#A bit less organized thoughts oops

[train-fans-anonymous]

Im back with answers and more random thoughts, first I'll answer the questions you had from the last ask. Questions will be in blue and answers will be in white/black (depending on your settings)

"Do you think it is because they wouldn’t want to lose their luxuries? are they afraid of living knowing that if they speak up they can be silenced? or do they simply not care about what’s lower than them?"

it's mostly the last reason, it simply doesn't effect them and they don't care all that much unless it effects them in some sort of way. Some do have the other reasons, but it's mostly the last

"Even if they were somehow to find someone willing to undergo a large surgery do you think it’d be safe? would there be people who take advantage of this and charge low with high interest rates to trap someone into servitude?"

It would most likely not be all that safe, with heavy risks of malpractice or outright lying about what they end up doing. I do think it would be safer to go to a Doc who us less well known or has less to gain from lying to them. I actually hadn't thought of that other idea, but now that you mention it I can totally see it happening. I think it would most likely only happen to hyper specific cast mechs, something that is harder to get by normal means.

"Are they shunned by their former friends and followers and do they continue to have the opportunity of luxury AFTER empurata?"

It really depends, it's possible to maintain a mechs status after empurata but it's very hard. If they are well known enough and their appearance is not as important to that they should be OK. (Kind of like how celebrities who do bad things can still remain in good standing)

"Do you think any (probably viewed as insane) noblemechs would display their empurata as like a “message”? or propaganda, trying to express their views."

Yes, if their personality seems to fit and that they hadn't had their personality or anything changed. There is one AU I've seen where they had starscream under go empurata, and he would definitely be the type to show it off as a statement.

"Do you think he experiences phantom pains from his hands like cramping? Or maybe sometimes he’s reach over and knocks something down because he still sometimes “feels” his hand? Is this a point of distress for him?"

Most definitely. I think any mech that gets a replacement connected to their systems or processor they tend to get phantom pains, in the case of Shockwave I think he would just permanently offline the segment of his processor related to the parts of the body he had gotten removed. Along with that I believe Shockwave could manually switch the commands used for his dominate hand to his only remaining hand. It's risky and not anything that a normal mech would consider but Shockwave isn't really a normal mech...

now I have another idea, it's related to the cycle of life for sparks and Somethings related to that.

So, new sparks are more connected to the planet and they lose connection as they grow up. They learn to walk, talk, transform, and the basic things required to live from that early connection, and they can learn and give things they learn to the planet (I think more specifically the well of the all sparks) in their early years. There is exceptions, in partial outliers. They maintain a connection and that is where they get their powers from, most don't know that but its the way they get their powers.

Anyway have fun with that one :]

Sidenote: I have finally found someone who knows what I mean when I say I wanna bite people in a good way

YOOO WERE BACK!!! my favorite time reading time 😎👍 glad to see my biting was well received, be sure to smash that subscribe button and hit the bell if you’d like to see more mutual biting xddd

Aaa it’s sad to hear Shockwave just cuts off the feedback from his hand :((( and also crazy how he pushes his physical body to the limits “It's risky and not anything that a normal mech would consider but Shockwave isn't really a normal mech...” Also bro????!?!! that end bit. Hang on just the thought that he goes out of his way to do things that nobody else would consider for the cause is [mindblown] he’s literally changing himself physically and mentally for what he thinks is best ahanbsebevsbbnnjjjjj

Interesting to hear that Starscream would show off his empurata… Honestly he is the victim of a lot already but I could see him owning it, because despite his struggles he still pushes forward towards his plans.

In addition to your thoughts of the possibility that mechs could maintain their status as empuratees, do you think they might even gain some followers FROM their empurata? Comparison between celebrities is interesting but makes a lot of sense, despite supporting or doing bad things - you can still keep power through any means necessary.

Your comment about “specific class” mechs intrigues me. Is this for mechs with a specific function or hard to come by software? Do you think there’s be essentially a body/hardware trade (like how Lockdown from Animated collects parts and mods from his bounties) in that you could trade some important part of your body or maybe even your function to regain your life? (Maybe similar to Nautica in IDW trying to sell her emotions in exchange for Skids)

This is the part I’m really excited in because I always love seeing how people write Transformers being created: their connection to the planet reminds me a lot of things like going immersant from IDW2 where bots who feel accomplished in life give their body and mind back to Cybertron. Interesting how they gather data, knowledge, and power from the planet. Do you think if a bot were to be born nearer to like the helex they’d develop differently or have different knowledge than someone from protohex? what about Cybertron’s moons? Do certain areas of Cybertron have a higher yield for outlier sparks?

Thanks for taking the time to answer the questions and to write more, this is really fun to keep up with. And yet again sorry for not receiving the notification 🫡 we stan tumblr mobile web version in this household (lying)

#A bit less organized thoughts oops #transformers #maccadam #writing #worldbuilding #asks #mx jester #i gotta get a consistent tagging system

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!! #writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

[studentbyday]

oops! i did it again. lessons from this school year...

Hey, you remember that post I made about my winter term priorities? HAHAHAHAHahaha ha ha. That plan totally went to shit, but it's all part of the journey, right? 😅 (Tbh, it's quite difficult to make a conscious effort to change yourself when the default response to being and feeling busy is to go on autopilot -> all the unconscious habits, even if unhealthy, take control, and bc it's unconscious, you don't realize it until it gets quite bad! anyway! no more! my future plans make it so this will be impossible to do while still retaining some sense of sanity. so to prep, we're gonna slowly implement little changes so hopefully it's not so overwhelming that i give up)

🧘🏻‍♀️ comparing mindsets in fall and winter term

Fall term was not that bad bc I had 2 STEM subjects I really really loved and was interested in (biochem and mol bio 💕), and despite their difficulty, that love and interest and the feeling that "I am in the right field for me" kept me positive. There were times I thought I would feel burnout symptoms if I wasn't careful, but I really think that positivity protected me from the worst of it.

Winter term, however...I had one favorite subject: moral philosophy, which led to me wistfully dreaming about an AU in which I double majored in philosophy and piano performance, lol. After the highs of biochem and mol bio and the natural ease with which the bits of info flowed together in those subjects, I did not enjoy pharmacology or the 2nd half of psyc as much -> loss of interest -> negativity and feeling like I'm in the wrong field bc how dare I not like pharmacology (or psychology) as much as the other life science-y subjects when it's really so important for us to survive and thrive! 😅 I mean, there were times I could get that spark from pharmacology or psyc, but it wasn't often enough or intense enough to keep me consistently inspired throughout the semester. The feeling of "maybe I don't have what it takes and I'm in the wrong field" was compounded by the re-realization that there's sm to know of bioinformatics and I struggle to know any of it! Persevering is important, but it's harder to persevere with a negative mindset.

😤 what went wrong this school year and what i learned from it

I still struggle with perfectionism (and bc of it, procrastination). While it might not be as bad as it was in high school, I still spent too long on assignments that weren't worth much and during finals season, was so scared of getting less than 90% just to keep up my A+ streak. Like, I'm pretty sure no one who cares to know your GPA cares about whether you have an A+ streak or not. I have too high a threshold for what is a "disappointing" grade. I also struggle with deep regret about how I haven't mastered everything they throw at us in each course... definitely an unrealistic expectation, especially as the proportion of new info to absorb increases with each course. I did what I could using what I knew to do, so it is what it is. I may find ways to make improvements and learn more, but I won't beat myself up for not having known to do those things in the past.

Did not use effective study methods. Since first year, my problem has been keeping up with the readings and my solution has been to just use typed outline notes. It worked for the first few years when it was mostly review from previous courses with a few new concepts in between. But as I progress through my degree, the proportion of completely new info is increasing. This notetaking method won't work anymore bc it just causes cognitive overload, especially during exam season (when I've mostly forgotten the details of everything that isn't smth I've already known for years). E.g. for pharmacology, I got so bogged down by the details of all the drug classes that I didn't see the big picture and so didn't organize the info according to it. This made it hard to see patterns and better chunk the info. I was so stressed during finals season bc of this (and the sheer amount of notes that I had to read for psyc 😭). What makes it feel like even more of a problem is that the cognitive overload problem from my notetaking method has been a thing for all other uni courses thus far, it's just that pharmacology was the first time I needed to create a stronger connecting thread between the otherwise disparate pieces of info (drug classes). In all other courses, that thread was part of the nature of the topic being studied so I eventually understood it as I kept going and mentally re-organized it in my brain...but even then it was hodge-podge and so my depth of mastery was and is so flimsy, and every semester I leave feeling drained and like I wasted the opportunity to maximize my learning. (How dramatic I get about this is also probably tied to my perfectionism, but I still think it would greatly benefit future me to change my notetaking style.)

🎓 advice for future me

Look at the academic calendar, specifically the faculty course descriptions. Look at how many hours they say you should expect to spend on each activity in the course. Try to use those learning hours as a guide for your schedule so that you don't spend too long on an item that isn't worth much. If there isn't such a breakdown, assume one based on whatever they give you or other courses and adjust from there.

Be a more efficient reader by skimming the text first so you can map the flow of info in a way that best creates ease of understanding/synthesis/memory (e.g. via an outline, tree diagram, flowchart, mind map, or simple drawings - and noticing when a list/outline will NOT be helpful bc it'll just be too overwhelming and not easy to compare/contrast info and see patterns). I knowww you've survived thus far without doing it this way and done well, BUT with this many courses, the increasing complexity of each subject, and the overload of info in each, you WILL need to do this to make quicker work of the readings, save you sooo much stress during exam seasons, and improve how much you learn while in school which is the real goal you've wanted to achieve all this time. Don't repeat the mistake you made in pharmacology. And it really doesn't have to be aesthetic and you definitely should NOT get caught up with it if you really wanna learn. You could just use one color for everything and a highlighter and just basic shapes/lines - that alone can be way more effective than boring paragraphs/lists or a colorful, overly complex diagram that'll just distract you from the main point.

Create a realistic daily routine (wake-up and sleep times, start and end times for schoolwork) and be strict about following it. Set your non-negotiables for personal goals to keep up with alongside your schoolwork bc academics aren't everything. Remember how you regretted not devoting more time to extra-curriculars and other skills in high school which would've rounded you out as a person. You can try theming the parts of the day so that you don't have to think about what task you should do first after study breaks and keep up the momentum (e.g. mornings for readings and notes, afternoons for active recall/homework). Then you can live the rest of the day after school as structured or unstructured as you wish. If this strategy doesn't work for you, you don't have to use it.

Take advantage of interleaving so you don't get bored. Whether by following the theming strategy or just switching subjects every hour, idc if you aren't done yet, you better switch bc the second consecutive hour of the same thing is never as effective as the first.

#studyblr #studyspo #study motivation #becoming that girl #pink aesthetic #study tips #study advice #personal post #100dop #100 days of productivity #stemblr #stem academia #stem student #100 days of studying #100 days of self discipline #perfectionism #study strategies #mental health #chaotic academia

[kermitscavern]

Watch the World Turn Green

For @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Summer Challenge! It's a day late but shhh no it isn't

Dialogue Prompt: "How did everything get so green so fast?" | Pairing: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler | Rating: T | CW: None | Word Count: 4k

Robin has always hated the winter. It’s cold, it’s grey, there’s nothing to do, and she gets sad. It gets harder and harder to drag herself out of bed, her days blend into one long string of schoolworkbedschoolworkbed, and to make it worse, senioritis has been setting in��hard. She usually spends every January-through-March counting down the days till spring hits. At least the groundhog saw his shadow this year, predicting an early spring. God bless Punxsutawney Phil. So come March, she keeps her eyes peeled for the budding crocuses, the first patches of green grass, and the fresh buds coming from winter-dormant trees. The allergies suck, but spring brings Ultimate Frisbee season (hey, she has to get her sports credit somehow) enough warmth to make her lips stop turning blue, and color. She loves to see the color come back.

It was only the second of February, though, and those days seemed so far away it didn’t even make sense to dream of them. There's been one person making her days a little less dreary, though.

When Robin got bored, she decided to pick a piece of eye-candy in her classes, y’know, to pass the time. They weren’t real crushes, just a bit of fun, someone to daydream about during math class.

She shared Biology, Stats, and Modern Lit with Nancy Wheeler.

So besides being convenient, she was also really cute, which helped. And even better, she was Steve’s ex— she had passed many a slow shift at Family Video watching Steve’s face turn increasingly entertaining colors as she asked if Nancy’s lips were really as soft as they looked, if he thought she was a B or C cup.

So yeah. It was fun. And Nancy was really smart, too.

It started when they had been paired up for an assignment about 1984. Nancy had never been Robin’s favorite person, she was too preppy, too clean cut, and besides, she was Steve’s ex, so she was predisposed to hate her. But ah. Haha. Oops. Sorry Steve-o, but the loins want what the loins want. (Steve had smacked her for that one, it hadn’t been serious, but it did sting a little.) Nope, it turned out Nancy was really cool and pretty and witty and just the right kind of innocent that drove Robin wild.

And even though Robin was an absolute wuss, it turned out it was much easier to invite pretty girls over when it was under the pretext of homework. They did talk about 1984 a little bit, but they got kind of distracted when Nancy started berating her for not reading that weeks chapter— Robin tried to look apologetic but she kept getting distracted by the quirk of her lips as Nancy tried to keep a straight face through “telling her off,” the gentle whack of her manicured fingers leaving tingling ghosts across her skin.

She was down bad. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Now this, this was a problem. As long as she didn’t think she actually liked Nancy Wheeler, she was all set. But as soon as the feelings became serious, she turned into an absolute mess. She tried to hide the truth from herself. It didn’t work.

The next time she had a shift at Family Video with Steve, it took about twenty minutes before Steve was asking her what was up.

“So… How’s Nancy?” He had asked, nudging her in the side, wiggling his brows suggestively. “She was meant to come over last night, right? You get to figure out how soft her lips are for yourself?”

She shoved him back, not unkindly. “Shut up.” She grumped. “Nothing happened.”

Steve froze. “Oh.” He said. “So something did happen, just not for her.”

Robin was glaring daggers. “Shut the hell up. Now.”

The next time Nancy came over, it was just to hang out. They had started getting coffee after school together, so that was a thing that happened now. They hung out.

Something was off from the moment Nancy came in, though. She rushed them up to her room, her lips a hard line, her eyes avoiding Robin’s as she asked how her day had been.

“Nance, it was fine, how was yours?” Robin asked, freaked out enough to place a comforting hand on her shoulder without her brain spinning a thousand unpleasant tales about the consequences.

“I- So- Well- So Jonathan and I—” She started, took a deep breath, looked at Robin with tears in her eyes, and spit out, “So Jonathan and I are over. Like, done. It’s finished. We’re… done.” She gave one last pathetic sniffle and keeled over, effectively crying into Robin’s lap.

Right. So. This was happening. Robin was having trouble stopping herself from short circuiting. She was always awful at this kind of stuff— emotions, comforting people, et cetera. She had no idea how some people just had the perfect things to say, all the time.

But she tried, carefully lowering her hand to Nancy’s softsoftsoft curls, stroking them in what she hoped was a soothing way. “There there,” she stuttered out, wracking her brain for how they handled situations like this in movies. “It’ll be okay, he doesn’t deserve you. Um. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

Nancy sniffled, raising her head from her lap. “You’re pretty awful at this.” She cracked a small smile, looking unreal and yet so, so human with her red and shiny eyes. “Haven’t you ever been broken up with before?”

“Um. No.” She admitted, breaking eye contact with Nancy as she worried a lip between her teeth.

“Lucky.” Nancy chuckled, laying back in Robin’s lap.

“I mean, yes and no…” Robin said quietly, glad Nancy wasn’t able to see her face turning red as the girl in her lap grabbed her hand and gently started playing with her fingers.

“Hmm…” Nancy hummed after a moment. “So you’ve never been in a relationship?”

“Nope.” She got out, trying not to squeak, trying to fight the urge to grab Nancy’s hand and pepper it with little kisses and tell her she shouldn’t be wasting her precious tears over Jonathan, that she deserved so much better than some stupid boy.

“How about on a date?” She pressed on, and while Robin was starting to feel a little shy about her inexperience, she hoped this was at least getting Nancy’d mind off him.

“No, not even.”

A beat. “Ever kissed anyone?” She asked so gently, her eyes coming up to reach Robin’s.

Robin swallowed, blushing but unable to take her eyes away from the angel in her lap. “Uh. No.” She breathed out. Not like there was much chance to in small-town Indiana.

A couple moments of silence. Nancy brought her eyes away and looked across the room, hand almost imperceptibly squeezing Robins before she asked in the barest whisper, “Because you’ve never found another girl who wanted to?”

Robin froze, all warm and fuzzy feelings going freezing cold. She felt like she wanted to throw up, hell, she just might. “I— No—” She stuttered, “That’s not—”

Nancy froze her with a look. Voice wavering, “Robin…” she said, catching her eye and stopping her stuttering, “I… I want to.” She admitted, jaw set, on the verge of tears again, with more bravery than Robin would ever have.

Robin breathed. “Okay,” she said, trying some of Nancy’s bravery on for size. “I want to, too.” She admitted for the first time since she got way too high with Steve in the Scoops bathroom after work, for the second time in her life because she couldn’t even look in the mirror and say it without looking away.

A deep breath. “Robin,” Nancy coaxed, their confessions hanging heavy in the air, “will you… kiss me?”

Robin was terrified, mouth gone dry, brain completely short-circuited. She was in disbelief, and frozen.

