#i feel so lucky to have been able to commission such a gorgeous piece of my silly little oc

[enterprise-me-capn]

I got this gorgeous, perfect commission from @juliannegriepp of T'Sol, my Star Trek OC. A peek into a more quiet, somber moment where they actually let themselves feel the weight of their past.

Please go commission Julianne, her comms are still open!

#star trek #star trek oc #star trek art #t'sol ph'rhevoss #commission #andorian #vulcan #borg #ferengi #scifi art #honestly i just need as many eyes on this as possible cus like julianne deserves it just look at this art #the textures are sublime. the composition? stunning. the values and colors are delicious #that pose?? the clothes??? can we also talk ahout that hand??? fuck y'all i mean goddamn #i feel so lucky to have been able to commission such a gorgeous piece of my silly little oc #julianne is awesome to work with btw #anyway i'll be over here sobbing on the ground don't mind me #xbs

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Delicate. — Part 2.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: Part 2, let’s gooo. as always, feedback is very much appreciated! Let me know what you think or what you would like to see next. thank you for reading!

catch up here!

"Stupid cheesecake recipe."

"Over baking wasn't exactly on the recipe, J." 

"Oh, shut up. Yours is dry as fuck."

Y/n opened her mouth, pretending to be offended. The pair was currently having a little baking competition that clearly went wrong since none of them can bake. Now, Y/n was pretty good at cooking in general, but for some reason baking just wasn't her thing. And obviously, it wasn't Jensen's thing either. 

"I hope you clean this mess after you're done." The truth was, Louise wasn't surprised by the mess her children had made and didn't mind it either. The age difference between both of them was big, so growing up there wasn't much they could do to bond. Right now, however, they were so much closer than they were before, and Jensen and Y/n had more things in common and more options of activities they could do together, like baking. 

Even if they were bad at it. 

"I invited Harry and Sarah tonight. They're having dinner with us." Louise spoke again, grabbing a rag and starting to wipe off the flour on the kitchen island. 

"Who's Sarah?" Y/n asked, cleaning the flour on her left cheek. She tried to ignore the growing butterflies in her stomach at the mention of Harry. She'd be lying if she said she hasn't thought about him since their last encounter, even went as far as trying to look for him on the internet but she got nothing. But the mention of another woman made her feel confused. Was he married or something? Don't blame her, the guy wears a lot of rings.  

"The owner of that cat café I took you to the other day. She's great, don't worry." 

Jensen nudged her playfully, and she rolled her eyes in return. "I'll take a shower." She announced before marching out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her old room. She wanted to clean herself up before Harry arrived, although she didn't know why. Looking through the clothes she kept at her mother's house, she settled in a plain, long blue dress with spaghetti straps and a pair of sandals. She didn't want to look overdressed but also didn't want to just wear a pair of sweatpants like she's been wearing all afternoon. 

"Do you remember when mom tried to set me up with that girl who worked at the restaurant on the other side of town?" Jensen entered the room without knocking, running his fingers through his hair. He was also fresh out of the shower. 

"Madison?" Jensen hummed in response. "She was nice. Why did you stop going out with her?"

"Because mom only did it because she thought I was lonely.?"

"What's your point?" She looked at him after grabbing a hairbrush from the vanity. 

"That she's doing the same now with Harry? Duh."

"Woah, I've met the man once. And I've tried going out with people she sets me up with, and we never click."

//

Y/n tried to play it cool when she heard the gates open, busying herself with whatever as the doorbell rang and Louise hurried towards the door. Harry and a gorgeous brunette stepped into the house, smiling widely at the middle-aged woman. 

"Come on in! I'm so glad you could make it."

"You have a lovely home, Louise." Harry's deep voice along with that accent of his sent shivers down Y/n's spine. She had a weak spot for British people and she didn't know why. 

"I'm sorry Mitch couldn't make it." The woman beside Harry said. 

"Oh, it's okay. There's always next time."

The three of them walked into the living room where everyone else was sitting. Jensen stood up and high-fived Harry before giving Sarah a side hug. A smirk appeared on Harry's face as Y/n came into his view. "Hello again, love."

"Hi, Harry." Y/n returned his little salute. "Azaleas are doing great, by the way." She jokingly said. 

"Knew you would keep them alive." He gave her a little wink before giving her a quick hug. 

Sarah introduced herself and Y/n did the same, accepting her hand to shake. Y/n had to admit, she was really pretty. Along with her brown hair, she had a pair of blue eyes and an inviting smile. If Harry was really dating Sarah, then he was a lucky man. 

Throughout the dinner, Y/n didn't say much. She'd occasionally steal little glazes at Harry and admired how gorgeous he looked tonight. It was funny, Y/n had this feeling in her tummy every time she's seen him, which by the way has only been twice, and she grew nervous out of nowhere. It was almost like she was too shy to speak to him, which was weird considering she was a pro at holding conversations as she's been trained to do so. Sometimes she'd stare for too long and Harry would notice and smile her way. Y/n felt like a teenager with a highschool crush. She tried to convince herself she didn't like him that way and she was just taken back at how pretty he was. 

Dinner was over and Harry insisted on helping with the dishes despite Louise's protests. So now it was just Y/n and Harry in the kitchen putting everything in the dishwasher while sipping on white wine. 

"How can you put ice on it?" Harry asked, nodding at her glass filled with wine and ice. "When the ice melts it just tastes like water."

"I like it really cold but I don't like keeping the bottles in the freezer." She explained, taking a sip from her glass. "So how do you know Sarah?" 

"She was the first friend I made when I came here. She's also British so we became fast friends. Plus, he's dating my best friend and co-worker."

"Oh." She said, processing the information. Perhaps that Mitch guy Sarah mentioned was her boyfriend and not Harry. Suddenly, she felt a wave of relief but then again, why?

"Can I say something without sounding creepy?"

"S-sure?" 

"My sister is a massive fan of yours. When we still lived with my mum, you were all she listened to."

"I'm sorry." She joked and he breathed a laugh. "Well, tell her I say hi, please."

"Will do."

"So..." She dragged the word. "You knew who I was?"

"Obviously I don't live under a rock." He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm just not invested in that whole world as other people, you know? I don't even own an Instagram account or anything." Harry shrugged.

So that's why she couldn't find him anywhere, she thought. A feeling of excitement ran through her veins. Harry knew who she was, but he didn't care. Being treated like a normal person was a luxury Y/n didn't have anymore, so it was safe to say she felt happy knowing he'd treat her like one. 

They finished the task in silence, but Y/n couldn't contain the little smile forming on her face and honestly, Harry couldn't either. 

She was curious about him. What was he doing in her hometown if he was from the other side of the world? What did he do in his free time? Where did he get so many cool rings? Did he always want to be a florist? Why was he a florist? She had a million questions she wanted to ask, feeling genuinely intrigued by him. Harry could easily come off as an intimidating man, but what she has noticed from him was completely different. 

Harry was shy, incredibly so. But he was also cheeky, and silly and had a boyish smile that he could change into an intense look in a matter of seconds if he wanted to. His green eyes were always shiny, like stars in a black sky. He also appeared to be always happy, although she couldn't be certain on that one. 

The things she was feeling right now were things she's never experienced before and that was both exciting and terrifying. 

//

"I never trust a narcissist." Y/n tasted the new lyrics she's been thinking about with a random melody on the piano. She sat in front of the instrument in her living room and this time she didn't have to squeeze her brain for one decent melody, because this time she was able to come up with one smoothly. 

Pandora was casually laying down on the floor close to Y/n while Lizzie was chilling around the house as she didn't like the sound of the piano that much. This was one of those nights when inspiration came to Y/n from nowhere, having to drag herself out of the comfiness of her bed before she forgot what her brain had come up with. She continued adding lyrics, making sure her phone was still recording everything she was doing. 

It had been a few days since she's seen her family or had any kind of human interaction and now that she was thinking about it, she kind of missed it. Now, she loved her family to pieces and would do absolutely anything for them but she missed her friends, her real friends who were thousands of miles away from her right now. She was craving that more than anything right now and that's probably why she found herself in front of The Blossom House the morning after, debating whether or not entering the shop. 

Deciding to suck it up, she opened the door of the building and stepped in, feeling the overwhelming smell of flowers hit her nostrils immediately. There were a few people in the shop, a young boy buying a bouquet of red roses and two middle-aged women that looked like they came together. Y/n tried to go unnoticed as she stepped deeper into the store. The truth was, she didn't know what she was doing there. She didn't need more flowers, that's for sure. 

She looked through her sunglasses a bouquet of daisies her mother would absolutely die for, so she decided to grab it for her. 

"Oop, sorry. That one's not done yet." Someone said from behind. She turned around and saw a man with long hair tied in a low bun and a mustache on his face. "It's a commission, actually. But I can make another one for you."

"Oh, it's fine. I'll just pick something else." She gave him a polite smile. The name on the tag read Mitch, so he must be Sarah's boyfriend. "Uh... weird question but, is Harry around?"

"Yeah, he's in the back. Want me to get him for you?" He offered but she declined. 

"It's okay. Thank you." Giving him one last smile she walked away to the other side of the room, this time looking at the roses. The white ones were her favorites and she loved looking at them. 

"Hey, stranger."  Taking advantage of the fact he couldn't see her, she smiled widely at the sound of his voice. "Fancy seeing you here." As soon as she turned around she saw the goofy dimpled smile on his face. 

"Likewise, do you work here by any means?" She smirked as he giggled, deciding to play along. 

"Darling, I own the place."

"An entrepreneur, oh my god." She pretended to fan herself with the palm of her hand and Harry let out a big laugh. 

"What brings you here? More flowers?" Something tells her he knew she wasn't here for the flowers, and it was true, as much as she wanted to tell herself she wanted a new bouquet for her mom. In reality, she wanted to see him. "Has something caught your eye so far?"

"There was this bouquet of daisies but a man told me it was for a commission?" Her words came off more like a question. 

"Oh, yes. Mitch's been working on that for a few hours now. I can tell him to make you one like that if you want. Could be done in a couple of hours."

"That would be great. I could swing by in a while to get it."

"Orrrrr, we could wait for it over a cup of coffee?"

She observed him for a while and how the dimples never disappeared from his face as he waited for her answer. He seemed confident and she really liked that. "Sounds fun." She shrugged before a smile appeared on her face, matching his. 

"Let me tell Mitch and we'll go." He said before rushing to the back of the store and returning shortly after without his apron. "Would you prefer to go to Sarah's? Because there's this one, half block away that serves good coffee."

"Let's try that one." Honestly, she'd walk whatever blocks if that meant they'd spend more time together. "As much as I loved going to Sarah's, seeing all those kittens at once makes me cry."

"I feel the same. I always take my mum there when she comes to visit, last time she came she adopted one." He mentioned. A car passed at low speed, making Y/n nervous. She tried to cover her face as much as she could with her hair and fixing her sunglasses. "Is everything okay?" Harry asked, noticing her change of behavior. 

"Uh? Oh, yes. I thought someone was watching from that car." She said in a low voice. What happened next, she would've never expected. Harry pushed her gently to the other side of the sidewalk, changing places with her so his much taller frame would cover hers.

She blushed, looking up at him but he acted like it wasn't a big deal, like it was a natural thing to do although they didn't even know each other that well. She thought he'd tell her she was being paranoid or something but instead, he chose to do something he thought would make her feel more at ease. And it worked. 

Harry held the door open for her when they arrived, guiding her to a table away from the windows and pulled out the chair for her to sit, being an absolute gentleman with her. And although Y/n insisted, Harry went for their coffees and paid for them as well, saying he was the one who invited her hence he'd be the one who pays. 

Once they were settled with their own cups of coffee, they started talking. Mostly about Harry, Y/n still didn't feel comfortable enough to talk about herself and he understood so he let her ask him anything she desired. 

"Do you go to England often?"

"Not as much as I'd like to. I try to go during summer and for the holidays, of course. Although for birthdays and such, I'm not always able to fly there." 

"You must miss your family a lot." From what she's gathered about him, he was a family guy, so being away from his must be tough. She knew it was for her. 

"I do. But I also love it here."

"Do you see yourself going back?"

"To London? Probably not. I have gotten used to being in the states so if I ever move back there full time I'd feel out of place."

She nodded along, listening to him carefully. Harry had a beautiful voice and he spoke slowly so it made it even more soothing than it already was. She swore this man could read her a bedtime story and she'd be out in the first minutes. 

They talked for some more and bought another cup of coffee for the walk back to the flower shop. They were having a great time, and although they wouldn't say it out loud, none of them wanted it to end. So it was safe to say they both felt a little sad once they arrived at The Blossom House. 

"Let me get the bouquet for you." Harry told her after they entered. He came back with a replica of the bouquet of daisies she saw earlier and she smiled. "It's on the house, tell Louise I say hi."

"You don't have to gift me flowers every time I come, you know that right?" She chuckled but grabbed the bouquet regardless. 

"I know I don't have to but who says I don't want to?" He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, grinning at her. 

"Thank you, Harry. For the coffee and the flowers."

"You're very welcome. I, uh, I had a great time today." He said, blushing a little.

"Me too."

"Do you think we could do it again some other time?" He asked hesitantly. 

"I'd love to, honestly." Y/n admitted, starting to blush as well. 

"So can I have your number or I'd have to wait until you come again?" He asked teasingly. "Swear I'll not sell it on e-bay."

"Can you even sell a telephone number on e-bay?" She asked, laughing as she took her phone out of her bag, handing it to him. "Feel free to text yourself so you could have mine too."

"I'll use it wisely, I promise."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps not only for coffee but for a nice dinner."

Yeah, she definitely hoped he'd do that.

//

Tag list: @reverse-hxlland​ @cronias13

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles series #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #florist!harry styles

[e-milieeee]

four ways to say i love you

Summary: It’s the little things—such as waking up at five in the morning to cook for him or lending her a coat when she’s cold—that mean the world. 

Because Marinette loves her partner very, very much, and she’s so lucky that he feels the same. 

Notes: I was initially going to do one side of the lovesquare, but all sides are equal and therefore have all four sides in this oneshot :) Post reveal, established relationship. A commissioned piece for @mlbforblm—there’s plenty of talented artists and writers who still have slots, so make sure to commission! 

Or read on AO3

Adrien is brushing his teeth when Ladybug comes crashing through his window.

He’s a little later than usual today, still decked in his Ladybug pajamas that he’s so unashamedly  proud of. He has tied his bangs back with an elastic band, and it sits like a little tree on top of his head, water still dripping from his face.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be ready to eat breakfast,” she tsks playfully.

He grins back. “Sorry, M’lady. Plagg turned my alarm off.”

His smile is, as usual, contagious and in a way that can’t help but to smile back. Ladybug returns to his room and takes out the box from her bag, where she’d painstakingly prepared breakfast for him at the expense of a shattered bowl and spilled jug of milk. It’s still warm to the touch, thankfully, and her slightly rough landing in his room hadn’t messed it up too much.

Adrien joins her a couple minutes later. He has taken the hair tie out, but his bangs fall softly over his eyes like it does when he’s Chat Noir, and Ladybug wants to run her hands over it so to feel just how soft it is. She refrains herself, though, as they both settle cross-legged on the ground where she has laid their breakfast out.

His mouth drops open. “Wow,” Adrien marvels. “When you said you were going to make a feast, I thought you’d fry an egg or two and slap it between some bread and that would’ve been it. This is… can you describe food as gorgeous? Because this is gorgeous.”

“Just because that’s the only thing you can cook doesn’t mean it’s all I’m capable of,” she sniffs, but underneath, Ladybug preens at the compliment.

It’d taken a lot of effort, and Ladybug had collected the ingredients the day before and planned every single detail before going to bed. Then, at five in the morning, she dragged herself out of bed looking and feeling like a zombie just to prepare it.

There are four egg rolls drizzled with homemade sauce, then sprinkled with dried seaweed and sesame. Next to that are neat cuts of green onion cake, made from absolute scratch (she burned herself in the process of deep-frying them). Inside the longest container are fried fish, the ones her mother had prepared the night before. Finally, the leftover mooncakes from the Lunar Festival are in the little box, tied with a red bow. Marinette had spent careful care on that one.

“Miso soup,” Ladybug tells him as she hands him the thermos. “Uh… I think I added too much paste and it’s too salty, so you might not want to drink that one. And…” She opens the last box, where a variety of fresh-cut fruit awaits. “For health reasons, there are fruits. Oh! Also a cheese platter for Plagg, but he’s still asleep, so he can have it later.”

Adrien is positively beaming when she unpacks everything. “You’re the absolute best,” he gushes.

“Couldn’t have you starving on your diet, right?” The nonchalant act can only go so far when she’s grinning so wide. “I’m just hoping it tastes as good as it looks.”

“It’ll taste good just because you made it.” He throws her an exaggerated wink, then immediately reaches for his chopsticks to dig in.

Ladybug watches him take a bite out of green onion cake. He chews, swallows, eyes lighting up. “This is amazing, and I promise I’m not just saying that because my diet’s forced me to eat boiled chicken breasts with no seasoning of the past week.”

She giggles. “Just let me know when you want me to bring you breakfast.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I can’t believe Ladybug’s my personal delivery girl. Do you offer lunch services as well?”

“Only for you, kitty.”

His grin is worth getting up for at 5am.

***

Marinette is freezing at lunch break, but they’ve agreed to eat outside, so she sucks it up. At least the lunch she’d packed for her and Adrien is warm.

It’s late autumn now, and the last couple of leaves cling to otherwise bare trees. She regrets the outfit she picked—cute, but not practical. Especially not in this weather. Looking at Alya bundled up in a hoodie and combat boots, Marinette really regrets the dress.

The noodles in the thermoses are slightly soggy, but the flavour is still there. They chat for a while—about upcoming tests, about projects and the end-of-the-year field trip that is still months away, and everything is lovely. Lovely, but cold.

Halfway through, her noodles emptied, Adrien notices her shivering. “Are you cold?” he asks, eyes growing wide in concern.

Alya halts her conversation with Nino as well. “Wait, Adrien’s right, you’re wearing a dress. I’m chilly and I have a sweater on.”

Marinette, who has refrained from speaking for the past couple of minutes in fear of her teeth chattering too loudly, manages to shake her head.

She gets a scrutinizing look-over by Adrien before he makes his verdict. “This isn’t going to do,” he declares firmly. Then, with one fluid movement, he shrugs his own sweater off and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh, he’s smooth,” Alya remarks with a wicked grin.

Smooth, indeed. The jacket is wonderfully warm, and, with a content sigh, Marinette slides her arms through the sleeves. There’s also the faint smell of his cologne and it’s so very him that she can’t help the smile that crosses her face.

He opens an arm in a beckoning gesture and Marinette happily settles into his embrace.

***

Because of his father’s strict rules, it’s much easier for Adrien to come by as Chat Noir after school, which he does almost everyday. Sometimes it’s between his schedules, sometimes it’s after, late into the night when both his father and Nathalie believe he’s asleep. Marinette always listens for the thump on the skylight, an indication that he’s there. The trap door is always left unlocked for him, so she only needs to wait as he climbs down the ladder.

It’s nearing nine when he comes this time. She sits at her desk finishing up the rest of the notes when the door creaks open and Chat Noir climbs down.

“Evening,” he greets. “What—ooh, you brought croissants for me.”

He zeroes in immediately on the food that Marinette had, admittedly, prepared for him. Between Adrien’s schedule and that godawful diet his father insisted putting him on and his time sprinting across rooftops and fighting akumas, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t fainted from lack of nutrition. Marinette has made it her personal goal to make sure he’s properly fed, and she ensures there’s a snack waiting for him every time he drops by.

Half a minute later, he’s munching enthusiastically on the food and Marinette can no longer focus on the rest of her notes. She sorts them out—there’s at least four pages that she’d copied in her neatest handwriting—and then hands them to Chat.

“Here,” she tells him. “You missed both physics and mathematics today because of the photoshoot, so I copied the notes from class and re-organized them. I also added a review section from last class so it’s easier to figure out just where we are since the two lessons are connected. And…” She shuffles through her desk once more, producing the textbook. “It’s on page one hundred and twenty seven to one hundred and twenty nine, if my notes don’t make sense. You can study here, if you’d like. My parents won’t be coming back up anyway, so we should be left alone for now.”

The last time her mother had walked in on her and Chat doing homework together, she’d been understanding. Understanding, but skeptical. It had been awfully hard to explain why Paris’ superhero was lounging in her room like he lived there—and much harder more awkward to explain that Adrien was one hundred supportive of her friendship with Chat after her father had become defensive that he had ulterior motives.

Chat takes the papers from her. “You’re absolutely unbelievable,” he tells her, eyes shining in a way only his can. “Seriously, Marinette, have I ever told you?”

She pretends to count on her fingers. “Let’s see… only about six times today. Why? He shakes his head, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. In one fluid movement, he leans down to pluck the textbook from her hands and plants a quick kiss against her cheek in the process. “What would I do without you?”

“Go hungry, probably? Start lagging behind in all of your classes?” Marinette tsks at him. “God, you’re right. What would you do without me?”

Chat’s laugh is wonderful and full and happy. “Then aren’t I lucky to have you.”

***

The akuma strikes at midnight.

Marinette, about to change into her pajamas after just sending off Chat Noir, curses to herself. She’s tired and not in the mood to transform, but when Chat comes crashing back down from the skylight urgently, she knows she has no choice.

“Akuma!” he informs her, as if the tremors outside could be caused by anything else. “It’s close to here. We should be able to take this one quickly.”

“Why is Hawkmoth even awake?” Marinette grumbles, but transforms nonetheless. Chat waits patiently on the side, though he’s drawn taut, prepared to scramble into action the moment she’s ready. Then they’re climbing out of the skylight, into the light, where the akuma has begun its rampage. The once-quiet night is ripped apart with panic and terror.

The akuma is relatively easy to deal with: a little girl, apparently inspired by Frozen, is decked in full Elsa, wielding similar powers. She covers the streets in ice, a snowstorm whirling around her, as spirals of icy sculptures rise and fall.

Both she and Chat have icicles hanging off them by the time Ladybug purifies the akuma. Even after she releases the Miraculous Ladybug, the cold from the girl’s powers haven’t seeped out of her bones. Judging from Chat’s chattering teeth, he feels the same.

