?”

“Aye, I mean it.”

“Thank you!” Heather threw her arms about his neck and hugged him so hard, he stumbled back. 

“Easy, mimûna,” Thorin told her, crouching to peel her away from him. “Are you all right, Master Gimli?”

Gimli looked a bit dazed, but nodded and then smiled. “I’m fine, Your Highness.”

“Mama! Look!” Heather waved the poppet at her. “Gimli gave her to me! Isn’t she just the prettiest—”

She froze then, her face going pale as she stared off behind Sophie, who whipped about to see what it was that caught Heather’s attention. The only thing behind her was the the end of the street, where it intersected with Broad Street, and the throng of people milling about as they moved from stand to stand.

“Miss Heather, what is it?” Thorin asked softly, also spinning about to peer down the road.

Heather looked up at Sophie, who felt her heart stop as the little girl said, “I saw Papa.”

“What?”

Heather nodded. “He was right back there, by that lady with the pots,” she pointed to the stand at the end of the street, selling pottery of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

“Oh, love,” Sophie fought to keep her voice calm even as her belly roiled like the Long Lake during a storm, and scooped Heather up, “that’s not possible. It was your eyes playing tricks on you. Perhaps someone who looks like him.”

“No, Mama,” Heather shook her head, her bottom lip slowly beginning to tremble. “He looked right at me and he smiled, but it was a scary smile. Can we go back home now, please? I don’t want to be here any more.”

Gimli peered around Sophie’s legs. “We can go look, Heather.”

“No!” Heather threw her arms about Sophie’s neck and clung to her, burying her face as she added, “Please, can we go home?”

Thorin nodded, easing an arm about them both. “Of course we can, raklûna. Of course we can.”

Sophie tucked Heather more tightly against her, fighting the urge to peer over her shoulder every few minutes as Thorin ushered them out of Dale and back toward Erebor. And no matter how she tried to convince herself Heather was imagining what she’d seen, there was no denying the genuine fear she’d seen in Heather’s eyes.

But that simply wasn't possible. Sten was gone. He was dead. She knew this for a fact. He was not coming back.

So, who had Heather seen? 

Sophie tried not to think about it as they crossed the plains between Dale and Erebor, and it was the first time in a long time that she realized just how wide and open the plains were. 

“Mama, I thought you said Papa died?”

“He did, love. I don’t know who you might have seen, but it was not your papa.” Sophie hugged her daughter tighter, her heart thundering against her ribs as if Sten himself gave chase.

But that wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t.

At Erebor’s gates, the watchman greeted them with a friendly, if brisk, “Good evening, Your Royal Highness, Mrs. Asharm, Miss Asharm. How was the market?”

“It was fine, Rabir. Please, just raise the gates,” Thorin replied.

“Of course.” 

Chains rattled and squeaked as the gates slowly opened and only once they’d passed the threshold, did Sophie relax her hold on Heather. Thorin’s hand remained firmly at the small of her back as he guided her down to her apartments. 

Inside, Thorin pushed the door closed and said, “She’s half-asleep. I think it safe to say she is no longer frightened.”

Sophie craned her neck to peer at Heather, whose head rested on her shoulder. Her thumb was firmly in her mouth and her eyes were heavy-lidded and just about closed. “Let me put her down and get her tucked in.”

“Would you like some wine?”

“I would, very much so. I have some in the kitchen.”

“I’ll get that.” He came over to gently stroke a hand along Heather’s curls. “Sleep well, raklûna.”

“What if he comes here?” Heather murmured, her voice thick and her words sluggish. “Will you stay, Mister Thorin. Just in case?”

Sophie met Thorin’s gaze, smiling as he then turned a solemn expression to Heather. “Would that make you feel safer?”

She nodded. “You won’t let him hurt us, right?”

Sophie pressed her lips together, her throat tightening when Thorin just as solemnly replied, “I will not let anyone hurt you, mimûna. Neither you nor your mother. I give you my word.”

“Good.” Heather’s eyes slid shut and she sighed softly. 

“Let me put her to bed. I’ll be back in a moment,” Sophie managed to murmur.

“Take your time.” 

She bobbed her head, then turned to carry Heather into her bedchamber, where she braced Heather against her hip while she turned down the bed with her free hand. She bent to set Heather on the featherbed and Heather murmured, “He can stay, can’t he?”

Sophie nodded as she drew up the sheet and quilt. “Of course he can, love. You have nothing to be afraid of now. You’re safe here.”

“I know,” Heather replied slowly, just barely nodding. “Mister Thorin loves us.”

“He certainly seems to.” Sophie gently sank onto the edge of the bed, stroking Heather’s hair. 

“He does. I can tell… he does…” 

With a soft sigh, Heather sank into sleep and Sophie sat there a few minutes more, until she was certain Heather wouldn’t wake with the slightest of movements. Then, she rose and quietly crept from the room, pulling the door by behind her.

Thorin was in the great room, two goblets and the bottle of wine standing on the stone table while he sat on the sofa, elbow resting on the arm, chin resting in his hand, his expression suggesting his thoughts were far from Erebor.

“Where are you?”

He jumped. “Sorry, mesmel.” He looked over at her and smiled. “Is she asleep?”

“I think so.” She sank onto the sofa alongside him, and without thinking, curled up against him. “Did you see who she saw?”

“I did not.” His arm came to rest about her shoulders, his fingers sweeping lightly along her upper arm as he added, “But then again, I wouldn’t know her father if I fell over him.”

Sophie shook her head. “It couldn’t have been Sten. It’s impossible.”

“Does he have a brother who resembles him perhaps?”

“He did,” she nodded slowly, “a twin, actually. But he died when they were children. Drowned in the Long Lake. It’s why I never fully understood why Sten chose to earn his living on the water. He hated that lake and with such good reason.” 

“Well, whoever Heather saw, it shook her a bit. But, if you’d rather I not stay—”

“Now, why would I rather that?” She looked up at him. “I’m certain there is a perfectly logical explanation for what happened up in Dale. I just wish I’d seen the man she saw. Then I would know.”

“We will get to the bottom of it, Sophie.” He smiled down at her. “I promise you, we will.”

She sighed softly as she tucked her head against his side. “I know, but… it’s troubling.”

“It was dark and she was tired. She probably saw someone who resembled him and her eyes played a trick on her. Now,” he leaned forward to snag one of the goblets and handed it to her, “no more worrying. You and Heather are safe here and no one who does not belong here will find their way into Erebor. You and your daughter will both sleep soundly tonight if I have to sit up and watch over you both. Understood?”

Sophie nodded, but as she sipped her wine, she had the feeling peaceful nights’ sleep were going to be rather hard to come by in the coming days. 

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Richard Armitage

[zdbztumble]

Yet Another Kingdom Hearts Revisit, Part VI

Atlantica is my favorite world in KH I. It may be my favorite world in the entire series. That isn't because I love the movement mechanics of the underwater world, though I do enjoy them. And it's not because I love the storytelling in this world, though I do think it's a brilliant section for plot, character, and lore (more on all those momentarily). It's my favorite because Ariel is an option for your battle party.

That might seem a slight reason, but The Little Mermaid is not only one of my favorite Disney films, but one of my favorite films full stop. Depending on my mood on a given day, it may take the top slot on a Disney list. But the one substantive issue I have with it is a big one: despite Ariel being the heroine, every other element of the film existing to service her story, she has almost nothing to do with defeating the villain who manipulated and betrayed her. Worse, she ends up a damsel in distress at the bottom of whirlpool. For Kingdom Hearts to make Ariel a party member who can fight against Ursula - in both forms - was so gratifying the first time I played this game, and it's remained so ever since. If KH III deserves credit for nothing else, bringing back Ariel as a Link Summon (the most useful one after Simba IMO) was a great move, but combat-ready Ariel in your party as part of a story that pays off all her talents and personality still takes the cake, and it's one of the best things this series has ever done with a Disney character. (It also removed the only possible rationale for giving The Little Mermaid the live action remake treatment, but I'll spare you my thoughts on that ongoing enterprise today.)

Ariel's dynamic with Sora is also one of the strongest between him and a Disney character from outside Mickey's realm. They've got a nice big sister-little brother vibe. Had the Kingdom Hearts TV series ever panned out, it would've been great to see that expanded on. But there's also some nice thematic work achieved through their relationship, Ariel's wanderlust mirroring Sora's from earlier in the game and Sora having become world-weary by that point. Given how pronounced that quality became in KH II, it's a shame that aspect couldn't have been tapped again.

And then there's King Triton, better-versed in Keyblade lore than Sora, Riku, the Traverse Town crew, and even Genie. Whoever's idea that was in the writing process, it was a great choice, and well-placed within the narrative. Had the possibility of a destructive Keyblade master come up too soon, it might have made it too easy to predict some of the twists in Hollow Bastion; too late, and there wouldn't have been time for a sense of foreboding to build. Though I do wish the graphics of the time would have let Triton's destruction of the crystal trident been a little more like his attack on the grotto from the film (the scariest scene in a Disney film for little-kid-me).

Gameplay wise, I prefer Ursula's first stage to the second. Once you get the hang of avoiding their attacks, the big-head enemies in KH I are a little too easy IMO. The first stage is more involved. On the other hand, defeating the big-head Ursula with Ariel in the party is a more cathartic experience, for all the reasons mentioned above.

Finally, I'd be curious to learn more about the music decisions for KH I. How did Atlantica and Halloweentown come to be the only worlds (besides the Disney Castle cutscenes) to use music from their respective films? I'm glad they did; playing along to "Under the Sea" is great. But Yoko Shimomura could certainly have come up with something fitting.

#kingdom hearts #z's crits #commentary #the little mermaid #disney

[eldritchazure]

IT’S DOMINIONWEEK!! This is my entry for the first prompt Paranoia.

•••

Lizaan scowled at the four little purple berries he’d found hidden in his sleeping area. This was the fifth time in as many days that he’d found rippleberries planted in his bunk.

When Lizaan’s cohort had been brought to Kurill Prime for the first time for a short outing as a reward for their hard work so far, they’d been expressly forbidden from taking anything home with them. Being found with such contraband was punishable with termination.

Someone had it out for him. Lizaan just knew it. But Lizaan was not going to die today. Especially not for something he hadn’t even done.

Today had been cutting it close, too. If he’d been just an hour later, the rippleberries surely would have been found when the instructor conducted the room searches that were scheduled for tonight. Not that Lizaan knew anything about the instructor’s schedule, because Lizaan would never have dared to sneak a glance at the instructor’s desk the last time he was in his office. Definitely not.

He scooped the rippleberries up and slipped them into his pocket. He needed to find somewhere he could safely dispose of them. He couldn’t risk just putting them in the trash, because he was fairly certain that the Aspirants’ garbage was “randomly” searched, too. But he also couldn’t just eat them, because that was against the rules. Someone was already trying to make him look guilty by planting the stolen rippleberries in his bunk. Lizaan wasn’t about to help them by incriminating himself. He considered reporting this to the instructor, but he figured this was probably something he had to take care of on his own. While he couldn’t risk incriminating himself, he also couldn’t afford to make himself look weak and incompetent.

He slipped through the corridors on quiet feet, heading in the direction of the Science Wing. Attendant Aspirants technically weren’t allowed there, but the instructor didn’t seem to care too much as long as it wasn’t a regular habit and they didn’t get caught without a good excuse.

Making sure he was securely in one of the few camera blind spots in the corridor, he took off his right boot and removed the sole. He took out the “borrowed” key card that he hid under there, put his shoe back on, and walked the rest of the way to the locked Science Wing door. He swiped the card along the locking mechanism, and the doors opened with a soft whoosh. The key card had been given to him by Marza, one of the Science Aspirants, and he’d given her a key card to the Attendant Aspirant Wing. Not that Marza had much use for it, not like Lizaan needed the Science Wing card. It was simply a nice thing to have, just in case.

The two had formed a sort of alliance. Marza was brilliant and Lizaan was quite competent and rather clever in his own right. They each figured that they both had a decent shot at reaching maturity, so forging an alliance early would likely be mutually beneficial in the future.

It also helped that Marza wasn’t competition. Lizaan had avoided making alliances with the others in his cohort. This left him somewhat vulnerable, but that was better than the alternative. Lizaan was a quick learner, and one of the first lessons he’d learned in his Aspirant training was that having an attachment to the others in his cohort was not a good idea. So Lizaan had gotten used to being the easy target with no one to back him up but himself, and he adapted. But that didn’t make it any less tiresome. So knowing that Marza had his back and he had hers without the looming knowledge  that they’d have to kill each other one day was… quite nice.

Lizaan made his way to one of the laboratories, listening for the sounds of footsteps or doors opening as he went. Once there, he made his way to one of the lab stations. They each had an incinerator attached to clean up any messes. He picked one that he knew didn’t have any sort of hidden spyware and also didn’t belong to Marza, just to be safe, before taking the offending rippleberries and dropping them in unceremoniously. He tapped the button to turn the incinerator on for a few seconds, then pressed it again to shut it off. He leaned over a bit to inspect the ashes, and, once satisfied, pressed another button that emptied the ashes into an unseen garbage receptacle. He used the screen attached to the station to wipe the record of his unauthorized use of the incinerator. He probably didn’t do as good a job as a Science Aspirant might have, but it should hold up. Then, he turned on his heel and left the Science Wing as quickly as he could without looking suspicious.

He hurried back to his dormitory. He wanted to get there before the instructor had a chance to go through it, and if his estimation was right, he only had a few minutes. He picked up the pace to a brisk walk and only slowed a bit when he was close. Once he was back in his dormitory, he dug through his belongings again to make sure no one had planted anything again while he was gone. When he was sure there was nothing, he put everything back where it was supposed to be. The room was empty, the other Aspirants all making use of their preciously limited free time by studying in the classroom or, more likely, sneaking around and engaging in activities similar to his own. Yet, he still felt as though he was being watched. These days, there was always a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. He always felt eyes on him, whether they belonged to his rivals, his instructor, the surveillance system, or just nothing at all. Wherever he went in the cloning facility that seemed to shrink in on him each day, he never felt truly alone. In an attempt to escape the feeling of being watched in an empty room, as well as to not look suspicious, or at least no more suspicious than usual, he grabbed his pad from the drawer under his bunk and headed to the classroom to “study” as well.

He sat down at one of the desks a reasonable distance away from the other Aspirants who all had their heads down and their noses in a pad. The room was silent except for him moving around. No one even looked up at him, yet the feeling of eyes remained. He felt uneasy disrupting the silence. Once he sat down and settled in, the quiet was restored, and he breathed an inaudible little sigh of relief. He selected a history reading on his pad. Privately, he considered the sacred history texts to be his favorites, and he certainly didn’t need to brush up on them at the moment. However, he wasn’t actually there to study.

His gaze rested on the words on his pad without registering what they said as he ran through the mental list he’d been compiling of possible suspects. The most likely culprit was Torin. She was sly and ruthless and certainly had no love for Lizaan. Kazo was also a suspect. He had always been perfectly amicable towards Lizaan for no apparent reason. Lizaan didn’t know how it was in other cohorts, but the Aspirants of Lizaan’s cohort were frostily neutral towards each other at best and downright hostile at worst. Kazo’s civility was anomalous and highly suspect. Then again, no one in Lizaan’s cohort was exactly trustworthy. It could’ve been any one of them.

Lizaan glanced around the room without moving his head, watching the others. He’d have to do more reconnaissance. Maybe he could trade something with Marza for a few small cameras so he could catch his enemy in the act. Afterwards, he’d figure out how to strike back. This enemy wanted to take him out with underhanded sabotage. Well, two could play at that game. Lizaan returned his gaze to his pad, but his mind remained elsewhere as he began to scheme. It wasn’t revenge he was after. Not exactly. He just knew he had to get rid of his enemy before they succeeded in getting rid of him.