Nancy squeezed her hand again, the delicate tears perched so precariously on her lashes. “Please?” She asked again, looking so fragile that she might break with the slightest touch, the smallest word said in the wrong tone.

“Okay.” She breathed, squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned down, because she was still so scared this wasn’t real. But Nancy’s lips were real when they met, and yes, they were just as soft as they looked.

And if she had any sense, she would be terrified of being a rebound, of a mistake made in a vulnerable moment, or worse yet, the butt of a practical joke. But she was too infatuated for that to cross her mind, and besides, Nancy didn’t seem like the type.

She let herself have this. She let them have this moment, in case they never got to have another one. It was soft, and gentle, and so full of care. Robin could taste her strawberry lipgloss, confirming her suspicions that that was why she could never tear her eyes away from her shiny lips.

They broke after a moment, and Robin felt her mouth going a mile a minute. “I’m so sorry, are you sure you still want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t, we can just pretend it never happened, I’m cool with that— also was that really bad? I’m sorry it probably was, I really don’t know what I’m doing, I—“

Nancy cut her off with a hand gently cupping her cheek, as she sat up properly. “Hey,” she said, gently directing Robin’s frantic eyes to meet hers. “It’s okay. I do want to do this. I want to do this with you. You’re not doing badly, just follow my lead, okay? It’s easy. Relax.” She slowly leaned in again, and Robin let herself relax a little more into the better angle. Her eyes fluttered closed as she gripped onto Nancy’s arm, the other hand coming up to her shoulder. She felt awkward, and there was definitely still some anxiety buzzing around, but she was starting to let herself enjoy the experience of kissing Nancy Wheeler.

Just as she was beginning to get into the rhythm, the last of her walls coming down, she felt a tongue prod against her lips. “Mmf!” She squeaked in surprise, pulling back.

Nancy looked up at her, concern starting to creep across her features. “I’m sorry— is this— is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Robin breathed. “Just surprised, that’s all. Um. I don’t really know what I’m doing. Especially not when it comes to um. Tongues.”

Nancy smiled at her fondly. “That’s alright, just do what I do, okay? Try to feel the rhythm. You don’t have to apologize.”

Robin smiled at her gratefully, before Nancy was gently pushing her back onto the bed, their lips reconnecting. She dutifully opened her mouth to let Nancy lick in, and should probably have been more embarrassed by the sound it elicited from her. But as it was she was so in awe of what was happening, she was hardly even aware of herself.

The introduction of tongues brought a new intensity to the game, the innocent kitten kisses turning more involved as the pair found their footing. After a couple of minutes, Nancy sat up to readjust herself, bringing a leg over Robin’s hips so she straddled the girl lying beneath her. “You’re so hot,” she told her, voice low and husky as a grin worked its way across her lips, with a glint in her eye that made Robin’s stomach turn. She felt hands sneak under her shirt, fingers tracing shapes across her stomach with feather-light touches, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Yeah?” Robin breathed, her chest rising and falling as she tried to hide the fact she was panting. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her, and she certainly hadn’t imagined this for her first kiss.

“Yeah.” Nancy grinned, raking a hand through her hair in a move she must have calculated to destroy Robin. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the girl on top of her, eyes tracing the curves of her waist, her chest, her neck, mesmerized by the way the curls bounced on her shoulders as she shook her hair out. Nancy caught her staring and returned her a devilish grin as she leaned down again, bracing herself with an arm beside her head.

Fuck. “So are you.” She told her, Nancy now so close their noses were nearly touching. She caught her smile before she was dipping down again, reconnecting their lips.

She felt her hips stutter as Nancy’s roaming hand found her chest, cutting off a groan as she did so. She felt Nancy’s hips roll down in response, and Robin brought a knee up to support them, slotting it between Nancy’s legs. She groaned into her mouth as she ground against it, her head dropping into the hollow of her neck as she continued to rub herself against Robin’s thigh. Robin was seeing stars just listening to her. She couldn’t believe she had Hawkin’s perfect princess making downright filthy sounds into her ear, making her hot all over.

She gasped again as she felt a nip at her neck, Nancy sucking and biting at the sensitive skin below her ear. She knew enough to know she’d have a bitch of bruise to cover the next morning. Thank god her mom had bought her some makeup for her sixteenth birthday. When Nancy sat up again, it was to rip off her shirt, Robin’s brain going blank as her hands flew to her own shirt next as she felt Nancy pulling it over her head with an urgent “offoffoff.” She felt a hand on her chest pushing her back against the pillows, Nancy looking unreal as she dipped down again, this time working her lips down her chest and along her braline. A hand flew up to Nancy’s shoulder as she felt a hand sneak behind her back to the clasp of her bra.

Nancy stopped abruptly and sat up, worry creasing her brow as she looked into Robin’s pleading eyes. Robin felt a blush creep up her neck and across her cheeks, a deep pit of embarrassment filling her stomach.

Nancy dipped her head, muttering a quiet ”Fuck,” mostly to herself. She gave Robin an apologetic smile as she rolled off her, the pair now lying side by side on the bed. Robin felt her head shift to look at her, and matched the action at Nancy’s soft, “hey,”

“I’m really sorry—” She began, but Nancy cut her off, finding her hand and giving it a soft squeeze.

“No, hey, don’t say that, I’m sorry. I took it too far, and I should’ve known better.” She watched her eyes dip, before fluttering back to meet hers.

“It’s really okay, it’s just all a bit much all at once, and I’m not saying I don’t want to, uh, go further, because I do, it’s just—” she felt herself rambling, unable to meet Nancy’s eyes because she’s pretty sure she just told her that she wanted to like, have sex with her or something. She was brought back to reality by Nancy reaching over and placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

“—a lot.” She finishes for her. “Don’t worry, I get it. We don’t have to do everything all at once.” She drifted off to a murmur at the end as she trailed a few more kisses across her jaw and down her neck, making Robin shiver. “It’s probably best to stop now anyway,” she continued, placing a final kiss to Robin’s lips before sitting up. “It’s getting late, and my mom wants me home for dinner.”

“I— Oh— Okay,” was all she was able to get out, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched Nancy tug her shirt back on. Her skin still felt like it was on fire, her brain still reeling from what just happened.

Once she’d fixed herself, she turned back to Robin, a fond smile gracing her lips as she took in what must be her sorry state. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, half asking, half promising, as she pulled Robin up with a hand, rubbing soft circles into the back with her thumb.

“Sounds good,” She told her, clearing her throat as she found her voice again. “Yeah, sounds good.” Nancy left her with another of her treasured smiles as she slipped out the door, and Robin shook her head to try to clear the fog.

There was no way that had just happened, right? There was no way she had just had her first kiss, with Nancy Wheeler of all people, with her panting in her ear, trying to take them to second? third? base. And yet, as she looked in the mirror, a hand flew up in horror to blossoming blue mark on her neck as her mom called, ”Robbie! Dinner!

~*~

The next few weeks were a strange time for Robin. She and Nancy definitely had a… thing. She was over at the Wheeler residence almost every day, usually making out. But they also talked, and did homework, and when it was late enough that Nancy started talking about her insecurities, Robin would try to tell her how amazing she was without sounding like the completely lovesick idiot she was.

Sure, it had started out as a silly crush, and then it had been fun to fool around, but now that Robin was getting to know the real Nancy, the one who huffed in her sleep, who was cranky in the morning and late at night, who liked to make her guests pancakes because it was the one recipe her mom had taught her that she was actually good at, she was starting to fall a little bit in love. But even though that was the case, she wasn’t sure she was even ready for a relationship, if she even wanted one. She rarely got to keep the good things in her life, so who’s to say Nancy wouldn’t just drop her as soon as a cute boy looked her way, who knew if Nancy would even go out with her if she asked? Wanting to kiss a girl and wanting to date one were two very different things.

So the grey days continued to drudge on, and Robin tried to pull back to stop herself from getting too attached. And Nancy was having none of it.

“Robin,” Nancy grabbed her leg. “What’s going on?” The pair were sitting on Nancy’s bed, and Robin had not-so-elegantly ended a makeout sesh because she had “homework to do,” but was really because she was having trouble keeping her hands under control.

"I told you,” she said, avoiding her gaze as she twisted out of her hand to pack her bag. “I have a lot of stuff due tomorrow, I gotta head out. Sorry.”

She froze when Nancy grabbed her shoulder, her other hand coming up to cup her face and face it towards herself. “Bullshit. Somethings been going on, you’ve been completely off lately. Is something going on? Do you want to stop? …Did I do something?"

Robin couldn’t stand the guilt in Nancy’s big blue eyes. Her stomach dropped. “No, it’s not you, god it’s not you, trust me. I’ve just been, I don’t know. I’m not sure how I feel. I’m not sure this is a good idea. Do you even want to keep doing… this?” She asked, gesturing between them wildly. “Like, what are we even doing here? Fuck!” She was breathing heavily, eyes a little wild as she unleashed all her anxieties.

“Of course I want to keep doing this,” said Nancy in a small voice that broke Robin’s heart. “But if you want to stop I get it, Rob, it’s just, I really like you.”

“You do?” Robin felt like she could only whisper, the moment between them was so fragile. “Because god I like you so much, I’m just so scared, all the time. And I’m not sure I can do this anymore, like this. I’m terrified I need more, and I’m terrified I’ll scare you away.” She wasn’t sure where this was all coming from, this bravery, and bluntness. She had a sneaking suspicion her brain had turned off and she was working on autopilot.

She watched, terrified, as Nancy chewed her lip, eyes cast down as she thought. “You mean like, date?”

“God, yes. Nancy Wheeler, will you go on a date with me?” She blurted, fed up with the turmoil in her head. She needed an answer, yes or no, so she could just move on with her life.

“Yes.” She said quietly, but as her gaze came up again a grin was spread across her face. Robin felt a smile split hers too as she leaned forward, connecting their lips in a desperate celebration.

“She said yes!” She raved, elation finishing off her adrenaline high. She felt snapped back to reality, a million thoughts and possibilities running through her head. For once, the future seemed hopeful.

~*~

Life with Nancy was good, so good. She had no idea how she made it through winters before her. Yes, the cold and grey still sucked, and she was still eager for frisbee season, but she wasn’t counting down the days anymore. She didn’t need a future to distract herself with when she was so happy every day, with Nancy. On their first date, Nancy asked her to be her girlfriend, and Robin wouldn’t stop raving to Steve for weeks. Classes still sucked, but she shared a whole three with Nancy, and she saw her at lunch and in the halls and after school. The winter was still depressing, but she had Nancy as her guiding light through the darkness. The wind was still terribly cold, but she had Nancy to bundle her in her arms, to warm her frost bitten hands between hers with a tut.

Before long, it was warm enough to plan a proper “outside date,” a picnic. Robin dug out the mini tea set from elementary school, and they got together at Nancy’s house to make tea sandwiches and slice fruit. They found a quiet spot on top of hill, an expanse of forest and buried rooftops visible beneath them, and they felt above it all. They laid out the blanket and ate their sandwiches and drank their tea and reveled in each others company, and when that was done they lay down, sides pressed together and thumbs tracing gentle circles between them.

After a while, the chit chat petered out, and Robin started to doze, lost in her thoughts. She felt a hand stroking her hair, and leaned up to grin at her girlfriend. She was caught by the scene in front of her, her eyes locked on Nancy’s. In one staggering moment, she realized she had never been happier. She took a moment to look around herself— the sky was a dazzling blue, the flowers were coming into bloom, birds were chittering in the trees, dashes of red and black flitting between branches, and although she was still cozied up in a sweater, the wind didn’t have the same bite it did during the winter months. She was taken aback by a sudden thought— ”How did everything get so green so fast?”

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #stranger things #stranger things fic #st fic #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #kermits creations #first kiss #getting together #this was so fun to work on thanks for setting it up lex !!

[assortedvillainvault]

So I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't know you had this blog until recently; *clearly* I have been out of the loop. But it's okay, because now I get to read and enjoy the hell out of all your headcanons!

I am already getting such a kick out of your Hades, he's fantastic. :)

I was... *cough*... wondering if you might have any reader x Tarn headcanons? (No rush!)

DCCCCCC you're gonna make me blush dammit XD It's ok, I feel awkward bringing this blog up (despite the fact I never touch my main anymore, oops-)

Sorry it's taken a while to get to this - :) I can absolutely do some Tarn~

Giant homicidal murder robot is GO:

Tarn x Reader Headcannons:

As a human, you're of little consequence initially.

Tarn is...not dealing well, to put it lightly, with Megatron's change of tune. Perhaps he thought Megatron's opinion of organics had done a 180, just like the rest of his beliefs, and yoinked you from earth to use as bargaining bait for...something.

You're not sure if even he knows what, anymore.

The rest of the DJD give you a wide berth when not treating you like a bug caught in an upturned glass. You're pretty glad for that, but prefer Kaon's crackling fingertips to the pure venom pouring off Nickel any day of the week.

Tarn himself is reticient, preffering not to engage with you at all except to monologue to drunkenly when the 'woe is me/the cause/the faction/the species' gets a bit too maudlin for the rest of his team to handle.

He probably didn't expect you to respond, much less ask questions.

Look you're trapped in space with giant robots who have no concept of time in the decades instead of millions of years - you're BORED and need to take your mind off legitimately everything.

The last thing you expect is a copy of Towards Peace in English for you.

The last thing he expects is for you to not only have read it, but read it again with bookmarks and annotations for further context, queries and sections that seem completely wack even for a civil war that lasted for 4 million years.

You debate late into the recharge hours, your fresh persepctive cross-referencing a belief already shaken by the about turn of the author. Somewhere as you do this refreshments appear. Then blankets. Then music.

By the time the conversation has moved onto cultural differences and concepts of appearance it's almost a goddamn sleepover.

You get to sit on his shoulder after that.

Tarn hums regularly when deep in thought and honestly? You like the sound of the tunes he sings. The bass vibrates through your bones almost pleasantly.

Eventually you realise that sometimes the rest of the DJD will shudder, flinch or groan as he hums. He doesn't seem to do it deliberately, and a throat clearing from Vos or Kaon will jolt him out of it.

You don't leave the ship. Especially not on missions.

The only time a target was taken down near the ship, you couldn't move for the screaming.

It would be madness to ask to hear his talent properly. Lunacy. Insanity. You've definitely been cooped up too long...

...but humans don't have sparks to break and you're so curious it burns.

The sonata to treats you to is comperable to a supernova in your skull. When you ask to hear it again from your puddled position on the floor, he laughs.

You're not going back to Earth any time soon.

#thalassa responds #so sorry for the wait DC #hope you like this! #Not my finest work I don't think but for a first time writing Tarn it's not too bad. #Local murderbot gets lonely and mopes more at 11 #transformers #maccadam #tarn #djd #mtmte tarn #mtmte

[fluffallamaful]

Remember that old Punz and Dream Server Interrogation thing I had in the past? Well considering the mood you seem to be in rn, let’s bring it back.

Okay, so, new setup: the nuke/reset fails, Dream and Punz kick Tommy out immediately. Tubbo and Jack soon follow suit. Tommy explains his revelation to Tubbo and Jack and then they hatch a new plan — one to unite the server. They organize, talk, shit happens, yadda yadda yadda. The important thing here is that the open communication makes some of the members of the server — specifically Quackity, Sapnap, Bad, George, and Karl — realize that things aren’t adding up, and they need to have a bit of a real, honest to god chat about what the hell is going on.

Somehow they capture the two of them. And then the two of them are tied up so tight they can’t move, and the five of them are trying to figure out how best to go about this, because those two aren’t really in a talking mood. (Quackity is among them. Dream is panicking. Punz is spitting in rage, mostly on his partner’s behalf.) Quackity is the first to step forward, and of course he steps towards Dream. Punz is yelling at him to back off, switching between terror and absolute fury as he tries to find a way to spare his friend. And then Quackity asks Dream if he’s still ticklish.

Dream freezes at that. It’s enough of an answer.

The next five minutes or so are literally just Quackity finding ways to make him laugh. He squeezed his sides, scritches into his armpits, whatever he can think of. But there’s something off about this. He brushes his delicate wings against his skin, he nibbles into his neck, he backs off from the spots that legitimately seem to be making him upset. By the end of it, Dream is actually way less panicked than before, and a whole lot more confused.

Then Sapnap asks if Punz is ticklish, and he’s WAY less gentle, because Punz betrayed him >:( He thought Punz was on his side!!! No mercy. Punz is howling within seconds. After he’s gotten that out of his system, the interrogation begins for real.

Concepts:

- Dream and Punz are both told to volunteer areas to be tickled. And for a while they both pick spots that they know aren’t too horrible for them other, but then Dream picks ribs by mistake because he thinks it’s not a total death spot but — oops, it totally is for Punz. Punz then decides to get him back by asking for tummy tickles, which he knows Dream can’t stand. (Punz is also very good at not getting flustered, so he ends up adding a couple more details as to how he wants their tummies to get tickled. Dream always falls to pieces when raspberries are blown in that spot.)

- Punz doesn’t get flustered easily. Dream absolutely does. After Punz realizes that this isn’t really a dangerous situation — which takes a while — he starts joining the others in teasing Dream. This eventually ends up becoming a 6v1 when Punz manages to untie himself, which is totally unfair but also Dream hasn’t gotten any proper affection in literal years, so.

- The Lers have competitions to see who can make either one of them laugh harder. Sometimes they do it 2v2. Dream gets teamed up on by Sapnap and Quackity at least once.

