#and uh procreate’s fire brush

[kakyogay]

I think you use procreate if I remember correctly. any good brush recommendations?

I do and I jump around with brushes all the time but uh if I had to recommend a few I'd say these are pretty fire

syrup is great for pixel stuff (and my newest favorite). Clean sketch is great for coloring and, depending on you're preferences and style, sketching (the pack it was in was free when I got it no idea where to find it or if it's still free). Shale and dry ink is great for sketching and doodleing (changed the grain size for dry ink to get rid of those massive holes in it's texture). And finally I use marker for writing out text and used to use it for sketching and animatics (forgot where the brush was and/or if it was from somewhere else but uh yeah pretty cool).

There's some other texture ones that are also pretty cool like rainforest in the organic section and spectra in the painting section but it really depends on what you want and your style (as does most things).

Just mess around with brushes and see what you like idk that's how I found these.

#askyogay #hope this helps ig idk #procreate has got a lot of cool brushes you just gotta fuck around and find out which ones you like

[ja3hwa]

JONGHO | MY ANGEL

Word Count : 2.1K

Genre : Smut, Supernatural, Fluff

Warnings : unprotected sex, riding, nipple play, pet names, use of religion (angels and demons), praise, let me know if i missed anything.

Notes : Demon!Jongho just wants to finally ruin his Angel!Reader lover. Honestly this is pure smut and not much plot. Jongho is a soft dom.

"Jongie~" You whimper as he pulls you onto his lap, kissing down your neck. The smell of whiskey slips off his tongue. A small record player, playing classical on vinyl to make background music. The red velvet against your knees as you dig further into the couch with Jongho holding you tight. Kissing along your neck, leaving marks in his path. He slips the straps of your nightgown and bra off your shoulders, giving your newly exposed skin sloppy kisses.

"Gorgeous." He mumbles under a groan, you grinding your hips again on his thick hips and thighs. Sex was a forbidden act among your kind. An act only two angels could do once they were linked and together forever as one. An act to only bring one thing to this world. Procreation. But here you were, losing count of how many times the man before you has opened you to new things.

"Let's take this off." He spoke in a low pant, pulling you up to stand along with him. Your gown falling, it pools at your feet on the floor. Jongho licks his lips, sighing at the sight of you, drinking every aspect of your body, never getting tired of how angelic you look even in the most dirtiest of scenarios. He quickly unbuttons his dress shirt, you bit your lip, letting your hands roam over his bare chest. He chuckles at your expression, still innocent even though your thoughts are nothing but sins.

You look up to the man smiling at him, a twinkle still in your eyes. A spark of your sweetness. He lets out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, snuggling into your neck. The light touches of his fingertips and kisses all over your neck, drive you crazy. Like you've been touch starved for all your life, (well that part may not be wrong), your body was willing to bend to Jongho's will.

"You're so dirty, my little angel." Jongho laughs, grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a rough but passionate kiss. You whimper into the kiss, biting his lip. He picks you up as if you weighed nothing, cause of his demonic strength, you wrap your legs around his waist. He walks swiftly to the end of the bed before placing you down with a gentle thud. Leaning against your elbows you crawl up the bed, keeping your lips connected with his at all times.

"Comfy love?" He cooed as you reached the pillows, laying down. Your hands run up Jongho's chest, with blush forming from his words. How can someone that's supposed to be pure evil, still be so caring. He snuggles himself in between your opened legs. He kisses every part of your exposed skin, slowly moving down your body. Both his hands caressing every inch of you. His soft lips retch your inner thighs, teasing you, he bites your flesh making you shiver under him.

"Ah Jong~" You claw the sheets below you, moaning out his name. The sanitation making you already melt for him. Your cheeks blushing red, heat rushing through your body. He chuckles licking the bite mark.

"Say my name like that again." He bites your other thigh, hoping to get another moan out of you. But this time your hands fly to his head, gripping his hair, letting out a cry while your hips involuntarily grind into nothing. He lowly growls at your action, satisfied at how your body aches for him. Sitting up he sees your flushed face, eyes closed and mouth agape.

"Look at me, Angel." You open your eyes obediently, seeing Jongho sliding off the bed, taking his belt off before stripping himself of his suit pants. Letting them drop to the floor, he kicks them away before he props himself next to you, laying on his side.

He whispers dirt yet sweet nothings, draping your arm over him. Hand gliding on his shoulder blade before settling on the back of his neck, your fingers tangle themselves with the ends of his hair. He smiles into a kiss on your neck, painting your skin in his marks. His hand travelling behind your back, making you arch it for him to have better access to unclip your bra. He kisses your collar bone once more before slipping the item of clothing off your body. He looks up seeing your now naked chest, breath hitching from the sight. Wasting no time he grabs a hold of your left nipple pinching it before wrapping his mouth around it, sucking hard. While the other hand gropes your right breast.

"Uh, J-Jong-" You gasp, feeling such sensitivity on your breasts as Jongho's tongue swirls around them, switching from one another to give both the same treatment.

"Please...Please..." You don't know what you were begging for, but you were begging nonetheless. Gripping the sheets, his hair, clawing at his back, his hands and mouth gave you nothing but his full attention. Like he read your mind, his hand snaked down to the hem of your panties, sliding them down, before discarding them onto the floor. His fingers hover over where you need him most, a devilish grin smeared on his face as he watches your brows cross, eyes glued shut waiting for him to finally touch you.

"Fuck, you're beautiful." He praises, running his index finger along your slit, picking up some of your wetness.

"Ahh." You gasp aloud, feeling his cold fingers sliding up and down. He lands on your clit, slowly starting to rub circles. You grip his bicep arching your back, throwing your head into the pillow to block noises from getting too loud. Jongho noticed that, making use of your new position, he bites your neck giving you more reason to let out the dirty sounds he's craving.

"Oh my god." You choke out. He slips a finger into you, pumping it slowly in and out. His tongue licks over the bite he just made on your neck before kissing your jaw up to your lips, giving them a peck.

"How are dare you use the lord's name in vain." He sarcastically gasps, making you both laugh, hitting him in the chest lightly. He takes this moment to move between your opened legs, fingers still slowly pumping, leaning over you to capture you in a hot kiss. You moan into his mouth, tongues, and teeth clashing together. He adds another finger into you, then more one, gifting him a hiss from you. Feeling the new stretch below you, your hands grip onto his shoulders, a lone tear breaking away from you.

"Shh it's okay, I got to get you ready Angel." He speaks through the sloppy kiss, pumping into you faster. He breaks away kissing the tear on your cheek, heat rushes through your veins, panting Jongho's name out like it was the only word you knew. A pit in your stomach forming, a release needing to be chased. Grinding on his fingers you snap out a choking moan just before you let go. But in pain, Jongho slips his fingers out, sitting up away from your body. You mewl at the loss of touch, feeling the rush of cold air hitting you. You try to sit up to follow him, but your arms have turned to jelly. Making quick to rid himself of his boxers. you finally see Jongho completely, every scar, tan line and beauty mark he had.

"Like what you see?" He outs out a low chuckle flexing his arms a bit as he leans back over you.

"Shut up." You chuckle hitting his chest lightly, before pulling him into a kiss.

"Oh, my Angel has a potty mouth." He growls in between kisses. You just shake your head at him, keeping his lips on yours. He grabs behind your knees, pulling your legs around his waist, feeling his tip brush against your core. A sense of anxiety fills you, mixing into your pleasure. Jongho could tell by your worried look, giving the side of your thigh a squeeze to reassure you. You give him a smile in response, to tell him you're okay.

"Jongie..." You sigh out, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He grabs his cock, bringing it to your entrance, easing into you. You claw at his back feeling a painful stretch. He cooed in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you.

'That it... You're taking me so well. Fuck you're such a good girl.'

He stays still for a moment, letting you get fully used to the feeling of this new position. You lightly tap his shoulder, indicating he can move. He draws his hips back, pulling his cock out until only his tip is inside you, before snapping back into you with a deep thrust.

"JONGHO!" You moan out, as a 'Fuck' slips from him in groans as he grinds his hips into you faster and harder. A feeling of pleasure runs through both of you, a fire lighting inside of you. Sounds of skin slapping, sloppy kisses and groans echoing through the dim room. Holding onto his back, you drag your nails down, temping to draw blood.

"My baby..." He sits up to adjust himself but you roll him over so you're are now on top of him, grinding down making him let out a low deep growl. His eyes changing to a deep red threatening to turn black, a primal grunt leaving him as he grips your hips hard, surely leaving bruises for the morning.

You bounce on him, placing your hands on his chest to stable yourself. His hands that grip your hips, snake around to your ass, slapping your cheeks. A tingle in your stomach form, opening your eyes you see Jongho staring up at you with a fucked out expression. His dark eyes burning into you.

"Fuck I love you." You slip out, your clear eyes, hazing over with a red tint, painting your angelic eyes to a now dark crimson. A smirk falls on Jongho's face, leaning you down to rest on his chest, his face inches from your as he thrust his hips up into you at a speed, unlike anything.

"I love you too My Angel." He kisses your cheek enjoying your expressions as you let the pleasure ride over your senses. The knot in your stomach shakes as a feeling of release is needed.

"Go on baby, let it go." He growls, taking another slap of your red cheeks. Feeling Jongho twitch inside you, you finally let out. All the innocence washing away. All the purity falling through the cracks of pure sin. Feeling Jongho spill into you, you scream out, hugging him tightly as both your highs erupt and with a final snap of Jongho's hips a moment of new being happened.

"Love, your wings." Jongho chokes out seeing your wings for the now second time. Only having ever seen them when you both first met. But this time they were different, the pure white feathers were now pitch black. He reaches out to touch the soft feathers, you take notice dropping them down so they cover you both. Your half-closed eyes still slightly fuzzy, see the dark feathers. A new feeling stirring.

"They are beautiful." He whispers kissing your forehead as you lay your head on his chest. Both panting with hearts racing, you weakly chuckle at his words. You let out a soft sigh before sitting up slowly. Jongho follows your movement keeping a grip on your waist. He kisses your neck, your wings wrapping around both of you lightly tickling Jongho's back. Your heart starts to slow down as your breathing becomes stable. You lean in to kiss him with soft passion, melting into his embrace. You retract your wings not wanting them to be out in the open in such a small space just in case. Jongho lets out a sigh, making you pull away to tilt your head, asking if he is okay.

"I was starting to like them being out, it's like you were hugging me with them." He teases.

"oh god, shut up." you laugh at his words. a moment of silence fell, just a moment before Jongho gained the strength to pick you up and take you to the connected bathroom to your room. Getting cleaned up, Jongho puts his boxers on while you get a new pair of panties. Opting for no bra, you cuddle under the blankets feeling each other's bare chest against one another.

"Goodnight My Angel." he kisses your forehead as you snuggle into his chest.

"Goodnight, My Love."