#dominionweek #the dominion #lizaan #lizaan 1 #vorta oc #star trek ocs #star trek

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Maybe 23 with Aro and Peter, please?

Prompt 23: "you saved my life." "not a big d-" "no.you saved it."

I'm gonna go with my hunter au for this, the one where Peter is actually really good at being a hunter and Aro hires him for it.

Warning: injuries, venom-blood, blood, me taking that huge ass fight from the last movie and making it a reality cause fuck that 'it was a vision' thing, I want to see carnage!

On with the fic!

--

This was not one of Aro's better ideas, he could admit to that. Well, only to himself, he'd rather die than speak it aloud, and considering the situation he was in, there was a chance that the former would happen rather than the latter.

He was caught in the grip of those two vampires that just had to ruin everything. Really, he should have killed Bella when he had the chance, his fascination with her lack of response to any vampire gift had died the moment he met Peter, there was no real reason for her to even still be around. Damnit, he was really going to die with more regrets now, wasn't he?

He could feel nails in his skin, the burn of venom leaking from the small wounds as one of them tried to remove his head-

"Get off of him!"

Wait, was that-?!

Edward was suddenly shoved away, and that knocked Bella off. Aro dropped to his back, looking up, seeing his hunter standing there, looking a bit roughed up, blood leaking from a few scratches and scraps. Was he even developing a black eye? He was panting, in his hands a stake and a knife, both dripping with venom.

The shocking thing about Peter, more than him being here after his very loud and angry protests of this meeting being dangerous to everyone, was just how furious he looked. Aro had never seen him so angry before.

"If you know what's good for you," Peter snarled, "for your fuckin' families...! You will back the fuck off of him!"

"Did you not see what he-?" Bella started but Peter only flung the knife, just missing her foot but an inch, it went into the ground deep, Aro wondered how painful that would have been if it had hit her. She was still a new vampire, easier to kill, even if she was stronger at this stage.

"Oh yeah, I saw what the idiot had done, but let's be honest, both sides of this stupid fight were just itchin' to start decapitating each other. And if it wasn't him, it certainly was gonna be one of you doin' it!"

The young couple looked offended, conflicted, and just a bit guilty. There is blood on their hands just as there is on Aro's own from this fight. Hell, the smell of death was all around them, bodies slaughtered and burning, cries of pain and anguish everywhere, no one was winning today.

"Great way to introduce your kid to this world, guys, brilliant job." Peter scoffed.

"What does a human like you even know?" Edward asked, glowering.

"I know enough. And this 'human' isn't exactly easy to take down, your wife ain't the only one who can't be affected by powers here, she's not special." The hunter sniffed, pocketing his stake. "Let's go, Aro, before shit gets worse."

Aro frowned, looking at Peter as he rubbed at his neck, the tears were healed, though there might be scars. "You saved my life."

"Not a big d-"

"No. You saved it." Aro said, getting to his feet. "I... right, let's get going, before we lose more people."

Peter stared at him for a moment, was he aware? Had he seen any terror on Aro's face, at the very thought that he life was nearly snuffed out like a candle's flame if he hadn't arrived in that moment?

Aro would have to speak with him about it later, right now, they needed to go, before the young couple decided to continue what they started.

--

In case you're wondering, Peter was putting on a front, he was fucking downright terrified of being the only human in the middle of that huge battle and only just getting to Aro at the last second. It wasn't exactly easy avoiding all the fighting, he'll have a nice shower and a panic attack later when everything calms down.

Not sure if this event is gonna be canon to the au, but it might.

#the hunter au #vincturi #john's drabbles

[howdidthisevenhappenanyway]

so in the star wars universe in my head, a lot of cisn’t clones have very bold eye make up designs straight up tattooed on their faces

it was a trend started by an early CG shock trooper called Sonia. She, along with the Corries’ Chief Medic Garrotte (before she’d been promoted out of the field) and their she/they buddy Captain Stone got absolutely plastered one night after surviving their first multi-district fire in the undercity, and pulled out the tattoo gun along with the bright, Corrie red ink they’d managed to get somewhere.

Soon followed Jaig eyes for Stone—which even Fox had to admit looked so fucking cool he very nearly caved and forgave them for it—and a flame design for Sonia that was very nearly as cool. Garrotte got a comparatively simple line slashed over each eye, from the sides of her nose to just below her temple. Fox would have given her credit for her subtlety, but she also tattooed her neck to mimic her namesake, a wire-thin red line around her throat just above her voice box, with a little bow on it ‘tied’ off to the side, just to be cute.

Garrotte was one of Fox’s favourites. the truth was it was cute. She was adorable; but this dangerous modification to her appearance made him want to strangle her because he wanted her to be safe.

and so, Fox had an actual panic attack when he saw all three of them the next morning, nursing their monstrous hangovers with kaf strong enough to stand a spoon up in, but feeling extremely smug about their new ink; their table in the mess hall surrounded by a crowd of excited corries, many of whom were keen to get their own very identifiable facial tattoos. This was at the tail end of the early days, where the clone brass of 000 were finally figuring out that if they wanted to stop haemorrhaging shinies (who universally seemed to think it was a smart idea to take up Senators’ spouses and children on an easy fuck or two whenever given the chance, and were then surprised when they got caught and the universally controlling and horrible Senators punished them for it—by summarily ordering their murder) they would need to present an absolute bescar-clad, perfectly united front. Which pretty much meant looking exactly the same so they could switch in and out and confuse the shit out of the kinds of senators that thought being cruel to clones and sending them for reconditioning or even decommissioning was fun.

So to Fox (the one exception to these rules, as Palpatine had already singled him out, so he decided to all but paint a giant red target on his armour to draw all eyes to himself), three of their most vulnerable troopers straight up etching their identities on their eyelids was the very height of conspicuousness, and so dangerous even with their recently laid down Buckets Stay The Fuck On When Outside The Barracks policy, that he insisted on them taking up desk jobs for the foreseeable future, safe behind the many guarded doors of the offices—a move that Fox later had to admit had been fruitful, as all three ladies turned out to actually be pretty brilliant at logistics and paperwork wrangling; which would eventually get Stone promoted to Commander so they could wrangle even more flimsy into submission. Little did the cake eaters of the GAR know the person who actually turned up to receive those promotions and consequently endure their soliloquies about exemplary service and flimsy keeping the GAR rolling was Thire and not Stone. but there was nothing for it, she’d made her bed, she had to lay in it (though she honestly didn’t seem nearly contrite enough for Fox’s patience, even years later).

Similarly, Garrotte thrived as Chief Medic, and quickly turned the Coruscant Guard’s med bay into her own fiefdom, using her authority to ensure more corrie troopers survived than anyone could have predicted given the conditions and their lack of extra supplies for the troopers they managed to safe from Decom via stealthy chip removals, serial number swaps, and slick paperwork wrangling (in fact The Three Sisters were the ones behind most of those little rescues, and Fox made sure not to learn any of the details so he could claim ignorance).

Those tatts and Fox’s public breakdown were the catalyst for the later famous speech about staying the fuck alive in the corrie guard, which became an unofficial list of rules that made Fox infamous amoung the GAR for being a fun hater and ball breaker but had him loved withequal furivor among the CG as the shock troopers in red realised that he was right; their identical appearance was like a second set of armour, in a place where their chances of survival were so much more fraught than anyone could have guessed.

It did mean, unfortunately, that no other CG sisters were able to get themselves that most coveted eye ink for quite a while after that first incident, till things settled down a little, and the Commanders were able to establish some more nuanced rules, having been able to gather data and figure out the most perilous positions for displaying the slightest scrap of individuality (rule adjustment 5: If a Clone Trooper of the Coruscant Guard hasn’t been ordered to debucket by a natborn superior in a Coruscant year, they may begin to experiment with ink and hairstyles within certain limits, see Base Medic Pat for details—do not under any circumstances bug Chief Medic Garrotte with your cosmetic concerns, or you’ll find yourself scrubbing bedpans) but as Sonia, Garrotte and Stone were the life of the party at 79s, as well as intra-clone community social media networks, and were often seen in clone-only spaces without their helmets on; many of their sisters in the wider GAR saw their face art, and and wanted in.

All too soon, the clone girlies posted on fronts all over the galaxy were frothing for a chance to avail themselves of this absolutely fire look. it was a trend that swept through the republic army faster than any one thought possible, with the only roadblocks anyone would allow to slow their roll being those the medics were able to get into place with fear campaigns of a slip of the wrist poking out eyeballs, horrific infections, and lost eyesight; all of which would draw desperately unwanted Kaminiise attention, and affect their ability to aim properly. Thanks to recently promoted Chief Medic Garrotte, who herself had awesome eyelid tatts, CMs everywhere were able to finally lay down the law about the more dodgy diy tattoo operations some clones had resorted to, and ensure a certain limit on battalion tattooists to the clones who were able to get their hands on actually suitable tattoo guns (one of the designs of which were rumoured to have come from General Skywalker himself, but no one other than the 501 were sure of that, and those vod’e were known to be full of shit), and medic-stream tattoo artists with training enough to be trusted with someone’s delicate and very essential eyelids.

The day Commander Bly announced her gender on the unofficial command chat with smiling selfie fluttering her brand new egg-yolk-yellow eye tats (the motif a stylistic fluttering ribbon that circled around to curve prettily over each cheek bone) was one to be remembered; especially as she seemed to be more thrilled at famed space lesbian General Sekura’s having noticed and complimented her on them, than anything else.

While Stone’s jaig eyes, which had been rightfully earned during the Battle of Geonosis, remained beloved among the GAR, and were widely considered the standard for coolness and badassery as far as most sisters were concerned, each member of the clone brass had their own favourites among their Battalion. Cody had to say his was Lt Sohla’s marigold sunbursts, that she had shyly admitted were inspired by his paint. Captain Rex was a big fan of the ladies in the 501st who had done some interesting designs inspired by their own Commander’s distinctive face and lek markings; while Captain Keeli was pleased to be asked to design several eye tattoos among his trans siblings, all inspired by various types of plumage he’d seen in his travels. Those tattoos were quite popular, his artistic talent visible for all to see on his lovely armour.

The artists all agreed it was a fun challenge to find designs that were unique and interesting, but streamlined in order to be able to get some sort of idea across with as little needle contact with the delicate skin as possible, to ensure such a vital part of their siblings were able to heal swiftly, and remain unimpeded.

As time went on some few sisters still wanted to have dark and blocky designs like their older vod’e, but as time went on it grew more popular to have designs that consisted of just a few lines; enough to communicate an idea and change their eye shape subtly, which could then be added to or filled out with colourful and glittery cosmetics on the rare occasions they could get away with it; generally during shore leave and nights at 79’s

fig. 1-6 examples of the tattoos described in textc

image sources: stone, garrotte, sonia, sohla, vod’ika 1, vod’ika 2

#clone trends #clone sisters #star wars headcanons #clone trooper sonia #chief medic garrotte #commander stone #clone trooper sohla #commander bly #commander fox #cisn’t ​vod’e #this started out as an idle headcanon post and ended up sounding like a school assignment leia did in a universe where 66 didn’t happen #gonna try and chase down the awesome peopl whose faces these are #my ocs #oc headcanons #fox is trying to keep his siblings alive ok? #but he thinks the tatts look great

[missspringthyme]

January 11th, 2024

My sort-of-step-mom left today to go to California for literally one day. She has a gymnastics meet there, and since she'll be gone for a lot of this year and doesn't feel the need to go to Disneyland again, she decided she'd go for the minimum amount of time. Regardless, this means that I said goodbye to her today because I won't see her before I leave.

I did many last-minute errands today, I picked up my prescription, I went shopping for the things I had been asked to bring from the US, I went to pick up the ski jacket my mom had offered to give to me. That last one also doubled as me saying goodbye.

I don't really know how to feel about my mom right now, and I don't really know how to treat her, but I can at least come to tell her I'm leaving tomorrow. It also means I'm able to give my dog a goodbye as well. We've had him since I was 10/11 and I have loved very few things more than I have loved him. He's getting old though, and every time I leave it becomes more and more possible that it could be the last time I see him. I wish I could remove the grey from his muzzle and his eyes, but instead, I just hug him close and remove the food that gets stuck in his cheeks.

When I got home my dad offered to make spätzle, to which I asked if we could do something else. Now listen, I love spätzle as much as the next girl but the problem is my dad grew up with 7 siblings. That means he does not know how to make food for less than 10 people.

He had made some recently for Christmas and the leftovers and been slowly chipped away at over roughly 2 weeks. I tried to explain to him that just because I didn't want spätzle today doesn't mean I now suddenly hate spätzle, but I'm concerned the message did not get through. I know I'm going to be hearing about how I hate spätzle for the rest of time.

Anyway, his other option was that we go to his (I think) favorite restaurant, which does wood-fired pizza. He's become a regular there, and all the employees know who he is. I have to work hard to make sure we don't go there for lunch every Sunday. Still, it was the restaurant he had taken us to for dinner when I first arrived, so I figured it might be a nice bookend for my winter break. He told me to invite T as well, and got very frustrated when I told him that he was working right now so we would have to wait.

I tell T every time my dad invites him without me asking, because I know it makes him happy that my family wants him to be included.

My sister and I watched some tv together while we waited, and when T's shift was over we all headed to the restaurant. I asked my dad if we could get another pizza because last time I had been still hungry when I finished mine, and he and I had both stolen slices from my sister's pizza. I'll have to remember to suggest this in the future as well, because it was a brilliant idea on my part.

We ate and talked and my dad grilled me (of course) about when I would be back in the summer (I don't know if I can, much less when) and what my plans are for when I finish my Master's (take the time in between my thesis submission and graduation as a true break (maybe go to Italy?) and then hopefully start a job that helps with PhD applications).

We finished up and headed back, T spent the night again but completed the tradition of him watching me last-minute pack and clean well past midnight. We sat with each other a lot, and cried a little. In case no one told you, long distance is not very easy. I try to make sure he gets held for as long as I can before I leave.

#t #family #sister #january #mom #dog

[katsukikitten]

Just some general warnings and disclaimers, this is an aged up Victorian era AU that I did a sort of collab with @bakugotrashpanda, so please check out BTP’s work as well. We had so much fun discussing this idea and breathing life into it, we would love to hear how these stories made you feel. Please also note that the woman in the banner is NOT the set skin tone for reader so please feel free to have that match your own skin tone! Also this is one of my bigger works coming in at a little over 14,000 words! (maybe a part two idk) but enjoy~

The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food. 

Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not. 

Countless eyes rake over your long dress, always choosing a color so deep in hue it is often mistaken for black. They often murmur curiosities as they ponder over what exactly you are mourning.

Little do they know it is your freedom. 

Tonight you are in blood red with matching gloves to your elbows, diamonds, garnets and rubies drip from your throat and ears. A sight to be seen in your bold dark colors that are often frowned upon during the bright season of spring and summer. 

A bold male approaches and yet the closer he gets to your stunning form the more meek he becomes. He nods his head and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to your gloved knuckles. 

"May I have your first dance?" He peers up at you as you stare down with an icy glare. Removing your hand with deadly precision from a man you know of but could not care less about. 

"You may not." You say simply and all he can do is stew in his rejection, affirming your wishes with a small nod. Another male in a smooth storm grey suit approaches. His large hand grasping onto your fingers, bringing your knuckles to his lips. 

"You look exquisite my dear. Would you honor me with your first dance?" 

"I shall not." Another subtle yet swift removal of your hand from his, wishing you had worn two pairs of gloves for this sniveling little asshole. Not everyone knew his secret love for abusing women but you did. He would never get the pleasure of dancing with you and in the two years since your introduction into the market you've made sure he had no one to wed. Using the power and respect people had towards your Father's name, towards you for guidance, ultimately steering them away from this pathetic sack of bones. 