- Punz does actually get flustered at one point. It’s adorable. But then he realizes just how flustered DREAM is and snaps out of it to tease him.

- etc.

wwweeeehehehehee a new auuuuu!!! :0 :D !! i’m unbelievably excited to explore punz and dream’s relationship in this one coz holy moly. is this the first AU we’ve had where dream isn’t entirely alone? the first one where he actually has a buddy??☹️ my heart sings. and you’ve got punz being so protective that’s so incredibly adorable

(more more more below!!!)

🦙🦙🦙…

ok so lemme just make sure i’ve understood the timeline here,,

so tommy dream and punz have had their chat in the prison,, and have come to the realisation that maybe they actually all want similar-ish things on the server after all? tommy finally sees dream as more than a crazed villain and dream finally has a moment of remembering his original motives… but the nuke still flies towards them and the sirens still blast and they all have the horrifying moment of realising that they’re all going to die and that their no way around it.

and then the nuke fails.

tommy is promptly escorted out by the sleeve of his shirt and punz and dream are left in the prison — hearts still racing and ears still ringing from the nukes warning siren

it’s cute coz it kinda offers the opportunity of exploring drunz being emotionally vulnerable with each other? like punz would be able to question why tommy’s words got to dream so much,, and they’d both be able to help each other through the nightmares and flashbacks should they have any about the nuke. i can imagine that they’d both be feeling more alone and motivated to continue with their reset plan than ever,, particularly the immortality aspect of the plan… i also imagine that dream would be far more affected than punz by tommy’s betrayal.

it’s interesting that from dream’s point of view, the minute he tried to see tommy as more than just an annoying brat who can’t forward think in the slightest,, he tried to drop a nuke on his head. whereas from tommy’s pov, he’s left thrown out of the prison with a new humanising light shed on dream — a halo of hope. he runs to tubbos arms and exclaims that they’ve possibly got dream wrong this whole time!! he new about the nuke and still didn’t kill him??

the comparison between tommy and dream/punz’s thoughts on each other post-nuke are super exciting to me. tommy has been left with hope that his and dream’s relationship could improve, whereas dream has been left with the bitter remind that he should never trust anyone on this server… thankfully it’s tommy who’s on the outside of the prison, and therefore tommy’s side of the story spreads faster than dream’s.

now this manhunt with punz and dream both being caught is HECKIN EPIC. i LOVE!!! the way you described punz getting all protective over dream coz he knows how much prison and quackity had shaken him eeeeee that’s so cuteeeee

so does the interrogation start because people aren’t understanding/believing tommys explanation? so like they’re interrogating them to try and determine their motives? (as well as working out why the hell tommy is suddenly wanting them all to give drema a second chance,, it has to be some kind of trick!)

but regardless ahhhhhh gosh the chosen method of persuasion that quackity uses is tickles :((( that’s adorable. it’s adorable that punz is so angry about it, as well as the comparison between quackity and sapnap’s techniquessss 😭 dream is practically given comfort tickles that for once arent just being used as yet another way to break him,, and punz is getting absolutely wrecked until his learns to ‘use his manners while sapnao os speaking to him’

the little game they play is also heckin adorable and i absolutely adore the trope so much. like where the two lees have to pick spots for each other and accidentally end up picking each others worst spots ☹️ and punz being able to say all these flustery sentences to mess with dream and dream just being hopelessly embarrassed by it all

i want to go into these tickles moreeeeeeeeee. i love love love that they’re both just tired to a tree getting tickled silly until they explain their motives

also i’m thinking so hard about dream’s reaction to hearing that the reason that he’s not being murdered right now is because tommy had somehow convinced them all that he may actually have a side worth helping.. like that’s so exciting to explore coz i feel like he’d explode when he hears that

🦙🦙🦙…

#THE AU NEEDS a name i need a name for it #maybe just ‘failed nuke au’ ? #‘tickle interrogation au’ ? #‘drunz au’ ?😂 #llamas concepts #lee!dream #lee!punz #llama asks #soup the destroyer

[valiantvillain]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @mxanigel

Characters: drowtav (Wendolyn) x Gale

A bit of a longer snippet from my current holiday fic...which ended up becoming less fluff and more smut as it went on. Oops.

__________________

When she eventually caught sight of the tower she was now getting used to calling home, her frigid lips formed a smile under her scarf. Already she could envision melting the stiffness of her hands over the fire, around a warm mug of tea, and a shiver raced through her. Half anticipation and half genuinely just cold from a sudden gust of wind. One that followed her through the front door as she entered and sent any nearby drapery fluttering before she could manage to close it. However, it also managed to throw a certain awaiting tressym off-kilter, forcing her to right herself before shaking off the snow that had slipped inside in the process. 

“My apologies, Tara.” Wendolyn’s words were muffled as she began to unwind the scarf from her head, resting flakes dissolving in the newfound heat of the wizard’s tower. “The wind’s seems to have picked up on my way here. I assume Gale was held late.”

Had he been home, he would have been the first to greet her, eager to aid her in divesting herself of the various outer layers of winter wear. Eager to deliver a kiss to warm her frigid lips and snake his arms around her waist. The thought brought a bloom of blushing heat to her cheeks, which yet bore the remnants of glitter powder from dress rehearsal. Part of her sometimes thought she should be used to it by now, accepted every touch and physical token of affection with the nonchalance of familiarity. But a thrill still thrummed through her when he touched her, like a plucked string deep in the essence of her being. It made her wonder if perhaps their first night of intimacy in the Shadow-Cursed Lands had done something to her-or somewhat more accurately, them-to create some instinctive pull, some deep visceral bond of Weave-borne passions that connected them to a whole new degree of intimacy. Or, as her sisters liked to tease her, she had finally found someone capable of awakening the true extent of her bardic nature. Such was also entirely possible. 

“That would be correct, Ms. Gallaer,” the tressym replied in that prim manner that reminded Wendolyn of a distinguished grandmother, like the aged matriarchs of the more influential houses in the Dancer’s Steps. “Mr. Dekarios unfortunately was held up evaluating exams. Finals and all that, my dear. He sends his apologies, as well as his love, in equal measure.” 

Wendolyn heaved a sigh as she hefted her violin onto a nearby table, shaking her head. “I keep telling him he can simply do it here.” 

As the bard freed her feet from her boots, Tara followed, bright eyes examining the case which held the beloved instrument that had been with her through everything (with minimal damage that had thankfully been repaired before they had departed Baldur’s Gate). Wood did not take well to the changing weather, ever shrinking from the cold and expanding to soak in the heat when it was available. It had only taken one complaint as Wendolyn had tuned it for the fourth time one day for Gale to decide to enchant the case so that it maintained a consistent temperature. She had said it was a thoughtful gift, to which he had responded with an enigmatic smile, leaving with the distinct suspicion that he was not counting it towards her gifts for the upcoming holidays. 

“Oh, you know he refuses to bring his work home with him. Indeed, I highly doubt he would get any of it done. It would be endless stacks of papers cluttering the house. And it did take so long to organize the place properly upon your return.” 

Yes, Wendolyn remembered that. Accommodating the place for two had taken some time and they were still ironing out some of the more elusive details. Mostly the graceful cohesion of differing, if mostly complimentary, tastes with regards to decoration. Even so, it took time for even a quietly shifting environment to settle and new routines to take root. These days her music stand and the various documents that shuffled across it stood not far from where Gale usually took up residence in the living room. To his credit, he never complained over her hitting a sour note and starting over (sometimes only to strike said sour note once again). Her things were not strewn throughout the tower almost as seamlessly as his own, and occasionally the stray speck of glitter that had strayed from her costumes or stage makeup gleamed in just the right light. 

Tara, at some point, had elected to live with Gale’s mother since she had moved in. A move to give the new couple some privacy evidently, of which neither the tressym nor Morena had made any secrets. Considerate, of course, though such admissions did leave her somewhat put on the spot. Even moreso when Morena had then invited Wendolyn’s mother to move in with her until she found a place of her own. Still, Tara, ever a wizard’s familiar, popped in for various tasks, such as delivering the odd message. 

“I don’t suppose he told you when he thought he would be home.” Wendolyn yawned as she thrust her hands before the hearth, feeling as though an unseen layer of frost yet coated her skin as she thrust her hands over the fire crackling in the hearth. She tried and failed to suppress a shiver. 

A weight of fur and feathers found itself at her shoulder, soft as swan down against her cheek. 

“The likely estimate would be an hour and a half from now,” answered Tara as she pressed the tip of a wet cat’s nose to her temple, a fresh pinprick of cold against her icy flesh. Wendolyn had initially believed Gale to be over exaggerating when he said the tressym would love her, but Tara had quickly seemed to adopt her as another “pet”, addressing her with as much dignified candor as she did Gale. “Although, Mr. Dekarios could perhaps be motivated towards greater efficiency should I bring word of your eagerness to see him. The two of you have been afforded precious little time recently.”

“That we have,” agreed Wendolyn with a frown, then she tried to rub some warmth back into her stiff hands. The hand that had ferried her instrument all the way back had regained a fraction of flexibility and uncurled a little easier. 

Those first months in Waterdeep had been both restful and frenzied. Those first few weeks had been almost a blur, eager to embrace their newfound freedom and take advantage of the sudden lack of duties, the lack of death and destruction hanging over their heads. What days that had not been filled by Gale showing her the splendors of the city had been spent enjoying each other's company in the tower. Then in addition to the gaining traction of their wedding plans Gale had been offered a teaching position at Blackstaff Academy and Wendolyn had found herself in the thick of the theater scene. Circumstances that had left them both busy as winter had drawn near. The fall term was coming to a close and thus projects were hastily thrown together, students implored their professors for more time during their office hours and then prepared themselves with skipped meals and sleepless nights to study for exams. Meanwhile, plays and performances took on a whole new fervor as they raced towards opening night. Wendolyn had fallen into a role that was half actress and half assistant director. Apparently leadership suited her well, whether it be among adventurers or actors. Rehearsal days had her racing out early in the morning, sometimes barely managing to so much as nibble something before taking her leave.

That very morning had seen her rushing so hopelessly, haphazardly grabbing her sheet music and veering dangerously close to tripping on the carpet, that she had accidentally kissed Gale’s mirror image on her way out the door. She hadn't the time to correct the mistake before running off lest she be late. Such a mishap was to be expected perhaps, when one lived with a wizard. Even so, Wendolyn had hoped to make up for it later that evening. 

“Mr. Dekarios would also like to inquire as to whether you have eaten.” Tara proceeded to absentmindedly knead her shirt, mercifully keeping her claws sheathed so as not to ruin the purple brocaded wool. 

Once satisfied with the fire’s progress on her hands, Wendolyn reached up to scratch the tressym behind the ears, eliciting a contented purr. “Oh, yes. I got dinner with the cast after rehearsal. So he needn’t worry about preparing me a feast as soon as he gets back.” 

For several moments, Tara did not respond, all too happy to bask in the attention. For all that she might have been insulted by the insinuation of bearing similarities to a cat, she possessed all the same inclinations of one. 

“Very good, Ms. Gallaer.” When she finally spoke, it was with a long stretch. “I shall inform him. Shall I also tell him to act with haste?”

At first, she opened her mouth to say she would appreciate the gesture only to stop herself. The cold of her trek outside yet sat deep in her bones, the flames having melted only the edges of the chill. It would likely be the same for Gale. Why not prepare something? Something to truly warm them up and wash away the burdens of the day. Besides, it was the least she could do for how he spoiled her day in and day out. Her lips curved into a smile. ile.

“No, that should be fine.”

Tara gave a dainty nod. “Of course, Ms. Gallaer. Oh, and Mrs. Dekarios and your mother wish to meet with you tomorrow.”

“For what reason?”

“Because neither have seen you nor Mr. Dekarios in weeks and they are in possession of certain questions regarding the marriage of some rather specific cultural customs.”

Oh, sweet Eilistraee, she did sincerely hope her mother wasn’t trying to arrange a High Hunt in the middle of a city. Surely she had yet to seek out enough followers of the Silver Dancer to organize something like that. Nevermind that there were fewer great beasts to stalk along the Sword Coast than in the Underdark. Good gods, would she attempt to rope Morena into it as well? Wendolyn had the benefit of having inhabited the surface a good deal more years, and as such, had a somewhat better understanding of the fact that not every woman of the humanoid races was a trained warrior than her mother and sisters did.

“Tell them I’ll meet them tomorrow around noon,” she sighed, ears pricking when she heard the approach of nails clicking against hardwood down the stairs, the soft far-off jingle of a collar. “And thank you, Tara.”

“My pleasure, darling.” 

The tressym gave her one last affectionate nuzzle that pressed against her cheekbone, her ear, grazing the pointed tip, before alighting and taking her leave through the nearest open window. Which Wendolyn then shut just as the trail of clacking nails came to a stop, ending in the wide yawn that squealed like an old door’s rusty hinges the likes of which only canines were capable. When the bard turned her attention back to the room, she saw Scratch’s body bowed in a long stretch at the foot of the stairs. It was strange, how satisfying a sight it was to watch a dog ease the tension from its body. 

#tagging games #wip wednesday #i swear gale is coming soon #just had to do some generous setup #bg3 fanfic #wendolyn #drow bard #drow #bard #tara the tressym

[milkteasandstrawberries]

hello once more my dear friends i say as though i have been posting this whole time!! what break in posting?? oops

but yes hello it is me ya girl back again this time bringing you a delightful Iced Tea

check out them pearls!!

today’s tea is one of my current faves: Milky Oolong! this is normally where i’d link to where i got it but apparently i have misremembered and now i have No Idea From Whence This Came which sucks for y’all right now and will suck for me later since as you can see i am running out!! boo hiss!!!

apparently you can get this multiple places so we are not collectively sol but i am still cross!!

anyway!! i did not take a picture of the brewed leaves because i forgot to but the little pearls unroll into delightful whole thin leaves and are very fun to look at and make less of a mess when you miss the trash can when you throw them out!! this was a very scuffed brewing experience

i brewed the first infusion for 8ish minutes and the second infusion for 9?ish? and poured both in a plastic pitcher and shoved that in the fridge for the last few days and now here we are:

the tea is delightful, especially as it warms a bit. fresh from the fridge the first notes are bitter and refreshing and then mellow as you go, but after 10 minutes or so the tea is still cold but you really get the nuttiness characteristic of an oolong, softened further by the silky mouthfeel milky oolong specifically is known for. it tastes like the last days of summer, where the days are getting a little shorter and there’s the barest hint of a chill in the air, like flowers going to seed, like the first blush of red and yellow on a tree, like the dream of fall during the dog days of summer.

if you already like oolongs definitely give this one a try. if you don’t, this one is unlikely to change your mind.

join me next time for something hopefully less scuffed! maybe over the weekend i can do a deep dive into what is actually in the dang ol tea cabinet as an excuse to organize it?? let me know your thoughts.

#tea #rachel drinks tea #loose leaf tea #tea review #seriously this one is a mess all apologies #it won’t be months before my next post i PROMISE

[sablegear0]

I have some Thoughts about the season-ender of Technoroid Overmind. Spoilers to follow obviously

First, it felt like it should have been two episodes. Granted, the whole season felt fast-tracked, I suspect they were only given a dozen episodes worth of space with no plans for a Season 2. But I would have liked to see more elaboration on the escape/Babel infiltration bit, since that’s probably a huge undertaking, actually. I can’t imagine security would be so lax for an event like that, especially with the Exclusionist bloc pulling the strings.

Second, I think they could have done a bit more with the epilogue-y bits/time-skip scenes. If the infiltration plot could have been its own episode, the performance and aftermath could have used more space, too. The short scenes we got lend themselves to some good analysis but I personally would have liked just a bit more material.

I also would have liked to see what Bora and Nobel got up to. Obviously, because I am smitten, (I was robbed of Bora’s emotional awakening scene you jerks) but less obviously because the implied changes were actually pretty subtle until the very end. It was nice they managed to get Bora’s detective partner on board; I think it’s fine to omit that exchange but it could have been an interesting one to see. Especially given Bora’s very brief epilogue. I can make some guesses as to what’s going on there (most likely he’s gone rogue or undercover to dig into the World Government conspiracy, hence fleeing from some random goons) but all we know for sure is he did pick up the Heart patch because he saves a stray dog even while he’s clearly under duress himself. (Which is also a nice callback to the prior episode with the abandoned puppy)

As always I have to gripe that the performances weren’t subtitled. I’m sure they were very moving but come on, guys. It doesn’t have to be an accurately “musical” translation, I just want to know what they’re saying! (Not knowing the language and from a pure performance standpoint, Standalone would have gotten my vote. Oops.)

On reflection, I think Esola encouraging the gang to pursue their own ambitions was a neat choice. Not just for the “make the most of your now-limited time” aspect of it which is explicitly stated, but the fact that the main four were meant to help raise Esola into a “perfect human” - to teach him kindness and creativity and the value of interpersonal bonds. The very fact that he basically says “thanks guys but it’s my turn to care about your wants and needs”/“I love you but I don’t think I need you here now” proves he’s matured according to plan. He’s growing up compassionate and just, and he wants his caretakers to live the lives that we’re taken from them. Really sweet stuff.