Despite her watch reading 12:32 and the next day hailing as a school day , they stop by at a 24-hour-cafe for hot chocolate. A couple minutes later, seated on the rooftops warming their chilled hands, they’re huddled against each other and staring out at the gleaming cityscape.

“Another successful take-down, m’lady?”

Ladybug laughs as he raises his cup for a toast, and she obliges and bumps her own against him. Hot chocolate sloshes over the lid, splashing onto her suit. She flicks it off. “What a team we make, huh? Now, if only Hawkmoth would get the memo and stop creating his akumas so late. Why is he even up now? Say, do you think he has a life outside of being Hawkmoth?”

“He probably wants to catch us off guard in the middle of the night. Remember that one time we got woken up at three because there was an akuma attack? Plagg wanted to tape my mouth shut so I couldn’t transform.”  

Ladybug groans. “I did really bad on a test the next day because I got three and a half hours of sleep—I fell asleep halfway through the test! It’s— ugh. He’s so annoying.”

“There’s one good thing about midnight akumas, though,” Chat points out.

She takes a sip from the hot chocolate, which, during their conversation, has cooled down to just below scalding. “A good thing?” Ladybug echoes. “Name one good thing, chaton.”  

He nudges her shoulder. “You, m’lady. It’s nice just being alone like this without anyone else, right?”

Then, like he’s said nothing out of the ordinary, Chat goes back to drinking his hot chocolate with infuriating nonchalance.

Ladybug finds herself smiling. “You know,” she tells Chat Noir. “You’re ridiculously good at this. Where do you even get the inspiration to say these things?”

“You.”

“You are completely overdoing it.”

“You love me, admit that.”

“No.”

“So you would get up at five in the morning to make breakfast for just anyone, Bugaboo?”

Ladybug relents. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Chat Noir’s laugh rings crystal clear throughout the night, loud against the crisp air. Ladybug wants to trap that laugh and hold it close to herself. She can’t help but treasure it, after all: it’s a sound that chases away worries, soothes fears, and she thinks she's so, so lucky to hear it everyday.  

“I love you,” he tells her when his laughter dies down. “Don’t forget that, m’lady.”

Ladybug leans her head on her shoulder. “I love you too,” she replies quietly. “You better not forget it, either.”

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist! 

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #adrinette #fluff #post reveal #established relationship #mlbforblm #my writing #mlb fic

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Cross the Line Part 2

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 3, that would be the final part

Word Count 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of abortion

You struggled to breathe, you felt your heartbreak into a million pieces. You did this to yourself. You didn’t go back to his apartment. You just packed your clothes from your apartment and ran. You didn’t care where you ended up, or if you died. The look on Bakugo’s face was enough. The venom in his voice was enough to make you vomit right then and there. You knew you couldn’t go back to the League. You debated whether or not to go to the commission for protection. Deciding against that since they’d probably just kill you on sight for just endangering their mission.

You wandered on the streets for a while. You thought about the last few months, and how blissful they truly were. You sat in a dark alley on top of your suitcase and cried. You let it all out, every emotion poured out of you. No one else seemed to have cared at all. The scream that erupted from your throat was full of pain. You didn’t notice when someone approached you.

“Y/N?” A concerned voice pulled you back to reality. Deku looked at you. You had met him a few times, and knew that he grew up with Bakugo.

“Are you okay?” He asked you. You nodded, why should he be brought into your drama. Into the world you created yourself.

“Is it Kaa-Chan?” He questioned you. “I know he can be so quick to anger. Give him sometime, he’ll cool down. You two will be okay. He loves you.” He tried reassuring you. You just broke down again, crying harder.

“No. It can’t be okay. It won’t be okay. I fucked up. Really really bad.” You stuttered out between sobs.

“How about you stay with me for a bit?” He offered you. You didn’t object, you really just wanted to lay your head down for a bit in a place where you’d be safe for a moment. When you arrived at Midoriya’s apartment, he showed you to the guest room. You closed the door behind you, laid on the bed, The last thought on your mind was about keeping the baby. You fell asleep after a few slow, long blinks. You awoke a few hours later yelling.

“DUMBASS, I told you. She’s the enemy. She’s a villian.” You heard Bakugo yelling.

“Kaa-Chan, I don’t think she is. Everyone is capable of change.” Midoriya defended you.

“You really don’t know her. How could she lie to me so easily? I loved her. You don’t fucking get it.” Bakugo pounded his fist against the table.

“Then make me understand, if you don’t think I know. I know you love her, I know she loves you. So she didn’t kill you all those times she could have. She didn’t  sit there and give the League any information. She would have fucked us over so many times. She could’ve, but she didn’t.” Midoriya spoke to Bakugo.

You didn’t need to hear anything more. You grabbed your suitcase and slipped through the window. You decided that you’d come clean to the Commission. You walked there as quickly as possible, you fought your nerves, and emotions the whole way.

When you arrived, you weren’t sure what to expect. You were rushed into the Chairman’s office. For the next few hours, you explained what you found out while working with the villains, what the villains’ plans were, and what their ultimate goal was. Every detail of your interactions were scrutinized. When you finished with your meeting the only thing that was left was to tell the truth about you and Bakugo.

“Thank you for your help with this mission. I know it was difficult to cross that line, and sometimes multiple times. It wears on one’s mind after some time. Your services are no longer needed.” The Chairman told you with a satisfied smile on his face.

“There is something else I need to disclose, Sir.” You began to say.

“If this is about you and Lord Murder Explosion being a couple, my advice is to continue, his ratings are going up since announcing your relationship. The public feels safer and also think he’s more approachable.” He continued.

“I am afraid to say this, but he and I are no longer together. After finding out I was working the League, he didn’t want anything to do with me.” You told him with a little more firmness that you meant to. “Also, I will not be able to return to hero work right away. I am currently pregnant.” You kept the Chairman’s eye.

“I see. Tomorrow morning go see the doctor. We will figure out other work for you in the meantime. Meanwhile, please rest for the next two weeks. We will take care of the other apartment.” He dismissed you, you felt some sort of weight lift off your shoulders, but your mind was filled with worry.

The next two weeks came and went in a blur, you’d gotten a due date for your baby, but were unsure if you even wanted to keep it. You slept unrestfully for those two weeks. Every day you woke up thinking about Bakugo. Wondering if the Chairman would be good on his word. You really didnt have much faith in him when it came to promises. Midoriya had texted you every so often just to check up. He was very sweet, and Ochacko was very lucky to have ended up with him. The Commission hadn’t contacted you about starting other work at the end of the two weeks, so your vacation ended up being extended another two weeks.

After a month of no contact from Bakugo, you decided that it was time to make up your mind about the baby. You were getting ready for your day when you were called into action to fight against the League. You were in a one on one fight with Toga. Everything inside you screamed that you’d rather die than let this little teenaged psycho touch a civilian.

“Oh, look who’s here to save the day! The traitor” Toga cackled at you, her maniacal laugh echoing off the surrounding buildings.

“I will take you down if it’s the last thing I do you fucking psycho.” You retorted as you lunged at her. The pace of her swings were too much for you. You were winded and breathless after a few minutes. There was nothing special about her movements, yours were sluggish from the human inside. She had pinned you against the wall with her hands around your throat. You were dangerously close to blacking out. Suddenly, your body slouched against the wall, as you felt yourself gasping for air right before nothingness enveloped you.

You awoke with the yellowish glare of fluorescent lights, and gasping for air. Your hands were grasping for anything you could hold on to. Your hand grabbed hold of a bicep. When your (eye color) met his red ones, time stood still for a moment. Everything you were fighting for in that moment seemed to have faded away.

He took his hand and placed it on top of your head. You couldn’t read the look on his face. He didn’t seem mad, or angry. He stood a placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You scared me.” He whispered into your hair as he brushed it back. The tears flowed freely from his eyes. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.” The tender moment broken by the doctor.

“Oh, good, Y/N, you’re awake. We need to discuss a few things. First, I need your consent that it is okay to speak about important health information in front of-” The doctor looked at Bakugo.

“Katsuki, Yes. I consent.” You said allowed.

“Alright. First, there were no serious injuries sustained with your fight. Your throat may be sore for a few days, and you may have a headache. There was no brain damage.” He told the both of you. Bakugo took your hand in his squeezing it gently.

“Secondly, about the pregnancy.” He started, Bakugo tightened his grip on your hand. A very worried look crossed his face “They’re safe, and doing well.”

“They?” You said with shock. The doctor nodded.

“Yes, They. That was the other part, I know you Ms. L/N, were told it was one. While doing tests, we did indeed find two. The last thing is that we’d like to keep you here for a few hours just for observation.” He finished.

“Yes, okay. No problem.” You agreed with the doctor.

“Okay, great. I will give you some time. The nurse will be in here in a while to check your vitals and check on you.” The doctor said and left, closing the door behind him.

Bakugo had been awfully quiet while the doctor had spoken. You were unsure of what he was thinking. Bakugo stood up and placed his hands in his pockets.

“Katsuki…” He kissed you chastely at first, then deepened the kiss. All of the emotions he’d been keeping in over the last month tumbled out. Bakugo decided against having his way with you in the hospital bed, and broke the kiss.

“Y/N…” He pulled a black box from his pocket and opened it, up a light pink dusted his cheeks. Inside was a gorgeous round cut diamond solitaire ring set in white gold. You gave him a quizzical look, not understanding.

“Are you going to answer me? Or am I just going to stand here like a dumbass?” He asked you. It took a second, but it clicked in your brain. He was asking you to marry him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close breathing in his scent. Tears were streaming down your face, as you nodded your answer to him.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I thought you were the villain. I thought you were the bad guy here. When the Chairman explained everything to me. I thought it couldn’t be possible that you’d actually like me. It was that nerd, Deku, who told me that you two had been texting. He kept me up to date, he told me what you had said. When I had found you passed out because that damn extra...I was really scared. I was terrified that you were going to die. I knew I was going to ask you to marry me, the next time I saw you. I am sorry it’s in the hospital. I’ll ask you properly, soon.”

He looked as if  he’d break in your hands, and you knew to an extent that it was true. He sat there holding you close afraid that if he did let you go, you’d disappear.

“Please come back, live with me. Let me take care of you and our children. I promise I will spend every day making it up to you, in every way possible. However, you’d like, for as long as it takes. The happiest I’ve ever been is when I spent time with you.” He said with a softness in his voice that you knew he meant what he was saying.

“I am sorry, Katsuki. I cannot do that.” You told him teasingly. His face dropped, “Not unless you say it.” He groaned at you.

“I love you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” Bakugo asked you followed by another passionate kiss. This moment couldn’t have been more perfect.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki

[freedom-shamrock]

Speaking on My Behalf

Also over on AO3

@saijspellhart allowed me to take this delightful idea and run with it, so here we are.  Go team!

Chapter One

"All right," Marinette said, handing Adrien the steaming mug. "One Cheng family, top secret laryngitis treatment. Careful, it's hot." She could smell the fresh lemon juice as it wafted in her face.

Adrien snorted ruefully, grasping the mug carefully before slumping back into the couch.

"He says, thank you," Plagg offered helpfully from his place sprawled in his holder's ultra messy bed head.

Adrien smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just sorry I can't do more to help you," Marinette said, feeling bad. This was his first real illness since they'd decided it made more sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to share an apartment. It would limit the risk of anyone else figuring out their identities the way they had.  The miraculous were excellent for preventing colds and illness, but apparently they didn't really impact allergies. The warm spring had been brutal on her partner and close friend. Tikki would point out that he was also Marinette's first and only love (or strongly imply it in her look and point it out once they were alone together), but she was asleep in her nest in Marinette's room.

Adrien shook his head and waved one hand as if to push her worry away.

"There's only so much even you can do, Buggy," Plagg offered. "He gets that."

Adrien vigorously nodded his agreement with his kwami.

"And to be fully honest," the black cat of destruction continued, "he wouldn't have gotten half this kind of treatment back at the mansion." His face squished up in a way that Marinette had come to learn was disgust. "His schedule would've been cleared, partly anyway, and he'd be abandoned in that compensation-chamber-of-shitty-parenting that his father called a bedroom."

Adrien frowned, looking petulant while he made indignant shushing noises at his kwami.

Marinette moved closer, scooping up the book and laptop from the ottoman near the couch, so she could take a seat there. She'd always felt Gabriel's cold nature ran into neglectful, if not full-on abusive, territory, but Adrien was quick to change the subject when things got too close to discussing his family life. "Nathalie doesn't have much of a bedside manner, huh?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. It was amazing just what he could express without his voice, and it was no wonder he was loving the acting classes he'd snuck into his schedule.

"Well you don't live there anymore, and we Dupain-Cheng folk do not believe in allowing those who are ill or uncomfortable suffer alone." She reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek, pleased when he closed his eyes and hummed happily. "I'll be checking on you regularly, and I won't be any farther away than the other room, so just send Plagg if you need anything, okay?"

His gorgeous green eyes fluttered open and he gazed softly at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg agreed, his voice a jarring break in the gentle moment. "I'll come get you if he needs anything."

She'd brought work home from the La Fleur Fashions, the design house she'd joined before she even finished school. It was a small and highly exclusive house focused on women's evening wear, and while that was a bit limiting for her tastes, it paid well, and she enjoyed what she was doing. She'd made sure her contract allowed her to create her own  designs so long as they weren't competing for the same market, for her online boutique. Lucky Bug provided mostly one-of-a kind or commission pieces, including daywear and menswear. "Are you sure you don't want me to bring my work in here?" she asked for what had to be the fifth time.

Adrien's forehead scrunched up as he let out a huff.

"He would like to remind you that he's spent most of his twenty-three years coping on his own when he's ill," Plagg offered.

Adrien's eyes shot up as if he could see his kwami through his skull.

"He'll just feel guilty if you come out here," Plagg added. "No one has the whole guilt thing down like my kitten."

"Don't I know it," Marinette muttered, letting out a sigh and ignoring Adrien's indignant expression. "I promise, I'm happy to be here if it gives you any comfort, but I'm also not going to push. I definitely don't want you to feel more guilty about things that are basic human needs." That had been the first thing they'd had a serious talk about after moving in together.  He was constantly apologizing and trying to avoid being a nuisance.  "You are my best friend in the whole world," she insisted, brushing her thumb down his cheek.

"Ooooh," Plagg purred. "Better than Alya?"

"No contest," she replied, delighted by his response.

He closed his eyes and melted against her hand.

"I am always here for you," she promised. More than anything else in the world, he needed people who cared for him unconditionally, people who wouldn't turn their backs on him and leave him to languish in loneliness.

⁂

Adrien snapped his laptop closed. He was bored out of his mind and while he should have been happy to binge on Netflix, he was stupidly restless. The bright spots in his day had all involved Marinette, dear sweet Marinette, doting on him. He'd woken with a terrible sore throat from his allergies. He'd been able to easily identify it by the distinct characteristic that it felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus (which he'd actually done once as Chat Noir, and would not recommend). His room mate, super partner, and all around best friend had been more kind to him in the first ten minutes than his father and Nathalie had been, combined, for all his sick days ever. His throat already felt better, but his voice would be gone for at least the rest of the day, but probably longer.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and gently poked at Plagg, hoping to go for a run.

"No," Plagg grumbled. "We are not going out as Chat Noir today unless there's an akuma." His words were accompanied by tiny feet stomping on Adrien's head. "The Guardian wants you to rest."

Adrien's groan came out as more of a whine thanks to his irritated vocal cords.

"I get that you're fidgety, Kid," Plagg sounded a touch more compassionate. "But she's the boss, and she's right."

Adrien pouted. It was incredibly unfair that his kwami was so affectionate toward Marinette, yielding to her requests with no need of bribery. His frustration was disrupted by a delighted squeal from Marinette's room.

"Woo hoo!" She sounded giddy, and like she was trying to keep her enthusiasm toned down.

Adrien grinned. She was probably doing that full body wiggle that she did when she was super happy and excited. He opened his mouth to call to her, then remembered he couldn't.

"What are you celebrating in there, Pigtails?" Plagg called. He had almost as many nicknames for Marinette as Adrien did.

"This new dress is so awesome," Marinette replied. "I love it when I nail it on one of these. Monique is gonna love this one."

Adrien snorted. Monique loved pretty much all of Marinette's designs. It hadn't escaped his notice that the head designer and founder of La Fleur was asking more and more of her junior employee. She was clearly coming to Marinette when the stakes were highest, though being the humble person she was, Marinette hadn't noticed this herself.

Adrien waved his hand above his head, frantically trying to get Plagg's attention. He wanted to see that dress. He loved it when Marinette gave him his own private fashion shows. They were his own guilty pleasure, and admittedly featured strongly in his daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg muttered. "Hold your horses, Kid." He raised his voice to reach Marinette. "We get to see it, right?"

Marinette's head popped out from the tiny hall toward her bedroom. "You really want to see it?"

She looked so happy, and Adrien felt blessed having her bright eyes so intensely focused on him. He vigorously nodded, cupping his hands together in silent plea.

"It would be rude to leave us hanging," Plagg added.

She disappeared with a giggle. "Okay.  Just a minute."

Adrien settled back into the couch, grinning like an idiot and vigorously rubbing his forearms to shed some of his excess energy. A new evening dress. He wondered if it would be cute or elegant, or something else entirely. Since they'd been living together he'd seen her create the gamut of evening dresses, from sweet things for teen starlets, to flirty numbers, to luxurious and sophisticated pieces sought by A-listers. And what color might it be? She'd done everything, though she preferred not to go with black unless it had accents because she felt there tended to be too much weight on basic black. The people wearing her works of art were guaranteed to stand out.

He tried not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers and the swishing of fabric. He was a model for goodness' sake. He could handle having a gorgeous woman change nearby without blowing a gasket.

"These shoes aren't quite right," Marinette cautioned, breaking him out of his little spiral.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg replied. "It's all about the dress. We got it, Princess."

Adrien couldn't hold back the hiss when his kwami dared use his personal nickname for her.

Plagg merely snickered as he floated off Adrien's hair to land on the back of the couch.

Adrien scowled and batted Plagg off his perch. His death glare seemed to have no effect on the cackling little beast. He felt himself gathering for a pounce when the sound of heels on the wood floor announced Marinette's impending arrival. Freezing, he curled his lip one last time in warning before slowly and intentionally easing himself back into his reclined position.

Marinette sauntered into the room, treating it as her own personal runway. Sashay, sashay. Pause and pose. Quarter turn, pose. He could practically hear the drill he'd walked her through when he'd taught her runway basics. She may not have had real training, because his tutoring had hardly been anything, but she totally killed it, and Adrien was pretty sure his soul left his body the moment he got a good look at her.

The dress was a stunning sleeveless number in a magenta to midnight blue ombre with an overlay of tulle to give the fabric depth and movement without too much weight. The neckline dropped into a gorgeous V ending at her sternum. The skirting had a slit at the front that crept high enough to flash pretty much all over her amazingly toned leg.

She moved to her final pose, directly in front of him, a sultry little smirk on her lips. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, because the wink she threw him would have definitely killed him. She was so amazingly beautiful and talented. Even if his voice had been working, he would have had no words for her now.

After a moment, she relaxed her pose, giggling as she looked down at the dress. "I have to say, this is one of my best."

Adrien nodded vigorously in agreement..

She let out a happy sigh. "What do you think?"

Adrien opened his mouth for a moment, but found himself shutting it again with a little head shake. He still didn't have words, even ones he could silently mouth to her.

"NettieBug," Plagg said smoothly, darting up to float in front of her. "I can answer honestly for the Kid here when I tell you that you're hot as fuck."

⁂

I suspect this will need one more chapter to be truly satisfying.

Apologies for being so absent. I'm still herding kids and managing the household while we are all safe at home for a few more weeks (I can not wait for school to end!). I'm trying to fit in writing where I can, but often don't have the energy.

⁂

Check out Chapter Two >>>

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfiction #my writing #saijspellhart #fluff #post-reveal pre-relationship #mutual pining #they were roommates #Marinette #adrien #ml plagg #Speaking on my behalf

[thequietsoliloquy]

One year ago today, I met my future wife. 

(This is me gushing about the love of my life for the next couple hundred words. And also, a pair of chickens.)

I met her on a fandom Discord server. The first thing I told her was: “Oh shit! Another 29 years old! Did not expect that XD.” She replied: “Oldies!!”

And then, we fell in love.

Okay, it did not happen that fast.

We didn’t speak to each other again until February 14th, when I sent Valentines in the DMs of everyone in the server I interacted with regularly, because my heart is too full of love and that love still needs to be given. So I sent her: “Hi! I hope you're doing well! I just wanted to let you know I love you and how happy I am to have met you! You're amazing! Happy Valentine's Day!”

It was the first time I told her “I love you.” And how happy I am to have met her. And that she is amazing. Very important elements of my (at least) bi-weekly gushing towards her. Daily, in the case of telling her I love her. 

And then, we fell in love.

... Not yet. 

On February 26, she shared her artwork on the server, an Art Nouveau inspired piece. I’m a slut for anything Art Nouveau. Well, metaphorically. So, here I was again, sliding into her DM’s, this time wondering if she would be willing to draw my favourite character in that style. I offered to send her money for it. She agreed to do it for free. I still sent her money for her work. A month ago, because Paypal wasn’t being kind to me before that -_-. 

(always pay your artists. even when they tell you you don’t have to. especially when they tell you you don’t have to. show them how valuable you think their work and time is.)

The piece was done within just a few days. I was in love with it. Still am. It’s the first thing I see whenever I turn my computer on. 

Gorgeous! Absolutely amazing!

And then, we fell in love.

... Not yet. But I was falling. I fell in love with her art. And I fell in love with how creative she is.

After that commission, we started talking more regularly. At first, it was a few times a week. Then, it became every day. It’s been every day ever since.

Everyday means everyday. 

(that is a reference to the fandom. it’s Mo Dao Zu Shi. or The Untamed. although that particular line is from the novel, not the live action. except in one marketing tweet. anyway.)

(also, two women falling in love because of the story of two gay men? the poetry! the romanticism! just thinking about it, it’s giving me chills. never knew I could have not only an absolutely romantic love story with the love of my life, but for it to exist because of another queer love story?! peak romanticism!)