And with your power you were dubbed the icy hot debutante of Alryne, fierce as a flame so hot, it felt cold. 

You wear a neutral face, but you do not smile, making yourself a touch unapproachable. This already weeds out the weak men who want nothing more than to suck the blood and money from your father's estate. 

But it wasn't as if the neutral face was easy to achieve, oftentimes you had to fight a scowl. For two years you've hated every second of every ball, party, or soiree since the Queen smiled in your favor during your first debut. She often praised, as did your mother, your cold precision, quick wit, and intelligent political decisions that were so well disguised that men just thought you modest. 

When in actuality you were playing the game, and since you were being forced to play by your father then by Hell's flames you would win it all. 

The first half of the ball drags in stupor of tedious repetition as you idly chat with women of various titles to gather any information you could without revealing your own hand. 

Besides all of the pestering gnats, everyone knows that your first dance is always reserved for important males, to never approach until after the two of your six stamps have already been taken. Even then there was a high chance of rejection, as there were no men of value to be seen. 

At least not yet. For as long as you could remember the higher ranked males arrived a touch late, "fashionably late" they claim. Abhorrently annoying is what you call it.  

Fashionably late men such as Lord Bakugou, son to the Duke of Summer or his distant cousin Lord Kirishima, son to the Duke of Spring. 

Bakugou arrives first, his grin wolfish as he scans the crowd, women flock to his arrogance in troves, although he ignores them. He has one woman in his sights yet it is not the woman he stands before. You give a small courtesy as you speak. 

"My Lord." Offering your hand gently. 

"My Starlight." He presses his lips to your silky glove for a long moment unable to keep his cocky smirk off of his face, "May I take your first dance?" 

Fighting to keep the delighted smile off of your face you offer a flutter of your lashes. He kisses your knuckles once more as if you needed convincing but the two of you know what you are doing. 

"You may." And with that his wolfish grin returns as he sweeps you onto the dance floor, showcasing your abilities as he shows off his own. Not to mention the dance floor is a great place to talk in private. His hand lingers just above your lower back, firm in his grip as his other hand holds yours almost delicately. 

"We match tonight, my Starlight. A brilliant touch." He guides you along the floor with ease, his eyes gesturing towards his vest and tie. 

"I only took an educated guess as to what you would wear, my Lord." 

"Do not sell yourself short. I know how sharp that mind is." Another wolfish grin, his eyes never leaving yours while feeling the court gaze upon the two of you. You give him a knowing smile before asking. 

"Any luck with her majesty, the prized diamond?" You ask, eyes blazing with curiosity. He smirks again, only his eyes revealing his true scoff as he twirls you in your jeweled slippers. 

"I did as you instructed and went with my father to that dreaded stay at the countryside Manor, how did you know her Majesty and Princess Amila would be close by." 

"I took an educated guess." A blatant lie that has him grinning from ear to ear. He leans closer, pulling the attention of the ladies especially as his ember eyes burn into you. 

"Far more than an educated guess." He spins you again and you fight the tightness in your gut. Enjoying the dance as he parades you around the room as if to say look at what I have that you could never. 

Even if the two of you agreed you would never be his. The two of you having struck up an arrangement of sorts on your first dance. He was forced by his Grace to ask at least one woman to dance and he had only chosen you with hopes that you would say no. 

But you loved the honest, irritated look that lingered in his eyes and on his lips. So of course you said yes as misery loves company. It was then he told you not to fall for him as he had his eyes set on the Crown, you laughed loudly and said "As if I would ever fall for an arrogant pig such as yourself, my Lord." His smile was wild as he enjoyed your insult, it was then you told him you would help him with the Crown, only if he made you his first and last dance of the evening at every event. 

Back then he had hesitantly agreed, now he can see how far your scheming mind went. Saw the numerous callers and suitors who loitered in your parlor, the extravagant flowers that they sent in excess. The rings they bestowed to you as they dropped to one knee, bold enough to peacock the large diamonds in front of other callers. 

And all after Bakugou had done as you asked for only three parties. He got a front row seat to rejection every single time, which in turn started the talk, the gossip, that this city loved.  You were desired because of how you painted yourself and in turn made Lord Bakugou desired as well. Talked about, all because he was the only male who had your approval. 

He loved your scheming mind so much he could kiss you, but alas you did not wear a crown. Although you often had a braid of jewels atop your head, sadly you were not kin to royalty, only a Baron's daughter after all. 

Bakugou wonders what you could have done as a queen. He would think you an empress.

"Is that all the detail I get? Just a confirmation that I was correct about their holiday?" He spins the two of you in step, hand guiding you although you did not need it. Having memorized every step to every dance there was since before your debut. 

"She saw me." 

"And?!" You can hardly keep up the façade of calm collection as you wait. 

"And she flushed. Her cheeks were as red as any rose, Starlight, she was a rare red diamond sparkling by the lake. She must already be in love with me."  You snort, unable to stop the smile on your lips. 

"I've never heard you so poetic before. Normally you leave that to Lord Kirishima. How many times did you run into her? Not more than three I hope."

"Oi, I am a well versed student and I listened to my teacher. I made her wait for the fourth and denied it. Left her in wonder and hope as you said." He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up to your dress line touching your bare skin with his beneath your guise of hair. The sensation of his warm fingers against your cool skin does not go unnoticed. 

"Are you practicing for your dance with the 'rare red diamond' now?" You taunt, earning that chest tightening wolf grin. 

"I'm only doing as my teacher has instructed." 

"Well the Princess will fall for you the moment you kiss her hand." 

"One can only hope. Her official debut is less than a month away. I want it to be perfect." His eyes shimmer with plotting mischief as does yours. 

"So it shall." 

The music flows and ebbs to the end of the song as Bakugou deposits you right back where he got you. Bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he holds your gaze once more. 

"My Starlight." When he straightens you curtsy.

"My Grace." With that he leaves, heading towards the table of sweets and beverages, you were sure he would be ordering bourbon. Your mother clears her throat from her chair, the out of season silk blanket over her thick skirts pulls at your heart. She sits on that plush chair as if it were her throne. 

"You dance with Lord Bakugou often." An observation. 

"Indeed." A dry retort. 

"I am sure Lord Kirishima will be your next dance, correct?" 

"One can only hope." 

"So you have an eye for a Duke's son?" 

"I am happy to dance with those deserving, Mother." Your mother keeps her eyes on the turning bodies on the hardwood floor, Kirishima makes his way through the crowd once he spies you. Your mother turns to face you as she says 

"Is the Duke of Winter's son deserving?" 

"Hmm, he has three sons, mother." You keep your eyes away from her until she finally looks back into the crowd. 

"Ah yes but only one is ever at these events." You follow your mother's gaze and they fall upon the Lord, he is the third son, he opted to chase after the world of medicine rather than women. Earning his doctorate much faster than his peers, he only just returned to conduct his practice in Alryne. 

Pity he returned at all. 

He catches your eye and you make a point to turn your cheek, unable to stomach his heterochromatic, condensing gaze. Your turned cheek was as close to fuck you as you could ever say to the high and mighty Lord. Still the words burned on your tongue as if you swallowed acid. 

"It is not as if he ever dances mother. Therefore, how can I give him my attention? As you taught me a woman must wait to be asked as it is every woman's dream to be wed to a handsome, skilled dancer." Out of the corner of your eye you can feel her displeased look before she straightens. 

"At least do not string along Lord Kirishima, that boy is not as zealous as his cousin." She says just as the large man slips through the last throng of the crowd. 

"My shining gem." He smiles with sharp teeth before he places a chaste kiss atop your hand. 

"My Lord." A curtsy before he asks. 

"May I have this dance?" His smile is plastered on his face as he knows your answer. 

"You may." Kirishima sweeps you across the floor in a different manner than Bakugou. Lord Kirishima is more flirtatious in the way that he guides you. Always choosing more of the upbeat dances as opposed to his cousin's serious selection. You do not hesitate to go in for the kill. 

"So when do you plan to ask Lady Mina for her hand?" He blushes at your words. Biting the inside of his lip subtly, a habit you could only notice from being up close. 

"Have you even attempted to court her? What fear plagues you, Lord?" Confusion dots your features as a sad smile paints his soft lips. 

"I am not sure she would- That we would be an ideal fit." Kirishima admits, turning you gracefully, pulling you close to his body. Scandalous some would say had the two of you been an inch closer. 

"Well my Lord, I believe, had you actually talked to her while the two of you danced, as I suggested, then you would come to find out that she is lovely. Pure hearted as she is honest in this game seeking love. Most women here are making attempts to move up in position, my Lord. As a Duke's first son the title of Grace is yours to master. She is a delight and air is not the only thing between her ears as some of these…"You survey the room as everyone watches with greedy eyes, "Vultures." 

He laughs never used to your own unwavering honesty. He knows you are not participating by your own free will, he knows because you are helping himself and his cousin when he was sure you could have had anyone in this room.

If the Majesty's nephew, Prince of the Yarrow were to attend even one ball this season, Kirishima was sure you would have his attention too.  

He twirls your body away from his and brings you back to the safety of his sturdy form. Your eyes are molten determination as you all but hiss 

"Ask her to dance next. You know the host prefers the set to be serious, flirtatious, and then a slow dance. It will be the perfect time to talk." 

Lord Kirishima sighs, squeezing your hand as he guides the two of you closer to your mother so he can leave you in her company. 

"You could turn any dull man into something more. Whoever wins your hand is getting a precious gem indeed." He kisses your hand as the music begins to change into something slower as you had predicted. 

"One shall only hope." You curtsy as he takes his flushed neck towards a certain Countess. Your mother gives you a knowing look and you offer her a cat smirk. She shakes her head but even she cannot hide her own satisfied smile.

A blonde male approaches, as he does every third ball after he ensures your first two dances have been taken. The flamboyant male has not once asked for a dance first, trying to be just as calculating as you. Although he is much more obvious. 

You suppose it was not half bad for a male. 

"My lady." He bends lower than he should for his station in life, but he is obviously copying the cousins before him having seen how it makes you smile. 

Lavender eyes shine up at you as the Viscount brings his lips to your gloved hand. You debate if you should say yes tonight. Having left him in the dark as your desire to dance with him solely depended on your mood. 

"May I show the room the grace in which steals the breath from my lungs?" Your eyes smirk as your lips form a small smile. It seems flattery would earn him a dance tonight. 

"You may." 

The Viscount smiles with delight as he gently takes you to the dance floor, holding you to him as he takes you across the hardwood. The candle lights play along your features as Monoma's face grows soft. Had he been anyone else his gaze might have brought a flush about you. The two of you shared a few dances before, he has sat in your parlor in the time he has attempted to court you and the flowers he sends are always the most expensive. 

He has even brought you chocolate from a month's long trip. Even you had to admit that was thoughtful, not too many people knew of your Achilles heel. A small part of you thought that if no one else would do, at least this man would bring you luxurious chocolates. 

"No trips this season?" You smile politely, he blinks as he seems to come to. 

"Only if I can take you with me." He smiles, a hint. You pretend yourself modest and look away to fight the roll of your eyes. 

Maybe chocolate would not be enough to sate you. 

His eyes flicker to your mother as a question forms on his lips. 

"Neither your brothers nor the Baron attended tonight?" 

"Ah unfortunately no. My mother is my chaperone tonight." You say tilting your head, he turns so you can face her, stepping slowly as the song lulls on. 

"I am elated she is well enough to attend." He smiles, you cannot tell if it reaches his eyes so instead you offer 

"As am I." 

The rest of the night is filled with rejection tumbling from your rouged lips as champagne flutes seem to find their way into your hand. 

"Not too much of that dear or you will not be able to enjoy the company of your suitors." 

"Truly a pity." You say taking another from a passing waiter. Eyes trained on Lord Iida and the lovely dancer in his hands, a blue dress sweeping across the floor and a white carnation nestled in her hair. 

A beautiful touch and it pays homage to their first dance before they were even wed. 

The love that embraced the couple could turn anyone in the room green with envy. 

You down your flute as you reach for another. 

Night brightens into morning much too soon as curtains are ripped open in your room. 

"My lady callers will be here soon." Rose, your handmaiden says softly, "I have a bath waiting for you."

You groan in response having not had enough sleep after pouring over your drafts for your book until your candle snuffed itself out. 

"Turn them all away Rose." You growl turning away from the irritating light, could it not have rained this morning to delay the suitors as it always did in this forsaken town?

"She will do no such thing." Your mother says as she walks into your room with her cane, her hand gripping onto the golden beak of a bird. 

"Mother, why not marry off Hendrix or  Hideki?" 

"Hendrix must apprentice under your Father for a period of time while Hideki can do as he pleases for now. He is only 20, besides he makes an excellent chaperone does he not? He isn't too nosy nor does he neglect his duties to intimidate pushy men." She pushes some of your hair back as she sighs, "Although I doubt you need help in that manor." 

"I deserve a strong bloodline, so I will do what I must to ensure that. Even if my face has to be scary at times." You and your mother share a laugh before she adds. 

"Your face is far from scary my dear." She touches your cheek softly rising from the bed to allow you to get ready, "The suitors shall arrive within the hour. Make haste." 

"Yes mother." You half groan rising to wash. Enjoying the warm water that Rose has so kindly added aromatic flora and citrus to. Once you enter your bedroom Rose has a dress picked out for you, waiting for your final approval. You nod allowing Rose to assist you with your corset and strings of your dress before you pick out jewelry to match your silver finery. You choose a silver bracelet with little diamonds as stars that Lord Bakugou had given you for your birthday this past year, smiling down at the small thing before assessing yourself in the mirror. 

"What do you think Rose, should I add some rouge to my lips?" She gives you a smile of delight. 

"And your cheeks too, my Lady." 

Breakfast is served in the parlor as it consists mostly of fruits and finger pastries that will be served to the other guests. Hideki comes down in a fine and deep sapphire suit. 

“Sister.” He gives a smirk to which you nod.

“Brother.”

“And what trouble will you get into today?” He stage whispers, causing you to cut him a glare as your father comes around to loom in the arch way of the parlor. 

“Remember, you need to pick a husband this season or I will pick for you. It is disgraceful to have gone through two seasons at your age.”

“I am only twenty four, dearest Father..”

“That just proves my point. You have a month before I extend an offer to the Duke's-.” He takes in a sharp breath to chide you further only for his Grace to swoop in and save the day.

“Baron.” Bakugou says, his eyes challenging as your father bows his head. As Bakugou makes his way towards the delicate foods. Father cuts you a knowing glare. As if to say I know your games child.

You offer a sweet smile as you make your way towards your small writing desk, fighting off the urge to groan outwardly. You just wanted to work on your manuscript or read for that matter. Instead you would have to entertain men who cared not what you thought only what your pretty mouth would not say. They would swarm you, demanding attention as you waved them off gently, half you had never even spoken too.  Bakugou gives you a wicked smile from beside you as if he could read your thoughts. At least he always sat closest to you, saving you in a way although you never instructed him to sit close. 

He just always had. 

"Do you not want to play the piano today, my shining Gem?" Kirishima asks from the door. 

"Ah I am not sure I am in the mood for it, my Lord." 

"Easier to avoid people as the bench is only meant for one." Bakugou gives a devilish smirk, Kirishima almost pouts, his sullen expression does not go unnoticed by his cousin. 

"It has been an eon since you last played for us." Bakugou adds. 

"Am I to be your song bird today?" You cut a glare at him. 