Kite’s choice to be an organ donor for his sister felt… bad. But I suppose it’s also the “accurate” end of that story. To have him turn around and suddenly decide that artificial organs are an acceptable substitute would be the “predictable” thing, but his epilogue implies he still has a long way to go before he’ll genuinely accept synths as equals, and I can respect that from a writing perspective. He’s changed, but not completely. (I wonder if he’d make it to a Season 2 if we got one, or if the twins would carry on performing in his absence as just a duo…)

Time-skip Esola really owns the long hair. I wasn’t crazy about the design at first, the way it’s drawn looks very messy, but I can kinda dig it. He looks a lot like his mom, which is absolutely on purpose. I like to think Neon inspired him to let it grow out, they both really rock the fem-leaning look. Congrats for TrOm for not being weird about its gnc characters. (Also yes, casual Bora is very cute, but I feel like he looks better with his headphone-dealies. Is that weird?)

Also what does Nobel actually do? We never get a straight answer out of him. Where does he go at the end of the day? Is he living off a retainer the professor left behind for him? Is he also an upload, or partial upload? We know the Prof experimented on himself, maybe Nobel is some combination of his own partial scans and a procedural learning program like Eliza. But if so, wouldn’t he have had the Heart programming to start with? Why does he treat it like this mysterious thing when reasonably he should also be equipped with it? I know his appeal is in being the mysterious mentor character, so it’s likely we’ll never know for sure.

And another thing- how do we know for sure the Heart patch even works on other consumer models? Bora already tested the main gang by copying their core programming into spares. I thought the fact that the spares didn't act the same way implied the uniqueness was in the hardware, not the programming. Unless the Heart components are not able to be copied, or require a lot of empty space in a drive to function properly (which the spares maybe didn't have?), as mentioned later. If it IS the latter, then isn't patching the Heart programming into every other synth kind of... pointless? We were told that the main four, Bora, the Ritz 9s, and presumably Nobel are unique in having that purposefully empty drive space to accommodate proto-Heart emotional anomalies. So can the Heart programming function without it? I suppose some minor plot holes can be made for the sake of a happier ending.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for now. I won’t lie to you guys, there may be fanfic in the future. Maybe.

#sable talks about media #technoroid overmind #technoroid overmind spoilers #anime

[ursaspecter]

Random DP headcanons in no particular order

I'm tired and got pains hitting me so I couldn't be bothered to organize this. I'll get a better sorted collection up on my neocities website eventually. These are my headcanons and they may contradict canon oops. Also I don't really keep up with a lot of fanon sorry.

-Ok just gonna get all The Gender ones out of the way first. Danny and Vlad are trans men, Sam is bigender, Dani is a demigirl, and Johnny 13 is a he/him lesbian.

-Danny and Valerie are bi, Tucker is ace, and Sam is pan. Vlad and Jack are both bi, and they and Maddie are polyamorous (but not all together. Yet). Jazz is aroace. Star is a lesbian. Johnny 13 and Kitty are lesbians.

-Paulina is a bit of a film buff and I think she would go to film school after high school and judges film bros for not watching a single Barbie movie.

-Star and Dash are cousins

-Tucker has a website where he reviews tech products he's never bought and video games he's never played/completed.

-The ghost zone is kind of like purgatory but also kind of not. It's where ghosts spend the afterlife, but they can fully leave once they've resolved any unfinished business they have. Places in the ghost zone where ghosts reside (like Pariah's castle or Sidney's mirror dimension) are created upon death, so everyone has their own little spot. -Danny and Vlad don't have fully formed places in the zone. They're more like empty lots reserved for them when they fully die. -Dani doesn't have a spot of their own, so instead they took Danny's space and built a little Lost Boys style hideaway.

-The "ecto acne" was really just blisters from severe burns Vlad sustained after his portal accident.

-Danny and Vlad only survived their respective accidents because of their exposure to ectoplasm radiation. Although Vlad had much less exposure at the time of his incident, but that's ok since the 80's portal was much smaller. Danny on the other hand has been exposed to it pretty much all his life, so he was able to survive the full sized portal.

Ok, under the cut I'm gonna go into my thoughts about how most of Danny's enemies died. I won't be including Bertrand, Skulker, Clockwork, Boxlunch, Vortex, Amorpho, Undergrowth, Pandora, or Nocturn because I either think of them as a different kind of ghost, spirits In Charge of something, or in Boxlunch's case: never alive to begin with. I'm also not including Freakshow because he's still alive, nor am I including his ghosts because outside of their designs, they have no personality. Content Warning: Since I am talking about death, this section will probably get pretty dark for some readers. If you are sensitive to discussion of suicide, murder, death from illness, or death by some kind of disaster, then I would advise you to not open it.

I don't really have a lot in terms of explanation for a lot of these, so I'm just gonna list them as Ghost: Cause of Death.

Lunch Lady: Heart Attack at school

Princess Dorathea: The Black Plague

Prince Aragorn: Arsenic poisoning

Box Ghost: Anti-Strike Attack (I'm not going to name any real-world strikes that turned into massacres because I feel like that might be a tad disrespectful)

Technus: Electrocution

Sidney Poindexter: Suicide (He's a teenage ghost who was bullied relentlessly by every one of his peers.)

Desiree: Executed by Sultan's wife's request

Walker: Prison Riot

Spectra: Old Age

Klemper: Hypothermia

Ember: House fire

Fright Knight: Killed in battle

Pariah: Executed in a Coup D'etat

Johnny 13 and Kitty: Killed by a drunk driver

Youngblood: Leukemia

Ghost Writer: Alcohol Poisoning or Tuberculosis

Hotep RA: Natural Causes (Honestly I always forget this guy exists)

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanon

[sansloii]

💜 mentor/mentee 💞 friends with benefits Maybe for Evan and Gabs!

i'd like to offer a blanket apology in advance for anything evan says to this man. gabriele, i am so sorry. i'm also sorry you have to put up with his nonsense but like... a little less sorry about that.

in any case, it is no secret that evan's well of mentor figures or... people that have that kind of influence in his life is near non-existent. the only one that comes anywhere near close is is uncle ( who treats him like a son ) and even then, he's still in the mindset that he is on his own. no matter what cushion he's provided, he has to make it on his own and he will only accept help when he has zero choice in the matter because until roderick got custody of him, he was essentially taking care of himself with maybe a sprinkling of familial love from his parents and what little contact they allowed him to have with his uncle. so he'd be very resistant to any one that wants to step him and help him, even if it's clear they mean well. even now, he doesn't really want that help--which doesn't mean he doesn't need it in some respect. because evan is perfectly content with going the way he's going with his life and with his health until it kills him. and it will.

so all of that is to say that if we want to explore that, it'd be an uphill battle regardless of whether we place it at a point where evan and gabs are both a bit younger or where they're at now in their lives. because evan is notoriously stubborn and will not truly hear anything unless he's challenged on it multiple times.

and as for friends with benefits, evan is significantly less opposed to that, unsurprisingly nhdjfsjdfds-- because the man thinks with his dick and he doesn't really deny that. i do look at gab's history and have a little "oop" moment because of his main verse because evan, in some part, perpetuates and contributes to the endless cycle of violence that the mafia and similar organizations perpetuate. he doesn't directly kill anyone ( that doesn't fuck with him first, that is ) but he's very much the one that is willing to supply the weapons and materials that will most certainly contribute to said killing. and honestly, it's not a matter of if gabriele finds out but when because it'll come and evan will be 100% unrepentant. likewise, i'm just sitting here like "wow it'll be real fucking funny if or when evan finds out who gabriele is and stupid it is to fuck him." and the worst part is that.... i don't know if that'd deter him initially. because he can't just cut contact 'cause that's sus. so like... why not just fuck him one or two more times before gracefully distancing himself (never happens) or sabotaging that relationship in the most dramatic way possible

it's like... how often does that happen, you know. how fucking messy can that get? how are they going to navigate that because i can't even begin to parse how that'll end.

of course, the world is our oyster and we're not restricted to main or default verses. but these are the Thoughts I had.

@distopea | what kinda relationships we talkin' here?

#distopea #ツ ┊ ⧼ catwalk talk ⧽ ⇹ ( ooc. ) #.i wrote a lot more than i thought i would jdfbvdhjfsd-- #.but hiiiiiii #.i look at gabriele and evan and just shake my head #.as i leave them in the sandbox together #.i can already PREDICT the bad decisions that are gonna come from that #.beautifully bad decisions that i will watch with popcorn

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Mistress of the House by A young writer

Anime » Kuroshitsuji Rated: T, French, Romance & Drama, Ciel P., Elizabeth M., Words: 61k+, Favs: 6, Follows: 5, Published: Apr 11, 2019 Updated: Oct 9

11Chapter 13

-x-

The Phantomhive couple were back in Astre's office. The Count was seated in his armchair while his wife had taken her place at his side on a chair brought. In her hands she held a small notebook and a pen.

The young man looked at his watch. "Good. Our discussion lasted longer than I thought." Then put her away, "It's now 6:23 p.m. I've asked Sebastian to dismiss the people I don't need to see urgently. So we only have four appointments left. Since we're in a hurry, you'll just watch. I don't want any comment. Is that clear?" he looked at her sternly. Elizabeth replied with a quick nod of her head. "Good. We should be done by 8:30 p.m. So our supper is extremely staggered. If you're hungry, you endure. No breaks, we don't have time. Any comments?"

The Countess raised her hand.

Her husband sighed. "Yes."

"You are terribly attractive when you work."

Astre's cheeks caught fire at his words. Then, still looking embarrassed, he snatched the notebook from his wife's hands to write. "Very well! First rule! Which I thought you already knew. Compliments to your teacher are forbidden." he gave her back her notebook.

Pouting she asked "Why?"

"We are in a professional environment. When we are in this office we become a teacher and a student. No more no less. If the distances are not respected you will have a minus. And at three minus a punishment."

"What will be the punishment?" she asked slightly worried.

The Count thought for a minute then said "I can't really give you traditional punishments, I'd feel bad. So let's say right now, if you misbehave you can't go to the Venrino ball or go out. with your friends."

Immediately Elizabeth sat up "Okay! I'll be as mute as a carp."

"Perfect! Let's begin."

Time passed quickly. And before she noticed it was already 8:30 p.m. The Countess felt exhausted. Her earlier emotions mixed with the new work hadn't helped her. With a sigh, she allowed herself to relax her posture.

On his side Astre was finishing signing some paper. Then at the sound of the breath his companion had just emitted, his gaze turned to her. "You worked well."

"I only listened..."

"That's what I was saying. You didn't speak, colossal task for your person."

She looked at him in a neutral way, then finding nothing correct to retort the young woman decided to abstain for the moment.

The Count began to organize his office one last time and stood up. "Follow me.". Taken aback Elizabeth complied immediately.

Only, the first step the couple took out of the room, with a smirk and a dramatic air, the countess sighed "At last! How happy I am to see you again my dear husband!" she grabbed her husband's arm "My new teacher is truly atrocious, the worst man I have ever met!"

Rolling her eyes Astre replied "Sorry Madame Phantomhive, I'm still your teacher."

She took a step away "Oops! Know that I didn't think any of that."

Lips curled slightly he nodded. "I don't doubt it."

The two young people arrived in the library, Astre leading them to a section filled with thick folders. He grabbed the ladder attached to the shelf and slid it to the top of the shelf. He climbed to the top and took the second case. The Earl turned to Elizabeth "Catch." Then dropped the file without waiting for his response. Surprised, she rushed to receive it. She stumbled a bit from the sudden weight but had no trouble standing.

Without pause, the young man descended, took the imposing pocket square from his wife's hands, then sat it without delicacy on a nearby table. The Countess followed him in silence with a puzzled look.

He undid the wrapping tape that kept the sheets from flying. His eyes passed line and paper before nodding and muttering "That should do the trick." He took an envelope out of the box and closed it. Astre finally gave a look to the person next to him who was waiting for an explanation. "Good. Water damage and arrived at the Phantom Company's third toy factory. You have three days to fix the problem." then he handed her the letter.

Shocked by this statement Elizabeth could only exclaim "What!"

"Calm down, it's just a show. It's an old story that happened when I must have been... between 12 and 11 years old. In the world of commerce, there is not only exchange and agreement . This kind of thing happens too."

"But I barely know the ABCs of work! Shouldn't I have some simpler exercises first, or even business lessons?"

"The best way to learn theory is by doing." A mocking smile settled on the count's face; he leaned on the table with his left hand, then in a mocking tone continued "Unless you could solve a problem that a child and managed to correct himself? You can always give up if you don't mind. don't think capable."

As Astre had wanted, His wife's pride had been touched. Elizabeth's brow furrowed and with a light of arrogance in her eyes retorted "Mmf! Watch me accomplish in one day what you did in three."

The young man picked up the heavy folder they had left behind and then began to walk out of the library. "Don't be presumptuous Madame Phantomhive."

She followed him "I'm not. It's just water damage, I just have to calculate what was lost; refund and repair!"

"Well, how simple that sounds, I look forward to your response in three days." He closed the door once his wife passed, then the couple walked back to the office of the head of the Phantomhive house.

"I said in one!"

The Count suppresses his laughter. "You can give it back to me first but if you're wrong-"

However he couldn't finish because Elizabeth cut him off "I won't get it wrong! Now give me the file you're holding, so I'll start reading it once under the sheets" she held out her hands to grab the cover.

Only her husband shifted preventing her from seizing it. "You don't honestly think I'm going to offer you the answer, do you?"

Wide eyed she asked "That inch thick folder is the answer?"

"One of the answers. There are always several solutions in business."

The audacity that had taken the young woman by storm earlier began to fade little by little.

This time Astre couldn't prevent a slight chuckle from coming out of her mouth. His wife's unhidden emotions have always been a sight to admire.

Hearing his amusement, the Countess' cheeks flushed with shame and her scowl returned. "Good! I see absolutely no problem with that!" then with her chin raised she headed for their bedroom.

Still smiling, the master of the Phantomhive house informed her before she was out of reach, "Supper will be served in 20 minutes."

"I'll be there!" his wife answered him without delicacy.

She continued stomping to their apartment, and once inside she slammed the double doors with force.

How dare he make fun of her! She, Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Phantomhive! She go show him! We wouldn't turn it into a joke! He had laughed at her! He had laughed at his intellectual abilities! He had laughed at... He had laughed... He had laughed!

The feelings of the countess made a complete turn. Her cheeks red with anger slipped to a pink of amorous joy. His hands went to his cheekbones.

He had sincerely laughed! Not a forced laugh or to put it down. Just a normal reaction to teasing.

The corners of his lips hung up. His heart filled with happiness seemed both heavy and light. As if she were a little girl again, the Countess chuckled. Without restraint she flopped down on their bed, buried her face in her pillow, then kicked her legs on the mattress.

However, a pang of panic overtook her when she remembered that she had to be in the dining room in 20 minutes. Well probably 15 minutes now.

Elizabeth got to her feet, but in her haste the buttons of her shoes got caught in the sheets and caused her to stumble. A few pins fell out of her bun as her forehead hit the ground.

With a groan the young woman straightened up. Her vision blurred by the fall destabilized her, however before falling she managed to cling to the stool of her dressing table. The Countess sat on it, then rubbed her forehead where the impact had been most violent. But something seemed strange. She pulled her fingers away from her face and looked at them. Her mind still turned upside down, Elizabeth did not react immediately. Only, after a few seconds of staring contemplatively at the traces of purple on her pale skin, her eyes widened in horror.

The young woman wasted no time, and quickly turned to her mirror. She eagerly pushed the strands of hair that hid her forehead, then with slightly wet eyes she noticed the terrible scratch that covered her portrait. A few tiny pieces of skin had torn off, letting blood escape from his veins. For the moment there was no other color than red, unfortunately the pain emerging from the area of ​​concussion, indicated that soon purple and yellow would be added to the unsightly mixture.

Why did life have to stop with her.

-0-

A new day was about to begin at the Phantomhive mansion. It was 6:00 in the morning, the sun had not yet pointed the tip of its nose due to the winter period in which England was plunged.

The Countess used to wake up much later, but her husband decided otherwise. After all she had asked him to train her to become the head of Phantom Company.

Well... Not exactly. Elizabeth had asked him to teach her how to help her with her work.

But the count's time was timed by the devil. His end on a son twisted by fate would show a perverse and flawless punctuality.

The Phantomhive house would then collapse with no one left to lead it. However Astre could no longer let his name fall after his revenge accomplished as he had once hoped.

While he idolized death, life in its cynicism had granted him a person to love him. And although good sense had begged him not to yield to his eyes, his selfishness, infatuated with the heart which cherished him, persuaded him to the contrary.

The name Phantomhive no longer belonged to him alone, the young man could not allow himself not to foresee the future. Thus, he would teach Elizabeth everything she needs to continue living without him.

Stopping his internal ramblings, the Count turned his gaze to the woman lying beside him. Then with his right hand gently jostled her. "It's not time to sleep anymore. Wake up." he says softly.

At these actions, his wife groaned, curled up, and sank further into her pillow.

Star looked up at the sky. Then tried another technique. If the words didn't bring it out, the sudden light would. He then turned on his bedside lamp. But she only moaned and covered her eyes with the blanket.

However, he wasn't awake enough himself to start fighting with her yet. It was therefore with a sigh that he lifted his quilt and got out of bed. The young man stretched, went to the bathroom to refresh his face, then when finished pulled the rope * to call Sebastian.

He returned to his room and saw that Elizabeth was still bundled up under the sheets. Yet he decided to ignore her again for now.

The butler arrived and his master ordered him to take out his clothes. He dressed her without haste and to perfection. The servant barely had time to finish tying the Count's shoes, when he was already sending him away, demanding that his breakfast be ready when he asked for it.