You were now his Fallen Angel

-

Tag List:

@yunhofingers @softforqiankun @violetwinters @kpopmademygradesgodown @lmhmh01

#kpop #kpop reactions #kpop smut #kpop fluff #ateez #ateez reaction #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez jonhgo #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez jongho x reader #jongho x reader #jongho smut #demon!ateez

[nautiscarader]

Robstar 29

Incorporating two prompts I got on FF: starfire comes from another planet to save her species by finding a mate (and bringing him home to the others).raven meditating and picking up starfire and robin in another room.

()(Ao3)(next>>)

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, Raven closed her eyes and attuned herself to the movements of the spheres, gently floating into the air. Her dark room allowed her the comfort necessary to achieve such mental state, and  thanks to her astute mind and training, there was very little that could have disturbed her.

Unfortunately, that very little happened to occupy the room next to her.

When Raven felt the sudden, overwhelming spike of emotions, she lost her balance and fell to her bed, flailing her legs and arms, like a spinning top thrown out of its perfect rhythm. It took her a moment to realise what was the cause of the interruption, when another burst of positive, glowing energy reached her through the walls, confirming her worries. As a trained empath, Raven could easily detect the emotions of her friend on the opposite side of the wall, despite its thickness, strengthened by various materials meant to stop sound or vibrations penetrating it (and truth to be told, Raven and Beast Boy were partially responsible for that addition).

But Raven didn’t need superhearing or x-ray vision to know what was going on the other side. Her hyper-active friend, Starfire, glowed like a bright light in the darkness, and in her state, it was a flame so vivid and colourful Raven was worried it might become a wildfire soon. A much more subdued source of energy appeared in the form of her boyfriend, and she was sure the spike of energy occurred exactly when Starfire began undoing her clothes. Raven has seen the pattern before, and knew it was only a matter of time until their desire would explode, and the only reason why it hasn’t yet was because the two were probably talking about something. And though she wanted to go back to her meditation, Raven wondered what they were talking about…

- Robin… - Starfire asked timidly, undoing buttons of her shirt - Shall we engage in another play of the roles? - A roleplay? - Robin approached towards her and placed a single kiss on her now-exposed shoulder, while his hand brushed her thigh. - I’m all ears. - No, you’re not. You’re all you. - Starfire spoke - Or is that one of verbal phrases? - Yes, yes, it is Starfire. - Robin chuckled. - So, what was that roleplay idea?

As if a trumpet was blown right next to her ear, Raven jolted in place at the same time as Starfire leaned and whispered her idea into Robin’s ears. Their auras mixed and pulsed with a new kind of desire she hasn’t felt with them so far, only strengthening her curiosity. And whether she wanted to or not, she has become a witness of some colourful spectacles of emotions in her room, and reluctantly understood that there was no point in trying to go back to her meditation.

- And? - Starfire asked, blinking - Does my idea possess enough kink? - Yeah, I’d say so… - Robin gulped, and took a step back - Ready when you are…

Starfire cleared her throat and floated a few inches above the ground, watching as Robin’s face is torn with a pretence grimace.

- Greetings, human - she spoke in a stoic, and near-regal tone. - I am Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, and I seek your help. - An… an alien! From another world! - Robin spoke, watching as Starfire twirls around in mid-air. - That is true. I am a magical princess from another dimension.

She bowed and moved her arms, drawing a flaming arc above her head.

- I have come here to seek help of your people, for you see, my planet is dying.

She floated towards him and cupped his face, staring into his eyes as she gathered strength to fully articulate the naughty idea that has been sitting on her mind for quite some time.

- I, and many others, are in a dire need of a mate. Wars have diminished our supplies of men, and so, we were sent to other worlds to find… the most suitable of them…

Raven felt how their foreplay changed when Starfire’s voice became more and more salacious, and without becoming fully aware of it, Raven’s hand gravitated towards her sex, and she began mashing her pussy and clit first through her fabric, and then directly, as her fingers slipped underneath her costume.

- W-wait! - Robin protested - Does- does that mean that I- - If you’d be chosen, you’d travel to my planet to help us reach numbers from before the war. But I need first to test you if you are worthy of becoming the saviour of my kind.

She undid the security locks of her costume, and one by one the blue-purple armor fell to the floor, increasing Robin’s pulse witch each piece. On the other side of the wall, Raven wondered what the two were doing; she deduced they must still be in the foreplay stage, but with each second, their energies glowed more and more brightly, until suddenly, a flash appeared in her mind, at the same time as last piece of Starfire’s costume fell to the floor and she was dragged into Robin’s laps.

Their lips met in a hungry, ravenous kiss that lasted only a few seconds, as Starfire broke it looking deep into Robin’s genuinely confused eyes.

- Robin of Earth! Is this necessary for procreating? - We call it “love” - he added, placing another kiss on her exposed bosom - Don’t you have that? - I feel my people will have a lot to learn from you…

Starfire smiled and allowed Robin to overtake her, pushing her to the bed, while his kisses slowly ventured down, alongside her voluptuous breasts, flat belly and down her long legs, deliberately missing her wet sex. He looked up, hearing an annoyed gasp from her, and he only returned a cocky smile, while his arms kept her legs from impatient flailing. He stared for a moment at her radiant face, enveloped with the red halo of her hair, before he dived between her legs, listening to the sweet music of her moans produced when his tongue met with her lips.

Rave could feel the same spikes of energy, and could almost see Starfire’s back arching and her levitating in the air as Robin caressed her. She ditched all the pretence and threw aside her cape, and relaxed on the bed, raising her legs to get her hands better access to her wet sex. She drained the emotions, fed on them, and she came close to her orgasm at the same time as Starfire coated Robin’s face with her juices, after his lengthy set of licks and kisses.

- Is… is this what happens before mating? - Starfire asked, continuing her naive play. - Sometimes, if a man cares about his woman… - I think I made a good decision, then…

She reached her arms and pulled Robin towards her, tasting herself on his lips, as her boyfriend got comfortable between her legs. His hands gravitated towards her hips, and with no effort, he gently pushed them against her body, slowly puling her behind up, until Starfire caught onto the idea and helped him maintain the highly erotic position.

- Ready? - I certainly am. - she nodded.

With her legs locked underneath her arms, Robin had the perfect view of her pussy, adorned with a small bush of fiery, red hair. He grabbed her thighs again, and staring into her widened eyes, he hilted himself in, slow at first, and then, as Starfire’s voice grew, faster, until she was babbling, begging him to speed up. With a quick grunt he fulfilled her promise, and next thing she knew, he was balls deep inside her, feeling her body twitch and quiver as her nerves were suddenly set on fire with the rapid thrust.

But Robin did not respond to that, knowing well her raised voice was nothing to be concerned. Soon her cries turned into moans and wails, encouraging him to continue his noble quest, her voice breaking and quivering as her body rocked under Robin’s constant, rhythmic thrusts.

- Ro-Robin! Please do not-not stop the mating! - I’m not… gonna.

Robin flexed his feet and leaned over her, pressed his lips against hers as his hips mercilessly pounded her, diving his cock in and out. And behind the wall, Raven was spasming and writhing, inches away from her own orgasm. She felt the animalistic, primal intent they both had, and genuinely wasn’t sure if the two were just role-playing, was they just taunting each-other, or if they really wanted to do this.

And it was that new emotion that drove Raven over the edge, making her slam her hips against the bed, at the same time as Robin collapsed onto Starfire, his cock filling the condom with burst after burst of his seed, while her walls clenched around him, milking him for more. Her moans became a continuous wail, and if she wasn’t so tired, she’d gladly levitate them into the air.

- Robin… You truly are the best choice I have… - Are all women on your planet as beautiful as you? - he asked, when he caught his breath, and started toying with her hair. - Some… some are… - Then how about we do it like this: you get to keep me, and we’ll get some other folks for the rest. Deal? - I agree, Robin! You shall be my personal mate!

The two giggled, and rolled back and forth on Starfire’s bed, basking in the powerful orgasm they just went through, completely oblivious that just a few feet away they have pleasured their friend. Raven stared at the ceiling, her chest still moving erratically up and down, while her thoughts raced her mind slower and slower.

On one hand, she knew it was wrong, and she shouldn’t have spied on them; on the other, the pure, unabashed intent that emanated from the emotions, was very, very real, even if it was a made-up scenario. But the worst thing was, she desperately needed to live through it again, perhaps this time with someone who would be up to the task…

As if on command, the door to her room opened, and beast Boy walked in, with two packagaes of Chinese food.

-Hey, they Rae, brought you-Woah!

He flinched when he saw her lying half-naked on her bed, with her glistening sex relfecting the lttle light her room produced.

- Uh, is something wrong?

But before he say anything more, two dark magical tentacles brought him to her, and soon Raven didn’t need her magic to keep him by his side. She rolled him to his back, straddled him, and unapologetically tore his suit apart, revealing his naked body underneath it.

- I’d take what they were having. - They? - Beast Boy asked, curious at her behaviour. - I’ll explain later.

And with thatt, Raven began moving her hips up and down, coating his cock with the copious amount of her juices that only helped her reach her cause.  

#robstar #lemon #fereality-indy #Robin #Starfire #Teen titans #nautiscaraderfics

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 3 - Vino y Pasta

La Patisserie de la Rose by George deValier 

CHAPTER THREE Vino y Pasta

.

"Maybe this was not the best idea."

Matthew took one look at Francis' worried expression and felt his heart sink to his stomach. Francis had changed his mind. Matthew had been too boring, he hadn't spoken enough, he'd spoken too much, he didn't know how to flirt properly, he'd done this all wrong… "Oh. That's okay. I mean, I understand if you've changed…"

"No, no, no, my dear!" Francis smiled reassuringly and placed his hand lightly on Matthew's back. Matthew felt the touch like a burning, swelling spark beneath his skin. "Asking you on a date was, I believe, the best idea I have had all year. I'm just not certain if I chose the best place."

"Oh?" Matthew glanced around the bright, busy restaurant. What could Francis possibly be concerned about? The place seemed perfect.

"No, it should be fine." Francis spoke softly, as though to himself. "I'm sure they don't work on Fridays…" He was interrupted by a shriek.

"FRANCIS!" A short, grinning, amber-haired young man bounded across the full restaurant, pushing past bustling waiters and crowded tables, and threw his arms around Francis. "François, grand frère, I haven't seen you for so long! Not since Tuesday! Did you bring me cupcakes? No? That's okay, you can make me some for tomorrow night, with rainbow icing and sprinkles and you are going to Gilbert's party tomorrow night, aren't you? Did you know Antonio told him? Lovino was so cranky. Well, crankier than usual."

"Ah, Feli," said Francis, a forced smile on his lips. "So you are working tonight."

"Of course! It's been so busy we need all the staff we can get!"

Francis took Matthew's arm and started to slowly back away. "Is that right? I'm sure there are no free tables, then. Oh well, I guess we will be leaving…"

"No! Don't be silly! There's always room for family. I'll get you a table. LOVINO!" Francis winced at the shout and smiled apologetically at Matthew. The young man burst into a steady stream of rapid-fire Italian, quickly answered by further shouting from the kitchen across the room. No one in the restaurant seemed to take notice.