So. Everyday. 

I was gushing about her art. She was gushing about my writing. Then I gushed about her writing when she began to write her own stuff. Her ideas, her skills, her talent, her creativity! I was bewitched.

On May 16, in my journal, I wrote: 

“I’ve never had an artistic friend as positive as she is. (...) I love her quiet confidence about her art and how she pursues her interests without needing any monetary gains or anything. Just for fun. (...) I’d like to meet with her in person. Maybe next year? I’ll ask her. She’s so amazing. So down to earth and kind and goddamn her artistic mind impresses me so much! (...) I love her already.”

Because I am an idiot when it comes to romantic feelings, at that point, despite writing it in my diary, I wasn’t even aware they were running that deep. People love their friends, right? Doesn’t mean it’s romantic! It can be platonic! Right?!

But then. I was flirting. And she was flirting back! I don’t know how to flirt and I never know when people flirt with me but I knew she was flirting back! I understood her flirting! But! Because I am a coward and I would rather keep a perfectly good friendship intact than screw it up with f e e l i n g s, I decided to not say a thing about this. Because what if this was all perfectly platonic and I was just imagining things and the flirting was just platonic too? Friends flirt too, right? Right?!?! 

And then, on June 6, she sent me a pair of chicken emojis and asked “are they fat?”

(yes, that is another reference to our fandom. i have never felt my heart soar like that for a pair of chickens.)

I wanted it to be a confession. But that could have just been a little something that had no consequences whatsoever. So I just kept my feelings boxed inside and went to sleep happy with the thought of those two chickens.

Then, on June 7, she confessed. 

I confessed too.

(insert fireworks.)

On June 8, we discussed in detail what we were expecting from our relationship from now on. We agreed on everything. I have yet to see something we disagree on in the realm of our relationship. 

It took only a few months. Neither of us do casual. We went into this relationship with our hearts fully open, both ready to give and receive all the love we have. Finding more things to love about each other just makes the love grow bigger. 

I fall in love with her a little more every single day.  

We have our date night every Friday (sometimes we make it a full Saturday instead, like we did recently, and others, we add a Tuesday or a Wednesday just because we want to hear each other’s voice).

Her voice! Her voice!!!!!!!!! I could listen to her talk all day long!!!!! Her voice is smooth like velvet and deep and sometimes reaches higher when she laughs and I never understood how someone could describe a laugh that rings like a bell until I heard hers.

She dresses so stylishly, and even when she’s just in pajamas, I could still stare at her as if she’s the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever seen. 

Her eyes shine green and grey and brown and gold and I get lost in them every morning when I wake up because her picture is my phone’s lock screen and it’s always the first and last thing I see. Another picture of hers is also my phone’s home screen, and she’s smiling and seeing her smile makes me smile and the day is already so much better.

We send each other pictures of ourselves at least once a week regardless. My phone has never been so full of selfies that are only meant for her eyes. 

Until the day we share the same bed, each of us have a chicken to hold while we sleep. 

I never thought I would find a love that feels so bright and joyful at the age of 30! These feelings, I thought I left them behind when I got out of puberty! But love... love doesn’t work like that. Sometimes, love dims because the heart has been hurt too many times. It looses its luster of excitement. But with her, it’s as if someone turned all the lights back on and I feel safe, secure, loved back with as much care and tenderness as I am able to give. 

I am lucky. So lucky! She is always supportive of everything I do. Encouraging me to go further, even if it’s just another line of my current work in progress. Studying while talking with her every day has been a charm. On weeks where I had assignments to hand in, she was my reward. My percentage of last-minute assignments has gone down at least 50% thanks to her! I wrote SO MUCH MORE thanks to her, because she is always so positive and excited about the things I create. She’s making me feel excited about my own work too. 

She tells me I do the same for her too. I believe her. I want her to feel that supported, and encouraged, and loved, and adored, and cherished and treasured for the rest of our lives. Into our next lives too. 

I love her. I like her. I trust her with everything that I am. I trust her with my life. 

We’re lucky to be living in our era too. It’s a long distance relationship, but it doesn’t feel that far away. When we go on walks, we take many pictures, and it feels as if we are together. Netflix Party and Youtube Party made it easier to watch things together. I can fall asleep listening to her voice in my ear. 

Talking with her is so easy. She listens without judgement, and she is not afraid of sharing back, no matter what is going on in our heads. I’m not afraid of the future with her by my side, no matter what happens. Doesn’t matter where we live, where we work, what we do. With her in my life, I’m bathing in sunshine for the rest of my days. And the clouds are only around to water our crops.

I say often that I want to tell how much I love you to the entire world. This is as close as I can get to that. Loving you just feels... so pure. So perfect. So magical. It's like a miracle. You are my miracle. And everyone should witness miracles at least once in their lives. 

Happy one year of knowing each other, my love! Here’s to another year of amazement and luck and creativity, another year of love and laugher and genuine care. I’m looking forward to seeing you in 2021, if our borders allows. 

Merry Christmas!

#mo dao zu shi #wlw #meeting love within fandoms #gushing about my future wife #disaster lesbian meets biromantic ace #with a good ending! #she's so amazing and I love her so much! #best of 2020 #lesbian in love #happy story #christmas gift for my love #things I write

[thepearlyone]

Artific-ial Desires

Pearly’s Notes: this one feels like one of my best ones yet! Not that this didn’t take a while, but it feels like I went through like nine or ten good, working drafts on this. Though it didn’t end up how I initially envisioned, the beast it has become is still so beautiful.

~for kiera~

(or, read it on google docs here! )

~~~~

The triangle-shaped corner store had recently sold- which wouldn’t have been notable in the slightest, except for the buyer. In just the past few days, grime was stripped away, windows were sparkled, new furniture rushed in, all at a breakneck pace- which was typical only for the most elite. And what’s more, the construction company was not the ‘ol reliable mom and pop’ kind, but a very specific one most people in the area didn’t even know. Therefore, someone had to be asking the gossip to spread like wildfire- and all signs pointed to the Lady Von-Quirandra.

The throng filled the entranceway to the newly refurbished boutique, packing themselves all into a doorway and front hallway meant for at least twenty people fewer. There was something about this kind of crowd that meant a spectacle- and Cassandra wasn’t about to miss out on one. It looked like she’d missed out on whatever the first showcase was, as the artificer had their back turned and was clearly answering a question while herding the crowd to another.

“Oh, they’re my own creation- you wouldn’t be able to even find anything remotely similar anywhere else, much less a shop that can match the level of intricate craftsmanship.” She muttered under her breath something about arrogance leading before a great fall, but the speaker’s bold claim definitely seemed apt.

Everything in the shop was dripping with quality, sometimes literally. The fine swirls of one of the displayed rings caught everyone’s eyes initially- the crowd even rushed forward in an attempt to prevent it from melting. Each ring in that display was set up and carefully lit (inside each box, of course) to appear as though it was melting, but each one was so solidly constructed that no one could say anything unpleasant about the effect.

“Now, onto another small invention of mine, I’m proud to finally unveil these-“ It was just a simple pair of diamond-shaped earrings. They looked impressive, but there really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. At least, if there was, it wasn’t visible at the first blush, and the crowd was hurried over to the next booth quickly enough. However, Cassandra definitely wanted to ask about them, as if a one-on-one were even possible with such a famous artificer. She noticed the crowd thinning, as some of the younger members quickly fanned out to run home- after all, entering artificers’ shops were the kind of thing that mothers gave strict punishments for- and she could tell that a couple more of those leaving couldn’t have afforded the ‘intricate craftsmanship’ but wanted to have hope talked into them.

She tarried for as long as she could to look at the diamond-shaped earrings. The gems seemed to be simple studs, although she knew that a lot of concentration had been poured into the project. It was simple- but that made it all the more dangerous, as it could lure people into a false sense of security. The posts seemed to be a material similar to silver, but in the right lighting, Cassandra swore she saw it shimmer.

Ushered kindly to the next booth by everyone’s absence, she admired the plentiful array- sets, fully decked out in black velvet backing, laid out for the finest of society. These had to be personal commissions, things made for specific people in mind- either the artificer knew some slaves or nobles in need of their services, or perhaps they contacted THEM-

She chided herself on even considering that possibility- what the hell was she thinking? No noble-born family, especially not anyone the D’Antonias knew, would ever consider reaching out-artificing was dangerous business. No one ever cared how it happened, either, because if you stuck your neck too close to find out- it could end up adorned in the next showcase.

“Now, we’ve not yet gotten a private room, but those of you interested in our… New Acquisitions, please step this way. I’d be delighted to… guide each of you to them.” Even more fanned out, leaving a still rather sizeable crowd, with only a handful of them taking the opportunity to privately take an appointment.

New Acquisitions- the not-so-secret code word for slaves, either legal or illegal. Slaves had been quite controversial when first introduced a few decades ago, but now every family worth their weight in gold had them, and it was almost just another job. Slave applications were valuable and showed that you were selflessly serving another family- but there were still criminals. Unscrupulous individuals, people who might seek out an artificer to do the dirty work rather than submit their findings to the Justice Computer… Unhappy spouses, unruly coworkers, anyone who might be able to scrape up enough cash.

Then again, they could end up in the same position they wished for someone else- when trying to trick an artificer… It was always hard to tell with them. Everything was.

The lucky moment meant that she could go back to examining what she pleased- the simple earrings. Cassandra was very careful not to touch anything, but she drew quite close to them. The plain diamond-shaped crystals didn’t seem to hold any secrets, and as she carefully maneuvered the box into the light, it merely added to her curiosity. The earrings’ posts still sparkled slightly, meaning this had to be some sort of odd material- but it would only mean that Cassandra would have to ask. Why one pedestal and ‘proud to unveil’ for one pair of earrings that didn’t have anything odd to them?

~~~~

The individual meetings went by faster than anyone could imagine, with more of the crowd flowing out of either the showroom or shop- dazzled at the spectacle. Cassandra carefully slinked back towards the main group, acting as though she was admiring other pieces- a ring here, passing the couple of sets, until-

“Ah, hello there- I hope you’re enjoying the new opening?” She gasped, as they drew much closer to her. The fourteen people now left in the shop began to spread throughout the shop’s layout, leaving her in a far more intimate setting than she previously thought possible. The crowd cover had certainly been nice- but they were now milling up and down the aisles to gawk at the dainty jewelry, the tinkered toys, and the gorgeous gadgets.

Her attention snapped back to the artificer, who was now holding a curious device, one that seemed to be purifying the air. Cassandra had heard about them before, but never seen one so close, or so small- much larger versions were used in air factories. It only took her a few seconds to understand it- the small embroidered gas-bag at the back would fill, and slowly get puffed out by the user- and her mind dismissed it from any chance of danger.

She gave a polite yet faint smile, her mind racing to prepare some sort of platitude that would be enough to avoid detection.

“I certainly admired many of your pieces.” This was said with more than a little trepidation, which the artificer seemed to enjoy, bringing out a smile from underneath their goggles and wide-brimmed smithing hat.

“oh? So you know the rules…” And she did. She was very well-acquainted with them: her mother had even had a few friends whisked away under the Equal Rites, she’d seen them happily smiling with enchanted collars and enchanted rings… of course, for some of them she had been too young to understand, but now-

The slight puff of air brought her quickly back to reality, where the artificer stood next to her. They were clad in a soft shimmering gown, one that played off of their curves just like some of the rings on display. It wasn’t as frilly or poofy, and yet seemed to accentuate their body shape with an extra dimension- lending an odd effect to the gown. Cassandra wasn’t familiar with the material- as many artificers used off-world or off-dimension materials in their own creation… And now it was clear she was staring again, so she had to clear her throat and ask a question or else seem like a buffoon.

“Your own design?” This elicited a knowing smile, and a slow circular glide from their feet in a twirl around. This was to show the dress off, undoubtedly, and Cassandra delighted in it.

“No, unfortunately- but it was my material. The dressmaker from that forest with the slightly lewd name, in case you’re wondering how to get a matching set.” The reply almost seemed teasing, knowing- as if they could know her life story with just a glance. Again, not as if she’d be able to afford anything close to a single piece from the shop without serious considerations both conceptual and legal, financial (and legal) assistance, and magical ward prevention insurance. Even drafting up a contract would be far above her abilities and pay grade, but it could be the only surefire way to avoid any nastiness from anyone involved- especially an artificer.

“Hmm.. I would typically ask if there was one piece that stuck out to you, but I get the feeling I already know what it is. Given your silence… I’d like your name before I guess.” The remnants of the crowd had been slowly filtering out, unbeknownst to her, with one or two pieces being sold- the in-shop lawyer was already beaming and haggling with clients which Cassandra *had* seen- and the corner-store size lent the appearance of being quaint or familial. She had to admit it was a clever arrangement.

“I- sorry. Between the dress and the other pieces, I guess I’m a little starstruck. It’s not every day you get to ‘meet’ one, you know.” She hoped that her cheeks hadn’t blossomed into a blush- although there was no way to know for sure, only to hope and observe the artificer. She also hadn’t meant to any malice, although the hint of a second meaning was merely waiting to be picked up.

They were dangerous folk- many artificers had been caught with entire houses or brothels full of newly-rited thralls. Even tales of just one catching the eye of an entire town, using nothing but forks or pushpins or paperclips or slivers of metal and the inimitable inextricable tool that was their own wit, danced around the fringes of villages. Artificers were not to be listened to, a ‘boogeyman’ that assisted everyday life, that generously acted while greedily taking- in the same instance. Payment could very well be ‘your firstborn’ when dealing with them, and if it was… You’d best hope you weren’t an eldest child.

They took just another second to respond, a hand darting out from the gown. An immaculate white glove, made from plain cloth- which caused her internal tension to unwind quite a bit- which asked for her own hand.

“The name is Von-Quirandra, as I’m sure you’re no doubt aware. The shop is mine, recently acquired with… a little help.” The slight break made Cassandra take note, but she was careful not to advertise it as they continued-

“You may be wondering about the lawyer, he’s a family friend and came with the store.” She noticed a slight glint in the light, and this may have tipped them off because they continued, “Any and all gifts would be voluntary, non-contractual, and specifically not enchanted.”

“After all, I couldn’t expect someone to willingly accept things from an artificer without proper vetting or lineage- so you may view his, in the back office.”

They cleared their throat again, “As I requested, your name would be..?”

“Cassandra.” She didn’t know why she offered it so plainly.

“Cassandra…” The soft utterance, a shower of heavenly stars captured and smoothed into a ribbon off of which the word slid. They said it plainly yet perfectly, her skin crawling with delight and disquiet- but more of the former.

“Cassandra. Quite a lovely name. May I guess which piece caught your eye?” She nodded gently, as if trying to quiet and push aside the thoughts that yelled about the danger of even talking to an artificer.

“My first guess would be the Quirmian Collar- oh, I mean- the one on display towards the front of the store that you must have seen as you entered.” Truth be told, that was the one she’d missed, although the light was quite pretty on it. A highborn slave might wear such a necklace, so it wasn’t something Cassandra could have or even aspired to. No, their family didn’t wish for slaves- or wish to be them.

“Judging by the way you haven’t lit up like a firework, I’d say another one.. Allow me to try again- a private commission of mine? Perhaps the jade engraved set- I bet…” This time, their face moved even closer to her, as if quizzically judging her.

“No.” The terse response plopped out after another moment of silence.

“I see, Cassandra. Might I be permitted one last guess?” They matched her grin, and Cassandra hoped with all her heart that she didn’t appear to be blushing. With how both afraid and stimulated she was, her brain continued to rattle off reasons to leave, but her feet stayed put.

“The third and final guess is… Hmm. I don’t wish to waste it… I can rule one thing out, though- I know you didn’t request a private showing, so I’ll guess… the melting rings, using the sands of Terr-sichoré?”

Their previous smile began to curl into a frown. Their eyebrows, too-

“You seem to be much more of a mystery than you let on, Cassandra. Please.”

She blinked, unsure of what exactly to do and yet still recovering from the way they said her name.

“Please, tell me some more- what did you like? How might I know you?”

“I-uh, well, you know my name, and I come from the D’Antonia-“

“Oh!! Oh my goodness, Cassandra D’Antonia… I am humbled to have you in my presence.” Their crimson lips whispered the word with a soft affect- the perfect shiver traveling up her back in accordance with it. Her cheeks were now a beet-red. There was no chance of hiding it anymore.

“Thank you. I, erm, happened across the crowd, and…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. The crowd seemed to mostly be there to be talked to, but I did get quite a few purchases. More than I expected, if I may confide in such a prestigious family. It’s a shame that-“

Cassandra turned, hearing rather loud footsteps, which revealed just how startled and absorbed in each other they both were. She swore that despite her own reddening cheeks, the Lady Von-Quirandra seemed to be blushing as well. They turned back towards the lawyer, and were handed a report- although it only needed a quick scan of her attention.

“Ah, thank you. If you could, I think we could use a little more privacy.” The Lady Von-Quirandra handed it back to the lawyer, who withdrew to the office again, but that comment stuck in her mind. It caused her to notice-

She was alone. With an artificer. In their own shop.

“So, Cassandra- I understand you are just a bit afraid. There’s plenty of reason to be… but for a lady such as yourself, I wouldn’t dare try anything unless you asked for it.” their gown swished gently as they drew within whispering distance, voice so soft and smooth.

“I would be wonderfully glad to show the D’Antonia house around. If there is anything you can think of…”

The answer leapt from her mouth before she had time to realize it.

“The earrings.” Realizing she’d said it out loud, her eyes widened in intertwined surprise and fear, her arm now moving up to clamp her mouth shut.

Their eyes flashed in shock behind the goggles, so much so that they removed them.

“Oh my… Cassandra… I didn’t think it would be you who might fall prey to them.” The reverence that they had for her name… Goddesses be damned, the artificer might as well be kissing her right on the-

Her cheeks were barely able to burn a brighter red, as the flame colors spread up her ears and forehead. Banishing the thought, she blinked- only to look into the Lady Von-Quirandra’s… beautiful eyes. Their visage was so soft yet toned, pale- but it had a moonlight brilliance to it.

Even more striking, they took her hand- guiding it back towards the pedestal where the earrings await. The simple box, with the inelaborate studs… soon, the answers would be revealed. But did she really want them?

Their cotton enveloped hand began to caress her cheek, sending a wave of calm throughout her body.

“Oh, Cassandra… such a pretty darling. You’d like to know what’s so special about these?” They cooed, their normally charismatic voice turning lower and smoother- almost sultry… She nodded, her eyes fluttering under their careful ministrations- as if they were massaging her oh so wonderfully.

“You’re right about them. They’re so very special. One thing I’ve been working on for, well, years. My little personal project. They’re made with specific people in mind…” Her ears (and arousal) perked up slightly, but the soothing hands made sure it was only barely noticeable as she relaxed further.

“First, I do suppose a quick lesson in magic is required.” Their soft little titter revealed a delight in Cassandra she hadn’t thought was requited- but must have been all along.. The workshop entrance was right near them, and The Lady closed the door- hanging up their goggles carefully and continuing to explain.

“Magic requires power- the ability to mold the natural world… A focus or desire for that change… and some method to focus both power and desire into a physical good. A contract.” Some of this was purred delicately into Cassandra’s ear, and some was simply stated- as the hat slipped off and was put away on top of the goggles.

“We artificers simply adore making contracts-it’s much of the sparkle that helps each of us enjoy life. Having even just one minute of someone else’s life… access to their own imbued power, to their thoughts, their memories… I find it delectable.”

“So… I’m sure that you wish to draw up a contract… properly. Before you try them on, and for you to understand what they can do. I’ll ask for an hour, minimum of ten minutes…” Their moonlight skin had turned to a soft flushed rose now, having clearly… warmed up to Cassandra. This line of thoughts seemed to meander aimlessly, ending with a soft bump into the word ‘please’- whispered pleadingly to Cassandra.

She certainly was curious. Although her fears about artificers couldn’t be assuaged, The Lady certainly had an interest in her. Her mind was racing, risks thrown aside- filled with the new possibilities and the desire of pleasing someone who was interested in her rather than her family’s wealth or status. The ideas whirred in front of her-

Well, the lawyer would be available to draw up the contract. She’d be able to give just ten minutes… It could possibly endear her to The Lady, and it would be a way to get a free piece- which could be given off to another for disenchanting and selling… it, just in case. Presuming it didn’t do anything first. At the very least, she could talk to the lawyer alone.

And if… if the Lady did harbor certain unsavory desires for her, it might be… beneficial to get in- get out- and then use the money from the other artificer she found to disappear. See? There was definitely a way to escape. She’d be fine.

~~~~

Entering the lawyer’s office was strikingly different, as everything was simultaneously neatly organized and a sprawling jungle of paperwork. Cassandra was able to find it oddly relaxing- far enough away from the Lady Von-Quirandra to be immune from anything untoward, but close enough to still feel her influence on everything in the room. The finely crafted chairs, the softwood desk, the carefully stacked papers…

“So- I’m sure you understand the typical thoughts most clients have. Rest assured, you aren’t alone here- I’m also here to help. I’ve got some preliminary documents drawn up, although I’d need your help and name to complete them.” He was about six feet tall, making him just a bit shorter than The Lady (but larger, and certainly more mountainous than Cassandra). He had an awfully kind smile, and definitely seemed to be groomed daily in order to keep up appearances- the suit was certainly professional enough. However, her eyes were drawn to-

“Sir… your ears..!” Cassandra was quite surprised to find a pair of earrings in his ears, not quite matching the ones out there in the box- diamond shaped, but certainly of a much plainer material. It didn’t shimmer in the light, but still had the same design…

He shrugged this off with a chuckle, taking them out and showing them to her. “They’re quite plain, unlike the ones Milady has been working on. I requested the first prototype as payment for a rather unruly client.” Seeing them alone, with no box, made them feel so… Unremarkable. Tame, almost.

“I assure you, they are not enchanted in any way. Shall we get down to business now?” She nodded curtly, offering her name- which elicited a soft gasp from the lawyer, but did not pause his diligent writing. The D’Antonia name was still weighty enough to cause a dent- even though they’d fallen on harder times lately.

“Well, with that finished… How much time are you willing to give her? Would you like to give the full hour, or just the ten-minute minimum?” She paused, faltering…

“Sir… I still don’t know what it does.”

“I know.” His response was curt and quick.

“And that doesn’t seem odd to you?” Her eyebrows furled in shock, examining his haptics, trying to find any sign that she might be given a ‘free’ preview. One where she might not be risking anything.

“Of course not. It’s part of the guarantee- you won’t be able to share anything about the piece with Milady’s competitors if you walk away, and if you’re given an enforceable contract, you’ll have to abide by it. On the other hand, signing this contract will also protect Milady from anything untoward, as you can see from these paragraphs right here.” Well, he certainly was a good lawyer- she noticed those paragraphs, and her own family’s training told her that it was close enough to airtight for her safety…

“I see. So instead of a trial period, this contract is a trial period, and after the ten minutes, it will come off. Is that right?”

“Yes. If you’d like, we can draft up another contract for purchase when you’re done.”

“We’ll see.” She finished with the four-page document, taking the offered pen. “How is the time determined?”

“I’ve got the proper stopwatch right here, Ms. D’Antonia.” He pulled it out of his drawer, presenting her with a silver stopwatch- and she instantly noted the protective runes carved in it. Not only would it be protected from any magical interference, but it would undo any magical changes if it surpassed 30 seconds from the allotted time. And since there would be no way for either of them to mess with it… She turned it over in her hands before setting it down and sliding the contract under it.

“Are you ready, Ms. D’Antonia? The time will start when you exit the doorway.”

Cassandra’s signature and smug smile was enough to prove that she was. She’d find out about these mysterious earrings, and prove to herself that all the danger about artificers was nonsense. After all, she had this contract to protect her.