Sebastian left, and Astre approached his wife once more. Finding that she was still sleepy, he sat down next to her, then shook her again. "I'm already dressed, and breakfast will soon be served. It will be the only service in the morning, if you don't eat now, you will have to wait until noon."

The countess turned to him, her eyes half-closed. "Why are you so cruel to me..."

"It's already 06:15." her husband answered her in a monotonous tone by pressing his index finger on the bump of her forehead.

The young woman moaned at the painful touch, then sarcastically retorted, "Oh, 6:15 already! I don't want to miss my whole day."

Once again the Count rolled his eyes. "Do as you see fit." then he got up and walked out of their room.

The master of the place went to the dining room of his mansion. As he had ordered the food was installed. He then placed himself at the end of the table as usual. The butler who had been waiting for her served tea to his lord.

A short time later, still in nightwear but with a dressing gown and slippers, Elizabeth joined him.

Seeing his wife's messy state, Astre couldn't help but comment, "You could have at least combed your hair."

"I could also have stayed in bed." she answered him before taking a sip of her tea.

The rest of their breakfast passed peacefully, the Earl not usually being a very talkative person and his wife still troubled by sleep.

-0-

Time flew by. The Phantomhive couple working on their own. The young man continued his business late and neglected, and the Countess lingered on her duty. Several times she went to see her husband for certain information that she could only have obtained through the workers at the factory during the incident.

To this he complimented her. Happy that she had understood that she should not be content with the information that was given to her.

Of course, he was careful that his answers only answered his questions from the perspective of a realistic staging.

So, it was now 9 p.m. They had just finished their meal, and were both in Astre's office. The latter was inspecting the work that his wife had just returned to him.

She who was proud of the praise of the one she loved, feared now that she had forgotten things in her calculations.

For her the silence had become unbearable. Seeing her husband's searching blue eye on her handwriting twisted her insides.

Then after a sigh he looked at her. Heart pounding, Elizabeth awaited her verdict.

"It's not bad. The number of pounds paid for the repair of the factory seems acceptable. You have thought of a marketing plan to repay the loans, and you have not forgotten the employees. Which is very important , the neglected would cause us a much greater loss than what we had at the base. Their discontent would lead us to a scandal and the scandal to a bankruptcy. But you did not include our partners. After all, those who give us the materials will also suffer from this tragedy. Nevertheless, it could have been worse, for a trivial water damage."

The young woman, her throat tight, inquired "What's wrong then?"

A smug look permeated the count's face. "Do you know how many pounds I've spilled on this case?"

She swallowed her saliva and in an uncertain voice answered "No... But by your look I deduce that this is, much, less than what I proposed."

"Very insightful." he put down the file, and formed with the fingers of his right hand an o. "I haven't spent a penny my dear."

Elizabeth's eyes widened "That's not possible! How did you do it!" she said angrily.

Stopping a laugh, Astre answered "I gave you the sketch and the photo of the crushed and damaged pipes, didn't I?"

"Yes and so!"

"Did you notice anything strange?"

"Stop beating around the bush and give me a concrete answer!" the young woman came forward.

Still smiling, the Count complied with his order "First day, during the morning, discovery of the damage. No rust, and yet the pipes have collapsed. Strange isn't it."

The Countess' cheeks blushed with embarrassment noticing her capital mistake. The possibility that it had been something other than normal water damage hadn't even crossed his mind. A wave of shame washed over her and she found herself angry with herself.

However, her husband hadn't finished explaining everything to her, and seeing his wife's cheekbones color, he couldn't help adding even more mockery to his tone. "Opening of an investigation. Several people suspected, unsurprisingly. Only the evidence against a rival company is piling up. I then file a complaint against them. Third days, the debate and judgment. Result, guilty, they must reimburse all of the costs."

Crossing her arms like a child, the young woman protested "It's not possible! The investigation and the judgment are too fast. It should have taken you several months at least!"

Still smug, he continued, "I know, just being the queen's watchdog has its downsides."

Elizabeth took the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her index finger, then blew. "Good. I was wrong all along! I accept my defeat." and with a heavy step she headed out of the office.

"Tired already?" Astre asked her while following her.

"To see you strutting around, yes."

"Me! Strutting!."

"Yes, you! You brag."

Arrived in front of their room, the young man opened the door to his wife. "But what can I even brag about?"

However she decided not to answer him and walk straight to the bathroom. Astre was going to continue to tease her, only she cut her taunts short by slamming the door in her face.

Anger still coursing through her veins, she brutally tried to undo the buttons on the back of her dress. Only they were too small and too numerous. She didn't want to see Mey-rin in her current state, then she would have to use her button hook. She looked in the drawers near the sink but he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there! The Countess scolded herself. Their servant had used it this morning for her mistress's shoes, and the latter had told her to leave it on the vanity.

So by opening the door violently, the young woman left the bathroom to rush to her dressing table. She found the hook and without waiting to be alone again, Elizabeth took off her buttons. It worked extremely well, because by the way, barely had she reached half of his back, she had torn off one of the buttons.

Before she could do any more damage, her husband stopped her by taking the hook from her hands.

She immediately turned to him, and said "What else is there!"

The count's smug look was gone, replaced by a worried look. "Calm down Elizabeth."

"I am perfectly calm!"

He gently grabbed her shoulders then gently turned her to face his back. Then with great care, undid the buttons of her dress. "If it was me who pissed you off, I'm sorry."

The kindness of his companion reduced his anger. "It's not just you." a few seconds of silence passed. "Of course I wasn't happy that you were laughing at me! But I'm mostly ashamed."

Astre had finished removing the fasteners from his wife's dress, yet neither of them moved.

"Honte?"

"I was being cocky! I told you I could fix this problem in a day. And I failed miserably..."

"You didn't fail. If it had been normal water damage you would have done pretty well."

"But it wasn't!"

"It was your first drill. You couldn't do it perfectly the first time."

"But..." running out of retort, she sighed. "You're probably right. Never mind, I'll do better next time!" his last sentence had a hint of joy.

Elizabeth turned to her husband and smiled at him. He returned the gesture, then suddenly his lips turned in a frown. His cheeks were flushed, and he was avoiding her gaze.

At first the young woman was confused. She was going to question him, but the Count took a step back, straightened up and coughed.

He was trying to look her straight in the eye, yet his body didn't seem to want to completely obey him.

He coughed again, and finally spoke "So, as a reward for a job well done, or well done at least. I mean done! Done!" Star let out a breath, hoping her nerves would calm down. "And as punishment because I'm a terrible teacher..." he momentarily forgot what he meant and stammered out his next words. "And-and for probably tons of other reasons. I invite you; no; I declare you; No! I ask you."

Seeing the one she loved, he who always had a dignified and noble air encompassing his person, so nervous towards her, made her want to laugh. However, the Countess could not stop her curiosity from growing in the face of her husband's behavior. And then refrained from interrupting him.

Then in a whisper she heard him say, "I accept the Venrino invitation."

At first she was shocked. Star agreeing to go with her to a party! It would finally be their official date together as a Phantomhive couple. Elizabeth couldn't believe it. She felt compelled to ask him if she had heard correctly.

"You come with me..." the young woman whispered breathlessly.

"Yes..." he nodded, avoiding her eyes.

"Really?" she asked again with more enthusiasm, her eyes shining with joy.

"Yes." the count always repeated red.

A wave of heat crossed the body of the young woman. The corners of his lips were lifted so high it looked like they could never come down again.

Without further ado, she closed the distance her husband had created, and hugged him tightly.

Still embarrassed by her previous announcement, Astre did not return her embrace right away, and remained completely frozen for a few seconds with her heart beating. Then, gradually he relaxed, and in turn covered the bust of the Countess with his own arms.

-x-

wow! It's finish.

I hate this chapter but I got where I wanted to get. And the content could have been worse. I know it sounds impossible, but believe me, it could have.

On the other hand the next chapter will be crispy! I'm telling you. *bitch laugh*

As usual: feel free to leave a comment, sorry for the mistakes. If you see any let me know! (I'm uploading it now but I'll recheck tomorrow morning for mistakes. I really wanted to put it to you now. Again dsl for the wait)

14

-x-

After three long days of waiting, during which Elizabeth apologized a thousand times to Mr. Connor for not being able to keep his promise to accompany her, the evening organized by the Venrino finally arrived.

The count was already ready and was waiting for his wife in the hall. Slightly annoyed with the wait, he continued to pull out his pocket watch to check the time, even though he didn't really mind being late. Then after another few minutes, the Countess finally decided to show herself.

The deep green velvet dress that showcased her beauty had a minimalist design; but this was counterbalanced by the long drapes of her skirt stretching as far as the eye could see behind her, accompanied by a choker and a necklace of pure white pearls.

Looking at her thus under the lights that her home gave her, her wife shone through her eyes. Despite his feelings, the master of the house, being too afraid to make a fool of himself by trying to compliment her, preferred to inspect his watch again and then put on his crushing fur coat and his top hat.

The young woman arrived in front of her husband, and their butler helped her put on her heavy cape.

Star inhaled, and in a breath said "Fine. Let's go."

Sebastian opened the door, and the other servants were on the landing wishing their lords a pleasant evening. The couple got into their car, and once comfortably seated the Count knocked the handle of his cane twice on the box, signaling Sebastian to bring the horses to a walk. So off they went to the Venrino home.

The road was rocky, slippery, and much more covered in snow than the demon tailcoat had predicted. This lengthened the journey by another hour. This somewhat embarrassed the Countess. She didn't want to shame the Phantomhive name by arriving late; then full of anxiety she could not help sharing her fears with her husband. The latter who in a disinterested way always answered him with the same monosyllable.

Then to the great relief of the count who would no longer have to hear his wife babbling about the importance of punctuality; their car finally reached the Venrino castle.

Although the Venrinos had no noble origins, the domain they had bought was worthy of the greatest Men. The residence having been built by French people of blue blood in the course of the 18th century, the whole building had been built in the Baroque and Rococo styles.

The Phantomhive couple walked through the front door and were immediately greeted by the house butler who ordered a valet and a maid to take their coats. The servant then led them to the reception hall and then directly to the host.

The young man hadn't really had a reaction while walking among the crowd. Maybe a polite smile or two in response to a person who benefits him. But the bored glint in his eyes immediately turned to anger when he caught a glimpse of James Connor's infamous flirtatious smile alongside the couple who were welcoming them.

"Oh, you finally came! We're afraid we don't see you." the lady of the premises proclaimed, which redirected Astre's gaze to her. Without waiting, he snapped a hand kiss at Mrs. Venrino and a shallow bow in the direction of Mr. Venrino shivering in his wheelchair.

"We ask that you forgive us for being late." the count answered before his eye returned to the archaeologist. "I did not expect to have the honor of meeting you again Mr. Connor..."

The air around the five figures felt heavy for a moment. The loud chatter, like a gentle wave, turned into a whisper. And even the guests on the dance floor had slowed down their waltz to listen. Not one person around them had missed Phantomhive's undisguised aversion to the American.

James, who was used to crowds staring at him, felt unbalanced. But knowing he hadn't done anything wrong yet, he spoke fearlessly "Me neither, Earl. And you see me delighted..." Connor's eyes moved to Elizabeth " Because your presence here means the happiness of a friend who is dear to me." he advanced two steps towards the Countess. With extreme slowness took her hand, then going far beyond the limits of propriety, executed a hand kiss without his gaze wavering from the emerald eyes of the young woman. "Tonight again, you shine, Madame la Comtesse. Your dress is magnificent. But I think, and allow me to border on the certainty, that this dress only has brilliance thanks to your beauty.

Blushing slightly at his deeds and choice of words, Elizabeth hastily removed her hand from her friend's. "Your compliment goes straight to my heart and delights me. However, the hours of this evening have already turned somewhat, and I have the impression that you have accompanied time with drink. Your mind must be foggy... she cleared her throat, then continued "So, while your words are kind, I would recommend, in all friendship, to weigh them more heavily before speaking them."

The room, which was silent to the actions of the archaeologist, was suddenly pierced by a burst of female laughter. Heads turned in sync to the source of the voice, and unsurprisingly the owner was none other than the buxom mistress of the place. Her laughter calmed her down a bit. "Ah, Elizabeth! You're so sweet." taking the above-mentioned by the arm, Madame Venrino dragged her with her, moving away with a languorous step from the gentlemen. "So let's leave his men alone and go to a company that will be more agreeable to us." before being completely out of sight, with a mischievous smile the lady took a last look between James and Astre "Mister Connor was telling us about one of his adventures. A particularly interesting one..." and so she left them.

Little by little the jovial discussions resumed their course, and the tension was quickly forgotten for superficial chatter accompanied by dancing.

The Earl then headed towards the sideboard trying to get away from James, however the latter ignored the nobleman's wish and followed. Astre decided not to react and asked a valet for a glass of white wine. The young man was prepared for the American to ask him questions, make him compliments, innocuous remarks, an ironic comment intended to belittle him, even a direct insult. Yet nothing comes. The two adults remained side by side without saying a word. This intrigued the count, but suspecting that the one accompanying him wanted him to start the conversation, it was out of the question for him to play his game. So he remained silent, which suited him greatly.

Only, a voice both familiar and foreign sounded "Phantomhive!". The above-named directed his gaze towards the origin of the call. He then saw Joanne Harcourt appear. Astre saw that he hadn't changed too much, except for his voice, a slight growth spurt and his hair twisted into a braid.

Grateful for the help that the young man had given him in the past he spoke to him with a slight smile "Harcourt, it's been a long time. I heard that you were married shortly after me. Excuse me for the congratulations late."

"It's nothing. I'm glad to see you've managed to take some time out to get out into the world." Unable to help noticing the thicker-built man behind Astre smiling at him, slightly hesitantly he asked "And who is that nice man by your side?"

The Count no longer took the trouble to smile. Without feigning discretion, he eyed James for a second, then with an air of indifference and a dry laugh declared "Nice man?". One of his caustic responses was on the tip of his tongue. However, remembering that now the name Phantomhive no longer just represented his person; not wanting to harm the life of his wife by his behavior; he refrained, and with a clenched jaw, decided to do as his friend had asked him "James Connor... An archaeologist from America."

"And doctor in my spare time!" Merrily continued the robust individual. At which Astre rolled her eyes then took a sip of her wine.

"Oh, sure. I've heard a lot about you. You're Baron Rosemary's friend, right? I'm Count Joanne Harcourt. Nice to meet you." as he finished his sentence he held out his hand.

Connor took it confidently and shook it once firmly. "Also Sir Count. I too have heard of you personally. If I am not mistaken, I have heard from the Rosemary sisters that you and your wife were expecting a happy event."

"In effect!" replied Joanne cheerfully. "We are praying for a boy.". Then whispering, he repeated "We really pray..."

The slight desperation in his eyes did not escape the young man with the eye patch. It seemed he wasn't the only one repelled by the idea of ​​conceiving children. Although their reasons were all different, the result was the same. The Count felt empathy for her; therefore he decided to try to get away from the subject of heirs.

Unfortunately, his plans were thwarted. Before he had a chance to say a word, the American spoke, "Fantastic! We'll be praying for you too." then he turned his attention to the smaller man "I would also take the opportunity to address some prayer to you. If only for a child to come."

Swirling his beverage gently in his glass, and not deigning to return the gaze that was trying to pierce him, Astre calmly replied, "Don't waste your litanies on me. The saints seem to abhor me as much as their God." He finished his cup of wine, and set the empty container on the tray of a nearby servant. Then with a smirk, he finally decided to direct his eye to Connor. "Pray instead to Satan. He has unconditional love for me." The two men accompanying him remained in a heavy silence. The Count, glancing at the incredulous faces surrounding him, took advantage of the indigestible atmosphere he had created with sadistic pleasure. Then he continued "Come on gentlemen, I was only joking." so Joanne and James let an embarrassed laugh escape their mouths, trying at all costs to make their discomfort go away. "The devil is only waiting for the day when he can devour my soul. If I have a child, it is he who will kill me and not the devil. He would be greatly disappointed, don't you think?". He really tried not to be incorrect, but the scion of the Phantomhive family couldn't help but want to end on an inappropriate topic. Having now accomplished his goal of making the archaeologist uneasy again. Slowly, hands clasped behind her back, Astre walked away to a place where he wouldn't have to see him anymore. If I have a child, it is he who will kill me and not the devil. He would be very disappointed, wouldn't you think?" making the archaeologist uncomfortable again.” Slowly, hands clasped behind her back, Astre walked away to a place where he would no longer have to see him. If I have a child, it is he who will kill me and not the devil. He would be very disappointed, wouldn't you think?" making the archaeologist uncomfortable again.” Slowly, hands clasped behind her back, Astre walked away to a place where he would no longer have to see him. uncomfortable archaeologist. Slowly, hands clasped behind her back, Astre walked away to a place where he wouldn't have to see him anymore. uncomfortable archaeologist. Slowly, hands clasped behind her back, Astre walked away to a place where he wouldn't have to see him anymore.

Meanwhile, the night continued.

-x-

It's shorter than usual. But I thought it was the right time to end this chapter.

I will try to write faster!

As usual sorry for the mistakes; Feel free to leave a comment;

Kisses, kisses, and see you soon!

15

-x-

It had been an hour since Earl Phantomhive had been separated from his wife. He had seen her from afar talking with more than half of the guests and her smile never failed. At this he mentally raised a toast to her.

Astre really had trouble understanding his wife's infatuation with crowded rooms. Especially for this one...