"I'm sorry," said Francis softly, speaking into Matthew's ear. "Like I said, maybe this wasn't…"

"No, it's fine!" Matthew had never been to a place like this before. The sound of loud speech and boisterous laughter blasted from every table; the smell of tomato and roasting garlic filled the air; vivid drawings of colourful food and the Italian countryside covered the walls. It felt warm, lively, friendly. In some strange way, it reminded Matthew of Francis' patisserie. The cheerful young man turned back towards them and spoke again in English.

"I'll show you to your usual table, of course you know the way though, you're lucky it's free because there's so many people tonight and oh!" The man broke off, stared wide-eyed at Matthew, and gasped loudly. "Hello!"

"Uh. Hello."

"Hello!" The little Italian put his hands to his mouth then wrung them frantically. "I'm so rude. Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I'm so rude, I didn't even… hello."

Matthew tried not to laugh. "Hello."

"Feliciano," said Francis, breaking smoothly into the short, broken excuse for a conversation. "This is Matthew. Matthew, my little cousin Feliciano."

Matthew held out his hand but, to his surprise, Feliciano threw his arms around him and squeezed him tightly. "Benvenuto, Matthew! I'm so, so happy to meet you! Welcome to Casa Vargas! Wow, you must be really special, you're the first one of Francis' boyfriends he's ever brought here! Well, I say boyfriends, but everyone knows Francis only uses them for s…"

"SO!" Francis shouted. "How about that table, Feliciano?"

"Oh, yes!" Feliciano released Matthew and bounced off into the restaurant. "Follow me!"

Matthew tried not to dwell on that earlier statement of Feliciano's, instead allowing Francis to take his hand and lead him through the bright, crowded room. He wondered if his work suit was tidy enough, then wondered if he was overdressed, then worried whether Francis expected to pay the bill, then hoped people weren't staring at their clasped hands, then Francis looked back and smiled. "I had no idea it would be this busy!"

Every doubt and worry flew from Matthew's mind. His cheeks turned warm and he returned the smile shyly. "I suppose that means the food is fantastic!"

His eyes fixed on Francis', Matthew barely noticed they had stopped until Feliciano turned and gestured theatrically to the table beside them. "Your table, signori! I shall return with your wine shortly!" He stared at Matthew, giggled, said, "Hello," once more, then ran off into the kitchen. Matthew reluctantly released Francis' hand, felt the need to let out a deep breath, and sat slowly at the table.

"He's, uh… cheerful."

"You have no idea, mon cher." Francis threw a quick, strangely nervous glance after Feliciano before taking the seat opposite Matthew.

The table was situated in a back corner of the restaurant, slightly removed from the other diners, which gave it a private, secluded feel. This had all happened so fast, but it suddenly struck Matthew that he was on a date – a date with a man he was very, very interested in. When was the last time that had happened? Actually, when had that ever happened? His natural shyness overtaking him, Matthew could only stare at the table. This was real now, this was a date, not just a casual morning at the patisserie before work. Matthew did not quite know what to say, what to do with his hands. He absently pushed the wine glass across the crisp white tablecloth, then reached out and touched the small candle holder in the centre of the table. Unexpected heat spread through his fingers. "Oh!" he said in surprise. "It's real!"

"Excuse me?"

Matthew looked up to see Francis staring amusedly at Matthew's fingers brushing over the little glass jar. Matthew immediately dropped his hand. "Oh, nothing, really. It's just, so many restaurants have those fake candles these days. It is nice to see a real one. It's more…"

"Romantique?"

Matthew felt his lips twitch and his skin warm at that familiar bright-eyed smile, that lilting, teasing tone. "I was going to say, honest."

"Of course. That describes the place quite well, really."

Matthew glanced around at the tables of families arguing over pizza, the couples gazing at each other over glasses of wine. "It is lovely. Warm and friendly. And your family own it?"

Francis nodded. "The Italian branch."

"There are branches?"

"Darling, my grandfather scattered children across the Mediterranean like petals to the wind. I am quite certain that entire future generations in the region would be able to trace their ancestry back to the man." Francis winked. "If only his grandchildren were the type to procreate."

Matthew leant forward, intrigued. "Which they're not?"

At that moment, Feliciano reappeared like a colourful miniature tornado beside them, grinning and bouncing and brandishing a bottle of red wine. "La vostra bottiglia di vino rosso, signori! Or, votre bouteille de vin rouge, Messieurs!"

"Or, Ihre Flasche Rotwein, Herren." Matthew shot a wry smirk at the bouncing brunet, who went immediately still, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open. Matthew started to worry that he might have been rude or inappropriate, when Feliciano finally shouted a response.

"O mio Dio, Matthew, you speak German!"

"Oh, um..." Matthew blinked a few times, taken aback. He had only meant it as a light-hearted, throwaway reply to Feliciano's swift change of language. "Well, only a tiny bit, that was probably incorrect, I was just…"

"Can you teach me to say something?" Feliciano interrupted eagerly, his expression bright and earnest and intense. He didn't seem to notice Francis take the wine from his hand and proceed to pour it into the two glasses on the table. Matthew looked to him for help but Francis just suppressed a laugh behind a falsely innocent expression.

"Well, I'll try if I…"

"Can you tell me how to say, 'I love you?'" asked Feliciano excitedly.

Matthew's features relaxed into a soft smile. What a charming thing to ask. "Of course. It's 'Ich liebe dich'."

Feliciano's eyes were as wide as saucers and he practically jumped on the soles of his feet. "Oh! Thank you so much! Can you write it down for me? I'll have to get you a pen but ooh, first, also, how do you say, 'You're handsome and perfect'?"

Matthew bit back a laugh. Feliciano was too adorable. "Sie sind hübsch und perfekt."

"Grazie, Matthew!" said Feliciano breathlessly. "Just one more thing. How do you say, 'Fuck me harder, you magnificent, filthy German sex pig?'"

Matthew gasped, choked, and promptly broke into a fierce coughing fit. Francis smoothly pressed a glass of wine into his hand. Matthew gulped it down swiftly.

"Feli," said Francis lightly, "I don't think Matthew's German vocabulary extends that far. Why don't you ask Gilbert?"

Feliciano's face lit up. "Of course! Gilbert! Why didn't I think of that already? Merci, François, grand frère!" Feliciano bounced off again happily. Matthew glared at Francis over his glass, his eyes slightly wet from coughing.

"Why do I get the feeling that was quite a cruel suggestion?"

Francis shrugged innocently and took a sip of wine. "I've no idea, mon cher."

Matthew drank as well, bringing the last of his coughing under control. Well, that was certainly unexpected. "So, who is the magnificent, filthy German… uh…" Matthew trailed into a mumble and Francis giggled airily.

"Gilbert's little brother. He and Feliciano have been together a year or so."

"I see. So that's what you were referring to, earlier."

Francis winked, his dark blond hair falling across his sparkling blue eyes. "Let's just say that Grandpa has long resigned himself to the fact that he is unlikely to have great-grandchildren."

"Oh." Matthew paused to adjust to this new information. Meeting Francis' friends Gilbert and Roderich had been eye-opening in itself. Matthew was not used to meeting other gay men so openly; not in everyday situations like this. Yet Francis seemed to be surrounded by them. It was a far cry from Matthew's sheltered, small town upbringing. "So you know a lot of…" Matthew faltered over the sentence, but pressed on resolutely, "…gay men, do you?"

Francis laughed and settled back in his chair. "Darling, you've no idea!"

Matthew finished his glass of wine, feeling strangely small and ignorant. "I can't even imagine. I knew two other gay guys growing up. And one was my brother Alfred."

Francis' eyes lit up with interest. "You never told me you had a brother."

Matthew immediately regretted bringing the subject up. Even living in another city, another country, Alfred had overshadowed Matthew their entire lives. "Half brother, actually. We weren't even raised together, except for the holidays. His father is American - that's where he lives. The general consensus is that he's a more popular, more successful, better looking version of me."

Francis frowned disbelievingly. "More popular and successful, possibly. Better looking? I simply refuse to believe it, darling, unless this Alfred be a God."

Matthew scoffed incredulously, even as his neck burned at the praise. "Some might agree with that assessment of Alfred's divinity." Matthew was used to living in Alfred's shadow. But Francis made him feel special, for the first time in his life, so he had so far avoided bringing up the topic of his famous brother. But it was not the kind of thing he could hide forever. Matthew sighed deeply, met Francis' gaze evenly, and prepared himself for the gasping and gushing he had come to expect on this topic. "My brother is Alfred F Jones."

Francis' eyebrows furrowed for a moment before his face brightened in cautious understanding. "Oh! The baseball player… no?"

Matthew blinked a few times, then had to choke back a sigh of relief. "Gridiron."

"Gridiron…" Francis tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah oui, the silly game with the helmets. Yes, there was that scandal last year, wasn't there? The famous quarterback who came out and introduced his male English lover to the media. I vaguely remember seeing it in the papers. That was your brother?"

Matthew nodded. "I'm surprised you only heard it in passing. It caused a media meltdown in the States."

Francis waved a hand dismissively before reaching over to refill Matthew's glass. "I do not pay much attention to the news. I prefer to focus on positive things. Like my work, my patisserie. My friends. Art, music. Beautiful places. Beautiful people." Francis' compelling gaze held Matthew's as he pushed the glass towards him. "You, my dear." Francis' tone was blatantly seductive, the flash of his eyes sending a familiar shiver firing from Matthew's stomach downwards. Matthew picked up the glass to hide his reddening cheeks, but refused to lower his eyes. The lingering gaze was abruptly interrupted when a chair slammed down beside them and a dark haired man fell into it heavily. He leant against the table, his green eyes wide and unblinking, a daft but strangely discerning smile on his face.

"Hi."

"Hi," replied Matthew uncertainly, leaning away and holding the wine glass to his chest. What now? Another friend or cousin of Francis'? Why did they keep interrupting at the times like this?

The man's eyes flicked between Matthew and Francis, his expression positively beaming. "Hi."

Matthew wasn't sure whether to again respond in kind. Francis let out a resigned sigh. "Matthew, this is Antonio, a particularly irritating friend of mine. Antonio, can I help you? What are you even doing here?"

Antonio didn't answer. He leant towards Francis and hissed through clenched teeth, "Gilbert told me you had a boyfriend."

Matthew's stomach flipped at the word. Boyfriend… Francis just rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."

"He's cute." Antonio spoke in an exaggerated whisper.

"I know."

"He chose the éclair, didn't he?"

Matthew felt his cheeks burn. Did all of Francis' friends know about that? Francis glared at Antonio, who just smiled at Matthew obliviously. "What is this… this thing you're doing?"

Antonio turned to Francis, puzzled. "Thing?"

Francis let out an exasperated breath and touched his forehead. "This whispering thing. He can still hear you, you stupid Spaniard, he's right there."

Antonio scratched his head, turned back to Matthew, and broke back into a grin. "So pleased to meet you, Matthew. You're much better than looking than most of Francis' dates."

Now Francis hissed through clenched teeth. "Shut up."