~~~~

The Lady met her right as she opened the door outwards, leaning against the pedestal they’d placed. Their smirk was much more graceful than before, although it still betrayed a particular interest in her.

“You haven’t left the doorway yet… Cassandra.~” Yet again, their words were a fluttering crescendo of affection.

“Well, ‘Milady’, you do have me ‘captive’ for ten minutes.” They cracked open the plain box, nodding… Their artificing gear was entirely gone, as well as the cotton gloves- allowing Cassandra a look at their face. It was rather smooth, with only a couple of wrinkled scars, as well as the common ‘forge-tan’… and yet it was so gorgeous Cassandra couldn’t help but look at it.

They brought the earrings forth, allowing Cassandra to examine them even more, but teasingly pulling them away at the last second. Only once she extended her fingers… finally touching the object of her intrigue, turning it over carefully. The earring backs seemed to be new, since she hadn’t been able to take it out previously, but she quickly found herself slipping them into one ear, and then the other.

That must have been what was so alluring about them, their simplicity…

Her foot involuntarily moved forward at the same time she heard a very loud CLICK in both ears. She felt the earring backs twist slightly, something fall to the ground…

and her thoughts vanished. Everything except what was directly in front of her faded, her mind shutting down instantly, only able to track what They.. no, Milady, was doing. The clack of Milady’s heels felt so dull, only picking up when something slipped from Milady’s lips.

“Cassandra? Are you still in there?” Their voice seemed almost… afraid. Had she been able to think properly, she would have known it was tinged with their concern and affection for her.

The response was a dry, dull, almost robotic “Yes, Milady.” Her head could not move an inch, she was so deeply and utterly enthralled.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” And now this demanded the reverse- she wasn’t uncomfortable, which was the oddest thing to her. Everything in her body must have been stiff, and yet she felt as if she were laying on a fine cushion.

“Good. I… I would like you to tell me of yourself. Then, how you feel about… me. Artificers.” Milady looked exhausted, but so wonderfully happy- their eyes welled with tears from seeing their invention so perfected. They pulled up an ornate chair in front of her, listening attentively with their head perched atop one of their palms. They seemed so at ease… resting into the chair’s natural shape and the armrests to listen to their little subject.

“Where should… should…” This quickly brought out a gasp, and widened eyes from Milady-

“Is Cassandra unsure how to refer to herself at the moment, with the backs in place?” It seemed like they had some experience with this, then- perhaps only one other, though, given their tone and reactions.

“Yes Milady.”

“Cassandra ought to use the third person for now. Understood? Nod, please, then continue from the beginning- starting with how she’s feeling, and then when she entered the shop.”

A gentle nod from Cassandra’s head, along with an odd feeling- bliss… presumably from following Milady’s order. Is this what artificers did normally? Have the thralls talk to them? If she could have a consistent thought, she would have tried to hold onto that one, but it was pushed down into nothingness by the calming backs.

“Cassandra is unsure what she is experiencing. She is… feeling odd. Although she stopped in to examine the spectacle, she felt… drawn to these earrings. Curious about them. There was something special about them.” Her speaking paused, as she saw Milady holding up one finger.

“Cassandra, please speak normally. Although… just a hint like this. Nod if you understand, and continue.” She felt her vocal cords unlock with a curt nod, utterly freeing her except for one- mouth finally able to move at her own will… but there was still the lingering urge to simply say what she was directed to.

“Cassandra is now aware of what might be so special about them. They make Cassandra unable to think. Unable to disobey, Milady.” At least her speaking had returned to normal- but that thought, too, slipped down into the void.

“I… Would normal Cassandra… How does Cassandra feel about me?”

“Cassandra feels intrigued, interested, stimulated, a-“

“I meant… Does Cassandra like me?” Now Milady was easily blushing, covering their face slightly.

After a very slight pause… “Yes, Milady.” was uttered from her lips, much of the affection she still felt dripping from her words.

“Does… Cassandra know how I feel about her as well?” This was clearly said with a tinge of embarrassment, but curiosity had taken Milady over.

“Cassandra feels that… yes, Milady may perhaps like her. Especially now, like this.”

“O-oh. I see. The attention is, ah, requited. Good! I, ah, believe we’ll move on now…” Milady was covering their head with their hands, clearly turning a deeper flushed red. Had Cassandra been able to properly recall this later, she would have noticed that Milady had turned away from her vision and towards a clipboard to assist hiding their shame.

“Very well… increase vision to normal parameters-“ which meant she could see again, able to focus and look around normally, “standard head mobility as well, and increase thoughts to twenty percent.” She…

Cassandra was thinking. In front of an artificer.

“Kneel.”

Cassandra was kneeling and looking up at an artificer. The sheer danger of what she had done pumped through her veins, but she could not bring herself to move any more than turning away her head slightly- but she didn’t want to look away from the beautiful Lady Von Quirandra.

“Oh my, that feels much better… more domineering, don’t you think?” This brought out an electrified smile, one that she stared at, enraptured and terrified alike. Their hand reached out to tip up her chin with a giggle, stroking her cheek and calming her in the process.

“Please… I know you’re probably afraid, but I don’t wish you to be. I wanted you to experience… this.” It was certainly blissful, not to have to think. Not to be a noble. Not to occupy oneself with all these preconceived notions, manners, passions, etiquette that had to be followed every second of being –

“Cassandra.” That name again, the one that made her eyelids flutter from simply hearing The Lady Von Quirandra say it. However, her eyes had to be open again- so they were opened.

“Please increase thoughts to full. How are you feeling?”

“I… what the hell did you do to me?” She couldn’t help but ask this in the kindest way possible, filled with a curiosity and a wistful arousal- this thought a balloon, inflating with potential.

“The backs have a certain enthralling power. One to eliminate potential thought, even as it happens, to allow for someone to control the wearer entirely. What’s more, they keep their wearers nice and obedient.” The Lady almost said this a little lustily, clearly enjoying the moment- but also playfully and reassuringly… looking down straight into Cassandra’s hazel eyes.

“I hope you understand their power well, now. At the end of your time, you’ll make a decision. It may not be today, perhaps in a few days, or weeks. I hope that you’ll choose to become my.. ah, well… ‘apprentice’.” The Lady went back to covering their face and peeking out at the kneeling figure below them

Her face contorted in shock, stretching in disbelief- before snapping back to a central position. Apparently her shoulders were not allowed to move much, but her face and brain were still ‘allowed’ to move. An apprentice? To an artificer? She couldn’t believe the offer- not least of which for being one of the least qualified people on the planet, but also for the incredulity of it all.

“I understand that you might be a-“

“Your apprentice, Lady??? I don’t know the first thing about-!~”

“Hush, please. I don’t wish for Ashton to be disturbed.” Her jaw instantly slipped shut.

“And that’s not quite true- I taught you ‘the first thing about magic’, and really all you would need to know. I… I need someone acquainted with selling. It truly takes a toll on me to do these kinds of shows. I can’t always afford the… showmanship to get up and move every time that a lot of nobles say I ought to show off my work more.” They slumped further into the chair, clearly sulking.

“I’m skilled, as you can see, but… not there, in that kind of arena. I’d rather be sticking my head in the oil jar than trying to upsell a ring that I didn’t even put that much effort into.”

Throughout this rant, Cassandra could see the lines on their face- clearly an exhausted person, much like her family- trying to get by the best they could.

“…besides, it would be… more than that.” The Lady cleared their throat before continuing, leaving a hefty dramatic pause.

“You could be free from your family name.”

The impossible idea spread through her mind in stages. Relief from the D’Antonias’ strict rules, the imposed penny-pinching, the etiquette- then that she would be with someone. Of course, the idea settled back in of artificers, and much worse-

“And you would only have one restricted hour at most. Maybe two, if we both feel… intimate that night.” This was said in increasingly hushed tones, causing an outbreak of blushing on both of their parts.

“Are you… proposing??” The Lady squealed in shame, answering-

“O-oonly to be my… girlfriend! I don’t want you to get any ideas of that just yet, but… I think I’d like that as well… I could make us a pair of rings, later…”

The flustered D’Antonia heiress couldn’t help but keep opening and closing her mouth, flabbergasted by the idea that seemed

“Keep your mouth shut, dear. Just… think about it for when you’re done. Which is… hm, soon. Too soon…” The backs pulsed gently with enchanted power, and the carefully wound silver pocketwatch chimed with one minute left.

“Return to thrall mode, just for now- but keep the vocal modifiers.” She felt her thoughts be blasted into the wind again, her body relaxing even further, letting go of all the tension inside her…

“Just keep relaxing, little Cassandra… I want you to understand what this is like. How blissful this can be for you. How obedient you can be made. And that this is an offer unlike any other- one where I will use you, remold you, make you into a new beautiful piece- one worthy of your own name. No more silly D’Antonia to hold you back and keep you inside a gilded prison.”

The Lady seemed much calmer, maintaining that more dominant affect, but… if Cassandra were able to think, she’d know it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from each of them. For the few seconds, they smiled and admired their thrall, four cheeks blushing in turn.

~~~~

The timer went off, returning Cassandra to her normal thoughts instantly- though it left her blushing as red as the first dress she’d ever worn to her family’s elegant ball. She rose, tentatively, under the gaze of The Lady. They slightly rose and-

It was just her instincts acting now, her base fear- and she ran out of the small corner shop into the rain. The thump of her heart pounding in her ears drove out the surprised shriek of the lawyer, the splash of mud against the cobblestone street, leaving behind only the knowledge of which street to take- left, right, center down the path here…

Cassandra arrived at the manor steps, and collapsed to her knees… a relentless sob had taken hold of her, tears and rain both streaking across her face.

Truth be told, she hadn’t realized she’d even stolen the backs until she’d taken them out of her ears, and yet- the urge to still treat them with care was there. All of this was happening so suddenly. There was so much that she just… didn’t know. Her own feelings were a jumble of butterflies, swirling and fluttering around inside…

She tried to sort them, to herd them- the way her mother had taught her, giving them all names and pretty colors, making them butterflies in her own mind-[herbarium].

But as soon as she’d plucked one out from the swirling horde, visualizing its soft iridescent wings, picturing the soft caress of Their glove again-

no.

Her legs crumpled weakly, pleading that no one would see her like this, so disheveled and undone by… the new shop.

She’d return to the shop tomorrow, return the backs, leave a note of thanks just to be… cordial enough, and just… flee. Run away somewhere. Get away from this ancient town and its horrid artificer.

The offer was just too good to be true.

~~~~

Some time later…

“Ah, hello, Missus Val-Periton! May I escort you to the back? Your pendant is ready.” Cassandra beamed happily at the couple that had strolled into the shop, her own earrings sparkling in the multitude of framed lights. The new verdant dress she strolled around the shop in was almost the shop’s mascot- with the new sign painted with a cartoonish version of it draped alongside the logo. Business was booming, especially since a familiar face could help ease the fears about artificers.

Her Lady Von Quirandra was placing the finishing touches on the precious pendant, and the couple was more than glad to finish paying- the pendant sparkled brilliantly in Her Lady’s hands. As the couple strolled out of the shop proudly, Her Lady gently brushed their hand against her cheek, repeating with the softest possible murmur the most precious words they both knew.

“You did so well for Me, Thrall Cassandra. I love you.” And with an idolizing sigh, Cassandra D’arvon Quirandra returned them.

fin

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch 8)

Chapter Eight: Phone Call (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

More. The thought runs through your head like a mantra as you shove your face harder into the eye piece of the microscope. I have to see more.

“You’re still in here?”

You’d been concentrating so hard that the sound of your boss’ voice nearly gives you a heart attack. You jump back from the lab counter. “You startled me,” you tell her while reaching up and rubbing your strained eyes.

“You’ve been in here for hours,” she frowns. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss your lunch break.”

“Oh,” you glance up at the clock on the wall. It was already fifteen minutes into your scheduled break time. “Wow, I didn’t even notice how long I’d been in here. Thanks.”

“Mmhm,” your boss eyes you for a moment. “What are trying to do in here anyway? You’ve got lines on your face from the microscope.” You let out a sigh and rub at your tired eyes again even though you knew the lines would still be there. Now that your focus was broken you could feel a headache coming on from all your hard work.

“I don’t even know,” You admit.

“Well go take your lunch,” Your boss says sternly. “And when you get back, you should read over the first draft of Simon’s manuscript. He just emailed it over. Plus, you need to give your brain a break from whatever it has been obsessing over lately.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree while walking out to the lobby together. You grab your phone and wallet from the break room and then head out to the nearest convenience store to pick up something quick to eat. After finding a quiet area to sit, you pull up Hawks’ name on your phone. You still felt strange that you had the ability to contact him directly. You stare at his number for a moment before pressing the call button. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey!” His cheerful voice comes through and an image of his big gorgeous smiles floats through your mind. You shake your head to get rid of the distraction, determined not to let him evade any of your questions this time.

“Hi,” You politely tell him who’s calling. “Sorry for bothering you. Are you free for a few minutes?”

“For you? Of course!” You look around in embarrassment even though nobody would be able to hear what he’d said even if they were there. “I’m on patrol right now, but I can talk and fly at the same time.” That sounded dangerous. “How can I help you?”

“I have a question about All For One,” You decide not to beat around the bush.

“Do all your conversations with friends start this way?” Hawks questions with an exaggerated sigh. “No, ‘Hey Hawks, how’s your day going? Did you stop any bad guys? What’d you have for lunch?’ Just straight to business.”

“You had chicken for lunch,” you blurt out, recalling all the lunches you’d seen him eat during your time in Kyushu.

“Lucky guess,” Hawks defends himself.

“Yeah,” You let out a dry laugh. “You’re right though. I shouldn’t have…” You’re cut off by the sound of someone shouting in the background on Hawks’ end.

“Aw thanks! I love you too!” He says before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry. Apparently I have a few supports around here.”

“You mean fangirls,” You tease.

“Are you jealous?” his smooth voice comes through, full of confidence.

“Of what?” You feign cluelessness.

“Oof!” Hawks sucks in a breath, “That hurts.” You can’t help but laugh a bit at his dramatics. You realize though that the conversation had gone off topic already. Hawks was very good at that.

“All right,” you try to get back to business. Your lunch break was only so long. “Seriously though, how difficult do you think it’d be to get access to information on All For One? I know they must have gotten samples to study since he has so many quirks.”

“Going right for the head of the snake, huh?” Hawks sighs. “You’re more ambitious than I thought.”

“He is able to both give and take quirks,” you rush to explain. “Studying his biology could give us a much better understanding of how quirks work and how they are inherited. The applications of that knowledge would be widespread and could potentially improve life, not only just for individuals, but for society as a whole.”

“Yeah, I totally get that,” Hawks agrees. “I really wish I could help you out, but the level of security clearance you’d need is beyond even my reach.”

“I kind of figured as much,” you can’t help but feel a little disappointed, not in Hawks but in your general lack of access to the things you wanted access to. “It’s just that I’ve sort of been working on something…”

“Well, maybe you can keep working on the nomu stuff,” Hawks suggests. “Keep publishing and getting your name out there.”

“I’d need to find something really groundbreaking though,” You say, not deterred at all by his lack of enthusiasm, “which is why I’ve been trying to strengthen my quirk.”

“What?” Hawks sounded truly taken aback.

“Maybe I got inspired being around you and your agency,” you hoped you didn’t sound ridiculous. “But I thought maybe I could somehow increase the amount of details I take in when I use my quirk. If I could use it more intensely for a shorter time period maybe? Of course there would be drawbacks… but it must be possible right? That’s the whole essence of a ‘super move’ for you heroes.”

“Yeah…” Hawks drawls.

“If I could enhance my quirk like that, I might be able to improve the accuracy of my research or even catch important information that I’d otherwise miss,” you continue to ramble. “If I could do that, maybe I’d be able to prove myself useful enough to get into the Hero Commission’s research lab.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Hawks replies.

“Yeah,” you pull your phone away for a moment to check the time. “Hey, sorry for bothering you with all this. I suppose I’m in the habit of running all my ideas past you now. And… I guess I value your opinion or whatever.” That earned you a charming laugh.

“No need to apologize, dear,” was his response. “You haven’t bothered me at all. Maybe next time we can set up another lunch date and talk in person.”

“Yeah, I’d be fine with that,” you felt yourself falter at being called ‘dear.’ After exchanging good-byes with the winged hero, you head back to your office. You weren’t sure if the phone call had really been that productive. Hawks hadn’t discouraged you from trying to enhance your quirk, but he hadn’t sounded very supportive either. For all his relaxed and easy going behavior, Hawks was a difficult guy to read. You tried to keep your mind from lingering too much on him or the nomu stuff for the next few days, but your sparks of curiosity were renewed near the end of the week after receiving an intriguing email. It was an invitation from renowned quirk researcher, Kyudai Garaki, to meet with him in his lab at Jaku Hospital.

#mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my writing

[reddie-fangirl24]

This was difficult cause WOW amazing film choices, I’d love any of the losers in the beginning scene of Cabin in the Woods? Like when they’re getting ready to leave, probably Richie as Marty the stoner and Eddie as Dana who doesn’t realize he’s having a full conversation without pants on, Beverly as Jules who just dyed her hair blonde, Ben as Curt who has to point out the pants, & Mike as Holden the hot new guy in the group?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION!

I hope you enjoy the story!

This was going to be a great weekend! Eddie couldn’t remember the last time the Losers club hung out. Funny, it was strange how he didn’t remember who Ben was for a moment. Why weren’t they spending much time together ever since high school started? 

Putting that worry aside, Eddie was busy getting dressed, packing all the suitcases that he needed. He was so happy to meet at Ben’s house. If his mother found out where he was really going and who he’d be with then he’d spend the rest of the weekend locked in his room. Nothing new.

Something fell out from between the pages of one of his school textbooks. Shocked, grabbing it, Eddie looked at the drawing he made of his history teacher.  

“What a piece of shit,” a familiar girl’s voice gawked over his shoulder.

“I was in a hurry!” Eddie yelled, slamming the drawing back between the pages. He scrambled for his inhaler on the table and took a puff. His heart was already racing enough. Thank God, it was not Richie. Oh, if anybody found out about his affection for his teacher then they were going to believe he was some kind of psycho.

Beverly giggled. She missed this. It had been a while since she last met up with her best friends. Just like Eddie, she couldn’t make out Bill’s voice over the phone when he called to invite her. And she almost forgot about living in Derry before moving. 

“You know what I mean. Do you hate that teacher? I always draw out the teachers that I don’t like and stick them on the dartboard.”

Eddie groaned, his cheeks growing hot. “Um, no, you see, I drew it-” He paused when he took a look at his friend’s hair. She was no longer his ginger-haired friend. Beverly was his blonde friend! “Holy shit, your hair!”

“Very fabulous, no?” Beverly asked, showing off her short locks like a model.

“I can't believe you did it!” Eddie exclaimed.  

“But it’s nice, right?” Beverly asked, growing nervous. Even she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with the change. The other girls at school all had blonde hair. She was always an outsider among them. “Could you please say something because I’m starting to get insecure about it and - “

“Oh God, no, it's awesome,” Eddie relaxed her, touching Beverly’s shoulder. “It looks good, really. I never thought you’d change your hair.”

“It was an impulse,” Beverly shrugged, trying to get off the subject. “I woke up one morning and thought it would be a good idea. Besides, we all need a change now and then, right?”

“Bill will like it,” Eddie remarked. He knew that he had feelings for Beverly in the time when they hung out together. Bill could never stop staring at her when they were together.

Beverly snickered, “That is if he’ll notice. Ben will probably notice it before Bill,” she remarked. And then she pointed to the picture that Eddie was holding. “You should get rid of that.”

Eddie looked at the textbook in his hand. Wait, which did she mean? The drawing inside or the textbook itself. “Huh?” he tried to act dumb.

Shaking her head, and smiling again, Beverly walked over to him and pointed at his chest. “Right, Eddie Kaspbrak, Homewrecker. Please. Do you know who you are going to hook up with this weekend? A boy your age with thick glasses.

Again, Eddie’s cheeks flushed. How did she know these things? “God, that's the last thing... if you treat this like a set-up I'm gonna have no fun at all!”

Beverly set up one of Eddie’s suitcases on the bed. He had two which took up most of the floor in the room. Funnily enough, she only packed one. “I'm not pushing you to do anything. But we're not packing this!” she indicated to the textbook. 

“This means we definitely won't have room for this,” she said as she took out the drawing from Eddie and dropping it to the floor. As Eddie went after it, he heard a ‘tsk’ noise. When he looked back up, Beverly was holding two of his school textbooks. 