"Yes, Starlight I believe you are." It seems it had no effect. Sighing you stand, collecting your skirts as your wrist twinkles in the morning sun. Garnet eyes bore into the delicate wristlet. Your fingers pluck a key here or there until you begin to play. Losing yourself in the music as you sing ballads from ages ago, melding them into songs you've written until it all sounds like a cohesive piece. Each old song is lost in transition to the new one, time ticks on but you do not notice the string of men who come and go from your parlor. Resting your voice for the time being as your fingers fly across the keys to something you composed while thinking of your father and his ever pushing hand towards a Duke's son you had great distaste for. The notes are sharp, almost jarring at times yet still the piece is stunning.  In that time you had not noticed the lavender eyed man who sat closest to you, right in front of the piano in the corner of the couch. The finger cramping song ends on a somber, harsh note. 

"What a beautifully charged song." Monoma says breathlessly. 

“Well I was thinking of my enemies when I composed it.” You smile at the sunshine blonde with a devilish grin, he feels unsettled by it but says nothing nonetheless. His lavender eyes glance over to the wolves at the back of your den. Hideki gives him a small nod, Kirishima a soft smile but Bakugou gives him a glare that feels like Monoma is gripping needles. 

He swallows thickly, adjusting himself on the plushed silk of the couch before your small piano. 

“Ah before I forget.” He smiles pulling out a box setting it atop the polished wood. Gifts were a natural part of courtship or so your mother said. You offer a smile, grabbing for the box with poised eagerness and yet not overly so. 

Not that you were excited but you had to pretend to be. You unbox the obvious jewelry and fight back the distaste as you stare down at a gaudy, overly large necklace. The colors are a soft green and yellow, colors you avoid for many reasons. 

“Thank you.” You think to add a chord or two to your unnamed song in honor of Monoma. Bakugou laughs loudly from the back of the room, feeling how much you hate the gift, you look over your shoulder to send him a glare that he can only smile at. 

After hours of trepid and boring conversation Monoma takes his leave. 

“Another evening my Lady.” He smiles softly and you return it half heartedly.

“Another evening.” Lavender looks over your shoulder before Monoma clears his throat

“Your Grace and your Grace.” He bows his head, the ash blonde and redhead nod in unison. 

"Shall we go and drink my high friends?" Hideki asks, hoping for an excuse to leave the stuff house. He was more than over bearing witness to  gag worthy stares and compliments some of these men gave you. 

"An excellent idea!" Kirishima exclaims, standing before stopping by you. He takes your gloveless hand with a sharp, flirtatious smile. 

"My shining gem." He presses his lips to your skin and you return his smile. 

"My Lord." He nods and takes his leave, Hideki at his heels as Bakugou approaches. He does an exaggerated sigh unable to hide his smirk. 

"Little songbird how will I ever get through the night without my Starlight?" He holds your hand, lowering his upper half as did his cousin before him. 

"I suppose you will fumble in the dark."

"If only I had the pleasure." He purrs as he presses his lips to your bare skin. Suddenly his fingers are too warm as he holds your gaze, he looks as if he could devour you. 

Lest he forget he is staring down a panther himself. 

"Have fun fumbling in the dark by yourself, my Lord." You remove your hand and look out of the corner of your eye at him. He backs towards the door of the room. 

"I should hope to have thoughts of Starlight." He calls before he disappears into the hall. You tap a key as your mind wanders before you rise, famished and ready for dinner before you would take a long night of writing. 

A month passes by faster than you'd like and you find yourself outside of the ballroom in the grand hall of the castle. Soft music filters in through the doors as your Father insisted the family be a bit late this evening. 

For he wanted to make a statement and one at your expense. 

"If Duke Enji's son asks you for a dance you will oblige." Your father hisses, his large hand curling around your bicep. You bare your teeth, stepping out of his grip as you collect yourself. 

"He has three." Acid drips from your tongue as sure as morning dew. 

"The doctor. Not the failure first born and not the inadequate second. The third. Shoto. Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"

"I think you will not weaponize her. So do as I please and decline." You hold his burning glare as you add, "If the Duke's family is as bad off as you make it seem." 

"Oh I think you shall accept his dance. Or so help me God I will burn every book your ill, grief stricken mother ever shoved into your scrubby little hands." He leans closer, a nasty smile forming as his lips, "And if that is not enough I will throw your manuscript into the fire for fodder." 

Your eyes blaze with a rage that ignites beneath your skin, burning your blood as your eyes make unspoken promises. When I am through with you 

You part your lips to retort but your eye catches Hendrix and Hideki, their eyes filled with pity before your mother slowly approaches. 

Father chose his battleground well, knowing you would be unable to react as you pleased and with Bakugou already at the party there was no other male to save you. You bite your tongue until you taste blood. 

"Is everything alright?" Mother asks tentatively, fussing with your hair, "Darling you must mind your face, my love." 

You swat her away, breathing through your nose as if you were a dragon. Heat still dancing in your veins as you allow your feet to move on their own. 

"Announce me. Only me. And do not announce another soul until I am beyond the last step." You hiss to the harbinger whose eyes grow wide before he nods. His voice booms over the murmurers of the crowd and once eyes begin to land on you they are silenced. 

Your eyes are set hard and as cold as stone as you look over the crowd, slowly descending the steps in your deep ombre gown. Starless night black from the bodice before it lightens gradually into a charcoal grey, glittering crystals sewn into the material shine in the candle light like miniature stars. Your gloves followed the same gradual pattern except it seemed as if each finger was dipped in glittering silver and atop your wrist was your favorite piece, diamonds winking in the low light set into silver pointed stars. Woven in your hair were diamonds and pale citrine alike forming a crown in its own nature. 

Had Her Royal Highness not have already been announced and seated it would be easy to mistake you for the Crown. Considering how you commanded attention and held yourself, eyes looking at no one but seeing all. 

The envy, the awe, the lust. 

A pivotal moment was coming, the last three stairs is where a woman would normally hold out their hand, expecting their favorite suitor to take action but you did not hold out your hand. Keeping one firmly on the dark wood of the banister while the other was eloquently posed beside you. Even if you had held out your hand the men in the room were too stunned to step up to help you. This allowed a soft, devilish smile to form on your painted lips as they performed exactly as you had planned. Finally your gem encrusted slipper touched the hardwood, parting the crowd before the spell was broken by the announcement of the rest of your family. The room let out a collective breath and instantly erupted in hot gossip. All of it falling on deaf ears as you grabbed onto a flute of trusted champaign. 

From across the room you felt burning garnet eyes on you, you met them briefly before sipping at your bubbly beverage. He begins to cross the sea of bodies when a large man steps into your view. 

His eyes are cold as they bore into you, a shining sapphire paired with a smokey quartz. Distaste curdles your stomach as you fight to keep your face neutral and your eyes trained on him. Fans block painted lips as they spread more gossip about the man before you. 

"Is she ensnaring another Duke's son?" 

"She is becoming too haughty for a Baron's daughter." 

"Do you think she insulted the Crown with her entrance?" 

"Would you allow me your first dance?" His deep voice cuts through the vultures' cries pulling you back to him. He has your glittering left hand in his. Brining the dazzling glove to his lips in greeting, there is no joy in his gemstone gaze. 

The hot rage bears its teeth again as it surges through your blood like liquid fire, burning so hot it felt cold as it licked at your bones. Your lip barely twitches, No poised on your tongue as your father's grating voice echoes in your head. 

"Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?" 

And so your mouth finally forms the words. 

"You may."  He looks surprised, surrounding faces mirror his own before he fully takes your hand. Guiding you to the floor during one of your favorite songs that you always sat out as no dance partner ever dared the secret, advanced steps. You were steeling yourself for disappointment 

Shoto's grip on your body is tight but not uncomfortable as he sweeps you across the dance floor, twirling you, guiding you as he holds your gaze. His stare is heavy and intense in a different manner from Bakugou's with a hint of something that could be mistaken as flirtatious. But you saw it for what it was, discontent. 

As the song pushed on the discontent seemed to change into something new entirely as he showcased your skill while hiding his own. Allowing you to twirl away from him in several rotations that would make even the most skillful dancer fearful of misstep and yet you breathed in the music as if it were precious air. Neither of you notice how the other dancers give you room, allowing for more twirls and advanced steps as the two of you are becoming lost to the music. His fingers brush your bare skin as he pulls you back to him for  guided, sharp steps as the music heightens. His skin brushes yours again, electricity thrums beneath the pads of his fingers before he sends you into another dizzying rotation but to you it was nothing. Briefly you wonder if this were a test until you see the soft smile on his lips when you return to his arms safely for the final set of guided steps before the music were to abruptly end, just as the dance was intended. His eyes were glued to yours the entirety of the dance, softening with each step. 

Both of you stop in beat with the last soaring note panting as the movement seems to catch up with the two of you. Neither of you realize how quiet the room is until clapping comes from the royal dais high above the room, the rest of the crowd follows suit. Shock melts into a smile as your eyes return to his. A sharp pain rings out in his chest. 

"Not bad for a Baron's daughter." Disgust settles on your face faster than you can stop it spewing from your lips. 

"Not bad for a recluse of a Duke's son." You tilt your head up, fighting the snarl of your lip as his face becomes so mind numbingly neutral while his eyes darken. Shoto drops you off by your mother only for Bakugou to approach, swiftly bringing you to the floor for a slow song. 

"Starlight. How did I not know you could dance like that?" He is astonished by your skill, "I've never seen you so happy. Maybe the Duke of Winter's third son will do you justice yet." 

You scoff but all Bakugou can do is offer you a deadly smile. 

"Enough about my dead end dancing." Your eyes glance towards the dias, the Princess cannot look away from the two of you, "This should be enough for the Princess to want to dance soon." 

It is Bakugou's turn to scoff. 

"Are you sure she is even going to have the opportunity to dance? No one is even allowed on the stairs to their enclave." 

"Ah but this is her debut. The Queen will allow it, besides the princess cannot keep her gaze off of a certain ash blonde." 

"How could she ever?" Your laugh rings out, it warms even the coldest hearts as Bakugou pulls you closer to him. Heat radiates from his body in a calming manner, your fingers squeeze his. 

"Arrogant as ever." You smile, thinking how you will miss dancing with him or even having him at the back of your parlor to laugh with over sad attempts at your hand, "Remember once you take her one dance for the night, she must be your first and last dance of the night in the future, if not your only." 

Bakugou cannot hide the dejection in his eyes even as he feigns cockiness. 

"I am a well versed student, remember?" His fingers brush over your skin, his middle finger tracing a small circle. 

"The best student I could ask for." The music comes to a close on more than just the song as Bakugou returns you to your family. He presses a long kiss to your glittering glove. 

"Until we meet again, my Starlight." He holds your stare. 

"Until then my Grace." With that the night sets into motion as you turn down dances left and right. Eyeing a ruby haired man who twirls a certain countess in his hands. As the music ends the Queen stands earning a hushed crowd. 

"My daughter, the Royal Princess shall take the dance floor, she will only allow one dance on the night of her debut." It is not a shock that she is allowed so little but there is no worry on Bakugou's face. The princess straightens at the top of the stairs, trying to exude the same commanding energy you did. She falls short in power but outshines you in other wordly innocence and grace. As if she were a lily that only bloomed for the moon, her beauty unmatched in her pale pink dress. Carefully she guides the layers of it down the steps as diamonds and pearls drip from her hair and throat. She tries to keep her eyes from sticking to a broad shouldered man and yet at the same time from wandering, as she stares at the back wall of the room. 

As she nears the third step Bakugou struts towards his prize with the ease of a relaxed swagger, glaring at men as he passes before he reaches the bottom of the steps. Extending his hand to the Princess just as she hits the third step from the bottom. She cannot keep the smile off of her face as her gloved hand claps onto his bare fingers. He bows deeply, raising her hand above him to look from beneath long lashes before he brings his lips to the silk. 

"Your Royal Highness, my shining diamond. You are truly the envy of the night." A flush gives the Princess' lack of experience away, "May I have this dance?" 

"You may." It is a breathy answer before Bakugou sweeps her off of her feet. Charming her with each calculated step and  arrogant quip. The princess smiles wide and almost pouts once the music begins to ebb. Bakugou returns her to the stairs, supporting her hand as long as he can before she rises out of reach.

But to Bakugou she never was and never will be unattainable. 

Before the night is over an envelope is pressed into your hands with the Crown's seal pressed into the wax. You quirk your brow, tucking it away to be read at home. 

"I am so elated you came." Her voice is like honey as the butler opens the doors to a parlor so large it could hold your entire home. She guides you towards a small table and fights with the layers of her silk dress before sitting.

"How could I reject a personal invitation from her majesty?" You sit across from her, eyes going over the deck of cards and a set of tea. 

"Well, believe it or not, I do not have the pleasure of friends, so please call me Amila." 

"Everyone would desire to be a friend of the Crown, your Royal Highness." You counter, quickly she points her fan towards you, tapping your side of the small ornate card table. 

"Ah but you do not have the desire to befriend the Crown, so I have high hopes that you will befriend me for me." She smiles, a certain gleam to her eye before she says, "Now let's talk about handsome Bakugou and how well you played me." 

Your face gives nothing away as you look up from the cards you've been dealt. Your mind rushes down all possible avenues but you know to avoid the one of playing dumb. It is obvious that the Princess has a keen eye. 

"Surely you'll reveal to me what gave us away." 

"After that dance Bakugou had with me, had I been anyone else he would have returned to you. He either has his only dance with you or his last dance with you. I figured him or Lord Kirishima to be heavily interested in you. You are a sparkling gem amongst the coal down there so I know you have many callers and suitors. But the last to leave are always Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima. That is what has thrown me off the scent."  You laugh at her honesty of the knowledge she has obviously collected about you or was tactful enough to guess. 

"This is what we do, your Royal Highness." Your gloved hand gestures to the table, "I take them for all that they are worth." An honest giggle leaves Amilia's lips.

"For that I am grateful and some would dare say I am in your debt." 

"A brazen statement." Your eyes return to your cards, "I would not state it as a debt although I am happy to receive your gratitude. Especially since it is in the form of cards and cake." 

A laugh falls from her lips as a smile settles on yours. The round of cards continues. You win the first few rounds and then Amelia has a lucky hand. Winning the last white tea macaron. 

"Did you allow me to best you?" 

"Lady Luck just happened to take favor of the Crown." 

"Or maybe she took pity. " She smiles, fingers fidgeting nervously, "Would you care to admire the art? Mother allows me to have this as my own personal parlor so I decorate it as I wish." 

"I would love to admire some of these lovely paintings. Starting with the one behind you." You stand, heading to the large piece you had been eyeing for some time during the games. You could tell by the stroke of the brush that the artist was newer to painting but they were quite talented, the strokes almost went unnoticed even by your sharp eye. 

Most importantly were the emotions the work of art evoked from the viewer. 

Silently the two of you drank in the large oil painting. The canvas colored in deep pinks, reds and oranges as the sun laid to rest to allow its lover the full scope of the sky. Shadows stretched far and towards the viewer and if one paid close attention they would notice the black cat in the corner with two large moon eyes. 

You especially liked this painting, the ease it made you feel even earning a small smile. 

"I can already tell this one is by far my favorite, your Royal Highness you have a fine eye for art." She blushes at your compliment, twisting some of her low hanging hair. You keep your amusement of her flustering to yourself, eyes trained on the swirling colors of the rippling blue mirror of the sky, looking for a signature. 

Odd, there isn't a looping set of initials in the corner like most have. As if reading it on your face she speaks. 

"I- I am the artist…" It is shy and soft, unlike the Princess and you realize the weight of the truth. That she had not heard one genuine compliment of anything that she had ever done. 

All she would ever receive is flattery and only for the hopes of kindness from the Crown. Finally time swallows up her sudden meekness as she blurts out.  