Although he was in partnership with Mr. Venrino, that did not prevent him from feeling a deep aversion for the couple who owned the place. If Elizabeth hadn't had a fondness for them, the young man wouldn't have made the slightest effort to get closer, and even less to set foot in their house again.

Although the couple could be extremely charming on the outside, everyone present knew what was going on once their reception was over. And they were very popular for that. The evenings delivered in alcohol, opium and lust. The favorite nights of the "nobles" of England.

Luckily not all the guests attended. Why would they come then? To laugh at those who obviously enjoy it! Because it is well known that what only looks is better than what participates.

Lost in his gloomy thoughts, Astre had not heard his wife arrive at his side. "Hello!" she greeted bouncing with happiness with a light pat on her shoulder.

Her sudden appearance startled him slightly. Then noticing the countess' radiant look, her lips curved gently into a small smile. "I'm glad to see that the evening seems to be to your liking."

Elizabeth let out a weak chuckle before answering "She's not exactly to my taste, but she's certainly far from completely displeasing to me.". Then she sipped from the punch glass she had in her right hand.

At this last gesture, the Count gave his wife a skeptical look. He had already seen her drink two, three times of this drink; and knowing his alcohol tolerance to be low, that didn't really reassure him.

Obviously, the young woman did not miss her husband's preoccupied attention towards her. So somewhat mockingly, she reassured him, "You can take the glint of distress out of your eye. There's no alcohol in this concoction." then in the hollow of the ear of the one she loved, whispered "And frankly the taste is felt."

He laughed lightly at her remark, then followed "If you don't like it why do you keep drinking?"

"It's the only refreshment available that doesn't contain alcohol." then being near the buffet, Elizabeth grabbed an appetizer.

"You only had one glass of champagne. You can afford another one."

With a teasing look, his wife continued "How do you know I only took one cup? Did you spend all our time apart spying on me?"

Astre's cheeks sprinkled with purple. He cleared his throat, "What else could I have done? The company around us isn't really my favorite..."

"You could have admired the ceiling." she mimed her words, directing her eyes to the paintings. "I've always really liked this rococo style. I find the colors very romantic."

The count followed his wife, however without much joy "Mmh, I don't know. If I wanted to see naked men I would go to a brothel."

At that statement the Countess quickly turned her attention back to her husband with a protest stuck in her throat, then playfully slapped his shoulder.

They both tried to contain their laughter while downing their drinks. Then after a few sips the couple calmed down. A comfortable silence settled.

Gently resting her empty glass on the table next to them the young woman exchanged it for a flute of champagne "I had only taken one glass because I wanted to drink the second with you." her cheekbones blushing, she took a step closer to her husband.

With a mocking smile he replied "We have nothing to celebrate though." Astre mimicked the gestures of her companions by replacing her glass of wine with a glass of champagne.

"Let's see! You left the mansion for something other than business. If it's not to celebrate nothing is."

At her mockery, still with a crooked smile, the young man rolled his eyes; of course, more for good measure than real annoyance.

Elizabeth held out her flute towards her husband. He accepted her silent request, clashing crystal against crystal, then the couple took a sip without taking their eyes off them.

In a short silence, they drifted their gazes towards the dance floor, before the countess spoke again "Did you learn any interesting things?"

"I guess that's your way of telling me you have some gossip you want to share with me. If so, skip the politeness and tell me directly."

It was the young woman's turn to roll her eyes, however his comment had sincerely upset her somewhat. But that didn't last long, and she immediately began to articulate, "Did you know that the Harcourt couple were expecting a child?" it was a fake question, she didn't really expect an answer from him. And the count having understood this, said nothing and let her continue. "The couple are praying for a boy; however Mrs. Harcourt mentioned that although it would be better to have a boy, she had always wanted a little girl. I then replied that devoted as they are to the lord they would have all the time in the world and the blessing of the saints to receive both. Only...", she paused for a moment, approached her husband enough to tie his arm with his, then resumed, whispering "Only, she told me that she does not think she has the strength required to give birth to more than one child. Yet she is a woman in perfect health, and when she asked me about her words she seemed strange to me. I am sure then that she lied to me." Then Elizabeth resumed in a normal tone, "Of course I don't hold it against her, we all have our secrets. Nevertheless I wonder what she can be hiding from me? She seemed really in distress..." she drunk a sip of her champagne then resumed whispering "And then Madame Venrino made a most appalling comment!" stated that she does not think she has the strength required to give birth to more than one child. Yet she is a woman in perfect health, and when she asked me about her words she seemed strange to me. So I'm sure she lied to me." Then Elizabeth resumed in a normal tone, "Of course I don't hold it against her, we all have our secrets. However, I wonder what she can be hiding from me? She seemed really distressed..." she took a sip of her champagne then began to whisper again "And then Madame Venrino made a most appalling comment!" stated that she does not think she has the strength required to give birth to more than one child. Yet she is a woman in perfect health, and when she asked me about her words she seemed strange to me. So I'm sure she lied to me." Then Elizabeth resumed in a normal tone, "Of course I don't hold it against her, we all have our secrets. However, I wonder what she can be hiding from me? She seemed really distressed..." she took a sip of her champagne then began to whisper again "And then Madame Venrino made a most appalling comment!" So I'm sure she lied to me." Then Elizabeth resumed in a normal tone, "Of course I don't hold it against her, we all have our secrets. However, I wonder what she can be hiding from me? She seemed really distressed..." she took a sip of her champagne then began to whisper again "And then Madame Venrino made a most appalling comment!" So I'm sure she lied to me." Then Elizabeth resumed in a normal tone, "Of course I don't hold it against her, we all have our secrets. However, I wonder what she can be hiding from me? She seemed really distressed..." she took a sip of her champagne then began to whisper again "And then Madame Venrino made a most appalling comment!"

Astre cut her off in a flat tone, "Watch out Lizzy, this might start to interest me."

The Countess' eyebrows creased and she gave her husband a disgruntled look, but her remark did not stop her from continuing, "I was saying!... Madame Venrino made an appalling comment... She told Madame Harcourt that if she was unable to afford the number of children her husband wanted, he would be quite comfortable going to have them elsewhere." wide-eyed the young woman spoke to her companion "Don't you find that revolting!"

"Oh yes, of course." the count followed without his voice expressing the slightest feeling.

"Naturally, despite my fondness for Madame Venrino, I couldn't let her talk to a friend like that. Especially since Madame Harcourt is a countess while Madame Venrino has no title. If it wasn't for her marriage fortunate she would never have left her modest life as an accountant's daughter." she finished her cup then put it on the tray of a passing servant, "Finally... Let's go back to what happened."

"Yes, I would be sorry if I missed that." he conferred with indifference.

"After our host's insult to Madame Harcourt, I wanted to say something just as abject to her. She really didn't deserve to have her honor flouted like that! But I refrained... with great difficulty I admit...". The storyteller sneered, "After all that Madame Harcourt told me my face was so red I could have been mistaken for a tomato! Oh, but I digress again!"

"Yes, concentrate a bit please."

Instead of scolding him for another of his sarcasms, Elizabeth asked, "Can you pass me the plate of hors d'oeuvres please."

He complied and handed her the tray, she took an appetizer and before putting the dish down Astre did as his wife did. Only, unlike the latter, he hadn't liked the taste of the food at all. He swallowed with difficulty the bite he had crunched, then his nose wrinkled in disgust, he gave an annoyed look to the young woman at his side. She suppressed a laugh seeing his expression.

They acted at the same time, discreetly the couple checked around them if anyone was watching them. Not noticing anyone, without needing to meet the other's eyes, the Countess opened her mouth and her husband placed the toast in it.

A knowing smile in silence, and the count's wife remembered that she hadn't finished her story. "Where was I?"

"You were red?"

"No before."

"You were going to insult Madame Venrino."

She tapped him on the shoulder, "No exactly! After his comment to Madame Harcourt, I preferred to reassure the Countess instead. I then said something along the lines of: Don't worry. He must not have kind of the Count your husband to stoop to that sort of thing."

"And that helped her?"

"Not really, but at least Madame Venrino didn't have the last word."

At this Astre raised her eyes to the sky.

Anger rose to her cheeks at this action, "Oh believe me! I would have liked to tell her: that when you have a husband three times -what a child; reason yells at you not to speak up. Only we can't hear it unless we have it in the first place."

For a moment her mate looked at her in surprise, "Well, why didn't you tell her. I would have run to your side just for the entertainment of seeing her overly made-up face get offended." he's laughing.

Still slightly pissed off, his wife replied, "I heard you've humiliated and hurt more than half the guests already. at the invite."

"Don't make me hope." murmured the count. He expected her to respond with a moan, only nothing came. He turned his attention to her, and looked where her eyes seemed focused. He realized then that she was watching the dance floor.

"You saw, Leon is dancing with our host."

In an uninterested voice he answered "Leon?"

"The Baron Rosemary!"

"Oh yes."

A silence passed where the two only admired the waltzing couples.

Then the young woman cut him off, "When I think he's been madly in love with her since he was 15."

"Who?" Astre asked confused.

"But Leon!"

"Ah... Who is he in love with?"

"But from Madame Venrino!"

"Oh..." the young man gazed further at the dancing couple, "He has bad taste."

"Do you think so? Madame Venrino is a beautiful woman though."

"Of course. Beautiful woman perhaps, but beautiful lady far from it. Well, I suppose that when we are stupid we are attracted by the stupid ones."

"Oh I disagree. The Baron is a very cultured person!"

"To know everything does not mean to understand everything."

She rolled her eyes "You play with words to be right." with a smirk she continued "Maybe you're just jealous of Leon?"

"Jealous?" the young man replied skeptically.

"Yes, jealous. Like all the other men around this room. After all Madame Venrino is a great beauty. Perhaps you would like to be the one to hold her in your arms?"

The Count laughed, "I minutes you just wanted to take her by the neck, and now you find all the qualities in her. Maybe you shouldn't have taken that champagne after all."

The young woman shrugged, "My feelings don't change a person's appearance."

"Yes, but the behavior of this said person can greatly change his appearance."

"I understand where you are coming from. Only, a beautiful person can be boorish, it will not change that he is beautiful. Sometimes we even excuse his faults at the expense of his beauty."

"And we have a great example of that tonight."

Once again a comfortable silence settled. The two nobles quietly continuing to watch the dancers.

However, the count happened to be a little less calm. Several times during the evening he had seen his wife stare down at the waltzing couples. And he knew that Elizabeth loved dancing as much as he preferred to be at home reading a book by the fireplace.

His hands were getting sweaty. Despite the fact that they had already danced together countless times, asking her still made her heart race with nervousness.

So taking a shallow breath he turned to the woman beside him "When the music stops, will you start the next dance with me?"

While smiling she replied "Oh, no thank you, I'll be fine."

"Mmh, fine." He nodded. Only it was only after a while that he really understood what his wife had just said.

She had just declined an offer to dance. She had never refused to dance. Even when someone she didn't know asked her she always accepted; which had earned him more than once the remonstrances of Madame la Marquise Midford.

Astre wondered at first if he had made a mistake to provoke such a reaction. But remembering that the countess was a person who wears her heart on her sleeve, he would have immediately seen if she had seemed angry when she refused him.

Careful that his wife didn't catch him inspecting her condition, he looked her up and down.

He noticed that her cheeks hadn't lost their scarlet color for a long time. When she had come to join him her cheeks were already shining with a deep pink; being in a room full of people, Astre attributed it to the heat and gave it no more thought than that. Although he had teased her about alcohol, Elizabeth was not drunk enough to be drunk and her attitude was far from someone who would have lost his mind over drink.

Maybe she didn't want to push him? She knew he didn't particularly like dancing. But despite all his thoughts, it remains the first time that his wife refuses a pleasure he offers to give her.

The questions spinning in his mind, the young man sighed. If he wanted to make sure of her well-being, he just had to ask her. Even if the countess decided to answer him with a lie, the latter not being gifted in this art, he would see it immediately.

"Elizabeth, are you feeling well?"

Slightly surprised the aforementioned turned to him, then with the worst fake smile that ever existed, nodded "I couldn't feel better!"

With an air of displeasure the Count took her hand and said, "We are leaving."

Unsurprisingly, his wife holds him there. "No! I assure you that everything is fine. I'm only a little warm. Why don't we go and drink something cold instead? Oh, I know! You haven't tasted the fruity drink yet. Madam Venrino said it was a special concoction for tonight."

So she dragged him over to the table where a large silver-topped crystal bowl lay filled with a salmon-colored liquid with slices of lemons floating here and there.

With a judgmental eye Star spy on the mixture, while the young woman who accompanied him filled two glasses with the ladle which had been placed next to it.

Once finished she handed one of the two cups to her husband. The latter who grabbed the offered concoction hesitantly then slowly took a sip.

The first seconds the liquid was special. A little less thick than a soup but fresh and fruity. It was actually quite enjoyable. But once swallowed, there was still an infamous aftertaste in the mouth.

The count looked at his wife and flatly said, "It's despicable."

His comment made her laugh, "Isn't it!" then she went on drinking all the same.

Not to be rude, he took a second sip. However this time he inspected the taste more thoroughly. This harsh and bitter smell that emanated from the mixture was not completely foreign to him. Only he couldn't remember where he had smelled it before...

He was sure it wasn't poison or more than half of the guests would already be dying.

On his guard the young man asked his companion "Are you sure you feel nothing more than heat?"

Alternating between looking at the ground and in the eye of the one she loved, she knew that it was useless to lie to Astre. So slightly embarrassed she replied quietly "I feel sensitive..."

"Sensitive?... Could you elaborate?"

Clearing her throat, Elizabeth said, "I didn't know you were also trained in medicine..."

Long out of a playful mood, he snapped, "I asked you to elaborate."

Still without looking at him, her face redder than a poppy, she approached her husband, then hesitantly leaning towards his ear to confess "I burn when someone touches me."

This simple sentence made the count's senses jump. Then the wide-eyed at the blissful move, like a flash the origin of the infamous taste of the drink comes back to him.

Seething with embarrassment and rage, he snatched the glass from his wife's hand. Then slamming the containers down on the table, he swore under his breath.

Angry, he gripped the Countess's wrist tightly, and hurriedly headed for the exit.

He would have managed to get away, if it hadn't been for the sudden appearance of Madame Venrino. "Well Phantomhive, you seem pissed off? Which isn't really surprising when you know who you are, but it would be unwelcome of me if I didn't ask what's wrong with you."

Eyes shining with distress, Elizabeth watched helplessly as her husband glared at them.

"You..." Astre fumed. "I did not think I would have to remind you that I have a title. And that by obligation to be of a class much higher than yours; even if I admit that it is easy to be above you, and in more ways than one; you must pronounce my title when you address me. With my date I offer you the opportunity to learn how to behave in a respectable manner until our next meeting. ."

Without showing the slightest feeling of annoyance the lady continued lightly "Are you leaving already?"

The young man decided not to answer her, to bypass her and head towards the entrance hall empty of everyone.

Embarrassed but also helpless in the face of her husband's action, the young woman tore her wrist from the grip of the count. Then turning towards their host with a look seeking grace, she said "We ask you to excuse our sudden departure. Monsieur le Comte, my husband is only concerned about my well-being."

"Do you not feel well?" Madam Venrino asked, her eyes rimmed with care.

Astre wanted at all costs that the countess stops wanting to discuss with the lady of the place. So again he tried to pull his wife away from that place. But she was physically much stronger than him, so she easily avoided him. "Yes I feel a little feverish. But nothing alarming I assure you."

And like magic, the buxom Madame Venrino seemed to understand the situation. With a smirk, she followed, "That doesn't surprise me. You've been drinking a lot after all."

The latter's statement troubled Elizabeth. And for a moment she was afraid that someone lied to her about the content of her drink "You had me certify that there was no alcohol?..."

The lady laughed, "Oh Elizabeth you're so cute when you're devoid. But putting that sullen face away, I can assure you there isn't even a single drop of alcohol in the drink you you sipped all evening."

"Shut up!" exploded the count. Pushing his wife behind him, jaw clenched and eyes inflamed with anger; he addressed Madame Venrino barely an inch from her face "Know that if you hadn't been a lady both of your knees would have already been broken by the handle of my cane."

"Star!" scolded the young woman.

Only, once again, lips painted deep red replied after a sneer, "Don't worry my dear. I'm an open-minded person...I can understand that the pleasures of an aphrodisiac are not to everyone's taste."

-x-

TIN TIN TIN!

I wanted to finish cash. If you don't like that kind of rough ending to a chapter let me know.

If there are any visible mistakes, please let me know!

Thanks for reading; sorry for the spelling mistakes; and thank you for your support it makes me very happy!

Bonuses:

I TELL MY LIFE (share yours too if you want)

I HAD MY FIRST YEAR OF FAC IN HISTORY OF ART AND ARCHEOLOGY! YOUHOU!

With honors quite well in addition! This is the first time I have a mention!

And suddenly as I had turned to archeology in the second semester I will stay in this sector next year.

I am so happy. *dance of joy*

And how are you doing?

16

-x-

On the frozen and muddy roads, the Phantomhive couple's car was on its way to their mansion. Inside the transport, in an oppressive atmosphere, the Countess had distanced herself as much as possible from her husband and stared fervently at the outside; while the count remained motionless, the eye wandering on all surfaces, not knowing how to lighten the weight weighing on his companion.