Antonio ignored him. "Not that they're not good looking, only the very best for our Francis!"

Francis smiled desperately. "Please shut up."

Antonio beamed brightly. "So it's a compliment, you see."

Francis looked about ready to grab Antonio by the throat. "Oh mon Dieu, why can't you ever just shut up?"

Matthew listened silently, a small concern prodding gently at his mind. Feliciano had mentioned Francis' dates earlier, also. And then there was Francis and Gilbert's strange, whispered conversation that afternoon. Maybe Francis really did have some secrets hidden away…

Antonio waved a hand in Francis' face. "Shush, Francis. Matthew, you are coming to Gilbert's party tomorrow night, yes?"

Matthew shook the concern away and told himself not to be silly. So Francis went on a few dates. So what? That didn't mean that he wasn't interested in Matthew. After all, most guys dated a lot. But Matthew had never acted or spoken with anyone like this. It was like Francis brought out a part of him he never knew was there. And now he couldn't help wondering if Francis felt the same. He couldn't completely silence the tiny voice that asked – Does Francis treat everyone like this?

Matthew suddenly remembered he had been asked a question, but Francis spoke before he could answer. "Speaking of Gil's surprise party, Antonio…"

Antonio groaned loudly. "Oh, will everyone stop already, you know what he's like! It wasn't even me who told him, Feliciano let it slip that we were doing something! And then Gil cornered me in the kitchen, and threatened me with a spoon, and said that he'd tell Lovino about that lap dance in New York…"

"What lap dance in New York?"

Matthew felt the atmosphere turn cold. He glanced up at the young man beside them. One hand held a platter of bread and olives; the other rested rigidly on his hip. He looked very similar to Feliciano, but with darker hair and an angrier expression. Antonio turned white, then chuckled nervously. "Lovino, baby! That was something involving Gilbert, nothing to do with me!" Antonio shot Francis a manically gleeful stare. "Right, Francis?"

Francis shrugged distantly, his expression mildly triumphant. "I've nothing to do with this, mon ami." Antonio narrowed his eyes, but Francis just smirked.

Lovino raised his chin and stared down at Antonio shrewdly. "Hmm. We'll see. Antonio, get your fabulous ass back in the kitchen. We're understaffed and you're supposed to be helping."

"I'm being social!" Antonio whined indignantly.

Lovino tilted his head slowly, a dangerous glint in his eye. "New York, was it?"

Antonio almost knocked the chair over in his haste to get to his feet. "I must be off! See you tomorrow night, Matt! Francis…" Antonio leant over the table and hissed in Francis' ear, just loud enough for Matthew to overhear. "Not one word. Don't forget that I've got far more dirt on you than you'll ever have on me, amigo." Antonio straightened up, kissed Lovino on the cheek, and rushed back to the kitchen.

"Thank you, Lovino," said Francis, his pleasant tone starting to sound a little strained. "Matthew, this is my other little Italian cousin."

Lovino dropped the platter on the table with a dull thud. He kept his eyes fixed on Francis and spoke before Matthew could say a word. "Whatever. Here's your entrée. What lap dance in New York?"

Francis' expression remained impassive as he picked up an olive from the plate. "Do you know, I believe you should bring that up with Roderich."

Lovino glared at Francis, then glanced sideways at Matthew. Matthew smiled tentatively back. "Right," said Lovino. He put his hands on the table and leant over Francis. "You'd better not be hiding anything from me, cugino. Don't go forgetting the things I know about you." Francis popped the olive in his mouth and smiled. Lovino stood straight, nodded at Matthew, then turned and marched into the kitchen.

Francis closed his eyes, released a deep breath, took a long sip of wine, and smiled apologetically. "I am truly sorry. But, where were we? Tell me more about… you." Francis wagged his eyebrows and Matthew suppressed a laugh. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and tried to look unimpressed.

"Really? Now? That's your line?"

Francis groaned and fell back in his chair. "It's no use, is it. I'm completely obstructed in here."

Matthew lowered his head to hide his amused smile. It was nice to see Francis as the flustered one, for once. "Well," he said, brushing his hair back and trying to wipe his smile away, "I've been telling you about me all week. There's not much more to tell."

Francis raised an eyebrow deviously. "There is always more to tell."

"Oh?" Matthew straightened up and raised his chin. "All right then, François." Francis upper lip twinged at the teasing tone. "Tell me. Why did you leave Paris? Some scandal, perhaps?" Matthew gasped softly, dramatically. "A jilted lover? A political outrage? A dangerous past starting to catch up with you?"

A tiny eyebrow twitch; the slightest rise at the corner of Francis' lip. He lowered his lashes and said breathily, "Do you really wish to know, mon cher?"

Matthew rested his chin on his hand and leant forward across the table. "I told you once, remember? I'd love to hear all your dirty secrets."

Francis groaned at the back of his throat, then sucked in a breath through his teeth. He shot forward until he was so close Matthew could feel his warm breath on his cheek. "If you insist. The truth is…"

"Where is he?" A deep, accented voice suddenly boomed through the noisy restaurant. "Where is the boy my Francis finally brought home to his grandpa?"

Matthew laughed in disbelieving disappointment. Francis closed his eyes and put his hands to his head. "Mathieu, my dear, we can leave right now…"

Matthew sat back and smirked. "I'm actually sort of enjoying watching you squirm."

Francis' blue eyes flashed then narrowed. "You sadistic little… Grandpa Roma!" Francis stood quickly and was immediately embraced by a tall, dark haired man who kissed both his cheeks. Matthew smiled pleasantly, prepared himself to remain polite and quiet and civil, and wondered how long this interruption would take.

"Francis, my boy! Where have you been lately? Too busy for your own family? No time to see your old grandpa?" Francis' grandfather looked surprisingly young. He had the same features as Feliciano and Lovino, but Matthew could see Francis in the man's wild gestures and dancing eyes. He held Francis at arm's length and looked him up and down. "Are you eating properly, Francis? You can't live on cake and biscuits, my boy!"

Francis' face was red. Matthew couldn't help thinking it was rather endearing. "Yes, Grandpa, I know. Now, please…"

"And, Matthew!" Roma released Francis and turned. Matthew scrambled to his feet and held out his hand, but, once again, was pulled into a strong hug. "Welcome, benvenuto!"

"Um… pleased to meet you…" Matthew choked out. Roma released him and he gasped for air. He was then pushed to arms length as Roma looked him over. From the corner of his eye Matthew could see Francis standing with one hand over his face.

"Oh, aren't you handsome!" cried Roma. "Good taste does run in the family. Well done, Francis, my boy, well done! What do you do, Matthew?"

"I'm an accountant," Matthew answered quickly.

"Accountant, hmm? What kind of tax breaks can you swing for us?" Matthew tried to stammer an uncertain response before Roma clapped him on the shoulder and laughed raucously. "Joking, I'm joking, Matthew!"

"Are you done?" asked Francis through tightly stretched lips. "I didn't actually realise the entire family would be working tonight." Francis' voice was dangerously strained.

"Of course you didn't! I'm sure you have more important things to do than be interrupted by your obnoxious relatives all evening. So…" Roma whistled and, seconds later, a waiter appeared carrying a plastic bag of food containers and a second bottle of wine. Roma smiled at Matthew and winked. "So get out of here."

Matthew decided he liked Francis' grandpa.

.

"This is incredible!" said Matthew for the third time, halfway through the most delicious carbonara he'd ever tasted. He had barely even paused so far to worry about the mess he was probably making, trying to eat fettuccine off his knees from a plastic container with a plastic fork. Of course he knew there were a few sauce stains on his shirt, and he was hyper-aware of Francis' eyes on him, but these smooth, rich, bursting tastes on his tongue made all of that too unimportant to worry about. Francis laughed softly beside him.

"The best pasta outside of Italy. Perhaps, even, anywhere."

Matthew stared out at the bright lights reflected on the water. This place really wasn't as bad as he had thought at first. Sitting here on this bench beside Francis, eating pasta and passing a wine bottle back and forth, the city actually looked quite beautiful. The night was strangely warm despite the season, a light dusting of stars shone faintly above the glittering skyline, and few people passed them where they sat on the walkway by the river. Matthew swallowed another mouthful of the creamy pasta, then glanced at Francis from the corner of his eye. "So, making magic with food is a family trait, is it?"

"A gift, and a curse." Matthew raised an eyebrow curiously. Francis' eyes twinkled with familiar mischief. "Legend has it that a distant relative was head chef to an Emperor of Rome."

"Oh?" With an effort, Matthew kept his twitching lips from turning in a smile. "Which one?" he asked, straight faced.

Francis waved a hand with effortless grace. He had finished his own pasta, but was still as perfectly neat and refined as always. Francis ate as elegantly as he did everything else. "Oh, one of those emperors who liked his food, you know."

"Caligula?" Matthew guessed randomly.

"Oui, yes, that will do. Anyway, this story goes, that the Emperor was to hold a very large, very important feast. The night before the feast, he called his head chef to the throne. The Emperor then told him that if he did not create the most wondrous, most amazing, most delicious meal ever tasted, then he would have the chef crucified." Francis paused to take a sip of wine from the bottle, then passed it to Matthew. "The chef was, naturally, rather worried. So he called upon the dark God of the underworld, Hades."

"As you do." Matthew hid a smirk by taking a swig from the bottle.

Francis' eyes narrowed just slightly, but he continued smoothly. "He made a pact with the God. In exchange for the greatest culinary talent known to the world, the chef would give his soul to the dark underworld. And in return, all his descendants would be blessed with the same talent, and the same curse. Unless…" Francis trailed off teasingly.

"Unless?" prompted Matthew, his eyes held to Francis' in an amused, magnetic gaze.

"Unless, through their talent, the descendant is able to make just one good, pure hearted person fall in love with them. If we can do this, we are saved from the curse."

Matthew raised his eyebrows sceptically. "One of pure heart? It's like a Disney movie."

Francis' voice, always smooth as liquid sugar, came slightly deep, amused, and almost rough. "Someone like you, mon cher."

A shudder of desire rippled through Matthew's spine, but he laughed dismissively and looked back out at the river. "How many boys have you given that line to, I wonder."

Francis ignored him. "But, there is a catch."

Matthew took a sip of the strong red wine. "Isn't there always."

"I feel you aren't taking this seriously, my dear." Matthew felt his eyes drawn back, and Francis' eyes seemed to challenge him. The look set Matthew's skin afire. He attempted a sarcastic smile, but wasn't sure he pulled it off.

"Oh no, please. Tell me. What's the catch?"

Francis reached for the wine bottle, wrapping his hand around Matthew's. Matthew felt the touch shoot downwards through his veins. Francis' returned Matthew's teasing smile… his was much more successful. "If we are able to make this good, pure hearted person fall in love with us, then we gain our soul… but we lose our talent."

"Is that right?" Matthew was fairly certain that his breathy tone ruined his attempt at sarcasm. "If that's the case then… is it worth it?"

Francis slowly raised the bottle to his lips, not releasing Matthew's hand around it. He drank slowly, his eyes not moving from Matthew's. "Love or renown. It is an easy choice, no?"