"Are you sure Lord Bakugou is not in love with you? I know you fancy Lord Todoroki, Doctor Shoto." 

"I do not fancy the Doctor, he simply is the most logical option I have currently, he would make a fine partner and husband. The seasons have not brought anyone new and my days of spring are limited." You idly move to the next painting as you speak, "As far as Lord Bakugou, he and I are too much alike. Too ambitious for our own good, we'd either explode or implode I'm afraid. Like some tragic star in the vast galaxy." 

"You would not marry for love?"  

"It is best to marry for a strong partnership, love is a possible byproduct, however it proves to be a rarity. Love comes with time, your Royal  Highness, a luxury us women do not have." You glance her way, "Not even a Princess is immune to this unfortunate condition from which all women suffer." 

"But he looks at you with intense burning, with...love." 

A quiet moment passes between the two of you before you offer your honesty. 

"He would learn to look at you that way, more than he would see the Crown. Especially with your mind and artistic skill. He would be a fool not to fall for you." Her eyes water at your response, "Come, let me teach you how to best Bakugou at his favorite card game, Amelia."  

When you return home later that afternoon Bakugou is fidgeting outside of the manor causing your brow to furrow. Then it dawns on you that one of your brother's has a big mouth and told his Grace where you would be. 

"My Lord." 

"Starlight." He offers you a strong arm and you take it as he guides you up the stairs and into the parlor just off the foyer. 

"Are you here to gossip?" You trust Bakugou enough to go without a chaperone, besides the doors to the parlor are wide open. You sink into your writing chair as he takes his normal seat by your side. The plush cushions do not ease his twitching fingers before you give him a playful shove. 

"Out with it then!" You giggle, the sound pulls a devilish smirk from the blonde seemingly easing whatever troubled his mind. He leans back into the cushions. 

"So, how much did her Highness speak of me? Endless compliments no doubt." His teeth flash white as you roll your eyes. 

"And here I thought you had a pressing matter." You move to turn away from him to focus on writing but he grabs onto your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as his face gives him away. The tips of his ears burn before he clears his throat. 

"I have to show you something and I need your honest opinion." Silence is his answer as you patiently wait for him to produce the mystery item. Slowly he reaches into his pocket, a black velvet box is in his hands. A smile blooms on your lips as you anticipate the ring he must have picked for the princess. He opens the box and your heart free falls into your stomach. 

It is a pear shaped black diamond flanked by silvery diamonds that wink in the afternoon sun. At the top of the circle of diamonds was a deep red garnet that looked like a drop of blood. The ring felt powerful if it could make one feel such a thing. You fist your skirts as you collect yourself.  He watches your face contort as you look over the ring, his jaw ticking with worry as you assess what is essentially both his ego and pride. 

But the ring is breathtaking, perfect really. 

"Katsuki, it is a gorgeous ring…" Your voice trails as you admire it, "But I believe the princess to have less...moody tastes. She does not normally wear dark colors." 

A small silence stretches between the two of you, almost as if he expects something else, quickly he snaps the box shut. 

"This is why I ask you things, my stunning Starlight." He pulls out a red velvet box popping it open. This ring is beautiful as well but does not have your heart as much as the first. 

It is a stunning and giant marquise cut white diamond. Blinding in the light with a halo of pale pink diamonds. It is vibrant, radiant like the princess. Katsuki always did pick out the perfect jewelry to match a woman's tastes. Bakugou watches your face carefully, the sad smile that pulls your lips upward causes a deep ache in his chest. His jaw ticks again but you answer before he can even think to lash out. 

"Your Grace, this will surely win her heart." He looks you in your eyes, a flash of an emotion you cannot quite catch before his arrogance returns. 

"Indeed it shall. We can discuss the best date to ask another time." He closes the box and tucks them both away, he grabs your left hand, fingers ghosting over the bracelet he gave you, "You seem tired, you should get some rest." 

"I believe that to be a grand idea." You say softly as he kisses each knuckle. He squeezes your fingers. 

"My life would be dark without you my Starlight." You fight to keep the bitterness out of your voice as you reply. 

"Soon you will have a shining diamond to light up your life." 

"Only thanks to you." With that he takes his leave. 

With burning eyes you add to your manuscript, foolishly writing a love story as your other novels have been completed. The candle dwindles as the hours pass before your hunched shoulders ache from the poor posture and lack of movement. You stretch, yawning as you do before you decide to head to bed. 

Expecting an empty foyer you are surprised to see your father looming in the hall, your mother standing solemn by his side. Her fingers clutch at her pearls as your eyes catch sight of bags at their feet. It is not unusual for them to leave in the middle of the night in order to keep the severity of your mother's health from the limelight. 

"Is there troubling news?" Anxiety twitches in your fingers as you clasp them together. Although your father's next words make your fingers want to wrap around his thick neck. 

"We have been invited for an extended stay at Duke Enji's manner in the countryside in hopes the two of you will court one another." 

"Father that is scandalous in itself." 

"Not if an engagement comes of it. Which one will, whether you fall for him or not, young lady. The matter has been decided among the men." His words sting like a slap in the face. Where most would cry you lash out. 

"Oh, I get it. Per usual the men can think with nothing more than what hangs between their legs, fearful that theirs is not long enough. So the men do all that they can to control everything but their own fragility." You step towards your father and he takes a step back, "Or is it more gruesome than that? One blackmailing the other? I just cannot imagine the ambitious Duke wanting a Baron's daughter for his son. Unless his family is so far in decline he must place the weight on his new heir and bride." 

His eyes widen unnaturally before he is frothing at the mouth. 

"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN. YOU WILL LEARN YOUR DAMN PLACE. " He slaps you, causing a hush to fall over your family. Your eyes are wide with animalistic rage as you lunge only for Hendrix and Hideki to hold you back. Both strong men begin dragging you away.

"Forgive her, Father." Hendrix starts before Hideki finishes, "You know how the heat gives women a touch of hysteria."

"We will help her pack her bags." 

All the while your mother looks at her husband in horror.  The sight falls beneath the stairs before you are shoved onto your bed. 

"Sister!" Hendrix roars while the youngest brother looks flustered, worried, "What were you thinking? You know how closed minded father is." 

Hideki cuts the eldest a look before he adds. 

"We are just worried. Normally you keep your wrath at bay." 

"As much as it may come as a surprise. I am only human." You rise from the bed asking Rose to prepare you a trunk. To pack anything, that you did not care as you sat at your desk furiously writing. Your bothers watch you with curious eyes as the tension seems to subside before they take their leave.

Minutes tick by before you're standing in the foyer. Father and mother were already sitting in the carriage that waited outside under the cover of misty rain. Hendrix and Hideki stand awkwardly by the round table in the middle of the foyer. Pretending to fuss over lavish flowers Lord Bakugou had sent that morning. A beautiful arrangement of roses and hydrangeas, two of your favorites, the Lord knew of them through observation alone. You wait patiently until one brother makes eye contact with you. Hideki breaks first, guilt shining in his eyes as it threatens to spill over. It is obvious he does not want you to leave the house, his normally crooked smile falters. You cup his cheek, smiling up at your sentimental younger brother, he acts as if you will never come back. 

Maybe there is some truth in that. 

"Cry not, for I have an iron will while father's is but made of glass." You swipe the tear, before pressing two letters into his chest, "Besides I have an important task for you." 

"Is it your scheming?" Hendrix chides and you laugh in answer before continuing. 

"These are for Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima, it is imperative you deliver these letters." The paper contained important instructions for not only a successful proposal but a marriage as well. 

You'd be damned if all three of you would turn out miserable. 

"I'll put them in the post." 

"No hand deliver them." Your eyes turn icy causing both brothers to go rigid, "And should I find out the seal has been broken before their arrival I shall take the family jewels from between your legs."

"Is that any way for a lady to talk, my dearest sister?" A jest in an attempt to lighten your souring mood. 

"Yes, it is."

"They will be in their hands by this evening. We are wagering on a fight tonight. Enjoy your stay." Hideki leans in close with a tease but his voice almost cracks, "Make sure the rock is huge." 

"Indeed." Hendrix agrees with an almost sad look in his eye, leaving you to wonder what it is that they know and you do not. 

Well, you do know why they have such long faces, you just do not care to admit. You wave to them and their eyes catch on the silvery reflection of diamonds on your wrist. 

The manner is stifling to say the least. The large, grand thing is as your trunk is set in your room that overlooks a small garden and the long sweeping hill that leads home. You pace your room before a knock comes at your door. 

Hoping to ignore it, having not the desire to speak to a soul, your feet quiet. You listen for them to retreat but instead a louder knock sounds out. Before his grating voice floats from beneath the door and through the keyhole. 

"I know you are in there, my lady." 

Ugh, that stupid doctor stood on the other side of the door. Still you ignore him. 

"It is rude to ignore your host."  It ignites something in your stomach before you rip the door open. Eyes ablaze as Todoroki stands perfectly still in his onyx black suit sans jacket. White sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms. 

"Surely, a good host would not force his guests to his estate?" 

"A good host would not mention how unwanted their guest is." His smile is sickeningly polite, eyes as cold as yours. It is hard to keep your composure as you breathe in deeply through your nose, eyes widening before you slam the door in his face. 

Only once you hear his footfalls retreat and the moon shines long on your floor boards do you finally make your way towards the door. A woman on a mission as you yank the door open, uncaring that you were not in much but a thick white nightgown that could be mistaken for a dress.  You rush for the stairs and through the door just off their back parlor, having memorized it from the long winded tour both your father and his Grace Enji insisted the small party take of the grounds. 

A cool summer breeze whips your hair this way and that as it dries the sweat that sits at your nape. Normally people would describe this feeling as miserable, that even the breeze had a bit of heat to it, but you. 

You lived for it. Twirling in the moonlight you allow yourself a moment for vulnerability you often cannot afford before you go deeper on the grounds, closer to the woods that lie just beyond the manor. 

Once you are at the edge you give the grand home a glare with your back towards the woods. The creatures of the night sing their symphonies well into the late hour. A twig snaps behind you cause you to turn about face, your eyes meet with lavender framed beneath light lashes. 

Ice runs through your blood as you faintly recall him speaking of these trees by his own countryside manor. He often went to these grounds to hunt. 

So why was he standing on the Todoroki grounds? 

"So it is true?" Monoma chokes out an ugly sound. It is between defeat and a snarl. He takes a step closer, "Whisked away in the night. Did Todoroki steal your maiden head from me?" 

Your eyes widen at his scandalous accusation and it is then you see how truly disheveled he is. Hair plastered to his forehead, his canary suit stained green from foliage. The fabric even darkening beneath his armpits and at his collar, it sends a sort of frantic look to his eye. He steps forward and for once in your life you yield, stepping back. 

"That is a damning accusation." You fight to keep the cracking rage from your voice, the small fear that blooms in your belly like poison nightshade. Swallowing thickly he steps forward. 

"He, he can't take what's mine. I- I was going to propose today. But that damn Bakugou is always lingering around like toxic gas. Poisoning your mind with his….ambitions." It is then you see red. 

How dare anyone thing you were so fucking fragile and innocent some young blonde could corrupt you. Your palm strikes his cheek with enough force that he is facing away from you. You strike again and then as you rear up your fist he pulls you to him. Pressing his whisky soaked lips to yours as he swallows you whole. Mouth extended over your lips, sloppily engulfing you as he makes sounds that make you want to retch. His tongue slides past your lips and you bite.

Not enough that he loses it, although you wish you could afford to do such a thing. But you still lived in a society where a man's word was far more valuable than that of a "whore." Shaking you pull back, so much rage that you do not see the flash of light until it is too late. 

"Fucking bitch!" He slashes at your nightgown, cutting the fabric away as you think you've doged, he goes to slash again, "God damn whore!" 

His voice echoes through the trees and that scares you more than the knife in his hand, his sloppy demnor creates an opening as you kick him so hard between his legs he falls to the ground, puking up his belly full of liquor onto the moss floor. 

Suddenly the summer night is too hot, the frogs and crickets too loud as an owl calls deep within the wood. Thunder roars overhead before the clouds become too heavy. Panic slicks your skin before the pounding rain as you turn to run, hopping you kicked hard enough to rupture something in this cowardly man. 

If you lived in any other world, you would have tried your best to seize that knife and plunge it into his chest. 

But you didn't, so you ran. Vision blurring as the pain finally catches up to you. Hand instinctively flying to your stomach only to come up wet. 

"It's the rain, it's just the rain." You gasp out rushing into the house and shutting the glass paned door as quickly and quietly as you can. Fumbling for a lock before you give up all together, arms outstretched in the dim room looking for a candle or a mirror. Shaking fingers find a match that you light using the wallpaper, uncaring of the risks as you frantically look for a stick of wax. Lighting the wick once you've found one and taking it to the mirror above a small runner table. You set the wax down, close to the glass, thunder shakes the windows and the house as you pull the fabric from your torso. It reveals an angry red slash that weeps crimson, a choked gasp leaves your lips as lightning flashes illuminating the whole room. Still you do not see the reflection of the man in the mirror. 

"What happened?" It sounds animalistic as it comes from the corner. Your whirl to face him, pulling the cloth back down to cover your decency. A lie falls from your lips as easy as breath. 

"Nothing." Your rasp, feigning embarrassment, "My-my courses have come early. Your Grace this is not something you should witness." 

"Do you take me for a fool?" He steps closer, eyes burning in the candle light, "I may not be an expert of female anatomy but I know the basics." 

You swallow thickly, trying to jest. 

"Then my Lord you are far more experienced than myself. I am bashful to be in the presence of a skilled womanizer. This truly is nothing." He closes the distance, wrapping his deadly hand around your small wrist. Pulling it away from your body.

"That laceration does not look like 'nothing'." He mocks, "I will not ask again." 

Silence engulfs you as the storm rages on, it competes with the roaring in your head. Your knees slowly buckle as Shoto keeps you up right. His winter's night by the hearth scent floods your senses. 

"I feel a bit faint." Your voice sounds so small, so far away that it stirs something in Todoroki. In the year that he has watched you, he has not once seen your falter or become meek. He makes way to scoop you into your arms and is a mixed of relieved and agitated as you swat him away. 

"I-I can walk." You straighten your back, smoothing the reddening fabric over your bodess and for once you're thankful the blasted nightgown is so thick. He gently guides you to your room. 

Once there he prepares a basin as you try to sit on the plush bed. 

"Aht!" He whispers harshly, "Change." 

You relax into the foot of the bed anyway, unable to hold yourself up right any longer. He sucks his teeth, bringing the supplies to the bedside table before searching through your trunk. 

"A Lady's things should not just be rummaged through." 

"Hmm is that so?" He finds another night gown before he hovers over you, face pinched as he asks, "Can you undress yourself, truthfully?"

Moments pass before you admit that you are not sure that you can with a shake of your head. Slowly he eases you out of the damp fabric, dabbing at your wet skin with a towel. He avoids looking at your breasts and as much as he would love to stare a weeping wound commands his attention. He places the gown just enough to hide your breasts before he lies you down on your back. 

"From beginning to end, tell me what happened." When you do not answer he forces your chin to face him, "Tell me, now." 

And your name slips off his lips like poisoned honey, a truth serum you swallow whole. You retell the quick exchange, including the damning kiss as you watch rage blister across Shoto's handsome features as he silently begins to work. 

"We must  prosecute him."

"We must not!" You exclaim as he dabs antiseptic at your wound. He gives your an exasperated

"What would have happened if he had nicked an internal organ?"

"I suppose I would be free of this wretched world." A nonchalant shrug as best as you can manage.a glare cuts your way as his roar turns soft.   