The rapid breathing of the young woman echoed on the four walls. His hands were tweaking the velvet fabric of her dress, trying to distract herself from the fiery feelings that only sickened her. Moreover, her toilet which had become too hot for her body, Elizabeth thought of removing her cape. But already ashamed enough to feel her skin burning with desire, she didn't want to disgust her lover any more than she probably already did, stripping lightly.

But she couldn't have been more wrong. Astre's feelings were many; but the only disgust that invaded him was directed towards the person who made his wife drink the poison.

Several times the young man saw his companion change position. He knew how to relieve her, but he couldn't. In the first place, the Earl knew that if he tried, Elizabeth would blame herself for taking him to such extremes. Second, he would also be distressed; feeling like he would take advantage of his condition for his own pleasure. Just the thought gave him nausea and the irresistible urge to mutilate himself.

Coming out of her thoughts, Astre directed her gaze towards the hands of the Countess. This is how he noticed that the shaking of the cabin was not only due to the bumpy road, but also by the excessive tremors of the young woman's legs.

This intrigued him. As potent as the concoction was, it couldn't create such a spasm. And that's when the count understood. His jerks weren't triggered by a reaction to the poison but by panic.

The countess had just drunk the aphrodisiac against her will. It seemed obvious that she was going to be overwhelmed by these uncontrolled emotions.

So obsessed with the effects of the concoction, the young man did not consider that his reactions could be produced by anything other than the drink. Astre had never felt more stupid than at this moment.

He directed his gaze back to his wife's face. He could clearly see that she was trying hard to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, his body was so tense that his jaw muscles were sticking out, indicating enough of his state of distress.

Seeing her like this made her heart feel heavier. Overwhelmed by his impotence, he could no longer do anything. So wanting to at least try to reassure her, gently he put his right hand on Elizabeth's.

Only, the contact sent shivers down his spine. Sickened by what she was feeling, a glint of horror in her eyes, she snatched her hand from his proximity and cried "Don't touch me!"

Instead of being angry at her reaction, the Earl looked at her sadly. He certainly didn't know what it was like to feel a carnal desire so powerful that it would force you to perform the deed. Nevertheless, he knew only too well the terror experienced when you cannot escape your fear.

However, the Countess, unlike him, is a person who seeks comfort in hugs. This proves that the association of the aphrodisiac with the panic tortures him the body and the spirit in a vicious mixture. Desperate for physical contact, but the unwanted feelings of lust disgusting her, forces her to refuse the help her soul so miserably craves.

Still, his heart forbade him to remain inert. So once again, Astre put her hand on his wife's. Then again, face pale and cheeks burning, Elizabeth withdrew quickly. The count followed her movement and caught up with her. He intertwined his fingers with hers and squeezed her tighter. Moreover, the young woman tried to move away; but his mind fighting his urges for a while, it had consumed most of his strength. So for the first time, the young man had no trouble dominating her in physical capacity.

"I told you not to touch me!" The Countess continued to struggle.

"And I refuse." replied her husband. Unable to calm her down for the moment, he tried a different approach. He grabbed her wrists, trying to immobilize her.

"Ah! Usually you can barely stand the sight of my skin. Isn't it ironic that now-"

"STOPPED!" the young man had raised his voice so loudly that Elizabeth stopped gesticulating. Unfortunately, she didn't look at him, still scared and shaking.

Then, tears welling up in her eyes, she stammered "But... I..." Only, it didn't matter what she was planning to say, because Astre let go of her arms to hug her as hard as he could.

Then, his nose buried in the heavy cotton of his wife's cloak, the Count whispered "Lizzy. You know me better than anyone... My selfishness has no equal. Seeing you like this is unbearable to me. And you want me to stay inactive...I could try, do as you wish, just look away...But- but...don't you feel selfish yourself right now. give up, Elizabeth, when you know the pain of not being able to move when all you think about is wanting to act... Or, don't you feel like a hypocrite. can help me. How can you now order me to neglect you... So, even if your dearest wish is to be relegated; I cannot grant it to you... Let me be at your sides. Lean on my shoulder...Isn't a husband made for this sort of thing."

When his tirade was over, he had a moment of silence. Then under his arms, the young man felt the muscles of the countess relax. Only that was quickly replaced by spasms in his legs and heavy sobs.

Astre pulled her body back from the embrace to get a better look at her. Then encompassing his face with his gloved hands; he was trying to wipe away the pearls of salt water that ran down his cheeks.

It didn't stop anything. Nevertheless, the count did not see it as a failure, but rather as a sign that she finally allowed herself to release the accumulated anxiety.

After a last caress on her burning cheekbones. The young man looked for a more comfortable position for him and his wife. First, he came very close. Pushing the cumbersome fabrics of his lady's dress in its path; now their thighs were touching. Then, he put his left arm over his partner's shoulders, and made sure that her back rested lightly on her chest. Then with his free hand, he gently took Elizabeth's left hand. It was with this last gesture that Astre noticed that the young woman's hands were, in addition to being cold, extremely rigid.

Without moving from his position, he momentarily withdrew his arm from the Countess's shoulders to remove his gloves and put them on her. However, it took longer than he thought. His wife's petrified limbs, coupled with the jolts her body gave when she gasped for air, and finally complemented by the bad road shaking the cabin, greatly complicated the sensible simplistic process for him.

Then a peculiar sob made the Earl look up into Elizabeth's tearful eyes. He swore he heard her whisper. So not wanting her to shy away from speaking out, he encouraged her, "You were telling me something?". Again he gently wrapped her face, but with his bare palms this time. "If you need anything, tell me. I'll make sure you have it."

Unfortunately instead of answering, she only cried louder.

Pain painting his blue eyes, he reinstalled his left arm around her shoulders and took her hand with his right.

Five minutes only passed, but for Astre as for the young woman it seemed like half an hour.

Then, once more he heard her whisper; nevertheless, at that moment, the count understood what she stammered: "I'm sorry." she continued to repeat like a desperate prayer.

Hugging his wife a little tighter, he softly told her "You don't have to apologize... Nothing is your fault-"

"IF!" she cut him off abruptly. "You-you don't understand! I'm disgusting!".

Angry at her words, the young man was going to answer her; only Elizabeth spoke before him.

"You don't understand... Ma...Madame Venrino said it herself. It's an Aphrodisiac I drank... Don't you know that aphrodisiac doesn't create lust." then in a lower tone breathed "But amplify it..." clenching her jaw to prevent more sob from escaping, the Countess continued with difficulty "I'm sorry... To be such a filthy being. To have these desires..."

Inspiring, Astre asked him "What you're trying to tell me is that you've ever felt this?"

With a panicked look she turned her gaze to his "Not so hard! I swear. I've only ever felt a certain itch; then whenever I feel like this I look young, praying to the lord to make me forgive me and deliver me from harm...I'm ashamed of myself, I wish you didn't know...I'm so sorry you're stuck with me as your wife-"

Putting the index finger of his right hand on his lady's mouth, the count stopped her in her tracks. His eye had darkened with anger, but his face remained expressionless. "Who taught you this? Who told you it was disgusting to have carnal desires?"

"Well...mother...Several of my teachers, and-and the Church of course..."

Star looked up at the sky. "Of course her people will tell you it's wrong. I mean in the world. Friends, acquaintances. Don't you talk about that kind of thing between women."

Her crying started to calm down. Without needing a verbal agreement, she understood that his animosity was not towards her. Sniffling, Elizabeth answered a little embarrassed "Yes, it happens."

"And do you find them repulsive?"

"No! Of course not... Well, it's more that I don't really have time to think about it... Those who are also married, are much more versed than me in the matter, I don't dare to intervene." Her cheeks took on a ruddy color "Then...I'm too focused on drinking in their words to really think about anything else."

Seeing her reaction, the Count sneered, his anger leaving; then it follows "Be happy, it means you are in perfect health.". With tenderness the young man looked at his wife "It is normal to feel that."

"But... but you don't like it..."

"What don't I like?"

"The-the sss, the-the report, procreation!"

Astre couldn't help laughing at her embarrassment.

"Do not laugh!" she shouted at him, her face redder than the flames.

With a smile still on his lips, he did as ordered. Then he got rid of the embrace he had installed to lean towards the window to connect to the ticked. He opened the doorway and ordered "Sebastian, stop at the nearest relay; we'll spend the night there." without another word Astre moved back to his wife's side.

Frowning in embarrassment, the young woman said, "You shouldn't have. I feel good enough to continue the journey."

"The road is slippery and it's dark. Besides, you may have regained your speech, but I still feel your legs shaking slightly. You need some rest, and a bed is nicer than a car seat."

Twenty minutes passed and he had arrived at the relay. Immediately their horses were taken charge of. The butler opened the carriage door for his masters, then led them inside.

The count approached the person who seemed to be in charge and asked for a room. And without delay, a lady holding a candle led them there. The room was small, quite well decorated, but it was very cold.

"Would you rather wait by the fireplace in the dining area while we heat up the room?" the employee asked the young man.

Only as it was for his wife's sake, he turned his gaze to his wife and then waited for her response. To which she grimaced slightly as she moved her head from side to side.

Redirecting his gaze to the young lady, he spoke "No, we are tired. Light the fire then help my wife undress."

"Well sir." and she immediately set to work.

Meanwhile, Astre put her top hat on a chair near them, followed by her coat. He was going to keep going, but a female hand grabbed his arm? Then whispered in his ear. "There's only one bedroom?"

"Yes. Why, did you want to sleep alone?"

"Oh, no! I definitely don't want to be left alone. Don't go!" she tugged a little more on his arm.

The young man sighed "I'm not going anywhere... If that's not the problem, then what is?"

"I have no sleepwear."

"You will just sleep in your shirt."

At the sound of his words Elizabeth gasped and her cheekbones flushed. She goes to protest, however the maid raises her voice "The fire is on, the room will soon be warm. Let me help you Madam." employing her seemed to be impatient, and her actions showed as she grabbed the Countess' arm to pull her away from her husband.

The maid first took off her client's cape, then she turned it abruptly so that she was facing away from her and could undo her buttons. But the noble lady quickly stopped her.

"Where's the screen?"

"We don't have any, ma'am."

And without missing a second Elizabeth turned again to her husband with a blissful mouth.

For the umpteenth time tonight the Star looked up at the sky. "I'm going to the dining room." and he left his wife alone to undress.

As he descended the stairs leading to the ground floor he heard many women's whispers and giggles. The Count at first thought that there must have been another important person who had entered. Only, when he got downstairs, he noticed that from the door leading to the kitchen, a group of 5 women of all ages were having fun spying on his butler.

He would have rolled his eye, but he was starting to have a headache. He who intended to rest alone a little, he quickly forgot this idea.

With a hasty step he went towards the demon, the latter who seeing him made a small bow.

"Have some tea made, and if they have something sweet to eat with it, we'll take it."

"Good, my lord."

Not wanting to linger a minute longer, he hurried back upstairs. However, he didn't open the door to their room right away. He hadn't met the maid who was helping his wife on her return. The young man decided that it was all better to wait for the employee to come out.

After about 10 minutes, where he could hear his wife whining and the other lady grumbling, the latter opened the door.

Paying no more attention than that to the employee, he did not see the hand, already worn out by the work, grab his arm.

At the improper gesture towards his person, he was outraged. But before he even had time to tear her grasp away, she undid it herself.

Then with a forced smile that barely concealed the fact that it was false, the servant said "Sir, we are delighted to welcome you to our establishment, and you will of course always be welcome. Especially since Monsieur is very generous and we Already pay well knowing he got all the staff up at 1:00 a.m. Thanks again."

The Count was beginning to get impatient "Given the fervor you put into your monologue, I guess it's not fair to thank me, and that you have something else to say to me. So let's save that and get over it. by the way."

The lady returns to her apathetic face "You are very kind. Well then, Madame and Monsieur are very handsome and very young; only I get up very early in the morning, so I would ask you to silence your nocturnal activities. Sincerely."

The two left and stared for a moment without saying anything.

Then finally Astre followed "You know Madame"

"Miss, I'm not married yet."

"Yes, then it's neither your grace nor your spirit that's going to help you. But I don't care; let me finish my sentence... So I was saying, you know, I'm not a very religious man and yet I find myself thinking that these days not enough people go to church... Especially in this area."

The employee was going to answer him. But he went back into the room, effectively cutting off this funny conversation.

After this lame exchange, which he would have liked to avoid; a few seconds passed where the count remained motionless, his eyes closed and his head leaning on the cold and damaged door. Then, snapping him back to reality, the whisper of a familiar voice called him. "Star?" This made him quickly turn his head towards the source of his current troubles.

Sitting on the bed, bundled up under the heavy blanket, the crimson colors of the fire fighting against the darkness of the night to reflect on his face, his wife's emerald eyes stared at him with a worried glint. "You do not feel well?"

Letting out a weak breath invisible to the world. The young man began to walk towards his lady. The soles of his shoes slapping against the creaking wooden floor, punctuated his slow arrival towards her. Then stopping a few centimeters from the bed, his face impassive, he asked her "How do you feel?"

"Weak, and I'm a little sick to my stomach..."

The count sat down next to her, and lightly touched her cheek to check her temperature. "You're not pale. Do you still want me to bring a basin?". Then following the direction that his hand had taken, without thinking too much about it, he replaced one of his wife's golden highlights behind his ear.

The young woman's cheekbones twitched at her simple gesture. Still, she hoped the room was dark enough to cover her body's betrayal. So, trying to hide her shyness, she replied, "No! That's not what I meant. I don't feel sick to my stomach, like when you're nauseous. weight, or rather an unpleasant pinch. But it's also not like a pain that one would have for sentimental pain... Sorry, I don't really know how to explain it."

"Don't worry. I think I understand. It happens when you're anxious." Astre got up, then turning his back on his companion, he undid the buttons of his tail coat, then took it off.

At his action, Elizabeth's chest started pounding. Were they really going to sleep together with so few clothes. And the bed is by far much smaller than the one in their room at the mansion. It is probably almost impossible not to touch each other in the space given to them.

Her mind racing through a number of scenarios, each more dramatic than the next, she had to do something to avoid them. So she stuttered "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I already told you that stopping us was necessary. It's better for you to rest now." he took off his tie.

"Yes-yes, I understood. But for the clothes?"

The young man who had started to take off his waistcoat stopped and turned his head slightly towards his wife. "The clothes?..." she didn't have time to answer, "Oh, you mean for tomorrow. We'll just wear our clothes for tonight. I know you're a stickler for your toilet, but for this time you'll have to deal with it. It's not a big deal, I assure you."

Unable to bear the embarrassment of having to clarify her words once more, the Countess cried out before forming herself into a ball with the blanket "Oh, but that's not possible! You're doing it on purpose!"

At his sudden anger Astre stiffened. Barely a minute passed, he turned to her and in a weary tone spoke "What's wrong this time?"

Her voice somewhat muffled by the heavy wool she was covered with, she replied, "You who are so smart, just have to guess!"

The Count took a deep breath, then took the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He no longer had enough strength to handle his partner's mood swings.

He finished taking off his vest, then continued with his shoes. Next, Astre settled down next to her wife, then tried to claim a bit of the blanket that Elizabeth seemed to want to monopolize.

He grabbed the wool as best he could, but it seemed that the young woman had no intention of letting go.

Unfortunately for the latter, her husband knew her too well, and they knew exactly how to get what he wanted. So in a plaintive, fragile tone he said "Oh, Lizzy, please, I'm so cold and exhausted-"

"You are cold!" as expected, the Countess immediately emerged from her cocoon. Then she hurriedly brought her husband closer to the center of the bed, which was warmer, and covered Astre with the middle part of the blanket. "You feel better?"

Not having really had time to process the sudden position he now found himself in, he replied with a simple nod.

The couple looked at each other, without saying anything, in the whites of their eyes for a few seconds, until Elizabeth noticed their outfit. "Aren't you in your underwear?"

"Why would I be?"

The already red cheeks of the young woman ignited even more in front of his disbelief, and in retaliation she struck him several times on the shoulder. "You're not ashamed! Commanding me to sleep naked while you're fully clothed!"

Astre tried to protect himself as best he could with his arms. "What do you mean ordering to sleep naked-" he cut himself off in his sentence. In turn, his blood pooled towards his face. And curiosity mixed with panic taking command of his actions, he unhesitatingly lifted the wool covering them to check his wife's body.

"Do not look!" she cried, covering her husband's eye.

At the unexpected contact he choked a little, but was quickly back "Too late. I saw and you're in your shirt!" he removed his wife's hands "Never scare me like that again!"

Elizabeth grabbed the blanket again to hide, then turned away from her companion.

Their hearts pounding the couple didn't speak to each other for five minutes, until they calmed down a bit.

Astre took the first step "Sorry..."

"Why?" she grumbled in response.

"I don't really know...I think I made a mistake."

"Not just one...". She turned back to her husband. "I'm sorry too..."

With a smirk, he asked "Why?"

Closing her eyelids tightly, the Countess continued, "I don't know! II don't understand myself... It's... I want to, but I don't want to!" then hesitantly she directed her pupils towards the young man in front of her "You know about... all that..." then she averted her eyes from him, not supporting his analytical eye. "I…I'm sorry."

Now Count Phantomhive was looking at her seriously. "You remember earlier in the car. You said I didn't like it."

"Not what?" she sniffled.

In a slightly mocking tone, Astre said "Well, if my memory is correct, you had hesitated a long time on which words to use before choosing procreation."

Hearing this, the young woman couldn't help but die of embarrassment, and so the wool came up to her nose. "Yes, well?"