Matthew felt suddenly too vivid, too aware. Francis' firm warmth beside him, the gentle pressure of his fingers, the siren flash of his eyes. But even in this close, falling, blood-quickening moment, Matthew tried to shake the worries from his head, his concerns about the constant mentions of dates and boyfriends, the nagging doubt about how many times Francis had said these words. "It is an interesting legend," he finally managed to say. "Do you think you will evade the curse?"

Francis smiled and winked. "I'm working on it."

Matthew dropped his gaze, his neck burning. He put the lid back on the plastic container and placed it on the bench beside him, then took another sip from the wine bottle. He was beginning to really feel it's effects. "So, Francis," he asked abruptly. "Why did you leave?"

"Leave?" asked Francis, confused.

"Why did you leave Paris for Canada?"

Francis turned to face Matthew on the bench, then rested his elbow on the backrest behind them. "I hunger for new experiences, Mathieu. You never know what life will bring you. Sometimes it is hard to leave what you have always known; but then, sometimes it brings you something you would otherwise never have dreamt of."

Matthew felt warmth fill his chest at the words. It was like Francis was describing Matthew's own experience. He never would have dreamt that leaving his small, quiet town would lead him to someone like Francis. The entire evening since they had left the restaurant had flowed evenly, easily. It was so natural to talk with Francis, to just be with him. But more than natural; it was exciting. The not so subtle glances, the bright and hidden smiles, the flicks of hair and bitten lips and brief brushes of hands and feet. The awareness that they both knew what was going on and where this was leading; the sweet anticipation and aching wait to get there. But now that the night was growing quieter, and the silences between them longer, Matthew could not stop his mind going again through the earlier conversations. He asked the question before he properly thought it through. "Do you go on a lot of dates, Francis?"

Francis' sharp breath and brief silence gave the answer. But then he laughed flippantly. "Please, it is nothing. You know how friends and family are. They love to make such drama out of nothing."

Matthew accepted the response for the moment. After all, it was not his place to pry. "I understand. Alfred is the same."

"I would like to meet Alfred."

The very thought of it drained the blood from Matthew's face. He shook his head, eyes wide. "No."

Francis smiled, even as his expression turned puzzled. "Why not?"

Matthew said it before he could stop himself. "Because everyone likes him best."

Francis looked amused and sceptical. "We will see about that. But let us not speak of your brother. You did not tell me about work today."

Matthew could feel his face fall. He shrugged and stared at the river. "There is nothing to tell. It was the same as every day."

"You do not like your job."

Matthew's eyes shot up. Francis rested his chin on his hand, a mixture of curiosity and empathy on his face. Matthew sighed and shrugged one shoulder. "It is a job. I am lucky."

"But it is not a passion."

Matthew frowned, a little annoyed – what an unfair thing to say. "Very few people get to do what they love, Francis."

"And what do you love?" Matthew didn't answer. He didn't know how to answer. Francis just asked again. "What did you want to be? As a child?"

Matthew laughed shortly. "A professional hockey player."

"And why did you give up?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "It's not a very feasible goal, is it?"

"Well, even if it is not... you love to skate? To play?"

Matthew looked down into the almost empty bottle as he thought about the question. He did love skating - so much. He hadn't thought of it in years. Because, well… because it was pointless, wasn't it? "Well… yes, but…"

"Do you still skate?" Matthew looked up at that. In the reflected light from the river, Francis' eyes seemed to pierce right through him.

"No. I have no time. But..." Matthew was unsure why he paused.

Francis tilted his head slightly. "But?"

"Well..." Memories rose unbidden. Gliding alone on a lake of ice as his breath misted before him and the sun descended in the clear, darkening sky. Racing across a busy skating rink, easily dodging slower skaters and leaving Alfred struggling to catch up behind. The heart racing excitement before every game, the wild, giddy thrill of winning which nothing since had ever managed to match. "I loved hockey as a kid. Even just skating around on the ice, on my own. I always thought it would be nice to own a little skating rink, one without the politics and snobbery you sometimes get. Just somewhere friendly, where kids could learn, with hockey and dance lessons and a little café by the rink." Matthew shrugged and brushed his hair back, a little embarrassed. "Huh. I've never told anyone that." Matthew startled when he felt Francis' hand touch his, brushing the hair from his face. The touch raised goosebumps on Matthew's neck.

Francis met Matthew's gaze, and was quiet for a few moments. His voice, when he spoke, was not teasing or laughing or rough. It was simply honest. "I hope to hear many more things you have never told anyone."

.

The walk to Francis' patisserie took twice as long as it should have. They ambled along slowly, arms almost touching, Matthew's stomach twisting in knots every time their hands brushed together briefly. They had barely spoken since leaving the river, but it felt perfectly comfortable like this. Like they did not need to speak. When Francis suddenly stopped it took Matthew a few moments to notice why - they were standing at the patisserie door. His twisting stomach flipped completely. He turned slowly to face Francis, their eyes meeting level.

"So. Well. Um. Thank you for your company." Matthew found himself reverting to politeness, as he always did when slightly nervous. "And for asking me to dinner. I had a wonderful time."

"I can not apologise enough for earlier..." Francis looked down at the ground and ran a hand through his loose blond hair. "Ah, it was a complete disaster."

Matthew snickered softly. "Well, yes. But interesting."

Francis sighed dramatically and raised his eyes from the ground to the sky. "How I wanted out first date to be perfect and romantic, darling. Not… 'interesting.'"

"Oh, it wasn't so bad." Matthew was actually rather relieved that Francis was not always as suave and perfectly charming as he had been at first. Matthew did not know how long he could have kept up with that. "Besides, this is turning out rather 'perfect and romantic' right here."

"Hm." Francis sighed softly and lowered his eyes again. "I do believe you may be correct, Monsieur."

Matthew's heart beat faster at Francis' piercing stare. "Besides, I enjoyed meeting your family. And I'll get to meet more of your friends tomorrow also, won't I?"

Francis' eyes narrowed, his expression slightly devious. "You're meeting far too many from my side. I shall have to get even, my dear."

Matthew shrugged apologetically. "It's only Alfred on my side, I'm afraid. Or, well, there is Kumajiro."

Francis' eyebrows shot up. He looked rather thrown. "Kumajiro?"

Matthew met Francis' eye as evenly as he could manage. "Yes. He lives with me. He shares all my secrets, and sleeps in my bed every day, and watches over me every evening." At Francis' puzzled expression, Matthew gave in and smiled. "My teddy bear."

Francis' face softened and he chuckled lightly. "Well. Just when I think you can get no more adorable, my darling."

Matthew looked down and wondered just where this was going: the constant eye contact, the hand brushing, this fluttering heat and this warm, familiar feeling. But he didn't want to push, he didn't want to mistake this, he didn't… but then Francis took a step towards him and rested his hand lightly on Matthew's hip. Matthew's eyes flew up and his lips parted. Heat spread from Francis' hand over his hip, across his back, through his stomach, shooting lower and spreading like fire. Francis' blue eyes burned into his and sent a flutter through Matthew's shoulders. He leant closer and, just as Matthew realised Francis was about to kiss him, he closed the final gap himself. Their lips touched firmly, softly, and Matthew moaned, unable to stop it.

This culmination of the week's glances and touches and playful words shot through Matthew like a jolt of electricity. He rested his hands on Francis' shoulders, then lowered them over his back. Francis pulled him closer by the hips and thrust further into the kiss. And oh, not that Matthew had a lot to compare him to, but Francis was the most amazing kisser in Matthew's limited experience. His tongue so light and firm, his lips gentle but strong, his soft hair tickling Matthew's cheek and smelling faintly of lavender; the overwhelming sense of Francis' feel and scent, the taste of tomato and mint and still the faintest hint of chocolate… Matthew reluctantly broke the kiss to gasp for air, faintly aware that he had barely breathed for a minute or so. He laughed shakily, his arms still holding to Francis firmly.

"Well," said Francis breathlessly, his lips brushing Matthew's as he spoke, "I suppose it is true what they say about hockey players."

Matthew quickly wracked his brains for an explanation. "Something about sticks?"

Francis stifled an amused snicker. "No. That they find an opening and get it in." Matthew just stared for a moment, a little thrown off. Thankfully, Francis clarified. "Hockey players. Find an opening. It's a dreadfully bad pun, I know. Um... this is terribly awkward. Can we just kiss again, please?"

Matthew nodded quickly. "Yes." The second kiss was as powerful as the first, but with bright, uncontainable laughter rising between their lips. Matthew had never felt something so right as this, so comfortable, so perfectly natural and easy and knee-weakingly arousing.

But what now? Was Francis going to ask him to come in? Was that how this worked? Matthew had only been on a few dates, but from what everyone said Francis seemed to have been on so many. He suddenly worried again just what that meant. Then he worried about that strange look of conflict in Francis' eyes, that slight uncertainty in his face, and again Matthew feared he had done something wrong. He started to drop his hands, but Francis grasped his arms at the last minute. "Have breakfast with me."

Matthew could only nod. "What time do you want me?" The words came out breathier than he intended. Francis groaned.

"Don't tempt me. As early as you can be here, darling. I start baking at four."

Matthew bit his lip, nodded, and tried to tell himself this was a good sign. Francis wasn't inviting him in, but he obviously still wanted to see him – he probably just wanted to take things slowly. "I like to sleep in on Saturday," said Matthew in what he hoped was an indifferent tone. "Shall we say, eight?"

"Mm." Francis pulled Matthew close again by the waist. All thoughts of indifference flew away at Francis' lips on his cheek, his lips, his jaw, his ear… "I shall await your arrival with bated breath and maple syrup crepes."

Matthew laughed shakily at the hot breath on his ear. "Then I shan't be late… mon cher."

.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#la patisserie de la rose chapter 3

[superteenwolftrash]

Live a Little/Silas Smut

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)

Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Request:  Hi!!! I came back to request another Silas imagine I just love your blog so much, can you write a Silas imagine where the reader and Silas basically have the same relationship as Caroline and Klaus, could you maybe add smut in it? thankyou so much!!!!

Request:  Hii can you write a vampire diaries one shot where the reader and silas have to go undercover as a couple somwhere to help the mystic falls group and the reader ends up enjoying spending the night as his girlfriend then they go back to the readers place and have sex?