“Oh come on, what if I'm bored?” Eddie argued. “And my mom wants me to study!”

“‘Soviet Economic Structures’? ‘The Aftermath of the Cultural.’” She made a gagging face. “No! We have a lake! Kegl We are the Losers on the verge of wild -- Look at my hair, man!”

She did make a fair point. “It’s great...”

Just then Ben burst into the room with a football. Bill was right behind, crashing into the door as he slid into it. He was a clutz, that was for sure. Accompanying them was Stanley who was not happy about their antics. 

“Think fast! And a going Mike Hanlon who is in the outfield, or in this case, the streets!” Ben dramatized as if he were one of those football announcers. 

 “That's a letterman jacket he's wearing and yes, that's a football he's throwing right at the girls.” Bill included in the dramatization as he swiveled around Eddie’s luggage. 

He and Bill practically tore about the room, running around and knocking objects over. Beverly had no idea that they became interested in football. Especially Ben. Was he losing weight?

“Would you guys stop?” Eddie asked of them, almost jumping on his desk when Bill ran by him.

“Please, you are going to break something if you are not careful!” Stanley shouted, keeping a safe distance at the door. 

“Well, faster than that...” Bill commented, Stanley’s words going in one ear and out the other. 

“Ben!” Somebody called from out the window. Eddie glanced out the window to see Mike. It had been a long time since he saw him. Bill threw the football out the window. Jumping into the air, Mike caught it. Lucky for him, a car stopped just in time when he hopped into the street. The driver was not happy with him.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he excused himself, letting the car drive on. That was an unsafe choice for him to make in the first place. He was just so ecstatic to spend the weekend with his friends. So, he went over the curbside and waited for his friends. 

“Are you guys insane?” Stanley asked them, clashing at his hair. He looked like he was going to burst an artery. 

Understanding the circumstances, Ben nodded. “Sorry, Stan.”

Finally, Bill noticed Beverly for the first time. He froze, staring at her. What a terrible time for his mouth to dry up. “Beverly.”

She smiled. “Hi, Bill.”

“Wow, look at your hair!” Ben remarked. He never thought that Beverly would do something like this. Her ginger hair was lovely. But it was so nice to see her again.

“See, I told you that Ben would be the first to notice,” Beverly elbowed Eddie.

“N-No, I d-did notice! I uh...” Oh great, the stutter was back, too. “It’s really great to see you.”

Beverly smiled at her friends, but her heart fell. At that moment she felt how unnecessary the blonde hair was. They always accepted her for who she was. “It’s great to be back. Now let’s get this weekend started!” she ecstatically threw her arms into the air. 

“I never knew you were the type to actually take textbooks home,” Ben innocently joked. He hoped that it wouldn’t insult Beverly. When they did go to school together she was hardly ever in class. She never had the homework and quipped to the teacher that she didn’t take the textbook home with her for assignments. 

Eddie took the textbook back from Beverly. “There’s nothing wrong about taking a textbook on the trip,” Stanley commented. And then he was the one to get a look from everybody. 

“Seriously? Professor Bennett covers this whole book in his lectures. Read the Gurovsky; it's way more interesting and Bennett doesn't know it by heart so he'll think you're insightful.” Bill explained. Beverly glanced his way. Did Bill actually learn some poetic terms while she was away?

“We’d better get going,” Stanley told them, leaving the room. “Where is Richie anyway? He said that he’d be here by now!”

Eddie got all his belongings together. Richie. He was spending the weekend with Richie. They hadn’t done that in a long time. 

Before he left the room, Ben nudged him. “You have no pants.” Gasping, Eddie scrambled to get pants. He was really standing here in his underwear the whole time? Taking a puff from his inhaler, he had to relax. This was going to be a fun weekend.

“Mike! Crazy mad skills of catching!” Bill told Mike once they were outside. They gave each other a high five.

“You laid it in my hands, I did but hold them out,” Mike commented. 

“Hey, Mike! How is it going?” Beverly greeted her friend with a hug. 

“I’m great. It’s nice to see you, Bev. Wow, look at your hair,” he remarked, taking a look at her gorgeous locks. 

“Hey, Mike, how have you been?’ Eddie was next to greet him once he came out of the house. He struggled down the steps with all his luggage. 

“Great. Thank you guys for letting me join. It’s been a while since we all met up,” Mike noted. He was not going to bring up the reason for their avoidance. This weekend was not about revisiting the shadows of the past. It had been a long time since he actually had fun. Being home school had its perks, but he did not enjoy the loneliness. 

“Do you need help with your bags, Eddie?” Stanley asked his friend. He was struggling to lift his heavy bags into the trunk of the RV that Mike was able to talk his grandfather into borrowing. This thing sat in his farmland for years. Luckily, it was working fine.  

“We’re going away for a weekend, right?” Beverly joked. “It’s a weekend, not an evacuation!”

“I have packed everything that I needed in case of any dangerous predicament!” Eddie commented. “Trust me when I say there is nothing in those cases you won't be glad I brought.”

“What could happen?” Ben asked, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Tons of things,” Stanley remarked. “We could run into poison ivy, there could be jellyfish in the water, or - “

“Okay, Stan, we didn’t need an answer. Remember, we’re supposed to be having fun,” Bill reminded him. 

All that was missing was... “Oh my, God,” Eddie commented when he looked across the street to see a car parking. It was half parked up on the sidewalk, annoying to women who were walking by. 

And there was Richie Tozier, his mouth on a huge bong. He looked like he had trouble maneuvering it in the small car that he owned, hitting the horn by accident. Who’s to say that Eddie was surprised. Getting high and joking around was all Richie cared about. 

“Richie!” Beverly called out to her friend. Oh, how she missed him. She ran up and gave him a hug. But that hug only lasted a second. “Shit, you stink!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Richie?” Stanley nagged him when he ran up to his car. He looked around as to make sure the police were not around. 

“People in this town drive in a very counterintuitive manner, and that's what I have to say,” Richie giggled, obviously high out of his mind. His glasses were skewered on his head.

“Do you want to spend the weekend in jail?” Ben asked him. “'Cause we'd all like to check out my cousin's country home and not go to jail!” 

“Richie you should know for a fact that this is not okay!” Beverly was next to lecture him.

Richie took out his duffel bag.“Statistical fact: cops will never pull over a man with a huge bong in his car. Why? They fear this, man. They know he sees farther than they and he will bind them with ancient logics.” He paused, taking a longer look at Beverly’s hair. “Have you gone grey?”

His comment resulted in Beverly giving him the finger. Things hadn’t changed at all. 

“You're not bringing that thing in the rambler!” Eddie told him. 

“A giant bong, in Mike’s van?” Richie went and poured the water out. Removing the bowl, Richie sticks it in a little holder inside the tube and telescopes the entire thing down, pulls a lid off the bottom, and pops it on the top, making it look exactly like a can of Fresca. 

“What are you, stoned?” Stanley asked him, shaking his head in disbelief. Arguably, he was happy to be going on this trip. He missed their adventures.

 “As Bolde,” Richie remarked with little care.  They all rolled their eyes. Well, that was Richie Tozier for you. 

“Come on, we’d best hit the road,” Mike told them, waving them inside. “I can take the first lag. Ben, you have the directions, right?”

As they were all getting into the van, Richie elbowed Eddie. “Eds! You fetching minx? Do you have any food?”

“Don’t call me Eds!” Eddie warned sticking a finger in his face.

“Come on, you like it! You know it!”

“No, I don’t! Call me Eds one more time on this trip and I will bury you in your grave!”

This was going to be an exciting weekend alright. 

“Everybody ready?” Mike asked in the front seat. The Losers shouted in glee, throwing their hands up like they were on a roller coaster. “Then let's get this show on the road!”

#Reddie #cabin in the woods #it 2017 #it movie #benverly #billverly #it crossover #commission #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #Beverly Marsh #Ben Hanscom #Mike Hanlon #Stanley Uris

[raendown]

Pairing: KakashiShisuiSakura Word count: 1810 Soulmate au: The one where everyone has a tattoo that shifts under your skin to reach towards your soulmate

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 209

Shisui was pretty sure his ink was just confused. He’d never heard of that being possible but there were a lot of people who had called him impossible in varying tones throughout the years so he wouldn’t put it past himself to have the first indecisive soul ink in the world. There were times when he thought that he knew who his soulmate was and of the two options he had narrowed it down to he could admit that he would be equally excited to be matched with either of them and yet…

And yet his ink didn’t seem to want to settle on either person. 

In Kakashi’s presence he could feel exasperation just as often as fondness, never a dull moment. As a child he’d been enamored with rules almost to the point that they became his entire personality but in the years since then he had blossomed in to an entirely different person, now a grown man prone to tardiness and napping in trees. His laid back attitude was something Shisui had appreciated on more than one occasion when he needed someone to remind him that life was more than just endless missions. Life could also be lazy afternoons reading smutty trash in public parks. 

With Sakura he always felt just as happy, though. Her determination and sense of justice warmed his heart every time he was lucky enough to watch her either on the battlefield or in the hospital. A woman of many talents, she had honed them all through hard work and a sense of dedication that Shisui couldn’t help but admire. If Kakashi was a lazy Sunday afternoon then Sakura was a fire determined to burn as brightly as possible. 

Sometimes he wondered if the ink in his skin was leaving the choice up to him but how was he meant to choose between two such perfect options? It was hard to imagine ever being completely happy when a part of him would always be yearning for someone else no matter how much he loved the person he ended up with. Because he did love them, both of them, and the deeper his feelings grew the more he began to think that he almost didn’t want to know after all which of them was his true soulmate. Knowing somehow felt worse. To definitively settle on one would be to admit that he would never have the other. In a way he was almost grateful at times that his ink could not decide, saving him the heartbreak of letting go. 

But not on days like today. Times like now, as he sat panting at the edge of training field number seventeen and watched the two pieces of his heart spar against each other, all Shisui felt was a deep aching want. Either or both, he wasn’t feeling picky. In that moment as he watched the flex of Sakura’s muscles and the grace of Kakashi’s supine dodge he wanted nothing more than a pair of arms around him and an end to the confusion. 

“Ah ah,” Kakashi taunted as he skipped away from another punch that would have taken his head off if it connected. “Someone’s form is a little sloppy today, ne?” 

“Yeah I noticed you haven’t been able to land any hits yet,” Sakura shot back.

“I thought I’d let you tire yourself out so poor Shisui could have an easy win. Look at him over there, all red in the face and tired out after just one round.” Kakashi turned to aim a quick wink over towards the edge of the field and both of them laughed when Shisui flailed. 

“O-oi!” he called, hurrying to defend himself. “I just didn’t sleep well last night!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he winced. What a weak defense. He wasn’t surprised to see both of his friends pause in their mock battle to snicker at him. A moment later he also wasn’t surprised to see Kakashi take advantage of the momentary distraction to move as fast as his lightning nature, stepping in close to press a kunai against the soft skin over Sakura’s jugular vein. The two of them traded a heated look that made Shisui groan softly to himself. Why did they both have to be so attractive?

“Superb. Well done. Excellent. You won by cheating!” Sakura plastered a brilliant smile across her face that could not have been any more sarcastic if she tried, though it was easy to see the genuine fondness hiding underneath. 

“Don’t be sassy just because you lost,” Kakashi admonished her with the same fondness in his mock lecturing tone. 

The two of them traded false bickering and insults as they separated, weapons sliding back in to holsters and dust beaten off of clothing before they turned to make their way across the field. By the time they got close to where Shisui was resting against a tree they still hadn’t come to a solid agreement on whether Kakashi had actually won that round. 

“Why don’t we let Shisui decide?” Sakura lifted one eyebrow challengingly. “I’m sure he’ll make the right choice.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Think you can pick the best between us, Shisui? The clear winner? The right choice?” Turning on the charm as only he could, Kakashi turned to send him another wink that would make anyone’s heart beat out of control. 

“I don’t, uh, well…”

Rubbing at the back of his head, Shisui tugged on several messy curls and tried to think of some way to explain that he was the last person qualified to make a choice between them without admitting why. Between the two of them he was certain one was the person meant to bond to him for a lifetime and yet-

And yet, come to think of it, if that was true then at least one of them should have ink of their own reaching back. Ink that should not have been as confused as his. Strange to think that either of these paragons of confidence would still hesitate to approach him after all this time. Without the confusion of ink that leapt back and forth in a way it wasn’t supposed to it should have been easy for them to conclude that he was their soulmate. 

Before he could think to stop himself, Shisui let his eyes drop to the hands hanging loose at their sides. From his spot huddled on the ground they were both of a height with his face. Although both of them wore gloves they were fingerless affairs that afforded Shisui the perfect view of pale skin patterned with ink in undefined shapes. Both of them. With a dry swallow he tried not to let the strange disappointment show on his face as he realized that even finally allowing himself to look hadn’t changed a thing; he still had no better clue as to which one of them belonged to him. Even worse, now there were doubts growing in his mind that it was either of them. Surely if one was his soulmate they would have noticed and approached him about it - or so he assumed. 

There was, after all, always the chance they might not approve of the match. 

“Can’t we just call it a draw?” he asked pathetically. “I wasn’t really paying too much attention.” A complete and utter lie. There were few things in the world he paid more attention to than the two strong, gorgeous figures standing over him now. Sakura called his bluff with a bark of laughter. 

“Like hell you weren’t,” she said.

“Maa, maa, Sakura-chan don’t be so mean! Shisui can take all the time he needs to come to the right conclusion!” Kakashi hummed pleasantly and held out a hand, an offer to help him up, and for one single crazy moment Shisui almost thought he saw the ink on those fingers move. But that was silly. His was the only ink that seemed to twitch and jump about as though confused.

He had time to lift one hand and hesitate before Sakura held out one of her own as well with a confident, “Ha! Don’t try and butter him up!” 

“Would I do that?” 

“Yes.”

“I am wounded!”

“Huh, you’re about to be!” Rolling her eyes, Sakura blew a lock of hair away from her sweaty face and wriggled her outstretched fingers. “Come on, I’ll help you up Shisui. Because some of us won’t try and butter you up just to convince you to declare them the winner of a silly spar!”

Kakashi gasped dramatically. “Don’t listen to her, Shisui! It’s all lies!”

Almost as if in slow motion he watched the both of them reach out for him at the same time, muscles frozen, his own hand suspended in the air where he was powerless to move it. He watched their fingers close around his. Then with a thundering in his heart he watched as all three of their inks flowed together and settled in to stillness like three puzzle pieces united at last.

“Oh…” His soft exclamation drew his companions’ attention to where his eyes were fixated, all three of them holding very still as though not to disturb the moment. “Looks like...I don’t have to choose after all.”

Seeing it now it was hard to imagine that he could ever have believed he only had one soulmate. The phenomenon was rare but it was not unheard of; why had he never considered this before? Looking back over the years, he realized that in all the time they had spent together the three of them must have never been touching at the same time. They had, of course, thrown their arms over each other in camaraderie or support but not like this with all three of their hands together where their ink could meet and explode in to brilliant color. 

“Two soulmates,” he heard Sakura whisper. “I have two soulmates?”

“Well that explains a lot,” Kakashi mumbled. 

Shisui blinked, looking at both of them a little closer. Then without warning he threw his head back and laughed. “Have we really all been confused about this for all these years? And none of us said anything?”

Both of his companions traded sheepish looks and it only made him laugh all the harder. Strong fingers tightened around his own, anchors to keep him grounded through the tears of bitter mirth and the relief crashing through his veins. He didn’t have to choose. No more nights lying awake and tearing himself apart between two people who held his heart so equally. From now on they would hold his heart together as they were always meant to and Shisui, surging up from the ground to pull them both towards him for a tight embrace, could not possibly think of anything that would make him happier. 

#rae writes #soulmate collection #kakasakushi #kakashi #shisui #sakura #fanfiction #soulmate au

[pagesofivy]

San Francisco Flowers

Prompt: Commission for @theweepingvulcan91 for Spock x human!reader

Maybe it’s the first time Spock is seeing the reader out of uniform in something nice and flowy, if that makes sense. Them being on shore leave and Spock shows the reader one of his favorite places in San Francisco or wherever they’re located

Warnings: None, just lotsa fluff. This is a Star Trek fic, so if that’s not your bag of chips, please ignore it.

Beta: @arrow-guy

Word Count: 1758

Tagging: @meganwinchester1999 @calmjoon @quilliamfears @winchester-with-wings @mrswhozeewhatsis @myfand0msandm0re @feelmyroarrrr @danijimenezv @mogaruke @aikibriarrose @sea040561 @becs-bunker @letsdisneythings @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @autoblocked @ashengem @mysticalhood-main @haven-in-writing @emoryhemsworth @sassy-losechester

Spock seems almost excited for the upcoming shore leave, which is concerning. Spock doesn’t usually show emotions, but he was practically vibrating in the month leading up to it. It’s so unlike him that you discretely try to check his vitals to be sure he’s not sick or poisoned or something. He notices your attempts of course, but only arches an eyebrow, too amused by your concern to be worried.

It’s the first real shore leave since you two started dating three years ago, and it’s on your mother’s home planet, Earth. You’ve never been there, having been born on a Starbase in the Alpha Quadrant, and you’re excited to visit the home of your heritage. Spock’s done a lot of research and has already picked out where he wants to show you, he just won’t tell you. Jim’s keeping the secret too - hell, the whole Enterprise is keeping the secret, giving each other knowing grins when you walk in the room. At one point a random yeoman you run into tells you how lucky you are and that you’ll love where Spock is taking you, before scurrying out of the room to attend to some errands Dr. McCoy has him running.

You try to reason with Spock, ask him where you’re going because you’re curious, even lying and saying you don’t like surprises (which he calls you out on), but he won’t budge. You try the logical route, stating you need to know where you’re visiting so you know what to pack, but he just gives a vague answer, saying “It’s going to be humid, and will likely rain a lot. I’ve been advised we wear sun protection, despite the precipitation. We can purchase anything you might end up missing.”

The day before you’re set to leave, you pack, throwing in as much varied clothing as you can. Nothing for cold weather, but pretty much everything else on the weather scale, you’re prepared for - though you’re definitely still paranoid you’re forgetting something. You push that worry down though, saying your goodbyes to those staying on the ship or going places you’re not. You’ve been able to cross some places off your possible destinations list, like Chicago, New York City, and New Orleans, but that still leaves a lot of places open, and you have no idea if he’s planning to go to the big city or a small, rural town, or even somewhere in between. There are Starfleet bases everywhere that might be your stop.

The morning of your departure, you make sure you have everything, checking to make sure Spock has his stuff as well, though it’s pretty unnecessary. Never once has Spock been unprepared, not counting the crazy shit Jim pulls. Jim’s special brand of chaos can’t be prepared for. You go about finalizing your away messages and protocols until it’s time to go, and then you’re off to the transporter room.

Placing your suitcase on one of the transporter platform circles, you step onto your own and catch Spock doing the same in your peripheral vision. You face him fully and wink, to which he responds with a smile and then nods at the person manning the controls. You watch as Spock de-materializes before your eyes, and with a glance at the chief, your particles are making their way down to Earth.

The first things you notice when you’re fully materialized are the palm trees. There are potted ones everywhere in the giant transporter room, and you can see more outside. You immediately put the pieces together and realize you’re somewhere in California. The person there to run the transporter greets you then gets back to work, pointing to where Spock is before ignoring you completely in favor of bringing more people down.

Walking up to Spock, you briefly touch his hand and he smiles a little. “Welcome to San Francisco, (Y/N).” There’s no grandeur to his statement, but you can still see the excitement simmering beneath the surface and it’s contagious because it’s San Francisco! It’s been on both of your lists to visit for as long as you can remember, and being here is a dream.

“Really, San Francisco? You managed to keep quiet about us going to San Francisco? I’m impressed, Spock.” You tease him as he herds you out the door, shuddering as the heat and humidity of the city hit you. “Oh gods, humid indeed. Let’s get to where we’re staying asap. I need time to adjust after the climate-controlled ship.” Spock smirks at your complaints and hands you your suitcase before grabbing his PADD and pressing a few buttons.

“We’ll be there momentarily,” Spock assures, and a few minutes later a hovercar shows up to take you to the hotel. The ride there is mostly quiet, you and Spock both distracted by the sights of the city. Once there, he checks in and you head up, ready to relax for the evening and prepare for the adventure ahead.

The hotel isn’t very fancy, and the room itself is pretty basic, but it has a gorgeous view, a comfortable bed, and air conditioning, all for which you’re grateful. The humidity outside stuck to your skin in the most uncomfortable way, and the cool air is a welcome relief.

Spock puts his things away in the drawers and you do the same, pulling your PADD from your suitcase and sitting on the bed to read once everything is organized. He settles in beside you and pulls up a map of San Francisco on his PADD.

“(Y/N), where do you want to visit while we’re here?” he asks, and you lean your head on his shoulder, looking at the map with him. You point out a few places and bring up a few of your own, and a schedule of sorts is set up for the week before falling asleep beside each other.

The week is full of sights, from Alcatraz to the Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown and more. It’s overwhelming in the best way, so many sights and so much history taken in at once. Spock wants to end the week with the Golden Gate Bridge, so that’s where you end up.

On the morning of your last day, you make sure to wear something Spock’s never seen you in- a flowy dress. After all the form-fitting uniforms of Starfleet, it’s a welcome break, and you love how the occasional breeze moves it around your body like it has a mind of its own.

You definitely notice Spock staring for long periods unabashedly, and it makes you feel more confident in your choice. You’re pretty much unable to stop smiling the whole day, and you hold your head high. While Spock never makes you feel unattractive, him finding it hard to look away is a big confidence boost.

Standing at the vista point of the Golden Gate Bridge, your breath is taken away as the sun slowly begins to set, washing the water with a warm glow.

“Spock, this is beautiful,” you murmur, pressing your hand to his. Spock picks your hand up and presses a kiss to it, ever aware of the importance of small human gestures like that, then tugs, pulling you away from the railing.

“I have somewhere else I desire to show you, (Y/N).”

He leads you down a path, through trees and bushes and flowers, until you come upon a greenhouse. He speaks briefly with someone out front, then you both walk in, immediately enveloped by the scent of hundreds of flowers. You pause for a moment and just breathe them all in, eyes closed, trying to name the scents, but it’s impossible; there are too many, and you’re not a great botanist.