"Why would you say such a thing? Do you think no one would mourn the loss of you? Do you think he would not weep at your service?" Shoto touches the bracelet of dancing stars and you pull your wrist back. Tears burning your eyes, you do not allow them to fall. 

"He is not up for discussion!" It's a loud whisper before you grip Shoto's jaw with enough force it grinds, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Lord. You can take your leave as I do not need a soul."

He melts as he watches the pain flutter in your eyes, a long sigh escapes him as he melts into your touch. His fingers feathering over your forearm.

"Pride is a deadly sin. Allow me to help. I will be quick." Slowly you drop your arm away from him. He digs around in his bag before you change your mind. He disinfects the sutures before he sends the needle through tender flesh, your tears dry as you allow your mind to retreat. Shoto takes quick notice. 

"You do that a lot…" He comments softly, pulling the suture through your skin, you glance his way, "You seem to disassociate." 

"Well, feelings hurt so it is better to not feel at all." You grind your teeth as he pulls the widest part of your wound together. 

"Is that why you push him away so often?" He holds your gaze before returning to his work.

"Did I not tell you that he is not up for discussion. No matter, I do not have feelings for Lord Bakugou." He scoffs at your lie. 

"Ah so then it was not you who suggested the Princess in the form of flattery? Lord Bakugou is a smart man but you played into his blind spot, stroking his ego and enticing his ambition." Your gritted teeth say it all. 

"And how pray tell would you even guess at such grandor things when you are not in attendance at even half of these events?"

"I am privy to this knowledge because I too keep everyone and everything at arm's length. It is much easier to see the moves when one is far enough away from the board." He dabs at your abdomen, "And you my Lady are by far the best player." 

"Flattery does not go far with me." You sigh softly,  fingers idly playing with the wrinkles in the sheets,  "Father wants me to set a final round."

"Mine wishes for me to begin and end in the same turn." He slowly places your nightgown down, "Which is why we should make an effort to at least get to know one another. With your wound I suggest staying an extra week or two to ensure it closes properly. I can convince our Wardens that the extension is for an attempt to win your hand."

He leans back in his chair, sweat on his brow from fusing with your wound, from worry as it furrows. Your chest tightens and suddenly the urge to be in control sinks its teeth into your skin. Quickly you unclasp the birthday present Lord Katsuki had given you, setting it on the nightstand beside Shoto with dramatic flare. His eyes widen as he reads between the lines, the silent vow of "I will make an effort...for now". The promise seems to pierce his heart. 

"Fine. I enjoy picnics, I suggest we do that on the grounds so that we may be chaperoned from afar and yet have privacy. My expectation is unbashful honesty from both parties." You turn over to give him your back as you pull the fine blankets to your shoulders, "Furthermore you must come up with some sort  of endearment for me. Anyone who has ever tried to seriously court me has. I have come quite fond of them as titles bore me. Something lovely so give it thought."

Shoto is stunned into silence for a moment before he lets out a dark laugh. 

"I see, this is still your game"

"Precisely." You say, he stands, lingering in the doorway before shutting the heavy oak. 

It was difficult to sleep to say the least. Still you were grateful to have risen before Rose. Dressing yourself before she could see your wound. More grateful still when Rose set down some tea claiming Lord Shoto sent it.  

You downed the scalding liquid in three swallows, surprising Rose, before she passes you a folded note. 

Meet me in the back garden for lunch. 

-Shoto 

A muscle ticks in your jaw as pain blooms across your stomach as you stare at his lovely script. 

Shoto hates to admit that the first thing he looks for is that bracelet on your wrist, when he does not see it he lets out his held breath. Drinking in your deep, sapphire dress. It sparkles as if covered in stardust, his heart clenches. He looks towards your stomach, worry etched on his features. 

"How are your stitches? No corset right?" He asks, gently guiding you to the plush pillows on the ground. Maybe he should have asked the butler to bring out chairs instead. 

"I feel naked without it." You admit, he sees a bit of nervousness you have normally schooled away. 

"You look lovely." His eyes are gentle, lips formed in a soft, genuine smile. Your heart tried to skip a beat. It's the heat you tell yourself. 

"Flattery will not get you far remember?"

"I'm only being honest, my sweet petunia." You give him a puzzled look, was this going to be his nickname for you? You were not a delicate thing. 

"A flower?" You give him a look but his smile does not falter. 

"Ah would you rather I say my dew kissed rose? My begonia?"

You both laugh at his last suggestion. 

"My sunflower." Your heart stutters, you glance away for just a moment and he takes notice. 

"Ah so you approve," He collects a strand of your hair between his fingertips, "Sunflower?" 

Heat rushes your cheeks as you fight the smile on your lips. You lose as he kisses your hair. Maybe you could be a delicate thing. 

"Did you know sunflowers can remediate soil? It is why they are planted after tobacco is harvested in hopes to use the fields once more." He is quiet as he waits for your admission. 

"It is my favorite flower, it is in season now. Alas not one suitor has sent them. Roses and hydrangeas are my favorites too but nothing quite says summer like a sunflower." You sigh, looking over the manicured bushes and flowers in the garden. 

"Is that your favorite season?" He is perceptive, you take  a moment to breathe in the sweltering breeze with closed eyes. Humming your answer. 

"Indeed." You kick off your shoes and place your feet into the grass, leaning back to allow your face in the sun. Not many women would be so open to sitting on only a blanket and with no umbrella or covering. And yet here you were soaking up the sun like a lazy cat. Heat rushes Shoto's cheeks as he realizes just how perfect his name for you is. 

"Have you ever had intercourse with a woman?" You ask, eyes still closed as Shoto flushes further. His cheeks are as red as part of his hair. 

"Sunflower." He gasps but you giggle. 

"Unbashful honesty, remember?" He lets small silence stretch between the two of you before he answers. 

"I have. My brother convinced me it was a good idea." His eyes look sad, it makes your gut clench as you look away for a moment. Question burning on your tongue. 

"What if I were to say my maiden head was taken?" 

"Who am I to judge after I have slept with another. Sadly I know some are stolen." He answers without hesitation. 

"This is true. Mine is still intact, I am grateful Monoma had only stolen a kiss." You sigh.

"You'd never kissed anyone?" His tone is curious although his eyes are dark with anger for you. 

"I tried to be a proper lady. More so because I do not like to touch people or feel their skin. Touching them makes them real, you know? And when someone is real they can have power over your heart." Shoto mulls over your words and realizes how much he relates. He places his hands near your fingers but does not touch them. You notice the gesture and scoff without the pretension you skillfully lace his fingers with his. Delighted to see the burning blush on his cheeks. 

Maybe life with Shoto would not be half bad, if only he gave you more moments like this. 

Moments like this last over the two weeks that drag into three. Days are spent  beneath the summer sun with exchanged and often heated, intellectual debates. Both of you feeling mentally stimulated for the first time as each of you allowed a few walls to come down, pulling each other closer than arm's length. While a few hours of the night are spent beneath the moon. His gem stone eyes raking over your abdomen in worry but nothing more than his checking on your wound as he was ever the gentlemen.

On Monday of the second week Shoto has come fond of his summer sunflower, so much so he brings a large black box to the next picnic, tucked away in his pocket is a matching, much smaller box. He presents to you the medium sized box as you giggle in delight. 

"My Lord, my shining Shoto. What could this be?" Your cheeks hurt from the width of your smile as he opens the box for you to see. Your face flutters into shock before joy returns as you hold out your wrist. Shoto takes the delicate golden bracelet that has several round onyx surrounded by citrine in the shape of petals. Sunflowers dance on your wrist as you twist it this way and that, unable to school your features into your normal distaste for guadry gifts from suitors. But this gift was far from gaudy, only one man before Shoto had earned this reaction. You bring your parasol to hide your face and his from the prying eyes of the manor as you gently press your lips to Shoto's cheeks. 

"I love it." You admit. It gives him enough courage to commit to ask you on Friday, the bigger question. 

Having you walk for "therapy" through the grounds, pointing over your shoulder to point out phantom ducks on the lake as he nervously sinks to one knee. 

"Shoto, love I do not see-" You turn to face him and see his loving eyes, wavering smile and shaking fingers holding open the box that reveals a giant oval ruby surrounded by diamonds.  He clears his throat. 

"My sunflower," You fling your arms around him, making him fall off balance as you land on top of him. Peppering his face with uncharacteristic kisses as excitement, for once, rushes through your veins like a second blood. He laughs lifting you by your ribs, careful of your slowly closing wound as he spins you before setting you on your feet. He fumbles for the momentarily forgotten ring before he slips it onto your ring finger. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling warmly. It reaches his eyes in such a way your gut clenches. 

And for a moment you forgot you were ever anyone's starlight. 

For one returning to the manor seems almost dreadful and not because of waiting suitors but because you would be without your own. He insisted the two of you be seperate as your mother and his, prepared to arrange the wedding, as you demanded the ceremony to be small. Despite your desire for to keep the engagement quiet for just a week or so, your mother and father took it upon themselves to spread word back home before you could even arrive. 

You exit the carriage as the house looks quiet, earning a soft smile. Your ring catches your eye and you remind yourself that this truly was the best possible outcome. 

The foyer is covered in flowers, from congratulations to a giant trove of sunflowers on the center table. 

You smile at the flowers Shoto must have sent this morning, they sit in a glass globe of a vase, their usually tall stems cut short. Their flower heads are large and vibrant even in the ambient candle light. You finger a petal as you reminisce over the past few weeks, your stomach hardly protesting as you stand on tip toe to look at them all. Relishing the moment of silence before you realize you are most likely home alone. Your brothers lost in some fighting match while your parents took their leave from the Todoroki manor to busy themselves with venues. You figured a change of clothes would do you nicely before you settled down over your much neglected work. 

A black nightgown and almost sheer robe clung to your frame as you stepped down the grand staircase, smiling once more at the flowers before slipping into your parlor. Lighting only one other candle by the door before taking yours to your desk. With deft hands you pull out one of your manuscripts and tap along the top with a manicured nail. A sigh leaves your lips, you finger with your bracelet, with the ring on your finger before a fresh page is found on your desk. You write furiously. 

About something as trivial as love. 

Still the quil seems to move on its own as if enchanted as words dot the parchment in ink. Suddenly your work is disturbed by someone entering your parlor. You assume it is a brother who has come home, glancing up you see locks of ash blonde causing you to grip at your robe to close it tighter. The moment you realize it is just Bakugou your grip on the fabric loosens.

"I wasn't expecting you at this hour." Fear of needing a chaperone barely crosses your mind since it was Lord Bakugou who was your company. You relax into your seat as he crosses the room to sit in his normal seat, on the corner of the couch, closest to you. His posture is poor as he leans his forearms on thick thighs, garnet eyes cast downward, he grips at his own hands as his knuckles turn white. You wonder if he did not heed your letter. 

"How did the proposal go with Princess Amelia?" Your voice sounds out over the silence of the room, still he remains quiet. It is unnerving how solemn and silent the normally wolfish man is. Something pulls at the strings of your heart. His eyes seem misty. He keeps them to the ground or so you think, as they rake over the ring on your finger, on the bracelet on your wrist. The onyx and citrine dance in the low light of your burning candle. Bakugou feels a sheen of sweat coat his hands, bile rising in his throat that he has to swallow down. 

You think the worst, you think the Princess rejected him but that didn't make sense either. She was so obviously in love with the ambitious man, you heard while away that she even turned down a dance with a forgein prince. 

"What's wrong, Katsuki?" The way your voice forms around his name, the way your eyes look with unbiased worry causes Katsuki's limbs to act on their own. In one swift motion he cups your face in his broad hands, bringing his lips to yours so softly. Once the plush of your lips touch his he cannot stop as his hunger for you comes to the forefront. He kisses you with a fervor unmatched as his lips move yours, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Tilting your head so he may deepen the kiss, tongue sliding over yours as the world falls from beneath your feet.  

But as quickly as it fell it returns, pushing him away while turning to face away from him. You keep your head held high as he pants on the couch beside you. He grabs your thigh, desperate for touch, for anything but rejection. 

"Starlight." His voice is deep, rough from what might be disuse as it cracks on the second syllable. A question runs rampid in your mind.  How long had he felt like this? 

"Please, my starlight." He squeezes your smooth thigh and you look towards him. Watch his force contort with pain, as if you held his beating heart in his hands and crushed it.  

Really it is what he had done to you, as you look down at him with hot tears. 

He is the first and only soul to see you cry in decades. It seemingly tears him about but he brought this among himself. 

The kiss is answer enough as to why he is here. 

It should not be this tempting to throw it all away. 

"Get. Out." You seethe, fat droplets catching on your sheer robe, falling down your cheeks as if you were an actress going through a tragic scene. He does not move, does not breathe as he hopes your temper will cool. 

Instead it heats. 

"Get out, Get OUT. GET OUT GET OUT!!" More composure lost with each increase of volume before you completely lose it, "FUCKING GET OUT!" 

He hardly moves and the ruckus calls alarm for your brothers who were home, who let Bakugou in at such a late hour. They come from the office across the hall in hurried steps, expecting to see an assailant, hoping that Bakugou could fight them off. 

They silently determine what they see is far worse. Bakugou gripping at your thighs with this pleading look while your face is now firmly buried in your hands. A sob racks through your body setting your brothers ablaze. 

Hendrix speaks first. 

"What did you do?!" His eyes are flaming as he sets them on Bakugou, who ignores the two men. Hideki begins to close the distance and his eldest brother follows suit. 

"What have you done to make my lovely sister cry?" Hideki's voice is full of hurt, disappointment and when they receive no answer they decide it is time to remove your true assailant. 

Both grab at Bakugou, pulling him away from the couch as you wet your palms with years worth of tears. 

Everything in your life, no matter how hard you tried to conduct it, was truly wrong wasn't it? 

The fresh swirling ink on the pages answered you enough, the love story you did not know you needed with a protagonist with soft ash blonde hair. 

"Please. Do not make me BEG!" He yells as your brothers' sad attempt at forcing him from the room topples furniture and the like. 

Still you weep your self pity away. 

His next words are deafening  as your heart finally cleaves apart, the pieces falling to the floor before shattering like glass at your feet. He brandishes the black velvet box with the black diamond ring tucked inside as you finally look up to him. 

"IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, STARLIGHT!"

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha historical au #bnha imagine #bnha x reader

[luxwritesfanfic]

Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the  kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight. 

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes #sherlock ficlet #sherlock fluff #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock has feelings #sherlock headcanon #luxwrites #sherlock holmes fandom #sherlock holmes fic #benedict cumberbatch x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

[engie-ivy]

Remus is the uptight, swotty Prefect who's always getting the popular and beloved troublemakers Black and Potter in detention. Remus doesn't care what people say of him, and he absolutely doesn't care about Black's blinding smile.

A Book By Its Cover

Remus pulls his jumper closer around himself against the draught in the large, empty halls. The corridor is dimly lit and he hears nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Everything is quiet. Too quite.

A loud clang suddenly sounds from behind one of the tapestries. Remus almost smiles to himself. Bingo. In a swift motion, he pulls away the tapestry.

Startled, Black whirls around. He’s surrounded by what appear to be paint cans and rope. His shock only last a moment, though.

“Lupin!” He exclaims, a beaming smile appearing on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. He makes an effort to keep a firm expression on his face, to show he’s not affected by Black’s notorious, blinding smile, like everyone else is. “Only pleasant if you like detention. And as for a surprise, I am a Prefect. I am supposed to be here making my rounds. So what are you doing here?”

“Preparing a prank,” Black says simply.

Remus doesn’t know whether he should be insulted Black doesn’t seem to take his authority very seriously, or glad that he doesn’t insult his intelligence by coming up with an excuse.

“Right,” Remus says, before taking out his notebook and pen. “Out of bed after curfew and engaging in illegal activity,” he scribbles down. “And where’s Potter?”