Literally as soon as I come back from Whitmore to visit Mystic falls I of course get roped into another one of Stefan and Damon's plans. "You expect me to play pretend and be in a relationship with him?" I groaned as I gestured to Silas, who was playing with his magic and had fire coming from his finger tips. I scoffed at him.  "I can barely say his name without vomiting!" I added, "Now that's just rude." Silas fake pouted. I glared at him, "Well I'm just thrilled!" Silas said with a smile, rubbing his hands together. "Why not have Caroline or Bonnie do it?" I asked, "Because we need him and he'll only go with you." Stefan explained, "You guys owe me!" I told them, I grabbed my jacket. "Lets go and get this over with." I stated, grabbing my jacket and heading towards the door. "Come on sweetheart! Who know? Maybe you'll enjoy yourself." Silas said cockily, I rolled my eyes at him "Doubt it." I told him. "Why are you helping us anyway?" I asked, as I started driving to the bar where the witch we needed was located. "Would you believe me if I said I was doing this out of the kindness of my heart?" He asked, "No. You don't have a heart." I said glancing over at him, "Good because I'm not." He chuckled. "I'm actually just trying to get to you." He admitted. "There was this girl I met a very long time ago. Fell madly in love with her. You remind me a lot of her." Silas explained, "Woah lets keep our life stories to ourselves." I said, quickly getting out of my car. Silas opened the door to the bar, although I definitely wasn't old enough to be there nobody gave me a second look. Silas and I sat down at a table and a waitress came over, "What can I get for ya?" She asked with a smile, "My Girlfriend and I would like two shots of vodka." Silas said, giving me a cocky smile the entire time. "Two each." He added and the waitress walked away. "We aren't here to drink." I reminded him, "Oh come on. Live a little." Silas said leaning back in his chair. "Y/N? Stefan? What are you guys doing in here?" I heard and I turned toward the voice, it was once of my professors. "Oh we uh-" I started but Silas took the lead. He compelled the teacher to forget he saw us there. "I guess you have some use." I said and Silas smirked. Our shots came and I thought what the hell what could happen? I actually was having a good time. We got the information that we needed after Silas flirted with the Witch. We laughed and we danced and we drank. Neither of us were even buzzed, we got into my car. I started mindlessly driving back to my house, I called Stefan and gave him all the information that we got. I pulled into my driveway and I turned my car off, I quickly got out of my car and Silas leaned against it. I unlocked my door and he raised a brow at me, "So you gonna stand there for the rest of the night?" I asked and Silas shook his head quickly before following me inside. My parents worked nights at the hospital so they weren't home. Maybe it was the few shots but all I knew was that I had a good time and I didn't want it to end. We went up to my room and Silas walked around, tracing my pictures with his fingers. "You were saying I reminded you of someone. What about me reminds you of her?" I asked curiously, taking my jacket off. "Well for starters she didn't like me at first either." He said with a chuckle. "What makes you think I like you?" I sassed, he just brushed it off. "She was very confident in herself. She never thought twice about the decisions that she made. She was always so sure of herself." He explained, "You're like that." He said turning towards me. "She was a really good person." Silas stated, "Then how did she end up with you?" I asked, it came out harsher than I had meant. "Sorry." I said quietly, "That's alright. I wasn't always like this, you know? I was good. But the world changes you and trust me I've had plenty of time on this world." He told me, I understood what he meant. Even after only a little while of being involved with the whole supernatural world I wasn't who I use to be. "I'm gonna do something." I said, standing up from my place on the bed. "But I swear if you tell anyone, I'll kill you." I said stepping toward Silas. "Is that a threat?" He chuckled, "No. it's a promise." I said and before he could respond I pressed my lips to his gently. But that kiss turned into anything but innocent, our tongues meshed together. Articles of clothing starting coming off, Silas pushed me back on my bed. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling his bare chest against mine. His lips only left mine so they could attach to my neck, sucking harsh purple marks that wouldn't go away for days. I slapped his shoulder and he pulled away, "No marks." I informed him, I couldn't have anyone knowing I slept with the enemy. Silas rolled his eyes, he pulled down his jeans along with his boxers and I flipped us over. Just because he couldn't leave marks doesn't mean that I couldn't. I attached my lips to his collar bone, sucking and biting. Making sure just to leave marks, it was pointless though because in seconds they would disappear. I let out a sigh before I grabbed Silas's now hard cock and I positioned him at my entrance. A groan left his lips as I wrapped my hand around his cock, now normally I would've made him put a condom on first but vampire whatever he was can't procreate. I sunk down on his length and a strangled moan left my lips, I felt his hips buck up. My hands flatted against his chest as I rocked back and forth slowly. A growl left his lips and apparently that wasn't enough for him because he wrapped his arm around my waist and flipped us over. His hand held my hip tightly as he pounded into me, the only words I could seem to form were curses. Although I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't tell what I was saying by how much I was moaning. I could feel Silas's eyes on mine, I couldn't seem to keep my own open. I felt my orgasm approaching and so could Silas, he reached between us and started rubbing my clit, adding pressure. If that wasn't enough he attached his lips to my nipple, completely sending me into oblivion. My body was shaking, I had never came harder in my life. "Silas!" I moaned, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you moan my name." He groaned, I guess that sent him over the edge because seconds later I felt his cum fill me up. He pulled out and we were both breathless, "Nobody will find out about this." I told him, "Afraid that if they find out it will make this all real and you'll fall completely in love with me?" Silas asked, as if it were the most reasonable option to him. "Do you want me to pinky swear?" He asked sarcastically, holding out his pinky. 

#Silas #Silas smut #Silas imagine #vampire diaries #vampirediariesmut #vampiredaires #vampire diaries imagine #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore smut

[hannahberrie]

Something That Finds You: Chapter 10

Fandom: Zootopia Pairing: Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps Rating: T WC: 3261 Summary: "Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you."

In a time of tension in the land of Zootopia, Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are arranged to be married as a symbol of peace and unity. The only problem? They can't stand each other (the 8 year age gap doesn't help either). A story following Nick and Judy growing up together, through all the good and bad.

Chapter Selection: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9]-10-[11][12] [AO3]

Something had changed. Nick could sense it. Ever since their time at the waterfall, Judy was less hostile towards him, which was a relief. He’d never gotten that ink stain out of his pants, which was definitely difficult to explain to his mother, not to mention just annoying.

When her siblings asked him to share stories of his travels, he noticed that Judy, rather than throw him a dirty glare, would turn her ears in his direction, though her physical demeanor still feigned disinterest. When he cracked a joke under his breath during lessons, she was more likely to snort into her paws, instead of kicking him in the shins. This was probably the best development so far, because if there was one thing Judy could do well, it was kick. Hard.

He was happy that they were getting along better. The more time that passed, the more he started to see her not as a pipsqueak kit, but a fully-grown, confident young bunny. A bunny that was far more tolerable than he remembered, a bunny that he could actually sit down with and have a coherent conversation with. A bunny that he liked.

Not liked liked. No, no, no. The idea of marrying her, no matter how hard he willed himself to feel otherwise, was still unsavory. While an amiable relationship was beginning to bud between the two (at least, that’s what he hoped was happening), he still felt no romantic affections towards the bunny. All his life, he’d only found himself romantically attracted to vixens, and as far as he knew, that hadn’t changed yet. Which was fine. Their situation could be worse. Inky and kicky worse.

As Nick saw it, if they were going to be forced to marry, at least they could be friends. Hopefully.

He was stewing all of this over one afternoon, debating whether or not he should express any of this to her. The two were in the study, waiting for Miss Hufflethump to arrive for their lessons. Judy was seated beside him, fidgeting with the piece of parchment paper in front of her, attempting to fold it in several directions.  

Nick cocked an eyebrow as he eyed her. “Whatcha up to, Fluff?”

Judy glanced at him before smiling sheepishly. “I…uh…it’s nothing,” she answered quickly, smoothing out the parchment in front of her.

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Well, that’s what it was!” Judy claimed defensively, voice rising several octaves. “I’m just…bored! Yes! I’m bored from waiting for Miss Hufflethump to get here.”

Nick gave a long, heavy sigh as if he’d been arguing with Judy for two hours instead of two seconds. “You’re such a bad liar, Fluff. It’s adorable.”

“I am not!”

“You so are.”

“I’m not adorable! …Or a bad liar.”

“Just remind me to never commit any crimes with ya’, Carrots,” Nick said dryly, giving her a wry grin. “At your rate, the constables would be on us within minutes.”

For a moment, he saw a flash of some unknown emotion flicker across her face, and she looked away from him, ears slumping against her back. She was upset about something. But what? Why? Had he touched a nerve? He was just kidding around…

“So…uh…,” Nick continued, clearing his throat, “What were you doing with that paper? For real, this time.”

Judy glanced at him before reluctantly speaking. “I was trying to…mukkappercne.”

Nick frowned and leaned closer. “You’re gonna have to speak up, Fluff — my ears aren’t as big as yours.”

“I was trying to make a paper crane!” Judy repeated loudly, voice sounding torn between laughter and annoyance.

“Ah hah,” Nick smirked, leaning back in his chair. “So my skills do impress you.”

“No!” Judy insisted, voice rising again. He noticed that her nose twitched when she was lying, a useful bit of information he would have to store away for if he was ever to play cards with her.

“C’mere,” Nick motioned, beckoning her to lean closer, pay attention. He took the piece of parchment from her and walked her through the assembly of a crane, step-by-step. Once, mid-teach, he stopped to look up at her and caught sight of her wide, violet eyes, saw them move with every turn and press of his paws. She was completely focused, totally engrossed in learning every step.

It was cute.

“And there ya’ have it!” Nick finished, turning his attention back to his now finished paper crane. “One parchment bird, courtesy of Nick Wilde.”

Judy rolled her eyes but smiled. “Show-off.”

“You asked, Fluff!”

“I never asked you to show me!”

“Not verbally,” Nick admitted, “but your eyes!”

Judy blinked at him coyly, teasingly. “What about my eyes?”

Nick suddenly felt a wave of…something brush over him. His fur bristled and he felt his stomach flip. Nausea, probably, he reminded himself. That carrot omelet he’d had this morning was all kinds of weird. “Well, they give everything away. They’re your tell.”

“My tell?”

“A way for someone to tell when you’re lying,” He explained.

Judy snorted. “So I should just close my eyes every time I lie?”

“Yup.”

Judy burst out laughing, no doubt picturing how ridiculous that would look. “You’re so dumb!” She giggled, paws fiddling with the paper crane he’d made her.

Nick felt that weird sensation again, listening to her laugh. Stupid omelet. “Says the bunny.”

Judy nudged him just as Miss Hufflethump entered the room, causing both the bunny and fox to straighten in their seats. As she prepared her lesson materials at the front of the room, Nick’s mind returned to where it’d been earlier today, about marrying as friends. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but maybe this was something that they should discuss. Not that he was one to talk about his feelings, ever. But if they were going to spend the rest of their lives together…

“Hey, Fluff?” Nick muttered, causing her to turn to him.

“Yes?” She whispered back.

“Can we…uh…I wanted to ask you if—”

“Let’s begin!” Miss Hufflethump said loudly, cutting off the fox mid-sentence.

Judy gave him an apologetic look and turned her attention to the front of the room.

“We’ve spent the past months talking about social matters,” the elder bunny said, pushing her glasses up with a lace-gloved paw. “But now, I think it’s time we moved onto more interpersonal, intimate matters.”

Nick felt himself freeze. Wait a minute.

“Now, one of the most important components to running a successful household is to produce many heirs!” Miss Hufflethump began.

Nick heard Judy’s breath catch in her throat, felt her fidget in her seat.  