You and Spock walk through the flowers, hand-in-hand, with him being ever patient as you stop to look at and smell nearly every flower you pass. Eventually, you come upon one of your favorites and you drop his hand, moving to immerse yourself in the flower as much as possible. They’re so rare to see outside of pictures on the Enterprise that you want to savor the moment.

When you feel you’ve ignored Spock too long, you turn to find him on one knee, small box in hand, and your heart practically stops.

“(Y/N), as you know, I tend to rely more on logic than emotion. But you make me want to use my emotions. Correction, you make my emotions surface, far easier than anyone or anything else. After these three years together, I believe we know each other well enough, and I know there are no other beings out there for me; hopefully, I am the only one for you. I chose to propose by these flowers,” he indicates the nearby petals, “because I know they are your favorite, and aesthetically pleasing, and I wanted you to have a beautiful memory of this moment. I would like… (Y/N) I would like to enter into koon-ut-so'lik with you. As the humans say, will you marry me?”

You’re speechless, tears in your eyes, and you kneel down in front of him, nodding the whole time like a madman. Somehow you manage to choke out a “yes!” and Spock grins like he’s won an incredible prize. He takes your hand and slides the ring on your finger carefully, pressing gentle kisses to each fingertip, then rests his forehead on yours, allowing you to see his thoughts through your bond.

He shows you the joy, happiness, and love he feels around you, all the illogical emotions that surface without his control. Memories of the two of you flash through his mind, the first time you meet, your first “date,” moving into shared quarters on the Enterprise, and so much more. You’re once again overwhelmed, tears openly streaming down your face, and show him the same thing: the security and adventures he gives you, the rightness of being by his side, and your take on all the memories he showed you, plus a few of your own, admiring him when he wasn’t looking.

After what seems like forever of sharing - though it could only have been minutes - you separate and stand, though Spock holds your hand and won’t let go. Your PADDs begin beeping shortly after, messages from Jim telling you it’s time to return to the ship, and with a sigh, you realize how late it’s gotten.

“Let’s go home then, Spock.” You murmur, and he kisses your forehead before nodding and leading you out of the greenhouse.

“Home it is, (Y/N).”

#Spock x reader #star trek fic #fanfiction #twx writes #twx fanfiction #star trek #vulcan x human #fluff fic

[alphawave-writes]

Prophets and Messengers final chapter: Beyond Touch

Synopsis: Now immortal, Sigma and Harold share a tender moment as they plan the next stage of their lives together.

Read it here on or AO3. You guys can also find me on twitter @alphawave13.

If you like my writing, please do support me by buying me a ko-fi, becoming a patron on Patreon or requesting a fanfic commission from me. Especially with COVID, any little bit helps me out a lot.

-

Sigma awoke in a cart of all things, travelling along an abandoned road. There was patches of green amidst the drab yellow sand, the sun setting over the horizon. What looked to be a winding river of crystal blue rolled over the flatlands. He glanced down and noticed that his clothes had been changed, replaced with something more similar to what the Oasis locals wore. His hands were bandaged and bruised, the golden jewelry of the priests now adorning his fingers but otherwise he was fine. A donkey was pulling the cart slowly, led forward by a man in familiar clothes.

Sigma shifted, catching the man's attention. They turned around and smiled warmly. Sigma could not see their face clearly, but he didn't need to. From the warmth that enveloped his core at the sight of this man, he already knew exactly who it was.

"Welcome back, Siebren," Harold said softly.

Sigma sat up slowly, only to smack his elbow into something. There were a lot of jars in the cart he was in, as well as a few boxes with rattling coins, as well as some baggae filled with extra clothes. They all clinked around within the cart, making their contents known to anyone who dared be near them. "How did we not get attacked by bandits?" Sigma's eyes wandered the horizon. "Where are we?"

"I pulled a few favours from your guards to sneak us out, and I paid them for their trouble. As for where we are, well…I'm not so sure about that." Harold glanced at the sunset. "We're heading East though. Away from Oasis."

"So this is it then. No turning back," Sigma said. He felt for the spirits' presence and was relieved to find that they had settled down somewhat, their strength renewed. Sigma focused his power and was surprised to feel the presence of something else inside of him. A new well of energy, vast and limitless and brilliant and destructive like the sun. He'd felt this energy before, every time his skin ever made contact with Harold.

He turned to Harold, eyes wide and mouth agape. Harold let go of the reins to the donkey and reached out for Sigma's hand. Their energies swirled around each other before combining together. It was one and the same. This power was one and the same.

"You're immortal now," Harold said. "Just like me."

"Immortal?" Sigma whispered.

"That was the only way I could save you. I saw your lifestream, and it was broken to pieces. If I didn't do it, then you'd be dead. I couldn't save you either way, I had to, I…" Harold took a shuddery breath in and out. "I'm sorry. I panicked, and I didn't want to let you go, and now you're cursed like me."

Sigma stared deeply into Harold's eyes. They appeared almost golden in the dying sunlight. "You didn't want to let me go?"

"I didn't say I love you because it was the heat of the moment," Harold chuckled bashfully. "Or perhaps you didn't understand me then. Would it make more sense if I said ik hou van jou?"

Sigma's cheeks went crimson. "Y-you didn't…"

"I never did tell you I used to live in the Lowlands myself for a bit." Sigma could hear Harold's smirk even if he couldn't see it all that well. "I might have picked up the local language during my stay."

Sigma turned his head away. "So ever since the night of the full moon, you…"

"I know you love me, Siebren. For a long while now," Harold said. "And if we're being honest, I've probably loved you for even longer than that."

Sigma went silent for a few moments, taking in the sunset, the slight breeze, the soft bushes and the flowing river and the skittering animals. He must have passed through this place at least once. He didn't just stumble into Oasis with no memory, he was guided there by maps and equations, back when he was still blessed with the sense of sight. But did his younger self, with crystal clear vision and a sharp mind, truly see this sprawling, beautiful landscape? Did he appreciate the chaotic beauty of nature? Did he see the magic in life? Of course he didn't. The grass was greener on the other side. Only when he lost his vision could he truly see the world for its tragic beauty.

The cart was still steadily moving, the donkey not slowing one bit. Sigma’s eyesight was still horrendous, but he saw the teared edges of Harold's clothes, the purple knuckles and scratched red arms, and the lethargy in Harold's movements. It must not have been an easy feat to sneak out of Oasis. Talon had its clutches on the city, and they would not rest until they had the ultimate power of limitless life. Harold would have fought, but the idea of Harold fighting his battles was not a pleasant one. He wanted to protect, not be that had to be protected. But then again he could not see this coming. He suspected not even the spirits did.

Sigma floated up and out of the cart, moving side by side with Harold. He turned to Harold and nodded his head sharply. Harold let out a quiet sigh as he rested his head on Sigma's shoulder. In turn, Sigma wrapped his arm around Harold's waist and floated him up, letting both their feet hover just above the ground. A small comfort, but it might be enough.

"So what do we do now? Now that we're immortal, I mean," Sigma said.

"I don't know," Harold admitted. "You?"

"I'm…I'm not sure. I don't know what is out there anymore. There are humans and animals, but also other beings in a realm just beyond our reach." He reached his hand out to the sky. "They're watching us, even now. Waiting to make their move, for good or evil or none of the above. Now that I've been uprooted from my home, I might never know who or what they are. My greatest experiment might never be solved."

"Again, I'm sorry," Harold frowned.

"Don't be," Sigma said, letting his face soften. "You saved my life."

Harold rubbed the back of his head bashfully, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips. "I didn't give you the elixir just because I've got feelings for you. I've seen the way you pour yourself into research, the joy it brings you, the structure it provides. Given the gift of infinite life, you'd make great things, I'm sure of it." Harold's smile faded. "If I'm lucky, I might be able to tag along for the ride. Make my mark on the world—a good one, that is. So far all I've done is bring disaster to everybody around me."

"You don’t bring disaster," Sigma said.

"Then what about this situation? We won't be able to know peace. We each have our own ghosts chasing us. We can't die naturally, but that doesn't mean we can't be killed. Soon as our enemies find this out, they will not rest." Quieter, Harold said, "I don't want you to fight my battles, Siebren. Just as I'm sure you don't want me to fight yours."

Sigma turned his head away, frowning deeply. That was the big thing still. They may both be immortal, but they may not necessarily be immortal together. Even bound together like this, they could still drift apart. Their demons were still chasing them, and they'll follow them both to the ends of the Earth, possibly for all eternity.

"You saved my life," Sigma repeated slowly.

"You said that already," Harold remarked.

"Because you saved my life more than once," Sigma replied. "I've done horrible things, Harold. Unspeakable monstrosities commanded upon me by both Talon and the spirits. They feed on my weakness, both of them, like leeches to the jugular artery, and I barely escaped with my life. I could've squatted at any abandoned building, but I chose the temple because it was far away from everybody. Nobody would judge me for the monster I was. Nobody would ever be harmed by me. When rumours of the Oracle emerged, I had enough money to hire some guards, but most obey me because they fear what I can do. You were the only one to see me as a man."

"Siebren," Harold whispered.

"I don't know what you see in me, I don’t. You see me as something capable of so much good, even though I’m not. You believe that I am special, and that I am worth loving." Siebren frowned. "Maybe if I hear it enough, I’ll believe it myself. Even without any evidence.”

Harold smiled softly. “This is what I mean.”

Sigma tilted his head. “About what?”

“About loving you for all eternity.” The strings reappeared between their chests, and Harold plucked one gently. A wave of warmth caressed Sigma from the inside out. “You really are my soul mate.”

Sigma felt for one of the strings and stroked it. Heat collected near his lips. From the way Harold's eyelids fluttered, the same occurred on his lips. “And you are mine,” he said.

“Is that a promise?” Harold whispered, eagerness and trepidation and hesitation staining his voice.

Sigma smiled shyly. “Only if you will let me.”

Harold giggled, his hand rising up to hide his gorgeous smile and his crimson cheeks. “I’m holding you onto that promise. I don’t wanna let you go that quick.”

Sigma gently guided Harold's hand away from his face, pulling it down so they could entwine their fingers together. “I think you’ll find I’m very hard to get rid of once I’m attached to someone.”

“Good,” Harold squeezed back. “So am I.”

They took turns walking the donkey and the cart, conserving their strength for a journey of untold length. A small town was just in the distance, with light and food and drink, and most important of all, an inn they could shelter in. As they entered the inn, Sigma noted the scent of cooked meats and the clink of jugs of warm beer. The local drunks were lounging in a corner while a couple of men smoked from an Argilah. Between the two of them, they had plenty of coins, not that it would do much for them once they passed the border. They might as well be frivolous tonight. This might possibly be their last night in relative comfort, at least for a while.

They ordered the best food and drank the local beer, chatting freely about anything and everything that came to their mind in a quiet corner of the inn. It only seemed right that Sigma opened up about everything. It was the least he could do, to repay for all the times Harold had opened his mind up for Sigma's probing. The very first thing that they both learned was that Sigma was a lightweight and Harold evidently was not. Sigma cradled his first and only beer, not even a quarter empty, while Harold had already finished half of his second. For every story that Harold weaved with his words, Sigma did his best to reciprocate with a story of his own. When Harold talked about his studies, so too did Sigma. When Harold spoke about his travels, Sigma recounted the perilous journey he took to get to Oasis from the Lowlands, and his inability to pick up the local accent. When Harold said he first fell in love with Sigma less than a week after meeting him, Sigma shyly admitted that he loved him since the incident at the springs, but only acknowledged it after that moment they shared under the full moon.

They laughed and smiled, their worries and fears gone for this fragile moment of peace they shared together. Maybe the beer had intoxicated him and clouded his mind, or maybe he was drunk off Harold’s presence, but Sigma felt bold as he conspired ways to touch Harold. A hand on a shoulder. A thumb to wipe away the beer foam from plump, kissable lips. A teasing little nudge with his foot to Harold’s knee.

Harold chuckled coyly as Sigma's toes rested on his leg. “Bit forward, aren’t you?”

Sigma smirked as he pulled his toes up, trailing over Harold’s inner thigh. “By my calculations, if I stimulate this erogenous zone for approximately two minutes more, our trajectory will be towards the newest bedroom.”

Harold spluttered with a laugh. “OK, first of all, that’s a horrible pick-up line.”

“I am assuming there’s a ‘second of all’,” Sigma raised his eyebrows

“Second of all,” Harold grabbed Sigma’s foot under the table, massaging the sole lightly, “you are a jerk and you’ve severely underestimated how much I want to be alone with you.”

“We were alone on the cart for hours today. Unless you're worried the donkey was going to blab to its friends,” Sigma smirked.

Harold slapped him lightly on the arm. “Get a room already.”

“Alright, alright,” Sigma laughed.

The process of getting a room was rather simple. They paid the money for a single room and were given a sign to hang, a number that matched the number of their door. The bed was decent, and the view outside their room wasn't spectacular, but it was theirs for this brief night, and that was all they needed. They dropped their belongings carelessly on the floor and then collapsed onto the bed side by side. For a few minutes Sigma stared at the empty ceiling, trying and failing to glimpse into the future. The spirits were displeased with him, but even if they weren't, they couldn't see what his future held anyway. He was unbound from time, an array of infinite possibilities at his fingertips, extending far beyond like branches from a tree. And his tree would continue to grow for as long as he still lived.

He could ponder more on this question, but for once he didn’t want to think. He found Harold’s hand beside him and squeezed. Not a moment later, Harold shifted so he was lying on top of Sigma, placing a small kiss to his lips. This simple kiss escalated to something more as their mouths slid open and their tongues darted out, tasting the cooked meats from each other's mouths. Sigma gave, and Harold took, letting himself get washed away from this simple, worldly pleasure as Harold stole his breath away. By the time they finally separated, only minutes had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity. What Sigma wouldn't give to spend an eternity touching and kissing Harold.

Sigma ran his thumb over Harold's bruised lips, staring up at the most beautiful man in the world. A smile peeked out, and then Harold parted his lips slightly and took Sigma's thumb in, sucking lightly.

“Harold…” Sigma whispered.

The thumb slid out from Harold's mouth with a pop. “How far do you want to take this tonight? I’m up for anything and everything, if you’ll let me. We could sleep, we could kiss until morning light, or…” he leaned forward and kissed Sigma's neck, “we could do something more daring.”

“We'll do it all,” Sigma laughed. "One step at a time."

“Then what do you want to do first?” Harold asked.

“Kiss me,” Sigma sighed. "Please."

Harold grinned. “My pleasure.”

He took Sigma’s face in his hands, cradling his jaw tenderly before kissing him with unspeakable passion. First with their lips, and then with their tongues, swirling and exploring, drawing out as many groans and sighs as possible. Sigma leaned forward and slid his lips to Harold's jaw, then the shell of his ear, then the soft junction between Harold's neck and shoulder. He bit lightly until the skin was tinted pink, and Harold gasped lewdly. Sigma took mental notes of the places he kissed that drew the most vocal reaction from Harold, certain in the fact that he will need to use this in the very near future. Whatever the future held, he was going to make sure this was not their last time together in bed.

Sigma moved to take the belt off Harold’s robes, pausing for a sign that this was not wanted or that he was moving too fast. But Harold sighed happily, lifting his arms up high. With Sigma’s strong hands, he delicately pulled the robes off and away, exposing Harold’s naked body.

His lips trailed Harold’s collarbone reverently, sucking on the soft flesh lightly. “You’re so handsome,” Sigma hummed.

“You can’t see me,” Harold pointed out.

“Doesn’t that make it more special? That a blind man like me knows you’re handsome?”

Harold giggled bashfully. “Perhaps.” His fingers found the edge of Sigma’s own robes and pulled them up and over his head. Sigma gasped lightly, making Harold giggle again. “But I’m not the only gorgeous one here. I’ve got you, don’t I? And I get to have you all for myself.”

Harold’s lithe fingers felt his soft pecs, his toned stomach, traveling lower at a snail pace. Heat blossomed from his touch, making Sigma’s breathing quicken. Harold leaned forward for another greedy kiss with his greedy tongue while his hand brushed over the thick bush of hair near his groin, trailing down to the base of his throbbing cock. Sigma was quick to surrender as the now-familiar wave of love and lust overwhelmed his senses, moaning to the ceiling.

Harold let his other hand hover in the air as the strings between their bodies re-emerged. He began to tug on them lightly but Sigma enclosed his hand around Harold’s wrist, dispelling the spell.

“Siebren?” He whispered.

“No magic,” he said, just as quiet. “No spirits, no magic, and no strings of fate. Just you and me.”

Harold nodded slowly, and then he leaned backward for a second to take his glasses off. When he couldn’t find a place to deposit them, he slid them into Sigma’s face, earning a quiet chuckle from his lips. The glasses, as Sigma suspected, did nothing to help his eyesight. Sigma wrinkled his nose, the glasses tilting with his movement, earning another laugh.

“You done?” Sigma smiled.

“Any more requests before I not-so-magically find the lubricant, oh great Oracle?” Harold said in an exaggerated voice.

“Actually, there is…one thing,” Sigma glanced away. It was just a thought but…no, it might not work. It’s been too long. Why ruin what might be their last comfortable night like this with such an experiment?

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering if I could, um, be on the receiving end tonight.” He cleared his throat loudly. "Only if you'd want to, that is."

“O-oh. I guess that explains why you didn’t eat much dinner.” Harold frowned microscopically. “That takes something out of the books.”

“What is it?”

Harold opened his mouth, paused, then headed out of bed to a small trunk. Within it he got what appeared to be the jar of lube and something else that Sigma couldn’t describe. It looked long and thin and pale as the snow. What it was, however, Sigma could not tell.

By the time he returned to bed, Harold’s blush seemed to have multiplied. In his hands were the jar and the mysterious object. Noticing Sigma's curious gaze, he held the object close so Sigma could see.

Sigma's cheeks crimsoned. “R-rope, Harold?”

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to get tied up. I was going to ask if you could tie me up or something, but if you want to bottom for once, I understand this might be too much. We can do it some other time."

Before Harold might say more, Sigma cupped Harold’s face, interrupting him. “Harold, whatever you want to do, I’ll do it. I love you.” Softer, he added, “I trust you.”

“G-good,” Harold breathed. Despite his nervousness, there was no denying the excitement in his voice. He took his glasses off Sigma's face and slid them to the edge of the bed. “R-right. Well. I best get you prepared, shouldn't I? Sit up and turn around.”

Sigma did as Harold instructed. His wrists were pulled behind his back, the rope gliding over his skin. A well of fear and anticipation filled his chest. He’d never done this. Not the rope, not the bottoming, not running away to start a new life, not immortality. They were scary but they were also new, and they were luxuries he couldn’t afford to waste. If he shied away from scary, new things, he'd never be here in Harold's arms, with infinite power and life in his bloodstream. And after all, wasn't that the purpose of experimentation, to learn from these scary, new things? He could accept it easily enough if he just thought about it as an experiment.

Harold’s deft touch assuaged some of his fears, working steadily as he guided the rope over his arms and wrist. His fingers would often pause to rake down Sigma’s backside or reach lower to squeeze his ass, making Sigma shiver in delight. When Harold was done, he gently guided Sigma down onto the bed, his chest flat on the mattress and his ass held high. Sigma glanced over his shoulder to find Harold staring at the body, seemingly in a trance.

Sigma smiled shyly. "Earth to Harold."

"S-sorry, it's just...wow." Harold chuckled nervously. "I can't believe my luck that I have you like this. Can't believe I have you for all eternity."

"I'm not going to wait all eternity," Sigma said. "Could you please get on with it?"

"You're so impatient," Harold teased as he opened the jar and spread the glistening lube over his fingers. He leaned forward and pressed the tip of a finger into Sigma slowly. In an instant a cold shock zapped both Sigma's mind and body, making him shiver again. When Sigma recovered slightly, Harold began to slide his finger in and out, coating Sigma's ass with the slippery, wet lube.

"Harold…" Sigma gasped.

"I'll be slow," Harold said, voice laced with lust. "I want you to feel good."

"D-don't just say things like that," Sigma blushed. "You don't need to be slow for me. I can handle it." Maybe, he added but didn't say.

Harold chuckled lightly as he pressed a second finger in, pumping at a slightly faster pace. Sigma tugged at his restraints, his eyelids fluttering. This tight wetness was such a new but wonderful sensation and it was making him dizzy in ecstasy. Harold's magic was coursing through his touch, shooting up into Sigma's brain. Sigma was sure this magical bond between him was making him far more sensitive than he should be, and yet he didn't want to stop. He wanted more, more. As long as it was Harold he'd always want more.

A third finger went in, pumping a little bit faster. Harold's fingers curled up inside Sigma, and he swore he could see the stars as those fingers brushed against his prostate. Harold's other hand trailed down his back, round his hips to enclose around Sigma's leaking cock. A shameful moan dripped from his lips as Sigma rolled his hips against the palm of Harold's hand, his desperation growing. It felt like he would tear apart if he wasn't given what he craved, if he wasn't filled, if he wasn't stroked. He knew Harold felt this desperation, but he never imagined it would be this intense. Now, right now, he needed to be defiled now.

Sigma glanced over his shoulder, his entire body tinted rouge. "Harold, please."

"Already? But I haven't even got the fourth finger in." Harold said in an amused tone.

"Harold," Sigma said in a more commanding voice.

"Alright, alright," Harold giggled lightly as he took another coating of lube and slowly stroked his cock, slicking it. Sigma could feel Harold shift forward, his wet cock rocking against the cleft of his ass. He inhaled deeply as Harold's love flooded his mind, spiking in waves with every roll of his tantalising hips. He rolled his hips back to the same rhythm as Harold's hips, hoping to coax Harold to hurry up, to give him what he craved.

Harold's hands gripped onto his hips tightly, steadying him. Sigma's balled fists shook against his restraints in anticipation. Harold drew his cock back, letting the tip kiss against Sigma’s entrance.

"Ready?" Harold asked softly.

"Yes, please," Sigma whimpered. "Please. I want you now. I need you."

Harold sharply inhaled, dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Sigma’s ass, and then slowly pushed his cock in.