“Aw, am I not enough for you, Lupin?” Black pouts.

“I figured you could use some company in detention,” Remus replies smoothly.

Black clicks his tongue. “So thoughtful.”

“If you’re here setting up some prank, then it’s a given Potter is setting up that prank somewhere else in the school as well. So, where is he?”

Black shakes his head. “For you’re own good, Lupin, you don’t wanna put James in detention right now. People won’t be too pleased with you if the school’s football star misses the upcoming match against Slytherin thanks to you.”

“So thoughtful,” Remus repeats Black’s words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But please, don’t concern yourself over me. I’ve never cared what others think of me, and I don’t plan on starting now. And you basically just admitted Potter is currently doing something that would warrant me giving him detention, so you might as well tell me where he is.”

Black sighs. “This is why people call you uptight.”

Remus’ expression hardens. “If people care so much, they should be mad at Potter for risking the football match in the first place by playing some stupid prank.”

Black gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. “Stupid? Our pranks are not stupid! They’re works of art! Jumping out of a cake on miss McGonagall’s birthday? Hilarious! Making a zip line to go from one floor to the other? Brilliant! Filling the gym with stray cats, many of whom were eventually adopted? Genius! People love our pranks. They make people laugh and bring some excitement in their lives. Much needed excitement, because let’s face it, school is boring. Sitting there, listening to old people tell you things you already know.”

“For you maybe,” Remus mutters.

Black scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of the smartest people in our class, Lupin.”

Remus just glares harder at Black, to show that no, he doesn’t care that Sirius Black, whom people are always falling over themselves for to get even a bit of his attention, has apparently noticed Remus’ academic achievements. No, he doesn’t care at all.

“Even the teachers love our pranks,” Black continues. “They put some life into this place!”

“We’ll see what miss McGonagall has to say about it when I report you tomorrow,” Remus says calmly. “I’ll go finish my rounds, and when I get back, you better have cleaned up this mess.”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

“Wha...” Remus turns back, and his traitorous stomach flutters at how close Black is suddenly standing.

“Join us for one prank,” Black says.

Remus blinks at him. “Why in earth would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun! And honestly, Lupin, to me you always look like you can use a bit of fun.”

That catches Remus off guard. It’s true. Between struggling to get top marks, doing everything he can for extra credit, making sure he has a spotless record, excelling at his Prefect duties, and worrying about his sick mother, lately he often feels like just throwing his hands in the air and say ‘screw it all!’, and just do something crazy, something dumb or irresponsible. But he definitely never wanted for Black to notice that.

“Come on, Lupin,” Black says, as Remus stays silent. “Be part of the fun for once, instead of putting a damper on it.”

“Your childish pranks aren’t my idea of fun,” Remus bites back, feeling himself getting defensive.

Black just grins. “You won’t know that unless you join us for just one prank!”

“Why would you even want me to join you?” Many people would be lining up to be a part of one of Black and Potter’s infamous pranks. It’s beyond Remus why Black would ask that one stuffy guy who puts them in detention almost every week.

“Because I like you,” Black shrugs. “I like how hard you work for everything and how you don’t care what anyone thinks of you. And I think you secretly have a talent for it,” he adds with a wink, that absolutely does not make Remus’ knees go weak. “I bet you have a wicked side to you underneath all that swotty stuff.”

“But I’m a Prefect!” Remus argues. “I’m supposed to discipline rule-breakers, not break them myself!”

Black rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t take that job so serious.”

This rubs Remus the wrong way. “Not everyone can afford to treat everything in life as a joke,” he says coolly.

Black folds his arms over his chest and stares. “A fancy title and a badge and suddenly you’re better than us?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Black huffs. “Then why is that bogus job so important to you?”

“Because some of us can’t afford to have even one note on their record if they ever want to get anywhere in life!” Remus snaps. “Because some of us need perfect scores and every bit of extra credit they can get if they want universities not to immediately bin their applications! Because some of us don’t have a last name they can flaunt, a daddy who can make a phone call, a mommy who can throw some money around, and suddenly you’re top of the list! Because some of us can’t just look at their rich parents and rely on them to always give them everything they want!”

The change in Black is instant. He takes a step back, and instead of his usual easy smile and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, his face becomes an ice-cold mask. “Fuck you, Lupin,” he hisses. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He pushes past Remus as he storms off, leaving him behind feeling very confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, the system is unfair and Black is privileged, but Remus supposes that isn’t really Black’s fault. He knows Black isn’t actually a bad person. His heart is in the right place, and he’s usually kind, only ever mean to people who, quite frankly, deserve it.

Remus just wishes Black would stop with those bloody pranks.

Remus just wishes Black would continue with those bloody pranks.

Or do anything really that makes him seem more like his old self. Remus never thought he’d miss that loud, barking laugh, that infuriating smirk, those lame puns so much.

Ever since everyone returned from Christmas break, Black has completely withdrawn. He hardly talks to anyone, he just sits silently, his eyes staring off in the distance and his expression blank. Potter is always by his side, softly talking to him or just throwing him worried glances.

Since then, it has been the talk of the school, and even in the papers and on the news: Sirius Black has been removed from his parents’ custody. It was a messy affair, the police has even been involved. Black’s father was arrested on grounds of child abuse. Apparently, Orion Black, the noble and well-respected patriarch of the prestigious Black family, has a habit of beating his son. It must’ve been going on for a while, but over the break it escalated. People just can’t get over how Sirius Black’s life wasn’t as perfect as it always seemed to be.

Remus feels bad for Black, and especially feels like an idiot, having said the things he said. He knows he owes Black an apology. It has been a couple of weeks since the break ended, and the apology is beginning to be long overdue. Though he also knows that Black has probably not been waiting for an apology from the uptight twat that always gets him detention.

Maybe it’s more to ease his own consciousness that he hesitantly approaches the table where Black is sitting. Potter glares at him the moment he sees him, and half gets out of his seat, probably to tell him to piss off, and rightfully so. However, after a quick glance at Black’s face, who’s looking up at Remus, he sits back down, as if he sees something on his friend’s face that makes him chance his mind.

“Bla- Sirius,” Remus says, realising a tad late that Sirius might nor want to be reminded of his family name right now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I said some shitty things to you, and I shouldn’t have. You were right, I didn’t know anything about you.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius says softly. “You had good reason to be angry, it’s a rather fucked up system. And you didn’t know. Didn’t know that I would’ve gladly given up all that privilege to just have parents who... who love me...”

Sirius’ voice falters and he trails off. Potter is staring at him wide-eyed, and also Remus is surprised. He knows Sirius hasn’t talked about it to anyone, and he feels almost guilty he’s saying it to him of all people. He’s also surprised at the overwhelming urge he has to pull Sirius into a hug, hold him and tell him they never deserved him anyway. He has to leave before he does anything stupid.

“I should go,” Remus says quickly. “If there’s ever anything I can do...”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

Remus turns back to look at him.

“Join us for one prank.”

“Why would you want me to join you?” Remus asks, much like the first time.

“Because I like you,” Sirius replies, much like the first time, only where he had then sounded nonchalant and slightly amused, he now sounds pleading and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Remus says hoarsely, because his Prefect duties suddenly don’t seem so important compared to helping Sirius come back to his old self. “Yeah, I’ll join you for one prank.”

And then the most amazing thing happens: for the first time in weeks, Sirius Black smiles. It’s only a small smile, but the room already seems a bit brighter. In a moment of vivid clarity, Remus knows that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that boy smile.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #boarding school au #prefect remus lupin

[yjwhatif]

With the semi/cryptic confirmation of Ed and Barts relationship in the series I have a question:

Do you think everyone knows about them (in world) or do you think they’re keeping it secret from some?

It’s just a thought that’s been in my head recently. It is most likely fuelled by the whole drama of G&B not being able to depict a “specific character” (it’s definitely Bart) as gay. They’ve had to hide the relationship from their audience - because of ridiculous reasons - but there are still moments that bring up the question - Are they? Before the reveals from AskGreg, I kinda thought- well they are clearly not together yet, but perhaps they both have feelings for one another and are just waiting for the other to make the next move because they’re nervous idiots who don’t want to have read the situation wrong — all while their friends are like - seriously guys? just get together already. Kinda like they did in s1 with Wally and Artemis - and I guess early Supermartian as well - which I would have been okay with... though with the likelihood of there being at least another two year time skip you’d probably have missed the getting together moment - which would kinda suck. Anyway. With the information about the chances being they were supposed to clearly be in a relationship throughout S3 — which makes the whole structuring of ILLUSIONS just make sense — it’s got me viewing their moments with a whole new energy. Also, I saw this post by Greg —

And let me just clarify, I have no idea if this is actually referencing the Ed and Bart stuff, it might not be (probably isn't). This is purely me speculating.

My reading of this is they got told they couldn’t depict Bart as gay pretty late on and that specifically affected ILLUSIONS where they likely intended to confirm the relationship with that first shot - the kiss on the cheek moment. Even now that moment is just odd - because it’s there but it’s not - because technically there is no actual kiss… which I think is absolutely the point. It plants the seed without actually breaking any rules - all by keeping the momentum but removing the specific kiss frame. It’s the only moment that I feel is explicit in saying they are in a relationship - everything else you can just read into and imply there’s something - but they technically don’t confirm anything.

The whole thing is actually quite interesting - despite the reasoning for it being totally ridiculous. By keeping/showing what they did... People notice it. People talk about it. People reflect on it. More people talk about it. People writing. Make. Create. Discuss it. An entire audience is formed who want and support it. It’s a whole thing now because people noticed it and generated a positive response to it - and that was before all the AskGreg information. The whole reason YJ got a season 3 is because the fans fought to get it back. Enough people talked about it - and kept talking about it - to convince TPTB that the show should come back. Greg and Brandon know this. They know the power the fans have and maybe they hoped that power would help them again in freeing Bart from these ridiculous restrictions. #letbartoutofthecloset

Obviously, we can't know until S4 is released whether G&B got the permission to confirm Bart's sexuality the way they envisioned - but maybe the responses that came during the release of 3b were enough to convince TPTB that they were fighting a losing battle. But who knows, people in power can be very stubborn at times, so we will just have to see what we get. Fingers crossed they eased up though - and not just because of the Ed/Bart relationship (which I am obviously a fan of -- it's fine if not everyone is) - but because these restrictions on LGBTQ+ content shouldn't be a thing and need to stop -- there is just no validity in them.

Anyhow. despite their not being allowed to officially confirm the relationship, Greg's comment about Ed's having a boyfriend they can't name basically confirms the fact without technically breaking any rules again. Masterfully done Wiesman. With this, it implies the pair are in fact dating during S3 which brings us back to the original question... but who knows??

With the comments of Virgil during ILLUSIONS, it's easy to assume their friends do in fact know. They also seem to have no problem being close and interacting with one another whilst in the presence of others -- that is, except for one moment...

Ever since the first time I saw this episode (ELDER WISDOM) I have always found this moment strange - because Ed seems to get kinda awkward when Barry comes to check on Bart. (Or that's how I see it at least.) He realises Flash is standing there and immediately pulls his head down averting his gaze -- almost like he doesn't want to be seen by the elder. But why? Does Barry not know about the pair -- or maybe he doesn't know about Bart and Ed thinks their current closeness is too revealing -- who's to say Bart's even fully out to the world yet -- who's to say either of them are? We certainly don't since we weren't allowed to be shown. We can't know until we know - so until then we can play the speculation game while we wait.

Bart is certainly a bit of a secret keeper when it comes to being himself. I'm still convinced the Bart we see onscreen is merely his interpretation of what he thinks people expect from a speedster in this time. We saw 'real' Bart, he was snarky and cynical and nothing like the Bart we've had for the past two seasons. He said it himself - he's playing a character - and I don't think he knows how to break out of it - not while the possibility exists that it might hurt those he's grown to care about. Bart wants to be seen a certain way to avoid acknowledging the truth of the past - if people see him as happy and smiley, then no one will question him on things he doesn't want to talk about. The problem with that is you can't hide yourself forever - cracks begin to form and eventually, the truth comes out whether you want it to or not. So who knows how comfortable Bart is revealing any of his true self to those he cares about. Maybe his relationship with Ed will be the thing that finally helps him find comfort in being himself, whilst also trusting others to still accept him as himself... and maybe getting him that bit of therapy he really needs.

This brings us to Eduardo… First, can I just say it made me so happy to see Greg’s confirmation of Ed being gay - though it is slightly annoying that he was robbed of his explicit onscreen reveal in S3 thanks to the drama with Bart. His whole relationship to his powers in S2 to S3 fits the representation of coming to terms with your sexuality/identity from a very negative point of view. Feeling like it’s something that needs fixing or needs to be “cured” - to then finding the light and freedom in accepting yourself for you. His growth between seasons is brilliant. He understands the hate and insecurity the teens are feeling because he felt it himself. He does all he can to help them because he never felt he got that help when he needed it - and no one deserves to feel worse for being who they are. Obviously, the things he talks about are framed in the context of dealing with/accepting the meta-gene - yet there are certain moments where it seems he’s saying more than that…

All of which got me wondering - why did Ed originally runaway? It certainly wasn’t because of the meta-abilities he did not yet have. All he’s ever said on the subject was he thought he wanted to be with his father - the man it seems he barely had a relationship with. No, I think Ed has been running from himself for a long time and his dad just happened to be an actual direction for him to aim for. The way he speaks about his wanting to be “cured” and “praying to get rid of his powers” suggests an upbringing around religion and traditional ideas of there being a ‘normal/proper’ way to be — while anything that doesn’t fit that way is treated as other or something that needs to be changed or 'fixed'. Maybe he ran to avoid being found out and run the risk of being ostracised by those he loved. Or maybe he was found out and leaving wasn’t entirely his choice*. If this was the case, I can certainly imagine him not wanting to come out to his dad for fear of his reaction and completely losing all chance of that father-son relationship they’re both trying so hard to keep. It can seem easier to live in secret than risk the reality of loss. So while the meta-gene likely wasn’t the main thing he was angry about in S2, it was able to become a physical thing he could blame and focus his anger on - without having to think about where his issues truly lied… Though with a bit of time it also became the thing he was comfortable conveying his feelings through...

“I’ve learned to accept, even love my meta-abilities”

I love this line so much and it’s all because of the delivery by Freddy Rodrigues. There is the slightest hint of a pause before he says “meta-abilities”, which gives the impression he was about to say something else before then remembering himself and who he was talking to. Then there’s the small inflecion he put on “love”, which makes it sound like it’s the first time he’s heard himself say the words out loud. I don’t hear him talking about the gene - I hear him talking about finally accepting himself - all of himself - for the first time in maybe ever and finally feeling happy because of it. I hear growth... From being the angry 14-year-old skater who just wanted to run away and escape any way he could. To the 16-year-old councillor/Outsider jumping straight into the danger to protect and inspire those who need it. Both he and Bart are such strong characters with so much more to be seen - especially when it comes to the insecurities which lie behind their masks. They both compliment each other pretty perfectly - both powers-wise and personality-wise - meaning while they try to hide themself from others, I don't think it'll take long for them to realise they can't hide from each other.