No. Nope. Nick wasn’t here right now. This wasn’t happening. Not with Judy seated literal INCHES away from him.

If Nick wasn’t blushing enough already, his cheeks nearly lit on fire once the elder bunny started drawing diagrams on the blackboard.

Yes. Diagrams.

As if that wasn’t enough, their instructor went on to describe exactly how the betrothed couple would go about following these diagrams, so that they could produce as many heirs as possible, all in far more graphic, scientific detail than Nick ever wanted to hear in his life.

“Now there’s never been a fox and bunny couple in recorded history, at least not that we know of,” Miss Hufflethump concluded, turning took look back at their slack-jawed faces, “So your coupling will be quite experimental!”

“Experimental?” Judy croaked, voice sounding hoarse.

“Yes, my dear! Since the odds aren’t necessarily in your favor, you two will have to try to procreate vigorously!”

Nick and Judy didn’t make eye contact for the rest of the day.

By far, late-summer was Judy’s favorite time of year for one, slightly predictable reason: it was carrot season. Nick could tease her all he wanted, but carrot season was exciting. The brown fields of Bunnyburrow, still faded from the summer heat, had begun to sprout little sprigs of green carrot tops. The blueberries patches were bright arrays of indigo and leafy greens, and the apple trees glistened with their ruby fruits in the warm summer sun.

To celebrate the upcoming plentiful Bunnyburrow harvest, the newly annual Carrot Days festival was to be held. It was the biggest thing to happen in Bunnyburrow since the Unity Proclamation (which wasn’t saying much, since those two events were the only big things to happen in Bunnyburrow). Mammals from all over the land of Zootopia would travel to Bunnyburrow for lively games, delicious foods, and jovial entertainment. Last year, Judy had met mammals from all walks of life, and from all parts of Zootopia. Some had even traveled all the way from Tundra Town and Sahara Square, just for the festival. It was almost as exciting as Christmas. Maybe even a little more so.

That was why when August rolled around, Judy completely devoted herself to planning for Carrot Days. She helped the artists design the banners, she organized the layout of the food stands, she made a schedule of all the entertainers’ performances, she did the calculations for how many blueberry pies would be needed for the pie-eating contest…

Needless to say, she was one busy bunny. If she wasn’t in lessons with Hufflethump and Nick, she was doing something for the festival. Anything, no matter how big or small. She wanted it all to be perfect.

“You’re overworking yourself, Jude,” her father lamented one evening over dinner. “Why don’t cha leave it to the help to do that kind of running around?”

“It is a little strange for a lady to do those kinds of things,” her mother agreed, “You should be planning what you’ll wear! The tailor is designing such lovely dresses for all your sisters…”

“That stuff is boring!” Judy huffed, poking at her carrots with a fork, “I like being active in the celebration! I want to actually make a difference!”

“Judith—”

“I happen to think Carro—Judy is doing a great job,” Nick said suddenly, causing her parents to look over at him in surprise. Throughout the whole dinner, he’d been rather quiet, observing the conversation with a passive indifference, choosing to let his mother chat up the rest of the Hopps family. But now that he was speaking, he had everyone’s undivided attention. “I mean, did you see the banners she designed? They’re amazing. We’re talking real high-quality banners here — the best I’ve ever seen, honestly.”

Some of Judy’s siblings snorted into their paws, trying to stifle their giggles. Even Lady Hopps couldn’t help but crack a smile at Nick’s wry quips. Judy’s father mumbled surly comments under his breath, but relented, evidently deciding it wasn’t worth an argument.

Judy beamed happily, thankful that she wasn’t going to receive yet another lecture on how she wasn’t the perfect lady-in-training. All thanks to…Nick?

The bunny took a tentative glance upwards and across the table, making eye contact with Nick for a single moment, and exchanging a smile for even less time than that. And in that single second of mutual solidarity, Judy couldn’t deny that it felt…nice.

Really nice.

After dinner, Judy retreated to the orchards. The sun was still on the cusp of setting, leaving the sky a bright orange and pink hue. She’d been hard at work picking blueberries earlier that day when dinner time had interrupted her. Now, she was free to finish without any interruptions. At least she was, until…

“Hiya, Carrots!”

Judy didn’t even have to look to know who had followed her. “What do you want, Nick?” She asked, not turning to face him. She was too busy counting how many baskets of blueberries she had filled.

“I don’t have to want something to talk to you, Judith,” Nick smirked, letting every last syllable of her full name fall off his tongue. “I just thought I might help you out with…what exactly is it that you’re doing?”

Judy turned to eye him over her shoulder. “Carrot Days is only 3 days away! These blueberries need to be delivered to the bakers in town. I was helping the staff pick some earlier, and now they just left them out here! They need to be loaded onto the carriages so they’re ready to be delivered tomorrow morning!”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “And this is your responsibility because…?”

“Because if I don’t help it won’t get done!” Judy insisted, pointing to the baskets of blueberries around her feet, so as to further emphasize her point. “This festival has to go perfectly!”

“Right…” Nick replied, sounding unconvinced. He walked over to the nearest bush and plucked a pawful of blueberries off, tossing them one by one into his mouth. ‘So what exactly is this Carrot Days thing?” He asked, mouth full of fruit.

“It’s a festival!” Judy replied. She had to stop herself from chastising him for eating potential pie ingredients. “To celebrate Bunnyburrow’s harvests!”

“I don’t remember it.”

“That’s because it’s new, my family came up with the idea 3 years ago. Now it’s an annual tradition.”

“And your latest obsession.”

“I’m not obsessed!” Judy exclaimed, voice getting all high-pitched again. She hated when that happened. “I’m not,” she repeated, voice more controlled this time.

“Well, it’s all you’ve been talking about for the past couple days.”

“No!”

“Oh, you’re right, sorry. I meant to say weeks.”

Judy rolled her eyes. “I just want it to go well, alright? It’s such an amazing festival…and it’s one of the only ‘unladylike’ things my parents will let me do.”

“Ah hah! There it is!” Nick smiled, pointing a finger at her. “While most teenagers act out by sneaking rum or egging buildings, you rebel by carting buckets of blueberries around. It all makes sense now.”

Judy felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “Shut up!” She huffed, unable to stop herself from smiling. “You’re so dumb.”

The two exchanged a light laugh that quickly died down into an awkward silence. Judy found herself staring at her feet, wondering what to say next. This was certainly different, as in the past, every moment between them had been charged with bickering and resentment.

Thankfully, the awkwardness didn’t last long, as Nick chose to break the silence. “Actually, there is something specific I came out here to talk about,” he said slowly, not quite looking at her.

“Oh?” Judy questioned, “And what is that?”

Nick shuffled his feet in place for a moment. Judy could practically hear him turning over his words in his head, carefully picking out and arranging his sentences. “Listen, Fluff,” the fox said slowly, carefully. “I know you’re not thrilled about the whole being-forced-to-marry-me thing. I know I’m not. But we don’t have to make it harder on ourselves.”

Judy eyed him cautiously. “What are you suggesting?”

Nick paused again. Judy couldn’t help but notice that his already orange fur looked especially fiery in the glow of the sunset. “I wanna be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, ya’ know, that kind of relationship where people mutually like each other?” A smirk grew on his face as his voice settled into his usual confident, couldn’t-care-less tone. “I guess I can’t really expect you to understand what a friend is, considering you don’t— ”

“Shut up!” Judy leaned forward and gave him a light punch in the arm before he could finish his jab. “I have friends, dumb fox.”

“The point is,” Nick smiled, rubbing at his arm slightly, “Even though we’re not in love, I think we could still try to view this whole wedding title as just that: a title. It doesn’t mean we should try to force ourselves to feel things that we don’t.”

Judy mulled over his words, not quite sure how to feel. It was true that she didn’t have any romantic feelings towards Nick, at least, not that she thought. She’d always thought that she’d just have to force the feelings out of her, just like she was forced to do everything else asked of her. It never occurred to her that there was another option.

“So…you’re suggesting…what are you suggesting, exactly?” Judy frowned. Her head was starting to hurt.

“That we can be pleasant to each other! If we’re going to be stuck together for the rest of our lives, at least we can be stuck together as friends.”

Judy’s eyes widened.

“Not like that!” Nick insisted, raising his paws and flushing even redder. “This has nothing to do with…heirs, or anything like that. I don’t know what we’re going to do about that. But I just want us to be friends! If I can’t marry someone I love, at least I could marry someone that I can at least hang out with, and talk with. Someone to have fun with.”

Judy hesitated. The idea held up so many complications — what were they going to do about heirs? And would this mean they would see other people in secret? Judy didn’t think she wanted to do that. The idea of Nick doing that bugged her on a deeper level. And what about their parents? They would still expect her and Nick to be a perfectly in love couple. That love would find them and they’d live happily ever after. But if it never did, then what? Wouldn’t they find out? Would it even matter, at this point?

All the questions and worries made Judy’s head hurt, and yet, when she took a moment to take a deep breath, it wasn’t that complicated at all. Nick was simply extending an olive branch, trying to call a truce and make the best of a difficult situation.

And if the choice was marrying a friend or marrying someone she refused to have any feelings for, Judy definitely would choose the former.

“So whaddya say?” Nick asked, holding out his paw to her. “Friends?”

Judy nodded and smiled, grasping his paw and shaking it. “Friends.”

Nick gave her a smile, one of the few (but increasingly frequent), genuine smiles. Judy returned the affection, pulling away only when she felt her gut flip in her stomach, for some reason. “So, uh, can you help me carry these baskets to the carriages?” Judy asked, turning her focus back to the blueberries. “I don’t think they should be left out here all night.”

“Nah, I think you’ve got it pretty much covered,” Nick replied casually, slipping his paws into his pockets. “Besides, you’re so good at carrying things all on your own. I wouldn’t want to come between you and your natural, God-given talent, now would I?”

Judy gave him a look.

“Alright, alright, if you insist,” Nick sighed, bending down to pick up a basket. He winced under the weight, eyeing Judy incredulously as she lifted hers with ease. “Anything for my bunny wifey.”

“I’m not your wifey.”

“Future wifey.”

Judy flicked a blueberry at his head.

#wildehopps #zootopia #berrie fics #zootopia fanfiction #wildehopps fanfiction #disney fanfiction #arranged marriage au #wilde hopps #nick x judy #judy x nick #zoo 3 fic

[spyvstailor]

Here you are, chapter two of that Dragon Age thing. Uh, there’s a guest appearance. Hope I did them justice.

Chapter Two

“Hold on! Lothering caught fire ten years ago!”

Wenceslaus paused as one of the dense looking highwaymen spoke up from his spot nearby.

“You couldn't haf bin wanderin' that forest fer ten years,” the leader added, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Offering the men a broad grin, flashing that silver capped fang of his, Wenceslaus moved on smoothly. “Why, gentlemen and...lady?” He eyed the rat toothed woman, before quirking a brow and explaining, “haven't you ever heard of poetic license?”

“Yer too well spoken fer a horseman's son,” another highwayman argued.