"It's wrong." he calmly declared

She dared to direct her eyes at him. "Wrong?"

Having her attention on him, while he confessed some personal thing, made him much more nervous than he had thought. "Yes."

"But-" she tried to speak. Only he prevented it.

"Among other things, I'm like you. I want certain things, but to act terrifies me." he took her hand. "I'm not sure if this is normal. But you're not alone."

Elizabeth laughed weakly, then gave him a bright smile overflowing with love, which made her husband's heart beat a little faster. Then, she moved close enough so that her forehead was in contact with the chest of the one she loved. "I never doubted it."

-x-

wow! Long chapter.

I'm sure there's a lot of fault, but I want to give you the rest at all costs. I will correct tomorrow morning.

XOXO. Thanks for following my story. And in the next chapter (which will be much shorter)

17

Hello Hello.

I had told someone that I would let you know when things were a little ole ole. So this is it. There isn't really a sex scene to speak of. But there is a strong notion of. As well as a slight reaction description and some crude language.

So there you go, there you go.

-x-

In a bedroom with walls lined with bas-relief carvings, James Connor lay lasciviously on the large bed in the center of the room. He was covered up to his waist with blankets of self and velvet where just a few hours ago the male had delivered himself to a night of passion with the owner of the place.

The woman in question, seated at his side, had started to smoke a cigar. The smell seeped into the man's nose, burning his sinuses unpleasantly. The archaeologist got up slightly, tilting most of his weight on his elbows for support. With his eyelids still somewhat heavy with sleep, in a gravelly tone he expressed his unease, "Turn off your drugs. It stinks."

Madame Venrino's pupils shifted languidly towards the person speaking to her. She looked him straight in the eye, put the cigar to her lips, inhaled the tobacco, then leaned closer to her guest to finally spit the smoke right in his face. "You will learn my boy, that I am not commanded."

James waved his hand lazily in the cloud of ash. His nose and mouth twisting into a grimace. "I've already agreed to many of your outlandish requests." His gaze drifted to the old man sleeping in a wheelchair at the end of the bed. Then his attention turned to the buxom woman in front of him. "Couldn't you give me this present?"

"My poor friend..." she inhaled again from her cigar, "Unfortunately your gift was to have me for one night." and exhaled the smoke. The waste she produced with her mouth, forced her companion to narrow his eyes.

The latter, whose heart was tired of being bullied by all the people he met. This heart, unsupported by yet another who dared to take it high, at the edge of a physical response hung dangerously. But this recalling that his only support and friend is only a small Baron without great personal fortune; he would never get out of misery if he raised his hand on a so-called fortune from England. He should then, with a smirk, trust his word against hers. "So you disdain nobles but act like them. Real newcomer demeanor. How charming. Haughty, hypocritical and decadent. It suits you perfectly my dear."

"Oh, let's see... Don't co-found me with a mirror. I never hated nobles." again Madame Venrino blew the smoke she had swallowed earlier into James's face. "And I had understood that you had more of a penchant for the nobility, given your association. Especially one of them." The lady paused to give him time to understand his insinuation, but also to add a touch of drama. Then with an exaggerated sigh she theatrically turned her head away then continued "But it seemed I was wrong."

Mr. Connor, had easily understood what she had wanted to imply. This made him laugh.

Everyone seemed to believe he had a special attachment to Countess Phantomhive.

"In effect." The archaeologist grabbed his companion's cigar with his fingertips, and without a second thought crushed it on the pure white bedside table beside her. "You couldn't be more wrong."

Not holding a grudge against him for his inappropriate gesture; the still smiling lady moved closer until their bare shoulders were in contact. "Really... And would you be so kind as to enlighten me. I hate being told I'm wrong without explaining why afterwards."

"And why should I? Your gift was my body for one night in front of your dying husband."

At his remark the hostess had the sudden urge to wrap his hands around his neck. However, the man undoubtedly had more strength than she would ever have.

James saw the dismay in her eyes and amused himself without restraint. "Ah, my poor...friend...Don't worry. I'll tell you everything, because I know it won't harm me."

The American sat in a position where it would be easier for him to speak and the woman beside him followed his example.

"You see Madam, let me first enlighten you on a subject where all of England seems to be wrong. No, I never had the slightest carnal or even sentimental desire for the Countess Phantomhive. "

In a mocking tone, the lady asked "Really? No desire?"

"Well, not without any intention. You're right, I did have a desire for her. The desire to get closer to the Countess and then be accepted by the Count."

Madame Venrino's eyes widened. "Why go to her rather than go to him directly?"

"Leon's advice."

"Oh...Rosemary...It's true that he first knew Elizabeth and then through her the Count."

"Only I'm not him! And so here we are..."

"Well unlike you Leon knows his place."

"I know mine all too well. I just don't like it."

"Why still be friends with him then?"

"He's a faithful, curious person with a big heart. As proof, he always takes care of his sisters despite they are old enough to get married."

"You're not wrong I guess... Another question?"

"You're welcome."

"Why would you want to be friends with the Phantomhive family?"

James didn't answer right away. He inhaled, then with a glint of fatigue in his eyes exhaled "I'm nothing. An American immigrant to England. Of course I would have been on the radar of nobility and law at some point. fire to fight fire. So I needed someone who was close to law and nobility."

Madame Venrino burst out laughing. The archaeologist looked at her with an insulted air. He counted on waiting for his laughter to die out to speak, only she forestalled him "We'll talk about your ability to play the victim later. First of all, I'd like to know; now that your little plan hasn't worked, Why do you keep hanging out with Lizzy? Especially since Count Phantomhive really doesn't seem to like you. And having her as an enemy isn't something we recommend."

Always with a scowl, and certainly not forgetting the first sentence addressed before his umpteenth question against him; Mister Connor replied "He's a nice person to be around." eclipsing the frown on his face, a smirk settled in. "Then maybe, precisely, because I like to see such a high Count in agony."

"But so far he's only won against you."

The man's eyes turned quickly and angrily to the hostess. "Raised for a long time. When his wife falls into my arms and I cuckold her, he won't have the audacity to even come out of his mansion."

The lady who accompanied him said nothing. Not because she couldn't or had nothing to say, but because she chose to be silent.

If she had to be honest. Madame Venrino thought that was one of the dumbest ideas she had heard. The only thing James would gain by doing this is a headshot at best.

But, she has always had a penchant for the dramatic. Stopping him will spoil his own fun. So with a candid smile, she put her hand on her mate's bare chest and leaned closer "How bad you are. But I must say I quite like it. Call me when Lizzy is in your bed. I would love to join you both."

The face borrowed from disgust, it was the turn of the American to ask a question "Do you therefore also go towards women?"

"Yes and no. My dear husband loves to see me with her. But personally I'm not a fan. Nevertheless for him I would do anything." She smiled and paused, shifting her eyes to her husband, then quite naturally continued "However, I love seeing them stuffed. Their cheeks turning red, their mouths wide open; but so drowned in pleasure that no sound manage to come out; until the orgasm finally comes. Their pelvises spasm, then they release a long moan provided by the ecstasy finally obtained... Elizabeth who always looks so pious and innocent... I bet the Earl barely touches her. Then we could see her discovering the thing. That would be so cute."

"I would have skipped the description, you are kind."

Madame Venrino didn't even bother to make him think she was paying attention to his sarcasm. "That being said, would I also love to see the Earl watch her get rolled up?"

"You are crazy." James stated lividly.

Once again she ignored him, "You see, I've always fantasized about getting caught by another man while the Count looks at us with disgust and a glint of superiority in his eye. But do you think that would he have the same reaction if it were his wife? Or would he discover a pleasure and start to touch her to the rhythm of her moans?... Or that he would start sobbing like a little child and try to take it away from us?" the woman finally turned her attention to the man beside her "What do you think?"

#black butler fanfiction

[maxandcheesesquared]

I'm going to give you some new to the site tips, cause of that most recent post of yours

You already have the first thing, which is don't look like a bot so good job.

Second thing is that for art, artists will prefer that you reblog it over just liking it. Likes don't really do anything besides send the creator a notification, whereas reblogs spread the post so other people see it.

Third thing, tags. Tags are for a handful of things. The first is like other social medias, if you follow a "cats" tag and someone tags their post "cats" you'll see it, or if you're scrolling through that tag. You can also block tags. Second is blog organization, I have all my posts tagged by fandom and character. If someone wants to just see what I've posted about the penumbra podcast with searching through every single post I've made, they can scroll through that tag on my blog. Third is probably the most common, and that's to add little extra comments to posts. Often, if people want to respond a post in a way that doesn't really add to it, they'll leave their response in the tags. You might see jokes about getting peer reviewed, which is if someone screenshots your tags and puts them on the main post because they think they deserve to be there. Tags don't show up in reblogs.

Replies are pretty much if you want to say something about a post and not reblog it

Go to your settings!!! Poke around a bit. There's a "based on your likes" feature that you can turn off to only see posts from people you follow, and it's generally recommended that you have your dash in chronological order.

Most people on tumblr hate algorithms. Just, despise them. This is cool because it means we don't really have an algorithm besides two features that are easy to turn off. This means that you are in control of your dash. If you don't want to see something, block the tag or user. If you want to see something, follow those blogs. It's up to you to regulate what you see.

On a similar topic, you'll probably see some activism posts that say "if you don't reblog this you're a bad person" and ignore that. Reblogging posts is not activism and trying to care about every single issue will just burn you out. This is less a tumblr thing and more of an existing in life thing but it was worth saying

That went way longer than I thought it would oops

Why, thank you very much. I'll keep all that in mind!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Hunt Me Down (5)

Humans are confusing creatures.

Tags/warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, deal with it, it's not Alcoria and not Prey oops, size difference because deal with it part 2, kook has a split tongue oops, also sharp teeth be careful cause he bites

Additional Chapter Warnings: tiny bit of angst

Chapter length: short

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Something you've not thought about yet, had been the fact that your stay on cepheid wasn't forever- and that you had a scheduled flight back home to earth.

Taehyung and your sister had rushed you to the spacetravel agency in a hurry- and honestly, in all that panic to catch your flight back home, you had completely forgotten about one man in particular who probably didn't know you'd just left.

You feel bad at home, face in your hands as you're sitting on the edge of your bed.

It's so quiet, only a faint humming sound emitting from your fridge in the kitchen, everything dark since it's nighttime. There's no way to just text him either- messages take hours to deliver, it would just make things awkward.

He probably thinks you've played around with him, led him on just to leave him alone. He's out of your league anyways, now that you think about it- so organized and stable, nothing compared to you who forgets the most important things sometimes.

You'll never see him again, you're sure- and if you do, he probably won't remember you.

He'll find someone else quickly- like Taehyung had told you, he's a good guy, and he can easily gain any attention he wants to. With not only his looks but also personality and well-paying job, he's a perfect partner.

The more you think about it, the less you understand why he even wanted to be with you in the first place.

But then again, things don't always make sense, and sometimes you're too busy thinking about all the bad things to understand what's really going on beneath the surface level of something. It's a bad habit of yours, and you know it- but it's hard to just shut those thoughts up, and make them vanish.

You've been lied to too many times before.

And maybe he never wanted something permanent in the first place. Maybe he's just good at talking, good at making people do what hw wants them to. You've met a lot of manipulating people in your life- you know it's always those you'd never think of, most of the time.

But you still use your pc to send a short message; one to your sister, thanking her for getting you home and that you've arrived safely, and one to Jungkook; thanking him for the time he'd spent with you, apologizing for what had happened. You'll not see him again- so it's not hard to add that you've enjoyed every second with him, and that you wish you had more time with him.

That you really started to fall for him and his odd way of speaking, his careful touches and gentle nature.

But that's all in the past now, as you lay down in your bed, open windows letting in cool and fresh air- oxygen levels way higher on earth, re-fueling your body it seems as you shed your clothes, shower, and lay down to rest in just your underwear.

It's odd- you've merely spent a week with him, if anything- and yet you miss him a little, already, even though you've seen him the day prior. At least you don't have to remember a heart breaking farewell with him- something that at least saved you some tears down the line. For now, you fall asleep in your home, back on your planet, in your everyday mundane life.

Unaware of the quiet 'ping' from your computer, signaling a new message.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #alien!jungkook #hunt me down au

[cc-2020]

Ok two wrongs don’t make a right but two dark and emotionally painful arcs might make a funnie crack au so

Umbara and the Chips arc

Anakin leaves and krell shows up and starts being a jerk and makes everyone march for 12 hours except oops turns out halfway through Tups chip flips out cause he’s sleep deprived or w/e so he goes and just absolutely gets krells ass who doesn’t expect it cause he’s a jerk about clones

The 501st panic frantically set up camp stick tup in some handcuffs and start blowing up anakins space text to get him to come back so he does so then idk shenanigans and non depressing fix it au commences

i thought about this ask for a while and that's actually a very reasonable idea

let's say krell and the boys have some time pre-mission and krell unpacks his whole ugly personality and orders the 501st to go running for a couple of hours

rex remains quiet for a while but he really sees how his men are growing more and more tired so he's like enough is enough and goes to confront krell

krell starts arguing, saying that the clones should be able to follow some orders, how he doesn't give a flying fuck about the republic and even less fucks about the clones' lives

he basically talks treason

and fives stands in the background and records all of this

anyways, our boys are very sleep-deprived, very stressed and also very exhausted, which promptly activates some chips

suddenly there are like 23 troopers having laser eyes directed at krell and they point their blasters at him because they won't hesitate bitch

krell's dead and rex looks down at his corpse and is like, damn,,, that's unfortunate

so he calls cody via comm and asks him what he would hypothetically do if his men would hypothetically kill a jedi, you know haha hypothetically speaking and cody sits on the other side of umbara like,,, excuse me

(he doesn't call anakin because he's a bit too far away and with the chancellor)

(the recordings of fives later make it easier to demonstrate that krell was ready to sabotage a mission of the republic, so there are eventually no real consequences for the 23 troopers)

assuming that some chips are more susceptible to a technical failure due to an incredible amount of stress, tup wouldn't be the only one to go bonkers - and when there is more than one clone trooper affected, shit gets statistically more interesting

since obi-wan and cody both have pretty nice ranks, they talk to the jedi order (palpatine tries to interfere but no one listens because that's shit they want to investigate okay) and are also the ones approaching the kaminoans. and this time they order a brain scan, making the so-called tumor visible, arguing that these have to be removed, and of course the kaminoans start bullshitting, saying that these tumors have to stay because the tumors are inhibitor chips and are implemented to prevent extremely violent behavior, making the clones less aggressive than jango fett. obi-wan and cody send this shit to kix, who looks at this statement and is seriously offended

kaminoans: the clones can become violent at any time which is why we implemented an organic chip into the right frontal lobe of their brains

kix, a medic: what ?? th e FUCK

kix, taking in a deep breath: alright buckle your seat belts motherfuckers because most ordinary social conventions are cast aside by impulsive behavior when there's a LESION in the right frontal lobe. there's a predisposition to manslaughter and harmful behavior when there's DAMAGE in the frontal region

kix: did you really clone a man with a lesion?? did jango fett have a lesion mhhh??? oh look at these CT scans of these 23 clone troopers, they are all healthy and fine so I THINK THE FUCK NOT

kix, who has no time to breathe: ALSO aggression and violent behavior have many neural correlates. if we clones are all this aggressive, why not modify our levels of serotonin metabolites ??? why not put a chip into the hypothalamus or the amygdala?? why not enhance GABA transmission ??

after listening to kix ranting his ass off, obi-wan, cody and rex naturally wonder why the clones need a chip to prevent violent behavior, even though there is no indication that the clones are more violent than nat-borns. see, they have 23 healthy troopers who randomly went havoc and the kaminoans said their chips malfunctioned. maybe the kaminoans are right and the chip is necessary to inhibit violent behavior BUT since a healthy right frontal lobe is also linked to decision making and judgment, maybe the chip malfunctioned and therefore caused the right frontal lobe to dysfunction, promoting violent behavior

natural conclusion: surgically remove the chips from the 23 clone troopers, look how their behavior changes, and conduct a study that involves a group of clones that do not receive a chip in their embryonic state and compare their behavior to the clones who received a chip (conducted and monitored by the jedi order ofc)

result: the treatment group did not get more aggressive than the control group. and the 23 clone troopers went back to normal after the removal of the chip

therefore, the republic orders the kaminoans to stop implementing the chips, even to remove them, since they obviously proved that the chips can malfunction, causing aggressive behavior. obi-wan, cody and rex naturally don't trust the kaminoans since they already implemented chips without their knowledge, so their strengthen their control positions on kamino and shaak ti becomes even more of a mother hen

(anakin gets the memo a tad later and it's good that way because he's a) to emotional for all of this and b) too close to palpatine)

in conclusion: krell's cruelty randomly activated order 66 and because more than one clone trooper is affected, the jedi council is WAY more invested, barely listening to palpatine or the kaminoans. and even though palpatine is still in the office and the jedi order still has no idea about order 66 he can't do shit because all chips are slowly removed from all clone troopers and he can't really order the remaining clones to go full assassin if anakin is still a good boi

#wow this got longer than expected #also i havent watched both arcs in a while i hope i remember everything correctly #this was sitting in my drafts for a while because i had thoughts #commander cody #captain rex #obi wan kenobi #clone medic kix #clone trooper tup #arc trooper fives #cc answers

[shadowsinger11]

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley oneshot #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #fred and george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #oliver phelps