Anywho, that’s all the speculatary nonsense I’ve got for today. This turned into such a patchwork of vaguely linkable thoughts I’ve had which barely relate to the one I started with - but that is usually how it goes. Take it as you will…

Also, completely unrelated to YJ, but Bi Tim Drake now exists in dc canon which is really cool - seeing all of the joy it’s sparked has really given me something to smile about this week… There is hope after all. 🌈

— LB ⚡️☀️

* OK so here’s a little random snapshot into the chaos of my mind— as I was writing the Ed stuff I had a scene pop into my head of Ed finally -for whatever reason- having to tell his dad that he didn’t leave his abuelo’s home - he got kicked out. His dads confused about this and asks Why? What did you do? And Ed’s like Nothing… I didn’t do anything wrong… he just… found out something. So Seniors like Found out what Eduardo? And Ed’s getting really nervous now because he doesn’t want to say it - That I, um… I’m… Senior step a fraction closer as he picks up on Ed’s anxiety but remains an appropriate distance - Son? Then after a tensening silence he finally says it - sounding the most vulnerable he has ever been - I’m gay… The silence is there again, heavy and unnerving, neither saying a word. Ed can’t move as he’s lock in his elders unreadable glare. Expecting the worse his head drops to take in the floor - anything that isn’t the disappointment ahead - he feels the urge to disappear burning up inside him - consuming him. Then just as he’s about to escape he’s suddenly grounded by a steadying hand rooting itself on his shoulder. Tentatively he lifts his gaze to witness his father, there, with nothing but love and support in his eyes - Mijo. The clamping in his chest dissipates as all the tension escapes at once, along with the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Ed embraces his dad and the elder embraces his son. Together. A family.

Anyway. That’s probably a load of rubbish but hey my minds full of it… but basically I really want to see a tender moment between Ed and his dad. For whatever reason. Something where Ed’s in a vulnerable state and in need of some emotional support from his father - and without hesitation his father steps up - because that’s what we haven’t seen from them yet. It would perfectly portray the strength of their relationship as father and son - despite their previous struggles - and prove that Senior is willing to support his son no matter the situation as the father - not just the scientist. Its the final step in their healing journey and I wanna see it so bad!!

#letbartoutofthecloset #long post #my totally random thoughts #bartwatch #eduardo dorado jr #bart allen #young justice #yj #yj outsiders #young justice outsiders #yj season 3 #dc #bartuardo #zetaflash #el dorado #elder wisdom #yj3 #illusion of control #lgbt representation #lgbtq+ #young justice invasion #yj season 2 #relationships #my random ideas #analysis #speculation #identity #sexuality #self acceptance #growth

[yostresswritinggirl]

Researching...

ZETA

You need to see this first then this

The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?”

Pairing -> Albedo x Female Reader

Word Count -> 2944

Themes -> Smut, PwP, PwF, Woohoo, the "thing", the "do"

Series -> #Bonafide Specials (100 followers event)

Warnings -> NSFW CONTENT, DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE UNDERAGED! (this is awkward because you two have no experience, jsyk)

(Z,E)-9,12-tetradecadienyl acetate (TDA, also known as ZETA) are usually emitted by females to attract males for mating. Sex pheromones are defined as odors, produced by either males or females that stimulate one or more behavioral reactions in the opposite sex, bringing the males and females together for the purpose of mating.

The foldered papers at the mahogany desk met with a soft plop at its weight, and you noticed the Alchemist suddenly straighten his back from his spaced out daze on the noise, whipping his head towards where you stand. Albedo's teal eyes were wide from the sudden intrusion, but his eyelids drooped over them once again upon the realization that it was just you who entered as it loses its light once more. This worried you.

The Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius has been in a dilemma recently. And all of Mond knows of this.

Albedo naturally holds himself in a regal and composed aura that draws people to him in admiration and trance. But this Albedo lacks such gait, with shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed, steps heavy and head hanging low.

He has hit a wall in his never-ending research. And the effect was obvious on him.

Days he'd be cooped up in his laboratory staring at nothing, glaring at his setup. Days he'd be gone beyond the walls with his easel and sketchbook, only to return with unfinished artworks meant to be forgotten. Sucrose had tried placing experiments that are easy to handle and give him at least a sense of self-confidence for solving, but even that cannot pull his mind away from his obstacle.

"You know," leaning on the table with arms crossed, you watched the Kreideprinz drag his foot to where you were, aiming to check on the folder that you just submitted, "Some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever." Such words smoothly flowed out of your mouth despite the masked embarrassment you expertly hid through a haughty smirk.

That someone was Kaeya, and that Kaeya threw out that same comment next to you when you two saw Albedo walk through the headquarter's halls like a zombie a few days ago.

The sudden pound of fists on the table at either side of you startled you, expertly caging you in as you looked up. Albedo loomed over you with eyes brightly catching the sun, giving it the luminosity that carried the same curious look he had when faced with the unknown. "Intercourse? If it's true, then please," oh no, "I wish to have intercourse with you."

Excuse me? "Wha-" suddenly, you were hyper-aware of just how close you are to one another. You slightly hiked yourself up against the table, as to preserve what little distance you have. "Wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!”

And without skipping a beat, he mused, "Convenient, I love you, anything else?" That familiar smirk displayed on his face.

Contrary to his face tho, you greatly contest to Diluc's hair. Really a normal reaction- to this guy suddenly confessing! Your head is already whirling around in confusion and your eyes couldn't set itself straight at him, still mindful of the distance of which reminded you why you were in this predicament in the first place.

Albedo attentively watched your eyes stray to the side as he stands there in silence, seeing it land at the entrance to his laboratory. Ah of course, he thought he'd made a discovery, as he leans away from you to make his way towards the door.

And shut it with a click.

"Wait, wait, why did you lock the door?!" You finally mustered up the courage to speak (breaking away from the shock of his confession) as he finds himself where he stood over you, eyes filled with confusion.

"You were quiet after my confession. I know such moments of romance are intimate and with your eyes, I only wanted to give us privacy," his brows furrowed with confusion before his shoulders dropped, a sharp sigh escaping. "Normally people would express their reciprocation by now," he breathed as he starts pulling back and away, "but voicing your rejection would have been appre-"

Quickly with a yelp, you reached out for his departing form, pulling him back by the grip on his shirt. Albedo's eyes only widened a little as he was quick to grip the table's edge to stabilize himself, one arm wrapped around your waist to ground you. "No! I do- do love you too!" You finally squeezed out the embarrassing confession, "You were just so sudden, it surprised me so much!"

And suddenly he was laughing openly, full of relief and humor, as his shoulders slackened at the validation. The heavy weight on his shoulders eased as if a physical matter left it, the bout of removed tension making him slump on you.

You cradled the tired Albedo in your arms as you let him place his chin on your shoulder. This man is your lover now, you thought as the fact finally dawned on you. The brilliant and most loved in Mond now tied down to you.

Basking in the presence of a person now his, Albedo found himself breathing in. There was a scent to you that always soothes him which now feels emphasized at the closeness. His pupils dilated as his face buries itself closer to the junction where your neck and shoulder meets.

Ah, what was this? Was this the pheromones you once talked about in your research on zoology that attracts those to them? He mused in his mind as those teal eyed fluttered shut, nose brushing at your neck for another whiff.

While Albedo indulged himself with the natural scent of you, you stood there with weak legs, trembling and red from the notions. Oh gods, you whimpered at the feeling of his lips brushing at your skin, you're whipped for this man.

"I'm waiting," you had to hold the shiver when his words vibrated against your neck, "for your answer on my offer, I think it would be good to try." Ah the 'intercourse'. You placed your hands flat on his back as he leans away to stare in attention, and then you finally explained to him what you meant, what you'd do, and what it entails to.

Albedo nods in understanding at your every clause and explanation. And his bright mind understood far too easily how it would help. "We are lovers now," his eyes twinkled at the cute scrunch of your nose upon the embarrassment of the fact, "sooner or later we'd end up doing it anyways. When shouldn't be a matter."

Albedo always make a good point.

With your consent, Albedo slowly lays you on the surface of the table as his other hand makes quick work to swipe away the items that would be in the way, thankfully the carpeted floor prevented anything from breaking. His lips found yours almost naturally as you urged him to take off his coat and you worked on your own, the thoughts spiraling in your head for every clothing that is shed:

Albedo has little to none idea on how sex works between humans, and you had your base knowledge from the things you learned from academics; in short, you're both inexperienced and you are his anchor.

How funny how the master role quickly switched, you thought with an inward laugh before it died in your throat at the sight— he stands there with his undershirt unbuttoned, belt and shorts caught by his knee, and his apparent bulge outlined by his boxers. Your thighs instinctively closed, you don't know what's considered average in size for such things, but you know for a fact there's gonna be some difficulty.

"Is something wrong?" His raw and calloused hands (gloves long gone) softly landed at your squirming thighs, the contact sending a shiver all over. "Am I doing something wrong?"

No, you breathed as you urged him to step closer and settle between your legs at the edge of the table, his form forcing you to spread your limbs apart.

The intoxicating scent that Albedo indulged in earlier was stronger now, drowning him and clouding his thoughts. The waft plunged through his senses so forcefully that he stumbled a bit on you, hips hitting as he grips your sides to keep him steady.

Next came the warmth that touched his sensitive length as it laid between you, the contact had forced out a cute squeak from you and an airy groan from him. His hips buckled to catch the sensation as he finds himself rutting between your folds with ragged breathing.

So good, it felt so good. Albedo finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open from what he now identified to be pleasure, and as he looks up to check on you, you were struggling just the same. Your chest rises and falls in quick successions as you covered your eyes with an arm, whimpers coming out of your slightly parted lips.

Fuck. If only he wasn't so engrossed, he wanted to capture this image through painting. "Am I-," he cleared his throat of the hoarse voice, "Am I hurting you?"

You gasped at the cold and wet feeling swipe from your chin to the corner of your lips, licking the trail of drool you didn't even notice when you opened your eyes to see Albedo's up close. With a shake of your head, you gripped the ponytail of his braid to pull his head for a sudden kiss.

Staggering over your form as your legs hiked up to hook around his waist, you guided the tip of his length to your entrance as he ravaged your mouth without restraint. Lips bruising each other, tongue tracing the underside of yours gingerly before it licks at the roof of your mouth— all the sensations had fogged up your consciousness so badly that you didn't feel an ounce of pain when he finally entered into you, guided by a shy gentleness to his ministrations.

It is only when his tip finally touched the opening of your cervix did you whimper; the way you're being stretched and the fullness of his length in you making you writhe under and around him, the friction only making rousing him more.

Albedo produced a low growl against your lips as he bit down on the bottom one, his trimmed nails digging to your soft-skinned hips as he pins it down. "Stop- nghh- stop moving around so much," a sudden warmth pooled into your stomach as you tightened around him.

Mistake number one: You didn't expect for his gentleness to be gone.

Spurred on by your tightening grip and the pleasure shooting up him everytime his tip came in contact with your edge, Albedo went into a relentless pace, pounding straight into you to hit that spot. Your pants turned into breathless chokes everytime he comes in contact, forcing your raw moans out of you. There's a dull pain by your entrance everytime he grinds against your walls, and he whimpers your name in pure ecstacy every stroke.

Your back arcs as he smacks into you, pulling back halfway through before burying deep into your hole once again. His brutal pace gets sloppy at times, before his strength comes back again to pull you closer. Halfway through Albedo produces a feral growl as he grips one of your legs behind the knee, pushing it closer to your body and slightly angled to the side.

And the moment he thrusts in with the new position, you cried out his name. The tip of his length reached far deeper with this new angle, and had plunged the top right into your cervix— your hips trembled as Albedo's whole body shivers at the new sensation, fingernails digging into your thigh as his other hand intertwines with yours, pinning it down on the table as leverage.

"Ahn," he whispered your name tiredly with tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, for the first time staring at your eyes after he had started, "How are you? Is it okay? Is it..."

Good, you mumbled with a tired smile at his consideration, bumping your hips to emphasize on it- which drew a sharp gasp from the both of you, he was already in so deep, your hips bruised and touching.

He rolled his hips to test out, his thickness rubbing at the walls as he stirs your insides. The sweet moan you produced spurred him on, and he was once again staggering into you, his hips slightly elevated in an angle meant to pierce through you.

The sound of flesh smacking against each other overpowers even your loudest moan as Albedo pleasured himself inside you desperately, the smell of sex filling your sense of smell. He chases the way your hole drips and wafts with the scent, drawing in a huge breathe whenever your mixed cum spills past his tightly locked dick in you.

And soon his pace became more desperate and short, as he makes quick work at hitting you in your most sensitive part to barely give you time to gasp for air. Your walls clenched down on him so tightly as you came, a cry of his name passing your lips as your back arched—

the pressure made him buckle and he thrusts in deep one last time, tip breaking past your cervix, as his climax enters you in thick strings of warmth.

That was mistake number two: you didn't bring protection with you.

But at that moment you couldn't care less (your cycle just ended anyways, you should be fine), watching him whimper your name in full pleasure as his teeth grinds against each other, his forehead and eyebrows knit and furrow as he releases before it relaxes after he is done.

And then he falls face first to your chest, the renowned Alchemist running out of the minimal stamina he had with him. Buried between the valley of your breast, Albedo had the most serene (almost drunk) expression on his face, lips pressed against the skin over your heart where it beats with fervor from your activity.

He tested another experimental thrust, lighter this time, as he felt your mixed fluids moved around the tiny space. You gave a wailing moan at his action, and he breathlessly laughed at your reaction.

Albedo stayed in you and on you for a few more minutes after that. Still trying to regain strength as your tired pants became the white noise that night.

"Albedo..." he hums against your chest as his arms tightened around your waist, enjoying the peace your hands brought to him as you stroke his cheek. "Albedo, I need to clean up." He jests that you should just keep it in you and you responded with rapid pats, whining at the notion. He chuckles.

It took him a lot of willpower to get up and he made it obvious as hell, taking his time to remove himself off your chest, grumbling that his bed was complaining too much. You let out a cute snort before smacking his arm. Albedo grips your hips as he gently pulls out when he stops suddenly, realizing that the liquids would pour out and make an obvious mess if he were to do so.

His head passes around the immediate area as he pinpoints a peculiar object, plucking it from its plastic package, still new from the bubble wrap. A sharp gasp suddenly comes by you at the cold and hard sensation that replaced Albedo inside you, only a few inches deep as the Alchemist walks off to get tissues. Wary, you looked down to see the object, choking out when you saw its end sticking out past your crotch:

A test tube, pristine and clean, was preventing the fluids from dripping out of your hole.

When Albedo came back with the tissues and spare cloth in hand, he muses at how your deep red face was smacked tightly against your palms. He offers to clean up, a gentle hand carefully pulling out the tube, but you refused and got quick work on yourself. That was enough embarrassment for tonight.

Unbeknownst to you with your busied self, Albedo held the glass vial in close inspection and curiosity. The translucent white liquid barely blocks the night light and produced the same strong scent he'd been chasing the whole night— he sticks his tongue out to taste, ah, slightly salty and sticky.

Albedo wonders what kind of experiment he can do with this.

The obvious lift on the shoulders of the Chief Alchemist was greatly acknowledged by everyone in town who were aware of the impasse the young man had troubled himself with for the past few days. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the tealness he has shined with newfound vigor. Besides the mood shift, many of the knights had also noticed the time spent between the two of you. Missions and expeditions were always coinciding with each other and people barely saw you separated, giggling and smiling to yourselves in your pink world.

One day they finally found out about your relationship when a knight barged in to his laboratory for an urgent matter. Blurting out the Chief Alchemist's name before he realized that you were there, lips locked against each other.

The news spreads fast with that little detail and everyone congratulated you on your relationship.

Behind your bashful smiles, you and Albedo sighed in great relief, thankful to the archons that the knight didn't took notice of your hand under his big white coat that time.

This turned out like this cuz alchemy boy very new to things u_u and little stamina, he needs to exercise more ehe-

@creation-magician @dandelion-dreams @zelos-simp @struggljng @youroffical-weirdo @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #exile.flower #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #Albedo #not for children #bonafide specials #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #author.exe stopped working #author scared #*glares* part two will wait a lil longer #female reader