“Elocution lessons, my mother saved up for them for an entire year, put the coins in an old--”

The highwayman leader cleared his throat sternly and folded his arms. “Kill 'em.”

“Alright, fine!” Wenceslaus said, holding his hands up before him. “I am the elocution tutor. I was raised in Orlais and my accent is impeccable, my latest charges--” a sword was aimed at his chest and Wenceslaus immediately ground to a halt.

“I fink,” the leader growled, “yer a nobleman.”

Laughing jovially, Wenceslaus prepared to continue his arguing, but his mind was quick, like an iron trap.

“Very well, gentlemen, you are too sharp for me.” He laughed nervously. “I...” the words fell dead on his tongue.

“Maybe we'll ask yer Elf,” the rat toothed woman gloated, moving up tight against the Dalish Elf.

The creature remained marmoreal on his log throne.

“He...doesn't speak our language, he's simple.”

As the rag was removed from his mouth, the Elf wet his lips, before hissing, “may I set some truths free from the trap of his lies?” He asked in a soft, deep, lilted tone.

Wenceslaus jerked his chin to his chest, affronted at the beast.

“Why not?” The highwayman leader sighed. “We have no where to be and you die at dawn. Speak, Elf.”

“It did begin in the Brecilian Forest,” the Elf began calmly. “But it was not darkspawn the woman with the book was running from, nor was she met with such able bodied help from the seth'lin.”

There was such a calm beauty to the Brecilian Forest.

Despite the Sylvan and the old ghosts of Werewolves that haunted the mists and shadows of the woods, the forest was peaceful.

For an entire night and part of the following day, Vaelyn had sat up in the trees, guarding over the ruins he had only just come upon in his hunt.

There was a small, merry fire that crackled at the entryway and a bedroll unfurled beside it.

In the middle of the ruin, with her head bowed to a book, a shemlen woman sat completely unaware of the wild nature of the woods surrounding her, so lost was she in her book, that Vaelyn watched her for an entire night and part of a day and still she was unaware that he was there.

He wasn't even trying to hide himself in the tree, standing on the thick branch, gazing down at her with curious eyes.

His clan had kept far from the humans and the cities, they preferred the wilds and the forests, so humans to him were like a golden halla. Rare and almost mythical.

And this bold shemlen just sat there, reading her book, munching on a ripe fruit and every now and then stoking her fire.

Part of him wanted to kill her, just to end this torment of endless watching, but another part of him wanted to approach her, to see what she was like up close, to catch the wafting scent of a human in his nostrils.

Gazing across the ruins to where he knew his young sister would be in her own tree, he wondered if she wasn't getting as impatient as he was. She was kinder than him and many years younger, so he knew she wouldn't be wanting blood just yet.

Raising his head, he caught the dead silence of the birds in the woods and realized something was coming upon them all. Easing down into a crouch on the limb, he reached for his bow, pulling it from his back. In the woods he used a bow because the dual daggers he usually used in combat were worse than useless.

With his eyes darting everywhere, he waited for whatever was approaching to show itself.

And then from the mouth of the ruin entrance a figure darted.

Vaelyn loaded his arrow and took aim, waiting to register the creature as friend or foe before firing.

As the figure approached the shemlen, he prepared to release the arrow, but stopped with a small gasp.

The blood smeared across the features of the Dalish Elf gave him cause to both reel in shock and worry for his brother.

Hurredly, he slipped from his spot in the tree, as the human finally noticed the Elf approaching her and jumped to her feet.

Racing towards the ruins, Vaelyn skidded under a low hanging branch and took aim again with his bow, as the shemlen raced past him, the bloodied Elf after her,sword drawn.

This Elf was not one of his people, she bore strange markings on her face.

“Ma banal las halamshir var vhen, lethallan,” Vaelyn commanded, getting between his Elvhain sister and the fleeing shemlen.

The Elvhain woman turned hard, glittering eyes on him and swung her sword at him.

Vaelyn ducked the blow and tumbled away, jumping up to find her sword embedded where his neck might have been.

“Atisha!” He barked, raising his hands. “Tel garas solasan.”

From out of the ruins came a handful more of blood covered Elvhain women and Vaelyn was hastily joined by his sister, who gripped his wrist and tugged him from the ruins.

“Garas, Vaelyn!” His sister ordered.

With hesitation, he followed her through the woods, the blood soaked women at their heels, arrows from some of their archer's bow's zipping into the forest behind them.

Who were these strange Elvhain women? What form of blood magic ritual were they performing? Which clan did they hail from?

“Wait, what's wif the blood soaked bints?” The highwayman leader interrupted just as Wenceslaus demanded.

“Your name is Vaelyn?!”

The tight mouthed Elf blinked.

Feeling a little betrayed, Wenceslaus sniffed. “Yes, well, good luck hearing my story now.”

“The Dalish have a legend, it's more of a story told to misbehaving children of the Din'an Asha, the Death Women,” Vaelyn – so called – explained. “It was these that you saw, not darkspawn.”

“Yeah, well...they looked terrifyingly like darkspawn.”

Vaelyn was silent, eyes closing.

“Death Wommin? Sounds like a good go, what do they do den? Bugger you to death?” The rat toothed woman asked.

Wenceslaus thought about dying that way, before he shook his head to clear the shivers. “No, that's not how I imagined it.”

“They steal the girl children from out of their nests,” Vaelyn explained. “And they take the boy children and dash their skulls against the rocks, bathing in their blood to gain the strength of ten men before feasting on their flesh.”

“Is that what you saw?” One of the highwayman asked. “These Death Women?”

Vaelyn was quiet, contemplative, before he nodded. “Yes.”

The men of the gang began to whisper among themselves, tightening their grips on their weapons.

“My Keeper used to tell me a tale of his brother, who met with these women. They left him alive, but took his ability to procreate. They stuck it over an open flame and consumed it right there before him.”

Several looks were cast to the woods around them, even Wenceslaus spared the trees a quick glance.

“What do they look like?”

“Blood soaked maidens,” Vaelyn said. “A woman like any other, only soaked in the blood of men, their breath reeking of rotten flesh. And once they get the scent of you, you’re hunted and good as dead.”

A twig snapped in the woods to the right of the camp and it had most of the highwaymen jumping to their feet.

From out of the darkness to their left a woman stepped into the light cast by the campfire, the blood coating her face and gown shining black.

“Death woman!” One of the highwaymen shouted and half of them fled, the other half giving pause.

The Death Woman produced a blade from the strap on her back and shrieked.

It was such a wailing, rage filled shriek that even Wenceslaus' instincts to run kicked in.

“Have 'em!” The leader of the highwayman declared, running off with his men.

The camp was cleared right out save for the Death Woman and the prisoner's.

Stalking around the camp for a bit with her blade drawn, the Death Woman seemed to be claiming the camp as hers, before she approached Vaelyn, the blade slicing  down through the ropes that tied his wrists.

“You sly Elves,” Wenceslaus teased after a few minutes of silence, as the 'Death Woman' untied him. Reaching up, he cleaned away some nug blood from the young Elf woman's face. “Was it all an act?”

“I was merely playing off of the lies you wove, lethallin. I knew Orphael would return from her morning hunt soon enough and simply set about spooking the shem with old Elvhain spirit stories.”

Kneeling, Vaelyn released Wynona from the sack she was hiding in and stood up to eye the woods around them, his sister, still coated in blood, moved to join him in their vigilant watch.

“We shouldn't stay here,” Wynona suggested. “In case they find their courage to return.”

“You don't have to point out the high road to me, darling.”

“You really need to brush up on your history,” Wynona added, as she scooped up her precious book. “That almost got you killed.”

“Not me,” he replied easily. “I'm too charming. Maybe the Elf would have died. Think that ratty one liked him though so it was more likely he was about to become a husband to a rodent. Come along, we're almost to Redcliffe.”

The Redcliffe tavern was quiet when they entered, the group looking like a bunch of corpses walking, the smell of the dried blood on Vaelyn's younger sister beginning to turn Wenceslaus' stomach.

As the women headed up to their room to clean up, Wenceslaus eased down at a table with a couple of random strangers and helped himself to some bread and cheese.

The group eyed him angrily.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he returned cheerfully. “What's the news from out of Skyhold? Anything new on the whole, 'world isn't ending anymore' front?”

“Do we know you?” One of the men demanded.

“You may have heard of me,” he said. “Alistair Theirin? Ring a bell?”

The men looked amongst themselves, before they burst out laughing.

“Pull the other one!” One of them declared. “You're half knife-ear!”

Drawing a deep gulp from the man's mug, Wenceslaus grinned. “So I am.”

The laughter faltered and the men looked amongst themselves.

“The Grey Warden?”

“That's me.”

Everyone at the table stilled and eyed him warily.

“Now that is an amazing lie,” someone purred from the corner of the quiet tavern.

Wenceslaus watched as a pretty Tevinter magister stood up and approached them with an easy swagger. “I met Alistair, actually, in Crestwood. And you look nothing like him.”

“That sounds like a lie,” Wenceslaus insisted.

“And that sounds like someone who's an easy liar would say,” the magister went on smoothly, brushing his magnificent facial hair with an elegant finger.

Opening his mouth to protest, Wenceslaus shut it quickly and stood up. “You're right, buy me a drink?”

“I only buy drinks if I know the night's going to end well,” the magister shot back. “As it is, I see nothing in it for me.”

“Pretty cocksure for a 'vint far from home,” Wenceslaus said.

The man chuckled. “I am, aren't I?”

Narrowing his eyes slightly at the man, Wenceslaus was about to leave the tavern entirely, when the Tevinter said, “well, what could one drink harm?”

“As long as it's not attached to some blood ritual...” Wenceslaus replied, walking with the man towards the bar.

As the two bellied up, the 'vint cleared his throat regally and said, “nothing like a sip of ale from a dirty mug to make one question the life choices which lead them here to this moment.”

Clinking the mug against the magister's Wenceslaus agreed.

“Wenceslaus,” he introduced himself.

“Ah, introductions, good,” the magister said. “I'm Dorian.”

“And what brings you here to Thedas, Dorian?”

“Easy access to warm blood,” the 'vint teased with a small glimmer in his eye.

“That is a dark sense of humour, my friend.”

“Am I being funny? I certainly didn't mean to come off that way.”

Wenceslaus chuckled into his ale.

“And where is it that you're heading?”

“Skyhold.”

Dorian's eyes lit up. “Oh! As am I. And what does Skyhold have that you seek?”

“High walls. Yourself?”

“There's a chair in the library of Skyhold, think I'll tuck myself up there and read until I die,” Dorian replied.

“You're heading home?”

“Yes.”

Wenceslaus was quiet for a moment, before asking, “have you...ever met this Herald?”

Dorian sipped his ale with all the mien of a King, before saying, “yes.”

“What's he like?”

“He's just a Dalish Elf, like any other.”

Wenceslaus was quiet for a moment, before saying, “good.”

“Say, I'm heading there this morning with my traveling companions,” Dorian said. “How would you like to come with us? There's safety in numbers on these roads.”

#there you have it #enjoy? #I dunno i can't tell you what to do