Sigma bit on his lip to stifle his moan, but it didn't work, a soft "ah!" escaping his lips. It felt so glorious and wet and warm. Harold filled him up so perfectly, sliding in and out of him languidly but fluidly, slow but powerful, as if Harold already knew exactly how he wanted to be fucked. Harold was moaning too, whispering soft little things that made Sigma’s skin prickle with need and desire. From their shared minds, Sigma could feel Harold’s magic stroke the corners with the same speed and rhythm as his hips, as if Sigma was being pleasured both physically and mentally.

Sigma could barely handle it. Being pleasured in two different ways simultaneously, everything felt much more intense. Everything felt so much better. “Mmm, Harold…”

"You're handling it so good. And it's your first time too." His hot breath tickled Sigma's ear. "Maybe you can handle a little bit more." Harold snapped his hips, driving his cock harder into Sigma. He groaned lewdly, knowing all too well he was completely and utterly at Harold's mercy.

He wanted to ask how Harold knew this was his first time when suddenly Harold shifted the angle of his cock, making him moan deeply. Harold's magic had seeped into his mind, making his brain spark and flicker with the light of a thousand fireworks. Sigma's fists shook, trying and failing to break free from the restraints.

"Ah ah ah," Harold teased, not slowing his brutal pace down a single bit. "Not yet, Siebren. Not yet."

"Harold, please, ahhh." Without his sense of sight, his other senses were already heightened, but with the additional loss of his sense of touch, it felt like his remaining senses were working on overdrive. The scent of Harold's sweat was driving him wild. The sight of his cock gushing down onto the bed was undeniably arousing. The sound of Harold's strangled moans of pleasure as his hips crashed into Sigma's ass was the most beautiful chorus. His body was so sensitive to every little touch. If Harold just hit his prostate a bit more, if he just angled his cock at the perfect spot, Sigma might unravel completely.

"You're doing so well. You can take it so well," Harold whispered. "You let me know if it's too much."

"It's not enough, I need more. I want more. Please."

Sigma heard Harold chuckle lightly as he slid his cock out. Before Sigma could react, Harold's hands gripped tightly onto his waist, turning him around and sitting him on his lap. It took a second for Sigma to figure out what had happened. He rocked his hips slowly, sliding his ass against Harold's cock.

Harold placed a tender kiss to the lobe of Sigma's ear. "Is this good enough for you, Siebren?" He whispered.

Sigma leaned forward and kissed Harold eagerly as he felt Harold line himself up. He opened his eyes for a second and stared into the dark void that was Harold's eyes, waiting for the light, the signal, the go ahead. Harold's eyes shimmered for a second as he let out a quiet, pleading sigh. Sigma smiled softly as he descended, filling himself with Harold's cock once more. Harold wrapped his arms around Sigma's chest, moaning.

"Gosh, Siebren, yes. Yes, yes."

Sigma slid up and down at a brutal pace, giving the both of them little to no build-up. Not that either of them wanted or needed it. Harold's mind was screaming for more, and Sigma was sure his mind was screaming the same thing. He adjusted himself, angling his body until he felt the head of Harold's cock hit his prostate. It felt incredible, addictive, amazing. He had to hit it again and again and again, milking that indescribable pleasure for all it was worth. Just a bit more. He was so close, so madly close.

He angled his descent badly and Harold's cock slipped out of his ass. They groaned loudly.

"Siebren," Harold warned.

"S-sorry. I've never done this before," Sigma blushed.

"I know, but you don't need to rush it," Harold smiled softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sigma let out a quiet chuckle as he descended slowly until his ass was touching Harold's thighs. He bit down lightly on his lip, suppressing a moan. "We are not going anywhere."

Harold grinned brightly as his fingers traced the rope bindings. With a sharp tug, the rope came loose and Sigma's hands came free.

“H-Harold?”

“Bondage doesn’t suit you. I know you want to touch me.” Harold pressed a chaste kiss to Sigma’s cheek. “Let me be at your mercy this time.”

With his arms free he could do whatever he liked. Push Harold down and take him from the top, touch him in all his sensitive places until he came, torture him with his caresses. He could do almost anything and Harold would eagerly go along with Sigma's whims, but Sigma had a different plan in mind. He let his hands settle on either side of Harold's jaw, cupping it as though he was holding the world in his hands. In a sense, he was. Harold was his world, and he would always find his way to him. He closed his eyes, imagining Harold and all the things he had done for Sigma. There were almost too many to count. Harold had been so good to him since the very beginning.

Tears began to bead at Harold's eyes, which he hastily wiped away. "Y-you know I can read your thoughts, right?"

"I know," Sigma hummed. He kissed Harold on the lips, on the cheek. His hips slowly began to move again, almost lethargically, sensually, just enough to keep them on the edge.

Harold huffed. "You really are a jerk." But he was smiling while he said it, gripping Sigma's shoulders tightly when their hips pressed together. His thoughts were all focused on Sigma, and his love and adoration for him. From his intellect to his wisdom to his weird little jokes, Harold transmitted it all back to Sigma.

Sigma chuckled bashfully as he pressed another long kiss to Harold's open mouth. He imagined all the wonderful things about Harold—his beautiful voice, his constant optimism, and open mind— and watched as Harold’s face broke out into a breathtaking smile.

"I love you, Siebren," Harold said quietly.

"I love you too, Harold. Till the end of time,” Sigma whispered.

Harold kissed Sigma's lips softly. "Till the end of time."

The heat of their orgasm ebbed and flowed as Sigma slowly rode Harold. When it did came, it trickled up their bodies, less an explosion and more of a wave flooding over them. They kissed through this indescribable bliss, and when they were spent, they kissed some more, collapsing back into the bed in each other's arms. They did not speak, just let their slowing thoughts do the speaking for them, telling their life stories and their greatest triumphs and greatest fears for them. What their thoughts couldn't speak, their wandering fingers did, breathing new life into their every touch, expressing countless untold stories.

With a wave of his hands, Sigma summoned two cloths to wipe them both clean. Harold initially relaxed into it, until Sigma plucked the invisible strings between their obdies. Harold let out a surprised gasp as he felt something warm and wet and invisible enter his hole.

He looked down at Sigma, his expression quickly turning lustful. “I thought you said no magic tonight.”

“That was when I thought I only had the energy for one time.” Sigma tugged at the strings, making the invisible lubed-up finger press deeper into Harold. “I might have the energy reserve for at least one more go.”

Harold grinned mischievously. “At least?”

“I paid good money for this room, and I plan to maximize my usage of it.” He reversed their positions, pressing Harold back into the covers. He smiled indulgently. “I hypothesise that I can get you hard again without even touching you.”

“That’s some hypothesis,” Harold breathed. “Do you have the evidence to back up that theory?”

Sigma smirked. "I've got just the experiment in mind."

That night, Sigma fucked Harold himself, becoming one in both mind and body. By the end of it they were sweaty, sticky, and very much dehydrated, and absolutely and hopelessly in love with each other. When they both finally fell asleep in their arms, there was nothing they didn't know about the other. They slept peacefully that night, the marks on their palms glowing, perfectly content just to have each other, for now until eternity. They will find each other. That, they promised one another.

—

In the morning, they ate the breakfast the inn provided. They were downstairs, dressed in more unassuming clothes. Despite Sigma's best efforts, he couldn't stop grinning. It was a honeymoon phase of sorts, because they had already pledged to stay with each other for as long as time would let them, but that was all they had figured out in terms of their plans. Where they go from here, what they do, it was all up in the air. Anything and everything was possible. They had almost nothing to hold them back.

"We could head to the Safavid Empire in the West," Sigma suggested. "Ardabil is not unlike Oasis. Considering all the different dignitaries that visit there, we would not look out of place."

But Harold shook his head. "What business would we have in Ardabil? The Dutch East India Company own all the major trade routes so there's not too much business there. They're also not too keen on foreigners at the moment, especially English speaking foreigners."

"I know languages other than English and Dutch."

"So do I, but English seems to be the one we're best able to communicate in. I wouldn't take my chances," Harold said. "Why not Georgia instead?"

"Not Georgia. I'm not wanted in those lands."

"Why would they not want you there?" Harold asked.

"The Tobelsteins wielded far more power than I expected," Sigma frowned. "They messed with the fabric between reality and the spirit world far too much and I objected. I wouldn't be surprised if they end up floating into the heavens for their hubris like I did when I was a young, stupid fool."

"Don't put yourself down, Siebren. You shouldn't be ashamed of your powers.” Harold sighed. “So not Georgia then. Somewhere else. But where?"

As they began to rack their heads for ideas, two men stumbled through the entrance and plopped themselves down near the bar. One was tall and thin, with odd machinery on their right arm and leg. The other was fat and menacing, a mask hiding away their features. Their skin was pale as snow. They were definitely not from this land. The thin man ordered a beer, while the fat man ordered water.

If their appearance was hard to ignore, the thin man's outbursts were impossible.

"Can't believe th' Overwatch Guild is a thing. Always thought it was some legend going round those parts. Here, Roadie. You hear about it?" The man said in accented, but fluent English. It was definitely his first language.

"I was there with you," the man known as Roadie huffed.

"I mean, I know I'm supposed to be the comic relief, but how is a bloke to believe that an enchanted gorilla's its new leader? And don't get me started with the automaton, mate. In our lovely lil' collisseum we had a glorious champion, and then it just buggers off to the middle of nowhere, Gibraltar?"

"The queen wants us to get 'em back," Roadie gruffly replied.

"Assuming some mage's piloting it, and not like…I dunno, a hamster. That'd be a real kick , wouldn't it? A hamster rolling a ball automaton? But what kinda hamster would have that much smarts and magic? Not any that I know."

The man known as Roadie turned his head toward Harold and Sigma. Even behind his mask, they could feel his deathly glare. "Junkrat, shut up."

"Hey, don't interrupt me, I—oh." Roadie forced Junkrat to turn his head.

The two strangers stared at Sigma and Harold for several seconds, as if gauging them. Then, after a minute of uncomfortable silence, Junkrat rolled his eyes and nursed his beer.

"Don't bother, Roadie. They're just wizards." The man known as Junkrat spat out the word like it was poison.

"Least they don't have golems."

Sigma could've picked a fight, or perhaps even correct the two men on their technically incorrect use of the word 'wizard', but he didn't. Instead, he stared at Harold. They shared the same knowing look in their eyes, their faces lighting up. A path had been unveiled to them, glorious and brilliant and full of potential. It was almost as if it was fate guiding them along.

"Winston?" Sigma asked, and Harold nodded eagerly.

“And Hammond.” The descriptions matched. There were no other super-intelligent gorillas and hamsters that they knew of. It had to be them. Winston and Hammond had to be alive, and members of this Overwatch guild.

“You’re aware of what the Overwatch guild is?” Sigma asked, even though he knew Harold would know by now. They shared all their memories, their feelings, and their knowledge. They had nothing left to hide anymore.

“A ragtag bunch of adventurers bent on saving the world, one magical disaster at a time.” Harold stuck out his hand. “What do you say, Siebren? Ever wanted to join a guild?"

"I've joined enough guilds in my day, thank you very much." Sigma's lips curled up into a grin as he took Harold's hand. "Although I must say, I'm awfully curious as to how you've enchanted a gorilla and a hamster with the gift of intelligence. You know I’m up for another experiment.”

Harold grinned. "An adventure, you and me.”

"Oi, I heard that. You two!" The man known as Junkrat suddenly stood up, his expression becoming dangerous very quickly. He muttered something to Roadie, who took out an enchanted hook.

"But first, maybe we should get out of here?" Harold smiled nervously.

"We should probably do that," Sigma said.

With the wave of his hand, Sigma summoned the barrier as they raced out of the inn and ran toward the sunrise together, a world of untold possibility and struggle and wonder all ahead of them, just beyond their fingertips.

#Sigrold #Sigma #Siebren de Kuiper #Harold Winston #End of an era and end of an AU #I had fun writing this #Who knows I might explore another AU or another smutty situation in the near future #Until then if you guys could support me it'd really help me out #Times have been tough for a lot of people myself included #If you like these fics I'd appreciate any and all support financial or otherwise

[positivelyamazonian]

Hi!!! Idk who Bathsheba is but your fanart of her is absolutely gorgeous! (Ik that some of them aren’t ur art but it’s still consider urs.)

Actually no fanart made for my fanfics is mine. I know how to write, but not how to draw. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with the friendship of many amazing, talented people who have been kind enough to read my fics in the past and decided to gift me some art made by them, based both in my OCs or other TR characters.

Since you asked, I want to mention them again to tribute their love, friendship and dedication to my fics. None of this works were commissioned - not because I won’t pay for their talent, which I’m doing anyway in other aspects (Patreon, Redbubble), - but because it’s my moral guideline not to tell artists to draw something for me. I feel happy enough to see they draw and keep their talent alive. So, all of this pieces were given out of their good heart and free will. I’m gonna just mention and show some artwork.

1. @hydraballista

Powerful, passionate, this artist who is well formed in comic style drawing and digital design has gifted me many drawings, scenes and sketches devoted to my fics and my OCs. She has done some wonderful works, indeed, but I want to remark the digital covers made for the Spanish versions of The Golden Seal and Lilith’s Scepter, my first two TRAOD sequels, a wonderful design out of her brilliant and creative mind. Not only that, she’s been kind and generous to gift me two copies of my own fics in this design and the original of Lara kissing Kurtis at the end of the first sequel, among other little scraps and sketches.

It is well to highlight her rough and strong Lara and his cheerful and carefree Kurtis, liberated from all grief, she loves to draw, far from any sexualization or shallowness. It is good to mention she’s right now working in her own comic project of Bloodline, which was meant to be Kurti’s first spin-off game.

2. @adayka

Sometimes sweet, sometimes powerful, sometimes dramatic, sometimes funny as hell, Jasmine, to whom belongs the Batsheba you’ve seen and has generated this ask, is one of the most recent blessings to my fanfics. Her drawing and colouring talent has really no limits. Despite she has a very defined style for her faces, she’s able to draw a wide range of expressions and situations always managing to touch your heart. There not a thing she can’t draw, and she’s been the most prolific in drawing for my fics.

Not only prolific, but also kind and generous: she’s been amazingly altruist to gift me practically all the originals she has drawn for them, including an amazing, craft handed Kurtis’ journal taken from the lore of my fics - Kurtis having a sketchbook to practice drawing; and this far before that we knew Murti Schofield has plannes a similar reward for the @trdarkangel project. Inspired, also, in Werner’s diary in TRAOD, of course.

3. Carola Funder

Used to be a very appreciated TR fan artist, though now it’s been a while she has moved on to other projects, she drew some scenes for The Golden Seal out of her good will, which I’m still very grateful for. 

Her strong, well built - even buffed - athletic figures are very remarkable of her style. She has drawn some of the best classic/TRAOD Laras AND Kurtis that I can remind. All in traditional style.

4. @angel-in-shadow

Recently arrived to the current fandom, she’s a digital artist who has done many fresh, new renders using the actual models taken from the game, for which I’m grateful since I don’t like renders using “realistic” new models, or models for other games (specially LAU trilogy and reboot, ugh).

She has done covers and renders for The Golden Seal and Lilith’s Scepter, too, and some scenes for the first one. She’s also a fanfic author and is currently working on renders for her fic, The New Order.

5. @anentireamazon

- Anna, one of my latest OCs, from the fic The Awakening. Surely she reminds you of someone in particular, but with a slight change… :)

Currently developing her own style, my sister Elena works on digital art with her tablet out of her own motivation, that means, she’s autodidact. She has made many drawings for my fics and will probably kill me for sharing this one but here goes anyway.

Not many have dared yet with my Anna, so, this is a must.

6. Kyu Chan

Speaking of people who has dared with Anna… here comes Ariadna, Spanish reader and friend who has made some artworks for my recent fanfics Mr Vance Renner and The Legacy, the one still on updates. She also uses tablet and she’s one of the scarce, scarce Spanish readers left.

I’ll have to stop here so the post doesn’t go too far and it’s too long. Of course, many other artists (***) have worked on my fics in the past - I’m so lucky! - but I’ve mentioned them in past asks and if I recall correctly, those posts stop where this one starts. So I hope this one was useful and entertaining to you.

*** My love and tribute also to Kaworu, Damian, Mystique, Scheroff and @anyathebloodshell (*) for your contributions ***

Please, consider following these artists and giving them your best - likes and reblogs - for each one deserves love and have more and amazing works apart from the ones they did for my fics. And of course, if you once feel like reading my fics which are linked in this post, I’ll be immensely grateful myself, too.

As I said at the beginning, I don’t reclaim ownership on this works, they are theirs, not mine. But they were gifts and no gift shall be returned, right? ;) Thanks for the ask!

#AAAAAND if you want to know who Bathsheba is #meet her at Lilith's Scepter and The Legacy ;D #my answers #my artists #fan art for my fanfic #my ocs #tomb raider #lara croft #fanfiction #traod sequel #the golden seal #lilith's scepter #the awakening #mr vance renner #the legacy #awesome fan art #hydraballista #adayka #carola funder #an entire amazon #angel-in-shadow #kyu chan #kaworu #damian #mystique #scheroff #anyatheblookshell #my little piece of heaven

[kinsbin]

Beach Days

Title: Beach Days Word Count: 2010 Pairing: Alexys/Katriona [si/oc]

Summary: Kat loved the beach, and Alexys loved Kat. Naturally, one has to learn to love the water when they’re dating a Selkie. Still, Alexys could feel doubt creeping in her mind, but Kat knows just how to get rid of it

A/N: Commission for @space-sweetheart of her and one of my fave ocs, Kat! These two are so cute and i’m so happy they have one another ;w;

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Alexys was never quite sure about going to the ocean.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like the ocean, oh no the opposite really! The ocean and the beaches around it were, in themselves, something of true beauty. Something that held her gaze into their fierce horizon lines and made her heart jump with awe at the way the light glimmered off of the reflective surface like the facade of a well cut sapphire. The sunsets, especially, were always so beautiful off the coasts around her. They painted the skies all shades of pinks and oranges before fading into deep, purple blue hues that looked like an oil on canvas rather than the atmosphere lighting up with the rotation of the land. For a long time, she considered the concept that the mythos of monstrous wolves chasing one another around the world, pursuing each other in the name of night and day, might be true. It would explain the deep unreality that was always felt at the start of a beautiful sunset.

It was those things she loved about the ocean.

What Alexys didn’t quite LIKE about the ocean was the heat. The temperatures that clawed on her skin against the windy summer day, biting like mosquitos in her veins. She didn’t like the way the sand meandered its way nosily into the grooves of her toes to the point in which her flip flops couldn’t even protect her. Instead they sunk down into the uneven earth, the gravity more akin to the surface of the moon as the light breeze blew bits of grainy earth that spat unflatteringly on her ankles. It was the discomforts that made the beach so hard to go to constantly. So hard to maintain a stready relationship with its pulling oceans and unknown depths of beauty.

Most of all she disliked wearing swimsuits.

Her body had never been ‘nice’ to her. Indeed it was more of a stubborn acceptance that it was simply the skin she inhabited. The mortal coil of her form that bound her to the physical plains of the earth around her that she was forced to stay in for at least seventy more years if she was lucky. That was what a body was to Alexys. No one ever said she had to like it, so she mostly did not. Everything felt too tall on her. Too lanky or too chubby in places models were not. Even the once piece bathing suit she was wearing, a brilliant shade of blue with freckles of white that looked like stars across her body, did little to sooth the worry of her body’s shape in her mind. The large hoodie she wore over most of the fabric protected her from both the wind and the prying eyes of no one as she looked around the empty space of beach.

Well, almost no one. A pair of green eyes that had lingered on her the entire walk from their shared Seattle apartment to the bayside they lived so close to. They shone like emeralds in the wake of the water as they followed at her side, pinky fingers gently entwined together in the loose form of hand holding that they managed as they walked casually across the shoreline. She remembered, then, why she even bothered to do this. Why she even ever considered coming to the beach more than once a year out of some sort of party and social obligation that would drag her from her home:

Because Katriona loved the ocean.

It was her instinct as a Selkie, Alexys supposed, that drew her endlessly to the water. She would be a fool to deny her girlfriend her nature, for it was what she had always fallen in love with. Kat’s excited smile, buck toothed and sharp, excited her whenever she stared on at the ocean as she was now. Her mess of long, curly brown hair covered her face in the perfect set of angles. It framed her like a cloud of copper. An angeled head of brilliant metal cascading down her sun kissed skin as she moved ahead of Alexys out of instinctual obligation. The seal skin she wore tight around her waist, like a sort of flowing skirt, fluttered eagerly behind her as she moved her legs to run towards the water. To touch the very surface that she had been born into all of her life. To become one with nature in a way Alexys could never truly understand.

Kat stopped as she got to the edge of the water, brushing some of her blowing hair back before turning around to face Alexys and, oh god, her heart stopped at the sight.

The sun sparkled so perfectly off of Kat’s body, her entire frame angled with a golden glow that emphasized the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled. Her eyes, burning emeralds amongst her body, shone with a type of love that Alexys could still scarcely believe was meant for her and her alone. Even the sharp, seal like quality of her ragged teeth only served to emphasize the feral beauty that surrounded the ethereal form of her girlfriend as she stood just before the water’s edge, the waves lapping lightly at her bare feet (she never wore shoes unless necessary. Alexys had watched her family try to put them on her only once for a formal event and even then it went poorly) as she shifted slightly to face Alexys fully.

Her hand fell out, fingers extending in a reach for her own as she tilted her head.

“Well, silly fish,” Kat teased in that sweet Scottish lilt that Alexys loved so much, “Are ya’ comin in with me or whut?”

Alexys couldn’t help but smile in return. She couldn’t help but hesitantly reach out to Kat’s hand for a moment, only to pull back and look down at her own body with a frown of thought. Kat looked gorgeous in her swimsuit of greens and greys. Not that it would last for very long, considering Kat would sooner swim naked than dare wear anything in the ocean, but the comparison was still striking. She felt so small in comparison to the presence of the other. So light in a way that half convinced her that maybe she should not have come.

Kat’s hand suddenly touched her cheek, startling Alexys out of her thoughtful reverie.

When she looked up, Kat’s face was close to hers. Her eyebrows were knit together in a gaze of soft care. Of endearment as she searched Alexys’ face for something that she wasn’t sure she would fine. Grey eyes watched green ones and Alexys bit a smile back at the fact that Kat was, literally, on the tips of her toes to reach as close as she was to her. Half of her wanted to stoop down to help the other each her better, but she knew it would just make Kat huffy. So she stayed still as she spoke, thumb rubbing circles on Alexys’ cheek as she sighed through her arched brow and patient smile.

“Oh, I know that look on you, m'eudail.” She hummed as her gaelic slipped lovingly from her tongue, “Now what part of ya do I have to kiss to make it go away~?”

The joke made Alexys snort, her smile spreading on her lips as she tried to breathe through her giggling to no avail. The laughter made Kat’s own echo of amusement chortle from her throat, her smile wide and bright as she giggled in return and pressed her forehead to Alexy’s shoulder, hiding her smiling face into the other’s flesh as they laughed in unison over the roar of the ocean.

It was these silly moments Alexys cherished. These moments that let her laugh and smile as she spent the day with the woman she loved the most. It made her forget about the insecurities that had plagued her not moments before. Katriona pushed those insecurities away like a gust of wind moving clouds. Like the sun’s bright rays burning into the earth and revealing itself to be sunny and beautiful against the once existing fog. That was, in essence, what she was. What she always would be to Alexys in one way or another.

Alexys gasped and shuddered when she felt Kat’s lips on her shoulder, a gentle kiss placed to the bare skin to inspire confidence before the shorter girl pulled away with a quirk of her lips and a blush on her tanned cheeks that made them look so much more full and pinchable that Alexys couldn’t help reach up and squeeze one of them. Kat crooned much like a seal would, surprise filling her tone as she blushed harder and reached out to bat playfully at the hand grabbing her face.

“Ya cheeky-!” Kat laughed as she walked forward, pulling at Alexy’s hand in process, leading her slowly towards the water again.

Alexys, confident now with their interaction, shed her sweater carefully until she was simply in her bathing suit. The water hit her feet, cold and icy in its wake, and goosebumps danced along her bare skin. They plunged deeper and deeper still, the feeling of the waves tickling her ankles and then her knees helping her to register just where they were in the water. Kat smiled as she continued to walk backwards, paying no mind to the water and waves behind her as she focused on her lover. Kat, after all, knew the water better than anyone Alexys had known.

Soon they were waist deep and Kat had let go, her instincts in the water overpowering her beyond the point of remembering to control her urges. With one last bright, toothy smile she dove into the water, submerging herself fully in the salty ocean waves that came crashing around them. Alexys gasped as she waited patiently for her lover to come up, giggling as the spray of the ocean surrounded her and bit into her skin like kisses from nature itself. She was aware how long Kat could hold her breath, much like a true seal was able to. When she had first disappeared for over 15 minutes, Alexys nearly had a panick attack thinking she had drowned. She had come up, though, as she always did.

Sure enough after a few more moments the surface was broken to reveal a blur of seal-skin and messy hair that tackled into her. The force of Kat’s entire being upon her in the water made her lose her footing, and Alexys took one last surprised gulp of air before being pushed into the water with her lover.

Beneath the ocean was surprisingly warm. The initial shock of the water had faded and now it was a clear, crystalline sort of experience. Dots of sunlight filtered through the water’s surface, decorating both girls in its speckled glory. Kat smiled under the water, her cheeks bright and her body easygoing. The way her hair floated around her made her look nearly ethereal. Alexys understood the myths of sirens now, so beautiful that they lured men to their deaths with just their looks and voices alone.

As Kat smiled, she smiled back.

Kat swam forward to take Alexys into her arms, their hands entwining as they held one another as a sort of crutch against the ocean waves. So that they might not float far away from one another. It didn’t matter much how far they were in the water, honestly. Kat would take them back to home as she always seemed to do. For once, Alexys felt no anxiety about being where she was. Being who she was. In that moment it was all she wanted to be.

Especially as Kat leaned forward, her lips finding the others in a careful deep sea kiss. Alexys couldn’t taste much above the salt of the ocean but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the girl in front of her who held her so close and so lovingly that she felt she might explode with care. Might fall apart with love.

In that moment, it was perfect.

#self insert #self ship #oc self ship #kinley writes #self insert commission #writing commission

[lils-writes]

Heart Spotted Ladybugs

Hi! So this is the first time I’m posting something I write, so I hope everyone likes it! It’s an Adrinette reverse crush fic, since I’m a sucker for all that’s reverse crush aus! Also, I wrote Marinette as a brunette, instead of with black or blue hair. Just a heads up.

Feel free to leave a comment :) Thank you and enjoy!

2.4k words

It was a distracting sight. Then again, she was always a distracting sight to him. But she was particularly distracting today, under the afternoon sun, wearing a yellow floral sundress that didn't leave much to the imagination. Not that it was improper or anything! It actually covered her body wonderfully! But it hugged her curves the way a dress should hug a girl's cures, enhancing her beauty more than it probably should. Adrien couldn't help but stare. Anyone would stare if a goddess stood there, in front of them, glowing in sheer beauty.

“Dude, you're staring again.

-But she's so gorgeous…

-I know Alya is a catch.

-I'm talking about Marinette.”

Nino chuckled at the defensiveness of his friend. What was the point of being friend with someone if you can't tease them? And anyways, it was revenge for distractedly almost stepping on his music sheets. But when a man is in love, you can't a snap him out of it.

“You have got it bad, mon ami.

-What?

-Lovebug bit hard, I see.

-What are you talking about?

-Just go talk to her man!”

It wasn't like Adrien to get nervous. Hell! The last time he remembers ever getting nervous, he was 5 and going on on a stage without his parents for the first time. And now that he thinks of it, he wouldn't be able to tell why he was nervous, since he had no lines and played the role of a rock by the river. It was a really stupid play. But for the first time in over 10 years, he felt nervous. Just the thought of talking to the godly beauty made his palms all sweaty and his heart beat faster. He could do that, right? Just converse, like a normal person. Easy. Except he wasn't a normal person. He was a disaster person. And if he had to talk to her, he'd make a fool out of himself and she'd see him as a joke and he'd be depressed for the rest of his life because he was a joke. No point denying it. He was a joke in this world and nothing could change that. End of the story: he was not going to talk to her.

“There is no way I’m going anywhere near her!

-Well, then have fun standing here all alone. I have to talk to Alya anyways.”

Before Adrien could put in another word, Nino walked away, slowly approaching the two girls. They were giggling together, Marinette looking prettier than ever. And for some reason, Adrien’s legs were bringing him closer to his friends, even if he said he wouldn’t. Curse his growing desire to be near the brunette.

Nino was already chatting away with the girls when Adrien found the courage to really get near. Marinette was still glowing, her hand trying to hide her pretty smile as she laughed. And damn was it mesmerizing. But he had to stop. Adrien had to stop! He was a boy hopelessly in love, but he had to calm himself down. It wasn't like he had never been near her. He could act normal. Just be cool.

“Anyways, not to be rude, but I have to borrow Alya for a bit, if you don't mind. School is still a thing, even if it is almost done.

-Right, we have a project to finish for tomorrow. We’ll hang out later, alright Mari?”

The brunette nodded and waved as Alya and Nino walked away. Wait. Nino and Alya were walking away. That meant that- oh crap. Adrien was left alone with Marinette. Oh no. He was going to die now, isn’t he? He could feel his face heat up as the girl’s blue eyes found themselves on him. His palms got sweated again as her lips formed a small smile. What wouldn't he do to get a chance to kiss them. No! Bad!

“Well, I’m guessing you also have work to do. Especially with your dad’s fashion show next week. I’ll let you go back home and rest and do homework. Call me if you need help with anything! I’ll just be working on a few commissions I got.”

And just like that, her smile was gone as her heels turned, exposing her bare back. Her skin seemed so silky soft and… Adrien, snap out of it! She was just a friend. That's all. She couldn't be anything more than that!

“Unless you’d like to hang out?”

Adrien was 16. He was a 16 year old boy. And his voice was deepening. It really was! But puberty betrayed him in that moment and he squeaked a yes to Marinette’s offer. And she probably thought he was stupid as she giggled at the answer. Of course she thought he was ridiculous! He was a nervous wreck and squeaked at her! How stupid sounding could he get? He was doomed with bad luck, wasn't he?

“Well, we could go to the parc, but given your allergy to feathers, I doubt you want to go to a pigeon infested parc. Would you prefer going back to my place? I know you love my papa’s croissants.”

She was smiling so softly at him, he could feel his heartbeat doubling in speed. Ok, all he had to do was agree. Her big aqua blue eyes were waiting for his answer. Deep breath…

“Yeah, sure, that sounds like an awesome plan.”

Jackpot! He said something normal! If he could keep this up, things would go smoothly. And now that he had done it once, he could keep the flow going.

The Dupain-Cheng bakery was thankfully only a few blocks away. The two conversed properly, with no awkwardness, until they were spotted by a couple of girls who just had to get a picture with Adrien. Politely, Adrien took the selfie, faking a smile. But the fake smile became genuine when he noticed Marinette chuckling at the fangirls. Man was she a cutie.

As soon as that was over, the pair headed into the bakery before anyone else could ask for an autograph or a selfie. As much as Adrien loved being famous and bringing a smile on the face of his fans, he sometimes really wished he were a normal kid. Maybe then would he be able to just accept that he had a massive crush on Marinette and find the courage to ask her out? But with his current life, he refused to do so. He couldn't impose this kind of life on Marinette. If ever she did feel the same way about him…

“Hi papa! I hope you don't mind that I invited Adrien over! It’s just that Alya and Nino are working on a school project together, which left Adrien and I alone. So I told myself that we could keep each other company, since I know how boring it could get to be all by yourself. And at the Agreste, it’s not even like here where there’s the bakery that could keep me busy. Also, his father is less loving than you and maman.”

That last sentence was almost a whisper between the father and daughter. Adrien knew that it was true, but it still stung. His father was sort of a cold man, but he still loved his son. He was just still grieving the loss of his wife. That was all. That's why he was distant. It was normal. Soon, he’d be back to being a somewhat affectionate man, showing love to his only son.

“Of course, ma chérie! You can bring friends over whenever you want! Just no funny business.

-Papa!”

The brunette blushed at the remark of her father. Tom simply laughed at the colored cheeks of his daughter. The man handed the boy a plate of warm croissants and waved the two off. Marinette stomped up the stairs, visibly pouting. Even when mad she was beautiful. But maybe instead of staring at her, Adrien should look where he was putting his feet, as he almost fell, missing a step on his way up to Marinette’s room.

“I’m ok! I’m ok! Don’t worry! The croissants are also alright!”

Perhaps shouting was not the best idea. Maybe it made him sound stupid. But then again, he always looked foolish around Marinette. And as always, she chuckled, helping him by taking the plate away from him. That was a good idea. That way, he wouldn't be able to drop the food that way.

It had been awhile Adrien hadn't been in the girl’s room. And it was the first time he was there without Nino or Alya or anything kind of school project. Now, he really got the chance to look around. The walls were painted a nice shade of pink, not too overwhelming, but were mostly covered with sketches and notes. He never noticed until now that her bed was nowhere in sight, being over their heads. It was a cozy room and an efficient little work area. It was cute, like Marinette. Her personality was really reflected into the decoration.

“Sorry for the mess. I wasn't expecting any guest. Well, make yourself comfortable. I’ll just clean a little, if you don't mind. Honestly, I'm a little embarrassed by the mess.

-It’s fine! And I can help, if you want!

-You want… to help me clean?

-I mean, at my house, I have a maid to do that. I don't have time to clean my room.

-Lucky.

-I think I rather do it myself. I always lose stuff when she cleans. So please let me help?”

Marinette finally gave in. Adrien grinned, picking up fabric from the ground. Maybe it could be a way of feeling like a normal kid. And at the same time, it made the princess smile which was everything he could hope for. Her smile was the most beautiful thing in the world and he would go to the moon and back if it would ensure her smile.

Minutes passed in silence. Marinette went back and forth, trying her best to pick up as much as she could in the smallest amount of time possible. Adrien, however, was taking his time. He inspected every piece of stray fabric he found, wondering what Marinette made out it. From the scraps, it was hard to tell. He knew that their classmates enjoyed her designs and often commissioned her to make pieces of clothing or costumes, but he never thought about the amount of time and attention she actually put into her creations. And honestly, he found it silly, since he knew very well how time consuming the process of creation was, his father being a renowned fashion designer and all. Adrien Agreste was the heir to a fashion empire and never did he think of how time consuming it was to create sketches and the actual project. Actually, Adrien never tried to sketch or build clothing in his life. He only modeled. And here was his crush, doing everything he should be learning to do. Man was he fool.

“How are you holding up, Adrien?

-Just fine! I was looking at the fabric, that's all.”

Automatically, he held up the piece of fabric he had in his hand. He didn't think much of it until he saw Marinette’s crimson face. The fabric itself wasn't weird. It was a red silk. But for some reason, the brunette snatched it out of his hands and stuffed it into her pocket, her blush not calming itself.

“You ok, Marinette?

-Just fine! I think the room is clean enough. How about we play something? A racing game?

-What was that fabric?

-Just scraps, nothing.

-Can I see it?

-No?”

Adrien insisted, now genuinely curious about what she was hiding. But Marinette was stubborn, so it wasn't easy to persuade her to show him. Thankfully, after a lot of insisting, Adrien finally managed to get a crack at Marinette who defeatedly pulled out the silk. Her face match the fabric’s color.

“I made myself pajamas out of it, but it’s pretty childish.”

The fabric in question was red, like Adrien had seen before, but it was speckled with ladybug designs. And not just any kind of ladybug! No no, the ladybugs in questions were spotted with hearts. The design was adorable, and just the thought of Marinette wearing such a cute fabric made Adrien’s mind go crazy.

“Please don't laugh!

-Can I commission you?

-What?

-Can you make me something? Of course, I'll pay you and all!

-You want me to make you something?

-Yes please!”

Both were surprised by the request. Marinette, since she never expected to be commissioned by someone whose father is literally a fashion god, and Adrien, since he had no idea what he was doing. It was a shock to both. But Adrien got this far, he was not ready to back out any time soon.

“Yeah, I was hoping you could make me a set of pyjamas with this fabric.”

And with a sheepish smile, he held up the piece of heart spotted ladybug fabric. Marinette stared at him for a moment, unsure what to respond. But that was ok, since Adrien wasn't done.

“You see, I don't find it childish at all. I actually love this fabric and would love to have a pair of pyjamas made of them. So if you’re willing, I’d love for you to make them for me. And I don't expect any kind of friend discount. I expect the full price for this piece.”

Marinette was still quiet. Did he break her? Oh god, please! He couldn't have broken the one person he really liked! And, and- and she was laughing. Oh. She was laughing. She was laughing! And smiling! And nodding! She was agreeing to make him his request! Oh goodness! She was willing to make him the pyjamas!

“Alright Adrien. But on one condition: next time we have a pyjama party, you have to wear them. We can be matching!”

Adrien grinned at the idea. It was a wonderful idea, really, so he agreed full heartedly. He could be matching to the love of his life. And he could see her smile and laugh, and that was all he really wanted in life. As long as she was happy, he was happy.

“Deal, Marinette.”

#marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain-cheng #marinette cheng #adrien agreste #adrinette #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #tom dupain #gabriel agreste #emilie agreste #mentioned #miraculous #ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #mlb #chat noir #cat noir #ladybug #reverse crush au #lils writes

[haveclotheswilltravel]

ModCloth FitShop Washington, D.C.

ModCloth recently opened a new brick and mortar store in Washington, D.C. This will be their 3rd permanent location (including Austin and San Francisco). However, ModCloth’s “FitShops” aren’t your normal run-of-the-mill shops! I was fortunate enough to visit the Washington, D.C. FitShop last week and will explain how it works, plus my thoughts on the experience (and show some of the fun things I found) in this post.

How ModCloth’s FitShop Works

Usually, when you go to a clothing store, you wander around, try some things on and then purchase them. Given that ModCloth is a fun, online retailer, that’s not exactly how your shopping experience is going to go here – not that that’s a bad thing.

While you can certainly wander into a ModCloth store and look at their super cute merchandise…you won’t actually be able to buy the items in the store. Let me explain how this works…

1.) Make an Appointment with a ModCloth Stylist

To get the most out of your ModCloth shopping experience you should make an appointment ahead of time with a ModCloth Stylist. (Click here to do that!) You’ll answer a short questionnaire when you make your appointment, so your stylist will know roughly what you’re looking for. You can also give them permission to look at your ModCloth account, so they have a better idea of your style.

Pro Tip… Update your ModCloth wishlist! I, unfortunately, hadn’t done this and had bought many of the things on my wishlist already. My poor stylist had to take a completely different direction with their picks once I showed up and said… “Sorry, I already bought all of this.” My stylist was fantastic and had a new set of clothes for me to try on in no time – but it would’ve been much more efficient on my end to just have updated my wishlist before going in!

[show_ms_widget id=”36006703″ image_id=”41869297″ width=”780″ height=”520″] [show_shopthepost_widget id=”3252678″] 2.) Chat With Your Stylist + Shop Around

Once you arrive at the store, your stylist will sit down and chat with you about what you’re looking for. They’ll also let you look around the store at what’s all in stock. You’ll then get a little notepad to write down your favorite items. Then, you and your stylist will put together a whole bunch of outfits to try one! Let the fun begin!

3.) Try It All On!

[show_ms_widget id=”36006701″ image_id=”41869294″ width=”800″ height=”1000″]

[show_shopthepost_widget id=”3252764″]

Then comes the fun part…you get to try everything on! Your stylist will hand you the outfits they put together, and they will also be more than happy to offer any opinions and suggestions. I had so much fun trying on the different outfits my stylist put together. I wouldn’t have even bothered to try this jacket, so I am so happy my stylist suggested it! It turned out to be my favorite item of the day.

4.) Place Your Order or Add to Your Wishlist

Once you’re done trying on your outfits, you and your stylist will chat a little more about what you liked and didn’t like. You can then add items to your shopping cart or put them on your wishlist for later. The big perk of shopping in store is not only getting to try things on before you buy, but you’ll also get free express shipping right to your door! And if you’re lucky, you might stumble on a coupon when you’re in store too.

So, you won’t be able to take the items home with you that moment, but you’ll get super fast, free shipping!

My Thoughts on Shopping at a ModCloth FitShop

I had a blast shopping at the ModCloth Washington, D.C. FitShop! It was incredibly dangerous, haha! This is because it was a great opportunity to see things in person that I was too afraid to order online, as I wasn’t sure if I would love them (especially shoes – I have a really hard time ordering shoes online).

[show_ms_widget id=”36006704″ image_id=”41869298″ width=”780″ height=”520″] Those oxblood loafers are currently sitting in my shopping cart now! They fit my wide feet and were super comfortable.

Also, it opened my eyes to products I had seen on the website, that I didn’t think looked all that great. For example, the cute, cactus purse below is SO much cuter in person than it is on the website. Honestly, when I saw it on the website, I thought it looked rather cheap, but seeing it in person…oh man, I fell in love.

[show_ms_widget id=”36006705″ image_id=”41869299″ width=”780″ height=”520″]

Shop Local

I also thought it was nice that ModCloth was trying to feature small, local businesses. My stylist was telling me how a very talented jewelry maker was selling her handmade pieces in the store earlier that week. (I think they had all sold out by the time I got there!) There was also a local plant store selling succulents and bouquets. ( I think they were leftover from earlier in the week – fresh shipment coming on Monday!)

What I Found at the ModCloth DC FitShop

I found entirely too many cute things at the ModCloth Washington, D.C. FitShop! Like I said this was dangerous… Feel free to also click on any photos below to go to the products on ModCloth’s website!

[show_ms_widget id=”36006706″ image_id=”41869300″ width=”800″ height=”1000″]

Absolutely loved this dress…didn’t realize I needed it until I went into the store, haha. It’s true-to-size and so comfy and soft!

[show_ms_widget id=”36006707″ image_id=”41869301″ width=”800″ height=”1000″]

It was so much fun to finally try this galaxy dress on too! It looked way better on than I expected. It seemed like the arm holes were a little big on me, though. I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable wearing it without a cardigan (because you could see my bra from the side). But gosh, I really liked it!

[show_ms_widget id=”36006708″ image_id=”41869302″ width=”800″ height=”1000″]

And how GORGEOUS are all these heels? I have the gold pair already, but I really want the middle pair with the flower! (The grey sparkly pair would be wonderful for a wedding.)

[show_ms_widget id=”36006709″ image_id=”41869303″ width=”780″ height=”520″]

Yep…totally bought this mustard bag I’ve been talking about nonstop. I’m SO excited!

My ModCloth FitShop Shopping Bag

So, the widget below is everything that I added to my bag…(Whoops!)

[show_shopthepost_widget id=”3252750″]

Bottom line…

If you happen to be near a ModCloth FitShop, by all means – go to it! You’ll have so much fun! But be sure to set a budget before you go, as it’s awfully tempting to buy the entire store once you see it in person! (And update your wishlist before making an appointment!)

Has anyone else visited a ModCloth FitShop? If so, how did you like it? Let me know in the comments! P.S. – Don’t forget! I’m giving away a $100 ModCloth gift card! Click here to enter!

Enjoy a few more photos from the store, below, And click here to shop ModCloth online.

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*Disclosure: some of these links are affiliate links. Meaning, if you click a link and make a purchase, Have Clothes, Will Travel gets a very small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting the brands that make this blog possible! I am also a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.

*Thank you to ModCloth for partnering with me for this post. As always, all opinions are my own, and I am not being compensated for a positive review.

I'm beyond excited that I was able to check out the @ModCloth DC FitShop! Today's post will explain how ModCloth's FitShops work + what I all found at the DC FitShop. Has anyone else had the chance to visit one of ModCloth's FitShops? ModCloth recently opened a new brick and mortar store in Washington, D.C. This will be their 3rd permanent location (including Austin and San Francisco).

#how FitShops work #ModCloth #ModCloth DC FitShop #ModCloth FitShop #Washington D.C.